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2 » Kentuck Talbot?! Band.

Kentuck Talbot’sv Band;

1

THE RED L‘ASSO.

BY CAPT. MARK WILTON, I
AUTHOR OF “LADY JAGUAR,” ETC., ETC.

 

CHAPTER I.
THE FATAL LAsso.

“ Too latel”

The terse exclamation fell from bloodless
lips and in a voice that was almost a groan,
while he who had spoken stared straight
ahead like a man who sees a ghost.

The scene was in Mexico, at a time when
the war between that country and the United
States was at its hight, and dark deeds were
perpetrated along the boundary line.

It was a struggle marked by lawless acts.

' for the Mexicans, as. a people, are not noted

for great-magnanimity, and their hatred for
the “accursed invaders” was bitter in the
extreme. '

“ Too late!”

The man who had thus spoken sat at the
head of a party of horsemen numbering two-
score. It needed but one glance at their
faces and dress to see they were Texas Ran-
gers, and a valiant looking band were they.

' White foam clung thickly upon the sides
and flanks of the horses they bestrode, for
they had ridden fast and fan—ridden thus,
only to arrive too late.

hey had come to suceor a party of their

'own countrymen, who, they had heard,

were penned up in a wretched hovel by a
superior force of. Mexicans, and, led b one

' who was dce ly interested, they had ridden

madly nntil t e adobe dwelling appeared be-
fore them.

One glanee at it, however, was enough to
dash their hopes to the ground, for in the
silent field around the place,and in the broken
walls and down-fallen gate of the building,
they read a story as unwelcome as it was
comprehensible.

They had arrived too late to take part in
the red drama, and they could foresee but

I . one end which could have come to the

afiray.

The man who had guided them to the spot
was the same who sat at their head, and who
had uttered the exclamation recorded, but
though he seemed far more interested than
any of his companions, he sat like a statue

7; g afterthat one exclamation, looking at the
g building with a fixed, stare.

;

I ‘ : ’ ' .

 

“ You are right, Maxwell; we have come
too late.”

The speaker sat just behind the guide and
wore the dress of a Texan major. He was
the commander of the troops.

Maxwell, the guide, seemed aroused to
new life by this remark, for suddenly throw-
ing off his stupefaction, he plunged his spurs
into the sides of his horse, and spoke one
word:

“ Follow I"

And with this terse command, he dashed
madly toward the building, followed by the
other men. The latter glanced at each other
significantly as they rode.

“ Poor Maxwell is hit hard,” said one.

“ No wonder. lle an’ Luke Brastow
were bosom friends an’ Nate is a man who
never does things by halves, Ef he likes a.
man, he likes him a good deal; of he hates,
woe be to his enemyl”

“It may not be so bad, after all," added
another. “Brastow may have escaped, or
may be a prisoner.”

, “ We shall soon see.”

The words were spoken as the command
reaehed the building. It had once been a
stout structure of its kind, but it had been
abandoned for some time and must have
made a poor fort for the handful of Texans
who had taken refuge there from the Mexi-
cans.

Maxwell, followed by his companions, had
reached the gateway. and the former Slld
from his horse and entered.

An appalling sight met his gaze.

No living person was visible, but upon
the floor were dead men, and all were the
dress of Texas Rangers.

They were all that were left of the late de- ,

fenders!

The would~be rescuers gazed at them si-
lently and almost without motion, but the
eyes of Nathan Maxwell flashed eagerly
about the place. He seemed looking for
some one he did not see.

The building was divided into two rooms,
and the guide strode through the doorway to
the inner one.

He had no sooner Crossed the threshold.

than he uttered a hoarse cryand his com-
rades hastily followed. A sight even more
horrible than the first awaited them,

From the roof, five men, all Texans,
swung slowly to and fro from the ends of
lassoes. .

Upon one of the unfortunate, the gaze of
Nathan Maxwell had become fixed, and with
a few long strides he pressed to his side.
Then, with one sweep of his knife he cut the
lasso and caught the body as it fell.

The Rangers stood in silence as they saw
him bend over the cold clay. Dead beyond

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Kentuck Talbot’s Band.

 

 

recall the man surely was, but Maxwell laid
his hand over the pulseless heart before he

’ gave up all hope.

His comrades were cutting down the other
hanged men, and though they spoke few
words, their flashing eyes and compressed
lips were eloquent in themselves. They laid
the poor fellows side by side, but they could
do no more for them, and then, as one man,
they turned toward Maxwell.

He still knelt beside the corpse, and his
eyes were fixed with strange intentness upon
the white face.

The Rangers looked on in a species of
awe. Nathan Maxwell and Luke Brastow
had been friends of an extraordinary type.
For years they had hunted, scouted, slept
and lived together, and the tie which had
bound them had been of a remarkable
nature.

Now, he who survived knelt on the bare.
flagging and stared at the face of his dead
friend with white wild eyes and haggard
face.

Silence reigned in the place for several mo-
ments, for much as all the men felt their loss
—for all these murdered Rangers had been
their comrades-in arms—they knew that
Maxwell was the keenest sufferer; but the
major at last advanced and laid his hand
upon his shoulder.

, “We cannot help them now/’lhe kindly
said.

Maxwell-raised his head and looked at his
superior with glassy eyes:

“ Dead! dead!" he hoarser muttered.

“They died like men.”

“Ay, but how were they killed? Was

this deed done as one enemy should do to
another?”

The hot blood surged back into the guide’s
face, and an ominous look crept into his
eyes.

“It was horribly done,” answered the
major.

“ It was ficndishly done.”

“We are come too late for relief, but it
may not be too late for vengeance. Let us
lose no time, but bury our dead and pursue
their murderers. ”

A. look of fury crossed Maxwell’s face,

' and, arising, he tore down the lasso by which

Brastow had been hanged.

Then his companions looked in astonish-
ment as he coiled the lasso and drew it again
and again through the pool of blood under
Brastow’s body until it ,was saturated, red

, and slippery.

The Texans watched in amazement. The
act seemed like that of a madman, but there
yyias that in his manner which dispelled the
1 ea.
He held the scarlet thing aloft and spoke

 

in a manner full of a fixed and relentless
purpose:

“Comrades!” he huskily said, “behold
this lasso! It is the same by which Luke
Brastow was hanged. and it is red with his

blood. He was baser murdered, but” he

leaves behind one who will avenge his death.
Hear me, Texans, when I swear that earth
nor sea shall hide the assassin from my arml
I will follow him though it be for years, and,
when he is found, this same lasso shall end
his life. With this blood upon it, I will
strangle him though he be the President of
Mexico!”

His voice grew clearer as he proceeded,
and at the end rung out like a voice of fate.
His manner, too, was fixed as the peaks of
Ccrro Gordo.

A subdued cheer went up from the
Rangers. Every man there sympathized
with Maxwell, every one was eager to strike
a blow at the murderer.

“ Vengeaneel" the bold men shouted, and
their leader removed his hat and added his
voice to theirs.

“Vengeance shall be yours, and right
speedily,” he said. “Come, let us bury the
dead. and then on to seek the enemy!"

Nathan Maxwell went outside and hung
the crimsoned lasso in the sun, Where it
would dry, and then he joined his compan-
Ions.

Not much time was required to inter the
dead. The Mexicans had taken away their
own slain, so that when the Texans had been
carried from the building it was deserted ex—
cept for the signs of the massacre‘v—the
broken gate, the breached walls and the .
dark stains upon the floor. .

One long, deep grave was made and the
bodies laid in a row, Luke Braslow at the
head, and then the earth was replaced and
everything done to make the burial seem
civilized.

Maxwell did his part, but he did not once
speak, and his terrible calmness touched the
Rangers.

“ He lives only for vengeance now,
one.

“He will not live to obtain it unless it
comes quickly. His brain is giving way un-
der the 'shoek, and you may look to see him
become a madman.” . .

“He is made of sterner stuff," addeda
third. “Just now he looks bad enough, but
he will rally, and then woe to his enemies.”

Some of them glanced at the red lasso,~
fast drying in the sun, and, hardened men
that they were, they shuddered at the
thought of carrying such a thing. :

But Nathan Maxwell, when their ka.
was done, calmly secured it, and, when they

:1

said

 

 

  

4

Kentuck Talbot’s Band.

 

 

started on the trail, it hung coiled from his
saddle pommel.
And the avengers swept away on the mur-
V derers’ track with him at their head. The
search for retribution was begun.

 

CHAPTER II.
THE BEGINNING or VENGEANCE.

AFTER, finishing their work, the Mexicans
rode away in a westerly direction. and the
trail soon showed that they had gone at so
moderate a pace that hope sprung up in the
Texans' breasts that they might be over«
taken.

