»s\\\‘«x  m . ,_______<,_.._fi,__ \- ..'
W ' mmfll’flllul 1-H." II‘UIIHIIIIHIHIHI‘HIIIMlIIEK®m4L  x

Copyrighted, 1384, by anu my) Axum. Entered at the PM! Oman at New York, N. Y,, as Second Clnss Mail Mam/er. August 90, IR“.

 

V01  32.50 _ Published,Weekly by Beadle and Adams, pme, N0 
I I I I

B "01"- No. 9B WILLIAM S12, NEW YORK. “W GEMS-

  The Road-Agent; or, The Uutlaw's Retreat.
——————¥——§ BY 30$:- 1:. BADGER, .Jn,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   
 

  
    
   
    
   
  
    
   
   
    
  
 

q

 

Black John, the Road-Agent. 5,,

 

, Black John,
THE ROAD-AGENT;

v

THE OUTLAW'S RMREA’I‘.
BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR,

 

AUTHOR or “ YELLQWSTONE JACK," ETC., ETC.

 

CHAPTER 1.
AN ADVENTURE UPON THE ROAD.

SWAYING heavily from side to side. and
creaking uneasily, as though protesting against
such rough usage, the stage-coach lumbered
dewn the steep bank. The sweat-marked lead-
ers tore through the narrow, shallow creek-bed,
anticipating the cutting lash, as they gallantly
breasted the abrupt, rocky; min-gutted ascent
that led to the fair, rolling Erairie beyond.

“ As nasty a ford as you in easy find," quoth

Ben Cookies, the swerhbrowed driver, 'as his
animals settled down into a steady, swmging
“trot. “ Chew, strangers?"
. Two or the three “out/sides" declined; the
lather, a. tall lithe borderer, with long black
locks streaming elfishly about his thin, shrewd
countenance—lazily gnawed a. chunk from oil
the miller-ed plug.

“ t used to be a. nastier hole, though, in the
time 0’ Hum Murdon,” the long man drawled.
“ That was Monte'Pete’s corral—~th beginer-
ally went thm‘ugh the coach whenever. he
' wu’th while." I
‘-‘ you ain’t a stranger in these parts,
. ’1 Cockles darted a quick glance at the
  om beneath his shaggy eyebrows.

“e , much, I war ’long when Ham went
under, hack thér, two year gone by—tho time
Monte Pete passed in his checks. See, this is

 

   
  

'how the Varmint sp’il-t my beauty,” and the

men chuckled grimly as he traced. with his flu-
x: adeep soar upon his cheek, half hidden by

shaggy beai'd. “ But I raised his piisan’ he
owed"; 1’  ..

“ Then you’re Curl F"

“ Folios do call me hat, sometimes.”

"It’s a. good-enough name, but I reckon you’d
better change it while you stay in these parts.
Let Black John strike your trail, an’ I wouldn’t
give a. continental pass for your chuinoe.”~

“ I’ve heard tell ’0’ the vurmint,” quietly re-
Rlied Curly. “But I don‘t know what grudge

e kin hev ai’inst me.”

“ It’s well noW‘d all OVol‘ the line, so I kin
tell er. This teller, Blank John he’s called
been so he’s a nigger, was with Monte Pete that
time. What they was to each other, I don’t
know, but I jedge they was e‘xtry good fri’nds,
fer some time afterward they war a lot 0’ bills

stock up ’loug the line, oiIerin' a. thousand dol-r

lore of any one would tell whar Curl , or Israel
Tostivan. could he found. Blank Jo n was the
name signed to it. I’ve been stopped twice the

. past year. by tellers what axed for Curly, but 7

when they didn’t find him, they left us slide."
“Then there is such a person as this Block

' , 'Johnwfias‘ked a‘young (man, hooked upon the *

 

 

way-bill as Kent Morgan. “ And he is a Road- .- .
Agent?” v * . ’

‘Jest as I tellvyou, stranger. But I reckon V
he don’t mean to bother us on this trip, or we’d
seen him afore.” '

“ What would you have done in case he had
made his appearance?”

“ What else but let him work his will?”

“What? There are two young ladies now.
inside, in a measure under your care. And you
would allow. them to be plundered—perils in—
sulted, or still worse—by these rascals, .thont
raising a helping hand?” somewhat hotly cried
Morgen. - _

“ Don’t git you: back up 'thout cause. strum ;
ger. Look how I be. I run this route every
day, year in an’ year out. It’s the way I liva’
Half the time I only hev the mails to kerry. v
Then git the Road-Agents down on me, an’ s
whar’d be my show? I wouldn‘t hevasmell.
A shot‘from the tall rass or bresh—sn’ that I’d
be. I don’t think In a. coward, but'I’d baa
pesky fool to run my head ng’inat a bullet, jest
fer nothinl,” sullenly replied Cookies.

“ There’d be no need of his help, on this trip,”
rirewled the third passenger. as he drew a tiny
Smith 86 Wesson sevenshooter from his bosom;
gingerly handling it. “I am armed, 8.51 per-
ceive you two gentlemen are.” I r

“ What mought you call that, stranger!” , '
asked Curly. ’ , , ’

“A revolver, sir." . ' : ,

“Do tell! I thought it looked likea’tatur
pop—gun." ’ s»

“ Sir, the weapon is rather diminutive in ‘ ’ .
size, but as a. destructive engine, 0! almost met-r
velous power. Why, sir, with that was on I";
killed a bull-bison at a single shot, in the hits 19-“ ,
mountains. I paced the distance afterward ‘
—;ust two hundred yards, sir." ’ ,

‘ I pass. stranger. _ You’re too big a shooter
ferpine. I reckon you‘re a preacher's son, ain‘t

e.

“ No. sir; my nemeia Kershawé-Frank Ker-
shaw. There is my card. As you see. I am in‘
the real estate business; cash capital. ten mil-
lion. As a. secret, sir. :I don’t mind telling you,

I am now looking 1: a bit of inndfa-one hundred .
miles square—that purchased of the Govero- . 5
want some time ago. I had forgotten all about i
it until last month. It’s so troublesome. you ‘ i
know, to remember all these trims]? drawled  i
kKershaw, caressing his pet mottonchop'yvhis- 
ers. _ V , L - r . V

“ Then you ain’t in thqudminin’ busineiasi"

“ N0, not now. 1 width my share: inithe ,
Caligornia mines. It was too slow "Work for ' v:
we.   . " r ‘ ‘ w 5

“ I mean the Kennel: wisest-s. Talk H’beut .
Californy—rWhy, that. aim hawker! Nam"! '
could tell you 017% in“ ‘ he: ‘- e run," " r i
would make you “ ‘ . W
once, and a chuqkiem ;
it a lie. Of warm/til”,
.fer a crowner’s ’queut,»

on...“ ,4. 

 

   
 

   
  
 

 
    

     
 

   

        
       
     
     
   

y

Black John, the Road-Agent. 3

arrange—but of that we can speak here-
afler."

“ Wai, I’ll give it to ye kinder easy, at fu’st,
an’ tell of one o’ my little lacers. Jest at sun-
riz‘, one day this spring, tuck my ox-wagon
an’ driv down to the place. I worked mighty
steady all forenoon, beca’se I war out o’ tobacco
an’ powder an’ wanted some change to go shop-

iu’ with. I didn't lift my head to see how full

war gittin’ the bed, outel noon. Then I start-
ed up the ox critters. They jist laid down to
it, but couldn’t budge the wagon. The gold
hed sunk the wheels in the solid airth, plumb
down to the hubs. So, you see, I had to pitch
out purt nigh half 0’ the dornicks eg’in. I
manidge to git the outfit up to the cabin, a’ter
pullin’ the wagon-tongue out two or three
times."

“But the—you didn’t leave the rest of the
gold lving there exposed, did you?” eagerly
asked Kershaw.

“ Yes—but I'm goin' to rope it next week, et
it don’t rain. Now you don’t want to think
that this is the best placer I’ve got, for it’s only
one o’ my (youngest ones, an’ the stqu hain t
sca’cely he time to grow yit.”

“ Thar comes the wet, strangers,” cried Cock-
les. “ Reckon you’d better pile inside, hedn’t

e?" V
y For an hour or more a huge mass of black
clouds had been sweeping down from the north-
west, and the air was growing rapidly cooler.
Now, afar of! Over the rolling prairie, could be
seen a. dense. whitish, mist-like sheet as the rain-
flood swept nearer. Joined to the sullen boom-
ing of the thunder, whose penis were now almost
incessant, the scene was anything but agreeable
to a novice, and, as Cockles reined in his steam—
ing horses, the two younger men hastily de—
scended and entered the coach.

The back seat was already occu ied by two
passengers, of a class not often me with in the
stage-coach of that date. They were both young
ladies, neatly but plainly attired, and from
their smiles, as the men entered, it would seem
they Were mutually acquainted. Yet. two days
before they met for the first time. , Since then
they had been companions in traveling, and un—
der no circumstances are acquaintances more
quickly made, or characters read.

Ma Howard and Eunice Lee were life-long
frien sand acquaintances. Eunice, though an
or han, had found a father in Thomas Howard,
3 istant relative of her mother. For two years
past the girls had been at boarding-school in
the East. Now they were returning home for
a visit. '

Both were more than usually comely, endow-
ed with considerable good sound common sense,
though not yet past their teens. May was a
brime,a trifle the tallest, of a round, lithe form;
Eunice a blonde, slighter in build, seemingly
more lragile.

More or less all were afiected by the coming
storm. Morgan quickl secured the curtain
upon the more expose side, and then spoke

a cheering word to his fair companions. A
cheery laugh replied, for the maidens had not
yet forgotten t'ihir prairie experience of by-
gone days. ' ,

His head bowed to the increasing blast,

 

 

Cookies drove ra idly on. Behind him, crouch-
ing down among he mail-bags and other articles
of baggage strapped upon the deck, was Curly,
jealously shielding his revolvers from the fierce
pelting rain. Snorting angrily, the full—spirited
horses dashed on, shaking the dropain torrents
from their steaming sides, the lumberin coach
rocking and swaying from side to side ii 6 some
storm-tossed vessel.

For full an hour the uncouth vehicle rumbled
on through the storm, uninterrupted. A long,
dark belt of trees and undergrowth loomed up
more and more distinct, extending at right-
an les with the trail. Cookies bowed his head
stil more, and rode on with increased speed,
but from beneath his shaggy brows he kept
casting quick, uneasy glances around, as though
ill at ease.

“ That ought to be Little Wildcat, jest ahead
thar,” uttered Curly, shaking back the now
dripping chevelure that had given him his sob—
riquet.

“ So it is—an’ I wish we was well over it, too.
It’s the devil an’ all a’ter a big rain,” growled
Cookies.

“ Ef it’s only the crick to bother us, we won’t
hev much trouble, I reckon."

" What do you mean by only?" quickly de-
manded Cockle-s.

“ Didn’t you say Black John was lookin' fer
me! Ef he is, Lhar’s the last chaince he’ll hev to
size my pile, sence I stop at Barrett’s.”

“ Mebbe he don’t know you’re on this trip!”

“Better for us both ef he didn’t. It’ll save
powder," was the quiet reply.

“ You don’t mean fight? Why he nevenrides
onless he hes a full dozén dar’-devils lit-3 iml
They‘d massacre the entire kit 0’ us at V 6" st
blow you struck,” cried Cockles, with an’lfiiéasy
air.

“Curly Tostivan don’t lay down to give the
fu’st teller what axes it, his skelp. Them’ll be
fooled who think that. Mehbe my life ain’t
wu’th much, but it’s the best I’ve got,” and he
chuckled at the idea.

Cookies said no more, for the leaders plunged
into the undergrowth that here brushed both
sides oi! the coach, his voice ringing out clearly
to warn the inside passengers of an abrupt de-
scent. And then, seemingly about to topple
over upon the slip ing horses, the coach plunged
down the guttere bank. and into the muddy,
roarin waters of Little Wildcat Creek.

Wit a fierce oath, Ben Cookies jerked up the
plunging animals, throwing the leaders almost
upon their haunches, forcing the wheelers back
against the coach, and then the old coach settled
down in the middle of Little Wildcat ford,
threatening with every moment to yield to the
mad rush of the waters, to be swept over the
uneven rocky ledge, and carried into the deeper
waters below. v

There was little occasion to ask the meaning
of this action upon the driver’s part. At the
same moment each one of the five‘ passengers
realimd the truth. There could be no mistak»
ing that command.

From the rocky side of the western bank
echoed a sharp, spiteful report—the voice of a
revolver. A ragged bullet whistled unpleasant
ly near to Cook es’s‘ head, causing a peculiar

   
 

 

%
i i
l
l



 
 
 
  
  
  
 
 
 
  
  

 

4

Black John, the Road-Agent.

 

 

thrill to creep along his spinal column. He
knew that this bullet was but a warnin for him
to halt- should he refuse, the next missl e would
probably pierce his brain or heart. So, throw-
ing all his skill and strength into the eflort, be
checked his snorting animals, even as a stento—
rian voice rung out, high above the roar of vLit«
the Wildcat:

“Halt! You carry property there that be-

. longs to Black Jobnl”

All was confusion within the coach. The
abrupt halt, despite their efforts, flung May and
Eunice from their'seats forward upon their fel—
low—travelers. For a moment the crazy vehicle
stood almost on end; but then settling down
more like a sober stagecoach, the crumpled pas-
sen are quickly. disentangled themselves, and,

as t ey accomplished this, the ringing summons r

came to their ears. '

The girls shrieked faintly—Kent Morgan ut-
tered a low curse; but the valiant Kershaw was
silent. Kent thrust a fist through the closed
curtain, his revolver clicking significantly. As
though in answer to the cries of the women, the
23mmanding voice from the side of the ford

: w '

“ Have no fear, ladies. Black John were only
with those of his own sex.”

With the words a sin le man leaped lightly
down the rocky bank, a ightlng in the water,

. knee—deep. In one hand he carried a‘ revolver.

Another showed at his waist. A little cry of
wonder parted Kent Morgan’s lips as he peered
through the. rent curtain. An little wonder,
for truly this man was a strange-looking being.

The being seemed beyond the usual i ht of
man, of truly Herculean build. His gar was
mostly compos
gaudil ornamented and bedecked with beads,
stall-Io quills and feathers. Upon his hands
were rid rig-gloves, the fur gauntlets reaching
to the elbow. A felt hat was slouched over his
face. V From beneath this there fella profusion
of coarse. wrinkly black hair. The face was in
color that of a. full-blooded negro, but with
features horribly grotesque and misshapen. A

eat hairy wart disfigured the right cheek.

he mouth was large, with red, swollen lips,
drawn far down upon the left side, where a.
broad, pur lish scar extended from eye to chin.
Uneven. d lured teeth, that might almost be
termed tushes shewad through the coarse, brist-

llin beard and mustache.

ere could he no mistaking the person.

[This man was the notorious outlaw, Black John,

upon whose head was placed almosta fortune
in rewards; the man who, for two years past,
had set both civil and military powers at defl-
ance—whose very name was a terror to all

- (peace-loving settlers.

“ My lads,” said Black John, slightly turning
his head as he spoke, “ keep your p aces, and
offer these eerie no harm unless they attempt
to make in so of. Now, Ben Cookies,” he add—
ed, addressing the driver, speaking in estrange-
ly musical voice in one so repulsive, “ who have

you alonfithyou on this trip!"

,“Two ice—three men,” was the prompt
l‘ . . '_ .
 ladies—.«God bise- thedivine creatures!

J .shell’pus soot-free, but the rest b! you’ must

, \

ed of Indian‘dressed buckskin, ’

 

  
 

pay toll, for our pockets are near) empty. By
the way, lads, just show yourse ves,_that our
friends may see the folly of attempting resis-
tance." 5‘

L_ike,magic, nearly a dozen men rose from
their ooverts, their revolvers covering the
coach. Over their faces were black masksm n 
their hands glov'es. Evidently their oglfhc
was to avoid recognition. Then, as Black ohn.
waved his hand, the band as suddenly disap-
peared from view. "

“You see, gentlemen, I amnot trying to bluff
you. If you accept the situation quietly, all
right; if not, the fault lies with you. T01 you
must pay—but ’tis a rule with us to leave every
one enough dust to keep his pockets from flap~
piifi in the wind. But flrst—Gocklesl"

9 driver granted uneasily.

“ Have you with you a passenger by the name
of Curly—or Isran Tostivan P”

“Hyer I be. my covey—’ith four aces for r ;
your pile!” cried aciear voice. the last words r 
partia ly drowned by a sharp. ringing report as ~
a revolver ke from the coach roof.

Black Jo n ste gored back. dro ng his
pistol, and then f at full lea th in t emuddy
water, one hand clasped to his roast. . '

At the first summons Curly had flattened .
himself along the coach-deck, idden from the ‘  3'
Road-Agent’s view by the numerous packages - L 1'
before alluded to, that could not be stowed
away upon the crowded rack behind. And
from this covert he had answered the demand
of Black John. V. . v

Without waiting to note the resultot his shot,
Curly turned his pistol toward the ' driver,
fiercely crying):0 .  I ’

“Drive on, ckles, or you‘re a dead galoot

Even had surly Ben dared refuse  ,,
he could not have done so for the now‘thor
ouzbly maddened horses plunged forward with ’. :
a vigor that strained every hand and hackle, . . -' - 
almost dragging the driver over the toetboard. ,
The lines snapped like bits of packtlireitdé—
the crazy vehicle rocked and awe ed “all the .
‘afllrighted animals madly tore up t 

rm . ,, .
For a moment the outlaws seemed, , ed. '
by the unexpected tell of their leader, at then
as he struggled to his feet .with a hoarse cry of
rage, their revolvers spoke ra y, sending a _
leaden hail after the coach. From the mot, ‘
Curly’s pistol prom tly replied. Throughvthe.
rent cur ain Kent organ added his share to
the thrilling tumult; but the joking, swaying ;
coach prevented anything like an m. -- ‘ 

“After them—40 vour horses!” yelled Black ,
John furiously. “Kill every one but the we; V '
men. I’ll shoot the one that harm: a being:

 

 

   
 
  
 
 
   
   
  
  
  
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
    

x

 
 
       
 
  
 
    
  
 
     
   

thilhhe‘ilgw h Be a kiss.” game 1
se t e w i . n oc 7 ur, ,
sternly. “Don‘t show the white  no»?

 
 

or I’ll plu ye~shorel The road’s _ , an’ (The
critters ’1 make {owner stables, 5 like. ‘An
how, at we {all into his hands, we’re gone such
are. Use the leather, maul” - ' .
Pals and trembling, Cookies knew W
to disobey, and with a hand thatevem " ‘ ‘
not forget its cunning, he plied the 1‘
whi , waiting the echoes is th  «t .
as ewirylashcutflrstone sad 

      
 
  

   

 

 
     
 
  

   

     

 

Black John, the Road-Agent.

of the racio animals, parting the hide like a
knife. As t ough trying to run through their
harness, the horses darted forward, carrying
{the coach over the almost level road with a
truly wonderful speed. The station was now
not more than five miles away. Until that was
reached the road was good, broken only by the
gentle swelling of the rolling prairie. And to
the maddened brutes the weight of the coach
seemed but a trifle, as they stretched out flat to
the springy turf, running like race-horses, the
broken lines flopping over their backs. There
was a peculiar exhilaration in this marl. break-
neck race—but how was it to end? Could the
result be other than death?

“You fellers inside thar-how goesit? Any
one hurt?” inquired Curly, bending over the
rail.

“ I believe not—but yonder come those devils!”

“ I see ’em. Whar’s that huffalo-shootin' fel-
ler! I hain’t heard nothin 0’ him yit. It’s like
he’ll hev a chance to tr his pop-gun now,” and
Curl laughed reckless y.

“ e’s under the seat—where he’s been from
the first," replied Morgan, in a tone of con-
tain tuous disgust.

“ Y’m hunting for—for my pistol,” the valiant
Kershaw explained, in a not very steady tone
of voice.

Curly’s laugh rung out clearly, as be tossed
back his long hair. A bitter. vindictive yell re—

lied from the lips of Black John, as he spurred
Eis horse on, closely followed by his men. Yet,
though finely mounted. they gained but slowly
on the coach. that, drawn by four stauch ani-
mals, almost flew across the prairie.

“Don’t waste your powder, young teller,”
cried Curly, coolly. “ It ll only be a little brush,
for we're not fur from Barrett’s, an' the noise’ll
soon fetch us help from thar. But keep the
ladies low down, whar the baggage‘ll keep the
bullets from them.”

A mile further on, the pistols of the Road—
Agents began to speak viciously. But discharg<
ed as they were at‘full speed, the missiles were
but little better than chance shots. Tauntingly
Tostivan’s laugh rung out, maddening his dead-
ly enemy.

Snarling like a wild beast, so full of rage and
fear that his frey was slipping through his
hands, Black ohn merciless y spurred on his
horse, a noble creature. Neighing with pain.
the beast rapidly overhauled the fugitives. All
but one of the Road-Agents were distanced.
Better mounted than the rest, the man kept
close to his leader’s heels.

Both Curly and Morgan opened fire, but their
bullets sped wide of the mark. The swaying of
the coach rendered their aim futile, and the
outlaws drew steadil y nearer, as yet making no
attempt to return the fire, until within a score
yards of the coach.

Then the revolvers were raised. At almost the
first report ashriek of agony filled the air, and
a human figure rolled from the couch-deck. It
was Ben Cockles. He la in a quivering heap,
but he did not feel the fa l; he was shot through
the brains. -

“ You’re my man, Curly Tostivan~remem~

her Monte Pete!" snarled Black John.
“ You’ll be toastin’ ’longside him at the same

 

 

fire this night, my covey E” retorted the tall bor-
deror. “ Thar comes our fri’ndsl"

“ But not soon enough to save you I”

With these words Black John forged up along-
side the coach. Both pistols spoke at the same
moment. An involuntary cry broke from Curly
and the outlaw. Then other reports followe .
The next moment both outlaws were down!
And Curly uttered another exultant yell.

Two miles away, upon a prairie swell, he
could see a body of horsemen, whom he believed
to be friends. But would they be in time to
save them from destruction? The coach threat-
ened to upset with every moment. At such a
speed the result could scarce] y be otherwise than

atal.

A glance back showed him the Road-Agents
clustered about the fallen forms. He knew that
nothin more was to be feared from them then.
If the orsemen beyond were friends, the out-
laws would have to ride fast to save their own
lives.

“Git ready in thar for a upset, if I fail," he
cried, coolly, prepared for a desperate attempt
to avert the impending peril.

Crawling to the foot-board, he calculated his
chances. The chances were greatly against
him. To fail could be nothing less than death,
instant and certain. And yet he did not shrink
from the trial. Though unconscious of the fact,
Curly was a hero.

For a moment balancing himself, Curly leaped
down upon the back of the wheeler, clinging to
the harness like a monkey. The animal crouch-
ed low down, then with a cry of terror, plunged
forward, snapping both traces like packthread.
A strong hand now wound in the reins, and
after a brief, thrilling struggle, the animal was
held in check. A moment later, Curly had both
the leading lines tight wrapped round his hands,
and the greatest dan er was passed. Gradually
he checked their m speed, until, as the horse-
men swept up, he brought them to a standstill.

The Road-Agents were just disappearing in
the distance, and though pursuit was instantly
made, the prospect of overtaking them was
small. In their flight they had borne their dead
with them.

While the few who remained behind were
placing the body of the ill-fated Cockles upon
the coach, Kent Morgan was narrowly searching
the, round. Present] he eagerly picked up a
sma 1 object. quickly iding it in his bosom. un-
observed. Then, as if his object was fully at-
tained, he returned to where the ladies stood.

With Curly upon the box-seat, thou h he was
slightly wounded in the shoulder y Black
John’s last shot, the coach rolled on to Bar-
rett’s, where an excited crowd awaited its com~

mg.

That night Frank Kershaw was in his glory,
telling how “we defeated the rascally Road<
Agentsl”

 

CHAPTER II.
BLACK JOHN'S CHALLENGE. ‘
THE little dingy bar-room of Barrett’s sole
“hotel "—as the swinging si n boldly proclaim-
ed the rude story—and-avha f building to be—
contained a much larger number of people than
it usually gave shelter to, on the morning of the

 

 

3 . ' Black John, the Road-Agent.

 

 

day succeedinfi the Road-Agents’ attack 11 u
the coach at ittle Wildcat. Yet the chu by
little man presiding behind the rough pine bar
did not seem happy. The freshly-washed glasses
were innocent of alcoholic scent—the stout bot-
tles were still full to the throat. The sturdy

settlers had something of even deeper import-

ance to talk about.

