NIGHT-HAWK KIT;

THE DAUGHTER OF THE RANCHE.

i

A ROMANCE OF THE SOUTH-WEST.

 

BY JOS. E.'BADGER, JIL,

AUTHOR OF THE NUDWING POCKET NOW:

59 THE TEXAS HAWKS. 119 Two-HANDED MAT.

63 THE FLORIDA Scour. 125 THE GIRL 0mm.

98 DUSKY DICK. 1% SQUATTER Dxcx.

106 THE INDIAN SPY. 130 Mum Com.

108 Tax: Woon KING. 140 THE BORDER RENEGADE
116 BLACK PANTHER. 143 MOUNTAIN KATE.

145 THE LONE CHIEF.

«

NEW YORK:

BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, '
'98 WILLIAM Ba‘REET.

 

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BEADLE AND CO PANY.
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NIGHT-HAWK KIT.

CHAPTER I.
“car'ram m.”

' TEE sun had not long crossed the meridian, on a warm
sultry day in midsummer, something less than two decades
previous to the presentday. _

It is to a slightly rolling “ timber-prairie ” that we ask the
reader’s attention. This prairie extended for some distance
along one of the confluents of the river Brazos, and was cov-
cred with a dense growth of flowers and tall grasses, though
scattered in irregular patches.

One passing down the stream, with it upon his right hand

. could distinguish before him an abrupt range of hills, rough

and precipitous, at apparently four er five miles distance

, They looked dark and forbidding, being thickly covered with

evergreens and parasite plants. A
From behind one of these “ timber-islands” or matter-al-
luded. to, rode a single horseman, with front toward the hills.
Both the steed and equestrian were such as would have called
forth more than a passing glance, although both bore traces

, of long and arduous travel.

The young man—for he did not seem to have numbered
more than five or six and twenty years of age—was of an un-
commonly symmetrical build; tall and athletic. with ,limbs
that, yet in proportion, were seemingly possessed of more than
common strength and activity.

His hair was worn long and slightly curling, his eyebrows

‘were black and heavy as twin arcs of velvetnarching his brows,
beneath which burned a pair of richly-tinted hazel eyes, large,

lull and expressive. His complexion was a rich glowing

i, brown,'and a heavy mustache and heard covered the lower

portion of his face. 
‘  slouched felt hat rested upon his head, and his garments

 

10 ' mom-mm m.

were an admixture of the ranger and ranchero type, picture
esque and comfortable.

Balanced across the saddle before him was a short, richly-
ornamented rifle of heavy caliber, and from the belt at his
waist peeped the silver-mounted butts of ‘a knifie and brace
of revolvers. '

The horse he bestrode was evidently a mustang, but yet of
unusual size and beauty. Naturally a deep glowing chestnut,
his smooth coat was now darkened,»by sweat and dust, to an

almost blackness. A small “blaze,” in the forehead, and ‘

due white stocking, were all the distinguishing marks about
him. ’

“ Come, old fellow,” muttered the rider, tightening the
bridle-reins and speaking to the steed. “ We must hurry
up. The boys will be impatient. We are behind time,
now."

Slightly pricking his steed’s flanks with the spurs, the horse-
man dashed over the prairie at a rapid gait, sitting his animal
so gracefully that he seemed born to the saddle. A few min-
utes of this, and then he drew a small roll from his breast,
and, unfurling, held it aloft over his head.

It was a small blue flag with a white star imprinted: in the
center, and bearing a pseuliar cipher in the corner. After
waving this toand fro for a minute, the rider replaced it in
his breast and then'dashed on direct toward a peculiar-look-
ing mam. _

From the center of this island, and far overtopping the
.nest, rose three bare objects, not unlike the naked masts" of a
sip, clearly outlined against the sky. \

Drawing rein when at the very edge of this clump, the
horseman uttered ashrill, peculiar whistle. Almost like an
echo came an answering sound from the timber, and then one
man advanced upon foot to meet the stranger.

“ We war expecting you, cap'n; leastwise we was a man.
But you look mighty young fer sech a place,” spoke the new-
comer, as he gazed scrutinizineg at the horseman. ‘

' "‘ Do Ii" But look—here are the signs; the flag, the
Vhlsfie, the grip; then look in this corner. You see the

cipher! Well—does it correspond?" at the same time" he jg
 forth the blue flag. ‘ ‘ . V

 

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' boss. Better ’light.

mommmenm 11

“ It’s the one—ran’ you hev t’others all right Then you‘re
Capsn_ ‘2’)

“Captain Kit—yes," laughed the young man.
the boys here—and how many are there 1’" .

“ ’Leven—vwith me, T’others ’r’ out on a raid. We num-
ber forty—all told.”

“ Can they be depended upon ?"

“ Bet yer life! I picked ’em,” was the proud reply.

“ Are they brave? and will they obey orders without ask-
ing questions until the work is done ?”

“ Ef they won’t, then swaller me up in a sand-storm ! Ef
you—or me—was to bring ’em face to face with the devil his
selfran’ shake a finger at him, any- one on the cusses ’d up an’
go through him like a dose 0‘ salts l"

“Good 1 but they’ll never be tried so hard. The Old Boy
is by far too good a friend of ours for that,” laughed the
young man; a clear, gleesome laugh that, ill accorded with
his words. “ But lead on, I -wish to see them myself. I can
tell better then what to depend upon.” .

“ They’re right in hyar, anxious fer a squint at that new
It’s rather clus ridin’ through this ’ere

u  are

banish” .

The captain dismounted and followed his guide; a burly,
hairy-faced, rough-looking man, dressed in a nondescript garb,
and armed until he resembled a walking arsenal. A few mo-
ments brought them to a small glade-like opening, surround-
ing tin three dead trees, that formed a land-mark for miles
around.

In this spot were collected a half-score of men and horses,
the former rudely dressed but superbly armed, and who arms
from their careless attitudes as the two appeared.

“Boys, this is the boss you’ve heard abouthap’n Kit.”

The partiesthus briefly introduced gazed steadily ateach
other for several moments, as if they would read there what
to; syntactic)! the future. Then, he who had given his name
as “ Kit,” spoke:

“Boys, I am glad to see you, and to find that what this
man has told me is the truth. He said. thatI could depend

_— upon you in every thing. He was surprised because I was no

older, and _I can see that some of you think the same. But

 

9 NIGHT-HAWK 1m.

do not go altogether by that. Young shoulders often bear
old heads. You can test me before long, and then, if found
wanting, and there is any one that you like better, I am
willing to abdicate in his favor.

“ As a token that I will not be negleotful of your interests,
I. will tell you how you each can make a very pretty sum, by
nightfall. There will be no risk, either, though I know that
would make no difference to you. Will you do it ?”

“ Yes i" was the general cry.

“ Good! Had you asked what it was, first, I should have
told you to find out for yourselves. I want no half-way trust.
There must be only one voice—one captain of the band I
command. But listen. There is a man—a cattle-drover from
Louisiana—who left Nacogdoches' at the same time I did.
I had quite a talk with him and found out that he was in-
tending to buy up a drove, and had the hard cash to pay for
them. By my advice he is coming here, to buy of the far-
mers at the Bluff. I kept trace of him, and he will be along
here before many hours. We can stop him, and once secur-

,_ing his gold, can dispose of him as the majority votes.

“ How do you like it 1’"

There was a general chorus of approval, and the outlaws-
for such they evidently were—seemed highly pleased. The
majority, but not all. '

One of the number, a small, slight built man, with a most
villainous countenance, muttered to his neighbor and then
glanced doubtingly at Captain Kit. That worthy's 'eagle
glance did not miss this, and leveling one finger to indicate
his meaning, he said:

“ You fellow—step out here and tell me what you are growl~
ing at? It don’t sound well, my good friend, and besides,
it is a very unhealthy habit. I have known more than one
good-looking fellow—like yourself, for instance—to go of!
very suddenly from its efi‘ects."

, The man stepped forward boldly enough, but stood before
the stranger with a sullen, downcast look. v

“ What is your name ?" » ' ‘ I, p ‘

“ Cook-eyed Smatters.”

“ A. nice name to sleep with I

What was it you told that
man ?" sternly added Captain Kit. , ‘

 

   
   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 
  

  

 
  

 
   
    
  
 

   

 
 

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AN “memory. ' 18'
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“ Yer name—that’s all."

“ He has ears—he must have heard it for himself.
bud enough.”

“ Your ‘t’other name, I mean.”

“ My—what? I don’t understand yen.

“ Wal, you say you come from Nacogdoches.
this mornin’ l” ‘

“ You did ? I must doubt that, my man. It is not every
horse that can cover so much ground as mine has done today
But what do you mean? Are you drunk ?"

“No, I ain’t; I, mean that I see’d you this mornin’, ovr .'
nigh 'Pierson’s ranche. I“ mean that you be none other the
Kirk Dalton, herder to the 01’ Judge.”

“You are a fool—or crazy. I know no such persons as
you mention. I have not been in this neighborhood for ( oer
a year,” angrily cried the Captain, nervously fingering a re-
volver at his belt. y - ,_

“ Sinatters ain’t to blame, Cap’n,” interposed the ms 1 who
had advanced to meet the new comer. “ Fer you're the
pufi'ect image 0’ the boy he names. I more‘n hate b’lieved
you was him, at first. But in co‘se it cain’t be.”

“ Am I so much like him, then i’"

' “ So much so, that ef he was hungry, an’ ’d chat to to see
you, he’drbe puzzled to know which mouth to stir.) the grub
inter l He would so I" '

“ Well, we .will talk this over hereafter. Now I want you
to get in a line and give me your names, so I can put them
on the .list, and answer whatever questions I may am you.”

This request, or rather order, was promptly obeyed. Pro-
bably not two of the eleven gave the name they had been

I spoke

Speak out plain.’
I see’d yot

~ christened by—supposing they had ever undergone that cere-
' mony—but those they'did give, were at least significant, and

fully answered the purpose.

Among them were nom de games that were then, or have
since become, notorious upon the Texan border. The names
of men who, in a better cause, wouldhave been called heroes,

v but who were demons in this.

i
, There were Old Mose, Bob Rattlesnake, (so oalledxfrom his
restless 'eyes, that when excited fairly emitted magnetic
sparks, or glared like those of an angry cat in the dark,)vUnolu

 

 

 
 

/ V
V / I I

14 NIGHT-HAWK xm

Buck, Yankee Zeke, Corneracker, and others who may be in-
troduced as ‘we proceed. *

This done, one of the band was ordered‘to climb a tree and «
keep a close look-out for the expected drovor, and then the
others composed theinselve's to careless waiting. The sun
sunk behind the horizon, and the gray shades of twilight
were settling over the earth, ere the welcome cry came from
the tree-top, causing all below to‘spring to their feet in eager-
ness. '

“ Thar he comes !”

Captain Kit cautioned his men to keep silent, and advanCed
to the edge of the motto. Gazing out for a few moments, he
made out the form of a. single horseman approaching the
timber island, and from the expected direction. Although
quite dusk, he didnot doubt but what this was the drove‘r he had
decoyed hither to sufl‘er robbery, if not death.

. Returning to the glade, he said, gayly: I

“ Well, boys, it’s our game. I don’t think he’ll show
tight, but if he does, leave him to me. It 'is two weeks
since I drew head on a live man. But wait until I giye the
word. No need of standing a chase when we can manage with-
out.” ' ' ' r
j, The unsuspecting horseman drew near at a slow trot, his
horse evidently jaded by a long day’s ride. When he was
within a hundred yards of the mom, Captain Kit rode.
forth and leisurely approached the traveler, folloWed by the
outlaws. ' '

The stranger abruptly drew rein and 'threw forward his
rifle, as he peered keenly through the fast-gathering gloom.
But then, as if reassured, he gave free rein and rode for-
Ward‘. '

"‘ Hallo, old man, which way i" cried Captain Kit, in a
clear, mellow voice.

“ Thet “you, Kirk? You gin me quite a sheer, a-ridin’ out
on a ‘feller thet a—way. What’s up thet you’ve got secha
crewd wi’ you—an’ seek a gang, too I" he added, suspiciomly,
as the outlaws came nearer. ' . 
. “A'thousand furiesl" cried Captain Kit, angrily. “This I
a not our game i" '
’ “131’s oldidosh Crane!”

 

  

 

 

 

 

mu Joan. ' 15

“ Yes, Mister Robert Rattlesnake, Esquire, it ar’ old Uncle
“Josh- An’ s‘posin’ We 5‘ The peraries is free, I reckon, to all
as notions to tramp ’em. But you, Kirk; I didn’t think ever
to see you in seek a pesky crowd,” added the old man, in a
reproachful tone.

He was a picturesque-looking personage, then and there,
seen in the dim twilight, seated upon his jaded but still fiery
mustang. His figure looked- gigantic, outlined against the
less opaque sky.

Six feet in his moccasins, Joshua Crane was built in pro-
portion. Great as was his weight—over two hundred pounds
——there was nothing but good solid flesh, bone and muscle in
his gigantic frame. He carried his half century as Well as
many of half. the number of years. , ‘

Brave as a lion, yet gentle as a woman, he was loved and
hated, feared and respected for hundreds of miles around.
Loved by honest people ; hated by rogues and scoundrels.
A true and faithful friend, he was a bitter and unrelenting
enemy.

Naturally peaceful, he had yet been forced to leave a trail
behind him, marked with blood. An attack was made upon
his cabin, but the outlaws fled, leaving three of their number
dead- upon the ground. Since then he had not been dis-
turbed.

“‘ Who is this man ?" demanded the outlaw leader of his
followers.

“ An’ you ax thet, Kirk Dalton? Ax who Uncle Josh
is 1’" cried Crane, in a tone of great surprise, mingled with re~
proach. '

“ I don’t know you—I am not Kirk Dalton."

' “ I don’t know why you shed tryto deny your name, lad.
It ain't like you. No more‘n ’tis your keepin’ comp’ny with
each as Old-Mose an’ Rattlesnake, thar’. But my eyes is still
good. I couldn't forgit you ef I tried, Kirk.” -

“ You won’t believe me? Very well, then ; so be it!
Since you seem to think so much of me, Uuncle Josh, per:
haps you’ll be so kind as to give me a promise,” retorted Cap-
tain Kit. ' ’

" Er I kin, I: will. I’ve al’ays bin your friend, Kirk, an’ I

3 shed hate mightily to hev to change my ’pinion this late‘ in

 

 

  

16 / maximum xrr. ,

the day, but take the old man’s advice, boy, sn’ steer cl’ar 0’
those rascals as you’re with.”

“ Look hyar, Uncle Josh,” angrily cried Rattlesnake, his

eyes flashing with a strange, deadly glare. “ You'd best re-
member whar’ you air, an’ keep a civil tongue in yer old
head. You mought chaince to git a bullit through it fer
you.” .
“ An’ you, mister hoes-thief, mind what I say. I niver yit
see the time as I was afeard o’ sech scum as you be, an’ it’s
too late to begin now. You needn’t finger your pistil.
Afore you could raise the cock, I’d plug ye, fr‘ends or no
fr’ends. You know nw—ef you don’t, jist make another call
at my shanty l” sternly retorted Crane, half-raising his rifle.

‘“ Hold i" cried Captain Kit, spurring his horse between
the disputants. “ Keep your temper, Rattlesnake, and you, .
old man, drop your gun. If there’s any shooting to be done
here to-night, I’ll do it.”

“ Have your will, boy,” cried Crane, slowly uncocking his
rifle. “ I’m a peaceable critter when they don’t rub the
wrong way 0’ the fur. But ef I am old, I don’t ’low nobody
to spit in my face, and then rub it in.”

“ Well, we’ll let that drop. You shall not be hurt if you
will give me a simple promise not to tell anybody of what you
have seen and heard this night, for the next two weeks.
Then you may use your own judgment. Will you do it t"

“You talk mighty queer, Kirk. Sounds ’8 though you was
tryin’ to skeer the old man. I thought you knowed ’me bet-
ter’n thet."

“I am not trying to scare you. I only wish you to prom-
ise me this. I have good reasons for it, as you may find out
before long. I want this little ride kept secret for a bit. ,
More than all from Pierson." -

“Will, I don’t see what you're drivin' at, lad, but I reckon
I kin trust you. So fer two weeks from this night, I won‘t
tell ary pusson—not even Hepsy—thot I met you hyar."

“ Me nor the others ‘3” r

“ Them too, ef you say so.”

“ Very well. Now you can ride on. I wish you a very
good-night, Uncle Josh‘," laughed the outlaw leader, in a pe-
culiar tone. - .

 

  

  

\

‘ ’ ‘ A m CHANGE. I ‘17,

 

   

“ Won't you come ’long, too, Klrk? 'Tain’t right for scch
as you to be a-ridin‘ the kentry over ’th sech trash as them.
Come, go ’long ’th the old man an’ let’s talk this over," urged
Crane. ‘ . .

“Sorry to disoblige you, uncle, but really must decline your
invitation. I have more important business on hand. But
remember your promise."

“ I do ’member it, but I never thought to ’a’ see’d the day
thet Kirk Dalton ’d doubt the word 0’ Josh Crane, to his very
face. It‘s a. sad change—I cain’t understand it l"

“Don’t try to, then. It might strike in and injure you
Good-night."

. “ Good-night be it, then, sence you won’t take a fr’end’s ad-
vice,” and Joshua Crane rode slowly away, not once turning
his head to glance at those he left behind him.

There was a grieved expression on his homely but honest
face, that told how deeply he had been hurt by the strange
change in one whom he firmly believed was his young friend;
Kirk Dalton. He had loved the boy as though his own
child, and now to be denied, as he had been, was bitter in-
deed.

And then to see his friend associating with such men as
Rattlesnake, Old Mose, and the 'others, many of whom were
known outlaws and desperadoes, pained his heart still deeper.
As he said, it was a sad change.

I

 
 
  
  
 
   
 
 
  

CHAPTER II.

   
    
    

  

 

KIRK DALTON.

IT was an hour or so before sunset, upon the day next suc
ceeding that with which our story opens. As then, the scene
is the wooded prairie. As then, the figure of a horse and
rider might be noticed.

But the one now before us is a lady, who sits her mettle-

.‘ some steed with the grace of an accomplished equestrian,
added to the peculiar ease and dashing self-reliance only at-

     
  

 

  

 

    

 
 

18 momswx xrr.

tained by lessons learned in the wild freedom of the prairies
of the great West.
She was rather below than above the medium hight, of a
neat, well-turned and rounded figure. A brunette, with merry
laughing eyes that could yet sparkle wickedly or flash with
«anger.

Her face was one of those irregular in outline, but yet per-
fect; plain in detail, yet when taken together, forming one
bewitchingly piquant. It was the face of one formed to love
and be loved ; not ‘worshiped.

Her cheeks were flushed brightly, whether with exercise
or some other emotion, and there was an expectant look in
her eyes as she reined her mustang down to'a walk. Her
uuick'gl’ance noted the form of a horseman just emerging
from the shadows of a little motto, and averting her head with
a wicked smile, she gave free rein and sped off over the prai-
rie.

The other gazed after her for a moment, and then, as if
satisfied, urged his horse forward, calling aloud with a clear,
ringing voice. As if startled, the maiden abruptly drew rein
and turned her head.

“ Why, Mr. Dalton, how you frightened'me 2” she exclaimed,
as he rode up.

“ I am very sorry, Miss Carrie, but I saw you riding by,
and as I wished to speak to you, I called. It would hays
been useless to have given chase, while you ride Cap,” he re-
turned, extending his hand, sun~embrowned and toil-hardened.

“One would think you had ‘not seen me for a year, in-
stead of only this morning, by that,” but the profl'ered hand
was allowed to clasp the tiny gloved fingers.

“ It is not that alone, Miss Carrie,” replied Kirk. “ But I
have something to tell you, and thought I would guard against
your running away before I had your answer.”

“ Indeed 1 Then you may as well free my hand, for I will
not speak while you hold it."

She spoke boldly enough, but there was a fluttering at her Y‘
heart that caused her eyes to droop and a. bright flush to'suf—
fuse her cheeks. Right well she knew what was coming; but
88 She made no effort to withdraw her hand, it is not likely

the expectation was very unpleasant.

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Phones“. 10

And it was a handsome man that looked down upon ,her
face; one that might well excuse such a feeling. Tall and“
shapely, his suit of half-hunter, half-ranchero sat pictur-
esquer upon him, and revealed his symmetrical form to great
advantage.

Dark and sun-'embrowned, with long black hair, slightly
curling; eyes a deep brown, nearly black; heavy yet silken
eyebrows, mustache and heard; a slouched felt hat, looped up
in front with a simple knot of crimson ribbon.

Such was Kirk Dalton, the very counterpart of him who
had called himself Captain Kit. If not the same, there was
a wondrous resemblance between the two.

“I hope you will, Carrie, for a great deal depends upon
your answer. It will either make or ruin me. What I ask
you now will determine the whole future of my life. Shall I
speak 9"

“ You are the strongest—I don't see how I am to hinder
you if you choose to spea ," retorted the maiden, with a Shy,
but roguish glance at his handsome face.

“ I will, then, although you must know what I mean. I
could not have hidden it from you this long had I tried.
Carrie, I love you 1”

“ Indeed! and is that all i"

" All i?" , V

“ Yes; I expected to hear something dreadful by your
solemn tones and owlish looks. A murder, or a buried
treasure, at the very least i” declareu the girl, with a roguish
laugh ; but the color deepened on her cheek, and a soft light
shone'in her eyes.

“ Carrie, did you understand what I said? If you knew
how serious this is to me; how deeply, madly I love you, you
would not trifle with my feelings."

“ I do know it, Kirk, and I am a foolish girl. I know you
love me—have known it for a year, although youvhave never
spoken it in words before. If it had been very displeasing, I
should have acted difl'erenlly from what I have done," ear-
nestly replied Carrie, raising her dark eyes and gazing openly
into those of the young herder.

“.Carrie, you can not-—you are not playing with me, now?
You know what‘ you say i”

 

  

    

 

 

90 , near-inn n'r.

,

“I know this, Kirk: that you love me—that I love you
—and have for a year past,” softly murmured the maiden, her.
eyes drooping. ..

And then with a joy too great for utterance, the young
herder bent forward,vand winding an arm around her lithe
waist, lifted her to his level, and then their lips met in the
warm, passionate kiss of pure, holy love.

“ There, now—you great, rough bear i” cried Carrie, blush-
ing furiously. “See what you’ve done, mussed my hair,
rumpled my dress, and let Cap stray off without me! Let me
down this instant, or I’ll—” A

“ My darling l" fondly murmured Kirk.

“ Let me down at once, or I’ll take it all back—every
word 1”

“‘Well, then, wait here, Carrie-my Carrie now l—until I
can catch Cap for you.”

Gently lowering the maiden .to the ground, Dalton rode oil'
at a gallop toward the spot where the gray mustang was eat-
ing, and stooping, grasped at the rein. But at a shrill whistle
from its mistress, the horse threw up its heels, and wheeling,
soon stood beside its fair rider.

“ You promise better than you perform, Kirk,” laughed
Carrie, but her glee was suddenly interrupted by a little cry of
surprise.

Dalton rode up beside her, and stooping, raised her lithe
form from the ground and deposited it snugly into the sad‘
die, stealing at least one kiss during the operation. V

“ That makes amends, pet,” he laughed; then adding, in a
graver tone : “ but it is growing late and we had better ride
toward the ranche. There is much I would like to talk over
with yqu before meeting the Judge.”

“'Why so—you are not going—t” faltered Carrie. .

“ Yes, it is the better way. I shall tell him to-‘night, unless
you forbid. Carrie, what will be the answer?”

“ I do not know. He loves me dearly and respects you, as
I believe. But then he is'proud, and has often said that I
should marry no man who was not rich and well born,”
thoughtfully replied the maiden. V r x

, ‘f And I am neither 1" bitterly added Kirk. “ A poor
harder, I have only one horse and my weapons. I do not

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

\. v,  ‘,. _
Joan. 81

ml Damon AND imam

know where I was born, who were my parents, whether they
were honest or guilty, poor or rich. I feared my happiness
was too great to last I” V‘

“ Wait—it may not be so bad. But, Kirk, if I dearly love
my father, I love you more. If he “tries to separate us, he
will lose me also. I could not live without you, now l"

Their subsequent conversation was more interesting to the
lovers than it would be to the reader, and we pass it over.
The sun had sunk behind the horizon for some time, when
the long rambling “ ranche ” of Hiram Pierson was reached,
and the two young folks separated.