Unless their loss in the engagement with
the murdered men had been greater than
seemed probable, they still outnumbered the
avengers, but not a thought was given to
that fact. The latter were not men to count
odds in such a case.

The discovery of the situation at the ram
‘ had been made in this way: The handful of

Texans, with Maxwell and Brastow as mem-
bers, had gone out on a scout with Nathan
as guide. He was reconnoitering some dis-
tance ahead when the detachment was come
upon and forced to seek shelter in the adobe
dwelling, and when he discovered their peril
he had gone at once for aid, with the result
already told.

The prospect of overtaking the murderers
acted like magic on the spirits of the pur-
suers,,and they urged forward their horses
as fast as the character of the way would
admit. At times the trees and underbrush
were so thick that they could only advance
at a walk, but when the way was more open
they broke into a gallop.

In the band was one man whom the major
kept beside him, for his knowledge of the
country was superior to that of any other
there. _

Young Edwin Talbot was a Kentuckian
by birth, but he had always led a roving life,

i and the two years previous to the opening of
the war had been passed by him within a
circle of fifty miles about the very ground
they were now traversing. With the open-
ing of hostilities, he had at once enlisted in
the Texan ranks. and his acquaintanceship
with the hostile country had more than once
Served his cause well.

Major Palmer had frequently offered him
a position as his special scout and spy, but
he had declined the invitation. Circumstan-
ces had led some of his associates to doubt

[ his good faith, but the major believed in

and trusted him in spite of all.

Now, as usual, he was called to the front,
and those who doubted him looked with
troubled faces as they saw Palmer taking
counsel of him asthey rode alonv.

( .

 

“ I don’t like the looks of it," said a.
Texan whose name was Nelson. “ We are
in a dangerous locality‘and few in number,
and it would be very easy for him to lead us
into a trap.”

“ As long as we folly ther trail 0’ the
Greasers, I don’t see es it makes any differ-
ence whether he rides at the front or the
rear,” observed the man beside him.

“ I know you have a soft side for Young
Kentuck, Jack Plunkett, but one traitor in
a band may do a good deal of mischief.”

“How you kin make Ed Talbot out a
traitor I don’t see. Ain’t he allays fit as
well as any on us when in a skrimmage?”

“I won't deny that, but you know there
have been suspicious things about him. He
ain’t always around as he should be, and
more than one of the boys have suspected
him.”

“ \Vrongfully, Abe Nelson, I sart’inly be-
lieve. The lad has got a good, honist face,
an‘ I rayther take ter him."

The subject of their conversation certainly
did have an honest-looking face, and it was
one full of resolution which, if riglltly di-
rected, would prove a tower of strength to
the cause in which he engaged. As he rode
beside the major, he looked like anything
but atrait'or, but there. are times when it is
not wise to trust a man implicitly if appear-
ances are against him.

“ We are gaining rapidly on the dogs,”
said the major, looking keenly at the trail.

“They are carrying their dead,” said Tal-
bot briefly.

“ What is their purpose in that?"

“Probably they have some particular lo-
cality selected as a place of burial, but it can
not be far away. They will not make 9.
gr Bttt journey under the circumstances, and
all this is in our favor.”

“ if they pause, we are liable to come
upon them at any time.”

“ Yes, sir.”

“ Is there any danger of running into an
ambush?"

“ i think not. \ Probably they have no idea.

that we are near, and they will not dream of '

such speedy retribution.’

“ You say our course is taking us toward
the denser forest?’

"Yes, sir. There are no villages in this
direction for miles, and if we keep straight
on we shall soon reach a Chaparral which
covers many acres. it is not at all likely
the Mexicans will go there, for it is a
place little frequented by white men.
There are some few Indians who make
their abiding-place there, and rumor has it
that there are ruins of ancient dwellings
in the interior, but the place is almost im—

penctrablc, and I have never explored it.

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Kentuck Talbot’s‘ Band. 5

 

 

Ah! Maxwell has paused. What is it
now?"

The guide had halted and was waiting for
his companions to join him. When they
did, he addressed Talbot in a terse. metallic

ay:

“The Rio del Aguila is near at hand, isn’t
it?"

“ Yes," answered the Kentuckian.

“It is a hard river to cross. W'on’t they
be likely to turn south there?"

"Not that I can see. There is a ford dead
ahead, and if they wish to cross, there is
nothing to prevent.”

“That alters the case. We will go on.”

“ Wait,” said Talbot. ,

“ Well?”

“ It occurs to me that they may stop to in-
ter their dead at the river-bank. If they are
anxious to avoid labor, it would be just the
place.” . ‘

“ How far away is it?” asked the major.

“A mile or so,”

. “Then you and Maxwell had better ride
Well ahead and see that we do not run into
an ambush. If you find the Greasers, return
at once to me.”

Maxwell answered quickly and the scouts
rode away at a gallop. Talbot locked from
the red lasso on his eompaniou’s saddle to
his fixed face.

“ This has beer} a sad day,” he kindly said.

“The end is not yet,” the man somberly
replied.

“ I trust we shall be able to avenge our
comrades.”

“I cannot answer for you, but I will have
satisfaction if I follow the assassins to the
Pacific. It was no idle boast I made. This
lasso has a mission to perform, and I will
not rest until the blood of Luke Brastow is
avenged.”

The life—hunter spoke with terrible earn-
estness, but Talbot knew his cause was just
and could not reproach him.

“ You will not be alone in your work,” he
said.

Maxwell fixed a keen gaze upon him.

“ There are those who doubt your loyalty,
Edwin Talbot,” he said, “but I cannot be-
lieve you friendly to those inhuman

, wretches. ”

“ I know I have been suspected,” said the
other, w1th some embarrassment, “ but I
am heart and hand with the Texans. I have

.zlived among the Mexicans, but I have no

love for them."

“ I believe you,” was the terse reply,

They galloped on until, knowing they
were fast nearing the river, Talbot‘advised
greater caution, and’ they rode on at a more
moderate pace. ’

Beside the river, some three-score horses

 

were collected in a group, and just beyond
them as many men were engaged in some
labor which a chance observer might at first
glance have thought a mere agricultural oc-
cupation. ,

The scouts, however, were not deceived;
it was the Mexican band interring their dead -
on the river bank.

Maxwell’s eyes flashed with sudden fire.

“ We have them now,” he said, eagerly,

“ Ride back and hasten on our force.
will remain to watch them."

The Texan hesitated. He remembered
the doubts many men had of Talbot‘s good
faith. If he was of traitorous inclinations, he
could warn and save the Mexicans while the
avengers were coming up.

“My horse is exhausted; you had better
go,” he awkwardly said.

Talbot’s face flushed, for he understood
the silent accusation, but with a simple reply
he wheeled his horse and gallopcd away.

Maxwell backed his horse into the bushes,
where he would not by any mischanee be
seen, and silently watched the marked band".

They numbered at least sixty men, but
there were more horses and he knew the
victims of the cum tragedy had fought well
for their lives. Indeed, there were many
silent bodies by the river bank, but a long
trench had been hollowed and all was ready
for the disposal of the remains.

The face of the lifchunter was terrible in
its expression as he watched them. He had
never been a vindictive man, but all he had
loved had gone from him by the agency of
these men, not in fair battle, but in the
teeth of the mercy a truly brave man shows
his vanquished foe, and it is no wonder the '
blood of Nathan Maxwell burned at fever

itch.

lle lifted the red lasso from his saddle and
looked at it with a strange intentness. The
blood of his dead friend had colored itxcrim<
son, and undoubtedly he was repeating his
vow. >

The sound of hoof-strokes aroused him

and he looked around to see the Texans ad- y

vancing. He motioned them on and they
silently gathered about him.

“ They are there,” he said, pointing to the
r1ver.

“And in our grasp,’ said Major Palmer.
with subdued excitement. “They do not
suspect that we are near, and we will deal
them a deadly blow.” ' . A

“ Let us lose no time,” said Maxwell.

Palmer looked over his hardy band and

a

bade every man prepare for a dash. They. V ‘

answered by looking: to their weapons and a
grim fire of resolution settled on their faces.
Then the major gave the word and they
broke cover and started for the enemy.

  

 

Kontuck Talbot’s Rama.

 

The green sward gave forth no sound of
hoof~strokes, but the distance was short and
the Mexicans could not long remain uncon-
scious. They looked up from their work
and saw the avengers sweeping down upon
them.

In an instant the alarm was sounded and
work suspended. The enemy realized
their danger and made a rush for their
horses, ' but no time was given them for
elaborate preparation. ‘ The Texans had not
far to go, and before half the Greasers were
in the saddle the shock came.

Palmer realized the importance of getting
in the first blow, and, shrewdly calculating
the time. he gave the word to fire just before
the collision came.

