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Copyrighted,1885.hy RIMsz AN‘I‘ Annie. Kuhn-ml M NH P «I ("ﬁve at New Y-vrk, N. Y.. El Serum] Chum MAXI Mutt". On 7.1885.

 
In Your. Nu, 2N WILLIAM ST" NIC‘V Yum“.

Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains.

V1].  $2.50 Published Weeklv by Beadle and Adams, rhlzr‘lgmm N0. 

BY JOSEPH E. BADGER. JR..

AUTHOR OF “ YELLUWSTONE .wa," " HURRICANE BILL," ETC., ETC.

I'T’X‘ERING HVS WILD SLOGAN. THE MAD RIDER AGAIN CIRCLED ROUND THE ('AVALCADF.‘v TEE BEAI‘
IDEAL OF A DASHING PLAINRMAN.

 
Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains.

‘

 
Mustang Sam,
THE KING OF THE PLAINS.

A ROMANCE 0F APACHE LIFE.

BY JOS. E. BADGER, JR.,
AWIOB or “YELLowsmNE JACK,” um, ETC.

CHAPTER I.
THE DESERT KING AND HIS MASTER;

“YENDEB they come, au’ this time tho’s no
foolin’. See! blackie’s in the leadl”

“That’s none got a. better right, I don’t rock-
on. But he’s my meat, this time, er I’ll swaller
Comanche, ha’r hide, tail an’ all. But histl
Kee ready, and wait ontel I squeel.”

,“ t seems a pityto do it,” hall-regretfully
muttered the third man, the youngest of the

 
trio.

“Pity your gran'daddy! That critter is the
only one ’at ever showed his heels to Comanche,
since I’ve rid him, an’ I’m goin’ to own the var-

, mint, of I have to take an’ run him down on foot.
You mark me I”

Three'men were standing beside their saddled
and bridled horses, just within the edge of a
belt of young trees and undergrowth. Before
them lay a broad, almost level stretch of prai-

' rie, covered with a thin, sparse growth of grass.
The torenoon sun glimmered brightly from the
placid surface of a small pond, scarcely three-
score yards from where the hunters Were in am-

us .

A faint, distant rumble came to the car from
over the rairie. A mile distant, the air was
,'obscured yathin vail of dust. Through this
Eleamed a variety of colors. A drove of wild

arses were slowly trotti lg toward the spring.
The eyes of the hunters glistened and ﬂashed
with eager admiration as the mustangs came
nearer and were more plainly seen. Anzl truly
it was a thrilling, magniﬁcent sight—a treat to
all lovers of equine beauty and perfection.
/ Prancing here and there, trotting, curveting,

caraeoling, with luxuriant tail and mane ﬂoat—
ing freely upon the light breeze, their strangely-
contrasting colors formed an ever—shifting ka-
leidoscope.

At their head king of all, glided u. jot-black
stallion, a small white star marking his fore-

ead, whenever the silky foreloek was lifted by
the air. Upon this animal the eyes of the am-
. blushed trio were riveted with longing admira-
t on. .

Contrasted with a “ States horse,” the black
chief would have appeared mail, but for a“
mustang he was unusually large and powerfully
built, with race in every line of him, united
with the courage and endurance of a thorough-
bred. Its skin shining and soft as satin, With
the ﬁrm muscles quivering beneath like a net-
'work of living vines, with each motion; the
head small, lean, racer-like, “blood” all over;
ears delicate and pointed, almost trausnarent in
a clear light- well ribbed-up, ﬁne shoulders. ad-
mirable girth and loins; legs clean. slender,
ﬁrm, with superb knee-action; these were the

 
points that the three men noticed as the wild
mustanos neared the prairie spring, following
the black king in lines as regular as those of
trained cavalry.

“ I’ll have that beauty this day, or my name
isn’t Mustang Sam!” breathed one of the men,
his eyes ﬂashing, his teeth sot ciose.

“ ’Twon’t take long to tell the tale now, onless
they smell us.”

“ The wind’s from them to us—ha! hold your
critter’s nose, Toni—cf he gives voice now our
game’s played E” hastily muttered Mustang Sam,
as one of the animals tossed its head impatient-
ly. its nostrilsquivering as though about to send
forth a challenging nelgh.

With hands tightly compressing the nostrils
of their animals, two of the men stood eagerly
waitinor the moment of action. Not so Mustang
Sum. qu knew that his well-trained horse
would not give the alarm, and without so much
as rustling the leaves around, he leaped into the
saddle. Raising the plaited rope of horse-hair,
he was ready for the chase.

Strapped to the saddle was his short, hea

repeating riﬂe. Upon either hip rested a revo -
ver, “navy size,” stout buckskin thongs were
attached to the lower end of the scabbards, and
then t ed to the hunter’s thigh, thus preventing
their ﬂapping around, as well as securing the
weapons from falling out. A scarlet scarf of
Spanish silk was bound, turban-fashion, around
his head, instead of the customary som-
bI‘CIiO. Such was Mustang Sam, stripped for
wor 1.
“RE I rope blackie, you fellers never mind
me. Take your pick out o’ the gang. an” wait
here ontil I come back. It won’t be no fool o’ a
job, fer, from his looks, he’s got ther devil in
’im biggcr’n a \voodchuck."

“ The buckskin yender’s mine,” said Tom Me-
Koun.

‘ ' The steel-gray for my money 1“ echoed Ralph
Weston.

No more words were spoken, and the hunters
fairly held their breath as the black stallion
abruptly halted, his head thrown back, his
blood-red nostrils loudly sniiﬁng the tainted air.
A cold sweat started out from every re of
Mustang Sam’s skin, as he saw the blachking’s
su iplClODS were aroused, for he knew that if he
should take to ﬂight now, good-by all hopes of
effecting his capture on that day.

After several moments of this sickening sus-
pense, the desert-king lowered his proud crest,
and trotted quietly up to the pond. Around him
crowded the cavallada, in their thirst forgetting
their half-awe of their king.

At a glance from Mustang Sam, the two
hunters leaped into their saddles. Then his lips:
parted.

“Now!” -

With the speed of an arrow, chestnut Coman-

anche parted the leafy screen and darted toward '

the pond. At the thunder of boots, the mustmos
started, taming their heads in confusion and
alarm. But before they could raise a hoof 1n
ﬂight. Mustang Sam was upon them, thesnake-
like lasso cutting the air in hissing circles above
his head.

Uttering one shrill scream, the black stallion
rose into the air, crossing the pond with one

 
\\

   
Mustang Sam, the

King of the Plains.

 
mighty bound, hurlin aside the animals that
obstructed his way, ro ling several in the mud
and water. Yet, swift and strong though he
was, he could not esca 6 his fate.

The ﬂexible ropesna e shot throu h the air—
the dark coils settled fairly arouii the proud
neck—Comanche, ﬂung himself back upon his
haunchés- a hen shock—a sharp twang of tho
rope—anti then t c desert king lay humbled
upon the edge of the pond, quivering in every
11 er.

“Houp—lal glory to Jerusalem! the critter’s
mine at last i” yelled Mustang Sam, in an ecstasy
of delight.

At a. touch of the heavy Spanish spurs,
Comanche leaped forward cressin the pond
like a bird, standing over the black iing, snort—
ing proudly. With eyes only for his noble cap-
tive, Mustang Sam leaped to the ground, free-
inithe lasso from his saddle.

oosening the ti htly-drawn noose, Mustang.
with practiced ce erity, formed a “ bow—stall ”
upon the stallion.

This was the work of scarcely twenty seconds,
get Mustang Sam was none too quick. The

lack stallion began to struggle to his feet,

though still unsteady from the effects of the
stunning fall. But the hunter was ready for
him.

With a shrill, triumphant cry, Mustang Sam
twitched u n the bow-stall, at the same time
applying t e cruel rawhide quirt to the ani-
mal's quarters. As though stung into fresh life,
the stallion rose to his feet, wildly tossing its
heal-111 to rid itself of the uncomfortable bow-
sta.

A single catliko leap, and Mustang Sam Was
fairly seated astride the desert king. For one
moment the animal stood motionless, as though
carved in ebony, surprise seemingly depriving
it of the power of action.

Then it squatted close to the ground, uivcr-
ing in every muscle. Mustang Sam tig toned
the gripe of his Knees, and waited. He was not
lon kept in suspense. '

ith a shrill scream like that of a niaddencd
beast, the stallion leaped fully tweth feet for-
ward, then pausing, turned its heat, and fried
to tear the rider from its back with white,
gleaming teeth. Once, twice, Mustang San)
ﬂung forward his moccasinod feet, and the
blood trickled from the horse’s lips.

Screamin with rage and pain the stallion
’reared upright, until it seemed about to fall
backward upon its rider. With a. wild, ringing
laugh, Mustang passed one arm around the
animal’s throat, his feet locked around its body.
For a moment this; then the horse bounded
forward, ﬂinging up its heels in a succession of
mad, furious kicks. But rapid as were those
changes, Mustan Sam appeared fully equal to
the occasion. t times he lay back to back
with the stallion, his feet thrust beneath the
animal‘s forelegs; at others upright, like an
equestrian statue; at others embracing the

horse‘s neck with his arms. :

Abruptly changing its tactics, the animal lay
down and rolled over and over; but Mustang
Sam alighted upon his feet, still clutching the
lasso, and plying the riuirt with cutting force.
The stallion snorted ﬁercely as he leaped to his

  
feet, but with the same motion, Mustang 0(3qu
pied his former position. -

It was an exhibition of mad animal rage and
cool adroitnoss upon the hunter’s art. 'l‘here
was only one spectator. The wil horses had
ﬂed, an were nowa mile distant. Tom Mc-
Koun had captured his buckskin, but his lasso
broke and tho mustang escaped. Cursing his
ill-luck, the old hunter hastened to assist Ralph
Weston, who had found his match in the steel-
gray. Comanche alone remained near his mas-
ter, prancing around, snorting excitedly, his
eyes ﬂashing, mane and tail ﬂoating upon the
breeze. He had been well trained, and knew
well the plart that was expected of him. The
black sta ion tries to throw down his head
again, but now Sam takes the offensive. A
vigorous pull upon the bow-stall shuts oﬂ.’
the breath of life, and in a moment the head
lifts, gasping, half choked. Up still higher
until the forcfeet paw the air wildly, an
it seems as though the horse means to fall
over backward and crush its rider. Fall it
does, but not of its own accord. A sharp 'erk
of tho bow-stall ovoi'balances him, and he alls
heavily: but. wary and active as a panther
Mustang Sam leaps aside and stands ‘ clear of
all.” bwiftly falls the rawhide parting the
quivering skin, stinging sharply. Screamin
with pain the maddcncd desert kin leaps to h 5
feet; and at the same moment ustang Sam
vaults lightly upon its back. Once more the
quirt falls; it produces the desired effect. The
stallion stretches out his noble frame in full
speed, as a last resource, seeking to run awa
from the terrible incumbrance upon its back.
shrill whistle is answered by a neigh from Co-
manche, and the noble chestnut stretches out in
swift pursuit. And Mustang Sam laughs loudly
(ivory nervo thrilling with a wild, dehrious in-
toxication.

The landscape sweeps ast with the rapidity
of thought, all objects lending together; air
cuts the face sharp y bringing water into even
the trained eyes of the mad rider. Yet even
in that moment Mustang Sam elled aloud with
a peculiar joy as he realized he value of this
horse; in that moment the faithful Comanche
lost the place so long maintained in the heart'of
his master, for here was a rival still swifter of
foot than he. .

Cool and war , Mustang Sam closely watch-
ed his captive, 'eeping a gentle yet ﬁrm strain
upon the bow-stall, with knees pressin the
animals ribs, and toes well turned in. Wi h his
body slightly bent forward the rider was ready
for an sudden bulk or trick of the horse. But
this did not come. Evidently the stallion had
had enough of such tactics.

On with mad haste the black stallion thun-
dered, eVery muscle strained to its utmost ten-
sion; on through the brightly-glowm sun; on
over the level stretch of dry, arche , almost
grassless plain, a long line of ust marking its
progress. f

To the left, this level plain. almost a desert,
extended as far as the. naked eye could reach.
To the right, several miles awayhthe ounvlv
grew rough and broken, fantastic piles rising in
wild confusion, one overtopping the other, sonic
gloomy, others beautiful,, not a few gigantic

 
i Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains.

 
burlesques. This was the country that bordered
the San Juan.

Alread half a dozen miles had been traversed
by thewi d king, and now Mustang Sam found
himself close upon the heels of the mustcnos.
Here within reach of his lasso were a score of
untamed beauties, any of them well worth a
cast of the horse-hair rope; but the hunter well
knew that he had his hands full already.

With neighs and snorts of terror, the mus-
tangs broke and scattered upon either side, ovi-

. dently not recognizing their leader in this
strangely deformed racer. Mustang Sam cast
one anxious glance behind him; he had not time
for more. He saw that Comanche was coming
gallantly on, though full 0. quarter of a mile in

he rear.

The stalliOn began to chafe and falter in its
headlong course, eying the mustangs as they
scattered before him. Then, with a sudden,
sidelong leap, it changed its course. The stilling
bow-stall tightened, the quirt descended upon
its ﬂanks with the crack of a pistol, the huge
s urs pressed ranklmg into its ribs. Screaming
a. and with pain, rage and terror, the stallion

, once more bounded forward.

“At the p’int ahead I reckon I kin manidge
him.” muttered Mustang Sam, calculatingly.

Half a dozen miles ahead was the point alluded
to. Here the high ground, irregular and jagged,
sent a sharp spur far out into the plain; a pro-
montory, stretching into the sea of the desert.
From its extreme point, one standing upon the
crest could drop a stone to the plain, ﬁve hun-
dred feet below.

Nearer and nearer, until the jagged points
and awning seams in the rocks could be quite
plain y seen, and still the stallion gave no token
of tiring, but glided on with the same marvel-
ously swift steadiness. And a mile in the rear
came Comanche, no doubt astonished, yet un-
conquered.

A little cry breaks from the lips of the mad
rider, and with one hand he shaded his eyes,
peering eagerly toward the stupendous piles of
rocks. Distinctly outlined against the gray
masses, he could now see a number of human
beings mounted upon horseback. One of them
appeared to be waving a blanket at him; but
then a point of rock shut them from his sight.

“ Who in thunder kin they be up thar? They

must be ridin’ mounting goats, I reckon.
Whites, too, it looked like—”

\The soliloquy was ab uEtly broken, an un-
conscious curse partinfr t e hunter‘s lips. He
had rounded the point of rocks, but further ad-
vance seemed certain death. The road was
blocked; the obstacle nearlya hundred mounted
Apache warriors, in the full glory of paint,
feathers and helmets, their lance-pomts glisten-
' ominously in the sunli ht.

here was no time for eliheration; one had
toact as if by instinct. Even had the stallion

/,a.ttem tad it, he could not have halted or turned
aside gators coming into collision With the In-

" dians. This, however, it did not attempt.
Terror and pain had rendered it mad, and
stretched out like a race-horse, it carried Mus-
tang Sam blindly into the midst of his enemies.

' It was evident that the Apaches were fully as

as our friend. '1‘ e dust and sand of

 
the prairie had deadened the sound of boots
strokes. With confused cries they separated to
the right and left, giving way before the mad
rider, evidently believing him the leader of a
desperate band of like warriors.

After one ineffectual twitch upon the bow-
stall Mustang Sam dropnped the coiled lasso bo-
neath his knees, and w 'pped forth a revolver
in either hand.

It was a thrilling sight, that one man charg-
ing upon fully one hundred thoroughly armed
Apaches, and seemed certain death. The rc-
volvers spoke rapidly, Mustang not attempting
to take aim, and, indeed, in those densely
crowded masses, there was little need. A bullet
could scarcely fail of ﬁnding its billet there, and
shrill death-yells were added to the panorama.

A wild, shrill neigh from beyond the hill
point served to conﬁrm the suspicions of the
Apaches, and, with a yell of warning, the pre-
pared for the collision, scarce heeding the orse-
man as he tore through their ranks, marking his
passage with blood.

A moment later Comanche burst round the
point, and with a wild neigh charged after his
master. At nearly the same moment a warrior
gained a point from which the plain below was
visible, and his yell told the Apaches the truth;
that no other enemies were within si ht.

Resistlessly the black stallion toret rough the
Apaches, and aided by the death-dealing revol-
vers, soon gained the open plain beyond. The
ﬁring, the horrible yells and screeches, added to
what had gone before, fairly maddened the stal-
lion. With redoubled speed he ran on, straight
and true as the ﬂight of a riﬂesbullet, swift as
the passage of a wild pigeon. He was now en‘
tirely beyond the hunter’s control. Durin the
brief skurry with the Apaches, while both us-
tang’s hands were occupied with the pistols, the
noose around the stallion’s nose had shaken free,
and only the head-stall remained. As well hope
to stay a prairie ﬁre with bonds of grass, as to
check the mad horse with that.

Yet it could not be said that Mustang Sam
felt fear, as he realized this, for such a senti-
ment was foreign to his nature. From child-
hood he had played with death, and it had no
terror for him.

He saw Comanche ﬁghting furiouslyin the
midst of the war- party, biting and kicking with
deadly force, screaming with ra e and fury at
being kept from his master; and t en he saw the
snake-like coils of a dozen lassoes, as the noble
brute was thrown heavily to the ground, and a
bitter curse hissed through his teeth.

“ I’ll make ’em sick for that, or my name ain’t
Mustang Sam l” he gritted, angrily. “They’re
follerin’ us. We]. let ’em. I’d run arace with
the lightnin’ on this critter!”

Even with the hard and exhausting ﬁght, the -

long race that the stallion had already under-
gone, Mustang Sam believed that he could dis-
tance the fastest animal among the A ches.
Still an accident might change the aspec of at-
fairs, and none knew this better than be. His
keen, quick eye picked out the safest route, and
by swaying his body to one side compelled the
stallion to follow his wishes to preserve its
gauge. And thus for a full hour the race con-
lnu .

ﬁ

Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains. 3

 
/

 
At the end of that time the Apaches were
more specks in the distance, though evidently
still in pursuit. The black horse still raced on,
up arently as rapidly as at ﬁrst.

ile after mile was swiftly traversed, and the
black hide of the horse was now white with
foam and sweat. The Apaches were no longer
Visible; they were left for in the rear, if, in-
deed, they had not long since abandoned the
pursuit as hopeless.

Mustang Sain he ran to grow uneasy.

The lasso was use ess as far as the head-stall
was concerned, but Mustang doubled the slack
and thus formed a noose, which he cast over
the animal’s head. Then, bracing himself, he
pulled steadily. Almost iiisoiismly the ani-
Liialls speed slackened. The noose was choking

1m.

So busily had Mustang Sam been employed
in this that when he glanced up a cry of as-
tonishment broke from his lips. Scarce a mile
distant he could distinguish the clumsy forms
and white tilts of a number of wagons; evident-
ly a wagon-train.

These had halted, and Mustang could distin-
guish a number of men running,r to and fro as if
in confusion. Despite his fatigue he smiled
grimly, and resolved to astonish the natives.

“ I’ll make ’cm open tliar eyes wider’n that,”
he muttered, as he slackened the noose. “ I 11in
inanidge the critter well enough fer that, I
reckon.”

And bending forward, he uttered a wild yell
close to the ear of the foam-covered animal.
Like an arrow it darted forward.

 
CHAPTER II. >
‘ nonnars or THE PRAIRIE.

SWAYING his body to one side as he neared
the wagon-train, Mustang Sam caused the stal-
lion to circle round the white-tilted vehicle. and
then went through all the tricks and feats of
the A che and Comanche Indians, exhibiting
a skil that was fairly marvelous, considering
that he rode a horse without either saddle or
bridle. The emigrants followed his every mo-
tion with wondering eyes, until Mustang ulled
up the now completely exhausted and su ucd
animal.

“ E! you’re through with your tomfoolery.
stranger, mebbo you’ll come in an’ tell us what
the devil you’re drivin’ at,” quietly called out a
grizzled teainstcr.

“ Heap-la I” yelled Mustang Sam, urging his
horse once more around the train, yelling and
sf-reeching like a mad Apache; then, pausing be
fore the teamster, he lightly sprung to his feet
upon the black stallion.

“You ax who I be. I’m Mustang Sam. the
high muck-a-muck of E Pluribus Unuml I was
not by a bull whale out o’ a iceberg. I kin yell
louder, run furder. ride taster, shoot straighter,
jump higher, tell bigger lies. eat more poor bull
an’ jump outside 0’ more chain-lightnin’ than any
other two-legged critter that ever drew breath.
I’m Mustang Sam—how goes it, stranger?”

Abruntly terminating his gaseonading. the
hunter leaped to the ground and advanced to—
ward the Wagon. a leasant smile upon his face.
Although a few ey him with evident suspicion,

 
the majority crowded around him with eager
curiosity.

“ You are welcome, stranger, though you make
your appearance in rather a strange style,” said
the leader of the wngon-train—a handsome, stal-
wart man in the prime of life.

“ I’ve jest been taming me a new horse. He’s
tuck mo nighlseventy—iive miles sauce stoppin’
to breathe. Jest look at him. Ain’t; he a per-
fect pictur’!" and Mustang Sam cast an admir-
ing glance toward the black stallion, who stood
motionless as though carved from stone, thouin
the lasso hung free and unsecured.

“ Indeed he’s a beauty; but you’ve ridden him
hard.”

“ I had to do it. He had the devil in ’im.
bigger’n a woodehuck. Then I run slap-bang
into a hornets’ nest on the road. Aii’ that makes:
me think-what’s up that you’re stoppin’ hon 'l
Waitin’ for the Apaches to come ater your
skul is?” '

“ Ve’re waitin’—yes, but not for the Apaches.
Some of our company rode away to the hills7
yonder, and have not yet returned,” replied the ‘
leader with a troubled air.

“ You Won’t see ’em back this day, then: lucky
isf you ever see ’ein ag’in,”tersely added Mustang

21111.

“ What do you mean—what do you knowl 1'
them?” cried the emigrant, his bronzed face turr-
ing a shade paler.