Kirk Dalton left the premises and then struck down the
river. His steps were slow, for his thoughts were busy.

After walking thus for considerably over a mile, he paused.
Before him, upon the summit of a little knoll, stood a rude-
looking but substantial log hut, from whose open doorway
streamed a blaze of ruddy light, that, added to the savory
scent, told of the evening meal’s being prepared.

Before the door sat a man, whose huge form told that it
could be none other than the owner of the solitary dwelling,
Joshua Crane. Not another such figure could there be found
within a radius of fifty miles.

“ Hallol Uncle Josh, busy with your rifle, as usual,” cried
Kirk. in a cheery tone.

The old man paused in rubbing his long-barreled rifle, and
glanced up. The friendly twilight hid a sad, halt perplexed
expression that rested upon his face.

He did not speak. but looked steadily at the young herder
as though he would read the inmost workings of his heart.
Dalton approached and seated himself upon the same log,
adding, wonderingly:

“Why, uncle, what is the matter with you to-night ?
You don’t ansxver me, and then you look so queer! What
has gone wrong?” ;

“Kirk, I was over to the ‘Three Pines' this a’ternoon,"
at length said Crane, slowly, while he gazed keenly at the
young man. _

“Were you? Did you see any thing there to scare you,
that you look so grave i’”
' "‘ Yes—I did!"

D

  

    

 
 

NIGHT-HAWK 

“ And what was it i” ,

“Kirk, tell me what you was a'ter thar, yist’day night I”

“I there? I was not within three miles of the place all
day! What do you mean, Uncle Josh ?”

“ Not—then I didn’t see you thar last night as I was a-
comin’ from Michler’s Y”

“ You did not, most assuredly l”

“You wasn’t with Bob Rattlesnake, Old Mose an' t’other
rascals? You didn’t speak to me an’ ax me to make you a
promise not to tell nobody ’at I'd met you thar’ for the nixt
two weeks ?”

“ A promise? Why, Uncle Josh, you know this is the first
time I have spoken with you for four days !" cri’ed Kirk, in a
tone of surprise, that it assumed stamped him as a most adroit
dissembler. -

"f I hev two eyes yit. boy, an’ ef they ain’t quite so sharp as
they use to was, they’re plenty good enough to tell a man ’at
I've knowed for well nigh three years. I don‘t see why you
shed deny yourself to me, now that we’re alone. It was dusk,
I know; jist about like ’tis now, but I was so cluss thet I
could ’a’ tetched you by retchiu’ out my arm. I see your face,
I heerd your firm; how could I be fooled l”

“ I don‘t understand this, uncle. You say you saw me
there at this time, while I was over on the ‘ barrens,’ gather-
ing in some cattle that had strayed from the herd. You mitst
have been mistaken; and yet, I do not see how that could
well be. There is no one in this section who so greatly re-
sembles me, that you should be deceived,” thoughtfully said
Kirk '

‘,‘ Was any one with ye, lad? ‘Could you prove that you
was thar at that time ?” eagerly added Crane.

“No, I was alone. Myrick was sick this morning, and I
had his share to attend to, as well as my own. I was alone
all day." ,

“ I am sorry for that-blamed sorry! I could a’most doubt
my eyesight an’ hearin’, ruther ’n your word. I would give
my ride hyar, much as I’m ’tached to it, ef so be you could

I on'y prove that you was some place else, j'ist at_thet time i"
“ What do you mean, Uncle Josh? Even if I were there.
and with those you mention—which is an impossibility, for ‘I

 

 

    

 
 

was-r uncut Josh. saw. an

despise them too much for thee-where would be the great
harm i" Y

“ Kirk, do you know what I tound out thar, to-day ?"

“ No—how should I?”

“Not fifty yards from the timmer, that lies the body 0' a
man—a stranger—shot through the head. ,It war did some
time last night, fer the dew hed fell on him. He wasn’t that
when I rid by, fer he lays plum acrost the trail."

“ A dead man ?”

“Dead an’ robbed. An old‘ man, too, who wasn’t ’lowed
no time to ’fend hisself, fer thar was no marks 0' a scuffle."

“It is sad—but what has all this to do with me 1’"

“You war thar at ’bout the time[ You wanted it kept
secret. You said when you rid up close an’ see’d who I war '
—‘ boys, this ain’t our game !’ Thet poor cuss war aomebody’a
game.”

“ You do not—you can not think that I had aught to do
with this devilish crima ?" hotly cried the young harder, spring-
ing to his feet. '

“ Two days sence I’d ’a’ knocked the feller down as would
'a' hinted at each a thing. But I see’d you that—I’d take my
Bible oath on’t l—an’ yit you. deny it. What loin I think,
when I ’member who you was with ?”

“Uncle Josh, if anybody else should say half that much to
me, I would stop his jaw with a bullet! You have been my
friend for a long time, but even you can go too far," sternly re-
plied Kirk.

And in truth, there did not seem much of the criminal about
him, as he drew his tall, handsome form erect, with the moon-
' light glowing full upon his open, indignant countenange.

“ I hev bin your fr‘end, Kirk, an’ I will be yit, ef so he
you’ll ’low me. We must go to-night au’ put the poor devil
under ground. Ef found thar, it’d raise a big muss, sure 1’"

“ No—I will do no such thing. I shall tell the neighbors
of the body, and have the matter investigated," firmly replied
Dalton. ,

' “It would be the death 0’ you, boy! Ef I am axed on
oath—as I will be, sure—I muss tell the hull truth.” ,

“You are at liberty to do so, for aught I care; I am inno-

cent. ~ And new, good-by.”

 

2'4 mam-HAWK m.
“ Won’t you come in an’ stop, lad ? I’d like to talk this
. over ‘th'you, furder." ‘

“ No, You doubt my truth. I will never take you by the
hand, nor eat a bit under your roof, until you take back your
words. I do not know what  have done that you should try
to blacken the character of an honest man. I am poor, but,
thank God i there is no such stain upon my heart 1”

With these words Dalton turned and strode rapidly away,
not heeding the voice of Crane who called after him. There
was a heavy pain 'at his heart,1lbr he had loved the old man
almost like a father, and to be suspected of such a foul crime
by him. was a bitter blow indeed.

The young herder strode rapidly away, toward the dwelling
of Judge Pierson, taking little note of surrounding objects.
The thought of Carrie and the sweet confession he had won
from her lips, quickly overpowered and dispelled all the sus-
picions evidently entertained by Crane.

Dalton had just crossed a little creek and ascended the sum-
mit of a slig ‘t knoll, when he was'suddenly aroused from his
pleasant reverie by the unmistakable sound of footsteps.
Glancing quickly around, while one hand instinctively dropped
to his revolver-butt, he beheld the forms of three men at but
a few yards distance, approaching‘hi'm, 'yet evidently wishing
to do so unheard.

“ Hallo! there, do you take me for a deer, that you try to
stalk me this way?” said the young man, half-drawing his
pistol.

f‘ Is that you, Kirk Dalton 1’”

“ And supposing it 1': me; what has that to do with you,
Cock-eyed Smatlers ?”

“ I’ve got sumthin’ to tell you. Wait till we come up.”

“ No you don’t! Whatever you have to tell, it must be
from there. I don’t care about being over close to you, es-
pecially in the night-time.”

“ You ain’t afeerd, be you?” sneered Smatters.

“Not much 1 But there are several animals one likes best
at a distance. A pole-cat, for instance—and yourself l” ‘

“ You crow mighty loud an’ peert, my covey, but we kin cut
yer comb an‘ blunt yer spurs. Come, boys—one rush together
an’ he’s our’n i” ' ' " ‘

,.

,r

J 711! v, ._,

\ y

r?

A Wine scams. 25

As he spoke these words, Smatters leaped forward, evi-
iently counting upon taking the herder by surprise, and over-
coming him by their united strength erc he could draw a
weapon. But in this he was doomed to disappointment.

» Dalton's keen eye noted the movement, and divining his
danger, drew his revolver as he leaped back a pace, still fac-
ing his foes. Then one arm straightened out and the moon-
heams gleamed upon the polished tube of a revolver.
' “ Stop 1” shouted Kirk, in a tone of stem command.
step nearer, and you die I”

There was a cadence in his tones that caused the trio of
outlaws to pause, involuntarily, rather, than from any personal
fear. Then the four personages were brought almost together
upon the crest of the knoll. ‘ . ,

Dalton standing firmly erect, with keen eye glancing along
the polished tube. The three desperadoes half-crouching be-
fore him, clutching knives and pistols that were not yet drawn
from their belts. ‘ '

“ Cock-eyed Smattcrs, Yankee Zeke and Roaring Sam! A.
,pretty little surprise party, upon my word l Halt l not a step
nearer, or I fire I What is it you want with me i”

“ Fust tell us who you air ‘2"

“ Kirk Dalton—as you ought to know by this time:

“ Then you ain’t the man that sent us? You ain’t-Cap’n
Kit, tryin’ to foolish us?’ added Smattcrs.

"I have not sent you any place—as yet. Though if you
don’t keep your distance, I will send you—upon a longer
journey than you care about taking.”

“ Take him, boys! Ef he’s the boss he‘d orter know bet-
ter'n to fool ’th us so. Take him-shut don’t hurt the
cuss l” snarled Smatters, as he crouched down and leaped for-
ward.

A clear report rung out, and, met in mid-air by the death-
dealing bullet, the cock-eyed outlaw «tumbled headlong to the
ground, with a. shattered skull. A single groan—a convulsive
clutching of the hands upon the soft earth, was all.

There came two more shots, quickly following ; then a
short, confused struggle. As the smoke cleared away upon the
fresh breeze, the moonlight shone upon a thrilling scene.

The dead man lying in his blood. The tall form of 'the

“ One

     

96 ‘ NIGHT-HAWK m.

young herdsman standing upon one side, with his left hand
clutching the throat of Roaring Sam, who had been partially
stunned by ahlow frcm the pistol-butt, whose muzzle was now
leveled at the crouching form of the third outlaw, whose cheek
bore a ghastly wound. ’

“ You‘ve played your hand, Yankee Zeke,” said Kirk, coolly,
following the movements of the outlaw’s head with the dark
tube; “ and you’ve got badly euchered. My pistol has three
loads yet—half-ounce balls, and driven home—and if I crook
my finger the least bit, where will you be i”

“ Ef you miss, you're mine i” growled the outlaw.

“ But I won’t miss. Don’t try to draw that revolver i If
you do, I’ll spot you! Tell me what you fellows meant by
this i”

“ Shoot an’ be durnedi I won't blow i”

“ I have half a mind to take you at your word, By all that's
good ! But go your way. One is enough for now, and

Smatters will never ambush another honest man. I give you
one minute to travel. When I count twenty, if you are in
sight, I’ll crack your skull like a dog 1"

In a slow, measured tone Dalton began counting. The

desperado slowly rose erect, and said :

“ All ‘right—I’ll go. You’ve got the 'vantagc now, but I‘ll
'pay you yit fer this i” and he touched the wound upon his
face.

“ Don’t blow. Better be thankful that it didn't here your
skull, instead of only cutting your cheek. Come—you had
best start 1” added Dalton, steruly.

The desperado turned as if to depart, but then whipping

out his pistol he faced around and fired. But he had a cun- ‘

ning and watchful foe to deal with, and the young man
dropped to his knees as the flame spouted forth. ,

Then he arose, and as the outlaw saw the deadly muzzle.
bearing full upon him, he turned and fled. Swift as was his
motion, the bullet was still swifter, and with a wild yell of
agony he sprung high into the air, falling in a quivering heap
to the ground.

“ It is rough, but how could I help it ?" muttered Dalton,
as he allowed the body of Boating Sam to drop at his feet.
“ He brought it upon himself, and I warned him twice 1"

    

    
    

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

set
Pit
ion,
We]
u a:
l '1
E encr
f feeli
: liked
[r by tl
f TL
his w

v  Joshu

E made
’ coldly

was “nine mm m mm ' a?

Rapidly reloading his pistol, Kirk proceeded to where the
Yankee had fallen, and bending over' him, lifted his head.
Then he let it drop with a shudder. ‘

The bullet had pierced his neck, killing him almost in-
stantly. .

The young herder was deeply pained at the occurrence, but
turned to secure Sam, intending to take him to the ranche,
where the case could be investigated, and their reasons for the
attack learned. As he reached the spot, he saw the outlaw
plunging into the underbrush bordering the creek.

Reviving, he had feigned insensibility, in order the better
to effect his escape. When left by Dalton, the deeperado had
improved his opportunity. ' .,

“Well, it can’t be helped now, though I am afraid it will
i make trouble for me," muttered Kirk, as he turned and
slowly proceeded toward the 'ranche.

CHAPTER III.

THE OUTLAW’S DEN.

a

THERE was considerable stir caused among the neighboring
settlers by the discovery of a murdered mun near the Three
Pines, although nothing like what would have been in a

. longer settled country. Such crimes—murder and robbery—
' were by no means unfrequent, and then the unfortunate was
.g ‘ l a stranger.
n’- , There was more interest in the story of Kirk Dalton, of his
in . I,

encounter with the three desperadoes, and it excited strong

. t feelings of both pleasure and revenge. The men slain were

d°~ i liked only by their own stripe, being both feared and hated

his l by the honest settlers.

,’ The young herdsman was generally liked and respected, and

esp ‘1 his words were not doubted when he told his story. Even
Joshua Crane seemed to have forgotten his suspicionsfand

tons  made advances toward the young man, who received them but
[6‘— l coldly. '

 

 

 

.. V.
V" ,

28 , NIGHT-HAWK KIT.

Roaring Sam had not since been heard from nor seen, but
knowing his vindictive nature, Dalton kept a good guard

against treachery. As for an open attack, that he did not’

fear. ‘

There had come a body of new settlers to the neighbor-
hood a day or so after the prairie tragedy, whose actions
were so strange as to excite considerable curiosity among the
older inhabitants. They numbered some half a score in all;
there being no women or children in the company.

They seemed to shun all intercourse with the neighbors,
and, selecting a site, began to erect a. dwelling. The position
chosen was a strange one.

Near the foot of one of the hills Where at some remote
period had occurred a land-s1ide,a spot was leveled and a
stout one-story house was erected, its rear fairly touching the
hillside. And yet, when the house seemed completed, the
work still went on.

The men labored steadily, wheeling out dirt, and hewing '

timbers that were carried into the building, but which never
came out again. Disagreeable suspicions began to fill the
minds of the settlers as to the characters of these new-comers,
but, as yet, nothing definite had been learned.

While the subject of the murdered stranger, and the two
desperadoes were being discussed, Kirk Dalton kept his own
counsel in regard to his love afl‘air. at least from the ears of
the Judge. He resolved to wait until he was cleared of all
suspicions before speaking.

Even under the most auspicious circumstances he knew that
his prospects of success were gloomy enough. As he had
said, he was poor, and knew nothing regarding his birth.

The Judge was, a. very proud and haughty man, who had
left Virginia because, failing, he would not live as a poor man
where he had been, for so long, one of the most wealthy and
aristocratic.

Emigrating to Texas, where he soon found an advantageous.

location, he was now in a fair way to retrieve his lost for
tune. But as his worldly goods increased, so also seemed his
pride to gain strength. Was it likely, then, that he would
look favorably upon the, suit of the young herdsman?

Thehloven- had daily interviews, and altogether passed the

       
    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  

  

   
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 

 

  

A inflame/m. . so
time very happily; but that one misgiving would often come
up to shatter their hopes and dispel their bright dreams. But
Carrie loved truly and fervently, and renewed her resolve to
abandon all, should her parent prove inexorable, for the sake
of him whom she loved far better than all else upon earth.

‘ One evening, over a week after the conflict with the out-
laws, Kirk Dalton sought his employer in his own room, and
bravely opened his heart. His love rendered him eloquent,
and he did not pause until he had revealed all.

The planter heard him out without any interruption. He
n as too polite to treat even a dependent rudely. But when
he spoke it was in a cold, hard tone.

He bade the young man say no more. That his hopes were
ridiculous and such as could never be fulfilled. That he
liked him well enough, as a man, but'a son-in-law such as he
was evidently out of the question.

Kirk pleaded eloquently, but it was like attempting to
soften iron with cold water. Then he grew excited and de-
clared that have her he would, if he had to run off with her
before the father’s very eyes.

“ That is enough, sir,” sternly said the Judge, \rising. “I
will excuse you further speech. Here are your wages, due,
with a month's advance. I shall have no further occasion for
your services. And since you have spoken so plainly, I will
be equally open. If you are caught lurking around this house,
or upon my premises anywhere, I will drive you from them
with the dogs l I shall give my servants orders accordingly.”

“ You talk as though I was one of your negroesl But this
is a free country, and if you try any such expedients, I will
not be the only one to sufi‘er. Do and say what you will ; I\
love Carrie and she loves me. I will have her yet, in spite
of you and your servants i" cried Kirk, bitterly.

“ Enougb,'sir—gol Go now, before I forget myself and
chastise ydu as your insolent threats deserve! I am old, but
there is sufficient strength in this right arm yet. Go, I tell
you, or I will call the servants and have them kick you 011‘ my
grounds 1”

“ I will go—but not for long. You have my word that I
will foil you ; make the most of it," sneered Dalton, as he
tamed and left the house. .. ‘

 

  

m NIGHT-HAWK am.

He was met in the garden by Carrie, who was we and
trembling. Shesunk into his arms, sobbing as though her
heart would break.

“ Oh! Kirk. you have quarreled with father 1”

“ Yes, darling—or rather he quarreled with me. That
hope is gone now. I must leave you here, but only for a few
days. Then I shall come and claim you. It may be best for
us not to meet for a short time, as you will doubtless be
closely watched. But I must hear from you."

“ And how ?”

“ You know the live-oak on the bill by the ford? It is
hollow, and you can easily drop a note in there without be-
ing suspected. By day after to-morrow, at the furthest, I
shall expect one. Will I receive it i”

“ Yes—yes, I will do it. And you ?” ,

“ I will do the' same. I can keep you informed of  plans,
and you must tell me how you are treated here. Now, Car-
rie, can I depend upon you? Will you’redeem your word, so
often given, when the time comes ‘1’”

“ I will! When you bid me come to you, I will obey. I
am all yours—through good and evil—joy and sorrow l”

“ My darling I" murmured the enraptured lover, as he
strained her to his heart in a wild ecstasy of joy.

Juet then they were interrupted by the voice of the planter
calling his daughter, and fearing to be discovered should he
linger longer, Kirk pressed one passionate kiss upon her pale
lips and then glided away into the shadows, just as the fa-
ther came down the walk.

 

‘ The exterior yet the log-house built by the new settlers was
dark and gloomy, although well lighted within. As it may
be reverted to, more or less frequently, hereafter, a glance at
its interior may not be amiss. .

There were two good sized rooms, nearly square, with air
open doorway between. Both were now lighted up and oc-
cupied.

In the two there were probably twenty men, all told,
rough, villainous—looking fellows, rudely dressed, but superbly
armed. with rifles, revolvers and knives. They were goth
cred around a. couple of rude tables, paying assiduous devoin "

I

‘4
l-o
P

m ‘xnw sum

to the bottles and jugs of strong liquor that thickly studded
the tables, and conversing in eager but low tones.
Among their number there were several men well knovtn

‘ at the settlements, whose presence would have still further

 

strengthened the suspicions entertained of the new-comers,
could they have been seen. It was quite evident that the
strange settlers were none of the most honest.

“Sam. you hain’t tuck that ’ar Dalton yit, hev you?”
asked Bob Rattlesnake, addressing the worthy Roaring Sam.

“No, but I’ll do it yit, thoughl Cuss the devil! I kin
feel his claws a-grippin’ my neck yitl They’re wuss’n a
blacksmith‘s vice—a darned sight I"

“What is the boss so dumed perticklar about us not a-‘

" hurtin’ him fer, anyhow? We could easy pick the varmint

‘l

)ly

ofi‘ ef so he‘d on’ y ’low us to burn powder,” growled Old Mose,
as be wiped his lips with a not over-clean shirt sleeve, after
“ throwing himself outside of " half a pint of corn-juice.

“D’ye know what I think 1’" whispered Bob, confidentially.

“No-how sh’u‘d We ?"

“ You won’t blab ef I tell ye ?”

“ N o—honor bright I" ’

“ We], then, durned ef I don’t b’lieve ’at Cap‘n Kit 1111’
Kirk Dalton is the same critter 1 One feller couldn’t look
more like hisself ‘11 they do, an‘ then he sw’ars as he’ll shoot
the fust feller as hurts this Dalton. I’ve tried to see ’em both
at a time, but I cain’t. Ef I find one t’other is missin’. I
tell you, I b’lieve I’m right. Wish I had as: many dollars
as-I’m sure they‘re the same i” declared Bob, emphatically.

“ I don’t think So l” slowly replied Old Mose.

' “ An’ I tell you ’h's so I I say that Cap’n Kit isé”

The words of the desperado had been spoken in aloud tone,
but he suddenly paused and stammered, as the outer door was
flung open and the tall form of the chief appeared upon the
9hreshold. o

“ Well, Mister Rattlesnake Bob, why don’t you go- on I
‘ Cap’n Kit is’—what ‘1’"

There was a peculiar shade upon the leader’s face, and a

gleam in his dark eye that aWed the desperado, bold and im-
, pudent as he generally was. . His eyes dropped, and his voice ‘

was husky as he falter-ed: '
[ /

81o.

 
  

     

88,- , mom-mm: Km.

“Nothin’; I was on’y jokin'."

“ It is an unhealthy practice, let me tell you and I advise,
you as a friend to break it ofl‘. I tell you, my man, that
tongue of yours is entirely too glib of speech for. your own
good. Beware how you let it wag about me and my affairs,
or I may crop it for you I”

The desperado did not reply, but as Captain Kit turned
away, he cast a covert glance of deadly hatred toward him,
that might well have caused its recipient to feel uneasy, had
he noticed it. ,

“ Boys," said the outlaw leader, “ drop.the liquor now, and
listen to me. Our den is fixed up all correct, and it is high
time we set about regular business. These meddlesome settlers
are growing two inqusitive, and we may as well give them
something to talk about Even if they take to arms, we can
hold our own against all the force they can muster, either here
or in the open field. -

“ The other boys will probably be here to-morrow, and we
must set them a good example. We’ll make a raid on Judge

    
     
   
   
   
   
   
   
       
  
 
 
   
   
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Piersou’s corral, and then take Claiborne’s. The two will give .
us as many head as we can manage. We can take down the ~
river to the lower ford, and then throw them ofl’ the track on L. 1
the ‘shingle.’ Long enough, any how, to allow of our reaching ‘ , i
the first station. Once there, our share of the work is done. ' 3
They must look to the rest.” V
A low but hearty cheer answered this speech, and from the t H
eager faces, it was evident that the ones there assembled were i m
not in favor of idleness. . '

‘ ‘bGoodl I see you are just what I expected. Now- we 15'
will arrange it all, so that there may be no chance of mistake. a“
You, Red Hirble, will take half the men and go through Olai- ,1 1191
borne’s corral, only choosing the best head; two for each man eql
will be enough. I will look to the Judge’s. But mind ye, ,081
boys, there must be no blood spilled, unless you are driven to “
a-fight. If you can’t get around it, why then give them the a” y
best you’ve got.” . . “9 11

“ Air we to come back hyar to-night, cap ?” asked Mose, “
“ Yes. It is only some forty miles in all; we must be here  1113’":
meage we shquldreceive a call in the morning." ? may

The chief now proceeded to give his men more minute di_ j ‘1 :‘nd ‘.

/‘

  

    
     

/
/

     
      
      
 
    
  
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

snownm rumm' across. 83

rectlons, as to how they were to proceed,land then took a
place at one of the tables, helping himself freely to the liquor.
It was yet too early far them to make the venture.

CHAPTER'IV.
TEE MIDNIGHT RAID.

AMER another hour‘had elapsed, the men arose, and open-

ing a. heavy door in the rear of the building, entered a sort of

l tunnel, of perhaps seven feet in hight by five wide, excavated
from the hill. After a few yards this suddenly expanded into V
a lgood-sized vault, dimly lighted by rude lamps.

V The roof was braced up by. numerous strong timbers, and
at one end were a number of rude stalls, where were secured
a score or more of horses, although there was accommodation
for thrice that number. At the opposite extremity was a
strong slab door apparently set in the earth, and which was

, secured by strong bars and braces.

