\\\\\\.\\\\\\\\t\ Mm \ ¥ \ \ \\ 4,},__ “mmx ‘ h _,fl___,_,_, "7 __ ._ .-....nlkawHIusuml|‘ I INIHIIIIHIHI‘H lIHIi § Copyrighted. ‘881, by BILDLI um Alums. Entered at. the P08! Oflice at New York. N. Y‘, as Second Class Mail Matter. Oct. 5.1881 . Published Weekl b Beadle and Adams VOL XVI n.%gg-. No_ 93 szmysrn' NEW You ' £15,503“. N0. I ‘\ \. . _\ \u .. \ CLUTCHING A ROCK ABOVE HER HEAD, sun: LEANED FAR OVER THE GIDDY EDGE AND 5mm '1.“ YOUTH, WHOSE HAND SEEMED ABOUT To REMNQUISH THE 8003.581)! CORD. r '~. \ \ ‘ x " ". "3‘; the latent every . h I - turn my back on ttingBull’s dominions. You I: , 2 The Tenderfoot Trailer. . The Tenderfooi Trailer; Plucky Phil, of the Mountain. BY T. C. HARBAUGH, AUTHOR or “ ARKANSAW,” " CAPTAIN BULLET,” g me, am, mo. ,, CHAPTER I. DESERTED. . “TEAR’S no use talkin’, ards. We’ve got to the end ov the string. luck ar’ a good dog sometimes, but Clo—back shows more sagacity. We've got one-half ov Sittin’ Bull’s tribe be tween us an’ the fort now, the other half hover over us like the angels 0v death. Look at Phil onder standin’ with his back to us. ‘1 don’t Elie to leave the young cap’n in this part ov the keptry, but we must go back or die Whar we ax. .1! These words fell from the lips of a burly fol- low who addressed a group of rough-looking men from the top of a huge howlder among the Big Horn Mountains not far .from Custcr’s ill- fated battle-ground. Apart from the speaker and his little audi- ence, with his back toward them, stood a youth who had scarcely completed his seventeenth year. VH9 was handsome, athletic, and of course determined, for he had turned his back on men whoSe bravery had never been questioned. “ That settles it; they are going to desert me, and I can’t blame them,” he said to himself when the man on the bowlder paused. “ Their term at enlistment has expired, and I have no , fighttoattempt to detain them. Besides, they b ieve in hunt in these mountains a useless one, but shall persevere as long as the moun- tain trail can be found. Let them go back. I came hither to learn the fate of the wagon train or die. I am going to stay.” " Phil?" at this juncture called a rough voice, “ We ar’ goin’ to vote on yer last propersition.” The youth bit his lip, but did not stir. “ Wal, on kin hear, anyhow. Now, paras, all who or in favor 0v acceptin’ the cap’u’s terms an’ golu’ on till the and comes, say I.” _ Not a voice responded. “ Contrar , no. ’ Six no at ves spoken-at once, but in diflerent tones rep led. . “ We go back, pardsl” said the man on the stone, with a. glance at the boy. ' “ Mebbe the , . cap'n will let us say good¥by, but I hope he will go back with us.” . . ' , “I stayl” suddenly cried the youth, whirling n n the six. “ Do not think that I blame you. te is dear to every one. My place is here, yours, perhaps, behind the walls of some Gov- ernment tort. Yes, I will say good-by.” He halted before the bronze men and held out his hand. _ “There! don’t argue the case over again,’7 he said, to them, thus utting a stop to their re- monetIMces. “Unt I shall have ascertained erson in the train I will not / have voted to go back. Be men. Keep your do termination.” The parting scene was soon over, and Phil Steele, or Plucky Phil as the men had namad him, saw the veterans withdraw. The sun had already descended below the to of the mountain at whose base the decision h been reached, and the cool shadows of evening lay around the boy. , At last he was alone; the men whom he had hired at the nearest fort many miles away were going back, leaving him on the menu- gill] trail in the midst of the death-lands of the lawn “ Deserted but free l” cried the tenderfoot trailer, springing upon the rock lately occupied by the leader of the six. own counsels from this time. Advice will no longer be driven into my ears, and my camp will not be cursed by the voice of the grumbler. They were brave fellows, but I believe I can get along without them. I must l” he added, with a smile as he jumped from his perch and picked up the rifle that leaned against the rock. “ I can explore the pass, now,” he said, start- ing off. “It will be a further advance into Sit- ting Bull‘s country, but what do I care? I am here to find or to die !” - These were brave Words from one so young, but Plucky Phil had a right to use them. After an hour’s walk from the place of separa. tion the young trailer reached the mouth of a kind of natural canyon. creeping down the lofty walls, and if night had been an hour nearer, the, center of the pass would have looked loomy indeed. “ For ward l” cried ing the men who had deserted him, and the next moment, with his rifle at full cock, he entered the pass. Far above him towered the bush-covered sides of the canyon, but as he advanced objects be— came more distinct until he had no difficulty in picking his way. “ Here is where the red fiends might have at- tacked the train,” he exclaimed, “ for all could have been butchered in this canyon. I am get— ting close to the fatal slpot. Something tells me this. Great heavens! am here now!” The last sentence dropped from the boy’s lips as he suddenly recalled from an object which his foot was about to strike. andstandin aloof while a shiver of horror crept over his rame, he stared at a human skull, whose grin was as grotesque as it was horrible. Other ‘ objects speedily confirmed Plucky Phil’s exclamation. He had reached the scene of some massacre, for half—burned rts of wagons and bones of horses min ledwi tunate human beings to] the dreadful tale. Not long after his first discovery the moun-' tain trailer stood in the very midst of the scene. “ 1 pm heaven that I, may find some hopeful sign,”fel from his lips. “I wonder if they fought hard. Ah! can I doubt them when they were led b such men as Overland Dick and 01d Policy Here‘the were attacked by a thousand , , wagons they died one by one. All: 1 ml not believe it without proof!” " “ I can follow my ‘ Dark shadows were - Plucky Phil, as if address-. those of unfor- ‘ ioux, no dou t,v'and here amon he , ante-Ed -44... . H gr « own. \‘ ’i ‘ avenged. We fought to the last. The Tender-foot Trailer. 