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, I THE PRAIRIE QUEEN;

VTOM WESTERN, THE TEXAN RANGER.

BY \V. J. IIAMIL'I‘ON‘
ALT‘I'IIOILOF THE FOLLOWING room-7r wovmm:

13 THE FRENCH SPY. 176 THE Soxs OF LIBERTY.
30 EMILE-EYE. ISO Tum human Noouuula.
10:2 “'ILD RUDE. 181 km) .LIIIII'I'MNH.

110 NICK, "mm SCOUT. IHG TIN“. RIC!) OI'TLAW.

112 Tm; Cnussmp KNIVES. 18’? 'l‘IIIc SWAMP Hanna
1:: KIT 1mm. IHS T111". SHAWNEhS' For}.
It}: UIAN'I‘ i  1M) NOIIAWK NAT.

13$ MAID u .m‘. Mmmmm. 15):: Bh'r Four, THE GUIDE.
1-H ’I‘Im RED SCALPIm. 15H 1‘an man Imomwmoon
165 WILD NAT. :30?) Tm: INDIAN AVENGER.
174 BORDER VENGEANCE. .‘107 THE TWIN Scams.

212 THE SILENT SLAYER.

NEW YORK:
BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS,
98 WILLIAM STREET.

 
thud according to Act of Congress, in the you-1m. .
BEADLE AND COMPANY.
3 tb tales of the Librarian of Come”. It Walk!“

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THE

PRAIRIE QUEEN.

CHAPTER I.
TEE DAUGHTER OF THE RANCHE.

ON the northern branch of the Colorado river, in Texas, a
new settler had built a ranche, and gathered his little family ’
about him. He was a man entirely astranger to the scattered
settlers, coming from whence no one knew, nor was he apt to
be communicative in this respect—a tall, well-shaped person

’ a - of middle age, who had been remarkably handsome, and who

had some remains of his former stately grace upon him.
His eyes retained their olden brightness, and his pale face
wore a shadow which never left it. His family consisted of
a wife, upon whose face the hidden sorrow which bore her
‘husband down was reﬂected, and a daughter whose marvel-
ous beauty became known through all that region. The
men who peopled Texas at this time were not likely to ask
many questions in reference to the antecedents of any man
who might choose to take up his residence among them, so
‘ long as he did not steal horses, the most crying sin in the eyes
of a frontier settler, and most likely to be punished by “ short
shrift and sudden cord.” The man answered to the name of
Arthur Dunham. ,
Mabel Dunham was at this time in the zenith of her beauty,
and was the admired of all the wild young settlers, before
she had been six months in Texas. Young hunters, wander-
ing trappers, and scouts soon found a pretext for stoppin'z
often at the Dunham ranche, ostensibly for reasons connected
with their craft, but in reality to bask in the smiles of the
\settler‘s daughter. She had a stately way of repelling all ea
eept mere friendly advances, which, while it did not make.

’ enemies, served to keep her admirers at a friendly distance

And while all swore by her, and were ready to ﬁght any man.
u ‘ ll

 
,10' . TEE PRAIRIE QUEEN.

or beast in her defense, not one laid claim to any dearer

right. I

“ Tell you what it is, lads,” said Jack Fcnway, an old mem-
ber of McCullough’s Rangers, “ that little gal knows how to
make us keep our distance. Sarves us right too, for what
man among us hez the right even to think of takin’ that
delicate little creature to his ranche? Lord love you, half
on us ain’t got a house to kiver us, and them as has, kin see
the stars shine through the cracks on a clear night. We
mout ez well let the job out, till some one comes along that’s
more to the gal’s mint .”

/ “Seems to me that she needn’t, be so mighty uppish to
them that means well by her,” said a dark-brewed, satumiw
looking young fellow in a red shirt, as he stroked his heavy
mustache. “ Her old father ain’t no great shakes, I reckon."

“See here, Dick Dempsey,” growled Fenway, sending a
frowning glance at the speaker. “ Don’t you ride so rusty be-
,cause the gel wouldn’t have any thing to say to you. She
knowe what she's up to, I judge." . .

Dempsey had no wish to get into a quarrel with Fighting

Jack, a man famed far and wide for feats of personal strength ~

and daring, and he ‘ shut up ’ like the blade of a knife, al-
though his dark eyes glittered under his heavy brows, as the
band of rangers rode on their way. They were out upon an
expedition in search of a man who had stolen some horses
from a. ranehe further down the river, and had been tracked
to this point. Rough-bearded men, smooth-checked boys,
men of every nation, formed the motley group, and not one
among them but would have risked his life in an Indian ﬁght
'with theﬁercest joy. Indeed, some of the most eﬁ'eminate-
looking men among them were the most desperate ﬁghters in
the band. True of heart, ready of hand, bold in the hour of
danger, the Texan ranger is and has been all thatf is requisite
for the make-up of a genuine frontierman. They were all
admirably mounted, for what man need ride a poor horse in
a country where the prairies teemed with countless droves of

wild horses, ﬂeet as the Arabian, and as enduring and tireless, \

and having far greater strength.
They dashed through a grove of mesquit bushes which grew
a barren knoll, and struck a level bottom, dotted here

/

\

   
-trail jest above hyar.

~ know good property when they see it, they do.

TEE means In MOTION. 11

and there with trees which grew in clumps and patches along
the bottom -Iand, while through the center, the river ran slug-
gisth on to the gulf. Passing through one of these clumps,
they came in sight of the ranche of Arthur Dunham, nestling
down by the side of the stream, and already covered with
creeping vines which the hands of Mabel and her mother had
trained up since they had been in Texas. All the surround-
ings gave an air of thrift and comfort to the place, and the
plain was dotted with cattle and horses, for Dunham proposed
to ’go into stock-raising at a heavy rate. The foundation for
a great house had been laid, and further on stood a cluster of
small huts, for the accommodation of the stockmen.

“ This yer Dunham will be a rich man in three years time,"
said Jack, as 'they rode up. “ He is workin’ like a beaver."

As he spoke, the band dashed up to the door of the ranche,
and it opened, and Mr. Dunham came out and greeted them
courteously.

“Glad to see you, square," said Jack. “Fam’ly all well ?"

“ We are doing ﬁnely, now that we have got used to the
climate,” said Mr. Dunham. “ Mabel was unwell for a month
or so when we ﬁrst came, but she is the picture of health
now. What are the Rangers out for ‘2"

“ We are arter a cuss that stole four hosses from Major Fen-
ton, at Cypress Hollow. The cantankerous cuss struck acrost
country from thar and we’ve tracked him so fur, but lost the
You ain’t seen any strangers hyar-
about ?"

“ I have not been here long enough to know who are
strangers and who are not,Jack,” replied Dunham. “ Perhaps
my stockmen may have seen the man you are after. Can you
describe any of the stolen horses ‘2”

“ Yes, one of ’em was a black mare, ﬁfteen hands high, with
a white fore-foot and a blaze on her left shoulder—as purty
a, beast as you ever straddled, square. The other hosses were
the pick of the major’s corrals, for these durned boss-thieves
You don’t

catch none of them stealin’ a poor llOSS. Got sech a thing as

, a drink handy ‘1”

Dunham looked into the house, and called to some one
Within, and a moment after Mabel Dunham appeared upon

\

 
12 ran PRAIRIE QUEEN.

the threshold, carrying a wicker-jug capable of holding about
a gallon, and some goblets, which she gave to her father, rod-
ding pleasantly to trapper Jack, who looked at her in undis-
guised admiration.
“ Texas be blowed," he said. “ Texas kain’t raise no sieh
' gals as that, square. Miss Mabel, you orter be keerful how
you show yourself, for the boys ar’ only human, arter all, and
it’s only a tough old borderman like me that kin stand sich a
‘ -pair of eyes as them."

It,was a rough compliment, but it was heartfelt, and Mabel
knew enough of the character of the Texan to take it as it
was meant, and she smiled in answer to the compliment, while
several of the younger Rangers blushed like girls (and looked
down.

“ That durned old J ack,” whispered one of them in the
rear, to his ﬁle leader. “ He's always got something to say,
he has.”

The jug was passed among the band and all took a huge
drink, while Jack smacked his lips over his cup.

“ Ah—h—hl Real old peach, ain’t it, square?
that thar river overﬂowed with sech licker, I do.”

“ It wouldn’t do," said Dempsey, plucking up courage.
“ The Comanche would come down and hev the country, if it
took the lives of half the tribe. And the Yankee traders
would come and barrel it up so fast that a native couldn’t git
a drink for love or money." "

“’Twouldn’t do fur you to live on the bank of a peach
brandy river,” said Jack, holding out his glass to be reﬁlled.
Yaas, square, I think I will do it ag’in, seein’ it’s you. Hyar,
boys; eyes on me. Here's to the health of Mabel Dunham,
the brightest ﬂower that ever bloomed on the prahary gardins
of this Western clime, and the man that refuses the toast will
git my ﬁst clean through him, that’s all.” ’

Nobody refused it, and after an uproarious cheerlthe band
dashed on, headed by Jack, taking the direction of the stock-
mens’ cabins. Mabel looked after them with an amused
smilef ‘

“ What a strange party, father."

“ Strange, indeed, my daughter,” replied Dunham.

I wish

“ And

yet, rude and rough as he is, .unpolishedin behavior", I would, \

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A A. M.-.VT_,WI . ___, .411“. 2
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A HAUNTING MEMORY. 18 .

sooner trust my life in the hands of Jack Fenway than any
man I, know."

“Jack? I (lots on him, he is such a capital study, and his
admiration of me is so open and undisguised," she said, laugh-
mg.

“ And yet, he gave you good advice, my dear girl... You
are beautiful—too beautiful to be buried in this wild region,
and must look to it that you give no encouragement to any of
these wild young fellows.”

“ I am very careful, father,” she said; “ and as for Texas,
I love it. I was never free before. The bracing air of the
South does me good; I seem to live a new life, and would
not change for the old life if I could do it to-morrow.” ‘

“ That is the right spirit, Mabel. Yes, we will bill good—by
forever to the old scenes, and strive to build up in this country
a new name, which shall cast no discredit upon the name we
once bore. Oh, my Godl that I, of all men, should be the one
to cast reproach upon it.” '

“ Father, father, what do you mean? You cast reproach
upon the old name, you, always so noble, good, and kind.
You have not done it; you never can.”

“There, Mabel, it is over. I forget myself at times, and
say wild, foolish things. But I will forget it. I have forgot-
ten it. Retro Satltanas/ You have no power over my
soul."

- His attitude was lofty as graceful, as he raised his hand, and
Seemed to beat back some accusing spirit which beset him.
Mabel looked at him in utter surprise, and just then the door
opened, and there appeared Mrs. Dunham, who laid her hand
upon her husband’s arm with an imploring gesture.

“ Arthur, remember your promise to me. Mabel, my dear,
you have not taken a ride this morning. Had you not better
get a horse, and leave us for awhile P”

Mabel understood her, and went into the house, from which

'she Soon came out with her hat in her hand, and walked

down to the stock-huts, Where she caught a ragged Mexican-
boy and sent him for her horse. Ten minutes after she was

' dashing away across the prairie at a rapid paCe, forgetting
every thing else in the exhilaration of the moment.

The fresh air, the clear sky, and every thing about he:

TILE PRAIRIE QUEEN.

com binel to make her ride a pleasant one; and she kept on
for over an hour, riding with a free rein, her eyes drinking in
the beauty of the glorious landscape through which she rode.
In that delicious languor which steals over any one in this
climate in the springtime, she forgot time and distance, her
mustang swaying beneath her like a wave, as, with that long
gallop peculiar to his race, he seemed to devour the way.
Suddenly he slackened his speed slightly, and. began to drop
into a walk, in spite of the warning shake of the rein she gave
him, and then stopped at once, planted his fore feet upon the
sward, and refused to budge an inch. as with half-averted head,
erected ears and trembling ﬂank, he uttered a low snort of

' , terror. _

“ G0 on, Selim,” she said, patting him gently on the shoul-
. der. “ Courage ; there is nothing to fear."

But, the magniﬁcent horse would not move, and her eyes
began to wander about her, in the desire to see what it was
which aroused his fears so strongly. She knew that it must
be something more than common, for the mustang had been
the war-steed of a chief, killed in one of the battles with the
Comanche, and was trained to battle. What could it be which
caused him such abject fear?

“_Go on, Selim,” she cried. _

He moved a little, but the moment after stopped again, and
planted his feet as before. She saw now what it was which

‘frightened him, and with a cry of horror, covered her face ‘

with her open palms.

 
C H A P T E R I I .
TIIE CIIAI’I’A'RAL TRAIL.

JUST in front, a single tree had sprung up from the prairie
bottom, and' in one of the freaks 'of nature had divided about
a foot from the ground, forming two distinct trunks. Nearly
ten feet from the earth, a great limb ran out in a horizontal
direction, and from this limb swung at ghastly corpse, the
body of a man who had been hanged but a short time. The
head was on one side, the face was purple, and the protruding
tongue seemed to mock her. Upon the breast was (thugs

   
4%“
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dNA;

mar. 15
placard, upon which was written, With a blood-red stain of -
some kind, by the ﬁnger of a man, these words:
“ HORSE-THIEF.
CAUGHT IN THE ACT.
Hanged March 3d, 18—, by order of
THE RANGERS.“

It was a striking commentary upon these days in Texas, "

when the only law they had was the law of Judge Lynch. _

.They had caught this man with stolen horses in his posses-

sion, formed a hasty court, and meted out justice to him ac-
cording to their creed. It was their only protection, and, as
a general rule, they did not abuse the great trust in their
hands. A fair trial, impartial justice, and a rigid penalty, ‘
was all they had to give. Mabel looked once at the horrible
object, long enough to see that he was a brutal-looking ruﬂian,
and then, drawing rein, she ﬂed as fast as the mustang could
go, in her haste taking no notice of the direction. She rode
hard for an hour, and began to look for her father‘s cabin,
when she became aware that she was in a section of country
which she had never before visited. The ground was more
broken, and the way more diﬁicult, and the growths of mes-
quit bushes and cactus-like plants showed that she had left
the bottom-land and reached the ridges, out of the way of her
father's house. She pushed on blindly, in great fear lest she
should be lost, looking anxiously from side to side for some-
thing Whioh might guide her to her home. But, she looked
in vain, and as she proceeded, the. way became more difficult
and the chapparal more thick. She pulled up and looked
about her. The river was nowhere in sight, and on every side
arose the low chapparal, the cactus, and all the signs of the
vegetable life of the sterile ridges. She knew that these ridges

were many miles from her father‘s house, although she had

never visited them before, and in her aimless wanderings over
the prairie, she had gone further than she had thought. There
was nothing for her to do but to turn back and endeavor to
retrace her steps by following her own trail.

With this object in view she wheeled and rode slowly back,
pausing now and then to satisfy herself that she was on the
right track. But her course was necessarily slow, and she
began to fear that she was destined to pass a night upon the

o

 
16 Tim mum QUEEN.

prairie. Passing a thick growth of mesquit bushes, she had
paused again in uncertainty, for the earth was hard at this
point, and scarcely left a trace, when, with a yell of delight,
a painted Comanche leaped out from the thicket, and before
she could move, grasped her horse by the bridle.

Mabel was no coward ; but at the sight of that huge and
homely painted ﬁgure, her heart stood still, for she saw before
her a vision of a captivity among the Comanches, a terrible
fate to one who had heard repeated the frontier tales of the
horrors of that captivity. The man before her was one of
the most gigantic of his race, a perfect forest Hercules. In
hight he was considerably above six feet, with shoulders and
arms which bespoke the possession of enormous strength.
His dress was of the most gaudy worn by the Comanches, a
buck-skin shirt, profusely ornamented with silver lace and
bullion, and left open on the breast, displaying muscles of
which a gladiator might have been proud. A huge silver
brooch, carved with strange characters and totems, was sus-
pended about his neck by a chain of the same metal; his leg-
gins were fringed with the hair taken from the scalps of the

enemies he had killed in battle, and about his neck, below’ I

the brooch, hung a necklace of grizzly’s claws, which none
among the Indians can wear unless he has killed the ﬁerce
beast with his own hand. Hie right hand grasped a spear of
great length, while his bow and quiver were suspended at his
I back. I
Upon his head he wore a sort of skull-cap, in which waved
three heron-plumes, the insignia of a chief. As to his paint,
it was simply b'd'rlble, and gave him a wild and sinister ex-
pression. His Keen black eyes were fastened upon the maiden,
with a look which she could not understand, as with his left
hand restraining the plunging horse, and a ﬁerce smile upon
his dark face, he stood before her.
What was this Comanche doing so far from the home of
' his tribe, alone upor‘ the ridges, and on foot? If Mabel had
known the charac’u of the great tribe he represented, she
would hardly have asked the question. No tribe upon the
-American plains are more lawless or fearless of danger than
the Comanche. Bold riders, brave as lions, ’achnirably disci-
plined, they had “ovar- known what defeat was until they had

I ,

 
»

 
A mn‘ox run BRI'DLE. 17

met the Texan Rangers and for the ﬁrst time knew what it
was to contend with foemen worthy of their steel. The Mex-
icans they held in utter contempt, and a band of this tribe
.have been known to dash down upon an exposed Mexican
city, pick up great quantities of plunder, strip the country of
horses and cattle, and ride away at their leisure, with a. com-
pany of prisoners in their train. They tried the same game
upon the Texans, and how they succeeded, let Texan history
show. Their ﬁrst raids gave birth to the Texan Bangers,
men who were as fearless as they and far better armed, and
their ﬁghts were terrible ones indeed. -

“ Release the bridle,” cried Mabel, boldly, striking the In-
dian with her riding whip. ‘

The chief shook his head with a grim smile, and retained
his hold upon the bridle, when the brave girl brought the lash
down upon the horse’s ﬂank. Smarting under the blow, he
gave a mighty spring, and the Comanche staggered, but, brac-
ing himself to the eﬂ‘ort, he forced the strong horse resolutely
backward until he almost rested upon his haunches, and held
him as in a vice. The mustang felt the hand of a master,
and Mabel knew that he was conquered, but, she would not I
give up the struggle yet. Her hand dropped into the pocket
in her saddle, and when she took it out, she held a bright-
barreled pistol, which she essayed to unlock, but the Comanche
was too quick for her. Dropping his spear, his strong right
hand shot out and wrenched the weapon from her grasp,
and the next moment she was lifted from the saddle, and
deposited upon the earth, as easily as if she had not weighed
ten pounds. But, no sooner did her feet touch the earth than
she ran, plunging into the thick growth of chapparal, careless
of the long thorns which lacerated her ﬂesh.

Her only thought was to escape, at any and every hazard,
from the grasp of the .Comanche. Only one thing saved her
for a moment, and that was the dislike of a savage to lose so
ﬁne a horse as the one she had ridden, and he stopped long

'enough to plunge his spear deep into the earth, throw‘ we

end of the lariat coiled upon the saddle about it and .nsten
it ﬁrmly before he started in pursuit. By this tin-c Mabel
had gained some ﬁfty yards into the chapparal where she
found a number of narrow paths, running in various dine-

 
THE PRAIRIE QUEEN.
tions. Into one of these she plunged in desperate haste, car-
ing nothing for the course it took, as long as it was away
from the Comanche, who was now crashing through the
bushes behind. There was something in her favor, although
she did not know it, and if her strength endured, there was
some little-chance oi escape. The Comanche, living as he did
almost entirely in the saddle, is a poor footman, and’liis wind
is not good in a long run. In this he diﬁ'ers materially from
the Eastern Indians, who, living in a region where horses
were unknown, were accustomed to make long journeys on
foot. Had it been a Sioux or a Delaware, the probability is
that she would have been overtaken in the ﬁrst ﬁve hundred
yards, even buoyed up by desperation as she was.

She ran on, looking neither to the right hand or the left,
plunging deeper and deeper into the thicket, until the sound
of pursuing feet died away in the distance. She paused and
listened intently. Yes, it was indeed true; she had escaped
from the hands of her merciless enemy, and he had doubtless
given up the pursuit. Utterly exhausted, she sunk breathless
on the ground in a state of complete exhaustion, panting for

-breath. Hearing the trickling of a tiny stream, she raised
her head to look for it, and saw its silver thread winding
away through the chapparal afew yards distant. She dragged '
herself to the bank, and lying down, took L copious draught,
and felt herself refreshed and sat up.

“Escaped,” she murmured, “ but, where an r.‘ Lost in ,
the chapparal ; escaped from one danger only to fall into an-
other.” .

She rose and looked aboutvhcr Not a sound was heard
save the murmur ‘ of the breeze through the bushes, and the

r trickling of the little stream at her feet. Alone in the bound-
less chapparal, without a guide, and night coming on 1 Even

~ if she should make her way out, perhaps she might again fall
into the clutches of the giant Comanche, who had so frightened
her before, and She decided, at all hazards, to remain where
she was, at least for a time.

She sat down upon a mossy knoll and waited nearly anI
hour. Then she rose and looked at the sun; which she could
distinguish through the opening in the bushes above her
head. Knowing that it-was now nearly ﬁve o’clock, she was ‘

 
ﬂ

 
WANDERINe—wm'rnnn ? ' 1!)

enabled to get the points of the compassrand she remembered

that she had been traveling nearly west when she was sur-
prised by the Comanche. She would go on her way, guided
by the sun. .

She drank once more at the stream and began her course.
It became more rough and difﬁcult as she proceeded, and af-
ter an hour‘s travel she paused and looked about her in. de-
spair. It was plain that she was going deeper and deeper
into the chapparal, and she had heard the scouts tell strange
tales of the sufferings of those lost in that wild region.

Was she doomed to suffer as they, and die in this wild sol- .

itude, and lie there unburied, her friends having no know.-
ledge of her fate? . ' ’

The thought was madness, and she made a new effort, but
only to ﬁnd herself in greater difﬁculties She stopped be-
side a pbol and drank some water, which relieved her some
what, and then sunk upon her knees and prayed to the God
she had worshiped through life to support and direct her un-
der this afﬂiction. When she ruse from her knees the sun
had gone down, and she had only the red glare in the west
to guide her, and she gave up the attempt to get out of the
chapparal that night. Collecting some dry leaves and, moss,

’ she made herself a bed beneath the trees, and lay down, and,

utterly worn out, slept peacefully in_ the midst of solitude.
Dangers of which she had no knowledge passed her by. A
poisonous snake crossed the moss within a foot of her and
glided on into the darkness. A tarantula, black. and venoui-
ous, lumbered over the leaves a few feet away, and a jaguar,
went through the ehapparal, twenty yards distant, looking
out for'prey, and this innocent girl slept on, her cheek pil~

lowed on her rounded arm. God surely watches over the in- »

accent in their hour of danger, and so he watched over Mabel
Dunham.

The sun rose; and she awoke refreshed, but hungry, and
;here was nothing which she dared to eat. Searching her
Dockets she found a few crumbs of cake, which she ate slowly
thinking thém the sweetest morsels she had ever tested. A
genuine border woman would have found food in plenty in
.ten minutes, but Mabel had that Eastern dread of poisonous

‘ “0pm page and sum. and would tenchnothing. new

\
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\

I

 
N m PRAIRIE. QUEEN.

, eaten all the crumbs, she drank at the spring, and rose to
begin again her perilous search, with but little hope of suc-
cess. In running from the Indian she had taken such de-
vious paths that to retrace her steps was impossible, and she
was about to guide herself by the sun again,when she uttered
a low cry of joy, as her eyes fell upon a mark upon the
earth, apparently quite fresh. It was the trail of a horse, and,
close beside it, the track of a boot deeply imprinted in the soft
earth.

She looked at it eagerly and satisﬁed herself that it was
not more than a day old. It was not an Indian who had rid-
den the horse, for she was aware that they always wore moc-
casins. It might be a Mexican, but even if it were, and she
should meet him, he would guide her out of the jungle, and
her only hope was to follow this trail wherever it might
lead.

She started forward at once, following the chapparal path
through which the trail led. ' It was quite plain, so plain that
a child might have followed it, and she hurried eagerly on.
After a half-hour’s walk she noticed that other trails led into
this one, all of mounted men, until she was traversing a path
beaten by many horses’ feet. What could it mean? What
men were these who congregated in the chapparal, coming
from all points of the compass ?

Something lay in the road at her feet. She picked it up
and found that it was a haversack. Fainting from the lack
of food she opened it eagerly, and to her great joy found
some cold venison and corn-bread, and giving up the trail for
the present she sat down and ate. Finishing her repast, she
put the rest of the food into the haversack, and throwing the
strap over her shoulder, again began her march, over the trail.
For three long hours she kept on her course. almost giving up
hope as she saw that the chapparal was dark and dense upon
each side, when she was startled by a well-known sound.

It was the distant neighing of a horse. and she knew that
she was approaching some camp.

Whose camp was it? What were they doing here?

If she had been less desperate she might have hesitated '

about enteringa place of this kind. But, she knew that it
‘ was only a choice of two dangers—to reveal herself or perish

l

 
61

ﬂ

-Hunmwﬂ'

   
reruns on roast .21.
of starvation, for to ﬁnd her way out of the chapparal now
was siniply impossible.

The sounds of life grew louder as she proceeded, and she
could even distinguish the laughter of men and women, and
she became more at ease. No true woman would stand by
and see her wronged, not even a Mexican woman. She was
about to hasten on, when she heard the sudden beat of horses‘
feet, and paused to see who were coming up, when two horse-
men came suddenly into view, who uttered simultaneous cries
of surprise and anger as they saw her.

“ Who is' that?” cried one, harshly. “ Sieze her, Coradi ;
we will have no interlopers here.”

 
CHAPTER III.
THE SECRET mum.

