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Copyrighted. 1886, by meu AND Anus. Entered n the Po“ Oflice at New York, N. Y., as Second Clue Mull Matter. Aprll H. 1888. >

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V01. XI $2.50 Publlshed Weekly by Beadle and Adams, Price, ~ No. 

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STROKE AMER STROKE FELL QUICKLY, DEALT WITH ALL THE VIGon OF HIS ARM, om‘SEOVLDERS,
HEAD, AND FACE OF THE CROUCHING AND WINNING VICTIM.

 

Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

 

W111 Wildfire,

THE THOROUGHBRED ;

on.
THE WINNING HAND.

BY CHARLES MORRIS.
Amos or “WILL senses,” “ PHIL HARDY," arc.

CHAPTER I.
' m SOHUYLKILL NAVY momma.

Tn wind was northwest. It needed no weather-
vane to prove this. nor even the sailor‘s traditional
wet-finger: for the flag that hall~dl~ooped, and half-
revealed its starry field. on the steamer Wissa-
hickon. and the lo streamer that stretched lazily
from the mast-hes. of the starting boat, plainly
indicated a faint nor’wester, strong enough to cool
the September air, but not to unduly ruffle the
river‘s surface.

The silvery Schuylkill was crowded with boats of
all sha. and sizes.

0n 6 sloping and wooded banks of the stream
stood a host of iookers—on, man drawn there by the
more excitement of seeing a oily-contested race.
others eager advocates of the various competing

crews.

For it was the fall regatta of the Schuylkill navy,
and all those with a taste for good rowing, or a pas-
sion for sport, had gathered to witness what was
likely to be one of the events of the sporting season.

It wasgrowing late in the afternoon. The declin-
ing sun sent his long beams slanting through the

. thick—clustered woods of the East Park. Several
races eady been rowed. and three crews of
four-cared barges had ust broken from the " st rt "
at the Falls Bridge, an were rapidly darting down
the wide. straight stream.

The excitem nt of the start over, the spectators

thered in knots to discuss the probable result and

talk over the race yet remaining.

This was to be the event of the a . a hot contest
between the two crack oarsmen of t e navy. a sin-
gle-shell race which would decide the question of the
championship for the year.

An . although the or we themselves rowed for'
honor, not for/ ain. yet bets were freely oflered and
taken among t e spectators. “

” Two to one on the Vestal" cried a sturdy, mut-
ton—cho whiskered erson. attired in a. light plaid
suit an with a decl edliy English cast of features.

“ n‘t make your 0d s quite so heavy.” retorted
a scornfully-smiling b stander. “Jae Boyle. of
the Iris. is not going to e rowed down quite so eas-
ily as ou think."

“ I’ wager that Huntley distances him. Hang it,
if any gentleman wants to bet, I‘ll make an even-up
olfer that he leads him a good boat’s-length at the
close. And here‘s the stuif to back my words.”

He excitedly flourished a handful of bank-notes as
he spoke, and looked with an air of disgust over the
quiet throng. ,

" Well, now,” he exclaimed. superciliously. " I
m pose that is what you callAmsrican s iritl Why,
if was in old England, at the Derby. 1‘ he snatch-
ed up before I got ten words out-ii it were for a
thousand pounds."

“It is lucky, then. you are not in old England. or
you mightbeout of pocket,” spoke a clear-toned.
self-assured voice on the edge of the mass. “113

,you want to challenge all America, I am your lad,
from a. dime to a cool thousand. Just consider
your;l b'et taken-and you can tell me what it is after-
war .

All turned to look at the speaker. who had just
walked up tothe throng. They were surprised at
his youth In appearance, for he seemed a mere boy.

.

 

or at least at that indefinite, unwhiskered age is
which boyhood merges into manhood. But his
handsome face, and open. engaging expression, at
once took all eyes, while his tal , well-rounded.
graceful figure seemed fitted at once for athletic
sports and for social enjoyments. He was dressed
in a light. well-fitting suit. while a taste for ornament
was shown in the flash of a diamond in his scarf-pm,
and in the solitaire ruby that burned redly upon a
finger of his left hand.

"How’s that?" cried the English sport. in a sur-
prised tone. “Haven‘t you any favorite? l’m for
the Vesta boat. high and drg'."

“ And I am for America. 0t and heavy." retorted
the youth, as he pushed into the mass of people.
“ Name your bet. I'll cover it."

The sport eyed him dubioust for a minu‘e. run-
ning his eyes from head to foot of his outhful an<
tagonist, with a somewhat scornful am” e curling his

lip.

“ Well, will I do?" asked the youth. quietly.
“Sev‘enty inches, from head to foot, is my mea-
sure. ’

" See here, young fellow,” returned the other. a
little warmly. “i ain‘t much in the habit of betting
with boys. And I don‘t bot marbles. or half-penny
pieces. Maybe you’d best carry your pigs to a
cheaper market."

“I thought so." the youth quietly replied. “ Blus-
ter is cheap. But you are not the man to back your
blow with cash. I’ll go from five dollars to fifty on
the Iris, and fgive you a boat-length‘s grace.“

“ Five to fl tyi” cried the sport. scornfully. “ Say
five hundred, and there'll be some inducement for a
gentleman to see you. Here‘s an even five hundred
that the Vesta shall beat the Iris. Is there a man
here with the heart to take it?“ He turned away ‘
from the youth as if he had finally settled him.

“ I will take that bet." the latter quietly answered.

“ You .9“ in a. tone of surprise.

“ Yes, mel“ was the angry rejoinder. “See here,
my friend, if I don’t wear side-whiskers. and a
wrinkle in my nose, my money is as good as yours.
You’ve thrown a slur on Americans; and i’ll be
hanged if you haven’t to stand by your bet now-—or
slink out.“

“All right. my covey." replied the sport. with a
look of more respect for his young challenger.
“ Plank up the needful. Here's my materials.“

The youth replied by pulling out a well-filled
pocket. ok. and quickly counting some crisp bank
notes of large denomination.

“That the Iris beats the Vesta by a boat‘s length.
That’s my bet.” he remarked. “ And here’s the
stuff to back it.”

“ Correct. And the boat that backs down from
rowin is best ”

“I on‘t think there will be much back down,"
rejoined the youth. “ Huntly and B nylc are not of
flat sort. But youcan make it so. I am agree-
o e.’

A well-known member of one of the boat clubs was
selected as stake-holder. and the bet made.

But the keen eyes of the young man had noticed a
peculiar expressmn upon the face of his competitor.
a sort 0t repressed triumph, which made him think
there mlgh .poss1bly be some trick concealed in the
tonne of this wager. Why did he hint at aboat‘s
backing down?

“It‘s a deuce of a bad business." 31201“! I1 Demo“
who at this instant came up to the circle. addressing
the stake-holder. "The best match we‘ve had for
five years clean spoiled."

“ Spousal What do you mean?
wrong?” ,

“ Why. where in the world have you been that you
haven’t heard? Everybody‘s wild about it. Jack .
Boyle has lipped and given his wrist a bad sprain.
Huntly has only got to walk over the course."

“The thunder you sayl And here I Molding ‘
the stakes for a five hundred bet on the race. Is the »
wager ofl, gentlemen?"

Is anything

 

 

'.

. Aye-V‘Wguwmflmfi. . ‘

 

 

.-. ~4fi77’:w in r

Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. 8

 

“ om Not much!" replied the Englishman sneer-
ingly. "It’s a square bet, and it stands. I‘ve got
nothing to do with Jack Boyle’s wrist."

“ Did you know this before on oflered the bet?”
asked the youth quietly but With a snap in his eyes.
and a red spot in each c eek."

“What has that got to do with it?” rejoined the
sport. sarcastically. “I offered my money 6 uare-
ly. "It's a square bet; and I reckon I‘ll rake n the
plunder."

“Maybe you will; but I reckon not," quietly an-
swered the youth.

“ I leave it to the referee."

“ I am afraid ou have lost, young man." said the
stake-holder. ‘ The Iris seems to be out of the
race."

“ What is the hour for this race?”

“ Five o‘clock."

“ And it is only half-past tour now. Will any gen-
tleman present explain this conundrum; how a race
can be lost before Ihe hour for rowing it?“

“ That's sol" cried several voices.

” The bet was not on Huntly and Boyle, but on the
Iris and Vesta boats.”

“Vci' true,” acknowledged the stake-holder.

“Am it don‘t matter a pin who rows the Iris. so
that she comes in ahead.“

"Nobody said it did.” rejoined the Englishman
with a sneering laugh.

“ All i-i ht. my friend. The Iris is not out ol.’ the
race till t e hour is past. You had better save your
crow till you are out of the woods.”

The speaker walked away with a light. springy
step. every 0 e following his graceful figure as it
moved tower the group of boatmen near the start-
ing- int of the race.

“ hat in the blazes docs he mean?“ asked the
astounded Englishman. “Jack Boyle is past row-
ing, and there is not a man in the State that can

[handle an oar against Hun t] y.”

Meanwhile the youth had joined the group of
boatmen. and was eagerly talking with them.

And as the half-hour short of the time fixed for
the race were on. certain significant movrinents
were observed. Could it be that Jack Boyle. was
going to attempt the raco with a sprained wrist? It
seemed incredible. yet no one could otherwise ex-
plain the rumor that was spreading through the
crowd, that the race was to be rowcd.

“ It will be a clean walk over for Huntly. anyway,”
said the English snort. "‘ I wonder that Jack Will
make such an exhibition of himself.

But it was not Jack Boyle. that tall. trim, athletic
figure that stepped from the boat house. (in ssed in
crimson fights and cap, and with the knotted mus-
cles swelling on his bar-ed and powerful arms.

He was at least two inches taller. and walked with
a lig’létness very different from Jack’s sturdy tread.

“ he can he be?" was the question that passed
from mouth to mouth. ‘

The betting Englishman uneasin pressed forward
and gazed inquiringly into the young man's face.

“Well. I’ll be eternally rack-strawedl” he cried.
with a start of su rise. “ You are not going to my
this race, yourself "

“Oh.- yes! A chap can't let a cool five hundred
slide Without a dash for it, . ou know drawlsd the
youth. for it was no other 1: an he. '01 course I
don’t suppose an amateur can beat an old rower
like Ben Huntley; but then, you know. a chap’s got
a right to try." ,

“ Beat him? Why, he can discount you, and then
beat you," retorted the Englishman. turning away
with a look of relief.

Yet there was a smile upon the young man‘s face
as it he was not qullo so sure of the result. And a
wish for his success arose in the hearts of many of
the spectators, who were taken captive by his grace-
ful and manly bearing.

Ten minutes more. and the signal was given.
The boats broke away like mettled steeds, and. side
by side, shot down the stream, while a shout that

 

made the woods ring again rose from a. thousand
VOICES.

-It was an exciting scene. The broad meadows

and slopinfir woodlands that bordered the stream ‘
e

were crow d with spectators. the somber attire of
the men in contrast with the gay apparel of the

women, while the waving of hats and handkerchieis ,

gave them a striking animation. The stream, sil-
vered by the declining sun was alive with boats.
while a steamboat, crowded with passengers. and
brilliant with flags, heaved its dark bulk down the
current, keeping well behind the two com eting
boats, which occupied a clear space in the d line
of the river.

But the vigorous rowers paid little attention to all
these distracting causes. The cars rose and fell
with clock-like regularity. and with a long. strong
stroke that sent the boats darting ahead like arrows
at every sweep of the bending blades.

It was soon evident that the Vesta was not gain
to have such an easy walk-over as some had antic -
paced. Even the boatmen who had agreed to the
change in the match were astonished at the vigor
and 5 -ill with which the young stranger handled his
oars. Half the course was rowed. and yet the tho
boats stood side by side.

But. neither seemed yet to have put his full
strength into the efiort. Huntly evidently annoyed
at this unexpected persistence ol his opponent. now
began to display some oi! his reserve strength. A
(Hulda. fierce spurt sent his craft a boat's-length
aiea . '

But his competitor rowed on with the same Ion ,
regular stroke. a smile marking his lips as it he to t
that his turn was to COme yet.

But he was putting more strength to his work for
plainly his boat was again overla ping the Vesta.
Huntly perceived this, and spui'te again. Yet he
was exhausting his reserve strength without gain-

ing an?)v permanent advantage over his op nent‘.
whose oat crept up with a steady and alarm ng per-
sistence.

The excitement on the banks of the stream grew

intense at sight of this unlocked-for evenness of ‘

match. The change in rowers had, with a stran 9
mental tele raphy. become known along the who a
course, and um v’s reputation made people pre—
dict him an easy ctory. ' .
But his unknown competitor was now rapidly gain-
ing adherents. '
“ Who can he be i" asked a bright-eyed, rah-faced

young lady. who stood with a companion on the‘

hi ow of the hill overlookin the close. “ I declare it
is quite romantic.
-—and the two boats are side by side i"

“ 0h. Mr. Huntly is only pl ing with him!" re-
plied the lady whom she had r dressed. “ He won‘t
carry away the hbnors from Philadelphia as easily

as that "

“But just see himi”exclaimed the first speaker. ~

levellmi.r her 0 era-glass upon the stra o rower.
“Whatasplen ld-looking tellowhelsl Jus the build
for a hero l“ ‘

“ But Huntly has thelead.“

“ Very little,” rejoined the other still using 1161'
glass. “And see! on. see, Lucy! sn’t that mag.
niflcent? Look at them nowi" ,

Her exclamation was echoed by
crowd lower down the hillside. For. at that mo-
ment the stranger had made avlzorous s urt, dis-
playing a strength which no one had gven him
credit for. His boat. already overlapping that othis
opponent cre t rs idly up. The bows lined each
ghee '1‘ en he screptaheed, slowly passingthe

es a.

It was this that had caused the cry. They were
now at the head of Peter‘s Island, scarce a hundred

yards from the end of the course. Huntly. perceiv- ,

ing the do or of defeat. ut-forth his remaining
strength. ut he had wen ened himself by previous

efforts. and the husbanded strength 0: his opponent _

now began to vigorouSIy tell.

Theret ey come. round the bend ‘

a cry from "the '

  

 

4 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

Inch by inch. foot by foot, the Iris overlapped the
Vesta. The island wus passed; and the clear stream
beyond gained. A few more strokes of the rapidly-
moving oars. and a new shout arose. Clear water
was seen between the bow and stern of the two
boats. The his was more than a boat‘s length in ad-
vance.

. A minute more and they shot over the closing—line
almost simultaneously. the Iris the winner by a full
en .

A8131] then a cry arose to which all previous shouts
had been whispers. The steamer added its shrill
whistle, and every spectator seemed Wild with ex-
citement.

“ The best rowed race in a dozen years!” cried one
excited boatman. “ Who is he? Who is this wonder-
ful stranger?”

“Only a Yale boy," answered the youthful con-

ueror, as he skillful! brought his boat around to
tie shore. “ Will ildfire, of Yale, at your ser-
v ce.
“ Good' gracious! it‘s no wonder he‘s scored one
against Ben Huntlyl I’ll be hanged if it ain’t the
rent stroke-oar of the Yale College crew coming
are to play with our Schuykill amateurs! The best
rower in in New England!‘

A new chorus of shouts arose. while the name of
Will Wildfire was on ever lin. as the tall, graceful
stranger stood erect in his rail boat. and bowed his
acknowledgments, a quiet smile marking his lip.

At this moment a bouquet of beautiful flowers fell
at his feet. He hastened to ick it ug. and cast his
eyes up the hill slope. catc ing sig t of a bright
young face leaning over the railing at its summit,
from whose extended hand the flowers seemed to
have come.

He ressed them to his lips and bowed his ac-
know edgments; while the face blushingly with-
drew, but not until it had indelibly stamped itself
upon his mind.

 

CHAPTER U.
WILL mama‘s SECOND scone.

“I'vs only got one rule, and that is, to get even.
Folks get ahead of me sometimes. that’s sure. But
get ahead is one thing; and stay aheadis another.”

The speaker toyed with a lass of ale. which‘stood
upon the table before him.. e lifts/l it to his mouth
and took a hearty draught as he closed, Wiping his
lips with a peculiarlyiui atient dashof his hand. -

It was in what may e called a respectable ale-
house, one of the aristocrats of its class, and much
fre uented by high-toned lovers of this: beverage.

“ ou did not fall in love with this young blooi,
then?” asked his companion. looking slyly up at the

’flrst s eaker. _

“ ell, not altogether and entirely. I can’t say
that I’m looking around just yet to buy him at Christ-
mas present; b eat his picture.”

He fastened his eyes moorlin upon his younger
com anion. The latter wasafo pily-dressed. rut‘iur
goo -looking oung man, boas ing a well-cu-liivatc'l
mustache. an a set of glittering white teeth. lh

‘ had ahabit of showing the latter in something of a
eat-like manner; while there was a dubious, uncer-
tain look about his eyes, which would have warned
any prudent observer to avmd too close contact with

him. -

“ Who would ever have thought it was in him! A
mere boy; and to outrow an old sport like B ‘ll
Huntlyl He tickled you to the tune of a five-hun-
dred. eh?" .

“ I bet he did," was the re ly; With a savage scowl.

“But you are not the c ap to be salted easily.
Was it square?" asked the young man, in his slow,
penetrating tone.

“ uarel" ejaculated the other. “I made it so in-
tern “y, square that I didn't leave a pin-hole to creep
out o

“I_'_should have thought that Luke Lister was too
old a blrd_to let himself be caught by his own ch . it,”
came the insinuating voiceof his comrade.

.the room who they were.

 

“ Did you never hear of setting atrap for a weasel,
and getting caught in it yourself?“ replied Luke.
fiercely. “ Why blast it all. I had the thing down so
flue, that I staked my last dollar on it. Who would
ewr have thought of waking up the Yale champion
in a bragging, smooth-faced boy? And the worst of
the whole rascally job was to see him lift in my
cash, with as easy on air, hang him, as if he was in
the habit of stumbling over hundred-pound bills
every day of his life 1”

The baffled English sport grew ongrier the more
he thought of the cuteness with which he had sold
himself.

“ Oh, well. there are more days than one. you
know.” remarked his foppish companion. " He’s led
the left bower on you; but you might get the chance
to play back the right on him."

‘ If I do I‘ll pepper him, you can go your bottom
penny on that!" said Luke Lister.

“I ve got a crow to pick with Will Wildfi‘e my-
self." rejoined the young man. “ We might help one
another to a little revenge on this brave college
blood. But fill up; our glass is emptty."

“I don't care if do." answered uka, rapping
loudly for the bar-tender.

“ Do you know that the wager he scorched you out
of ought to have been mine ,5“

“ How in the blazes do you make that out?" blow-
ing the foaming cap from his new glass of ale.

" Because he won it with my money," replied the
young to . " I was chiseled out of the cash [ought
to have ad from old Harry Wildflre‘s estate, and
this boy has nabbed it all.”

“ I don‘t see how you figure that up. Mark Pres-
ton is one name, and Harry Wildfire is another. You
couldnnot have been a direct heir to the rich old
coon.

“I was as near as this bragging boy. But the old
man took a fancy to his college-bred nephew and left
me out in the co 1!."

“Wheh!” whistled Luke. “ But is there no not
hole in the fence? Were you sold out as square as I
was?"

“ Hardly,” replied Mark, showing his white teeth.
“There’s a way of getting even. Just a little hitch
in the will. But can I trust you?"

“ What? Against this chap? Well, if you can’t,
there’s no use talking! I don't like him for a ha'-
penny.” '

" I may need a friend, you see." and the soft voice
took its most insinuating tone. while a cat~like glare
shone in the half-lifted gray eyes.

Their voices fell as the subject of conversation
became more confidential. Sevrra] minutes of low,
earnest talk followed. in which the young man
seemed eagerly impressing certain distasteful views
on his comrade.

‘:N.'o, I'll be flummuxed if I do!” exclaimed Luke,
striking his hand vigorously on the table. “It's got
to be a s uare set-to, and no heating round the bush.
You can ack me up against anything but the law.
But I'm at? the track when the law is entered for the
race. If it was a square-up bout with fists. now. I‘d
like nothing better than to take some of the conceit
out of him." _ ,
]_ “it"‘ou? Why, he‘d polish you down in a twink-

me.

"Let him tr it on!” cried Luke, furiously. as he
rose from his c iair. “He will fliid what stufl there
is in English oak.”

He walked toward the bar at the same instant
that two young men entered the door of the tap-
room.

A glance revealed to the previous occupants of
The shorter figure
was that of Ben Huntly, of the Vesta Boat Club.
The other was Will Wildfire, his late opponent in the
race.

They were laughing, and seemed the best of
friends. as they stepped up to the bar.

“ Here's better luck next time. friend Huntly,"
cried Will, cheerlly, as they took up their wuie-

 

 

 

   
  
   
  

     
 

 

  
   
  
  
  

  

 

 

glasses. “You would have beaten me as it was if
you hadn‘t wasted your strength too soon. I played
an old Yale trick on ou."

“That won't do, ill," returned Huntly. “ It was
a fair vinfcat. liut I don’t give up the glove yet.
Hero‘s fortune."

The two young men lifted their g’lasses, headless
of the angrylooks cast upon them y the previous
occupants of the room.

Luke’s eyes glared as 11c caught sight of the person
against whom he cherished such fierce resentment.
As for Mark Preston, he sat back indolently curling
his mustache, yet casting a significant look at his
bluff comrade as he covert] pointed at Will.

The latter had just lifted his glass to his lips, when
his elbow was jolted with a force that sent the wine
over his clothes, and over the tap-room floor.

Turning instantly on his heel he saw before him
the face of his ogponent in the wager, with a look
upon it which s owed that there was design, not
accident, in the assault.

The red blood flushed in an instant to the boy’s
fresh cheeks.

"You have had the wine," he ejaculated. “You
can have the glass.”

In an instant the empty glass was film with a
sure, quick aim. It would have struck ful the in-
sulting face before him, but for a hasty stoop on the
Englishman‘s part. As it was it took off his hat in
its flight. and splintered into a thousand tinkling
fragments against the opposite wall.

‘- That‘s for you, for an awkward fool, or an insult-
ing rascall" cried Will. .

“ All right, my handsome covey," exclaimed
Luke. doubling his fists, and advancing upon his
lighter built opponent. “Only nobody don’t fling
wine-glasses at me, and get ott with whole skins.
Square yourself, for I'm going to settle your bacon."

“Como, come; none 0 this," said Huntly. "Let
us go, Will.”

" Why. it he is so anxious," re lied Will, leaning
indolently against the bar, an fixing his eyes
calmly upon his furious opponent. “I‘ve shown
in hand, and I am the boy to back it up."

It was evident that Luke was a practiced boxer. by
his mode of approach. Huntly grew doubtful ol'
the result. as he noticed the aiflerence in size of the
two opponents, and Will‘s apparent ignorance of the
art of self-defense.

“Stand back!“ he cried, sternly. “If you touch
him on have me to settle with." _ _ .

“ , leave him alone, Huntly," enjomed Will.

uietly. “ If he’s so hot for satisfaction, let the poor
devil have what he can get of it."

Luke, yet more furious at this sarcastic defiance.
struck a fierce blow at the open face of his youthful
op onent. _

ut the result was remarkably different from what
he had anticipated. Although Will had seemed off
his guard. yet his feen eyes had not for a second
left those of his antagonist. In an instant 1118 right
arm was up in defense; a quick side thrust had
warded otf the stroke, and then his own left hani
shot out like an arrow.

The blow struck Luke fairly in the forehead. and
if it had been a stroke from a hammer he could not
have gone down more suddenlv.

“ First knock-down for Wildfire!” cried Will.
“ You see. Huntly, that rowing muscle is good in a
scrimmage."

Huntly, astonished at this result. laughed. and
suddenly changed his opinion as to Will‘s boxing

ca acity. ,
P Look out! He’s up again!” cried Will‘s com-

rade.

n. was with the ferocity of a maddened bull that
Luke now rushed at his quiet opponent. But he had
learned by sad experience to be more way, and for
several minutes b ows were exchanged Without anv
advantng= on either side, Will showmg all the skill
of is practiced boxer. _ .

Then that steel-like left arm got in again—this

       

 

    

Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. ‘ 5

time on Luke's tem is. He fell like a log to the floor,
stunned and insensi le.

" There, I guess that mill's over.“ remarked Will,
checrily. “ I‘ll have another glass of wine landlord.
mine got somehow spilt. Fill up again. H'untl ."

“Something besides the wine got spilt," re oined
Huntly, laughing.

“ it don’t do to row against Yale. on see," re-
minded Will, turning and casting a 1: once toward
Mark Preston, who had sat unmoved, his eyes alone
taking part in the combat.

.Wili slight] started, as he apparently recognized
hlnn. He sat nothing, however, quietly draining his
g ass.

" Will, shall we vamose the ranch, Will?” asked
IIuntly. “Or does this sport want more polish-
“, f,” .

" No. I think he has his rations for to—day," laugh-
ed Will.

The two young men had been gone several minutes
before the kiln bully recovered his senses. He sat
up on the floor still dazed, and looking around him
with a stupefled aspect.

Mark Preston now rose, and lent him his hand to
assist him to his feet.

" There is another debt you owe Will Wildfire."
insinuatod the youn man.

“May I be switc led it I ain’t your man, Mark
Preston,”_ cried the whipped bully. " Say the word
guill 131 join you. Anything to head this young

11 y.

 

CHAPTER III.
rm: BALL AT THE ACADEMY.

’l‘mc silvery tones of the music throbhed and
pulsed, kept tune to the beat of dancing feet, as the
whirling waltzers went, in 'ddy mazes, round and
round the broad floor of t e Academy of Music"
while hundreds of strange fl ures roamed hither an
thither, inclosed within the road circle of dancers.