'  The animals were speedily saddled and bridled, when they

' - were led forth from the cave, through the building. As be

mounted, Captain Kit turned to the two men who were to re—

 

 

e ‘ main at the building, and said:
0 “ Now, boys, you‘must be more cautious than usual, to-night.
Keep well barred, and don‘t admit anybody unless they give
Ve all the signals. ' If our plans succeed, this night’s, work will
1‘?‘ net a tidy little sum for each one of us. You will share
“1' equally with the rest, and have less work as well as risk.
‘3'“ Can I depend [upon you ?”
ye' ‘ “Mighty right ye kin, cap’n. You’ll find the den as safe
‘ l0 as you leave it. Tom ’nd me kin beat of? any who may ’tact
we us hyar." ' ' ‘ \
' “ Thatwill not happen, I’m sure. But if they. giveyou
:6“ l «any’tronble before we get back, do the best you can; You

\ may look for us about day-dawn. That '1] do now. Go in
. . , and close up; Come, boys, we must go. A long road lies be-
3 a! ' “tore 08. mid we have no time to lose l" ‘

 

 

I

' 84 memes“ m. >

Red Hirble and Captain Kit Separated, each followed, by
half a score men, and rode rapidly toward their destination.
With the reader’s kind permission, we willfollow the latter.

That leader seemed well acquainted with the lay of the
house and grounds, and led the way at once to the most feasi-
ble point of the horse corral, as well as the safest for their
purpose.

In these days of mammoth stock-farms, the scale of Hiram
Pierson’s operations would be looked upon with contempt and
derision. But at the time treated of he was accounted a well

‘ to—do man.

His wealth consisted in most of cattle and sheep, but he I

had some few horses, more for home use than sale. These

-—prob'ably fifty in number—were corraled every night to I

guard against their straying, either with or without help.

The cattle, at this season, were allowed to. keep their range,
both day and night. There were men whose regular duty
was to watch both corral and pastures, at night, but oftener
they would sleep the time away then keep honest guard.

"Mose," muttered Captain Kit, “ 'light and let down the
fence. Boys, half of you come with me-—-bring your ropes
along—and help select the brutes. ' The rest will stay here to
fix them fit for traveling.”

The men selected rode silently through the gap in the cor-
rel, knowing that while mounted they could succeed in their
purpose easier than when afoot. As an offset, they ran more
Iisk at being seen and made a target of, but for this they lit-
tle cared.

They were generally men who loved danger for danger's
sake, for the mere excitement of the thing, and now when
this was strengthened by the knowledge that they were work-
ing for their benefit, it would be a great danger that could
awe them.

“Take ‘your, time, boys,” called out Captain Kit, in a
guarded tone; “ there is no hurry. Pick and choose. We
can’t manage more than two apiece when pressed so hard for
time as we will be now. Take the flower of the lot, and be
quick.” '

One by, one the best looking animals were selected, and
caught, then passed ovor to those who stood outside. In this

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

  
  
 
    

 

 

 
  
 
  

 

 

suz
811C

int

  

 

1 0mm  m mom ‘ '5

manner nearly a score had been secured, without the slightest
disturbance.

But then there came a sudden interruption. A loud cry
arose from one end of the corral, and a voice houted out:

,“ Hello, tharl What you— Thieves—hoss-thievesl ' Help
hyar !" '

As he yelled, the somuolent watchman sprung to his feet
and discharged his rifle at the marauders. I

“ Take those you’ve got, boys, and travel I” yelled Captain
Kit. “ I’ll stop this fellow’s mouth and then follow you.
Ride as though the devil was driving you with a hot poker—

. off with you 1"
The outlaws, though knowing their young leader for so

, short a time, had learned to obey him, and without demur or

pausing to ask his reasons. And then the significant bur-1°
of the ragged bullet so close over their heads, told them
what they might expect when the household was once fairly
aroused.

With wild yells and boots they sped away, half-leading,
half-driving the terrified and snorting animals they had stolen.
With whickers of alarm the remainder rushed for the gap

’ and dashed madly away over the prairie, neighing and scream-

ing Wildly.

Captain Kit urged his snorting horse toward the spot where
he could distinguish the dusky figure of the watchman, whose
cries and shouts were still being sent forth.

The outlaw knew that, could he silence this man before the
others came up, his men were safe for the present. They
would gain such a distance that pursuit would be useless.

“ Curse you i" he hissed, as he leveled his revolver at the
figure, “ stop that infernal screeching—do you hear 1’”

“ Who air you ll” ‘ I

“ Captain Kit—who sends you to the devil, his brother l"
snarled the outlaw,vas he fired. -

The" man staggered; he did not fall.‘ Then his arm rose
and a bright flash accompanied the sharp report. With a
halflstifled'yell, Captain Kit threw up his arms, and reeling
in the saddle for a moment, fell headlong to the ground,

His horse day ,ced madly around the inclosure for a short

“spell, and then wheeling, fled through the gap, uttering a

 

.,,38

t (V , t ' V .
NIGHT-HAWK ‘Krr. “

‘ shrill yell of triumph and rejoicing at being freed frdm a crue.
rider and master,
With a about of exultation, the watchman sprung forward
and stooped over the prostrate form. But he uttered an ex-
' clamation of wondering surprise and started back as he caught
sight of the pale and ghastly face revealed by .the moon’s
rays. 1
The entire household had been aroused by the confused up~
roar. and now flocked, half-dressed, toward the spot, hearing
such weapons as had lain most convenient to their hands.

At their head strode the tall form of the planter, Hiram Pier-'-

8011.

“ Hallo! there—you watchman—what does all this mean T”
he cried, as he reached the gate of the corral. “ Where are
you i”

“ Hyar, J edge,” said the man, advancing.

“ That you, Myrick? But what’s up? Where are the
horses all gone to ‘3”

“ To the devil, I reckon, post-haste!
say whar else.”

“And the tiring? Confound it, man, speak out! What
is the matter ?" raged the Judge, opening the gate and enter-
ing. ’

“It means jest this. A lot of the critters hes bin stole-—
t‘others hes run away 1”

“ Stolen—and you here? What were you doing—where
were you i” ‘ i ‘

“ I war hya‘r. Mebbe you heerd my shot. But they war
too many fer one man to stop. They rid away—thet is, all
but one on ’em,” slowly added the herder. '

“ But one—and where is' he 1’”

“ Out thar—lyin‘ down, sorter."

“ You shot the scoundrel ?"

“ ’Pears like I did. Anyway. he dropped as I tetched trig-
ger: ButI’m dub’ous ’at I’ve did a harm, Jedge,” said Myrick,
showing the wayi ’ .

' “ How so? He was a thief—wasn't he 7"

f‘ I thought so. Anyhow, he shot at me fust. He must 'a’
knowed ’at I nlver pull twieet on one critter. He’s see'd in.
shoot store." ' ' ' ' r 

‘Twould be hard to

the

:xgr,‘ -  ,  

'5“

i 5W?” 51

 
 
 
 

was, when asromman. 87 I

“ Then you know him i” eagerly added the Judge, as they
advaneed toward the spot where the outlaw leader still lay.

“ Don’t I? Haven’t I rid with him for n’arly a year?”

The Judge stooped over the senseless body, and then he too
drew back with a cry of surprised horror. He too had evi-
iently recognized the man.

“ My God I Myrick, it is Kirk Dalton l”

‘ “ Jest so,” gloomin responded the borderer, a tremor per-
ceptible in his voice. “ ’Tis indeed the lad! Ef I’d ’a’ known
who he was, I’d 'a’ thought twicet afore pullin’ on him. But
what couldI do? His face was in the dark—he rid at me
so f’erce an‘ ’tarmined, like, an’ told me‘ he was Cap’n Kit or
some seeh outlandish name, an’ swore he’d send me to the
devil. I’ve got his mark hyar—he shot fast—as you kin see
fer yourself. The ball creased my neck. Then I—I dropped
the poor cuss l”

“ You did right—perfectly right, Myrick, and no' one can

'3 t ,, blame you,” warmly cried the Judge. “He deserved it ‘all—

1! but my God! I didn’t think that bad of him I A horse-thief
to x, -—a murderer I” ’ ‘

 “ Look—look! He opens his eyes i" eagerly cried Myrick, '-

   
 
 
   
  
 
 
 
  
 

‘93 p kneeling beside the outlaw. “ He ain’t dead—I didn’t kill
36", him! Praise the Lord fer that l" 7
.' “ It would have been better for him, perhaps, if you had,”
m" L gfoomily added Pierson. “ Death is better by a'bullet than a
 I"

he” 7 “ A rope for him—hang Kirk Dalton 1’"
“Yes! He is a thief—he has stolen my horses. That is a
’ w” - crime punished only by death, here, as you should know .
'13: 9‘“ Your word will hang him i”
,“ But there may be some mistake—thar must be, I tell ye!
Kirk Dalton niver was a hose-thief l”
“ But you say he tried to kill you—that you saw his men
run off the. cattle l”
<1 ‘F‘g' “ I may hev bin mistook. I was confused—I hed bin asleep.
Kym.“- No, no, Jedge, the lad is innercent. He’d niver bin so mean
4 as, thet, ’mounts to! He kin ’xplain ital], I don’t doubt. I’ll
‘ “Lewiarhekinl” H
In?“ a \ Captain, Kit now raised his head, and as he beheld those who
seed?!" 4 surrounded ‘lfim, heglared around in astonishment. Then the

 

 

 
 

'85 I uranium in.
truth flashed upon his mind, and he attempted to draw I pit-
tol, uttering a snarl of rage and fury.

But before he could use it, a strong hand clutched his wrist,
and wrenched it from his grasp. Then in obedience to their

master’s commands, the servants securely bound the outlaw,

with his own belt. Then the little party returned toward the
ranche, which was now fully lighted up, and the scene of a
great bustle, as the women seriants, greatly alarmed and con-
fused, ‘ran to and fro. ~

“ Bring him right into my room,” said the Judge, entering
the building. “ I wish to question him.

“ But the hose critters Y”

“ It is too late now to start after them. They are beyond
sight and hearing, long before this.
light and then take the trail and run them to earth.”

Captain Kit was carried into the room and deposited in a

chair, still bound. Though there burned a strong glare in his ,

eyes, a half mocking smile wreathed his lips.
“ Well sir, what have you to say for yourself 1’” began the
Judge. “ What were you doing in my corral l’” ‘

“Taking a look at your horseflesh—that is all,” was the

cool reply.

_“ You have seen them often enough, Kirk Dalton.
know what may be the result of this night’s work i"

“ Better than you do, perhaps!” .

“ You are a horse-thief, caught in the act, and you must
know the punishment for such a crime.”

“ I (lo—a hempen rope cravat, and a dance on nothing.
But the reed is not yet planted that will grow the rope for my
neck.”

“The sun will never set for you again, Kirk Daltoan

solemnly added the Judge.

“ It will, and I’ll tell you why. I am horse-thief, if you
please, but I can muster four score good and true men who
wouldface the devil himself if I bade them do so. We are a
regularly organized band, and each member is sworn to sacri-
fice his life, lf‘need be, to aid a comrade. Their motto is—
bbod for W! If I am harmed, they will sweep’this entire
lettlementvfrom the face ofths earth.

We will wait until day- V

Do you ‘

Tim is my sategnardr'v
“ I doubt your speaking ‘the‘truth, 'but were 1 muted that

 

    

  
    
 
 
 
    
  
 
   
 
 

 

 

  
 

   
 
 
 
 
  
 
   
    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
  

A comm KW. as:
it mu so, you should not escape punishment. I have treated
you like an honest man and a gentleman, before this, and now
you turn upon me and try to rob me. Kirk Dalton, I thought
better things of you !”

“ You say you have treated me like a gentleman? Is it so
polite a favor to swear you will hunt a man with dogs—that
you wiL have your servants kick him ofl‘ the place i" sneerod
the outlaw. ’

“ Your actions since show that I was not far wrong in so
dcing.” .

“ Not so. It was because of those threats that I did this.
I told you then that I would not be the only sufi‘erer, and I

i am not. Half your horses are gone now. When my boys

' come back, they will make a clean sweep. I tell you, Jud
Pigeon, you are doomed! -

, “ You will only live to behold your wealth gone—your
house burned, and your lands laid waste. You will live to
see your child—the one whom you thought too good for me
,——the wife—ha! ha !-—-of myself, or else some of the hand.
You will see this, but not much more. You will meet what
you threatened me with—a hempen cord and a swinging
bough !"

‘ “Kirk, lad," said Myrick, coming forward, “ don't talk that

a—way. Say that you don't mean them words. You ain’t a

hose~thief’!” -

“ You are the man who shot me ?”
“ Yes, but I didn’t know it was you. E! I hed, I‘d 'e.’

spotted myself as soon i"

, Just at this juncture the door was flung violently open and

1 Carrie Pierson entered. With an agonized shriek she sprung

v

T ‘ forward, and kneeling beside the outlaw, flung her arms around

‘ his neeky crying:

“ 0h! Kirk. what does this mean 7 Why are you here-—
‘and a prisoner i” ‘

“ It means that he’s a convicted horse-thief,” coldly added

 

 

 

the Judge, as he strove to loosen his daughter’s arms. “ Oar

mWe—pmymroomr’ ":

‘f No-I'will not! You want to murder him! You shall
while I live! I love him—love him!" ‘

' The prisoner gently bowed his head and'pressedakiss'uponr

   
    

     
 

s,

   

 

40 ' \ mar-mm: km

the upturned face of the pale and trembling" maiden. As he
. did so, a great drop of clotted blood fell upon her arm.

“ My God! he is wounded!
gasped Carrie, her arms falling ne'rveless to her side as the
gory blotch caught her eye. -

“ No, darling, ’tis only a' scratch. I am not hurt,” mur-
mured the outlaw, and his arms moved as though he would
raise her up.

The Judge stooped and raised the fainting form in his
arms, and turned to leave the room. Carrie roused up at
this, and struggling desperately, strove to return to her lover.

,“ No—I will not go! You will murder him—my Kirk!
Let me go to him—he is wounded-he needs me !”

But despite Carrie’s endeavors to free herself, she was home
from the room in the strong arms of her parent. The pris~
oner struggled fiercely to burst his‘ bonds, but the Stout leather
belt was true and would not give.

He strove to rise, and doing so, fell to the floor, where he

was pounced upon by Myrick and several of the servants.
He was then raised to the chair once more.

He cast a quick, surprised glance around upon the faces of
those near him, and noted a peculiar expression upon that of
Myrick. Then the borderer withdrew to the further end of
the room. ‘ '

The Judge now reantered, and again commenced question-
ing the outlaw, but received no satisfaction. Captain Kit
would not admit being one of the thieves, nor would he in-
form who were the others.

. “Sam,” added Pierson, addressing a servant, “take this

man out to the stables and guard him well. Keep your eye

upon him all the time, and if he attempts to escape, shoot
' him without mercy. I will answer for it."

4‘ You will answer for it sooner than you expect, mayhap,”
significantly retorted the prisoner.

“ Take him out.”

The outlaw was led to the door with a firm grip upon'

either shoulder, but then a startling occurrence-took place.

As he. reached ‘the door,'leading out upon the veranda, the

desperado suddenly tripped up his two guardsrand shook
their graspfrom his person. '

 

You have killed him !”

 
 
 

  

   
 
 
 
 
 
  

 
  
   
 
 

 

 

' herdsman.

 

A sum Arm‘A LAUGH. I’ ’ 41‘

Then taming, with a fierce yell of rage and defiance, he

leveled a pistol full at the head of the Judge, as that person
sprung forward. At the report, Pierson fell to the floor with
a faint groan, and then. before a hand could be raised to stop
him, Captain Kit had vanished through the open doorway.
v 'There came back a single taunting laugh, and then all was
still. As the servants flocked to the entrance, they heard the
quick trampling of iron-shod hoofs, a shrill neigh, and ther
another laugh of defiant exultation. '

The outlaw was free!

CHAPTER V.
A Burns ALTERNATIVE.

Tim excitement was intense at this bold stroke for liberty,
and no one thought of pursuit until it was too late. In the
night the daring outlaw could easily have baflled them.

At first it was feared that the Judge had beep killed, but
as one of the more collected bathed his head, their hearts
grew lighter as they perceived no great harm had been done.
He was only stunned, not injured to any extent. '

The outlaw had not paused to secure an aim, and even this
hurried shot told how skilled he was with the weapon. One .
little half-inch lower, and the Judge would have died.

Myrick was the only one who could have explained how
the prisoner had so suddenly 'freed himself, and how he had
come by the pistol after being disarmed. But he kept [his
counsel and managed to pick up and secure the leathern belt

I , that had fallen to the floor.

The smooth-cut‘edges would have betrayed too much. As
he stooped over Captain Kit, the borderer had freed him and
slipped the pistol into his hand. ' .

Like most of the men about the settlement, Myrick loved
Kirk Dalton, and would not see him die a shameful death,
knowing that his band was the principal meansvof bringing
him there. He firme behaved that this man was‘his fellow

‘ l

 

42 NIGHT-HAWK m. ,

Pursuit was made after the horse-thieves at day-dawn, but
the trail was lost on the stretch of shingle that covered the
ground near the lower ford, and at length the quest was
abandoned. After this, night and day the stock was guarded;
no fear of sleeping on post now.

Carrie Pierson‘had been prostrated by the fearful blow,
and had taken to her bed. The knowledge of her lover‘s
being a criminal was indeed bitter, but still her love did not
falter. -

He had won her heart’s love. Let him do what he might,
she would never change. She believed that he would yet
prove innocent; that there was some fearful mistake.

Nothing had been seen by the settlers of Captain Kit since
that night. Some believed that he had fled the country,
upon being unmasked. Others shook their heads and main-
tained a wise silence. '

The settlers at the hill-foot still came and went, seeming
to shun sll intercourse with their neighbors, and was sus-
pected more strongly than ever.

It was about mid-forenoon of a day perhaps a week subse-
quent to the midnight raid, that a, strong body of horsemen
filed along'the path leading from the outlaw den, and took up
their route toward the settlement. They numbered over a
score, all told, and were thoroughly armed.

At their head, riding the strong chestnut mustang that was
noticed in the ,first chapter, was Captain Kit. His bronzed
facewas a little paler, and less full, perhaps, than usual, and
a snowy bandage could be seen beneath the brim of his soft
felt hat; but nothing else told of the sev¢re wound he had
received so recently. ‘

At their head he soon reached the ranehe of Judge Pierson,
and abruptly drawing rein, he turned to his lieutenant, Re
Hirble. saying: . . '

“Do you remain here, Hirble, and keep the boys from
Ltrnying or doing any mischief.

derstand ?” .
“ Mighty right I do'l” responded the red-faced and red-
hsired giant. I v , '
“ Mind—unless I give the signal, you are to do no harm,”

  

If you hear me whistle, '
' then charge the house and clear every thing before you. Un-y

 

 
    

    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

br
on
she

wil.
able
3 you

Well

mine
u I

 

 

 

\

A warn-«m Business. 43
continued Captain Kit, as he leaped from the saddle and
strode rapidly toward the ranche, unheodlng the frightened I
ebon-hued faces that were peering at him. , «

Running lightly up the verandah steps, he entered the open
door, crossed the hall and turned the knob of ‘the door lead-
ing into the J udge’s “study.” He did not falter or hesitate,
showing an intimate knowledge of the interior of the build-
mg. ' 1

Opening the door he entered, and then noiselessly closed it
behind him. However, the planter, who was seated at his
desk, was aroused, and turning, Judge Pierson sprung to his
feet as he recognized his visitor.

“ You here? How dare you, after—” he began, in angry

. surprise, as he reached toward a loaded revolver that lay upon

the desk.

“ I dare more than you think, Judge,” coolly replied the
outlaw, as he drew his pistol. “ Drop that—~if you touch it
you are a dead mani I came here upon a peaceful mission,
but if you force me to extremities, you will suffer, not I l”

“A peaceful mission—you, and to me i” exclaimed the
farmer.

“Yes; but before I make it known, just glance out the
window and tell me what you see.”

The Judge turned his head as bade, and then started back
with a cry of surprise. '

Who are those men ?"

“ They are honest people who call me Captain. I merely
brought them along to ensure a. decent reception. They have
orders to remain quiet unless I signal them. That signal I
shall not give unless you force me to do so. But if I
must, they will clean this ranche out in a twinkling. ' Now
will you hear me i’”

“ I must. But be speedy. Your room is far more agree-
able than your company,” bitterly responded Pierson.

“ More truthful than polite; but let that pass. I have
you in a pinch, and it would be a pity to tie your tongue as

> ‘Well as hands But take a seat; this business may require

some time to dispose of it satisfactorily.”
“ I prefer to stand.” ‘
‘t And I prefer that you sit. I am a little weak yet, from

r

 

 

 

men's-HAWK KIT.

 

,44

touched his bandaged head; “ but, I could not be so impolite
as to sit while you remain standing.”

With a glance of deadly hatred, Judge Pierson resumed
his chair. Captain Kit laughed; low and mellow it sounded.

“ Lucky for me it is that looks can not kill. Remarkably
keen eyes, those of yours, Judge. But a truce to badinage.
You remember upon what terms we last parted—I mean in
this room 1’”

“ Yes, and in the other, too, when you tried to murder
me 1”

“ It may he as well not to recall that, my friend. The
thought is not the most pleasant to me, and besides, long ago,
I swore an oath never to leave any thing half-done-to com-
plete whatever I attempted; and the fancy might strike me
to make my word good in this case as well.

“But never mind that now. I mean here, where I asked
you to give me the .hand of your daughter, in marriage, You
have not changed your mind since ?”

“ Changed—are you crazy? Have your deeds since then
been such as to render a change likely? You steal my horses,
shoot me, and then 331: such a question ?" cried Pierson, an-
grily.

“ As I said once, let that pass. If you have not changed,
you will soon. You noticed my men out there ? Well, I
can muster full four times the number, any or all of whom
would gladly burn this shell over your head, did I but give

4 the word, and not be over-particular whether only rats were
scorched or not. What I say they will do.” ‘

“ Do you come here only to tell me this ‘3"

“No. That is only the prologue. It was necessary, I see,
to impress upon your mind that I am not the poor, friendlese
eaquem that you once knew. If I am a horse-thief, I am. a
king among them. I command; they obey.”

, “ I believe you said as much before. You are tiresome, as
well as insolent, Kirk Dalton.” .

“ Short and sweet, is your taste, then? Very well; it ll
immaterial to me. Then, to come to the point, I love your
daughter, Carrie." .

Pierson glared at the outlaw.

 

this favor,” and as he removed his hat, the outlaw lightly '

 
     
   

 
  
   
  
   
 
  
 

 

 

;ive
rere

L See)
dless
km. a

n8. 9‘

A amen AL‘rnRNA'rrvn.

“And more—your daughter Carrie loves me."

“ A lie—a base lie I"

“ You know that I do ,not lie. You have heard her say
as much herself,” coolly replied the desperado; although there
was an angry glow in his dark eye that told how little ht
relished this plain language.

“ Go on—finish quick, or I shall choke l” muttered thl
Judge, trying in vain to compose himself.

“ Don’t; it might be disagreeable—to you.
ask you to give me your daughter Carrie."

“ Never! I will die first i" ‘
“ You certainly will die if you do not, and then lose her
besides. I tell you that you have no choice. If you refuse
me now, I will scorch you out of here; I will give my men
free license to act as they Will. There will not be a hoof left
> you—‘not one stick upon another of the building. Your
slaves will be run off and sold, and you will be roasted at the
fire made by your own house l" ' l
The Judge could not speak. He seemed to be suffocating.
His fingers worked convulsively at his throat.
“ On the other hand, if you give your consent, I will dis-
band my men, and settle down here as an honest and peace-
ful citizen. I agree to protect you from all other persons,
and treat you as an honest father—in-law. Carrie loves me.
She will gladly consent to this. It will he a joy to her, and
will save you from all the evil I threatened.”
Still the Judge did not speak. .
“ She will be mine anyhow. If she will not leave you of
her own free will, I will carry her off. But I should not like
to do that. I love her, and would make her happy. If you
, are sensible, all will be well. If not—I have told you
~ the consequences, and I swear that I will make my word
- good l”
E “ You are a devil, Kirk Dalton l" muttered the Judge, great
drops of perspiration starting out over his face.
oHe saw but too plainly that the outlaw had spoken no more

Well, then, I

 

than the truth. He had the power to make his threats good
against whatever force the honest settlers could gather.

And that he would be as good as his word, no one who
heard this bitter speech, and saw his stern-set face, could

 

 

46 mam-mm m.
doubt t r a moment Death and ruin stared the Judge full
in the face. .