The news of the attack and defeat of the
Road Agents had spread like wildfire, and eager
to learn the truth of the affair, the farmers and
stock-breeders left their work, flocking into
Barrett’s. This was the first time for nearly a
year that the stagecoach had been waylaid
along this stretch. And when it, was known
that Ben Cockles had been killed, deep and dead-
ly threats were breathed, and as it by common
consent, the settlers collected at Barrett’s to
cohsult upon the best course to pursue. Then,
as had been the case before, the subject of or—
ganizing a Vigilance Committre was broached.

“I don’t say but what you're right, strum
gers," said Curly, upon being appealed to for an
opinion. “ Et you kin git the right man to lead,
a vigilance outfit is a hard pill ter sech varniints
toswaller, as this Black John’s boys be. But
the trouble is, in matters like this, each man‘s
as good as his neighbor. an’ thar‘s jest as many
lea era as thar ls noses in the crowd.” v

'“ Will you take the office, theni" said Thomas
Harvard. ‘ ,

“No, I won’t. I don’t mind lendin’ a helpin’
band, of it's needed. but I’ve , 0t business 0’ my
own to ’tend to. Besides, I m a stranger to
most- 0’ you."

“ n tiorget that you promised to tell me
more about gold-planets, Curlfy," eagerly whis—

pered Frank Kershaw. “1 it’s as you say,
there's moue in it.”
. “But, if understand ‘-aright, ~ this man-

Black John Ibelieve you call him-qu killed
yesterday,” observed one of the party, a stran-

ger. ‘
« He had arrived at Barrett’s shorth after dusk,
the night before, riding along the Denver trail.
Owing to the excitement, ‘he had been but little
noticed by the usually curious- settlers, yet he
was a man that few persons would pass without
turning for a second glance.

In stature, he was'but little above the medium
hight, lithely, elegantly formed, with a supple

in every movement that was a charm in

teelf. His dress was plain, though of costly
material. In his linen front gleamed diamond
studs. An elegant chain cressed his vast. A
beautiful diamond cluster~riug giarkled upon
his left hand that now caresse his smooth—
shorn chin. file close-trimde hair was jetty
black, covared by a military forage cap. His
face, almost classic in its contour, was very
handsome, though Wearing a firm, self—reliant
exprenlon, that redeemed it from eii’eminacy.
His eyes were large and of peculiar hrilliancy,
seemin to pierce through and through those
in n W cm heir re ards were turned. He had
a you the name of ayne Appleton, just from
Denver, bound for Fort Leavenworth. Though
he had not stated as much, the impression was
that he was in some wayconnected with the
service, at Leavenworth. '
“I don’t believethe man was killed,” quietly

observed Kent Morgan. “ His horse we shot, ‘
and stumbling, flung its rider. If I on take
not, we shall hear more of this afleir."

“ The varmint has got as many lives as a cat,"
disgustedly said Curly. “ E! I didn’t'plant two
pol lsin; plum wh‘nr his heart ought to he, Pm a

nu

“ It would not be the first time that a secret
coat of mail sto pod a well-aimed bullet. I
thought of that a ter your shot at the ford, and
gave my last bullet at his hea ,” said Morgan.

“ But you missed him i” asked Appleton. ~

“ No—l made a mark," was the quiet reply.

“ A good claw to work by then. A negro,
shot in the face cannot be easily mistaken.”

“ It so markvd— es. ,But I am not sure that
my bullet touched is face, any more than I am
that this Black John is a negro.”

A general exclamation of 81! rise greeted
this remark, but Kent Morgan stii ed the gath- ,
frinIg with a gesture. Then he addressed 1

Jur v:

“ You had a fair view of this Black John?”

“ Yes—why shouldn’t I?" . 4
“ Did you notice his right cheek?" , 

“ Yes. fie had a great big thing like a wart; = '
growin‘ thnr, kivered with hair. The size of a ‘-
peach s lit in tw0, I should judge,” thoughtfully . 1*
added ostivan. '

“ You have a keen eye, Curly,” and Kent
laughed shortly, as be tossed something ’upon

 

thelow bar. “ There is the wart,just aspen: ' 7 
describidnii'. You can see where my bullet eft‘ . - 1
its mar .

_As one man, the settlers pressed forward,
Appleton among the foremos . But his was the
only hand that offered to oh the curious-
looking object. In size and shape it closely re-
sembled a full-grown tarantula, deprived of its
egs.

“ You choose a rather inop rtune moment
foryour practical jokes, Mr. organ,”'llowiy , .
uttered Appleton,dropping the object. with n _ ’ "
gesture of disgust.‘ ' ' . :

“ It a jest, ’tis none of mytmaki‘ng. Gentle; -
men, that is an imitation wart, made of- ' . ,
and silk, but it is the one worn by Black chu, . ’-
as he terms himself, yesterday alternoon. '-
When I saw that he was proof against our bul-
lets when aimed at his body, I'fired at his head. '
I saw him start. and then something fell to the  ' .'

und, leaving a clear white spotmgon his , '

tomb 

   
  
  
  
   
    
   
 
   
  
 
  
  
   
  
 

 

87° .,

cheek! This I saw plainly. as I to ,
tend to the other rascal. Him I shot through-
the bod , just as Curly dropped the leader!
After t e aflair was over, I went hack 
Searched the ground carefully, finding 
mock wart or wen. Put this and thattomeflfir, ‘-
and what dime result? That the outlaw is to
he re, but a white man. And, beyonda den
th fact has been his greatest “(midi '
discovery, for only amgro was looked‘mr‘
is easy tohsee now how he escaped so often. _
deed, when his disguise is once cast aside, that
is there to revent him from wing] anion:
you—even 3 am in your councils‘ you
to form plots lay snares to is.‘ iii
struction, laughing in his sleeve; 5? them
the. double role he is playing? I: it ‘

more than a hold, Quick-wi men,

 

 

    
 

   

 

 

 

 
 

  
 

 

 

 

    

with very little danger to himself.”- . ,, ‘

 

Black John, the Road-Agent. ’ - 7.
c

 

“Just ao—supposing him to be what you sus-
. ‘ pact; and I do not deny that you have grounds
.1 ‘ 01' your reasoning—hut'is it likely that so many
'1 persons, could have been deceiged so thoroughly,
' , V and for such along time?” 73'
i' Kent Morgan turned quickly toward the

‘ s her. A leton met his gaze quietly; but
‘ t e words 0 the youn man were checked by
‘r‘ the rapid beat of horses boots along the road
 without. Instinctively, all eyes were directed
toward the open doorway.
: The shape of a horse and its rider abruptly
f halted at the door, so close that the long mane
: ' of the animal floated inside the room. The
.; rider made a rapid motion with his right
I arm. Aheavy peculiar thud followed. Then

with a single, low, taunting laugh, the vision

A vanished. ‘
ll ~ Aten-inch bowie«knife was quivering in the
; door casing, a sheet of paper fluttering upon the
9 bright blade; And above the cluttering of iron-
"  shod hoofs, the insolent laugh came to the ears
[ ' of the astonished settlers.

The afl'air had been so sudden, so unexpected,
that the bordercrs could scarcely believe their
; eyes. And yet, scarce one among the party
I ~ but had caught sight of a black, repulsive face,
 as the horseman glare-d in u n them.

'1 “BLACK JonN, BY THE no HARRY!"

, - The Words were Appleton’s, as he sprung

‘ 2' » across the threshold and into the open air. The
spell was broken, and the entire party quickly
followed.

The daring horseman was now nearly clear of
the village, and taming in his saddle, he shook
his clinched list at the party, uttering a loud

~ -peal of insolent laughter that stung the settlers
to fury.

 

 - ' , ing erect, as though des ising them, Black John
1w, quickly passed bayou pistol-range. Seeing

V " '_ this, the farmers leaped upon such horses as
were standing ready-saddled near at hand, and
sat out in hot pursuit. Still others ran afoot,
until the folly of such a course cooled their

, 59d, when they rejoined those gathered

* around Kent Morgan, as he read the knife—
pieroed paper. On it was written in bold, clear
characters: ‘

“To in main Forums or Bamm'sz—Gnsmcz
Some time past on have been threatening in organ
tan a oompan 0; vigilant“, for the express purpose
of wiping on the hand I have the honor to captain.
All {am curious to learn whether you are really mm.
I make this . reposition: Tomorrow at noon I will
be ‘oamp gt, the Twin Mounds, having just twent -
memes; I shall remain there until sunset, y

, A to receive and entertain visitors.
. “I send. this challenge, because your boasts and
' n. threat: of what you would do—lf you were able~are
, monotonous. Do not fetch less than forty
 than,“ iny ladawish something to hven them up.

Md you accept this challenge?
I. ” , . from your master.
‘  g . “Bum Joan. ran RoAn-AGER'I'."

won’fi'  no easy matter to find words by
, “a the wild storm of rage and

wed i dreading of this precious
, ’ nt. LA bitiugstinging i
blast, the manner wh ch this bold defiance

     
     

 

 

 
   
  
  
   

    
  

 
  

 

nsult from first

 
  

    

'  deliVered added to the humiliation, '

oud and deep, hrohe‘ from the sturdy

, ,

 

A heel-e of revolvers began to speak. but rid-_

 

settlers, weapons were drawn and brandished,
and for a few moments it seemed as though the
entire party were gone suddenly mad.

Again the clatter of boots rung through the
little village. but as the crowd lanc‘ed quickly
along the road, they recognize a friend and‘
neighbor. As he abruptly drew rein beside
them. the man suddenly demanded:

“ Whar‘s Tom Goodhearteiiny o’you tellers
know?” ._

“ What’s up now, lkei You lookas though
you had seen a ghost!” asked Howard.

“ You seen my brother?" hoarsely repeated
the ma‘n. _

“ Not since the first of the week. But there's
nothing wrong, I hope?”

“,cht'day Tom started for here, but he didn’t
git back last night. This mornin’ I see’d his
critter in the corral, whar she’d jum in, the
saddle kivered with blood. I set t a boys to
work lookin’ fer si vn an’ kem on here to see of
I con (1 Porn anyth n’." 1

Ike Goodheart spoke in a low, strained and
unnatural voice, and there was a strange look
upon the hard, rugged face, as the settlers.
knowing the deep, almost passionate love that
bound ihe brothers together, read aright the
sickening dread that even the stoical borderer
could not entirely mask. The stor of the
bloody saddle told of et another hiac tragedy
to he added to the a most endless catalogue of
crimes and bloodshed that slain the annals of
Kansas, hot as a Territory and as a State.

“Some more work of Black John, beyond a
doubt!” cried Wayne Appleton. “Men. how
long are you gain to submit to this—how much
ionger'are you go n to allow this devil and his
imps to ride rou shod over you? I_ am a
stranger to most 0 you here,_hnt I am ready to
land on what aid I can. I willheone to pledge

l to and honor never to cease the hunt until
3; 5, gang of outlaws in broken up and destroy-

A general cry greeted this declaration, and it
was evident that not the slightest objection to
such a decided course was felt now, whatever
might have been the case a few minutes since.
For a time all was confusion, each man talking,
none listening; but then, as another horseman
came spurring along the road, followed by lite
Gnddheart, the tumult died away, for by his
face—the manner in ‘which the new-comer turn-
ed toward Goodheart, they knew that hewas
the bearer of evil tidings. '

“ You needn’t say it, Hank,” the brother at.
torcd, in a strained, husky tone. “Whar is

he?”

“ By Little Timber—throwed in his tracks,”
was the terse rep‘liy. ’ ‘

“ Fri’nds.” sai ,Goodheart speaking in a
strangely quiet tone. “you hear what Bank
says. Brother Tom hes bin rubbed o ’ Wiil
some 0? ye go ’lon 0‘ me to Little herl
Mebbe your eyes ’l he sh r fer sign than
mine, today, for somehow feels bit of! my
feed: reckon it's the ager a 'in."

“That we will—«and woe totltou that have
done this murder!" solemnly cried Thomas
Howard. ‘ ~ ' ,

For the time Black John’s bold challenge was
forgotten, and almost to a man the settlers'

  

  

 

9

Black John, thdRoaA—Agent.

.,_ .-_.

 

hastened to prepare their horses for the ride to
Little Timber. Among them were our friends,
Kent Mo an, Curl , and Kershaw.

The pal dozen In! as were quickly traversed,
and the creek known as Little Timber, from the
stunted trees and shrubbery that lined its banks,
wasreached. As the rty rode up, two men
glided out from the un ergrowth, armed to the
teeth. They were those left to keep guard over
the dead.

Ike‘Goodheart dismounted and stood beside a
little heap of fresh branches torn from the sur-
roundi trees. With a strange gentleness he
remove this covering. revealing the stiff, life-
less figure that had so recently been full of life
and activity. For a moment he fiazed fixedly
u n the ghastly face of his dea . in silence.

n he spoke, in the same low, monotonous
voice that had marked his tone since his appear-
ance at the hotel.

“You see, gentlemen, whoever ’twar, made
sure work 0’ it.- Thar’s whar the bullet struck
-jest over the heart. I don’t reckon he ever
kuowed what hurt ’im.”

“ Don’t crowd around. boys. o'ntil we’ve had
a look for sign,” said Curly Tostivan, peremp—

torily. . .
For full half an hour the vicinity was closely
and systematicall searched, but nothing was
found that could t row any light upon the tra-
gedy. Yet this was not so surpii'sing to the
Kart . A simple solution for that. The settler
ad u shot some time during the preceding
day; ev those least skilled in gunshot wounds
could I that much. And the heavy rain-
storm, that hadcbutinued long after nightfall,
had thorougny obliterated all traces left by the
murderers. :
In turn. the members of the party had exam-
load the corpse, merely to satisfy that morbid
curioaltv one naturally feels upon such occa—
sions. ent Mor an was the last. He seemed
note little interes , closely scanning the body
from head to foot, a peculiar light in his

eyes. ,

Quick] s, in 'a hand beneath the body,
he igntlatungigd 8it over, and then, drawing a.
kid , tilt the clothing! between the shoulders.
Bowmofvzhopettlers pressed forward, mur-
mur-in :at heir head was Ike Goodheart. Mor-
gan re ,' U their gaze franklly.

“ I’ve found-shit of ‘ sign’ t at you all over—
looked; . T30 snug: magmas this xréanl ago not

 -., was is y.‘ can ee 1 now,
net beneath the skin."

“ Stan" aside, stranger," muttered Goodheart.
" i must have the fu’st look at that bit 0’ lead.”

With a hand firm and steady as steel, the
borderer parted the clothing; and pressed his
knife into the livid flesh. Then a bullet lay in
the palm of his hand. With as much care as
though this won some great treasure, heart
washed the telltale missile and then eyed it

keenly.

It was the pellet of a revolver “ navy sized."
It bore the plain marks of the a
box-rel, but was not otherwise dis ured, and
v' Goodheart’s eyes lowed vivldl as he saw that

the bullet wag “ lobed "—tha it here the pri-
‘ Irate mark of its owner; the initials M. C.
.. "Them that's my letters, but you tellers all

so l y-grooved:

 

know how I mark my bullets,” promptly cried
one of the settlers. ' . ’

“I know it wasn’t you, Mat Craythoue,” as
readily replied Goodheart. “ But here, by the
dead karkidge o’ brother Tom, I ew’ar to find
out whose work it is, and to boy his life, if it‘s
fifty years from now!”

Kent Morgan examined the bullet, and then ,
handed it back to Goodheart. Turning around,
he noticed the eyes of Wayne Ap leton search:
ing his face. A faint smile our ad his lips as
Appleton turned away.

“ What shall we do about— I mean how can
we help you, Goodheart?” asked Howard.

" No way. jest now. The boys an’ I’ll attend ' ' I

to Tom. But I'll come over to the town this
evenin’. Thor’s this Black John affair, and I
want somethin' to keep me from ‘thinkin’ too
much o’- him,”

Ike Goodheart mounted his horse. and then 7

the corpse of his brother was handed up to him.
Balancmg this across the saddle, he slowly rode
away. As he disappeared, the settlers retraced
their steps to Barrett’s, conversing in low, eager,
ones.

Kent Morgan had but little to say, and ap-
peared deep buried in thought. And the keen
eyes of Wayne Appleton often wondered  hat

pale. handsome fees, with an expression hat 

could not easily be read. 

An hour later Kent Morgan sat in his roOIn at
the hotel. Before him lay a'bullet-mold and i
several bullets. Each one bore the initials M.
0.; the same as that which had beenreitgacted '
from the bod of the dead man. Audibles he
sat thinking or along time. I ‘ ‘ ,1 ‘ . '

CHAPTER III.
, 'rmc nnrmxcr: ACCEPTED. .’ ,,
“I on) not think I could be mistaken; at first
sight I felt that i had seen him hetero. eudgthafi
quite recently. The bullet (51le it. ‘Thisj

 

man was with Black John, yesterday...  i

the one I shot down as he rode ethe ,
And yet—these men grieve over him/u t 13;}:
he had been the most faithful and honorableiof
friends, instead of a masked renegade and out»;

. .

law. . .,
“And the brother-—this Ike Goodheart—‘kfoei ,_

he know or suspect the trutbl That these was
love of no common strength between the 1

no one could doubt, after a look at that We
face. At least there was no counterfeit!!!
there. And he means every word. of that not _
-of his vow of vengeance. But does he 7mm ,
or does he believe that hisbrether was

i 1

 

 

'1

x,:

t

.4

   
    
   
   
 

 

 

 

m
ed by the outlaws—by Black John? Hw’t;
seem possible that the two could live together, ~
be brothers, and yet one W2 to such an or-
ganization without the other: being full ' ' ‘
of the truth. And it he daaknd ’

  
  

 

 
 

 
 

 
  

 

w ,
Goodheart knows who shot- Whether—find.“

 

knows, too, why it was height for the marked
bullet. He must know that I '
story and know it to be tel

  

 
  
  
      
 
 

know why I held my peace and dl 11%de 

 
 
 
 

the man all supposed to' have tottin

dered, as a‘ vii sin and an outlaw whohad‘ "
met with a. richly-deserved ,punishugentifi
haps he attributesmysllence to learn-that

threats of Vengeance frightened me: 

I .

 
     
 

  
 
    

 

   

 

 

   

Black John, the Road-Agent. 9

 

it be so, then. I must walk carefully, and keep
my wits about me."

Sitting with his gaze riveted upon the marked

bullets, Kent Morgan mused long and thought-
fully. Occasionally a sentence fell audibly
from his lips, but there were no ears near save
his own to hear it. Had there been such, the
settlement of .Barrett’s might have gained a
more correct idea of who this traveler really
was. ,
Morgan believed he could read aright the
story of the past few hours—could unite the
broken thread of the events that so perturbed
Barrett’s. He knew that this Thomas Good—
heart was none other than the outlaw who had
fallen at the same moment with his leader,
Black John, attacking the stage—coach. The
Road-Agents had removed their dead from the
field. Their next move was to avert the dis»
covery that threatened. Goodheart was a
prominent stock-raiser, respected and looked up
to in the settlement. Should it become known
that he had fallen as one of Black J ohn’s masked
riders, what would be the result? Suspicion
would be amused, and each man would become
aspy upon his neighbor. And this might end
in un leasant discoveries! The mask might be
torn mm other faces. 80, at least, Kent Mor-
gan reasoned.

The body had been prepared and conveyed to
the crossing on Little Timber. And then Ike
Goodbeart played his part in the drama. It had
been a success in so far as the settlers were con-
cerned. Not one among them suspected the
truth.

“If he was playing a part, then I must watch
my steps well. Though, for the sake of his dead
brother‘s honor, he’ll not dare accuse or attack
me openly, he was in deadly earnest when he
swore vengeance. He means to give these peo-
ple-another sensation, with my corpus m the
title-role. Forewarned, fore-armed, they lay,
and we’ll see which comes out first bestfi’ mut-
tered Morgan, his blue eyes sparkling brightly,
as be secured the mold and bullets, and then left
the room.

He had 'ust remembered that he had prom.
ised Mr. oward to take dinner with him on
that day, and it was full noon. The warm—
liearted settler could not find words enough to
express his thanks, for be sure the young ladies
had not lessened the danger they had run, nor
underrated the courn 6 shown by the male pas-
sengers. And Howar had included Frank K‘er-
vshaw and Wayne Appleton 1n the mutation.

Morgan already knew the house—a substan-
tial stone building, standing upon the edge of a
goodly-sized farm. that reached to the outskirts
of the village. He found that dinner was in
readiness, awaiting only his arrival. The stran-
fer received a cordial greeting, and after being

ntroduced to Mrs. Howard and the host’s fa-
ther, the table was occupied. I

Morgan talked but little, being unusually si-
lent for one of. his naturally dgay, careless spir-
Its. More than once a puzzle expressmn rested
upon his face, as he glanced across to where
Wayne Appleton sat. He felt a vague remem—

ance of having met this men under other and
very different circumstances; but he could go no
further. Beyond, all was confused.

 

He noticed, too, that Appleton acted as though
well acquainted with the twofounger ladies
though it was evident that r. Howard had
never met him before that day. Somehow,
even while forced to admit to himself that Ap-
pleton was ver handsome, witty, and a good
conversationalist, Morgan began to feel a pecu-
liar dislike for the stranger, and to watch him
with suspicious doubt. Had any one hinted at
this feeling being the offspring of jealousy. Kent
Morgan would have lau hed heartily. Yet it
was because Wayne App eton wore such an air
of deep devotion whenever he spoke to or listen-
ed to pretty May Howard, that this dislike was
gaining ground, for, if not in love with, Kent
was deep] interested by May. the black-eyed.
' Frank ershaw was in his glory. Mischievous
little Eunice was drawing him out very skill-
fully, and in a manner that brought his pecu-
liar foiblesinto full prominence. Such startling
statements, such marvelous adventures, did he
skim over;w ith the half-bored air‘of one to whom
such things were quite a matter of course. And
perhaps no one around the table believed these
wonders more implicitly than Frank did. It in
a settled fact among those who know him—and
this character is a live one at the present day,
though it is far beyond the power of my pen to
draw him to the life—that Kershaw can “die-
count ” Baron Munchausen at that worthy’s
own game, with a devout belief in his own fan-
tastic creations. I .

After dinner, Morgan and Howard resumed
the one subject of interest: what was to be done
in regard to the challenge of Black John? Then
the oung folks left the room, almost unnoticed

y t em.

The afternoon was ha'zy and cool, a fresh
breeze sweeping over the rolling prairie. Eunice
had led Frank oil! to view the garden; then.A
pleton spoke to May, who was now unusual
zubdued, a slight shade resting upon her fair

row.

“ Shall we walk as far as the maples yonder
Miss May?‘ The shade will be pleasant, and
there we can talk more freely than here.”

“ I have nothing to say that all may not hear
-—nor do I wish to listen to—” ‘

“But on must—I mean that I must. speak
out plain now, for the last time. You cannot
refuse to ear me, though those words may not
be pleasant  your ears,” rapidly returned Ap-
pleton, drawing her hand through his arm.

Evidently ill at ease, after a brief hesitation,
May yielded to his superior will, and they walk-
ed on to where a rustic seat stood beneath the
sturdy ma les. At a motion from Appleton,
Muy sunk own upon the seat, but he stood be-
fore her, pale and serious, a bright light filling
his eyes. _

“You have not a word for me now—you sit
there in silence as cold as though we were per—
fect strangers—as though the warm, passionate
words of love had never passed between us.
May—in God’s name tell why you have chan -
ed—what is this that has come between us!" 6
said, in a voice that trembled with ill-sup-
pressed emotion. _ .' _

“ I should not think lyou would need ask me
that, Mr. Appleton,” co dly replied May How-
ar .

 

w-» A A

 
 

 
  
 

 

10 Black John, the Road-Agent.

 

 

“ I understand on,” and his proud head
drooped a little. ‘But I was innocent: I was
first lured into drinking. and then betrayed by
a man who had sworn he was my faithful
friend. You hear m defense—it was published
in the papers of the ay, and all of them. joined
in laughing at and casting ridicule upon it. But
sure! youvdo not think 1 was lying?"

“ r. Appleton, why bring up this'matter
again when nearly a year had sunk it into oh-
]lvionl It can do no good—it can only end in
disappointment for both of us. As I told you
before, the past is dead and buried forever.’

“It‘ cau«it must live nguinl Think how
he. p we were then, loving and beloved. I
on y i ed while with you —I worshiped you——”

‘ Mr. Appleton, if this is all that you have to
say to me, 1 willbld you good-day. I can listen
noiouger,” coldly said May, arising to her feet.