For it was the first grand fancy dress ball of the
season. one of those hilarious German festival: in
which the sgirit of oddity reigns supreme lord of the,
occasron. very conceivable costume adorned the
merry participants in the mirthful scene; some rich
in texture, and in harmonious keeping with the
character; others ridiculously odd and grotesque.
Knights and clowns, kings and jesters, Gy ‘es and
savages. demons and harlequins, and ot- er inde-
scribable characters. wound out and in through the
crowded maze, m a brilliant confusion of color and
glitlcrof gem . "

on the dancing floor mirth reigned supreme. The
variousstrange characters each sought to keep up
the spirit of his assumed form.

One character—a tall. graceful figure. attired in a
suit of chain armor. whose polished rin littered
and tinkled like silver bells at every trea — ad jult
broken through the circle of dancers, and was walk-
ing listlessly through the laughing cmwd. nothing of
his visioned face visible but a pair of keen eyes
ifmd the lower part of a well-rounded. unwhiskered

ace. -

“Why so melancholy. Sir KRght?" came a voice
in his ear. “ Have you just escaped from the grave
of the past that you wander like a shadow through
the halls of mirth Y“

The knightly figure quickly turned to behold be-
side him a slender. graceful woman 5 form, dressed
to represent the “ Queen of Night._" while avail that
sparkled with stars fell to her waist, revealing only -
the faintest outlines of the face, and the dim glow of
laughing eyes.

“ War is for Knights. not laughter," came back in
deep toms. " Chivalrous adventure, not gleeful
sports. Fair Mistress Night, it you hold beneath
your Shadowy campy any maiden in distress. then
call upon mv sword for rescue."

“I fear it will not come.” replied the musical
voice. “ You are alread pledged. What is this
silken scarf upon your lef arm?" ‘

     
   
  
   
   
  
  
  
   
      
   
   
   
   
    
   
 
   
  
 
 
   
  
     
     
   
  
     
  
  
    
   
  
  
    
    
  
  
  
    
   
   
   

“ He is sold!" cried a jesting voice near them.
“ He is sold and a woman had bought him. Trust
him not. lady fair. Your belted Knights are sore de-
ceivers." ,

“Not I,” stoutly returned the Knight, addressing
the Harlequin-like flgure. “This is but my pledge
to an adventure yet to be achieved. It is no bond to
any lady love."

“I trust 1you not, Sir Knight," rej :iued the merry
Queen of ight. “I have the eyes of a. seeress;
can read the ‘Forget me‘not ’ so deftly hidden with-
in the silken badge.“

The Knight ave a start of surprise, till his armor
rung with a an den clash of silvery sound. His keen
files sought in vain to read the face of the veiled

y.

“How know you that?" he cried. “You cannot
read what lies on the inside of this knotted ribbon?"

“Aha! sir lover! Have I touched you there?”
and a merrfi laugh came from the vailed lips. “ You
know not a my power. I will read a chapter from
yourpast."

She seized his hand. and bent her face over the
lines upon his palm. as if eagerly studying them.

“I see.” she said, in a low tone. “a great con-
course of people, the. gleaming surface of a broad
river, two slender boats flying beneath the forms of
vigorous rowers! They reach them goal! Shouts
from a thousand voices greet the winner! He turns
his boat lightly to the land! A bouquet of flowers
falls from the cliff to his feet! He presses it grate-
fully to his lips, as he lifts his eyes toward the un-
known giver. But she has gone. and only the
flowers, tied with ‘ Forget me not ‘ ribbon remain in
his hands."

Her voice grew low and earnest as she repeated
these words with the gravity of a sibyl.

“ Are you a witch?" he exclaimed. “ Or no—you
were there! You know me! I must see your face."

“Hold,” she continued, "I am not yet done.
There is more here. I see i’oes surrounding you,
dangers threatening you. You will‘have to pass
through ’many perils. You must be wise, brave and

‘ discreet.

"Those are the virtues of a Knight," he replied.
“I fear no foes. And now shall I not see the charm-
ing face which you keep so cruelly veiled!"

. I have warned you D be discrset." she answer-
ed. “You must not know me. There are reasons
why a knowledge of my face might double your
dan ere."

“ know you " the Knight rejoined, with a laugh
of triumph. “ saw the face of the lad y from whom
came this silken scarf. I can see the same eyes
burning through that starry nil.”

“Trust not a woman’s eyes.” sung a gay voice
near them. “ They are deceivers ever. Beware, Sir
Knight. or the Luz-ii will have thee in her toils.”

T e Knight cast his eyes toward the singer. 1t
wasa bright. merry-faced manlen dressed in the
costume or the peasant girls of the l1ine.he!‘flaxen
hair dressed with clusters and leaves of the vine.

it was but a. momentar glance, but when he
turned again to his compan on she had disappeared.
She had been suddenly swallowed up in a maelstrom
of living forms.

“Trust her not. she is fooling thee," sung the
merry German maiden. “Turn hither. Sir Knight;
only the bhnd follow the fleeing. Turn hither and
head not the false and flttul.”

With a gesture of disappointment, the Knight
turned toward the sin er.

Suddenly throwingo this momentary dis uieturle
he seized the hand of the pretty German g rl, call»
in: out merrily;

v“ There its. the music again. Let us join in the
dance. It is for the young’and the gay; for the

' grape-blossom of the ine.’

“And for the wildfire of the Delaware." returned
the girl. with a significant look.

He started again in so rise.

“Does ail Philadelphia now me?" he asked him-

Wili Wildfire. the Thoroughbred.

 

self. “ I did not fancy that a boat-race would make
one so famous.”

Will Wildfire—whom his knightly disguisa had
failed to conceal—Jed his new partn r, nothing 10th,
to where new circles were wnirling in tho giddy
mazes of the waltz.

In a moment they two were in the heart of the
dance, his linked armor yielding a tinkling sound at
every step upon the elastic floor.

The eyes of the lookers-on were soon drawn to this
new pair. as the most graceful dancers upon the
floor. following them as they whirled round and
round, in the ardent circles of the waltz, Will’s
armor ringing in silvery response to every step.

The music grew quicker, the waltz more rapid.
Round and round went the giddy circles, intertwin-
ing like a living web of ruinbowod light and eye-en-
trancing motion. Round and Round, while hearts
beat and eyes gleamed with excitement. and the
music seemed to grow mad with the same intensity
that possessed the dancers.

And suddenly the instruments ceased. A strange
silence fell. The dancing circle as suddenly broke
asunder, and in a moment more was mingled in the
strolling mass. quick breaths and flashing eyes nlons
remaimn of the late giddy motion of the waltz.

‘ Will wa ked away with his partner, gayly convers-

mg.

“ Where shall I take you?“ he asked.

“ Here, to the left, are my friends. And now, Sir
Knig‘ht, may I speak one word in your ear?"

“ hatever you deign to say I shall be happy to
hear.” Will gallantly replied.

“ Beware the Queen of Night,“ came in whispered
accents in his attentive ear.

“ But why?" he asked surprised. “ Who is this
Queen of Night? You know her. Tell me who she
is ’

“ Ha! I see you are in her toils already. Beware!
beware! Take care! take care! Trust her not, she is
fooling thee!”

The voice, suddenly resuming its merr tone.
broke into song on these last words, while t )e lizht
form moved away from his side, in a dancing, glid-
ing motion. Will stood with a sort of dazed look,
watching/her as she sunk and disappeared into the
dense throng. He felt no desire to follow her. And
get, there was something very attractive in her

right young face; something more than the simple
German peasant she represented.

Will felt instinctively that she was playing a part
in her dress which she could not play in her soul;
that there was more in her than appeared on the
surface.

He walked through and through the room listen-
ing to and taking part in the merry talk and laugh-
ing jests, and occasionally indulging in a gay flirta-
tion. or in a mocking banter, with some of the liv.-ly
merrymakers on the floor.

“I wonder what has become of my friends?" he
asked himself, moving toward a portion of the room
that was comparatively deserted.

Here. with a sense of lensure. he caught sight
again of the “Queen of ight." She was standing
in what seemed earnest conversation with a slender-
ly-built figure, dressed in the costume of a courtier
of the Elizabethan age. _

The sound made by his armor attracted her atten-
tion, and she turned with a quick motion toward
himl. extending her hands with a gesture of ap-

ea . -.

“ Protection, Sir Knight-errant." she said, with
more of earnest than of jest in her tone. “ it is your
duty to render aid to the disuressed. I crave your
protection from this discourteous courtier." ‘

“‘It is yours " Will warmly replied. “Your tors
are mine; and he who assails you shall have me to
answer to."

She glided away, but Will felt a warm grasp of her
hand as she did so, given perhaps in response to the
earnest meaning in his voice.

“It is one thing to insult a woman. It is another

  

 

 

      
 

 

    

, w-‘v—AJKI:

 

 

Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. 9|

 

te fsee a man." was Will's stern address to the
masked figure befere him.

“You had better take warning, my steel-coated
friend, and not meddle with me,” came back in hit-
ing sarcasm. "There are those ready to take a1112)
every guarrel. and who get more kicks than h -
pence or their pains."

“Braver said " answered Will, haughtlly. “ Are
you ready to a minister the kicks? Or to defend
yourself in any other mode?”

“I will defend myself in m own time and in my
own way," was the fierce rep y. " And i am not to
be browbeaten by any bravo or meddling officer."

“ Bravo in your teeth!" cried Will, in an an
tone. "And if you want further warrant for defense,
here it is for you."

He struck his foe a light blow in the face, de-
livered with the back of his hand, yet with suffi-
cient force to loosen the mask and tear it from its
fastenings. .

“Abel ’ exclaimed Will, in astonishment, as the
falling mask revealin the countenance before him.
“So t isyou, Mark reston. It is vou Who oblige
ladies to seek protection from insult 1“

“Yes, it is I," was the bitter answer. "And I
know on, Will Wildfire, in spite of your masked
face. ou can safely dare me to a battle with fists,
or any such work of roughs. But I do mv fightin
with other weapons; and I will be even with you ye
for this blow."

His face was purple with anger as he picked up his
fallen mask and turned to walk away.

" Whenever you will and wherever you will." an-
swered his opponent hotly. “ By fair means or foul,
I fear you not, and am ready to meet you in any
treachery you attempt to practice."

Wlll haughtin walked away from the spot of the
encounter, and mingled again with the mass. seek-
ing, but in vam, for the vanished form of the “ Queen
of N ight.”

 

CHAPTER IV.
us run ow rsan HOUSE.

W2 must now betake ourselves to a locality out-
side of the city limits. though in its immediate
vicinity. It is a rambling old mansion, to which
additions at successive periods have given a discon-
nected, yet picturesque ap earance. At one ex-
tremity the ivy of a century 3 growth mantles and
conceals the original well. while at the other the
brand of newness marks the work of a very recent
addition.

The grounds around it are Eartly pleasure par-
terres and partly falm lands. t e latter spreading
out widely eyond the road in front, while the for-
mer extend around the house. and down to the nar-
row and winding waters of a stream, known as
Darby Creek which borders the estate to the north.

Such is Wildflower Hall, as it is known to the eo-
gée of the vicinity. it is now the heritage of ill

ildflre. who has but lately succeeded to the estate
by the death of his peculiar old uncle, the newsof
whose decease in a foreign land had reached America.
shortly before the opening of our story.

The brightly colored October woods are lendinfi
their charm to. the surrounding landsoa e, as W1
and a group of his friends, up or from t e interior
of the house, and stand smok n’g and chatting on the
porch in front.

“ A mighty clever drop you have made," remarked
Ben Huntly. who had become a warm friend of
Will‘s. “I know an uncle or two that I would be
willing to s are, if I could exchange them for a
relic of the o d times like this."

‘- And not wet manv handkerchiefs with tears eh,
Ben?" asked Pierce Browning. an indolentvlooking
fellow of gigantic build. “But it is not every chap
that is born to good-luck. Is that one of your
frleinds, Will? He looks asif he wanted to know you
ago. n.

“ am not anxious to return the compliment,"
answered Will, carelessly.
‘

 

These words referred to a person of somewhat
sinister aspect, who had stopped at the gate in pass-
ing, and was looking at Will with a peculiar intensi-
ty of expression.

“ Do you allow shooting about here?" asked Hunt-
lyl. “ I would like to go gunning after such game as
t at if it flew around my preserves.”

“ Oh, I suppose it is some one of the ne hbors.
who wants to get acquainted," remarked Wi . care-
lessly. turning his back to the road and pumnga
cloud of smoke from his cigar.

After a moment the man walked on, disappearing
behind the thick bushes that bordered the road.

“This way, boys, if you want to see the place."
said Will. leading down the steps to the porch.
“ People brag about the rounds o Wildflower Hall:
but for my part I remem or very little about them."

They walked around for an hour or two, finding
much to admire and some little to criticise.

But there was one thing they failed to see, and
this was that a pair of sinister eyes followed their
every movement, and that a lurking form glided
from bush to bush, as if with no friendly intent.
There was some hidden treachery in the air, of
which the jrsting young men remained in careless
unconsciousness.

“ It‘s mighty line,” said Pierce, in indolent praise.
as he blew the smoke in clouds from his lips. “ But
not half so pretty as the field of a billiard board.
Let us get back to the house. I don‘t believe I am
given to nature. I would sooner get my feet up on
your porch railing and talk." ,

H“ meditate on your sins, I suppose," laughed

on y.

“Sins!” echoed Will. “ He has no sins, exce t
alove of cigar-smoke and a weakness for pretgy N
girls. nAnd t ere is nonhing in that needing repent-
ance.

Pierce lau bed good-naturedly at th' se remarks.

“ Go on.“ e said, turning toward the house. “ It
amuses you, and it don‘t hurt me."

“ I must be you to excuse me fora few minutes,"
explained Wi l. " I have a short errand down this
we , at in tenant house. Make yourselves entirely
at ome; will see on soon."

“ Had on not etter have company i" asked
Piérce. ‘ It might be dangerous for anew-fledged
chm) l‘lke you to wander alone through these desert
WI 3 ‘

“lfI fail to return in due time on can send out
explorin parties, or drag the cree for me,” is. h-
ed Will, n re ly. “ It would be positively crue to
draw our li'r end Pierce away now, with that lazy
yawn on his lips."

Will turned aside with a as laugh, making his
way toward the open fields, wh lo the remainder of
the part strolled slowly back toward thehouse.

And t e lurking form which had been tracking
them ste by step, and had approached close enoug
to hear t ese last words, now lided rapidly away.
masking himself behind bus es and bordering .
hedges. In a few minutes he had regained the toe ,_
showing the face of the man who been lately
observed watching Will from the gate.

Here he was joined by two other men.

“ It’s all boozy,“ he cried, in hasty accents. “ The.
cat's got her nose in the bag. We've on] got to pull
thelstrlng. 'irack‘s the word, lads. and et out‘s the
s v e.

The next moment they hurried rapidly away.

Meanwhile Will, all unconscious of hose signifi-
cant movements, was slowly making his way
through the grounds.

Passing through a wicket ate he entered the open
fields, and walked toward a ow brick house. which
stood on an elevated spot by the roadside, about».
quarter of a mile distant.

" I ho it is in fair order for the new tenant " he
said to imself. “ But if it has been empty so lo ,
I suppose there will be some repairing necessary.’

All was quiet and forlorn about the empty tenant-
house as he approached. The well-grown grass and

 

 

remain er. hrowing t a purse u

3 Will Wildfire. the Thoroughbred.

 

weeds, the dusty and desolate aspect of the place,
gave him a sensation of distaste.

“ I think I will change all that," he remarked, try-
ing the door, which 0 ened to his touch.

‘They might have ept it locked, at any rate,“ be
muttered. “It would make a glorious retreat for
tramps."

The interior of the house was dismally silent, as
he walked through the empty rooms, in some of
which a few articles of furniture remained.

There was something so dismal and solitary, and
so distressin 1y shadowy and silent. about the. closed
house, that e felt himself involuntarily wishing he
had brought his friends with him.

“It would be enough to give an owl a fit of the
blues.” he muttered, as he ascended to the upper
floor and walked through its several rooms.

Yet there were noises here which he had not heard
below—geculiar creakings, as it the house was set-
tling b0 ily downward' and sounds as of suppressed
breathing, as though t e ghost of some former in-
mate was present vet in the empty rooms.

“ Ughl" said Will. with a shiver, as he opened the

- door of a back room.

He hastened across the floor and threw open a
window letting some 1i ht into the dam apart-
ment. Some pieces of urniture remains in the
room—a table and two or three chairs.

Will seated himself on one of the latter, and looked
critically round. '

“ 'i hardly think there is much neededfibcsides. the
dusting-brush and the broom, with the aid of a little

sunlight," he solilo uized.

But now the crea ingo noises suddenly increased.
The rose into steps, in a rushing sound that made
W start in surprise.

In an instant the room was violently invaded, not
by ghosts, but by living men. Will leaped to his
feet as the intruders sprung upon him. A Single
glance told him that there were three of them. A
quick blow from his clinched fist stretched one of
them prostrate at his feet.

But they had taken him too much by surprise for
any effective resistance. The other two leaped upon
him and hampered his limbs in their grasp; one—a
small-built man—springing like a out upon his back,
while the other seized him in front.

Another feature of the case had been caught by
Will's glilslck eyes. They were all closely masked.

All 1: had taken but a second. He struggled

'violsntlv. but three to one, and that one at a disazl-

vanta e, was no fair odds. The man he hal floored
rose a once, and in an instant had drawn and bound
his arms behind him.

The next moment ‘he was forced into a chair, on)
of the brigands resenting a pistol at his head, while
the others tight bound him to the chair.

“ Try to call or help, and I will send a bullet

through you i" hissed the man in his ear
H W a

t does this outrage mean i” asked Will, hot-
36 “If it is my purse you want, take it and go.
wardly rascals i’ ,

“ We want something more than your purse," said
the man sarcastically. “Though I won t mind tak-
ing a little remembrance out of that. Just a slight
stake you owe me‘.”

He extracted the pulse from the young man's
pocket as he spoke. and examined its contents. He
oarefull se arated 3 art of these, and replaced the

on the table.
“Well. what next?" asked ill, with great com-
mand of his temper.

“ Only a trifle * of satisfaction," returned the

' [speaker of the villains. “You have paid me for mv

trouble. " But I owe you a little debt which I want to
11/ mm.
A“ I forgive you the debt," remarked Will, with an
enort to ap ear at ease.
“ But I on't forgive you!" the man fiercely re-
plied, making a sign to his companions.
In a minute more the had torn off the bov’s coat
and vest. and dragged own his shirt, revealing the

’J'H

 

White skin of his back in its naked luster and muscu-
lar roundncss.

The speaker now handed his pistol to one of the
others, and drew from under his coat a short, thick-
lashed whip.

“A blow for a blowl That is the measure of the
Jewish law,” be ratirically said, as he drew this orucl~
looking weapon between his hands.

Will looked, with an involuntary shiver, on the
whip in the hands of this stalwart villain. He next
lookefl at the,pistol, held within six inches of his
temp e.

“ All right." he remarked, setting his teeth grimly.
“It is your day now. But mine will come. warn
you in advance that if you strike me with that whip
you shall bitterly rue it.”

A s:ornful laugh came from the man’s lips. He
drew back his hand the lush whizzed a moment in
the air, and came clown with a cruel thud on the
white flesh beneath it, cutting a, deep red swath.

“One,” said Will, without a groan, though his
teeth were clinched together like a vice.

“ Two.” “ Three."

The whip again and again descended, cuttings red
welt with each blow.

“ That’s one for each of you. I will remember the
debt I owe you," and the brave boy had a look upon
his face that boded ill for his tormentors when his
turn should come.

“ Our debt is not lyet paid," cried the man, again
raising the cruel las .

CHAPTER V.
A mm EQUESTRIENNE.

“Now I didn’t want to stir up our friend Wildflre’s
1pride." remarked Pie ce Browning, “but I will say,

etween ourselves, that he has a deuced prettv place
here. Ifnhe wants to exchange I'll trade with him,
even up.

He sat with his back tilted back at a dangerous
angle, his feet on the rail of the porch, and his hat
drawn down over his eyes. The smoke curled in
lazy wreaths from his lips as he spoke.

“ I think Will ought to know that there‘s such an
offer open to him,“ replied Harry Waters, another of
the party. “ I expect he’d jump for it as a monkey
Jum s for a peanut.”

“ r acat for a bowl of milk.” suggested Huntly,
laughing. "I am surprised to see such an instance
of self-sacrifice.”

“Ohl I‘ve spentell my life giving myself away to
my friends," rejomed Pierce, with a resi ned air.
“But, don’t sav_ much to Will about it. t might
make him dissatisfied with his country farm."
H“Whlch isn’t his in good earnest yet,” suggested

MTV.

“ Hey? what’s that? cried Pierce. “Not his? Why, I

is there any break in the title?"

“His uncle died abroad. you know. And the will
was found among his effects. it has not yet reached
America, and our boy is only holding on t e strength
of a telegram.” ,

“ A telegram?"

“ Yes. The dead man‘s papers were examined by
a confidential frlend. who accompanied him. He
has telegraphed the fact that Will is made full heir
of Wildflower Hall. He will be in this country soon
with the papers."

“ Whehi" cried Pierce. “ He's only an heir bv
telegraph then? If I were in his place I wouldn't
spread myself too much. [Suppose there should
3 ow up some flaw in the Will; or a later one come
to light?"

“ It would be blamed awkward for Will," replied
Huntly. “ But it won’t turn out so. He is too 0 n-
handed and whole-souled a fellow for bad luc to
chase in that way. Luck can‘t turn on a chap that
handles an car like him."

” 'l‘hatjs so, Ben. I wasn’t at the race. But they
say be discounted you."

“Hardly,” answered Huntly, dryly. “I thought I
had a greenhorn, and got hit; that was all." -

\

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4..
r

' v

Will Wildfire. the Thoroughbred. 9

 

“And could have beaten him, of course, if you
had only seen his game.“

" I don’t an that,” rejoined Huntly. a little angry
at the concea ed sarcasm of Pierce’s words.

He rose and paced the porch somewhat impa-
tien‘tgy.

“ hat in the world keeps him ?" he said. “ He
has been one the big end of an hour.“

“ Here e comes?” cried Harry. "Or somebody
who is in a great hurry."

He referred to the sound of a horse‘s hoofs which
now rose distinctly upon the still air. It seemed to
be a roaching at tul speed. »

“ at comes u the road; not down," remarked
Huntly. “it is no from Will’s direction.”

The horse came momently nearer and nearer.
Hunt] . who was standing at the end of the porch
turne( his e es down the road.

“ Hallol t’s a woman 1" he cried. “ But isn’t she
a glowing old rider! The horse is making his best
tracks, and she sits the saddle like a centaur.”

All but Pitrce rose at these words, anxious to ob-
serve this bold equestrienne. But the lazy giant re-
mained seated apparently more interested in his
ci ar than anything else mundane.

he long-striding black horse thundered up to the
front of the mansion. Instead of assing, however
it was drawn up to a full stop b t 9 strong hand 0
its rider, whose disenga ed ban was extended with
it becoming esture to t ose standing on the porch.

Ben Hunt ey hurried down toward the gate. His
eyes were fixed with surprise and admiration on the
features of the fair horsewoman, who sat her h_orse
like a. statue of grace. flushed, and doubly beautifled
by the warmth oi! exercise. He could not but ac—
knowledge to himself that she was superbly beauti-
i'ul. with her fresh yonng face. her red, poutmg
lips, and the blue luster that burned in her eyes. A
wealth of soft. brown hair, loosened by the violence
of the ride, drooped gracefully over her temples,
gddirég a new, untudied charm to her maidenly

eau y.

The horse quivered and palpitated beneath her
stately form, but she sat unmoved. her only expres-
sion one of excitement and anxiety.

“ Mr. Wildflrel"_she cried out hastilv. as Huntly
drew ’i’iear. Is he in the house? I must see him at
once.

“I am sorry to say he is not," replied Huntly.
“ But he will return in a few minutes. Will you not
ridein and wait?“ _

“No, no!" she anxiously exclaimed. “Excuse my
abraiptne’s‘s: but where has be gone? There must be
no e ay.

“ He walked over the farm, toward his tenant
house.“

“He is in danger! great danger!" was her excited
answer. “Foes who have sworn to injure him are
even now upon his track! He may be in their tails
even while we speak! I have ridden here towarn
him. Will you not at once follow him to this house?
He may be in need of your aid."

“ Of course," rejoined Huntly, “ if the danger is as
real as you say. But how can you know of the deSigns
of his enemies i”

" it is enough that I know. It matters not how.”
she impatient y answered. “Will you go to hisres-
cue? or must I in ersoni"

“ Of course I W] lgol" cried the young man. “I
would othrough fire and waterfor him."

“ An —one word more," she hesitatingly spoke.
“ I beg that you will not describe me to any one.
There are reasons—I am myself in danger."

“ Trust to me," re1oined untly earnestly, pleased
to be made the confidant of so beautiful a woman.
“ And I will instantly haste to seek him."

“Thanks! A thousand thanksl“

The drawn rein was loosened. The impatient black
horse sprung on! in eager night. In a. moment more
the beautiful vision had disa pe .

Huntl looked after her or a minute, and then
hastened back to the house.

claimed Pierce. “

 

“Who is with me?" he asked. “ I have been warn-
ed that Will Wildfire is in great danger. He may be
now in the hands of his enemies. Who is with me
to the rescue?"

“ That’s a mighty thin story,“ replied Pierce, in-
credulously. '

“ Thin or not. I am pledged to prove it. What say
you Harry, are on with me?"

“ You bet!" c ed the active young man, springing
down the steps.

“ I am on no such wild goose business," remarked
Pierce, indolently. “ The girl is making game of
you.’

“ Very well. We will prove that," and Huntly
turned away with a movement of vexation.

“ Ohl here, my bo , don‘t be going off angry," ex-

ou had better take this with
you. You may have some hobgoblins to shoot."

He flung toward Huntly a small revolver, which
he had drawn from a rear pocket.

Huntly deftly caught it.