Then a terrrible volley swept the close
ranks of the Mexicans, doing fearful execu-
tion, and, before the result could hardly be
seen, the foremost of the Texans were among
their enemies.

What followed could scarcely be called a
fight. The Mexicans were demoralized at
the first and taken at a great disadvantage.
The majority of them were separated from
their horses, and those who had rashness
enough to stand their ground were obliged
to meet on foot a mounted foe in every way
'better prepared for the struggle.

Many of the pan-stricken wretchcs ran
away and others tried to. but the avengers
galloped to and fro, striking with their
sabers wherever they could find one of the
hated enemy.

 

CHAPTER III.
WANTED, A NAME.

IN this unequal fight, there was one man
who raged like a tiger, and who seemed to
unite in himself the destructive powers of a
dozen men. He galloped madly about, and
his saber was wielded until the steel was red
from end to end, and a gory trail marked
the way he had traveled. .

This man was Maxwell, and in his thirst
for vengeance he had done great mischief to
the enemy.

When, at last he could find no more oppo-
nent, he paused and looked at his compan-
iOns W110 had been watching him as people
‘ will watch one they think mad.

. “ The Mexicans are all slain, Nathan,” the
" ma or soothingly said.
he man brushed his hand across his eyes.
He had been temporarily insane durin the
affray, but he how saw only dead Mexrcans
about him.

“ Have none escaped?” he hoarsely de-
mended. '

A ' “ A dozen or more swam the river, ” said
v Edwin Talbot, turning from the scene of
“A V slaughter with a shudder. ‘

 

“Let us pursue,” said Maxwell, hotly.

“ Wait,” ordered the major. “Let me
first see what we have here. Some of these
men still breathe.”

He walked toward a man who had at-
tracted his attention, but the fellow instantly
sprung to his feet and attempted to flee. Un-
luckin for him, he was in the midst of his
enemies, and, before he had taken many
paces, an intercepting foot tripped him and
he was seized before he could arise.

He then drew his dagger, but Jack
Plunkett struck up his arm with a force
thich sent the weapon flying full twenty

eet.

“Go slow, you ’tarnal Greaserl" snapped
the scout' Texan. “I’ll knock your head
ag’in’ your heels of you don’t. Consider
yourself a prisoner 0’ war and be decent.”

The captive, who was a small, very dark
Mexican of middle age, stood still. but the
scowl on his low brow and the unsubdued
flash of his eyes told that he was far from
frightened. He was like a caged panther.

Major Palmer pushed forward to the man’s
side.

“ Senor Mexican,” he blandly said, “you
are our prisoner, and we have the power to
do with you as we choose, but we are merci-
ful men and have no desire to do you vio-
lence. If you will answer the questionsI
shall present to your notice, you shall be
well treated."

“ Are you the father confessor?" asked the
prisoner with an undisguised sneer.

“What do .you mean?” asked Palmer,
curtly.

“My question was plain enough.”

“And so, by Jove, shall my answer be,”
was the Texan's quick retort. “ in this case,
Sir Greaser, I am the father confessor, and
you shall answer what I ask."

“What would you know?”

“ You were one of that gang. Why didn’t
you retreat with what escaped?”

“One of your men struck too heavily,”
and the fellow grimaecd as he rubbed his
hand across his head. ‘

“ Who led your gang?"

“ To what gang do you refer, senor?”

“ To the one which is chiefly represented
there,” retorted Palmer, pointing to the
Mexican dead.

“I do not know, senor."

“You lie, sir! The idea that a soldier
does not know the name of his leader!"

“Pardon. senor, but I am only a new sol-
dier. I know very few of my comrades,
senor.” '

Jack Plunkett interpolated an unbelieving
grunt.

" What is your own name?”

“ Sebastian‘Donatez, senor."

  
  

 

 

 

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’Kentuck Talbot’s Band. 7

 

“That is a liel” interrupted Edwin Tal-
bot. “ He is named Vaseo Mora. I’ve seen
him before.”

The prisoner flashed a threatening glance

at the Kentuckian.
‘ “ Look you, follow!" cried Palmer angrily,
“you are dealing with those who will bear
no subterfuge. Tell me the name of your
leader.” .

“ I know it not," was the sullen reply.

“ You do, and, by my life, you shall tell.
Once more, who is your captain?”

“ Senor, I have said that I knew it not. I
do not lie, and I can say no more.”

“ You can, and shall,” declared the Texan.
“Here, men, who has alasso? We will give
this hound a lesson.”

Some one pushed into the center of the
group, and the men saw Nathan Maxwell
standing with the red lasso in his hand. His
lips were compressed, and as he held out the
fatal coil, he spoke in an intense volee:

“ Here is the article!"

“Good!” said the major, quickly. “It is
fitting that this lasso, which is red with the
blood of Luke Brastow, should bring his
assassins to terms. Convey the dog to yon—
der trees.”

The prisoner was dragged toward the edge
of the forest. I-Ie struggled at first, but the
rough usage of the Texans caused him to de-
sist, and he stood sullcnly under the tree
selected for the purpose.

The lasso was quickly noosed about his
neck, one end was thrown over a limb and
seized by the frowning men, and the wretch
stood on precarious footing.

“Now, Vasco Mora,” cried Palmer, “you
must speak or die. Take your choicel”

“ I protest against this outrage,” and the
Mexican’s eyes flashed with fury.

“ Will I you speak?” implacably asked
Palmer.

Mora uttered two or three Spanish oaths
and then grew more thoughtful and calm.

“ What if I tell all?” he asked.

“In that case, the whole of Mexico is be-
fore you, and free, so far as we are concern-
ed. You can go where you choose, provid-

~ infi‘you tell all about the massacre."

he prisoner was conquered. He had
tried the mettle of his captors, and, knowing
his life was at stake, he decided to save that
article by making a clean breast of every-

’ thing, which he promptly did under Palmer‘s

questioning.
The leader of the Mexicans proved to be a

- noted guerrilla, named Crispe Ribera, and

those who had long known him for his deeds
of rapine along the border. were not at all
surprised to learn that it was upon his head

r that lay the blame of the cam tragedy.

Mora, having been set in motion, talked

 

freely, and in a voice suspiciously tinged
with exultation, told how, when the cam
had been stormed and taken, all the Texans
had been put to death by Ribera’s order, add-
ing that the mistaken idea that there was no
danger of pursuit, had led the Mexicans to
loiter so fatally in their retreat.

CHAPTER IV.
.BROUGII'I‘ T0 BAY.

THE Texans had listened to More’s narra;
tive of the massacre with compressed lips
and scowling faces. It was not enough
that three-fourths of the murderers lay
dead before them; they longed to get
their hands upon the others, to make them
suffer as the Texan martyrs had suffered.

Edwin Talbot stood near Maxwell during -
the recital, and he saw that every limb of the"
stout borderman was shaking. It was in-
deed a tale of horror, and it was a wonder
that the avenger, in his state of mind, could
maintain any degree of calmness. , .

His face worked convulsively, and Talbot
expected to see him spring upon Mora and
throttle him, but the Texan kept the truce
saeredly.

When Major Palmer had heard all, he
made no comment, but, looking at his men,
simply said: .

“Remove the rope.”

Maxwell stepped quickly forward and cast
off the noose; then, holding it before the eyes
of the prisoner, said, while a terrible look
crossed his set face:

“ Mexican, do you see this lasso?”

“Yes,” was the sullen reply.

“The stain you see upon it is the life
blood of one of the victims of the cam fight.
You did your part in that work, Vasco
Mora, and some day I will strangle you with
this same lasso.”

Mora did not answer—he dared not— and
Maxwell, having secured the red lasso, fell
back and left the others to end the work.

“Prisoner,” said Major Palmer, sternly,
“ you have been promised your freedom for
what you have told, and though you richly
deserve death, the promise shall be sacredly
kept. Turn your face toward the east and
begone, but if we ever see you again, you ‘
shall be shot at sight, or hung if caught.
Gol”

Mora was full of venom and brute courage, ,
but he dared not trifle with such men as his
foes. He gladly turned from the camp,
plunged into the bushes, and was gone.

“To the saddle!” ordered Palmer, sharply,
as the wretch disappeared. “Our uarry
went on foot and cannot long eva e us.
Ford the riverl” ‘

There was a rush for the horses, rat-h
Ranger captured one or more of the Mexi-

v

 

  

8

 

cans’ steeds, and then the band plunged into
the river.

“ If we ever get out' ‘of this,” said the
major, looking at the captured horses, “ our
new horseflcsh will not come amiss.”

“ We must get out of it speedily,” answer—
ed Talbot. “ That Mora is full of mischief,
and in a few hours he will have two hundred
guerrillas on our trail.”