3 He fell to work and overturned or examined every bone and piece of wagon that encounter- ed his gaze. “ I shall bury them when I get through,” he said. “Perhaps, in giving a1 these bones a grave, I may be paying the last tribute to N om. Then vengeance!” Half an hour later he leaned against the wall of the canyon and gazed sorrowfully upon the heap of ghastly relics he had collected. “Ah? he suddenly exclaimed, as his look wandered from the pile. “ One poor fellow at least crept from the awful butcher-pen,” and the next moment he was steeping over the skele- ton of a man which lay thirty foot or more from the spot. After a brief examination of the bones, Plucky Phil was on the point of turning away when the glitter of something beneath the skele- ton hand attracted his attention, and he un- earthed a few inches of a soldier’s bayonet. The point was much worn asthough it had been used on stone, and the youth niechanicall glanced at the canyon wall at the foot of whic the steel had been found. A lot of mountain creepers met his eye but putting out his hand be brushed them aside to utter a cry of discovery. On the stone thus hrr-ughtto view were nu- merous scratches which soon began to assume the shapes of rough letters, and oblivious of his dangerous surroundings, he dropped his rifle and leaned eagerly forward. He seemed to hold his breath while he deciphei‘ed the last work of the dead man’s hand. Letter by letter and word by word the boy trailer mastered the inscription, until at last he reached the end, having read these brief sen- tences: “We Were attacked yesterday by five hundred Sioux. Not one of our party escaped. I am the on] one alive at this moment, and I am dying. No he y may ever see this, therefore, we may never be CAMPBELL." The signature told Plucky Phil that the “ last man” had fallen back from his task exhausted and really dying. He knew Campbell, the leader of the ill-fated train, and a man who deserved a better fate; but notwithstanding the easertion that no one had escaped, a look of doubt remained in the boy’s eyes. “ I will not believe it! I cannot!” he cried. “The trail of a thousand hunters would end here, but mine does not. It only begins. I admit that Captain Campbell on ht to have known all, for he lived till the ay after the massacre, but I am going todoubt his dying words. I will avenge you. captain. Those five hundred Sioux are my bitterest enemies. Woe to their great chiefs if an Indian hatchet touched Fora Dalton’s head that day. They have named mo Plucky Phil, and the time for me to honor that name has come. First, sepal- ture; then, the long hunt and revenge." Under a huge rock which at one place jutted from the canyon wall at its foot, the collected bonegof the poo 16 of the train were laced, and the hands 0 the youthful trailer eaped earth and stones upon them. Then he went back to his rifle. For a. moment he looked toward the end of the ass at which he had entered. then he turned to t e west—toward the unknown lands of the Sioux. “The mountain trail is not yet ended!” he exclaimed sprin ing forward. “ The bones‘I have found wou d have kept the boys at my back. They deserted me a little too soon. But never mind. I am willing to hunt alone.” At that moment the sound of a human voice struck his ear, and he stopped and turned to- ward the eastern mouth of the canyon. “The boys have followed me," he said in a low tone. “ I ought to exhibit nerve and send them back again." No, the six bronze men were notycoming back. “I’ve seen it forty times since, ’Tana,” said the unknown voice; ‘but I can’t make out a letter ’cause I’m no scholar. Mebbe you kin.” Plucky Phil heard these words, and then saw two figures approach the rock bearing Captain Campbell’s insoription. One tore the Vines aside and turned a face of triumph to his companion. “Thar, 'Tann! make it out yerself sf you kin!” he exclaimed. Plucky Phil crouched in the shadows and stared at the pair. CHAPTER II. PHIL snows HIS PLUCK. THE light in the mountain pass was fading fas , and the man called ’Tana was masterin th inscrilption on the rock With no little diflig- culty. Ie was closely watched by the long— ha'ié‘ed athlete whose bronze hand held the vines 8.51 e. “ Can’t on make it out?" asked the latter. “I mig t if the light was stronger, but it's going too fast to help me any. See here, oyote, you know more about their fate than any one in these parts. There! don’t start and say no. The telling of your story will not make us foes. If you did not take any part in the fight, you were there. I know it.” The mountain climbers having dropped from Coyote’s hand. once more covered the letterin on the stone, and Coyote himself had start back and was regarding his companion with a look of indecnsion. The men stood erect and faced each other. “I am waiting for your story,” said ’Tana. “ Go on.” At the same time Plucky Phil caughta threat- ful gleam in his eye as he glanced at the butt 0! the revolver that protruded from his belt. “ I war thar, ’Tana, that's a fuct,”said oyote, . in a forced tone; “ but I didn‘t lift a ban ’in ’em except to try an’ save, an’ thar I fa ed: You see we knowed all along thet the train war comin’. Sittin’ Bull’s scouts kept us posted, an’ long afore the attack took place we knowed all about the party. Hyar the battle took lace—not much ov a battle either, for the Insulin Billed nearly everybody at the first fireu- hen they charged down the pass, but a small number ,' of men led by a lank fellar called Policy Pete gave a volley thet emptied a dozen saddles. But- the next char e the red ni gers got to the wagons, an‘ than t e nsualwor I rode up then to save 8-. young 35.1 What- ad handled xw‘ .