“Thanks.” he said. “ A pistol is often of more
use than an extra man. ' ,

The next instant the two were off. hastening to the’
gate, and down the road toward the house that stood
prominent on a rising ground in the distance.

The doubts which they still entertained, and which
had been dee ened by Pierce’s distrust. were and-
denly dispelle on entering the door of this house by
the tones of voices within it, followed by 8.1)
sound, whose character they could not comprehend.

Meanwhile, in the room up-stairs, the scene which
we have already described was being enacted. ‘

The bared back of the young athlete, with its arl
white skin cruelly cut and bleeding from the area
lash, appealed in vain to the rancor of his enemies.
The pistol at his temples still threatened him with
death if he should seek to give an alarm, while the '
lash was a sin lifted in the air, in the strong hands
of his im acable foe.

But W l sat with the stoicism of an old Roman.

“Go on!" he said, sternl . “But remember that
every blow shall be bitter y revenged. Think not
that you can hide yourself from me behind your '
masks. I will find you, and will fully repay you
for this indi ity.”

A bitter, disdaintul laugh came from the lips of the

bur roman.
“ on your day comes." he said. “ It is our day
now. Why do you not flinch, blast ou? Why do

you not beg to be released. or cry for will”

“ Because I would die first,” replied ill stoutl -
though his young heart swelled as though it would
burst its bonds.

“ You may call, I hardlyithink aid will come," re-
turned the rufl‘lan, a sin [ting the whip, which he
had lowered durni t is dialogue.

“ You lie! you in ernal hound! whoever you are!"
thundered fierce accents from behind the locked
door, which was grasped and violently shaken at this
us an . ‘ \

The ruil'lan dropped his lash, and looked in alarm
at his friends. the unmasked ortlon of their faces
visibly pallid in the light the entered through the
open w ndow. -

The door was now violent] struck and shaken. '

“0 en. or we will breaki down!" was the cry.

“S all I settle him?“ asked the man with the I

pistol.

“ No fool! Do you want to hang for your pains i"
cried the first peaker, snatching the istol from his
hands. “Here are stairs We must ake tracks at
once. That door will not stand a minute."

The smaller member of the me. who had k9 t
utter! silent durlnz'this scene, was the first to ta c
this h nt, springing like a cat for the stairs. He was
folio wed hastily by‘ his companions.

“ Never mind t e door! shouted Will as the
blows on it redoubled. “ Down-stairs w th you!
They are escaping! Head them OR, and shoot them
down hke dogs if you cannot capture them."

As he spo 6, however. the poorly-fastened door

 

  

   
  
   
  
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
  
    
  
 
   
   
   
   
  
 
   
  
   
 
 
 
   
   
  
    
    
  
  
  
  
 
 

Q'

 

'10 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

 

gave wa , and was flung violently open, the forms
of Ben untly and Harry Walters rushing into the

room.

“lg; God i" cried the latter in horror, as be ob-
serv Will‘s condition. " Look here, Ben, What the
devils have done!”

“ Never mind mel" exclaimed Will. “ After them!
Don’t let them escape l"

The sound of the slammed doors below was heard.
Huntly ran across the room and threw up the sash
of the open window.

The next instant the crack of a pistol sounded. as
he fired at the fugitives, who were running hastily
toward a strip of woodland, a hundred yards away.

His shot was followed bya quick leap back.
pistol cracked without, the bullet passing the spot
where he had just stood, and burying itself in the
wall behind him.

During this interchange of shots, Ha Waters
had drawn a knife, and released Will from is bonds
with quick strokes of the keen blade.

. The young man sprung to his feet, a, revengeful
light 11 ling is face. He eagerly snatched the pistol
from Huntly’s hand. and ran to the window, which
the latter had been dubious about again approach-

in .

i quick aim, anda bullet again out the air to-
ward the fugitives. But the were too far distant
for a sure aim, and in a minu 6 more buried them-
selves in the bushy borders of the wood.

“The devils!” cried Huntly, “they have cut you

ear-full l"

“11 t ey had cut me to pieces I would follow

them i” exclaimed Will, springing for the stairs.

 

CHAPTER VI.
now macs: snowman comann run names.

“By the Liverpool steamer of the 10th October,
he writes,“ said a middle-aged lad , as she ran her
eyes overaletter sheet which she{ aid 0 en in her
hand. “ And it is now the 20th. e shou d be here
within a week.”

“I hope so.” replied her young lady companion.
“I am certainly anxious to know what is to be the
end of it all."

It was a small apartment, overlooking a narrow
street, while the surroundings, and the dresses of
the speakers, did not betoken great wealth. Yet
there was about them an air of culture, and a gen-
eral tastefulness in the whole aspect of the room
which spoke of polish and of a high social standing.

The young lady was very pretty. with an arch,

nisl expression, though her face closely resembled
phantom sobered countenance of her elder com-

on. .

“ Heifih-hol I am tired enough of this sort of life,"
she sai , indolently playing or fan,nnd leaning
back in her chair with a careless grace. "If some
fairy would only put an end to it; or bring an en-
chanted island along this way."

“Your fairy is coming now—over the seas," was

the $31 .

“ a he! Bi headed and big-footed Ralph
Emerson Be a fa rvi" The young ady burst into
a merry la h. “Wh , mother. if he was to set

at foot of his in f ryland, he would smash a
w ole city of the dainty creatures at every step."

The mother laughed in response.

" He is a good soul, at all events. That you must
ucknowledge.ILucills. And he is bringing us are-
lease from this prison of poverty.“

" I hope so," re lied Lucille, rather dubionsly.

She remained 0st in thought for a minute. idly
playing her fan.

“ I do wish that boy was not living so wild a life.“
she at length said. “If Something could only be
‘9??? hiy'dlmk‘ii “"3"? h“ iiim'" iii 1
a n erecan ean ii os ve
W m my,” 1 8 P y

I

 

“Perhaps not. But b'ld company is often worse
than had inclinations. You remember how I warned
him at the ball at the Academy, when I was playing
the pretty peasant girl. That mysterious woman
who appeared there as~tlie Queen of N ight—J know
she is seeking to entrap him in her toils—if I could
but penetrate the hidden mystery of her life!"

“It was strange that Will did not recognize you
on that occasion.“

“ But you know, mother, that he has not seen us
for years."

“ Why does he not seek us out?" rejoined the mo-
ther, With a show of vexation. “I would not have
dreamed of his being so neglectful."

“ it is the Wildfire blood," answered Lucille.
“ They ursue but one object at a tizzie. Dissi ation
has ho d of him now. e will follow it unti some
stronger assion obtains control of him."

“Whic will he love, crhaps," said the mother.
“That is, if your mysterious woman succeeds in en-
trapping him—But see here, child. I have not flu-
ished Ralph’s letter yet. Here is a postscript."

“Of course. He always puts his most important
news in a postscript.” '

” ‘ I will not come at once to Philadelphia.’ he says.
‘ I have some business of my own to transact at Lan-
caster, which I must attend to first. 1—”

She was suddenly interrn terl in her reading bya
gust of air, which entere the open window, an
caught the letter in an eddy from her loose grasp.
The whirling wind whisked it out of the window, and
down the street, despite her efforts to catch it.

“Now that is too bad!" she excitedly cried.
“There was something. else there of im ortance,
but I only got a glimpse of it. Run after t e letter,
Lucille."

The young lady had already sprung up, dropping
her fan. In aminute more'she was in the street,
eagerly chasing the flying letter, her golden hair
loosened and extended behind her till she seemed a
second Atalanta.

But the wind was faster than she. She could see
the light sheet flying like a Winged creature ahead.
She saw it finally descend into the grasp of an imp-
islli little black boy, who had preceded her in the
0 use.

Instead of returning it to her, however, he looked
round with a laugh of mocking triumph upon his
facetand then darted like an arrow down a side
stree .

Hastii capturing her escaped hair Luciue turned
back, a 00k of great discomposure upon her face.

“It is gone, mother." she cried, in tone of in-
tense vezation. “ It has fallen into t e hands of
that little black imp who has been hanging around
here like a spy an whom we suspect to be em-
ployed by Marl: Preston for some unknown pur-

ose.

” Now that is too bad, Lucille. It may be ruinous
for Mark Preston to at that letter. You know his
unscrupulous charac er. If he should meet unsus-

ectinz Ralph Emerson in Lancaster. and by some

rick defraud him of his papers, particularly of old
Harry Wildflre’s will—"

“Something must be donsl" exclaimed Lucille
with great ener . “ Will Wildfire must he warns
of the danger.— must 0 to Lancaster myself.—If
that will is destroyed, t in villain may come in for
the estate, under the old will.”

“ And we be robbed of our legacy,” added the mo-

ther.

align did not catch the remainder of the posts
so

“ o. It was something about the pa rs. He
would leave them in the hands— The let r disap-
peared when my eyes had got that far."

“I hope it may be in good hands,“ exclaimed
Lucille, seating herself at a desk, and commencing
to write energetically.

“I am going to warn cousin Will against his
enemy,” she said. “But we have too much at
stake to trust all to him.  must go to Lancaster

 
  

 
   
 

 

 

 

    
         
    
  

 

 

Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. 11

 

myself, on the 20th, and be on the lookout for Ralph
Emerson."
She continued to write vigorously.

 

But we must return to the lazy giant, Pierce
Browning, whom we left indol ntly enjoying himself
on the porch of Wildflower Hall.

He had lit another cigar, and was puffing the smoke
in clouds into the fresh October air.

“ Was there ever the like of those ridiculous
boys?" he soliloquizcd, letting a waving circle of
vapor ascend from his lips. “ Off like spaniels on a
dead scent,"

Pierce ran his hand through his abundant hair,
and sat musing, holding his cigar idly between his

rigors.

“ A deuced handsome woman that was! And,
Jupiter, couldn‘t she ride i" was his next reflection.
“It isluckyl have such longrange e es. I made
her out from the porch here as clear y as Huntly
did from the gate. it’s blanked odd what brought
her here. I wonder if there is any bottom to it, or if
the thing is a clean sell?" '

He got up and strode the porch rather restlessly,
his heavy tread making the whole structure shake.

“Oh, Well there’s enough anyhow! There's Ben
Huntly with arms like steel bars; and Harry Waters
as spry as a cat. Trust them to give agood account
of themselves against any fair odds."

He resumed his seat, and sat for a minute or two,
musing and smoking.

“Hang it all!" he exclaimed. suddenly dashing
the cigar away as if it had burnt him. “ ow is it
when a. thing like this gets into achap‘s mind it
won’t let him alone. but must drag him as if he had
a team of mules pulling him? It is like being drawn
against one’s will, by invisible horses.”

He got up and stretched his lazy length.

“ By thunderl I won’t follow the boys to that
house," he ejaculated. “ It would take the laugh
ofl.‘ of them, and put it on me, if there's nothing in
this business. But I don’t see why I shouldn’t take
a stroll around through that bit of woodland. A
fellow interested in nature, as I am. And a sort of
poet, too. Yes, that‘s it, I want to meditate on my

ast poem."

With a laugh that seems to come up from the in-
nermost depths of his chest, so deep and fall was
it. Pierce turned away from the porch, and walked
toward the woodland in question. _

This wonded strip bordered the creek. coming
nearly to the garden wall. and extendiu in a long
curve along the water-course until far eyond the
tenant house. which it nearly approached.

A narrow lane cut through its center. extending
downward to where a light wooden bridge crossed
the creek. too narrow for any but foot passengers.

Pierce walkvd through the rustling leaves wi‘h
which the ground was well carpeted, the October
frosts having partly denuded the trees. and left an
open view down the vistas of the wood.

As he proceeded, under cover of the clustered
trees the elevated tenant house. which had been hid-
den hy n clump of low bushes. became visible to
him. And his attention was particularly caught
by a commotion which broke out at that moment.
A group of men ran from the house, toward the
shelter of the wood. At the same instant a face a

eared at an open window. Crack after crack of p s-
‘l-shots resoundcd, the first face at the window be-
ing replaced by another.

“May I be everlastineg confounded!" he said,
enerzetically. “if there isn‘t busmess afloat there.
And if I didn‘t know those faces at the windowthen
my eyes don‘t carry as far as I thought. These
chaps that are on the run want a stop put to their
little game. that‘s clear. And it looks to me as if I
was posted here to do it."

‘He stretched his huge frame as if he thought that
three common men to one 01' him was only a fair

match.
9‘ Where can I head them off?" he asked himst,

.side by side with his mighty competitor.

 

thoughtfully. “Hal I have itl The bridge Isaw
below here! I'll bet a. horse that is thes tthey

are making for. Hol for the bridge. The rst man
there is the best.“

He started to run through the woods with a. speed
of which his size did not give promise.

As Pierce reached this oint he saw the forms of
three men, on the other 5 do of the open lane, run.
aim: at full speed for the same passageway.

One of these—a slight-built, agile form—was sev-
eral yards in advance of the others. They saw
P‘ifercte at the same instant, and redonbled their
e or s.

But there was no indolence in the ant now. He
put on his best paces, comin down he hill in suc-
cessive leaps. which seeme to carry, him twenty
feet at each jump. \

" Hold, villainsl Hold, rascalsl" came from him.
like puffs from a steam whistle.

But there was no idea of holding in their minds.
The agile figure in front shot ahead like an arrow“,

in); to the bridge was reached.
ust ahead of Pierce, and barely beyond the reach of

is grasping hands. ,

Across the bridge they dashed, the fugitive in ad<
vance.

Suddenly giving up the chase, Pierce tried to stop
and meet the remaining two villains. But it was
fiptgiashyt in an instant to overcome the impetus of

s g .

Ere he could bring himself to rest and turn to face
them, they both sprung upon him, grasping him
tightly in their arms, and makinar strenuous efforts
to hurl him headlong over the sides of the bridge,
into the deep 00] of water below.

But they ca culated without their host. Pierce‘s
bulk was not made up of fat. but of muscle, and his
antagonists could no more hold him than they could
have held a lion.

With a m hty effort be wrenched loose from their
grasp, and urned to face them, his deep breast

caving with the violence of the exertion. and his
flashing eyes full of the spirit of the combat. . .

“So in hear-ties. Iam of the notion that ou've
ca h a. l‘artar." he cried, grasping each 0 them
by t e throat, and payinz no more heed to the blows
which they rained upon him than if they had been
falling feathers.

“ You want a little of the fun taken out of you,"
he exclaimed, givin the 51! hter of the two men a.
vast impulse with is righ hand that hurled him
over the. unprotected side of the bridge into the deep
water below. ' 4

With a quick surge to the other side, the more
burly rufl‘lan was hurled headlong into the some
cool October pool.

" Where are they?" called the voice of Ben Huntly,
who had Just appeared on the hill.

“ Gone in for a free bath. You can fish them out
if you .want them," Pierce coolly replied.

CHAPTER VII.
wan can To run conspnurone.
AN hour afterward, the form of the most
the three confederates appeared in on a lone part
of the Darby Road, some three m es from the city.
“ By the b azes!” cried Mark Preston for the un-
masked face new showed who he was. ‘ if those two
clums -!ooted fools the been captured. I ity them.
I won d not be in Will Wildflre‘s hands in t at lonely
wood ust now, for a barrel of silver."
He ooked ap rebensively about him. as ‘if not
quite sure that e ursult was over.

“I’d give sometb mg to be in the city,“ he con- .

tinned. “ Here's a three miles’ walk before me; or
a half-hour‘s wait for a streetcar—which I can‘t

venture on net now. Some of those devils may be ‘

still on my rack."
He turned with a, quick start, as the thud of a
horse‘s hoofs rung from the road below him. In

dread that this was one of his toes, he had already - I

Theo n- '
He darted in o it .

y

is of ‘

 

V -you were meddhng wit

v

13

run to the roadside. and was on the point of
:fimb ng the fence into the adjoining field, when he
ca ht sight of the animal Just rounding a sharp
ban in the road. A

“Well. I hard! think I will run from a women,”
he said to himse f, as a tall black horse, mounted by
the aceful figure of a lady rider. came rapidly to-
war him. .

He looked again at the approaching equestricnne,
and cried with an accent 0 joy:

“ Fortune favors the brave! If it is not Clara and
her favorite black. then I never saw them. So, m
lady you are out for an excursion. eh? Very wel ;
I will relieve you of your responsibility.”

A look of bitter malignity came upon his face. No
one would have recognized him now, in his rough
dress and sinister aspect of face, for the top ish ex-
ggisite which he usually appeared. Ev1deut y Mark

eston could lay two parts.

He station himself in the center of the road as
the black horse came near. ‘

' “ Will you be kind enough to halt?” he loudly cried.
“ I have a few words for you.”

The lady looked apprehensively at this threatening
figure, and seemed inclined to give reins to her horse
and run him down.

’ .“ Oh, it’s no tramp l” he exclaimed. “ I think you
might know me, Clara. And I have an idea that
you may find it to your advantage to obey me.”

A shudder shook the lady‘s frame. Her face grew

lid as marble. She drew up the trotting horse.
ut with an air of unwillingness. Evidently she did

not dare to rebel against his command.

He caught the bridle of the uneasy steed. flrml
holding him, and looking up with malignant triump
into her pale face, ‘

“ So. my lady,” he said, sarcastically. “ vou are out
on a pleasure excursion, eh? I would like you to

lain what brings you around this way.”

‘ My inclination!" she re lied, shortly and coldly.
_ “There was something e se besides inclination."

he remarked. suspiciousl . “ By Heaven. if I thought
my work—But you dare
not."

“ It is no matter what I dare or dorepotl” she ex-
claimed. “ Release in horse. I will not stand here
, to parley with and be insulted by you.”

‘ I am not qgite read yet. madaml" he sharply
responded. “ on will e kind enough to dismount
immediately. I have need of this horse. You can
get back to the city by the cars.”

’ “ What. Mark Preston!" she hotly cried. “ You
would not be such a brute as to—"

“Get'down at once!" he interru ted. in a fierce

, tone. “ I am not much given to ban ying words, as
you know. I must have this horse." ' ' i

“ But I ?” she said in distress. “ And in my riding-
habit? Oh, you cannot be so cruel!”

“Deuce take it. madam. what a bother you are
making about a trifle l” he impatiently cried. “Take
oi! your ridin skirt, or tuc it u , I don’t care
how. I must ave this horse; the 's the long and
short of it i"

Ahot flush of anger came into the face of the

er.

"‘ You shall not have the horse 1" was her stern re-
sponse. “ Loose that bridle, sir, instantly!"

“Hallo! you are going to rebel, my lady Clara?"
with a gesture of surprise and contempt. “ Perhaps
you forget whom« you are dealing with? I am not
read to release the bridle."

“ hen take the whip 1’ she exclaimed, in hot
anger.

At the same instant she brought the lash down
with a shar out on his hand. With an exclamation
of pain he oosened his hold, the restless, trampling
horse at once breaking away. ‘

“ You shall be sorry for‘ this I” was his furious
ejaculation.

2‘! cannot be more so than for ever having seen
you," she replied, turning er face toward him, beau-

 

Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

J

tiful in the flush of anger and the flashing sparkle of
the kindled eyes.

She waited for no reply. The impatient horse
thundered off at a nick gallop toward the cityI
leaving him alone in t e road.

" Sol she is turning under my foot!” came in
grinding accents from his lips. ‘ Does she think to
escape me so easily?”

He started to walk toward the city, following with
angry eyes the lessening form of the black steed on-
ward until it disappeared from view.

There was a deep venom in the fierce oath that
came from his lips, as he pulled down his cap over
his brows to avoid the rays of the lowering sun, and
strode onward along the dusty road.

He had proceeded about amile in this manner,
when he was overtaken by a street-car. of the hall?-
hour line that ran to Darby from the city. .

An hour more had passed when Mark Preston ap
peared in West Spruce street, and entered a house
situated upon the avenue.

He was met just within the door by a mischiev-
ous-looking mite of a. black boy, his eyes like two
fragments of chalk set in charcoal, but sparkling
with the luster of delight.

“l‘se got some’at, Marse Preston 2" he ejaculated,
with an impish laugh. “ I’Se done ot some’at.
Ain‘t been scootin’ roun’ Missy Maynar ‘5 house fur
jest unfliu'. Oh, hoopeel but ain‘t I got some‘at!"

“ The deuce you have!" replied Mark, to this un-
expected outbreak. “ What in the universe has the
grinning hound got?”

“ De wind jest puffed um down do street, an‘ I
notched um. An”, oh, my-eel didn’t de young gal
scoot arier uml But Pete was afar!”

The boy broke into a dance of delight. as he held
up a sheet of foreign-looking paper.

“ What is it, boy? A letter? ‘

“ "pec’ so. It’s all covered over wid pen scratches.
S’ ose date a letter?"

ark snatched it impatiently from his hand, and
opened out the crumpled sheet.

His eyes became fixed upon it curiously, a look of
excitement gradually creeping into his face. as he
perused the well-tilled sheet.

The little negro stood in a stooping posture. his
hands upon his knees, his gleaming eyes fixed eager-
ly upon the reader’s countenance, every expression
of which was echoed in the boy’s face.

“ By Jupiter! but this is a rich findl" cried Mark.
in delight, as he finished reading the long e istle.
“If we work our cards well, the game Wil pla
straight into our hands. You’re a jewel, Pete, and
owe you a quarter for this."

“ Hoop-ee l” screamed the boy. flinging his can to
the ceiling), and leaping after it. “Pete knowedl
You bet ete knowedl My eye, Morse Preston. if
you’d only ‘a’see’d de young gal a-runnin‘ arter
um, wid her hair all loose, an‘ jest de color oh 8. field
ob corn-stalks. An‘ if you‘d 'a‘ see’d Pete grab umg
an” scoot! 031! lawseel but it wasde high ole tunl‘

The imp d'mced again with delight, his midnight
face distorted with laughter.

Mark turned hastily away. his eyes again fixed on
the captured letter. ,

“The Germania should be in New York by the
25th, at the furthest," he said. “ But of course the
papers will advise us of that. I must have my trap
set in advance. Ralph Emerson goes stral ht to
Lancaster, and will leave the papers with ustice
Esmond while he looks after his own business.
Why, he might as well leave them in my. hands.
haze aflnotion I can manipulate my friend, the
jus me.

He walked back into the house, leaving Pete in-
dulging in a series of gymnastic exercises in the
marble floored vestibule. ' '

 

But. while Mark Preston was falling heir to such a
stroke of good luck, his abandoned friends were not
raring so finely.

It we return to the woodland adjoining Wildflower

7

an” we";«—*"-*~ '

 

 
   

  

rem»

 

 

,F

 

 

  
  
 

 

' trouble to fish you outhI fancy it is our duty

Hall. at a somewhat later hour than when we left it.
matters In that locality will present themselves to us
under a different aspect.

To two smooth-cranked beeches, not far removed
from the bridge, were tied the figures of two men,
apparently these two companions of Mark Preston.
But their unmasked faces now showed more clearly
who the really were. The one displayed the fea-
tures 0 Luke Lister, the English sport from whom
Will had won his wager on the day of the race. The
other was the ill-favored countenance which had
been seen, not long before, spying through the gate
of Wildflower Hall.

And not only their faces, but their backs, were
unmasked, they being stripped to the waist: while
the remainder of their clothes were streaming wet.

“ If l’d had my way,” said Pierce Browning sour-.
1y. “ you might have been left to et out of the creek
t 18 best way you could. But as ong as we took the

o
warm you‘up. You mig ttake cold from this s arp
October air.“

Will Wildfire stood by with a hard look upon his
face. His wounded back was hidden from sight, but
the Rain showed itself in his set lips.

“ y on. ladsl” he cried. sternly. “My day has
come sooner than these gentlemen calculated upon."

Ben Huntly and Harry Waters stood beside the
trussed-up rufllans, the first named holding the whip
which had been used on Will’s back.

A revengeful light filled their eyes, as they remem-
bered how these rufllans had dealt with their friend.
It was with no light weight that the whip in Ben‘s
srtlrong lgal-asp descended upon the bare shoulders of
t e s o . .

"Ogle!" he cried, as a groan of pain came from
the ruman‘s lips.

Handing the whip to his friend it was brought
down with equal force on the shoulders of the second
villain, who screamed with pain.

But the revengeful purpose of the friends of the
tortured ionih was not so easily to he set aside.

Blow a ter blow fell on the quivering flesh beneath
them, until it was cruelly scored. and the blood flow-
ing freely from the 0 en wounds.

At every cut a ye came from the ll of the less
ohdurate rufflan; but nothing more ha!) a groan
could be wrung from the set lps of Will’s previous
tormentor.

“ Tent" cried Pierce Browning. “ I think they are
sufficiently unished. What say on. Will?”

“Let the Eounds gol Ten for t ree is good meas-
ure," returned Will. "When I have given the same

onerous interest to their employer I fancyI shall
gee] satisfied.“

“I have onl one thing to say.” remarked Pierce
Brownln , as a loosened the bonds h which the
two villa us had been confined. “And hat is. that
it these cha s fall into my hands again they will not

et out wit a wettinioand a whipping. I promise
t e pair some broken nes on our next meeting of
this sort."

And the huge figure of the speaker gave full war-
rant tha he was able to be as good as his word.

Not a ord fell from the 1i 3 of the Englishman as
his punishers turned away; ut his eyes were full of
hate. His comrade was rolling on the grass in an
agony of pain.

,And so they were left. to hide their shame, and
drag themselves painfully away from the s ot where
outrage had so soon and so amply been to lowed by
punishment.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
A MATCH AT BILLIAEDS AND AT mars.

“I’D give mvcap to know_ who that woman is,"
said Will Wildfire. as he and Pierce Browning walked
down Chestnut street together.

“0h! bless the women!" replied Pierce. sarcasti-

cally. “ Don’t worry your young head about them. '

Why a. cha of your age can no more expect to un-
derstand the ways of women, than a cat can see
i

Wiu'WHdai-s; the whoroughbiiéd.