“ The Apaches won’t let ’em. No—I don’t mean
that. The ain’t ketched yit, as I know on, but ,
they will if the ’tempts to fine Iyou in day- .
light. A horned rog couldn’t pass t 8 red 1111 is
now, unseen. It’s rough, but hat’s the trut ,
stranger. ,

“ Mebbe you know more’n you keer to tell,”
muttered a stout tcamster, suspiciously. “ They
say thar’s more’n one white devil as consorts wi‘
the ’Patchies.”

“ I know that I went throu h what‘d make
you shake your toe-nails of! wit fear, Beauty,"
sneer-ed Mustang Sam his eyes ﬁlling with a.
dan erous ﬁre. “But I’ll tang/cu, stranger, for
you ook like a white man. ou see gripped
this critter, an’ backed it at once. he t ard
and kerried me a long, way. On the road he
runned slap-bang into a full hundred A ches,
rigged out in thar war-paint. I couldn’ dod
’em, so drawed my pups an’ went in for all ’3
worth. 1 dropped two or three. then hlackie
kerried me clean through ’em. They follered.
but couldn’t shine ‘th us. The last I see’d 0’
them, they were still a-follerin’. Mebbe they
air yit, mehbe they’ve giv’ it up as a bad 10b.
But either way, be sure 0’ this—nobody cuin’t
leave them hills on this side to—day an not be
picked up by them imps. Now you know what
I meant.” . '

“ Do you think the are after the train?”

“I don’t know. hey’re loungin’ ’long the
trail, lookin’ fer some scch snap, I don’t doubt.
You must ’9) turned aside a good bit a . The
main trail’s and ten mile from this,” he ht
fully replie Sam; then he started, a race lee
tinn breaking.r upon his mind. ,

“Thar! I've seen. your fri’ndsl They’re—or
wn r—all of thirty miles from here, an’ within
mile 0’ whar I started up the Apaches. On
teller waved a blanket at inc. Ididn’t know.

 
B Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains.

 
What fer, then, but I do now. He must ’a’
knowed the Apaches war jest acrost the hill,
an’ wanted to warn me.” ~

“Did you see her—wore they all there alive
and safe?”

“ Her-thar Warn't any wimmon along, war
thar?”

“ My daughter was one of the party; and this
man’s child, too,” replied the wagon boss, yet
with a strained calmness that was unnatural and
only the more plainly betra ed his anxiety.

“An’ you let her go? X011 look like you had
more sense!” '

“‘ We didn’t dream of danger. We hadn’t
seen any sign of Indians ior a. week past.
Everything seemed quiet.”

“Jest the time you want to keep your eyes
skinned the Widest. ’

“ Well, it is done, and talking won’t help
matters. But there may be yet time to save
them. Stranger, will you guide me to where
you saw them Q” hurriedly asked the emigrant.

“Alone?”

“ No—I know there will be plenty of volun-
teers in such a cause. You hear, my lads.
Will you ride with me to save our friends!”

One or two voices replied’iu the aﬂirmative,
but for the most part silence reigned. The
eyes of the emigrant ﬂashed angrily.

“ I thought I led men not cowards!”

“Easy stranger—they’re right, au’ you
wrong. It’d take the hull lot to ride through
the Apaches, au’ then what’d come of the train?

‘.I don’t count my l1fe any better than the next
man, but I won’t lead you on no such fool trip
as that.”

“ Then I’ll go alone!”

. “Au’ throw away your own life as well as
knockin’ on the head what little chaince your
gal has of escapin’. D’you think the Apaches is
0013? Wouldn’t they see that it wasn‘t fer
nothin’ common that you was leaving the train
in th: face 0’ sech danger? Thut’d set ’em look-
in’ in the way your face'was set. An’ once
they strike the trail of your gal, the devil him-
self couldn‘t choke ’em off afore they captured
her. No. Your place is here, to help defend
the train. This night won’t pass by without
your hearin’ from the ’I’atchies. In follcriu’
me,they must ’a’ struck your trail. You kin
easy guess the rest ” reasoned Mustang Sam.

“ He is right, old friend.” said the man indi-
cated as the one whose child had also left the
train; a white-haired, Venerable patriarch.

_ “We can do nothing now; and our dear ones
are in the hands of an all-wise God!”
. ‘i’l‘har‘s sound sense, anvhow,” said Mustang.
“But, come: gear up. I’ll show yo 3. llc‘ter
place to withstand the Apaches than this. Why
all they’d hev to do would be to surround you
here, an’ starve yo out. Three miles furdor on
is d water an’ plenty grass, with a sound
but: -work besides.”

The words of the plainsman produced the de-

_ ' sired eﬂect, and a few minutes later the wagon-

traiu was movingr sfeadilv along over the hot.
dusty level. And then Mustang Sam gleaned
the followiu facts from Edward Bland, the
‘- leader of the ittle wagon-train.

The latter had been trading at Santa Fe,
when-the gold-fever broke out in California.

 
-mw

For over a year he resisted the inclination he
felt to exchange this slow, inethodic life for the
one where a fortune might be made in a. single
day; for such were the stories told of the fahu~
lous riches of El Dorado. But a. sudden and
disastrous blow deprived him of nine-tenths of
his riches, and he resolved to put the rest into a
couple of wagons and start overland for the
mines. A train was being made up by several
of his acquaintances, and he thought the chance
too good to be lost. His daughter Edith would
not consent to being left behind, and he could
not resist her Headings, the last of all his loved
ones, though 10 know that the overland trail
was thick-strewn with danger and privatiozi.
And the fact of Thomas Hcﬂin taking With him
his daughter Ellen, helped him to decxdo in
Edith’s favor.

Thus far the journey had been a monotonous
one; nothing had been seen of hostile Indians.
They were now on the western side of the
Sierra do Chuska, in' the wild, almost barren
country over which Fort Deﬁance stands remote
scntr '; the raiding-ground of four great and
warlico tribes. On the north dwelt tho Utsn;
the Nuvajoes on the west; the Apaches on the
south; and tho Comanchcs on the east. The
country was broken with yawning canyons,
thousands of feet in depth. In places the
scenery was grand—sublime. The hand of na-
ture had eclipsed the grandest conceptions of
architectural man.

This, too, was the traditional land of the chil-
dren of the sun; the land of the Montczumas—
of the mound-builders' the land Where were to
be found the remarkable Casas Grandes.

The night before, the wagon-train halted
within sight of what agitpeared to be one of those
mammoth ruins, and ith Bland could not rest
until assured that she should visit the spot.
With the ﬁrst light of day, the little party set
out on hers back, four in number: Edith and
Ellen, accompanied by Captain Tom Day, an
ofﬁcer of the regular army, on extended leave,
and Arthur Hamilton. The train moved slowly
on and the quartette were expected to rejoin
it long before noon. At length growing uneasy
at their protracted absence, the ruins having
long been lost sight of the wagon- rain was
halted. At this point ’Musmg Sam joined
them, as narrated.

“Hyar’s the place I meant,” at length cried
Mustang. dismouuting from the black stallion,
that now followed his every step with the meek
docility of a spaniel. '

A huge mass of granite stood upon the plain,
gray and bare. From its base gushed forth a
spring of clear, cold water, forming a miniature
pond, then ﬂowing away, to be quickl ' ab-
sorbed by the thirsty sands of the desert. pon
three sides the rock, or, in prairie parlance, the
mesa, was perpendicular as the sides of a house.
The fourth—that upon which was the spring—
was several feet narrower at the base than the
too. “

The wagons were drawn up in a double line,
bending outward like a b0w..el_ther end restin
ﬁrmly against the rock. Willing hands lie
Dick and shovel, and the wheels were let own
into rats cut for the purpose, until the axles
rested on the ground. The dirt thus removed

Mustang Sam, the King of the Plaini. 7

 
was used to form a lu‘cushvnrk along the barri-
cade, behind which the emigrants could lie and
lire upon the enemy. The horses were fastened
inside the corral; tho mules securely totherrd
without, us it was not likely the Apaches would
wantonly slaughter them as long as a chance
remained of their succeeding in capturing the.
train, as that would be but to r1 :1) themselves.
By the time these preparations were com-
pleted the sun was low down the western hori—
zon. As yet nothing had been seen of either
friends or foes. ' If the Apaches had indeed die;-
covcred the trail of the wagon-train, they were
waiting for the shades of night to cover their

. approach.

“Ef you’ll lend me your critter, Bland, an’ I
kin git him over this, 1’“ take a ride out to 500.
what kin be seen. I’ll leave lackie as security,”
laughed Mustang Sam.

“ Take him and welcome. Pray God that you
may learn something of my child,” earnestly re-
plied the emigrant.

“Pray that they’ve ke'it to the hills, instead,
fri’nd. Jest as sure as t iey ventur’ out on the
open afore night, they’ll be cahbaged by them
devils. But of they lay low ontel we’ve whipped
the imps, they’ll stand a good show of giltin’ in.
But here goes; I’ll be both b ' ‘usk,” and Mus-
tang Sam galloped swiftly ax

“Good-by your .ct hoss, he
swart teamster. ‘ I b’licve he

   
growled the
no better’n a

 
S

'hoss-thief, fer all his ﬁne airs.”

“I’d gladly lose the horse if I could only
know that his story was all a lie; but I feel it is
the truth,” gloomin responded Bland.

The hours dragged wearily enough to the
anxiously-waiting emigrants, and as the sun
sunk to rest, and the shades of night fast deep-
ened around them, without bringing the stran-
rer hack, suspicion gradually gained ground.

ut this was dissipated by the return of Mus-
tailiig Sam at length.

6 said that ho had taken the back trail to
the point where he had ﬁrst joined the train,
then followed up his own tracks. From this
he had found where the Apaches had abruptly
struck over to the wagon-trail. 13y close creep-
ing leaving his horse hidden in a ravine, he
had reconnoitcred the bivouac of tho Apaches.
Though beyond ear—shot, he knew from their
actions that they meant to attack the wagon
train before another sun rose.

“Let ’em come!” he said, grimly. “They’ll
go back ’th a ﬂed in thar ear—at least, some 0’
them. We kin ﬂax ’em easy. All we have to
do is to lay low un’ ﬁre close.”

With such words of careless conﬁdence he
nerved the few faint—hearted ones, until even
they appeared ready and eager for the fray.

he moon sunk behind the mesa, the four-
footed animals dazed placidly at their posts, and
still the enemy did not come. The more incx
perienced emigrants began passing their jokes
and gibes, as they lay in the damn ditch. But
Mustang Sam only smiled ouietlv. He knew
that the hour was steadily, if slowly, drawing
nigh. when all this would he changed.

“ Thor’s somethin’ creepin’ up out tlmr—either
a coyote or a red-skin,” muttered Sweatman,
the surly teamster.

“You’ve got good eyes, my man,” said Mus-

 
tan~ Sam, up roving] '. “ It’s a two-1e ed
coyﬁtc, and hotIior hair.3 Mebbe he’ll get shgged
hisself, instead 0’ shavin’ us.”

Drawing his knife, Mustang silently writhed
his way through the barricade, and stealthil
glided toward the creeping figure. He saw 1:
abruptly pause, and knew that he was discov-
ered. Wittout hesitating a moment, Mustang
veered slightly to one side, his face turned ar-
tially away from the. shadow, though wit a
:idelong glance his keen eyes took in ever mo-
tion of the spy. The Apache evidently be ievcd
himself unseen, and closely hugged the ground
as Mustang glided on.

Then, with n. sidelong leap, Sam alightod fair-
ly upon the red-skin’s shoulders, driving his
head deep into the (lr sand. And the next mo-
mcnt the long-ldadcd mite was crimsonecl in the
Indinn’s heart's blood.

But swift and deadly as was the blow, a half-
stiﬂed (hath-shriek burst from the red-skin’s
lips, breaking the silence with ahorrible distinct-
ness. And like echoes the thrilling Waikcry of
Apaches followed, until the desert seemed ﬁlled
with demons thirsting for blood.

“Stcudy, lads—air give ’em ge-loryl” yelled
Mustang Sam, as ho darted hack to the corral.
“ Don’t waste your lead—thar’ll be chaineo
a— ilenty fer each one, afore the night’s out 1”

1Yo ling madly, the Apaches char ed around
the mesa upon either side within a ozen spear-
lengths before being visib 0. Then a line at fir.
ran along the barricade. At such close quar-
ters, the result could not be otherwise than
deadly, despite the gloom that rendered all
attempt at aim futile. The shrieks and cries
of the (lying were added to the charging ell, ,
the heavy thud and confused trampin ofytho
half-tamed mustuncs’ hoofs, the spitef crack-
ing of riﬂes and the shrill twanging of how-
strings. ‘ ‘

Still, though checked for a moment by the
determined and deadly resistance, so much
more determined than what they had antici-
pated, the Apaches were not re ulscd. Utter-
ing anew their yells. they urged heir mustanlfs
against the barricade, and then leaped 1306' y
u n the wagon-tops, evidently resolved to and
t e matter by one desperate nsrault. But the
had1 to encounter enemies Well worthy ther
stce . ‘

As the dusky ﬂcnds sought to scale the barri-
cade of wagons. they were met with pistol-shots
and clubbed riﬂes, and, when possible, with
knife—rhrusts.

The furious onslaught; the deadly repulse;
the cracking of pistols and riﬂes, the louder de-
touation of carbines; the deadly whistling of .
bullets and hurtling of arrows; the clash of steel:
the wild yells of one, the hoarse cheers of the
other; the blood-curdling war-whoop: the stiﬂed
cry of imprceation as a foeman’s weapon
pierced the sensitive flesh, with now and then a.
dull thud that, once heard. can never be asso-
ciated with anything else as rmre human: form
falls dead to its mothrr earth; the moon: and
groans of the mortally wounded, as they lie
writhing upon the ground, beneath the rock,-
lessly—tmmpling feet of the combatants: the
stentorian orders of the leaders; the yells of .
bafﬂed hatred and tramp of the retiring onos‘

 
Mustang Sun. the

King of the Plains.

 
and then the lorious sound of the cheer of
victory that we ed up from the throats of those
brave men as the last living savage disappeared!

It was a wild, thrilling drama.

“Eas , lads—thar may be some skulkers
about y t,” cautioned Mustan Sam, as he drew
his knife and leaped over the rricado.

But the re ulse was complete and thorough.
The A aches retreated in hot haste, carrying
with t em all of their number that had fallen
without the corral.

The hearts of the emi rants sunk as they

' called the muster—roll. ven of the number
did not answer. They were alread growing
cold in death. 0f the remainder, f 1y 1!. dozen
were more or less severely wounded, so des—
perate had been the assault.

Still, this was no time for idle repinings, and
the survivors careful] reloaded their ﬁrearms,
and lying in the blood‘ of their slaughtered com-
rades awaited the expected assault.

 
CHAPTER III.
.MUSTANG IN ms ELEMENT.

,BU'r in this expectation they were most agree-
ably disappointed The remainder of the night
were away, unbroken by the wild char ing cry
of the Apaches, and when the light of ay cast
its ﬁrst glimmerings over the desert and around
the mesa, the emigrants felt a peculiar thrill of
triumph, as they saw no sign of the enemy.
The Apaches had measured metal with them,
and more-than satisﬁed, had sought more con-
genial uarters. This was the proud thought
that thrilled the hearts of the majority, and in
it the wounded forgot their hurts and exulted
with the rest. .

“Don’t be sech fools, boys,” at length said
Mustan Sam, in a quiet tone. “You’ve did
well an whipped the varmints right han’some-
lly, I know; but you ain’t out o‘ the woods yit.

he varmints kin count nigh three heads to our
one, an’ kin easy bring more to the fore. Then
is it like] they’d give all up for one little hidin’?
go; 311.10 1 They’ll try it on ag’in, be sure ’0

I “ But they’re gone,” muttered Sweatman.

“ So’sthe night; but thar’s another one comin' ;
an’ jest’ so sure them Apaches ’11 try it another
whack. Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t say
we won’t whip ’em in the eend; of you a ﬁght
like, on did last night, we could ﬂax th devil
hisself with all his imps to back ’im. But come
gg’in " they will—0r my name ain’t Mustang

am.

“You talk too slow. Heﬂiu,” impatiently iu--
ten'upted Bland. “What we want stung,
is for you to give us a description of the p e
where you saw our friends yesterday so that
zigzagmeed be no time lost in hunting for their

“ I don’t reckon thar’s any need 0’ giyin’ you
am 0’ the trail, ’slong’s I go with ye, 15 that-l”
quie y replied Mustang Sam.

“ Will you go? Then there is some hope? for
if can do it, you» will save them!” joyously

cried efhn.

f‘I’ll do what I kin. Now, boys, look here.
Yousee what we want. I don’t so. that’s no
danger, but when awoman wants p a man

don’t hold back for that. “'0 three men are
oinl—but we want help. We may hcv some
ghtin’ on the road, but We’ve ﬂaxcd the var-

mints once, an’ We kin ag’in. VVho‘ll go?”

The answer was unanimous. Not one of the
entire com any, wounded as well, but eagerly
volunteerc for duty. Mustang Sam laughed
pleasantly, his eyes sparkling with pride.

“Not all—some must stay to look a’ter the
wagons. When they see we’ve divided, the
Apaches may take a notion to try thar hands
ag’in. So you see these who stay behind ’11 licv
tha’r shar’ 0’ fun, too. "

Enough of the uninjured men were selected to
make the sallying party an even score in num—
ber, and then they prepared for work, overhaul-
ing their weapons and horse equipage, packing
water and rations for each man, securely at—
tached to their saddles. Mustang Sam caution-
ed the men remaining to defend the corral, giv—
ing them hints as to the various stratagcms the
Apaches might attempt, and their best methods
of defense.

Then the party rode forth from the corral, and
Mustang Sam bestrode the black stallion, now
fully recovered from the killing race of the pre-
cedin day, and full of ﬁre; yet the lesson re-
ceiv was not forgotten. It was as thou h be
had been raised a pet from colthood. The s ight-
est word or motion of its master was instantly
obeyed and the stallion seemed proud of its
newly-found master.

In sheer exuberance of spirits the well-matched
cou le circled around in the little cavalcade, now
ha) a mile in advance, now far in the rear, dart-
ing swiftl to one side or the other. It was like
a boy fres loosed from school. And while they
wondered at the exquisite horsemanship thus
displayed, the emigrants caught some of the
hunter’s enthusiasm, and at that moment would
unhesitatingly have followed his lead even though
he had charged into the midst of the entire Ap—
ache tribe.

For an hour or more they progressed thus, yet
nothing had been seen of the Apaches. It seemed
as though they had ﬂed far from the s ot of
their discomﬁture. But Mustang Sam be ieved
different. That was not Apache nature. Though
possibly they might not venture another attack

or days, even weeks, they would hover around
the train, watching for a favorable opportunity
to pounce, vulture-like, upon their prey.

‘ It seems to me, stranger that you are not
acting very wisely,” at length observed Bland.
“The time may come when you will need all
that waste wind and speed.”

“ Thar’s a-plenty more whar that come from.
fri’nd. Bless yo, man, a month 0’ sich play
wouldn’t faze this critter. He’s the animile
what was chased by a norther clear from the
Yallerstone falls to the Big Red, an’ it couldn’t
catch a hair 0’ hes tail. He was got by chain-light-
ning out of a harrycane, an’ his name’s Tornado.
Houp-la I”

Uttering his wild slogan, the Mad Rider again
circled round the cavalcade, the beau ideal of a
dashing, reckless plainsman. Though but little
above the medium hight, he was a model of
masculine symmetry. At ﬁrst glance he seemed
slightly built, but in prairie parlance, “he was

 
all thar.” The long, round limbs were all bone

Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains. I 9

 
_.

and tem ered muscle; the round compact chest
and ha y, with their ﬂanks; the well—shaped
head and neck would have been admired 1) a
sculptor, and his garb was one well titted to ( ‘s-
play his form, the color bright, even gorgeous.

A blue broadcloth jacket, ornamented with
numerous silver buttons and golden toys; 8. vol—
vet vest of similar splendor, over a shirt-bosom
of crimson silk, beautifully embroidered, no
doubt a. gage d’amour; trowsers of the same
material as the jacket, slashed from the knees
downward, laced with a golden cord, and thick
ly studded with silver buttons and Spanish
coins; gayly-beaded moccasins covered his small,
well-she. feet, armed at the heel with a huge

air of exican spurs. Around his head was
)ound the same silken sash that had been donned
while watching the mustenos. Erom beneath
this fall in wild profusion long curling locks of
black hair, reaching half-way to his waist. A
long, silken mustache, arched eyebrows, and
keen, ﬁery eyes, all of the same Jetty hue, lcnt
ﬁrmness to the otherwise almost eii’eminately
beautiful face' for the mouth was small, the
red lips slightly ponting, the teeth even and
white as pearls, and a spot of crimson burned
upon either cheek. His age could not have
greatly exceeded twenty-ﬁve years.

In one of his mad circuits, Mustang Sam
abruptly checked Tornado, and leaping erect
upon his back, gazed steadily toward a long,
low sand-ridge, several miles to their left, and
rear. The others followed his eyes, but could
see nothing.

“ What is it, stranger?” asked Bland, his heart
throbbin fast.

“Apac es, I reckon. Yes—the ’re out from
the bank now. A right smart c ance of ’em,
too. They’re ridin’ hot foot to cut us oﬂ? from
the train,” was the prompt reply.

“ Can’t we reach the hills before them?”

“I reckon we could, of we tried hard, but
your critter wouldn’t be worth much when we
got thar. Sech big, heavy-footed critters ain’t
lit fer this deep sand business. A mustan can
discount ’em in along race. I reckon we" bet-
tor take it cool, an’ keep our animals ready for
wor .

“But they’ll run us down—a. charge would
swallow us up—they’re so many,” doubtfully
added Bland.