TEE men rode up hastily, and as they came, pulled down
a sort of visor concealed beneath their sombreros, which com-
pletely hid their faces. They were both dressed in green
hunting-suits of the same cut and make, and Mabel looked at
them in surprise.

“ A woman here 1” cried one of the men who had spoken
ﬁrst. “ Let me hear you speak. What the—what do you
want here i"

“ I beg your pardon, gentlemen,” said Mabel: “ I did not
willingly intrude upon you, but I was forced to do it.”

“ Explain, and at once. By Jove, Coradi," he muttered in
an undertone, “ there is not another such a beauty in
Texas i"

“ You are right, camaradc mio,” replied the other. “ She
is a beauty without doubt. But let us hear her story, for
after what has happened it will be difﬁcult to dispose of her."

“ Lady,” said the ﬁrst speaker, “ tell me what you are doing
here." ‘

Mabel complied and told the whole story, of her ride, her
meeting with the Comanche and escape from him into the
chapparal, while the two listened intently.

“ Your story is a strange one, lady, but I do, not doubt its

  
TEE PRAIRIE QUEEN.

truth. I No one would willingly come into this section.
May I ask your name ‘2”

“ Mabel Dunham. My father lives upon the Colorado, bu
where I am I do not know.”

“ Dunham i” said the other, with a start of surprise, looking
at her intently. “ Did you say Dunham .9”

“ Yes; Why do you ask the question ?”

“Because the name is familiar to me. I was once quite
intimate with a man of that name in—Arkansas. What the
deuce are we to do with her, Coradi? It won’t do to take her
into camp,” he added, sotto coca.

7‘ I’ll go in and give the oﬂice to the rest. You keep her
in conversation until you hear the bugle," Corudi answered,
in the same tone.

He rode hastily away, leaving Mabel alone with his com-
rade. She looked at him with some fear, for she did not
like his ways. Why did he conceal his face, and show such
visible signs of surprise when she mentioned the name of

,Dunham? Why had his companion ridden in advance, and
left them together ‘3" _

“From the sounds which we hear, you well see that there
is a. camp in front, and my comrade has gone'on to see what
can be done for you. We will wait here until he gives us a
signal. Miss Dunham, I am about to trust you with a secret,
which I am sure you will respect. If I promise to guide you
safely out of this, will you agree on your part to keep silent
in regard to What you see in this place?”

“ Certainly ; what reason have I to tell it '8”

“ But, I must have your premise." ’ .

“You have it then. I give you my word not to tell any
thing I may see, to any one whatever. Does that satisfy you ?"

“It does," replied the man, allowing his eyes to dwell upon
the beautiful face of the girl, with a ﬁxed, ardent glance,
under which her eyes sunk. At this moment a bugle was
blown faintly, and he sprung from the saddle.

“ Take my place, I beg you,” he said.

‘ you are worn out."
It required little persuasion to induce her to take his place

“ You must, for

in the saddle, for she was completely exhausted, and he led v .

the horse gently forward. '

y
t

    
p

 
, your wants for the night.

AZTEC ARCHITECTURE. 28

y “I have not told you the secret I proposed, as yet," he

said, kindly, “ but you shall hear it to-night.”

I must return home, this very day.”

“ Satisfy yourself. You are too weary to undertake a ride
of thirty miles after the fatigues you have undergone. I will
send any letter you may choose to write to your father, by a
swift rider, who will reach the ranche long before you could,
and you may say that you are among friends, and will return ,
to-morrow.” .-

“I accept your offer, sir, for I think it k‘mdly meant upon

your part."

,“ Then I will introduce you to a lady who will attend to y.
In the morning, I myself will
show you the way to the cabin of your father.”

They emerged from the bridle-path and found themselves
In front of one of those strange old buildings which the en-
terprise of American explorers are bringing to light every
year, one of the wonderful temples of the Aztecs as it stood
when tnat strange people traversed the land from the North,
seeking a place where they might rest, led by the guardian
eagle of their tribe. It is a beautiful legend which says that
the bird ﬂew above them and led them on through their va-
ried journeyings, and when they reached the valley of Mexico,
perched upon their banner and died. In their journeyings
from the North, they stopped at various points, and Western
Texas is peculiarly rich in the ancient ruins of the works their
hands built up. Centuries have passed, their bones have crum-
bled, their weapons are dust, but these old buildings remain to
show that men of the olden times were further advanced in

'the art of solid and beautiful architecture than the men of

“ To—night !

‘ |the present.

The building was in the form of a rectangle, and the walls.
had been put together with a nieety unknoan in our (lay,
and with a cement the secret of which is lost. The roof
was gone, the doors had crumbled, and the accumulating vege-
table deposits had been heaped about the walls until only a
small portion remained. Doubtless many such ruins remain
undiscovered in the dense chapparals of the South, which
succeeding years will bring to light, to give further evidence

of the wonderful artistic skill of the people who have no , v

 
84 ran rmmm queen.

longer a name and race. Mabel stood in mute wonder, re-
garding the ruined temple, and her companion Studied her
face.

“ You are surprised, Miss Dunham," he said. “ I myself
discovered this place, and I would not barter my knowledge
of it' for a kingdom. I have discovered here the Aztec’s sa-
cred secret, and the key to their peculiar language, and in
.time I will make my discovery known to the World. This is
the secret which I would hide, and which you have promised
never to reveal to a living creature.”

“I have given my word of honor and I will keep it,” said
ﬂabel.

“ That is sufﬁcient. Let me assist you to alight."

He helped her lightly out of the saddle, and drawing the
picket pin from the saddle, drove it into the earth and fast-
ened the horse. Then, taking her by the hand, he led her
into the rectangular space through the lofty-arched doorway,
and she stood in a space nearly two hundred feet across, in
which, to her surprise, she found several men lounging about,
every one of whom had the sort of uniform which was worn
by the man who led her, and wore avisor like his. They
cast curious glances at the new-comer but said nothing.
Against the inner wall of the rectangle a number of huts had
been built, and toward one of these the man who appeared to
be the leader advanced and tapped at the door. It was
opened quickly and a woman looked out.

“ Good-day, Zillah,” said the leader.
well ?”

“ I am well, Brinsley,” she said.
safe back ; but who is this lady ‘3”

“She will tell you, doubtless, since I wish you to take her
in charge. and attend to‘her wants. Make her welcome, for

,she has sulfered much in the last twenty-four hours.”

The woman extended her hand kindly to Mabel and led
her into the hut, and the man called Brinsley followed her.
Once inside, Mabel had leisure to look at her companion, and
was startled at her wonderful beauty. She might have been
'wenty years of age, but not more.
dark, passionate brunette type of- the South, and Mabel de-
cided at once that she had Mexican blood in her reins. Her

“I hope you are

“I am glad to see you

Her face was of the ‘

  
a

 
E‘

E“

_-A~4me_zttrl

 
_:____-. _

    
, caped from a Comanche Indian.

zmnan. 26
head was uncovered, and her glorious wealth of dark hair\
ﬂoated to her waist, unconﬁned, and of wonderful abundance.
Her ﬁgure was slight but symmetrical, and showed to advan-
tage in the costume of a Mexican woman. A kirtle of red
cloth was covered partly by an overskirt of green stuff con-
ﬁned at the waist by a belt with a golden clasp, in which she
wore a dagger with a silver hilt. Over the skirt was a red
bodice, slashed and embroidered with gold lace, and her feet
were covered by moccasins of dainty make. The face was
oval, with deep black eyes, full of hidden ﬁre, and Mabel
stood looking at her in surprise.

“ You at me to be kind to this lady, Brinsley,” she said,

\ softly,“ and I will do it.”

“ A word with you ﬁrst. Zillah. Miss Dunham will excuse
us for a moment, I am sure.”

They went out of the cabin, and moved far enough from
the door so that Mabel could not hear them had she chosen
to listen.

“You are a study to me, Brinsley Nelson,” said the wo-
man called Zillah. “ I want an explanation of this, and at
once. Why have you brought this girl here ‘2”

“ Don’t get into one of your ‘tantrums,’ my dear,” said the
man, lightly. “ I assure you that it is all an accident and
could not. be avoided without inhumanity.”

“ Inhumanityl I like that from your lips, Brinsley."

He began to be angry, and made a ﬁerce gesture with his
right hand. V

“ You are too captions, by far, Zillah. When I have ex-
plained this matter to you I am sure you will say that I could
have done nothing less than that which I have. We found
this lady wandering in the chapparal, to which she had es-
She had lost her way and
by some unlucky accident struck the main track by which
we have been accustomed to enter the Retreat, and we found
her and brought her in.”

“ Is this the truth ‘3"

“Ask Corndi; he was with me when I found her.”

“ My brother will not deceive me, and you would not have
referred to him if you, had not told the truth. Forgive me,
Brinsley, for there are times when my love for you is apt to

 
THE PRAIRIE QUEEN.

lead me astray.
ture."

“There there, Zillah ; compose yourself. You thought
this unfortunate child a rival, then? She is beautiful, but
an infant compared to you, my queen of the plains. Besides,
she goes home tomorrow and probably we shall never see
her again ; certainly not with my consent."

“Thank you, Brinsley. I was mad to doubt you.
I see you again before you leave the Retreat?”

“ I am not going out to-day at all, for I have promised to

' wait until morning, and show this lady the road home. Be-
sides, the Rangers are out again, and I' have my own reasons
for not fallingr in their way at present. Be careful not to
give her any hint as to who we are.” ,

' She left him and returned to the cabin, and Nelson walked
out of the rectangle, and threw himself down upon the green
grass outside, where he lay in deep thought, his head resting
upon his hand.

“ Dunham,” he muttered. " As I live for vengeance I
never hoped to meet him here. He, the man who drove me
out from society—made me a Pariah and outcast, and forced
me into this wild life, has been thrown against me once more
in the changing currents of life! Shall I seize the chance
or not, that is the question? I have it in my power to raise

I love you, and you know my jealous na-

Shall

a. storm about his cars which could only end in his annihilap'

tion. Shall I do it?"

    
lik

so

A step on the greensward made him look up, and he saw ’ 1

the man who had come in with him.

“ Ah, Coradi,” he said. “Have you attended to every thing

, needful ?"

“ All is right,” replied the man. “ She will suspect nothing.”

“ You cautioned them to keep quiet; I would not have he?
see any more than those present.”

“ They understand it, and I doubt if they could \make noise
enough to come to her ears. Have you left her with Zillah ?”

“‘ Yes ; she was inclined to be jealous at ﬁrst, suspecting a:‘

rival in her, but I quieted her fears easily.”

“ My sister is a good girl, Brinsley Nelson, although she has
the hot blood of her race in her veins. Beware that you deal
justly by her, or it may make trouble.” x

    
l8-

tut 3

es,
Lee 7

'.""WH°H aqua.

‘ I’

YANTIC.

“Tush; you areas hotblooded as your sister, my friend.
Have I ever shown a desire to break faith with her ?"

“ No; but you looked at this girl to-day in a way I did not
like.” -

“ Do you admire a beautiful piece of statuary when you
see it, Coradi? This girl is beautiful, but she is nothing to
me except that her father is a man I hate.”

“Ah: Where did you know him ‘1’”

“ No matter; but for him I should be a useful member of
society, adorning the sphere in which I moved. Coradi, I will
so torture the heart of that man that he shall pray for death
and regard itas a mercy when it comes. May the drink I
shall raise to his lips give him happiness, that is all i Pshaw;
why waste words upon a theme personal only to myself and
him. Has Varda come in i"

it No.”

f‘ The scoundrel has got into some trouble. That penchant
which he has for the property of other people, especially in
horse-ﬂesh, will one day bring him to grief. I hope he has
not met Jack Fenway and the Rangers, for if he has, doubt-
less he is swaying in the wind by the end of a lariat. Where
is Watson ?"

“Gone to Brazos.”

“ Chamberlain ‘3”

“At Austin, looking after our interests. Our agent there,
Manuel Ensebio, is getting weak in the knees and requires a.
little prompting, I believe.“ .

“ All this is well. If we can keep these dogs of Rangers
away from us for a while we shall be ready to retire upon
the proﬁts of the business. Confound this Dunham; 'how he
umsin my head. I wish you would send Yantie to me.”

Coradi strode away, and ﬁve minutes after alight, active
form, scarcely three feet high, came whirling out of the arch
'of the temple, turning innumerable sun1mersets,and ending
by walking on his hands up to the feet of Nelson, who caught
him by the heels and pulled him down. But he hounded up

again, apparently without touching the earth, and uttered
and eldritch scream of laughter, when Nelson gave him a
cut? which sent him rolling over and over upon the earth,
when he again rose upon his hands, wheeling and turning

)

 
18

THE PBAM QUEEN.

in fantastic circles, all the time uttering piercing yells of laugh-
ter, while his master regarded him with a grim smile.

“Here, you young devil, bring your feet down and listen
to me, or I will cut your ears off close to your head."

“ Yes, master, yes,” screamed the creature, springing lightly
to his feet by the muscular effort of his powerful arms. “ Here
I be."

A strange creature indeed; black as ebony, a. connecting
link in appearance at least between an ape and a man ; a
bulky body set upon short, stout legs, with a head of more

than masculine size, and arms so long, that as he walked, the H

' extended ﬁngers touched his ankles. His face was very dark,
‘50vered with a short, bristling beard, and his black hair was

ough and shaggy, tossing in wild confusion upon his shoul-

ders. The eyes were set deeply in his head, so deeply indeed
that they were scarcely distinguishable behind his bristling
eyebrows. His dress was as fantastic as his body, being a
red shirt belted at the waist, heavy horseman’s boots, a huge
sombrero, with an eagle-feather stuck in the band, and a pair
of leather riding-breeehes. This strange creature danced wildly
to and fro before his master, restless as the sea, his small
twinkling orbs roving about him continually.

“ Keep still, you rascal; keep still. Are you awake, Yan-
tic; is your brain clear ?”

“ Clear as a bell, master.”

“ Do you know a settler by the Colorado, one Arthur Dun-
ham by name ?”

“ Know him? yes.
master ?”

“Never mind that; you can ﬁnd the place easily t"

“ Find it? ﬁnd any place in Texas. Hal hal ha!
tic knows them all, and they know Yantic."

“Very good. You saw the lady who came in with me to
day l" "

“ Yes; going to send Zillah away. master ?”

“ Pshaw; who set you to talking, you black imp. I want
you to carry a letter to Arthur Dunham from this lady. All
you have to do is to ride up, deliver the letter, and be off again
at fut". soeed. Take care they don’t catch you.” . ‘

“ Catch me ’ catch Yantic on his white horse, Roar-er!

What you do with Arthur Dunham,

Yan-

Ha

   
ha
ain

10c

‘uuﬁeﬁ

 
‘hal hal hoo! hool hoo!

‘. back. You know it, master i”

 
TEE ABSENT ONE.

‘ You know there
. ain’t a horse in Texas that kin catch Roarer, with me on his

That’s good i

“ I am not afraid that they will catch you, but you must

i look out for Fighting Jack, if he is there.”

“ I’ll do it. Hool Show me this letter; give me this ‘let-
ter, quick.” 1

Nelson told him to remain where he was while he went for
the letter. He obeyed, and during the absence of his master,
relieved his mind by walking on his hands, standing on his
head and turning innumerable summersets and cart-wheels.

5, Half an hour after he was riding away from the retreat,

mounted on a long-limbed white horse, yelling as he went,
like a veritable ﬁend.

 
C H A P T E R I V .
‘ ONE AGAINST sum.
11‘ might Well be supposed that there was terrible dread in

l the home of Mabel, as the day wore on and she did not re-

turn. Toward evening Jack Fenway came back with his
party, bringing with them three of the stolen horses, but the
mare with the blaze on her shoulder was not among them.
There was a certain ﬁxed, intent look upon the faces of
the band which was awful, and told, as nothing else would,
that they had been in the presence of death.

“ You have not seen Mabel, boys ?” said Dunham, as they
rode up.”

“ Seen her? no. Ain’t she hyar ?"

“ She rode out soon after you did, and has not yet re
turned."

Jack Fenway leaped upright in his saddle with a cry of
surprise. ‘“ You ain’t sent her out on the prahary to-day,

' . square? don't say you have.”

“ What do you mean ?" ,
“ I mean that the Comanches are on the trail, and in a week

" thar will be scalping and ﬁghting all along the border.

“ Did you see them P” said Dunhamﬁn an awestruck voice.
\; “ Bee 'em? no. I kain’t say I see ‘em, but I see the’r ion.
, ,

 
30 THE PRAIRIE QUEEN.

and that's enuﬂ’ fur me—a band of nigh a hundred. mounted

wo
warriors of course, making a straight trail acrost kentry in the ‘
d‘rection of the Big Chapparal.” tin.

“ Where is the Big Chapparal ?” Sig

Jack silently pointed toward the north-east.
“ Thank God i Mabel did not go in that direction." Jd
“ Which way, then ?”

“ She took about the same course that you did.” ca
“ Hi, Ned Buttrick, come this way,” cried Jack. i bx.
One of the Rangers rode out, a small-framed but wiry 1 m
athlete, with a keen, knowing eye. a

“ You seen sign under the trees whar we parted with the h,
hoss-thicf, you sed. Wmhl you kalkelate it was a man or a
woman ‘3"

“ Think it were a woman. Whoever it war, the boss bolted ' 1;
when he see whatgou know, and went off at a gallop toward 4 {I
the ridges." '

“ Ha! think he was running away ‘3” ‘ t

“ lie was going in jumps, and I don’t deceive you. I picked l t
upthis yer jest whar he bolted.” _ i . 1

He put his hand into a pocket of his hunting-shirt, and l 1
brought out a large blue button, such as is used inxtrimming a i
riding-habit. Mrs. Dunham snatched it from his hand, and i
looked at it closely.

“ This is from my darling’s habit. Oh, husband. her horse .1
has run away with her, and perhaps she lies helpless on the i
prairie, a prey to the terrible wolves 1- Father in Heaven, can
I bear this ‘3” Y

“ Thar, thar, old lady. cheer up," said Jack, kindly. “ Don’t
take 011 the! ar’ way; don’t l You rile up my feelings poWer‘ c
ful whenlyou do it. Thar ain't a man in this party——-and if 
thar should be sech a slink, I want to hear from the mean
skunk immediate—who won’t resk his ha’r to ﬁnd pretty,

/ Mabel and bring her back safe to you. Speak out, you tellers."

“ Lead us, lead us i” cried the Rangers. “ We don’t back ‘
down on that, Fighting Jack." 

“ That‘s right ; that’s human. Now you go back into the -

- house, Miss Dunham, and you keep cool. Trust to old Jack,
. fur he is a. prahary chicken, he is! I’ll ﬁnd her ef so be she
' in to be found.” I

,mxmo THE TRAIL. 81

. “ 1 must go with you,” cried Dunham. “ Do you think I
mt“ would stay here, and Mabel in danger ‘3” \ ‘
u the “ Git yer hoss then, mighty sudden. We ain’t got no ‘

time to waste, fur we've got to ride lo the big tree to ﬁnd the
sign.” ‘
Dunhmn darted into the house for his riﬂe and pistols, and
Jack shouted to a stockuian to bring the horse, and by the
time the father appeared, fully armed, at the door, the Mexi~
can had brought the horse, and stood holding him by the
, 1 bridle. They dashed away at a. rattling pace, although, the
my ,5 horses were very tired, and a two hours’ hard riding brought
‘ them to the tree where the hideous corpse of the man who
the had frightened Mabcl’s horse still swung in the passing breeze. ,
'1' a “ Who is that ‘r” cried Dunham, with,a horriﬁed look. ~ \ i
, “ That‘s a hOss-thief, boss,” replied Jack, coolly. “ I calcu-
ted ‘ late he won’t steal no more hosses. Now don’t waste any
"a i feeling on him, square, fur the bloody villain deserved hang-
ing years ago. Why, man, that’s Barney, the Butcher, though
‘ 1 that ain’t his real name. He was a 'Mexican, called Varda,
ed ’ the meanest critter that ever went on two legs.- Why, he’s
i killed more men than he‘s got ﬁngers and toes, and he won’t

ad  kill no more; he ain’t on it. Hunt for sign, boys.”
1;  The Rangers scattered about the plain, and were not long

in ﬁnding the trail of Selim, for the hoofmarks were deeply
imprinted upon the soft soil. They rode on at a slow trot,

’ “ ‘Tis so, by gracious i” said Jack, leaping out of the sod-
‘ dle and looking closely at the earth. “ A Comanche, and a
l big ’un at that, and on foot. What does the red thief mean
by that ?" '
/ “I can see nothing,” said Dunham, in a surprised tone.
“ You don’t know Injin sign, you don’t, square,” said Jack.
“ Never you mind; it’s here, as plain as day, jest as I ' said it

l

ie  Jim Buttrick in advance, with his eyes upon the trail. After

'8 i half an hour’s ride he paused and held up his hand, and the

n  band were quickly grouped about him. , -

, l “ What now, Jim 1’" said Jack.

Vt J. “ Indian sign; footman; fresh," said Jim, in his sententious

f'  manner. .
The Rangers looked at the spot pointed out, and all seemed

: to read the earth like an open book.

 
TEE PRAIRIE QUEEN.

were, and tells me that a big Injin of the Comanche nation i
passed here on foot half an hour before the hoss did, making 1
for the chapparal. Mount, boys, and follow sign.” l
Those who had left their saddles bounded up again, and
again they followed the trail. Dunhnm was in despair, but

he had unbounded faith in the prairie craft of Fighting Jack, ~

and left all to him. Before long night came on, and it ‘was

impossible to follow the trail longer, so, in spite of the pro- ‘

testations of Dunham, they dismounted, tethered their horses,
and made a hasty meal upon such cold meat and bread as
they had in their saddle-bags, and then, after posting guards
upon the different rolls of the prairie about them, lay down
upon the short grass for a rest.

“Why must we stop, Jack ‘9” pleaded Dunham.
press on and save my daughter.” .

“ Look yer, square, what’s the use of tearing happy-go-
lucky over the prahary in the dark? We kain‘t see the sign,
so it’s no use to talk.”

“I suppose you are right,” groaned the unhappy father.
“ but think of the agony her poor mother endures at the
thought of her great danger."

“ Look yer, square, I do think of that. I’m thinking of
it all the time, and yit I don’t see no way to help it. Hev
patience, and when we kin see the trail we will foller ag’in.”

“ I will try to be patient.” r

“ Here, take my blanket and lay down. I don’t want no
blanket myself, bless you. It’s a mighty useless thing to me,
but I carry it ’cause all the boys do. Try and git a little
rest, while I ride out and take a look at the guards.”

“ Let me go with you. It will serve to pass away the
time.” ‘

“ Yes, if you won’t keep humming away at me to do what
" kain’t do, and that is, fuller a blind trail by night.”

“ I agree to that.” ‘

They rode out together and visited each of the guards, who
eported all right. Each man was sitting on his horse be-
hind the ridge, just far enough elevated above the crest of
the ridge to have a. command of the prairie which he wasset
to watch. The moon rose, clear and bright in the blue sky,

and they sat silent looking across the great plain, too 'much

“ Let us

/

    
[DOV
ﬁrm
(1

lng
‘ he:
the
ter
for

 
A new man. as \
moved by the solemn scene to break the silence, for some
time.

“Now do you wonder that I love the prairie ?” said Fight-
ing Jack, making a sweeping gesture with , his strong right
hand. “ Thar it lays, with the moonlight shining on the grass,
the level plain of Texas. The Great Master never give a bet-

, ter kentry to man to live in, and I’m ashamed that our love

for ﬁghting and bloodshed sometimes turns it to a hell. But
whar the painted reptiles and the hoes-thieves be, that is
diviltry. Hal look thar. and keep silent for your lives.”
About half a mile away a spur of the ridge came down tq
meet the prairie, and from behind this a horseman at full gal-
lop bounded suddenly into the light, while behind him rose
a series of demoniac cries, such as Dunham had never heard
before, and one shadowy horseman after another shot out
from behind the ridge until tLey saw seven men in pursuit of
one. Even at that distance the eagle eye of Jack Fenway
saw that the foremost rider was a white man, and his pur-

> luers Indians, with their long lanees pressed against their

thighs. The foremost man was a bold rider, and now and
then they saw him look over his shoulder at his pursuers,
evidently calculating his distance. The Indians were strung
out upon the plain behind him, according to the power of

their horses. but the ﬁrst was so close upon his haunches that

scarcely two spear-lengths intervened.

“ He’ll git his ha’r raised," muttered Jack. “ Lord, I’d
like to help him, and I would, if I was sure he was game to
stay and help us.”

~ That part lf it was soon decided. The leading Indian

had the better horse of the two, and was gaining inch by inch
as they thundered on, and his long lance was lifted, ready for
the blow. At this moment, without in the least slackening his
pace, the white man turned in his saddle with his arm exten-
ded. Then came the crack of the pistol, and the Indian fell
lifeless t0 the earth, while his horse careered wildly ovsr the
plain.

“ Rubbedont, by gracious,” muttered Jack. “ Here, Ned.
let's go down and look into this matter. Whistle for Jim

, Buttrick, for we orter have three.”

“ I’ll go with you,” said Dunham.

 
4 horse, too close to allow» the use of the lance.

(

TEE PRAIRIE QUEEN.

“ I wouldn’t.ef I was you," said Jack.
juns afore.”
“ Never mind that; call no more men, but ride on.

“You ain‘t lit In-

Per

haps that man has a mother who is weeping for him to‘night; 1.

who knows?”

“Plucky, the square is,” said Jack.
and keep yer shooters handy.”