 

   

through the mystery of a mousetrap. Come. let‘s
go have a set-to at b iliards." '

“ Faith, you're not a Patriarch yourself, big as you
are," retorted Will. ‘ Did you see the rider of the
black horse? What was she like? Huntly pledged
himself not to tell me."

“ l‘rown, big eyes," said Pierce. “ Aquillne nose.
Small month. Round firm chin. Light complexion.
Tali, graceful, a regu ar beauty. Sat her horse like
a ueen.“

‘ The same, I vowl" cried Will. “ At the boat-
race I saw that face. She flung me a bouquet from
the top of the cliff at Rockland, tied with a ‘ Forget-
me—notf ribbon."

” Which was not intended for you. For how could
she know that you were going to take an our in the
race

“ Blame me if I know " re oined Will. “Except
it was by instinct. Anyhow have kept the ribbon. j
Well, I next met her at the ball at the Academ . ' ‘

That is. I take it to be the same. And there she s x ”

to warnin me. and gets me into a quarrel with
Mark Pres on, my preciou cousin, for insulting her.
Finally she appears like a ghost. on a hantom
horse. to send me help when l was certain y in bad
need of it. I’ll be ban ed if I wouldn‘t like to know
who she is. We never ad any problem at- Yale half
so puzzling."

“ Problems at Yale i" laughed Pierce. “Are on
going to compare a uestion in mathematics wit a
woman’s ariillces? , tell you what, my boy. you
have a school before you to which your college was
only a playground. ouTve got to learn the world.
But come, how about that match at billiards?“

“ See here," continued Will, heedles of the billiard r .»

proposition. " l have an anonymous warnin of an-
other kind this morning. From the same d,I
suppose. Read that. letter.”

Pierce took the open sheet proifered him, and ran 1
his eyes over it, a puzzled expression marking his

ace.

“This is a queer kind of concern," he at length ~ A
said. “It is nre Greek to me. Who is Ralph Em- ._‘
erson? Wha do his papers matter to you?" '

“Simgly that the pa rs referred to are those of
my den
1 inherit Wildflower Hall.” ..

"Whew!" whistled Pierce. “And if this will is
lost Mark Preston comes in for the estate?"

“ Yes; under a previous will.” .

“And is Ra! h Emerson likely to let himself he
wheedled onto his papers?“ ’ f

“He is a splendid hook scholar; but is very poorl . '
fosted in the ways of men. A villain like Mari
’geston,might very easily cheat him out of his ;
c arge.‘ _, v

f‘But the will is proved. His knowledge of its-the
w1tnesses—” .

“Might go for nothing unless thewill coulth
produced.‘ -,

“i tell you what it is," cried Pierce, energetically,

“ that girl. whoever she is, has a level head. You '
had best lay your track for Lancaster, and take
means to circumvent this worthg cousin of yours." v‘
W‘i‘n'I‘hat is my game for a t ousand!" rejoined

“ And now let us have that game of billiards."

The oung man laughed at the persistency of his
gigant 0 friend, and made no further objection to the '
pro sed game. ' _

“ on are a wise fellow," remarked WillI as he
took 01! his coat in the billiard-room. “Billiards! is
not finaloi'gny strong holds. You are going to beat
me a .

" Why, of course I am." answered Pierce laughing-
ly. "I only play whenI have a sure thirig— u .
what in the world is this you have hid on under ,
your coat?" I . a,

“Oan a rod in pickle fora friend of mine,” re- a
sponde Will. a stern look coming upon his face

He drew forth the identical whipwlth which "we .
of his enemies had been so severely castigated.

 
 

uncle; one 0 them the will through which \ .

 

, 14 Will Wildfire. the Thoroughbred:

"Iam prepared for m next meeting with Mark

Preston.’ he fiercely sai . “ It is not in the Wildfire
blood lightly to to at an injury. Ishali pay him
back with compoun interest. ‘
, “ Why. what a blood-thirsty chap you are!" cried
Pierce with affected horror. ‘ A mild-spoken.
smooth-faced be like youl I am half afraid to dis.
count you at bil ards. for fear you will grow wild
for revenge."

“Agame is one thing. A battle is another,” re-
joined Will. “ And you have not won yet. Take
your cue. "

Nor did he find winning such an easy task. Will
was not quite without experience at billiards, and
his sure eye and steady hand were able aids in the
game. Old player as Pierce was. he quickly dis-
covered that victory was not to be so easily gained
as he had anticipated.

And the Yale student had learned one other lesson
necessarv to success in life—never to despair at one
defeat. 'Victory comes from perseverance asweii
as from skill, and asthe games went on and he be-
came warmed up to the contest, he pushed his
antagonist closer and closer.

" No discounting this game. eh. Pierce?" said Will
' as he took the cue, and began the best run he ha
made yet.

Ten points scored. and Pierce began to grow ner-
vous. Fifteen—he paced the floor impatiently.
Sixteen—-seve:iteen—elghteen—and the balls in a
corner. ‘
“'Vghen in the name of mercy are you going to
s.op .

“ With the ame," answered Will, triumphantly,
nursing the With a skill he had caught from his

oprponent.

ineteen—twenty—and,’a miss.

" Goodl” cried Pierce. “Three points short of
game, and he has lost the cue. Here’s for my ten
run. and out."

A nine run it was. some difficult shots being made.
And for the tenth the halls lay in such neat position
that Will involuntarily gave up the game, going to
the closet for his coat.

" birds are not to be caught with chafi', you
see," laughed Pierce, so sure of his shot that be
game? his ball with the utmost carelessness-and

l . -

" Nor young players with miss-cues,” Will laugh-
. ingly retorted. returning to the table, as his vexed

‘ , opponent threw down his one in disgust.

, t‘hThe balls lay in an easy position. One—two—

ree— . '

"And . amel" cried Will. “So much for Yale
pluck ag nst Philadelphia skill."

“ I'll be hanged if you haven’tgot the making of a
player in on. boyl" cried Pierce. with sudden
ener y. “ ome, try.your luck again."

“ at much!” rejoined Will. “ A cannon-ball
never hits twice in the same hole. I don‘t look for
more than one victory. in one do . from the re-
doubtable fierce Browning. Besl es, look at the
clock! It‘s for past midnight.”

,The two players had not noticed the comings and
goings of other f nenters of the saloon. They
were quite ignorant t at they had been observed by
sinister e es. and that a whispering. of no romise
to them. ad been kept up at the other en of the

hall. .

Their advent to the street was preceded by that of
these whisperers. The failed to perceive t at the
were being stealthily ogged byanumber of dar

orms.

“ Here we strike ofl, my boy.” said Pierce as the
reached a corner beyond which their paths diverge .
“ More‘l‘uck to your elbow next time. You’ve got it

on.
' And showed a bit of it. I fancy." laughed Will.
as he shook hands, and they separated.
. The street into which he turned was dark, and
Seemed deserted.
But, he had not gone a hundred paces along it ere
l /

. v)- .

i

a
‘

 

the forms of a. half-dozen men suddenly appeared
before him.

Will drew slightly to one side to let them pass.
Instead of that. however. he rec ~1v0d a violent L] i v
on the side of his head that sent him reeling into the
street.

“ Go for him. lads!“ cameavoice. which he recog-
nized as that of the English sport.

But, taken b surprise as the boy had been. his old
training serve him in good stead. He was instant-
ly on his guard. and backed. step by step. before his
antagonists, until he reached the shelter of the op-
posite wall.

“ Come on, you cowardly dogsl" he cried. “ Six
to one as you are, I don‘t care a fig for the crew of
you.

With cries and curses his toes had followed, strik-
ing fiercely at him, but kept oil by his skill in the art
of self-defense.

And now. when he felt the backing of the wall be-
hind him, he began to take the offensive, knocking
two of his antagonists headlong into the street, wit
two well aimed blows.

“ Come on i” cried Will. as he warmed up to the
work." " I am ready for your whole cowardly
gang.

But six to one is severe odds. They crowded in
on him in a body. striking from every side. For
every hit he got in he received one or two in return.
Finally a staggering blow of a slung shot. or some
hard weapon. fell upon the back of his head. from
one of his foes who had got partly behind him.

Will was sent reeling out into the circle of his foes,
whose blows now fell thick and heavy.

“ Pile it into himl Punch the internal hound l"
yelled the Englishman, pressing forward.

But. Will had recovered his Wits, and dashed his
left hand into the face of the sport. with a force that
knocked that individual clean oil! of his feet.

“ That’s for you i" shouted Will.

“ And here’s for the rest of thcml” exclaimed a.
new voice.

Evidently a powerful ally had come to Will’s old.
His antagonists fell to right and left. like leaves be-
fore the wind, while an exclamation from Pierce
Browning‘s vigorous voice accompanied each fall.

“ Down, rogues! Down, dogs!" he yelled. as his
mighty fists struck sledge-hammer blows.

‘ And down it is!” exclaimed Will. givingkthe last
of his foes a settler between the eyes which 'nocked
him clear out of time. I

“You’re a horse. Piercel" cried Will, pressing his
friend‘s hand. as he drew up beside him in expecta-
tion of another onset from his discouraged foes.

But they evxdently had the fight pretty thoroughly
taken out of them. They scrambled to their feet
and. ran in the opposite direction, as if not caring
again to encounter those lists of steel. The last of
them. indeed. received an aid to his fli ht from
Pierce’s heavy boot. which raised him in 0. id: that
sounded as if it must have broken some of his bones.

" How is this. boy 7” he asked. “Who are they?"

“The sport we gave the whipping in the woods."
replle'l Will. “ He has raised a gang to punish me,
it seems.”

_ “_And it’s lucky I took the idea of coming back to
1nv1te you to dine with me to—morrow. You were in
a confounded rough circle when I came up."

“ I hope you will always be as close by when I get

in a row,” replied Will. pressing his hand gratefully.

CHAPTER IX.
A man AND A MATCH. -

IT was no second-rate dinner to which Will Wild-
fire had sat down with Pierce Browning. That good-
natured glant_never did anything by halves.

They were lingering now over the nuts and wine.
conversing gayly over the events of the past few

§ .

day. .

“By the way, my boy." said Pierce. stretching
his limbs in his lazy way; “ have you any business
on hand for the rest of the day?"

 

 
 
  

 

Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

 

" Nothing that couldn’t be as well done ten years
from now. ’

“ Then what do you say to aturn behind my hays?
It is a glorious afternoon for a drive, and you have-
n’t been on the Wissahickon road yet."

" l’m agreeable," rejoined Will.

“ I‘here’s a bit of sport on the carpet,” continued
Pierce. “The English athletic games come of? to-
day at Schuetzen Park.”

“You are not calculafing to take a hand in them 2’"
asked Will, with a quizzical look at his laz friend.

“ No, nor a foot either. I hardly thin c I would
make a fortune on the run, or Jump; though I
mi ht be of some use if it came to a close hug. We
wil stop there, at any rate.” -

It was not lon before they found themselves upon
the road. behin a handsome pair of long-siepping
bays. and seated in a light, onevseated carriage.

‘ This is what I like." remarked Pierce. skillfully
handling the reins, as they entered upon the smooth
roadway of the park.

This led through the ark, over the Schuylkill by
the Girard Avenue bri kc, and around in the neigh-
borhood of the future Centennial buildings. Open
fields as at marked the locality of the coming
grand disp ay of art and industry.

It was a splendid day for driving. and the road
was covered with gay equipages of every she e and
size, all trolling along .at a sober trot, un er the
keen surveillance of the Park guards, who quickly
repressed any indication of breaking into a racing

' speed.

But above Belmont and in the broad, hillside
sweep of the road toward Chamouny, this guard
was not so rigidly kept, and Pierce shook out some
more speed from his mettled animals.

They were near the steep descent to the Falls
Bridge, when, from a side-road, there unexpectedly
appeared the form of a tall black horse, bearing the
slender figure of a lady rider. dressed in a sweeping
riding-robe of blue, and sitting her horse with ad-
mirable skill and grace.

She caught sight of them at the same instant, in a
quick, embracin glance. Turning her head away,
so as to conceal er face, she shook the reins, and
turned her horse down the stee road.

“Did you see her face?“ wh pared Pierce. “It
is your girl, for a thousand! And she knows ou.
llinolkyhow she is dashing down that hull—Shall fo -

ow ‘

“ Yes." answered Will. drawing a deep breath.

He might not have been so quick with his assent if
he had known how reckless a driver Pierce Brown-
ing could be. The road was steep, narrow, and
broken, but he turned his mettlesorno animals into it
at full speed, plunging down the gorge at a fright-
fully dangerous rate.

The lady rider was two-thirds of the wa to the
bridge. She turned her head over her shou der in a.
nervous 1glance backward. and then touched her
horse wit the whip, as if fearful of being crushed
by this reckless team.

Will. bold as he was, held his brrath, looking keen-
ly to the right and left for the safest (place to leap,
when the crash which he feared shonl come.

“Now don’t get nervous," said Pierce, in uiet
sarcasm. “I’ve ot hold of these ribbons. less
yci)u, Roy, 1 could ve these horses down a preci-

ce.

“All right," returned Will, in a resigned tone
"There's one comfort: you’ll smash flatter than I
will if it comes to a spill.”

But the bays kept their footing noblfv. They
reached the level tground at the bottom 0 the de-
clivity, and were rawn u to a walk on the bridge,
with askill for which W 1 had not given his new
friend credit. ‘

“Lurd save you, boy," remarked Pierce coolly.
“Didn’t vou see that my neck was in danger as we 1
as yours? Now I think too much of this precious
neck of mine to run any risks with it."

“ Maybe you don’t call it running risks,” rejoined

 

Will, laughingly. “ Only, if I wanted a quiet family
coachman, I hardly thing you would answer for the
situation.”

“ You asked me to overtake the girl on the black
gorge," explained Pierce, as they emerged from the

ri go.

“ Precisely. And I ity the girl on the black horse
if you had overtaken or on that 510 e." .

There she goes. on the road to issahickon," re-
marked Pierce. " We’ve got a s lendid level here.
and the Park guards spread out t in. Shall I make
another burst for it?"

“Let out," was Will's reply.

Shaking his reins, and touching the of! horse with
the _whip, Pierce soon had the mottled bays again in
ra ld motion.

he black horse was not a hundred feet in ad.
vance. But the fair rider was not inclined to be so
easily overtaken. A glance backward showed her
that she was again pursued. and in a moment her
horse was put at his speed. It looked at first as if
the bays would soon wipe out the spacefitween
them. But when the black got fairl do to his
work there wasa diflerent tale to tel . He darted
along the road in an easy, far-reaching trot which
leftlhlils ursuers well in the rear.

Pierce, in a half—an ry admiration. "She sits her
horse as if she was 1cm to it. But she has t to
do better work if she wants to distance me.
like the idea of being beaten by a woman."

He touched his horse with the whilp. The fiery
animals. little used to the lash. almost coped out of
their traces, dra ging their heavy load along as if it
had been but a eother.

The race had now become exciting. There in ad~
vauce went the black horse, warmed to his work,

9 shot if that girl can’t ride!" growled

 

and darting along like a racer, while his skilledl dy V

rider sat her saddle as quietly as thou h she was at
a parade trot. A stone’s throw behin came on the
thundering bays. burning with that spirit of emula-
tion which horses feel as warmly as man.

On—on—for a mile the race continued, the black
slowly forging ahead. Stron as the bays were.
they were overweighted, and t e rattling pace soon
began to tell upon them. The equestrienne looked
back again, waving her handkerchief in triumph, as
her horse broke into afast gallop and darted like
an arrow into the Wissahickon roa .

“ Shoot me if she ain't laughing at us!" exclaimed
Pierce, discontentedly. “ ere a something rims
about that girl, I’ll swear there is. She is w go-
ing for, Will.” »

“ But what a ridiculous Wild-goose chm she is
leading me," rejoined Vl ill angrily. “I hate all this
confounded mystery.” I

“ Ohl let her have her little fun if she likes it. It
amnses her and don‘t hurt you," re lied Pierce.
reining in his horses with a‘strong has , as another
whistle sounded from the guards. ,

The black. horse was out of sight along the bends
of the winding creek where the romantic Wissahic-
kon comes pourin own between its lofty wooded
slopes. giving to t 5 portion of Fairmount Park the
wild charm of the mountain brook.

"How about the athletic sports of our English
friends?" asked Will. » '

“ We will strike them on our way back." replied
Pierce, drawing up in front of the Hermitage, a
noted resort on the Wlssahickon drive. "We want
a little refreshment first for man and beast."

It was an hour afterward when they reached the
lrcality where the games were being conducted.

It was a broad level space. hard-trodden on which
the competitors dis layed their s: ill, while around
them were gathers thousands of interested specta-

tors.

Pierce and Will pressed to the front of the ring of
spectators overlooking the space in which vi ory
was sought for in lea mg, running, and stone and
hammer throwing, an in various other athletic 08¢
erc sea.

/.

"=1

v ’ r

 

 

16 , Will Wildfire. the Thoroughbred.

Awrestling match between two vigorous cham-
pions dwas being contested when they reached the
groun .

Various comments were made and bets offered as
the even character of the match became evident.
With straining muscles and starting veins the com-
‘batants sought to hurl each other to the ground, but
without success.

" Do you see yonder?" asked Pierce, with a nudge
to Will. “ [t is your sorebacked friend for a shil-
lin ! And laying himself out for a bet. Do you
fee like acceptin his challenge?"

Will looked in t c direction indicated and recog-
nized Luke Lister, the English sport. he was the
center or a group of busily-talking men, and was
loudl offering to bet. a

“ by are you lookin so grim ?" asked Pierce.
“Have on not had satis action enough out of the
man? is right eye is in mourning yet from the
square knock-down you gave him last night."

“Itis not he that troubles me," answered Will.
“Do you see that small built, fogpishly-di‘essed in«
dividual to his left? The one wit the waxed mus-
tache?" °

“ Yes. But I do not know him."

“ It is Mark Preston—the man who escaped ou at
the bridge. I fancy that my vow may soon 9 ac-
complished. " '

" Your vow?"

“Yes. To wear this whip until I could repay him
with compound interest for the punishment he gave
me. I have a notion to add a new game to the list
on hand to-day."

“ Be careful!" warned Pierce. “ He may be sur-
rounded bv his friends." ,

“ I would not care if he was surrounded by fire,"
rejoined Will, relapsing into a stern and gloomy
a: once.

The wrestlinglmatch at this moment ended in a
fall for the  ter of the champions. The victor

was greeted h aloud shout of gratulation, as he
walked triumphantly from the ring.

And now it was announced that be next com eti-
‘tion was one open to all comers, an overhand 'ng
of a twenty-flve-pound stone.

“You'had better try Xour hand at that, Pierce,"
said Will. jestingly. ‘ fellow of your build ought
to give it an amazing send.”

‘ Not much. I have not been brought u on such
porridge," replied Pierce, with a lazy stretc . “Now
a t ht, trim college chap like you might go in there
wit some hope to win.’

“I beta ten I can beat that work anyhow,” re-
‘marked Will, as one after another of the competi-
tors tried their skill at utting the heavy stone.

“Done!” exclaimed ierce. “I take that bet, if
only to see what there is_in you.”

“ I will show you that it is not brag, anyhow,” re-
plied Will, stepping forward into the ring.

. Some ten competitors had entered for the game.
'and had qut the stone with varied success; two of
them ha ng considerany surpassed all the others.

There was some surprise manifested as Will Wild-
flre walked forward and altered himself as a com-

~ petitor. His handsome, youthful face and gentle-
manl attire contrasted strongly with most of those
who ad preceded him.

Varied cries arose from the spectators.

“ He won’t do it i”

“ Yes he will. Look at his build.”

“ I'll bet he hasn't the muscle."

From one quarter a laugh of_ derision arose. It
was from the group which contained Luke Lister.

Will cast a quick glance in that direction, and then

Ste ped ht‘ly up to the standing point. As he did
so, is too 0 h a coat and handed it to one of the
u as ‘

“ can onl try. gentlemen," he said. ushing up
his sleeve an displaying a well-modele , muscular

arm.
Quiet fell u on the throng as the outhful com-
petitor lifted heavy stone and he d it lightly on

A, ,

 

his open palm. Surging his arm once, twice beneath
the weight, he stepped briskly to the mark and gave
a third uick, vigorous surge. Every eye followed
the missile in its flight through the air, and a loud
shout arose as it struck the ground with a. strong
thud—five feet beyond the furthest mark of the pre-
vious throwers.

“By the Lord, he’s done it!" cried an admiring in-
flividhual, with a vehemence that made everybody
aug .

“And now, gentlemen," said Will, “it there's no
objection I would like to propose another game. It
is one that is not often playe on this ground, but I
think you will enjoy it.’
it ‘1"Yesl Yes!" came in a shout.
1 .

Will had been looking sternly toward the spot
occupied b his foes. Now, witha quick movement,
he darted n that direction, and in a moment more
came back into the ring, dragging Mark Preston by
the collar.

“This young gentleman," Will explained, “took
the opportunity to give me a private cowhiding a
week or two ago. I have been waiting for a public
op ortunity to pay him back."

s he spoke the whip which he had carried con-
cealed appeared in his right hand.

The astonished victim yelled lustily for help, and
Luke Lister and his arty sprung forward. But they
were met midway y the gigantic bulk of Pierce
Browning.

“ Back!” he shouted. “ l have a fin er in this pie!
The first man of you who steps an inc further will
have me to settle with.”

As the villains drew back, cowed by their op o-
nent’s tone and miflity bulk, Will brought his w ip
shrewdly down on ark Preston‘s shoulders. Stroke
after stroke fell uickly, dealt with all the vigor of
his arm, over s oulders, head, and face of the
crouching and screaming victim. It was all so quick
and unexpected, indeed, that there was little time
for any one to interfere, if they had wished.

“ There. gentlemen. is my game," said Will, as he
dashed his foe fiercely from him. “it is the ame
that some call revenge, and some retribution. l ope
you have liked it."

He walked away, followed by his big friend.

“Let us have

 

CHAPTER x.
m esauma mamas.

“Have you read the news this morning?" asked
Lucille Maynard of her mother, as she sat looking
over the morning paper.

“No, my dear, what is it? Not anotheroutrage in
China, I hope; or a rebellion in Russia?”

“ China and Russia! No indeed; it is much near-
er home. It is Philadelphia with which we are con-
cerned; and our own precious cousin, Will Wild-

“You don’t sayi" cried the mother, holdin up her
hands in surprise. “ Wh v, what mischief as the
young blade been at now?h ' .

“Simply cowhiding Mark Preston, iii the face of
several thousands of eople." ’

“ Gracious, child! on don‘t tell me that? Well
Ideclarei But it was no more than he deserved. l
have’seen the time I would have liked to do it my-

“ So Will has gleased you for once.”

“But do rea it! I am anxious to know how it
ha pened.”

ucille read the account, which was somewhat

colored by the imagination of the reporter. The
latter, however, had managed to learn Will’s rovo-
cation to his mvengeful act, and resented tin a
way that was not ikely to gain t e whipped man
much sympathy.

“.Served him right," was likerl to be all the salve
Fhicth the public would pour on t e wounds of Mark

res on.

“ And they had such a time to escape," continued.

 

 

  

 

Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. 1'?

 

Lucille. dropping the pa r. “Willand his friend
were attacked by a crow of rough characters; and
some others came to their aid; and for a little while
there was a severe battle.“

“ They were not hurt. I hope?"

“ Oh, no! They came out all right.“

‘“ Well that is some comfort."

“But that is not all the news, mother. Herei: a
shipping item of some importance. The Germaiia
has arrived in New York."

“ The Germania?" inquirin ly

“Yes. Don’t you rememier? The s (amer that
Ralph Emerson was to sail in."

“ Goodness! So it is! I had forgotten.”

“I must set ofi for Lancaster at once," replied the
young lady, rising decisively.

Simultaneously with this conversation. Will Wild-
fire was walkin leisurely down South Broad street.
He was decided y at ease in his mind, the weight of
disgrace which had rested upon him having been so
signally removed.

“ See here, Will," cried Ben Huntly, meeting him
opposxte the Academy of Music, "is this all ster-
ling, solid, bottom-level fact?"

“ Hardly," smiled WilL " There is a coating of im-
agination to skim off."

‘* But you salted him? That isn’t ammon?"

“ Why, Ihave a notion he is not eeling very com-
fortable just now.“

“ Give us your hand, boy! I‘ll be hanged if vou
ain’t worth your weight in gold-dust!" And Ben
shook his hand with a fervor that would have
crusth any delicate bones. “Why didn’t you tell
me? I would have ven my cap to be there."

“The whole 1) ness was sprung upon me," re-
plied Will. “I would have given something for
your seasoned lists for one five minutes. Luke Lis-
ter and his gang of roughs gave us lively work, I
Eromise you. I fancy l got in a good half-dozen

nook-downs. But you should have seen lazy Pierce.
Such a wakening up you never dreamed of.”

“ Pierce Browning? ’

“ch. Why they lay before him like sardines
it]; a box. He just mowed a clear swath through

em.

“ Oh! my hard luck. Why wasn‘t I there?”

“I don‘t say. that we escaped without some severe
knocks.” continued Will. “They were in force; but

art of the crowd joined our side, and we drove

hem clear off the field.” .

“ Good for you!" exclaimed Huntly, m admira-
tion. “ Hang me if I won't let you beat me in our
next boat-race! I’d like to join you in your walk,
Will; but I‘m on business."

“Don't let me detain you."

Huntly walked away. laughing to himself, and
claplping his knee with his hand.

“ t was the neatest job out." he exclaimed.
“ at boy has the making of a man in him, and no
mistake."

Will walked slowly on, smi‘ing at the enthusiasm
of his friend.

He had assed S was street and was at some dis-
tance in he nex square, when he met a young
lady, who was walking in the opposite direction,
in who had dropped her vail just before meeting

1m.

She seemed to hesitate as the approached. For
an instant she almost stopped: and then moved
quickly forward again: _

Will looked at her with sur rise. There was some-
thing indefinitely famrhar in ler form.