“ We could keep the ﬂies of! 0’ them, anyhow,
while they was doin’ that. But thar—we’re both
ialkin’ nonsense, old man. Them In'uns ain't
:x-g-oin’ to run that heads ag'inst us, t at way.
’l‘hey know we‘ve got riﬂes an’ revolvers, an”
that we know how to use em too. Long’s
twenty men keep in a bunch With eyes open,
nothin’ short of a thousand ’Patchies is gom’ to
charge ’em in good airnest. They’ll try to skeer
us an’ make us scatter like a brood 0’ young
quail—then they’d snipe us in.”

While speaking. Mustang Sam was looking to
his weapons, and his coolness soon restored the
oquanimity of the party, more than one of whom
was now upon his “ ﬁrst trail."

“ They’re comin’ a’ter us, lickety-splitl" said
Sweatman.

‘ “You ain’t skeered, Beauty?” laughed Mustang

i

B I].
“ Not very bad. I’ve See’d Apaches store to-

 
day—fee, an’ ﬂt ’em, too, afore you saw day-
lig t,’ was the grim reply.

“Good! give me ilfty boys like you, an‘ I‘ll
agree to drive out the hull Apache nation afore
Christmas time. "

“Ef you’re al’ays like you was last night, I
wouldn’t ax no better leader,” and Swoatmau’s
surl voice softened.

“ ut—you’ro sech a all-ﬁred grumblerl”

“I kin bite, as Well as growl—but not a
fri’nd.”

From that hour on, Mustang Sam never had
a more devoted friend than “ Growlin Dan.”

The A aches were now distinctly visib a rush-
ing on ike a wind-storm, their long anccc:
brandished above their heads, their yells, even
at that distance, reaching the whites. Mustang
Sam smiled grimly.

“ They’ll soon change that when thxeli see we
don’t skeer wu’th a. cent. I don’t th' they'll
char e ’ithin range, but ef they do, we’ll soon
send em to the right about. But thar mustn’t
be no foolish waste of powder. I’ll take the
fu’st shot, then on three tellers here. Ef that ,
don‘t stop ’em, ’11 call out the ones to ﬁre in ‘
tha’r turn. Let ’em once git us with empt-
we’pons, an’ they’d ride over us like nothm.
Mind now; keep cool an’ ‘we may be happy
yit’!” and the party laughed loudly at t e
slang phrase that was then in every western
man 8 month.

Riding at a slow trot the emigrants pursued
their route, though naturally casting many
glances over their shoulders. The Apaches
were now within half a mile, still char 'ng
madly on stretched out in an irregular no
formed of little clumps, according to the speed
of their animals.

“Cowedl” shouted Sweatman, loudly laugh-
ing, as the foremost Apaches slackened their

speed.

“ The don’t know what to make of it,"
smiled ustang. I

It was evident that the savages were note. '
little puzzled by the actions of the emigrants, so
diﬂerent from what might have been expected;

But they were still sore from their defeat of v
the est night, and as the stragﬁgars came up,
the ending brave appeared to addressihng
them with ﬂery eloa‘uence, judging from
animated features. hen uttering e thrillin
war-cry, the entire party charged forwa ,
brandishing their lances, orbows and arrows,
with a few guns; for at that time the Apaches
were but poorly supplied with ﬁrearms.

“ Steady lads—wheel about an’ remember
what I said to you about hoidin’ your ﬁre,”
coolly ordered Mustang Sam. r

Motionless as statues the emigrants faced the
yelling horde, their wea us in readiness for use
in case their young 1 er should be wrong in
his reasoning.

Though so vigorously begun the charge of the ,
Apaches weakened toward t e end, and when
Within two hundred yards of the little band, the
black mass divided and swept around the emi-
grants until they stood in the center of a double
circle revolving in different directions.

“Steady, tharl” cried Mustang Sam, as the '
emigrants showed confusion. “ Turn ‘ our
horses‘ tails together, but wait ontel you hear

 
.. w-n....l_.- ._s.—.— *W

 
Mustang Sam, the

King- of the Plains.

 
from me. The varmints is only tryin’ to skcer
us.

The 'men obeyed promptly, and quickly a
hollow circle was formed, t 6 face of eachtrider
toward the rapidly galloping savages. Yelling
and screechin more like ﬁends incarnate than
humans, the aches were gradually narrowing
their cordon. ut Mustang Sam had witueSSed
such tactics before, and he resolved to Checkmate
the move.

“ Hold fast, boys. I’m goin’ out to drop a ver-

mint. Ef they make a break ’ithin range, splat—
ter away at ’em, as I told ye store. Don’t ﬁre
all to onc't.”

With the last words Mustang touched Tornado
with the spur, and the stallion bounded like a
deer over the dry sand, carrying its master
within range of the savages before they divincd
his pu 039. Then at a. twitch of tho bow-stall,
he smo motionless as a. rock, while the border-
er's riﬂe lea d to his shoulder.

The Apac es in front tried to evade the shot
by ﬂinging themselves behind their horsos’ bodies,
but the A ache aimed at was too slow. VVJth
the s itefu crack of the ranger’s riﬂe, the Indian
was urled far from his horse, shot throu rh the
body, the terriﬁc fall ﬁnishing what the mullet
began. He lay as he fell, a quivering mass 01?
lifeless humanity.

A. tauntin yell broke from Mustang’s lips as
he noted t e effect of his ﬂying shot. The
Apaches appeared fairly beside themselves with
rage at this bold defiance, and screeching; like
demons the charged, with bows bent and ﬁre-
erms exten ed.

Fully a. dozen of the nearest braves made a
dart at Mustang,r Sam, whose riﬂe they knew to
be empty, and they hoped to avenge the death
of their comrade a. volley of ivrows before
the le-face coul retreat to his men. But
M g did not mean to retreat just then.
The ﬁghting devil was roused in his breast, and
he was like a starving panther at the ﬁrst taste
of blood.

A lance showed him that the emigrants
stoodgrmhnd were notshukcn by the prospect
of a collision, then he dropped his riﬂe across
his thigh, drawing a revolver in either han l.
 eye glared like living coals; his face was
stern-set and white almost as a statue of mar-
ble. Awonderful change was wrought in the
prairie dandy.

With a. single yell he urged Tornado forward,
guidin him alone by his knees and the swaying
of his 'the body. Almost before the Apaches
could realize his movement. he was upon them.
Snorting angrily with gleaminlr teeth and
burning eyeballs, Tornado urled himself upon
the nearest mustang, bearing both horse and
rider to the ground in a. confused heap.

Taken by surprise, the. Apaches scattered
u 11 either side, and their arrows, discharged

most without an attempt at aim, hurtled wide

.of the mark. In rapid succession the borderor’s
'revolver spoke, until a. roll of smoke seemed to
surround

him. Here, there, forward, backward.
to the right or left, Tornado plunged, guided
by his master‘s body, and the pistols claimed a

ctim, now a horse, now a rider. The Apaches
yelled in tones of wonder and half dismay. Pro-
bably not a dozen braves in the Apache nation

 
had heard of the deadly revolver; little wonder
then that they were awed by this brave who
could ﬁre all day without once stopping to re-
load his wea ons.

Tornado p unged heavily against a mustang
striking it to the ground with his hoofs. And
then, for the moment free of immediate antag-
onists. Mustang Sam cast a glance toward hlS
comrades.

The Apaches had charged in good earnest.
Though knowinr that some of their number
must full, they ﬁwlieved they could ride down
the pale-faces with one rush by mere force of
numbers. But Mustang Sam’s inﬂuence still
remained with the emigrants. Swiftly suc-
ceedng each other, the three marksnien he had
selected, picked their man and ﬁred as soon as
they came Within range. So coolly and delib-
erate] had they ﬁred, that two braves fell dead
and t 0 third was crushed beneath the body of
his mustang, whose tossed head had received
the bullet intended for its master‘s heart. Then
the voice of Edward Bland rapidly called aloud
the names of his comrades in succession, not a
man touching trigger until called upon, and in
full half the  dropping his game. ,

“Hold your places! Out your revolvers and
show them your metal, lads!” shouted Bland,
setting the good example.

It was at this moment that Mustang Sam took
in the scene, and a. glow of pride crimsoned his
check as he noted the cool bravery of his little
band.

Fully a dozen savages were between him and
the party of emigrants, half of them seeingr
naught but him. Bending forward, Mustang
shouted to his charger, and dashed upon the
enemy. They sprung aside, plying their bows.
But a, ﬂying target is difﬁcult to hit, especially
when it holds a brace of revolvers. A moment
later the Mad Rider reached his comrades, and
loudly cheered them on with their deadly work.

The savage never were paint that could long
withstand such a withering fusilade, While so
inefﬁciently armed himself. For a. moment they
wavered, then turned and abruptly retreated.
though not so hastily, but that they carried oil?
their dead and disabled warriors. But if re»
pulsed, they were not defeated. A sullen yell
answered the triumphant cheers of the pale-
faccs. It said that the end was not yet.

A hasty. examination showed the following:
two men were dead, transﬁxed with feathered
shafts; several others were wounded, but none
seriously. Must-m: Sam himself carried one
arrow in his shoulder. nnd another in his left
thirzh; fortunately neither were more than
slight ﬂesh wounds. Of the horm, one was
killed, with a. number of scratches among the
others.

“ We got off lucky that time, all thinrt‘s con-
sidered. But those poor fellows—” and Bland’s
voicc faltered.

“They died like men. no7 they shall have a
decent burial, of I die for’tl Tie ’em on the
extra boss, an‘ of the Apaches sits thur skulps,
they must raise mine fu’st," said Mustang.

“ What shall we do now?” asked Heﬂin.

“We sot out to go to the hilIS, so I reckon
we’ll keep on.”

" They are between Its-n"

/

Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains. 11'

 
“Let ’em stay thar. They’ve had one taste
of what we’re made of, an’ of they bunker u’ter
it, I reckon we kin spuro ’cm another. But
you’ll see ’em scatter. They may keep around
us, but as long’s we keep in a bunch, it’ll be be—
yond range, you bet!”

Bearing in their midst tho horse upon whose
back the two dead emigrants were bound, the
party advanced. As Mustang Sam had pre-
dicted, the Apaches gave way before them,
keeping beyond riﬂe-shot, though still surround-
ing the cavalcude.

‘or fully an hour the emigrants marched on
thus. Then Mustang uttered a low cry, and
shading his eyes with one hand, peered eagerly
before him. An Apache, bestriding a noble
chestnut is there, galloping swiftly buck and
forth. There could be no mistake.

‘It‘s Comancl e, by the ’Turnulli’ grittcd
Mustang, his eyis ﬂushing, his chest heaving.
“ Boys, that boss is mine, sui’ I’ll have him back
or bu’st somethin’ in the tryin’ l”

“ It would be madness to risk a. race now 1”

“But I’ll do it, of I coin’t manidge any other
way. No red nigger ain’t ugoin’ to ride Com-
anche while I live,” quietly replied Mustang,
placing his thumb and foreﬁnger to his month.

At the shrill whistle, the noble chestnut ab—
ruptly halted and ﬂung up his head, neighing
loud] . Again the well-known signal sounded,
and t en the animal recognized its master.

With a. shrill shriek of joy, the animal
stretched out in full speed toward the emigrants,
its rider desperately tugging at the reins. The
Apaches uttered yells of surprise and warning,
doubtless thinkim' their comrade mad.

Straight as an arrow Comanche made for his
master, and Mustang laughed loudly as he noted
the ludicrous terror unprinted upon the Indinn’s
face. Half-frantic with fear, the Apache drop-
ped the reins and leaped to the ground. rolling
over and over in the mud. Before he could make
an attempt to rise, Mustang Sam’s riﬂo spoke,
and a bullet crashed its way through the red-
skin’s brain.

“ Look out! they’re charging!” cried Edward
Bland.

“Let ’em come! Good boy, Comanche! Ain’t
he a jewel, boys?" cried Mustang, as the Chest-
nut halted beside him. whickering with delight,
reaching up his velvet muzzle for a caress from
his loved master. “But I'm goin’ to lift that
varmint’s hair—so look out. Houp—la I” added
Sam, as he leaped into Comanche’s saddle and
darted ahead.

The black stallion snorted angrily, and then
ranged alongside the chord nut. But for a sharp
word from Mustang there would havo been n
Epistle royal between the equine rivals, there and

an.

The Apaches evidently divinod the Mud
Rider’s object, and with new yells they ﬂocked
forward. But, laughing loudly, Mustang rench~
ed the corpse first. mid swneping around it,
without slackeninﬂ.r his speed in tho least. he,
stooped low and clutched the head of the «load
brave, with a strength Wonderful in one of such
build. lifting it up and ﬂinging the. body across
the saddle. Then the knife {histh forth. and a
rapid circling motion removed the trophy.

winging it above his head, Mustang uttered a

 
taunting yell, as he wheeled once more into po-
sition at the head of his men.

The deed fairly maddench the A aches, and
brought on another conﬂict. Wit ravenin
yells, they dashed upon the com act hand. An
once more the riﬂes spoke rapi 1y, but the Suv-
ag‘cs dash on.

 
CHAPTER IV.
STRIKING TRAIL.

THE nmddened Apaches charged with a fury
that seemed irresistible. The little, lean, wiry
horses were going at full speed, apparently wit
momentum, audacity and (lush enough to break
a square of infantry, or carry a battery of artil-
lery. For a moment the little band of emigrants

seemed doomed. It did not seem possible that,

they could escape being massacred to a man.

But then the riﬂes of the falc-fnees spoke in
regular rotation, and being held b men who
were cool as though at play. the. lcat en missich
told severely upon the charging red-skins.
Yet the Apaches dashed on with unabated
vigor, lowering the steel ioints of their lances,
as though meaning to c urge bodily over the
enemy.

“Give ’cm your pistols, but keep your places,
an’ we’ll whip ’em yitl” yelled Mustang Sam.

For a second time that day, the revolvers of
the emigrants sounded the death-roll. Each man
iircd as rapidly as he could cock his weapon,
and the reports were blended together in one
long, rattling roll, answered by tWanging bow-
strings and cluttering lances.

Yet, despite their loss, despite the fact that
one or more of their numhcr dropped to the
blood-stained sand with every lea of their mus-
hugs. the Apaches charged on. he insult ﬂung
in their teeth b Mustang Sam seemed to have
completely mm (lcncd them, and rendered than
inscnsihlo to fair or prudence.

T120 foremost braves dashed with leveled lanccs , i -

at the Mud Rider, determined, to have revenge.
Musiung Sam laughed recklessly as he prepared
for them.

Ate. touch of his knees, Comanche bounded
forward, and swaying his bod

ping it in twain. At the same moment his re-
volver spoke. and a second Apache reeled back,
the blood gushing ﬁtfully from his broad chest.

“ Look out thar, Mustang 1” came Sweatman’s J

Wu rniug voice.

The Mad Rider turned his head and realized
his danger. The Apache he had disarmed of
his lance bud drawn a knife and‘was even then
bending forward to make a ﬁnishing thrust. ,

Swaying lightly to one side, Mustang swept
around his heavy revolver, the barrel striking
the red-skin’s wrist. A howl of angry pain
broke from his lips as the member fell, the bones
cracking like dried reeds. Bending low along
his animal’s back. he turned and fled from the
shot of death. His example seemed contagious.
Stunned and confused by the rapidly—detonatiandg
revolvers. that seemed never to require relo -
iner. the Apaches retreated in sad disorder.

Scarce one minute had ela sed since the
charge began before the Apac 95 were once
more beyond riﬂe-range.

to one side, '
M ustung caught the long, scalr- edecked shaft
beneath his arm, with one quid: motion snap- \.

 
|

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vats“. .
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18

Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains.

 
The emigrants had not escaped unscathed.
Three of their number were dead' others were
wounded. The survivors looked grave and
stem. One—fourth of their number had wasted
away since leaving the wagon corral, and yet
they were not half-way to the point of rocks.
The prospect began to look gloomy. If the
Apac as should continue their furious charges,
they must rove victorious in the end. Yet the
men silent { obeyed when Mustan bade thcm
bind their allen comrades upon t o backs of
the extra. horses. No one protested against
the journe bein continued, though more than
one thong t of t 6 little stream of water that
ﬂowed from the mesa spring, out into the dcsert
sa’nds, gradually growing less and less, until the

y, insatiable desert gulped down the last

rop; and a similar fate seemed to be in store

for them. They were the stream, the Apaches
were the desert sands.

With Mustang Sam leading the way, the little
cavalcade rode steadil onward, bearing their
dead in their midst. T ey rode in silence now.
The mocking laughter, the jests and rcpartees
were no lon or heard.

The Apac es were still within sight, though
more to the rear of the pale-faces, drawn to-
gether evidently earnest] consulting. It
seem as though they had given up all hopes of
conquering that bravo handful; but Mustang
and Sweatman did not reason in that way.
They read the Apache nature too thoroughly to
fall into such an error.

“ Den’t you b’lieve it, fellers,” Sam said; “ we
hain’t seed the last 0’ them yit. I don’t my
they’ll charge us ag’in, like the last time, fer I
think we giv’ ’em a 001 dose then, but they’ll

* hang around an’ watc their chainces to git in a
underhand lick. But ef we keep our eyes open,
I reckon we’ll fool ’ern yit.”

Ridin steadily on, the emigrants soon lost
sight 0 the Apaches entirely. Some believed
theenemy had gone back to the corral, thinking
tosecure an easy victory there, but, knowing

‘ a how strong the position was, little fear was felt

as to the result.

« All at once Mustang Sam reined in Comanche

and motioned to his followers to halt, bending:
. his head forward in eager listening. A rapid

glance ran round the party. The same thought

struck each and every one of the living riders.

‘fOur fri’nds is in trouble yonder ’mong the
hills,” said Mustang, his eyes glowing;I “ It was
awhite man‘s riﬂe that I heard. ebbe we‘ll
bein time yit if we hurry,” and he urged Co-

“ manche onward.

At breakneck speed the party dashed on. In
front rode Mustang Sam, still bestriding the
proud Comanche, while Tornado kept Close
alongside, jealously eying his rival.

The point of rocks loomed up more and more
distinctly, and it was now plain that the alarm-
ing sounds proceeded from the other side of the
spur. It was plain that a stout defense was be-,
ing made. The quick, sharp reports of revolv-
ers were heard, mingling with wild yells, and
an occasional shriek of some human being in
mortal agony.

’It was no time to consult caution or prudence.
‘ Even the loss of a moment mi ht be fatal.
“stung Sam turned his head an waved a re.

 
volvcr toward his followers, then dashed swift-
ly around the 0th of rocks. Unhesitatingly
the emigrants ollowed.

A thrilling sight burst upon the vision as
Mustang Sam dashed around the rocky point.
A lcdgo of rocks, some forty feet above the
level of the desert, was thickly vailed with
smoke from the revolver-muzzles that still vom—
ited forth death. At the foot of this ledge, yell-
ing wildly. trying to scale the rocks, was a
horde of dusky ﬁgures—the hornets of the prai-
rie. Not all were standing erect. The ground
was strewn with motionless bodies, their 11%
natural position plainly telling that death had
claimed its rey.

This muc the one glance showed Mustang
Sam, but he did not stop to count the odds. A
revolver in either hand, he uttered his wild war-
cry, and urged Comanche forward at full
speed. Start ed and amazed, the Apaches
turned their gaze, just as the rescuing party
dashed around the point.

Yells of alarm and dismay broke from their
lips, as they, with one accord, sprung toward
their ponies. But death was even faster. The
revolvers of Mustang Sam sent a leaden hail
through the ﬂying mass, and then the Mad Rider
was upon them. Side by side did Comanche
and Tornado force their way through the terror»-
stricken wretches, crushing and mangling limbs
and bodies beneath their sharp hoofs, while the
deftly-handled revolvers dealt death upon either

1do.

“ How-la! make your mark, boys. Imps likn
these killed your comrades—wi e ’em 01f the
face 0’ the airthl” yelled the M Rider, wheel-
ing his horse for a return charge.

‘Hooray for Mustan Sam I” shouted a sten—
torian voice, asa dark gurc recklessly bormded
down the rocks, and plunged into the melee with
ﬂashing knife.

In sheer surprise Mustang reined in Comanche.
The voice was that of Tom McKoun, and Ralph
Weston was even then clambering down from
the rock-ledge, moving with difﬁculty, for one
arrow (Luivered in his shoulder, another deep in
his thig .

A bitter groan burst from Edward Bland‘s
ashy lips as he saw that the ledge was now
empty. lieartsick and faint, he bowsd in his
saddle, his face resting upon his horse’s mane.
Heﬂiu rushed up to Weston, crying in hoarse,
unnatural tones:

“Ella—my child—where is she? Tell me—
quick!”

“Your child? I know nothing of her,” rc-
plied the astonished young man. “ I don t un-
derstand you.”

“ Wasn’t she here—haven’t you been ﬁghting
for her!"

“ I’ve been ﬁghting for my life—I and my
mate yonder—against those accursed Apaches
——nothing more. But here—if you don’t mean
to use that horse, let me have it before the red
devils are all killed!” and almost tearing Heﬂin
from the saddle, Weston mounted, despite the
arrows that still rankled in his wound. and with
a wild yell, dashed away to join in the fight——
or rather massacre.

And massacre it might Well he called, for the
Apaches did not show tight, being bewildered

Mustang Sam. the King of the Plains.

Is

 
and completely cowed by the surprise. They
had made a dash for their onies at Mustang
Sam’s ﬁrst shot, but Comanche overtook them,
and the half-Wild mustangs, frightened by the
uproar and confusion, tossed their heels aloft
and then ﬂed madly over the desert, leaving
their masters in the lurch.

The Apaches are essentially horse Indians.
Afoot they are slow, clumsy and awkward, like
a professional jockey. A man of ordinary speed
can easily distance them. Thus the mounted
emigrants rode them down, slaying them merci-
lessly, urged on in their work ofbblood by the
sight of their dead comrades as the death—bear-
ing horses wheeled to and fro, snorting wildly,
intensely excited. With those ﬁgures in view,
it was not likely that the whites would think of
mercy.

Occasionally an Apache, rendered desperate,
would turn and dischar e an arrow or two, but
seldom did these reach t eir mark.