By this time two more of the Indians were closing in upon
the white man, while the others were making a slight circuit,
to close in on him from both sides. They saw him loading
the pistols he had ﬁred, even as he rode, a thing which no
one except the most practiced horseman could do. But this
necessarily retarded his course, and the Indians gained upon
him rapidly, although he took it all coolly, pressing the cap
hard down upon the tube before he attempted to use the pis-
tol. He ﬁred at last, just as the grim savage, with a demo-
niac yell, thrust at his back with the lance. Nothing saved
the White man from being,r impaled upon the sharp point of
the lance but a dexterous twist of the body, while, at the same
moment, the pistol exploded, and the savage rolled off his
saddle with that grin of malice frozen on his face. The sec-
ond was so close that it seemed as if the white man could not
avoid the lance, and he lunged out ﬁercely, and Jack, riding

“ Come along, Ned,

down at a break-neck pace, saw the white man’s saddle empty, '

and thought he had gone down, but, the next moment, he saw
him with his hand upon the dangling rein of the Indian’s
There Was a
quick blow, a wild yell, and the white man appeared in the
saddle, with the Indian’s lance in his hand! '

“ Hi, stranger l” roared Jack. “ This way; hyar’s company.”

The White man looked in the direction of the voice, and
uttered a cheer of triumph, and the next moment they saw
him wheel his horse and ride straight at the ﬁrst Indian he
could see, with his lance-butt pressed hard against his stirrup;

“ The devil is mad,” hissed Fenway. “ But, oh mighty,
kam’t he ﬁght I” ,

He pulled up and sighted an Indian who was next to the
one against whom the hunted man directed his lance.
Fenway knew how to shoot, and a clock could not have ticked
twice from the time when the butt pressed against his shoul-

a

J ack. ,_

  
:
l

 
A CORDIAL GllEE’X'ING,
der to the ﬂash of the piece. They saw the Indian throw up
his arms and sink forward on his horse’s mane, just as his
companion shot out of the saddle with the force of a catapult,
literally forced out by the lance in the. nervous hand of the
man they had followed almost unto death. The other two
indians saw that help had come, and turned to ﬂy, but Ned
dropped one by a long shot, and of the seven who had fol-
lowed the rescued white man, only one escaped to tell the
tale. Dunhnm ﬁred at him iuethaetually, and he disappeared
behind the ridge, while the white men rode up to meet each-
Other, as coolly as though nothing had happened.

“ How are you stronger ‘t” said J aek. “ Hope you are
mighty well.”

“ All right !” said the stranger, coolly. “Glad you hap-
pened along, boys, for i really don’t know how it would have

come out if you had not shot that follow. I rather think he
would have speared me while Iwas engaged with this last
one.”

“You are a cool card. stranger,” said Jack. “ Extend
your fin, ef so be you ain’t ashamed to shake hands with an
old ranger.” ‘

“ Not a bit of it, old man," said the other, frankly. “ There’s
my hand, and I’d be glad to know your name."

“ I’m Jack Fenway of the Brazos—Fighting Jack, they call
me sometimes. Mont be you hev heardof me ‘3” '

“ I have, a. hundred times, and am proud to take you by
the hand. May I ask the names of the other gentlemen?"

“ Now see hyar, thar’s only one gentleman in our party, and
that’s the square here, and you mout 'a’ knowed it by seeing
how handy he missed his man. That other hruiser is Ned
Ames, my right bower on a scout. You had a nasty time,
jest now.”

“ Rather. These fellows broke into my comp an ' hour ago,
Itilled the two men who were with me, and tried to do the
same thing by me.” I y

“We seen you come tearing out from behind the ridge,
fund Wanted to take a hand in, but you didn’t leave us much
to do.” '

“.Well, I had my work cut out for me, and no time to
waste in doing it. Have you a camp hereabout ‘f”

n

\

  
rm: Prumm qum.

“ Just over the swell.” V

“ Then with your permission I will csin with you to-night.‘ .

“ You're welcome; Ned, git down and raise this h’ar and
bring it along. You’d better be spry, for I hear the boys 3-
coming and they may want a hand in."

“ Come on, sir,” said Dunham, in a Whisper to the stranger.
“ They are enemies and villains, but I can not bear this muti-
lation of the dead.”

“ You must get over that prejudice, if you live long in
Texas. I am an Indian-ﬁghter of long standing, but I never
mutilate a man who is dead; but, for all that, the atrocities
of these Comanche ﬁends have made the Rangers revengcful,
/ V and besides, there is a. premium upon the sculps of warriors.
You can not conquer Comanches with birchen rods.”

They rode back together, and as they went Dunham studied
his companion. A tall, muscular, strongly-framed young man,
with a face having too many angles for beauty, but with a
r ' lofty, gallant bearing; a man to live and die with; a Saul ‘
among his fellows. Half-way up the slope :they met the
Rangers coming down at full gallop, their bridles swinging
loose, their riﬂes ready, and their faces ﬂushed with the order
of battle. !

“ Turn back, boys," said the stranger. “ It’s all right .nd ‘
the Comonches are gone under." ,

The Rangers, hearing that quiet but commanding voice, .
slung their riﬂes, and fell in behind the speaker, and rode
back to camp without a word. Ten minutes o‘ter Fighting
Jack and Ned came in, and the ﬁrst rode close to the stranger,
who had picketed his horse and was lying on the grass, and i
looked closely into his fare. ' 

“ Mud 'l‘om, by the living hokicsl Boys, here’s your
lender; give him three cheers for the honor of Texas.”

The men burst into a stentorian cheering and crowded
about the bold stranger to take him t y the hand, mad with

on~ ~

iﬂ‘u-‘n

  
CHAPTER V.

THE RANGERS‘ GATHERING.

TnouAs WESTERN, better known as Mad T0111, from his
chivalrous and almost insane daring when in battle, was a
man prominent in the early history of Texas, and one of the
most active leaders of Rangers known since Texas shook of!
the Mexican yoke, and set up the “ Lone Star” banner. A
man yet young, frank and generous, possessing a muscular
frame and a stout heart, with the power of leading those who
followed him wherever he might choose to go, it is no wonder
that he gained the hearts of the bold riders of the plains.
When there Was dangerous service to be done, requiring more
than usual pluck and ability, Mad Tom Western was sure to
be sent for. He had the civil power of sheriff as well as his
command in the Rangers, and this gave what he did the color
of civil law. The Comanche, the Apache and Navajo knew
and feared him. Wherever his towering form was seen in
some desperate struggle on the plains, the Indians went down
like men of straw. Fighting Jack, knowing that a time of
great peril was coming to that section over which he had
control, had sent for Western, knowing that he would come,
and he had ridden up from Austin with only two men, and

’ had been set upon in the chapparal in the night, and only es»

caped in the way we have noted.

“ By Jehosaphat l” roared Jack.
Tom ; I don't know why."

“ I kept my face away from you as much as possible,” said
Western, “ for I wanted to see how long I could talk before
you would ﬁnd me out.” ,

“ If I wasn’t a born fool I’d ’a’ knowed that only one man
in Texas could ﬁght lngins that way," growled J tick, suikily.

‘ “I didn’t know you,

- u Come this way; I Want to tell you why we are out ttrnightf”

He led the leader apart, and communicated in a love voice
the object of their search, and pointed out Dunham as the
{other of the lost girl. Western became immediawa attentive,

232 2

 
I

88 THE rmrnm QUEEN.
f
for no knight of the old days had so great a respect, or more
chivalrous feelings in regard to woman, than this man of lhe
West. His deep gray eyes kindled, and were ﬁxed intently
upon the face of the Ranger as he told the story, and when
it was done he pledged himself to do all in his power to aid
them in in" recovering \Malwl Dnnhmn. The vivid description
of her beauty, too, had its effect upon him, and the young

, man found himself dreaming, from time to time, whether she

would receive him as she did the other Rangers.

“ We must do what we can. Jack,” he said; “ and yet, I
don’t like to stay here to-night. Those few Indians were not
alone, in my opinion, but are a part of some great band con-
gregated for a raid upon the border. Have you sent word for
the rest of the follows to turn out ?" ‘ .

“Yes; they are ordered to meet at Dunham‘s to-morrow
night, and to be ready to move at a moment‘s warning.”

“ How many can you turn out ‘2" I

“ Fifty-seven, big and litlle, old and young."

" I know your men of the Colorado, old Jack, and they are
game to the bottom, and will light until the teeth meet in
the ﬂesh. Let’s double our guards and do as well as we can;
but I'm a little afraid the Comanches will ﬁnd us before morn-
ing-H

They did not, however. Either the Indians who had at-
tacked Western’s party had wandered a great distance from
their main party, or some accident had happened to the single
man who had escaped, for the night passed without further
alarm. At early morning the Rangers again started upon
the trail, and uhout ten o‘clock reached the place where the
Comanche warrior had seized Mabel. The keen eyes of the
scouts saw the evidences of the struggle, and every cheek
turned white, and they cast looks of silent sorrow at the un-
fortunate fathcr who sat in his saddle, nervously awaiting their
verdict.

“ Why don‘t you speak ?" he half-screamed.
you look at me in that way ‘3"

“Why do

“ You tell him,” muttered Jack, in the ear of Tom Western. I

“ I tell him!
Fenway.” ,
“ I don’t see it that way, but it must be done. Square,.1’m

I’ll see you all— It‘s your business, Jack

"F’HMQGOJH'P'IH

Anna—v

A

m

H'VE‘

maﬁa.

 
mm son IN MOTION. 39‘
right sorry to say it, but the sign shows that pretty Mabel met
I Comanche hyar, and I’m afraid he took her.”

The father uttered an agonizing cry, and dropped his face
into his open palms, and the Rangers sat mute,looking at him
without the power of giving relief.

They knew how he loved his dallghter, and none knew
better than they how merciless the Comanches are to their
captives, for some of them had known what it was to see the

. roof-tree law, and to ﬁnd the mangled forms of dear friends

or relatives lying among the charred and blackened remains
of a once happy home.”

“ Cheer up, cheer up,” said Jack, with a rude attempt at
consolation. “We ain’t give her up yit, and we’ll ﬁnd her, of
so be she’s unywhar above ground. Look around you, boys.
and see what you kin ﬁnd.” _

I They were about to obey the summons when a cry arose
that the Comanches were coming. They looked out upon the
plain and saw a great band of Indians, fully a hundred in

' number, coming down at the full speed of their wild horses.

They came on in single ﬁle, at the full stretch of their horses,

.' the shield upon the left arm, riﬂes slung upon the same side,

and the right hand grasping the weapon par emllence of the
prairie Indian—the lance. That they were a war-party was
plainly to be seen, for not an Indian woman could to be seen
in the band. Looking at them from the slope, Dunham no
longer wondered that the cowardly Mexicans could not stand
before them ; but his inspection was cut short by Western.

' “ We must get out of this, Jack,” he said. “ With only
thirteen men, it is foolhardy even for me to stand against
that party unless forced to it, and you all know I take long
odds sometimes. Get back out of sight, for I don’t think they
see us yet."

“ Not they, or the red demons would yell enough to wake
the dead from their graves." .

“ Fall back, then, and let your guide show us the way across
the ridge to the level as soon as possible.”

Buttrick rode to the front, and Dunham, with a despairing
100k, followed slowly. Western looked at him and shook his
head, his ﬁne face clouded, and Jack Fenway nodded gravely.

“ He knows what Texas is now, poor fellow,” thought Wen,

 
40 was: PRAIRIE QUEEN.

ern. “ I hope the poor girl has escaped, but I don’t like it in
the least.”

They rode away at a rapid pace, Buttrick leading the
They crossed 1

way like a man who understood his ground.
a point in the chapparal, descended a sterile slope, and reached
'the bottom of a gully which ran through the ridge, just wide
enough for a single horseman to pass through. Passing
through this gully, they struck the bed of a small stream, and
Buttrick led the way into the water, and they waded through
the bed of the stream for half an hour, sometimes up to their
saddles in water, and at others in such shallows that but for
the sand, the water would not have covered the fetlocks.
Then they left ‘the course of the stream, and turning abruptly
to the left, entered a second gully, something like the ﬁrst 
they had passed through, and rode over a rocky path, upon 1,
which the unshod horses made no impression, and came sud- a
denly out upon the plain, ﬁve miles below the spot where they I
had seen the Indians. Moreover, a broad strip of forest nearly {
four miles long intervened between them and their Indian 
toes, and Western looked approvingly at Buttriek. ‘

“ You are a guide, my man,” he said. “ It‘s a pleasure to ,
follow your lead." [

“ I know the kentry,” granted the guide. “ Bet yer life on 
that I” '

Western now turned to Dunham, the sadness upon whose !
face was deepening, and spoke to him for the ﬁrst time since ‘
the appearance of the Indians. '

“ You can bear adversity, sir,” he said. “You made no -
opposition when we were forced to leave the trail of the In-
dians and your daughter, because you saw that the great war-
party was too much for us. Now, in return for that, there is
my hand, and I give you my promise not to turn back, when .
once at the head of your Rangers, until it is decided that no-
thing can save your daughter; and if she is lost, I will take ‘
such vengeance that the whole Comanche nation shall bewail i
the hour when they did her an injury.” 1

“ You are a brave man and comfort me ; but her mother— 
her poor mother l" cried Dunham. !

“ She must bear the loss as bravely as she can.
no; I was the youngest of a family of seven brothers, 311,-;

3.

Look at,“

ﬁwm.umu~mp—-~Ham-

    
'rpuaamwm

‘ been laid upon her.

run GATHERING. 41 '
brave men and lovers of Texas. Where are they now? Ask
the Comanches, who cut them off in one night. Iliad a sister,
who killed herself rather then fall into their hands. My gray-
haired father lay dead across the threshold he had defended
to the last, and I alone remain. I am not likely, then, to for-
get my wrongs or spare an Indian. Inevcrlmve done it since
that hour. I never shall while they hurry the border, and
your wrongs shall be a. new incentive to revenge. I have
never before said as much as this to any man, and should not
now, except to show you that I am a man not likely to turn
my back while this Comanche band remains upon the plains.
Ride on, Buttrick, and take as straight a course as you can
toward Mr. Dunham’s.”

“ ’l‘hey kain’t git at us now, even ef they was to see us,”
said"Buttrick. They‘d hev to go round the wood, for thar‘s a
quicksand through it they couldn’t cross, and by the time
they got down we'd be ten miles away.”

“All right; go on.”

The band set out moodily upon their return, and toward
sunset rode up to Dunham’s ranche. Mrs. Dunham was wait-
ing for them, and her heart sunk as she saw them come back
without Mabel, and her husband’s face showed her that they
had been unsuccessful. The Rangers did not come up to the
house, but went into camp outside, and Dunhnm went alone
into his desolated home. The secret of that meeting between
husband and wife no one knows, and let it be hidden. In the
end her strong, true, earnest nature triumphed, and she wns
ready to bear as bravely as she might, the burden which had
Dunham gave orders for the killing of
a beef for the Rangers, and it was needed, for all through the
night additions were made to their numbers, men who came
singly and in lgroups, until the morning showed sixty well-
armed Rangers camped in the space )ulside the cabin, ready
for battle.

  
CHAPTER VI.
AFAL RANGER.

WESTERN had been busy through the night, and scouts had
been sent out in various directions to pick up news of the
coming of the Indians, who were expected to strike at some
of the outlying stations, perhaps at Dunham’s ﬁrst of all. The
stockmen and drivers were armed, but most of them were
Mexicans, who, although loud in protestations of the fearful
deeds of valor they would do, were not to be depended on in
a.‘ ﬁght. Four picked men from the Rangers were therefore
selected to guard the station from any sudden attack, and

 
boats were ready upon the river behind the house to take the ,
people to the other bank, in case they should be attacked by ‘

overwhelming numbers, as might be the case. .
The scouts came in one by one, and reported no Indians to

be seen, but Western was too welll versed in the Indian 3‘

character to suppose that they would retreat without striking a .

blow. If, as he believed, they were led by Captain Waubena,
the most famous Comanche chief of his day.

“ Very well, boys. If the mountain will not come to
Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the mountain. Fall in. you
screamers! Look to your ammunition, and see that your saddles
are all right, for some of your stirrups will be tried before we
get back from this raid.”

So they mounted and rode away in search of the Indian
band, and Dunham went with them. Three miles from the
cabin they were startled by piercing yells, and thought the

Indians were upon them, and each laid a hand upon his riﬂe, I‘

but dropped it with a laugh as they saw the ﬁgure of Yantic,
the deformed follower of Drinsley Nelson, coming down at a
mad gallop, performing the most surprising antics. Now he
would leap upright in the saddle, swaying his body and arms
in a fantastic manner, and performing feats which no circus
performer ever equaled. Then he would grasp the saddle
with both hands, ﬂourishing his short legs in the air, stand

upon his head, lie at length upon the home’s back, spring to f

\

 
Litmus—nower-

'40

so

“'7

>u

7'6

1e
1e
ie,
ic,

he
ns
us
He

    
YANTIC’S ANTICS. 4,8
the earth, still clinging to the saddle and leap lightly up again,
yelling all the while in a. most frantic manner.

“ Halt,” shouted Western. “ Come in here, you young
imp."

Yuntic replied by a. deﬁant cry, and only consented to cease
his antics when a ride was brought to bear upon him. and he
came riding up to the Rangers, gravely standing on his hand,
and beaming at them complacently from his keen gray eyes.
Reaching the band, he threw himself over his horse’s head,
bounded up like a ball when he touched the ground, und be-
hold him seated gruvely upon Western‘s horse, in from of the
saddle looking up at him! '

“ How are you ‘3” he said.
Ynntic.” ‘

“I should say you were," said Western, plucking him from
his perch and dropping him upon the ground. “ What have
you got to say to me i‘”

“ lie! ha! ha! hoo! I’m

, “Don’t want you; went Mister Dunhum. Ynh! Hool
hool hoo! I see him.”
“Who is this strange creature?” said Dunhum. “ What

noes he want with me ‘3”

“I’m Yantic,” persisted the creature, ﬂourishing his long
arms in the air, and bursting into shouts of elvish laughter.
“ Yantic the wise, Yantic the beauty, hoo ! hoo ! I want. to
talk to you, Mr. Dunham, and I can't do it before all these
men. They have no right to listen.” '

“‘Ride on in front, gentlemen,” Snid Dunham.

“But look you, Muster Ynntic, or whatever you choose
to call yourself,” said Western. “ Don’t let me have to come
back to you, for, us surely as I do, I will have your ears oi!
close to your head.”

Ynntie only answered by a gesture of derision, and the Run-
gers touched their horses and rode on for a. hundred yards,
when they faced about and looked at the pair left upon the
prairie.

“ Now, sir," said Dunham.

“ Now, sir," replied Yantic, mimicking him.

\ “ What do you seek here ‘2"

“ Yourself.”
“ Have you any thing to say to me?"

   
M mmqunmn.

u Yes."

“ What is it ?

Yantic thrust his hand into the breast of his red shirt and
drew out a note which he put into the hands of the fa-

‘ther, who grasped it eagerly and tore it open. It was from
Mabel, and read as follows:
“ DEAR FATHER:

“I have been in deadly peril, but have escaped it, and am
now in the hands of friends. I send this by a trusty hand to
ease your anxiety, and save my mother from the sorrow she
must feel at my supposed loss. Tell her that I am safe and
happy, and tomorrow or the next day, at the furthest, I shall
be With you again. M friends inform me that there are In-
dians on the plains, an it may be that they can not take me
home at once, but the assure me that when it is safe I shall
be returned to you. am not at liberty to inform you who
my friends are, but they treat me with great kindness. I write
in haste, for the messenger who is to carry this letter is wait.
ing and I would not keep my dear mother in suspense for a
moment. Your affectionate daughter, MABEL.”

Dunham uttered a joyful shout and rode toward the band,

~ waving the letter above his head. Yantic followed, standing
upright in the saddle, performing his strange feats of eques-
trianism. The happy father, with tears in his eyes, read the
letter to the Rangers, who broke out into stentorian cheering.

“ Hyar, you little imp,” roared Jack. “ Do you want my
scalp, say? By Jinks, you kin have it. Hip, hip, hip, hoo-
ray! Who’s got any money? Hyar’s all the (lust I’ve got,

and it goes with the hat fur that little chap that brought the‘

letter. Plank your dust, you sinners.”

He rode through the company, holding his hat in his hand,
and every man put something of value into it. Dunham emp-
tied his poeket—book into it, and Western threw in a handful
of gold coin. ‘

' “ Hold your hat, you little cuss,” said Jack. “ Boy, I like
you; yer a. feller after my own heart, and I wish you was in
the Rangers, I (10. Look hyar; ef you ever want a friend,
you come to Jack Fenway, Fighting Jack of the Brazos, and
he’ll' answer the call, my little rooster.”

“ Yantic don’t want the money,” said the strange creature,
with a suspicious moisture in his eyes “ You are very kind

to me, and I thank you.”

 
u.

5..

93'5"

3’
d

    
JOYFUL TIDINGS. 45

" Bah! you take the dust, or we’ll quarrel,and I know you
don't want to quarrel with me. Now, where is the gal ?”

Yantic suddenly became mute, and looked at the speaker
with a lack-luster eye. ‘

“ None of that, J ask,” said Western. “ You must remem-
ber that the lady‘s letter says that she is not at liberty to tell
who her friends are.” ‘

Ynntic cast a gratiﬁed look at the speaker.

“ The white lady will come back,” he said. “ There are
Comanches on the plains and no one but Yantic dare come
out. Yantie is not afraid of them.”

“ They’d raise your ha’r, boy ; you must look out for
them," said Jack. ‘

“ Boo ! They can’t catch Yantic on his white horse Rowen".

“ I don‘t believe they kin,” replied Jack, admiringly. “ I
never see an Injin yit that could do what you kin on hose-
back, anyway. You said thar was Injins on the plain. How
many ‘?"

“ A hundred.”

“ Did you count them ?" .

“Yah! They chased Yantic, but they gave it up. The
chief caught Missee Dunhnm yesserday, but she got away and
ran into the chapparal from him. Hoot He couldn't ketch
her.”

“ By jingo, I thought so," said Jack.
manehe chief?”

“ Captain Waubena.”

“ Hal then we must look out, for the big thief is smart,
bar‘s no denying. He kin ﬁght, too, and knows how to
1end ntn. Could you guide us to the place where you saw
him last ?"

“ Must go back; I promised the master I would, and he’d
give it to me if I’m behind the time.”

“ I suppose you must go then," said Jack.
you see the Indians last ?”

The deformed man or boy pointed out upon the prairie to-
ward the west.

“ Over there,” he said. “ There’s a man hanging to a
tree with his tongue out Hoo l How Yantic laughed at
him.” I

“ Who is the Co-

“ Whar did

  
46 THE murmur QUEEN.

“ Go back to the place from which you came, boy," said
Dunham, “ and tell my daughter that I have received her let-
ter and am happy, and will ride at once to tell her mother of
her safety. Tell her to keep quiet where she is, for the Co-
manches are on the war-path.”

The boy shook his elf locks wildly, waved his hand in
token of farewell, and shot off across the prairie at a pace
which astonished the Rangers, who had not dreamed that the
gray horse was capable of such speed. Jack looked after
him, laughing:

“ I don’t wonder the Comanches couldn’t catch him,” he
said. “ I never see a hose go like that in all my life. I
s'pose you are going back to tell your Wife, square ?”

“ Immediately; she will be in agony until we return."

“ You must go, Mr. Dunham, but be careful of yourself and

look out for the Indians,” said Western. “We must go on,
and try to force a battle with Captain Waubena, although I
doubt he is too cautious to meet us.”
' Dunham bade them good-by, and rode away toward his
home at full speed, while the Rangers disappeared over the
swell in the opposite direction. They knew the enemy they
had to deal with, but what ranger did not consider himself
equal to any two Indians who ever crossed the prairie?

“ What do you think of that boy, Jack ?" said Western, as
they rode side by side.

“ I don’t know what to think, Tom. It seems to me that
he knows too much for such a looking specimen as he is."

“ The young rascal knows enough, but does it not seem
strange to you that these men'refuse to allow Miss Dunham
to speak of them ‘2”

“ ’Tis odd; but they’ve got good reasons, probably.”

“ Not a doubt of it ; but I dislike mysteries in our part of
the country. I hope they may bring the lady back to her
mother.”

“ That boy will stand by her,” said Jack. “I tell you he
ain’t got a bad heart, and the tears was in his eyes when he
see how glad we was to ﬁnd where she was. I’ve got a good
deal of faith in the little chap, though he wouldn’t tell us who
he was. You, Tom Buttrick, ride out and scout a little. I’d
like to bring this cussid Waubena to a ﬁght.” ~

 
11! THE cur-mun. l

Buttrick disappeared over the swell of the prairie 4.4 the '
Rangers rode slowly after. Ten minutes passed, ane he came
riding back to say that the coast was clear for miles, and not
an Indian in sight, but that he could see Yantic holding a
straight course for the chapparal.

“ Waubena is in the chapparal,” said Jack. “ You bet on
it he means something more than a mere dash, or it would be
over by now. Ef thar’s any thing I do hate, it's cuteness in
an Injin, and Wauhena‘s got it, and no mistake."

“ We had better ride down to the three trees and bury that
body I’ve heard spoken of, and then see if we can not reuse
the Indian out of the chapparal, if they are in it.” ,

They rode on to the three trees and took down the ghastly
form of Varda, the horse-thief, and, digging a trench in the
soft earth of the prairie, threw the body in and covered it
completely. There was little sympathy wasted over the dead
Mexican, for they knew him to be a man utterly wicked, who
deserved his fate. Their work done, the two leaders had a
consultation, and at the end of it, four scouts rode away upon
divergent paths, and Western and Jack rode oﬂ‘ together, leav-
ing the greater portion of the band camped upon the prairie,
waiting orders.