_She paused again, when she had nearly passed

m1.
“ Excuse me, Mr. Wildfire,” she said. " But—I

ho&e you—"
ll had turned at her first hesitating utterance.
“Proceed, miss," he politely remarked. “I shall
be happy to hear what you have to gay."
“ Is t true that on had that ray with Mr.

Preston?" she ask . in an agitated tone.
. “I punished him slightly,” returned Will. " If you

 

are she whom I suppose you to be you will not
blame me for it."

“ It is no malter who I am " came the voice from
behind the vail, whoa-e thic texture permitted the
merest outlines of her face to be seen. “ But you
do not know Mark Preston. You have been warned
against him before. You have had a foretaste of
the lengths to which he will go. After this public
dis race I fear—-—”

“ thank on for your concern," said Will, grate-
fully. "Bu? you need have no fears for me. I
fancy myself uite a match for Mark Preston."

“Yes, esl n the light perhaps. But nofiinlhe
dark. ou are too open—too direct. He will not
meet you openly. But beware that he does not
take on unawares."

. Wi smiled, and looked, in his oung self-assur~
ance. able to cope with a dozen sue foes.

"Does he acknowledge to the whipping?" he ask-
ed. "I fancied that he would have a score of reasons
for his scarred face."

“ He does nothing but curse, and vow vengeance,"
she replied. “But you must obey my warning!
He is a dangerous and unscrupulous foe. And-and
——do not implicate me, I pray yo“. It would be tel»
rible to me should he learn that I have warned you."

“You need not fear. Particularly as you keep
yourself so closely concealed from me," said Vii]
discontentedly. “I am sure I made a strong eflort
to see on yesterday.”

“ Bu you could not overtake m Selim my bonny
black!" she rejomed, with a sud en laug . “What
a race we bad! And the way you drove down that
hill! I expected nothing but that you would be
dashed to pieces."

“I ex ected little more myself." acknowledged
Will. “ y friend is a regular Jehu of a driver." .

“ But he could not match my Selim on a ievel,"sho'
laughineg rejoined. _ .

“You ran away from me then; I hope you Will

not now. How am I to avoid betraying you unless I . .
‘ know out” i ‘ >

“W at a lawyer you would make!” replied the
lady still laughing.

“ at you cannot escape meas easily as that. -I
have your forget-me-not. ’

“ hich I am sure was never intended for you."

“ 13nd I have your face imprinted upon my memc

“I would not be too sure of that."

“ You do not know what a quick photographic
machine a pair of sharp eyes are," laughed il .

“ You may be mistaken. ‘ a

“ Prove it to me, then."

"Is the face on your mental negative anything like
this?" asked the lady, suddenly throwing up her
vail and revealing one of the most beautiful couan
nances his e es had ever rested u on. the eyes now
sparkling w th mirthful light, and he lips seeking in
vain to repress their smiles.

“No.” exclaimed Will. starting back with a ges-
ture of surprise and admiration. “It is a faded-out
old photo raph as com ared with the lovely reality.
How con (1 you have ad the heart to h do» such
beauty behind that envious vail?” . ,

“ Beware 1" she crird, holding up her linger in ad-
monition. and t(again letting fal the vail. ‘ You are
not to be trus , I see. But you will remember my
warning?"

Her voice took a lgraver tone.

“I certainly shal. But you—why need you fear
such a man as Mark Preston?‘

“ Do not ask me! He has a deep—a fearful hold
upon mel" Her voice was now thrilling with emo-
tion, as she turned and walked hastily away;

The noon express-tram from Philadelina came
steaming into' the broad-flagged station at neuter.
and halted at one of the coolest. most comfortable-
looking depots. on its lo Westward journey.

It was the afternoon 0 the dayln which t e events
just narrated had happened. Among the passen-t

gers who descended from the cars were two of the . . '

  

    

_ 13 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

 

persons with whom we have become acquainted in
base pages. One of these was Lucille Maynard. the
pretty cousin of Will Wildfire. The other was Mark
region, also his cousin, but any thing but good-

looking just at present. .

His hat was drawn down low over his eyes. But it
could not conceal an ugly scar that crossed his
cheek, and which was patched up with, court-
1) aster.

He started as his eyes fell upon the fair face of the
young lady, who passed him without noticing his
presence.

".Ahal" he muttered to himself. “ Is that the way
the cat jumps? So the pretty Lucille is bent on hav-
ing a finger in the pie? Poor girl, I fancy yeu are
destined to be disafipointed."

He placed himse upon her footsteps. following
her to a residence in one of the upper streets of the
town. Lucille was intending to spend her time here
with a friend to whom she had written.

The spy saw her enter but saw nothing of the
gust of enthusiasm with which she was welcomed by

er young lady friend.

He turned away with a look of satisfaclion.

“ When you are on the track of foxes it is always
best to know their hiding-places,” he muttered.
“ And now for my friend, the justice.”

The office of Justice Esmond was situated on a
business street of the city of Lancaster, not for from

, the railroad station.

That gentleman—a. mild-faced, blue-eyed person,
with not a particle of guile in his composition—look-
egi up in some surprise as Mark Preston entered his
0 cc. ‘

“I am glad to see you," he said; “ but what in the
world ails your face? A person might think you had
been in a railroad accident." x

“Nearl as bad.” replied Mark, with a weak effort
at a. lad . “ A runaway, a smash-up, a roll down a
lull. Al not very comfortable, you know. And
rather hard on tender skins.” '

“ You don’t say i” exclaimed the sympathetic
justice, swallowing his lie Whole. “I am sure I am
very sorry." _

“ Oh. it is nothing! It will soon heal," Mark hastily
re lied. You got my letter?"

“Ye, and the room is at your service. You will
not want it long you say i"

“Not more than a couple of weeks," rejoined
Mark. “I haye some business to transzct in Lan-
caster. and Will need office room, as I told you.“

" This will make you a very good office,“ replied
the justice, leading the way to a small apartment,
, o eniug on a. side street, and adjoining his own

o co. v
“ I fancy that will do.”
AndMark took a comprehensive view of the sur-
' rounding: with more meaning in it than his unsus-
pecting riend imagined.

I CHAPTER XI.
RALPH EMERSON ARRIVES.

“ YOUR dear friend and cousin will not love you
any the more for the beauty marks you have oft
upon his face,” remarked Ben Huntly, as he leaned
easily back in his chair in Will Wildflre’s hotel apart-
ment.

“ I suppose not,” re olned Will, careleSslv. "Not
that I care much. ave a cigar, Ben? .Here are
some prime Conchas."

‘j Don't care if I do,” replied Huntley. “I say

. Will "—as he lit his cigar—" is it true that the will of
your uncle has not yet reached this country, and that

here hasbeen found a previous will, giving Mark
Preston the estate?”

“ This cizar draws confoundedlv bard," said Will.
“ Yes. I believe there was something of the sort. I
shall have to chan o my ci ar-store.”

“ Well—if vou on't ta. 6 matters blamed easvl
And with a fellow like Mark Preston to deal with 1
Sup ose he should manage to gist hold of and destroy
the net will, before it u prove i”

 

“ It would be deuced uncomfortable." rejoined
Will, who had just got his cigar to smoking easily,
and who seemed more pleased with this success than
troubled about Mark Preston.

“ But did you not tell me that you had received a
letternwarmng you that some rascality was in
train?

“ By Jupiter! es. I had forgotten all aboutjt ”

“ Hang me if wouldn’t make a harder fight for a
fortune if I was in your shoes i" cried Huntly, impa-
tiently. “ By what steamer is the gentleman with
the leiter to arrive?" ,

“ By—let me see—by—I think it was the Ger-
mania." .

“ And the Germania is in."

“ Well, if that ain’t rich!" cried Will, starting up
so suddenly as to overthrow his chair. “ And I was
to be in Lancaster to Checkmate some confounded
scheme, that I know no more about than the man in
the moon. I must be 03 at once. You will excuse
me. Ben? Business. you know."

“ I wouldn't go before the next train. it I were
you,” Huntly dryly rejoined.  You are like a. horse
that needs a. fire built under it to make it go, but
which there is no holding back when it’s once start-
e .’

“ I never did more than one thin at a time in In
life," answered Will impatiently. ‘ That’s the Wil -
fire vein, to do one thing at one time, and to do that
with all our might.” ’

“ You will have to wait two hours for the next
train, at any rate," said Huntly, consulting a news-
paper time»table. “ So you Will have time to finish
your cigar and lay out some plan of action."

“Plan of actionl I never laid a plan of action in
my life. I go in for taking the chances, and laying
my trump cards whenever I hold them. Eh a tele—
gram for me?"

This was addressed to a hotel servant, who had
just appeared at the door. '

Will tore open the telegram and read it hastily, a.
pe lexed look coming upon his_fac9.

“ s there any answer?" asked the servant.

“ Yes—One moment.” He read the epistle again.
“Yes. Send this."

He hastily jetted down a few words in pencil, and
ban .led them to the servant, who disappeared.

“ Read that, Ben,‘.’ said Will, turning to his friend.
;' {here’s the deuce to pay now, or I’m much mis-

a en.

Huntly took the paper, and read its contents

aloud, as follows:

“Do not come to Lancaster. The will has been
stolen. It is robably in the hands of a little black
boy, a. servan ‘ of Mark Preston. Watch the trains
coming in from Lancaster. He will likely be on one
of them. Have him seized and searche .

“Looms MAYNARD."

The two friends looked at each other, with peculiar
expressions.

“ The ball is up," cried Huntly. “Who is Lucille
Maynard?”

"That is the name of a young lady cousin of
mine, whom I have lost sight of," replied Will. “ She
has not forgotten me. it seems. I believe she has
expectations from this wlll.—-Wheu is the next
Lancaster train in, Ben?"

“ It is due inside of an hour."

“Then let's make for the depot instanter. if we
can onl get hold of this fragment of midnight.—
But er aps you have other engagements."

“ o. I can go with you."

In five minutes more the two friends were in the
street, en mu for the Pennsylvania Railroad depot.

 

But the reader must accompany us to Lancaster,
to trace the events which gave rise to this tel 111.

Vigilaut as Lucille Maynard was she had v elded
to the solicitations of her friend, in whose judgment
she placed great confidence.

They had closely consulted the time-tables to-

    

  

Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

19

 

tether and found that there would be no through
train from New York to Lancaster until the next
morning, except one that would arrive late at
night.

“It is not at all like] that he will come in that,"
said the friend. “An I scm'cely think you would
like to be waiting for a train at midnight. "

“ I hardly know,” replied Lucille doubtfully.

“ vlll tell you what. Sup£ 059 you describe this
Mr. flmerson to my father. Vc can get him to wait
for the train, and to see if your friend comes in it.”

“ If it will not be too much trouble?"

“ Certainly not. It will be no new experience for
him to stay up till midnight."

And so it came to ass that the brother waited for
the train, and pasSe the arriving passengers under
inspection, and announced that no such person had
arrived.

That is what comes of using a second-hand pair of
eyes. Mr. Emerson had arrived. But the descrip-
tion had given the outhful lookout an utter y
wrong impression of im, as descri tions are very
apt to do. So that the person 100 ed for passed
under the eyes of the spy unrecognized.

It was ei ht o‘clock the next morning. Mark
I‘reston h been for nearly an hour in his new
office. adjoining that of Justice Esmond, He was
busily engaged in reading the morning papers when
the ‘ustice looked in upon him.

“ liarly this morning, ‘ was the jocular remark.

“Yes. There isn’t so much comfort in a hotel,
that one wants to lie abecl late.”

“ How‘s the face? You must have had a rascally
tumble."

“it feels something better.” was the reply. If I
don’t have it yet out of the horse that threw mel"
He gave vent to his suppressed feelings in a fierce
oath. directed against the horse.

“ Oh! hang it all! the poor brute did not mean any
harm,” ex ostulated the ‘ustice. 1

giant I 0. I‘ll teach im a trick worth two of
t at. ‘ .

Justice Esmond withdrew to his own oflce.
Kind-hearted as he was he felt somewhat shocked
by his tone of bitterness against a brute animal.

A sour smile marked the villain’s face as he re-
sumed his reading. Those white teeth of his glit-
tered with a tiger-like gleam.

The door of his office that looked upon the side
street cautiously opened, and a face peered into t no
room. It was a small. round, comical-looking face,
of midnight blackness.

“Marse Preston," came in cautious tones from
the thick lips.

Mark dropped the paper and looked up hastily.

"Is it you, Petef' he asked. “Come in. Don't
stand there grinning like an ape."

Pete slipped in and carefully shut the door behind
him. He stood with his back against it. the ueer-
est contortions twisting his odd features, whi e be
kept jerking out his thumb in mysterious paintings
toward the adjoining office, and then drawing it in
again. as if afraid of being caught in some unpar-
donable crime.

"What in the devil‘s name ails the boy ?" queried
Mark. impatiently. “Have you been eating some-
thing that don‘t agree with you?"

” l have see’d him i" announced Pete, m sterlous-
ly. “Idone follered him. In dar Morse reszon."

He again pointbd to Esmond's o co.

- “Who?” asked Mark, his voice sinking to a low

tone. "Mr. Emerson?"
“ De her identercal gemmau you tole Pete to look
out for. oily! but I fotched um. "l‘ain‘t de fust

time I‘se see‘d him. At ole Marse Wildflower’s, you
know. ’Fore de time he tole you to git. Neber for-
git dagtime. Neberi" And Pete clapped his sides
and gave vent to a repressed laugh, which twiste
his face into the most ridiculous contorlions.

“See here. you blasted young imp!" cried Mark,
angrily as he strode across the room and seized the
boy by the collar. “ I! you speak of that again—"

 

“Oh, Marse Prestonl" exclaimed the boy, in sud-
den tqrrer. “I didn't say nuffln‘ ‘bout do kickin’;
’cos 'ou tole me I inus‘n’t. 0h, Marse Preston 1"

“ ang yout If it wasn’t for makinga noise, I'd

shake tl.e wool ofi’ your brain-pani” cried Mark. in .

supgrossed tones of rrstmined anger.

‘ larse Emerson in darl" rejoined Pete, glad of
such an opportunity to escape punishment. “ Flo in
(lar, suah. Gollyl won’t do to shake Pete, 'cos Pets
mought yell.“

“ Yes. you im of darkness; I know your tricks,"
re lied Mark, re easing the boy. /

e was not anxious for an uproar in the room,
just at that particular time. ‘

A few words ensued, in a low, cautious tone, and
then Pete withdrew to the street, glad to escape
from his choleric master, and read to‘ act the sp
on Justice Esmond’s office with a s ‘ewdness with
which the boy was well gifted.

Mark Preston immediately had his ear to the door

of.communication between the two rooms, striving ‘

to gather any words which might come to him from ‘

the conversation roceeding be ond.
Nor were 1118 c orts quite wit out success.

Meanwhile Lucille Maynard was seeking to c
out her part of the programme. She had got young
Arlington, her friend's brother. to make inquiry as
to late arrivals at various hotels. in this manner

she learned of the presence of Mark Preston in '

Lancaster.

“ He must have some decided object in view," she
remarked, “to make his apgearance here so soon
after the severe cowhidlng w ich Will Wildfire gave
him. I will need to be shrewdly on the alert to
outwit him in his schemes. But it is strange that
there is no attention to my letter of warning!”

A through train_ from New York was shortly due,
and she and her friend walked to the station to meet
it, The few passen ers who got off at Lancaster
passed under their nspection, but there was no sign
of Ralph Emerson among them. ,

It was with a feeling of disappointment that she
turned away.

" Ma he not come by some of the local trains
from hiladelphiaf" sug ested her friend. " He
may possnbiy have steppe overa train in that cit ."

"That may be,” rephed Lucille, thought! y.
“ Let us see when the next train is due."

They found that they had two hours to spare. As
the time approached for the coming of the train,
Lucille and Miss Arlington again sought the station.

They had not been there long when a train from
En rrishurg steamed in

"Look at that funny little black boyl" said Miss} '

Arlington, laughing. and pointing toward the cars.

I

Lucille looked up and recognized the lad at a!
9’

glance. It was Pe Mark Preston’s servant. The
boy saw her at the some instant. He had seemed
on the point of entering the car. But he now back

ed off, trying to look unconcerned. and loudly whist- ’

ling a favorite street melody. He disappeared in the
gentlemen's apartment of the depot.

Lucille had noticed under h 5 arm a package,
about six inches square, which he clung to as tightly
as if it contained some valuable treasure.

“I don‘t like that," she said, musinglty,
walked with Miss Arlington down the plat o
explained who this boy was.

The train steamed away again. In ten minutes
after its place was taken by the westward-bound
train. Lucille had seen noth ng more of Pete. He
had vanished. Nor did she see the person for whom
he was waiting. Ralph Emerson was not on the

train.

“It is very stran e.” remarked. Lucille. “He
should certainly have een here before now. And—"

She suddenly became silent, her face growing full
of deep surprise.

For there, before her, coming from the direction
of the town. stood
she had been seeking.

as she
rm. and

Ralph Emerson, the Very person «

 

  

 

20 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

 

Mutual expressions of surprise, and warm greet-
ings ensued.

" But I have been looking for you. When did you
arrive?“

“ At midnight last night."

“ Why, Miss Arlington’s brother was on the watch
for you. It is strange that he did not see you."

"And why are you on the watch for me?" asked
Mr. Emerson. in some surprise, but with a genial
smile. " I did not know that my coming was so
anxiously waited.“

“Yes! there are reasons!" explained Lucille hur-
riedly. “ Reasons which res act the papers you
brin concerning Harry Wild re's estate. Excuse
me or asking if you have them safe?"

"Not in my own hands,“ he replied. _“’I‘hey are
too precious documents for me to be carrying around
in my journeys on other business. 1 have left them
in charge of my friend, Justice Esmond, until I get
through with the rivate alfair which calls me to
Lancaster. You w' [remember that I wrote to you
to that effect."

“Yes! yes!" hurriedly. “ But—are they safe
there? I have reasons for doubtlng—"

“ Doubting what?"

“Not your friend—but a villain who will seek to
]possess himself of these documents. They may be
ost even now! Let us go at once to see l"

She was so excited and energetic that Mr. Emer-
son looked at her in greater surprise than ever.

“ Certainl ,“ he said. “if you wish it. But I think
you are frig toned without any just cause."

In ten minutes they were in the office of the mild-
faced justice. -

"You will excuse me, Mr. Esmond,” remarked
Mr. Emerson, with a smile. “But this young lady
has become frightened about the safety of the pack-
age I’gave you. Please convince her that it is se-
cure.

“ Certainly," replied the justice rising and 1m-
lockin a drawer in his desk. ‘ I hardly think that
the thieves who break in and steal have yet—"

He suddenly stopped speaking, his face displaying
a ludicrous astonishment.

The drawer was empt !
in trust had disappeare !

CHAPTER XII.
ms'rics nsuouo EXCITED.

lathe mild-faced count -justice had been stung
b abomet, he could not ave danced about his
o co more vigorously than he did on discovering
the loss of the package intrusted to his care.

Justica Esmond was" naturally excitable, and this
lunexpected loss had a remarkable effect upon his

nerves.

” Main Gott!" he cried. dropping into the Pennsyl-
vania Dutch dialect, as he was apt to do when ex-
cited. “ I lock it up in dat drawer! It is not dere
now. Dat‘s very queer. I hope you don‘t t‘ink me
a t'ief, Mr. Emerson?" ’

“ Certainly not." replied Emerson, thou hhis face
was full of anxiety and discomflture. “ ut where
can it have gone? Have you been out of your office
since receiving it?"

“ For one hour on! . From ten to eleven. But I
leave it locked up tig t behind me.”

Lucille. who had listened with a pale face to this
short coll u ,now spoke:

“You lef t edoor locked," she said. “But here
is another door—where does it lead ?"

"Dat? 0h! dat's locked on de other side. Dat's
the office of Min—what’s his name? Mr. Preston."

"Who?" cried Lucille. with sudden emphasis.

“Mr. Preston—Mark Preston, from Philadelphia.”

“ Well, I declare!" exclaimed Miss Arlington.
breathlessly. “Is not that the man of whom you
told me, Lucille? The man who has an interest in
making way with these gatgers?" .

“ How long has he ha is once?" asked Lucille.

“ Since yesterday."

“.Then it isclear enough now how your drawer

The package given him

 

 

 

4

came to be emptied. He is the thief. He go‘ pos-
session of your letter, Mr. Emerson, and knew that
you intended to leave the papers in this gentleman's
charge. Can you not see through the cunning plan
he has laid to possess himself or them?"

“I can!" cried Justice Esmond, in sudden wrath.
“And l‘ll have the law of him, too! To come into
mine office, and open mine drawers! and Ste 1 mine
papers! Dunder and blitzen! but it is ver aggra-
voting!”

He rushed fiercely to the door of communication,
but it was locked. and no answer came to his violent
knocks and cries for “ Mr. Preston."

Aftera minute thus uselessly employed, he rushed
outside, and tried the street door with equal ill-
success.

“Dat’s certainly very queer," he said, as he ex-
citedly returned. "He rob me. and den lock the
door, and walk. I never had no such thing happen
to me before. Never."

“ I suppose not," rejoined Emerson. dryly. " And
I wish to Heaven you had not had the chance now.
Depend upon it, he is the thief.“

‘ Of course he is." exclaimed Lucille, impatiently.
“ And he must not be permitted to leave Lancaster.
Break that door down, 511‘, if you cannot open it by
other means.“

“ Wait one minute only. Dere‘s a locksmith just
down the street."

The excited countrly justice left the room in a mast
vigorous hurry, an returned very soon with the
mechanic in uestion. whom he set to work to try
and open the ocked door.

Thgy all gathered around, impatiently watching
his e orts.

“Well. if that isn't what I call decidedly cool!"
came a sarcastic voice behind them, as the street
door 0 ened and closed. “ Do you think there is
anyb dead in there? Or are you trying a bit of
private urglary?“

They turned suddenly at this familiar voice.
There. before them, stood the slender, foppishly-
dressed figure of Mark Preston, showing his white
teeth in a. peculiar smile. With him was another
gentleman. whom Justice Esmond recognized as a
well known citizen of Lancaster.

“ How d‘ye do, cousin Lucille? I didn't expect to
see you here." said the villain, with smiling self-
possession. “ And Ralph Emerson, I declare! Well,

his is certainly a meetm of old friends!"

“I’ve god him!“ crie the little ustice, rushing
excitedly forward, and seizing Mar by the collar.
"The thief! the burglar! the highway robber! that
comes into mine office and robs mine drawers!"

“ Let go!" exclaimed Mark, fiercely, shaking him-
self loose. “ What in the blue blazes do you mean,
to lay hands on me in that way? 1 have knocked
man a better man down for a less insult."

“ ou rob my drawer!" ejaculated the justice,
running across his office and pointing to the empty
drawer. “You steal mine pa ers! You—villain!"

“ Well. this is comfortable,’ Mark coolly rejoined.
addressing his companion. "Is this gentleman a
little touched here?“ pointing significantly to his

head.

“I think not.“ was the regily.

“ What is wrong. Mr. merson ?" asked Mark
guietly taking a chair. “I don’t expect to find out

rom Justice Esmond, who has certainly been stung

by a bee. But perhaps you can inform me."

Ralph Emerson’s tall form seemed to grow taller,
as he looked down u on the nonchalant villain.

“It means," he can, with severe emphasis.
“ that I intrust ed certain 1m ortant pa ers to this
gentleman’s care; that Mark reston. w 0 alone had
an interest in their disappearance, knew they were
to be left in his care' that he took an office’commu-
nicating with his on the precedin dav. Audit means,
finally, that the pa rs are miss ng.“

" And that Mark ston has stolen the last will of
Han- Wildfire, which disiuherited him," supplied
Luci e, in an indignant tone.

  

  

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Will Wildfire. the Thoroughbred.

 

21

 

“ Sol Now we are coming to the point of the
joke!" Mark coolly replied, removing his hat and
placing it upon his knees. while he daintin wiped his
scarred forehead with a scented handkerchief.

“ Yesl" cried the justice, shaking his long finger
at him. “And I’ll have a policeman in, and lock you
up and search you and—"

“ There, there. there," said Mark, soothingly.
“ Do kee cool, my dear sir.—I don t relish this
charge, l r, Emerson. When did on leave these
papers, of which I never heard he ore, with Justice
Esmond?”

“ At eight o‘clock this morning."

“ Then you certainly give me credit for great skill.
So I entered his office, unlocked his drawer with
false ke s under his very nose. and stole his papers
unseen efore his eyes?‘

“ I said not so," exclaimed the excited justice. “ 1
was out of mine oflice. Den you come in and stole
my apers.“

1;? h, you were out of your office? When, may I
as "

“ From ten o’clock till eleven."

“ And that is when I broke into your drawer and
stole your papers?" '

“Yes. Just den. ForI was in the office all the
other time."
“I am very glad to hear that." rejoined Mark,

with his tigerish smile. “ It gives me an opening
for a. neat little charge against you, of making way

ourself wrh this gentleman‘s papers and then try-
ing to lay the theft on me—Wil you rlease inform
these somewhat excited persons, Mr. Cummings, at
what hour this morning I came to your place of
business?"

“ At nine o'clock precisely."

“And have you lost sight of me since?"

“Your charge against this gentleman will not
hold water," replied Mr. Cumminiis, turning with
dignity to the excited accusers. “ r. Preston and
Ihave been together since nine o'clock this mom-
ing. If you want further evidence of this, I can
refer you to Joseph Homer, Esqi, with whom we
were closeted from ten till twev Therefore. I
fancy that Mr. Preston will have no trouble in prov-
ing an alibi."

The three accusers looked at each other, quite
taken aback by this unlooked-for statement.

“Do on know this gentlemen, Mr. Esmondi"
asked. .Emerson.