— -. 4 The Tender-foot Trailer. a. rifle durin' the hull ’ght like an old trapper, but I couldn’t do it, ’ ana. The young bucks seein’ what I war at turned on me, an’ ei' I hadn’t pulled out, my bones would be yonder with them what they left behind in the fire.” To this narrative "Fans. and the unseen boy had listened with breathless interest. It was intended to give the death blow to long cher- ished hopes. Coyote’s positivencss told this, but his nearest auditor seemed to doubt. “ Are you sure, Coyote, that the girl was massacred after,you left her?” he asked. “She warn’t with us when we went back,” was the significant rejoinder. “ Sittin’ Bull took no prisoners that time. I ought to know, ‘Tana, for I war than" For a. moment ’Tana did not reply, and when he for a second removed his gaze from Coyote’s face, Plucky Phil, who had been watching it in- cessantly, uttered an ejaculation of discoveiy. “ Coyote is lying!” he cried. “ ’Tana, who- ever he is, does not know how to deal with the rascal. The secret of N era’s fate has not been .told. Those squaw-men like Coyote are not all fools. They’d sooner sell a lie on credit than tell the honest truth for cash. There! ’Tana is goin at him again. He doubts still. I wonder » Why e is so interested in the girl who wielded the rifle in this bloody pass that day?” . ’Tana did return to the charge, but Coyote could not or would not tell more about the at— tack on the train. “ I thought the writing on the rock thar might be of some value to you,” he said to Time; “ that‘s why I brought you hyar.” “ It amounts to nothing so far as I can make it out.” Lt I’m .3! “Another lie!” said Plucky Phil to himself. “ Co ote seems to be well supplied with the use- 3111, “ut he’ll sing another song when I get at m _’Tana lost hope at last. Coyote was baffling uh. “I can’t think of my plans as lost ones,” the former said, dejectedly. ' “ I’m afraid you'll hev to, cap’n. Wouldn’t I hev seen the al of she hed been carried off?“ “ It; looks t at way.” “ 0v course! The Government doesn’t know fur sart’in what ever became of the train. Yon- der it lies, ’I‘ana, men, bosses an‘ wagons all mixed together, an’ thar hezn’t been an avenger in these partswnon'e thet I’ve heard ov." “There is one here now!" fell ‘in determined tones from Pluck, Phil’s lips, as he stepped trom the Shadow 0 his rock into the light that r lin ered in the middle of the pass. yote'and ’Tana looked up, caught sight of his figure and sprung to their rifles. “ Lift a weapon and drop dead behind it!” shot‘over the shining barrel of his own rifle. “ I am not here to kill if I, can discover, but my {infers are itchin to touch the trigger of the ri e that covers 8 heart of one who rode with Sitting Bull to the butchery of Campbell and his dpeople. Stand where you are. mountain par 5. You have lied, Coyote. I Want the truth!" _The eyes of the bronzed squaw—man burned , With a tigerish glare. \ O The rifle of the young trailer covered his heart. ' 1" 9;” “Quick—the truthl” continued the boy, im- ii} patiently. “You know that Nora Dalton did . not die that day. You have been lying to ’Tana, your companion, for a purpose. You sell me the same goods and I will pay you in bullets!” ’Tana. was regarding .P ucky Phil with eyes filled with astonishment. They had met for the first time, and as enemies at that. Their hunt for Nora. Dalton could not make them friends. _ . From the boy he glanced at Coyote, who was , l; in a predicament which he did not relish. . 3:; “ Tell him the truth if you have lied to me," he said, in a low tone to the Squaw-man. “ I’ve told the soli tinth,” was the surly an- swer. “ Why should I lie?” The next moment the crack of a rifle resound- ed throughout the mountain pass, and Coyote with a yell of pain, staggered back and drop on the spot where Campbell’s skeleton ad bleached for two years. “Winged, ’Tana!” he eted fiercely, looking up at his companion. “ ive the young wolf a bullet. He’ll bite you one 0v these days of you don’t." I Spurred on by the idea of self-preservation, ’Tanu. turned and raised his rifle, but he found v Plucky Phil standing not twenty feet away with a cocked revolver in his hand. “Go back!” he said sternly to ’Tana. “ Go back beyond where that yellow viper lies. I don’t want your blood, although I may demand an explanation one of these days. You see I have not killed Coyote. A shot throu h the shoulder isn’t a. deadly one. He ma ive to serve you yet. Go back fifty paces, ut first cast your Weapons on the ground, the rifle and figur revolvers. They shall not be lost if you have yourself.” ’Tana bit his lips and flung his weapons on the round; then he moved backward past the help ess Coyote, but shot all the while flashes of vengqeful eye—fire at the boy. ‘ - “ ow. Viper, I want the truth,” exclaimed , Plucky Phil springing to Coyote’s side. The eyes of the crippled squaw-man surveyed him from head to foot before he spoke. . “ What do you want to know?” ~ . “The fate of the girl who fought that day with the rifle. She was not killed. Your 1i deceived ’Tana, but not me.” “You war listenin’, then?” - .