The two leaders rode rapidly along the broad trail left by
the Indians when they last passed over it, talking to each other
in low tones. and after a long ride reached the Big Chapparal
without meeting an enemy, plunged in, and disappeared from
the view of any one who had been upon the prairie.

“Got a compass?” said Jack, as they entered. Western
nodded in reply, and touched the pocket of his shooting-coat.
Both these prairie voyagers knew the danger of being lost in
the boundless ehapparal too well to be caught in it without a
guide.

“ Let‘s wait hyar, then," said Jack. “ I may be wrong, Tom,
I hope I be, but I don’t like the ways of our friend Dick
Dempsey. That’s why I sent him with the scouts, and by
jingo here he comes alone.” ‘ »

Looking out upon the prairie, they saw Dempsey approacb- ,
ing at a slinging trot. As he came near, they could see that
.his dark face was lighted up by a savage grin, and now and
then his knife-hand dropped upon the hilt in an angry man.

 
" , a whistle to his lips, blew a shrill call.

  
48 ‘ rm: PRAIRIE QUEEN. ,
ner. They sat silent as statues upon their trained horses in
he broke into the chapparal not ﬁfty yards from them, and
rode on with the air of a man who knew where he was going.

“ He ain’t scepting fur the Injins, Tom,” said Jack. “ What
is he arter, then ?”

“ That We must ﬁnd out.
him at once.”

Dempsey rode on swiftly across the chapparal, taking the
paths with the ease of one who had been there before. After
half an hour’s ride he paused in his rapid course, and raising
It was answered im-

mediately from a distance, and the call was made and repeat-
" ed from time to time, when a hasty step was heard, and the
man called Brinsley Nelson appeared, on foot.

“ Ha, old fellow,” he said, “ very glad to see you.
do you like your life as a Texan Ranger?"

“ It’s a. cursed life,” replied the other, sullenly, “ and you
have no right to keep me at it. Now I like ﬁghting well
enough, but these fellows suit me too well. If they can't ﬁnd
any Indians or horsethieves to hang or shoot, they get up a
ﬁght among themselves."

“That is the nature of the strange animal known as the
Texan Ranger,” said Nelson, laughing. “ Have they hung
anybody lately to your knowledge?”

“Yes; they hung Varda yesterday. The foal was down
the river at a, ranche, and nothing would do him but to steal
some horses from an old major. Of course Jack Fenway got
out the Rangers and folloWed him, and—you know the rest.”

“ Did he blah ‘3”

“ Not a. hit of it. I’ll say this in his favor: scoundrel as
he was, he died with his teeth set.”

“ Exit Emanuel Varda,” 'uid Nelson, quietly.

“ Do-ubtless you would speak in that way of me, if I got
into trouble."

“ No, Dempsey, not I. The fact is. our deceased friend,
Varda, had too clumsy a hand for our work, and it is better
for us, all things considered, that he has made his bow and
retired. There are both worse and better men than Varda in
this naughty world of ours, but he has served his purpose and

is gone. The Rangers are out again, Yantic tells me.” '

Let us strike .his trail and follow

How

     
A murmur. LOVER. . 49

“Did that venomous heap of bones tell you that the Ran-
gers gave him a hatnt of money for bringing that letter i"

“ Yes; they rewarded him well for it, and thanks to the
nice sense of honor of our friend Tom Western, did not ask
him any awkward questions. Though, for the matter of that,
I doubt if they could have made much out of Yantic. He
can assume the most imbecile look upon occasions I ever saw."

“ I came here to speak of this girl you have taken, Captain
Nelson ; I want you to keep her here awhile.” v

“ Why so ‘2”

“ Because I can make better terms with her here than at
home. I love the little coquette, and she puts me aside in
her supercilious manner until I am half mad.”

Nelson ran his eye laughingly up and down the person of
the speaker. His look of scornful surprise was simply mad-
dening to a man of Dempsey’s temperament, and his hand
dropped to the hilt of his knife.

“ Don’t provoke me, Brinsley Nelson.
better than that.”

“My dear fellow, you surely do not mean what you say.

You ought to know

‘ This lady whom we have saved from the dangers of the chap-

paral is a lady, both by birth and education, a reﬁned woman
in every respect, and you, to say the least, have neglected
those arts which beautify and adorn the creature man."

“ What is that to you ?” shrieked the man, savagely. “ I'll
have her, and you’d better not stand in my way.”
“ My dear fellow, I don’t stand in your way. If the lady‘s

inclinations do not—"

“‘ You know well enough I can’t git her by fair means
Will you keep her here and give me a chance ?”

“Keep her here? You know as well as I do that it is
impossible. The lady goes back to her father this very day,
if the coast is clear, for the men are grumbling already.
Come; I’ll tell you what I will do. Where are the Rangers ?”

“ Camped by the three trees, Where we hung Varda.”

“ HaVe they buried him ?"

“ Yes.”

“ Then you shall have all the eclat of returning her to her
parents I will go with you and we will take. her to the Ran-

,m and give her up.“

\

 
50 m rmmm QUEEN.’

“ That is something,” said the young man, sullenly. “ Do
you mean to face the Rangers yourself ‘3"

“ Certainly.”

‘3 But, mad Tom Western is there."

“ Tom,Westcrn is an intimate friend of mine, and you will
see that he will be glad to see me. Come to the camp and
We will ﬁnd the lady, and seek the Rangers at once.”

CHAPTER VII.
ZILLAII.

MABEL, after sending her letter to her father, began to
make acquaintance with Zillah, and found her intelligence
more than commensurate with her beauty. ‘

“ I am a Mexican girl,” said Zillah, in answer to Ma-
bel’s queries, “as you have doubtless guessed. I lived in
the city of Mexico, but my father had a hacienda outside the
walls of the city. My father was prominent in the councils
of the ruling house, and rich; but you know what Mexico is.
In one night, as if by an earthquake, the power of the govern-
ment was overthrown, the President an exile, and my father
slain upon the very threshold of his dwelling, which, to the
last, he had bravely defended. My brother and myself, young
children, were driven out, homeless and friendless. To the
last we will cling together, and if need be die together when
the end comes. Our motto is, faithful until death."

“ And what did you do?” '

“ Ask any homeless waif that is suddenly deprived of a coun-
try and a home. We did what we could, and by the aid of
some jewels which my brother, a bright boy, succeeded in
saving, we did very well for a time, struggling on against
hope. I took the garb of a boy, and as such made voyages
as a cabin-boy in the same ship in which my brother was a
hand before the mast. Through all, I have kept myself a pure
woman, for the honor of our ancient house is very dear
to me, and ‘I hope to see the time when it shall rise from
the dust and again become‘a power in the land, as it has
been."

 
01m ONLY. ‘ , 51

‘ And who is this Brinsley Nelson who has given me shel-
M‘ i”

A roscate ﬂush stole up into the rich complexion of Zillah.

“Ask me nothing of him. Whatever he may have been
to others, to me he has been nothing but a true friend. He
gave us a shelter and a home when all others forsook us, and
aided Us in the great design for which we labor.”

“ Little girl, your blushing cheek betrays you. Brinsley
Nelson is something more to you than a. kind friend."

Zillah hid her face on the neck of the speaker and made no
reply.

“ May he be deserving of the love of such a heart as yours,
my sweet girl,” said Mabel. “As for me, I have no lover.”

“Not one ?"

“Pshaw. There are half a dozen bordermen who would
love me if I would allow it, but they are not of my kind.”

“ Did you never see a man whom you could love ?”

“ One only,” said Mabel, softly; “ but I never saw him ex-
cept once, and shall never see him again."

" Will you tell me Where it was r”

“ In New Orleans, two years ago. There was a ﬁre in the
building in which we were stopping at the time, and I slept
heavily, tired out. When I awoke, a cloud of smoke was in
the room, and I could hear the crackling of the ﬂames he-
neath me. Staggering to my feet, in dread of approaching
death, I looked out at the window, and a passing breeze fanned
aside the smoke, and showed me a wild scene. The street
below was in wild confusion. Helmeted ﬁre warriors were
hard at work, the rattle of the brakes, the hoarse notes of the
ﬁre trumpet, and the dash of water, combined with the roar-
ing ﬂames, combined to make a. grand and imposing scene.
As I stood there my father saw me, and raised his hands to
me, calling on my name. Then a universal shout of horror
rose from beneath me, and no one dared to enter. I saw two
or three ﬁremen run in, but they emerged immediately, their
hands covering their blistered faces,

/ “ ‘ Bring that long ladder,’ cried a commanding voice. The
room in which I was was in the third story, and when the
ladder was put up, I found to my horror that it did not
reach the window within ten feet. An active ﬁgure ran up

I

\

 
ﬂ Tin: 2mm QUEEN.

the ladder like a cat, and I looked into his face and read ‘
something in his eyes which I never saw in man’s eyes before, 1 m
a determination to succeed or die. He paused on the last ‘ ““

round but one, and took a coil of rope from his shoulder. co
“ ‘I am going to throw the end of this rope to you,’ he m
said, hurriedly. ‘ Can you ﬁnd any thing to fasten it to?’ m
“ ‘ Yes,’ I said. 1 
“ ‘ Keep steady; tie it tightly, and all will be well, for I 1“
have come to save you.’ I
\ “ He threw up the rope and I caught it, and groping

through that ﬁery oven, tied it fast to the bed-post. hf
“ ' Is it all right?’ he cried. ; b

“ I had little voice to answer, but I told him yes, and the "
next moment he was in the room. A handsome, strong-built , t]

' young man, with a determined eye, wearing a dress very much 3
like the costume of the Texan Rangers. ‘ f

“‘ Come here,’ he said, and I obeyed him without a word.
He caught me in his arm and ran to the window, and taking 1
up a shawl, threw it about my body and made me sit upon the ‘
window-sill. Then with that powerful arm he lowered me i
to a ﬁreman who was standing on the ladder below. and he
received me and descended carefully, hearing me in his arms.
My preserver waited until we were down, though the ﬂames
were bursting through the ﬂoors of the room in which he
stood, and then went out upon the window-sill. Just as his
feet touched the ladder the rope, burned through, separated
suddenly. and he fell, while a cry of dismay went up from the
street, but changed to a joyful outcry, for his hands fastened
on a round of the ladder as he fell, and swinging himself

' round, he struck the ladder and slid quickly to the ground.

“ ‘ If that rope had broken a moment sooner I should have
been hurt,’ he said, coolly. _ E

“My father overwhelmed him with protestations of regard 1
and gratitude, which he listened to quietly. .

“ ‘ Thank you ; it’s all right, but my sort of fellows like a

. spice of danger.’ '

“t At least give me your name,’ my father protested.

“ ‘ Not here; where shall I ﬁnd you to-morrow ?‘

“‘At the St Charles. Do not fail to come, for we expect
you, and you have saved a life dearer to me than myown.”

  
ad
re.
Ist

he

i

 
A crusts. 68

He bowed and left us, and from that time I never have
seen his face. Zillah, that face is always with me, and I
would know it anywhere I should see it. Why he did not
come to us, I have never known, but we left New Orleans
the second day after the ﬁre, and came here. I wish I knew
his name, for I would treasure it in my heart, and keep its
memory green, even though I may never see him again. , For
his sake I will wait patiently, hoping that in God’s good time
I may meet and know him.”

“ This is love,” said Zillah.
heart, dear girl, or you might be sure of that.
Nelson’s rap; come in.”

The door opened, and Brinsley Nelson appeared upon the
threshold.

“ May I enter?" he said. “ You do not know how I pine
for society better than this outside.”

Zillnh nodded brightly, and he entered, took a seat, and‘be-r
gan to converse with a ﬂuency peculiarly his own. Mabel
felt the charm of his conversation, and yet there was some-
thing about it even while she listened intently, which did not
please her. Perhaps it was on account of a certain ﬂippancy
and dash in his manner, which gave her this unfavorable im-
pression, but he, unconscious of the feeling he caused. talked
on for an hour, until it became quite late, when with an apol-
ogy for taking so much of their time. he bowed and with-
drew, and went to an angle of the wall of the temple behind
a small cabin, and disappeared. \Vhere he went, it was in)-
possible to say, but an hour after he came out, his face work-
ing painfully, and a wild light in his eyes, and unlocking the
door of his cabin, went in and threw himself upon a couch in
deep thought, with a paper of cigarettes beside him, which
he smoked rapidly, lighting a new one by the ashes of the
old, as soon as it began to burn low.

“ Diaoolo !” he hissed at last. “ I wish I could get this girl
out of my brain, for, by every lie I um bound to Zillah. and
ought to be faithful to her, and Coradi will keep me to my
promise or have my lite. A crisis; how will it end 1'"

The morning of the next day was spent by the two girls ,
in lounging about the ruined walls, noting the strange em-

“ You do not know your own
Ah; that is

New engraved upon them, and studying the hieroglpr

 
54 THE IRAIRIE QUEEN.

about them. About noonday, Nelson came into the pleea
and um Mabel that the time had come to return to her friends. -

“ Am I to lose you so Soon, Mabel?” said Zillah, clasping
the hand of her friend. “ I have longed for such a friend as
you, and now I lose you in the moment when I love you

‘ most.”

“The parting will not be ﬁnal, Zillah,” said Mabel. “I
will see you again, and that soon. I live by the Colorado,
thirty miles below, and you must come and see me.”

Zillah looked at Nelson and her eyes asked a question, and
he answered by an aﬂirmative nod.

“ It is better that you should part now, for I am informed
that a strong party of rangers are camped upon the prairie
not far from here, and the object of their search is yourself.
I have fallen in with one of them by chance, and he will ac-
company us to the spot.”

“I must go, Zillah,” said Mabel. “ Remember that my
mother, who loves me dearly, is waiting and watching for my
coming, and has been in great grief on my account."

“Go, go,” cried Zillab. “I, also, nave lost all kindred ex-
cept my brother, and know what it is to feel the loss of those
we dearly love. I will see you again by some means, and
send you messages by my Mercury, Yantic, who is a faithful
little fellow, with a good heart. in his bosom in spite of his
strange form."

Nelson led Mabel from the cabin, where she found two
horses ready saddled and waiting for them. With a tender
farewell to Zillah, Mabel mounted, and followed Nelson by
the tortuous paths which led through the chappnral. They
had not gone a hundred yards, however, when Zillah came
cluttering after them, mounted upon a strong black mustang.

“ I must go, British-y,” she's-aid. in answer to his reproving
look. “ Do not deny me, for I promise to turn back when we
reach the edge of the chapparal."

Nelson made no reply, but rode in front, and the two girls
followed, side by side where the path was wide enough, and
separating only where the narrow track made it necessary.
Zillah rode well, controlling the spirited mustang as only a
Mexican woman can, her brown cheek ﬂushed by exercise and
he: luxuriant hair ﬂoating back upon the breeze.

 
' me]
I you
; hay

i see
tal:

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as.
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v-v—n—ow I

 
THE CONCEAIED FOE. ‘55
“Your coming has given me new life, Mabel," she said.
" I was wishing for something of the kind as a. change in my
monotonous life, but it never came. How lucky it was that
you‘ escaped into the chapparal; but for that I should never
have seen you.”

“,Thut is true in more senses than one, Zillah. If you had ‘
seen that horrible Indian who pursued me you would have
taken the same course that I did."

“ Not I,” cried Zillah. “I would have fought him, and
beat him too."

At this moment a face, horribly painted, with a grin of
malice imprinted upon it, parted the leaves of a thick clump
of bushes and looked at them. They did not notice it, but
rode on, unconscious of their danger, for the face was that of
Captain W aubena, the Comanche chief. He remained as im-
movable as a statue until they passed, and then stole out like
a phantom and followed their trail cautiously, his hand grasp-
ing a short riﬂe, ready for a shot. But, fortunately for them,
Dick Dempsey met them at this point, and the chief was too
able a warrior to hazard a battle with two such men as the
Ranger and Nelson, but kept on the trail.

“ I am glad to see you, Mr. Dempsey," said Mabel, extend-
ing her hand, “ and I thank you for coming to my aid.”

A delighted ﬂush shot into the dark face of the Ranger as
he took the proffered hand. _

“ You know I'd do any thing for you," he said, eageriy,
“ if it was to give my life.”

She withdrew her hand rather quickly, for she knew that
this 'man, rough and rude as he was, loved her with all the
passionate ﬁre of the Irish nature. Zillah parted from them
at the edge of the chapparal, and rode back alone to meet a. _
danger of which they had not dreamed, while Mabel, accom-
panied by Dempsey and Nelson, crossed the plain toward the
Rangers‘ camp. All the way Dempsey hardly spoke a. word,
but his dark eyes were constantly ﬁxed upon the beautiful
girl. They rode at a. rapid pace, for Nelson knew that the

Indians were about, and it was with a. sigh of relief that he
saw the Rangers picketed upon the plain, and lounging about
in indolent ease, with that disregard of danger so characteris-
tic of this people.

They raised a wild shout as they saw the

  
56 THE PRAIRIE QUEEN.

party, and aseore of men ran out to meet them, and Mabel
was escorted in a sort of triumphal procession to the camp,
laughing at the manner of her reception, but with suspicious
drops in her beautiful eyes.

“ You are all too kind to me," she said.
here i”

“No, Miss Mabel; he got your letter and went back to
tell your mother that you were safe.”

“ I am glad she is at ease, then,” said Mabel. “ You must
thank this gentleman for my safety ; but for him I might be
lying in the chapparal, lost and starving.”

Many a rough hand was extended, and Brinsley Nelson
found himself very popular with 'a party, who, if they had
known all, would not have been so lavish of their compliments.

“ Is my father

 
—_—.

CHAPTER VIII.
erLAn’s GREAT STRUGGLE.

ZILLAH, after watching the departure of her new friend,
turned back toward the ruined temple ; but hardly had she
gone a hundred feet when there started up before her the ap-
' parition of an armed chief, his savage face gleaming with de-
light. It was Waubena, the Comanche.

“ Stop,” he said, in broken Spanish, learned from his in~
tercourse with the Mexicans. “ A great chief tells you, stay."

“ Who are you .9" cried Zillah, drawing a pistol. “ Back!
I am not a child, to be easily taken, and if you move a step,-
you die.”

“ Wagh i” cried Waubeua. “ The white women have all
turned warriors. ‘ What does Captain W'aubena care for a
Short gun in a weak hand? See, you have the heart of a
brave and are ﬁt to go into the lodge of a great chief.”

“Beware ! My hand is true, and if you advance a single
step, you die.”

Wanbena paused and looked at her threateningly. While
he was as brave as a lion, he had a Wholesome respect for

ﬁrearms, and knew that a chance shot might put an end to
his campaigning forever.

 
.umsmnmhdp.c'ﬂ

 
m m MUSTANG. M

“ Stop, white gir ,” he said. “ What better fate can a wo-
man choose than to be the favorite wife of the King of the
Prairie, Waubena. Put up the short gun, and follow the
, steps of a chief.”

Instead of yielding, she pulled the trigger, and without
waiting for the etfect of the shot, she turned and dashed into
the thick bushes on the right. Waubena put his hand to his
head with a ﬁendish snarl, and the next moment darted after
her. The eﬁ‘ort would have been idle but for an accident,
for of course he had little chance of overtaking the ﬂeet
mustang. But, as he bounded through the bushes, a stout
branch which crossed the path threw her from the saddle, and
she lay stunned and dizzy at the feet of Waubena, who ut-
tered a cry of delight as be seized upon her. But, at that
moment, he was ﬁercely assailed by the mustang, who rushed
at him with open mouth, the foam dropping from his red
tongue and his eyes blazing. Waubena knew what it was to
face a maddened horse, and leaped back, suddenly plunging
into the bushes out of sight, and the mustang turned back to
his prostrate mistress. Twice Wauhena endeavored to ap-
proach, but as often as he did so the mustang rushed at him
with a deﬁant snort, and the Indian ﬂed, bafﬂed, but furiously
angry. After the third attempt he paused, and took his bow
from his back, ﬁtting an arrow to the string, and appeared
again in the open space. The horse dashed at him, and re-
ceived the sharp arrow in his broad chest, driven with all the
force of the mighty bow. Straight and true it sped, and the
black horse, rising upon his hind feet, pawed the air wildly
(or a moment and fell dead beside the mistress he had so
bravely defended. By this time she had regained her feet
and stood there, with another pistol in her hand, pale but
ﬁrm.

“ Coward,” she cried. “You have killed the faithful beast
because he fought for the mistress who had been kind to him,
and you deserve to die a dog‘s death. I am not alone or un—
protected, as you shall ﬁnd to your cost.”

A silver whistle hung at her waist, and raising it to her lips,
she blew a shrill call, while holding her weapon ready for,

him in case he should advance. He started as the shrill note
penetrated the forest, and with the shout of a tiger bmm'ded

 
58 THE mama: QUEEN.

‘ at her. Then he was doomed, for the pistol was leveled
straight and true at his broad breast, but the fall had loosened
the cap upon the weapon, and itdid not explode. Before she
could replace it, the iron grasp of Waubena fastened upon
her.

“ Ha l” he hissed. “ Last sun, one white girl escaped ; you
shall not. Walk the woods.”

Zillah struggled desperately, crying aloud for help, and it
came.
ing that it was useless to attempt to keep his prisoner, Wau-
bena began to feel for his knife. But, before he could draw
it, Mad Tom Western was at his side, and they closed in a
ﬁerce grapple. '

TWO men of giant frame, the struggle was terrible. Jaick
Fenway would have darted in to aid his friend, but he sternly
ordered him back, determined to conquer alone, while
Zillah, exhausted by the struggle, sunk upon the earth, and
watched the battle ﬁxedly. She saw the powerful muscles of
the struggling men standing out like cords beneath their
clolhing as they braced theirlimhs for the throw. But, though
a man of great strength, the Indian had not the skill in wrest-
ling possessed by his antagonist. and scarcely more strength.
Tom Western threw his right leg forward, made a mighty eﬂ'ort,
and the heels of the Indian rose in the air, and he fell with
crashing force upon his head and shoulders, shaking the ground
in his fall, and lay senseless.

“ Whoop l” yelled Jack. “ Cock-a-doodle-doo! Hip-hi-yi
and ad inﬁnitum. You done that trick mighty well, Tom,
and the ha’r is yours."

Waubena lay senseless upon the earth, the blood running
in a little rill from a wound upon his forehead, where the ﬁrst
shot of Zillah had cut the ﬂesh. Western looked down at
him with an inquisitive glance.

“ Unless I am very much mistaken, we have got the big
gun of the Comanehcs, Captain Waubena," he said. “The
question is, what are we to do with him I?"

“ Take him into camp and show him to the boys,” said Jack.
“ With his august permission, I reckon I’ll take a small matter

of a. bitch about his arms, in case he should git rampagerious." 

While Jack was tying the chief, which he did in a very

a

Two men came crashing through the bushes, and see- ‘1

 
eled
med
she
pen

you

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/

A NICXNAME OF HONOR.

lrtistic manner, Western turned to Zillah with his frank
smile.

“ I'm glad we came in time, Miss,” he said. “ The rascal
intended to make you a prisoner, it seems.” ‘

- “ Yes, sirs; you have my hearty thanks for your well-timed
assistance."

“ You will excUSe me if I say I am puzzled to think how a
lady of your appearance should be here at all.”

g “ Never mind that." said Zillah, with a smile. “ It is
enough that you have laid me under a deep obligation, and I
Shall never forget it.» May I ask the favor of your name ?”

“ Thomas Western." I

“ Sometimes called Mad Tom ?”

“ Precisely; that name Will stick to me, no matter where I
go. The next time I meet Jack Hays I’l' lick him for putting
it on me."

“ Your name was not given you as an opprobrious epithet,"
'Ihe said ; “ but as a synonym of all that is brave and daring
in man. I must now bid you good-by."

“ You surely do not mean to wander alone through the
~¢happaral ‘3" said Western.

“I have friends near at hand, and here they are," she said,
as three men, with her brother among them, came hastily from
the bushes, weapons ready for a fray.

“ What does this mean ?” cried Coradi.
men dared insult you ‘3”

“ No, no, brother. So far from that, they have saved me
from the hands of this savage, who had taken me prisoner.”

“ Then they are my friends from this hour,” said Coradi.
extending a hand to each. “ Sirs, I do not know you, but if
the thanks of a man who has none left of all his kindred save

“ Zillah, have these

 
y

 
this girl can avail you, they are heartily yours."

“ You have said enough, sir," said 'Western. “ As your
Sister is in such good hands, we will thank you to attend to our
Prisoner while we bring up our horses.”

“ Certainly," said Coradi, “ though it will be hard work to
keep my hands from him. bound as he is. He seems a power-
ful rascal, and is a chief."

“ It is Waubena," said Zillah, as Jack and Western walked
hastily may, “ the great chief of the Comanchea"

 
I

m PRAIRIE QUEEN.

60

“ Ha,” said Coradi. “ Is it possible that I see that infamous
wretch, whose hand has made the plains red for many years?
Good; he has fallen into the hands of the Texan Rangers, and
they will know how to avenge the injuries he has heaped upon
unhappy Mexico.”

“ Do you know him, brother ?”

“ Know him ? all Mexico knows and fears him. Ten years
ago, with a band of a thousand warriors at his back, he rode into
the streets of Chihuahua, burned and destroyed on every side,
and retreating, carried away with him a hundred of the ﬁrst
citizens, and it was years before they were all redeemed. And
if you had seen the maimed, bleeding and disgraced creatures
who came back—my God, do not let me talk of it, or I shall
go mad, and kill him.”