It was a thrilling yet sickening scene, though
it lasted only a few minutes. Thus it ended
for want of further victims. Of the entire hand
of Apaches but two or three esca ed, those
scrambling up the rocks, unobserved uring the
confusion.

Then, while the party were looking to their
hurts, Mustang Sam questioned his mates. Sub—
stantially, their story was as follows:

With considerable difficulty they had mas-
tered the steel-gray mustang ro ed by Weston
who had then applied saddle an bow-stall, and
mounted to break the horse. In the wild gallo
that followed, he observed a large and fres
trail, evidently made by Indians. As soon as

osmble he returned to where McKoun was.

caring lest Mustang Sam should et into
trouble, they took his trail. Nearing t 6 point
of rocks, they heard the sound of ﬁre-arms, and
believing their fears conﬁrmed, dashed on re
solved to save their mate or share his fate.
Scarcely had they gained the point of rocks,
than a strong bod of Apaches dashed around
it. As their only 0 once, the hunters dismount-
ed and took to the rocks, trusting in their revol-
vers to keep the enemy at bay. Twice they re
pulsed them, once in the evening, the other
late in the night. The third and last one bade
fair to be successful, for they were both
wounded, and their ammunition was growing
low. when the opportune arrival of Mustang
Sam and his party saved them from the threat-
ened fate.

“It was on this ridge that I see’d them folks
that I telled ye of, Bland. Whar’bouts did the
sound of ﬁrinl seem to come from, Tom?"

“ From t’other side the bill, a. good bit over
that way,” pointing to the high, open ground
from which the spur jutted. “It didn’t last
long though. There hain’t been any fun over
tha’r sence yest’day, as I could hear.”

“Then it is as I feared—those devils have
butchered my childl”g'roaned Bland, an unut-
terable depth of despair written upon his
blanched countenance.

“Don’t be a fool, man,” sharp] but with
kind intention spoke Mustang. “ hen thar’s
two trails, al’ays take the best. Try to bl’ieve
that your fri’nds whipped out the red niggers
Jest as we’ve done so often, but are still hidiu’

 
in the rocks, afraid to vontur’ out while the he’-
nets are buzzin’ round so thick. Try it—you’ll
git on a heap better for it.”

“ He says well, neighbor,” said Heﬂin, brave-
ly mastering his emotion. “We will hope for
the best while we may, and then if it should
prove what you fear—then we at least have
vengeance left us.”

“ And we will have it too—will drink deep of
it! She is the last one left inc—the rest are all
gone. If she is gone too, I am alone. I’ll have
only one thing then to live for—413 you say,
vengeancel’ grittcd Blend, a strange change
coming over his face.

“An’ we’ll help on, too, old man,” hastily
added Mustang. “ ’ut this is losin’ time. Let s
be travclin’. Yonder’s whar I sighted the folks.
As they was hossback, I reckon we kin go thar
too.” ‘

The party trotted rapidly along the foot of the
ridge. The rocks in most places rose precipi-
tously for many feet, then broke into long nar-
row lcdgcs, rising one above the other, stair-
like. The designated point was reached, but
the rocky wall still rose smooth and bare. It
soon became evident that the party, wherever
the were, must have gained the ledge from the
hi"r ound beyond.

'I‘Iot ing was left for it but a gallop to that .
point, and the ra idl waning day warned the
party to make alt e speed ossible in case
they hoped to strike the trail efore night de-
scended and put a stop to their labors. Once
there, ﬁnding a number of the ledges, Mustang
Sam placed all the horses 11 on one, in charge
of ha f the sound men, whi e the others were
divided along the trail. By the aid of ham,
it would be easy for those above to descend to
the ledges upon which the animals were. And
so they proceeded with the search.

For full an hour the search was without suc-
cess, save that Mustang Sam found unmistakan
ble signs of where horses had passed at no “Very
distant date. But the nature of the sign was
such that he could not tell, with certainty, in
which direction the wanderers had been travel-
ing. .«

Then a signal from the opposite side .of the
ridge reached their ears, telling of some 1m r-
tant discovery. By tough scrambling the bots
man managed to cross the ridge, and gained
the spot where stood Dan Sweatman. _

He stood upon a ledge not quite six feet wide,
where it made an abrupt curve; thus two per- ,
sons could occupy the same level, within a,
dozen yards of each other, yet be hidden from
View. At this point beyond a doubt had taken
place the ﬁght that had alarmed the two hun-
ters, for the rocks around. as well as the, ledge,
were plentifully sprinkled and beaneared With
blood.

“ I found these here.” muttered Sweatman.
showing several metallic cartridge shells, still
black with burnt powder.

“ Captain Day usod them,” observed one of ,
the emigrants.

“ There’s somethin’ layin’ down yonder in a
hole,” suddenly uttcrcd one of the men. “I
kin see a bit 0’ black hair."

.Heﬂin sprung forward with a half-stifled cry.
His Ella. was a brunette. Only for the resin-ain-

 
14s

Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains.

 
ing hand of Mustang, he would have leaped
from the ledge, at the risk of breaking his limbs.

“ Wait—I’ll go down and see what it is. Boys,
a rope here."

'Mustano‘ Sam swung lightly down over the
ledge by the lasso. The next moment he gave a
glad cry, that thrilled the hearts of all.

“ It’s only a red-skin, boys—‘live at that!
You ull him up an’ mobbc we kin squeeze
sexual; in’ out 0’ him.”

The savage—~scemiugly dead—was soon hauled
u to the ledge, followed by Mustang Sam. A
g astl . hole could be seen upon his breast,
thong nearly closed by congealed blood.

Mustang Sam questioned him in Spanish, but
the savage made no reply. A ﬂask of whisky

, was laced to his lips, and after a brief hesita—

tion, 9 drank cage ly. Then Mustang repeated

“his uestions, who were the parties engaged in

. water,

, muttered MeKoun, disgustedly.

rS irit may

the ght; how it ended; why he was left behind,
alone.

“ If you tell us this, you shall have more ﬁre-
and shall sin}!r your death-song in peace.
I: you refuse, I wilf shave oil? your scalp-lock
and paint our cheeks black, that the Great
now another squaw has come to
13. r for the true braves. I will do this, for I
am a man, and do not speak lies.”

“ Give me some more ﬁre-water now, to make
me stronger, and I will tell you all I know,” re-

. - plied the Apache, after a pause.

_ “It’s a shame to waste sech good licker on a
red nigger; but of you say so, here’s some,”
“He’ll only

' r stuff on with a lot 0’ durned lies to pay for ’t.”

l

“‘ 8 may . but we won’t be no worse 011' then
than we are now.”
, The Apache seemed greatly revived by the
strong liquor, though it was evident to all that

 \his race was well-nigh run. He spoke slowly as
:though in pain, keeping his eyes riveted upon

Mustang Sam’s countenance.

He said that he was one of the party that ﬁrst
encountered Mustang Sam riding Tornado.
They discovered the trail of the wagon-train,
and shortly after, a small trail, made by four
horses. A dozen warriors followed this. It led

l‘them to the high and broken ground. They

caught sight of the object of their search, try-
ing to regain the level. A chase ensued, and

/the whites were cut off from the hills beyond,

' and forced back along the spur, it being impos-

‘ ga. ing savage.

{A Apaches.

sible for them to descend the series of igantic
ate . They made a stand, and fought ravely

 ' -—t 9 two men did, fOr the others were women.
They killed three or four braves, but the two

pale-faced warriors were killed. Just as they
all, lie—the Apache—fell from loss of blood,
rolling over the ledge, unobserved by his com<
es. That was all he could tell. For the
most part since, he had been insensible.
“If the white braves were killed, where are
their bodies?” asked Mustang, keenly eying the

“ ey were brave men and fought like

My brothers Will take them home

and burn them at the stake, that the boy braves
may learn how to die.”

“And the women—what will become .of them?

Burn. 1500’!7
A ‘fNO; the chief will see them, and take them

 
into his lodge, that they may keep his ﬁre
bright, and be the mothers of chiefs.”

“Who is your chief?” hastily asked Mustang
fearful lest either of the bereaved parents should
understand this speech.

“He is Blanco,” and the savage spoke in a
tone of der reverence; then as if fainting, he
added —“ more ﬁre-water E”

Mustang Sam bent over him and raised the
ﬂask to his lips, but the next moment lea ed
back with a little cry. He had felt the ban of
the Apache touch his side.

A faint yell broke tho air. It was the war—
cry of the Apache. A bright blade ﬂashed in
the rays of the setting sun. It sunk to the very
hilt in the Indian’s heart, driven b his own
hand. And with a look of triump upon his
grim features, he fell back, dead.

According to his belief he had insured his own
entrance into the spirit-land us a brave; he had
died with his scalp undefiled.

“ All that whisky gone for nothin’ !” growled
Sweatman.

“I don’t think so,” quietly responded Mus‘
tang. “ I believe our fri’nds whipped the Apaches
an’ tuck to the hills to hide ontel it was safe to
ventur’ out. I’ll tell ye why. You all see that
that imp hated us like p’ison, true to his color.
Then would he ’a’ put us on the right trail,
givin" us a chance to git back the wimmin? Not
muchl E! they had bin tuck, he’d ’a’ swore
they got cl’ar away among the hills. an’ so sent
us on a wild-goose chase. Then them ca’tridge
shells. D’ you s’pose the Injuns knowed enough
to unload such a shooter? It was unloaded, as
you see. I b’lievo this soldier feller did it him-
self, a’ter whippin’ the Apaches. Then they rid
on an’ tuck to the hills yonder. An’ thar’s whar
we’ve got to look for ’om.”

“ Then you think there is still hope?” faltered
Edward Bland.

“ I do—an’ shall think so ontel I see tha’r dead
karkidges.”

Thus cheering the hearts of the fathers, Mus-
tang led the' way back along the ledge. until
they could be joined by the animals. But by
that time, the sun had disappeared and darkness
was upon them. Sick at heart, Bland and Heﬂin
were forced to admit the folly of attempting
any further search that night, and descending
the rocks, the party sought a. place of rest
for the time being.

CHAPTER V.
CURIOSITY—SEEKERS IN TROUBLE.

A JOYOUS party was the quartette as they
rode away from the wagon-train in the early
dawn, laughing, chatting, speculating upon the
marvels that awaited their research amidst
yonder wild, picturesque hills and canyons.
Even the digniﬁed oﬂlcer thawed out and join-
ed in the playful badinage, his large black mus-
tache bristling with fun, his black eyes twink—
ling merrily whenever they were not talking
love’s silent language unto the fair Edith.

Fair, Edith Bland assuredly was; more, she
was a beautiful woman. A little above the
medium hight of women, she was slender and
lithe, with a peculiar willowy grace in every
movement, the erfection of delicate symme-
try. Her hair, uxuriant and Waving, was a.

rich golden brown. Her complexion was one
of dazzling ('leni‘ncss and purity, upon which
the desert winds and heat made no impression;
a pure, healthy pink and white. Largo lus-
trous eyes, softly shining, of a deep, melting
blue. A purely oval taco, with features of
classic regularity. But there was none of the
cold hautcur that is its usual concomitant.
Hers was a nature formed to love and to be
loved in return. And nature had taken its
course here. The gallant soldier hull wooed and
won her heart of hearts. _

Ella Heﬂin was a brunette' a saucy, inde-
pendent, fun-loving little witch, charming and
erratic as a humming—bird, an errant coquette,
who kept, among others, Aithur Hamilton u -
on the sharp thorns of suspense, one moment in
a heaven of delight, the next plunged into the
op osite extreme. And so it was during this
1‘1 6 to the hills.

As they neared the high and broken ground,
the attention of all was turned toward the
wild and impressive scenery. Before them
loomed the walls of one of those remarkable
monuments of b gone ages, a. temple of the
sun, a palace of ontezunia; at least so they be-
lieved.

A wall, ﬁfty feet in hinht, by nearly thrice
that in length. crowned the summit of a high
ridge. Irregular openings showed along the
line, like broken windows and shattered por-
tals. As far as the eye could reach, until hid-
den behind a jutting scrug, a regular low wall
stretched, like a rampart, its top ragged and
uneven, as though some of the rocks of which
it had been formed had been thrown down by
a conquering enemy, or the wasting hand of
time. This, taken in conjunction with the
grand and weird scenery around, was enough
to interest even the lovers, and to divide their
attentions.

It was not until the had entered the tract
of rock-land, that the eccption was discovered,
and the case. grandc of the Montezumas found
to be only the work of fantastic nature, instead
of human art. Sandstone and marl, tra and
lignite predominated. The softer niaterin had
gradually worn away, leaving the harder por-
tion in bold relief, forming fantastic burlesques
upon many a familiar object. The slopes were
dotted with buttes or mews of mingled sand—
stones and slate wrought into whimsical sha s.
Thus, though greatly disappointed in tin ing
this ruined palace of the Sun-worshi pars noth-
ing more than a natural mass of rec-l3. the little
party found no little delight and pleasure in
wandering among these freaks of nature.

“ Look yonder—there’s a gigantic church—
belll" cried Edith.

“Yes, and there’s a bot‘le of Holland gin,”
added matter-of-fact Arthur Hamilton.

“You ought to be obliged to drink it, for
such a vulgar idea!” retorted Ella. “Couldn’t

on have called it a bottle of sherry, with the
ead snap d 011’?”

“Then ow do you like Lot’s wife, over
yonder?”

“ They didn’t wear crinolines, in those days,
stupid!”

And thus the little party of curiosity-seekers

Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains.

 
advanced further into the wild region, led on V

15

by still UlllCl‘ and different objects of nature's
handiwork, unheeding the lapse of time or pay-
ing much attention to their course.

At length, reluctantly they turned to retrace
their steps. For in the distance shone the hat-
tcl'cd and broken walls and ram )arts 01'
Nature’s Cams Gramh’s. It seemed t a same
we they had sighted in m the desert, and {cs
ward it the party advanced. But the way grew
more and more rugged. At times the were
forced to make wide dctours, to avoi some
precipitous descent or rise, or to go around some
deep yawning ab 'ss. It was strange that these
had not been noticed as they came along. th
none of the party suspected the truth—that they
were straying far from the right course. Guid-
ed by the sun, they thought there could be no
mistake, but more time had been spent in the 9:.
ploratii n than they dreamed of, and thus their
calculations (‘1’)‘0d.

Suddenly they came upon the edge of a. can II
by far deeper and wider than any they ad
heretofore seen. Crossing at this point was in:-
possible, and yet, as far as the eye could reach in
either direction, the chasm extended; that is
until hidden from view by an uprising monstros-
ity of nature’s handiwork. I

For fully an hour they rode alon the edge of
tho canyon. never losing sight 0 it for more
than a few moments at a time, as it became ne-
«US$13! to avoid unsurinomitable obstacles.
For a short distance it run straight and true as
the ﬂight of an arrow, but then it began to turn
and twist in a. zigzag and tortuous manner.
’l‘hen, though taking a great many steps, tho'
quartette made but little actual-progress.

Day was growing more and more uneasy, at
the swift la >59 of time, though he sought to con-
ceal this fee ing as much as possible. The can-
yon grew deeper and deeper, though less wide,
until at one point, it was scarcely tWelve feet
across at the top, though wider beneath where
the long-vanished water had eaten away the
softer sandstone. This narrow place. however,
did not lost beyond a few hundred yards. Then
as the canyon made an abrupt curve. itwidened
again. The quartette were now in‘ the toe of a
gigantic horse-shoe, and as he realized this, Tom
Day abruptly mined in his horse.

“ We must manage to cross it somehow. We
might wander on for hours without ﬁnding our
way out of this labyrinth.”

“ I don’t see how we can,” replied Ella, a little
nervously.

“ If you ladies would trust me-" hesitated

Dav.

“ We will. Tell us what to do and ifpossible
We will obey,” quietly replied Edith, With im-
plicit conﬁdence in her lover.

“ Back to that narrow place then,” cried the
ofﬁcer.

When there, he touched his horse with the
spur, and headed him at the crev1ce. Rising
into the air, the animal crossed 1t like a bird,
alighting safely upon the other side. 3,
Day leaped back again.

" There-you see there is no danger. A child
could lea it Without any trouble. It only re-
quires a little faith and conﬁdence. Edith,da.ro
you try it?” ' ,

“You go ﬁrst, and I will follow,” was thg

‘ .

 
13 Mustang Sam, the

low, quick reply, thou h her cheeks were snowy

', White, as her aze inst ctively wandered down,
the dizzy dept , when a sing or a mistake might
plun e her—to instant deat .

“ here—— on see—”

Lea ingt e chasm, Tom turned his head to
cheer dith when he saw her alight safely be-

. hind him. She had taken the leap at almost the
same moment.

“I can‘t do it—I should faint and tumble
down that ugly black hole,” whimpered Ella,
entirely subdued.

“ Then I’ll have to take you over—clear the
way, there i” a

In an emergency Hamilton could act as prompt
and decisive as any one. Deftly, yet tenderly,
be grasped Ella round the waist and lifted her
from the saddle, holding her ti ht to his breast.
Then, before she comprehend his pur so, he
spurred his animal on to the leap. hough
doubly burdened, the noble creature did not be-
lie its master’s conﬁdence, and accomplished the

. feat in safety.

“ There—if I have offended you, forgive me.
I could see no other way,” muttered Arthur, as
they turned to call the other horse.

' ,‘Ella quick] turned her head, and as Arthur
bent his at t e same moment, it chanced that
their lips came in contact. Bashful though he
was Arthur did ust what any other man
would. As they fe t the contact, his lips clung
there for a moment; and in that moment,
that indeﬂnable, delicious nothing, a kiss, was

orn.

Probably Ella was too badly frightened to
notice this, for she said nothing. Certainly
Arthur was too badly frightened by his own
temerity to say aught. Day was busy coaxing
the horse to fo low its companion, and if Edith
noticed the catastrophe, she was considerate
enough to look unconscious, and turn aside her

head.

. The horse crossed, and Ella regained her own
saddle; then the party proceeded in higher
spirits, thinking that the worst of the 'ourney
was over. Little cﬂd they dream of w at the
future had in store for them!

A few moments later, from the top of the
hi h rid e, they caught sight of the o n ground
be ore t em, and far away in the istance, so
, as to be barely visible, in fact, were the white

tilted wa ons.

“Than God for that! I began tofear we
were lost in this dismal placa,” fervently utter-
ed Edith.

The edge otthe rock-tract was neared. A

v long spur or ridge shot out into the desert. To-
ward the base of this they rode as the route
, Seemed easiest. Suddenly Tom Day rained in
and turned his head with a cry of alarm.
“ Indians I”
. ~ U n the desert below them, slowly advanc-
, ing ward the 5 ur, was a large body of horse-
men. The lon ances, the uniform dusky color,
could not be m staken. They were Indians.
“Stoo low—they have not seen us yet,” the
soldier urriedlv muttered. “In a moment
they will be hidden behind the ridge. Now-—
tolow me. We must reach some spot where

.we can hide, or as they pass by the point they

will discover us. "

King of the Plains.

 
' rock-hills and were on foot.

“There come some more from the other di-
rection,” quietly added Hamilton, pointing back
to a cloud of dust.

“It’s our only chance—hasten!” reiterated
Day leading on.

‘ i‘l’o—it’s a white man—I saw the sun shining
on a black mustache!” cried keen-eyed Ella, af-
ter a few moments.

“ God help him, then! He is rushing headlong
upon his death!”

“ Can’t we warn him?” asked Edith, her cheek
blanching.

“ Not without betraying our own presence to
those ﬁends—and then we, too, would share that
poor fellow’s fate.”

Edith tore the shawl from her shoulders and
waved it rapidly. Seemingly the horseman did
not notice it, for he did not sta his pro ress.
As the reader knows, this Mad ider was Ins-
tang Sam, upon Tornado.

The quartette heard all that followed, though
they could see nothing. The spur of rocks con-
cealed the who from their View. Still, they
dloubted not that the unfortunate horseman was
5 am.

To their surprise, the tumult, the thud of
hoofs upon the sand gradually died away
though the sava cs di not appear in sight round
the spur. Tom ay clambered over the rocks
to reconnoii’er. To his surprise, he saw the In-
dians far away, in hot haste after the horseman.

Hastin returning to his companions, Day led
them on, believing that his only chance con-
sisted in reaching the level, and then, by skirt-
ing the rocks, reach the wagon-train by a detour
wide enough to insure passing the Indians un-
seen, should they return to look after their fallen.
And then the train must be warned, for they
had believed the vicinity to be free of Indians.

But this pro amme was speedily frustrated.
Scarcel had t ey crossed the ridge, when a
wild ye l of triumph broke upon their hearing,
and a number of savages were seen bounding
rapidly toward them. They came from the
Still, long before
the le-faces could descend to the level, they
won 6. be upon them. And this Day readily
realized.

“ We’ll have to ﬁght them, Arthur,” he said,
sternly, looking to his carbine and pistols. “ Fol-
low me close, to yonder ledge. Once upon that.
these devils can’t touch the ladies only as they
pass over our bodies. Courage, Edith—we can
easil dispose of those yelping vagabonds.”

“ can’t see more than adozen, and they have
only bows and arrows. If it were only us two,
I’d ask no better fun than to teach these dogs a
lesson. But make haste—they’re coming up fast.”

Reaching the ledge, Day made Edith and
Ella ride on in advance, while he and Arthur
threafend the Apaches with their riﬂes. But
it was plain that matters must soon come to a
crisis. Conﬁdent in their superiority of num-
bers, the Apaches rushed boldly up, delivering
their arrows as they came.

" The girls are safe ’round the bend now.
S’pose we have the matter out here, where they
can not get hurt?” said Tom. “ They can only
advance u n us by this one ledge. Once
around tha point, we can pick them of! as fast
as they can come up.”

Mustang Sam. the King of the Plains.

1"

 
“Right—I forgot their cursed arrows,” and
Day winced involuntarily as a barbed shaft
grazed his throat.

Dashing. round the oint, they c'kuickly dis-
mounted aud raised t air riﬂes. ‘heir well-
traiucd horses, both used to ﬁre, stood firm.