- i it Yes.” ' a “ Wal, pard, the gal aren’t dead.” 2- , 2 ' Plucky Phil’s eyes dilated with joy. ' “ Where is she?”7 “ You’ve 0t to find her.” “ What! aware, Coyote. your last trail will end here if on prevaricate.” “film loo in’ fur her myself. Honest Injun, ar . V “ She’s been taken from you, then?” o “ That’s jes’ it." “ By whom?” - “ I don’t know exactly, but I’ve got an idea.” “ Let me have it.” a ' “ Sittin' Bull wanted the gal arter the mas- sacre, not for his wife, mind you, pard, but to help ’11:: in some kind ov a plot ag’in the whites. i» 3‘ ; 1, The Tenderfoot Trailer. a His red warriors tracked me fur months afore they found the gal. She’s gone now; thet’s all know. Ef I war you an’ wanted ’er I’d fol- ler the old Sioux chief himself. I fancy you haven’t made much by wingin’ Coyote, though you’ve l’arned some news. The chap behind me ar’ huntin' Nora, too.” “ ’Tann's” “ Cap’n Montana, er ’Tana fer short. You ttvlvo ngight pool yer issues ef it warn’t fur one in . “ has that?” asked Plucky Phil with burn~ in eagerness. You couldn’t be friends ef you wanted to be,” answered Coyote with a smile. “ Ever hear ov Cap’n ’Tanal” “ Never.” . “ That warn’t his name ten year ago.” “ What was it?" “ Goldboots.” Plucky Phil sprung up with an exclamation that fixed Co ote’s gaze upon him. “ What!” 9 cried. “ My mother’s enemy here fighting me?” A great bound carried him clear over Coyote’s prostrate body, and, revolver in hand, he rushed toward the spot to which Captain ’Tana had re- treated. But all at once he stopped and uttered a cry of disappointment. ’Tana or Goldboots had disappeared. “ Discoveries are made too late," he said. “ The greatest villain on earth has escaped me. I may be compelled to form an alliance with C(Xote,” and he turned toward that worthy. t that moment a series of Indian yells broke the stillness that reigned at the westernmost mouth of the canyon. A bound carried Plucky Phil to Coyote’s side. “ What does that mean?” he cried. “ Injuns, 0v course. Mounted, too." “ I’m in for it now, but I’ll stand my ground.” coyote shot the boy a look of admiration. “ lean grit, by hokey l” he exclaimed. “Pick up my revolver, boy; then you’ll hev two; but be careful who you shoot of they ar’ Injuns. Thar’s sart’in to be a tall red—skin in the gang who may turn out the best friend a boy in yer fix ever had. Don’t kill him of you want to win in this mountain game.” Even if Coyote had not concluded, the youth could have listened no longer, for a score of mounted Sioux had dashed into view. With two revolvers thrust forward, Plucky Phil :1me the onset. He could not escape discovery, and he might as well open the ball. A minute later the first red rank saw him bracedand defiant in the canyon path, and as the whole band discovered him, the two deadly revolvers began the conflict. “lnever ran! Inever will!" grated the boy, as his fingers set the triggers in motion. CHAPTER III. pomcr PETE. STUNNED and confused by the deadly work of Plucky Phil’s revolvers, the Sioux fell back. .“ The tall, slim red-skin—donlt drop him!” admonished Coyote from the ground. “ You’ll 1:650:31] afore the mountain trail ends er I’m a “ I don’t see him,” said Phil. , “ Mellbe you’ve dropped ’im already. Ef you hev, boy—’ Phil broke the sentence with an exclamation of surprise, for out from the Indian ranks had dashed a single horseman who was about to run him down. Instantly the two revolvers went upward again and the days of the reckless rider might 7 have ended there and then if Coyote’s voice had not checked the boy. . “ Don’t, youngster; let ’im come on. He is the tall Injun refarred to. and stand aside.” Phil obeyed. A moment later the superb horse ridden by the slim red-skin was at his side, and the hand that closed on his shoulder lifted him from the ground. “ I told ye so,” cried Coyote, witnessing the feat. “ 1’11 see you later, boy. I like your grit, buvt I owe you a. blood-debt which I’ll hev Plucky Phil did not hear the squaw-man’s last sentence, for the Indian’s horse was hearing him eastward down the canyon. Out from the mountain gulch dashed the horse, into the grayish twilight that had suc- ceeded the day. The mountain trailer still clung to the two revolvers, his only weapons, for his sudden journey had caused him to leave his rifle behind. ’ How could his fate be in the hands of his painted Captor? In what manner were their lives to be united? Once beyond the canyon, Plucky Phil began to scrutinize his captor’s face. The painting of it was ludicrous in the extreme, and not of that kind so frequentl seen among the warriorsof the Sioux nation. he Indian’s dress was nearly half “civilized,” and, altogether, after an in- spection of several minutes while he was carried on, Plucky Phil concluded that he had been stu‘d ing apuzzle—a human enigma. hoal Rocket!" suddenly cried the Indian in atone which dilated Phils gray eyes. “It ain’t my {folicy to travel all night, an’ no piece ov horse esh in the Big Horn hills knows that better nor you. By hookeyl baby pard, what confounded (policy brought you out hyar?’ Phil coul not stammer a repl . His 100]: was an impertinent stare, seeing w ich a smile became visible at the corners of the Sioux’s mouth. “ What yer lookin’ atP’he asked. war a. photograph machine my picture’d' ev been taken a ore this.” , “ You are Policy Pete!" cried the boy. “ By hokeyl you wouldn‘t starve et' you her! to guess for a livin’,” was the answer. “The an- atomy now before you b’lon s to Policy Pete. Policy is policy at all times. ’m an Injun now an’ hev been for nigh two ears, er ever since I crawled from the train nig er dead than alive." Plucky Phil could not repress an exclamation of delight. Lower your bulldogs ‘ . V “Ef on , * " I know now why Coyote told me to spar;- the tall, slim Indian,” he said. “ You are my friend, because I am hunting for Nora Dalton. “ You hyar alone lookin’ fur that gall" cried old Policy. “ Mebbe she’s dead.” 6 The Tender-foot Trail er. “ No, she is not !” quickly cried the youth. “ I forced the truth from Coyote after having given him a bullet in the shoulder. Ah! we shall hunt Nora together; we Wlll stand by each other, and from what I’ve heard of you, I am not afraid to trust you in anything.” Policy Pete’s eyes seemed to sparkle with sat- isi'action. “One 0v yer bullets clipped a lock ov my ha’r back yonder,” he said. “ I (‘ould hev finished you, but that wouldn’t have been ood policy. Afore we talk let us go down this li tle pass. I know a place, an’ then I want to it some 0’ this