“ Why—yes," acknowledged the confused justice.
“ Mr. Cummings is a reputable citizen. His word is
evidend‘e.—But who opened mine drawer? Who stole
mine papers? Will not somebody tell'me dat?"

“ 1 would be happy to tell you, if I knew," rejoined
Mark, with a sarcastic lan h. "Perhaps you would
still like to search me. t may have stuck to me;
like some persmbulating chestnut burr. Or to ex-
amine my omce. it may have got in there without
my knowledge. I will save your locksmith the trou~
hie of opening the door.”

in a moment he had unlocked and thrown open the

cor.

"Here it is. at your service. Come in, and make

your Search.” ‘
1lthstice Edmond followed him, hesitatingly into the
0 cc.

Lucille was about to follow. when she was stayed
by a touch on the arm from Miss Arlington.

“Did you not tell me. that the black boy. whom
we saw at the depot, was this man‘s servant?" she
whispered.

A flash of light came into Lucille‘s pale face. The
unsthll hap opened up a new field of thought which
had e~caped her during the excitement of the last
half-hour »

“ Well thought of, indeed!" she exclaimed. “ That
opens unwt’he whole matter. Mr. Emerson.”

“ What was the size and shape of your package of
"pea?" ' ' ' .

 

“It was some six inches square, by perhaps two
inches in thickness."

“ Then the whole mystery is revealed. It is not in
Lancaster now, but is on its way to Philadelphia."

She continued to talk eagerly with him in a whis-
pg, unnoticed by Mark Preston, who was in his own
0 cc.

“1 believe on are right,“ said Mr. Emerson.

“Then I s all telegraph immediately to Mr. Wild-
fire. to be on the look-out for him.”
1_ Sglie hastily departed, accompanied by Miss Ar-
m on.

 

CHAPTER XlIl.
0N PETE’S TRAIL.

WILL Wrnnrms and his friend, Ben Huntly, were
unsuccessful in their quest for the sable youth, who
had become so important an individual.

Train after train came in—hut no Pete. In fact.
their ideas of guard duty were hardly suited to the
character they had to deal with. Pete had received
special orders to kee his eyes open. This meant a
great deal to the sirewd little rogue. In conse-
quence, while Will and his friend were quietly in-
specting the passengers who came through the gate
from the tram. Pete was making his way backwa
through the railroad inclosure. In afew minutes
he reached the fence of this inclosure, at a distant
spot. Over this’he went, with the agility of a
monkey, carefully holding on to his precious pack-

age.

“I am afraid we are on a blind trail," said Will, as
the passengers from the Lancaster Express all
passed through the (gate, with no sign of their guest.

“Hi! hil Bet a ollar nobody don’t foiler Pete l"
grinned the boy at the same moment, as he reached
the road on the other side of the fence.

He had outwitted Lucille Maynard, at Lancaster
by running along the platform under cover of the

depot building, passing around the engine. and slip-’

ping into the cars on the other side of the train.

He had now outwitted Will Wildfire in a similar
manner. He chuckled triumphantly to himself as
he hurried along Thirtieth street toward the 8 ring-
Garden street bridge, not caring to risk the anger
gfiéiiscovery on the Market and Chestnut street

1- ges.

“Marse Preston says Pete must kee his eyes
skinned. ’Spec‘ thar's somebody iookin' urdis little
nig. Ain't a-gwine to luff 'em cotch me, you bet.
Not if I hab to swim de riher."

“ What‘s in the books next i" asked Ben Huntly of
Will Wildfire at the same moment.

“ There are other trains due Within the next few
hours.” replied Will. “But the youngsrascal may
have been in before we got here. I hardly think we
can aflord to lose time, We had better leave our
guard duty in the hands of this officer, and carry out
our further lens." 2

“Will be able to recognize the boy?" asked
Huntlfi.

“ W y, I never saw him, Ben. I onl know what
the telegram says. He can look on for a little
darky as well as you or 1."

“That’s true," rejoined Ben, after an instant‘s
thought. “Let us post him then." x

An hour afterward the two friends made their ap-
pearance in a certain ale-house, in which, as the
reader will remember, Will had had a game of listi-
cuti's some weeks before.

The bartender looked up with a smile of intelli-
gence as he saw them enter.

“ Do you remember me?" asked Will. restin his

elbow negligently on the bar and looking the luff ’

Englishman in the face.

“ Don’t I?" returned theiatterheartily. “ Ihaven‘t
forgotten the neat We in Wish you floored Luke
Lister. It does one‘s eart nod to see a hruiser
laid out in that fashion. And y a chap who hasn‘t
grown aheard yet! I hardly see where you raked
up your muscle."

“I keep it here," said Will, smilinzly tapping his

 

  

I

  

 

 

A

22 . Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

 

arm. “ Yes, two losses of ale," he continued. as
the bartender s gnificantly handled a tumbler.
“You'll take ale, Ben?"

" Guess I might venture."

“ g1} right. Is Luke Lister often around this
wa. ' ‘

“ Occasionally. But I have not seen him since
you floored him."

,“Do you know where he lives?" asked Will, as he
threw a quarter on the bar.

“Not exactly. I could come something near to
the place."

“This is prime ale," remarked Will. as he took a.
sip of the nut-brown, white-capped beverage. “As
for our mutual friend. Luke——

“ He is no friend of mine," was the interruption.

“AndI doubt if he is in love with me.” laughed
Will. “ I have had some little affairs with him since.
Tell me where he lives. as near as you can.”

“ I know it is on Somerset street, but 1 can‘t give
you the number. It is between Fourth and Fifth-—
nearest to Fourth. You can easily find it."

“ Thank you. I expect to have a little more busi
ness with friend Luke, and may need to call upon
him. But don’t tell him to expect a visit—in case
you see him. I prefer to make it a surpriso.”

"Isee," said the bartender, grinning. “There‘s
something in the wind?”

“I can just smell the odor of rascality. from that
quarter,” answered Will, as he finished his glass.

They were not quite wrong in their idea. Luke
Lister had appeared to he Mark Preston's confeder-
ate in rascally schemes of late, and it was natural to
conclude that they might be leagued together in
this business.

At all events, Somerset street would he a. desirable

. place to vis1t.

re going there, however, Will returned to his
hot i. hoping to receive some further communica-
tion from Lancaster.

Nor was he disappointed. There wasa telegram
awaiting him. :

It was longer than the preceding message, and
read as follows:

“The boy is not to be found here. He has proba-
bly succeeded in taking some train. Mark Preston
defies us. but we have had him arrested at a ven-
ture, on the charge of employing this boy to steal
the papers. We will keep him under arrest as ions
as possible. and see that he does not correspond
wit his confederates. If the boy escapes you. then

' make all efl'orts totrace the papers. They will

I re ember it welleno

hardly be destroyed without orders from Preston.
. “ RALPH EMERSON."

' "Ali!" said Huntly. “your pretty cousin has ot
a gentlfiinan to do her telegraphingl Who is t is
person

“It is the gentleman who brought the will from
Europe; and who certainly should feel responsible
for its loss. Well, the match seems to be open,
Huntly. Will you enter for it i"

"The handles race between Will Wildfire and
Mark Preston, e i“ queried Huntly. with a laugh.
“I'm your backer, for a thousand. Let us strike at
once for Somerset street."

it was approaching night when they reached the
locality in uestion.

It was a 3 rest of medium width. but not of any
busy trsmc. On the contrary it seemed rather sleepy
and grass-grown. then active and wide-awake. It
was, in fact. an unpretentions, down-town avenue.
in‘ one of those regions where the chief product
seems to be dirtyvmced children, who swarm around
doorsteps and over pavements as thickly as bees
about the front door of their hives.

“Ughl itsmells bad down here," said Will, with a
soil! of disgust. “I wonder if the street-cleaners
haw not forgotten that there is such a street?“

“Don‘t you fancy that," replied Huntly. “They
h—on salary-day. They are
too busy to remember t at other times. ’ ' ,

 

I‘Il'ushl" hissed Will, grasping his arm, with a.

uick, tight clutch. “ Do you see yonder? Look at
t e sable mite of humanity who has just left the
door of that house near Fourth street. I wonder if
he is our game?"

“You can bet high that he’s worth running down
and investigating.” cried Huntly. with energy. “ It

is our duty as gentlemen and Christians to overhaul '

and go through that African diamond."

“Then you follow him, Ben. Cautious] . mind. I
will hurry around the square. and hen him off in
Fourth street. If the spry little eel sus TCtS we
are after him he will be sure to slip throug our flu-

ers.

L.“All right,” said Huntly. “ But you will have to
s ir."

And Will did stir. Any one who saw him would
have fancied that his house was on fire, and the
news just come to him. His ace. however, became
suddenly sober when he reac ed Fourth street, at a.
point several 5 uarcs northward.

A glance toic him that all was yet in good shape.
The half-grown citizen of African descent, who was
the object of their thoughts. appeared just before
him, progressing in a peculiar, erratic fashion, as if
he was constitutionally opposed to walking in a
straight line.

Not far behind him was Hunlly, walking with the
staid. regular step of a man of business, and ap ar-
lelntly quite unconscious of the sable dwarf be ore

1m.

And yet the boy seemed to be distrustful of him.
He kept making short halts, to glance in a shop-
window, or to scratch his head against a lamp-post;
and all these occasions served as opportunities to
cast a quick look back at his apparen ly unconscious
pursucr. -

“Dat cat won't 'ump worf a cent." muttered the
boy. “ I’ve seen i. at gemman afore. suah. ’Tain't
his supper he’s arter. ’Tain‘t codflsh cake an’ 'lass-
es—no. siree. It‘s Pete he wants. But he ain‘t
cotched Pete yit.”

The boy clapped his hands 01 his knees, and gave
a shrill, eiflsh laugh, as if in high amusement at the
thought of any one catching him.

But his amusement came to a sudden termination.
For a strong band grasped him by the shoulder. and
:3. pair of bright, young eyes looked sternly down

nto is. .

“But I’ve cotched Pete," came from Will Wild-
flre's lips. “ Hurry up there, Ben. Let us yank the
young rascal of! to the station-house" ~

Pete's face became half-white with sudden dread.
The thought of the station-house was to him'like
that of some giant‘s castle. whose hungry roprietor
amused himself by crunching prisoners a] vc.

He 5 uirmed like an. ea] in the hands of a flsh°r~
man. ut Will‘s fingers held him with a vise-like
v1 or.
fiOhi lawsee. marsel" he ejaculated. “I ain’t
done nuffln’: jess nufl‘ln‘ at all: Luff me go, please!
l’s a poor offln. I is, widout fader or mudder, or no-
body. Ohl please. marsel”

“ You’re a confounded young rogue," answered

Huntly, inching the boy’s ear. “Where have you
bfen? hat house was that we saw you come out
o i"

“ Dat house? Oh! don‘t you know dat house?"
asked Pete. innocently. _ H
lib dere. She‘s so olo—ohl so mighty olol_ .

” And you are might young to lie so glibly,’ said
Huntly. with another 5 arp pinch.

“0h!” cried Pete, with another squirm. “ ‘Fore
do Lo’d. marse, dere ain’t no lie in it. It's jess so.“

“Your great-grandmother, then, is a bi man.
with side-whiskers, and a nose like a door» nob?“
asked Will. holding Pete‘s eyes With his stron gaze.

“ Yes." faltered the b0 . after a moment's esitn-
. “ Yes—sartain— on y so mighty ole. You never
seo'd—" v u .

“ Such a rascally little liar." supplied Will. “Now
come, boy; if you want to escape the Station-housq

, ,

“ Mv great-gran‘-mudder ‘

4»

win Wildfire. the Thoroughbred. as

 

you will have to tell the truth. What brought you
down here? What did you leave With Luke Lister?"
“ Wid Luke Lister?" faltered Pete. turning whiter
yet. in astonishment.
“ He’s concoctlnz another lie.“ said Huntly.
“There is no use to fool here. Let us of! with him

at once. .

“Ohl don’t, marsel Now don’t!" pleaded Pete.
" I ain't done numn’. I only took a—a pound of mut-
ton from de butcher down to dat house. An' dat’s
jess so."

Will laughed, with Involuntary amusement.

“I‘ll be hanged if the boy ought not to be ension-
ed. as the premium liar." he remarked. " ow see
here. Pete I know something about that ound of
mutton. éuppose I tell you what sort 0 sheep it
came from.—You went with your master, Mark
Preston, to Lancaster. Between the pair of you
that pound of mutton was stolen from a butcher‘s
stall u there. Then you brought it down to the
city. 3 id the back way out of the cars with it. and
brought it down here for Luke Lister‘s su per."

The boy‘s face was a icture of astonis iincnt. as
he listened to this grap iic account of his proceed-
ings, from astran er. It seemed to him as if this
man must be a sort of magician. His looks were
evidence enough that Will had hit the mark.

“ Dat's Jess so,” cried the boy, \viih his shrill
lau h—after a moment’s hesitation. “ Mnrse Luke,
he ike Lancas‘r mutton. So I fotch him some."

“ Let us search him," sug ested bluntly. “ He may
still have the papers about im." .

The idea wasa good one and was not dimcult to
pfit intitg effect, for Pete’s attire was not very com-

ca e .

p A minute's examination showed that there was no
package of papers concealed about him.

“Shall we take him to the station ?"

“ Not if he acknowledges the truth." replicd Will.
“ Come. now. Pete; did you give Luke Listerapack-
age of papers?“

“ Dunno what was in ’t,“ rejoiced Pete. “ It were ,

all tied up. eber so tight. But he’s ot um. suah."
th“W,hat instructions did you vo him about
em ‘

" ‘Structlonsi What is ‘structionsi" asked the boy,
“Dunno what dat am, nowhow."

“ What did you tell him to do with them ?"

“ Ohl Is dat ’structions, den? Why, he's to keep
‘em. Dat's all. Dere weren‘t no oder ‘structlons,
’cept that."

“Now. see here, boy," said Will, sternly. “You
don‘t want to go to the station-house?"

“0h! latvseei You ain’t goin‘ to tote me dare
arier alll Arter Ilse tole eberything. jess the trufei‘"

“Will on promise not to tell about our catching
you. an questioni you, if we let you off!"

“Tell ’boutit?” e aculated Pets in a tonishment.
“’Spec Pete‘safool? Why Marse Preston ‘d mur-
deirnme if he knowed it.-Jess don‘t you tell, dat's

“ You can slide then." replied Will, lau hing.

He opened his hand. and Pete shot out ike a swal-
low. dartin up the street as if he felt that the
shadow of e station-house was still upon his path.

 

CHAPTER XIV.
mn's RECEPTION.

“Somme must be done. and that immediate-
ly.” said Will to himself as he reclined in his after-

inner chair. in his hotel apartment.

A nlght.and half aday had elapsed. since the events
of our last chapter. and he had not yet succeeded in
forming any plan for circumventing Luke Lister,
and obtainin possession of the lint ers.

“ To take t e police there won (1 the signal for
their destruction." he continued. “ Still, it will
never do to leave them in his hands till Mark Pres-
ton gets free. or even gets an opportunity to send
orders to his agent. I must act at once; and the

 

only plan I know of is to strike strai ht at the
mark. Luke Lister is my game; and t at plumb
from the shoulder."

" I‘d give something, though, to know more about
the lady of the black horse,” ho mused. as another
vein of thought came to him. “ I might learn some-
thing useful from her. She seems strangely con-
nected with Mark Preston.”

At this instant his liue of thought was broken by a.
tap at the door. On opening it he found there a.
hotel servant, who announced that a ladv was wait-
ing to see him in the parlor of the establishment.

Wondering who it could he Will made his way to
the apartment in question. fie found it to he em ty
with the exception of one figure. This was a v ed
lady; but a glance was sufficient to satisfy him that
the form before his eyes could belong to but one per-
son—-—thc one who had been in his thoughts a minute
or two previously

Will hastened forward. ~

“This is an unexpected pleasure.“ he exclaimed.
“lwished for you only this minute—and here you
are in answer to my Wish.“

“ Like an old-time fairy, Isupposc," she replied. in
the gay (one which she often assumed. “ And how
can I serve my knight, who has called me to him
with a wish 7“

" By lellinir me how best to overcome Mark Pres-
ton. You, who know him so Well, may perhaps
know more of his schemes than you have yet ad-
vised me of."

“I know him much too well," she sadly replied.
“Yet I fear that I cannot be] you in the scheme of
which you speak. or late e has kept his secrets ,
from me. He distrusts me, perhn is.”

“ Why do you speak thus?‘ Will mpulsively asked.
“ Has he a power over you? Why do you fear him.
as you appear to do?”

‘ I have every reason to fear him." sheanswered. ,
“ He has got a [rightful power over me. and I
not resist his commands. It is this that brings me
here to-day. l have been afraid tomake sconfldant
of my troubles. Yes i am sure, from your face. that
you will not betrav me; and you may be able to give
me some useful vice. There may be a way out of.
my difficulties."

“ I don’t (profess to know anything about law, if it
is that kin of trouble." said Will. his young face
full of sympathy. “But so far as! have an judg-
ment 1 will try to help you. You can ‘de en [you
me. Miss— 0r. excuse me for asking if am ght
in addressing you in this manner. You are not mar-
ried to Mark Preston 7"

" No. thank Heaven i" she. fervently exclaimed.
“ But I fear that I shall be forced to become his wife!
cIll; is, that which brings me here. I would rat-her

el

Her voice, intense with feeling, rung in Will‘s ear
like the voice of one in mortal pe .

“Tell me all.“ he earnestly cried. “ If he is r-
secutint you, trust me to find some means to rel eve -
you. it do throw off that blinding vail. I would
talk with ‘vlou face to face.

She rep 'ed by throwing back her veil, and reveal-
ing that lovely face of which Will had allied but a
stolen glimpse before. It was now fu of feeling
but a lurking smile played about the mouth, called
up by his impulsive request.

“Thanksl‘ he said. “ That face wonld draw the
sympathy.of the most cold-blooded of men. Ask
me t3 do anything for you, and -I am at your com-
man s.

A faint blush tinged the fair cheeks of the lad”.
but it was evident that she was not ' displeased.
Will’s admiration was too earnest to give offense.
des 'te his enthusiasm.

“ o compliments, I ray you." she rejoined
smile flashing over her eatures. “ And now shall I
tell you whatis my object in coming here?"

“Yes. I am eager to know."

Will‘s earnest younf eyes were bent with min led
curiosity and sdmirat on upon the fair face he on

 

 

24 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

 

hilfii, over which the shadow of sorrow had again
a en.

" My name is Clara Moreland." she began, resting
her hands upon each other, as she looked conflding-
1y into his face. "I need not tell you that I am yet
quite young."

“ No, you need not tell me that," smiled Will.

“I was still younger when I first met Mark Pres-
ton. I was an orphan, with no one to advise me.
He was soft-toned and specious. Is it any wonder
that I grew to fame myself in love with him, or
that I responded to is suit by promising to marry
him? Iam not the first girl of Seventeen who has
been fooled by a fair face and a gentle manner."

“But yOur eyes are open now,“ protested Will,
with more of ersonal feeling in his voice than he
imagined. “It Is not too late to withdraw.”

“Alas! I dare not i" was her sad response. “I am
too deeply in his power. And be Is pitlless. It
would be ruin to me to defy him "

“Perhaps not." rejoined Will. quietly. “You
may be deceived in this, too. What dreadful thing
have you done?" '

“I have committed forgery!" she cried. in accents
,of bitter pain. “ I have forged my uncle’s name!
He knows itl Mark Preston knows it! He holds the
for ed paper over me as a continualthreat.”

“ orgeryi By Jove i" whistled Will. “That isa
bad business. But he holds the paper, you say.
.What is’it? A check?"

“ Yes. He made it a check." She wrung her
hands in deep emotion. “It is he that has done it
all! But it is I that must suffer. I would not for
worlds have my uncle know of it 1”

“But the check has not been presented for pay-
‘ment?” V

-" No, noi He‘holds it still, as a threat over me. to
force me to this hateful marriage I”

“ Then the business may not be too late to mend."
 coolly replied. “But how came you to write

“It was doneas ajoke. I am very skillful with
the pen. I imitated my uncle‘s signature without
dreamin of this villain’s pur oses. He kept it and
the bian check upon whichi was written. without
my knowledge. And now that I hate and despise
him, he threatens me with exposure. if I dare to
withdraw from my promise to marry him."

The fair young face was full of agonized feeling as
she spoke. She wrung her hands unknowin gly.

. Will. his face full of warm sympathy, drew his
chair closer. .

“ Why not defy him?" he asked. “Why not tell
your uncle the whole circumstances?"

“I dare not." she replied. "You do not know
my uncle. Such a cold. bitter. prejudiced mind. I
fear he would never forgive me. or believe me. No,
I must sacrifice in self to Mark Preston, hateful as
he is rather than t at l" .

I “Mon shall not, then!" cried Will, impulsively
rising. “Ah! I have. it! Do you know where he
keeps this dangerous f0 ery ?"

"' Among his pa rs, in is piivate desk, I believe."

“ Then, all is in r in war. ark Preston is at pres»
ent under arrest at Lancaster. There is an oppor-

' tunity for you to seek for this paper. You have the
ii ht to force his desk open, if need be. I would

p you but I must at once seek to overthrow an-
other scheme of his."

I “ l half fear to undertake it," she exclaimed, her
face suffused with a. new light. “ But. but—"

“ There is a little black boy,” suggested Will,
" who seems to know his secrets. Have you any in-
fluence over him? Can you get him to helpX you?”

“Little Pete " she replied. her face lig ting up.
“Yes. He wil do anything for me."

“Then go at once. Lose no time for every min-
ute may be precious,“ exclaimed Will. ‘ Mark
Preston is approaching the end of his rope. If you
are quick and decisive you may be able to defy his

threats.
"Thanks! 4 thousand. thanks)" she cried. 1m.-

 

pulsively seizing his hand. “Obi you give me new ‘

life! If I succeed, how can I ever re ay you i"

“The time may arrive," said Wi l, with a slight
blush, “when I may ask for payment. Till then I.
will keep your ‘ forget me not.’ "

She hastily dropped her veil and released his hand,
as another lady entered the room, recognized ata
glance by her quick eyes.

The new-comer was a neatly-dressed young lady,
with a very prctt face, in whose features Will
recognized someth ng familiar. Her eyes ran rapid-
ly over the scene before her, and a loo of displeas-
ure settled upon her face. as if she was not quite
pleased to see Will Wildfire in the company of this
young lady.

“I would like to see on for a few minutes, when
you are at leisure, Mr. ildflre," she said.

“Certainly, certainly " replied Will, in surprise.
“In one moment, miss.‘

“ If I am to be run down with women, it is
lucky the?r are all so good—looking." he remarked
(tio himsel , as he accompanied the first lady to the

cor.

“Don't fail in your good intentions," he said.
“ It maybe now or never. And let me know the
result.”

“ I certainly shall," was her reply, as she left the
room.

Will turned toward the other lady, who stood in.

a somewhat defiant attitude, scorn and anger upon
her face.

“ I shall be happy naw, Miss— - But I have certain-
ly seen you before." declared Will, looking earnestly
into the charming face before him.

“ I think you have," she rejoined. a smile chasing
the displeasure from her face. “Ihardly thought
that you could forget me."

“ Ah! I have you now." was Will's eager and joy-
ous exclamation. “I know that roguish look of old.
It is Lucille Maynardl My fair cousin Lucille i"

“ it took you long enough to find it out," she sar‘
castically rejoined. ‘

“ I have been on the lookout for you ever since I
have been in Philadelphia," he replied. “ I did not
know where to find you. And you have changed so
from the freckled little girl of old—and have become
so marvelously pretty that I couldn‘t be expected to
reco ize you at sight. But it is never too late to
men , cousin Lucille," he continued, drawing her
impulsively toward him and kissing her.

‘ I doubt if you are mending, Will_Wildiire," she
exclaimed, releasing herself from his arm with a
flushed face. “You have all the. old imnudence.“

“Only cousinly affection, Lucille. Ifacha can-
not kiss his cousin, who is he to kiss, I would ’ e to
know?"

‘f The strange, vailed ladies, with whom he has
private interviews, perhaps,” replied Lucille, look-
ing keenly at him.

“Ohol sits the wind in that quarter?" cried Will
with a laugh of amusement. “ Why, cousin, I
know no more about her t an of the man in the
moonl She called to see me entirely on her own
business.”

“ Was it that that made her fling you the bouquet
on the day of the boat race? or that made her haunt
you as the Queen of the Night at the masked ball?"

“ Why.” remarked Will. somewhat displeased,
“ have you been keeping a watch over me?"

“An involuntary one. No more than you need,
perhaps. Have vou forgotten the German girl you
danced with at the ball?"

“Ah! I see it all now. I must have been blind
not to recognize you. But never mind this woman,
Lucille She is no more to me than to you. She is
one of the victims of ark Preston. against whom
{Weave both in arms. received your message yes-

e ay.

“It is that brings me here to-day. Have you
acted upon it?"

“Partly. I failed to catch the boy. But I have
since learned where he left the papers.”

». .m. __;,, f .f .94

 

 

 

 

 

Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

 

“Then on must lose no time in capturing them,"
she inmu sively Exclaimcd " In s ite of all our of-
forts. Mark Preston has succocdcd in sending a letter
to Philadelphia. This may contain orders to destroy
the package. There is no time to lose.”

“,Do you know ‘whom the letter was addressed
to? ‘

“ Yes. To Luke Lister.”

“ Then the game is growing hot, in earnest.“ cried
Will, springing hastily to his feet. “ Llikc Lister is
the man who has the papers. I shall go for him at
once; and have them, or know the reason why."

“ Go armed then.” she quickly re oined. “ I know
of tinils man, and what occasion he as to owe you
I wx ."

“I don‘t fear him, nor a dozen such," said Will,
drawing up his athletic form.

“ But go armed,” she earnestly repeated. “You
do not know what contingency may arise. And go
at once. Every minute now is precious."