 
At this moment Jack came riding back, leading the war- '

horse of Waubena by the bridle. They had found him tied
in a thicket not far away. He was closely followed by Wes-
tern, and the two dismounted and signed to Coradi and his
friends to hold the horses. By this time the chief had re-
covered from the stunning effect of his fall, and lay with his
ﬁerce eyes blazing upon Western’s face.

“Get up,” said Mad Tom, quietly.

The Indian rose without a word and looked steadily at the
speaker.

“ What does he say, Jack ?" demanded Western.

“ He wants us to kill him,” replied Jack. “But we ain't
going to do it yit, not ef we know it. Say, you pizen, auda-
cions—looking rapscallion, What do you want to die fur ?”

“ A chief who has been disgraced has no right to live,” re-
plied Waubena.

“0h, climb on that hoss, you critter," replied Jack, indig-
nantly. “ Now do it, and do it quick.”

Waubena obeyed, assisted by Tom Western, for his hands
were still tightly bound, and they passed a lariat through the
ring in the mustang’s bit, and each fastened an end to his
saddle-bow. Then with a hearty farewell to Coradi and his
companions, they rode out of the chapparal and started to-
ward the Rangers’ camp.

“ I don’t envy that Indian his chances with the Rangers,"

Nd Coradi. “ They will tear him limb from limb. Let usﬂ ’

4

Then he muttered something in the Indian tongue. ‘

 
an

4

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go back to the temple, Zillah, and as quickly 'as we can.
And let me say to you that you must ramble alone no more
while the Comanches remain in this region.”

Meanwhile the two Rangers rode across the plain, with their
prisoner between them, his feet tied fast under the horse’s
belly, and his hands behind him. Each of his captors carried
his riﬂe upon the saddle-bow ready for use at a moment’s
warning, and the precaution was necessary, for hardly had
they made their appearance upon the plain, when they heard

3 the'well-known Comanche yell, and saw the band of Waubena

pouring down from the ridge above.

“I thought so,” said Western, coolly.
face the prisoner toward them.”

They rode closer to the prisoner, and as the band drew
nigh they reooiled again in terror at the fearful jeopard of
their chief. There sat the two Rangers, a little behind him,
their deadly riﬂes nearly touching his person, ready in case
the band advanced to send him to eternity.

“Speak to them, Waubena,” cried Jack.

“ Steady, Jack ;

“ Tell them that

if they come a step nearer, you are a (lead man."

Waubena looked on either side, but at each point he saw
the brown muzzle of a riﬂe looking at him, wailing only the
signal of assault upon the part of. his men to pour their con-
tents into his body. Captain Waubena was a brave man, but
even he was not proof against that, and he shouted to his
men to keep back. They obeyed, falling back out of short
riﬂe range, and the Rangers rode on with their prisoner. The
Indians followed cautiously, in agony at the danger of their
chief, whom they idolized for his known power and desperate
bravery. Thrice in the course of an hour the Rangers were
compelled to pause, and threaten death to Waubena, but the
Indians made no attack. The chief tried to muster courage
to dare death and meet it for the sake of having these men
die by the agonies of Indian torture, but a look at the riﬂes
restrained him, and he kept quiet until he saw in front the
Rangers camped by ‘the three trees, and he called to his men
to save him at all hazards. Then Jack and Western goaded
his mustang with their knife-points, and he sprung away, bear-
ing his master into the 'very center of the Rangers’ camp.
Up sprung the Texans, riﬂes in han‘d, and gave the Indians 3

 
TEE PRAIRIE QU KEN.

volley, but they did not wait for the charge. Without Wau- 

bena at their head they were nothing in the hands of the res- -

olute Texans, and the last feathered head-dress disappeared ‘
beyond the ﬁrst roll of the prairie before the Rangers could i
mount, when they were recalled by the stentorian voice of
Western.

‘ “ Come back,- all of you.
easy to get the rest.”

The Rangers, accustomed to ﬁght on their own hook, yet 
readily obeyed the voice of their leader, and came tronping
hack, surrounding the great chief with angry cries. Not one
among them but had suffered losses at the hands of the Co-
manches, and no chief had led them oftener than the renowned
Captain Wauhena. In imminent danger, he sat smiling
grimly, looking at his captors, and daring them to do their
worst. It was with the utmost difﬁculty that Western and Jack
restrained them from cutting him down on the spot, and this
was what the savage leader seemed to invite, for he taunted -
them in no measured words as cowards and fools, until they l
Were almost frantic, and half a dozen riﬂes were leveled at i
his heart. 

“ Down with your riﬂes, lads,” cried Western. “ Don't I

you see that you are doing just what the scoundrel wants t” I
The riﬂes were lowered sullenly and reluctantly, andthe i
owners looked at him for an explanation. i
“ Sudden death is the best fate this Comanche can expect ; i
you agree to that do you not?” he said. I I,
“ Yes; it’s too good for him, that‘s a. fact," said one of the S

We have the chief; it will be ‘

most forward among the Rangers.

“ That is what he is ﬁshing for,” said Mad Tom. “ Now
don’t humor him, and it will cut him to the heart more quickly
than a dozen riﬂe bulls could do. He has a great deal to an-
SWCI‘ for, and he can’t do it in a moment. He belongs to us
of course, and we will deal with him as we see ﬁt, but he must
not die yet.”

“ All right, Mad Tom,” said one of the ringleader-s, unlock-
ing his rifle. “ You know best.”

“ Then take him oﬂ‘ the horse and tie him to that tree." _
.The men obeyed, and the chief, who was frowning angrily
because he had not incensed his enemies to give him the

 
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death he coveted. was unbound from the horse only to be tied
fast to the tree. At this moment Mabel, who had been hur-
ried to the rear under guard at the ﬁrst- prospect of a ﬁght,
was brought back, and started as she saw in the prisoner the
chief from whom she had escaped in the woods.

“ You know the critier, don’t you, little gal?” said Jack.
“Come over liyar. This is Mad Tom Western, the likeliest
boy on the boundless plains of the \Vest. Miss Mabel—”

The two looked at one another in mutual surprise, and
Mabel extended her hand eagerly.

“ Is it possible!” she said. “ You. here ?"

They had met at last, for Tom Western was the man who
had saved Mabel from the ﬂames on that fearful night in New
Orleans, and for the ﬁrst time they looked into each other‘s
faces since that hour.

 
CHAPTER IX.
BEWARE!

“ WHAT l” roared Jack. “ Do you know one another then,
srter all ?”

“I ought to know this gentleman,” said Mabel, “since he
saved my life, and never gave me an opportunity of thanking
him."

“ It was rather impolite in me to cut away as I did," said
Western, ﬂushing vividly, “ but to tell the truth, I don’t like
to be thanked for something any man ought to do. There;
don’t say any thing about it.”

“ Has my father seen you 2/" she asked.

“ Yes, Miss Dunham."

“ And did you recognize him '3"

" I did, but I did not want him to recognize me, so I kept
quiet. He has looked at me in a puzzled way a number of
times, but I put all the brass I had into my face, and he gave
it u .”

“pOh, blame my cats of you hadn’t orter be licked, Tom
Western," said Jack. “You never told me that you know’d
any thing about our Mabel, and I don’t take it friendly, I

m“.” V

 
04 m mm Qumran.

“ Never mind that now, Jack. There is work before us,
and the quicker we do our work the better. Boys, you all
have some private revenge to work upon the Comanches, but
not one among you has so deep an interest as I. Of all the
dearest loved ones of my father's house, I am the only one
spared by their merciless hands. Knowing this, you will un-
derstand that it is not from love for the race that I ask you to
keep the chief awhile, as a hold upon his tribe. As long as
he is in our hands, they dare not do us any harm, for they
know that the ﬁrst blow they strike will be a signal for the
death of Waubena. Think what a terrible power we re.
taih by keeping him alive, and that we only arouse them to
new acts of vengeance by slaying him now. What do you
my ?l)

“ Keep him,” was the unanimous response.
right, Mad Tom.”

“Then mount and away.
us ?”

“As far as Dunham’s place.
the ranche."

“ All right ; we shall be glad of your company. Dick
Dempsey, a word with you, if you please."

The two rode apart, and laying a hand upon the knee of
the dark-brewed Ranger, Western looked steadily into his face.
Each read in the eyes of the other unconquerable hatred, for
the knowledge that each loved the same woman had sprung
up between them. Western spoke but one word :

“ Beware l”

Dempsey made no reply, and signing to him to take his
place in the ranks, Mad Tom rode to the head 0f the column,
and they started for Dunham’s. Mabel rode by the side of the
leader, and Brinsley Nelson just behind them, watching them
intently. He saw a new complication, one of which he had
not thought, and his busy brain was at work. They reached
Dunham’s at nightfall, and Mabel was in the arms of her
mother.

Who shall tell of the wild endearments of that meeting!
The stout Rangers turned their heads aside, and even the cold.
blooded Nelson was touched. When the greeting was over,

“ You are allus
Mr. Nelson, do you ride with

I wish to see the master of

ind Mabel was standing with one hand locked in her father’s

 
om) ACQUAINTAXOES. ' 05

and the other about her mother’s neck, she turned to Nelson,
and called to him to approach.

“ This is the gentleman to whom you are indebted for my
safety. Mr. Nelson—”

She paused in dismay, for she saw her mother‘s face turn
white, while her father cast one horriﬁed look at the immova-
ble countenance of Nelson, and sprung forward with uplifted
hand. ’

“ You here, Brinsley ; have you dared i"

“ Gently, gently, old friend," said Nelson.
are not alone." '

Nelson’s eyes had a strange glitter, and Dunhem retired,
looking at him wildly.

“ Come into the house, Walter," he said, coolly. “ I have
a few words to say to you. Mr. Dempsey, will you be so
kind as to hold my horse ?"

He dropped his bridle into the hands of the Irishman, and
followed Dunham into the house. Once inside the expression
of his face changed, and he turned savagely upon the older
man.

“ How dare you meet me in this manner, Walter Dunham?
You know, or ought to know, if the light of reason has not
entirely deserted you, that you have greater cause to fear me
than I have to dread any thing you can do."

“ Why have you sought me out ‘9” moaned Dunham. “I
had thought to bury myself in this wild region, out of the
reach of all who had ever known me, and make atonement
for the past.”

“ I did not seek you here.

“ Remember, we

No one could be more sur-

‘prised than I was when I met your daughter wandering

through the chapparal alone, and she told me her name. I
demand from you, in the name of the past, that you receive
me as a friend into your household, to come and go as I
will.”

“ We can never be friends, sir.”

“ I am aware of that, but we can put on the outward seem-
ing of friends. Do you agree to this ?”

“ I must; but why should we not separate again, and meet
[no more upon earth 1’” ,

“ Because I do not choose so to do. You and I have still

 
I

66 THE manna QUEEN.

some interests in common, and what they are you shall know no
in due season.” lot
“ Your presence will be too much for my wife to endure.”
“ She must get over that foolish feeling. Go to her “ 1
when you have the opportunity and tell her that only upon D

this condition Will I refrain from crushing you to the earth.
I have only to go outside and put the papers in my posses~

sion into the hands of Tom Western and he will be obliged ft

to arrest you.” p
“ I will speak to my wife," said Dunham, “ but I had ti

hoped never to see your wicked face again. You know, none

so well as you, how circumstances conspired against me in t

that fearful hour, and He to whom the secrets of every heart
are known is aware that I have repented my hasty act, in un-
availing tears.” l

“Prove that before a. jury. Do you promise, or must I i
use the power in my hands ?” -

“ I promise."

“ Enough; go out and bid your friends welcome, but let
me advise you to beware of Dick Dempsey. He loves your
daughter, and would do any thing to make her his wife.”

' “ That scoundrel? How dare he aspire so high ‘3"

“ This is a strange country, my worthy friend,” said Nel-
son, with a light laugh. “ If our good friend Dick knew all,
he might say that you were no better than himself.”

“ You will drive me mad if you do not take your face out
of my sight, at. least for a time. How your hate has followed
me for the last ﬁve years i"

“ You mistake me utterly, my good friend. I do not hate
you, although it is through you that I am what I am. It
was in your power to mold me as clay in your hands;
but, for a fault less than your own, you drove me out from
among men, and made me an outcast, with a price upon my
head.”

“If I fall, so must you."

“ Hardly; I have proofs, and you have not Do not waste
your time in useless words, Walter, but do as I tell you."

When Walter Dunham came out of the house, after this
interview, it seemed as if twenty years had been added to his”
we. Hrs. Dunham came to him, but he made asignal to he!

 
.e. ll
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some GENTLE nnmnnans. ,6?

not to speak, and she went into the house, with a lingering
look at his pale face.

“ Mr. Dunham and myself are old friends,” said Nelson,
“ and meeting me so unexpectedly hasquite unmanned him.
Do you intend to camp in this vicinity, Mr. Western ‘3"

“Yes; we camp in the bend, two miles below.”

“ You don’t intend to leave the vicinity of Dunham Ranche
for the present,” said Nelson, 1aughing,.although a shadow
passed over his face directly after. “ Where do you propose
to leave your prisoner?”

“ We take him with us. Mr. Dunham, we shall be forced
to lay you under contribution now and then for beef, but we
shall be willing to pay for any thing we use.”

f‘Any thing I have is at your service, Mr. Western,” said
Dunham. “ My daughter has whispered a secret in my ear,
that you are the young man I have vainly sought since that
ﬁre in New Orleans. I .beg that you will make my house
your home while you remain in this section.”

“Thank you; after I have made my camp Iwill return, as -
I wish to see more of you. Do you intend to stay over night,
Mr. Nelson ‘8”

“ I believe so; the plains are hardly safe."

“ Would you be so kind as to step aside a moment? I have
something to tell you.”

The two men walked a few hundred yards together and
stopped. ,

“I don’t say much to you, Nelson," said Mad Tom,‘ “ and
you know why. May I ask what trick you are up to now?"

“ You may ask," replied Nelson, with a sneer. ‘

“And you Will not tell me?”

“ You fathom my meaning to a nicety, friend Tom. Now
look here; you attend to your business and I will attend to
mine.”

“ That is exactly what I am going to do, Nelson, but un-
fortunately our vocations seem to join issue at this point. I
am a reader of human faces, and I know that you hold
some power over Mr. Dunham which you mean to use to his
hurt."

“ Is that so ?” said Nelson, with his malicious laugh

 “ Why will you be so ridiculous as to interfere with some-

 
as THE mums QUEER.

thing which does not in any way concern you, Tom? If I
have a power over this Walter Dunham, you at least have no-
thing to do with it.” '

“Nothing beyond this, that, if you do any injury to this
family I will break every bone in your body," replied Western
coolly. ‘

“ You will ?"

“ I said so, and I will keep my word. Now, don’t attempt
to draw a pistol on me, for if you do I will hit you, and if I
hit you the rope that is spinning for you will be wasted.”

“ Curse you, I will have a bloody revenge for this.”
> “ All right, Nelson. Nothing against that if you can get

‘ it, but in the mean time I mightbe busy. I have taken an in-
terest in this family, and you know me. I thought it best to
warn you."

“ I defy you.”

“ All right again; defy me if you choose, but do you know
that I’ve got a triﬂing hold upon you .9"

“ Nonsense."

“ Let me whisper a secret in your ear.”

He bent his head. and whispered a sentence in the ear of
Nelson, who staggered back, glaring at him with wildly-dilor
ting eyes. Taken by surprise, the mask of icy stoicism he
usually were had fallen off, and the deadly terror which had
taken possession of him showed itself in his face.

“ Laughable to think of, friend Nelson,” said Western, in
the same quiet tone, “ but apt to tell against you if the worst
comes to the worst. Just. bear this in mind, will you, and to«
morrow morning take yourself away.”

Nelson made no reply, but his eyes gleamed with deadly
hate.

“By the way, you had better take Dick Dempsey when you
go, for if he remains after you leave I shall be obliged to
hang him.”

“ What do I know of Dick Dempsey?” blustered Nelson.

“ What do you know of him? 'Eush, man; don’t be fool-
ish. Who came to you in the chapparal and wanted you to
keep Miss Dunham for him? I don‘t want any spies among ,
my Rangers, so carry him with you, or he shall hang." ,

“ You seem to know a great deal about my business."

 
A yum-menu men. 69

G‘I’ll make it more my business if you trouble my friends.
I am coming up here to-night, and will see you again." '

Nelson turned hurriedly away, and as he passed Dempsey
managed to whisper a word in his ear. The Irishman nod-
ded in reply, and the next moment the Word for march was
given, and the band rode away along the river-bank, with the
towering form of Mad Tom at their head. After a short ride
they pitched their camp in the bend, and Dempsey, when his
horse was safely picketed, came to Jack Fenway and asked
permission to go up to the ranche to see a Mexican stoekman,
whom he knew, and Jack gave him the permission required
Hardly was he out of the camp when Jack called to Buttrick,
and gave him a whispered order, and shortly after the scout
left camp, taking the same course with Dempsey. Jack then
went to Western and told him what he had done.

“Very well, Jack; you have done right. Now see that
the Indian is properly secured, for it will not do to let him
get loose.”

“ I'll make a spread-eagle ot' the red cuss,” said Jack. “He
won’t git away from my hitch, I tell you."

He hurried away, and calling two of his companions, they
hastened to secure the Indian for the night. He was laid ﬂat
upon his face, with a strong Iariat conﬁning his hands and
feet. Another lariat was fastened to each wrist and ankle,
leading to four small trees which grew nearly at the angles
of a square about the spot where they had laid him down.
These were tightly fastened to the trees, and it was impossi-
ble for the prisoner to move in the least.

“Thar,” said Jack. “ I don’t reckon you‘ll git away this
night. Jim Davidson, and Kit Stanley, you two git your riﬂes
and stand over him. If he stirs, give him one.”

Buttrick was gone but a few moments, and then came back
and had an interview with Mad Tom. Directly after, the
young leader rode out alone, but he disposed his weapons, in
such shape that they were ready for use at a moment's warning.
He rode at a slow trot, his keen eyes flashing from side to side,
in evident expectation of danger. He had not trusted in vain,
for as he passed through a wood, four dark forms sprung up
before him. If they had taken him by surprise he must have
{me down, but his pistols cracked before they had time to

V. ,

  
V 70 um rmmm QUEEN.

t.

show themselves fairly, and his eye did not fail him. The \‘

two at whom he ﬁred rolled to the earth and did not stir, but
the others sprung at him with gleaming knives. Reining his
horse backward until he lay almost on his haunches, he wheeled
him in such a way that when the iron hoofs descended they
crushed the foremost assailant to the earth, while at the same
time the strong right-hand of the rider shot out, and grasped
the last asmilant by the throat with such fell force, that the
larynx seemed to crack under his iron ﬁngers, and the next
moment he lay helpless across the saddle of the Ranger, un.
able to move. For the ﬁrst time the young man shouted, and
Jack Fenway and Buttrick came up, panting heavily.

“ Have you got the lantern, Jack I?” said Mad 'l‘om, coolly.

Jack produced a small lantern with a slide, and opening it,
threw its light upon the face of the prisoner. It was Dick
Dempsey, the traitorous Ranger.

CHAPTER X.

YAN’l‘lC AT 1113 TRICKS.

“BUTTRICK was right,” said Mad Tom, quietly, allowing
the almost senseless form of his enemy to slide from the saddle
“ Tie him up, boys.“

“ Don’t you think it would save time to tie the rope round
his neck instead of his arms ?” said Jack. “The boys will
hang him, sartin sure, and they won’t tie half so genteel a
knot as we will, I’m sure."

“Don’t talk that way Jack," whined the traitor, who was
cowed at the near approach of death. “ I was led into this
yer, I was indeet .”

“Like enuﬂ'; you kain’t tell us any thing about it. Why,
Lord love ye, Ned Butt-rick, hyar, followed every step you
took to-night, and see you set the ambush on Mad Tom, and

, he know’d whar you was jest as well as you did."
. “ Why didn’t I use the riﬂe ?” moaned Dempsey.
have tumbled him easy.”
‘f You didn’t want to make a row, and trusted too much to,
“16 Growers. Give me belt of that rope, Ned, Evcuse mo

“ I could

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\i if I tie your feet rayther tight, but, seeh is life-«sech is life.
 T’other foot, please; that’s the ticket. Hold up yer hands
now, and turn yer wrist 'a triﬂe to the right. Now you feel,
as easy as a pocket in a- shirt, don’t you? No more trouble,
for you till the boys tuck you up to a swinging limb, which
they’ll do at sun-up, sure.” ‘
“ You don‘t mean it, Jack. You wouldn’t hang me ; I’m
too useful." _ '
J“ You ain't useful enuil‘ to keep. I’m afraid you’d spile ef
we tried it on. Bring up the hoss, Net .” ,
Buttrick hurried away and soon appeared, leading a horse
from the thicket, upon which the prisoner was mounted.
With both limbs on the same side of the horse, and with But-
trick leading the animal and Jack walking by his side, they
started on their return. , _
Mad Tom rode up to Dunhaui’s, gave his horse to a boy, .
and was shown into the house, where he found Brinsley Nel—
son making himself quite at home, while both Dunham and
his wife looked downeast and uneasy, and Mabel, not under-
standing the eause of their distress, also felt its inﬂuence. ‘
Nelson looked quickly at his enemymfor such he now
knew the Ranger to be—and saw that he had heen engaged
in’a struggle. His hunting-coat and shirt were torn open, re—
vealing his muscular breast, and there were spots of blood
. ,upon his garments.
, “ I beg your pardon for not coming sooner, Mr. Dunham,"
“he said, “ but I met some fellows upon the road who occu-
pied u portion of my time unavoidably, and that must be my j
eXeuse.”
“ \Vhich is Mad Tom Western‘s way of saying that he has
, been in a ﬁght," said Nelson, gayly. “ Is it not so, most puis-
/ sant ranger?" ' ‘
“ Something like it. By the way, Mr. Dunham, I believe
[you must get another stoekman, for your Mexican Gondo will
i, not be able to serve.”
“ What do you mean ?"
“ Simply that he was/one of a party of four who attempted "
. to murder me while on'my way here, and he is dead.” .
‘ Mabel uttered an involuntary cry of horror, and Mrs. Duly
 ,1 him turned her/pale face inquirineg toward the speaker“

 
7' which he had done, and forced him to ﬂy the State.

. as to drive me from my native city to this place.

THE PRAIRIE QUEEN.

“' You are not hurt ‘1’” cried Mabel, eagerly, coming toward
him.

“ Not in the least, although I am hardly in proper attire to
make a visit to ladies. I will thank you if you will show
me where I can wash my hands, Mr. Dunharn.”

“Come this way,” said Dunham, leading the way to the
back of the house, through which they passed into a small
shed, Where there was a washstand and basin.”

“ Come a little nearer, Mr. Dunham, and be so kind as to
speak low. _ What do you know of that man inside?”

“ I know him to be a cold-blooded, heartless man, one who
has made my life a burden to me." -

“ Yes; I was satisﬁed that he was persecuting you, and so‘

' I told him this afternoon.”

,“ He told you nothing?” screamed Dunham, turning pale.

“ Hushl Do you want to bring him out upon us? He
told me nothing, of course, and I did not expect him to do
so. I am satisﬁed that he sent those men to murder me, this ,
very night.”

” But you can not prove it ?”

“ No, but I know enough of him to be able to drive him

r out of Texas, and I will do it, if that is your desire.”

“Nothing would make me so happy, Mr. Western. I de-
sire to forget the past, and be a new man. I have never done /
any man an intentional wrong, but for all that I am in this
man’s power.”

“ Leave it to me, and for the present treat him well and do
not let him see that his presenee is very obnoxious to you,
or he may strike before the time. Have you ever injured

him ‘1’”

Several years ago I exposed a criminal act
Since ‘
that time he has labored to destroy me, and succeeded so far
Do not A

“ He says so.

ask me how it was done, for I dare not tell you."

5‘ Enough; let us go in, and give no hint that you how.
spoken to me." v

As they came in Nelson looked suspiciously at Dunham, but

‘ his face told them nothing, and he took his seat at the table
with a brighter look than he had worn 'for some time.

 
A' MAN OF NERVE.
_ V

“ Let us have the cards, Mabel,” he said, geyly. “ I have
no doubt the gentlemen would like a game at whist."

“ With all my heart,” said Nelson, drawing his chair nearer
the table. “ Miss Mabel, will you be my partner ?”

“ With‘ measure,” said Mabel, “ after Mr. Western has sat-
isﬁed me with regard to this infamous attack upon him. Did
the men intend to rob you ?" ‘

“ They would hardly make much at that game,” said Wes- f
tern, laughing. “ I gave about all the money Ihad to that de-
formed boy who brought your letter.”

“ Yantic reaped a rich harvest that day. He informs me
that he had nearly two hundred dollars,” said Nelson. ‘

“ The boys were inclined to be generous, and gave freely
for news of Miss Mabel," said W’estern. “ In regard to this
attack, I think personal revenge had something to do with it,
for the leader was a man of my own party who has, for some '
unknown cause, begun to hate me. You know him—Richard
Dempsey.”

“ Ha !" said Nelson, “is the fellow dead, then ?"

“ No, I sent him a. prisoner to camp. Shall I deal? Cut
the cards.”

Nelson cut, and Western began to deal, apparently in-
tensely interested in the game, but in reality watching Nel~
Ion closely.

“ Perhaps you can get something out of your prisoner ?"

“ No doubt of it. From what he said I am inclined to be-
lieve that he will tell any thing I ask him, to save his life.

I would set him at liberty if he would give me the name of
the person who set him on, and witness against him.”

Nelson wan on sorting his cards coolly, as if the conversa-
tion had only ordinary interest for him, and \Vestern felt an
involuntary admiration ‘for his pluck.