Injun paint of! my carkiss. llus hev a policy: that 5 my doctrine.” Guided by the old guido’s hand the horse turned into a gloomy trail which led the strange air to the foot of a mountain where Plucky Phil slid to the ground to be followed by Policy etc. A full moon creeping over the tons of some trees of the mountain-side bathed the halting- plaCe in a weird silvery beauty, and the young trailer watched his companion bathe his face in a spring that bubbled near by. “ Fortune smiles at last,’ he murmured, to himself. “ She has brought me face to face with Policy Pete, the guide of Campbell’s train. With him for an ally I shall succeed!” When the lank guide turned from the spring and revealed his face Phil was inclined to smile. It still looked like an Indian’s so far as colorihg was concerned; mountain air and mountain suns had more than bronzed it. In the moon- light it looked almost black. “ Not ez purty ez a chrome,” remarked Policy, noticing the boy’s look. “ Don’t keep in the shade to save yer corn loxion. That's my licy. I war three wce's among the Sioux, an’ nigh Sittin’ Bull’s headquarters, afore their keenest eyes thought I war somebody besides a squaw-man, an’ consequently a white-hater. Sittin’ Bull himself would hev hed a fit ef he had dreamed that one ov the guides ov Camp- bell’s train hed escaped, an‘ war within smell- in’ distance ov his flesh— >ots. I war carryin’ out a. policy, kee in’ sti 1 an’ playin’ squaw- man, but at last I flood the tribe ez a half-breed from the Mussel Shell region, an’ they took me in, policy an’ all, an’ never asked for my pedi- gree.” Polic Pete paused to laugh over the recollec- tion of his successful ruse. “ But Captain Campbell wrote on the rock that all were killed,” said the youth. “ DidI eh? Mebbe he thought so, but when I crawled out from the hurnin’ wagons hacxed and shot. I looked like a fellar Whose policy had about expired. It war a time—a time, boy, but I won’t tell about it hyar. You must tell me all about yeraslf. Ef you hev a policy, 1 want to know it.” Plucky Phil did not hesitate, hut told the old guide how he had led. or rather followed, Slx men into the mountains on a hunt for the miss- . ing train, but especially for Nora Daltonha oung friend of his who had accompanied 1t. fie narrated their adventures from the day of departure from the nearest Government fort to the desertion of the six, and continued his own up to the battle in the canyon. “New, yer policy?” said the guide, when Phil paused. The youth blushed and smiled. “ I need hardly mention that I love Nora," he said. “Love has brought me to this place. My policy is to hunt for her till I find her—now that know she lives—and then rescue her if she is in danger.” “ In danger?” echoed Policy Pete; she is in danger. I know that much. Thar’s but one livin’ erson in this kentry who knows exactly whar era is, an’ he won’t tell.” ‘ “ He shall tell!” cried Phil. “ You an’ I will force the secret from him, Policy l” “ Now ye’r’ gittin’ off,” was the reply. “ Wait till I talk about thet fellcr with the secret. In the first place, he runs the machine in these parts: he kin call ten thousand warriors into the field; he lifts his hand an’ an army like Cus- ter’s is wi ed out. He’s a wolf an’ a snake com- bined. e kin crush er tear, jest ez he likes.” You mean Sitting Bull himself?” “ The clothes fit ’im. don’t they?" was the re— ply. “ I mean Sittin’ Bull, an Injun who knows the value ov a policy, fur he hesn’t been without one fur forty years. He‘s workin’ up one now what will rove a big bonanza fur him, an’ Nora. is to help im.” H 0 7 “Factl I ’lowed you’d be surprised. Sittin’ Bull knows whar Nora Dalton is. her from the train an’ kept her a long time, but Sittin’ Bull’s red detectives ferreted her out, an’ Coyote found the nest empty one mornin’. Yes, pard, ef you want Nora. you must ask the Sioux wolf for her; but do you think he’ll give ’er up?” Plucky Phil’s e as flashed. _ “Time shall te 11” he exclaimed. “ I say that Sittin Bull shall tell me the truth. I forced it from oyote in the canyon. I will wring it from the Indian king.” “ Complete yer policy first,” said the guide looking calmly at him. “ Where is Sitting Bull now?” “ On the Big Horn.” “ Come, then! We have rested long enough. You are oing to stand by me. So I must wrest a secret mm the reatJndian chief of the West before I can find oral I accept the task! I didn’t think it would come to this when I started on my mission; but the ten thousand braves led by Sitting Bull do not daunt me.” These sentences fell calmly from Plucky Phil‘s IilIIJS. His eyes sparkled as he spoke, that was a Pete. “ We can’t get along without one. “ I’ve formed mine.” “ Well?” “We will go to Sitting Bull’ cam , and at the muzzle of the revolver, I’ll force t e secret from the killer of Custer and his men 1" Policy Pete uttered an exclamation of aston— ishment. “ Thet means death I” he said. “ Then death it shall be! I shall go alone—” “ Not while Policy Pete ar’ in the nei hbor- hood,” was the interruption, and the roam hand of the old guide fell assurineg upon Plucky Phil’s shoulder. Coyote saved I i‘ We‘ll make a policy on the journey’,”,said i . ,h‘ “mm M cw ' Tenderfoot Trailer. '3 If the friends at that moment had glanced up the slope of the mountain they might have caught sight of a pair of eyes and a triumphant 1" 81.08 destined to seriously interfere with their p ans. 1 But they saw it not, and when they turned their faces toward Sitting Bull‘s camp, a human fl uro ore t panther-1i he in their wake. t was oldboots. CHAPTER IV. IN. SITTING BULL’s CAMP. “ WAL, hyar we ar’ Plucky. Down yonder is the lion’s den. Look a minute, an’ tell me of you feel like enterin’.” The speaker was Policy Pete, and, while he looked at the boy who stood at his side in the mountain trail, his long arm pointed downward toward ascene not unfrequently witnessed in the Big Horn country. The sun was setting behind the trees at their backs, but light enough remained to enable the oung trailer’s eyes to note the beautiful valley low dotted with the grotesque tepees of the red-men. Groups of horses were visible at the edge of the great camp, and here and there moved the stately forms of their lawless masters. Sittin Bull’s camp was before Plucky Phil. “Dont go off half-cocked,” continued Old Policy, watching his oung friend, who as re- garding the scenein ' ence. “ Takeag look at the hair ov the red lion. A'man what goes down thar fur bizness must hev a clean-cut policy. Look toyer heart’s content, Plucky, an’ don’t answer me till ye’r’ ready.