“ You are right, Lucille " he rejoined, accompany-
ing, her to the door. ‘A fortune is worth a hard
fig tzpand I will not let it go by the board, if onlyfor
Your 1sak‘e. May I claim a cousin’s privilege now,

ucr. e?‘

“No.” she replied, with a sarcastic smile. “You
stole the privilege once, and now ask me to give it
to you. I cannot reward theft in that way.”

' But if I circumvent Luke Lister?"

“Ah! there will be another song to sing then,"
she laughingly rejoined. "Do that, and I will for-
give you a multitude of sins."

“ I will. or know the reason why."

He hastened to his room as she descended the
stairs, and uickly dressed for the enterprise before
him, not fat ing to adopt her suggestion, by placing
a small pistol in his breast pocket. In a ver few
minutes afterward he emerged into the street. end-
ing his steps. first toward a club—room in which he
expected to find some of his friends. He might
have need of them.

CHAPTER XV.
WILL CALLS 0N LUKE ms'rna.
P‘t‘ Ignvn I not saved you from many a whipping,
e e ‘

“ I’s cotched enough anyhow," said the b0 ', with
a bittrr look upon his ace. “ I’s cotchrd 'em eavy,
dat’s sar'ain. Marse Preston, dere ain’t no let-up
in him, nary bit.” .

“ And you would have had more, exce t for me."

“Da’s so, Missie Clara," replied the oy. grate-
fully. “Dunno what’d come 0' Pete, ’cept for you.
Can’t help doin’ things ;‘ and Marse Preston. he can’t
help kickin‘ me fur doin‘ 'em. An da’s de way it

oes.

“ If I have ever helped you. Pete. you should help
me now in return," remarked Clara Moreland, look-
ing the impish little rogue in the eyes.

‘ ls't sumfln ’g’in’ Marse Preston?"

“Yes. He has treated me badly, too. I want you
to help me revenge upon him.”

,“ Ain't whippe you, too?" asked Pete, with a look
of astonishment. “Goodee gracious: if he’s done

“ Not just in that way," replied Clara. laughing at
Pete's comical surprise. “And yet he has injured
me serious] .”

“ Don’t in him much meself,” rejoined the boy.

“ Then you will help me i"

“ But s’pose him fine it out?" queried Pete with a

rimace. “ Won’t be lick Pete? Lawsee, Missie
tars, he done skin Pete cl‘ar out."

“Do not fear. my boy." she replied, with a look of
kindly assurance. “ You shall be protected from
him. If we succeed I will see that you are safe from
his revenge."

P ‘éIs himin Philumdelf yet, or in Lancas’r?” queried
e e.

" He is in Lancaster, and likely to remain there;
for he has been arrested for theft." , _

“ Don't I know?" cried Pete, clapping his hands

pr .

r

 

with a laugh of impish delight. “Dey‘ve done
cotched Morse Preston fur dvm papers? Hoopeei
but ain‘t dat funl An‘ it were Pete done it all! Oh,
Lawseel wouldn't I like to see um now. Jess say
what ‘tis Missie Clara. Now‘s de time. while do ole
boy’s in o ail. I’ll do mosc an t’ing so he don‘t
cotch me. arse Preston in jail WellV if dat ain‘t
do run for this nigl" and Pete danced all over the
floor in his delight. ,

It was no easy matter, in fact, to bring the boy
down to sober attention to business. He would lis-
ten for a minute or two with intense gravity, to his
fair confederate. and then, use thou ht of the funny
situation of affairs came upon him, 1e would s ring
11,; and dance like atop. uttering screams of lung ter.
T e idea of “ Marse Preston in jail ” seemed to him
the very acme of comical incidents.

It thus took her a considerable time to make him
understand her object. But the boy was shrewd
enough despite his wild outbreaks and his mischiev-
ous spirit. He saw through the scheme better than
she had supposed it possible to make him.

“ Dat‘s fun, Missie Clara," he said more soberly.
“ Anyt‘ing ’g’in’ Marse Preston’s fun. I‘m ess
gwine to help you. An' won‘t he make do fed ers
fly when be fine it out? You bet!” ‘

 

At an hour not long after this interview between
Clara and her young confederate. an interview of a

different character was taking place in another part _

of the city.

Luke Lister was seated in a room in the second
story of his house, on Somerset street. intently en.
gaged in reading a letter which he had just re-
ceived. ,

He perus‘d its contents a second time, an oath
breaking from his lips, as he did so.

“So he has got himself nabbed!" exclaimed the
villain. " J ust about what I looked for. Confound-
ed fools half the men are anyhow. I bet a horse
thfiy wouldn’t have grabbed me so easily.”

e looked over the letter a ain.

“I suppose it means that am to make ashes of
the papers,” he continued. “ A chap that's in limbo
has got to write in riddles, of course; but I judge
that’s what he’s driving at."

He remained in deep thought fer several minutes.

“Maybe he thinks I’m a fool. and need to he
coached at every ste .“ was the next observation.
“I’d be a gay old Jac if I didn’t know that those
papers were dangerous goods. It‘s luck I have m
furniture well assured. for I’m afraid here migh
be a fire on these premises that would be hard on
both parchment and mahogany. He is the sensible
man who lalys his plans for danger before it comes."

“You wil find him in that room,” came a voice
from without.

The door opened, and an ill-favored woman looked

into the room.

“ A gentleman here to see you," she said.

“ All right. Show him in."

But a change came upon Luke Lister’s face when
he caught Sight of the figure of his visitor. He
madeahasty sign to the woman, who returned it
withoa look of intelligence, as she ma‘de way for the
V E I'.

There was a stern. serious expression u n her
face as she walked slowly away, while W 1 Wild-
fire. for it was he. entered the room.

His host stood, knitting his fingers around the top
of a chair, as it half inclined to make an immediate
assault u on his hated foe.

But Wil walked in as imperturb'hly as though
they were the best of friends, and seated himself it
copthlisgegal-d of the fierce looks cast upon him.

' oo -
“I presume I can have a
able time."

" What in ,the blazes brings dyou here anyhow!
hang your, 1m udencel” roare
serve you n ht Id brain you with this chair.“

“ N ow don t, my dear sir." returned Will. "That’s

r,

ew minutes of your valu-

w.’ \

ay. Mr. Lister,” he politely remarked. ‘

out- Luke. “ To v

   
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
 
  
   
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
    
   
    
  
  
 
  
  
   
    
   
   
  
  
   
 
   
   
  
   
   
  
   
 
  
   
   
  
 
   
   
   
  
   
 
 
  
  
 

 

    
    
 

   
 

26 v ’ Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

 

a little bit of advice I wish to give you. Don't.
Chairs are nasty things to be flying about."

“ We‘ll see that!” cried Luke, in a tone of ex-
as oration.

u an instant he lifted the heavy wooden chair
aliriove his head, and rushed upon his quiet antago-
n st.

The weapon descended with a force which might
have been fatal only that Will Wiirlflre no longer
oscupied the same position. lt fell. instead, upon
the empty chair. both of them being broken.

"That is rather a bad exercise for furniture, Mr.
Lister." snid Will, cooll , from another seat which
he had taken. " I'd a. vile you to quit it, except
you are going to break up housekeeping. And I can
give you another reason or quitting it."

“ What?“ roared Luke, his face purple with rage.

“ Only that you are butting against the wron
fence. If you try that neat little trick on again
might take 1 hand in the game. I am afraid it
wouldn‘t bs for your health." .

“I don't fear you!" cried Luke, fiercely. “You
took me at an advantage before. I am as good a.

' man as you. any day. in a'fair match."

“All right, if you think so.” responded Will, ris-

ing and preparing to throw off his coat. " I am not

' much in the way of fighting with a man in his own

house. But still. if you want a friendly spur. I don’t

know. that I have any objection to accommodate
ou.

“ Friendly 3 at be hanged :” exclaimed Luke,
flinging himsel heavily into a chair. “ What brings
you here, anyhow, blast you ?“

“ Business. Luke Lister.” replied Will. a stern
look taking the place of his bantering expression.
“I came fora certain package of papers sent you
by Mark Preston. by the hands of his little black
servant. You received them about this hour yester-
day, and as I think twenty-four hours is long enough
for you to be saddled with such a charge, will re-
lieve you of it."

He saw. from the expression of Luke's face,_ that
he had hit the nail on the head. In fact, the Villain
made no effort at denial.

“ What right have you to them?" he asked.

” The right of ownership," replied Will. “You
know as well as I, that Mark Preston stole it."

“I know nothing of the sort. ’ rejoined Luke.
“ And I will only give them to the man from whom
I received them.”

“ You refuse me then i"

“ Yes. That‘s about the way to put it."

“ Very well. I wished to give .you a chance to de-
liver them quietly. As long as you will notI shall
have the house searched b the police."

“ The police be hange i” cried Luke. snapping
his fingers in disdain. ‘Do you suppose that I’m
such a green blade not to know how to cheat all the

olice that were ever manufactured? 1 don't care a

ngor your police."

e walked to the door and threw it open.

“Stop!” cried Will.

“Why shall I stop?"

“ Because I order you to."

“Then you are bass here?"

" Yes; so long as I hold a little persuader like this
in my hand."

Luke had step ed outside the door. But he turned
at these words, 0 find himself in point-blank range
of a revolver, which Will was quietly aiming at his

a .

“Drop thati" he hastily ejaculated, nervously
ducking- “ The confounded thing might go off.”

“You‘re right," echoed Will. “It might go oil’.
'1 would advise you to come back. out of ran e."

” What do you want?" asked the cows villain,
quicklv returning into the room.

“Only to keep you company, that’s all. If you
are Roin after hose papersI will go with you. I
hlnrdiy't ink it safe to trust you out of this room
a one. ,

“Blow me if 1 give you s psperi” exclaimed tho

 

villain. a look of peculiar exultstion upon his face,
whose meaning Will could not understand.

“Very well. You will keep me company then.
We can be having a sociable time together while
my friends outside are going through your estab-
lishmont.

Throwing up one of the front Windows, which
looked out u on the street, Will blew a shrill blast
from a whist e which he took from his ocket.

The street had seemed em ty, but t was not a
minute afterward when severe persons appeared in
it, a proachin the house.

“ ow, my ear sir. we will see who is to win the
game,“ remarked Will, turning quietly toward his

oe

But the latter wore a look of exuitation whose
meaning Will could not comprehend. And there
was something strange in the atmosphere of the
room. It was becoming heavy and dificult to
breathe. There was a smoky smell in the air, and a
sense of hightenod temperature, which seemed un-
accountable.

Will looked at the trium hant face of his an-
tagolnist. There was corta nly something in the
Win .
t“\\]‘hat does this mean?" asked the young man,
s ern y.

" There‘s somethin odd about it.” returned Luke.
with a sneerinz smi e. “I
that the house is on fire."

His alarming words were confirmed to Will‘s
senses by a double evidence. For. at this same
moment, he caught a lurid flash of light through
the open door, from the floor below. And apecu-
iiar,letraokling sound came upward from the same

ocai y.

Simultaneously with this discovery came a cry
from the street without.

“ Fire! Fire! The house is on fire!"

It was the voice of Will’s friends. whose emrrts to
enter the ediflce had been unexpectedly defeated.

An uproar instantly arose. he street filled with
pea 1e, as if by magic. Hundreds of voices added
to t e din.

" I am afraid these are going to be hot quarters."
remarked Luke, with insuflerable triumph. “Things
seem to be roastin hot down-stairs. Suppose we
make tracks out of t." ‘

“Was this done by that woman?" asked Will,
sternly, “I saw you signal to her."

" What does that matter now? We had best slope,
before it is too late.”

“ Holri. therei" cried Will, as Luke started toward
the door. “The papersi"

“I am afraid they are Cinders now."

“You lini“ exclaimed Will, again drawing his
Bistoi. " Dare to take a step from this room ere ou

ave handed over those papers, and it will be wit a
bullet in your head. ’

"'Hanz it!“ cried Luke in alarm. “Drop that
Esta]! There is only one way to escape. and tmsy

too late if we lose a minute more." .

“Sit down in that chairi” exclaimed Will np-
preaching. and holdiu the pistol to the head oi the
shrinking villain. “ at‘s right," he continued, as
Luke crouched down obedienily.

He seated himself in another chair, pistol in hand.

“ The papers?" he said.

“I tell you they are burnt up!"

“Tth we will burn up too: for neither you nor I
leave this room without those papers."

A dense smoke was rolling into the room, now
lurid with the red flash of flames.

CHAPTER XVI.
max PRESTON muss ms MCI.
“GOLLY Missie Clara, but we's de chapsi” cried
Pete in delight. “Know’d I could fotch um. Been
(lnr before. s'inhi Dar‘s do old desk. an' you‘s 11st
got to pile in.”
Clara telt little less exultation than her lively

 

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Will-wads”, the Thoroughbred.

 
 

 

01mg confederate, as she stond before Mark Pres-
on’s private desk, which he had just contrived to

open.
She felt not one moment's hesitation, nor one
ualm of conscience at this unlawful proceeding, for
s e had good reason to believe that this receptacle
contained the for ed check which had been held in
terror over her or years, and which she saw no
other means of getting into her possession.

“ All is fair in war,‘ she remarked to the boy. who
stood rinning in delight before his handiwork.
“Mark reston has robbed me in more ways than
one. He has papers relatin -to my proprrty in that
desk, which he got from me y treac iery.“

“ “her were de perlice, Missie Clara?"

“I was afraid of him, and dared not force him to
return my papers." .

“Den go fur um now while he’s in do stone jug,”
suggested Pete. “Mar Preston is jcss as slip ery
as an eel. Him mought pop in, ‘fore we git roo.
’Tain’t de time now for foolin’."

“ You are right,” said Clara, in a. resolute tone, as
she walked to the desk. “I will hesitate no longer.
He has robbed me, and I am justified in recovering
my own.”

‘ He’ll be heah. Missie Clara. Seems to me I smell
him in de air. Dar ain’t no stone jug kin hole Marse
Preston. Jess you dig in, da’s all."

The desk was an upright. old-fashioned affair-with
a multitude of drawers and pigeon-holes. home
iormer experience had apparently taught her all its
mysteries, and just where she would be most likely
to find the concealed apers.

“ This must be the grawer," she said. “ But it is
locked."

There was a disappointed look 11 on her face, as
she sought in vain to open the close receptacle.

“Lemme dar." crird Pete. with an air of im ort-
ance. “l’ll fotch um, suah. Mighty lucky ll arse
Preston forgot him ke s. Lemme dar."

Pete was as good as is word. In lessihan abrace
of minutes he had unlocked and thrown open the
drawer.

“ Had a notion dat key’d fotch um," he triumph—
antly exclaimed.

With ahand that trembled with eagerness Clara
drew out the drawer. She paid no attention to its
contents, however. but laid it aside, and fixed her
eyes on the cavity from which it had been drawn.

“ It is in here,” she excitedly remarked. " The
secret drawer must be here. Fortunately I still re~
member the location of the a ring." _

Putting her hand into the epth of the cavxty, she
g‘oped about with her fingers for a. minute or two.

hese efforts were followed by a sharp click, and by
a noise as if something had fallen. _

Pete, who had been standing at her elbow. With
his head stretched forward at a right angle with his
body. his eyes starting. and his tongue protruded,
sfirung back at this sound with such indiscreet haste
t at he rolled headlong on the floor.

“ Goll , Missie Cloral Wa’s dat?" he cried. in
tones o alarm. “ Sumfin, gone ofi. in darl Pete
t’ou‘t him were a goner. suah. Jess like a pis‘l, fur
all do world."

“ Did it hit you, Pete?" she asked, laughing at the
overturned boy.

“ Dunno." replied Pete, with an air of great gravi-
ty, as he scrambled to his feet, “Didn’t fotch no
blood. But hadn’t we best be gittin‘r Don‘t like it
heal). nohow." and he glanced around him with an
air of apprehension. _ I

“Yes ’ she cried, With glad enthusiasm, hastily
examining certain papers which she had drawn
from the cavity. “Yesi I have my apersl They

were in the secret drawer. Now let Iark Preston
do his worst; 1 can safely defy himl '

“ Hal What does this mean 9" cried a sharp voice
from the door. “ My room enteredl My desk broken
Open and robbedl So. Miss Clara. this is the way
you emploggourseli' in m absencei"

Tho con

crates turn in alarm to the door. to

 

‘ a

 

  

behold standing there the figure of Mark Preston,
his face flushed with an er, while his lip curled with
an expression of sarcast c triumph.

“ It is well that I came back in good time,”hecon-
tinned. “ 1 have no obiection to lady visitors, but I
hardly like them to ma e themselves so very much
at home—So I have caught you in the act?”

He advanced into the room, a look of malignlty
upon his face. '

‘ I but recovered my own," replied Clara, with an
effort at defiance, though her face was pale. and her
lips trembling. “I have but regained whatyou rob-
bed me of. l have the forged signature and t 1e paper
relating to my property, and I shall never give them
up to you again."

“ You will not. eh? We shall see that l" and the
unscrupulous villain advanced upon her, while she
retreated until the wall prevented any further move-
men .

“ Do not come near me! Do not dare lay your pel-
luting hands upon me 1" she exclaimed, with a di :15?
whose effect was lost in her evident fear. “ 1
never yield those papersl noverl neverl"

“ That depends u on who is the strongest, my
dear young lady,” e sneerintgly re lied. graspln
her left arm by the wrist. an seek ng to wrenc
from her the check which she held in this hand.

At this moment Pete, who stood just behind, shak-
ing his fists at his master. called out: ‘

‘Frow me do pa ers, Miss Claral Frow 'em to
Pete! He can‘t cote this nig. Jess frow Pete de
pa ers-l"

’ he folded document relating to her property was
in her right hand. In an instant she took the hint,
din ing it over the head‘of her enemy, into thereach
o i )6 0y.

Pete caught it with the skill of a baseball player,
and at once darted for the door, crying out:

“ Golly if we ain’t shat ole Marsa Preston’s eye dis
time, suah 1"

Mark Preston, with a fierce oath. released the w -
man, and darted quickly after the mocking .
But he might as well have chased the wind. P a
was out of the room and ra idly descondin the
stairs, before his master ha fairly reache the

door.

The latter suddenly gave up the chase. and turned
back. The check_was still in Clara’s hands. That
he must have, or the game he had played so long
was lost.

_ She had advanced to the center of the room, look-

ing eagerly around for an opportunity to escape.

But there was but the one door, and the shrewd vil-

lain had taken care not to leave open this avenue of
again,” he said.

flight.

“I can attend to that im “Just
now I must have that chec ."

" You shall notl You shall not!" she exclaimed,
with wavering resolution, as she again retreatedbe ,
fore him.

“Come. girl,” he roughly cried. “ There is no use.
{laying tie fool. You are in my power, and you

now it. You will save further trouble by handing ~
that over uletly.” .

Clara‘s ace was deathly white, as she looked 1'
around on all sides. like a deer at bay, for some pas. r
sible chanco of flight. '

A hoarse laugh came from his lips.

“There is only one. master in this hou e," he sneer
ingly said. “My word is law here. and me that

a. er
p 'PHcre it is. then i" she cried, in a. tone of despera-
tion. “ Make the most of it 1" v

As she spoke she quick] conveyed the check to
her mouth, tore oi! the anrerous signature with
her teeth. and chewed it re idly into a pulp, while she
flung the useless remain or of the paper into his
sneering face.

” Take it, Mark Prestonl” she exclaimed. “And
take with it my release from your power over mel ‘ I
am no longer your slave.“ ’ ,

“By tho gods, though, I will have revenge for thlsi"

 
 

I.

     

   

 

28

'Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

 

he yelled, his face purple with rage, as he again
grasped her arm in a vise-like gripe.

Clara feared him at that moment; feared him
more than she had ever dreaded him before, for the! e
was the glare of the tiger in the eyes which he bunt
upon her. A sudden thought came to her, a hope
for safety. '

"All your schemes iave failI-d, Mark Preston," shi-
exclaimed. “ Will iidflrc knows of your theft of
his uncle‘s will. He is at this very moment Seeking
your agent. to force from him the stolen will."

The expression upon the viliain‘s face suddenly
changed. Was he to lose the fortune he had worked
for so? unscrupulously to gratify an impulse of re-

cuge

He flung her arm fiercely from him.

“I will attend to you again!" he hoarsely cried.
" After I have settled for Will Wildfire."

It was with no li ht feeling of relief that Clara
saw him rush from t 9 room.

‘ “Will Wildfire is able to take care of himself,“ she
said. “And as for me, I hope to never put myself in
your ower ain."

Wit a 100 of exultation she left the room, in
which she had passed through such an intense ex—
penence.

 

While this scene was being enacted the events re-
corded in our last chapter had taken place. But it
was some time after the hour in which Clara had cs-
caped from her enemy that the event occurred wi;h
which we closed that chapter.

We ,must now return to Luke Lister and Will
Wildfire, the former of w om we left seated cower-
ing in a chair. While h‘ youthful conqueror, with
arern and resolute face, occupied a chair opposite
film with the pistol directed in deadly aim at his

e .
Yet it was no comfortable situation for aquiet
. ois-a-ois. The room was filling with smoke. while
. the red glare of flames. which looked at them from
{the open stairway,tlireatened soon to cut off all
hopes of escape. '

‘ Are you mad?" cried Luke in despair. “ We shall
be burnt alivel"

“ All right. my friend. I can stand it if you can,"
was Will’s cool answer. “But if you dare to stir
from that chair, except to get those a ers, I will

. put a bullet through you as sure as I Sit ere. And
I am not given to boasting or lying.”

Will loosed, too, as if he meant it.

The villala’s eyesrolled in fright around the peril-
ous scene.

“ I t_ell you the papers are gone!" he cried with a
des airing effort. " it is too late to save them!"

“ oulie!" Will sternly answered. “The papers
are in this room. They are on that side of the room.
You” cannot keep your scared eyes off the spot
where you have hidden them. You can do as you
please about getting them—but I have a serious no-
tion that we will smother or roast together unless

you do."

Will had essed truly as to the locality of the
papers. Thswas evident from the villain‘s look.
But he braved it out for a moment ion :or, sitting
snilenly in his chair, while the fire crackled and
roared below, and the smoke which had half-smoth-
ered them gave place to the fierce glare of the in-
creasing flames.

In the street the uproar grew more intense. The
iciifibflatter of an engine coming to the tire was
an 6.

With a bitter curse the bathed villain arose and
walked toward the spot which Will had indicated.

It was a closet, within which appeared to be some
secret hiding-place, for Will heard the click of a
spring as Luke was for a moment hidden within the
c ose .

“There are your infernal papers," he cried, fling-
ing toward Will a close package. “And now are
you satisfied? Isn’t it time to make tracks?"

" No. Not till I have seen whether you are playing

 

some trick upon me or not," Will cnolly replied.
“Just take your seat while I examine this} ac rage."

“And not until I have had a finger in the pie,"
cried another voice in fierce accents.

They turned quickly, and behold Mark Preston,
who at that instant rushed into the room, having
entered the house from some rear entrance.

“ You shall never leave this house alive with those
papersi“ he sternly exclaimed.

 

CHAPTER XVII.
- ou'r or ms assume nouss.

THE uproar in the s'reet was now at its hight.
Hundreds of people appeared to_he before the house;
engines were momentarily dashing upon the scene;
the first one arrived was already pouring a stream
of water upon the flames.

“ Herei This way i“ yelled a loud voice, as a hook
and lidder truck thundered up. “This way with a
ladder! Make hostel There are people still within
that house!"

Indeed. haste seemed necessary. for the flames
were making rapid Erogress. The smoke which had
rolled upward in t ick clouds was dissipated, but
the clear light of an intense blaze shone into the
room. having eaten its way through the floor in one
corner. .

And the passage by which Mark Preston had en-
terevl was already cut off by a gush of flame, break-
ing through the floor, and shooting upward like
writhing, fiery serpents. The heat was growing un-
bearable.

“Who will hinder my leaving here, Mark Pres-
;on?" Will sternly asked, turning toward his new

0e.

It was a thoughtless movement, for Luke Lister
Cook immediate advantage of it, by rushing forward
and dashing the pistol from his hand.

It exploded as it struck the floor, the bullet darting
harmlessly outward.

"It is our turn now. Luk ‘l" yelled Mark, exulting-
ly. “ Go for himl You owe him a return for what
he has done to you i" _ _

In an instant the two_Viilains rushed upon their
youthful antagonist. Will was at a serious disad-
vantage in one hand being incumbered with the

rccious packet. He struck fiercely at Mark Pres-
on with the other, but th * agile villain eluded his
blow. At the same instant Luke cla- .ed him firmly
aroutud the body, hampering his nrther move-
men s.

" Fling him, papers and all, into the flrel" yelled
Mark. “No one will know but it was an accident.
it is our turn now, Luke," .

Yet. hampered as Will was, it proved no easy
matter to carry out their murderous“ project. The
three foes staggered over the floor, backward and
forward, Will being almost a match for the pair of

em

Yet they approachnd nearer and nearer to the red
gulf from which the flames were surging.

But now with adesperate effort. the young athlete
tore loose his left arm from their hampering clas .
In an instant it was extended above his head, holg-
lug aloft the Iprecious package.

" This shal be saved, whatever becomes of me!"
he cried. dashing it fiercely at the window.

The action was followed by aloud crash of glass.
as the missile rent its way through a pane, flying
with the impetus of a bullet across the room an
into the street without.

r A curse of baffled hate broke from Mark Preston’s
ips.
“ We will settle for you. anyhow l" he ejaculated.
Indeed. it looked as if they would. for they stood
almost on the verge of the flaming an as of fire

from which a scorching heat enveloped t em. An
Luke Lister had seized Will from behind in such a
way that the young athlete was held at a serious
disadvantage.

 

- *AV-‘iwfi

 

 

Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

 

One ste more, and it seemed inevitable that he
would be urled into the flaming gulf.
But at this instant, with one fierce blow of an ax.

the sash. glass and all. came crashing from ils ‘

frame, and a tall, gigantic form leaped through the
open space into the room.