Nelson looked at him sharply. He re-

; membered that the Kentuckian had secretly
whispered to More. and to his SUSplClOuS

mind it looked as though the whisper may
have meant volumes.

The river was soon forded, and, the way
being favorable, they struck the trail of the
escaped Mexicans and followed at a sharp
pace. If the fugitives kept together, as they
had started, they would soon be run down if
no new foe appeared to oppose the avengers.

Maxwell rode near the van, as usual, his
face strangely white, his lips compressed,
and upon his saddle-pummel still hung the
red lasso.

The way was sulflciently open for the
horsemen to proceed at a (gallop, and only
that they were incumbere by the extra
horses, very good progress would have been
made. Maxwell suggested that a dozen men
he left in charge of the animals, but Palmer
would not hear to dividing his small force.

“ What is ahead of us now?" he asked of
Talbot. '

“A series of haeiendas, and, I suspect
from the course of the‘fugitives, they are
making for one of them. They know, of
course, that they will be pursued, and it be—

. hooves them to gain friends and cover.”

“ If they get inside a cam, our work will
not be easy,” said the major, thoughtfully.

“Very true, for they number a dozen, and
they will rally the peons about them,” de-
clared the Kentuckian.

“ I hate to go back unsuccessful."

“We must not,” interrupted Maxwell,
sharply. “How can you harbor such a
thou ht until our dead-are avenged, sir?”

“ on wrong me,” protested the officer,
kindly. “I am as eager for vengeance as
any here, but I must not sacrifice this de-
voted band.”

“As for me, I Will never rest until this
lasso has been wound about the neck of
Crispo Ribera. I have sworn itl"

Palmer looked significantly at Talbot and
touched his forehead, but at that moment
the band swept into an open field and the
conversation ceased as they ‘saw a broad
hacienda with the usual style of Mexican
house, or case, in the center.

At the further side of the field, cattle and
horses were seen grazing, but no human
being was visible. ' _

\

 

Kentuck Talbot's Band.

" Our quarry is there,” said Talbot, point-
ing to the house. “ They have found friends,
and, even in so short 9. time, the peons have
been called in and the cam put in order for de-
fense.”

Palmer looked thoughtfully at the dwell-
ing. He was notaboastful man, and, though
he purposed hurling his men upon the place
in a determined assault, its stout appearance
made him rather uncertain as to the result.

He gazed so long that Maxwell grew im-
patient.

“Time is precious, major," said the aven-
ger.

“ We will ride to the gate and see whovis
Within,” said the officer, arousing. “ Follow
me.”

They crossed the field at a smart trot and
rode unopposed to the gate. N 0 sign had
yet been seen of human beings, but a sharp
pounding at the'portal soon brought an an-
swer.

It came from above, and, looking upward,
the saw a man standing on the top of the
wall. He was a,Mexican, and his appear-
ance was somewhat impressive. He was
plainly of noble blood, and his rich dress,
proud bearing and long, white hair gave him
a marked appearance.

“ What means this pounding?” he curtly
demanded on meeting Palmer’s gaze.

“Pardon our impatience, senor,” explain-
ed the Texan, politely, “ but we are in
haste. We have not come as your enemies,
but for information. We are seeking men
who we fear have taken refuge here, and I
wish to know if you have seen them.”

“To Whom do you refer?” was the terse
question.

” To the guerrilla, Ribera, and his men."

“ Captain Crispo Ribera is within this
case,” the hidalgo calm] answered.

“ Not of your free wi l, I trust, senor.”

“ And why not?”

“ Because he is not one whom you should
shelter."

“And why should I not shelter a soldier
of Mexico?”

“You should be justified in doing this,
but Ribera is not a soldier. He is an ex-
outlaw, a guerrilla and a murderer. His
own crimes have brought us to his heels.
and he is deserving of no mercy.“ '

“Is this why you set upon him like cow-
ards when he was burying his dead, instead
of attacking like a soldier and a man?” was
the sarcastic retort. ‘

“ Crispo Ribera must expect an eye for an

eye and a tooth for a tooth. Ask him how
died the Texans in the lone case! Brave
men do not hang their prisoners ! " _ ‘ .

“The were Tekans, and all Texans are
dogs,” eclared the haciendero.

 

 

 

  
  

g: I
r‘
d
73
7.

(3194“;

Kentuck Talbot’s Band.

 

  

9

 

An angry murmer went up from the

' Rangers and there was an ominous clicking

of rifle hammers, but a word from Palmer
stayed the hands of his men.

The aged Mexican smiled coldly.

“Senor,” said the major, earnestly, “let
us talk like men. Ribera has baser mur-
dered our comrades and we seek for ven-
geance. Surely, you will not shelter the ex-
outlaw from our hands?”

“He is a soldier of Mexico and I shall
shelter him,” was the steady reply.

“Then, by m life, we will tear down
every stone of this house!" hotly cried the
major.

“Begin at once,” was the unmoved an-
swer.

“ Where is Ribera? Let me speak to
him?”

“I am spokesman here. Captain Ribera

‘ hears every word you say, but you must talk

to me I”
“ Is he afraid to show his worthless head?”
“ Speak not of the lion until he is dead. I
tell you I am master of this cram, and I am
Don Eduardo del Rio y Savannah.”

 

CHAPTER V.
THE ATTACK.

Pannsrs the haciendero expected his im-
posing name‘ to strike a chill to the hearts of
the Texans, but they were made of stern ma-
terial. Palmer was only calculariug how he
could best‘get at the guerrillas. If he could
have secured them, he would have gone
away from the cam without lifting a finger
against the old den or his property, but
trouble seemed inevitable.

“ Senor,” he continued, after a pause, “ do
you fully understand the circumstances of
this case?”

“ Captain Ribera has told me all."

“ And you refuse to surrender him?"

“ Yes, senor.”

“ In that case our quarrel becomes against
you all, outlaw, man and master.”

“ I am listening, senor.”

“Are you blind to the fact that two-score
soldiers are at my back?"

“I care nothing for them. Fifteen soldiers
and fifty peons are inside my gates, all well
armed. On equal terms we could whip you
easily, and, with the stout walls about us,
we laugh at your rage.”

Palmer was somewhat staggered, but he
was not one to yield tamely. He knew it
would be hard to storm the case with such a
force within, but it must be done or Ribera

would escape their vengeance.

“Think once more, Don Eduardo. We
have not come as your enemies, and we
mean you no harm, but we must capture the

 

guerrillas. Think what harm we can do
you if you if you force us to be destructive.”

He pointed to the horses and cattle grazing
on the surrounding fields, and Edwin Talbot
thought he saw a shade of annoyance cross
the old man’s face, but the answer came
promptly enough:

“ A patriot never counts his herds.”

“ There is no patriotism in sheltering a
ruflian like Ribera," Palmer said, in disgust.

“ Well, senor, if your business with me is
done, I will retire,” said the hacieudero.

“It is only begun, but if you are resolved
to play the fool, you can go where he choose.
I give you one more chance to surrender the
outlaws, and if you refuse, every stick and
stone of this infernal ranch shall come
down I”

“Begin when you see fit. Adios, senors.

And with this bland farewell, Don Eduarv
do del Rio y Savannah disappeared from

9’1

view.

The Te‘xans looked disappointedly at each
other, and then Jack Plunkett uttered a
snifi of disapproval.

“I don‘t like our quarters, ma'or. Them
p’ison creeturs kin do us a deal 0’ harm of
we stay hyer an’ they see fit. A deluge o’
b'ilin’ water, fur instance. would hit us

lum-center, an’ I don’t hanker ter become a

obster.”

“You are right, and we will fall back a
little. Watch the walls, boys, and if you
see a rifle with a head above it, et in the
first shot for the glory of the Lone tar.” .

The Rangers retreated a hundred yards, .‘ i
and Palmer gathered his best men about him
for consultation. How to get into the dwell-
ing became the uestion, but ways and
means seemed lacking. The ate could not «
be beaten down, nor the we] 8 sealed with-.
out ladders, and Don Eduardo seemed well
jusiified in making his boast.

What could be done? Time with them
was precious, for they were in the enemies’ _ _
country and a superior force might at any
time arrive. What was to be done must be
done quickly.

Maxwell stood and gnawed his lips until
the blood seemed on the point of bursting
through. His hated foe was Within afew
rods of him, but for the time he was safell
from his vengeance, and the knowledge was .
maddening. ‘

“ What shall we do?"

Palmer asked the uestion, lookin at'Tal— ,
hot and the owner 0 the red lasso, ut they g
did not answer promptly.