True, there was an alternative, but it was one that could
not be accented. A thousand deaths rather! '

“ You are about half right, I believe. Judge,” laughed Cap-
tain Kit. “ But never mind that. Time passes, and I have
not yet received your answer, I believe. You have heard all
—-—now your decision.”

“ It is quickly told. Do your worst; I defy you and your! V
gang of cut-throats l” desperately cried Pierson.

“ You are foolish, man—and worse than foolish. Remem-
ber that she will be mine anyhow, whether you consent or,
not. The only effect of your opposition will be to insure
your own death. Reflect well before you answer,” coldly re-
plied the outlaw chief.

“ I have reflected—I have answered. I will not submit to

such a rascally persecution. I will enter into no agreement-
or compact with a murdering horse-thief l”
. “You are excited now, Judge, and do not know what you
say. Still, .1 advise you to bridle your tongue. I can stand
a good deal, and know how to make allowance for men in
your unpleasant predicament, but if you go too far, it will be
the worse for you.

" Now I tell you what I will do. I will give you one
week from today to reflect upon my proposition, and then I
will come for your decision. I warn you to pause and think
twice before you reject it, for I will be as good as my word.

“ Another thing. Beware how you attempt to fool me.

I will have your actions well watched, and not a. person will
stir outside the building, but that I will know of it. If you
attempt to flee, or to send away your daughter, that will be
the signal, and my men will be turned loose to work their
pleasure ‘ L

“ But I have said enough. I guess you. understand me. Be-
member, in just one week from to-day, I call for your answer.
Until then, good-by. Please remember me to your charm:
ing daughter—mg Comb—ha! ha i" and with an ironical
laugh, Captain. Kit turned and strode toward the door. V,

Judge Pierson eagerly clutched the revolver from his desk,

Ind turning. corked and leveled it at the outlaw. As the may  _
I .' i

 

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called
weeks
old ma

01": Of;

The
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AT wt. 47 ‘

tallie click met his ear, the desperado turned with a» sneer,

saying, in a 11071de tone:

“ Fire, Judge. It must be a great pleasure for a man to
pronounce his own death-doom. My men are only waiting
for some such sound, and I warn you, they will make a clean
job of it."

The Judge stood glaring at his strange antagonist, with the
pistol leveled full at his head. Captain Kit ‘did not quail or
flinch an atom, although he could look straight into the dark
tube of death.

“Come, old fellow, that is enough. You can’t shoot me—
you are afraid to touch the trigger. Drop that, and act (le-
cent. Drop it, I say i" impatiently cried the outlaw, advanc-
ing a step.

As if compelled to obey against his will by one more pow-
erful, the Judge sufi‘ered his arm to droop, and then he sunk
back into his chair. With a low, taunting laugh, Captain
Kit turned and left the room. ‘

Gazing out through the window Pierson beheld the daring
outlaw vault lightly to the saddle of his magnificent chestnut,
and then ride ate mad gallop away over the plain toward the
hill retreat. >

As the riders vanished from view, he bowed his 'head upon
his hands and sunk into a bitter and painful reverie.

CHAPTER VI.
.f JOSH CRANE AT worm.

UNCLE J osri CRANE appeared unusually restless and fidgety
as he strolled aimlessly around the little rude cabin which he
called his home. Full twenty times during the last two
weeks had the worthy Mistress Hepsy Wondered whether the
old man had not “ gone an‘ got ’ligion," he acted so queer and
out of sorts.

The truth was he had received a severe blow in learning

. of ink young friend’s sudden change from an honest, steady.

 

 
  

   

48 NIGHT-HAWK m.

trustworthy settler, to a pitiful, mischief-making horse-thief, it
not murderer. He had loved the boy so strongly and deeply,
that it was very hard to bear.

At first he had been inclined to doubt even his own senses,
but now he was no longer alone. There were full half a
score who could prove the black deeds upon the herder. '

This last afi'air—that of robbing Pierson’s corral—had set
the old man’s wits to work, and he strove in vain to see his
way clearly; the mist was too thick. At the best there was
only the shadow of a plan in his mind, but one of which he
hoped to make something.

He, like the rest of the honest settlers, had entertained his
suspicions regarding those located near the bill‘s foot, and a
short time‘since, while passing by the place, Crane had ob-
served Kirk Dalton ride directly to the log-house. Could it
be that he was staying there?

At length old Crane abruptly paused and a glow of de-
cision overspread his countenance as he muttered a few words
inaudiny to himself. Then he entered his little cabin.

“ Hepsy, old gal,” he said, as he took down his long, heavy
rifle from the deer-horn brackets above the fire-place, closely
examining the state of its lock while speaking,“ whenever
you feel like it jest go to roost. Don’t wait up fer me.”

“ Whar’ you goin’, pap l?” the little old woman rejoined,
with an uneasy look upon her face and still bright black
eyes. .

“ Don't ax questions, Hcpsy. ’Taint no good habit.
Mought make a feller tell a lie, fust thing.”

“ Josh, you’re goin’ to meddlin’ with them fellers. Don’t
do it. They hain’t pestered you, an’ if they’re the kidm y
you think, the sooner you let ’em be, the better.”

“ I‘m old enough an’ ugly enough, too, Hepsy, to take kZ-er
0’ myself. But you rest easy. I won’t git inter no fuss. I’m
goin’ to play moke, like, an’ see ef ’lis raaly Kjrk as is stop
pin‘ thar’. I hope ’tain’t, for onless I greatly miss my guess,
that is a red-hot hole 0' ho'ncts.” _

 

 
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
  
 
  
 

“ But you said you see him ?” . . _

“ So I did, an’ at the Three Pines, too; but he sw’ars I
didn‘t. It cain’t be thet thar‘s another feller so much like
him ; an’ yit it must be. Don’t seem like the boy could ’l

 
  

    
 

’t

01'
m
In

a I
like
i 31'

 

 

 

 

changed so mighty suddint. But of I git a good squint‘at
this ere feller, I'll see ef it’s Kirk. You know the scar. he
had on his right hand—whar the brin’le steer tored it? I
kin tell by thet."

“ You’ll be keerful, pap ‘2”
woman.

“ Sure. Why fer not? I hain‘t tired o’ livin’ yit, ef I be
well nigh seventy y’ar, an' you air a leetle sharp o’ the tongue
onc’t in a while,” chuckled Uncle Josh, as he turned and left
the house.

He strode along rapidly, and yet with a wondrous degree

anxiously added the old

of lightness for one who had passed through the trials and I

struggles of seven decades. He was following the same path
as had Kirk Dalton when attacked by the outlaws led by
Cock-eyed Smatters, but then abruptly leaving the beaten
trace, he plunged into a dense growth of underbrush, heading
so as to approach the outlaws‘ den from the further, or south-
western side.

He had no plans mapped out, but trusted all to the spur
of the moment. His principal object in the scout, was to
gain a fair sight at the strange man called Captain Kit,
and to learn whether or no he was also Kirk Dalton, as be
half feared would prove the case.

There was a regularly-defined plan, or rather skeleton of a
plan, turning and twisting itself in the cunning brain of the
old hunter, that he believed he would yet be able to carry
out. More to confirm this resolve than aught else, had he
entered upon his venture this night.

Entertaining a sincere feeling of friendship for Judge Pier-
son, Crane had heard of the threats of Captain Kit with in-
dignation, not unmingled with a spice of uneasiness. He
knew that, did the outlaws chief push matters, he could easily
make his threats good. ‘

As the old hunter neared the vicinity of the outlaws’ den,
be slackened his pace and increased his caution. Thoroughly
acquainted with the lay of the gro‘und, he resolved to ap.

preach the building upon its south side, and then, trust to for- ,

tune, aided by cunning, to gain the desired information.
As yet not one of the setllers—and by this we mean the more
honest. portion of the community—had been allowed to up

UNCLE rose on AN nxrnnrrron. 49 ’

 
  

   

    
  
   
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  

 

   
 

‘ w NIGHT-HAWK arr.
preach within arm’s length of the building. When so rudely
repulsed, their curiosity was not sulficiently strong to incite
them to a second attempt.

Dropping upon his stomach, Josh Crane glided with the
silent caution of a serpent toward the building. He could
now and then discern a bright ray of light as the door
opened, and could hear the sounds of many voices in excited
conversation or revelry.

Evidently the outlaws were having a good time, and bent
upon enjoying themselves. A grim smile shot athwart the
rugged countenance of the 31d hunter, telling that he was by
no means displeased at this fact.

In a few minutes Crane gained cover of the south wall,
and crouched beneath shelter of a scrubby hush. Then his
hands were slowly and carefully passed along the wall.

A little exclamation broke from his lips, as if at some
gratifying discovery. Then he drew his knife and set to
work. v

He had found that the house was built of logs, unhewnv

the interstices widely “ chinked ” with blocks of wood, then
daubed over with clay. Upon this hope, his plans had been
founded.

With his knife, Crane cautiously picked out the dried rnud,
piece by piece, until a small block was left free. This he
also removed, and then placed his eye to the aperture. ‘

The room was fully lighted up, and around the mde table,
sat over a dozen men, all more or less under the influence of
liquor, and still paying assiduous court to the subtle dcmon
that wielded such influence over them.

He could recognize several of the number as men of whom
he had long been suspicious, and some of whom he had seen
with Kirk Dalton on the night of the stranger’s murder at
the Three Pines. A shade of anxiety oversprend his honest
countenance as he glanced around the room.

He dreaded lest his worst fears should be confirmed, that
he would find his young friend and Captain Kit to be one
and the same man.
pointed, most agreeably.

The outlaw leader was not in this room, and if in the outer
. ‘ he kept so close that Crane could not catch a glimpse of him

 

 

 

For the time, however, he was disap- V

 

 

 

 

 

  

\
m smxonow. 51

Satisfied of this, Josh turned his attention toward the convero
nation of those nearest to him.

“ It was a good haul thet we made that night, at Pierson’s
an’ Claiborne’s,” grunted Bob Rattlesnake, or Carter, as he had
been christened. “ The boss was lucky in gittin’ off as he did
Why didn’t you tellers ride down thet cuss, Myrick, afore he
luck the cap’n ?"

“Wal, you see its jest this a-way,” replied Roaring Sam.
“ He told us to skedaddle when the feller hollered out, an‘ he’d
settle his hash. We did, in course, 'ca’se the cap’n ain’t a fel«
let to be fooled with; not much! We heerd the shootin’, but
thought ’twas him—see? We rid on, an' s’pected him to jine
us, every minnu; but he didn‘t, an’ so as we knowed it'd do
no good to turn back then, we kep’ on an? left the critters as
told. Then we kem back hyar an’ found the boss all right,
'cept a skulp wound. He said as how we did jest right.”

“ Thet’s it? I didn‘t know jestly how it kem about aflore.
But now how is this? 18 he thet Kirk Dalton, or not 9”
whispered the fellow, with an uneasy glance around him.
“ An’ at so, what kind 0' a cussed game is he 'a—playin’, any-
how ?” ‘ I ~

“ You wont none 0‘ you blow 1*"

A general murmur disclaimed any such intentions, and then
Roaring Sam continued:

“ Wal, you know how Cock-eye an’ Yank was rubbed out,
don’t ye? I jest got cl'ar by the skin 0’ my teeth. Ye see
the cap’n kem to me an’ told me thet thar was a young feller '
as he wanted put out outer his way, fer fear he’d make mis-
chief. I axed who, an’ he said Kirk Dalton.

“ He told us over an’ over ag’in thet we wasn’t to hurt the
. teller on no ’eount. Ef we couldn’t take him alive to let ’im
go nn’ wait fer another chance. He said thet he'd shoot the
teller as hurted even a ha’r o’ the boy‘s head. I axed him
what was his reasons, but he told me thet it was none 0’ my
darned bizness; thet of I was afeerd to take the job he’d give
it to some other teller who wasn’t a coward.

“He picked out the boys as he said must help me, an’ they
’ , ,war them as hed made him mad fer some reason or other. It
’ kinder set me‘to thinkin’, thet did, an’ I see’d through it a’tero
ward, too late. We found the man an’ he faced us like he '

 
 
 

 

  

    

  

[2 NIGHT-HAWK m.

knowed he was safe. You know the rest. He whipped us,
’ea’se we didn’t dar’ use the we’pons. I got cl’ar as I told ye,
but t’other was killed.

“ Now I hain’t sech a dumecl fool, but what I kin see
through a hole, at so be it’s big enough an’ straight enough.
I tell you (bet Oap'n Kit is Kirk Dalton, an’ thet it was a put-
up job fer him to git us all outen his way. I’ll take my
’davy thet they’re one an’ the same feller l”

“ I b’lieve ye, Sam. We must watch him an' see, what
game he’s up to. I don't like it a hit, an’ I think he’s playin’
things so '5 to git us all inter limbo, while he’ll fatten on what
we’ve made.”

Uncle Josh listened to this conversation with great interest.
He found that others besides him had suspected that the two
were one; and these men should know, if anybody.

Just then he saw the door open and Captain Kit enter.
After a glance around the room, the outlaw leader motioned
to one of the men, and ~Entered the apartment beside which
Crane was concealed.

He was followed by a tall, muscular man, a stranger to
Crane. It was, however, none other than the lieutenant, Red
Hirble. -

Captain Kit drew a. rude bench away from the table, at
which all conversation had suddenly ceased, and shoved it
against the wall nearly in front of the hole made by the spy.
Then seating himself, Captain Kit spoke:

“ Sit down, Hirble. I want to speak to you, and if you
stand, all those gaping fools can hear me. That’s better.
Now how about that job I told you of? Have you done any
thing toward it since I’ve been gone?”

“ No, simply beca’se I couldn't find him," was the low reply.

“ But he is around here—he must be. If he had left we
would some of us have noticed him. I would give five liun~
dred dollars to have him here, safe shut up in the little room
in the vault f’

“ Ef it kin he did, you shell hev him," replied the tall outlaw.

“ Well, I think I can give you a hint of where he is. But
not here. I don’t like the looks of Bob Rattlesnake and Sam,

yonder. Do you go out and wait for meat the spring beneath

- the live-oak. I will be there in a few moments."

   

 

 

 

m uvn-oax BY run ammo. ' ‘ ‘ 53

Josh Crane fairly quivered with suppressed joy and anxiety,
. as he hearkened to this conversation. He believed they were
referring to none other than Kirk Dalton, and the last words
» f of the outlaw chief resolved him to attend the rendezvous, al-
though as a silent partner.

Possibly he might glean some important news. At any
rate there could be no harm in trying.

He understood the allusion to the live-oak and spring per-
fectly. More than once had he quenched his thirst there and
rested his weary limbs from the chase beneath the shady
tree.

To'this point then he must go, and leaving his post of ob-
servation, Crane glided rapidly and silently away, making a
wide detour, the better to approach the spot without being
seen. Discovery there would be almost equivalent to death.

And yet the old hunter fell into the very error he strove to
guard against. He did not know that Red Hirble had already
sought the rendezvous, and was even then awaiting the cap-
tain’s appearance. '

So, fearing to lose» time, Crane was pressing through the
bushes without much regard to silence, when he was sud-
denly startled by the sound of a low, clear voice. Glancing
in its direction he could faintly distinguish the outlines of a
tall man. - '

“ Is thet you, cap’n ?” said the voice.

“ Yes—it’s me !" muttered Crane, almost before thinking.

L But he soon discovered his error. The outlaw had noted
' the difi‘erence in his voice from the one he expected to hear,
and suspecting that one of the men was playing the part of
spy upon his actions he advanced, saying sternly:

“Hold on thar’, you feller; keep yer place, or by all thet‘s
holy I’ll bore yer skull with a bullit! Who air ye, an’ what
're you doin’ hyar ?“

: Crane quickly formed his plans. He saw that did he at-
tempt to flee a bullet from the drawn revolver would assuredly
overtake him.

Neither could he remain where he was until the outlaw
chief came up, as to be arrested as a spy would be his death-
V warrant. There was but one resource; he must dispose of
' this man, as speedin as possible. I

 

.-

 

 

     

 
 

b4 mar-HAWK xrr.

.He did not hesitate but a moment, for he knew it was life
against life. Unless victor he must be vanquished.

So drawing his heavy knife, in the use of which he was an
adept, keeping it concealed by one arm, he replied:

“ I kem hyar to git a drink. Is thar’ any law ag’in’ thet 3"

“ Who air you? You ain’t one o’ us—you‘re too tall 1”

" You ain’t nuther, then, ’ca’se you’re as big as I be.”

“ None 0’ yer sass, my fine feller, but tell me who ye air,
\n’ what you’re up to hyar ?”

“ I told you onc’t—-a’ter a drink.”

By this time the two men were not over ten feet apart;
the outlaw bending his head forward the better to scrutinize
the countenance of the stranger, while his pistol was half
raised ; then he started erect, uttering: "

“ Ha! you’re thet Crane feller l”

“ Yes, an’ you’re—a gone sucker I?’ hissed the old hunter, as
he drew back his right arm with a lightning-like motion, and
hurled his weapon full at the exposed throat of the outlaw.

True to its aim the heavy blade sunk to its very haft in the
massive neck of Red Hirble, who tattered and fell, stricken
unto death. But as he did so, his fingers contracted and the
pistol exploded.

Instantly there was a loudltumult at the den, and the door

opening, a broad blaze of light fell almost to the spot of , ,

death.

Josh Crane knew that to delay now would be fatal, and
‘ only pausing -to extricate his knife, he turned and tied at full
speed, chosing such tangled paths as he knew could not be
followed upon horseback.

He lid not fear being overtaken there, and only felt regret
that he had failed in his main object. . He felt confident that
his blow had been fatal, and that no one would ever suspect
the part he had played in this tragedy.

But in this he was at fault. Red Hirble had not been
killed instantly, and as Captain Kit knelt beside him, he man-
aged to reveal who had dealt the fatal blow. And then, over
his dead body, the outlaw chief swure to wreak bitter venge-
ance upon the murderer for the death of his loved friend and
comrade. .

Ioshua Crane hastened as rapidly as possible to the house

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of Judge Pierson, and upon knocking was admitted by a ser-
vant, who said: '

“ Golly! Marse Crane, I was jest gwine 10’ you. Do:
Judge wants to see you right away."

“All right, Ebony; whar’ is he ?"

“ Here, Crane," cried Pierson, making his appearance. “ I

have great news for you, my old friend,” and together they
entered the library.

CHAPTER VII.
m ABEIGNATION.

0n the second day following the night upon which Joan
Crane disposed of Red Hirble, a horse and rider slowly left
the spacious yard before Judge Pierson’s house, and proceed-
ed along the road leading down the river toward the lower
ford.

This rider was a lady—Carrie Pierson. Her cheek is still
pale and a thought less plump than when we first beheld her,
but her eye is fully as bright and sparkling.

There was an expression as of anxiety resting apon her
face as she glanced uneasily around her, and once she half-
checked her horse as it to abandon some purpose. But then
with an exclamation of impatience, the maiden urged her
horse forward at reckless speed, as if all doubtings were
settled.

She did not draw rein until the hill overlooking the ford

I was surmounted, where she paused beneath a good—sized live-oak

tree. Standing upon her saddle she reached one hand into a
small hollow at the base of a huge limb, and withdrew a
small, neatly folded note. /

Regaining her seat the maiden tore open the missive and
eagerly perused its contents. It contained but a few words,
and ran as follows: . .
“ IN THE SADDLE.
“MY CARRIE:

“ I received your note, and hasten to reply. I will meet you
at the place mentioned. Icannot write much now, as I am on

    

56

  

NIGHT-HAWK KIT.

my way to meet some of my men; but will have all the more
to tell you when we do meet. I shall expect you without fail,
to-morrow. Until then, adieu.

“ In haste, yours,
H Km."

For some minutes Carrie Pierson sat intently gazing at
this note. There was a peculiar grayish pallor upon her fea4
tures, that seemed unnatural.

In truth, this was an answer to a note of hers, asking fo:
a meeting with the robber captain. Or rather she had first
received one from him, requesting this as a favor, and she had
consented.

Then turning her horse’s head, Carrie rode slowly toward
the hill retreat, evidently with the intention of keeping the
assignation. As she neared the spot, her face lighted up
and her eyes sparkled more brilliantly.

As she approached a small grove of trees at but a few hun-
dred yards from the outlaws’ den, a horseman spurred from
beneath their shade and rode rapidly toward her. As the
forest breeze lifted the brim of his slouched hat, the features
of Captain Kit were revealed. '

“ Carrie, my angel—my true-hearted woman—J knew you
would not fail me i” he cried, in an ardent tone, as he clasped
her Outstretched hand ; the prancing of her horse could not
promise more.

“I trust you—why should not you trust me?” was the
softly breathed reply, as her bright eyes met his fully.

“ True—but come ; it is warm here. The sun has little
power yonder in the shade. Let us go there and converse.
I have so much to tell you—so much to listen to."

Side by side the handsome couple rode until the shade was
reached, when they allowed their horses to crop the short,
rich grass, while they conversed.

“ Let me assist you to alight, Carrie.”

“ No, I would rather sit here. It seems like old times It
has been so long since I have been able to ride, that it rests
me more in the saddle than it would there."

“ So be it, then. But now-before less agreeable subjects
-——have you changed any,rCarrie? Do you still love me as
you did before I joined these men 2” '

     

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

3m

 

 

THE MEETING I)! THE FOREST. 5?

“ My heart is still the same; I love you now as well as
when you were my father’s herdsman. What I said then, I
repeat now. When I love once, that love will never change,
unless to grow stronger. Are you satisfied ?” was the soft
reply, as her wondrous eyes rested upon his face.

“ Yes—a thousand times yes! My darling, pardon me, if
for a moment I doubted you. I feared you would look upon
me as your father does. That you would think I had for-
feited all claim to your love when I became a thief.”

“ Then it is really true that you are the chief of this band
of—of outlaws 1’”

“Yes, I am, and I glory in it. They are men—genuine
men; not milk and water imitations. And they look up to
me as something far superior to them. With the majority I
am almost revered. I am proud of them, and they are proud

' of me I”

“It must be glorious to be so free—so independent! Do

, you know, Kirk, that if I were a man, I could almost envy

you ?"

“My darling, you can share this all with me. They will

V hail you as their queen as gladly as they do me as their king.

Will you share it with me? Say yes 1”

“ But my father ?" hesitated Carrie. ‘ , ,

“ Has he not changed? I gave him a_week to decide; to-
morrow is the last day; I intend calling for his answer then.

I What will it be '3”

“ The same as ever. He swears that you must work your
will—that he will never consent. But stay," she added,
hastily, as the brow of the outlaw chief darkened, “listen to
me. You must not make that visit, Kirk."

“Must not? My word is passed, and I will redeem it,”
was the stern reply.

“I ask you to grant a little more time.

' me?” softly pleaded Carrie.

“ My men know the time. They would laugh at me if I
should falter.”

‘ “ But hear me—tell them that it is working right—that he
i will submit!”

“But win he ?” eagerly cried Captain Kit.

“ I can honestly say that I have the strongest hopes of its,

Will you refuse

 

     

 
 

    

58 men's-mm m.
all taming outright, if you will but be patient for another
week. If, at the end of that time, he does not tell you to
take me, I will go with you willingly without his consent, ii
you bid me do so. You know that I have great influence
over him, and that I can do mostly as I please I have had
an interview with him sinca your visit, and he has yielded a
little. He says now that if you had not robbed him, he would
raise no further objections. Have patience, Kirk, and it will
all come right, never fear.” ‘

“ You promise this—that if I wait another week you will
come with me, whether or no t”

“ Yes—-I promise it, if you ask me to do so.
me.”

“ Yes, I can—~I do. When we met last—that night in
your father’s grounds—you said: ‘ When you bid me come to
you I will obey. I am all yours—through good and ,evil—
I joy and sorrow l’ I will claim fulfillment of your vow then.”

“ If you do, I will obey you. Then I may tell father
that you grant him another week l’"

“ Yes, if you wish. But I must call upon him to-morrow,
if only to satisfy my men."

You can trust

“ Now, Kirk, that you have set my mind at ease upon that

one great point, I must confess to you that I am very curious
to see how you live out here. There are many and strange
tales going the rounds, of the mysterious rites and incanta-
tions performed in that gloomy-looking house of yours. And
some of the neighbors add that you have found a vast gold
mine in there, or else why have you removed so much dirt
from the building 1’” half laughed Ca'rrie, glancing shyly up
at her dark lover.

“, They are fools, darling. The only gold mine we work
is the purses of our enemies,” laughed Captain Kit; but he
gazed keenly at the maiden as if to read her inmost thoughts.