“ And yet the, time was—not so many months
since—when you told me that you loved me,
when you fully reciprocated my vows—"

“You make me speak lmrsh words, despite
myself, Mr. Appleton. As vou say, the time
was—but it is not now. Thm, I believed you
represented yourself—a man of honor, a gen-
tlmgeu in the truest sense of the word, and not

T‘Why‘do you hesitatel-wvhy not finish with
thewords upon your tongue? When I was not
a‘ convicted [elem—before I was branded with

. the name of thief~burglarl The words are

simple and easy spoken; then why hesitate?"
bitterly said Wayne.

“You forced this upon me. I did not wish

' to say so much, but you pressed me for an an-

swer, and I could only speak the truth,” quietly

repliéad May. , ,

‘ toy—donot leave me yet. If I have said
ought to offend on, forgive me. My mad love
for you has so c lunged me that I scarcely know
myself. And then this last year has been a
very hard and trying one to me. I l have suffer-
eda thousand deaths in it, not for my bodily
sufferings, though they treated me like a dgg
until I made my escape, but because I fear
that you would learn to loathe and despise me
believing me guilt _ of all they said. But i
swear to you now, y my hopes of. a hereafter,
that I was and um innooentl’

‘ ‘9 For your own sake, I should be glad to be.
lieve this.” I _

“You speak as though the mhtter had no
interest to you—as though I were a perfect
stranger!" ‘ ’ ‘

“18 k as I feel. You force me to speak
plain words, though they ust he disagreeable
toyou. And since 5.0 11) ch has been said, the
subject may as Well he settled now, once and
for all. You say that once I confessed that I
loved you. I do not deny it. I was but a sim-
ple country girl, unused osoclety. You sought
to win my love, as I firmly believe, merely as a
kill-time. You were handsome. polite, a‘ eu-

- £10m in manners and dress. Little won er,

than. that I believed you, ahd turned a
deaf ear to those who would ban warned me

wast -trustiu you. At that time I fan-
‘ c «has! lovged (luv—perils I did, in a

./_

mini-s; but that be: not mat r now. You
know, the and, You ware arrested, tried

  

, _

 

and le'e go for lam!” -

convicted. True, you declare yourself the vic-
tim of a conspiracv. But other matters came
out through the trial, erough to disenchant one
for more deeply in love with you than I was.
The scales fe I from my eyes then. and i saw
what a blind fool I had been. But thank Godl
the discovery did not come too late.”

“ But I was innocent——"

“Still, that can make no diff renoe.
over between you and. I. Only hat I desired
to avoid a scene, I should have acted differently
from what I have today. You have only your-
self 'to thank for this reopening of an old
wound.” . '

It was a strange sight. that mud-looking
man standing there with bowed end. his face
ghastly pale, listening to such cutting Words
from the lips of the woman he so madly loved.
And May, offended as she was, felt a thrill 0.!
pity as she looked upon him. -

“ You are very cruel—it is a fair face to cover
such an unrelenting heart,” Appleton said hits
lerly, his eyes beginning to glitter, his pale
cheeks to flush as the words stung home. “And
once I believed that you could lovo! But then
—I do not care to reproach you. Perhaps I de-
serve it all. Yet I never like to begin a thing
without carrying it to an end. I came here to-
day intending to learn my fate, to ask you if
you would make good your vow of last yeir.
I ask you now: May
wife?"

“And I answer you, no.
answer, and unless you wish to/insult me, you
will not give me occasion to repeat it,” coldly
replied May. ’
“‘I shall not repeat the question again. Good

by.
May coldly bowed her head and swept put
him, unnotieing the outstretched hand. Apple's

  
   
  
 
 
   
   
  
   
 
 
      
 
  
 
    
  
 
  

ton stood motionless, watching her until she re- r’

entered the house, then turned and strode 'Pflps
view, his assumed, composure vanished. and
flung himself upon the groundin a
grass like some wounded snake.
rairie waves when Wayne
0 the hotel. But then his fate bore noter of
the terrible struggle: ho was the some cold.
proud mannered man of that morning. He en-

already collected, and joined in the, debate.
If he possessed no other talent, Wayne‘Apph—
ton was a 200d actor. ,

The' settlers round and the inhabitantoof
Barrett’s had c lee Most to a man; The
main subject under ’
of Black John. Thereseemed to
oplnhn regarding it: the bold Ins

  
  

the Twin
by a pitched battle, but V_
that the defiance covet-ode trap. - '

 
 

how to use the We' 5 the ken-y
Abram Leigh; “Blue John 011th 

All is

award, will you be my'

That is my final;

idly away. As the grove shut the house 2mm ,_;{

. pamxysinot‘
rage and mortlflcation, growling m the damp ’ _-

The sun; had nearly disap sated behind-the,
ppleton returned ‘

tOI’Sd the bar-room where a number of settlers ’
ha

“, ‘ we , .

avenged. A number were brawn-of  " 
Mounds. and thus decidingthem .
were W:

“ We kin muster forty good men; in  V

 

- -

 

   
 

   

  
 
  

to give us much bother, he’s 50*
to help him. which ain’t likely. ‘

  

  

 

 
  

 
 

" But he won’t fight fair. It’s more like he‘ll
try a ’bushment ’long the road.”

” 'Bushment be durned! Ain‘t thar more than
one trail crost the prairie? More like he did it
jest for devilment, thinkin’ we’d bluff.” .

” May he not have some design upon the vil-
lage here! By drawing you away to the Twin
Mounds, the coast would be clear for him to
swoop down and work his will before we could
get back,” suggested Morgan.

“ We kiu leave enough fellows at home to
sp’ile that game, and still hev a-plenty to has;
him at the Mounds. I say—le’s go. An’ all
those who don’t want to be called darned goose-
livered cowards. ’ll j’ine me,” hotly cried Leigh.

That speech settled the aflair. Not one among
them all would hold back after such words.

Then the question was more fully discussed
and a company of Vigilantes regularly organ-
ized.

Some little difficulty was found in selecting a
leader, for, in successmn, Curly and Howard de-
clined to serve. But then, Appleton, whose
counsels had been acceptable to the majority,
Consented to serve as captain for the time.

The party then separated, returnin to their
homes to make preparations for the ri e and an-
ticipated struggle. With early dawn they were

 

to take the trail.

CHAPTER IV.
ovrwxmn.

As the first faint streaks of gray n to
brighten the eastern horizon, the sound 0 hoof-
strokes filled the little village of Barrett’s. The
Vigilantes were gathering for their ride to ac-
cept the challenge of Black John. There were
pale and anxious faces among the women, though
the tears that dimmed their eyes were not suf-
fered to fall. They knew that a collision be-
tween the rival forces would beastern and
desperate one, in which more than one men
might lose his life. And to them the face of the
dead was ever that of him most dear to their
hearts.

’The only dela was that occasioned by the
drawing lots to ecide who were to remain as a
guard at the village. ose whom fate selected
were far from pleased. They did not relish the
idea of bein forced to remain at the vilage in
in lorious igleness, while their comrades were
an oying themselves in the wild, intoxicating
skirmish or hand-'to—hand conflict. But, though
muttering bitter curses upOu their crooked luck,
not one rebelled. '

And from the village, through theparrow
tract of sparse] -timbered land, the Vigilantes
entered upon t e broad, rolling prairie. The
Party was composed'of nearly two-score men,
self—reliant and courageous, armed to the teeth
with weapons that had been familiar to them
Since early boyhood. They were for the most
In"? men “ worth their wei ht in Wildcats in a
rou hand-tumble” or hen -to-hand fl ht, na-
tum "born skirmishers, their tactics earned
from the wild beasts and the no less crafty red-
sldn; men who won victory in their own way,
not by blindly following any particular system
of ta ics. '

The party were, for the most part, mounted

Black John. the Road-Agent.

 

    

11

upon that mongrel breed of animals, unsurpass-
ed in any country for long and steady going be-
neath the saddle, the half-breed mustang—the
“Indian pony.” With the spirit that even a
long day’s travel cannot entirely subdue, the
animals pranoed and curveted at the unwonted
restraint of a tightly-drawn rein,dashing the
sparkling dew-drops from the bending blades of
grass, scaring the rabbit, or occasionally its
overgrown brother, the jackass—rabbit, from its
form, flushing the quail and prairie-chicken
from their grassy coverts. Anon a fleet-footed
deer or antelope would dart out from some
clum of shrubbery, disappearing over the
prairie swell like some phantom of the gray
dawn, uuheeded, unnoticed by its usual enemy,
save, perchance, by a passing lance. For the
time being they may pass toll- ree, formore ex-
citing sport fllls the minds of the prairie-riders.

In the midst of the party rode Frank Kershaw,
far from being at ease. A “city-man,” Frank
was scarcely up to these free-spirited. rairie-
born horses. He had been furnished by homas
Howard with a mount second to none in the
band; but Frank failed to appreciate the kind-
ness. The poor fellow was enduring the “tor—
tures of the damned.” .

The ray would try to free its head, its mus-
tang hlboo on fire with rivalry. Frank would
tug convulsively at the reins until the cruel
curb almost broke the animal’s jaw, at the same
time closing his bony legs close to the pony’s
side, when the sharp spur acted as a counter-ir-
ritant. A series of plunges was the result, in
which, only for the high-horned Spanish saddle,
Keishaw would scarce have escaped an igno-
minious tumble.

“ Don’t hold such a tight rein, stranger. Darn
it all—you‘ll git the critter to buckin’, and then
you wi l he gonel” expostulated Curly.

“ I—I don’t think I m Well—I feel so queer,”
faintly muttered Kershaw. “If I only knew
the road back, I behave I’d go home. I fear I'm
going to be ill!” ' - v

“I don’t reckon ’twould beanv greatloss if
you was to go back," muttered Abram Leigh.
disgustedly. “A goose-livered feller ain’t 0’
much a’count whar we’re oin’.”

"Sir!" exclaimed Kers aw, “do on mean
to insinuate that I am deficient in eit lfl‘ moral
or physical courage!”

” I don‘t mean to insinivate nothin’, hecaise I
don‘t know what the jawbreaker stan’s fer: but
if it’s anythin’ onbecomin’ a man, why you lit
in sayin’ of it.”

“Well, since on apologize, we will let the
matter drop. ’m not one to hold malice after
amends are made," jerked forth Frank, clinging
desperately to pommel and mane.

“ ’Pologize nothin’i I said I didn’t think
you’d be 0‘ much a’count in a scrimmage in this
Black John outfit, an’ I stick to it. I don't
sw’ar that you’re a coward. but if a feller was
to pay me to find him a raal coward, dnrn my
cats if I wouldn’t ax you to go with me to see
him. anyhow.”

“Peace, gentlemen,” interposed Wayne Ap-
pleton, speaking in the authoritative tone. of
one not unaccustomed to obedience. “This is
not the time for petty wrangling among our-
selves. Save your breath; if this defiance of

9

 

    

12

 

Black John, the Road-Agent.

 

 

Black John is genuine, it is ver likely that you
both will have your fill of fig ting before the
matter is ended."

“ All ri ht, Cap: 'ou’re boss here just now,
an’ I'll wa k the chal . But this much I do say
—-an‘ them as knows me ’11. tell whether I ever
go back on my word—«of the stranger pin 3 his
part like a "man when the pinch comes, ’ll ax
his pardon, an’ own up ’at I was wrong in my
guess. But of he don t—ef he shows the white
feather-of he turns tail an’ tries to crawflsh
out o‘ the mess, send me to everlastin’ glory, of
I don’t bore a hole through him big a-plenty to
kick a. yearlin’ colt through."

Perhaps ’twas as well that Frank Kershaw
was so fully occupied with his native charger
that he could not reply to this threat with the
retort he would otherwise have offered, for
Abraham Leigh was one of those hotblooded,
reckless, unreasoning animals that are seldom
found but upon the verge of civilization. A
man that his friends fear fully as much, if not
more, than his enemies, because they know
not at what moment, nor with what pretext. he
may turn upon them, for the moment a fiend
incarnate. A man who is “ sp’ilin’ for a scrim-
mage,” caring little whether his antagonist be
friend or foe so long as his pugilistic propensi«
ties be grati ed.

"Best steer clear 0’ that chag, youngster.”
muttered Curly, warningly, as e rode close
beside Kershaw. “ He’s on it, bigger’n a wolf,
he is. Thar ain’t anybody in the State that
keers to cross him, when the fit is on. I know
you ain’t afeard, hecaiselI b'lieve you’d nat’rallv
eat him up of once htarted, but you wouldn‘t
like to leave his wife an’ fambly pore lone wid-
ders, would ye?" v

“ For their sake I'll overlook his words, Mr.
Curly, provided he don’t say any more,” mag-
nanimously re lied Frank. “ I don’t suppose
he knows who am." V

The sun gradually mounted the horizon, its
warm ra s evaporating the heavy dew. A
fresh, boo breeze swept across the prairie, bow-
ing the grass-tips before its breath in waves
that seemed fleeing and pursuing, here and
there, in fantastic curves and angles, or else
long, regular columns. As far as the eye could
see, there was nothing but a sea of living green,
the gentle prairie swells closely resembling the
long, majestic rolling of the ocean. Not a tree
or a bud was to be seen. Nothing but the waist:
high grass, dotted here and there with the
hr lliant crest of some gaudy flower.

The Vi lantes rode steadily onward through
the sea 0 grass, following .no trail, but heading
direct for the Twin Mounds. If Black John
had calculated upon drawing the settlers into
an ambush along the regular trail, as had been
guggosfed, he would be disappointed in the

ope. '

More than one of the part chafed angrily at
the deliberate movements 0 their leader, who,
however, took no notice of them, until their dis—
satisfaction found vent in open speech. Then
he drew rein, and, with a gesture, commanded
attention. .

" Gentlemen," he said, and there was a pecu-
liar flrmnees underlying the soft, mua'maltone,
,that each man felt, “I hear you grumbling and

 

 

complaining among yourselves. What is the
matter—what is going wrong?”

“I reckon they think Black John'll git tired
o waitin’ for us,” promptly replied Leigh.
“ A! ’ 't do look like we was goin’ to a funeral,
ruthe than a scrimmage."

“You are impatient to meet this bull and
avenge the insult he offered on all, andyI am
glad that it is so. Though am a strangerto
the majority of you, I can 3 mpathiae with
your feelings. But to be pru out is notto be
cowardly. f you think fora moment, you will
see that I am taking the wisest course. In the
first place you say the Twin Mounds are thirty
odd miles from the villa e. ‘
we could possibly do the istance in two hours
and a half, but then what condition would our
animals be in when the Mounds were reached?
Totally used up, unfit for duty without a night’s
rest. And if I am not mistaken in this man,
Black John, as he is called. we will need all the
advantage we may have, before the affair is
settled. Is it likely that he would send such a
defiance unless he felt able to make the boast
good? True, it may be only a trick to give us
the ride for nothing. But in that case, we will
wish to return home rather than camp out for
the night.
with fresh horses, that one can depend upon,
rather than broken-down plugs.

“ At the rate we have been traveling, we can
make the Mounds by noon, or perhaps an hour
later. His challenge stated that he would await
our coming until sunset. That will give us
plenty of time.

“This is my reasoning, and the plan which
must be followed while I am acting as captain.
But, if it fails to satisfy you all, will resign
the position in favor of any other whom you
prefer as leader. I can see the fun as well,
whether I he captain or private.”

This terse, pointed speech was well received
by the settlers. They saw the soundness of his
reasoning and the fol yof their rumbling.) As
one man, they promised blind o ience A

leton, declaring that he and no other shou d
ead them, and even Kent Morgan, who was un-
accountany prejudiced against the stranger,
could not but admire his clear foresight. He
seemed a. born leader among such men as

ese.
A short time after this interruption there
came another that for the time bade fair to end
fatally. For several miles Frank Kershaw had
been progressing tolerany quietly. his horse
having fretted some of his extra spirits away.
Curly was riding beside Frank, pouring wen—
derful information into the greenhorn’s ear, all
the while maintaining the gravity of a statue.
At an unusually brilliant word-gaining of the
splendor of a gold—placer that urly possessed
upon his farm. Frank’s long at up spirits
found vent in a loud hurrah! an unconsciously
he plunged both spurs rowel deep into the flanks
of his one. Snorting with ain the animal
plunged forward. Naturally ers aw jerked
upon the reins, forgetting the cruel curbhit.
His mouth torn, the tortured beast reared up.
whinging half—round, and plunged madly tor-
war . -
_ Que hoof struck Curly full in the side, the‘

By hard riding. -

And if he is there, better meet him ,

L;

     
         

    
    
 
  
  

 

 

a ;

‘ —'I—mer-rnw- m.-1m.‘Vw—IFBQHH

vow-I—

 

 

 

 

”‘dl'yi “ you‘can see that I

 

Black John, the Road-Agent.

13

 

(other alightiug with crushing force u n the

borderer’s horse’s head. Both horses an riders
came to the ground together in a confused,
struggling heap.

For a minute all was confusion. Then the
settlers managed to extricate the fallen men,
and raise the horses to their feet. Frank was on-
injured save by a few trifling bruises, but Curly
had fared worse. Reelin , he sunk to the
ground half-insensible. The blow he had re—
ceived was a Severe one, and the horse had fal-
len across his legs.

A hasty examination, however, showed that
no bones were broken, and after a taste of corn-
whisky, Curly declared he was all right again.
It was found then that his horse was 'unnble to
travel; besides the gash upon his head, one leg
had been broken by the fall.

Still Curly declared that he would not be
cheated out of the anticipated scrimmage, and
mounted behind Abram Leigh. A istolvshot
put the crippled animal out of its in sery, and
then the par swept on at an increased pace
to make amen s for 0st time.

But as the numbness gradually grew less,
Curl began to suffer excruciatingly, until at
last a was forced to cry out. It seemed as
though he had been injured internally, the mo-
tion of the animal was more than he could bear.

" You’ll hev to leave me here, boys,” he said,
faintly though reluctantly. “ I cain’t stan’
the ridin’ but mebbe I kin do better afoot. I’ll
try an' git tothe Mounds in time to take a
hand in. I’d rather lost a hand then to miss it
——-dum the crooked luck i"

There was nothing else to be done, and so the

rty swept on, leaving the tall borderer gaz-
ing after them with eyes almost filled with
tears of disappointment, his chest heaving con-
vulsively. et. perhaps, had be known what
was to be the ultimate result of that accident,
he would have been content. Only for that
fact, much that follows would never have been
written.

It was full noon before the base of the nearest
of the Twin Mounds could be distinguished,
the h for an hour past their summits had been
viib . There was nothing remarkable in their
formation, but they had become a noted land-
mark from their being the onl hi h round for
miles around. They were pro by t ree hun-
dred feet above the level of the pro rie, standing
side by side. of precisely the same size and
aha . Their crests were covsred with broken
{‘00 s and bowlders, but the sides were clothed
in waist-deep grass. Not a tree, bush or shrub
broke the green surface.

“Thar goes a smoke!” cried Abram Lee, as
a slender column of dense black vapor ste'adil
amended from the .top of the nearest moun .

The varmint‘s is thar, waitin’ fer us~an‘ here
80‘“ “I the fu’st lick at ’eml”

‘Haltl" rang the clear voice of Wayne Ap-
ieton,as his white hand caught the borderer's

" ridle, jerking the horse back upon its haunches.

.‘Do you want to 3 oil all by your mad haste?
TVs! until! give t a word. .

V ow, my friends,” he, added, speaking rap-
, was right in my first
11. We are at the rendelvous, and our ani-

Imls are fresh, and ready, if needs be, for a

 

tail-on—eud chase. Then surely you can trust me
for the rest?”

“ You bet we kin! Go on—we’ll do jist as you
say,” was the general cry.

“Good! I shall not betray your trust believe
me. But now listen. Yonder are the Mounds,
and that column of smoke tells that our game is
close at hand. As you see, they have fair cover
among the rocks, and, doubtless, u n this fact
they rest their hopes of success. hey depend
upon picking us oif as we charge the mound.
And so they would were we to charge mounted,
as friend Leigh here was about to do. But k ok
yonder. The grass upon that side—hill is full
three feet high. By close creeping. we can get
to within twenty yards of their position; and
then, by a vigorous rush, the ’re our meat.
You understand me? Do any 0 you object to
this plan?"

“Where will we leave the animals?” asked
Howard.

“ On this side of the ravine, yonder. ’Twould
be hard work crossing with them, anyhow.”

There was not a voice raised in objection.
Appleton had acquired a wonderful influence
over the rough, hardy settlers, and if his reason—
ing was unsound, they did not notice it.

Even while he was speaking, the base of Ihe
smokecolumn broke and lest the creft of the
mound clear, the mass of black vapor floating
further and further away, growing more and
more dim, until lost among the ight, fleecy
clouds that flecked the heavens. Not a sign of
human life could be detected upon the Twin
Mounds. Only for the smokesignals. the Vigil-
antes might have believed their ride had been a
wild-goose chase. But that plainly evidenced
the presence of human beings upon the mound;
and who else could it be but the senders of the
insolent defiance? The prairies were not so
densel peopled as that.

Rid ng up to the edge of the ravine; the Vigil-
antes dismounted and tethered their animals to
the fringe of stunted bushes that grew along the
escarpment. Then. led by Wa ne Appleton,
they crossed the gully, and gli ed rapidly on
toward the Twin Mounds. Their attention was
mainly directed toward the nearest elevation:
the one from whose summit had arisen the
smoke column.

“Looki outlet is a man’s head and shoul-
ders!" crie Thomas Howard, when within sev-
eral hundred yards of the mound’s base.

“ The challenge appears to have been made in
ood faith, after all, though I must confess that
doubted it,” quietly remarked A pleton.

“ Shall we begin firing now i" 1! ed Kershaw,

nervously.

“ Don’t be a fool, man—we don’t carry cannon
with us. But one word more, my lads. Yonder
is the enem , and if we work it right, his strong
position wi l beno great advantage. B close
creeping, this grass will covar us anti near
enough to run in upon them. After that, on
know what to do. So scatter out and rep
down in the grass. Then creep on as clone as
you can, und soovered. When you hear my
cry, dart in, and when you strike, remember
the insults this Black John and his band of out-
throats have heaped upon you,” hurriedly said
Appleton. ‘

.

 

14'

 

Black John, the Road-Agent.

  

 

 

The Vigilantes sunk down into the grass, dis.
appearing like phantoms. No sound betrayed
their progress—nothing but a slight swaying,
bending of the prairie-grass; and even that
seemed the work of the wind. Many a time
and oft had the settlers, in a like manner,
stalked the wary deer and timid antelope; but
now a bi her game filled their eyes.

With t e others, Frank Kershaw sunk down
and began crawling along; but not for far. Of
course he was not afraid; Frank would have
challenged to mortal combat any one who dared
hint at such a thing. But he was tired. The
long ride had exhausted him. This recollection
assailed him in full force as he came across a
small hollow in the rairie, and Kershaw curled
himself u in the ole, feeling much better
than he id when steadily nearing the chosen
fastness of Black John. And there he awaited
the issue.

Abram Leigh was one of the foremost of the
stalkers, burning with eagerness, impatiently
listenin for the signal of assault, even while
advancmg further up the mound. With char-
acteristic recklessness, he crept close enough to
peer into the irregular pile of rocks and bowl-
ders that thickly covered the hiltcrest. Sud-
denly his eyes lit up with an eager glow, and
he raised the muzzle of his rifle. Scarcer ten

ards from his position he beheld a battered
cit hat, just above along bowlder.

As the silver drop covered this, he fired, then
leaping to his feet with a wild yell, darted for-
ward with drawn‘revolver. Answering yells
came from the hillside, but none others. In
amazement, Abram Leigh stood still, while his
:omrades rushed forward, eager to meet the
ca. ,

But the mound was deserted by all save the
Vigilfintes. Leigh had fired at an old hat upon
a roc .

Yet the ashes of the fire that had sent up the
smoke‘column were still smoldering upon the
rock, and other unmistakable evidence of the
mound having been lately occupied lay upon
every side.

“Look yonder!" cried ,Kent Morgan, inting
toward the second mound, a distance 0 nearly
quarter of a mile separating the two summits,
as the crow flies.

There, among the gray rocks, could be dis-
tinguished a number of human figures. But
why had one mound been abandoned for the
other, when both were equally secure?

“Boys, they‘ve fooled us!” cried Appleton,
gointing along the back trail, as a faint yell

roke the air”

 

CHAPTER V.
RACING AGAINST nun.

A LONG, oxultant yell came up from the
prairie—a; yell that confirmed the emphatic
words of Wayne Appleton. And, with that
one exception t e settlers stood in speechless
amazement, whil their cunning foemen were

reaping the reward of their strategy. .
1 Above the tops of the stunted bushes that
fringed the further edge of the prairie ravine or
harranca, could be distinguished the horses of
But as Ap-

the settlers as they had been left.