“We cannot delay,”continued the leader.
“ If we give them time to gain aid, they are
saved and we may be annihilated.” ,
“Charge on the case I” said Maxwell, »
hotly. r

‘-

._~_W~ A New -

 

  

 

 

  

10

 

Kentuck Talbot’s Band. '

 

“We have been under its walls, but we
saw no way to get further,” was Palmer’s re-
minder.

Edwin Talbot looked thoughtfully at the
live stock of the haciendero.

“ Can we gain a point by using them?” he

i asked. “Don Eduardo was touched when

you spoke of them; he is not enough of a
Roman, despite his boast, to lose all selfish-
ness.” .

“How can we use them?”

“Drive every horse and horned creature
near to the cam, and then slaughter them
one by one until the gates are opened and
Ribera surrendere< .”

This project created a ripple among the
Texans, and Talbot’s doubters were some

‘ what staggered. The proposition was not

one a traitor would naturally advance.

“Would it work?" questioned Palmer,
half to himself.

Maxwell uttered an impatient exclama-
tion.

“Before it could be done, half of Mexico
would be howling at our heels. Our only
hope is to storm the place,” he declared.

“ What is your plan for‘ getting inside?"
asked the Kentuckian quickly.

Maxwell hesitated, for he had no feasible

lan.

_ p “If we only had ladders,” said Palmer,

slow‘lly.

“ e kin get over that snag," averred
Jack Plunkett. “Thar is plenty o’ scrub-
trees in the woods, an’ with the limbs prep—
erly cut, it would be a poor ereetur that
couldn’t scale the wall. They would be nigh
about as good as ladders.”

“ Bravo!" responded Palmer; “ Why didn't
we think of it before? Take a dozen men,
Jack, and go for the scrubs.”

The detachment galloped toward the trees,
but the major saw bya glance at Talbot’s
face that he did not regard the plan very
favorably. He was asked why he doubted.

“It may succeed,” admitted the Ken-
tuckian, “but I am free to confess I fear a
failure. There is, of course, a strong force
of peons' inside, besides the guerrillas—Don
Eduardo put the combined force at. sixty-
iive—and the will use every eilort to repel
us. They wil haul down our ladders, and,
the moment our heads appear above the wall,
the will become the target for bullet, or
clu ,aecording as our enemies are armed."

"Of course.” admitted Maxwell, impa-
tiently, “but I trust we have no cowards

here. We have dared too many dangers to
turn Pale at this one.”

To. bot reddened at this imputation of cow-

: - ice,,but the major did not give him a
e (be to answer. a

«it will be a. hardfight, undoubtedly, but

.. k V

 

it looks to me like a choice between that and ‘

sentiment of our band?”

“Storm the house if it takes a score of
men!” cried Nelson, and nearly all the
Rangers added their voices to the cry.

Palmer looked pleased, but the suspicious
eyes of the last speaker had seen that the
Kcntuckiau remained silent, and, to him, it
seemed proof of worse than timidity.

“ Why do you oppose the plan, Mister Tal-
bot?" he pointedly asked.

"' I do not oppose it,” said the other, calmly.
“I merely said i feared it would not succeed.
I make no further objection, and, since it is
to be, you will not find me backward in the
business.”

“ Of course not," added Palmer, hastily.

At this moment Jack and his companions
were seen returning With the substitutelad—
ders. They had cut down seragcly trees
and lopped off the branches in a suitable way.
and many of the Rangers were inclined to
think this aid would take them straight into
the ram ; though the more thoughtful could
not but see the undertaking would be a
doubtful one.

As the band moved once more toward the
house there was no Sign of the defenders,
but there could be no doubt but that they
were watched.

They reached the wall unchallenged, and
then with a quick rush surrounded the place.
lifted the “ ladders ” against it, and Palmer‘s
voice sounded the signal for the assault.

Every man was ready, and the Texans
darted upwith cat—like agility.

the abandoning of our work. What is the

CHAPTER VI.
THE RESULT.

THE impromptu ladders had been well
placed, and the Rangers went successfully
up until their heads reached the top of the
wall. Then, as they had expected, trouble
began.

Likcaflash the wall became lined with
human beings, and it was soon proved that
they werenot friends. A dozen or more
carbines were fired with deadly effect—the
work of the guerrillas—but the greater part
of the defenders were poems, and they had
been armed with clubs, hatchets, etc.

The Texans were taken at a decided dis-
advantage. They stood on a precarious foot-
ing, and where they could make little re-
sistance, while the besieged had every ad-
vantage. In some cases they seized the
saplings and hurled them to the earth, while
in others their clubs descended with terri-
ble force on the heads and arms of the Ben-
ers.

g Ordinary men wouldhhave turned and fled

 

 

i

 

 

    

. - . . A . mm. ..
<. 3:.- a. 3%,; t. t, Amanda“, .Mt.,-... . .jm-Jw.fl«£h mst )

 

Kentuck Talbot': Band. i

x

11

 

at once before such a reception, but the
Texans were made of sterner stutf. They
had come to conquer, and like tigers they
endeavored to gain the wall.

Every one in the devoted band was a hard
fighter. We might single out men like Max-
well, Plunkett and Palmer and say they
fought well, but they did no more than the
rest. All were resolved to pass the‘ barrier;
and, when men fell with the falling saplings,
it was only to rush again to the attack.

Edwin Talbot, however, had said well
when he expressed the opinion that the plan
would not work; for, gallantly as the Rang-
ers tried, they found the resistance more
than they could subdue. I

Some of them had fallen dead or stunned
to the ground below, and few remained who
had not received a blow on the head or arm
of .‘ suggestive force. Plainly the assault
would not suCCeed.

Major Palmer saw that the battle was
going against his command, and that they
were losing men without doing the enemy
any damage, so he sounded the word for re-
treat. ,

They went slowly and systematically, for
there was no chance that the Mexicans
would make a sally. This would have
pleased the Rangers well, but the gates were
not opened.

Every one of the fallen men were borne
away, and a later examination showed four
men killed, two with broken arms, and at
least a dozen with scalp wounds of more or
less severity. »

“This is a bad business,” said Palmer,
sadly.

I " Why did you order us back?” asked
Maxwell, hotly.

“Because it was madness to continue the
assault,” answered the major, unheeding the
want of respect shown his office. -

" I would rather have died there than to
retreat.”

"‘ Would it have avenged our comrades if
you “had died?” was the calm answer.

“ We would have gone over that wall
sooner or later,” persisted the avenger.

“ It couldn’t llev b’cn did,” said Jack Plun-
kctt. “ an’ the major was right in leavin’.”

“The end is not yet,” said Palmer. “In
an hour it will be dark, and a second attempt
may succeed better than this.”

“.New ideas would come in handy now,”
added Jack.

“Were all of our boys saved ?" asked the
major. “ Count our force.”

This was easily done, but an investigation
showed one, an missing. Perhaps he had
been left ungr the wall.

“No,” said Nelson quickly, “there was
nobody left. Perhaps the name of the ab-

 

sent man may give some of you an idea.

Where is Mister Edwin Talbot?”

Those who heard the question looked
about for the Kentuckian, but he was not to
be seen.

“ There is no use of looking,” said Nelson,
“ for he ain’t here. He is gone, and I’ll bet
my rifle he is inside the mm.”

“ Ef he is,” said another man, “ he has
deserted.” '

“ You have hit the case plum’teenter,” de-
clared Nelson. “Talbot has gone to those
he loves best. Of course it was very easy

for him to crawl over the wall in the melee, ,

when he had friends inside, and that is just
what he has done.”

“I don't believe it," said Jack Plunkett.
" Ef he is ins1de, he is a prisoner.”

“There is a chance for a difference of
opinion."

“Go slow," advised the veteran. “We

all know you hated him, Nelson, but I am »
his friend, an’ the man who says Ed Talbot -

is a traitor, until it is proved, has got tor
fight me.” ‘ ’

The bold speech of. the bordermen could

not be misinterpreted, but Nelson, brave as

he was, did not care to quarrel with the ‘

hardest fighter in the band.

Luckily, the major came to the rescue and
calmed the disputants. He had regarded
Edwin as a true man, and though appear-
ances were decidedly against him he would
regard him, as such until he was proven
guilty.

In any case, there must be no quarreling -

among the men of the band.

Palmer proceeded to reduce the matter to
a system. Guards were stationed at in-
tervals along the edge of the hacienda to
watch for the coming of possible reinforce”-

ments-for the Mexicans, and the other men . ~' '

collected and proceeded to discuss ways and
means of carrying out their purpose.

The shades of night were already falling;

and after dark their movements would be
concealed from the besieged, but victory
was still likely to evade their grasp. »

Maxwelt stood apart from the others and

leaned upon his rifle with a thoughtful look ‘

on his stern face. In all his wild life he had
never been so anxious to accomplish a pur-
pose and his fertile brain was busy.