“ But you have not answered my question, Kirk ?”

“ Did you ask one? Pardon me—I did not understand,"
he slowly replied. ' ‘ ‘

“ If not, I implied one. You are not half as quick-witted as
of old, Kirk, or you would have offered to satisfy my curiosity
at once.
mu ?”

It is I who should accuse you of change-not you '

       
    

 

 

 

 
    

  

15
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A Amour. My

" B it- .mly curiosity, Currie 1’".

“ Why: what else could it be, Kirk ?” with an air of sur-
prise.
“ You will meet rough and rude men there, darling.”

“ Rough, maybe, but not rude, while you are with me. Be-
sides, I wish to see those over whom you rule, and to see if I
should like to be their queen as well as I think,” was her
soft reply, and again her lustrous eyes met those of her
lover.

For a moment he gazed intently into their depths, and then,
with a low cry of intense passion, he clasped her in his urns
and presseda wild, ardent kiss upon her lips. Her cheek was“
deeply sufi'used as she released herself from his embrace, but
her voice was soft as ever es she spoke:

“ You have obtained your reward beforehand; surely you
will not deny me my wish any longer 1’”

“ No, darling—I can refuse you nothing. You shall go,
and if any of the men see fit to blame me for breaking the
law I made myself, they will regret doing so. Come, darling,
We will go.”

Whatever of suspicion the outlaw chief may have enter- '
mined, was now discarded as without foundation, and he led

I the way 'with a look of gratification upon his face. It
seemed as if a great weight had been lifted from-his heart:

' For although he knew that Currie loved him,he feared that
she would not move in direct opposition to the will of her fa-
ther. But this fear set at rest ; he aw that his threat of com
pulsion would not need to be put into execution.

He assisted Carrie to dismount at the door, and then so-
curing the horses, he took her hand and led her forward, un-
hcediug the looks of wondering surprise, not unmixed with
displeasure, that rested upon the rough faces of those who had

 flocked to the door at the sound of hoof-strokes.

“Men and mmrsdesl” uttered the chief, in a clear, firm
tone. “You all know the laws that I made and you sub-
scribed to. That none who were not legal members of our

confederecy should ever enter this door, save as prisoners. I

breakthis now, for the first time, if not in spirit, in letter.
Have any ofyouaught to say against it i’”

‘ “ No, not at you say it’s all right, Cap‘n," cried one of tile

-' men. .

 

 

  

    

60 morn-nun: m.

“ Good, Hardress. It saves us both trouble, for my mind
is made up. But now I will explain. This lady whom you
see here is my promised wife, and it may be that at some
day not far distant, you will be called upon to obey her will
as well as mine. She has half promised to become your
queen l”

“ Hooray for her 1 Three cheers for the queen o’ the
band I” yelled Hardrcss, and then a score of stentorian voices
caught up the refrain until the old hills reverberated again
with the echoes. 4

Carrie clung trembling to the arm of her lover, as if af-
frighted at their rough welcome. The outlaw chief divined
her wish, and motioning silence, said :

“There, my men, that will do. Stand aside and we will
enter. I wish to show my friend the house."

Obediently the rude men fell back, and with a native deli-
cacy that told of a soft. spot yet unseared by crime far down
in their hearts, uncovered their heads as the young couple
passed. Many were the glances of respectful admiration that
the fair young maiden received as she glided along.

“ You see, Carrie—there are our quarters. How do you
like them ?”

“ But these weapons; really you—that is—” and then she
{altered as her eyes roved over the array of fire-arms and cut-
lery that was suspended against the walls or were standing in
the corners. .

“ They are the implements of our craft, pet," said Captain
Kit, with a hard, metallic laugh. “ But we do not use them
wantonly. Only when forced to it.”

“It is rougher here than I thought. Are those the only
rooms i”

“ Except the loft, up-stairs. But do not few that I will
ask you to share such quarters as these. If yes :onsent to
my plans, we will have a nice little cottage built out yonder
in the grove, where you will not be disturbed, and yet be
near enough for us to guard you against all danger," and the
outlaw chief gazed down upon the flushed and bright face
with a look of ardent lo ve.

“Well, that we'd be an improvement, but we can settle «T:
such matters hereafter. For now that I am well again, I
intend to take daily exercise, and we—that is—” '

\

     

  

 

 

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m m umrons um. RETREAT. ' ’81 ,

" Yes,” laughed Captain Kit “ I need exercise, also. and
none so good as horse-hack riding. Besides, you know-it is
not exactly safe for you to be without one escort, so we will
Is that what your foolishly shy little tongue
refused to utter, my pet?" '

“You are a wizard, Kirk," pouted Carrie, and then their
united voices rung out in joyous laughter, sounding strangely
musical amid those rude surroundings.

“But, Kirk, what is yonder door? There is no room
there—does it open out upon the hill-side ?"

“Not exactly; but inside. That leads to our mysterious
gold mine—ho! ha i Come, I will show you,” and igniting
a lump, he opened the heavy door.

Curried uttered a little cry of wondering surprise as she
‘entered the dimly-lighted place, and saw the numerous pairs
of eyes turned upon them, gleaming like twin stars. But
then a shrill neigh that sounded strange and unearthly, told
her what they were.

“You see, Carrie, this is our gold mine. It is an easier
method of enriching one’s self, at any rate, if not quite so
rapid."

“ Then these horses are—i"

“Just so. Stolen, as some would call it; we say confis-
cated. We sent off a lot last night. These came in just be-
fore day. You see we have a kind of way-station here, to
receive such animals as are brought from above. Then we
send them on to the next station, where they are served the
same, and so on until they reach a market. Thus at day we
That iswhy we are so often called “ N ight-
Hawks."

“ I see—but what is there? Another room ?" added the
maiden, indicating a small but heavy door built in the ground
wall ; the one heretofore alluded to.

“ Well yes, a small one. We keep it for such of our
friends as we value too highly to leave'exposed to the dangers

_of freedom," and again he gave‘vent to that hard, metallic

laugh, that caused the maiden to shiver.
“ Is there any one in it now ?"
“No. . It has never been used. Come, and I will show

you it.”

 

  

 
  

   
 
 
   
  
   
 

  
  
   
 
  
   
  
 
 
   
  
  
   
   

EMT-HAWK m.

l
Unlocking the door, Captain Kit threw it open, holding
his light so that the interior was visible. The walls, floor
and roof was all of rock, neatly joined and fitted together.
At one end was a' rude bench of rough-hewn wood, and

' above was suspended from a huge staple a heavy iron chain.

A more cheerless cell could scarcely be conceived.

“ Come, Kirk, let us go. Itgives me the horrors in here.
Besides, I must be going home. Father will be anxious, and
I do not wish him to suspect my having come here.”

“ Very well ; but first, promiSe to meet me to-morrow where
you did today. Will you ?”

“ Yes, I will come. But will you call on father first, or

after?” '

“ First. I save the best until the last, you see. But come
then. It is damp here, and you are not fairly recovered
yet.”

. With a few more words Carrie was seated safely in the
saddle and conducted by the outlaw chief to a point beyond
view of the building. Then, with one last kiss, he stood am".
watched her graceful form as she rode rapidly away.

———-————-—|

CHAPTER VIII.
A FIENDISH DEED.

As Captain Kit turned toward the house, with a low sigh,
he was confronted by Old Mose and Rattlesnake Bob. With a
frown—for he evidently did not fancy either of the worthiea
over highly, he demanded: ‘ '

“ Well, what is it you want ?”

“ A leetle matter 0’ business, cap 11, respectfully answered
Mose. “ ’Bout old Josh Crane, ye know.” i

“ Well, what is it? Has he returned yet i" eagerly-asked

7 ’3

[the outlaw chief, his eyes flashing, as he remembered the yet

nnavenged death of his friend and comrade, Red Hirble.
“ Yes, he hes. He got back a bit sence. An’ as acme ’0’
In} boys hes got a old grudge ag’in’him, hack 0’ his killin’ the

 

 

, imp a fr’endly visit to-night, so’s to settle all scores.”

 

A moron-.9 m. 68’

leftenant, I made bold to ex you would you let us pay the

“ You mean to kill him '3”

“ Wal, yas, it mought come to thet ef you sifted it down
putty clus. He’s a dangerous feller to hev so near around us.
Thar‘s no tellin’ what devilment he ain't up to. 'Ef he’s a-
mind to do it, he could raise‘ enough boys from round the ken-
try to wipe us out like nothin’. I half b’lieve thet is what
he’s bin gone so long fer now,” craftin added Mose.

“ You think so '3” '

“ I do, honest. ,But how is it? Shall I take the boys an’
call on him ‘8” ‘

“ Well, yes, I don’t know but you had better I had in-
tended punishing him with my own hand, but it will amount
to the same thing. You can go to-night; but bring him here
alive if you can. If not, make aclean job of it. As you say,
he‘s a dangerous neighbor," slowly replied Captain Kit; but
with an anxious look upon his face that told his mind was ill
at ease.

" All right. We’ll settle with him, then, one way or an-
other, to-night. Kin I pick my men, cap’n ?”

“Yes; take who you please. He’ll most likely make a
fight of it. But bring him here if you can,” and then the
trio parted; the two coarser ruffians with devilish glee im-
printed upon their countenances.

At an hour after dusk, a little party on foot silently glided
away from the hill retreat. They numbered some half a
dopen, and among them were Old Mose, Rattlesnake Bob,
Rowing Sam, and their most intimate comrades; as vile a
crowd as could be picked from the ofliscourings of the world.

Each and all of the number cherished a grudge against the
sturdy borderer. and would willingly have satisfied it long
since by shooting him down from an ambush, only for the
wholesome dread they entertained of his strong arm and ready
hand. To have failed in inflicting a mortal blow, their own

‘\ fate would be sealed.

It was strange then how easy and careless they appeared
to feel now. One would have thought they were hunting
some despised foe, whom they knew would ofi’er no resistr‘

 

    

 
 

0‘ FIGHT-HAWK m.

In a short time the Night-Hawks came in view of the little
cabin, and paused as if in doubt. The hut looked gloomy
and deserted.

“ How is it, Mose i” asked one of the men. “ Shore ye
ain’t mistook ?”

“ Shore ‘2 ' Yes, in course I am. Leastways he warn’t thar’
this‘mornin’. I don't think he’s got back yit.”

“ But he may—”

“ Wal, we kin find out. I reckon thar’s enough on us hyar
to han‘le the cuss ef he is thar’."

“ You talk big, Mose, but you‘d be the fust one to run;
jest as you did t’other time," muttered the outlaw, with a dis-
satisfied air.

“ Shet trap, Foxy l” angrily responded the leader, evidently
little relishing the truth contained in his comrade’s words.
“ We must see it out, anyhow.”

“Wal, ef he is thar’, I tell you all afore hand thet I’m
goin’ to take the back track, now you hyar me l”

“ Do as you please. It’ll be a nice yarn to tell the boys,”
chuckled Mose. r

“ You won’t be able to tell it, onless you do the same thing.
He’s a devil, thet Josh Crane is,” earnestly affirmed Foxy'
Jake, as he slowly followed his comrade’s lead.

“Now look hyar," said Mose, as they again paused, this
time under shelter of a dense clump of. bushes, something to
the right of the house. “ We must find out ef the old cuss
is at home afore we show our hands. We’ll all go up
together an’ I’ll knock an’ ax for Josh. Ef he comes, why -
then I’ll tell a lie an’ slip out o’ it as best I kin. You tellers
kin watch yer chaince an’ plug him, ef so be you kin do it
Understand ?”

' “ Yes. 80 fur. But of only the old woman is thar’ P”
asked Roaring Sam. ‘

“ We], then we’ll make a clean sweep o’ the hull thing
It’ll hurt old Josh a heap sight worse‘n ef we’d killed 1.1m,
hissell’. He thinks a powerful Sight 0’ the old woman, so
they say." . r

In truth this latter deed was just what the Night-Hawks
had sallied out to accomplish. Old Mose had found that
Josh Crane was absent from home, and thinking he saw a

 

 

 

 

‘r

I

 

 

 
   

amxarmsnamr. 65

chance to deal a bitter Now at his enemy without much
, danger to himself, he had induced some kindred spirits to
enter into the project, which they were only too eager to do.

Their request of Captain Kit was but a blind. Had they
believed Crane was at home, not one of the wretches would '
have volunteered for the task. '

“The Cap’n ’ll be rip-roarin’ when he hears what we've
did.”

“Bah! leave thet to me. I’ll fix it up all right, We’ll
'burn the house an’ say thet Crane went with it, or else run
away. But walk straight now, an’ keep yer wc’pons ready
fer use. Ef he opens the door, shoot the imp. Be in a
hurry, too, or he‘ll make it warm fer us,” continued Mose, as
he led the way toward the closed door of the shanty.

Not one of the party—although under ordinary circum-
stances they were bold and daring enough—felt entirely at
ease as they marched up to the cabin. Josh Crane was a ter-
rnr to them.

The hand of Old Mose trembled as he lifted it and struck
a vigorous rap upon the door of roughly hewn puncheons. A
voice was heard in reply, the voice of old Mrs. Crane.

“ Who air you? What ye want?”

“ Friends. We want to see the old man a bit, ef ,he’s to
be seen,” replied Mose, trying to disguise his voice; but in
this he was only partially successful.

“ What you want 0’ him i” ,

“Business, mum; 'bout them pesky tellers as hev squat-
ted thar’ by the hill. We’re in a hurry, too. Is Crane in
thar’ Y”

“ No, he ain’t to hum, an’ I reckon it’s all the better fer
you that he ain’t, Old Mose. A mighty heap o‘ biz’ness you
must hev with him ! You’d better go back to thim as sent
ye. You won’t git ndthin’ here tonight,” boldly replied the
old woman.

“ You won’t open the door, then i‘"

“ No—I won’t I"

' “ Then, boys, le’s bu’st it in.
Ha ain't hyar l" exultantly added the desperado;

You see I told you right.
and not

, until then did the woman realize the peril she had precipia'
tated upon herself, in part, at least.

t

  

    

 

;

66 main-Haw: m.

r “ Hyer’s a stick the old coon hauled for back logs,” cried
Rattlesnake Bob. “ It’ll do. We’ll hev the door down in a
hurry now. Catch hold an’ give us a lift.”

The NightHa‘wks lifted the trimmed trunk of a small tree
in their sturdy arms, and then pointing the jagged butt
toward the door, started upon a run, with a wild hurrah of
triumph. They anticipated no resistance ; their revenge
seemed assured them.

With a loud thud the log struck the stout door, shaking the
entire house to its foundations. But there was a more terrible
sound mingled with its clangor.

’ A blaze of lurid light spouted from the side of the cabin ;
a leaden bullet sped upon its mission of death, settling in the
brain of Bob Rattlesnake. With a wild cry of death agony
the. doomed Night-Hawk threw up his arms and staggered
back, falling to the ground a dead man.

“ Mar—how do ye like thet, you cowardly imps you ?
Come botherin’ round me some more, won’t ye? Now git—
travel, or I’ll sarve the hull b’ilin’ on ye in the same way as I
did that carr’on i" cried the old woman, in a defiant tone.

The N ight-Hnwks dropped the log and stood for a moment
as if petrified at this sudden calamity. Then they believed
that Josh Crane was hidden in the cabin, and smitten with a
sudden fear. they turned and fled in dismay.

But this did not last long. The voice of the woman still
rung in their ears, and they believed that she‘ was alone, as
soon as they paused to reflect. Had Crane been there, he
would havo charged them at once.

“ Boys, Rattlesnake is gone under. Shall we let thet cus-
sed old ’oman boast o’ whippin’ us all? I move le’s go back
an’ fininish up the Job,” cried Mose, as they all crouched
under cover. V

“ You don’t think he’s thar’: then 1'” added F xy Jake.

“No. E1 he bed ’a’ bin, he’d ’a’ follered us as soon as he
shot. Besides, he’d ’a’ given us more than one pill. Come,
16’8 go back."

‘ The party, reassured, followed the Night-Hawk’s lead, and
way I‘ll! swiftly back to where lay the log. Another shot
81% them, but it only slightly wounded Mose, rendering
him fairly wild with rage. ‘

 

 

 

/" I a

A DAM!) man

Then the log was hurled again and again against the door'
that soon began to yield,‘cracking and splintering. Then it
was dashed from its hinges and hurled half-way across the
room. ,
Mose stumbled through the aperture, almost overthrowing
the‘old woman, who haddeveled her recharged weapon. But
for the stumble, he would have received the rifle’s contents;
as it was he escaped by a slight burn along the cheek,vscorched
by the flash.

But it was the last effort of the doomed woman.

Several loud reports rung out, whose brilliant blaze filled
the room, and she sunk down, still clasping in her hand the
rifle that had proven so faithful, stricken unto death.

Then ensued a fearful scene of barbarity. The surviving
desperadoes, maddened by their loss, when they had antici-
pated an easy victory, wreaked their rage and fury upon the
senseless corpse.

Old Mose, finally desisting, called his men off to plunder
‘ the cabin of such articles as attracted their fancy. Then the
furniture was broken and piled up in the center of the room,
atter which a blazing brand was applied to it.

Then leaving the doomed cabin, the Night-Hawks stood
around watching the scene of destruction with laughs and
jeers of demoniac glee. Slowly at first, then gaining power
with every moment, the blaze crept on until the entire struc-
ture was wrapped in flames.

Not until then did the N ight-Hawks pick up their dead and
slowly leave the scene of their diabolical crune.

They feared to linger longer lest the glare shodd .callsome

‘ , of the neighbors to the spot, and they show’r thus be recogu

aimed.

 

  

    

 
   

mam-rinwz m'r.

CHAPTER IX.
MOTHER AND SON.

A FEW minutes after the Night-Hawks, led by Old Mose,
sallied forth upon their fiendish mission, Captain Kit also left
the'Nest, on foot, but thoroughly armed, as customary. There
was an undecided look upon his bold, handsome countenance,
revealed by the moon’s bright rays, as the broad-brimmed hat
was pushed back from his brow.

“ Yes, I will do it. I must know what to expect to-mor-
row. If he should remain tubhorn, I must have some way
open to grant him a little longer grace, without seeming to go
wholly against my word. And then—I may see Carrie, my
angel—my little true-hearted girl i" he muttered, with a rapid
glance toward the gloomy den.

Then, as if all doubts were settled, he strode swiftly away
toward Judge Pierson's ranche. In a few minutes he came
in sight of the house, that was not yet lighted up, although
the doors and windows Wg‘e all thrown open.

As though feeling perfectly at home, Captain Kit strode

lightly up to the veranda, where several persons were sitting. H‘

Two of the number arose and entered the house. One the
outlaw knew to be Carrie; the other he believed was Mrs.
Pierson, although not sure, as she was an invalid, and mostly
confined to her room.

The settler peered cautiously at his visitor, and then recog-
nizing him, arose with a haughty air, leaning upon the bark
of his chair. His voice as he spoke was subdued, yet cold
and firm: ‘

“ To what am I indebted for this visit? I believe the time
designated has not yet arrived.”

“ Not until to-morrow morning, ’tis true, but what are t
few hours P” rejoined Captain Kit, in an even tone. “ I come
here to learn what answer I am likely to receive to-mory
row I” '

“And I can not tell you. Or, if you like it better, I M

 

4.;-

. b

.A

\

 

. past-the prime of life.

m- mm. 6':
.wt tell you, until the last moment of grace has expired,”
firmly replieJ Pierson. ,

“ It lies in my power to make you do so; but before we go
further, perhaps ’twould be better to seek a spot [a little more
retired. Shall we walk? I have private news for your car
alone.”

“ N 0, we will go to my room. We are safe there from any
cavesdroppcr. I Will listen to you because I also have some-
thing to tell—or rather show you—in return.”

Captain Kit gazed at the settler keenly, but could read no
index to his thoughts upon that immobile face. Evidently
the planter was preparing for the crisis.

The conversation that ensued we need not detail, as it was

in substance the same as had transpired at their previous dis- ‘

cussion. But then Judge Pierson said.

“ By the way, captain, I have a little surprise for you. An
old friend, who is very anxious to see you. Shall I ring T”

“An old friend?” echoed the outlaw, one hand mechani-
cally falling to the butt of his ready revolver, while his eyes
:dwelt keenly upon the composed features of the settler.

“Yes. Shall I ring ?”

“ If you please. But—wait a moment. I know you—and
I judge you know me. If not, you should. I am here alone,
to-night, but I haveleft instructions behind me. You have a
little mark of mine there upon your face. Should you con-
template treachery, remember that I am tolerany quick on the
trigger. An inch lower and to the left of that spot, would—
umlerstand ?”

“ But! what care I for your threats? If you fear, however

I will not send for this person,” sneercd Pierson.

" Fear! I don’t know what that word means. Ring the
hell. I am anxious to see this mysterious friend,” and turning,
Captain Kit faced the door.

Pierson touched the call-bell, and as if the person had been
in waiting for some time, the door immediatly opengd and a
woinan entered.

{She was of a tall and stately form, although considerably
She .‘was dressed in plain but neat
clothes, and her face, though hearing the imprints of time’s fin-
gers, was -till remarkably comely.

\\

 

    

70". RIGHT-HA W! m.

.As these W0, the womanand Captain Kit, stood gazing at-
each other, the most casual observer would have been, struck
by the likeness between them. Then Judge Pierson spoke:

“ Captain, you do not salute your friend.”

“ Mother," said the outlaw leader, not noticing the settler s
words, “ why are you here—what have you come for l”

“ To see my son, since he would not return to me. But I
did not think to find you like this, George. It was sad news
for a mother’s heart," brokeuly replied the woman, evidently
yearning to rush forward and clasp him to her heart, yet de-
terred by the harsh, forbidding look resting upon his features.

“ Your coming here does not mend the matter any. But
you, Judge Pierson, what do you expect to gain by this move?
How will it better you I” he added with lily-suppressed ire.

“ Perhaps much—perhaps nothing. Madame, your prom-
ise ?”

“ Shall be kept. George. I ask you to abandon this wicked
plan of yours. These people have never injured you. Then
give over your scheme and come home with me. Will you
dc it 1’"-

“ No, I will not. I have tried an honest life until I am
tired of it. As Kirk 'Dalton I drove and herded cattle for a
dog’s wages; but do you think it was because I liked the life?
No; There were other charms here.
and to win her I did this. find you, judge, treated me as a.
man, I would never have dropped the mask. But you did not
r You insulted me, because I, a poor 'naquero, as you thought,
dared to love your child. Then I swore she should be mine,
despite you and your threats. I could'have taken her then.
She would have fled with me had I but said the word. I did
not any it, because I resolved to be revenged upon you first.
And I say now, what I said then; that if you fail to accede
to my terms tomorrow, I will keep my word. I will sWeep
you and yours from the face of the earth ; all but one. She
will bosom my bride, and queen of my band,” triumphantly
cried Captain Kit.

“ George, this must not be i” exclaimed the woman whom
.he had called mother. “ You must not soil your hands with
he'l‘blood—he isyour—” '
‘f My what i"

I loved Carrie Pierson, ‘

 

 
   

A MOTHER'S emanates. 71

“ Your unda I” falter-ed the Woman, bowing her head upon
her hands as if in shame

For a moment the outlaw stood as if petrified. Then the
old reckless look returned, and he spoke in a low but scornful
tone.

“ So—that is the ruse you have adopted, is it, my good sir?
Truly I must compliment you upon your nstuteness. Yours
is a-Very fertile brain; but while about it, why did not you
make me your son! That would have been still more melo-
dramatic.”

“George, do not speak so. I can not bear it. I would
never have told you this, only you forced me to it, to save you
from this great sin. As God hears me, he is your uncle—you
are the son of his brother. I swear it by my love for you,
my only child.”

“ Go on—I am becoming decidedly interested," mocked
‘ Captain Kit. I
‘, “ Oh, George, have pity 1 Say you will abandon this, and
.7 let us return home where we may be as happy as we were
before you were led into evil ways,” pleaded, the woman,
weeping bitterly.