    

 

    
  

    

pletou uttered the cry that terminates the last
chapter, a change came. Fully a dozen human
forms leap out into the open, from the ravine.
The horses snort and leap back, but are quickly
checked by their tethers. And, as the exultant
yell soars over the prairie to the ears of the
men upon the mound, each of the human figures
leap into a saddle. Then, after a brief confu-
sion, they turn and ride rapidly away from the
ravine, leading with them extra animals. The
Vigilantes saw this and were powerless to pre—
vent it. And, adding insult to injury, once
more the loud yell and taunting laughter came
floating to their ears as the enemy rode away
upon the stolen horses.

“ A cute trick, an’ played ekil to a Cheyenne
or a ’Rapahoe!" muttered Abram Leigh, twist-
ing of! a “ chaw."

"But why are we standing idle here, while
they are every moment increasing their advan-
tage!" said Kent Morgan.

“ What kin we do, stranger?" coolly retorted
Leigh. “Kin we outrun a boss-critter when a
it’s got a good quarter the start? I reckon not.
Then what’s the use 0' tryin’?"

“ A glorious day’s work! To set out after
Road-Agents, and have to return home dis-
mounted!” l

“Expecting to shear, but being shorn——’tis ,1
cursedly provoking. But we may tare better,
after 3111., See—yonder mound is still occupied.
If we do lose our animals, perha we may yet
acromplishour main object," sai We no.

“ Or make a clean job of it by getting whip-
ped instead of whipping—for those fellows yon-
gsr sure fully our force, if not superior in num-

rs ' '

 
 
 

l
l
l
r
l

" Let them be ten to one if they will—we are
not cowards. Those that fear the result had
better wait here until we clear the nth for
them," said Appleton,with a disagreeah e sneer.

“ It you mean that for me, I can follow wher— .
ever vou dare lead,” retorted Mar nu. .

“Darn your long-winded cliche —clack any-
how—your wusser’n so many women!” disgust-
edly cried Lei h. “ Follow me,boys—here goes
for the first 5 elp on yonder hi] i” and as he
spoke the hot-headed settler leaped far down the
h llside, breaking into a pace that would almos
have distanced an antelope or coyote. ‘

The example was contagious. One after an-
other the Vigilantes sprung forward, each striv—
ing to distance all others, and be the first upon
the second mound. Forgetting their momentary
spat, Appleton and Morgan were with the fore-
most. ,

The people 11 n the second hill were on d
together, seemigiogly ready to repel the gmafiit.
They lainly bore weapons, and were fully
e ual, if not superior to the settlers in numbers.

his, added to their vantage of position, made
the mad assault appear folly. '

The base of the hill was reached, but the set-
tlers did not pause for breath. They were thor— ,
ougth aroused, and their blood ran hi 1: with ' '
rivalry. Nor did those upon the summt 0 on
fire, though their weapons were surely e as ,to
the distance, but one of their number an denly’
leaped forwardwith'a loud, clear cry, waving ,
above his head a whitely-tanued skin! ‘ ,

As if by the same impulse, the ,Vigilantel

 

ww-iwwiwwuV-‘Un |

 

Black John, the Road-Agent.

 

18

 

paused, their gaze riveted upon this man. A
001: of doubt gradually overspread theIr coun-
tenances. Could it be that they had made a
mistake after all!

“That IS Shikachetishl" exclaimed Howard,
blankly. ‘

“Bad-Wolf, by the jumpin’ J upeteerl" inter-
rupted Abram Leigh, lowering his rifle.

he rest of the party stood in speechless
amazement at this transformation of. their hated
enemy into a parcel of peaceful Indians. They
scarce knew whether to rejoice or be angry.
They were puzzled most thorou hly. I

“What has the Kickapoos done that their
white brothers hunt them like dogs?” demanded
Shika-chetish, lowering the flag of truce, speak-
ing in his own tongue knowing that several of
the settlers understood the patuis.

“We are looking for enemies, chief, and
thought we had found them here. Were you
upon the other mound, yonder, a short time
ago?” promptly returned Wayne Appleton.

“ Yes. The mounds are not the cornfields of
the pale-faces. They are not fenced in like a
corral. They are free to the foot of the Kicka-
poo—or is that a crime, too?”

“Easy, chief; don’t get your back up for
nothing,” coolly said Appleton. “It will save
time _if you answer such questions as we ask
you, in as few words as possible. And for your
awn spke, I trust your answers will be satisfac-

. he Kickapoo turned and glanced rapidly
over his band. and then contrasted it with that
of the force of the settlers. A grim smile briefly
curled his lip; but then his face resumed its
wanted ex ression of stolidity.

Bad-W0 t’ is a character that many still living
in Kansas will recognize. In more than one
way he made his mark. Cruel, crafty, and
treacherous, he was undeniably a brave man.
At one time he had been a noted chief of his
tribe, but when jealousv and artisan spirit
broke the tribe into different c ans, Bad-Wolf
found himself the leader of not more than a
hundred braves. But they were the flower of
the tribe, devoted to him, body and soul. Led
by their idolized chief, they would have hurled
themselves upon certain death. And now they
stood with ready weapons. their e es watching
every movement of Bad-Wolf, rea yto obey his
sli htest gesture. Both parties stood above a
v0 cano: a single spark might cause their de-
struction. - '

“Speak on; the ears of the chief are open,” be
briefly said.

. “You were on that mound and saw as com-
lng; Why did you send up the smoke signal!"
as ed Appleton.

“ The sun was in our eyes; we thought you
Were enemies. The coyotes with the black and

-whlte faces have uncovered the tomabawk and

stuck the war-pole. They say that the Kickapoo

YOB are in their way. and that they will
sweep them from off the prairies. We thought
tgzggbey were coming to make their threats

-“ lint the smoke!"
»“ l" and Shikachetish flung out one

hand. pointing to the went.

far of! over the prairie swells could be dis-

 

 

tinguished a. compact body of horsemen, ra id
ly galloping down upon the Twin Mounds. g‘or
a moment the settlers were startled, believing
that Black John and his band were a proach-
ing in answer to the Kickapoo signa , and if
they were allies, there could be but one result.
The chief seemed to read the doubt written up-
on their faces, and quickly added:

” They are my braves. They have been seek-
ing the double-faced men. ut my brothers
need not fear; the Kicka are their friends."

“ Fears! an’ of a re -skin? A leetle more
sech talk, an‘ you’ll git hurt, old man—you hear
me I” cried Abram Leigh, contemptuously.

“ This is an idle waste of time—and that may
be precious now. Ask him what connection he
has with those men who stole our horses,” im-
patiently cried Kent.

Appleton repeated the question, but the chief
did not appear to comprehend him. A puzzled
expression rested upon his crafty features, and
not until the Vigilante chief reiterated his
words, did Bad-Wolf make any answer.

He declared that he knew nothing whatever.
of the matter; that he had retreated from the
mound, between him and the suspected enemy,
hoping thus to gain time durin which the rest
of his braves might come up In answer to the
smoke - signal. Until that moment he had
known nothing whatever of the horses being
stolen. .

“Mebbe that’s the truth, but darned ’f I
don’t believe you are lyin’," candidly uttered

igh.

The chief scowled angrily, and one hand
dropped to the knife-hilt at his girdle. With
one accord his braves flung forward their rifle-
muzzles, with fingers upon the triggers. Quick
as thought the settlers imitated the movement.
A desperate, deadly collision seemed inevitable,
but Vi ayne Appleton leaped forward and in a
loud tone commanded peace. After a moment’s
hesitation, ,Shika-chetish motioned the bravss
back, and then, with uplifted hand, made a po-
culiar gesture. The mounted savages upon the
prairie below abruptl‘y drew rein and remained
motionless, quarter 0 a mile distant.

“Does that look as though Shika—chetish was
an enemy i” he uttered, in a quiet, cold tone.

“ No—my young man did you wrong: but he
did not mean what he said. We know that the
Kickapoos are our friends. But listen: will you
lend or sell us new horses?” .

“No. We have taken the war-path against
the double~faced men. Until their scalps drag
in the dust, there is no trading or hunting in our
hearts,” coldly said the chief. ' -

“We can’t force him to do it. friends. I
don’t see but what we’ll have to foot it back to
the village.”

“And the sooner we do that, the better. I
fear there is more in this matter than wssee
upon the surface. I believe we have been out-
witted from first to last—that Black Johnsont
that challenge just to draw us away from home,"
cried Hovwrd, uneasily.

“But for what—what object «and he
haw?” . , - .
“ God knows! [only feel that, there—is mu-

chief brewing—that our dear ones at home are
in peril. I can’t drive the thought away—at has

/

 

 

been haunting me since this morning when we
first started.”

The words of the settler found an echo in the
heart of almost every man present, and a vague,
undefined fear sprung up in every heart as they
thought of their loved ones left almost defense-
less in their homes. Thus it needed but the cry
of Howard to set them in motion.

“ Come—back to the village! There’s devil-
try going on there—I know it—I feel it in my
heart!”

As he spoke he darted down the hill-side,
closely followed by the Vigilantes. As though
taken by surprise, Wayne Appleton remained
behind for a moment, speaking earnestl with
Shika-chetish. But then he darted swi tly af~
ter the excited settlers.

As he darted past the other mound, the form
of a man sprung up before him, rubbing his eyes
violently. It was Frank Kai-show, who started
from his grassy nest as the settlers swept by.

“ Whore ’ve you been?” gritted Appleton,‘

fiercely with a suspicious glance around.

“ I—i fell asleep as we were crawling through
the grass. You see, [couldn’t sleeplast night——
had the hi htmare, I believe. But the— Are
they killed The road-agents, I mean.”

“ No; they are after us now. Unless you
wish to be scalped alive, young man, you’ll
keep up with us. It's only a bit of a run—some
thirty miles—and we‘ll be safe when the village
is reached. But remember, keep up with us, or
your life isn’t worth a copper,” grimly said Ap
pleton, increasin his ce. scramblin through
the barranoa w th t e skill and co erity of a
mountain goat.

“Don’t—don’t go so—fast, please,” g d
Kenhaw. “ Not that I’m afraid—don’t th nk
that—but I wouldn’t like to—deprlve you all of
a share in the-glory of exterminating these
devils!"

Appleton laughed shortly, and running with
chest squared and head erect, forged ahead of
the young man, who in vain strove to emulate
his speed. And thus, strung out-as the swifter-
footed gained upon the other, the settlers raced

, over the prairie, a sickening dread gradually
gaining ground in their hearts. It was a race
such as none among them had ever entered into
before- thirty miles of rolling prairie to be
cro. , where there was no trail, where the
stiff grass grewr nearly waist high, twisting
about their feet, more than once causing an
awkward fall; but then another would take up
the running, thus partially breaking the way
for these who followed. It was a terrible, kill-
ing race; but the settlers thou ht not of them-
selves scarce felt the fatigue t at caused them
to feel and stagger like drunken men. Steadin
the panic had gained upon them, until, as the
village was neared, each man believed that the
race would end beside the lifeless bodies [of all
that he held most dear upon this earth.

As the ridge was gained from which the first
glimpse could be caught of Barrett’s. a gasping
cry of joyful relief broke from the lips of the
foremost men. The village still stood seeming-
ly peaceful and undisturbed. In that moment
t 0 reaction came, and for the first time since
leaving the Twin Mounds, the Vigilantes drop
pad in o a walk.

  

Black John, the Road-Agent.

 

 
 

 

 

They saw the village spring into a sudden life, .r
and in the red rays of the descending sun they 1
could distinguish men, women and children "
flocking toward the point from which they ap—
proached.

“I reckon this hes bin 9. durned fool day’s v
work, from send to eend,” growled Abram '
Leigh, hoarsely. “ We went out on four legs,
an’ come back ’th only two!”

From out the grou beside the village, a single .

horseman rode swi tly toward the returning '
Vigilantes. As he drew rein before them, they
read black news in his face, even before he
spoke.
“ oys, thar’s bin the devlltopay here! Black
John au’ his cut-throat ang hes bin here, an’
kerried of! with them Ifiward’s gals— Thar!
look to him!” he added,as Thomas Howard
started back with a faint cry, reeling, falling to '
the ground.

The blow had been too much for him in his
greatly exhausted state. It had felled him as
though with a death-stroke. Kent Morgan and
others bent over him, tryin
sciousness, while the rest
rider with eager questions.

ormed around the

“I don’t rightly onderstand it myself,” he 7

added, with a puzzled air. “ We was led off on
a wild-goose chase by that devil, Ike Goodheart,
an’ when we got off the harm was did. May
an’ Eunice was gone, an’ old man Howard was
dead—murdered by them ar’ very devils. I’m
dub’ous the old lady, too, has got her death-
blow. They say she goes from one fit into an-
ggheg, like a mad body. It’s a black, black day,

is! v

“But what’re we standin’ here like durned
gumpheads for? Ar’ we goin‘ to let them cusses
bluff us this-a-wayi Somebody say what to do,
for ge-minently sake I” spluttered Abram Leigh,
almost beside himself. -

“ The boys tuck the trail au' follered it to
Little Timber, but thar it was lost in the water.
They sent me back to see of you fellers had got
back yit.”

“ Come—if you are men, follow me l" gasped
Howard, stag ering to his feet. “ Help me
rescue my chi dren from that devil-oh, God!
why am I so helpless when I need all my
strength l”

“ Lean on us—we will take you toyour house
and then we will do all that men can to find
your children and restore them to you. This
shall be Black John’s last day ‘of evil~we will
never rest until both he and his cowardly ang
are dead and food for the buzzardsl" cried out
Morgan, hotly, but determinedly.

Helpless as a child, the stricken man was as-
sisted to his now desolate home—the home of
mourning and of death. Once there, he sunk
into a deathlike stupor, from which it seemed
that nothing could awaken him. And hour
after hour the kindly nei hbors watched beside
the two couches, that be 9 fair to be death-beds
before the rising of another sun.

The village wasleft almost wholly to the wo-
men and children that night. The Vigila’ntes,
worn and jaded, as they were with their long
race, mounted fresh horses and scoured the
prairie for miles around in the hope of 'over-
taking the kidnappers, or coming upon some

to restore his con- ’

 

 

 

 

Black John, the Road-Agent.

 

is

 

trace of their whereabouts. But the first rays
glithe morning sun shone upon them, unsuccess—
u .

By thistime they hdd nearly all learned the
{acts of the case—a. tale of black treachery in
go: 81:30li until then they had all respected and

Riding in hot haste, Ike Goodheart had re-
turned to-the village about the hour of palm,
bearing black tidings. He said the Vigilantes

been drawn into an ambush, composed of
Indians and Road-Agents, led by Black John.
,Outn‘umhered, they had ensconced themselves—
those Who had survived the first volley—dis-
patching him for assistance. Every man and
Imgocapable of bearing arms hud mounted and
, £0 ‘ wed his lead to the rescuu. In the conv
. ‘ fusion of the mad gallop Goodheart had given
them the slip, but not until they were miles
from home. _v

,Scarcaly had they leftwhen a band of masked
horsemen dashed into Barrett’s, and riding di-
not for the house of Thomas Howard, entered
:fii carried away both May and Eunice, leaving

'11:. Howard dead upon the floor, stricken
downrag he strove to defend his idolized grand-
fihlldwnh the teebla strength old age had left
an. .

m was the blow that Black John’s challen 9
had mashed! ‘ g
1 CHAPTER VI.

_ 110m monument.
011ng (TQS'I'IVAN muttered more than one hit-
ter curse , ainst the greenhorn whose careless—
ness had (1 sabled him as he saw the Vigilantes
ride rapidly away to heap the rendezvous, and
knew that he was not to participate in the wild,
_ exciting scrimmage that would follow the meet-
'r ing at ,therival Korean. And to one 0! his rock-
. less, dare-devil nature. this was a Very great
2 depri ution, since, now that the country was so
rapid y becoming “ civilized.” similar oppor-

"tnniti‘es were few and far between.
.. V‘y‘l’ll (3% it, anyhow,” he muttered, ti ht
,‘  ' is teeth, as a spasm of a pain s at
v ,, Immith is side. “ I kin take 5 hi her cut than
3 ‘ . they kin,l‘er the hen ons. Mebbe ’ll bein time
4 ;. torsgeituve fun—at don’t, ’twon’t be my fault,

~ on ow .

I ' ;,,,ith/indomitahle pluck, the borderer pressed
,fifi,‘ at times upping for breath that seemed al-
 like molten iron when it came. At times
_ 'wasforeed tohuIt and either support himself
, 1  - I‘Ifim his rifle or else sink down upon thedgrass

.  V ,. painat his breast bein so great an hard
‘9 heat. Yet as often won he start to his but

on, cursing the accident that so de-

wd press
W him: ' «
r “h .cd persever‘ance Curly Pressed on.

W, Whicwing now thati the‘road-
at the Twin Mounds, the

   
    
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

y lethal)"
stain,
twomflesto

 

 

  

g ms. ’  
want a straight answer, sn’, to an -

 

the right, had Curly heen'stauding. up, he must
have seen them, and would have known that
the alfair of the Mounds was over. But he lay
there buried in the yielding grass, panting,
gasping for breath, in blood flocked froth tinging
his lips. 80 strangely does Providence shape
our actions. This was the second link, Ker-
shaw’s careless riding being the first; the end
was to be a tragedy. _ -

Half an hour later Curly paused in his pain—
ful tramp, and shading his eyes, peered eagerly
forward. Just rising the next ridgeIhe could
distinguish the head and shoulders of a man,
evidently in hot haste. If his present course
was maintained, the two must soon meet.

"‘Who is it?" He‘s inahurry—hareheaded,
tool Kin it be that the boys haw been whipped
out?” muttered Curly, uneasily, as be we ed
the man. “Looks like somebody _was chasin’
'hiui— Ge—thunderl it’s that darned gree’nhorn
as crippled me up, skeered 'moat to death! The
peel: coward has got skeered atwhls own shud-
der. reckon."

Even in his pain, Curly could not resist the
impulse to give Frank a score, and, lag.
down in the grass. he crept alongto intercept
the In itive, who was running heavily and un-
stead y, as though nearly exhausted. When
about fifty net rated them. Curly rose
erect, with leveledr fie, crying out. in menacing
tones: >’ v .

“ Halt! thank-g? me‘your brains, or I’ll blow
yogrgueyefigtfl a med, ith f to

, aw an y pa w a _ o r-
ror' but as'he‘saw the leveled flamgayturned '
and sought to flee. The rifle a he. and stum—
blmg, Frank ten, uttering a s risk astbou
mortally wounded. Chuckling’uimly, Cur y
Tostivan approached him, reloading his rifle. ,

“ What u thunder you lyin’ down thar in the
grass fer?” he grainy demanded, in be gained
the side oi! the prostrate figure, touching Ker-
shaw with his foot, by no means gout! . r

lf‘rank slightly turned his head, a; a
quick glance at the speaker from his nearly-v
closed eyes. A snort of relief told that he rec—
ognized Curl . Then he sprung to bi! fest,
laughin land 3, though the voice was not 
markab stea y.

“Ha! a! I knew it was'you all the this.
gidii’i; ’1 (001 you nice! ~Goodljoke, ain’t mm. '

ur ' '

“lyt’ll do for once in a way, I reckon. I

thought you dropped as tho h you wasn't bad

skeered. But, say-where’s t rest 0' the fol-
lers?" ‘

“ What, don’t you know~haven’t you heard?
f‘I don’t know nothin’ w tookdpesky good
keer that ,I shouldn't wit your urned ales
ridin’. \ But what if 37’ mean, by drawin' that
long fecal Bum it, men, can’t ye speak outf’
new cried Testinu. ..
“ ey’re decor-rubbed out~mn¢he¢d+
33:: to glory—departed me life I on carer—
ol Black John,” solemnly (replied filt- .
but too

w. _ ,
fl“ka hotel» -r’n 'h’s
mch’isnplentys y! Dug

Ian:

,1: 

Batu

    

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 

   

 

18

Black John, the Road-Agent.

 

reckon you’d better give me one. Now whar is
the boysi’l quietly repeated L‘uriy, bk eyes
gleaming ominously.

“ Listen; I will a tale unfold~—” '

“ Untold your tail here, an’ it comes ofl, smack
an’ smooth right uhind your ears. Mind what
I tell 9.”

“ on have no poetrv in your composition."
disgustedly muttered Kershaw; then, catching
u glimpse of the devil glittering in Tostivun’s
eye, he hastil added: “I’ll tell you all about
it. We reac ed the Twin Mounds and found
the enemy there—about two hundred strong, I
should guess. That is,” as the borderer made a.
gesture of impatience, “ there may have been
one or two less than that, for of course I didn’t
have time to count them. 1 ave the order t9
char 0 them, and the boys no iy seconded my
eflor . Upthe first bill we rushed, they firing
all the time, rolling some of us over a every
’step. and closed with them hand-to~hand. Only
for a moment, however, for they fled in dismay.
As’ soon as we could gain breath ~we followed
them to the second mound. There We had it
hot and heav . We slaughtered the villains like

' u turkey-gob ler slaying grasshoppers. Blood

run down the hillside in streams, until, upon my
Vergeitypthu mound was an island! Yes, sir!
from thatll judgethe prodigies of valor we per-
formed. never led a braver squad in my life
—-not own at the forlorn ho ot—thot is, you
understand me," Kershuw a (led, slightly con-

\ fused at'the peculiar grunt of Tostivan.

“Durned ’f _I do, nuther. . Which whipped?”
' " There it 131 what can the bravest of men do
when outnumberedtWenty to one? The villains
were reinforced by about three hundred men—
and we retreated,'in good order, though. But
we tound that the Road-Agents had euthanized
us and co tured our animals. They tried to
stop us, bu we cut through them, strewing the
plain with dead and dying wretches. Thev fol-
owed on, and'we so hruted for safety. From
this point I can only ellyou of my ex rience;
from that you can judge 'the fate o the rest.
Six horsemen. followed me. For two miles I
race! with them, holdin my own with the
foremOst, while the live 0t ers were strung out
in a line. Then I wheeled and waited for him
toyoome up. With this revolver—at which you
were pleased to jest, yesterday—I shot him
through the brain. At the some moment his
horse stumbled and fell,breaking his neck. I had
meant to secure him as I wds tired goin afoot.
'But why dilute? You see—there is on y one
charge remaining in this weapon. I, fired six
shots~—nnd 1 do not often miss my aim. Yet,
unremarkable coincidence, every one of the
s x horsea‘stumbled and fell as I shot their rid-
ers, ovary one breaking their necks. That oc-
cnuntp for my still being afoot.”

"Boy, I reckon you was a lawyer when you
was t home, jedgm’ from the lib way you kin
lie; ’ harL~ on needn’t deny / I kin tell your
story, a. hen straighter’n ou king though it
mayn’t sound quite as in faluthir You got
sheared afore the Twin Mounds was reached,

- am’ turned tallt au’ run away. That’s my ’pi'nion,
14$;ka you to be the outlying“ oowu‘rd‘thnt
r’  up to be unman. , You needn’t mart afi’

 

 need: Anabel! so fierce, like ushédp. e! a;

Fer hate a cent l’d down ye across my knee, on
spunk ye until yer nose bled—an‘ darned of

mind that I”

Frank wilted. He saw that Tostivan meant
just what he said, and was a man who knew-
how to make his .words good. Curly stood in‘
deep thought for a few moments. Of course he
knew that Kersbuw was lying, but he knew the
he could not reach the Mounds in his present
condition much before midnight. Knowing
this. he resolved to make the best of his way
back to m the village. Telling Frank as much,.
he added: ' "

“You kin come, of you like, but I’d ’vioe ye
not. The b0 3 ain‘t partial to liars an’ new-
ards, nn’ meb ’11 take a nation to give you an.
ovarcoat o' tar an’ feathers, onless theyr string
ye up to the nearest tree, to save time.’ ‘ r

“ if they dare do that, the President shall
hear of it. He’s a particular friend—that 
I’ll go with you," he stammered, as Cnrly'vut-
tered a deep grewl of warning. ‘ ‘

Together the two started for the village, but
their progress was slow. OftenCurU would
sink to the ground, gasping for breath,ejeot-
ing blood from his mouth. But then he would
rise and stagger on. though every step was with
a splesm of pain. And thus it was nearly mid-
nig i; when the two men suddenly paused with
a startled air. . ,' '

A hollow groan came faintly to their ears. A

 

   

u

don’t do’it. too, the next lie you tell me. 8' JV'

\

6‘18’3?