During the lull in the battle, events of in-
terest Were transpiring inside the cam, and
to that place we will conduct the reader.

When N clson charged Edwin Talbot with ”

treachery he did him a wrong, for it was the

Kentuckian’s zeal Which placed him in his -

present misfortune. . I

At one time in the assault, when he was
fighting with remarkable energy, he saw an
open space in the line of his enemies and

 

    
 

l
1
.~

“In? “MM-4....

 

  

 

  

 

12

Kentuck Talbot’l Band.

 
 

 

  

sufipeeded in mounting to the top of the
we .

If he could have held the place for a mo-
ment it would have opened a clear road for
the Texans, but, just as he struck down a
guerrilla, a stout peon seized him by the leg,
and after a brief stru gle, both fell ofl? the
wall together and lan ed on the stone flag-
ging of the court.

The fall was a hard one, and only that the
peon struck undermost, Talbot’s career
might have ended there and there, and, as it
was, he was stunned for a few moments.

When he regained consciousness several
men were standing around him, one of whom
was easily recognizable as Don Eduardo.
while the second wore the dress of a Mexi-

,, can officer, and was undoubtedly the noted

Crispo Ribera.

" He still lives,” said the haciendero,
harshly. “Dash another bucket of water
upon him and he will be all right.”

“IIoldl” cried the Kentuckian, quickly.
"There is no reason why you should drown
me. I am well enough.”

He arose to a sitting position, and, as he
saw the fighting along the wall, knew his
comrades were still waging their useless
fight

There was little about the court or case
different from the average Mexican dwelling,
and he fixed his regard upon Captain Ribera.

The noted guerrilla was not a remarkable-
looking man. He had a muscular form and
a face expressive of courage, but he was not
a man to admire. He had been a vagabond
and brigand all his life until his country

pardoned him on condition that he would
fight against the invader, and he looked more
‘ like a prizeffighter than a soldier.

“ Well,” said Don Eduardo, sarcastically,

“ do you comprise the force with which the
-, Texans propose to subdue us?"

"I seem to be the only representative
here,” the Kentuckian replied, rather lugu-
hriously. .

“ You are all that will come here."

Talbot did not answer.

“ They still fight,” said the haciendero,
looking upward. “We may he wanted
elsewnere, captain. What shall we do with
our prisoner?” , ‘ _,

Ribera shrugged his shoulders.

"Dead men tell no tales,” he coldly an-
BWered.

CHAPTER VII.
’ CAPTIVITY.

THE manner of the guerrilla was not cal-
culated to please the prisoner, but Don Ed-
uardo seemed not to have heard the reply.
“ He turned a thoughtful gaze from Talbot to
 , the outlaw. ' * '

 

” Captain,” he said, “we may have a fu-
ture use for this fellow."
“How so?"

by, we may be able to sa to the Texans:
‘ Do this, or refrain from oing that, or your
comrade dies.’ ”

“Very improbable,” said Ribera.

" Still, it may happen, and it is well to be
prepared for an emergency.”

left to me, I would kill him at once.”

“I know your merciless way already,”
said the Kentuckian, looking sternly at the
outlaw.

“You may see more of it anon," retorted
Ribera.

The haciendero called four of his peons
and gave them some directions which were
not audible to our hero, and then he and
ltibera turned again to the wall.

The peons lifted Talbot to his feet and
conducted him across the court. He knew
the folly of resistance and went with them
without a word.

They crossed the court and entered the
case proper, where the prisoner was at once
conducted to a room which had little likeness
to a dungeon, but that it was to be his prison
was soon proved.

One of the peons went away, and the
others proceeded to ,hind his hands with a

the uselessness of a remonstrance, but a
faint smile hovered for a moment on his face
at what he thought the extreme caution of
the slaves.

Their motive was soon explained, how-,
ever.

The absent peon returned, and with him
came three ladies, or, perhaps we might bet-
ter say, two ladies and one female peon.

He looked carefully at the trio. The peon
woman was of middle age and as strong as a
man, while in her coarse face there was lit—
tle to give birth to hope.

The first of the two ladies was one who

Eduardo. She had passed her prime, and
her thin face had a sour, vixenish look, if
Talbot read aright. '

The second was young.r and handsome, but
she retreated so quickly to the cover of a
heavy window-curtain, that he could tell no
more. '

The Kentuckian was still standing, but

curtly in her native tongue.
“ Do you speak Spanish?”
“ Yes, senorita," he promptly answered.
” Very well. You wi 1 take yonder seat."
She pointed to a chair at the second win-

 

dow, and he promptly accepted it.

“ We will hold him prisoner, and, by and

“ Have our own wa , senor, but if it was
3’

stout cord. He made no complaint, knowing I

might have been the wife or sister of Don ’

the elderly lady advanced at once and spoke '

    
 

  

  
 
 

l
v
x
2
l
i

“an, r, , , ,
ww._l_._n.w_.as:m: .i

Kentuck Talbot’s Band. I ‘ 18

 

“ Thanks, sendrita,” he then said. “ I
have a fancy for comfort, and it is very kind

in on.

“My brother, Don Eduardo del Rio y
Savannah, has so ordered,” she replied,
coldly.

“,It makes my captivity almost a pleas-
ure, ’

She 'did not answer, and Talbot looked
still more critically at his companions. There
was little of mercy in the elder woman’s
face, while the peon, sitting bolt upright in
her chair, looked as formidable as a man.

He glanced toward the second window,
but there was nothing to be seen except a
fine form, a profusion of ebon hair and a.
white hand holding the curtain. Still, the
Kentuckian was sure she was a beauty, and
he believed her to be the daughter of the
haciendero.

Remembering that his friends were fight—
ing outside, or had been. he listened, but no
sounds of strife Were to be heard, and he
correctly judged that the Texans had been
driven away.

How severely they had been defeated he
had no means of knowing, but he hoped for
the best, and began to calculate the chances
of another attack, He knew they would not
give up tamely, and, unless reinforcements
came for the Mexicans, they would un~
doubtedly show their teeth again before

- morning.

He was not foolish enough to appeal to his
jailers. The elderly lady’s face was one
which indicated a cold, unsympathetic na-

, ture, and as he was an invader, she undoubt-

edly cherished about the same feelings for
gim as had been expressed by Captain Ri-
era.

An hour passed and night had settled over
the hacienda. Talbot parted the window-
curtains, but could see only darkness, and
not a sound was audible. Once or twice he
had tried to converse with his chief jailer, as
be regarded Don Eduardo’s sister, but her
curt replies soon ended conversation, and he
almost wished for something to break the
monotony of the hour.

Something came at last in the shape of the
haciendero, who walked firmly in, made a
quick survey of the room and then walked
toward Talbot'and his watcher.

“ Is all well, Sister Costenza?" he asked.

“ All is well, brother,” was the grave
reply.
“ trust you have not found your cap-
tivity painful, senor,” continued the hacien—
dero, looking at Edwin.

“ Quite the contrary, Don Eduardo,” an-
swered the Kentuckian, who could see no
sense in sulking. ,

“We might have made it far worse, for

 

 

there are dungeons under the case, but Mexi-
cans are humane.”

Talbot bowed low. He remembered the
old don’s advice that he be saved as a
hostage against a time of possible danger,
and correctly judged why he was so easily
used, but he answered in the old vein:

“ A million thanks, senor,” he said.

“I suppose you are anxious to know the
end of the assault?"

“ I suppose the Texans werebeaten ‘2"

“ Thev were, and with severe loss. We
did not lose a man. They are still hovering
near the house, but I do not anticipate an-
other attack.”

Talbot remained silent.

“They are courting destruction by remain-
ing here,” added the haciendero.

“It is the life of a soldier.”

“If they should succeed in storming the
case, what would they do here?” asked Don
Eduardo, looking keenly at the prisoner.

"lf Ribera and his men had been surren-
dered at the beginning. not a stick or stone
of your cam would have been damaged.”

“And what now ‘2”

“Very likely, senor, their work would be
gauged by the lives their conquest cost
them."

“'In other words, it is probable they would
seek revenge on me?”

_ “ Such is the way of men, but their leader
lS merciful. One thing is sure, whatever -

happens, your women and children are safe.
Texans do not war on them.”

Del Rio remained silent for some time,’

evidently in deep thought, but there was
nothing to indicate that he repented his
course or wished to change it.

" At any rate, there is little to fear frdm '

them,” he at length said.
“I would advise you, in the name of

mercy, to treat once more with them before V

it is too late. Don Eduardo. If you will re—
lease me and expel the guerrillas from your
walls, I promise you the Texans will at once
go their way and leave you unmolested.”