“ “The sight is enough to daunt some, Pete,” the boy said, facing his companion; “but the secret is yonder. That decides me.” “Jest ez I expected. Now let me strike a licy. I'll go down an’ reconnoiter; you stay Egan I’ll bring back su’thin’ about Sittin’ Bull, never fear! He war hyar four days ago.” “ Go, Pete i” cried the youth. “ I want to get to work. I will wait for you here.” Five minutes later, in the (lee ning shadows of the mountain—side. Plucky hi1 was alone, but the Indian camp was still visible. Policy Pete had vanished. ’ The old guide was not unknown in the Sioux camp. A hundred times since his escape from the massacre of the canyon, he had ridden across its boundaries, now in the ranks of the Indians, and now with the bronze squaw-men who came and went whenever they pleased. He knew that the band, faced and shot into by Plucky Phil in the canyon had not returned to the camp, therefore his strange rescue of the boy had not been made known to Sitting Bull. He did not attempt to steal into the great vil- lage. On the contrary, he entered boldly, greeting in a rough voice several old acquaint- ances who lounged in the cooling shadows of evening. Darkness found Policy Pete in the center of the camp. More than one Sioux dog had snuff- ed at his heels and eyed him suspiciously, but he kept on like a man with a mission. All at once his well known name was spoken on his left, in a low voice to be sure. but to ,Pete it sounded like the hoarse boom of a can- non. He thought a second before he turned, and said to himself: “ Don’t furgit yer policy, Pete.” Then he faced the speaker whose figure, not uite as tall as his, did not look much like a gioux’s. - “ I might have called you Aggawam, yer Ip- jnn name ” said the same voice as a hasty stride brought its owner to Policy’s side. “ We’ve all got red-skin handles, you know. 0v course you know me now.” “ Coyote!" cried Old Policy. Foramoment the two men confronted each other in the faint light of the thousands of stars that glittered above the Sioux camp. The Ilneleting seemed to delight Coyote—it annoyed o icy. ’ , “ Whar’s the youngster, Pete?” suddenly asked the squaw-man. “ Oh, the boy I jerked from the ound in the canyon? I wish you’d go an’ fin ’im, Coyote. You’ve heard ov eels in yer time, hevn’t you! Wal, he’s one.” Did not the searching eyes of Coyote call Policy Pete a liar while he spoke? The seemed to con- tain anything but a look of or uli . 1' ‘f‘ He got away, then?” he said, eigning bo- le . “ Sl ped through my hands like a weasel, an’ i afore f could find out who he war an‘ what, brou ht 'im hyar. He winged you, eh?” “ n the shoulder. Thet’s why I’m hyar, Pol- icy. The plagued thing doesn’t heal ez briskly ' 62 I’d like to hev it do. I knowed you when saw yer shadder. I’ve ke t yer secret fur two years, but Sittin’ Bull oesn’t dream about on. . Policy Pete started at the emphasis, and the eyes of the two men met. , “ You’ve been lookin’ for the gal ever since the massacre,” said Coyote. “ I’ve knowed it all along, an" while I kept her hid from Sittin’ Bull, I watched you like a hawk, fur you wasn‘t play; in" Sioux an squaw-man fur nothin’. Theo chief’s outwitted both of us, Policy. How does thet strike you?” Coyote stepped back a pace and watched Policy Pete with an amused expression of oounr tenance. “He must hev the best policy,” was the old guide’s answer. “But we needn’t discuss such matters hyar. I’m back to stay awhile. I’ll see you in the mornin’, Coyote; that is, of you ar’ goin’ to play fair. You want the chief’s se- cret. Without me you kin never git it. Never 1” Old Policy was moving away, when Coyote bounded forward. “ We kin git it tonight—you and me,” he ex- claimed. ‘ Pete shot him a searching look, not-unmixed with astonishment. “ Sittin’ Bull is alone in the big white tepee. A hand at his throat an’ a revolver at his head will tear the secret from him.” “That’s a poor policy” said Pete, quickly. _ “ 1 kin do better than the ” “ Wall” “ I‘ll go down an’ tell him kinder m sterimmly thet the gal hez disap ared. He w 0 an' see- for himself of he 3w Tollered.” ' with? but. ekinhe \ ‘1" Policy , cover from his sur rise when the red hand of 8 The Tenderfoet Trailer. “ I like the plan. Shell we work together, Policy?” ’ ngote was extending his hand tothe gaunt i 0. Eu“ We’ll shake arter the work, not afore it. That’s never been my policy,” said Pete, refus- ing the rofllered hand. ‘I’ll go an’ tell the ‘lie,” he ded, with a smile. “ Kin you hev two . bosses ready. Coyote?” “ I’ll hev them ready. ” , “ At the, old rock." '- “I’ll be thar.” The two worthies separated, and Policy Pete, walking away, glanced over his shoulder at Go ate, but he had alread disappeared. e ‘ big white tepee’ of Sitting Bull was known to every visitor to, and tenant of the camp on the Big Horn. From it the red king of the great red nation of the Northwest had rid— den to Custer’s last battle—ground, and back again to its secret interior he had carried tro— p ies of that memorable engagement. A short walk brought Policy Pete in sight of the structure, which occupied the middle of a rough square, and was Sixty yards from