As though expecting the pale-faces would
continue their ﬂight as long as the led '0 ex—
teinlcd, the A inches came rushing on in a ody.
As They rounded the curve, two rifle-shots star-
tled them. Discharged at scarce tcn yards’ dis-
tancc, the result could not but be fatal. And
then, steady as though target-tiring, the two
men emptied their weapons into the thick-
crowded mass; Tom Day his repeating riﬂe, and
Hamilton falling back u on his revolvers.

The skirmish was brief, ending almost as
soon as begun. Taken by surprise, the Apaches
did not know what to make of men who did not
have to reload their Weapons.

A dozen shots were ﬁred in as many seconds.
The lodge was blocked up with the dead and
dying. With yells of dismay the three survi-
vors turned and ﬂed. One of them fell by Day’s
hand; the others soon reached the plain, run—
ning rapidly along the trail of the main party.

One of the fallen Apaches has given an ac-
count of the aﬁ’air, at as Mustang Sam
shrewdly suspected, it was garbled.

The attacking party did not belong to those
who had attacked the train afterward. They
had struck the trail as stated, had followed it
up to the hills. There they lost it, and when
drawn to the desert by the sound of ﬁrearms,
for the ﬁrst time set eyes upon their prey. But
the attack had not succeeded; on the contrary,
the whites proved the victors.

“No—we’re all right,” cried Day, as Edith
and Ella rode up. “ We didn’t give ’em time to
use their arrows. But come—wArthur. help me
pitch this carrion over the ledge.~_ There’s no
time to lose. Those rascals will soon have the
whole troop upon our heels, if we burn davli ht.
But if we can gain the train ﬂrst—whic I
think can he done by hard riding—we’re all
right.”

The lodge cleared of the dead Apaches, the
snorting animals were led past; then mounting,
the party rode rapidly along the ledge, looking
for a place by which they might descend to the
plain below. But before this was found, Edith
cried, in a tone of terror, pointing toward the

desert:
“ My God! Look yonder!“
CHAPTER VI.

“ mane."
followed the direction of her

 
THE eyes of all
outstretched arm. . _ I
Far away, scarcely discernible, in fact, the
white titled wagons remained stationary, as
though awaiting their swift-approaching doom.
Mustang Sam could no longer be distinguished,
but the dust-cloud that enveloped the mass of
Apaches in ursuit still hovered over the desert,
lainly mar ing their pos1tion. Still nearer the
hills was a second dust-cloud; and between this
and the quartette were the two ﬂeeing Apache
braves.
It was the second dust-cloud that drew the
exclamation of horror and despair from the

 
blanched lips of Edith Bland. As she gazed
anxiously out upon the prairie, the thin Vail
lifted, and she could quite distinctly discern the
form of both horses and riders. It took but a
moment to read the truth: the savages were rid-
ing rapidly toward the hills.

“Curse the luck! the devils arc (-omin r back!”
grittcd T011] Day, his largo black eyes g istening
like live coals. “They must have the eyes of
buzzards, to see us so far against these we KS.”
“I don’t believe they have seen us yet,” said
Arthur. “But they will soon know all about
this little allair. See! these. two varmints are
returning direct to meet them. They will tell
all, and then—well, you can gu .vs tho rest.”

"‘ Our horses are fast—can’t we reach tho
level, and then run away from tho Ind ans?”
hesitated Edith. ~

“ No. It would take as full ﬁfteen minutes to
get down these cursed rocks. Before that tho
savages will have met, and then they’d s read
out and cut us oil’, and so force us to ﬁg t or
take to the hills again. There is only one thing
left us that I see,” gloomin rcspondcd Day.

“And that is to die?” inurinnrcd Edith, lean-
ing nearer her lover’s strong form. “Though
life has been very leasant and sweet to me,
promise me this, t at you will not leave me,
even in death—if the worst must come, that you
will not die and leave me alive in the power of
those ﬁends!“ and the maiden shuddercd con-
vulsivcly.

“I will kill you with my own hand rather
than that,” he glocmily mace answer. “Better
death than the fate that would be yours in their

wer. '

“I know—I have heard—and thank you for
the promise; only tell me a moment before-—
that I may die With your face last in my eyes,”

“All this is very pretty talk, of course, but
my motto is sound sense before heroics. Are we
to sit idly here until those gentlemen in red
come up and relieve us of our suspense and
scalps at the same time?” a little impatiently ii:—
terru ted Hamilton.

“ ‘ 'hat can u e do?—ou§ retreat is cut off.”

“ In one direction—yes. But here are the hills
behind us. There are thousands of hiding-
places. Among them all, surely we can lie con-
cealed until night, and then in the darkness, ’
perhaps we can manage to give the heathen the
slip, cfter all, and gain the desert. Once there,
Ithink we can manage to rejoin our friends
before daylight.”

“ You are right. I was a fool to give way so
soon; but you know, she is in danger, and -—”

“I believe I can understand your feelin 5,
Tom,” softly whispered Austin, with a swift
glance toward the now quite subdued Ella
Heﬂin. ,

“A black ending to our ploasure-ridel But
one thing~those devils shall not have much to
boast of. If they push us too hard, there will ‘
be more than one Apache lodge-ﬁre extinguish-
ed forever!”

During these hastily exchanged words, the
two men were not idle. Every moment was of
value now. Each buckle and strap of their
horses uipa was completely looked to and
tested. he ailin of any one of these when the
trial came might death—or worse.

 
 ~‘ said Day.

  
18 Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains.

 
“Camel” cried Day leaping into the saddle.
“ Now for the hills and rocks behind us!”

“ Wouldn’t it be better to keep on, right
ahead? We will be close to the open then, and
our friends are out there,” suggested Hamilton.

“ We don’t know the ground in that direction.
Over this way we do—at least partially. I be-
have by crossin the canyon again, we can
throw those deVils off the scent. Then, while
they are making for us, we can pick on - way to
the level around the point of rocks, and then
ride after our friends. Though a roundabout
course I believe that it is the safest one left us,”
argued Day, and Arthur was silent, if not con-
vineed.

But, though so plain and simple in speech, this
plan was found a difﬁcult one to put into execu-
tion. The hard rocks had retained little or no
trace of their passage a few hours before, and

/ more than once Tom Day checked his horse gaz-
ing around with a bewildered air. In their haste
to reach the open ground once more, the curios-
ity-seekers had taken little or no notice of the
winding trail. Here and there, upon every hand
lay curious landmarks in the fantastic and gro-
tesque mass of rocks, the same or strangely Simi-
lar to those the curiosity—seekeis had inspected.
but time and again, as he hastened forward

‘with a cry of joy, Day found out his mistake,

, as some awning chasm or frowning wall shut
oi! furt or progress, forcing them to retrace
their steps to seek another assage.

“I behave this is the rig t trail at last—sec!
is not that where a beef has slipped upon that
soft rock? If we are deceived ere, may God
have mercy upon us all!”

With these words, Tom Day urged his ani-
mal on, and a few minutes more brought him
upon the edge of the canyon, at the point where
they had crossed it that day. Though without
ﬁndin audible utterance, the hearts of each
one o the little arty breathed a prayer
of‘ thanksgiving or thus being guided

an ht.
,‘ Ags before, Tom Day led the way, and this
time neither Edith nor Ella showed any timid-
ity about following.

“Make haste—around this curve,” earnestly
“They may come up at any mo-
ment, and it they set eyes on us now. nothing

’ , 4 remains but a stern ﬁght till death. Once hid-

" den, they may not ﬁnd the crossing, and then
we will be comparatively safe.”

“ We could make a good stand here,” quietly
said Hamilton. “From behind yonder pile of
' rocks, we could command the leap, and keep it

clear of red-skins as long as our weapons hold

out-until they were empty, I mean.”

' “ But you will not—l”

“No, darling—not unless we are forced to

- it,” soothi y replied Day. “For your sake

’ we will be oubly cautious. Would to God that
you were once more safe with the train.”

“ But it may be in danger, too. Think what

‘a large force of those hostile Indians are now

riding almost direct for the wagons. What if

_ 3 they should attack it, and—”

(“Then—let us Hope for the best, while we
. But look, Arthur! Isn’t this the place
we passed before—this valley? Surely yonder

‘ {stands your bottle of gin?”

 
“ It looks like the same—but I can’t tell. I’m
all mixed up.”

For some minutes more they rode on, eagerly
looking for some covert in which they might
hope to lie concealed until the shades of night
favored their escape. Then, with one accord the
party halted, interchanging glances of wonder—
ing alarm.

The sharp report of lire-arms came to their
cars, mingled with shrill yells, that could only
proceed from savage throats. And these sounds
came from directly in front, apparently at no
great distance from the little party.

“The Indians have attacked somebody; but
who i)”

“ A conundrum—J give it up,” muttered
Hamilton.

“Our friends—they have missed us, and
have come to hunt us upl” eagerly exclaimed
Edith.

“No—that can scarely be. They would not
desert the train, and a small force would have
been picked up by those red-skins we saw chas-
ing that single horseman.”

“ But if it should?” gasped Ella. “And we
standing idle here, while they are being inur—
dercdl"

“I fear we will not be idle long then!” and
Day wronched both his own and the horse
ridden by Edith around. “To cover—quick!
Those are Indians ahead of us in the valley!
Quick—or we are lost!”

“ Take it coolly, Day. The harm is already
done. Hear them yelp! The devils have sight-
ed us!”

Half a mile or more down the valley, several
dark forms could be distinguished among the
grayish rocks and fantastic ﬁ ures, and now
their yells came quite distinct y to the ears of
the fugitives. The cries were long-drawn and
peculiar. Day clinched his teeth and con-
tracted his brows, as he divined the truth.
They were signaling their more distant coni-
rades, to tell them the game was afoot.

“ If this is the valley we ﬁrst entered, those
rascals must be upon the same side of the can-
yon that we are. If so, we can cross over and
hold them at bay there, until nightfall,” sug-
gested Hamilton.

“They are afoot—can’t we run away from
them? Our horses are not very tired," said
Edith. .

“Over these rocks a footman is fully if not
more than equal to a horse. And yet we can’t
desert them, for once upon the level, beyond,
by their aid alone could wa ever regain the
wagons. Come, then, we will go back. At
least we will place the canyon between us and
them; after that we can decide upon our future
course.”

“Not straight back—make, a detour, and
those imps may be bafﬂed after all. The canyon
is too wide above this, for them to leap it. Per-
haps they’ll believe we are still on this side,
creeping away among the rocks.”

“You’re right, Arthur,” said Day, acting
Epitaph the suggestion, leading the way with

l; .
The savage yells sounded still nearer, as the
uartette leaped the canyon, and trusting that
t e detour would throw the Indians off their

Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains.

19

 
trail, Day decided to press on without delay and
endeavor to reach the desert, runnng tho I‘ltk
of meeting enemies in their front. If risky, it
seemed the best course lei t them.

But the fates seemed conspiring against them.
Scareer had they wound throuin the rocks
half a. mile, at'ter leaping the canyon, thnn
Edith’s horse, a high-spirited mustang, tossed
its head aloft and uttered a shrill neigh. Like
an echo came an answering whicher from behind
a distant mint of rocks, and the next moment
a mountm 5"1'1'112‘0 bounded out into full View.
It was an A? ar'he warrior, in all the glory of
his national dress.

The savage yelled loudly, as he brandished his
spear, devilish exultation imprinted upon every
feature of his coarse, repulsive face. AnsWer-
ing yells came from beyond the mass of rocks,
from the higher ground to the left, and from
beyond the canyon. Only one route seemed
open to the fugitives: and that led them still
deeper into the labyrinthine recesses of that
gloomy, awe-inspiring region of nature‘s Weird,
most fantastic mood.

“At least one devil shall not live to cxult
over us!” gritted Day, his riﬂe-muzzle rising.

A sharp report, then the mustang leaped
snorting away, riderless. The Apache brave
lay u n the rocks, a tiny stream of blood
(tinc‘lidmg from beneath the painted helmet,

on .

“ Lead the way, Tom—no more fooling,”
steme cried Arthur Hamilton as Day recocked
his riﬂe a deadly glow ﬁlling his eyes—tho ar-
dor of battle upon him—the thirst for blood
tingling in every vein and tearing at his heart.
“ Remember who is depending upon us.”

Thus reminded, Day grasped the rein of
Edith’s horse and trotted rapidly along in the
only direction that seemed left free for their
passa e. After them came Arthur and Ella,
close ehind each other. And now on in full
view yel d a score of Apaches, urging on their
half-wil ponies at reckless, breakneck speed.

It was a. wild, terrible race. The horses
stumbled over loose stones, leaped across jag red
bowlders, squeezed through narrow passages
where the trail was scarce broad enough to ac-
commodate a single footman, leaped across
deep pits and yawning chasms, more than once
narrowly escaping a fall that could only be
death to both orse and rider; at times they
trotted along a narrow trail where, upon one
side rose a high and precipitous wall or cliil’,
n n the other yawned an almost bottomless
a yss or canyon. Yet the animals seemed to
have caught the infection from their riders,
forgetting all fear, only striving the one to dis-
tance its pursuer, the other to overtake the
fu itivcs.

t was a race that words are powerless to
describe. Black death hovered over both fugi.
tives and pursuers, his icy-cold hand seeming
with each moment abou to close upon their
lives: yet that moment passed and another one
came, scarcely less perilous—and still the race
continued, madly, recklessly,_yet unattended
as iet with the seemingly inevitable catas—

tro e. '
Bliit the end was near at hand. The fugitives
were entering what seemed a pass between two

 
'l‘-'1w't‘.‘l of rock. The trail r'rew narrower
, e dinicult, affording barely room for
one horse to pass at a time.

Tom Day led the way. Then came Edith;
after her Ella, with Arthur Hamilton bringin
up the rear. For nearly half a. mile the in i-
tives trotted as rapidly as possible along 0
perilous trail. Then a cry of joy broke from
Day’s lips, and his horse wheeled abruptly to
the right, a few moments later einerging into a
broad and comparatively low] basin, surround-
ed upon all sides by high, frowning hills.

The bright light di d from his eyes. A stern
despair settled in its stead. He saw that fur-
ther tlight would be in vain. The huge masses
of gray rock around barred the way. He had
run blindly into a trap. Nothing remained for
it but to tight; and the enemy were at least ten
to one!

"Unto the mesa, yonder—if we can gain its
top, we can sieken these devils before we go
under!” he cried, boldly.

llut no voice answered him, though Edith’s
horse sprung even with his own. Quickly turn-
ing his head, he glanced back. A (‘r of horror
broke from his lips. He and Edit alone oc-
clupied the valley! Where were Ella and Ar-
t lur?

As it in answer, the Apaches burst out from
the pass, yellingr liko ﬁends as they discovered
the two fugitives. The peril that threatened
Edith recalled Day to his senses, and he urged
the horses around, just us a volley of arrows tell
at their feet. The Apaches were ﬁring low.
Day uttered a furious curse us he saw this. He
knew what it meant. They wished to cripple
tlio animals, so they could take the fugitives
a we.

A few yards further, Edith‘s horse stumbled
and fell, but the quick eye and ready arm of her
lover saved her from harm. His arm was
around her waist and a single motion lifted her
to the pommel of his saddle.

His own horse uttered a snort of pain, and
plunged heavily on. An arrow quivered deep
in his hind leg. Another strikes him, but he has
done his dut . Ho reels and falls at the foot of
the s mire. b ock of stone; the mesa.

“ I ave courage and I will save you, darlin ‘l”
breathrd the soldier, as ho alight/3d upon is
feet. “Cling tightly round my waist, and never
fear."

His hands thus free, with strength and skill
lent by the desperate nature of the case, and his
intense love for the maiden “hose more than
life depended solely upon his exertions, Day
seized the 'agged points of rocks and dragged
himself and precious burden up the ahnost pre-
ci itous side of the mesa. . '

tor a. moment the Apaches stared in mute
wonder at such an Herculean feat; but then the
fear that their anticipated victims would after
all bafﬂe thorn, changed this sentiment to deadly
rage, and the arrows began to rattle Victously
against the rock.

" Clutch the vine and drag yourself tip—now,
your feet upon my shoulder—spring, for your
life! Thank God!”

The last words broke from his lips with a gasp
as Edith sprung upon the mesa top, and the
next moment he was beside her. .

 
\

20

Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains.

 
CHAPTER VII.
THE swarm or nonnnrs.

A STERN, impressive quietness settled over
the emigrants remaining at the wagon-train, as
their comrades rode boldly out to search for the
wanderers, in the ver face of an overwhelming
force of Apaches. eaning upon their riﬂes,
they watched the horsemen rapidly ride over
the sandy waste, in gloomy silence. Then, as
naught but a dust-cloud remained, Jack Wilson
3 o e:

“ e’d better kiver up what’s left of the boys
now. This sun won’t improve ’em any, I don’t
reckon.”

“ We’ll have to drag the red varmints off a
ways, too. They’d soon stink us out, of we
don’t.” '

“ Let that be now. Mebbe we won’t need the
trouble. When we git through ’th this job, I’ve
got somethin‘ to say. Come, turn out the tools

an’ let’s git to work.”

Stronrr hands made quick work of the task,

and theIoose sand ﬂew aside in showers, as the

wide grave deepened. And then the sevon stiff,

. lifeless forms were gently carried out from the

' ’outa single ’licrious man in its outﬁt.

‘ man, for they could understand it.

' out now, let alone the’Patchies.

corral and lowered into the sandy pit, side by
side. Then came a brief pause, and covert
glances ran around the circle of bareheaded
men. The same thought occurred to all. It

’ seemed hard to hide those true and faithful

comrades forever from human sight, without a
word of prayer; yet not one among the survi-
vors felt competent to utter those words.

Then Jack Wilson stepped forward, speaking
in a low tone:

“ Gentlemen, I don’t see as that’s much use in
waitin’. Idon’t reckon this ’ere gang kg prliln

4 E t 3
boss was here, I reckon he could say a few gos-
pel words, but as it is, the boys ’11 have to go
without much prayin’. But that won’t make no
diﬂerence. They went under a-doin’ of thar
duty. They ﬁt like white men, an’ I reckon the
most of ’em saved thar meat afore they passed
in thar checks. I don’t know as I kin say any-
thin’ better ’n that. They was white men,
plum through. So I say—may the Lord have
mercy on thar souls i”

It was a unique funeral sermon, but one that
came from the depths of a rude, unlettered
heart, and one that touched those rough, fron-
tierobred men far more deeply than would have
the most polished elfort of an educated clergy-
Then the
sand was shoveled in and ﬁrmly trampled down,
the surplus being cast far and‘wide, that the
Apaches might not scent out the lace and dese‘
crate it for he sake of the scalps ving there.

,“Thar—a starvin’ coyote couldn’t smell ’em
A'n’ now tobiz-
ness. 'Boys, be we goin’ to stay here ontel the
critters starve to death? Look at ’em—chawin’
up the sand to git at the roots 0’ the grass that
was sca’cely a mouthful around. How long ’11
they last at this? Then when they git too weak
to pull the wagons, what‘s to become 0’ us? That‘s
what I want to know,” somewhat doggedly said
Jack Wilson.

“ The boss is one—when he comes back we kin
go on,” venture one of the party.

“Jess so; but s’posin’ he don’t come back; how

 
then? Look here, boys, thar’s some older men
among ye than I be, but I don’t reckon thar’s
any as knows more ’bout the ’Patchies than I do,
or who hes traveled more in these parts. I war
one 0’ the fu’st to step for’ard when that feller
axed for volunteers. Though I knowved ri ht
well it was a fool piece 0’ bizness, but he sai it
was for the ladies, an’ that word shets a man’s
mouth, ye see. Jess take a good squar’ look at
the facks; what be they?

“ Thar’s nigh a hundred ’Patchies swarmin’
round here, jest red-hot for ha’r. Twenty men
rides out into the desert. In co’se the ’Patchies
knows 0’ this. What do they do? I kin tell ye
as plain as though I see’d it all with my two
eyes. They’ll surround ’em, and keep swoopin’
around until they pick off the last one o’ the
gang, or else make one big dash an’ jest nat’ally
ride ’em down to the airth. Then what? Why
they’ll come to pick up the t’other half 0’ the
outﬁt, like a hungry painter. the wuss for liavin‘
tasted blood. That’s what they’ll do.”

.“But we beat them off once-we can do it
again.”

“ Then we was more’n double as strong as we
be now. But say that we do beat ’em 011?; how
long Will we be able to do so here? They can
rub us out "ithout ﬁrin’ a shot or burnin’ a grain
0’ powder. The critters ’d soon starve to death;
then whar’d we be? We’re off the main trail.
Even if a train was to pass along, they couldn’t
see or hear us. All the ’Patchies ’d have to do
would be to wait.”

“ What do you propose doing then?” demand-
ed Stevens.

“I know this route well. ’Bout seven miles
over yonder is a river, small, to be sure, but
chuck—full 0’ ﬁsh, an’ thar’s plenty good grass
thar, too. I move le’s tackle up an’ make fer
that,” uietly re lied Wilson.

“ An be attac ed on the road, before we could
But ourselves in condition for ﬁ ht? That would

e a wise move, surely!” sneere Stevens.

“Tain’t likely we’l be bothered to-day. The
’Patchies’ll be busy with the boss’s men. They
know they kin overhaul us, with the ponies, any
time they want to.”

“Admitting that to be true, there is a still
greater obJection. Supposing our friends are
hard pressed by the A aches, as on say is sure
to be the case, and t ey retrea here, only to
ﬁnd that we had‘deserted them, what would
be the result? No, sir, I for one,_will never
consent to such a move. Here I remain until
our friends return. And every true man in the
outﬁt will stand by me in this,” ﬁrmly cried
Stevens.

“Putt the question, an’ ef they say stay, I’m
agreeable. I don’t valie my life no more nor
auv other man,” said Wilson.

The resolve was almost unanimous to remain
at the mesa, at least during that day and night.
Then, unless the party had returned, they could
still tr Wilson’s plan.

“ It’ 1 be too late then; but never mind. I’m
with ye to the eend,” the borderer q ietly re-
plied. “ You’ll ﬁnd out afore long w ich was
right—him or me.”