“It seems that I came fairly by my evil ways, as you call
them. I am his son—yet do not hear his name. The puzzle
can be read in but one way. Is it the right way ‘2”

‘ “Yes I" desperately cried the woman. “Since you force
me to it, I will tell you all.——You are his son—and mine—but
I was never his wife. These are your kindred—do not have
their destruction upon your head.” '

“You rave; very foolishly, too. His family has degraded
me——I will but return the compliment. If I hesitated be-
fore, I will do so no longer. And you—-my uncle—remember
i that tomorrow I come for my answer. Let it be favorable,
or by all the fiends I will make my oath good. Before
this time to-morrOw night I will have a bride—my, band a
. queen l”

’ “ You refuse to listen to your mother’s pleadings?" added
' Pierson, as he m.
' “ No; I have listened to them, and I assure you, they have
great weight with me. Only—unfortunately for you—it rest:
~- in the ,wrong side of the balance. - It decides your late. But

 

 

 

  

 

    

fl ' NIGHT-HAWK m.

adios until tomorrow. May pleasant dreams attend you—ha!
ha!” mockineg laughed Captain Kit, as he backed from the 1.
room. -

Judge Pierson stood in the doorway, his head bent as if
listening intently, an eager look of expectancy upon his fea-
tures. Then a peculiar smile flitted athwart his counten-
ance.

He heard the tones of loud voices from the garden. Then.
a hoarse cry—a pistol-shotn-followed by the sounds as of a
confused struggle. ' .

Then for a moment all was still.

CHAPTER X.
' on) mosn’s REWARD.

' A1! hour later a dark form left the grounds of the Pierson
ranche, and took up its way toward the Night-Hawks’ nest.
During that period the tragedy at the old hunter’s cabin had
been accomplished. " '

A faint glow still marked the spot, but that was fast dying
out. More than one anxious glance did the man cast toward
this point, and twice he half-paused as if he would have
turned his steps in that direction ; but then with a muttered
sentence he resumed his way.

His long, swinging strides speedily brought him to the
hills, and then he uttered the peculiar signal used to denote the
approach of one of the hand: the shrill, screeching whistle
of a night—hawk. A small slide was opened in the do:r and
a voice sounded through the aperture:

“ Who is it 1’” '

“ l—tlfe captain. Open and let me in,” was the reply.

“ All night,” and then the door swung open to admit the
new-comer, being closed and barred behind him. , r r
~ “Why, cap'n, you‘re hurt ! What’s happin‘ed ?” excla' ed
the door-keeper, as he gazed at the chief, whose head we! '
rudely bound up with a blood-stained cloth. ‘

 

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WOW“?

@000

. that he’ll receive us at his pistol muzzle.

‘ countenance.

 

mm mm. 73‘

“ A scratch; that’s alL I called at Pierson’s ranche, and
as I was leaving I had a little turn-up with one of his men.
The tellow made a fair snap-shot, but a little too high.
iie won’t boast of it, though," and the outlaw chief uttered
svpeculiar laugh as he drew a pistol and began recharging it.

“ You settled him, then?”

“ You see—one chamber is empty. I seldom have to pull
twice on one man. There'll be a funeral at the ranche to-
marrow.”

“But how is it, captain i" asked another, who had drawn
near during the conversation, Martin Homer, the lieutenant
since Red Hirble’s death. “ How will it go to-morrow ?
With Pierson, I mean ?”

“ I hardly know. The fool is stubborn yet, and swears
But I don’t be-
lieve him. We will give him a call tomorrow as promised,
and when he finds that we are bound to keep our word, he’ll
knuckle under.” '

“ And the girl—Miss Carrie ?”

“ As you know. She will keep her word, too. When I
say the word, she will come to me. You heard what she
said here that day? that she would like to he queen of a band
of such men. After this affair she must be obeyed as much
as‘I am. How do you like the idea i”

‘ What reply Homer would have made is not known. Just
at that moment another signal was heard, and the voice of
Old Mose replied.

The door-keeper uttered a cry of surprise as he glanced out.
at the sight that met his eyes, revealed by the broad blaze of
fight.

The Night-Hawks entered the building, bearing between

1 them two bloody forms, which they then dropped upon the

floor, rudely and carelessly, like some logs of wood. Then

;. Old Mose pushed back his hat and faced the captain.

There was :9. Inch of defiance, as if assumed to hide an ap
prehension that could but too plainly be read upon his ugly
Evidently he intended to blufl' his way out of
the scrape he had fallen into.

w  " Well, sir, what does this mean?” demanded Captain Kit,
liters brief silence, nodding toward the dead bodies.

/
x

 

 

74 mnemwx m.

“ man it,” muttered old Mose, his eyes qu’aiing before
the stern glance of his chic! ‘

“ Hei Wh.’ is he?”

“ You know—41:: teller you sent us a’tcr—old Crane.”

“ That I sent you after? But go on. Tell it all, and be
quick about it, 100. Look me in the eye, if you can. I
can’t trust you, else, Old Mose.”

“ Wal—we went thar’—as you told us too, an’ fust thing
we knowed he shot at us, an‘ dropped Bob, yonder."

“ What—without speaking ? Didn’t he ask you who you
were and what you wanted ?” suspiciously demanded Captain
Kit.

“ No, he didn’t—didn’t say a durned word, but jist blazed
away.
bu‘st open the door. As it went down, so did Roarin’ Sam;
he plugged him. Wal, we pulled trigger, too, an’ the critter
fell, ’thout a word.”

“ You killed him—Crane 1’” »

“ No‘we didn’t, nuther," muttered Mose, uneasily.

“But you said—J?"

“ That the teller went under, but ’twasn’t him.”

“Who then ? Come, speak out! Don’t mouth your
words so.”

“ Wal, then-~’twasn’t our fault. We thought ’twas him,
or we wouldn’t ’a’ shot. Who’d ’a’ thunk a woman ’d ’a'
acted so f'erce-like '1’” I

“ A woman .5”
“ Yes—’twas the old man’s wife. She-—” .
“ What! You killed her—Mrs. Crane ?” cried Captain Kit,

in a tone of horror, one hand nervously fingering a pistol-
butt;

“ ’Twasn’t our fault, as I said afore. The pesky fool
brung it on herself,” sullenly replied Mose, edging back a
pace, evidently not liking the looks of affairs.

“ Mose Carter, I believe you lie. You are too big a cow-
ard to have‘faced even one whom you thought Josh Crane.
You know that he has been gone from home for several days,
and had not ,got back yet.‘ You knew the old woman would
66 alone, and put up this job to get even with him; you and
the cowardly dogs who went with you.” ‘

 

Then we went for the cabin with a log 0’ wood. an’ ‘

    

 

 

     

r. '—

'-

Id
“.1

    

A  ‘75 _
“ Them’s rough words, cap'n, to speak to a feller what
went by your orders; durned rough i ’Tain’t right, 'ef you
be boss," muttered Mose, an ominous glitter in his treacherous
eyes, as one hand glided slowly to his belt.

“ You may have better cause to think so before I am done
with you. Men, what is your opinion? Are we to turn
into women murderers ? Have we come to so low a pass as
that? I hope not. I have always found you men, hereto-
fore. I say that Mose Carter and those who were with him
in this outrage are cowardly, murdering dogs, for whom a
man's death is too good: How many agree with me ?”

As he glanced around the crowd assembled, Captain Kit
was greeted with a loud cheer of approval by the majority.
But'there were near a dozen others who -emained silent, with
sullen looks.

01d Mose also noted this, and made a peculiar gesture to
them. As if understanding the signal, they.begau working
ardund together.

“ It is well. I expected as much, from men. And now,
Mose Carter, you and your comrades ‘in this act, deliver up

- your weapons and surrender."

“What fer 1’" sullenly demanded the outlaw. ‘

“ To stand trial. If we find that Josh Crane had not re
turned home before you did this deed. you will be punished
If he has, we will look upon it as a mistake on your part.
and overlook it. Come-do you hear t"

“ Yas—I hear.” .

“ Then obey. What! You won’t?" hissed Captain Kit
as the outlaw whipped out his revolver. “ Drop that—drop
it, I say, ‘or I’ll send you to the devil, your master 1”

“ Go thar’fust, an’ tell him I’m n-comin’i" snarled Mose,

. as he threw up his weapon and fired.
Instantly all was cenfusion. Captain Kit staggered back and
fell to one knee, his face fairly blackened, so close had been
4 the pistol‘s muzzle to it. v
‘ But then he threw up his right arm. A quick flash fol‘
lowed,. and with a howling groan Mose fell heavily to the
3 floor, his skull shattered like an egg-shell.
‘ ‘ Meanwhile the others had not been idle. Foxy Jake and
-, his comrades were joined by those whose voices has been

 

* »

 

. r

  

    

76. ' NIGHT-HAWK m.
silent at the appeal of Captain Kit, and drawing their revolo
vers, stood upon the defensive.

As the chief staggered and fell, his adherents, led by Ho
mer, rushed upon those who stood up for Mose. For a brief
minute, horrible yells and oaths, mingled with the clash of
steel and ringing pistol~shots filled the room.

Then the voice of the chief rung out, clear and distinct
above the din

“ Hold 1 not another blow! » The man who disobeys, I will
shoot like I did this dog! Put up your weapons."

He was promptly obeyed, and as the smoke cleared away,
the result of the conflict was perceptible. Besides Old Mose,
Foxy Jake and four of his friends lay dead or dying upon
the floor, while not one but bore marks evidencing the deadly
ferocity of the brief strife.

Of the other party, three had fallen; Captain Kit escap«
ing with only a scorched face, as by a miracle. Mose had
fired too quick for aim, and his bullet only left a discolored
welt along the chieftain’s cheek.

“Captain, what shall we do with the dogs i" asked Homer,
brushing aside the blood that trickled over his eyes from a
ghastly out upon the head. ~

“Bind them and put them in the ‘jug.’ There’s room if
they lie close. We won't have time to try them until after
this job for to-morrow. We must make an example of some
of than. then, though, or the league may as well break up
first as last. Such actions would ruin any organization.
take them out, and then come here.”

Captain Kit sunk into a chair, and quietly began reloading
his pistol. Despite its disfiguration by the treacherous shot,

his face wore a peculiar look; one that appeared exultant— ,

triumphant.
As the mutineers were bound—some six or eight in number
——he followed the party to the vault, and saw them safely

locked within the cell, taking charge of the key himselt. ,

Then beckoning Homer aside, he spoke in a low, guarded
toue: ‘ '

“ Well, that is a good job over. Mose and some of the
rest had been a drawback long enough. I’m glad we've
got rid of them so handily. But you are hurt, my friend 2'.’

 

 

But

   

 

  

 

   

 

 

3W ill you see to getting them ready?

' one look to your head.

    

um 0mm AND m LIEUTENANT. 77

“ A little—but it don’t matter. The boys used to swear
that Mart Homer was proof against both steel and lead, but

. this will let them out, I guess,” laughed tlielieutenant.

‘ “ Well, Homer, I was about to speak about our job for to-
morrow. We must take the saddle early—about daylight.
That is, the time and
what they may expect if Pierson holds out stubborn. There’ll
be nice pickings if he refuses my terms."

“Are you in earnest about doing this? I mean burning
him out if he don’t knuckle down.”

“Indeed Iam; never more so. I don’t like to give up
beat, and whatever'I’ve said. I’ll do, if man can accomplish
it. But now, you understand?" ‘

“Yes. All will be ready by day dawn. But you will be
here ?”
“ Yes. Only my face smarts so that I believe I will take

a little walk in the night air, to cool my brain. Two pistols
fired at arm’s length in one‘s face, inside of an hour, are not
the most soothing things imaginable. Who is door-keeper
for the rest of the night ?"
“ Why, Steve Hardress.
him.”
“ Yes—I forgot.

You remember you appointed

Well, you had best go and have some
It may cause you trouble if ne-
glected," and as he spoke thus, Captain Kit turned and left
the building. cautioning Hardress to keep a close guard, and
be ready to admit him when he returnell ; greatly to the sur
prise of that worthy, who prided himself upon the high'
opinion the chief had entertained of him.

With a quick glance around him, Captain Kit hastened to-

,“ ward the grove sheltering the spring, and was soon lost to
F I View amid its dense shadows. «

  

  

OH A P T E R X I
Join cams swarms non vanemcn.

TEE eastern horizon was faintly streaked with gray ere the ,
outlaw cmef returned to the nest, and being admitted. he
flung himself wearin upon a bench, and bowing his head upon
the table, appeared lost in deep thought. He did not answer
until Homer touched him lightly upon the shoulder; then his
face showed ghastly white in the lamplight. ,

“ My God! captain, you are sickl What is the matter ?”

“ No, I have only been thinking. It is a momentous day
to me, Homer, this one. It will either make or break me.
If I fail now, I believe I would kill myself i”

“ Is it so bad, captain ? I knew you were smitten with the
lady, but didn’t know it had gone so deep.”

I If I succeed, she is mine—mine wholly and entirely ./ If I
fail, you will be advanced yet another step, my friend," and
Captain Kit smiled a peculiar smile, sad, yet mocking.

“ Why speak of failing i” If we can not work your will
by fair means, then we will by foul. You do not think
Pierson will be foolish enough to resist, do you ‘2"

“ I don’t know what to think. But I feel assured- that
something momentous is about to occur. It came to me as I
lay here, and Ican not banish the belief. But never mind
that now. Are the men ready ?” '

“ Yes. It onlyneeds your signal to set them going.”

“‘ Give it, then, Homer,.and have my horse brought here. r

I am not myself to-day.”

“Cheer up, captain. An hour from now you will laugh
1'; these idle forebodiugs,” gayly responded the lieutenant.

“ Or else you will feel as I do. But let it pass. Time
flies and we must not keep the Judge waiting. I am anxious
for the end.”

Homer gave the signal, and the Night-Hawks filed from
the vault, through the building, and then, led by Captain Kit,

 

 

 
 

 

 

    
 

they rode oli‘ at a rapid trot ttward the Pierson ranche. '

  

 

 

um um DAY. 79

The majbrity of the‘ men‘ were in‘high glee, in anticipation of
plunder and rapine, hoping that their intended prey would
really prove obstinate, and thus force their chief" to redeem
his word. ‘

At length they neared the ranche, and to their disgust,
found it open and just as usual. Evidently there would be
no resistance on the part of Pierson that day, else he would
have greeted them with closed and barred doors.

'“ You see, captain,” said Homer, cheerily, “ your'fears
were ill-founded. All will be plain sailing to-day.” ,

“ It really seems so. But for all that, there may be a trap
hidden beneath this appearance of quietude. He is a stub.
born, haughty man, and hardly one to submit so tamely.
But we will see. Stop the men now. They can hear all
that is said, and yet not be so close as to seem bullying. I
will find out how the ground lies." '

Dismounting, Captain Kit deliberately walked up to the
veranda, where the tall form of the settler now appeared,
having apparently been aroused by the ringing tramp of
hoof-strikes. The outlaw chief, after a slight nod, spoke, his
voice sounding clear and distinct, as if for the benefit of his men.

“ Good-morning, Judge. No doubt. you remember what
day this is i” ‘

“ You have“ reminded me of it, often enough, at any rate,”
sullenly replied Pierson, a strange glow in his dark eyes.

“ Very well, then. It will save the trouble of recapitula~
tion. You know what I have come for, then, and'also what
they are with me for. Now then—your answer ?”

“Supposing I say that it is the same as before?
would be the consequence ‘2"

“ In ten minutes you and your family—«with one exception
-—and your servants would be bound to these pillars, with
the blaze bursting out from the house-top. That would be
your reward, while I would have my fair bride—my band its
queen, as well. You see, 1 hold the whip-hand of you.
You can not resist—you are not fool enough to doom yourselt
to certain death; are you wise enough to accept what fate
decrees you ‘9"

I“ You have got me at your mercy; then act the part of a ‘

What

generous foe, and give me a chance." - .

 

.

   
   

  

’men'r-mwx m. '

“ No—except the chance I have already offered. Give me
your daughter Carrie, and all will be well. And be quick
with your answer. I am getting impatient.”

“ Will you take her answer i”

“ Yes, I will—gladly l" instantly replied Captain Kit.
“ Boys,” he added, turning to the N ight-Hawks, “ he asks us
to accept the decision of his daughter—the one whom you
saw the other day. Shall we do it ‘2‘”

“ Yes—yes l" was the general reply, following Homer’s
vorce.

“ You hear,” and Captain Kit smiled as he turned again to
the settler. “ They consent. Her will shall be law to us.”

Pierson did not reply, but stepping to the door, called for.
Carrie. As though expecting the summons, the fair maiden
made her appearance, and stood beside her father, her large,
lustrous eyes resting shyly upon the face of the outlaw chief.

“ Daughter,” said Pierson, taking Carrie’s hand in his and
pressing it re-assuringly, “ I would have spared you this
trial, could I have done so. But now you must speak. The
fate of us all—our life or death—lies in your hands. But
answer truthfully the questions I ask you. First—do yo love
this man i"

“ Yes," was the faintly-murmured reply, as she cast another
shy glance at the radiant face of the outlaw chieftan, who
sprung forward. seemingly oblivious of the fact that fully two
score pair of eyes were curiously watching him, and clasping
Carrie to his breast, rained passionate kisses down upon her
lips.

A low, chuckling murmur ran through the flock of Night-
IIawks, but this was checked by a peremptory word from
Homer. Pierson hit his lips and his face flushed, while his
eyes glittered curiously. I

“ There—there, I believe that will do. I haven‘t a foot left I
to stand on. Carrie, I am astonished at you i” at length said
the judge..

" Why I—I couldn’t help it, father. He is so lig and,
strong," murmured the maiden, shrinking behird her parent,
from the curious gaze of the outlaws.

" Well, then, I suppose it is all settled satisfactorily, except
when I am to claim my fair Wide,” added Captain Kit, joy-

/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

A armor: BETROTHAL. 81

ously ;V and yet his manner was not devoid of a certain tinge of
anxiety. '

“She shall answer that, also," ,

“Well, then—if I must—one week from to-day,” faltered
Carrie.

“ You hear, captain? Is it satisfactory ?"

“A week earlier would have pleased me better. but I sup-
pose I must remain contented as it is.”

“ Very well, and now to confirm our new relations, we must
drink the health of the bride and bridegroom,” cried Judge
Pierson, who appeared strangely excited. “Come with me,
captain, and we will find something to do the honors with. I
have some pure ‘corn juice’ here that I can honestly recom-
mend. Tell your men to wait.”

This speech was greeted with hearty cheers by the Night-
Hawks. and then the two men entered the house. In a few

,minutes they returned, followed by servants bearing gourds,
iugs, and leatnem flasks, filled with the fiery home-made
Whisky. with deer-horn cups and smaller gourds for drinking
utensils. 4

Then each man filled a hearty draught, drinking the health
of the couple so strangely bethrolhed, with stentorian yells
and cheers. Then, after a few whispered words to Carrie,
Cantain Kitreturned to his horse, and dashed otl‘ at the head
of his men, taking the road to the lower ford.

“I thought you were going back to the nest, captain ?‘,’ said
homer. “ You know you promised to send some men 10-day
up to Clafline’s."

“That can be put oli‘. We must try those fellows to-day.
I Wish to go by Crane’s cabin to see what can be learned about
the affair. There must be no mistake.”

“ Perhaps it would be best. But are you in earnest about
punishing them—with death .’”

“If guilty, I am. It must be done for our own good. The
league would not exist six months, unless there was some sem-
blance of law and order maintained. You know that yourslrlf."

“(Yes, I agree with you there. But, captain, it will make

\ trouble for us. I have heard the boys—«that is, a good many 
of them—say that there has been enough punishment. If you
press-it, there will be another mutiny."

 

  

" . decency left.

    

‘78 NIGHT-HAWK m.

“ So be it, thenl The sooner all such scoundrcls are
weeded out from the band the better for such as have some
You will stand by me, of“ course ‘3”

“ Yes. You‘ can count upon me. There will only be
about a dozen whom you need fear. It is a pity that Bogarth
is off with his men. They would uphold you in every thing.
But we can count on two to their one, as it is.”

“ I hope we can get along without any trouble.
try, anyhow.”

’ The party were now riding along near the spot Where had
occurred the conflict detailed in chapter second. At the foot
of the little rise, this road wound through a patch of , quite
dense underbrush and young live-oaks.

Crossing the hill, the Night-Hawks rode slowly into this
' place, unsuspecting any danger, chatting idly over the scene
witnessed at- the Pierson ranche. But they were doomed to a
startling awakening.

A loud cry aroused them from their sense of security. And
then it seemed as though the woods before, behind and upon
either side of them, were one mass of fire.

A fearful volley of rifle-halls was poured into their crowded
ranks, with a deadly efi‘ect. Over one half of the entire num-
ber fell dead in their tracks, while those who escaped a
wound, were the exceptions.

, Then came the quick, spiteful cracking of revolvers, as with
wild yells, a score of mounted men sprung from ambush,
rushing to close quarters. An Herculean form led them, a
pistol in either hand, his naturally placid features horribly
distorted, his eyes burning like those of a maddened wild beast.

It was Josh Crane, striking for vengeance l Each blow
was dealt with double force as he thought of his murdered
wife. He seemed a devil—not a man.

We will

discharge, side by side. Without a leader, the Night—Hawxs
did not think of resistance, although nearly equal in numbers
to their fees.

Demoralized, they only thought of flight. Once within
their nest, they could bid defiance to whatever force might
be brought against them, until the rest of the band returned
to their relief.

Homer and Captain K‘it had both gone down at the first

     

 

 

 

 
  
 

   

smear). 83

  
   
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
 

: For a time this attempt was unsuccessful. Hemmed in,
the outlaws fought desperately, striving to cut their way

m through the cordon of death.

1, Then the line was broken, and fleeing in hot haste, closely

._ pressed, the Night-Hawks rode for life. More than one,

‘ whose animal was wounded, fell beneath the knife, rifle-butt

I or pistol-bullet of their fierce enemies, but others were more
fortunate.

Their horses had been chosen for speed and endurance, so
essential to success in their, calling, and fresh, easily carried
their masters beyond reach of the settlers. Nearly a dozen
in all reached the nest, and were admitted by Hardress, who
had been alarmed by the continuous sounds of firing.

As they entered the building and secured it for defense,
they presented a woeful sight. Not one of the entire rem-
nant but was wounded more or less severely.

“ Whar is the cap’n ?” demanded Steve Hardress, as soon
as he could make himsslf heard through the furious curses
and angry oaths of rage and pain.

“ Dead an’ gone, I reckon i" muttered one of the men, bow-
ing his head upon the table, while great gouts slowly slid from
his left breast and fell to the floor.

“ Don‘t talk that a-way, Hank Felloes,” angrily cried Har-
tdress, his face flushing deeply as he placed a heavy hand upon
the ruflian’s shoulder. “He never did— Ah 1” ,

He uttered a loud cry as the man sunk back upon the floor.
a tremor convulsing his features and a rattle in his throat.
One great, gasping groan, and he was dead!

.., ~....'_

C HAPT‘EB XII.
CAPTAIN xrr arm ms DOUBLE.

- Tim day dragged on drearin enough to the besieged; fc‘
 .Jucn was now the condition of the surviving Night-Hawks.
 Within half an hour from the arrival of the fugitives, the
' building was surrounded by the triumphant settlers, who so

   

 

      
   

  

84 ' NIGHT-HAWK arr.

lected'stations just without rifle range, apparently resolved to
starve the outlaws out.

Believing this to be their purpose, the latter were not in-
clined to force hostilities. Every hour gained thus was an-
other chance for safety. The squad under command of Bo.
zarth must soon return, and then they would wreak a bloody
revenge upon the settlers.

An hour after sunset a voice uttered the regular signal, and-

peering forth, Steve Hardress recognized the form and fea-
tures of his captain. With a glad cry of joy he opened the
door and admitted the outlaw chief.

That worthy had one arm in a sling, and looked rather the
worse forl wear. He explained his unexpected appearance
very satisfactorily.

His horse had received the bullet intended for him, and,
falling. had smashed one arm of its rider beneath the saddle
the pain causing the outlaw to faint. But while the settlers
were in pursuit of the Night-HawksI he had crawled off into
the bushes, where he remained concealed until nightfall.
Then by close creeping he had worked his way through their
lines, to rejoin his comrades.

Soon afterward the majority of the outlaws sought rest in
slumber, nearly all more or less under the influence of liquor.
One of the men who had remained at the nest was detailed as
door-keeper, the prisoners in the cell all having been freed
before Captain Kit’s return, so they might do their part to-
ward defending the house against the anticipated attack.

The outlaw chief sat at one of the tables, his head bowed upon
his hand, while his face was turned toward the man on duty.
That worthy, his senses blunted by his frequent polations
through the day and evening, nodded drowsily ever and anon,
apparently overcome by sleep. The other Night-Hawks were

all within the inner room, or else the vault, sleeping upon V

their arms, ready to flock to the defense at a moment’s warn-
ing should their fears prove true.