“ Cit/rumba! You must think me a pol-
troon, Senor. , You misjudge me. I am a
Mexican, and, by the virgin, Captain Ribera
shall never suffer while my Walls remain
secure.” V

“ Have your own way," said Talbot, curt] y.

Don Eduardo looked at him fixedly for
some time, and then he turned to Costenza
and asked her to step outside the room.

The lady arose, and with a word of warn-
ing to the peon woman, followed the hacien-
dero beyond the Kentuckians sight. =

CHAfiEVIH.
A STRANGE MEETING.

TALBOT saw the brother and sister depart "

n
./

  

- the woman’s neck, and

 

l4 Kentuck Talbot’s Band.

 

without great interest.
might concern him, but, as there was no
evidence that Don Eduardo was Wavering,
he saw no ground for hope.

The pcon woman, who maintained her
stiff position, was not an agreeable object to
. look at, and the Kentuckian glanced curious-
ly at the silent figure in the corner of the
curtains.

The latter had not moved while the hacien-
dero was present, and, so far as Talbot
knew, she might be both deaf and dumb.

Suddenly, however, he was surprised to
see her turn abruptly, brush aside the cur-
gains and advance toward the second win-

ow.

A fitful lamp burned on a sidetable, giv-
ingascanty light, but even then the pris-

oner could see that besides the gift of youth, V

ghe possessed a fine form and handsome
ace.

There was something in the face, more-
over, which seemed familiar, but handsome
young women are common among Spaniards
and the pure-blooded descendants.

Everything else, however, was lost to sight
' when he saw her swiftly advance to the pcon

Woman and lay both hands upon her shoul-
ders. The movement was accompanied by
an eager look of features, though intermixed
with one of resolution, and then the girl
spoke in a melodious voice.

"Brigida, you, will not interfere?" she
softly said.

The woman looked at her, stoicism upper-
most on her coarse face, but Edwin thought
he saw a shadow of anxiety behind it.

“ Senorita Berta, what would you do?”
I the peon asked.

“Never mind, Brigida, quarida, but you
will not interfere? Promise your Berta.”

u The fair creature clasped her arms around
‘ she perceptibly
wavered.

“ Your father may arrive, child,” she ex-
postulated. »

“If it is so, so be it.
Brigida, but be wise.”

Then the senorita turned to Talbot, who
was watching in silent wonder.

” Don Edwin,” she hurriedly said, “ have
you forgotten me?"

The Kentuckian started. Somewhere in
the past he had seen her face, but——

“Ha!” he cried. “ I do rememberl I have
not forgotten the .carriage accident on the
mountain; I have not forgotten you, senori‘
ta. ’

, g He extended his hands, bound as they
were; clasped her own and pressed them to
1, his lips.

“‘You saved my life then, when the

: frightened steeds Would have dashed me

Say nothing,

Their consultation '

 

ovar the cliif but for our aid,” she quickly
continued, “ and a DeiiRio never forgets. I
asked you then to come to my father’s haci-
enda. If you had done so, my father would
have been your friend instead of your
enemy today. Now, it is too late to change
his course, but a daughter of my race was
never ungrateful. You saved my life, Don
Edwin, and, by the help of the Virgin, I
will now save yours.”

Her impetuosity was proof of her sincer-
ity, but Talbot remembered the risk she
would incur and began to rcmonstrate,

“ Not sword, American,” she interrupted.
“Brigida, listen at the door and tell me
when they return."

The grim old woman glided to the door
and the maiden again spoke hurriedly:

“I say you shall be saved, but I cannot
now tell the hour or the way. I have no
one to aid me excepting my nurse, Brigida.
Aunt Costcnza would betray me if she knew
I had spoken to you, and ruin all. but
Brigida is true. Can you tell me how to
get you free?”

“Cut to bonds and I can escape,” said
the Kentnc ian. “ But you forget yourself.
You— —”

“The court is full of pcons and soldiers.
The moment you dropped from the Window
you Would be seen and again secured."

“ I could fight my way through,” began
the Ranger; but Berta shook her head.

" Impossible!" shc expostulated.
you go, it must be by stealth. I must have
time to think ot away. Do not despair Don
Edwin, for I will save you.”

” You will ruin yourself in trying,”

“ Ha! ha! Trust for once to a woman’s
wits, Pen Edwin. I repeat, I will save

ou—-’ .

“ 0(L7'1tmba./ they are returning, senorital”

cried the peon, quickly.

The words had scarcely passed her lips’

when Berta was back in her old place by the
window, half concealed by the heavy curs
tains.

The door opened, and Costenza entered.
Seemingly the scene had not changed‘ since
she went away. Each one of the trio was
seated as before, and after a cold, roving
glance, the austere lady returned to her
former position, and Talbot breathed freer
as he saw she suspected nothing.

Cool as he was, he felt his pulse beating
quicker than usual, for the moment had been
a critical one; if the suspicious of Costenza
had been aroused, trouble would have come
to more than him.

He kept his seat and looked steadly at va-
cancv, but his thoughts were bow. tie
meeting with Berta had been w‘mll ~ :-*1r“{-
pected. A year before, while rovingr among

“When '

 

Kentuck Talbot’s Band. 15

the mountains, he had saved her from a
peril brought about by a pair of fiery horses
and an incompetent driver, but, though
somewhat impressed by her fair face, he had
declined her invitation to vistt her father’s
home, and only remembered her Christian
name—Berta.

Now he was surprised at meeting her, but

if he had been a more selfish man he would
have been pleased at the hope of aid from her
hands. Talbot, however, was not one to look
wholly to himself, and hi; feared that if the
girl attempted to release him she would
bring ruin upon herself.
‘ While he was thus thinking, Donna Berta
was equally busy. She had the ardent na-
ture common to Spanish women, and a far
truer and more grateful heart, and in some
way she was resolved to rescue the gallant
American. ,
‘ Ever since the mountain adventure, his
memory had lingered in her thoughts; she
had cherished him as a knight of chivalry;
and her feelings were such as would have
surprised the cool-headed K entuckian, could
he have known them.

Product of the North that he was, love
was with him a plant of slow growth, while to
this child of the South it was the offspring
of a day or an hour. '

Talbot could hear the defenders in the
court outside, and he knew they were watch-
"ing for another attack, but he could not see
how the Texans were to succeed, and he was
not particularly hopeful.

Worse still, the chances were that if they
continued near the eras/1v, a second and super.
ior force of Mexicans would soon appear,
and their coming meant serious trouble if
not ruin to th devoted band.

Talbot was of a philosophical nature, and
though he did not relish his situation, he
almost hoped the Rangers would beat a re-
treat. They had already done much to
avenge the massacre, and the horses secured
made valuable spoil, and prudence demanded
an instant departure.

He thought of Maxwell, however, and felt
sure that he would not abandon his trail of
vengeance until the red lasso had performed
its mission. Certainly, Crispo Ribera would
not be safe while he lived.

While he was reflecting thus, Donna Berta
slowly arose and glided toward her aunt.
She Whispered a few words in the austere
lady’s ears, and then left the apartment,
while the elder senorita kept her place, and
Brigida looked impassive as ever.

Talbot, however, could but think the act
had a meaning. Perhaps he was foolishly full
of notions, but he was one to observe and
draw, conclusions.

_ Ten minutes passed and the maiden return-

ed. She bore in her hands a silver waiter
upon which were three glasses, each of which
was filled with some liquid which might
have been wine.

She handed one to Costenza, a second to
the peon woman, and with the third she
then retreated to the cover of the curtains;
but the Ranger noticed that she had changed
her position so that she could watch all in
the apartment.

This done, the three women began to slow-
ly sip the cherry—lined liquid.

 

CHAPTER IX.
THE WORK on THE WINE

under ordinary circumstances, have been
worthy of second thought, but, somehow,
Talbot felt that the air was full of great
events,~and he was strangely nervous.

The women drank their wine, if wine it
was, slowly, and he closely watched.

Costenza remained calm andsevere of
countenance, but he noticed that the eyes of

they expressed a good deal.

He had at first thought the poem woman
hideous and heartless, but her masculine face
seemed far softer and kindlier than before.
It was evident that she was devoted to Berta
above all other human beings. ‘

The wine was finished and Brigida set the
empty glasses on the waiter, and placed the
whole on the table.

For the time, all sounds Outside had ceased
and the silence was oppressive. -

Costenza seemed to sleep.

Berta arose and glided to the spinistcr’s
side. She spoke her name and touched her

nor movement.

tuckian. '
“ Don Edwm,” she softly said, “you are
on the road to freedom.

must be conveyed to her apartment, and
then you must assume the dress of a pccn.
enter the court and watch your chance to
pass the wall.”