.x‘..-'IRAQA~W ME .d

groan like that of u humun being in intensew V

    
  
   
   
  
   
  
     
   
 

agony yet neurly exhausted. Yet nothingbuta _
the tall, waving rues could be distinguished by
the clear light the twinkling atara.’ v 7' v
“It sounded from that direction—19’s one
around it this way ” {altered Kersh’uw, his teat .;
chattering like sentences." ' ‘
""You’re afeard—a’ter that wonderful'yurn.
you told. bruggin’ up your awful courage!"
sneered Gurly, coutemptuouuly.‘ . i
“ I’ ain’t afraid—«but it’mlght be a ghost l”- .
“I shouldn’t wonder at twee—the heat 0’,
them tellers on shot ofl.’ the? utumhlin mosses, '
boy. But, cat or not; here gOes to l'orn’tho~‘
truth. Au:.you,llgreehv—et you try to run

 

    
 

that gourdo’. rn, sure I ” "
Sinkingdo into the gross, Tostiv'ajn crept
cautioust thron the tangled growth toward l
the point frangw "nee the groaning soundflill
proceeded." Mflrb't‘he had vague suspicions of
‘eome trick, but us he neared thp'spot, he 
that the ground were genuine—that this who no
counterfeit anghisht ' ‘ i V
The groans underlined at almost‘thé same
moment the border“ beheld a. human held lift
ed ubovo the truss, pole. ghastly. pain _ ' ~.
A cry of wonderin surprise broke bliij
lips as he looped-to is feet. He had 1- , ' ' ’
this human!) *éit wnurthat of In G ' ‘ ‘
At the name-momenta malfim
hi1 visiou,’und a-otin ‘  ~
oily A m:

face. The-re?» :a:
uponthenigh sir“ " - g
. “Not yeti-words) M0430
ro ain’t twisted thet’ll hon -_.
awakens-mam  ‘
«I: cylinder ‘

     

   
    
 
 
  
 

 
  
 

  
   

   
 
 

   
 
  

  
 
 
 

  
   
  
 

 

    
  
 
 
  
 
 
 

  
  
 
 
 
 
  

 
  

   
 

    
 

   
 
  

TV

More I Wifmm'may, I’ll bore a hole through m .-

 

  
  

 
 

ill

'3 I

we who? art's-avg;

 

 

 

 

 

 

Black John. the Road-Agent.

19

 

“Hold! man—be ye crazy?" cried ’l‘ostivan,
leaping forward and clutching the loaded
weapon. “Don’t ye know better '11 to blaze
away at a fri’nd who’s ready an’ willin’ to help
ye .

“You—you’re not a fri’nd," faltered Good-
heart, as the pistol was wrested from his grasp,
Its charge being wasted upon the grass, the bul—
let whistling in close proximity to the head of
Frank Kershaw, as that worthy lay trembling
under cover. .

“Fer why ain’t I! Don’t be a fool, man!
What’s wrong wi’ ye, anyhow?" impatiently
added Tostivan.

“Hoes threw me—leg broke—I—” and the
head of the traitor sunk down in the matted
grass, like one dead.

But it was only a swoon. In the strug le for
Egssession of the pistol, his right leg, roken

th above and below the knee, was twisted
beneath him, and the pain was more than he
could endure. This much Curly ascertained,
and then routed Kershaw out from his grassy
covert, ordering him to go and cut a couple of
stout poles from a creek-bank that he knew was
only a short distance ahead. Kershaw obeyed,
though in now-lee relishing the task. since it
must be performed alone. But he dared not
cross the borderer.

Before he returned, Curly’s face had grown
much paler; a look of horror filled his eyes as
he hent_over the form of Goodheart, holding
him motionless upon his back. The traitor was
delirious, ravin wildly, yet not so incoherenlly
but thatvCurly ew that the wretch was black-
hearted and guilty of many crimes—that blood
had stained his hand—not in open fight. but the
blood of a murdered victim; that he belonged
to Black John’s hand—both himself and is
brother, so lately found dead. ‘

Swift retribution had overtaken the traitor.
even as he was exulting in the com lete success
of his bold scheme. He had slip away from
the settlers his artfullytold story had deluded,
and was riding at full speed toward the outlaw
rendezvous. to prepare for the coming of the
captives. when his horse stumbled, flinging him
violently into the rocky bed of the creek. For
hours he lay insensible, and only revived
as the cold dew of heaven fell upon his face.
Then, knowing that as soon as his foul treach-
ery was discovered hot and persistent search
would be made for him. he painfully and la-
horiously dragged himself out into the rairie,
in the vain hope of finding friends. e had
suffered agony the most intense with his broken
legubut the bitter dread urged him on and on,
until his groans brought Curly Tostivan to his
side. Believing Curly knew his crime, Good-
heart_had sought his life, in desperation. See-
ing his failure, being now disarmed, his senses
ha‘d given way. '

' *Though he could only guess at the details,

Carly gathered enough sense from the broken,
disconnected ravings to knew that a tragedy
hfld been enacted at Barrett’s in which this man
had played a treacherous part, and he resolved
{hat those most deeply inglnred should be the
Judges to decide the traitor s fate.

Mebbe ’tWar est as well that I got that

jumble, a’ter all} he muttered thoughtfully,

 

“ Ef I hedn't this varmint ’d ’a‘ got clean away,
or also died like a dog on the perairie. Mebbe
the boys kin skeer the truth out 0’ him about
this Black John. Ef so, durned et' I don’t for-
give greeny his awkwardness, an’— Hello! here
he comes now.”

Kershaw had managed to secure suitable poles,
and in a few minutes they had fashioned a. rude
litter, aided by their outer clothing and the
stout, tough prairie—grass. Upon this they laid
the cripple, and, not a little to Kershaw’s aston-
ishment, Curly bound him hand and foot to the
goles, so that his head was the only member

oodheart could move. And then, each man
bearin the end of one pole upon his shoulder,
while t 8 other ends dragged upon the ground,
they took up their long and wearisome journey.
Though the pain in his breast seemed growing
less acute, Curly was often forced to rest, while
poor Kershaw, totally unused to such rough ex-
periences, could scarcely keep aWake.

The sun was full two hours high when they
first sighted the village of Barrett's, and, com-
pletely exhausted, Curl sunk down upon the
ridge, firing shot alters ot from his revolver.
The repor ts were heard, and nearly a score of
men came straggling out of the settlement, half-
dressed, as though just roused from sound
sleep. .

A yell of eXecration greetedthe pale, haggard
captive, and for a time it seemed as thong he
would be sacrificed upon the spot b the men he
had so cruelly deceived. But Cur y stood over
l-im with his remaining revolver. and swore to
shoot the first man who touched the prisoner to
do him injury until he had had a fair trial be—
fore JUDGE Lyxcn. And reading death in the
tall borderer’s eyes, the settlers calmed down,
and dragged the litter into the village, others
assisting Curly.

Though the rest did not notice it, one man
turned pale, and shrunk back as he met'the gaze
of the prisoner. And as the captive was carried
into the bar-room. this same n~an glided away
unobserved, and five minutes later was gallop-
ing swiftly away from the settlement.

Had be gone for help-or was he fleeing to
save his own life?

There was little delay in making preparations
for the trial. Nearly a l the Vigilantes who had
ridden to the Twin Mounds the day before, were
there. They had been snatching a few hours’
rest, when the shots of Curly aroused them.
The rest of the settlers new still in the saddle,
searching for the kidnapped maidens.

As order was called, it was noticed that their
chief was absent. The name of Wayne Apple-
ton was loudly called; but no reply came. nd
yet he had been among those who went out to
meet Curly Tostivan.

The captive smiled grimly as no answering
voice came. Kent Morgan noticed the peculiar
expression, and the ,old suspicion renewed itself
in his breast. But he said nothing. _

“Whar’s the use wastin’ timei. gruflly cried
Abram Leigh. “1 move that Curly Testivau
take the posish.” '

The motion was promptly seconded, and after
a momentary hesitation the borderer consonted.
If not strictly legal, his ministrations were
prompt. ‘

 

   

20

“Ike Goodheart, I reckon you know what
you’ve done—did you do it or not~--yes or no?”

“ What am I ‘cused of?" sullenly demanded
the prisoner.

“ 0f bein' one of Black John’s gang, an’ of
lyin’ to an’ foolin' the folks of this ‘ere settle-
ment. gin‘ally.’l

“You cain’t kill me fer playin’ off a joke, I
reckon, an’ I haiu’t done nothin’ more. How’d
I know that them fellers was jESt waitin’ for a
chance to slip in here?”

“You told a straighter story’n that when you
war layin’ looney out on the prairie yonder.
Don’t lie now.”

“ I won’t. I know that I've got my death
touch. anyhow, an’ 1’“ make a clean breast of
it. But fu‘st send out fer that Wayne Appleton,
as ye call him. HE 3 BLACK JOHN!"

A yell of rule followed this communication.
They believed Goodheart was maliciously lying.
He added solemnly.

“As sure as thar is a God in heaven, it’s the
truth. He is our chief. He w’ars a black mask
when on the road. He uses false heels to make
him taller, an’ ads his body out to make him
look bigger. e w’ars a vest of steel links. Bro-
ther Tom and, I belonged to the gun . So does
others that you think your friends, ut I won’t
split on them. I owe hun a grudge, orI wouldn’t
’a’ said so much. Now hang me if you will."

“ Tell us whar the gals was taken to, an' we'll
let you go yet. ”

“ I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me what he
was n to. Ef I’d knowed he was aimin' at
limit, 'd defied him, ‘though he killed me for’t,”
was the quiet reply. .

“Give us the names of all 0' the gang. It’s
all that kin save you."

“ Not of you was to kill me twicet over. I
must go under soon anyhow—I kin feel it in my
19 ," was the firm reply.

IJurly earnestly consulted with the Vigilantas,
and pleaded for the man’s life, since it was lain
that death must soon claim its victim any ow.
But there was only this concemion.

“ Ike Goodheart, here‘s a pistol; which do you
choose—that or the rope?” I

He eagerly clutched the weapon griml smil-
ing, and raised it to his tern les. Mutter ng the
name of his brother, be fire . V

A faint quiver, then all was still. He was

 

CHAPTER Vii.
swoon or nu: BOAD‘AGINTS.

In: Goonnus'r had 3 oken the truth in saying
that the man known to t e settlers as Wayne Ap lo-
tou was in reality none other than the note ons
Black John, the Road-Agent. And now, one or two
oLhIsr points may be cleared up.

Black John had attacked the stagecoach, for the
sole purpose of killing Curly Tostivan, because the
latter had shot Monte Pete, two years or more be-
fore. Monte Pete and Black John were brothers,
and the bond of love was strong between them.
Fora year Black John hunted far and near for the
slayer of his brother, but unsuccessfully. He lost
the trail at Leavenworth and while searching for
it, in the character and rose of a entleman, met
May Howard at the house of a mere ant whose ac‘

uaintance he had formed. The result was that be
all deeply in iove, and, for the time forgetting his
vow of vengeance, paid devoted attention to the fair

Black John. the Road-Agent.

 

 

young schoolgirl. Handsome, of good address and
suave manners, appearing the wealthy gentleman
of leisure, a line conversationalist, it is not to be

wondered at that he made a deep im ression upon the ,
young, unsophisticated country gir who had seen so ,

little of society, and when he avowed his love, May
confessed that it was reci rocated. Yet she had
suiflcient siren h of min to resist his el nence
when he ur er to elope from school with im.

“ First the consent of my parents " she said,
“and I Will no longer den you. But I

et deceived them, nor ' I do so now, though you
now that I love you dearly.“

And to this resolve she firmly held, despite his
specious leadings. Still hoping to conquer her, he
continu the siege. knowiiiieg
Thomas Howard would not y d up his almost idol-
ized child without closely inquiring into the charac~
ter of the applicant, and he knew that his [inst life
would not bear the scrutiny, cautious as e had
Been to conceal his connection with the Kansas out-

“Is.

In a fit of rage and mortiflcation after one of these
failures with May, he fell in with some of his old
associates. and after drinking freely, joined them in
a burglary. Reckless from drln , they were (“5‘
covered, and after a to h light with the police.
were captured. The proo was so strong that Black
John—or Ap leton as he then called himself—could
only put in he lea that he was drunk, which did
not prevent his in sentenced to ten years‘ im-
prisonment at hard her. After seven months of
this life he managed to escape by killing his guard,
and fled to Texas. There he found no difficulty in
getting together a number of desperate characters,
suitable for his work; and learning that Curly Tasti-
van had lately been seen near Monte Pete's last

humping-ground, he returned to Kansas to make L

good his oath: assuming the disguise ofahideous
negro Through a creature of his own, he learned
that Curly was booked for the stage to Barrett’s,
and that May Howard and Eunice Leewould re‘
turn home by the same conveyance. Resolvingw
pay his debt of ve eance, Black John stoppled the
coach, in disguise, w th the result stated in t e first
part of this story. The reader can now under-
:{aland why he cautioned his men against injuring

e es.

It wasa bold move on his part to enter Barrett’s at
walyne Appleton, when he knew that the country
ha been flooded with descriptions at that rson.
offering heav rewards for his capture, and er
alive. But t e sacrifice of his heavy heard and
mustache had changed him greatly, and be resolved
to chance discovery. He still entertained a faint
hope of winning'May to choose him in preference to
her arents. by represent himselfastheinnocent
vict in of circumstances, t ough he had laid his
plans for sterner measures. But this he wished to
avoid if fioaaible, knowing that such an outrage
would ma e the country too hot for him.

He failed in his attem t, for May Howard had
learned to know him in h s true character. Unfor-
tunately she hesitated to denounce him, thou h had
she known he was Black John, she wo have
done so;

It was one of Apaigton‘s men who assumed the
disguise of the no Road-Agent, and delivered
Black J ohn's defiance at the tavern door. And Ap-
pleton cunnineg worked for the settlers to accept
t. Fortune favored him greatly in his being chase}!
leader of the Vigilantes a"Egon the road he con-

trived to give Ike Goodh the signal and that
worthy took the first 0 portun‘it o desert and
return to Barrett's with h plausih e le.

Shortly after the second party lef , half of the
outlaws. underrLimber Dick, entered the v ,
finding no one to dispute their will, dashed upto 9
Howard lace and effected “entrance before a
door coul he closed. May and Eunice were seized
and bound, Limber Dick exceeding his orders, for
he, too, had a taste for a bright eye and a rosy lipt

V0 never ‘

that keen‘sighted '

    

 

  

 

 

.._.....4_nn—a nun-la. 5:21:13?

     

 

 

“Fur-l Wcmaofifl-fl

 

 

Black John, the Road-Agent.

21

 

and resolved that Eunice Lee should be the reward
of his exertions. Leavin old Mr. Howard lying
dead Lyon the floor. a bul at through his brain, an
Mm. oward in convulsions, the outlaws rode
swiftl .awafli
ng ttle Timber creek. they entered its
bed, separating. one-half riding up its gravelly bed.
the other down. At intervals 3 sing e horseman
would ride out from the creek, striking over the
Prairie, leaving as faint a trail as possible, by mufl‘l‘
ng the animals‘ hoofs. And so, one b one, long after
ni htfall1 they rode into their retreati

his was a peculiar spot and well worthy a brief
descrl tion, even did not t e events yet to be nar-
rated emand it. Nature had made a sun hiding-
place; and the hands of man now improv upon it.

A goodly-sized creek traversed the prairie. At this
point it seemed to have cut its way through a con-
siderable-sized ridge or swell, formed by a basin-
like depression in the round, the sides of which
were almost per endicu ar some forty or fifty feet
in hight, of a an yellowish clay, mixed with gravel
and sandstone. This basin was nearly round, sixty

ards in diameter. Stunted trees and bushes. inter-

aced with vines and climbing lants, covered the
bottom and sides. Standing in t eir midst, a horse—
man would be invisible from the prairie above.
Shallow both above and below. the creek had eaten
adeep hole in the basin, so that. as its bed offered
the only chance of entering. to gain the retreat, one
was forced to swim. Such was the outward view of
the basin.

Entering the creek some distance above, the out-
laws rode down its bed, the swift current speedin
obliterating what faint traces of their e the
gavelly bottom received. Their animal;1 we used

the water, unhesitatingly lunged into the deep,

dark 1 scrambling up t e cunningl contrived
stone fiding. that so closely resembled {he work of

nature that even a minute examination in ht well
fail to detect the cheat. One after ano her the
horsemen disappeared amidst the undergrowth.
Dismounting then, they advanced to the face of the
bank. A mass of vines were lifted revealing a dark
opening in the ground. Into this the horses unhesi-
tatingly glided. It was a spacious excavation, used
as a stable. U n the ogaposite side of the creek was
another, some ng sim r. used by the outlaws as
a lodging-house. whenever they desired or were
obi to lie at.

In this p on the two maidens were carried.
Naturally. they were greatly terrified though, with
the exception of being bound, they had been respect-
fully treated b the outlaws. They were deposited
upon a soft ie of sweetsmelling prairie hay. and
then a dim l ht shone around them as a rude lamp
was ignited. -

There was little to be seen. They were in a small
chamber or alcove, connected by a low
with the main excavation. The place was cool, and
seemineg well ventilated, though by some means
not viabe to them. The wals were hung with
numerous garments. evidently disguises as well as
ordina wear. And among them was a large assort-
wea ns- rifles, pistols. knives, and Indian
ut a that moment. neither of our

" ds heeded them.

Now, ladies." cried Limber Dick, a slight-built.
lithe, wiry, notunhnndsome villain. “ this is destined
to be {our home for a few da s—until the heat of

t and search is over. en. I trust you will

8"0 more agreeable uarters. You are to be kept
ere, close guarded, w ile we throw our people of!
m: 9°01“. b a false trail. You shall respectfully
Med .an shall have every wish gratified-save
one. our liberty will come in due time. but not
lustsget. As a solace during the wea 'hours you
mu have before that da comes, I 1e you into a
little secret You. Miss B eyes, are to me
gm (Lucian of our band—~the bride of our noble chief,
be]? John—or Wayne As) eton, as ou know him

t. For you, pre ty Go cit-loch, (ate has a little

less exalted station—you will have to he resigned as
the bride of Limber Dick—lieutenant of the hand,
our ver humble servant,“ and the outlaw bowed
ow, wit mock humility, a laughing devil in his
jetty eyes that caused a shudder to creep over the
maidens, or, even in that moment of terror, they
read this man alight—knew him for a cruel, crafty
relentless foe, to implore mercy from whom wo d
be an idle waste of breath.

After amusing himself with a sight of their fear,
Limber Dick turned and left the alcove. A faint
signal came to his ear, and he knew that the out-
law lookouts had espied the approach of some per-
son or persons. He knew the long ere this hour,
the discove of the kidnapping must have been
made, and t a! search woul immediately made,
was beyond a doubt. in eerctaiion of beholding a
party of the settlers, then, 'mber Dick ran up to
the lookout point.

A single horseman was riding rapidly along the
creek-bed, heading directl for the Refu e. The
next moment he recognize his chief, Black ohn, or
W%KIIG Appleton. I

e out aw chief could not force his animal to
enter the dark £001 of water. and Limber Dick
adroitl passed i rough the entrance, and standing
beside lack John, the latter, in a hard, stern voice,
uttered:

" You have overdone the matter. Why did you
kill that old fool? Surely ly;ou could have managed
without that. And then t 8 other girl—did I tell
you to mr her off, too?" .

“ You’re 0 hard, Captain John," replied Limber
Dick. in a uiet tone, but with his eyes glitterigfi
angrily at t ecensuring words. “That old manh
the strength of a devil. He knocked down two‘ of
the boys with a chair. and made at me when I
dro pod him; and you would have done the same.
b you been in my place. As for the ellow-haired
irl—surely you won d not complain i a man helps
himself while doing your work, as long as that is not
neglected. Perhaps mean to retire from this life.
as well as you do.’

” Well, well—dot it pass,“ hastily muttered Black
John, as he must he called henceforth, who well
knew that were the outlaw gang to once suspect
that he meanttodesert them before many more
da 3, aterrlble storm would be the consequence.
“ t that is the case I have no objection. Only on
must deal with her honorably. Dick. since she s a
connection of m wife, that is to be."

“I'll follow e exam le on set me, Captain
John," and Limber Dick aug ed significantly.

"See that on do. But now to business. for I must
be back to rrett’s before daydawn. The fools
think me fast aslee . after our run of yesterday,
from the Twin Moun s. I am'running a risk coming
here at all."

“ The boys won’t like {our going back there, Cap-
tain John.“ slowly said imber Dick. '

“And why not?"

“ Out of pure cussedness, I ness. You must know
that some of them are alrea y discontented. They
seem to think you are taking it too easyfthat ou
make them do all the dirty work.“ and Dick sto e a
covert glance at Black John‘s face. _ '

“. Limber Dick,” the outlaw chief said quietly, but
with dee meaning in his tone “you're a smart
man, an no doubt can find out e one who is try—
ing to sow dissension in the band. Go to him and
tell him that he is playing with fire ma powder
magazine, that, sooner or later, will explode and
send him higher‘n a kite. There can be but one leader
of this band, and I am that roan. Just hint to him
what willbe the consequence of his crossing my
path. You understand me, so I think you will have
no difficulty in making him comprehend.“

“I’ll see what I can do, )aptain John,“ sullenly.

“All right. Now listen. and see that m instruc~
tions are carried out. You will leave t ree men
here besides Little Billy, Ed. Ware, Nipper Dan and

 

Dutch Bill. Tell them from me that it anything

 

    

happens to the ladies, they shall answer for it with
their lives. You will take the rest of the ho sand
all the animals. and strike for the ravine ytho
Twin Mounds. There you will join the boys that
run of! the horses of. the Vigilantes esterday. Fol-
low the old Pottawatoniie trail until you strike the
Little Arkansas, then ride south to Crockford’s.
Dispose of all the horses there; he will give you
fresh mounts. Then come back as far as the grow
by Lance Poullen‘s where I will meet on. There‘ll
be no danger of the Vigilantes catc ing up with
you, and the false trail will throw them completely
off the right scent."

“ And you?“

“I am the only one of the hand that can go among
them unsuspected-~ and they think that I am one of
their best I rieuds. I will see that they do not smell
out this hole, and throw them of! the scent if they

rcss you too close. But goatiiere is no time to be
ost, for a dozen or more of the settlers are out on
the search now. If any of them sees you leave this,
our game is up," impatiently cried Black John.

Though far from being satisfied, siis tiiir that
he was allowin Black John to outwit iin, L mher
Dick dared no. refuse or delay obedience to the
chief‘s commands. And as the outlaw rode rapidly
away, the lieutenant hastily gave his orders to
lhem. To those who were to be left in charge of
the captives, Dick was particularly careful in giving
his instructions, adding his threats to those of Black
John, in case they proved faithless. And then,
plunging their horses into the water, the outlaws
rode out of the Retreat. and far down the gravelly
bed of the creek, following: the same precautions
they had in entering, emerging one at a time, then
gradually coming together again upon the prairie.

As the reader has seen, a part of Black John's

d ins misc' ried, through the capture of Ike Good-
io‘art. Feel iig sure that the Fr soner would con-
fess, or atleisthetra him. if on yto satisfy agrndge
of long standing. B ack John fled for dear life.
Fearing lest he should draw sus icion upon the
Retreat by pausing there, he e straight on to
join his band, who were laying down the false trail.

Da after slay rolled on, draggingl slowly and
pain ullv to the captive maidens. and ope died out
in their hearts. It seemed as though they were de-
serted b all earthly friends. A litt 9 boy. or rather
dwarf man, brought them their rude meals
regularly. but the were never suifrred to leave the
alcove without a least one of the three men as
guard. And more was a brutal, licentious glow in
their beastly eyes whenever they were near the
maidens, that both May and Eunice decided to
remain close prisoners rather than endure such
trials. Still, more than once, they saw the outlaws
conversing eagerly. laying1 them at the some time in
a manner that chilled t eir very hearts. Then it
was that they first bothou ht hemsclves of the
weapons hanging upon the a cove walls.

CHAPTER VIII.
sniwmno iron. THE iosr.

TIME rolled on and day succoodod day without
hringin the bereaved parents any hope, and the
Vigilan s seemed as far off as ever from capturing
Black John. Still, they had one slight consolation;
the outlaw hand no longer made the neighborhood
rlan erous, no longer took their pick from out the
her 3 of cattle and droves of horses. They seemed
to have left the country for good.

Black John‘s ruse had been perfectly successful.
The Vigilaan struck his trail and followed it to the
bank of Little Arkansas. Here it was utterly lost.
For miles and miles the shores were searched, but
without success. Then, baffled and disgusted, the
Vi ilantes returned home.