Suddenly there came a low, stealthy rap at the door, that
caused the semnolent sentry to spring erect, with the custom-
ary challenge passing his lips. In answer came the secret
password, and then immediately after it the private signal of
captain Kit I

 

 

 

 

 

 
  
 

    

    
  

 
  
  

 
 
 

 
 

 

more '10 non.

‘ n The sentry stood aghast. He gazed first at the door and

— then at the outlaw chief, who sat with his head still bowed

upon his hands. Evidently he was, unable to comprehend
how there could exist two Captain Kits at one and the same
. time.

The signal was repeated and a low voice added:

“ Come—let me in—quick l . ThBre are a lot of those
cursed devils out yonder, and if they get a glimpse of me it
will be all up; Open, I say!"

“ Open the door and let him in," quietly remarked the out

. law chief, as he arose from his seat and drew nearer the door

There was a peculiar smile upon his face, and a glitterinn.

light in his eyes that might not be easily analyzed. Ons
' hand—the unwounded one—fell upon a polished revolver-butt,
and seemed to be caressing it; more than once it was slightly

 raised, as if to ascertain whether the scabbard clung to it or

not.

The wondering sentry opened the door a few inches, and
then, as an agile form glided through the aperture; it Was
closed again and hastily barred. The‘ new-comer stood 113
the ful. blaze and glare of the rude lamps, his form and fea-
tures plainly revealed. .

A cry broke from the three men, as if involuntarily. The
sentinel gazed first upon one and then the other, in openv
mOuthcd astonishment. He rubbed his eyes as though desire

'ous of awaking himself from some dream.

And truly it would have been no slight task for one to
have told which was the genuine outlaw chief, the two men
bore such a marvelous resemblance to each other. The same
form, the same eyes, hair, features and complexion ; only dif:
fering in garb.

And as if to carry out the resemblance still more com!
pletely, these two men, the counterparts of each other, uttered
a name at the same time. and in, tones of wonder;

“ Kirk Dalian f"

The wounded man was the first to collect his wits, and he
glided forward a pace, sternly gazing into the face' of the
other, There was a hard, steely glare in his eyes, and a cold,-
aet smile upon his features that bodod ill for the welfare of

the intruder. .

  

    

 
 

88 mom-mm m.

" You here? You are very kind, Kirk Dalton! I have
spent considerable time in searching for you. Now that we
have met, we will not part soon."

“True,” retorted'the new-comer, “we will not part very
soon. I agree with you there. But whether this period will
be as pleasing as you seem to intimate, remains to be seen."

“ Why have you come‘ here? Is life so worthless that you

can afford to throw it away in'this manner?”
\ “ Ha! ha that is good, I must acknowledge,” laughed the
other, sardonically “You talk as though you were some-
body. Pray, have you joined the band and been elected as
supreme ruler, that you speak so confidently?"

“ I have—and you know it."

“ I do not know it. This band follows one Captain Kit,”
angrily returned the other.

“ I know it—I am Captain Kit,” coolly replied the outlaw
chief.

“ You—Captain Kit i"

“ I—Captain Kit; yes, sir. Have you any thing to say
against it?”

“ J im,” added the new-comer, turning to the sentinel, “ how ‘
is this? You know me; which one of us is‘the captain?"

The door-keeper helplessly began scratching his head, star-
ing from one to the other with an air of ludicrous dismay.
His mouth slowly opened and shut, but he did not speak.
Evidently the enigma was too intricate for him to solve in his
present state of mind. \ ,

“ Hallo, boys!” cried the second Captain Kit, in a loud
tone, his eyes sparkling angrily as he drew his revolver and
confronted his coldly smiling antagonist.

And then ensued a sudden change in the tableau. As the
heavy tramping of the awakened outlaws resounded from the
inner room, the wounded chief sprung forward, and with a
lightning-like stroke, felled the second claimant of the honor-
able oflice to the floor. The heavy revolver-butt instantly de-
prived him of sense. "

This move was so quickly and adroitly made, that there
could be no guarding ainst it. The 'stupefied sentinel did‘
not note the action unti the lifeless form touched the floor.

Then the chief turned toward the confused group which

I

 

 

 
 

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
   
   
   
 

 

wnrcn Is 1wine}! 8‘?

had just entered the room. His‘voice was clear and calm as
he spoke: '

“ There is some deviltry on foot, boys. You see this fet-
low—Kirk Dalton. Well, he came here and pretended he
was me, though I don’t believe he knew I was here. He was
the one who shot my horse to-day. He aimed at my head,
and I suppose he thought he'd finished me for good."

“ What do you think was his object in coming here, capo
tain ?" '

“He could have but one,” slowly replied Captain Kit.
‘Believing me dead he most likely thought he could pass‘
himself ofl‘ as your leader, and thus betray you into the hands
of these cursed settlers. You see he is very much like me—
only he forgot the dress. Why even Jim, yonder, didn’t
know what to say when that fool asked him to tell him which
was which,” laughed the Night-Hawk chief; a peculiar laugh,
but then he was a peculiar man, as the’l'liand knew only too
well.

“He is like you,” added the Night-Hawk, who had spoken
before, in a thoughtful tone. “ Only for the ‘dress he might
easily have deceived us, had you been away. He is 0. dan-
gerous person, and I for one am glad he is where we can keep
our eyes upon him.” ,

“ It. is Kirk Dalton. You all know I have tried hard to
get hold of him before, for I feared he would work us some
harm, with that face. He could have passed for me with al-
most any of the boys, and might have learned too much for
our good, in that way. But he is safe now, and we will see that
he remains so. Take him, some of you, and put him 'in the
hole. My arm hurts me worse, but I will go along and see
him secure.” » - -

The still senseless body was lifted up and conveyed to the
hole, and there securely fastened by the iron chain and girdle
Then Captain Kit relocked the door, slipping the key into his
own pocket.

 

  

    

CHAPTER XIII.
THE OATH on THE BORDER.

Trm reader will remember that when Josh Crane reached
the ranche of Judge Pierson on the night he encountered the
Night-Hawk lieutenant, Red Hirble, a servant told the old hun-
ter that Pierson wished to see him immediately ; and also the
greeting words of the settler :

“ I have great news for you, Crane l”

Truly, a welcome surprise awaited the old hunter, when he
entered the library. A tall form sprung forward, and clasp-
ing his hands, greeted him warmly. ,

Forge time the scout was fairly dumbfounded. He could
scarcely believe his eyes. He was the person whom he had
believed he had seen at the nest—Kirk Dalton l

In a few words the seeming mystery was explained, and
both men saw they had greatly wronged the young herdsman
by their suspicions. They comprehended that there must be
another man wondrously like Dalton, who had well-nigh
proved a fatal "double."

Crane listened to a strange and romantic story that will be
explained in due time, and then the three friends consulted to-
gether and concocted a feasible plan for the discomfiture
of the outlaw band. Each had a part to play, and with the
stake at issue there was little likelihood of their failing from
lack of energy.

Crane was to secretly depart and collect a number of his
old comrades in the recent war for Texan independence. He
felt assured that he could gather at least a score; perhaps
more.

We have seen how he succeeded, and also at what a fear-
ful sacrifice. He returned to find his cabin in ashes, and,
within the ruins, the charred bones of his dearly beloved
wife.

He was at no loss to account for this deed, and before an,-
other day had passed he knew who were the murderer;

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
  

 

 

 

 

    

   
  
   

  

A RACE FOR LIFE. 89

«

Only one of them lived, Roaring Sam, and against nim Crane
had sworn “ the oath of the border.” From that moment the
Night-Hawk was a doomed man.

They both were concerned in the fight heretofore detailed,
where the Hawks were so cunningly entrapped, and upon
Roaring Sam’s heart Josh Crane had drawn a. bead. By .1
narrow chance—the sudden turning of his horse‘s head—the
outlaw escaped the bullet.

Then he had dashed through the mélee, and fled for dear
life. The point chosen was the weakest, but yet it was in
nearly an opposite direction from the nest; a fatal error on
the fugitive’s part, as he speedily realized.

With a hoarse howl of rage Crane urged his huge charger
through the crowd, and with only thought for the one man,
he dashed wildly after the fleeing murderer. Roaring Sam
heard the cry, and glanced over his shoulder. A livid shade
crept over his features as he noted the avenger upon his track.

He felt that he was doomed. What brute courage he nat-
urally possessed, deserted him now, just when he needed it
the most.

Had his very life depended upon his doing so, he could
not have met the borderer now hand—to-hand. He thought
only of flight, and knowing the quality of the horse he be-
strode the outlaw plied reins and spurs until the tortured ani-
mal uttered shrill neighs of pain and anger.

Crane did not speak or utter a single sound after that one
wild, mad cry. He bent forward and gave his horse free
rein. The noble creature seemed endowed with wings, so
rapidly did he go mm the ground; apparently unconscious of

the heavy weight upon his back.

For fully two miles the Night-Hawk maintained his van-
tage. and even increased it. But his beast was light built; a

. clinker at a brushI but l..cl\'ing in bottom. His bolt was ",1.

ready well nigh shot. '
The black horse thundered on in his rear, as though a mere

'machine. Not a hair was turned; not a single drop 0f sweat
as yet stained the glossy blackness of his coat. Josh Crane
knew that/it was only a question of time. He had implicix
confidence in the power of his horse. But one other upon
the Texan prairies had he found that could equal him.

 

no mom-11am m.

The outlaw plied his spurs until the long rowels dripped
blood. He cast many a. glance over his shoulder tremblingly.
And as he noted the strides of the black horse his heart sunk
within him.

He feltthat he was doomed. A broad stretch of “ rolling
prairie ” lay before them. Two hours, even at their present,
rate of speed, would not suflice to cross it.

And yet, in less than that time, his horse would fall dead,
if indeed he was not overtaken before. Then he bethought
him of his weapons. A lucky shot might disable the huge
black or its rider. If so, he would be safe.

Scarce fifty yards now separated the enemies; less than
three-fourths of what it had been at the start. There was no
time to lose. He saw Crane disengage the lasso from the sad-
dle-pommel.

Turning in his saddle, Roaring Sam fired two shots. The
tall avenger still sped on, untouched. Again and again the
revolver cracked, until the chambers were an empty, and yet
nothing was gained by the N ight-Hawk. On the contrary a
good deal was lost, for unassisted by the reins, the chestnut
horse stumbled frequently, and thus lost ground.

Then the long lasso was hurled through the air. Roaring
Sam flung up his knife arm, but the noose fell over it and his
shoulders. Then he was plucked from the saddle and hurled
violently to the ground.

His horse instantly paused, its head drooping, trembling in
every limb. The strain had been too great, and with a feeble
neigh, he tottered, reeled, and then sunk down, the hot blood
gushing from his nostrils. ‘One great quiver, and he ‘was
dead.

Crane rode up and dismounted, and bound the outlaw’s

hands behind him. Then he sat down and awaited his re-
covery.
! There was no expression upon his face 'other than that same
cold, stony look that he had worn ever since he had first
gazed upon the scene of death and desolation. He seemed
like a galvanized corpse.

Roaring Sam speedily recovered his senses, and then, with-

out a word, Crane tightened the noose of the lasso around the j'

outlaw‘s neck, and mounting his horse, jerked Roaring Sam

 
   

 
  

 

 

   
 
 
  

 

 
   

l I PREPARATIONQ'SOT T0 “.mBUNDERfiI‘OOD. 91

pped to his feet. Nordid the latter speak. The stony calmness «

33155 of the old hunter awedhim.
The avenger rode on, never once casting a glance behind

sunk

. him. Forced to a half run, Roaring Sam trotted along be-
]an bind, the noose tightening about his neck at every lagging.
sent Once. he tumbled and fell upon his face. Crane did not

pause. The groans of the tortured wretch Were horrible as
rad, I he was dragged along through the harsh stubbles and prickly
gm pears. Then, with a desperate efl‘ort, he managed to scramble
to his feet, black in the face, with blood streaming from his

1 e

g ’ nostrils and from the lacerated flesh.

an It was high noon when Crane drew rein beside the charred
no - ruins of his once cheerful little cabin. It was now dreary
d. and chilling. Roaring Sam trembled like a leaf: his teeth

chattering together, his form quivering with vague horror.

to Crane moved about in stern silence. Evidently his course
9 ‘ was fully decided upon. The Night-Hawk could bear it no
t longer. Better know the worst at once, than be left in such
| ' x J agonizing suspense. \

“ What ’re you goin’ to do ’th me, Mister Crane i” he faltered,
his voice husky and dry.
p’ The, old hunter did not speak. He went to the little stable
’3 and wrenched apart the timbers with his naked hands, though
'y an ax lay at hand. This exerting his enormous strength,
k though upon an inanimate object, appeared to afford him a
‘- peculiur salisfaction.
J i These timbers were flung in a pile, and then selecting one
‘ ' of the strongest beams, Crane deliberately sharpened one end
M'itl. the ax, and then drove it firmly into the ground.
if 1‘ The craven wretch glared upon these preparations with a
‘ horrible fear racking his heart. He could not misunderstand
the meaning of these actions.
He knew that he was doomed to the stake—that he was can.
416de to safer death byfire!
Ile burst out with a storm of pleadings and prayers for
Av mercy. He would submit to any punishment but that.
. , », He begged that Crane would shoot him through the brain at
-l Nice, but not. to torture him at the stake.
Ooldly stern and impassible as before, the huge borderer
llrooeeded about his task, and never once spoke in answer tn

 

 

o

92

NIGKT‘HAWK KIT.

the supplications of the N ight-Hawk.
timbers were stacked up around the stake, to which was
fastened a long log-chain, Crane turned toward Roaring
Sam. '

In his Herculean grasp, the burly outlaw was but a very

child, and despite his frantic struggles and kicking, Crane held
him against the stake and then bound him with the log chain.
Though his head was free, the chain wound around his body,
heldthe outlaw upright.
’ Then Josh Crane spoke to his victim, for the first time
since his capture. His voice sounded harsh and strained, very
unlike the bold, free tone habitual to him. The blow had
changed him fearfully.

“ Sam Hebron, you’ve bin brung here to make amends as
fur as your wuthlcss karkidge ’11 do it. fer a black, hellish
thing thet you did—you an’ your pardners. You've did this,”
and he nodded toward the charred ruins of the little cabin.
“ An‘ you must pay fer it, too.”

“I didn’t—’twan’t me,” faltered Roaring Sam, his teeth
chattering audibly.

“ Don’t lie—’twon’t do you no good ; .not a smich. I know
you did do it; you an’ Old Mose, Foxy Jnke an’ Bob Rattle-
snake. T'others is (lead; so’ll you be, in a hour from now.
I wouldn't ’a’ minded it so much ef so be you’d ’u’ come an’
did all this when I was to hum, ’ca‘se then it ’d ’a’ bin a more
even thing. I count myself good fer the best hafe a. dozent

fellers as you kin rake an' scratch up out 0’ your gang 0' cu't- '

throats.

K “ But you waited ontil I hed gone away. You was afeerd
to tackle the old man, you was, an’ so snaked around ontil he
hcd gone, ads you could aim a. lick at him through his old
woman. Wal, you murdered her; you an' the rest. They’ve
paid as big a price as they was able, fer it; now it’s your
turn.

“ You see what I‘m gnin’ to do ’th you. I’m goin’ to burn
ye! I’ve turned your face so't you kin see what" the 01d
cabin stood, an’ over thar’, aneath the block—jack, is whar I’ve
kivercd up all thet was left 0’ my pore Hepsy. You kin look
thnr’, an’ think fer what you’re a-b’in’ punishet ." |
"' Marcy-marcy fer the love 0’ God, Crane: daft do this I"

  

And then as the '«

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mmmrovmxon’mn. '93,

groaned the traven wreteh, his face livid with fear, and form
quivering with agonized terror.

“ N o; thar’ hain‘t no mercy fer sech as you be. "You caiu’t
’preciate it, ef you see‘d it. You didn’t show no matey to
her-—you mustn’t look fer none from me. I‘ve sworn that
I tuck the oath o’ the bor-
der on it, too, so you may as well give up all thoughts 0’ life,
But I’ll act the white man by ye.

“ Ef so be you hev any messidge or word to anybody, tell
me what it is, an’ I'll do my best but what they shall hev it.
Speak out—is thar’ any thin” ‘P” _ '

“ Spar” my life—I don’t want to die—I cain't die—I ain’t
fit to die! I’m awful wicked. Let me hev time to grow
Say yes, an’ I’ll bless
ye forever. I’ll lick yer feet—I’ll be your nigger an’ let you
Walk on me all day, at so be you’ll on’y spar’ my life i" '

“ It's so you're not fit to die, but nuther be ye fit to live.

V, , Ef I let you live ontil you ’pented, you mought be old Me-
. thuselmus great grau‘daddy, as fur as age is consarued. No,

Roaring Sam, your time has come. You’ve run to the eeud
But say a hit 0’ u pra’r, ef so be you was
It may do you some good, herea‘ter, though

ever l’arnt any.
I give you jest ten minutes

I doubt it ’maziu‘ly. Go on.
More I tech the fire 013'.” V
The doomed N ight-Hawk continued his pleadings, but he

emight as well have spoken to a stone, as to the man whom

he had so bitterly wronged. All the love Crane had felt for
his murdered wife—the companion of his youth as well as
old age—seemed turned to hatred and all showered upon th.e
nurderer.

The minutes slowly rolled by, and the old hunter crouched
upon the ground, his head bowed over the huge “ bull’s-eye "
watch, that lay in his broad, horny palm, while Roaring Sam
pleaded, raved, cursed and prayed by turns ; but in vain.
His doom was sealed. He must die, in part expiation for his
fiendish crime.

“ The time is up, Sam Hebron," slowly uttered Crane, as
he arose and produced his flint and steel.

The outlaw was silent while the click-clstw continued, and

“ his bloodshot eyes were fixed with a horrible intensity upon

 

  

 

u » mean-1mm am

the tiny shower of sparks as they descended from the friction.
Then one caught upon the piece of punk, and under the
breath of the old scout, it gradually grew larger.

Then tiny shavings were placed upon the glowing spark,

and breathed gently upon until they burst into a bright blaze,
tiny and feeble at first, but fast gaining strength and power.
Carefully feeding this, Crane heeded not the prayers and sup-
plications of his victim.

Then at several points the fire waseplaced among the dry
mass of timbers, and when it once fairly got under way,
Crane withdrew from the spot, and stood leaning upon his
rifle, coldly watching the ascending flames. and the distorted
features of the ill-fated Night-Hawk. as he writhed convul-
siver beneath the first pangs of that horrible death.

But we care not to dwell upon this subiect. It was too
tearful. And yet it was scarcely more than lustice.

A fiendish .deed had been committed in cold blood. An
innocent person—a woman—had been sacrificed to glut a
vengeance against one whom the brutal murderers dare not
confront in person.

Joshua Crane had received a frontier education. His far
ther, mother and only sister had been murdered by the In
‘ dians; he himself had been taken captive and brutally treated

through four long years, ere he could efl'ect his escape. Two
of his sons had been killed by the Mexican guerrillas ; a third
had been shot from ambush by some cowardly miscreant
most probably one of those very men who had dealt him thil
last deadly blow.

' A kinder heart, naturally, never beat in human bosom
than that of J oshua Crane’s. But this calamity had crazed
him, or else warped his brain until he was no longer himself.
He thought only of vengeance now, and since all but this one
had escaped him—for such he regarded their deaths by other
hands than his own—he felt it a solemn duty to punish this
one Whom he held in his power to the ,utmost extent.

An hour later he still stood in the, same position. He
gazed upon the faintly flickering embers. The post still.
stood, blackened and charred. To it hung, suspended by the;
chain, a horrible remnant of what had so recently been a
strong man, full of life and spirit.

 

  

 
  

 

   
 
 
 

 
 

  

than.
' the

tark, .

aze,
ver.
nup.

35’,
1i:
ed
ll-

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  

rrm warm mo. 95

Then with a long-drawn sigh, the avenger turned away
from the spot, heart-sick and weary of - existence. Only for
one‘ thing he would have ended his life then and there.

But until the last remnant of the accursed Night-Hawks
was exterminated, he must live. After that—he cared little
what became of him. The last tie that bound him to earth
had been severed it the death of his wife.

CHAPTER XIV.
THE NEST nmnnn.

Trm Night-Hawks did not seem inclined to return to their
Ilumbers after this startling interruption, but stood around in

little knots, conversing eagerly, but in low, subdued tones.

More than one anxious or curious glance was cast toward Cap.
tain Kit, who had resumed his seat at the rude table.
His head was bow‘cd upon one hand, and his eyes closed,

‘ but a keen observer might have noted the occasional quiver

of an eyelid that told he was 'not above stealing a curious
glance toward the more earnest talkers. But he seemed per-
fectly at ease, for all that.

Suddenly he started up, saying to the door-keeper, who was
still confusedly scratching his head as though endeavoring by
that means to restore his wits to their natural equilibrium af-

ter the shock they had undergone:
“ Jim, what did that fellow—Dalton—say about there being

" a. lot of the settlers out yonder ‘2"

“He said thar’ was. ,Thet he was afeared as how they’d
shoot him of I didn't let him in quick.”

“ Of course he lied ; but yet there may be some who are
watching the nest, ready to pick ofl’ any of us who may tep
out in sight. The grove is at short range for such men as

‘ they are.”

“ You don’t think they be thar’,,do ye ?” stammered Jim,
Ihrinking away from the door; for the tales told of the dea-
perate valor and ferocity of the settlers. by those who but. a.

l

 

  

  

NIGHT-HAWK m'r.
caped from the ambush, had greatly agitated the worthy sen-

“ I don’t know; but it is easily found out. "Who will step
outside and take a look ?" added Captain Kit, glancing around
upon the crowd ; but no one stepped forward.

- Perhaps they objected from principle to expose their ten-
der bodies to the probable salute of a leaden bullet, merely to
demonstrate the truth or fallacy of a surmise, The outlaw
chief glanced around with a peculiar smile; but then he was
‘ a peculiar man. However, it lasted only for a moment ; then
he spoke in a quick, sharp tone, that told how determined he
was in the course he proposed. to pursue:

“ Very well, then. I don’t blame you.
self.
can pass myself off as Kirk Dalton, you know. He is in
here. And then I can find out their plans. We must beat
them off until Bogarth returns with the rest of the boys, when
we will have it all our own way. And I promie you, we will
make these cursed meddlers sweat tears of blood for this rum-
pus. We will sweep every horn and hoof before us. I
swear it 1” A

Loud cheers followed this speech, and the Night-Hawks
seemed reanimated by their leader‘s spirit. Then he bade them
remain out of sight, and keep quiet until his return, but
upon no account to open the door until fully assurred of his
identity.

The door opened and he glided forth, proceeding directly
toward the grove that surrounded the spring. He was
obliged to cross a bright, moonlighted space, and evidently
trusting in the strong resemblance, he strode boldly along
until he reached the outer trees. ,

A tall form confronted him, and a voice spoke: the voice
of Josh Crane:

“ Is that you, Kirk 9"

‘5 Yes,” was the immediate reply; “it’s me.”

“ Wal ; how does the thing work i”

“ Finely. Couldn’t be better. But I came near getting
into trouble. The real Captain Kit made his appearance, and
I had to settle him."

“ You didn‘t kill him?"

But I will go my-

There will be but little danger, for if they are there, I .

 

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Airbag

 

 

     

fiu~ubgH$

‘ .

u

x

7' . think I can get them to go and lie down again.

   

LAYING mm runs. ' 97

l

1‘ No—God- forbid l, But I have him a safe prisoner.
Now what have you decided upon—what we poke of ?”

“ I reckon. But you know best. You’ve bin inside.
How is it?”

“ Well, there are only about a dozen of them in all, and I
Then I
will settle the fellow on watch, and let you in. You can
each pick your man, and do the job up as you please; either
wipe them out at once, or take them, prisoners.” -

“ It’ll ’mount to the same in the eend, anyhow, but we

will keep ’em to stretch hemp, I reckon. How long '11 it be
afore you’re ready for us ?”

v “ I can’t say. As soon as possible, though, for there is no

is telling when the other gang will be along. and if we are

' caught between two fires, they‘ll serve us worse than we did
them to-day. I will hold a candle before the loop-hole in

‘ the door when I want you. Then come up and we will
make a clean sweep of it,“ hurriedly spoke the outlaw chief.

. “ All right. But go back now, for some 0’ the rest

mought take a notion to come out, and then stumble on some
0’ the boys.”

“ I frightened all such ideas out of them,” laughingly
replied the young man, as he turned and retraced his steps.