“That man has nerve," he muttered. “What a man he
might make if he would turn his talents in the right diretr
tion I” _

, “ The Rangers would make short work of that person, I '
Tsuppo‘se ?" said he, quietly.
“ They would hang him on the ﬁrst tree.”
. » “I hope you will get the rascal,” said Nelson. “I play ‘
 hug." ' ’ r V

 
as

4

!
THE PRAIRIE QUEEN.

~Western changed the subject, for he had fathomed his
man, and knew that he had no ordinary person to deal
with. Whilerthe game goes on let us return to the Rangers’
camp and see how it fared with the captive chief and Dick
Dempsey. ,

The traitorhad been laid upon the earth, close to the chief,
who did not turn his head at his approach. The guards, who
Were better at ﬁghting than watching, kept up bravely until
after twelve, by the aid of their pipes and frontier stories;
then-they began to nod. Dick Dempsey, lying upon his back

' and looking at the moon, heard the faint chirp of a‘squirrel

overhead, and looked up and saw the face of Yantic, looking
down upon him from a tree, and his heart gave a great leap
at the thought that he might yet escape from the danger
which threatened him. Yantic having attracted his attention,
again concealed himself amid the leaves, and all was silent

, The guards dropped asleep, one by one, until every man was

lopked in slumber. It was well' for Dempsey that neither
Fenway nor Ned Buttrick had hinted at his crime, or he
‘might have been pendent upon one of the branches ovorhead
instead of remaining in captivity. He knew his quondam
companions too well to expect any mercy at their hands, and
his only hope was escape. He lay at the foot of the tree, in
a half-reclining posture, his hands and feet bound, and his

body fastened to the tree by means of a stout luriat, passed .,

about it, and then around the tree. Soon after the appear-
ance of Yantic he was conscious that the rope around the tree

was loose, and he swayed his body outward, showing his '

bound hands, Yantic had fastened a bowie to an elastic pole,
and reaching down, managed to cut the cords upon the hands
of the prisoner. The next moment the bowie was dropped
point downward, sticking in the soft earth close to Dempsey’s
thigh. A He did not move his hands until satisﬁed that the
'guards were asleep, and then, passing his right hand under
his leg, be freed his limbs from the incumbrance by a single
sharp out. Even now he did not move, for one of the guards
stirred uneasily, and a moment after raised his head, and
began to ﬁll his pipe, casting a cursory glance 'at Dempsey

' ‘nﬁd "the Indian. To all appearance they remained bound as“

before) for Dempsey had taken, the precaution to pm "Hi! , ,

| f

r I

 
/

   
/

SEVERED TIES.

hands behind him, and lie down again. He had not yet
thrown off the several lariats from his feet, and if the guard
should content himself with a distant examination, all might
yet be well. But, Dempsey grasped the heavy bowie, fully

 determined, if detected, to strike the guard to the heart and
make his escape.

The man half rose, and looked closely at
the Indian, and seemed about to do the same with Dempsey,
and the fellow was gathering himself for the fatal blow, when
the indolence of the Ranger saved him, for he sat down again,
and smoked placidly for ﬁfteen minutes. At the end of that
time he knocked the ashes from his pipe, and drawing his
blanket under his head, lay down and fell asleep. Dempsey
now began to look about him, and the natural evil in his na-
ture showed itself, for he thought what mischief he could .do ,
without endangering himself. What could he do more than
set the captive chief at liberty? ‘

The Indian lay almost within reach of his hand. Raising /

himself slowly he cut the two lariats which led to the trees
from the feet of the warrior, and the slight strain caused the
Indian to turn his head a little, and at a single glance he
'comprehended all, and did not move, but watched his un-
known friend quietly. He felt the cords upon his feet and
hands severed, and knew that he was free, but lay quiet, wait-
ing for the blood to come back into his benumbed limbs.
Dempsey arose and glided behind the tree, and directly after,
Yanti‘c was by his side. He suffered the deformed lad to lead
the'way, and they stole out of the camp, crossed the belt of
woods and reached a place Where two horses stood saddled,
Waiting for them. They had hardly gained the saddle, when
a wild, blood-curdling shout was heard, and the confused ‘
trampling of horses, and directly a mob of terriﬁed mustangs
swept by them, like the wind, and close behind them, moun-
ted upon a strong bay, which was the favorite steed of Jack
Fenway, came the redoubtable chief, goading the horse with a'
broken branch of mesquit. ‘
“ Follow l” he cried in Spanish, and the three bounded
across thaplain toward the river, going at the best pace of

,_.th_eir horses. They heard the angry cries of the Rangers and

.;a Babel of human voices, and the countenance of the gran

- , chic! 'lit.up soyfully, _ ' '

’15“

     
\

 
/

   
76’

, cut.

   
THE PRAIRIE QUEEN.

“ Ha I” he cried. “The Rangers are dogs.
my White brothers the way to safety.”

They plunged together into the roaring stream and gained
the other shore, and rode swiftly away at some distance from
the bank, across the boundless plain.

Let me show

 
CHAPTER XI.
m1) Tom’s ARGUMENT.

THE shouts of the Rangers had a reason in them, for the
chief had done much mischief before he took to ﬂight. He
had crept into the center of the corral of horses, picked out
the best one, and slampeded the rest, leaving the Rangers ut-
terly unable to follow him. Curses both loud and deep were
heard, as the men ran, half frantic, to and fro, looking for
their animals. Some only ran a short distance, and were
quickly recovered, but, even then, pursuit was hopeless before
morning, and by that time they knew that the fugitives would
put many miles of prairie between them and the camp, and
in all probability safely join the hand of Waubena.

“ I never was so beat in my life,” said Jack. “ How the
devil did they git out of the hitch we put them in? Jim,
you’ve been asleep.”

“ I I” roared the guard, indignantly, oblivious to the fact
that he had been snoring for the last hour. “ I never slept a
wink.” _

“ Mighty likely," said J aek. “ You see these ropes hev been
Now, I know that neither of the pris‘ners bed a knife.”

“ Don’t make no (litl’runce,” cried Jim, dogmatieally. “ I
Wasn’t asleep, and I looked at the Injin half an hour ago.”

“ Yes, and was he tied?” ’ '

“ Tighter than tightness.”

“It’s 'a mighty queer thingrkain’t say 'I understand it.
Jim, git yer hoss and ride up to the ranehe and tell the cap-
t’in. The rest of you scatter and ﬁnd the hosses.”

Those who were mounted were soon scampering in every
“faction across the plains, picking up the scattered horsel'
wherever they could? be found. It was three o’clock in the

47

I

 
roomm. I ‘ '77

morning before all were collected, and even then, one was
missing—the bay which had been conﬁscated for the use of
the chief.

“ Now you mark my words,” roared Jack ; “that cussid
Injin hez got my boss.”

“ Shouldn‘t wonder,” said Jim. “ The old bay was a likely
beast, and wont be Waubena wanted a good ’un.”

“ Orter hev yer ha’r raised, by gracious,” said Jack. “ Ola,
why didn’t we trick that Injin up when we had him? See
hyar: ef he's got my boss I’ll hev his sculp, of I go to the
Comanche village to git it; you hear me.”

The game at the ranche was kept up to quite a late hour,

and was broken up by Mabel rising and begging to be excused,
,3 while she looked after the rooms of their guests. Soon after
5 they retired to rest, but two persons at least did not sleep.
, These were Tom Western and Nelson. Mad Tom was well
w assured that Nelson would not leave Dempsey in captivity if
he could aid him, and he was glad that the strange man was
put into the next room, where his slightest'movement could
be heard. To the surprise of Western he retired at once, and
his heavy breathing could be distinctly heard, as the windows
were open, and hardly two feet apart.

“ It looks as if he didn't mean to do any thing,” said Tom
to himself, “ but I won’t give it up yet.”

He sat for over an hour, and at last gave up the idea of
watching longer, but lay down upon the outside of the bed,
without removing any of his clothing, so as to be ready to start
up at a moment’s warning. He was asleep before he was
aware; and had slept ashort time, when he awoke with a start,
and listened. The heavy breathing of Nelson was no longer
audible. '

I “ Fooled l" he hissed, springing to the open Window. “ The

r: , acoundrel is off."

‘5" The rooin was on the ground ﬂoor, and stepping cautiously ‘

" out upon the grass, he looked into the window of Nelson’s

. T, chamber. As he expected, it was vacant, and the bird ﬂown.

- I. ,7 There Was nothing for it but to wait for, his return, and so he '

; .» lit a cigar and seated himself at the windowfwherc he could
-' \ﬁee any one who approached. ' Not long after, Nelson came

¢

 
THE PRAIRIE QUEER.

sauntering slowly toward the window, smoking placidly, and
was about to enter his window, when Western bent forward
and spoke :

“ Been out on a little excursion, eh ?”

. “Oh, are you awake too? Yes, I found that I could not
’ sleep very well, and so I took a stroll and a eigan Will you
allow me to come into your room ?” said Nelson, coolly. \

“ If you please.” \

“ Thank yqu ; I believe I will. I must talk to some one,
and why not to you? I know you were a. triﬂe hard on me

[this afternoon, but I’ll overlook that." ,

He stepped into the room, took a chair, and smoked in in-‘ t
dolent ease, blowing spiral wreaths of smoke from his mouth
from time to time.

“You are a magniﬁcent rascal,” thought Tom. “ Can I I .
match you, I wonder ?” '

“ Did you ever see a more beautiful womanthan Miss Me-
bel ‘1’” said Nelson. “ Bah, you rascal, you are sweet on herI
,you know you are."

’ “ She is a beautiful girl,” replied Tom ; “ and what ismore,
a good and pure woman.”

“ Pity her father should not be exactly on the same pattern,”
said Nelson. “ But for that, she might make any match she
chose. But, we ought not to visit the sins of the father upon
the children, I suﬂpose.”

“ You will go too far yet," muttered Tom, setting his teeth ‘ .
hard. 1 '\

“ Oh, as to that, you and I know each other pretty well.
There is no great love lost, and why attempt to conceal it?
You have doubted that I have any hold upon Mr. Dunham,

'\ and you took him into the wash-room this evening to warn
him, against me.”

“One can’t help admiring this scoundrel,” thought Tom.

I “ He has a long heat .” ,\ -- '
' “You need not apologize,” said Nelson. “ I have also
Warned him against you, so that we are even. I believe you
have some idea of making Miss Mabel your wife ‘2” -

, “ What is that to you ‘2” ’

. ..’ “ A great deal. I propose to marry the lady myself, oven
thinking her father‘s failings." . r * '

~\

 
\‘

     
l-r, ,.‘

:7 Line to it, Look you ; today you threatenedme if I did 1305 _, ,

‘THE moors.

  
“ You 1”

“ Now keep quiet, please.
like, it is seeing a man in a passion.

“ I will twist your head behind you.”

“ I object, but let that pass. I have come here to prove to
you that I was right with regard to our friend, Dunham, and
if you will be so kind as to light that lamp, I will show you
the papers.”

Tom complied, and the man took out a large pocket-book,
from which he extracted two or .nree newspaper slips, which
be sorted in; his hand while the lamp was being lighted. V

“ Be so good as to read these papers carefully, and give mo,‘ '- 1
your opinion upon them. Take them in the order in which
they are numbered—one, two, three.” '

V‘Vestern took the papers, and put them before him, reading
them carefully in the order named. Once or twice he looked
at the immovable face of the man beside him, who satipuﬂing
at his cigar, and waiting for Western to ﬁnish.

‘t You have read them. New, I ask you plainly, have 1"
a case against the man whose name is mentioned here l’" 7 -.

“ If the man is guilty—” ‘

“ ‘ If ’ ; you have not read the papers carefully.”

“ The evidence is circumstantial, and was acted upon by an
irresponsible mob. The man mentioned here may be a villain,
or a deeply injured and innocent person.”

“ Thatis your opinion ‘1"

“ That is my opinion." ‘

“ Another question; suppose I were to show these choice

, extracts to the Rangers, do you think that even your power V
could keep them from hanging the‘ perpetrator of this crime ‘3":

H No.”

“ Then I have made my case. Walter Dunham is that man,
‘,who hustled from his native State under the shadow of his

\ ', horrible guilt, this deed without a name, escaping the righteous
justice of his fellow-townsmen almost by a miracle. Do you
think this man dare refuse me any thing?” '

Western was silent, and his noble face worked strangely.
“ it can not be true,” he said, hoarsely.
" It is true, by heaven, and I will prove it so, if you force ‘>

If there is any thing I do dis-
Now don’t do it.” ; ’

\Z

/ i

’ (

THE PRAIRIE QUEEN.

' leave this place, but I know that your love for Mabel Dun-
ham is stronger than your sense of justice. I desire to spare
this guilty man if it can be done, but if he is obdurate, I will
betray him. As for you, let me see you dare approach the
woman I have chosen, and her father is doomed.”

' Western sat speechless, looking at the face of the speaker. .
“ The girl does not care for you,” he said, at last.
“ Perhaps not now; but, I can give her good reasons to
give me her love.” ‘
“If you dare to persecute her, remember that we are in
3 Texas, and that your life is of short duration.”
‘ “ You dare not move; I am satisﬁed of that.”

t“ We shall see. I will unravel this tissue of falsehood. and
make the name of Walter Dunham clear in the eyes ofiall
men. When you ask me to believe that this man who has the
» face of a. saint, could by any possibility be guilty of this
shameful crime, I tell you to your face that you lie.”
“ You shall see, you shall see.”
“ And now leave my room, or I will throw you out of the

window.”

“ Give me my papers and I will go."

“Not at all; I will keep these pretty articles to refer to."

“ Give them up!” hissed Nelson. “You scoundrel, you
robber l” .

'I‘om Western had been controlling himself for some time, and
now his boiling passion could no longer be restrained. He
made a sudden loop, and grasping Nelson by the shoulder and
hip, ﬂung him headlong from the window upon the green- ,
award, and he was nearly ridden down again by a horseman,who
came dashing up at full gallop. It was the sleeper, Jim, who
was coming up to inform his leader of the escape of the
prisoner. '

“ Hi, look out i” cried Jim. “ Git out of the way 2"

At this moment the curtain of Mabel’s room was pushed
aside, and she cast a startled look at the strange scene below.
She saw Nelson rolling on the sod, Tom Western, who had
leaped from the window, standing in a belligerent attitude
.above him, and Jim reining back his horse to 'prevent riding
over the prostrate man. I ‘ .

As Nelsim rose from the earth he caught a glimpse of 1

q s
\.

 
x

L mnssnen FROM cm. 81-

Mabel’s face, and the hand which he had laic‘. upon the piste
dropped to his side. . '

‘ “ You shall pay for this,” he hissed. .

. “ Any time and anywhere you like. It can’t come too
quickly, sir, and if you do not get into your room in half a.
minute, I shall be under the painful necessity of throwing your
in.”

As he seemed very likely to keep his word, the other did
not think proper to wait, but he must give his retreat a
color. ‘ i

“ I never quarrel in the presence of a lady,” he said, raising
his hat to Mabel, and by the action, showing Tom Western
that they were observed. 'Having shot this bolt, Nelson
'atepped into the low window of his room, leaving western
and sleeper Jim to their own devices.

“ That cuss wants to git stamped to death,” he said. “ I’m
arter you, captain, fur the fat is all in the ﬁre. Dick Demp-
‘sey and Waubena have cut the’r stick."

“ What; escaped ?"

“ Jest so ; got off as clean as a whistle, and took Jack
Fenwey’s hoss with ’em. Fightin’ Jack is tearin’ round as ef

\ he had abumblebee in the seat of his pantnloons.” ‘

“ Oh, fools, fools! Why did you not chase them T”

“ ‘Ceu‘sc that rotted Waubenn stampedcd the hosses, and we
couldn't. We've got ’em all back but Jack’s, and that the Ii;-
jun has got, I reckon. Hows’ever, he left his own behind,
so Jack has got a mount, but he don’t take it kind, fur all
that.”

I “ This is a nice muddle," said Tom. “ You may look for
turning houses and dead white men now, unless we can get
at this scoundrel. Stay here a moment.”

He entered the house by the window, and rapped at the
door of Dunham’s room.

“ You must excuse me for troubling you. Don’t rise, I beg
of you, but I have a message from my camp, and there is
trouble. I must be off at once, so give good-by to Miss Mebcl
for me." ‘ i ‘

He strode away to the stable, saddled his horse, and rode,
SWay by the side of «Jim. As soon as they. were out of sight,
Nelson also came out, found his horse, and rode away eta

 
'rnn murmur gum.

\ break-n60]; pace across the prairie. Next morning the Ranger:
were far away upon the plains near the chapparal, lying in
ambush for the Indians, whom they knew to \be somewhere

, in this quarter, but they had come too late to intercept their

V " late captures, who were already in the chappnral, perhaps with
the band. As morning. broke, the Rangers saw a man ridlng
a full speed toward the chapparal, and as he came nearer
they recognized Brinsley Nelson, and close behind him rode

Yantic. They plunged into the chapparal not far away, and

‘ disappeared. \Vestern was about to order two scouts to fol-
low-them, when something happened which drew his atten-
tion another way. A body of Indians were deﬂling slowly
from a pass, and debouchz'ng upon the prairie not far away.

' They were about seventy in number, and were a part of the

,same band which we have seen before. Brawny ruﬂians,
hideously painted, but skillful riders and brave men. The
Rangers could be held in leash no longer, for they had been .
panting for the fray many days, and Western founed them in
the edge of the chapparal. The Indians came riding down
at a-slo'w trot, their spear-heads glistening in the sun, and their

'bronzed, warlike faces gleaming savagely under their unkempt
masses of dark hair. Just then a rattling volley swept through
their ranks, and the terrible voice of Mad Tom Western
shouted :

. “ Charge!"
r Then that terrible cavalry force, the most terrible in the
v world, because they literally have no fear of death, charged
upon the Indians. With bridles dangling free, a pistol in one
hand, a hatchet in the other, they bore down upon the sur-
prised Indians. Although the number of Rangers was smaller
than that of the party they assailed, they had the advantage
of a surprise, and several saddles had been emptied by the ‘
ﬁrst ,volley. But the Comanches, wheeling their horses,
brundished their long spears and made a counter-charge. The
1‘“ ’Rangers closed with their enemies, and then ensued one of the
' most desperate hand-to-hand engagements known in the history
' 1 of the State of Texas. After the ﬁrst rush, the Indians had ,,
‘ ,ﬂirown aside their spears and taken the ex and knife, weapons .,
L Iimilar— to those carried by the Texans, and in the use of which
Whey Wﬁrexadepts. The shields of the Indians came in play

‘:

 
\

/

A FIGHT ’_I‘0 THE DEATH.

h

here, and, covered by these, they warded oﬂ‘ many leWS which.
. would have been fatal. Foremost among the ﬁghters, holding
.in his right-hand a ponderous ax, and in the ether a bowie \of
great length and weight, fought Mad Tom, and the. Indians
went down before him like chaff. At his right hand fought
' Jack Fenway, a terrible ﬁgure, spotted with the gore of his.
enemies and dealing terrible blows. He had received a cut.
from a hatchet upon the forehead, and the blood from this
I wound had stained his whole face, but he did not seem to
know that he had been touched. The wild prairie men were
not less savage than their opponents, answering their wild
whoops by cries which vied with theirs. . '
“ Fight on, ye devils l” roared Jack, as he hewed down an
inklian who crossed his path. “Fight for the honor of the
Lone Star, and the memory of \thc dead. Give it to ’em.
Take that, you red nigger.” \ \
Retreat was not thought of ; every one knew that it was a
duel a l’outrance, and that the conquered party had no hope
of mercy. Here, locked in a deadly grapple, an Indian and a
Ranger rolled from the saddle to the grass under the plung-
ing feet of the horses, from which one at least would never
rise. There, Tom \Vestern tore a shrieking savage from his
saddle, and with the force of his terrible arm dashed him to
,the earth. The deeds of the knights of old in battle withthe
’ Saracens could not surpass the headlong valor of these Texan .
heroes. Knives gleamed, pistols cracked, the scalp-cry sounded,
and rider-less horses careered across the plain, dragging after
them the mangled body of a dead master, entangled in the
stirrup. Yells of vengeance, groans of despair, blood and
smoke, and then the veil lifted, and the hardy band of Rangers
‘ stood triumphant on the plain, and about them, in gory heaps,
lay the slain Comanchcs, grim in death, grasping their wea-
pons'in their stiffened hands. They had fought their last
I battle, ridden upon their last raid, and died worthy the name
Of the warrior tribe of the Comanche. ‘ r
l The victors had not won their battle easily. Out of ﬁfty
Rangers who had begun the fray, ten were killed outright, as
many more'were desperately injured, and not one had escaped
without a wound. Jack r-Fenway, besides the out upon the"
.‘M‘chead, was wounded in the left thigh by a knife-cut, Wes-

 
mm mm QUEEN.

' r ', ‘tem was wounded in the shoulder, and all the rest were hurt
in a greater or less degree. And all this in a ten-minute
ﬁght. There were sorrowful faces among the Rangers as
they turned to view the bloody ﬁeld, and saw the bodies of
their friends. lying among the dead forms of the Comanchcs.
But, these were not times to waste sympathy or words
Some caught the scattered horses, pursuing and lassoing those
which ﬂed. Others picked up the wounded, and carried
them into the shade, where their hurts could be attended to.
‘Z‘herc Were no wounded Indians brought in, because, as Jack '
Fenway remarked, “that wa‘n’t any thar.” They searched

' everywhere for Waubena, but he was not to be found, and
they were forced to the belief that the warlike chief had not
been with the party, and was probably absent with the re-
mainder of the band, upon some other expedition. The
wounded men who could be moved were sent at once toward
Dunham’s, under guard, while the remainder of the Rangers
buried the dead. Jack Fenway rode away across the ridge
to bring reinforcements from a neighboring town, for the

, struggle could not end while Waubena lived.

CHAPTER XII.
A DESPERATE urn.

Tun remained until night upon the plain where the ﬁght
had taken place, and then moved down through the pass.
Leaving the wounded in charge of three men, with orders
to keep close until sent for, they marched away for Dunham's,
where they were to meet reinforcements under Jack Femvay.

As they crossed the last roll of the prairie, a loud cry 0f
cansternntion broke from the livid lips of Tom Western, and
putting spurs to his horse, he dashed wildly down the slope,
and saw this:

, "I‘he Dunham ranche and stock-huts a. mass of charred and
and blackened cinders, still smoking in places, while among
the ruins lay the mangled forms of the defenders of the place,
but so disﬁgured by wounds and ﬂame that they had lost every
trace of humanity. . Western’sgreat heart felt such a pang“

 
moon non BLOOD. ' 85

it had never felt since the nonr when he stood above the mm.- \
gled forms of all the men of his race, and vowed vengeance on
their murderers. For a. moment .he leaned, sick hnd giddy,
npon the neck of his horse, but, manning himself by a mighty
ed‘ort, he raised his hand to heaven, as if appealing to its justice
against the perpetrators of this fearful deed.

“Buttrick,” he said,“ you ought to know who has done
this.” ’

“ Comanches," replied Buttriclr, whose eyes had been linger-
ing upon the tracks about the place.

“ Who do you think it is ‘r”

“ Waubena and his band."

“' How many do you think he has with ‘him ?"

Buttrick descended from his horse and examined the tracks,
and gave it as his opinion that not more than ﬁfty were en-
gaged in the fray. He examined the mangled remains, and
decided that neither Dunhsm, Mabel, nor Mrs. Dunham were

among them. They had been kept prisoners, though with ‘, 

what object it was hard to say.

“Boys,” said Western, turning his ﬂashing eyes upon the‘,
men, “ are we good for ﬁfty Indians? But, what is it, Buu
trick 1’" - , '

“ White men; they came before the Indians, if I can make
any thing by the signs ?”

“ Ha, What does that mean ‘3”

“ They seem to have mixed with the Injins arterwards, and
not as pris‘ners. This looks squelly.”

’ “ We must not hesitate now, men! Blood for bloodl Dave
Tory, you ride back and hurry up Jack Fenway. Have him
bring his men to the chapparal.

On the afternoon previous ﬁve men had ridden up to th
ranche, with Brinsley Nelson at their head. The leader dis-
mounted and rapped at the door, leaving his men outside. He
was admitted by Walter Dunham, who started at the lexpreSnu
sion of savage hatred upon his face. I ,

V “ I came to your house determined to spare you, Walter

Dunham, and in return you set your bravoes on to insult

V ' . me, and I am here for vengennee. I wish to see your dsugh.

tar ”

 
THE ’ PRAIRIE QUEEN.

Dunham closed all the doors of the room, and faced his
enemy deﬁantly. - '

“ You scoundrel," he hissed, “you shall not see Mabel.”

“ Shall not? Do you knew that it is in my power to giye
you up to the vengeance of the Rangers ‘2" _

“ Yes; but even then i must be the one to suﬂ‘er, and not
‘/ my innocent child.”