the nearest Wigwam. During his walk he had coined his story to the smallest articular, and confident that he would succeed, e stepped up to the tent and grasped the curtain that formed the door. The next instant a figure darted from the dark ground just around the curve of the tepee and with the force of a tiger dashed against the old ide, who went back under the assault. A the same time atyell loud enough to pene— trate to the confines o the Sioux camp out the air, and fifty human figures sprung into the square from each of its four sides. “Stan’ oifl l kin hold ’im!” exclaimed the voice of Policy’s assailant, whose left hand held the guide‘s throat with a gripe that threatened to sever his windpipe. “You ar’ 9. purty set 0v Injunsl When the fox is caught you’re allus reality to fight fur the hide. No, sir-eel I hold my 0): till Sittin’ Bull comes." ‘ Sitting Bull is here!” / Sure enough the imposing figure of the war- ohief of the ioux stood before Old Policy’s cap- tor, and the next moment the lank guide was hustled toward the chief. The merciless hand at his throat was paralyzing every nerve. “ Hyar‘s a snake fur you to kill,” said the cap tor to the chief. “ Look at ’im. You’ve Seed ’iin afore, Bull. He’s playin’ Injun an’ Squaw- man ‘ist ez it suited ’im ever since we struck Camp llan’ his train in the dee gulch. He’s the tall scout what helped Stanley a ong through the Yellowstone kentry—Policy Pete! I found ’im sneakin’ into yer tent. He war oin’ to find the white al an’ thet at he bed to ho d his revolver at yer eart. Take ’im, chief.” Pete, suddenly released, had not re- Sittln Bull clutche his arm. “ ite scout speak," commanded the chief. " Inone minute,” said Pete, clearing his throat. “ Honesty is the best policy when it wins. But I want a word with Coyote first.” He broke from Sitting Bull’s gripe and started toward Coyote whose eyes danced triumphantly above his bronze cheeks. Emu-ii “I war a fool to trust you,” he said. “I might hev knowed thet alone hunt war the best policy. You made the net when you first saw me. Wal, laugh while you kin, Coyote. I’m goin‘ to laugh last!” “ You, one of Custer’s scouts, lau h when Sittin’ Bull is through with you?" crie Coyote. “ I wouldn’t give a fox pelt fur er chances to see the sun rise in the mornin’. on war goin’ to kill Sitting Bull fur the white gal." The last sentence was intended for ears other than Policy’s. It brought the Indian king for- ward With a cry of ven eance but the old guide held him off with his is t han . “Policy is policy,” fell from his lips as his revolver leaped from his belt, and before Coyote could divine his intention he was staggering from the deadly flash that lit up the savage square. “ Thar! I’ve done you a service, chief,” said Pete turning to Sitting Bull. “Sparin’ vipers like Coyote is ’tarnal poor policy.” CHAPTER V. s'rmKING A TRAIL. THE faint echoes of Old Policy’s revolver reached the ears of the boy keeping watch on the dusky mountain slope that overlooked the Indian camp. They seemed to tell him that some misfortune had befalleu the lank guide, and, as the hours wore away without bringing him back, Plucky Phil became convinced that something had gone wrong. i “ Policy would not have deserted me ” he said aloud. “ I will stand 1) him,” and 00k- ing to his revolvers, one of w ich he held in his right hand, he left his post, and began to go down the mountain. He discovered as he neared the Sioux village or camp, that it was far from being uiet, and while he slipped from shadow to s ow in the vain hope of finding Policy Pete, he noticed flit- ting figures that commanded more than casual attention. All at once he came suddenly upon a grou of men whose dress as he saw it in the starl ght told him at once that they were the treacherous Squaw-men of the West. It was well for Plucky Phil that he crouched and hugged the ound when he did, for the eyes of the bronze allows might have caught sight of him. ‘ Sittin’ Bull ar’ gom‘ to turn ’im loose,” said one. hedn’t shot Coyote when he did, he’d hev found the gal, an’ then that big bonanza would hev disappeared like smoke. “ Coyote’s over yonder tussling with death. ' I , couldnt sarve ’im any longer—nobody ' km. The bullet went crashin’ through his face. ‘ That’s what a feller gits fur doin the chief a service.” Plucky Phil heard all this and knew that some oue-—Old Policy, in all probability—mad finished Coyote’s career. The person whom Sitting Bull was about to “ turn loose ” according to the squaw-man must be the guide. He waited to hear no more, but left the angry Eroup and glided sway hoping to find Sitting ull whose presence he thought would not be far from Policy Pete. “ He’s convinced the old chief that if he - HAt—kl-lfl' » {Sign—ii : D '26 w vvvww l The Tenderfoot Trailer. 11 So the handsome figure of Captain ’Tanu. con- tinued to remain motionless beside the tree. He might have touched Coyote by 1 utting forth his hand, and certain it is that he heard every groan of pain that \velled from the squaw— man’s heart. All at once Coyote littered a terrible oath and almost fell from the rock upon which he had artiully drawn his figure. “ ‘Vhere is Rosa?” he exclaimed. “ If she doesn’t come soon I‘ll pass in my chips afore I kin mount my boss.” Montana saw that the man on the rock was wrestling with death. “ I allus ’lowcd that death would never give me a fair deal,” he grated, looking at the dark stain now on the starlit rock—his own blood. “ If Rosa did come back now she couldn’t help me. I’m at the end 0V my string; in other Words, Coyote, death rakes in the biggest pot ov the game ov life.” . The man rolled from the stone and lay on hls back with his face upturned to the stars. His hands clutched the ground in his agony. Montana sprung forward, and as he bent over Coyote, the eyes of the two men met. “ You?” cried the squaw-man, attempting