’Fheir crops urgently demanded their attention.
To his more time would be ruinous. And so,
though reluctantly. with a sigh for the sad fate
that seemed ineVitably the maidens‘. the settlers

Black John, the Road-Agent.

 

once more fell into their regular routine, with a few'

exceptions.

Thomas Howard did not die, and rallied slowly,
almost im rce tibly. Doubtless his intense anx-
iety retar ed his recovery. Hour after hour he
would bemoan his sad fate, cursing himself. even
his God, that he was forced to lie so helpless where
determined action was needed. It was, indeed,
hard, and there were those among the settlers who

gave it as their 0 inion that Howard would not live ,

to see the niont out, unless some tidings of his
children were gained.

The wife still lay upon what promised tobohcr
deathbed. Since that dreadfull day. when she 
held her children torn forcibly from her side, and
saw her father lying at herrfeet. quivering in the
agonies of (lamb, she had not spoken a word. She
lafy in an apathetic stu or. motionless, seemin ly
li eless, only for the wil rolling of her eyes, tgat
never ceased save when under the influence of an
opiate. Truly this household was sorely stricken.

There were two i-sons who refused to give up
the search; Curly ostivan and Kent Morgan, and
to these might be added Frank Kershmv, though his
servn'es amounted to very little. Still it was well
meant. and the two former were gradually learning
to like Frank. despite, his talent for boasting and
evident lack of courage. ‘

“ Let ’Pm say what they will Kent,“ Curly would
remark, quietly. "I ain‘t satisfied that them sis is
quite out o' reach yit. I‘ll tell ye why. You now
we marked the critter‘s hoofs that Black John rid
away on, the day Ike Goodheart chose the pistol.
We follered it, ontil it struck the trail 0' the rest 0'
the imps, nigh the Twin Mounds. We saw whar-
they had been confined, waitin’ for him, most likely.
But we didn‘t find no sign 0‘ the gals havin' been
thar. You know how we follered them up.»hot-foot,
an‘ they couldn‘t ‘a’ had much the start of us. Is'it
likely that the gals. fresh from school, could have
stood such a ride as that without givin‘ out? An’ of
they lied give out, we'd hev seen some signs to tell
of it. Then look back a bit. You know how the
varinints tried to break the trail in Little Timber.
You know that I took and follered the dif’i-unt
trails, an‘ each one led into Big Stony. There I
found whai- they left it ag‘in, an’ made for the
Mounds. Ef the varmints intended to jum the
country. why did they take all this trouble on lose
so much time? Why didn’t they strike out at fu‘st,
when they would be sure of a start sech asthey
wouldn't need to hurry themselves? I'll ‘give you
mi/idee. Only a rt 0‘ the gang left. Tother is
still somfer‘ not nr off. lyln’ shady in their hidin‘-
place. An‘ when we find that place, we'll find the
gals. Thar—that’s my nosein‘ o the matter.

“It maybe true—but i doubt it. Curly. I fear
they are lost beyond recovery. This is not the sort
of country where a number of people can easily find
a covert to bathe such a search as ours has been.”

“You heard what Ike Goodheart said afore he
used the pistol—that thar was men Mlonzin’ to the
hand that we all thought our 0d frl’nds. We
don‘t know who they be, an‘ yit t ey may be hidin‘
these gals an‘ them as is in charge of em, like ’3
not in thar houses under our very noses. ButI
think I‘ve got a c ew. We’ll follcr it up. an’ see
whar it'll eend, anyhow. That's what we're ridin’
for. now.“

The friends were riding leisurely over the airie.
Morgan asked Curly to explain his words, wh ch the
latter did. In those days, many, indeed nearly all
of the better class of settlers in Kansas. possossed
slaves. One of these owners was Seth Cockton, an
emim-e from Kentucky. He owned a mulatto, named
Yellow Ben. This Ben was in love with Abram
Leigh‘s girl, Wichita Nance, the colored belle of
that section.

In a recent visit, Yellow Ben, as the sub ect of
the abduction came up. assumed a knowing r. so -
ing that thouin the white people thought till r
negroes were tools, he was in possession of a. secret

 

    

 

 

 

 
     
      
       
  
      

'Iy

"if!
5 

‘ " Sigw-glws-v'n-qa '1 Jar—3‘33

‘__..a_‘

K

  

.3

Black John,- uie Road-Agent. ' r y 23

 

' worth the host farm in the terribly; that one word

could hang a dozen white men and to insure
‘hls lame, Cocktou had promised to Nance and
r to Yellow Ben for a wife. , his Wichita
once repeated to Dandy Pete.th of Howard‘s
slaves whom she also had lymstring. and rather
Referred to Ben. Dandy ete. in turn. told Curly
0! this sphoech, and. catching at a straw, after hav-
ing scare ed unsuccessfully for so long Tostlvah
marked to follow up the clew. though he knew that
it might be nothing more than the idle boast of one
 desired to gain importance in the eyes of his
ea.
Fortune seemed to favor the trail-hunters, for as
“my lode to the settler‘s building, the saw Yol-
low Ron 5. n3 down to the spring, a bun red yards
from the house, beside a liiclily-timbered creek.
Curly rode direct to the lot. and called Yellow
. Unsuspecting, the mu atto obeyed.

k here. Ben " quoth Curly thrustin I for-
word a. revolver until its black muzv. 9 almost uch
.. at! the mulatto‘s face. “ Did you ever see anything
like this before?“

‘fDon‘t. Mars‘ Curly~it mought go off !“ skimmer
«like terrified slave.

‘ An’ so it will, of you try to run. or tell me a lie.
Lt‘t Ehut speak once, an’ you‘re a gone ni erl ‘D
5.5V to swoop yo up 'th a broom, sure!” chuc led the

 
 

 
   
  
  
 
    
    
   
  
  
 
   
   
  
   
 
   
      
     
    

'0

er .-
Whoa! "I ‘won‘t lio—Jdced I’ll say any thin’ you
39312113.; to, Mars‘ Curly.“ ' .

. that won‘t (lo. I want you to tell the truth,
on. hin‘ else. Mind, I know a good deal 0’ the
rustic: windy, an‘ ‘ll be sure to ketch you of you
try to lg}. An‘ then you‘re a dead nigger, as I said

. I‘You’li frighten him so bad that he won't be able
; 31390.1(, Tostivan," inter-[mood Kent Morgun.-soeing
33%, the negro quailcd and trembled before the
101111 Eevolver. fl] ’
‘ o more- an sheer him, onless he talks
who Now, Ben, I know you. and you know me,
I on. You on lit to know whether,- I‘m ‘cuslom-
ed to lie or not. I on‘t want to hunt you very much.
but I‘ll do itunless you make a clean breast of it.
w tell me: what is this secret you have found out.
mead  master afeard 0' you?" he addod.
an n .
’ “‘ ’t gnow suy—‘doed I don‘t, Mars’ Curly."
fang Bent turning a shade ler. ‘
 ‘f y then; boy. Smell 0’ his rsuader~don‘t
Rumor the bullet s—begizin' me to et it out at ye?
‘ ft we hear it sayin‘ that who tryin’ to lie to
i me? ‘1?! you don‘t know not ilii‘, then what is old
C ‘ to buy Wichita. Nance an‘ we her to
 g a wife, fer? He’s got more n ggers now
’ v  ‘s got honest work for ’em to do."
" “ . iohita Nance done tole you what I tolc her?“

    

  
     
   
    
      

 

   

l.

 
  

    

"4 V the mulutto, his eyes glittering snakily.
{‘Never you mind whether she did or not: that

1; ~

      
    
    
   
    
   
 
       
 
 
 
     
  
     

‘s the reason? No fool-

d lit out. not-footed."

.nfl‘lfifi' a lie. den. 1 don‘t know numn',“ iiullonly.
Hold critter. Kent.“ cried Curly, as he leap

'  from t saddle and grasped the slave by the

V'B'fli was no‘ infant, and he stnifirlcd des-

.. cryln’ aloud for help: but Cur , though

‘ . n .ml'eg'fiered bashful; upon the pmlfi.

W, ‘lt‘re‘ngts s .ntwen secos
Jua- tl‘z‘s mulsho he! less on the

o man‘s co ,Curly,"gwmhigly cried

' I‘ll ts. " kelnhls wheel of he cuts
{A  you more I'llllatten s
‘ tint, > ball head o‘ytmm. Ifuin’t through
. this outrage mesn~wlnt are on
y, ‘mgrlly dam-udsd 

 

 

swiftly raising his weapon. “ Don‘t go ofl at hall'-
cock. Keep yer we‘pon down or 1’]! make a [m ner-
box 0‘ you. sure. Kent. you look to the n get
while I talk to the old man.“ ' -

“ What has he done?" asked Cookton more calmly.
" What business can you have with him? Have you
turned nigger-stealer!“ ’ '

“ No, nor gal-stealer. nuther. But you ax my
business. Mebbe you know that the settlers th
‘lected me chief of the Vigilantes. I'm on that busi-
ness now. au‘ i wouldn‘t 'visc you to interfere or we
mought hev a. word to say to u. big and mighty
as you might think yourself. c fact is Jest this:
Your boy. Yellow Ben, known a secret that we'want
to find out. Ef he won‘t tell peaceab then we
mean to whip him outil he does tell. ow ye hev

“You have no right to misuse my property. I
will not stand itl" angrily cried Cockton.

“ Hinder us of you kin.- old cock Kent. you jist
keep an eye on the cuss, an' of he shows mischief.
down him. I begin to think We’re gittin' pretty
close at the truth now.” ‘

Morgan quietly covered the settler with his revol—
ver, s stern resolve written plain] on every line' of
his features. Seth Cocklon res ‘tliis slight. and
saw Curly seize and bind Yellow Ben hand and foot.
without daring to lift a finger in his defense. Then.
as he cut and coolly trimmed a number of slender
hickory withes, Curly Tostivan questioned the cap-
tiveNinulritm.b 1 f '

" ow. my 0y, est open your ears. 0 you .
You see these saplings. I reckon. but meb you
don‘t know jest what hey‘ro ’tended for. They‘re
to freshen yom- mem’ry with, so that you kin m-
swer the‘questions I ax you. As a fri’nd I {vise you
to not sensible. an’ tell all on know. for of you
don’t you'll think that a the cuttln’E-up you
ever got in your life store was on‘y buckwheat
cakes nn' ’lasses ’longslde the one I’ll give ye."

" He. knows nothing about—~"

“Eliot up. you! Don’t interrupt the court ‘ef ou '

pit-sue Jest let him hoe his own row. _Ef you av
too much to say. the Vigilantys may hev a word to
say to you, “ pointed] said (‘uriy; then. turning to
the inulatto: “You Id Wichita Nance that you
know a secret wu’th t best farm lathe nanny—-
that. .one word from you could hang halfsdozen
white mm~that Cockton hero ms afeard of you,
an‘ was a-zoln' to buy herto give you tor unite.
Now whatdldyon'meuubythm ck?" > '

I. “ all the truth. Yellow Ben; hut’if you dare’to
K‘A"

“Old man. oud u . Kent, of he speaks 1: ‘ln v
golrenrio. 50w 8‘

‘tliout boin? s n him. Now, P"
l “ 1 Wins jest a~lyin’ to Nance." he imit .
Y- ’ ‘ r . ,

“ You've lied to either her or me. anyway; so here

085!" \. '

The lithe hickory rod whistled through the air,
and descended with outtln force fairly across the
mulatto’s buttocks. Swift y succeeding each other.
the strokes fell. and. writhing uron the ground in
vain efforts to burst his bonds asunder. Yellow Ben
roared lily; zin engage; buffalo-bill“. Twciice dig 
pause in i s wor an repent t 0 lies on, u
slave refused to oontenug'or rnthcr oclal‘ed that-ho
had been inc-rely boasting to the girl in order to en-
hnnoa his value in her eyes; .

“You're lyin’ get. I know. for Abram Leigh told
me old Cockto'n ed bin tryin’to buy Nance. But I
recktm I kin stand it as long as you
lashes were continued. - I I

Durl this scene Seth 000% had chsfed anng
1y, but he steady hand’ol Kent“ him corms!
with a revolvebmunls. and be
but the ermine ‘ st of
no longer on me o stinging 91in

’sndoried‘m: ' ' w i 

" :3} tggkgut Inna mmnn‘d  r

o. v I'n’t—looko clonal . ‘13:?
W ls

“MWW'HW{W'°” ' "'5 éfikfigl 7.

 

sullen- V

kln,"snd tho

 

  
     

Black John. the Road-Agent.

 
   

 

revolver and tired at Morgan. The oung man, taken
partly by suigmse sprung forward: then fell heavily
to the un . with a shrill screech, Curly leaped
forw and closed with the would-be murderer. As
they fell to the round. the pistol exploded, but with-
out doing any amage.

Morgan sprung to his feet, and rushed forward
to where the antagonists had rolled, but Curly cried
out:

“ Keep off. Kent—I kin manidge the varmintl"

Nor was this any idle boast.

ained the upper hand, and soon choked the settler
into acquiescence. I

“Gi' me the traiLrope. Kent." he panted, still
kneeling upon the settler. “ We'll put the imp out
o‘ the way 0' doin‘ more mischief. But you ain’t
hurt?" he added. uickly.

"A scratch on he neck; nothing more. I saw
him in time to dodge. But it's strange no one
comes from the house. They must have heard the

uss."
, “Reckon the 're'all out herdin' or at work on the
farm. He sin t got no white women. Thar —he’ll
do now.“ and Tostivan rose from the body of his
foe. who was bound and gagged. beyond the possi-
bilit of escape, u .

“ on‘t wh p me an mo”, Mars” Curly, an‘ I’ll tell
alilknow," ended ellow Ben

" Go ah . then; but be quick, an‘ no Iyin' or—"

The mulatto then stated that he had long nown
his master was connected with the horse-thieves and
outlaws—indeed. he had left Kentucky because sus-
picion was aroused. justly. that he was one of- a
regularlly-or aniaed gang. Two days before this
one. Ye ow n saw a man, whom he recognized as
one Dutch Bill, in close conversation with Cocktnn,
seated in the house. By close creeping, Yellow Ben
mane ed to get beneath the window, where he
could ear the rwords. Dutch Bill was asking for
some whisky, saying that it would be more than
three days before Black John returned. and it was
dry work watching the girls. Cockton asked where
they were. Dutch Bill replied—in the bank. This
was all that Yellow Ben heard. as they started for
the out-door cellar for the liquor. and he feared
hein discovered. a

" ’s a-plenty, too. I think I know right whar to

ut m hands on ‘em; it‘s the only lace nigh here
hat t ey could hide in a bank." cred Curly. exul—

tantly.
“ But ou won't let him loose?" dolefully uttered
Ben. “ arse ‘d kill dis nigger. suah, fo‘ tellin‘ on

him.“

“I want you to kee%watch over him, boy, nntil
dafy: then it‘s like the igilantys ‘ll come for him.
E you’ve told the truth. you’re a made nigger from
this minnit, but, eflyou‘ve bin iyin'. so help me Jeru-
salem hulbugs, I’l skin you alive, an‘ salt you
down for corn beef."

Yellow Ben earnestly protested that he had told
nothi but the truth. and the two Vigilantes be-
lieved im. Cockton was stowed away in an old
“ dug-out;" a hole in the bank roofed over, and Ben
put upon watch.

Then the two trail-hunters rode away in the gath-
ering darkness.

__.—

CHAPTERIX.
- Li'r'rnn nxtnv.

MAY and Eunice saw with sickening hearts the
black peril that threatened them, drawing1 closer
and closer every day. every hour. At first t ey had
scarce! comprehended its magnitude, but the day
came t at opened their eyes.

True they had noticed that the outlaws left in
guard of them constantly eyed them with strangely
- intent looks, but at length the burning. brutal ex-
Brlession could no longer be disguised. and one day

tch Bill threw of! t ethin disguise

110 had been drinking freely. The 'other two out-

Tostivan speedily.

 

laws were asleep, half-stupefled with the fiery corn.
juice. Dutch Bill. a gaunt, bony-framed man, bold
and reckless at all times, but doubly so when in his
cups, staggered into the alcove where the maidens
were crouching upon their couch of prainevgra§
terrified by the words and hints that had reach

their ears from the men drinking in the main chain.

er. .

With his feet widely separated to aiu a steadier
base. Dutch Bill leered at the gir s, h c—coughlng. as
he attempted to speak. He spoke in his native
tongue, and this so disguised by iquor, that neither
of them could make out his words; but there could
be no mistaking his meaning. .

How the matter would have ended it is dimcult to
say, had there not come interference at this mm
ment. A dark ii are bounded past the uneasily
swaying;r form of t e drunken brute. and stood be-
tween him and the women. It was Little Billy.

By this name alone the maidens knew him; it was
what the outlaws called him, what he called himself,
and very like] this was the only name he had ever

ossessed. or Little Billy was a stray. No one

new from whence he had sprung. He never knew
anything of his arents, and half-believed that he
had never been m of human; far down m_ his
wild untutored heart was a fantastic belief—Little
Bill believed that his father was some lordlf
bu ale-bull, his mother, one of the wild, gracetu ,
softeyed does that he could never bring. himself to
draw bead upon. Often. crouching behind the sun-
reflecting waters of the Big Stony, Little Billy would
amuse himself blfv tracing the points of resemblance
between himse and these animals. He had the,
great shaggy head, thick short neck and humped
shoulders of the buffalo-bull; the large lustrous,
beautiful eyes. the slender yet symmetrical steel-
sinewed limbs of the wild deer. Perhaps it was
these oin ts that first gave Little Billy the fantastic
idea. ut it was higiitened by the contempt and
ridicule that all men heaped upon him. No one had
a kind or pleasant word or look for him. He was
cursed, kicked and buffeted at every turn. From
childhood he had lived among outlaws and crimi-
nals. And yet. though nearly stifled beneath the
weight of sin and crime, Little Billy still possessed a,
heart capable of fidelity and love, though unsua
Eected by himself. until aroused m the truth by the

ind speech of May and Eunice. Though at first the
maidens had shuddered at the sight of the dwarf,
he did not up r so terrible to t e_m as the others
of their gua s. and smothering their feelings, they
had spoken to him kindly, and thanked him for the
little services he rendered them. And now this
brought forth fruit. .

“Back thar, Dutch Bill i" cried Little Bill , the
black muzzle of a cocked revolver staring the rank-
ard in the face. “You come one step furder, am
I'll sp‘ile you for whisky-drinkin'. You know me—
so 0 bac , while you km.”

0 outlaw spluttered forth a volley of curses and
threats, but the dwarf did not uail. As the man‘s
hand fumbled at his belt. Little Billy quickly added:

“ Draw a. we‘pon, Dutch Bill. an’ you won tlive to
fire it. You‘re actin’ the fool. now, an’ when you
git sober. you'll be sorry for it. Have ou fo ot
what Limber Dick told you the cap'n sad? Ef e
knowed this, he’d kill you like a coyote."

These words made an evident. im ressiOn upon
the drunken outlaw, and after hesitat g a moment, .
he turned and staggered back to the ouier cham-
ber. Little Billy quietly crouched downbeslde the
entrance. with revolver restng upon his lap. He
was not yet satisfied that the danger was past. He
had heard more said that afternoon than ever bo-
tore. The three outlaws, still further brutalized by
constant drinkin , had spoken openly of betraying
the trust repose in them by Black John, of App").
printing the ca tives, by taking such articles and
supplies from _t e general store as the; coveted or
would require, and hen turnin their aces towi‘afig .
the south, where, among the oothills, they co

 

 

 

  

Black John, the Road-Agent.

start in business upon their own hook. All this
they had spoken o withoutlfayihg any heed to
the presence of Little Billy. e was beneath their
notice.

When Dutch Bill returned in his comradesl after
his discomfiture, the once more began drinking
and playing cards. ' he stakes were novel. The
were playing for the captive maidens. Wit)
drunken gravity they played on, cheating and
cheated, disputing about the score of the game. un-
lil. more than once, weapons were drawn and blows

struck, only to end in a general reconciliation and.

hand—clas over another drink,

Little B lly listened and watched closely. He felt
that a cris s was drawing near. And. remember-
ing only the kind words of the captives, he prepared
to meet it as best he might. From the weapons
hanging upon the wall, be selected two small revol-
vers. that were in tolerable order. These he care-
fully loaded and cap ed. Then he placed them in
the hands of May an Eunice.

“Mebbe you won’t need to use ’em, but it’s best
to be on the safe side. Them varinints out yonder
mean mischief. They shain't hurt ye while I kin
kmp ’eni back. but I m on'y a little cuss anyhow,
1111' they muuzht rub me out. Then. if you didn’t
hev these, you‘d be gone-rs, sure. Ef they do try to
tetch ye, don‘t be afraid to shoot. Try an‘ kill em.
Mebbe you‘ll miss, an‘ they'll be mad enough to kill

on, but don’t let that skeer you. lrcckon ou‘d

ebetter off dead than in their hands when hey’s
drunk You understand me?"

“Yes—and thank 'ou for thinking of us. We
will do as you say. '1‘ icy shall not. lay hands on us
alive," quietly. but firmly. replied May Howard,
her courage rising as the black peril stood out more.
fleaflysbe ore them. “But you—they will kill you

or

“Let 'em. Folks must die some time. I ain‘t
skeered at the thought o’dcuth. l'm only Little
Billy. anyhow. What’s the (lef'rence? Nobody
wouldn't miss me. But that—I reckon we'd best
shut up. lliebbe the varmints out yonder ‘ll forgit
all about us if they don‘t hear us talkin‘, for they’re
sp'ilin‘ corm'ulce mighty fast."

“Little Bi ly, come nearer. I wish to speak with
you " softly whispered May.

ith a strange tingling in every fiber of his mis-
sha n form, the dwarf obeyed. He knew right
we] what the maiden meant to say, for more than
once she had )leaded with him in a like manner,
though he h ever refused to grant her prayer. He
said that he could not betra his chief—could not be
false to the trust rcposed u him by Black John,
even for their sakes. But never before had he felt
Lust as he did now. The events of the past few
ours had changed him. He saw that a terrible
danger threatened the captives, a danger that his
single arm could scarcely ope to avert longer.

‘ Little Billy, Eon say that you are our friend.
Prove it now. elp us to escape from this place
and these fearful. men. Help us to return home.
and nothing you can ask of us will be refused. You
will find a welcome home there and warm hearts to
love you for the sake of your truth to us. You live
in sin here. Surely 'ou owe these pen le nothing.
Surely you can no love or respect t em. Then
listen to our tpgfiyer, and aid us now that we need
your help so y. You say that you love us, and
would d e to keep us from harm. Then why do
you assist those men in kee ing us captives? You

now what they have threa ened— ou know what
the are now doing—playing cards decide which
sha l possess Eunice an I. There are three strong,
desperate villains. You can not hope to resist
them, successfully. They will kill you first, and
then—what will become of us?"

“Thur—don‘t cry any more. I‘ll do what i kin.
though it mayn't be much. No—don't thank me.
Wait until I do the work. But you must keep ready.
Don’t slee . Keep your we‘ ons read for use. if
my plan ails. Ef you see t em git t a better 0‘

 

 

‘25

me, you know what to do. Shoot them ef you kin»—
if not, then shoot your own selves. Better that then
what‘ll come with them a—hold 0’ ye.“

At that moment Nip r Jim called Little Billy.
The dwarf prompt] o yed. He had formed a
hasty plan, rude an frail, but he hoped to be able
to carry it out, as the outlaws were pretty well
blinded with drink. He lifted the stone jug tohis
lips, and seemingly drank freely. Then he said:

“ Boys, the corn-juice ls gittin' Bligh? sca'ce.
Let‘s lay seven-up to see who goes to old ‘ockton’s
for a resh lot. What sa 7“

As he had antici ate , an eager assent followed.
The outlaws, who lad fully determined to break
loose from all authority and 1possess the maidens,
still hesitated about acting w ile Little Billy stood
their protector. ’l‘hey feared his fatal accuracy
with his revolver. In this res ct the dwarf had no
equal in the band, while he ad never been able to
master the subtle intricacies of the “ devil’s prayer-
book.” Knowing that they could easily beat him in
that, they quickly assented. it would take fully two
hours to return with the whisky from Cock on's.
During that absence, the captives would be wholly
at their mercy.

In their secret glee, they readil consented to the
condition im ‘ed by the dwa . thou h had their
brains been c ear, they must have re the truth—
that Little Bill was only fighting for time. He pro-
posed that eac 1 man should play a rubber, the loser
of the first to play with the next, and so on until the
matter was decided. By this means he felt that the
needed time would be gained, as the sun was already
low down in the west.