The hours dragged slowly, wearin enough to
the emigrants as they lountgled about their cor-
ral, guarding the mules as ey grubbed‘ in the

 
l
i
r

 
v

Mustang Sam, the King of the. Plains. 21

 
sand for a few scanty roots of gin-.2. It was a
long, dreary. soul—sickening vigil. but the end
came suddenly.

“The devil is comin’, boys!" yelled lVilson,
who was one of these guarding the mules. “ Look
to the critters, or thar’ll be a stampede!”

Instantly every man sprung into full life and
activity. But 111 this case haste proved the
worst speed. The mules took fright at the
shouts and eager advance of the emigrants, and
plunged here and there, more than one pulling
up his picket-pin, and galloping away over the
sands, raying and whickering oudly.

Already the heavy thud of horses’ hoofs, ad-
vancin at full speed, came to the ears of the
startl emigrants. The Apaches had taken
advantage of the mesa, and by keeping it be-
tween them and the corral, managed to approach
within half a mile before being discovered.
Then, seeing that further creeping would be use-
less, they raised their wur-cry and (lashed on at
headlong speed, hoping to gain the wagons while
the defenders were yet in a state of confusion.

“ Let the cursed critters go to the devil an’ save
yourselves l” shouted Wilson, choosing the lesser
evil of the two. “ Quick—an’ make every shot
count, or we’re one suckers!”

Abandoning t e mules to their fate, the emi-
grants scrambled ovcr the barricade and clutched
their riﬂes and shot— uns, just as the yelling
Apaches swept aroun both ends of the mesa.
Thus, ere a shot was ﬁred, the antagonists were
separated only by a few yards, as the half—wild
ponies dashed up to the wagons.

Then the ﬁre-arms began to speak, and the
arrows to hiss through the wagon covers or in-
terstices, and the long lances to be thrust for—
ward wherever a focman was visible.

The Apaches were the survivors of the desert
ﬁght—0r rather series of ﬁghts—in which Mus-
tang Sam played such a prominent part. De-
feated there, awed by the stern, impenetrable
front ever presented by the emigrants, they
remembered the weakened train, and resolved
to deal a blow there, feeling that thus de rived
of their prime mode of conveyance, the in omit-
able hand must sooner or later fall into their
hands. And in this attack, the Apaches showed,
truly wonderful nerve and insensibility to death.
They seemed madmen, rather than usually pru-
dent warriors. Their ranks thinned rapidly,
yet they paid no attention to this. only pressing
the emigrants the harder, evidently resolved to
capture the train at any cost.

The emigrants. too, fought desperatelv. as
men with halters round their necks. With
them it was truly victory or death. They must
either con uer or die. And knowing this they
fou ht wit sullen, stubborn fury. It was a
due to the death. _

Swiftly their guns were emptied. Then the
revolvers spoke. The foremost Apaches melted
away before that terrible fus1lade as hoar frost
dissolves before the warm breath of the morn.
ing sun. Yet others pr65sed forward to supply
their places, plying bow and arrows, or the long
vicious spear, with fatal dexterity. _

Rushing their animals fairly against the bar-
ricade, the Apaches leaped upon the wagon-
tops, seeking to carry the corral thus. At first
the adventurous braves fell as rapidly as they

 
gained the top, but thcn as the withering fusil-
ado began to slackcn several succeeded in ain-
ing the inside: only to be felled with ri e or
pistol-butts, or the blood-dri ping bowieaknife.

It was a horrible, soul-sic {enin scene—one
that my n is powerless to descrige.

Slowly ut surely the Apaches gained ground,
as the defenders grew less and more feeble.
Two-thirds of their number (lead the remainder
wounded, the emigrants still fou ht stoutly,
desperately. It was now lland-to- and. The
Apaches had gained entrance in numbers that
would not be denied. The pale-faces were
pressed back by mere weight of numbers, until
the face of the mesa )revcntcd further retreat.
And here, their baC's guarded by the rocks,
half adozen men faced two—score of savages,
who were eagerly pressing them to death.

For a full minute the Apaches were held at
bay. Then—one irresistible rush—and the ﬁght
was ended. The last of the heroic band was
down. The wagon-train was captured. And
wild, shrill, triumphant rose the yells of the
savages at this; for the moment they forgot the
fearful loss they had sustained, in the intoxicat-
ing sense of victory.

be red rays of the setting sun shone vividly
over the vast expanse of the desert sands and
rock-hills beyond. But the captured train was
cast in the deep, somber shadow of the mesa.
It seemed as though the sight was too horrible,
too sickening for the sun to look upon.

Then the yells ceased. The living Apaches
forced their way out from the corral, dragging
with them three bodies—or rather captives.
One was Jack Wilson. It was not by his own
will that he was taken alive—that he had not
shared the fate of his brave comrades. He had
fought desperately to the last—until the Apa-
ches ﬂung themselves bodily upon him, and
crushed him helpless to the earth. This was
from no sentiment of mercy. No: the three
white men were doomed to suffer a thousand
deaths in one.

The Apaches quickly plundered the wagon.
strewing the sands for yards around with
plunder, useful and useless; the former was ‘
then pitched into the corral, on top of the scalp-
]ess whites. The three captives were stripped
of their clothing, and then securely bound to
the rear ends of as man wagons. Then, yell-
ing, screeching, brandishing their blood-stained
weapons and gory scalps, the Apaches danced
before them.

A brave clutched each captive by the hair.. A
knife-blade glittercd in the twilight. Agonilzmg
shrieks break the air. The skulls of the prison-
ers drip blood. They are scalplessl

A gain the dusky—skinned demons dance around
in mad glee. But the captives are almost past
noticing them now. '

Then a torch ﬂashes upon the dusk. A mo-
ment later. the blaze deepens as the we on-
covers catch. Slowly the wood ignites. he
bonfire gains fresh strength with every moment.
The wagons were fairly ignited. And once more
the demons resume their mad dance.

 
CHAPTER VIII.
THE CULiDE-SAC.
WHERE was Ella Heﬂui and Arthur Hamil-

  
/

“basin-like valley.

/

22 Mustang Sam, the

King of the Plains.

 
ton? What had happened to them? Could it
be that the Apaches had ridden them down,
cit-her slaying or taking; them prisoners, whil)
the majority pressed on in hot pursuit of Day
and Edith?

This was the sickenng fear that assailed the
last two, even in the face of their own extreme

aril. And indeed that seemed the only plan-Li-

lo solution.

Yet there was another solution, the correct
one.

The can on was abroad and deep our. Along
the right- and side of this canyon extended a
narrow, level shelf or ledge of rork. Over this
course the race for life or death led, and us be.-
fore stated, an abrupt curve in the trail led
Tom Day and Edith Bland out into she circular,
But only enen‘iies followed

em.

Ella. Hoﬂin clung convulsivoly to the saddle,
but she was almost in .ousiblo with fear and
horror. With every movement it seemed as
though she must be hurled over the ledge, down
upon the cruel rocks below, to inaVItable death,
and, woman-like, she closed her eyes not to wit-
ness her own death.

Close behind her rode Hamilton, with drawn
revolver. The yells sounded louder and more
distinct, and he instinctively turned his head to-
glance back. In that moment the division was
eﬂ'ected.

Afragment of roc‘ . frost-eaten and crumb-
llua', shaken from its resting-place by the clutter
,of goofs, fell with a rattling sound to the trail,
directly before Ella’s horse. With a quick snort
the mustang shied, and instiad of following
after the animal ridden by Elith, kept straight
ahead.

Arthur was just in time to see the animal dis-
appear around the curve, and naturally suppos-
ing that Dayﬁhad chosen that trail, followed on.
A moment ter, and he too was hidden from
view around the curve, and for several hundred
yards he did not notice the mistake, so great was

’ excitement.

Then Ella’s mustang slackened its pace. bend-
ing its head low down, snortino‘ tremulous‘ly.
Arthur parted his lips to urge l,Ella forward,
when a faint cry of horror broke from his lips.

Quivering in every limb, the mustang sunk
back u n its haunches, closely pressing again-2t
the roe -wall. The frost-eaten rock beneath its
feet was crumbling, rolling signiﬁcantly down
the side of the canyon. Already the left fore-foot
of the mustang could obtain no secure support,
but pawed frantically against the crumbling
mass, unconsciously precipitating the end.

“ Arthur—save Ina—oh God! have mercy!”
gasped Ella, as her drooping lids raised and the

1111 extent of her peril was realized.

“ I Will—clearﬁour feet of the stirrup—quick l”
hurriele said amilton, thrusting the pistol
into his breast.

His hands thus at liberty, he rose in the sad-
dle and made a quick leap forward. It was a
bold dead, for he could not see the footing that
awaited him, and there was scarce room to pass
between the head and haunches of the frightened

" horses.

Yet, had he used more prudence, he would
have been too late.

Arthur alighted safe between the two uni-
mals, and then ﬂung his arms around Ella’s
waist. In doing so, he was forced to lean
heavily against the mustanq’s haunchcs, and
that completed the work. \Vith an almost hu-
man shriek of terror, the animal ﬂung up its
lead and plunged madly out from the broken
lodge, furiously pawing the unresisting air.
Down—downl then a dull, sickening thud came
up from the gloomy depths below.

For amoment it seemed as though Ella and
Arthur must follow the mustang. With a
strength lent him b the frightful peril, Hamil-
ton lifted the mai on clear of the saddle, just
as the horse plun'ed down to death, but the
cll‘ort overbulunce him. They tottered upon
the narrow ledge. The cruel ab 55 seemed
drawmg them into its embrace of eath. Ella
fairly overhung the canyon. By slackenin his
gripe in the least, Arthur would have been
saved. Alone, unincumbered, he could easily
have regained his balance. But that thought
never.once occurred to him. Together they
would live—or else ﬁnd a grave in common
upon the jagged bowlders below.

But such was not to be the ending. As Hamil-
ton ﬂung out his free hand, seeking: thus to re-
gain his balance, it touched the reins of his
horse, and closed upon them with the tenacity
of despair. Snorting, trembling in every ﬁber,
the animal ﬂung back its head, thoutirlh fearing
tc retreat an inch. And that saved t e couple.
Aided by the sudden 'erk, Hamilton drew
back from the abyss, an with Ella. tight clasp-
ed to his breast, leaned against the rock wall,
faint and Stark.

Though so brief, it had been a killing strug-
gle, such as rarely comes more than once in a
lifetime. His brain reeling, the young man
pauted for breath. And Ella lay passive upon
his breast, for she had fainted, as the frightful
death stared her in the face.

To his dazed eyes she looked like one dead,
and that terrible thought roused him. Mur-
murin'r her name, he pressed his lips to hers re-
peatedly, passionately calling her to look up, to
live for his sake.

How much. longer be mi ht have continued
this lover-like but not remar bly sensible pro-
ceeding, had not an interruption come, is a mat-
ter of conjecture. Several quicklyr succeed—
ing reports came distinctly to his ear, mingled
with shrill, vindictive yells—the Apache battle-

cry.

Clasping Ella’s form still tighter to his breast,
Arthur glanced quickly around, drawing a rc«
volver. But the expected sight did not meet his
gaze. Not an Indian was to be seen: only the
crouching, trembling horse, pressing tightly
against the wall, unable to advance further,
afraid to retreat, since it was impossible to turn
around uﬁon that narrow point.

Then t e truth ﬂashed upon Hamilton, like
a. revelation. He remembered the side passage
but a few score yards away, and knew that
Day and Edith had taken that, followed by all
the Apaches; else the savages would have put
in an appearance before this. The riﬂe-shots
plainly told that Day had been overtaken and
was selling his life dearly.

Had Arthur been alone, he would not have

 
.a,

Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains. 28

 
hesitated a single moment. He would have
braved all danger to lend his friend ahelping
hand. But he held a helpless womaninhis arms
who must (1 io unless he could save her.

“ I can’t desert you, my darling!” he oreath-
ed, pressing his lips to mrs. “ will save you
or we will die mgetlu-r—und then you will know
how dearly I love ytu!”

\Vith a single glam-e he took in tho situation.
It was impossille to pass by the trembling
horse, bearing Ella. The ledge made another
abrupt bend, but did not seem to entirely run
out. If he could pass the spot where the frost—
eaten rock had given way bu ncath tho mustang,
all might yet be well. l'ho venture would be
risky: the rock was shaky and inﬁrm, but that
was the only course left for him.

Breathing a silent prayer, the young man
cautiously made the venture. Once a fragment
of rock gave way beneath his foot, cluttering
down the side of tho canyon, almost destroying
his balance, but catching upon a point of rock,
Arthur saved himself and precious burden,
though his blood stained the ragged projection.
Then, drawing along breath, he found himself
safely past the worst.

A quick, tremulous whiekerhroke the air, and
Ella uttered a faint cry of alarm, as her eyes
once more opened. The sound seemed to break
the stupor that had chained her brain.

“Thank God! I began to think you were
dead 1”

“ That noise—the Indians—where are we?”

“ We are safe as yet—do not be alarmed. M
horse does not fane being left alone, and
must go see to him. on are not afraid to be
alone for a moment?”

“Not-not if you will return soon,” faltered
Ella.

Arthur cautiously retraced his steps, and the
next moment stood before the trembling horse.
It was a hard task that Hamilton had set him-
self, but he believed that both Ella’s and his
own safety depended upon it. The frightened
animal would continue its whickerings until it
guided the Apaches along the trail they had
temporaril lost; and that thought nerved Ar
thur’s hand: I

Firmly clutching the bridle-reins, he plunged
his knife dee into the animal’s throat. Start-
ing back wit the pain, a quick wrench upon
the reins completed the work. The horse, after
a vain struggle, fell from the ledge, into the
abvss.

‘l‘ Poor devil! It seemed like murder—but it
had to be done,” muttered Hamilton, hastily
wiping the hot blood from his hand, and then
retracing his steps to where Ella. stood, tremb-
ling with a vague fear. '

A little cry of joy broke from her lips as
Arthur returned, and his cheek ﬂushed hotly,
for he could no longer mistake the love-light
that burned in Ella’s eyes. But the words that
trembled upon his lips were driven back by the
renewed sounds of ﬁring, mingled with savage
yells and whoops. ‘

“ Come—we must ﬂee. Clase your eyes and
lean upon me. I will guide you safe,” he hur-
riedlv muttered, passing an arm around the
trembling form.

They had advanced source a dozen yards, when

 
Arthur paused, with a bitter curse. Thepassage
was barred by a perpendicular wall. The ledge
ran abmptly out.

“ We must [to back and trust to passing the
point unseen by the paches. Once past, we
ma —

“Too late 1” gas Ella des Jairin ly.

A series of yclﬁchlroke the 1air, ccﬁnin from
the point toward which the had three their
faces. The truth could no onger be doubted.
'l‘he Apaches had missed them, and returning
upon their trail, had discovered the second
ledge. Even upon the hard rOCk, their eagle
eyes could trace where the horses had passed.

“Crouch down in that corner Ella. You
will be safe there, for a time at least. Those
devils will ﬁnd it no child’s play. They can ,
come only one at a time. If they take our lives,
the shall .aya dear price fcrthcm," quietly
sair llanii ton, kneeling before Ella, with a.
cccked revolvu‘ resting upon his left arm, its
muzzle commanding the narrow ledge where it
wound round the point.

The maiden bowed her head upon her lap,
covering her ears to shut out the terrifying
shricks. Pale and stern, his nerves ﬁrm as
ste(llt, Arthur knelt there and awaited the as-
sau .

The were not long kcptin suspense. A sharp
cry to d that the Apaches had ,ained the point
where the two horses had mett eir death. The
fresh blood-traces evidently surprised them.
How came it there?

But one impatient brave did not pause to
speculate upon this, and light-footed as a deer,
sure as a mountain-goat, he passed the crum-
bling rock, and turned thecurve. Abrief h'm so
of two ﬁgures met his eyes; but the yel of in-
cover changed to a wild, horrible death-shriek,
as he ung up his arms, then toppled over, fall-
iniswiftly down the abyss.

revolver-bullet had ended his mortal career.
But it told the Apaches plainly that their prey
was close at hand, and with cries of minglul
rage and triumph, they rusth forward, with
far more haste than rudenco.

Never calmer, Art ur Hamilton recocked his
revolver, and covered the spot where the Apn-
ches must ﬁrst reveal themselvos. The moment
a dusky ﬁgure appeared, he ﬁred. Again the .
terrible yell arose, again a human form plunged
swiftly down the canyon, where the 'ag ed
rocks quickly extinguished what life the en en
missile had left in the body. ,v

The Apaches pressed on with a strange want
of caution' they seemed resolved to con uer, at
any loss. at as rapidly the pistols s o e, and
at that short‘ distance—scared twen y feet—a
far less accurate shot than amilton would
have made every missile count.

Such slaughter could not last long). The Apa-
ches sickened of it ﬁrst, as was ut natural.
They were picked off as rapidly as they could

ass the crumbling point in the ledge, without
Being able to discharge a single arrow at the

ale-face. Little wonder then that they fell
hack with yells of rage and dismay.

“Ella, thank God that we are saved for this
time!” said Hamilton, when fully assured that
the Apaches had retren ted.

“I do—but how will it end? We arelt. u

 
24 Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains.

 
tra ; there is no way of escape except by that—

an fhey are there.“

“ True. It may be best to look the worst full
in the face,” said Arthur, raining the maiden’s
side, as he deftly reloaded his weapons. “ You
are not afraid to look death in the face. Yet it
is hard for one so young and lovely to die—and
by such hands! If I could save you, I would

. not care for myself—”

* “ We will die together,” softly uttered Ella.

Something in her» tone startled Arthur, and
his eyes uickly song t hers. For a moment he
doubted, 's breath coming quick and uneven.
But then the lorious truth burst upon him.
He knew that e was loved—~that his passion
was returned. The dark eyes told him that.

“ Ah, my darling l" he murmured, as he
wound his arms tight] around her form, draw-
ing her close to his t robbing heart, and then
fheir lips met in the long, lingering kiss of pure
ove.

For a time they were lost to all else—the
knowledge that they loved and were beloved in
return. The past trials, the danger that even

than threatened them, the unknown fate of
their late companions—all was forgotten in that
supreme moment. Heart to heart, lip to lip,
they were in paradise.

And around the rock point, a grim, painted
form are t stealthin nearer the lovers, with its
mouth £131 of arrows, a strong bow in its hand.
They did not hear the faint rustling as he crept
along the led e.

Stealthilyt e savage crept on, until the black,
glittering eyes could er around the point.

venomous light ﬁll their depths, as he dis-

‘ covered the clinging ﬁgures and an arrow was
notched to the string. Anxious to make a sure
shot, the savage glided still nearer, until fairly
round the point. Then the how was raised and
the arrow drawn back.

r At that moment Ella raised her eyes and be-

held the peril. With a gasping cry she pushed

Arthur violently to one side, just as the bow-

string twanged. The arrow passed between

,their heads, tearing a lock from the maiden’s
side hair, then expending its ,force upon the
rock beyond.

— ' Arthur hastily ﬂung forward his pistol and
ﬁred. just as the Apache ﬁtted a second shaft.
The bullet struck the rock wall, then glanced,
casting a shower of ﬂintyfparticles into the In-
, ' n’s face with stinging orce. Blinded, con-

‘ fused, he started convulsively. It was a fatal

1 act. Losing his balance he fell over the ledge.
One shrill scream—then a heav thud !

Yellin madly, the Apachesc ar,ed. Arthur
rushed orward to meet them, is revolvers
speaking rapidly. Again death , reigned tri-
umphant in that cul—de—sacl .

/ CHAPTER IX.

A BRIDGE or HAIR. ’

\ BUT this did not last long] The Apaches soo
shrunk back from before e deadly revolvers.
The partial success of their bold comrade had
. momentarily encouraged them to rush forward,
hoping to take the pale-face in a measure off his
guard. N o sooner did they realize the folly of
his hope than the survivors turned and shrunk

Wk once more beyond the death-point.

(

 
Brushin the perspiration from his brow,
Hamilton astin reloaded his pistol, keeping
close watch uﬁo the ledge, half anticipating
another attac . Tremblingly Ella cre tto his
side, feeling safer when within reac of his
strong arm. Arthur stooped and touched her
lips gently, saying:

“ owe my life to you, little one. Only for
that quick push, I would be dead now.”

“ And so would I, even if I had to follow our
poor horses, I will never fall alive into their

ands. But are they gone—can we go now,
back to the wagons?”

Arthur smiled sadly, as he drew her yielding
form closer to his side, yet not so far forgetting
himself as before.

“ No, little one—they are still watching us.
They will never leave us in peace again. I have
killed some of their braves, and they will never
rest until they take my scalp in payment.

“Then we—we can not—get away from
them?”

“My darling, it is hard—very hard to have
to tell {Eu as much, but you must be brave and
try to xar it. It is best to know the worst at
once. We can not escape—nothing short of a
miracle can save our lives. The red demons
hold the pass, and if we were to attempt to
escape by it, they would shoot us down like
wolves. And it may come to that yet; or else
we must stay here until thirst and starvation
does its work. And that will not be long— on
are not strong,” gloomin responded Art ur
Hamilton.

“I am stron r than you think—if I am only
a girl. And t en, if they can keep us in here,
we can keep them out yonder,” bravely respond-
ed Ella, though her lip quivered pitifully.

“Yes, and if the worst comes, we always
have one mode of escape from the Apaches,”
and Arthur glanced own into the canyon
depths, now dim and indistinct as the twilight
deepened. “But that is a last resource. See! I
have a pint of water in my canteen yet, and
two sandwiches. Do you take charge of them,
Ella. Unless you are very hungry, it would be
wisest to save them until, morning. For when
they are gone, our hopes are small indeed.”