to shrink away. “ You want to know whar the gal is? You wouldn’t try to be my avenger. " _ “ By Heaven, I will, Coyote!” said Captain ’Tana. “ First, tell the truth about Nora. Dal- ton, and I’ll hunt your Slayers down.” “No! arter you had found the gal, you’d go back an7 be Goldhoots the Pacific Nubob ag’in,” said Coyote, turning his head away. “ I wouldu’tl—I swea r——” “ I’ll tell Rosa, not you l” was the interrup— tion. “ I’ll put her on Nora’s trail an’ leave you to find it. The person what will not avenge me must hunt fur the gal on his own hook. Be- sides, you’ll be hunted like a mad-dog afore many days." “ By whom?” “ By one who found only a few hours ago thet you war Goldboots. an’ ef thet person hesn’t got a big account ag’in’ you, then Sittin’ Bull doesn’t like rum.” “ You betrayed me, then?” The rapidlyvgluncing eyes of Coyote shot Mon- tana. a look of defiance. “ I told him thet your old name war Gold- boots!” A curse fell from Captain ’Tann’s lips, and his hands darted like the talons of a vulture at the squaw-man’s throat. " “You’ll hev to tighten your grip of you beat the bullet!” grated Coyote grimly. “Gods! I Willi” A gurgle and a gasp followed the exclama- tion, and the marl eyes of Montana saw death put an end to Coyote’s career. His hands were still at the throat of the man beneath him when he heard the neigh of a. horse, and looking up he saw Rosa, the Sioux girl, leading two steeds. V‘He had time to leap up when the red maiden saw him and drew back. “ She mustn’t escape me. She may already know the secret!" fell from his lips, and the next ' instant he darted forward, clutched the girl’s arm, and continued: “ Go yonder and look at Coyote. I tried to keep life in him till you came back, but death wouldn’t let me.” With a cry that seemed to fill her eyes with flashes of fire, Rosa dropped the leathern bridles ‘ of the horses and sprung to Coyote’s side. There he lay, staring at the stars, dead l She knelt over him with woman‘s tenderness. and seemed about to imprint a kiss on his bloody face, when she was seen to start as though a serpent had hissed under the Squaw- man’s head. Had she seen the finger-prints on the throat? She wheeled upon Captain Tenn, and with finger pointing to Coyote, asked in a strange voxce: “ White brother here when Coyote die! What he sa about Rosa——what word him leave?” “ e said that we should hunt the white girl together,” said Montana, through whose brain a. certain idea. had flashed like a beam of light. “ We shall be friends and help one another, Rosa.” “ Coyote say so?” “Yes. I am going to hunt the man who sent the bullet- into his face.” N “ And the boy, too?” “ May I die if I forget one whom I have cause to hate!” was the answer. “ Who are you, White man?" Rosa asked. “ I am Captain Montana, but you shall know more of me by and by. Are you ready for the trail now?“ . Rosa sent a look toward the silent man on the ground, then went toward the horses. “ Rosa is ready to hunt for the white girl who stole Coyote’s heart!” she flashed. Montana started at the look that filled her eyes as she spoke the sentence. “ I must watch her,” he murmured. “She hunts Nora Dalton to kill her. I have linked my fortunes for the resent to those of an In— ‘ dian Jezebel; but shall prove able to thwart her when I have used her awhile. Now,” to Rosa, “let us be off.” He was already in the rather comfortable In- diansaddle which the Sioux girl had placed on one of the horses for Coyote, and Rosa was at his side. But the hand of the red princess, instead of taking up the rein, fell on his arm, and their eyes mot. “Just before Coyote died a. snake crawled across his throat!” she said slowly. Montana recoiled with an exclamation of her- ror. He almost lost his balance. “ Rosa will forget the crew] of the snake,” she continued, without abating her fiery look; “she will not slay the serpent if he hereafter crawls for her.” “Now, more than ever, must I watch this v scarlet viper.” thought Goldboots. The next moment they were 011?. CHAPTER VII. ROSA WIELDS A TOMAHAWK. “I MUST confess that one cannot et nlon well in this Indian land without he ,” sai Plucky Phil, who stood in the earliest light of. the next day on the summit of a mountain spur which he had ascended for the purpose of ob- _. u. {i ! “harm”... .y :N‘JC'“ - ward ._.,.»..-.-. a The Tender-foot Trailer. “i? taining a view of the country by which he was surrounded. “ Perhaps I had better have re- mained at my post on the mountain-side, but the si ht of that red-skinned dwarf riding to- ora fired me with eagerness to follow him, and here I am. The red Caliban is far away: his horse has carried him to Nora, and I am here, as far from the fruition of my hopes as ever. I have made hundreds of new enemies since I invaded Sioux-land. and gained but one friend, but his fate, alas! is unknown to me!” While the youth’s words might indicate de- spair, he was far from giving up, although he was horseless on the mountain. He had followed Sitting Bull’s directions only to discover that the Sioux king had purposely deceived him—that he stood far from Nora Dal- ton, and in the center of a country which might prove a death-trap. “ I cannot stand here and look and think!” he exclaimed. “ I shall retrace my steps until I find the hoof-prints of the dwarf’s horse. R'iin has fallen lately, thank Heaven! and the moun- tain passes will betray the Ape.” He went down the mountain and turned his face once more toward Sitting Bull’s village. He still had a right to be caliod Pincky Phil. The sun came up over the jagged spurs of the Big Horn range and revealed the passes which the boy was compelled to thread. His eyes were constantly examining the ground. All at once he started and dropped on his knees. Before him were the unmistakable prints of boots. Plucky Phil’s eyes dilated as he gazed, but a puzzled expre