“ Will it be pleasant for her to see you haled to death by ‘

the hands of the men you claim as your friends ?”
r- ’ “Better even that than this daily torture. I may die, but
(I die an innécent man, and you know it. I am aware that the
crime of which you accuse me is a horrible one, and, if I were
I' ‘ 'l‘eallyguilty, death would be an insuﬂlcient punishment; but I
am innocent.”
“ You talk it well, Dunham.
IV your daughter."
I “ I refuse."
"‘ Out. of my waygyou old (lotard, or I will ﬁnd a way to
make you.”
“ I fear you not. You may ﬁnd that this arm of mine has.
‘ not yet lost its power."
Nelson raised his hand to his mouth and whistled. In-
stantly the door was ﬂung open, and his men hurried in, with
their pistols ready. At the same instant the door was opened
at the other side, and Mabel appeared, looking with astonish-
ment upon the scene. '
“Mr. Nelson 1" she said. “ What does this mean ?"
“It means that I have come to force your father to do me'
(justice, but I do not mean to harm you. Walter Dun-
ham, shall] speak before these mt- , or shullI send them
out ‘3"
Dunham had dropped into :1 chair with his head resting on’
a table.
“Send them out,“ he said, hoursely.
' punishment is full.”
I ' The men passed out at a signnl from Nelson, and the three
r ,were left together. For nearly an hour they remained there,

Stand aside and let me see

“ The measure of my

I

' men to enter. ‘
“ Mm Mabel Dunham,” he said, “ I have called in these

. it v

 
,' and in the end Nelson threw open the door und invited his A

 
l"

1

‘ mm Pmmrsn. ' V 87

men as witnesses. Do you, before them, acknowledge my , ‘
power over your father for life or death ‘2”
ff I do," said Mabel, in a stifled voice, mm of agony.
. “ Do you promise before them to be my wife, when I shall
claim you 2”
, “ Do not promise,” shrieked Dunham, starting up. “I will
I declare my guilt to all the world, and leave them ’to judge.
Men, the crime of which he accuses me—”

But Mabel’s hand was pressed upon his lips, and her arm
about his neck.

' “Father, father, be silent. I am willing to make any sac-
riﬁce for your good, to do any thing which will save you.‘
But. bear this in mind, I do not believe you guilty, but the
-verdict 'of the world is against you, and would sacriﬁce you.
I promise to be your wife when you ask me, Mr. Nelson;
does that satisfy you?”

“It does; Thompson, go to the stable and get out horses
for three persons. Put side-saddles upon two of them 'for
the ladies, and be quick.”

’ The man moved away and came back directly with a face
blanched by terror. ‘
. ' “ The Injins are on us, capt’in, coming down the river.”

Nelson rushed to the door and found the report was true.
A strong force of savages were dashing down the plain, driv-
ing the terriﬁed stockmen before them and now and then
stopping to end the agonies of one of the unfortunate men

‘ ‘ who had fallen. Nelson turned pale, and went into the house,
calling the men in after him. ‘

‘By this time the remaining stockmen were in their huts,
defending themselves as well as they could. Leaving the de;
struction of these men to about twenty of his force, Wan
hens dashed on to the ranche, and riding up to the door
thundered on it with his spear-head. ,

“ It is Waubena,” said Nelson. “Stop ; I can make term
with him, for I see that Dempsey is among them." ‘ I

He passed out and closed the door and beckoned Dempseg

yto come closer. ‘ r

“ What is the meaning of this, Dick? do these men men.

to attack my party ?" _. ‘ ‘ . r
_  “I don‘t think they does,"~,replied Dempsey,‘ for they‘ ” ‘
‘ \ s , . /

\ XI ...
 4'1;

 
um Human QUEEN.

knows that you sent Waubena help last night. Speak to him 
in Spanish; he understands it well enough.” ‘ ’ ‘

“ Does Waubena come to take the hand of a friend,” he
said, in the Spanish tongue, “ or does he come with a spear
in his hand?”

“ Waubena has no spear for the just white man,” replied
the Indian. “He knows that aid came from his hand when
he lay bound in the camp of his enemies. But he has come
to destroy the home of the white settler and make him a .
prisoner. “

“ You can not do that, Waubcna. I was here before you,
and they are in my hands. The white lady is to come into
my lodge."

“What do you say ?” roared Dempsey. “The girl is
mine i"

"‘ You had better be silent,” cried Nelson, threatening-1y.
‘ You know how I can punish a traitor.” .

“ My brother is too fast,” said Wuubona. “ I have prom-
ised to give the white girl to this good white man,” laying
his hand gently on the shoulder of Dempsey, “ and he shah
have her."

“ He shall not.”

“Look,” said Waubena, with a kindling eye. “ I love my
white brother because he sent me help, but he ,must not come
in the way of the purpose of a chief. My young men have
tasted blood, and if they are made angry, more scalps will
hang at their girdles.”

“You’d better give it up,” said Dempsey, with a malicious
grin. “ ’Twill be all the worse for you of you don’t."

Nelson made no reply, but stood looking moodily upon the
earth. By this time the huts were in ﬂames and the stock-
men had fallen victims to the rage of their enemies. Not a
man was left of all their number, and the Indians, drunk With
'gore, came clamoring about the house, uttering their wild cries '
of vengeance, when the voice of their chief restrained them.
Nelson saw that he could do no more than save his own men,
but his eyes dwelt with savage light upon the face of Demp-
sey, who only answered by a look of scorn, and ﬂinging him-
self from his horse he rushed into the house, followed/by Nei'
Ion and the chief, whose face lighted up with savage joystg

 
\

\

A cam mm x ‘ ' 89

= he saw Mabel. ‘Dunham attempted some resistance, but he
 was speedily secured, and with Mabel and Mrs. Dunham, led ‘ '
’ I out into the open air. As they rode away, the ﬂames were
' ? curling about the walls of the devoted dwelling, and Mabel
 burst into tears.
 “ This is a terrible calamity,” said Nelson, who rode by her
 tide. “ I hope you will believe that I had no part in this.”
“ I believe you, sir, but see what you have brought upon us
"all. Your falsehood to one who loves you, to poor Zillah, is
recoiling upon your own head.”
“ Ziilah I” At that Word a strange light came into the fat:

_ , of the man—a thought of such revolting heartlessness, of fear-\

‘  ful villainy, that even he dared not breathe it. But, the

thought would come into his head nevertheless. and he saw

V. , ' in it a way out of his difﬁculties, when all else should fail;

A. and he looked at Dempsey with a grim smile.
‘ “You must not speak of Zillah," he said, hoarsely. “She
has no claim upon me.”
“ No claim ; she loves you, and you have said that you love
her.” ' -

“ Be silent, I say. The girl has been protected by me for
two years, and if I have sometimes passed an idle hour in
pampering her vanity, I am sorry for it now.”

. “ You have a cruel heart, man," said Mabel. “Leave me .

to ride alone, you false-hearted cowarc .”
' He reined back his horse with a ﬁerce gesture, and rode
. back to the side of the chief, to whom he said something in a
'  low tone of voice. The chief started and looked at him, and
i then the two fell somewhat behind the party, conversing ea-
. ' gerly., Dempsey looked back at them uneasily, for he feared
' that the cunning Nelson would yet overreach him, and take
the prize from his grasp. The party headed up the river
somewhat, to be out of the track of the Rangers should they
return, and then crossed toward the chapparal where they were
3 i. to reach the remainder of the party. Little did they know
that those brave warriors lay stark and stiff upon the prairie,
where theylmd fallen by the hands of the Rangers. They

, , camped that night. upon the prairie, and rode on with the

, ’, early light. This Was some hours after the Rangers had With-
 drawninto the pass, after buying their dead where the Indiana

 
I 90 ‘ THE murmur QUEEN.

could not ﬁnd them, and leaving the slain Indians where they
lay. Rounding the point in the woods before mentioned, they
came suddenly upon the battleﬁeld, and Waubena literally ‘
reeled in his saddle as he looked upon that dreadful ﬁeld.
There, in ghastly heaps, lay the bodies of many of his best
warriors, men who had followed him in his desperate raids
, upon the border, and his emotion was terrible. Plucking at
the clothing on his breast with a look of fearful anger, his
ﬁerce eyes rolling, he rode closer to the scene of combat, while
the long, low Wail which bursts so spontaneously from the
breast of an I'ndian when a warrior loses his scalp, rose/from
the lips of every Indian in the band. Nelson sat mute, as
much surprised as any one at the strange sight before him.
'The Indians began to cast savage glances at the-prisoners, and
even at the men with Nelson, but no hand was raised against
them. waiting as they were for the signal of the chief.

“ Listen,” cried Waubena, striding up to Nelson, and smit-
ing him upon the breast with his open palm. “Did you know,
that the pride of the Comanche lay as low as this?”

“,Would I have come here with you if I had ?"

The Indian nodded gravely, recognizing the truth of the
remark, and gave orders to his men to set about buryingtheir

dead. The solemn ceremonies over, the chief turned to Nel-
, son. ‘

“ Show us this hiding-place you speak of. and we will go
there and wait, while more help comes from the Comanche
village." ’

' The other now took the lead, and they began to thread the
mazes of the chapparal by the paths which Mabel had followed ,
once before. As they neared the ruins, signal-whistles were
heard, and when the party came into the open space before
the ruins, no one was in sight except Zillah and her brother,
who were standing in the archway. Zillah uttered a. cry of ‘
terror, and pointed to the horrible ﬁgure of Waubena’, and
Coradi recognized him.

“ Ask no questions now, Coradi,” said Nelson. “ Zillah,
retire to the cabin, and take Miss Dunham with you. And
for you," he hissed in the ear of Mabel, “ beware what you ‘

say to her, or it will bring a worse fate upon her than losing.
hey love.” ~ .

   
' WILD DESPAIR:

l IMabel looked scornfully at him, by way of reply, and alight-

wild, intent gaze.

“ You do not speak; why were you brought here?”

“ Zillah, have you still faith in Br'msley Nelson ?”

u  Pl ‘

“ He is false to you; so false, that by the power he holds
, over my dear father, he will force me to be his wife, and 1—-
- )— how can I say it ?—have promised it.”

Zilleh, with a look of wild despair, fell at her feet, as if»
smitten by a. thunderbolt. Her fears had been too true.

i!

y ed, extending her hand to Zillah, and the two girls went aWay

y ‘ together. , . , i

l. “ What is this, Mabel? Why do you not speak ?” said Zillsh. \-
rt “ My poor girl, my dear girl, I dare not speak.” \
s “ Come into the cabin; you can speak there.” ~ \
t They entered and closed the door, and Zillah put both

! hands upon Mabel’s shoulders and looked into her face with a

l

 
CHAPTER XIII.
VENGEANCE.

 
As she fell, the door was thrown open, and there strode.
into the room the stalwart ﬁgure of Waubena, followed by
Nelson and Dempsey, who marked the motions of the other-
two with a malevolent eye. Close behind them, with a ﬁerce
expression on his dark but handsome face, was Coradi, the

‘Mexican, unseen by the others.

—— I ‘f You have told her that I no longer love her," said Nelson,

vindictively. “ That is Well. and I am sorry for her; but the

‘worst is to come, I fear. This chief claims the girl as his

V prisoner, and will have her, or destroy the entire party.”

“ Ha i" said Dempsey, his, eyes beginning to blaze, “ I see
your game, my boy.”
, Zillah, at the ﬁrst sound of the voice she had loved, shud-
dered slightly in every nerve of her delicate frame, and started

’ up, looking‘at him With a ﬁxed gaze.

9‘ You must speak again,” she said, slowly; “ I did not. use

j derstand you.”

:99 " f mm mm quasar.

“‘I am sorry to say it, but—"

“ Liar i You are happy in the thought, for your face
speaks louder than your words, mask “as you will. You did
not need to use such a stratagem to be rid of me. Women '
of my race are too proud to give love unasked, and so, fare
you well l” ,

“ Wait.” said Nelson, hoarsely. “ It is not in my hands to
death. Chief, do you claim this girl?”

“ Si," replied the chief, in Spanish. “ She is mine.”

“ Not while I have a dagger and know how to \ use it,”
cried Zillah. “Help, my brother, help; they would destroy
me.”

Coradi heard her call, and leaped to her aid, ﬂashing his
glittering knife before the eyes of the chief with such a mean-
ing in it that even Waubena recoiled. Nelson stamped three
times upon the ﬂoor of the hut, and the grating of hinges and
the hasty rush of feet succeeded, and directly about twenty
men, fully armed, were in the little hut.

“Seize yonder traitor," cried Nelson, pointing to Coradi.
“ He has transgressed his oath.”

“ It is false 1" cried Coradi, as the men made a rush at
him. “Boys, listen to me and do me justice.” '
‘ “ He shall not speak,” hissed Nelson. “Away with him;
you know the place well.” , -

But a murmur began to spread among the men. “ Let
him speak ; give him fair play ; Coradi has always been true,"
were among the murmurs he heard. ,

' “ He’s done no wrong, boys,” said Dempsey, who saw that
a bargain had been made between the chief and Nelson, ex- ’ ,
eluding his claims. “By our laws he has a right to be'heard.”

“ Speak, then,” swirl Nelson. “Say your say out, and see
whether these m”: ' 7“ stand by me or by you.” .

“ I will speak,” sum Zillah. “ You all see that man, your
leader. and you all know that it was expected that I was to be
his wife. And now, he has sold me to this barbarous chief,
to be carried to a hopeless captivity, the horrors of which you
know as well as I. And why ? Because he ﬁnds that other
wise the chief will not give up this good woman whom he
’ insults likewise by the offer of his love. I ask you as men,
as white men, if you will permit this horrible act 1’,” I

 
\

mm cinnr’s “rumor.

“Not nol Hurrah! We’ll stand by Zillah Coradi and \
her brother against any sneaking Comanche that ever crawled,”
cried a rough-looking man, who stood foremost. “What;
we were Texans before we were outlaws, and we Won’t see a
woman wronged.”

‘ Nelson ground his teeth in sullen rage, and turned to the
L chief, but he was gone.

“We might ask,” said Dempsey, “how the captain dared
show these Injius the way to the Secret Haunt. I never
would have done it.”'

“ Don’t waste words idly, here,” cried Nelson. “The chief
has gone to gather his band, and we are doomec .”

“ Pooh,” replied Bob Tenny. “Not a bit of it. Thar
ain‘t over ﬁfty of ’em, and we ar’ good for any ﬁfty Comanches
that ever was whelped.” '

But they were mistaken. The chief appeared again im- . I ,
mediately, and extended his hand to Nelson in an amicable \
manner. "

“ See,” he said, “ your young men do not want to see the
white girl go into the Wigwam of the Comanches. That is
well, and Waulmna will seek a Wife among his own race. ‘
But let us be friends.”

“ That’s the way to talk it,” said Tenny. “ The chief knows
how to give up when he’s beaten, and that’s what I like to
see in a man, no matter what’s the color of his hide.” ' V

“ Do not trust him,” whispered Zillah to her brother.‘
“ There is‘some great treachery in his heart."

“ I shall not trust him,” replied her brother; “ and the time
is not far off when I shall call Brinsley Nelson to a heavy
reckoning.” .

“My brother, life seems ended; and I could have loved
him so well i" - ‘

, “Do not give the villain a thought; but I shall not rest
until I meet. him face to face, sword to sword. Who takes
command of the guard to-night, Brinsley Nelson ‘9”

“ You will take ﬁrst half ; I will take the last. It seems
that you still allow me some little authority.”

“You have no claim upon me which permits you to de-
grade my sister. Let me alone;-our day of reckoning mum
come.” r ’

\

 
, 'THE PRAIRIE QUEEN.

“ It may come sooner than you expect,” muttered Nelson,
with a sidelong glance at the pair. “Order the men to re-
turn,” he said aloud. ' ‘

. “ We prefer the outside while the Indianstays,” said one
'of the men. “It would be better for their safety to put the
- prisoners below.”

“ You are right, Forbes,” said Nelson. “As we leave this
place forever in a few days, the secret is of little moment
now. See to it at once.”

4 Shall I blindfold them ?"

“ I think you had better; but go to my cabin ﬁrst and
bring the lady and gentleman who are there.” .

Dunhum and his wife were brought in blindfolded, and led
away by Forbes, while Nelson followed with Mabel. Demp-

ysey would have interfered, but a look from his leader stopped
' him.

“ Shel! I go with them, or stay here ‘2” said Zillah to her
brother.

“ I think you had better go with her,” replied Coradi. “ But
do as you like about it.” ‘ /

Bidding him be careful, she followed the others. They
passed out at the back of the cabin, which formed such an
angle with the octagonal walls of the ruin that no one could
‘ see them, except from one direction, and none were in
sight. Nelson touched a spring, and a door in the—wall ., V
opened and they passed into a narrow passage, by which a
ﬂight of steps led downward, carved in stone by the hands of
Aztec workmen, long ago. Here Nelson.left them, and they
passed in, hearing the door click behind them. -

“ Hard’and fast,” muttered Nelson. “ Oh, my good, kind,
considerate brethren; I will teach you to rebel against me 1”

He passed out into the inclosure whence Coradi had already
expelled the Indians, with the exception of the chief. Guards’
were pacing up and down, with their riﬂes ready, and two were
posted just without the ruined archway. Nelson smiled in a
grim way, and went into his own cabin, where the chief was
waiting for him, and they had along conference. In the even-
ing, after supper, the chief rejoined his men, who were en-
camped outside, and by midnight \nothing was heard except
mthe tread of the sentries,and the Indians were apparently

 
museum V  - 95 *

asleep, while the white men slept apon their arms in the
center of the ruin. But, in the stillness of night, under the
light of the stars, a deed of terrible import was performed.
Suddenly, without warning, silent arrows sped, and every sentry
fell, stricken to the heart, While over their bodies the Comanches
swarmed in to do the work of death. 'Taken by surprise,
hemmed in by the long lanccs of their enemies, the band was
completely obliterated, with the exception of Dick Dempsey
and Coradi, who, breaking through the circle of their ene-
mies, reached the secret passage, and were safe for the present.
But. the ﬁrst was severely wounded and likely to die, and
Coradi gave up hope. He saw at once that the treachery of
Nelson had destroyed them all, and that there was only one
refuge from dishonor for Zillah, and that was in death by his
hand. ’

The night passed and Nelson (lid not come near them. Per-
haps he dreaded the vengeance of Coradi, and dared not face
him. " About mid-day an Indian came to the door of the pass,
sage, which Nelson had opened for him, and gave them food-
' and drink, closed the stone door and went away. About three ‘
- o’clock a strong party came down and forced the prisoners to

accompany them into the open air.
“ Are you strong enough to meet death by a. brother’s-
hand, if I ﬁnd myself able to do it?” said Coradi.

\ “I call upon you, in the name of my, mother, to do iti
When I cover my face with my hands, the time will have
Come.” ‘

Coradi made no reply, but a lofty purpose came in to his face

as he felt for the pistols which he had concealed to see that

‘ they were safe. Not a man of the murdered party were to

be seen, for their bodies were already under the sod. The"

Indians bud only lost six of their number, for the surprise 1130

r been complete. Waubena was stalking about, with three

'scalps half-concealed in the folds of his hunting—shirt, his dark

‘ face Wearing an unusual expression of elation, and Nelson was
by his side. ’ .

“ You ﬁnd What it is to oppose yourself to me,Coradi,” said
he. , “ Your fellow~conspirators are dead, and you are in my
power. Chief, order your men to march out and form in the

open space. We will follow with theprisoners.”

’ I

 
98 THE PRAIRIE QUEEN.

‘t

,The Indians silently obeyed the signal of their chief, and
they'stood alone with the traitor and the chief.

“ Waubena,” said Nelson, “ you have kept‘fuith with me.
There is the girl ; I give her to you.”

The chief advanced to seize her, and she crouched closer by
her brother‘s side. ;

“ Keep your word, my brother 2” she cried, covering her
face. “ Nothing else can save me now.”

Coradi stood with a pistol in each hand, his handSome
face ﬂushed with a strong purpose. '

“ One shot for you, Brlnsley Nelson, one for her, one for
myself. Thus we escape from your hands."

‘The pistol was already leveled, and N elson was in the act
of drawing a weapon, when a fearful volley from the woods
tore through the Indian ranks, and the battle-cry of the Ran-'
gers rose shrill and clear as they came pouring in for venge-
ance. Wild shouts, a sea of excited faces, the roar of battle
for a moment, and then Waubene, wounded and bleeding—-
for, the chief had at once dashed out to join in the aﬂ'ray—
appeared alone at the archway, closely pressed by Mad Tom,
wielding a pondereus ax. The shield of the chief was beaten
down, and he sunk powerless at the feet of his destroyer, gasp-
ing for breath and rapidly bleeding his life away.

‘ “ See to him, boys," cried Mad Tom. “ Don’t strike him
again, for he has got his death. Now, Brinsley Nelson, I
have met you, and this must end all."

“ I surrender," said Nelson, quietly, “and have no wish to
ﬁght. I have done no wrong."

“ Liar l” hissed a feeble voice. They looked down and
saw that the wounded Dempsey had crawled to the feet of

the party from the haunt below. “ Ah, keep him away while ~

.I tell you all."

Nelson had made a rush at him, but was restrained by
Western and Fenway.

“ You see him there," cried Dempsey. “ He is Bradshaw,
the river-pirate, Bradshaw, the murderer and horse—thief, and
we were members of his band. When you search the secret
chambers below you will ﬁnd that he is what I say.”

'Bradshaw, the river-pirate 1 Since the days of Morrell, n x
. mm was more hated upon the Mississippi than this infemous’

 
1

r

INNOCENCE VENDICATED.

man, and now they had him. Weapons were half-drawn,and '
a circle of angry faces formed about him, but Western kept
them back.

“ I suppose it is of no use to ﬁght against fate,” said the
prisoner, quietly. “ I am Brinsley Nelson Bradshaw, and I
will meet my fate like a man. But I do not go alone. I ac-
cuse that man, Walter Dunham, formerly a surgeon in St.
Ancras parish, Louisiania, of being a Resurrectwnist. I can
prove it, and he dare not deny it.”

“ Father i” cried Mabel.

“ It is false, but I can not prove that it is so,” replied Dun-
ham. “ Circumstances are against me." ,

“ He broke open the grave of his own cousin, Joseph My-
erle, of that parish, and the body was found in his house."

The Rangers began to scowl ominously, and mutterings,
which are the sure precursors of the court of Judge Lynch,
were plainly heard.

“ Hold on,” said Dempsey, faintly. “ Give me a little
brandy, but don’t touch Mr. Dunham. He is all right, and
that man lies I” , .

“ Silence l” shrieked Nelson. “Do not dare to speak, or I
will cut your heart out 1"

He was dragged back, frantic with'rage, and one of the
,,Rangers put his ﬂask to the white lips of the wounded man,
, who revived immediately.

“ Bradshaw is it nephew of Mr. Dunham’s. He had
forged the name of his uncle for a large sum, and, although
he would not prosecute him, he drove him out of the State.
From that hour Bradshaw swore vengeance, and when Jo-
seph Myerle died we dug up the body and conveyed it to
Dunham’s house by night, and then sent word to the Vigi-
lance Committee. They came and found the body, but Dun-
ham escaped. That is the whole truth, so help me God.”

Bradshaw wrenchcd himself from the hands of those who
held him, drew a pistol and shot Dempsey through the head.

As'he turned, with the smoking weapon in his hand, one'bar-
rel undischarged, he was confronted by the towering form of
Waubena, bloody and threatening. ' I
,“ Where are all my warriors; where? White man’s scalp
Diet" shrieked the Indian ‘ .

 
‘ 98 THE manna QUEEN.

With the last‘ effort of expiring strength he whirled his
hatchet over his head. The stroke of the heavy hatchet and
the report of the pistol came together. Waubena was shot
through the heart, and Bradshaw, with the hatchet buried to
the handle in his brain, dropped as if struck down by an
avengiug bolt from heaven!

The last solemn rites were over, and the bodies of the vic-.
tims were under the sod. Coradi showed them all the mys- \
teries of the place, and upon his solemn afﬁrmation that .he -
had been deceived in the purpose of the band, which he had

regarded as the nucleus of a force Which was to attempt the ,
liberation of Mexico, he was not harmed. Walter Dunham
breathed the air freely, unstained by the shadow of crime, and '
the wife and daughter who had loved him so well shared in
his joy.

The parting between lelah and Mabel was a sad one, for
they had learned to love each other; but, they parted with
the promisa that each should hear from the other often. Zil-

lah had looked once at the dead face of Bradshaw, and then 

covered it.

“ I loved him once; may God pardon the evil of his ill.
spent life. as freely as I pray for his soul‘s rest.”

Yantic, who had lain concealed throughout the fray, came ‘
out and fraternized with the Rangers, who received him with
hearty good will. He followed Zillah and her brother/to
Mexico, and was not seen in Texas for over a year. Long
before that, Tom Western and Mabel were married and set-
tled upon a ranche not far from Dunham’s.

Two" years later. The plain bears a changed aspect. .
Where Dunham’s small house had stood rose the walls of a
fine Southern mansion, and all about lay shining ﬁelds, bright

and fresh under the summer sun. Upon a slope two miles ,

away was the house of Western, and Walter Dunham and his
wife were standing in the doorway watching the approach of

a party on horseback. As they came nearer they saw Mabel I ~

and her husband, the fair girl we have seen, new a happy
(wife and, mother, their love for each other showing itself in’
1 their faces. Behind them rode a servant carrying a year .ald . 

 
14“

women’s WHEEL.

baby, who reached out his little hands and crowed in delight.
But who is this, standing on his head in the saddle ? Who
but our old friend Yantic, With the same Whimsical manner
‘ as of yere. Next came Enrico Coradi, with a handsome lady
riding by his side, and behind them Zillah, attended by a dis
tinguished-looking gentleman in the gray uniform of a Mexi-
can colonel of lancers. How is this? '

Mexico has suffered another revolution, and Coradi’s friends
min power. The ex-member 0f Bradshaw’s band is high in
power in his native country, and Zillah was married a month ‘
ago to Colonel Ramon Diaz, of the staff of the President.
Yet she thinks sometimes with a chastened sorrow of the old
wild days, when she was with her brother in the ancient ruin
in which Bradshaw died.

Here too comes J aek Fenway, the same as of old, ready to
ﬁght or dance as the case may be. And the settlers come in
from all quarters'and have a merry meeting, and foot it uh

. der the Southern moon to the whispering music of the negro’l
violin. The old wild days are ever, and those who deserved
\ happiness are happy in each other’s love.
i

 
e

DIM

;STAN

‘E

DARD“

‘DIALOGUE

For School Exhibitions and Home Entertainments.