Ni ht settled over the desert and rock~hills.
Side y side the lovers crouched upon the cheer—
less rocks, their eies riveted upon the point of
rock around whic the A aches must pass in
order to reach them. Tire and weary, neither
dared to close their eyes in sleep, lest that
moment should be chosen by the vindictive,
unrelenting enemy for an attack. In vain
Arthur besought Ella to leave him and lie down
at the further end of the ledge where she could
sleep in comparative safety. it was only when
she could feel the reassuring pressure of his
strong arm that she felt safe. And thus, his

arm around her waist, her head pillowed upon,

his heart, Ella at length fell asleep, utterly worn
out.

For hours Arthur remained thus, fearing to
move lest he should disturb her peaceful slum-

her, even when his arm grew numb and his

whole person cramped. With revolvers cooked
and read , he watched the goint of rock throu h
that live- ong ni ht, distur ed only once. T a
rapid sound of ing came indistmctly to his

«p

Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains.

85'

 
ears, rousing him from a half-stupor. But the
Apaches did not attack or attempt to surprise
him. And then the gray light in the east be-
tokened the birth of a new day.

The sun had climbed high into the sky before
Ella awoke, which she ﬁnally did with a start
and bewildered stare, than shrinking away from
Arthur with a hot blush. But immediately, as
if remembering what had )llSSCd between them
on the day before, she nest ed close beside him,
iiiid did not refuse the lips when he bent his
head to kiss her.

“ I had a nice sleep—and ohl such pleasant
dreamsl I thought we were once more with
our friends and—”

“ And w at, darling?” asked Arthur as she
suddenly hesitated.

“No ing much. I’ll tell you some time

perhaps; not now. But you~you look pale an
111— cu have kept awake all night 1”
“ es—I did not know at what moment those
demons might venture an attack. But it was
not very hard—for I was watching over you,
little one,” replied Hamilton.

“Perhaps that is what made me Cnam,”
lau bed the maiden, with a little of her old
are ness. “But now you must take some rest.
Go and lie down. I will watch.”

“What if the Apaches should come? Mat
would you do?” and Arthur laughed slightly.

“ I could shoot them—at least keep them at
bay until an awakened. Give me one of the
pistols. ou guarded me all night; surely I
can Watch over you for a little while now.”

“ I am a man—you a dear little woman, too—”

“ There—no more slander, if on please. I
will have it sol Besides what Will you do if we
are still here to-night? You cannot go without
slee forever.” _

“ on promise to awaken me in an hour,
then?” . _

“Just as soon as there is any danger, I Will
awaken you.”

“ Very well, I will take a nap, then, for I am
about worn out. But ﬁrst—you must have your
breakfast. You are starving,” and Arthur pro-
duced the scanty supply of food and water that
alone stood between them and starvation.

“Divide it, then. I will only share_equally
with on,” and Ella remained ﬁrm in this deter-
mine. ion, despite Hamilton’s entreaties, declar-
in that he was not a hit hungry or thirsty.

éeein that Ella would not relent, he divided
the f , and made a pretense of eating, though
he carefully put the food away for her. And
though his throat was parched with thirst, he
barely suffered the water to touch his lips; not
a drop passed his throat. _ . .

Then, while Ella took her pOSition, With cock-
ed revolver in her hand, he lay down upon the
rocks and almost immediately fell asleep.

It was late in the afternoon before Arthur
awoke, and he gentl chided Ella for having al-
lowed him to slum r so long, but her excuse
lay in his sparkling eye and reyiViﬁed spirits.
Tho h suffering keenly from thirst and hunger,
Hami ton was now more like himself, and began
trying to devise some mode of escape from their
perilous situation.

The long silence of the Apaches—for nearly
twenty hours had elapsed Since their last attack

 
—gave birth to a new hope. Might not they
have retreated for good disheartened by their
repeated losses and inability to inﬂict any injury
upon the pale-faces? It would seem so. And,
yet, such was scarcely the Apache nature.

With Ella’s life depending upon him, as her
only earthly protector, Arthur resolved to settle
these doubts, and learn whether the savages
were still guarding the ledge or had departed ‘
for eiice and all. Yet he did not forget pru-
deuce.

Makin r a ball of his coat-sleeves, covered
with a w ite handkerchief, upon which he drew ,
rude representations of a man’s features, he
covered all with his hat, and then cautiously
protruded it around the point. And now he saw
the prudence of his course.

A dozen arrows struck the eﬂigy, and yells of
devilish exultation ﬁlled the air. Hastin drop-

ing the la ﬁgure, Arthur drew his pistols and
ea bac a few paces.

he Apaches once more rushed headlong to
their death, believing that their desperate enemy
had fallen for that their shot had taken eﬂ'ect,
they could not doubt. But the ﬁrst brave who
showed himself at the point tottered back into
the canyon with a bullet in his heart, and a.
second received ashattered arm. The survivors
sullenli retreated, conﬁrmed in their belief that
more t an one enemy defended the pass, and re-
solved that nothing should drive them from their
former intention; they would starve the pale- ‘
faces into submission.

Just before the sun went down, Arthur made
a discovery that foramonient curdled his blood.
Almost directly opposite his position, he noticed
a considerable crevice in the wall of rock. The
manner in which the rays of the setting sun
shone through this, told him plainly that it was
the end of a passage extending through the rocks
probably to the open ground beyond. Had the
Apaches noticed this? If so, the could easily
secure their game with but littedanger. B
gaining the opposite side of the canyon and f0 -
owing this passage, they would hold the tile-
faces completely at their mercy. A single ight
of arrows would end the matter. / \-

With this new fear to trouble him, Arthur
did not close an eyelid that night, Ella sleeping
soundly at his si e. Nothing occurred to dis
turb his vigil except once; the sound of ﬁre-
arms once more came from beyond the rock-
wall. Could it bepossible that Tom Day still
lived—was still defending himself against the
savages? The idea was banished as one of
utter folly. The ﬁring must proceed from the
A aches.

ut then a sickening terror crept upon him.
The night was still, not a breath of air stirring.
Yet stealthy sounds cameto his ears from across
the canyon. He believed his worst fears about
to come true; that the Apaches had gained the
Crevice opposite, and were only awaitin the
coming dawn to riddle his body With th ar-
rows.

It was an hour of terrible, soul-sickening sus-
pense, such as might well blanch a stout man’s

air from black to white. Yet Arthur had one
strangely soothing thought. If he died it would
not be a. one. He remembered the pled 6 Ella
had extracted from him; that he would. ill her

 
23‘

Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains.

 
with his own hand rather than suffer her to full
alive into the clutches of those demons. And be
resolved to do his duty. If not in life, at least
thay would be united in death.
ently he roused Ella, and whispered to her
his fears. For a moment she quailod; then
twining her arms round him she repeated her
request. In silence he cocked his revolvers and
pressed the black muzzle against her temple.
hus they waited. The ﬁrst arrow shot would
be the signal for their death.

As the gray light softened, Hamilton could dis—
tinguish several shadowy ﬁgures upon the ledge
be 0nd, and heard the subdued murmur of
v0 085. A moment later, he heard a slight noise
upon the ledge around the point, and with stern
despair, turned that way, resolved to deal one
more death before giving up life.

He heard the twanging of .bows, and then a
slight commotion upon the other side of the can-
gon, followed by a ﬁerce, sonorous curse. Petri-

edwith astonishment, he could scarce believe
his ears. No red-skin could ever utter such a
full dee chested oathi

“ Sea r, boys—we’ve run into a nest o’
ho’netsl” ,

All doubt was now dissipated. The ﬁgures in

r the crevice beyond were white men, and enemies
to the Apaches, who had ﬁred upon them. Know-
ing'that they must be his friends, from that,
Hamilton cried aloud:

“For God’s sake do not desert us, if ye be
men! A lady here asks your aid—do not leave
her to die by the hands of these accursed
Apaches!”

“Who are you—who is with you?" eagerly
cried a tremulous voice.

“,Arthur Hamilton—and Miss Heﬂiu is with

_, Lory of heartfelt joy—a groan of sickening

apprehension greeted this announcement; the

one from Thomas Heﬂin, the other from Edward
_ Bland. .

Ella recognized her father’s voice as she awoke
', from her sleep, and with one glad er —believ-
ing with all a daughter‘s beautiful fait , that he
would assuredly save her from death—over-
tasked nature gave way and she fainted.

“ Back, man—be ye crazy?” cried Mustang
Sam, as the Anache‘s’ arrows began to cross the
canyon in swift succession. “ We must ’tendto
them critters fu’st. Look to your riﬂes—hand
’em to me as fast as I ﬁre. ”

His riﬂe spoke, and a wild yell told how
truly. Anot or wea on was handed him, and
was discharged with ike result. But that was

The Apaches could not stand such deadly
compliments, and hastily retreated deeper into
the shadows, their bows silenced.

' ’ There was now sufﬁcient light for the parties
to dimly distinguish each other, and a hasty
explanation ensued. Though Hamilton be.-
lieved in his heart that Tom Day and Edith
Bland were both dead, he could not say as
much in the face of the father. and alluded to
the recent ﬂrino; beyond the hill as though it
proceeded from them.

“It was that brung: us here,” said Mustang
Sam. “ That an’ some shootin’ we heard afore.
But now, how to git across this cussed ditch?

 
It’s no use tryin’ to go around; we did try that
last night, when we found the way blocked, an’
both ends lead to the devil un’ back ag’in. Let
me think a bit.”

“ If you have any water and food with you,
for mercy sake try and get it across, for we are
almost starvedl”

Some bits of dried meat were promptly ﬂung
across, and chctman, emptying the little re-
maining whisky from his leathern ﬂask, ﬁlled
it from a canteen, and tossed it to Arthur. The
next minute thirst was appeased.

“ Say, young man, look around ye. Is thar
any stout point of rock you could tie a rope to?”
suddenly called the Mustang.

“ Yes—hero is one that will do.”

“Then we’ll ﬁx it! Boys, you keep the red-
 quiet. Don’t let ’em slip a arrcr into me,
of ye kin help it. Now!” .

"While speaking Mustang Sam unwound the
horse-hair lasso round his body, and ﬂung the
noosed end to Arthur, who, ﬁrst addimr the
rock with his coat, ﬁrmly noos the dasso
around the spur. Its strength was then tested
by several of the emigrants tugging with all
their power, but the noose and rock resisted
the strain, and Mustang Sam tied the rope in
like manner upon his side of the canyon. Then
renewing his caution to the emigrants, he bold-
ly advanced and grasped the taut rope, swing-
ing himself over the ledge, dangling above the
canyon, crossing: it hand over hand.

An arrow hissed viciously past his face, grazing
the muscles of his left arm, numbing it so that
his ﬁngers relaxed and the member dropped
helplessly by his side. A cry of horror broke
from the whites at this, and they expected to
see their bold leader dashed to death upon the
rocks below; all bu '; Sweatman. His riﬂe spoke,
and the exnltant yells of the Apaches turned to
dismay, as their boldest brave fell dead into the
a yss.

“ Bully for you, Beauty l” cried Mustang cooll
swinging by one hand. “But shoot a lit“. e
quicker next time. The Varmint ’most did fer
me that pop 1”

A moment later he was crossing, the momen-
tary numbness gone from his arm. Arthur as-
sisted him to climb upon the ledge, and then
they encouraged the others to follow. The feat
was more dangerous to the imagination than in
reality, only for the Apaches, the distance was
so short.

In a very short time all but two men had
crossed in safety, and Mustang Sam bade them
wait there with their riﬂes in readiness, until
he cleared the pass of the Apaches. Then with
drawn revolvers the emigrants followed his lead
around the point, their passage being undisputed,
for the red-skins knew that it would be fatal to
expose themselves to the aim of the riﬂes across
the canyon. But a rattling, thumping sound
echoed through the pass, though the authors
were hidden from view. Mustang Sam uttered
a bitter curse.

“Follow me—they’re blockin’ up the pass!
Quick] or we’re trapped for sure!” '

With a wild cheer the emigrants followed his
lead. But at the second lean, Mustang Sam
paused and glanced around. A signiﬁcant
sound came to their ears.

 
Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains. ‘ 2’,

(,‘IL‘rl’TIJI‘. X.
'rnn sou 1:21: on oUAnn.

IN the mountain, how fared it with Tom Day
and Edith Bland? Our last glimpse of them left
them in a situation of imminent peril.

Punting, almost breathless with his terrible
exertions, the soldier followed Edith Bland to
the top of the rock. With yells of angry cha-
grin, the Apaches continued their shower of ur-
rows, charging madly up to the foot of the mesa,
upon their ﬁery little ponies.

Tom Day realized his peril—he saw that the
savages meant to overcome. him in one stern
rush, and while pushing Edith down upon the
rock, to guard her against tho hissing arrows, he
drew a revolver. Crouching down upon the
edge of the mesa, he opened a. rapid, telling ﬁre
upon the savages as they Crowded around the
base, striving to scale the almost perpendicular
side of the rock. In their excitement the sav-
ages did not appear to notice this, mitil two of
their number ad fallen, one dead, the other
mortally wounded. But then as the vicious re-
ports continued, their chief uttered a peculiar
yell, and the savages darted back beyond pistol
rance.

The respite was most opportune, since it gave
the soldier time to look around and take in his
situation.

There was no ground or point of rocks within
riﬂe-range that was high enough to command
the top of the mesa. Thus nothing but a direct
assault could conquer him and the face of the
rock was so nearly perpendicular that Tom be—
lieved not more than two or three savages could
scale it ata time and then be sodifﬁcult that
he stood a. fair chance of .icking them off one
after another with his revo vcr before they could
gain a foothold.

Resolved to know every point. the soldier
crept along the edges and careful! examined
every side of the mesa, though whi 0 thus occu-
pied he ran no small risk by being licked oil.’ b
the Apache marksman who lay be iind the at —
jacent bowlders. A few minutes suiﬂced for
this, and his heart was considerably lightened
as he found that only one side of the mesa could
be scaled by man. The defense promised to be
an easier task than he had at first supposed. .

“ Courage, Edithl" said the soldier, regaining
the maiden’s side, “ courage—all is not lost yet.”
“ They have not—not run away for good i"

“ No—they haVen’t sense enough for that.
They’re all around us, hidden among the rocks
and holes, waiting for us to fall gently into their
clutches, no doubt. I only hope they’ll know it
when we do. the greasy, painted, cowardly var-
inintsl" half-laughed Tom, yet, with an ill-eon-
ccaled uneasiness in his manner that did not es-
cape the quick-witted girl.

“ You need not try to hide your thoughts from
me, dear Tom,” Edith said, faintly smiling as
her tiny gloved hand sought his broad, firm
palm. “ I am no longer a Filly child—I do not
feel like the same person—these few hours have
greatly altered me. I can face the worst—it
worst must come. At least we will not be separ-
nted.”

The soldier was deeply affected by these
words, so quietly, simply SPORGD. and as he at-
tempted a reply, the words stuck in his throat,

 
and he could only draw the lithe, yielding- form
closer to his heart, a sickening pain tearing at
his heart-strings us he felt what a, faint hope
there was of their escape with life. It seemed
doubly hard to die now; but even his naturally
buoyant spirits could wrest no gleam of hope
for the future from their dark surroundings.

“ Ilist l” suddenly uttered I‘ld 1th, drawin back
her head, “ what is that—that SOUDd—( 0 you
hear it?" ‘

Fora moment the soldier seemed dazed and
bewildered, and glared around with an unsteady
gaze. Edilb’s exclamation had roused him
from a momentary oblivion of the surround—
111;:5.

“ That sound——what doesit mean?” quickly rc-
peatcd Edith, one hand pointing toward the
edge. of the mesa. .

‘llal the devils think to catch us napping!”
and the soldier‘s eyes lighted up with the stern,
deadly iii-o that a i’ocman might well dread.
“ Lie down close behind me, darling—I will keep! "
them from you. Shut your eyes and pray that
the varmints may be defeatc l

“Together in life or death 1” Edith murmured,
just touching her lips to his, then crouching low
down upon the ﬂat rock. /

Resolutely choking down the swelling lump
that rose in his throat, Tom Day cocked his re-
volver and directed his entire attention to the
edge of the mesa. A faint, almost in: )ercopti-
ble rustling sound mme to his car. he knew
now what it meant. T he Apaches, burning with
vengeance for the number of their braves that
death had claimed, had crept from their rocky
coverts and were new attempting to scale the
stone fort. . '

Knowing this, a less prudent man than the
soldier would have rushed forward to repulse
them, while they were so busied with clin 'ng‘
to the almost perpendicular face of the rod? as
to be unable to me their weapons for self-tie
fenue. But Day knew that the attacking party
“ere not acting blindly—that their motions
were covered by others of tho Apaches, ready to
send a bullet or arrow cloud to sweep clear the
face of the mesa. should he not thus. And. feel-
ing this, he sternly awaited the result, knowing "
that even more than life depended upon his exer-
tions during the coming moments. r

A faint, tremulous cry sounded upon the 01- '
most deathlike stillness; for the faint rustling
ncis‘o had now ceased. Asthou .h in reply to an
agreed-upon signal, a horrible, eafening clamor
arose.

Wild, piercing yells rent the air, broken by an
irregular volley of riﬂes. Leaden bullets and
feathered shafts hissed and hurtled viciously
over the top of the mesa, though the crouching
ﬁgures were unharmed.

The soldier smiled grimly. He knew Well that
this was but a blind to cover the more deadly A
assault to follow. .

He was not long kept in suspense. Even while
the valley was revorberating with the riﬂe-
shots, several dusky hands clutched the wire of
the rock, and thus assisted, the heads and shoul-
ders of three Apaches rose above the mesa.

A little cry broke from Edith’s lips as she
caught sight of the grim, grotesque] ainted
faces; the keen, black eyes, ﬁlled wt 0 ﬁn

 
28 Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains.

 
of deadly vengeance, that only the loss of life
could extinguish.

Calm and steadily, as though aimed at the
regulation target, the revolver of the soldier
rose until the silver drop covered the forehead
of one of the Apaches; then the hammer fell.

Almost crowning the sharp report a horrible
yell, blood-curdling in its intensty, broke from
the stricken red-skin’s lips as a few drops of life-
blood spirted from the discolored hole that
marked the passage of the unerring bullet. With
a. convulsive reaction of the strained muscles,
the stricken savage leaped upon the mesa. Up—
on the very edge he stood fora ﬂeeting moment,
the hot life-blood pattering down upon the gray
rock at his feet.

But this was onl for a moment; then the

erect head droo , the muscular arms were

ﬂung aloft, an with a sickening, gurgling
roan, the lifeless clay sunk backward, falling
avilv over the edge of the mesa.

Asvthough released from a spell by this, By
' again cocked his pistol and discharged it f 1

into the broad chest of the topmost savage.

One wild bound carried the savage: to his enemy
and it seemed as though the sol 'er had misse
his aim.

But then, soon as he ﬂung u his left arm to
.ward oﬂf the threatened blow, a felt the hot
' life-blood sprinkling his face, an the Apache

 the glittering blade, falling forward,

Yet even in death it seemed as though he was
resolved to avenge his fallen comrades, for his
hea form fell upon the crouching soldier,
hearing him back u n the rock, the revolver
fallin from his han in the shock.

As ay grappled with the still-quivering ﬁg-
ure, uncertain how much life might remain,
two cries saluted his ears. The third A ache
leaped forward and clutched at the sodier’s
throat, at the some time delivering a vicious

' thrust with his long knife.
A momentary famtness seized u on Tom Day
- as he felt the cold steel pierce is ﬂesh, and
then, as the sharp pang told him he was wound-
, ed, a mad rage seized upon him, and whirling
from beneath the corpse, he delslperately grep.
pled with the Apache. Like w' d beasts they
rolled over and over the ﬂat table—top, ﬁrst one
above, then the other, the Apache uttering his
ﬁerce war-cry, which was promptly echoed back
from below, and the scrambling of moccasined
feet upon the mesa face came quite distinctly to

the ears of the antagonists.
» ‘ All seemed lost. It was all that the soldier
' could do to kee the biting knife from his per-
. son; free himse f from the vise-like grasp of the
Apache he could not, without losingl his hold
.upon the knife-hand. And that won] be fatal.

But in that critical moment an unexpected
ally appeared. Edith, realizing the imminent
peril of her lover, spnmg to her feet and clutch-

 ed the half-cocked revolver that had fallen from
“ Tom Day’s hand.

. Without hesitating a moment, she placed the
weapon to the head of the Apache, cooking it
with the same motion.

, At the report, the savage fell forward, dead,
his skull fairly shattered to pieces. His face
covered. with clotted blood and brains, almost

T~ ’

 
blinded, Tom Day ﬂung aside the cor se and
sprung to his feet. It was a well-mg fatal
action, for the marksmen below saw and recog-
nized the ﬁgure, and discharged a hasty volley
of bullets and arrows at him. This very haste
probably frustrated their ho es, for, though he

card the vicious whistling o the missiles, even
agove the loud reports, the soldier was untouch—
e .

This incident recalled his usual coolness, and
dashing the blinding blood from his brow, Day
crouched to the rock. Edith handed him the
revolver, and then sunk to the rock, lifeless.

Fortunately for himself, Day did not notice
this, else he might even then be conquered.
Even as it was, the foremost of the Apaches
was just crawling upon the mesa top.

At that distance—scarce ten feet—one could
not miss such a target, even when trembling
and panting heavil from a desperate struggle,
and the grote ue y-painted face sunk back,
now marked wit blood.

Then seizing upon the two dead bodies, Day
hurled them, one after another, over the edge
of the mesa, smilin grimly as he heard the
heavy fall of struggl ng bodies upon the jagged
rocks beneath. The novel missiles had swept
the steep ascent clear of Apaches.

“ We’ll whip ’em yet, Edith,” muttered Day,
but as no re 1y came, he glanced quickly around,
a wild horri le fear tearing at his heart-strings.

He saw the prostrate ﬁgure—saw the upturned
face was ale and ghastly as that of a corpse;
and a dul , heart-breaking cry broke from his
lips as he crept toward the motionless body of
her he loved so well.

He could detect no breath, no beating of the
pulse, no throbbing of the heart. The pale face
seemed cold to his trembling touch. He felt that
Edith was dead.

One more cry parted his lips.

And from below arose t e shrill vindictive
yells of the bloodthirsty Apaches. They seemed
preparing for another assault. But the'soldier
did not heed them.