As the moonlight fell upon his face it revealed a strangely
conflicting expression. There were joy, delight, fear and a.
peculiar shade of regret playing upon the handsome features,
that told the captain’s mind was far from being at ease.

After some little delay, caused by the doubting fears of
Jim, the door-keeper, he was admitted and eagerly questioned

 

 fins to what had really occurred, and whether there was any

 
 

truth in the assertion of the counterfeit Captain Kit.

“ Not one word—as yet; although there may be some lurk-
ing around, I didn't see any one, and I searched the grove
thoroughly. You may as well go and finish your snooze, for
there is no tellingth you will have another such chance.
Those devils mean to make a clean job of it, I fear. Either
they or us will have to be wiped out. My arm won’t let me

 

 

~:
It

 

 

sleep it I lie down, so I will help Jim stand guard.”
After some little discussion, the outlaws retired to the in.
nor room and soon were soundly sleeping.

  

  

 

    

'88 ‘ NIGHT-HAWK arr:

Alter assuring himself of this fact, Captain Kit turned to-
ward the door-keeper, whose head rested upon his knees, while
a heavy, rumbling snore, told how sound was his slumber.
Gliding toward him with a. cat-like step, he at the same time
withdrew his left arm from its sling. From the manner in
which he moved it, the wound could not have been a very se-
:ious one, or else it had healed With marvelous celerity.

For a moment he stood over the somnolent sentinel, a. shade
of regret resting upon his pale features. Then a stern smile
chased the shadow away, and he drew a long knife from his
belt.

One arm shot quickly around beneath the Night-Hawk’s
head, and drew him forcibly back, thus garroting him. Then
almost'ere the eyes could open, there came a brilliant flashing
as the steel shot down and sunk with a dull, thrilling thud to
its very hilt in the unfortunate man’s chest.

A single spasm distorted his features; one quiver agitated
his form, and a sullen, gurgling moan rose to his throat. But
the strong arm checked its- utterance, and then with an in-
voluntary shudder the slayer gently lowered his victim to the
floor, and withdrew his knife. I

Then he mOVed one of the rude lamps from its bracket,
and opening the slide in the door, used as an observatory or
loop-hole, he held the light where it could be seen from the

grove without. He remained thus until there came a low rap
upon the door.

Gently replacing the lamp, he 'opened the ‘door and ad-.

mitted the Herculean form of Joshua Crane. After-him came
over a score of hardy settlers and hunters, who had been col-
lected by the old scout for this purpose, as before mentioned.
“ They are in there, boys. ‘ Step lightly and take them pris-
oners. Don’t use your Weapons unless absolutely necessar’.
Let them have a fair trial.
shed already,“ and the young man shuddered uneasily.
Headed by Josh Crane, the settlers gently glided into the
Second room, and likewise the vault, each outlaw being sin-
gle'd out by one or more of their fees. Then'at a signal from'
the young man, they pounced upon their prey, and, without
an exception, had them securely bound, with cords previded
beforehand, ere they could-realize their Neril.

   
 
 
 
 

There has been enough blood- '

    
  
  

do
«a

£9
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mm. _ 90

2 Deep, bitter and vindictive were the curses showered upon

me the young man, by the betrayed N ight-Hawks, as they beheld
him standing free and unbound, smiling at their diseomfiture.

her

The smile deepened to a laugh as he replied:

ime ~ '

in “spare your curses, my good friends, until you are sure

se_ who you are addressing. I am not your leader—never was,
only in seeming. You were kind enough to assist my plans

do by making Captain Kit, as he calls himself, a prisoner, and

putting him in the hole, yonder. 1 am Kirk Dalton, very
much at your service,” and the young man bowed mockingly.
, The real captain Kit was now brought from the stone cell,
,,  and as the outlaws perceived how they had been duped by a
bold and cunning enemy, their rage was frightful. But the
Is harm was done and it was entirely too late f0' .epinings.
, The prisoners were secured in the vault, and then the sets
tlers assumed their places, the better to receive the anticipated
s visit of Bogarth and his men. 0n the next day those wor-
thies came in with a fine lot of stolen animals, and being sur-
prised, were secured after a brief but desperate fight, in
which several were killed upon either side.

A week afterward the lot were brought before Judge
Lynch, and the more desperate sentenced to be hung, while
the rest were terribly scourged and ordered to leave the
country. An order they were only too glad to obey. V

The capital sentence was carried out, and proved the means ‘
of stopping all further depredations in that section of the State.

A few words will suflice to connect all scattered threads.

The night that Captain Kit visited Pierson‘s ranche, alone
—-when he met his mother——he was captured in the garden
by Dalton and several others. Then Kirk assumed the out-
‘law’s part, and, posted by Carrie regarding the interior 0f thl
house, he had taken the chief’s post, the better to exterminate
the band. ' '

V Captain Kit—or George Harkin—had only thought of his
scheme since accepting command of the “ station." He had
noticed both Carrie and Kirk at their meeting near the grove,
(chapter second) and, fired with a wild Passion: TBSOIVGd in
win her for himself.

Spying around the macho afterward» he had even heard

the conversation between Judge Pierson and the We,

 

 

 

    

  

   
 

.00 NIGHT-HAWK arr.

when the suit of the latter was SCOI‘DCd.‘ And following
Kirk, he also eavesdropped the vow uttered by Carrie, in the
garden; afterward making adroit use of the knowledge, to
sustain the belief that he was in reality the young herdsman.

In his first disappointment, Dalton had ridden assiduously
to Millican, where he met a friend who delivered a. message,
telling him that the mystery of his birth would be solved, if
ha hastened at. once to Galveston. He did so, and found
Katherine Harkin, the mother of Captain Kit. -

She told him a strange story, but substantiated by ample
proofs, that he was the legitimate son of Casper Pierson, then.
residing in Alabama. He had been stolen in infancy by her,
in revenge against the man who had first deceived and then
deserted her.

Finally Kirk Dalton—or Casper Pierson—prevailed upon
her to accompany him to the home of her he loved, confident
that his uncle would no longer reject his suit.
they escaped the notice of Captain Kit’s spies, and the visit
resulted as detailed.

Carrie, too, had played her part in the drama. It was ab-
solutel'y. essential to the success of their plans that some defin-
ite knowledge was had of the interior of the nest. Hence

_her note to, and meeting with, Captain Kit, acting as though
she believed him her true lover.

Before the trial took place, Katherine Harkin managed to
gain access to her son, and together they committed suicide.
Better that than death by the rope, that otherwise awaited
him. So died Caspar Pierson’s half~brother.

Caspar, first received by his family. wedded the true-hearted
Carrie, and lived upon the place where they first learned to
love one another, and are now among the wealthiest stock-
growers of Texas.

Josh .Crane sunk into a sort of . stupor, after the excitement
was over,- and died within a month from the brutal murder of
his dearly beloved wife. United so long, he could not exist

without her .

 

 

 
 

   

f, , mm

 

Fortunately, _ , ,

 

 

 

 
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
   
    

..-"',l.)1MI+3

STANDARD

DIALOGUE,

.‘

For Sohool Exhibitions and Home Entértainmouts.

In. 1 £0 11 lululn. ll to 55 Popular Dldn
395:: plan, urn pou-pnl

5‘,‘

u “I Dramas (I each book. loot volume I.
on roaelpl of price, an cams.

I. Bead); & Adams. Publishers, 98 William St... N. Y.

E's!- volurnu lav-n bun yropnml with up-clnl nforonco ta thntr nvrillbmz
II ad a» nchnoll Ina melon \ Ith 0r wnhout the l'urnlluru 1,!- -ugr snd

'3?) both nnlo And fomlln.
' n so many unful Ind Avdlwh Amlagnf- And at

w \ YOUNG PEOPLE of nary “-

‘u in tho mnku, n my pflu, comm
’3 has. lunar wd untlmuat.

l

y for Exhlblllcq:
I I numdxuscnc
l; n h" to ‘uuP-u :l-l

DIME DIAMGVES, N0. 1.

I an Mum. Far nino young lull".
,g .0 who Engl’phmnn. For mm boy.
a“ I detention. For «all. and male.
a! Fat “re lndln.
I‘M . For le ho .
Mil- wlll you Clams! or Iwoboyl.
n of Mly. For lwo 11m. girln.
I an Party. For (our India.
fun Sunni In Woddnd Llh. Mal-and bank.

“.I- Snlflu' Cub-«Ion. Far null. and (emulc.
lhc Minlon a! m Spirlu Flu young Indian.

 

H
Ll‘lu Sacra or Succun.

For five all-an.

for um: I
Armada. ’l‘hroo mu" m
luo’l Bunny.

ohnnbblng,
m

Hm {numb

Four lam-l“. on. nay

’Youn
on

'l‘ho ally a! “a Dull. For thru mnlupuk.‘
D

Minn. Fur llmo malt sputum
rant Confoundod. For urn My.

Th1 t Yonn Mun. For two m-la.

Th. You-‘- 3» cling, "funk. at l

The Vlllago wlih Gnu O-v)lt,..mr..z M"

DIME DIALOGUES N0. flu

l'lu Gonna: A! Llifflv. 9 mil“ Ind I fault.
Clndorolls or Thu Um. Gl-u Slippfl.

ho old-n Rulu. 'l‘vu mnlu And two fan-lob
fl. Gm of the Fairy Qucen. Savor-l [011mm
fs‘nn ll and Don. For. For nu- chunk".

Th Cauntry Ann Vim. to an em. For m
on! chm

fluh'l'ro Ram-H. For two mnlu.
Y

Ff the Chan-aura. For “m. ml... .
flu my Fully. For Ionnl 'nnhub
flu bow. Gol- sour-l Clan-cum

M: a ‘~ For n on!" school.
a.“ 311::- Ji'onuon. I'M Ion (um-la.
3.4 0‘ III'. A Inna. Forfln ml”.
Undo: Definition. I lull-I. I tennis.
lulu”?
hull; elm by I. ' or “mama: and».

 

Reyna-1h. 0|- A Ourluqno. 4 lulu.

l

Goo II PAylng Bud. Suvml rhnnrtm-IA Sunullo I M La“.
@

ffln 01d Ind 'I Will. In {our main.

lu‘twflsfi.
lul. For Aw: «I
For two
i Guanmrn. For two mil".
0 Tum Men 0! Balm“.

mnlu an: on may.
Howie Vv'la‘l’n r ,
’l‘bo Nun”! the mm}

y For (our mks.

mm mm span...» horn. and;
How to Had An 
Tho Virtue l.

For two Hula
alr- Yor an mnlu.
For le you; hdlu.

Th0 Engllm Tr“

mun mucous, no. a.

The Gmlu. Cook. For two lulu.
'Muhl'phci. For two mlu M m m
PM Two Runam. For “to ruin.

Elba slung.)l  rnhfw‘two‘m
.Iowmr l on . numlfm‘
The 31ml. 3:“. A Ran-um For no link

DIME DIALOGUES N0. 4.

m MA 7.1! ,. For In 9r mo:- 1 mm...
lawn 11 Li. 2. Thu. m-lu Ind hm (mu...
hllh, Eh a r... Charity. Fat Man. Hula 'lrll.
Durb m In. For hm lulu and one fenul
fhu . a . A “'onl Fm". For-Ix lln'agl
l'ne Enrl nun-l Pt“... I malolp and ’3
«nor‘ 'thunllunorll Duo, 7 mnlu,l (mull,
Cfionl. )‘oruv-rnl "lulu-,0" famm

Th- SCngb'etowl Volnnw. I ml", l fun-h
A'Sune Ira-u “ Paul Pry." For four Mk9.
'l‘uo Chumn. Fnr llama mnlu and we ’emnlt.
Bu, Cluck and Bruom. For thus Huh [ier
The ngM 'r’lq). AColloquy. Io> twvbofi
Whit the I idgfl' Snyl. FM "-0 mnlu.

Tha (‘rimu .y.’ Dru“. ACollaqu - Fa:
'rm Ruwm ' a! Bmovolenca.  (or ‘n

 

D‘quuiol. Fur twouty “lulu.

DIME DIALWJUES, 11'“) 5.

Daniel. Far school or nrlor.

an,“ A “ Thro- P‘unnr' ” I to.
M tho Curtain. For mllu Ind fun-In.
ml!- Pl Society. Flu buy- nnd n tan-l”.

halo-don Dny. Fur Iova {mule elumhn MI-tr

Mn In“ Tn " Forum! 1min.
ho . 1 Boy: Tribunal. For \n boys.
kl no r. Sacral lulu and Yamaha.

Kr ’ol to II Anlwor. FM two famnlu.

I

I
l
1

Thu hulk! E-‘z; two man

a.

Pc'bflnx o- h‘fl. \ Collqu ,rm II.‘ E
7h: firmly! 3;“ “var; y up;

'71" u: o! 4 o. allo “y. For tax m
hum fl'om Mulno Full":
{-Menoy. An AulngChmdo.

The S x \ Man. For “lining lull“.

Tho lril‘nnnn n Home ar “om-III.
Fabian sbh thnlmu. For thru King.

A 3." 1! I" (Eyu). For eight orlul [inlang

DIME DIALOGUFS, N0. 8.

I'm. Way'l'hny Re)» I Sum. Mnla and fem-l...
h! i’mn nulcr Dlflcnl'lu For flu m-lu.
'u'um TIll. for I what. uhool.
"uu’s Rink Man (can!

:3”. Yer-koala. .
Infill-Inland... m

The Tao Conn-ohm. ,0! Ohm mnlu.
The 'fnv-rlu of Folly. For I number at“
tun’ Jauy’n Donut. Four lovable. and 1w M.

In» ad“. ’1‘?“ leul Sult. For two {om-1.. A
loo-mu um chum. M um am. e "’ °” "0‘

for ~ mum-r i
a 29m“ ram... '0: megubl?

no'rm. Nun. Powwow“ I“

 

    

E n Utah AI Mia All thou
1. Wuan Hind,” Sandal
'l. . u m!- «cm In, A d
but km] "0 In, M 3:

‘0‘
h: 6%.“, .- wu- Muy
“’3 :1th A hollhy dun-m,
flu hum. rul'crl, how Tobin lo M OM“,
thny “ Ipnhl " old In. (Sling
“cull-h anm on x pnrady,
Methern—lnw, II'I d nu,
an didn't all &- hm, F7111 Unduqu ,fld.
ru. (run nary of Frank -)|d Gunloy.

 

Iin'l H mu pm po-Mlm m-
I would I w". a buy tlun,

mun, IV'iddar Gml’l Inn
A unmade “on, words, l

mu M3001. climax—st and Dialogum.

DIX! nuncr MAKER, No. 23.
I a boo,

 
   

Luull Chlnm ouwn M noighbot'Id
Tho muflul dun-3i 60:53.!“ )1)me

tho Iii-hm“, cull.
Pu" MeCnnn, Thu Norddu,
Spgnyl from Jon Bu Lax-mil o! Aflln, I

l tr 0
ma“
0 toning mun.

nth low ads: The lil‘lignt flu!

 

 

da 1:, u
A Nauru rollgiou pun, Thu lmlo bub)
Tim viollu th- torn",
Piude dclidg‘m, A gonowino 1m
Our undi lll’l Vina, An. lnviuflnn

Dundnu "I whdom, bird a! “bony.
PM" kn up by mm- The crow,
{Ill Jun, um wan.

DIME DIAIWUEI No. 26.

I'm IOIIIIIII. Thu- hdla And two gnu-nun.
Haunt-hm n6 Mala-hull. Six him and noun]

Imc‘lm
A mt thud did not (Ill. le hon.
l'wo wu- wl nah; Hahn. Two llnlo rll.
Don't» cu». your ehlckom baht. u If.

bucked. [our Ind!“ sad I boy.
A“ h (nit la Ian and wlr. I India, 9 IIIIIOIIUI.
How Auk!» got Ht! 0! flu log-:1. we ml]...
with anal trunnion-nuns.

Th0 lulu of many. Two ury null M

Pvuflu what you punch. hut mm.

Palm-Inn. Numeroul chuumu.

The «Eva-In. Anni. Tv-o lulu and hi
haul».

Grub. Two all".

A slight mu. Thu. fomdn And on. In].

Imbodhd Iunhlnc. Three ,lonn' lulu.

How flu Pam dial. Two an...

I)!“ DIALOGUE! No. 27.

3:» O'Dowl’u umpdgl. For “no mdu
Ill an. lam-lo.

filmy kahuna IOI flwun jut. I‘m-mun

' boyn.

Mow-dent. N “moron chuck".

(rm. Four nqu and an {tn-la“

Th- mm lhl'l good up! For lwo lulu at
two mu. 1h I. .
"Thu ungnhlul nm. I| It." For two Ink.
1f Hm! all many. I”  ' Huh llrln.
App-mun tn haw-L For sum!
and on. nan-1m:
Lav-'5 proud. '0' Ow. lilo 31m.
An unforud aura. For uvul.‘ that-euro.
Thou who punk and the «3 who pattern. In

 

hunk!“ Ann. for nun) um.
15 doubt. Il‘

Jim wan {I "nr In hdlu.

mm will can “an! For I )Mly Ind two but.
lI-c'n um: flu but. For {our boyl.

rmd Ind loud Waning. I‘nr uvonl lulu.
. boy’I 1:!“ Mann! Ill-runn-
1' I'M M

“all. as W| yr

 

ho "hum nth.

HUD“ 0 AM” ’ML D! WM»- Ih I. I.

um. min.
A (n‘Jo «aquat- l'or tn a nu; (uh.

no oold iy Randall-I "who", or w!“ M an. pomp“. h-

 

 

 

. \ . , .' “i A“ 5‘3  " "‘

fl ' ' N 7 ~ » «

DIlVIL POLKET N()V LIAM

PUBLIHIIED SEMIJHINTIILY. AT TEN (FEVI‘K I‘LH‘II.
I llnwke e flurry. til Mud Anthony'n Scnntn l2! “Int-l. \lcl..
2 "end 5 lot. 62 The Luekleln Trnppcr. 122 KM lllrtl.
3 The Buy \llnerl. 63 The Flurldn Scout. 128 The Nprvtor l-‘lnh‘rm
-l Blue lilo . (H. The lnlnnd Trapper. 12-1 (Hunt l’vlv.

Nut. “'olfe. 65 \Vult‘l‘mp. ‘ The (Hrl ('llplnln.

The “'hlt-c ’I‘rnoker. 66 llnttllnk lllek. Ynnlmt- .ph.

The flutlau ’n “'lt'c. 67 Rhnrp-Eyo. Sllx "spur.

The Tull TruDDcr. 6H Irun-llnlul Mulnttt-I' lilvlu

nghtnlng Jn. 69 The Yellow Hunter. TM- (‘Ilild hpy.

The Inlnml I'Irntc. ?0 Th1- l’hnntonl Rider. Mil-l. ('unl.

The Buy Hunger. 7| Delaware Toln. “('tl l’lnnuu

new, the Trapper, ”' Min-r lllllc. ’ ( ' . the Trnlll-r.

The From-h "py. The Skeleton Seoul. c lmnl (‘nvlrtu

Long Shot. thtle lilllo. Th1- (‘nnnlhnl ('ka-f‘.

The. Gunmnkcr. The “'nml “'ltrh. Knrnllm.

Red llnml. Old Ilnll‘. the Trnpprr. hourlct .\lt (mm-In.

“on. the Trapper. lrl. h‘hnnldn-p. Kldnnpm-ul.

“'lld anen. r lllllrlnnn. Mnld 0| .lu- \lnnntuln. -

The Specter (‘hloli Outlnw Invk. The Helm-v hm-

Th.I “fur-Klllcr. Tlm-r Ill, Svlnlnnlt‘. Border Rom- (

\Vlld Nut. Death-"older. The Mute ('hirl'.

lmllnn Jo. Kenton, llfl‘ Hunger. Boone. Ihr Ilnntvr.

Old Kent. the Runner. The fipm-tcr llm-u-nun Monntnin Rule.

'l'hctlne-Evcul Trnppcr. ‘ A The 'l hrcc 'l'rumwl'n ’l‘lw Ilwl N-nlrcr.

Godlmltl, t In Spy. " Knlt'olnh. The Lune (‘lxh-t'.

The Blank Shlp. The Hunter “crank-h. The SIlu-r "rule.

Single Eye. I’hll Ilunter. (‘hlnmhthet‘lu-svnne.

lndlnn Jim. The Klldlnn Sonnt. The Tnnglw' 'l'rnll.

The Seout. 'l‘llc Glrl Avcngl-r. The l‘nru-n llnnll.

Ennzlo Eye. The Red llormltrur. The Lone lndinn.

RI The )‘lyntlc (Hume. Star-Flier, the El") (-r. The Brnndml Ih-m‘e.
The Gnlclen llnrpoon. The Antelope llny. BI") lhmlcur.

Th0 Svnlp King. . The Phantom llnntt‘r. The anlr.‘ M'unt.
01d Lutv. Tum l’hltlc. the Pilot. Roll Juvlwt.
Rnlnhult. Hunger. ' The Red “'lznrd. The Jungle M-nut.
The Buy l’lluu'vr. . The llh nl Trnppl-ru. ('h. rul.tt‘ ('lulvll
('urnon. the Gulvle. . The hqnnw Spy. The "an! Hr

‘ The Ilenrt Enter. . "Inky l’ll'k. The Pun-h" m- n
“'ctzel. the Sunni. (‘ulnncl ('rm'lwtlm Thc \\ uml Rangers.
The Huge Hunter. 0 0M Ilvnr I’nw. The lh'd l-‘nr.

“'Illl Nut. the 'l‘rnpper. lh‘lllnn‘. lh-nutli'ul I n‘ no“ In
Lynx-Pup. “'Iltl Rube. (‘nnvle-nlu- \hu-r.
The “'11th outlaw, The lndlnn Hunters. Hunk. llu- (.‘nidlc.
The "0;: Trailer. A .‘onrrwl Engle. 'l‘lu- Bunk-r hman

’ The Elk Klnz. Viol. Doyle. \"lld .\ut.

' .-\1lrlnn, the l’llut. The lndlnn Spy. _\lnhl 0t “joining.

" The “nu-hunter. Jul) "gun. The Thnw ( :wth ml.
The l’lmnlnm Trucker. The “ 001! King. The Lost llr-ntrr.
“twexuln Iilll. The Sculpt-II Ilnnter. "order Ln“ .

The “'oll'ane-n. Nch‘. the Scout. The I‘lt‘twl Trnll.
'I‘mn llnwk. Trailer. The Ten“ Tluor. The 'l'rndt‘l‘ ‘ l'.‘ o
The “all Chief. The (‘rmmt-d Knlvea. -t(‘!'.
The lllnvk ‘Wnll'. Tlgvr-Ilvnrt. The Hm- .
.\I'knnnnn Jack. The M nflkml Avenger. llnwlt-r \ t

‘ liluckbonnl. The l'cnrl l’lrntt-n. Border lhw
The lllver Rlflen. Blnvl. l’nuther. The Son~ M .i Ilu-rty.
Hunter llmn. Abdlel, the Avenger. The l.o~t lh-ulr.

; (‘luntln‘nmL (lulu. the (Trot-per. keelrf‘n. _

59 The Texnn Hawk! ‘ Twn-Iluln’lod Mat. The Innlulu p) .

60 Men-11mm 3191. 31nd Trnll Hunter. The Prairie Neonrxc.

181 Red Lightning. By W. J. Hamilton. Ready May 3181:.

IS? Brave Heart. By James L. Bowen. Ready June 1411).

1 S3 Night-liafi'k Kit. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. leady .me 2‘111‘.

1 8.1 )Illstang‘ Sam. By Joseph E. Badger. Jr. Ready July 12th.

1 $5 Hul'ril‘ane Bill. By JOSeph E. Badger, Jr. Really July L’mh.

l 86 The Red Outltuv. By W. J. Hamilton. anly August ‘Slvh.

187 The Swamp Scout. By W. J. Hamilton. Rezuly Aug-1N 23 i.
188 The Shanvnee’s Foo; By W. J. Hamilton. Ready Sfiptomlm' 0111.
l 89 Mahalka Nat. By W. J. Hamilton. Ready Septemlmr 20th.

190 Old Jupo. By Mrs. Orrin James. Ready October 4th.

191 The Prairie Rifles. By Henry J. Thomas. Ready (Mmhnr 12th.
192 Old Kyle, the Trailer. By Henry J. Thomas. Ready Nov. 1:49.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, I‘nhllnhern. 913 “'lllluyn Street. 30“ York

——lfl_“
MIMI;va
1’33?

..
E

c.
35::

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