Jan. I we! luelulve.

15 to {‘5 PopuL-w Dialogues And Dnmnl in such bunk.

Each volume 100

12ml: plague, nut pou-pmd, on rewiyt oiprice, tun cenII.
333.619 & Adams, Publisher, 98 William Si... N. Y.

Thou volume: has hear: prcpnrcd with osporinl reference to their availability {Ar EXH'DNlrwu,
7:: min gtud to N'huuls mu! ,uriora With or without thu furniture: i n unma,:unui'nunud Lus( llLl;

AN YOUNG PEOP E cl’ every cumbo

tit, pathos, huumr 1L1 minimum.

in Inhle nil-l l'umnl». it in fair to Aalumo (l:"t it

fr hooks in the mark at, nt nn_\‘ price, conmlu Io many unul'ul and, .wailsbla dilloguu uuddrhlu

DIME DIALOGUES, N0. 1.

Ntan of tho Mus". Far nine young ladle!»
king in Live Englishman. For tune bnyl.
nn’n Cnrmminn. For unit and lemnle.
lhinn. Fur LWO Indium.
he Rein-arm]. Fur six hm".
n'hlcli will ynu Choonel For twﬂ‘myg.
The 3118:”: nl‘ Muy. Fur hm little ‘ll’ll.
The mt-Pnrty. l-‘nrl-mrlndicn.
film Seem-s In Well'lwl Lil“. Mnleaml femnlti
Mu. Snlﬂlra’ Cnnieuinn. li‘or Il|llll|hllll l‘umulu.
[do Miuian at tho Spirits. Fin: younglmliul.

DIME DIALOGUES

The Genius nfl'ﬁberty. 9 main and 1 female.

Cinderellat or. The Little Gl' Slipper.

Doing J.) :1 and Swing Bad. Snvernlchnrm-Ierl

The Golden Rule. Two nmln nru.‘ two {amnl

ThaGifL of the Fairy Queen. Snveul (amnion.

Tukm r | and I) are Fur. For two uhnnrter

The Cu wiry Aunt'n V'th to we City. For "-
ernl chnm‘um.

Tim l'wn Romain. For two mail“.

Tm‘ing lhe Chmurters. For three malen.

The ilupyw anllv. For nevernl ‘nuillllh’

The Rainbow. Fur Iavornl cLanurl.

Hobnobblng. For live I onlron.

'l‘he Secreto! Succeu. 'ur llire. trash“.

Youn Amerim. Three main: Ind two lumnlel.
Jmep inc'l Dn-stlny. Four fem-tier, oneumle.
The Fully nl'the Duel. For thru male-push".
Dognmiism. For [hr-at mule Iponkerl.

The I rnnrmlt Cunlnuudnd. For two boyl.

The Flint Yuung iii-.11. Furtvm mnlu.

he Ymir’n Reckoning. l? Tumult-I and l malt.
he Viiinge with One Gunthman. For eight I“
l umiua and out mule.

N0. 2. ’
How to li'rila ‘ Pnpnlnr’ Simian. Two mun.
The New and the (lid. For two main.

A Seuluiion In Lust. For two mslu.

The GrL-eulmrn. Fur two min.

The Threu Men of Sciunrn. For (our hill...
The Old Lndy‘n Will. Fur four muicl.

The Little l’h‘l an illel'I. For two little with.
lan to Fiml In lluir. Fnr ﬁve ulnlu.

The Vlrluen. H r nix young ludlol.

A Connuhiul Et'll‘ﬂuc-

The Public minding. Fivemnlel end mule-the
The Engli-h Trawler. For womiu.

DIME DIALOGUES. N0. 8.

'l'ha Mu Queen. Fm- nn enilu school.

1mm Rafa-.1. (,onvexiliun. liar ten fomnlel.
Kn lug Bud Company. A Fur-,0. *‘lranI’llinlC'o
Cour-tin»: Under Diﬂleultiee. \nnnh-I, l frmnie.
Nation-t1Repmuenmtivcs. A Bllv‘lclqlm. 4 union.
Ewnpiuz the Draft. Fer nunnroul mnlcn.

DIME DIALEA'.-‘IES

‘llln F'er l’i'ur. Per (M! "More rennnu.
‘nrtiux ‘n Lie. '1 hrou mule: Ali'l twu iwnn'm'r
liLh, ll me um! Chm-in. Fur lbw-e liitle chin.
u'rv and Jom. For two mule! rm I Am: [mums

A in Muy. A “‘1an Fancv. For-sit iitt .- girls
\‘nEuch'mtad Prinn—u. ‘1 innlegmywrn’ fe'Imh-s
‘ ‘m to \thn Hun r in Duo. 1 lnulul. l ’2'”an

‘umll 3 Client. For I¢V0lﬂl union. one ﬁnnnlr
olcgy. A lmuuiun. Furtweuty Im‘lt-s.

3 , mm: 13mm
38', "I hroe'Gnnuea. For school or )mrlnr.

.l unent. A “ Three Pannm’ ” in m.

hid the Curtain. For male! and femnleu.

a Eta Pi Society. Five bnvs mul a media.
ln-ninntlfn Dav. b’uraevuml hmnle char-men.
ﬁnding in “ Train." Foruveni mulch
heSchnnl Bay: ' 'rlbunal. For ten boyt.

A [Am Tongue, Severnl mule» mud frmnlu.
Haw Nut to Get an Ail-war. For two female!-

Tho Gent-«cl Conk. For two main.

liss'wpiu-n. For two mnlul and two I'm-lee. '
'l‘lve {we llomnm. For two mules.

Thu Linn“. S-wnnd awno. Fur two mnlen. .
gll'l'ilii'z tlm \Vllitu Faniher. 4 nmlu, l fem“.-
’ "1L linttlu Call. A Rociutlva. For one nude.

7
3.0. 4.
{he Sini’b'utown Voluﬂuw. 9 mall-I, l (UNI-ht
. {in llL' frum “ l’nul Pr) ” For tour mnieL

e Clmnm. Fnr llirul lrnlu nnrl une [emula-

P, Ci4 ‘1! ﬁnd I] 'onm. Fm thn-e liltle girls.

0 Fight \\’u A Cullnqny. For two no”.
What [he Lw r Sun. For twn mods».
The (‘rinu-a pl’D-l-us. ACulloqng. Fur twnhny'
i‘. o P w:.rd cl llwmvulrnte. Ivor Lu: umiu.
'l‘ue LuLL-‘J‘. Fur two ml

suns, 1:0. 5.
T’uttlnrz on Airi. A Cullnqnv. Fm- two mule!-
The Slrnlulil M 'rk. l'nr sevrrnl Lm u.

L..-

 
llerrrt .‘rmn Marina Fuiiem.

ill‘lwlnuMnney. An Aellun Charade.

"The Six Virtual. For six vounz lndiu.

The lrinhman It Home. Fur twu male].
FMhimmhle quulnmelh. For three yirL.

A Bevy a! 1’1 (Eye-)L For night or My may“.

DIME DIALOGUES, N0. 6.

The an’l'hrvX-‘M IRAEML Maia Ind {mulch

I'M Put under Dimeultlu. For ﬁve males.

Willing! T-ii. For 3 whole uimni.

ann'n Kuhn en females and two m-ln.

Ali-.11“ Gold'thu Giittm. Mlle and hmnlu.
(amt:- Jew. For i! main.

thawing. b‘ur “A”.  ud one “mule.

The Two Countele FM three mnlet

The Vntuiu o! Folly. For n numbrr alien-lei.
Aunt Beuy'l Bun. Inur {u Ind he mum
The leel’Smt Mtwo {amulet-pull on ‘
Sum Clam. Po; ‘ num‘er “My;

Christal“ Fair!» For mug! “th”

Th: 'l'llxu Ilia“ For Nu m

 
Two idem; of Lila. A Coilnquy. 1'“ ton girls. ~

 
g,

i

\

\

hm sender. SERIES.—1’peakers and Dialogues. \

 
I i
M ne'- do nutter, All nhont sbeu,
The Mississippi miracle, Scandal, \
Yen ts this seems in, A dnrk sids View,
Doss lame vot Mary his! Ts ossor soy,
got 0n onrnlng liermnn,
Put 6Tlnharty '

man's n‘ilu. / A ilnnllhy discourse,
The homo rulers. how Tobin: s.. to spank,

sh" “'l‘ﬂkm," 0m Mn. Grlune,
Heukinh Dawson on \purmly,

Mothers Iu-luw, “.us Eln|l cuts.
ﬁsdidn't sell the fnrm. mil ’lniux'wood, pilot,
“a true story of Frnuk- Old Gruniey,

l‘m‘s kit‘s, i‘hu pill podxllur‘s our
1 would I wen 1 bay lion,

. min, Wiiiiiur Green’s lost
I poll-Otis story, words,

DIME DIALO

Poor cousins. Three Indies and two gentlemen.

Mountains sud muls‘hlils. Six indies sud several
spectators.

A test that did not fails Six bail.

Two ways ol‘eeolng things. Two little girls.

Don’t count your chickens bnl'oro they are
hl‘chCI‘. Four lnrlles Mid u buy.

All is lIuril love nnd war. 8 illdigl, Q nentlemrn.

How Ind-s Josh not fill \f the legacy. Two males,
with ssvenl trsuslurustions.

en ‘70- Mury’sslnnnli Vltslamb.

DIME DIALEOT SPEAKER. No. 23.

Lntsst Chinese outrn , M nei lrh dogs," ‘
The munilust dun“,in Culideniedﬁ;theha
the il‘llilllllln, lotus, .
Peggy hichnn. The Nursirios,
Sprays irons Josh Bil Legend-inlAttics,
's, Thu stuVu-[Ii no trued’
urneisncee oh do A dokstor’s t ruhhles,
‘ A "-3, ‘l he cumin: mun.
Dur's nulliu new underl'i‘he iiligunt shit u
l (in sun, Muldi on‘s,
,A Nauru religious poem, That little bsby round
"l‘imq violin the curnrr. .
iPlClliC deli his. A genewinn infsrencei
.Ouronndii ule'~ views, An iuvltnliun to Li-
3' unlidrcsry‘s msdun, bin! of liberty,
Plum lunuungv by truth‘ The crow,
i iul Jun», Out went.

GUES No. 26.

The lesson of mercy. Twc 'ﬂy smell (iris.

Practice what you preach. Fuur‘lsuiies.

Politician. Numerous characters.

The cunvulillg agent. Two males end \we
fonmlos.

Grub. 'X‘vm mules.

A slight scnrs. Three famnlss Ind one Inuit

Emhodhd sunshine. Three young lull“.

How Jim Pours died. Two n as. '

s.

DIME DIALOGUES No. 27.

In" O’Dowd's csmpsign. For three males
‘ snvl’one l‘amule.
Hasty infurencne not always just. Numerous

3|.
Dissantsnts-l Annls. For sevsrnl (iris.
A douhlo surprise. Four mules sud ans tennis.
Wis-t was It! For ﬁve Indies.
What will cure lheml For a lady and two boys.
Indepsmknt. For numerous chnrscters.
Esch season thou best. For (our boys-
Tried and found wanting. For saverlil amiss.
A boy‘s plot For usle churscters.

DIME DXALO

A test thst told. For six young lsdlos and two
gentlemen.

Org-ailing e debstlng society. Fnr four boys.
The awakening. For four ilitls girls. I
Tho rebuke propor. For 3 zentiernen. ﬂ indies.
Examining nn evil spirit. For six imlit‘s.

‘ Both lids: of the fouvc. For four mules.
Du spirits a! this wood. For two troupes 0! girls.

‘ DIME nIsLo

-" Who shall hnve the dictionary! For six typicsl
male ehnructurs nud two frmalrl.
The test «I brsvery. Fur four boys smi teacher.
'ortune’s wheel. For {our Iusle ehurucmn.
Tho llitls nslhotos. For six little girls.
The yes And no nfsrnoke. Far thrse little boys.
No references. . Six gentleman and three lndlas.
All Int-sing good bov. One main, one male.
< Wilt A vlsltstlondid. For suverni l-dlss.

The slrnoi girl's good angel. For two iodine '1
two lltLlu girls.

“’l'hut \lnzrstuiul litth nigger." For two In

[H hurl lln- money. For lhrrs link girls.

Amwnnmcss nrn dwaiu‘ui. For severei Indus
and one uentlsmnu.
vs's protest. For two little girls.

Au unturned curs. For serrsl chsrndsrs.

'l‘lmln who preach end thou who perform. To!
lhrn-e mules.

A gentle conquest. For two young girls.

GUES No. 28.

No room for the drone. For three llttls boyls

Arm-chair. For numerous rhursclers.

Mon-urn {or measure. For four girls.

Sas'ed hy A dream. For two mules end two
lumnlvs.

An infallihla sign. For four bn‘ys.

A good use for menu. For H: iittln girls.

An sgrssuhis prolusiou. For savurni chum

GUES No. 29.

For {our little have.
Fur {our males. twn (amnion.
For iour little girls.

Simple Simon. .h'l

The red light.
Ths sweets-t thought.
The Inhumnu monster. Glmliel laud-mun.
Three little (vols. For (our smnll bore.

Ban urn of the dog] For tin-en indies And thug

" (Luigi-rs."

Joe Hunt's hunt. For two hays and two girls.
Rap. For six units.

 
g’ The shen‘boohs m sold by Now-assists svsrywlure, or will'he unt, post-paid, u u,
,{i : sin-.m- leuiytolpsice. 10 um mh.
‘ l w l: ABANB, Publishers. 98 WW M. 1‘. Y.

 
’Iiue good turn deserves another.

/
\ .

Dime School Series—Dialogues.

DIME DIALOGUES No. 14. ,

Mrs. Jones Jones. Three gents sud two ladies.
The barn genius. For four gents.

More than one listener. For {our gents enuisdy.
Who on earth is be! For three girls.

The right not to be u pnupsr. For two boys.
Women nature will out. For n girls’echool.
Benedict and huehelor. For two boys.

The cost of :1 dress. For ﬁve persons.

The surprise party. Fur six little girls.

A practical demonstration. Per titres boys.

Reﬁnement. Actin Charade. Ssvorsl eher
Conscience, the srb ter. Fm 1nd sndgsuh
How to muhe mothers he py. 'or two be).
A conclusive argument. or two girls.

A woumu’e blindness. For three girls. ,
Rmn’s worh (Temperance) For four gentl- '
'l‘he lutni mistnke. For two young ladies.
Eyes nnd nnse. For one gout and one lsdy.
Retribution. For a number 0! boys. .‘

DIME DIALOGU'ES No. 15.

r
‘mle fxtirles’ ssnnphda. Numerous rlmrxmters.
.yort's perplexities. For six gentlemen.
name cure. For two indies snd one gent.
‘he and there is in such. A number of boys.
Gent omen or nmnkey. For two bays.
be little philosopher. For two little girls.
Auut Polly's lesson. For {our indies.
A wind—fell. Auting chnrude. Fern uumher.
Will it puyl For two boys.

DIME DIALO

Polly Ann. For {our indies undone gentlenntu.
The meeting of the winds. For n nehoui.

The good they did. For six indies.

The boy who wins. For six gentlemen.

Good-b dny. A colloquy. Fur tln'te girls.
The site well men. For three bu)
The investi utingcommilteu. Fu line ludius.
A “ Curuer ' in rogues. For four buys.

. DIME DIALO
Llfl'LK rows“ KPBBCI

‘10 bhsp y you must be good. For two little
{title en one boy.

Evcneeeent glory. For n bevy of _hoys.

The little psucenmhor. For two little girls.

What Parts friends. For two little girls. I

ﬂnrthn Washington ten party. For live little
girls in old—time cnstumu,

. he evil there is in it. For two young boys.

Mine nnrl foolish little girl. For two girls.

,A child's inquiries. i"nrsmsil child nnd teacher.

The cooking club. For two girls and others.

How to (in it. For two buys.

A hundred yesrs to come. For hny nnd girl.

Don’t trust faces. For severul snmll boys.

Above the skies. For two small girls.

The true heroism For three little boys.

Give as little boyl A chance: The story of the
plum pudding; 1’" be it man; A little girl’s
rights speech; Johnny‘s opinion of grmnl-‘
mothers; The boasting hon; lie knuws -l.»r
test; A smnll boy’s View of curns; Robhy's

 
The heir-Malnw. For numerous mules. '
Don‘t helluva what you hear. For three indlﬁA
Asni‘ett rule. For threeladies. ' 1
The chief's resolve. Extrurt. For two mule“
Testing her lriends. For severul chaructsn.

’l‘ lorelgnur’s tmubles, For two indies.

'i‘ho l-ut without an owner. Sevrrnlchnrﬂlﬂl‘t
Nnturul selection. For three gentlemen.

GUES No. 16.

The imps of the trunk room. For live girls.
'l‘lu- bmrsturn. A Culloquy. For two little girl;
.Kitty’e funeral. For severnl little triris.
Strntngem. Churstie. For seveml c
Testing her scholars.
The world is what we make it, Two rls.
The old and tho new. For gentleman d lsdy.

GUES No. 17. '
"1’." AND DIALOGURS‘

sermon; Nobovl ’s child ; Nuttin st [rend
Grey‘s; Little uy’s view of lung Calnmbll:
discovered Amerlcn; Little girl‘s View; Lilo
tlu hny’s speech on time; A littlu boy's pock-
et; The nudulkght murder; Robby Rob’s see-(j
end sermon; low the bnhy unite; A boy‘s.
observnlions; The new slate; A mother's
love ; The crcownln’ glory ; Baby Lulu;Josh
Billings on the lmmlne-hse, wren, alligator;
Died yesterday; The uhieken‘s misteltu‘ Th-
heir nppni‘eut; Deliver us from evil; un’t
wunt to he 00d; Onl' a drunken fellow-
The two litt e rohins ‘ e slow to condom
A nonsense tsle; Little boy’s decisnmtion; A
child’s desire; Bogus; The goblin cut; Rub—
n-dub; Cslumnyg Little chatterbox; when ‘
nre they; A boy’s View; The twent frogs-
Going to schoolr A mornln both. he tir
of Dundee; A funny; in t e sunli ht; The
new lnid egg; The little musician; die Ben;
Pottery-1mm; Then and now.

 
DIME DIALOGUES No. 18.

Fslry wishes. For lovers] characters.

\Nu rose wllimut a thorn. ‘I mules illlil i i'emnle.
I‘m; greedy by hull". For three mules.

For 6 ladies.
Cunning Melinda. For 3 boys and i lady.

The new scholnr. For snuernl boys.

The little intercessor. For four indies.
Antecedents. For 3 gentlemen und 3 indies.

n dnt: u bad name. For tour gentlemen.
time wishes. ‘ six little girls.
(lllnrlio; or, the gipsy’s revenge. F0; n1
morons rhuructors. \
A little trump. For three liltie boys. ,
ilnrd times. For 9 gentlemen sud 4 indies. '
The lnssnn well worth learning. For “omelet

   
and two females.

DIME DIALOGUES, N0. 19.

Anuwful myster . Two females and two males.

C .ntsntment. or ﬁve little boys.

Who nre the snintsl For three young girls.

Cniit'eruin uncle. Three Ineles and three femles.

Be kind to the poor. A little {alks’ uley.

How people are insured. A “ duet.”

Meyer. Acting Charade. For {our ehsrecters.

I: smoke and. For four boys. .

A kin e ten diul us. For A Christian Fes-
i mounted y seven chit-eaters.

The reﬁned sirnpietons. For (on! Miss.

Rs-mt'nlllei‘ Ben-ton. For three muss.

Modern educshon. Three mules end one feuds.

Msd with too much lore. Forth!“ mules.

'i'he {siry’s turning. Dress piece. For two girls.

Aunt Euuiee’s experiment. For saversl. ‘ '

The mvsterlons G. G. 'l'wo {amiss sndosemeis.

We’ll ave to mung-gs the ism. For one hub
and two females. ’

An oldvfeshlon-d duet. '

 
the III olstedy. For that (his.

The nation. For “Mandamus. ’

 
l'

 
/
x
‘
I
« , . ‘ y I , .‘ I ‘
 a , . T »  mﬂ, / . n» .  n _

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llunn-r 1111111. 110 Nick. |he Scout. 1 Cnnehlnke Male.
111 The Texas Tiger. Hunk, the Guide.
112 The Crossed Knives. 1114 The Border Scout.
113 Tiger-Heart. 1651 \Vild Nat.
11¢. Mualzed Aungor. 166 Mnid of “'ymnlng.
' upper. 115 The l’eurl Piratel. 167 The Three Caplivel.
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Sharp-Eye. 1‘10 Mad '1‘1Y“I Human The Forest Specter.
1111nrllnud. 1'21 Black N’lc ' The Border Foes.
'_ ’l‘lle Yr-“(HV Hunler. 1‘22 Kit 151 " Border Vengeance.
'Jhe 1’11:1nl:11u rider. 1‘23 The 5119 er Riders. " Burder Beanie.
1'24 Giant Pete. The Sons of Liberty.
, . 1‘.‘5 The Girl ('nptlin. " The Lost Bride.
‘21 I. an \.llur. . .‘l‘ l 1'26 Ynulmu 1": h 1 Keeuea.
"l \\1ll .\ 1t. llillln- 11111.3. 1 The 'l'onkawn Spy.
' .1 1, . ThL1 “'uml \Viivh. ' . The Prairie Scourge.
lIlll K11112Tr11ppor. 1‘29 ’1' (' ild Spy. Red Lightning.
Sv-nl‘lnt Shulllllurs. 130 Mmk (711M. Brave Hean.
it»! or lililelxluu. 1251 R011 Plume. 1: NiglltrHawk Kit.
. 0.1111111' Juek. MuAum: Sam.
’l‘igul'»"l‘nll N‘rminnlc. ‘ l‘ho Jim-.1 Carlie. 1 Hurrlcune 11111.
[ 1U Duh-r. . (Eulnihul Chief. le Red Outlaw.

1m. rh.» Rnnzvr. {11110. The Swamp Scout.
' ilnraelllull. 1
11m; drama)". 1
v 1

111111 hincl‘llin. Thr- Shuwnea’u Fee.
.17 Kilillllllprli. 1.. Mohawk NM.
as Maid 111' the .\loun- . 01d ane.

min. 1 The Prairie Riﬂes.
139 The Srilltn Srnuts. . (11d Kyle, Trailer.
141) Bunk-r liltl‘owuie. .‘ Big Fool. die Guide.
111 The Mule Chief. . Red Brotherhood.
149 li1mlze,llle Huniur. The Mun in Green.
1w. 1111: Slayer. 143 )1111111111iu Rule. 196 Gl1nsl-Eyc,llie Gm»

.1011. 1m. 141 The Red Scuiper. Shut.
145 The Lone Chiuf. 197 The Prairie Trapper:
11.1 The Silver Bugle. 1119 11111121. Juhn, 111.9
147 China, Chm 'nne. Roud-Agent.
14'; The Tungled Trail. 1119 KeeHKnife.
1.19 The L‘nmn 11.1.1.1. 2110 Mad skipper.
150 The Lone 1mm... 1.101 The Young Spy.
151 The Branded Chiel. 941? The Indiuu Avenger.
15-2 Billy lllm‘legi. . Rival Lielmnanu.
15 The “111.13- Smut. 2114 The Swamp Riﬂes.
1:34 lit-d Junhei. ‘205 The Bullnnn Sc ull.
155 The Jungle Smut. ' Ducolah Scourge-
156 (Thumkec Chin-f. 907 The Twin Scams.
I e. 157 The llnlldil Hermit. 208 Buckskln Bill.

THC 1111111111 Spy. 1531 T111: l‘x1zriuc Scouts.

 
T1177. Fl‘llJJMVlNG “TLL BE ISSUED IN THE ORDER AND ON THE DATES INDICATED

0 Border Avenger-u. 11v l‘Illwm-d \l‘illelt. Ready Juno 27111.
Bumhllﬁ‘ Chnrgo. 111' llrl \l. yA Dunlsdl. Ready July 11th.
- ~|H|“uc(- Stout. “V J. Sl' icinlvrsnu. Rum!) Jllh ‘15“1.
- ' \luyor, Bv \\‘. .1. R-ulrlv August 51h.
0. Queen. 12\ \\’.. . R1 vlyAuuust‘l‘Id.
11:191.“ U'ld'llllt‘ll. 11" I . > 1-l-‘111h0r 5111.
' Q’rlmuu-r 01' Lu Vlntreunc. ‘ . Blur}- A. Denimn. Ready Sep¢ember 19111.
l’clvu MluiUl. 1‘1. 1'1 11mm» 11 [iv 11.111111. . . ‘ Ul‘tllbm' 3d.
“'1' '11 (11' 1110 \Vullinilnh. _ ‘3 ’ . 1111:. Randy October 17th.
l’rulric Pia-1110» h" ‘ ' }:~1|1i>‘(11'l“110r315'.
ll 11~Hzlr ( ‘ winnel Prentiss Illgmllnln. Ri-mly November 14th.
1:011 ~nv 1:. l 11.11 lli'orsl Randy Nuvember 1231 .
Purlinz. ;l_1 l‘reninril-k \Vhilznller. Ready December 12th.
\! ant-mu: H Inter-s. 11y f‘,1p1uin Frederick Whilnlker. Randy December 96111.
Guilt. nr _ at (-‘u lty. By \lrs. Ann E. Porter. Ready January 9111.
The Outlaw Ranger. By .1025le E. Blldgui', Jr. Randy January 9311.

or sent post-paid: single numbers, ten tenth; nix months (13 Non. “.95

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publuhers, 98 William Street, New York-