A quick glance, a mighty spring, and Pierce
Browning was upon the interlocked combatants.

“ Four can lay at that game,“ he cried, as he
caught Mark reston with one hand, and sent him
whirling like a to across the room.

His other han' grasped Luke Lister in the same
manner, tore him 10050 from his hold upon Will, and
dashed him to the floor as though he had been a
lifeless log.

“ Lie there, you murdering brute l" he exclaimed.
“And if the fire ets you it will be what you de-
svervel Come, Wil , these quarters are getting too
hot for comfort.”

He dragged Will—who was somewhat dazed with
the heat and smoke, and the violence of his ext-1‘-
tions—across the floor to the window, and hastily
helped him out u on the ladder.

. “Down it like ightningl” he cried. “The fire is
licking its rounds already 1"

Will, whom the touch of the outer air had brought
back to his senses, lost no time in obeying this wise
Command. He was followed down the ladder by
Pierce, beneath whose Weight the slender support
groaned.

“Is there any one else there?” demanded a fire-
man.

“ Yes, two hounds who ought to be roasted to burn
the rascalin out of them. But you can go for them
if you wish.”.

There was no need to go for Mark Preston. He
was alreadythrough the window and upon the lad-
der, abandoning his villainous associate in his selfish
cowardice.

But two firemen immediately ran up the ladder,
and entered the room. Nor were they any too soon.
Luke Lister, half stunned by the violence of his fall,
was only now groping his way to his feet. He would
inevitably have erished had they not dragged him
hastily to the la der. for the were hardly out of the
room when a great ush o flames broke through
the floor, and surge in a crimson flood to the ceil-
mg.

“ A devilish narrow squeak!" exclaimed a veteran
fireman, as he directed a. stream of water through
the open window. “ I s’pose yon chaps were play-
mga game of eucher in there, by the quiet way in
which you were taking things.”

_“ What became of the package I flung through the
Window?" asked Will, looking inquiringly around.

“ You flung through the windowl" cried Mark
Preston, virulently. “ You want to rob me of that,
too, do you, after trying to murder me in there?
G.ntlemeln, this man set fire to the house, and then
tried to fimg me into the flames.”

There were some fierce looks at Will, as this accu-
sation was made in tones of indignant anger.

But the youth contented himself with a scornful
shrug of the shoulders. and looked questionineg
around him for the missing package.

“Don’t give it to the villain I” cried Mark again.
“It is mIne. and I demand it from whoever has it.”

“You had better come get it then,” said a voice
near him. " Here it is." .

. Mark turned and ran quickly to the person speak-
ing. anxious to obtain possessmn of the precious
sackage before Will Wildfire could again interfere.

nce in his own hands he felt confident in his power
to retain it.

But instead of receiving the coveted package, he
found himself seized by the collar, a. firm hand
grasping him in a vise like gripe, while avoice which

e now recognized called out:

“Here he is. Willi The thief and hound! What
shall I do with him. confound his ugly mugl”

.It was the voice of Ben Huntly, raised to a high
pitch of indignation,

 

“Let him go!” yelled a. fireman, “or I‘ll flatten
you out! Didn't we hear that this young villain
tried to murder him 1’"

“That’s sol" screamed Luke Lister. “ He tried
it on both of us! Go for him, ladsl Hustle the
smooth-faced hound!" .

There Was a surge of the disengaged bystanders
toward Will. who stood unmoved; though a red
flush marked his face.

“ Hold Lherel" cried Pierce Browning. placing his
huge bulk in their way. “Drove a Word to say in,
this business. Was not I the first up the ladder?”

“Yrs yes,” came several voices.

“Well, then, I found this pair of tender-hearted
cutthr. uts doing their best to fling the young man
here into the fire. If I hadn’t been in time there
wouldn’t now have been much left of him but
ashes."

“That‘s so!" exclaimed a fireman. “I was after
you, up the ladder. and saw it all, They are a
conpie of infernal murdering rascals, and it would
be only sauce to them to fling the brace of them
back into the tire.”

“Put them under the nozzlel Give them a.
drenchingl" roared several voices. _
The hint was instantly taken. A dozen Vigorous
hands seized the two villains, despite their efforts to
escape, and dragged them before the house, where

was an open space.

The next moment a. burly fireman directed toward
them the nozzle of the hose with which he had been
sending a. hissing stream upon the fire, and poured
its drenching flood over their shrinking forms.

Their captors broke and ran on all sides, leaving
them standing alone. In an instant they were
knocked flat by the fierce torrent of water, and half
drowned as it continued to drench them from head
to foot, covering them With mud and gravel dug
from the street by the hissing stream. _

The two overturned villains crawled as quickly as
possible out of the range of the sufifocalmg flood,
and scrambling to their feet, ran hastilyinto the
thick of the crowd.

They were followed and assailed everywhere by
shouts of derisive laughter. They presentedhm-
deed, a. sorry spectacle. with tie water streaming
from them in muddy rivulets, while down their faces
coursed little channels of mud, giving them a most
ludicrous and disconsolate aspect.

"I’ve a notion their goose is cooked," remarked
Pierce. who had sttod by smiling. as if it would be
too much of an exertion to laugh outright. “ You’ve
won the belt Will. You‘re a diamond of the first
water. You have got to give us a prime set-out at
Wildflower Hall for this.” . _ ,

“Won’t I, thoughl" exclaimed Will, joyously.
“ We’ll make the raftersring in that old mansion,
or there’s no strength 1n good lungs, or Virtue in
good cheer." . ._ _ ‘

“And now let us be slidin ,” reJomed Ben Huntly.
“That chap Preston has go as many tricks as the
fox of the old fable. He will work some new game
upon us yet, if we stay here."

With a last look at the burning house, in which
the flames were now slowly ylielding to the gushing
streams of water poured on t cm from every direc-
tion, the three friends left the place, threading their
way through the dense crowd which had been roped
off from the immediate vicinity of the fire. "

"How came you to get the package, Ben? asked
Will. “ Did it strike near you?" A “ '

“ I think so," replied Ben, dryly. Near enough to
take me s new in the breast, and ,knock 'me as flat
as a floun er. I might have known that It was your
hand flung it, by the way it came. ‘

CHAPTER XVIII.
AND THE ass or ALL.

A sum day in early November rested "with
all the soft charm of the Indian summer upon Wild--
flower Hell. The brilliancy or the autumn woods

1

 

30

Will Wildfire, tho Thoroughbred.

 

which had given their charm to the landscape when
we were last there. was now fled. The trees lifted
their branches leaflesst into the air, shorn of all
their brilliant foliage, yet looking in the soft Novem-
ber air as if N More had madea mistake in stripping
them so early for the winter storms.

In the large saloon of the mansion a groufi of
people were assembled, comprising most of t o
with whom we have kept company through these

acres.

I)fhere Were Will's young gentlemen friends. Ben
Huntl , Harry Waters, and Pierce Browning, the
latter eaninz indolcn'ly back in an easy-chair, and
seemingly far more interested in his finger-nails
than in what was going on.

There was present. a so, Lucille Maynard, her face
radiant in its setting of golden hair; and her mother.
dressed in her best black, and apparently deeming
- this one of the great occasions of her life.

Clara Moreland was also present. She had just
ridden up on her noble black horse, and now sat
somewhat apart from the rest. eyed with a. dubious
glance by Mrs. Maynard, who was still in doubt what
to make of her.

This doubtful look, however, was partly intended
for Pete, her sable confederate, who was also pres-
ent and who kept close to her as his one sure friend
in the multitude.

“ Is not that the strange woman whose behavior
we so much distrusted?“ asked Mrs. Maynard, in a
stage whisper of her daughter, who sat beside her.
“What brings her here?"

“We were mistaken about her.” whis ered Lu-
cille, soothin ly. “Cousin Will has to d me all
about her. 8 e is another who has suffered from
Mark Preston‘s villainy. ”

“Ohl"' said the mother, with a partly satisfied
sigh. " But the black boy? Is he not the spy? The
one that got that letter? I am sure he is."

“Yes. But he is all right now. He has left Mark
Preston‘s service.”

“ I am sure I hope so,“ returned the mother, with
an air of relief.

There were several other persons presentI the one
of whom in which we have Just now the greatest in-
terest being Ralph Emerson. who sat, in his quiet,
dignified manner, beside a table in the upper end of
the room. Upon this table there lay opened before
him a number of papers.

“These documents have been preserved through
great tribulation.” he said, as he belted at the as-
sembly. keepin his hand on one of the papers. “ If
I had dreame of the reat demand likely to arise
for them (would have een more careful in regard
to letting them out of my hands. Fortunate] , how-
ever, they have been recovered. Otherwue might

v have had a. settlement to make with Mark Preston,

which will not be necessary now. These are the will
V and various accompanying papers of Harry Wild-

fire. deceased. left by him in my care.”

~ Eager attention was paid to him now. as he opened
' the will and pre ared to read its contents.

“ I hope it is a 1 right." whispered Mrs. Maynard,
to her daughter, “but I can‘t help feeling a trifle
nervous. Supfose we are cut off after all. Ralph
may have ma e a mistake.”

‘fRalp‘i never makes mistakes,” rejoined Lucille,
quietly. ,

“ item: I ive and bequeath unto my cousin,
Mary Maynar , the sum of twenty thousand dollars
,to be paid to her out of my personal estate," tea
the steady voice of Rilph Emerson.

A sudden flush of 20y came into the old lady‘s face,
as her daughter sof 1y repeated: _

“Did I not so so? Ralph makes no mistakes.”

“ Ha Wil fire always was a gentleman,” re-
joined the mother. decidedly.

The items of several smaller legacies were now
read. after which the reader came to the one most
impertant feature of the document.

" All the rest and residue of my real estate and per-
sonal property I give, devise and bequeath unto my

 

nephew, William Wildfire. the son of my beloved
brother, John Wildfire. now deceased."

A cry of con%atulation rose from all present. B:n
Huntly seized ill's hand and shook it warmly.

“ We‘ll help you spend it. my boy. Don’t you be
troubled on that score,“ remarked Pierce Browning,
Iookin lazily up.

“ G01 1 but 1 so do boy who’d like to be dar my-
self," w ispered Pete, in a. voice that was heard all
over the room.

A general smile followed the intense earnestness
of the little fellow‘s remark.

The reader went quietly on, heedless of these
interruptions. He was made executor of the will,
in company with two other persons named. But
the most interestingr remainin: feature of the doom
ment was a closing remark in reference to Mark
Preston.

It ran as follows:

“Through certain misrepresentations. whose
character it is not necessary here to detail, I was
given a false im ression of the conduct of my
nephew. William ildflre, at college, and was in-
duced, in a moment of anger. to make a. will leaving
all my roperty to Mark Preston, whom I now
know to ave been the author of these misrepresen-
tations.
regard to these false statements, and that my
nephew has always comported himself with dignity
and self-respect, make this. my will, in his favor;
and in Punishment of Mark Preston, for his vile and
false s antlers, I leave him out of the list of my
heirs.”

“And serves him right, for a confounded, two-
faced rascall” said Pierce Browning, with unusual
energy for him. “I‘d feel like giving him a sensing
yet, only that I don’t think he has had it very com-
fortable for the last week or two.”

“Hardly,” replied Huntly. “Between his cow-
hiding by our friend Will. his raste of prison life, and
his bath under an engine hose, it Seems to me that
he has been repaid for some of his rascality.”

“ And the worst of it all is, that he has lost his
game," rejoined Will.

“ Dat ain’t de wu'st ob all, nohow," cried Pete,pro-
trudine his black face from his corner.

“ What is, then, Pete?”

“ He's loss Missie Clara, dat‘s bad. An' he's loss
Pete; dat’s de wn’st. He‘s loss Pete, cl’ar out.
’OozHI’s discharged um, and 1‘s Marse Will‘s boy
now.

The laugh that arose at Pete’s idea of calamity to
his old master broke up a certain stiffness in the as-
semblage. Thev mingled with each other. chatting
and lane-hing, ill being overwhelmed with con-
gratulations: of which also Lucille and her mother
came in for no small share.

it was not long before the youthful proprietor of
Wildflower Hall found himself cornered by his
stately aunt, Mrs. Maynard, who poured out a
series of congratulaions and admonitions in a
breath, which made Will wish she was on the other
side of the sea.

"I have always entertained the hope.“ the cod
lariy continued, “that you and mv dear daug tor
Lucille might grow to esteem and love each other.
You are only second cousins, you know; and it
would be so pleasant to have the family cemented.“

"Why-yes—" stammered Will. taken aback by
this proposition. “ Yes—of course—buf—"

“Mammal mammal” appealed Lucxlle, who had
hap ned to overhear this remark. . “How can you
thin so? What will cousin Will think?" '

The young lady was crimson with blushes, and her
tone full of distress.

“But, child. you don‘t let me finish." continued
the mother, calmly. “I was about to say, my dear
nephew. how sorry I was that my cherished idea,
could not be consummated. But Lucille. without
consulting me. has engaged herself to Ralph Emer-
son. He is a good man. to be sure; hut—“ '

As I have, fortunately, learned the truth in -

0

 

 

 

 

 

Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred.

31

 

"But, momma ” cried the blushing girl, “I am
lure that cousin Will must be glad of the chance to

cape me."

“I would not be so sure of that." replied Will,
looking smilingly into the charming face before him.

“At all events, you are too late." said Mr. Emer-
son, placing his arm around Lucille‘s slender waist,
“ ou must give this prize up to me, in return for
w at I have brought you from beyond the seas.”

“ I will not stand in the we of a prior claim,“ re-
joined Will. “But, if it ha been an open field, I
don’t know—"

“I know then," replied Lucille, with laughing de-
flance. “I hardly think I could have been had by
contract.” ‘

The next hour or two at Wildflower Hall Were
lively times.

An elegant dinner had been provided, to which the
guests did ample justice. while jests, toasts. and all
the enjoyments which make time pass merrily by
gave tone to the gsyetv of all their hearts. and
made the old walls of Wildflower Hall ring with a
merrlment to which they had long been strangers.

It was late in the afternoon when Will stood beside
Clara Moraland, on the roadside, near the gate lead-
ing into the rounds of the Hall.

“lam so g ad,” he said. “ that you have succeeded
in getting possession of that dangerous paper, and
thus being able to defy your unscrupulous enemy.”

“I feel so freel" she rejoined in a glad tone.
“True liberty has been so long a stranger to me,
that I can hardly tell you how I enjoy it.“

“I thank you for taking the trouble to bring‘me
word of your triumph. And also for being 'ind
enough to make one of my own party of triumph.”

“I am sure I have highly enjoyed it,” she re-
joined.

“ There is another reason," he continued, moving
nearer her, and speaking in alower lone. “There
is another cause of my gladness at your escape from
Mark Preston.“ .

“ What is that?” she asked, lifting her soft brown

eyes to his.
“ It is that I still retain a certain gift, bestowed on

~ me bya fair hand. You cannot know how I prize ‘
' my forget'me-not.

If I could but add to it—" He
hesitated and was silent.

“What?” she asked in a low tone, her eyes now
downcast, while a deep flush came warmly into her
cheek. '

“ be hand which gave it to me '3 he resumed.
" Thais ,fair hand, which I prize, which I love be-

on —
y He suddenly dropped the hand he had taken, and
turned away in a vexed manner, as a shrill, boyish
voice fell on his ear.

“ Here‘s yer hoss. Missle Clara. Jess as much as
Pete kin do to hold him. Ain’t you ‘teared to ride
sich a outrageous black critter? Golly, I wouldn't
ride um for a. wagon-load o’ c'icoanuts.”

“Take him away, Pete, Miss Clara is not ready for
him yet," said Will, in a stern tone..

“ Take um away! ’ re sated Pete, his eyes glitter-
ing with half-conceale ,mischief. “Can’t take um
away. Neber see‘d slch a. hossl Kee s takin’ me
awa . Jess wish you‘d git on him, '5 Clara,
’cos e's too much for Pete.”

Will could not help laughing as he saw the mite of
ablack boy tugging at the head of the great black
horse who we ked up to his mistress as quietly as if
it had been a iiy’s weight at his bridle.

“I must go," she said, in a. low tone, and with

THE

 

averted face. “ Will you help me on my horse, Mr.
Wildfire?" ,

Will silently ind the horse up lo a bank beside the
fence, and quietly aided her to mount.

Her face was still averted as she said, “Thank
you,” in a scarcely audible tone of voice.

He still held her hand.

“Have you no word 1‘ or me, Clara?" he asked.

“Not here, or now,” she anSWered, gathering the
reins in her left hand, and turning her face toward
him, a faint crimson tinging her cheeks, alight of
re ressed excitement burning in her eyes.

6 hesitated a moment, and then lifted the hand
he held to his lips.

“ I will see you soon," he said, releasing her.

In a moment more the uneasy black steed was
trampling down the road, his fair rider not turnln
agaigi, but leaving Will standing in a deep mazoo
don t.

“ Golly, but she‘s do pretty lady. Morse Will,“ said
Pete. his eyes rolling With admiration. ‘

“And you’re a blunder"ng black imp," rejoined .
Will angrily. walking awn. toward the house.

Pete stood in the road iko a statue of astonish-
ment, though shrewd eyes might have detected acon-
cealed sense of enjoyment in his face. _

"Wonder what were oin’ on ‘tween Marse “ill
and Missie Clara?“ he a. lied himself. “ Team as if
Pete weren’t wanted. Dis nig '6 better kee cl‘ar of
dem two, or he'll git himself in trouble. sua ."

 

A year has assed since the date of this merry-
making at W: dflower Hall, a year marked with
many events which we have no room to detail here.
Will is still in doubt whether Clara Moreland returns
his love or not, though anybod but a lover might -
have easily uessed that he he no cause to fear.

For Mark reston, and his all Luke Lister, have
not been quiet, but have given iii trouble in more
ways than one, and have efl'ect ally hindered a re-
news] of his declaration of love 0 Clara Moreland.

But all this has nothing to do with our present
story. except to show cause why Will Wildfire is
still a bachelor. . .

But .he is hardly a disconsolate bachelor, for bad
he not his circle of friends, and do they not make
the rafters of Wildflower Hall ring with man a.
merry song and live] Jest while music and done ng
give a new youth to bat staid mansion of the st?

As for Lucille Maynard. she is now Lucille ‘mer-
son. and is one of the happiest of Will‘s friends.

And as for Pete. he is still in Will’s service, the
liveliest most mischievous little imp that could well
be imagined.

As for the villains of our story they managed to
avoid punishment for their crimes. Mark Preston
had escaped from Lancaster by giving bail, and as

.the charge of the theft was not pressed against him,’

he was left with the knowledge of the fai
plans as sole punishment.

And, though there was little doubt that Luke
Lister was himself the author of the conflngration at.
his house, yet there was no positive root of it; and
no chance of convicting him for t e crime. The
insurance on_ his furniture, which was one of the
obJects of his crime. has not yl-t been add, but he
swears privately to his friends that he w ll make the
insurance company sweat, if it refuses to pay up.

And so we leave our friends, for the present, en-
joying the fruits of their actions, good or bad, as the
case may be.

ure of his _

END.

 

 

 

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1 Deadwood Dick, tho Prince of the Rad. By Ed.
ward L. Whaler.
Krnnnfihsl King; or, Thu Red Right Hand. By Bur.
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The Flying Yankee. Bv Col. Prentlsr ingruhnm.
The Double Dag erg. By Edward L. Wheeler.
The Two Detect veg. By Albert W. Aiken.
The Prairie l’llot. By Buffalo Bill.
The Buii'nlo emon. By Edward L. Wheeler.
Antelo e Abe, the Boy Guide. By Oil Coomel.
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liui‘l’olo lien, the Prince of the Piutal. By Edward
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Ralph Boy. the Boy Buccaneer. By 041. Ingrnham.
Nick o’ the NI ht. By T. C. Hurbuugh.
Yellowstone ack. By JOBPph E. Badger. .lr.
\Vild [van the Boy Cluude Duval. By E. L.Whealer.
Diamond Dirk. By Colonel Prentiu Inzrulialn.
Keen-Knife, Prince of the Prulrieu. By Oil Coomel.
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Death-Face, the Detective. By E. 1.. Wheeler.
Lasso J nck. lly Oll Coomer.
ooring Rnlgih Rockwood, the Recklen Rnnger.
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The Sen-Ont. By Cnptuln ‘raderick Whittuker.
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By Harr St. George.
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Galois-Eye, the Great Shot of the Welt. By Capt. J.
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Dick Darling, th‘;r Pony Expreu Rider. By Capt.
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Bob Woolf, the Border Ruflion. By E. L. Wheeler.
Nightingale Nat. y T. C. Hnrbnugh.
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.‘imS.

89 Dead] Eve. the Unknown Scout. Bv Bull'alo Bill.
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Deadwood Dick’: Enflcn. y E. L. Wheeler.
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By Harry St. George.
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T liy Cul. Prentisn Ingraham.
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J k. B T. C. Hnrbaugh.

9 ll By June h E. Badger, Jr.
Single “and. W. J. umiltnn.
Patent-leather oe. By Pillle S. Warn.

2 The Border Robin Hood. By Buliqu Bill.
Gold Rifle the Sha shooter. By E

4 ma znv. (mm... .1. .c Adama.
Delaware Dick. Coomu.

ti Mad Tom W By W. J. Hamilton. .
Deadwood Dick on Deck. By E. L. Wheeler.
llawkeye llarry. By Oll Canines.

The Boy Duelilt. B Col. Prentlu lnzraham.
Abe 00 t, the Crow-Kl lar. By Albert W. Aiken.
Corduroy Chm-lie. By Edward L.Wheelcr.
Will Someru. the B0 Detective. By Chan. Marrll.
Sol Gin er the Gian Trapper. By AMW. Aiken.
Honcho 1 ob. By Edward 1.. Wheeler.
LJluhtninfi Joe, the Terror of the Prairie. By Capt.
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Kit. {[nrefoot, the Wood-Hawk. By '1‘. C. liar-
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Rollo, the Boy Bangor. B Oll Coomel.
ldyl. the Girl Miner. B ward L. Wheeler.
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:0 Sure Shot Both, the Boy Riflemnn. By Oil Coomu.

a 1 Shin?) born; ur, The Adl'unlurus urn Friend es! Boy.
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72 The Lion oi’thc Sou. By Albert Vi”. Ailzen.

78 Photograph Phli,llluli0_\ Sleuth. ByE.L.Vl’heeler.

7:1 l’lcuynnc Pete. By Charh-a itlm-r 5.

Tu lsltuld Jlln: or.'ihr Pet ofthe Funnily. By Bruce-
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16 Watch-Eye, the Slitlilnw. liy Edward L. Wheeler.

7'? Dick Dead Eye, tho Buy Smuggler. By Col. 1’. in-

gruharn.
78 Deadwood Divk’a Device. By Ed. L. Vl'heelor.
'29 Th By Captain ltlnyno

e Block Mu-iul t .

Reid und Frederick Whiiifiizr.

30 old Frosty, iha Guide. liy 1‘. C. liurhnugh.

81 The Sea Viper. By Cnl. Freniial ingrnhnm.

3; Beth Jonea; or, The ('nptiven oi the Frontier. By
Edward S. l‘lllia.

33 Canada Chet, the Countvrl'elter Chief. By Edward
L. Vt healer.

84 The Dumb ane. B '0" t. Frederick Whittnliar.

85 The Boy Miners. 133' E. win S. Ellil.

86 Jack llm-kuwny ill New York. By Brace-
hrulirc llvrnynu.

8‘? The llunuur Onpt It. By (‘01. Prentiss lnzrnhum.

88 Dcmiwuod Dick in .cmlvillc. ilyE. LWhoeler.

89 Hill Biddon’ Trapper. By Edward S. Ellis.

90 l ippy. th- ’1 0mm. liy (imirue Gleason.

91 Multan]: Sum, [he King ..r the Plain. By Jot. E.
Badger, Jr.

92 The occnn Bloodhound. By Samuel W. Prince.

98 Phil llnrdv, the linas Br '. By Charles Morris.

94 Deadwood Dick nu Detective. By E. L.Wheeler.

95 Buck Bnckrnm. lly (‘aptnin J. F. C. Adams.

96 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Deiectire. By E. L.

Vi heelrr.
97 TthBlack Steed oi' the Prairies. By Jame-I
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99 Bonanza Bil , the Mnn ’l‘rncker. By E. L. Wheeler.
100 Nnt Todd: or, The Futo vi the Sioux Captive. By
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101 During Davy, the Young Bear Killer.
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102 The Yellow Chit-f; or,'l‘he Hali-bloodn Vangennco.

liv Cupi. Mayne Iicld.
103 Chip, the Girl Sport. By Edward L. Wheeler.
ily linger Starhnck.

104 The Block Schooner.
105 llnndnomc Harry, the Uooihlnck Detective.
Charles Morris.

106 Night-llnwk Kit. ,
107 Jack llovle‘a Lend. liy Edward L. Wheeler.
108 Rock Mountain mt. By T. c. Hnrbaugh.

109 The rnnded "and. lly Fman Dumont.

110 The Dread Rider. By George W. Browne.
111 30!! Bob. the King orBoutblachI. By E. L.Whee'cr.
119 The llelpleu llund. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

1 I 8 Fear-Filer: Saul, the Silent iluntrr. By Oil Coomel.
1 l4 I’incy Paul. the Mountain Boy. By’l‘. C. Harbnugh.
115 Deadwood Dick’u Double. By E. L. “'hcelar.
116 Jahez Collin. Shipper. By Capt. F. Whittaker.

11’? anc Frank, of (‘nlnradm By lion. W. F. Cody.
“ Bu 1110 Bill." Renlly April 'I.

118 W “I Wilt"! re, the Thoroughbred. By Chul. Morrll.
Ready April N.

119 lllonde Bill‘SJ or. Dendwond Dick’s Hume Bate.
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