CHAPTER XI.
THE GLADIATOR’S LAST STRUGGLE.

BUT, through their ignorance of what had oc-
curred uplon the top of the mesa, the Apaches
allowed t e golden moment to: pass by, unim-
Eroved, when one more effort would assuredly

ave gained them the reward of their desperate
and unusually persistent endeavors.

Their yells, then, were not the charging-cry
renewed, but had a far different signiﬁcance.
Peculiar cries had attracted their attention to-
ward the pass by which they had entered the
circular valley. Several of their comrades were
just entering; those who had been dispatched
after the missing couple of pale-faces. The
efforts of these, at least must have been reward-
ed with success: such was the gratifying
thought that ﬁlled the mind of each Apache.

The reader knows, ’however, that in this hope
they were fated to bitter disappointment. In-
deed, the A aches, though their game was safely
brought to ay, re<1uired reinforcements. One
assault had met wi h a bloody loss; but, sooner
or later the hated pale—face must succumb to the
indomitable courage and prowess of the A

 
Mustang- Sun, the King of the Plain-q ‘ ’20

Thus, their party divided, one portion invest-
ing the canyon-pass, the other surrounding the
s naive-topped mesa, tho Apaches seemed resolv-
ed to await the slower but more sure result of
thirst and starvation. And thus the night rolled
silently on.

All was silent as death upon the mesa top.
Not a breath, not a rustle came to the watchful
Apaches, to tell them of their anticipated prey,
not a sound came to their keenly strained cars.

As the gray light of day dawned over the val—
lcy, the gaze of all was cagcrl directed toward
the rock. Already the Apac es were canvass-
ing another attem t—another scaling-party;
but fortunately, per a s, for all concerned, this
project was abandonc .

First one keen-eyed savage detected a. faint,
irregular patch of mud-like vapor just above the
nmsa top, and then all shrewdly guessed the
truth. The vapor was smoke curling from the
pipe of the alefacc. And their half-formed
resolve quiet y died away.

The Apaches were correct in their surmise.
At that moment the soldier, Tom Day, sat upon
the rock above, a short pipe in his mouth, a re-
volver at half-cock in one hand, while the other
rested lightly u on the head that was illowed
upon his lap. is face was pale an jaded,
hearing but too plainly the marks of deep anx-
iety and suil'ering; but the wild, dazed look of
des air had ﬂed from his eyes.

or Edith Bland was not dead—was now
sleeping peacefully, trustfully, unharmed in
body.

As she beheld the horrible sight—the dread
result of her action, in the quivering corpse of
the A )ache, a revulsion came, and she swooned.
Thus om had found her; and for fully an hour
he had believed her dead. Then she faintly
stirred in his arms, her eyes opened, and she
focbly murmured his name.

Over that period of almost heavenly joy, draw
a vail. Words are powerless to paint such;

But now Tom Day sat gloomily weighin the
chances of their future. They were sma l—if
indeed there was any hope. Already he was
tortured with thirst and faint with hunger.
Added to this was now a wear longing for
sleep. More than once his hea drooped and
his lids closed' but manfully he fought back the
tem tation. To yield, even for a single moment
mig t be death—for his loved one as well as
“93%” ' 11” h m 1 h k‘l

eep on, poor gir e mu rel , us 1 y,
as he gently smoothed the masses of disheveled,
silken hair. “ Sleep on—the longer the better.
It may be our last chance. Hunger and thirst
will soon ill ou—even if those devils remain
quiet. Oh! if t 1e clouds would only come!”

But his eye detected no hope from this quar—
ter, as he eagerly scanned the horizon by the
rapidly increasing light of day. And a bitter
lament broke from 1113 lips, as he knew that in
another hour they would be exposed to the full
rays of the torrid sun. The end could not long
be protracted, since the had no water. ‘

But we need not dwe upon the long hours of
that; day; the subject is not a pleasant one. The
sufferings of the lovers were terrible, as the full
force of the glowing sun fell upon their unpr
tected heads; yet, strange as it may appear, the

 
strong man suitorod by far the more acutely.
A truly invaluable treasure Tom Day now found
the pint ﬂask of whisky that he usually carried
in his breast pocket “ for Iredicine in case of ac-
cidents.” Only for that, they must have given
way. Its subtle strength sustained their sink-
ing spirits,

Thus the long day were on, and night once
more came over the valley. The Apaches made
no re ilar attack, though an occasional arrow
was s ot over the mesa, or at such an angle that
it descended upon the ﬂat top. Tom had snatch—
ed a brief sleep in the afternoon, and felt great-
ly refreshed as the cool night breeze s rung up.

A dull, heavy silence sprung over t 10 valley
as the night were on. All seemed wra ed in
slumber. With Edith’s head again p11 owed
upon his lap, Toni Day gradually yielded to
sleep, and then the mesa was left unguarded.

T e indistinct reports of ﬁre-arms failed to
arouse him; indistinct, because the ragged hills
multiplied their echoes a thousand times. And
the Apaches below began to stir, their excito—
ment growing momentarily more and more in-
tense. A couple of warriors suddenly appeared
in their midst, and in a few hasty wor s coni-
municatcd news of evident interest. The loud
voice of their chief broke the silence, and in obe-
dience to his orders a number of warriors has-
tened away toward the mouth of the ass.

And through all this the soldier s ept peace—
full '.
The light of day was breaking in the east. Al-
read outlines were tolerany distinct. Phan-
tom-ike, the dusky Apaches were athering
around the base of the mesa. In tieir eyes
glowed adeadly determination; from tlicirhard, _
stern-set faces one could tell that they had re-
solved upon success—even though hall! their
forces must ﬁrst feel the hand of death. '

And then the dark ﬁgures began to scale the
face of the mesa, cling-in to the points of rock
digging their moccasine toes into the holes and
crevices, carrying keen blades tightly clinched
betwixt their teeth. All was silence above.
Not a breath—not a rustle gave token that the
pale—face was upon his guard and ready to give
them a hot reception.

The foremost Apache grasped the edge of the
rock and drew himself bodily upward. He saw
a dark ﬁgure crouching upon the rock, with out— _
stretched arm; but then the light of life was
forever quenched in his eyes. A blindin r ﬂash «
-—a sharp report, and the Apaches knewt at the
pale-face was awaiting their coming. v

The faint noise of the'ascent ad aroused
Edith, and she had awakened the soldier.

In uick succession the Apaches scaled the
rock, ut the deadly revolvers spoke quite as
rapidly. One after another the assailants reel
and fall back, until the rock base is thickly
strewn with the dead and disabled. Still the
survivors press on. They are Wild, mad; noth-
ing but human blood can quench their thirst.

Chamber after chamber IS quickly emptied.
Each shot claims a life. Yet others spring up
to take the place of the fallen. And then an in-
voluntary cry of dismay broke from the sol-
dier’s lips as the hammer falls twice upon the. ~
uncover nipples. His last istol was empti— ,
he is utterly defenseless—an still the Apac es

 
'80

I ward.

 
[Mustang Sam, the King- of the Plainl.

 
swarm on and up the rock face, dragging their
bodies over the escarpment, yelling like ﬁends
incarnate.

And with his naked hands, Tom leaps for-

 
This was the sound that caused Mustang Sam
to pause so abruptly in his impetuous charge
upon the Apaches—the sound of rapid ﬁring,
mingled with the charging yells, the death-
shrieks of the A aches. The almost incredible
truth seemed to urst upon his mind as if by in-
stinct, and he loudly yelled:

“ My head ag’inst a. petriﬁed pigtail that’s the
soldier teller still ﬁghtin’ the ho’nets! ()n—l‘ol-
ler me, boysl VVe‘ll cheat the or’nary var-
mints yit 1”

With wild cheers the emigrants, thoroughly
infected by his reckless daring, closely pressed
after Mustang Sam. A moment more and the
result of the thumping, clattering sound was be-
tore them.

A barricade of jagged rocks and bowlders

v completely choked up the mouth of the pass

\

V Screamed

.that led into the circular valley. Already the

barricade was breast high, and Apaches were
still adding to it.

“Now-don’t stop or we’re played!" yelle'l
Mustang, gathering himself together. “Don’t
give ’em time to ﬁre—do as I do an’ the var-
mints air ours 1"

Even as the aneg yell told that the savages
had discovered t eir approach Mustang Sam
darted forward, unchecked by the storm of riﬂe
bullets and arrows that were poured from the
barricade. Like a bird he rose into the air,
fairly clearing the pile of rocks, alighting safely
upon his feet in the very midst of the startled
and bewildered red-skins.

Striking desperame out, right and left, Mus-
tang Sam cleared himself sufﬁciently to draw
his revolvers. And then the deadly weapons be—
ganto play, before the Apaches could cast oil?
the amazement that seized upon them at this
marvel )us feat of strength and skill.

“On, be S! Giv’ them the best ou’ve got!”
ustang Sam, fairly ma with excite-
ment, as the foremost emigrants began clam-
berinrr over the barricade.

A “horrible, deadly melee followed. The
changes were too rapid for the human eye to

' follow. The struggle too exciting and thrilling

--too deadly and furious for words to describe.
It was like the horrible, breathless deathgrap-
le of two—score wild savage beasts pressed up
ogether with no mode of escape by ﬂight—
where death could only be avoided by slaying.
It was soul—sickening.
, Scarcely a minute elapsed from the ﬁrst shot,
until all was over at that point—the battle
fought, the victory won. The defeated—the
few who had escaped immediate death or dis-
abling wounds—were in full ﬂight down the
pass leading into the circular valley.

“On—it’s only begun—thar’s more devils
down enderl” cried Mustan Sam, dashing the

" , hot b ood from his eyes; 8. mg{ gash seaming
, his skull and forehead. !
/late to help our friends i”

“ Quic

Close upon the heels'of the ﬂying savages

dashed theemigrauts. Ten seconds carried them

we’ll be too

 
to the edge of the valley.
broke from Mustang’s lips:

“ Good God! look yonder!”

The mesa was surrounded by savages, some
alive, others dead or else writhing hornny in
the last agonies. Some were still scaling t‘nn
rock; and half a dozen ﬁgures stood boldly 01:2—
lined upon the top.

A single man was battling against these feil"~
ful odds.

As the emigrants burst into view of this wil 1
scene, they saw a slight form spring forward to
the side of the soldier, and heard, even above the
horrible din. two quick reports. It was Edith,
who had hurriedly rel0'ided the revolver ﬁrst
discharged, and now, thoughtless of self, only
seeing the imminent peril of her lover, she came
nobl to his rescue.

“ ell, boys, to tell ’em we’re comin’l” crierl
Mustang, setting the example, and then the val-
ley was ﬁlled with the loud, ringing cheer as the
rescuers sped forward.

It had the desired effect. The Apaches hear-'1
and saw the new fee, and fear magniﬁed their
numbers. Little yells of dismay ﬁlled the air.

Tom Day also heard the unmistakable sound,
and it nerved his nearly exhausted powers.
Clutchiug his antagonist with a giant’s gripe, lm
raised his feet clear of the rock and hurled him
headlong over the edge. At the same moment
Edith ﬁred again, with deadly aim. And to—
tally dismayed, the survivin two Apaches
turned and leaped madly from t 10 rock.

Punting, breathless, the soldier sunk down, his
brain reeling, almost dead. Forgetting all else.
Edith dropped her weapon and caught his sink
ing form in her arms.

Down in the valley all was confusion. The
terror-stricken Apaches ﬂung aside their weap-
ons and or cry thing that could serve to incum-
bcr them, and ﬂed in every direction. closely
followed by the maddencd emigrants, whose
deadly revolvers played rapidly. Not one
thought was given to mercy.

An hour later all was over, and the valley
was deserted by all save the dead. Mustang
Sam passed word for the two men who had been
left upon the further side of the canyon, to hast-
en back to the animals, and take them to the
spur of rocks. Then, with the two girls carried
upon the rude litters, the party slowly made
their way through the hills. Tom Day, though
faint with the loss of blood. was yet only slightly
hurt, and, refreshed with food and drink, man-
aged to keep pace with the rest.

“Yet, despite the double rescue and reunion,
it was a sad, gloomy and dispirited party,
for all now know the worst; that their fam-
ilies were murdered and their teams destro '-
od, leaving them almost in the heart of t e
desert.

The horses were regained, and then led by
Mustang, the party soon found themselves be-
side a beautiful spring, where they determined
to encamp for the time being.

CHAPTER XII.
“PLAYED our” AND A “STAG” DAan.
To set all possible doubts at rest, Mustang
Sam soon after rode out of the encampment
upon the black stallion, and galloped swiftly

An involuntary cry

 
Mustang Sam, the

King of the Plains.

 
81

 
toward the point from whence had risen the
tell—tale light. But little the worse for the
wounds—0r scratches, as he himself termed
them—that he had received during the valley
ﬁght, the dashing plainsman kept every sense
upon the full alert. He felt that, in a measure,
the lives of the small remnant of the emigrants
depended upon his skill and coolness, since he
alone knew might of the desert waste that sur-
rounded them.

Mustang Sam was scarcely disappointed when
he came within fair view of the mesa, and (lis-

. tin ished the blackened and charer remains

of he train, together with the white. dismem-

‘ hercd bones that alone remained to tell the tra-

‘ ' It was nothing more than he had ex—
pected. ‘

’VBut the Apaches—where were they? A ques-
tion soon aimwered, and most dis-agreeably, too.
A keen glance around showed Mustang an iii—
distinct clump, far distant, riding ra idly to-
ward the mesa. That they were 11“ ians, he
could not doubt.

The bold plainsman felt assured that he could
’ pass by before the Apaches could fairly inter-
cept him. I, was a narrow shave, but Tornado
did not fail his master, and an hour later Mus-
tan * Sam rode into camp.

“ liar’s only one hope. We’re on the main
trail now. A train may come along strong
enough to whip these varmints. But we can‘t
wait for it—so I’m goin’ to ride out an’ hurry it
up, while you tellers hold this place.”

The project seemed little short of suicide. The
Apaches were upon every side. How could a
horseman pass them?

To all remonstrances, Mustang Sam replied
with a gay, careless laugh. His mind was set,
and nothing but death could alter his deter-

‘ mination.

' Ho longed upon Comanche’s back, leading

Tornado y a stout horse-hair halter, secured to
his shoulder. Then, with a revolver drawn and
cocked in either hand, he rode forth, swiftly as
the career of the dreaded norther.

For a moment the Apaches seemed at a loss,
but then, as one man, they ﬂocked to intercept
the fugitive. Their riﬂes and bows began to
speak, mingled with the revolvers of the Mad
Rider. Comanche reared high in the air. utter-
ing an almost human shriek of agony. His race
was run. Ono mad bound—then he fell to the
sands, dead.

But Mustang Sam! As the cloud of dust arose,
he was seen racing swiftly away, safely astrido
Tornado, having leaped from the death-stricken
Comanche just in the nick of time.

The day and night past-ml slowly, wearin
enough to the jaded. hard-beset emigrants.
Scarce an ll()'.l‘ passed by without some annoy-
ance from tho Apaches, who, however, seemed
fearful of coming into direct collision. They
were waiting for reinforcements.

But they waited too long for the success of
their revenge. By noon of the second day. they
suddenly took to ﬂight. A cloud of, dust in the
distance explained this. It marked. the return
of Mustang Sam, accompanied by a score of
sturdy “ boys in blue.” _Hchad found a-govern-
meat {main upon the trail, and the commanding
oﬂ‘lcer at once set out to the rescue.

D 

   
Tho remnant of the emigrants were accommo-
dated as the train came 11 ). Under convoy of
the soldiers, they had nothin more to fear, and
safely reached their destination.

Acting upon the advice of his lady-love’s
father, ’l‘oni Day resigned his commission, and
joined Mr. Bland upon his milling claim. In
the same mine labored Ella’s father and Arthur
Hamilton.

A month after their arrival, “ Skunk Hollow”
——as the valley was euphoniously named b the
pioneer minors from the abundance of those
sweet-scented animals—was the scene of a grand
double-wedding; every man knocked off work,
and golden gifts fairly ﬂooded our friends, from
the enthusiastic minors. To the ecstatic wailing
of a cracked ﬁddle, tho red-shirth miners lum-
licred around in the vein tuous “stag-dance,”
for Edith and Ella. were i 0 only women at the
Hollow.

But the reader must imagine the rest.

Mustang Sam was there—and got “ gloriously
drunk on the occasion,” too. Then he vanished
—returiicd once more to the wild life a glimpse
of which we have laid before the res. er.

THE END.

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11 Ralph Roy, the Buy Buccaneer. By 01. ingrnhzun. “3 Idylr m" (’m Mme“ By “Vin! L. Wheeier.

1% Nick 0' the Ni ht- or,’i'hu Boys Iy of’is. Br T, 1, ‘ .u , . T . '
.._ "Mbﬂngh' ‘3 ' 1 3 150$“. v DILL; or, he Hero in Rap. By Chnrlel

'13 Y .11 atone Jan-k. By .10 l' h E. Bniur J .
14 “alg‘ﬁum u", My Claude‘nﬁm ﬁyL‘Eéwflrd L_ 70 sure Shot Seth, the Boy Riﬂemln. By 0110mm...
Wheeier. 71 Sign?) Sums or, The Adventure: oanrieud.nu Boy.
3' ‘

15 Diamond Dirk. By Cninnr-l Prentiss Ingrnimm. Alexander Patten.
16 Rue“. Knife, i‘rim‘e 4" tin! Pruiriun. ByOHChumcl. 72 The L‘on ofﬂle gem 3v “bertw Aiken

1? 0 o Sol- or men Whiiiin’sBo'S v. u c c.
3'”? " ’ " " ’ "5 y “" 73 Photograph Phil, the Boy 513mb. ByEdwm-d 1..

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18 Death-Face, the Detective. By E. L. “Wheeler. “healer.

12% ’hﬁ::€c§&l(égﬁgf?$zﬁa, the Reckless Rnngm    or, Nicodemm, uurboz Dclaeclive.
3; ammuxzxma: ° arms. mm:Barrow- By 
28 The Ben-CM}. By Cnplnin‘i-‘rederick Whittaker. 76 \VateII-Eye. the Shadow. By Edwin] L. Wheeler.
27  the (’Ereni Shot of the West. 8‘ Cn t. J.  gird‘mof Bulk" Devfee' By Ed. L. Wheel"-

F' C' A““"“" y p Reied nnd‘i‘srtdo%il(l::"i|iiil‘nh:;. By cnpmln Mly".
28 I'l‘he Boy Captain. 3.- Roger Sturbuck. so old Flint” m Guide. By T. C. Hmbnugh'

29 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. By Capt.
rmdariuk Whittaker. 81 Tge Sen Viper; or, The liiidnhipiunn'. Legucy. By

80 11:01) Woolli’. ills Bord»; Iri‘nignné By E.l L. Wheelrr, oi. P. [ugh-hum.

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32 mick John. the whim“... n.3.h.n»duer..1r. 3’ Emu-13mm“ 7‘“ WNW of the Frontier. By
83 Omaha 0“. in. Muskh'rmor. y 14.1.. “'hurh-r. " ‘ '

84 Burt B her. the Trapper. By Ganrge E. Lnsnlle. 83 Canada Chet, ﬂu Counurfeiur Ciiicf. By Edward
85 The Boy Rliicu. By A. C. irons. L. Whuiar.
36 The White B ifulo. By George E. handle. 34 The Dumb Page; M, The Doggy. Daughhh n‘.
8? Jim “indium. Jr. 13.x; Edward L Wheeler. Captain Frederick Whilmker. '
88 Ned “"zd’ the Boy humm' By C‘wt' '1' F'C' 85 The Boy Mine". By Edwnrd S. Eilin.

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39 Dcndlv Eye. Hm Unknown Scout. Bv Buffalo Bill. 86 Jack llarknwny in New York. By Bur...

40 Nick \Vhllﬂon’i’l’g. iiy Cu i. J. F. C. Adams. bridge Hemyng.

4; getd‘yngtﬂmgmi ﬁgg-ﬁ Comf- th‘m 37 The “amp Captain. By Col. Premium}:thle-

43 01 Illekory. By Hurry Si. Grnrue. 88 Deadwood Dick in Lendviilc. By Edward L.

2%. ’Ii‘he‘xlfhitcdﬁillug. 1Tii‘y Cu”. .iwii‘.  Adams. Wheeler-

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46 The Shadow thp. By Cpl. Pranlius ihxrnhnm.  gr]. Bl:i?::o::‘np:e:fh I? has.“ 5‘ Em"

41’ The Red Brotherhood. By W. J. Humillun. £423.); Glenlon. ; ' e um“ mnpl‘m‘ By

“until”! JMk- B)‘ T- C- “1|”ka 9] Millions Sam. iim King of ﬂu Pininl. By Jon. E.

49 Hurricane Bill. By Map]: E. “mixer, Jr. i-dger, 1-. Reme at. 7.

60 Singié “and. By W. J. Hnmiiinn. 92 Tae gogntn il‘lioodimund. liy Snmurl \V. Pearce.
in C - p

51 Patent-leather Joe. By i‘hili  Wnrne.
’ p 93 Phil Hardy. ihe Buns Buy. By Chariel Morris.
Ready 0c ‘21.

 
6B The Border Robin Hood. By Bun'nio Bili. L

58 “oiiiuiii’y’ "m ““W'h‘mm' "3’ “W” L‘ 94 nﬁunlwgoh "sick as Detective. By E. L.Whoeier.
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54 on up cum". By CAN. J' F' C' Admm' Bendie’s Pocket Library is for uni: by all Newn.

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65 nékmzrre Dkk’ u” Yum“ Rum" m D) 0“ dealers, ﬁve cent: per copy, or lent by mail on receipt. nl‘ nix
56 Mad Tom Welter“. By W. J. ilumiltnn. cents ant-h.

I? Deadwood Dlvk on Deck. By E. L. Wheeler. BEADLE k ADAMS, Publisher-n,
58 Hawkeye liurry. By Oil Coames. 98 Willi-m Street. New York.

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