Before beginning the last game, Little Billy made
some excuse and glided into where the captives
were awaiting the result in sickening suspense. He
hastily sketched the plan he had formed, and told
them what they must do. It was a desperate course,
but the on] ' one that remained them. Its only hope
of success ay in the semi-drunkenness of the three
outlaws.

Returning to his game, Little Billy played slow-
ly and cautiously. The first one was against
him. In a well’slmulated fit of anger. he flung
down the cards, u setting the rude lamp that alone
lighted up the c amber. All was darkness the
most intense.

“ Stay still, boys)" cried the dwarf, in a loud
voice. “ I’ll git a light. You‘re too drunk—you'd
23‘s: the whole house up. Stay thar, until I git

c In ,

“ Hellowl who’s that? I felt somebody brush
past me jest then i" suspiciously cried Ni er Jlm.

“It’s on] me, you looney," retorted tle Billy,
in a voice t at trembled in spite of himself. “ Look
out thar— ou‘ll upset me with the lamp, if you don't
take keer. ’ ,

The outlaw subsided and then the faint flicker of
a match revealed the dwarfs features. 01:! for a
moment, however, then it expired. So did t e next
three or four, Dutch Bill drunkenly cursing Billy's
clumsiness. But at length the lamp was ignited,
and,the cards resumed. Playing with unusual skill,
the dwarf won the second game. After atight con-
test, Nipper Jim scored the third and last rubber.
aided by his skill at cheating.

“ You‘re to go. lad," he cried, exultitlifly.

“ All right. 61‘ me the in . You to ers come to
léel me through the water, ' quietly replied Little

il y.

He lunged through the pool, goin u the creek.
as this: was the nearest route to ocEton’s. The
jug was flung him. and then he struck across the

rairle, the outlaws watching him. A few moments
litter he was lost to view amidst the tall as. And
the outlaws chuckled gleefully as they eit that the
onl obstacle to their scheme was now removed from
the r path.

“ But we must wait a bit, fu'st," said Nipper Jim
the most prudent one of the trio. “It’s like they‘ll

 

 

make a fuss. au‘ Little Billy's got powerful sharp

     

    

. g;

 

 

-

mack John, the Road-Agent,

 

 

Kenn. He'd make us trouble of. he heard it—ho‘s
envy on the shoot."

The dwarf had sunk down in the rairie-gi-nss,
abandoning the jug. and gliding swift y around to
strike the creek below tie basin. lie knew that
there was no time to lose, for with the discovery
would come instant ursuit. ,

The moon shone rightly not a. cloud obscuring
the sky. Little Billy noted this with a curse. A
cloudy night would have insured an esca )e, but
now— His musin s ceased, as a faint rustic oundnd
in the grass bush 9 him. In a low tone, he uttered
thenames of the two maidens. With glad cries,
 rose before him.

ny had taken advantage of Little Billy's up-
setting the light, and had glided from tho alcove.
thruu h the outer chamber. Gaining tho basin,
they id not hi-sltate, but boldly plunged into the
water, buoyed up by their clothes, until the swift
current swgpt them into shallow water. Then they
had awaite the coming of the dwarf, hidden in the
grass.

Feeling sure that tln-lr flight must soon Led'ui-
covered. .Littlo Billy bade the maidens follow him,
and he struck oil over the prairie. crouching low
down in the grass. The course he pursued was one
that led them almost directly awe ' from Barrett‘s,
though the girls did not notice t us at first. He
knew that the outlaws would believe that the f ugh

. tives had made at once for their friends, and would

naturally direct their seamh in that belief. By

making a wide circuit, Billy hoped to elude them.
Scarccly had he explmnod to the girls than the

alarm came to his ears. The escape had beendis-

covered.
. Little Bill led them rapidly over the prairie. He
.knew that he

discovery would serve to sober the
outlaws, and when not under the influence of liquor.
ting were hold cunning meni‘well skilled in the
or t and lore of the prairies. ct them once strike
the trail, and they would follow it to the end.

For over an hour the had pressed on thus. Then
Little Bill paused. wit t a. curse. At only a little dis-
tence ore t em he could faintly disiin iish sev-
eral dim hen om- kc forms. He heliev the out:
laws ntercepted them. '

ln‘ ill faint be of their not noticing him, he
crouch dowu in he grass. before the two maidens,
his revolver cooked and ready for use. In painful
luspvnse. they awaited the result.

A faint rustling in tho stifl' rairie grass: came to
Little Billy’s ears. He raised 5 revolver. Then a
dark face rose into view, and seemed to be peering
u n them. ’

he istol crack-rd. A shrill screrch of death-

ny ollowed, as the face disu poured.

andemonium seem-ad turne loose upon earth.
Wild, horrible yells filled the air. Dusky forms
sprung forward. Little Billy arose. with a revolver
in elt er hand. With every report a fooxnaa fell.
dead or dying. ,

 

CHAPTER X.
sn'rrmo A ‘mmmr.

h was the some hour that Curl Tostlvan and
Kent Morgan rode over the prairie rom Seth Cock-
ton‘s, with the knowledge they had extracted from
the tortured Yellow Ben. Given an idea by the
words of the mulntto, Curly was eager to test it,
and now he was headed direct for the prairie
“ basin "—tbe retreat of the road-agents.

He had noticed this s t more than onCe. and had
scanned it curious! om either side, though he
had never explor it. It had not seemed worth
while getting a wet skinth he knew that the basin
could not be entered wit out swimming.

It may appear str that this pace had not
aroughly sehrc ed since the abduct on of

co-
E‘

been
I m 'nndLEunico. but the road-agents‘ trail u been

 

f wed miles beyond the Kim, nor had they
doublednpon their tracks. are was nothi , to
dim mpioion toward the sink. {lot

I 'he

 

heard the words of Yellow Ben did the thou ht QC)
our to him. Hiding in this panic! The nearyper-
{xrndiculnr sides of the basin—might they not con-
aiu some hole or cave, its entrance [concealed by _

the masses of trailing vines and bushes? And as ,
could remember no other spot half so likely, Curl j _
was riding thither. r . , V '

The comrades were yet considerably more than a
mile distant from their point of destination, when a
peculiar sound caused them to draw rein abrupt] _,
Soaring over the prairie, home to their ears by t is ‘
favoring breeze, came the faint sound of human ;
voices. Some person or persons were yelling or
shouting angrily. .1,

“It comes from mighty nigh the sink, Kent," mut- - 7
tel-oil Curly, his ear bent in listening. "‘ Somethin’a
n

  

 
 
 
 

“ Perhaps our friends have discovered the hiding-
plaue. and are attacking it— come, let's hurry!" I
eagerly cried Morgan. . ‘ '

“ Easy, Kent. You may be right, but ‘tnin'tlike-
ly. Ef you air, we'll be in plenty time; of not, then
'uvon’t do to run the rash 0' spilinj our chance be-
fore we begin. (.3001 an' eusy‘s the word now," said
(anng as he sprung to, the ground.

" ‘lmt‘s that for? Going to camp out here forte»,
night?“ testin asked Morgan. i

“ Sca‘cely. (lit down un’ hitch your critter. 3}
'l‘har‘s plenty feedin’ to keep “em quiet until we're r5 ’
rend fol-’om." _‘-"

“ not under the sun are you up to.(.9urly? Is‘
this our famous inn?" fumed Morgan. .

“ art of it. ou‘rc too durnod curious, Kent, .
Don’t you know me well enough to follow my lead I '
blind for awhile? ’l.ight an‘ tic; I‘ll tell you what r ‘ 
I mean.“ . r ‘

Kent Morgan obeyed, and while unwinding'th'
long trail-ropes, and lhrmting the picket-fling
li llty into the earth, ’l‘osiivan uondesbcnded to ex;
11 am.

“ It‘s one of two things; either the gals is hidden»
in this basin or sink, or else they ain‘t. Ef the 037*.
then they're close watched, in co'se. Is it. rely" ‘
then, that we could ride right u to it. 'thout beln.
seen? Sca‘cely. E! the ain‘t t tar, then we’re nd
wuss off than More, ’cep a. lettlo crcepiarl that’ll he ‘
good exercise. Now do you see it?" :

“Yes—and you were right " acknowledged Kent. M

“Then foller me in all not I do. ‘t talk-—
save your breath outel it‘s needed more,“'*said
Curly, as he glided away through the stifl,

 

 

 

 

 

   
 
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
  
   
   
 
 
 
 
  
   
   
         
       
      
     
      
 
  
   
 
   

grass. .
In this manner, crouching low down until their
heads alone up nrod above the level coat of green, -
the two frien s lided cautionsl on, not knowing .'
where the outlaw ookouts might posted. Curly
was one of those rare men who never throw away S v
chance in whatever he undertook. Though no
means feeling certain that his surmise was ,
he acted as though he knew that the with"! were ‘1
actually at the basin and upon their gnarl. * V
They had nearl ained the , when a. second.
alarm came to t e r ears. this meoqthi nggome
renter distance than before, and from a ' «out -
irection. A faint re‘port. a series of shrill yelle‘
then more firing, rapi and confused. ‘Withrpuuled
looks ,the two friends eyed each _other. There -
was something going on beyond their ¢0W&‘_
a on. i 3 3 . I
“ Shall we make for the mount". asde Kent. *
" No. Yondor's the sink. . Finish one thing mu“
that's my motto. We‘ll man out now Who!
thnr‘wae in the nigger‘s words.‘ 1) down nhind
me. ’ .
A few moments later Curly crouched downby m
creek, at the int where it entered the basin.
listened intent y. All was still.
deserte . ly for the double alarm
have abandoned the , t at that
felt now that this ape contained the 1
mystery that ind solong bnfled them,
posed to enter. ‘ r ,

 
   
 

 

 
 

  
 
 
      
  
 
 
 

   

     
  

   
    

    

 

Black John, the Road-Agent.

'2}:

 

»“You'll stay here Kent. ml’ listen. E1 you hear
.any rumpus, make for the hosses. an’ don’t sto on-
tel you rout up the Vigilantes. Then lead ‘cm 6,
hot-foot?

. -“And dwert you? Not muchi"

“The alsis worth more’n I am," quietly. "E!
any 0’ t vm‘mints is here, then it's ten to one
the ‘ve got the ole with ‘eln. We're the only ones
thu. suspect th s hidin’-place; then whsr’ thur

‘ cilhlnce be it we both got rubbed out? No, lad, you
must promise me this. ‘

“ You’re right. Curly; I will do what you say. But
il’, you come to harm, there’ll be a. big price for some
one to pay."

“The b g or the better, led just so you charge the
right ones,’ grimly replied durly, as he entered the
water, holding his revolvers above his head.
~ y Silent]; as a muskmt, the scout swam on through
thehlsc pool. for the moonlight did not reach here,

intercepted by the bunks. Beneath an overhnugi
,, hush he paused and listened intently. Not a soun ,
' x. save those of Nature‘s voices, came to s car. The
' basin seemed uninhabited save 1) him. 1!.

‘ The next moment Curl uttcrlx a low-,illvoluutary
,cry. As he cautiously rs sod his head, a dim, twink-
ling point of light met his eye. And then Curly
knew that he had discovered the secret retreat of
the Road-Agents. .
Naturally exalted, he yet proceeded with cautious
coolness. The ilrst motion e msde hid the light
; from his eyes, but he knew what that meant. A
r‘ bunch of leaves had intervened.

.Silently he cre t 1mm the water, and then ud-
.. ' v'uioed Ward L )8 spot where he had seen the dim
‘ light.» The next moment he caught si ht of it again.

: A i lamp set upon the grouu , its uncertain
. light east over a scattered deck of cards, several
rude articles of war and a blanket or two. But
. nothing could be seen or heard of any living bein .
Yet the lamp, the cards. all bore evidence that sue
had ver recently been within the den, and the
robe ' ties were that they were still near. Per-
haps they had caught some sound warning them of
' . an enemy‘s approach, and were lying in ambush.
The than ht was natural. 1
. Tired o walling so uselessly, Curly measured his
distance. and ejected a stream of tobaccovs it so
dextrously that the light. with a sudden sp utter
went' out. Curly knew that if the den was lnde
tenanted, this occurrence would be almost certain
to cause some stir or confusion among them. But
all remained still. Not a sound came 0 his ears.

As he peered into the darkness. he become aware
. that another. lamp was burning within the den;

" tho h hidden from him, he could dlfllngulsh a.
mg, , sheen crossing the gloom like aray of

   
     
  

 
  

    
   

  
  

     
 
       
 

 

      

     
   
  
    
    
   
   

 

 

 

 
  
  

     

 
   
 

 

 

 

moo .

"Il‘lllliE-isk it, anyhow "he muttered, beneath his
breath then, with the red‘ blade of a stout knife
tight clutched between his teeth. he crept forward
u 11 hands and knees, entering the den.
 their discover of the csptives' flight. the
~drunken outlaws thrust the leafy screen hastil
‘asido, omitting to replace it. Ogldy for this fee ,
Curly might never have discover the entrance;
certainly not soon .

. ‘ “expecting to see the glare of a lstol-shot. or
eel been thrust at the deadl kni B with every
v movement, Curly still edvsn toward the faint
ray. Then he saw that it roceeded from a smaller
chamber; the alcove that so recently been the
prison at the abducted maidens.

Onequlck glance showed him that it was unoccu-
pied,me he‘ventured in. He discovered un-
mixeble evidence that the lost ones had lately

age. But where were they mall;

All ' W chilled his heart, heard a
. _ whistle. ram and r Kent
, ‘ssignnl, Feelingthst this dan-
, instantly rats-seed his stepssnd plunging
 the  swam repldlytowhetetheyoungmun

 

  
 

 

  
 
   
  

  
 
 
   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   
 

  

'te

 

“ What is it-whet‘s up?” whls ed Curly.

Morgan did not speak, but re led with a gesture.
Following it, Tostlvsn made ou the lispes of three
men, rapidly advancln down the valley, following
the cree ' bed. Bayou all doubt, they were return-
ing to the Retreat.

‘The gels are gone, but not many hours. These
vnrmint it’s likely, knows what they be, an’ we
must fin out. I‘ll ick of! the fu’st. you ‘tend to the
hinder one. The to (idle one we must take pris'ner,"
hurriedly muttered Curly. .

“ But maybe they're honest men—friends."_

“ Don't be a fool! Histl now," continued Tostiu
van.

The men were talking earnestly as they approach-
ed and spoke quite loudly in order to drown the
sp bin in the shallow. water. As it to settle the
doubts 0 Kent Morgan, these words come to the
listeners‘ ears, Nipper Jim speaking: '

“That job‘s pin ed, then. an‘ the sooner we leave
this. the better. luck John ‘d think We was lyin' \
to him ’bout the sis."

The reply to th s, it any was made, was drowned
by the simultaneous report of two revolvers. and the
bodies of Nipper Jim and Dutch Bill flounder-ed in
the water, dyeing it red with their lite—blood. Ed.
Ware stood alone. seemingly petrified with surprise
and horror.

_Then Curly sprungll'rom his covert, and clutched
the outlaw y he rout, flinging him, unresisllng. g
to the shore. In a moment ere he had recovered
from his stupor, he was bound and gagged.

“ Ketch holt an‘ help ke him up into the taller
grass. lad," hastily utto Curl , with a quick,
searching glance around. “Thurs no tellin‘ how
many more 0' the var-mints th 'muy be ni h, an’
we must pump this teller store 8 has 3 ch nee to
git nwsy.‘ - '

Morgan read lent a band, and the next minute
the scouts and t eir captive had disappeared amidst
the rank grass. No trace was left visible of the re
cent traged , save in the two forms that floated
slowly roun and round in the eddy, gradualléyleld-
mg to the influence of the current that was hear
them out into the prairie, far away from the scene
at; thellil'egeath. Uu oved they had ived, unmourned

e . A a
or some minutes (Early and Morgan crouched
beside the trembling outlaw, their wen ns drawn
and ready for use. ' But no further a arm came,
All was still and quiet over the prairie: a silence
that gradually began to be oppressive to the two
scouts, bold and resolute as they were.

" Now, my men," at length , observed Tostlvsn.
speaking distinctly in the prisoner’s ear. “ you jest
listen a hit to me. I don‘t 3 pose you know who we
air. This man here is s Govor‘ment detective sent
out to l‘arn the rights 0‘ this Black John in ness.
I‘m Curly]. a sort of a. ide to him, un‘ now the
on ’n of l e Barrett‘s Vifintys. So yoh‘kin likely
jest how much too ing we'll stand from you.
it‘ll take a. heap to make us overlook what you have
did: the i'u'st thing for you to do is to answer our
questions. Now tell me. whsr is them gels yw
helped steal away from Barrett‘s?"

As he spoke, Curlyrelessed the gag from the dis
tended jaws. Ed. are gasped for breath, then up

tered: '

"It i tell all. will you let me go free. and not
(bllver me up to them Vigilsntys? They‘d murder
Incl“ '

“"l‘ein‘t your turn to ex uestions. We don’t
make terms with no seech par on. Don't r‘ile me.
You in ht get hurt " im stierrtly muttered Carly,’
as his lm e-polnt pricth t e outlaw's throat.

“They escaped—Little Billy helped ‘em
the slip. not more’n an hour ago. We pistol-
shoodn’ unlityetllllln‘fis guts?“ 12:3 huntin" for d em,
sn‘ e n {a run em own
swhooiln' lied

ive us

ttle Billy by m ks," snllenly rep
are. . ‘
“ Jest store we opened on ye, over flier, we heard

 

 

-.-. ‘4

“run—'23:; ;“ ~ . ,4 '7', 1-,." swr- ~—-—.«... 77:..~_....._... . .v,_.,...... .W»,.. ,.._.. -_. .h n v

23 Black John, the Road-Agent.

on say somethin' about Black J ohn's comin' back.
hen ‘ll he be here? No lyin‘, now."

“We ’lowed he'd be here some time tomorrow,
But it’s all guesswork ‘th him."

“ How many 0' you is around this sllebnng?"

“Ain’t any, now, since Little Billy runn'd off, an'

on killed Dutch Bill an‘ Nipper Jim an' nabbed me.
The boss only left us four with the gals."

“ Morgan, you hear this. I b‘lieve the cuss is tell-
in‘ the truth. Ef so, the boys must know it all More
day comes. We can lay a trap here fer Black J olul,
an‘ b the hull outfit easy. Besides, the gals must
be loo ed u . I don‘t like the rumpus we heard
over thar. is may be that tile varnlints is back
ahead 0‘ thar time, or mebbe a skulkin‘ band 0’ rod-
sklns has picked ’eln 11 J. Anvway, they must be
found. (it) you an‘ fl-tc 1 up the critters. I’ll fix
this varmint read for totin‘. You must take him
to Rurrett‘s. It’s ike we’ll need him fer a witlless.
He's est coward enough to blow on his comrades to
save is or'nery life." ‘

Kent lost no time ill obe in the advice, or rather
orders, and ten minutes in er e was riding rapidly
away over the prairie toward Barrett‘s, leading the
gorse] upon which the craven Ware was securely

oun .

After watching him for a moment, Curiz Tostivan
glided over the hill toward the point w ence had
proceeded the wild night-alarm, feeling sure that he
would gain some clew to the fate of the fugitive
maidens.

Guided by the instinct that long experience gives
the true plainsman, Curiv soon stood upon the spot
where we last saw Little Billy and his charges. Vi lth
a sickening sensation Tostivan bent low over the
blood—stained and trampled grass. He saw that a
tragedy had been enacted here, and be feared the
worst. Then he stumbled over a body buried in the
grass. A sigh of relief parted his lips as he noted
the large shaggy head ld harsh features. He had
feared lest his eyes sh id light upon a fairer face.

Only that one body did he find the mangled corse
of the dwarf, Little Billy. Yet a could see where
others had fallen, by the matted and gory grass, that
still retained the impress of the bodies.

For an hour or more he uartered the prairie, but
the sign was hard to rent b the uncertain moon-
light, and he was but little he wiser when he re-
traced his steps to the basin. And there he waited
and watched until Morgan's return, with a number
of Vigilantes. Others had been sent for. Before
daydawn the entire settlement would be afoot.

And before sunrise the trap was set, and the
searchers at work.

CHAPTER XI.
vuL'rnm: AND covm.

Yes, Little Billy was dead, had died fighting des-
perately in the vain hope' of saving the two maidens
rom falling into the clutches of the prairie coyotes,
the Kickapoos. Undaunted by the score of enemies
who 3 rung up around him as his revolvers ke the
death- nell of the foremost brave, Little Bi faced
them with unflinchin courage, his pistols rapidly
detonating. carryi eath with every bullet. The
Prairie- mas aroun him was crushed fiat by the
ailing orms. Utterin their blood—cunning death-
shrieks. the savages fol quivering, writhing. pluck-
ing and tearing at the stiff grass that was now
dam ned and dyed crimson with their hearts'
blo . And the dwarf stood there, bold, defiant, as
yet unharmed.
But then an irresistible rush was made, and after
a brief, confused strugglg, Little Billy went down be-
fore the weight of num rs. Then the writhin mass
arose. .But Little Billy lay motionless. e was
dead. His bod bled from a hundred wounds. It
was backed a most to pieces. But the scalp was
left untouched. The savages feared to take this;
that would too plainly proc aim the authors of the
tragedy. and they were “ at peace.”

   

May and Eunice had been eye-witnesses of this
tragedy, 3 ll-bound with horror, unable to take ad-
vantage o the terrible confusion to flee, as they
might have done.

Now, as the savages drew back from the quiver-
ing. mangled corpse, that had once been Little
Billy, one braVe, bleeding from a bullet-wound
through his face. discovered them as they crouched
down in the prairie-grass. Uttering a shrill soreech
of malignant rage, he leaped forward, winding one
hand in the flowin tresses, uplifting a blood-drip—
ping knife. its poin threatening Ma ‘5 bosom.

With a faint cry she sunk back, or eyes closing
in expectation of immediate death. The rasp
tightened u on her hair. and she was paliially
lifted to her eat; but the blow did not descend.

A stalwart savage leaped forward, alighting be-
side the wounded brave. and with a single powerful
blow of his clinched fist. sent him reeling away, to
fail at full length on the ground. Then this savage
stood over the two pale-faced maidens, with drawn
knife and hatchet, waving buck the savage braves
that pressed around, their weapons ready; their
faces distorted, their eyes glowing with the thirst
for blood.

“Back!” this man thundered in the tongue of the
Kickapoo. “ These . uaws belong to Bad-Wolf.
The knife that touches hem must first pass through
the heart of your chief."

For a moment it seemed as though this command
would not be heeded. The uplifted weapons quiv-
cred and glanced in the pale, silvery rays of the
moon. The savages cast a rapid glance around
over the ghastly, motionless forms of their dead
comrades, that, in their distorted features and
limbs, seemed calliglg aloud for ven anoe. From
these, back to the t , commanding cm of Shika‘
chetish. as he stood over the crouching, trembling,
half-fainting women, his eyes flashing back their
defiance, his weapons uplifted in readiness for the
collision that seemed impending.

But then the braves seemed to remember their al‘
legiance, and as their weapons slowly sunk, they
drew back, cowed by the undaunted courage of
Shika-chetisb. For the time at least the pale-faced
maidens were safe.

Yet the chief kept close beside them, his e e
watchful, his hand ready. Even better than they e
realized their peril. He knew that the vengeance of
the Kickapoos was only partially; alppeaoed. Four
of their comrades had taken up t 6 011g trail lead-
ingtothe ha py huntlnlg— rounds and there was
only the spiri of one a e— ace to ii ht them along
the way. Why Bad- 0]! had reso ved ugh Era.
rooting the women he could scarce], have ld im-'
self. In the dim moonli ht he ha not recognized
them; nor was it probab e that he would do so, since
he had not met with either of them for over two

ears—snot since they first left Barrett‘s for board.

ngvschool at Leavenworth, and these two years had
wrought a great change in them.

Fearing he result should the settlers discover
that the Kickapoos had committed this deed Shiko-
chetish gave directions for his braves to gather u
their dead and obliterate all traces that could pose}2
bl serve to identify the murderers. The body of
L ttle Billy was carefully hidden in the tall grass,
and hoging that thedew and sun would soon oblitA
crate t e blood-sign, the Kickapoos glided rapidly
away from the spoc. several of their number com.
ing after the main body and hiding the trail as best
they couki.

Had Little Billy been less hasty in his action, this
tra edy would probably never have ha pened. The
Kic apoos were not hunting the fu tlves. That,
afternoon a roving band of Omahas had run of sev-
eral valuable ponies from the Kickapoo herdl, and,
taking their trail, the latter had followed it this far,
when they noticed several forms advanci along
the ridge. Naturally they wished to learn w 0 these
were. As the dark face rose before Litty Billintifig

 

fired instantly, believing it tobelongto one o

 

 

Blacli: John, the Road-Agent.

29

 

outlaws who had discovered them. Thus assaulted,
the Kicks s thought only of revenge. Otherwise
they won] have allowed the fugitives to ass them
by in ca, as they were averse to gain ng the ill-
willo the settlers more than they had alread by
their slightly enigmatical behavior upon the win
Mounds, a week previously.

As they journeyed along, Shika-ohetish grew more
and more uneasy. He could not help but notice the
bitter, revengefu] lances of the braves. more es-

ciall those bea ng their dead comrade, directed

wa the pale-faces, He heard too the deep mut-
terings, the half-audible threats, not alone against
the captives. but toward an who should so far for-
get their creed as to shield t ose whose hands were
red with Kickapoo blood. He heard this and did
not dare rebuke the discontents. Thou h as brave
and daring a man as ever lived, where odin dan-
ger alone was concerned, Shika-chetish had one
fleet fear. The main body of the Kicka shad

on making overtures to the band under is chief-
tainship, to unite once more with them. Should
the do so. Bad-Wolf would be but a sub-chief,
wh enow he was a king. While this matter was
unsettled, he must bow more or less to the will of
his braves, lest they should decide against him and
return to their former tribal allegiance. He felt
almost certain that his braves would demand that
the captives should be delivered up to their ven-
geance. and saw not how he could avoid com lying.
And thus all £0 at the urpose for whic they
started forth; t e Oma a horse-thieves might
exult in their success, for the hour of reckoning was

postponed.

Fortunate] for the captives they were not obliged
to go much urther on foot. Somethree miles from
the spot of their ca ture, a second portion of the
band was 'oined. ese had charge of the horses,
that won] only have been an incumbrance to the
savages while trailing their toesebiy moonlight.

May and Eunice were mount upon horseback,
with a warrior riding close upon either hand, as
though to guard against any attempt at escape.
Fete ingu the rear were several braves in charge
of the dos . Each co so was securely bound u on
its animal, in an n rig t position. with its blan ct
flung over its he h din the staring features and
blood-stains from view. e captives cast only one
glance backward; the strange and unearthly sight
of the dead men riding so st mar along in their rear
filled them with horror and aw d longing to rush for-
ward at headlong speed—anything to escape that
ghastly escort.

The sun had already risen’vvhen the party rode
into the temporary Village of the Kicapoos. And
here again the maidens were compelled to undergo
it trying ordeal. As the dead braves were noticed,
awail of grief and woe went up from the squaws
and pappooses, quickly succeeded b a deadly yell
of vengeance as the pale-faces cang t then atten-
tion. And then a desperate rush was made for the
ca tives. With difficulty the braves forced hack the
in uriated h s, who seemed to pay no attention to
the stinging lows, even wounds, their lords and
masters dealt them, intent only 1.1 n sacrificing the
white squaws to the manes of their dead braves.

Panting trembling, half-fainting May and En-
nice foun themselves at ien thin the skin tent of
Shika—chetish, who still st their shield. But his
brow darkened and grew more troubled as he lis~
tened to the tumult iii the village without, the yell-
ing, wailing and screeching of the sguaws; he knew
that at any moment the voices of hp braves might
join in the chorus, when even his life would be in
danger.

“Save us—for the love of God! save us from
them!” gasped May Howard, sinking at the Kicka-
poo‘s feet, her hands clas ed her voice trembling
with a sickeni dread of t e future.

“You hear at? You hear what brave, squaw,
pappoose all an. ? Shika-chetish.only one man——
you must die!“ ullenly returned the chief, scowl-

 

ing dee ly, as he heard a loud shout come from the
lips of is warriors.

Then he sprung to the lodge-door and peered
eagerly forth. He had understood the meaning of
the shout. A bod of horsemen was rapidly bearing
down upon the vi Iage. For one moment he was in
doubt; then his face lightened and a shrill whistle
broke from his lips. Still obedient, his warriors
flocked to a common center, their weapons in order.
Yet they did not seem to a prehend danger, thou h
thel horsemen continued 0 approach at a stea y
ga op.

From the foremost came a single cry' it was the
yell of Black John, the RoadAAgent. Shika-chetish
promptly replied, and then the Vagabond chief and
the notorious outlaw met and clas ed hands like
tried and warm friends. Yet neit er trusted the
other further than he was absolutely obliged to.

“Well, chief," said Black John, glancing keenly
around, speaking in the Kickapoo tongue, for Shika-
chetish was not very expert in the use of the English
language, its intricacies proving too much for his

ttural tongue; “ how have matters gone since I’ve

cen away?“

“Bad !“ was the impressive reply, “very hadl
The pale-faces are revving stronger and more inso-
lent. They think 1 ese prairies are all their own.
The Kickapoos have not room to breathe in peace.
We are going far away, togalnnd where the game
is more plenty and not so wild.”

“Iseeyou have been in trouble," added Black
John, keenly eying the stark bodies still lying out in
the open air. surrounded by wailing squawx.
“ What does this mean? I thought you were at

race. What does this mean ?”

Bad~Wolf hesitated tor a moment. He was tempt-
ed to tell a lie; to declare that this was the result of
a battle with some of the roving Indian hands. And

*rhaps had be known the entire truth. he would

ave done so. For he did not suspect that the
Road-Agent was in any manner connected with the
pale-faced captives within his tent. But he conclud-
ed to tell the truth, and did so, briefly.

“Where was this? Who were they?" ea erly de-
manded Black John. strongly agitated. " ho was
with the white squaws?"

“ A little boy-man, with a head like a buflalo-bull.
A devil to tight—as you can see. His one arm laid
these braves low, before we could kill him."

"Little Billyl‘ hoarsely cried Black John, as he
turned and made a esture to his men.

“ Chief, you are iiig to deceive me—to throw
dust in my eyes! ' liese squaws are mine—you
stole them away from my men at the hole in the
prairiel“

Sbika-cbetish stared at the outlaw in mute amaze-
ment, as thou li he did not comprehend Black
John s words. at then an angry glitter came into
his e es, and he replied:

“ on say that I ave a forked ton us. That is a

lie. I do not fear to speak the truth 0 either friend
or enem . And since you speak of deceit, where
are the

orses you promised me for helping you at
the Two Brothers? I made my part of he bargain
good; did you? No! rode of! in the night, upon m

horses; and now you come here and say that I lie! ’
“Ca tain, I see the rls peeking at us from yon-
afgod’ée," whispered imber Dick, at Black John‘s

e W.

“Wait—kee the boys ready. We may have to
fight these evils,“ muttered the outlaw; then
turning once more to the chief: “ I was wron , Bad—
Wolf, and I ask our pardon. I was ma , and
didn't know what said. But this ho »man was one
of those I left in charge of my capt ves at the den.
They must have bribed him to hel them soon e,
If that is so, and on killed him, thank you or
it. .He_was. a tr tor; it saves me the trouble of
punishin him. But these white sguaws—let me see
hem. I they are the ones I think, they must go
With me. If not, they are yours."

A sullen muttering ran around the line of Kicka-

 

Black John, the Road-Agent.

 

pom. They were scowling doc , and pre ring
their weapons, as thou h burnlng for a coflllsion.
Black John made a re i gesture. , Like magic each
otthe Road-Agents old a revolver,vcocked and
read in either hand. Between the two rties
atom Shikn-chetish, irresolute. He knew in an-
tagonists. and felt that victor-v, it gained at all,
must be accompanied by frightful loss. Waving
back his braves, he said:

“It may be as you say. I know nothing of that.
I only know that you Yromined me so many horses
fornpiece of work. did it; now where are the
horses?"

“Here—and they are yours, it you will give up the
white squaws. If not, then you must fight for
them," was the bold reply. v

The Kickapoos glanced at each other, and seemed
impressed. t was not every day that they gained
such a rize; and besides, there might be danger
in sacri cing the squnws. The settlers were already
suspicious. ' .

Bad-Wolf read this decision, and like a. good gen—
eral gave in. Btriding to the lodge, be dragged
forth the trembling captives, sayin :

“ Look—euro these your squawsl‘

“Yes!” cried Black John and Limbs-r Dick, in a
breath.

“Then they are yours——whcn you give me the
horses," was the businoss-like reply.

“Come with us to the den, and you can have
them thou. It is a long ways to wnlk," hesitated
Black John.

” No. We are going far away. Give us the horses
now."

"Do it, op," muttered Limhcr Dick. "The
animals won d onlyr leave a trail that might betm
u]: we can easily raise fresh ones from tho so -
t or.

“Save for the love of God! do not give us up
tirthat .vil min I" gasped May, shrinking back in tor-

ror.
“Horses worth hcnp more than squaws." coolly
returned the chief.
Shrinking with terror, the strove to lion but
with one bound, the ltomi- gents secured them.
Half-fainting, they sunk helpless into the stronw,

arms. -
and the Vulture and the Coyote laughed diabolL
on y.

CHAPTER XII.
'rrm 'mAP srnuno.
in the “basin,” though hearts were
beating and eyes flashi with eager anticipation as
the Vigilantes crouch down amidst the under-
growth, their rifles cocked and randy for use the
moment Curly Tostlvan should give the signal.

Half an hour before the Iookouts posted upon tho
ridge brought word that a number oi’ footmon were
approaching the retreat. Curly at once stole out to
remnnoiter, and made out that they were the band
oi’. Black John, and that they had Ma Heward and
Eunice Lee with them as captives. itliout bother»
ing his mind try‘infi to account tor their being dis-

’mounted, Curly as ened back to the mun-trap.

He was now standing beside Ed. Ware, a revolver
ready to remind the outlaw of the duty expected of
him. To save his life, Ware had agreed to deco
the road—agents into the trap. He know the agree -
upon signals, without which being answcrod, Black
John would not venture within.

The signals were made and answered. Black
John uan ectinzly advanced. Between him and
Limber Die walked May and Eunice, .aded and
worn by the long march that had lasted rom morn
until nearly sunset. ( .

As the Road-Agents draw or nor. Curly Tostivan
made Kent Morgan 9. signoL he’young man. fol
lowed. by a halt-'donen sturdy men—and among
them the redonbtoble Frank Kershnwvdropped into
the creek. emerging from the basin on Hit!ngle
side tram that where the outlaws approach .

Au. was still

 

This object was to gain the rear of the Road-
Agents, and thus be enabled to cut ofl’ the retrth of
such among them as survived the first springing of
the trap. This bright afternoon was to see the ut«
ter destruction ot Black John’s notorious band cl! '
deprcdntors.

“ Helloi there—Dutch Bill i" cried out Black John,
pausing at n little distance as though for thefirst

imo suspecting something wrong. '

“ Answer him—au’ mind how ya do ltl" mut-
toé-ed Curly, as his pistol was pressed against Worc‘ll
s e. '
“ Hello, Cap-rxvhnt‘s up?“

“ Is all safe? Where's the rest of the bost How
did on manage to lose these girls!“ -

“ t's u. long story, but we kin cicar'our skirm.
'lihnr‘s big news, too; better come on in," returned
\ larc. .

Black John seemed satisfied and advanced.

“ Lcnvo them two to Leigh an‘ me," muttered
Curly, in a tone barely audible to the Vigilanth
around him. “ When I fire, you plug t’other; ready,
Abram?" ’

A nod replied, and then Curly glanced along the
dark tube 0 death, its silver drop bearing full upon
the narrow strip of white forehead loft bare by the
slouched hat worn by Black John. A resoure of the
finger -.and the death~knell was soon ed.

Without a. groan Black John reeled, tossing his '
arms aloft, then fell heavily forward, a. bind/din
colored a ct between the eyes marking where the
bullet ha entered the brain. . , ‘ ’

And nmld'tho death-hail that hurtlednothickly '
around him, Limber Dick stood unscathed, om!
hand clutching Eunice Lee. , Giant. Abram had
drawn a bead upon“ his heart, but the setticr‘s riilc
missed fire. A

Andthen—with tho shriek: and agonizod groans .
of his fellow-comrades, with the wild. exultant yells
of the Vigilnntcs, both in tho basin and theta under 4
Kent Morgan who now leaped up from the lull grass
in the rent of the Road-Agents; with all thisaronnd
him, Limbor Dick did not lose his promos 01' mind.
guick M thought he flung one arm around Eunice

rowing: her close to his breast, while his right Hand
clutched a long knife, the keen point resting upon
her bosom. ' ~ '2 .

“ lioldl" he cried, his clear voice ringing like I
clarion note, a sneer of dcrisive contempt worn in
the moment of dread peril plug: around his ll .
“ The first move you make will be death of t is
girl. Truo, ou- can shoot me. but you can’t kill me
so instantly ut thatl will have time to drive this
knife home to her ll .." l ' I

“ Don’t ahoot, boys!" cried Curly anxiously
“ What do you want, anyhow? Don't be adorned
lool maul” ,, ' ‘ u ‘

“Thank ou—I think I am mung Very sensibly,
indeed. W tfdotll want! ,3! Bite, 0! chll'fig I’m
no yearning or on “nor a snppose‘ it .
is. Still, if you kill me, you kill her also. Pledge me
your honor that you will give me one hour‘s start,
and I will free her. Thou you , wtchmo-rif you
can," coolly added Limhcr Di ,’ m’ ,

“ Let me talk with the boys first,” said Cur-

! . v .

I" All right—but no treachery 1mm". , v » ' '
That was the last word Limbcr nick eveupoke.
A slender form suddenl arose behind hint. ’ d
clutching his knife-ban , wrenched the mu
back from the maiden‘s breast. At the lathe instant
there was a smothered renort—«p' tiny put! of 

and with a snarling cry, Limbo! Dickie“ doad’to

ground. ~, . .
“ Hurrai Bully for Kernhnwl" yelledCurlyJefli-
inz forward in  . » 2‘ l ‘
It was indeed Fran Komhaw who hand grip m.
k W—
h
it

this bold and admit deed. He had crept _

grass and gained the rear of Li!!! v "
served, nerved to
minent

bet
desperation doubticsi,’  "
11! of Emilee, whole beauty 1123 v1
made a‘ cop impression omnk‘a  '_’_

 

Black John, the Road-Agent.

 

There ‘is little more to he added save what the
reader’s imagination cor. readily supply.
be safe return of their children turned the scale
in favor of Thomas Howard and his wife. Both
were well and hearty at the double wedding that oc-
curred on Christmas Eve of the same year. Maurice
Clyde, the detective, the same who has been known
as Kent Morgan in these pageswwedded May, the
black‘uyed. And Eunice, of the golden locks, took
Frank Kershnw for better or worse, finding him
much batter than might be expected from the part
he has played in these pages. but that one act of
holdmh¥which he rescued his future wife, great-
ly altered irank and he is no longer the gasoonad-
“,infirng art of doubtful courage.
' e
fists. In July. 1873, I visited it, and the description
.in the text is taken from nature; and the leading in-
cidentsln this story are still fresh in the memory of
many of my Kansas friends.

THE END.

«Half-Dime Singer’s Library

1 WnoA. Emmi and 59 other Songs.
‘2 CAPTAIN Corr and 57 other Songs.
8 Tm: Gussnono‘ HAT and 62 other Songs.
4 Jonsnv Mono“ and 60 other Songs.
5 I’LL STRIKE You Wrrn A FEATHER and 62 others.
6 (mono: mi; (humour and 56 other Songs.
7 Tm: BELL! or ROUKAWAY and 52 other Songs.
8 YOUNG FnLLAH, YOU’RE Too Fraser! and 60 others
9 Sim YOUNG Gun. and 65 other Songs.
m PM THE Govnnnon’s ONLY Son and 58 other Songs.
Al MY FAN and 65 enter Songs.
12, COMIN' Trmo’ run RYE and 55 other
12 THE Ronnionmo InrsnuAN and 59 other Songs.
MOLD Doe TRAY and (it? other Songs.
15.an. Camus and 59 other Songs.
‘ ‘16 in msWnnu BY AND Br and 62'othvr Songs.
1‘7 Elmer LEE and 55 other Songs.
181’); m Boy sun’s Bonnn TO Buns and 57 others.
19. THE Two ORPEANH and 59 other Songs.
20 WHAT ARE rm; WlLD WAVES Sumo, Emma!
and 59 other Songs.
21 Ismonm POLLY Woo and 59 other Songs.
22 'l‘mi 0w. ARM-CHAIR and 58 other Songs.
23 ON Cassi: ‘lsinsn Bucn and 58 other Songs.
24 OLD sites; was HOT—CORN MAN and to others.
25 I'll "(LOVE and 56 other Songs.
26. P or m Gnu. has and 56 other Songs.
27 Yo, nun. Hol and 60 other Songs. -
28, "I‘me NEVER no TO Gin IT on So and (30 others.
29 BLUE Bowers Oven THE Bonner: and :31 others.
30 Tin: MERRY LAUGHING MAN and 56 other Songs.
31 SWEET Fons mom-Nor and 55 other Songs.
32 Lsm‘m BABY MINE and 5:5 other Songs.
83 DE BAN-10 All. or: Ins'rnunnnr FOR. Mr. and 53 others.
34 Tarn and 50 other Songs. ‘
' 85 Jim T0 PLEASE 'rnn Born: and 52 other Songs.
8% Summer on Om; ‘IN THEXiUTTER and 52 others.
Ki)me KRANXS and 59 other Songs.
33 Wu, Deanna-nun and 53 other Songs.
39 Tm: Gmn I ananm Mn and 50 other songs
.40 "In: am A I.an FADE!) Fwwm and 50 others
41 anv annnsnnmn and 60 other Songs. ,
42 Billion“; Iii-ms BARN and 63 other Songs.
43 Ha'Mgfi' mamas; courms, and 17 other Songs.

 

Sold everywhere by‘INewsdealem, at live cents
per copy; or sent pod-Md, to any address, on re

court 012m aunts pamumber. ‘ ,

,sslmn inflows; meme.
‘ ‘ “.96 Win-us Strata-.11er

utlaw's Retreat." or prairie sink. still ex-‘

The Best \Veekfy ofPopular, Entertain-
ing and Useful Literature Pub-
lished In America!

Its Unrivaled Corps of Contributors, almost all of
whom write amduaimtg/ for its publishers—embraces
the following authors oi world wide. repute—

Colonel Prentiss Ingrahnm. Albert W. Aiken.
Gag. Fred. Whittaker, Ca t. Mark Wilton. Joseph
E. edger, Jr.. Edward L. healer. Charles Morris:
0]] Coomes, C. Dunning Clark. Buffalo Bill. White
Beaver. Buckskin Sam, Major Dangerfield Burr,
T. C. Harbaugh. Philip  Warne. William R. Eyster,
Anthony P. Morris, Lannce Poyntz.

Beach and all of whom give to BEADLE'S WEEKLY
their very best productions in all the varied fields of
Border and Wild West Romsnce—

Adventure Exploration and Sport—
City Life Charmer, Courts and Ways— ' ..»
Detective and ‘ Shadow' Revelations—
Stories of the Great Deep, etc, etc.

So that each and every number is overflowing
with reading of the most interesting and exciting
nature; while in its Special Departments; covering
all the needs, and adding to the general interest
and usefulness of the popular journal, BEADLE'S
WEEKLY is the paper of all others for your weekly
reading and entertainment.

Beadle’s “Moldy In Publlnhcd at
the Following Rates: .

For Four Months .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
For One Year . . . . . . . . . . . .. -
Too Co has for One Year. 
Single ggies . . . . ..‘ . . . . . . . . .. . . .
Supp"  all Newsdeulers.
BEA LE AND ADAMS, Punmsanns,
98 William street. New York.

mm: DIAlDGUES in SPEAKERS

F01? SCHOOL EXHIBITIONS
AND II 0110'? ENTER TAINMEN TS.

Dialogues, Nos. 1 to 31 inclusive, 15 to 23 popu-
lnr dialogues and dramas in'each hook. Each vol-
ume 100 pages l2mo.

Speakers, Nos. 1 to 24 inclusive. Each speaker
100 pages Wino, containing from 50 to 75 pieces.

2.00
3.90

 

YOUNG PEOPLE’S SERIES.

Dime Book of WinMr Sports.
Dime Book of Summer Athletic Sports,
Dime Gents” Letter Writer.
Dime Book of Eti uette.
Dune Book 0 Verses.
' Dime Book of Dreams.
Dime Fortune Teller.
Dime Ladies’ Letter Writer.
Dime Lovers’ Casket.
Dime BallARmm Com ion.
Dime Book of 1 Games.
Dime Chess Instructor.
Dim Book of Beauty.

“WWW books are sold‘ by! newsdeslera
Werywhere, will be sent, post-pig , to zany ad-
dress. on receipt or price. ten cents each. 3210!»!

 

AND Anus, Publishers. 98William st.I ,N. Y.

 

 

/ '  E’S

POCKET L RARYQ

WWW

 

 

 

 

WWWv

32 OCTAVO PAGES. PRICE FIVE CENTS.

W» «om——

ISb‘ UED E VER Y WEDNESDA I".

—-——-—-~-- 7” “~—

.1 DoMWood Dick, the Prince of the 18 Death-Face, the Detective. By E‘-
Road. By Edward L. Wheeler. ’ ward L. Wheeler. 

2 Kan-u Klfi' or The Red Right» 19 Luann Jar-k, the Young Musmfiger.
Hgmd. By B afo Blll. : By oucoomes. - , .  v

3 The Flylng Yankoe' or. The Ocean ‘ 20 Roar-In r Ralph Emmoofim 33'
OuQcast. By Col. Bren sslngraham. ' Reckless nger. By HarrySt. Gwrge.

4 Tm: Double‘Da tors. B Edward 1 21 The Boy Clown' or.   , '
L'Wheeler. g ‘ y ' 1 the Arena. By Frar’zk‘s. ‘ 

5 TheA'l‘wo nmeuveu‘. By. Albert, i 22 vn.e\phambm mung. "w  ‘
. en. - ‘ 1 J. ee er. " ,

Vina Pmlrlo'flit‘mf or,The Phantom  23 T110861! cm; or. The w " in;
393’. By Bufl’nlo'  .‘ ‘ rien. By (lmrgmd. , i  , 

1 tie «mud mon- or The Bnr- ' 24 The Dumb s . By'o'n  '
5 ~60! Jamil“, Edv'mrh L.’ Wheeler. 1”

,. {25 numb. nu ‘  ‘ 
s Antelope film, the Boy Guide. V By‘ of Kenm’fmy.  “€93,

OllCoomes. y, . . r ., » A .. ‘ - - r
V " ’ ‘ ' '26 Old Avalanche wmm-  v’ ~ « v
 8 rmnv lde,theBoyScout. By“1‘axas- ' tor. By  ',
v Jack” J.B.Omohundro). '  ~ 7 - v   r- v ',
_ _, ' ' :27 Ginsu-E c .the Great ‘Shot for-Jae“
to sum Ben, the Princeotthe mum. West. y bapt- J- 13'. 0-.MMS. i  ‘
 r ._ .n ,   l .V as The Boy oupmn; at..'rhe.m'i »»
. H hulpk Boy the Boy Buccane’er. By * Daughter- 39’ 3080‘ swmdkn  /
> - 00!. Prentiss ingra'hum. l ‘ '

 

 

V29 Dick mum 4 W »  ' 
V .. l g the Pmyflxpress
“3:35;” “m "‘Fh'h‘g, 0'» The 3"” SW 1 . Rider. By Cam'F. Whittalwr. n

By '1‘. C. uugh. . _ V ..
It ‘Yglggewyéne Jack. By Joseph E. V 3" fififlfifkfififig’mfl' Wpfym, -
a r. r. ‘ y ‘ . ‘

:31 Nightingale Nal‘ orr  ’1
By Edward L. Wheeler. 4 “Pmns- 33’ T- Chubwm " ~

45 unmade. nil-Mm. m Mvste r532 ""0" {WWW 1‘09“ MW“; 35*? ' ”

< theYellowstone, ,By 00L lngm' hag“, Jowph 1‘" Budge“ Jr' . * ‘  " L .
1‘s  h ' ' :33 Omaha all the Masked Vim-5n I!

fiyaggfifilggg'l’flnce of the Prairms. ‘ Edward L. “I”. I   .‘  

11' they»: (Son or. Nick Whimos‘s llny , 34 nu‘rt" Bunker,
’ Spy. By 0390. J. F. C. Adams. } Ggorge E. Lanna.

Beadle’s‘ Pocket Library is for aalelhy all Newodeafuw
copy, or .0an by mail on receipt; of six cents éugh. .y‘.
31mm}; AND ADAMS. P111739er 1   y
 ,, gt W7“ 3 Wing.» smog, m '

'  Wild Ivan, the 'Boy Claude Duval.