“ But you, senorita, what of you?”

“I do not understand, Don Edwin.”

“They will punish, perhaps kill you, for
aiding;r me to escape.”

“Whatever occurs, I am satisfied,” she
answered.

Her gaze was turned away from him, but
her tone and her manner revealed volumes.

 

WHAT had thus far occurred would not,

Brigida frequently wandered to Berta, and ,

Costeuza awned, crossed her hands over
her rich rcss and looked severely at
vacancy. ‘

on the arm, but there was neither answer 7

. Then Berta glided to the side of the iKen- -

“ There is no time to lose. Aunt Costenza'

I:

Temps.“ ..

sum/aztfih} .,=.~ '

4 Jamar.

 

 

   
 

      

16

  

Kentuck Talbot’s Band.

 

The hot blood rushed to Talbot’s face as he
realized that this glorious creature loved
him.

His feelin s at that moment cannot be
described. ladness, sorrow, surprise, con-
fusion—all assailed him and he remained
dumb.

Brigida glided to their side and spoke in a
troubled voice:

“What is done must be done quickly.
There is danger in delay,” she announced.

Even at that moment a shuffling step was
heard outside and a look of alarm crossed
the slave's face.

“Santa Maria! Some one comes!” she
exclaimed. .

The emergency cleared the wits of the
Kentuckian. He raised the chair of the
sleeping woman, carried it with its burden
to the recess of the window and drew the
curtains around it.

The movement concealed the spinister
from view.

” Back to your chair!” Berta cried to the
ranger.

A rap sounded at the door.

Talbot strode to his chair, drew the sev-
ered bonds about his wrists and sunk into
his old position.

Berta swept her hand across her face, and
then, as she opened the door was as calm as
ever.

Captain Ribera stood in the assage, and
those inside the room breathed reer as they
saw he was alone. Don Eduardo’s presence,
just then, would have meant ruin, but the
I guerrilla might possibly be outwitted.

He stood in silence, his gaze roving around
the room. but as Talbot marked the flush
upon his face and a swaying of his powerful
form, he was not slow in accounting for
these facts.

The guerrilla was artially intoxicated.

“ What is wante ‘2” Berta asked, with
surprising calmness. .

“Nothing in particular,” replied Ribera,
summoning all his wits to talk straightly.
“I was passing and thought I would drop
in.”
He entered the room and looked dully at
Talbot.

“ The Texan is still here,” he added.

“ Where else should he be?” Berta terser
asked.

. “ here‘s the old woman—I mean, where
is Senorita Costenza?” ,

" My aunt is in her apartment,” was the
icy reply. p

' “So you are all alone with the terrible

' I’fiexan? I’ll sit’ down and help you watch

m.’

The ex-outlaw, who had for years made
~ his bed in the caves of the mountains and the

 

thickets of the Chaparral, settled himself into
an easy-chair with a sigh of relief.

Talbot was annoyed and tempted to hurl
himself upon the drunken wretch, but Berta
surve ed the scene calmly

“ ou look fatigued, captain," she said.
” I will order refreshments.”

“Pardon, senorita,” said Ribera, quickly,
“ but I do not care for anything. I am
very, well as I am, and wine don’t agree with

“ A glass or two, with a bit of cake, will
refresh you, captain,” was the unmoved re-
pl . “Brigida, brin some of our best. I
Will drink with you, aptain Ribera, and you
ought to taste our wine.”

CHAPTER X.
V I N '1‘ II E 'r o I L s .
BRIGIDA promptly departed, while Ribera

 

stroked his beard in a mixture of compla—'

cency and anxiety. He knew he ought not
to drink more, but had not the Senorita Berta
asked him, and had she not promised to
drink with him?

The guerrila was not a man of lofty ideas.
If a woman swayed him, he was as ready to
go wrong as right, and just then he was

' ready to do what Berta said—providing it

did not concern Talbot. That was beyond
the limit of his ieldin . '

All this the entuCkian read, and he won-
dered what would be the result. He knew it
was Berta’s purpose to get Ribera fully in-
toxicated, but the situation was critical and
Don Eduardo might arrive before the work
was accomplished.

So the Kentuckian grew nervous and was
half-inclined to set upon the ruflian and end
the suspense; but the senorita seated herself
before him and smiled upon him in a be-
wildering way.

Ribera brushed his hand frequently across
his face. He felt confused, but supremely
happy. The fool was in the toils and he
knew it not.

Brigida returned with the refreshments,
and with her own hands the senorita poured
the red wine and passed the cake, while the

uerrilla, who had intended to be prudent,
ost all caution and drank freely.

“I must rejoin my braves,” he said thick-
ly, “but I hate to leave you alone with the
invader." -

“ Do not leave," urged Berta. “ I am
sure all is well outside, and I shall be lonely
without you.” .

“ Your voice is like a flood of music,” he
gallantly said, “,but a soldier should know
no call except that of dut . Press me no
further, Donna Berta, for must go.”

There wasadog ed firmness in hisman-

ner, and the mai en thought perhaps it;

\

. Kentuck Talbot’s Band. ’ 1

(x?

 

would be as well to get rid of him as to at-
tempt to carry out her previous idea on a
man who seemed unaffected by liquor.

“Retain your seat, Brigida,” she gracious
ly said; “ I will myself conduct Captain
Rihera outside.”

She placed her hand on his arm, but he
remained looking at Talbot. _

“Before I go,” he said, “ I must see that
the bonds of the Americana are secure.”

“ The are quite secure." she said hurried-

“ here is no fear from them, captain.

l .
(iron-1e, let us go L”

She took a step toward the door, but Ri-
bera had grown obstinate.

“I admire your lofty courage,” he said,
“but I cannot leave until 1 have made
sure.”

Berta was alarmed and perplexed, but
Talbot saw that it would not be wise to
thwart the guerrilla in his present mood. If
he went away, it Would be with a suspicion
in his mind, and their safety demanded that

he be overpowered and placed beyond mis-'

chief.

“You give me credit for supernatural
powers, Captain ltibera," he interrupted,
"but.,I am pained to say, my bonds are
lamentany strong. If you will loosen them
a trifle, on will greatly oblige me.”

He he (1 out his hands, with the cords still
upon them, and Berta. seeing that he had an
idea, made no further objection. Ribera
growled something about the “ accursed in-
vader ” and advanced to his side.

Of course, for him to touch the cords
meant sure discovery, and the Kentuckian
braced himself for the encounter. He knew

very well that the guerrilla would not loosen

his bonds—as, indeed, they did not require
-—-and he only awaited the proper moment to
take matters in his own hands.

Ribera bent down to touch the cords, but
at that instant, Talbot moved. Quick as a
flash he threw one arm about the guerrilla’s
neck, while his other hand was clasped over
his bearded mouth and nostrils.

Before Captain Crispo had time to realize
the situation. he was lying flat on his back
and the “ invader ” was kneeling on his
breast. The mask was throWn OE and Tal-
bot was for a while master of the situation.

Berta whispered to Brigida, who hurried
away, and then she turned to the two men
who were scowling at each other with far
different emotions. Talbot was cool, con-
fident and active, while Ribera was confused,
weak and stupid.

“Lie still!” said the victor, sharply. “ If

oubehave well you shall not be iarmed,
but if you try to give an alarm, the conse-
quences be on your own head.”

The dismayed outlaw tried to speak and

 

say that he yielded, but Talbot’s hand was
over his mouth and only a hollow gurgle
sounded.

The Kentuckian looked at the donna, but
at that moment Brigida rc-entered the apart-
ment, bearing aquantity of cords.

“Keep your place, senor," she said, to
Talbot. “ I will bind him.”

And then, without waiting for an answer,
she proceeded to carry out her idea.

In a short time the guerrilla was bound
and gagged, and then Berta pointed to the
second Window. He was dragged to the
cover of the curtains and stowed away in
the recess where he Would' not be seen unless
by a close search.

Then the trio drew a little apart.

“ You must delay no longer, Don Edwin,”
said the girl. “ it is a wonder my father
has not been here l‘d'iOl't‘, now. and he is
liable to come at any minute. You must at
once assume the dress of a peon and make
your escape.”

“ I am ready for the venture,” Talbot
promptly replied, “but what of you, senor-
ita? What will your father say when he dis-
covers what you have done?"

“Do not think of me, Don Edwin.”

“I must and will think of you. It is
cowardly for, me to leave you to face such a
peril alone.”

His manly utterance plainly pleased the
girl, for her fair face grew softer.

“ I give you life for life, senor,” she said.

“I-know, and may all blCSSlll_'S be yours,
but in saving me you have placed yourself in
fresh peril and it is cowardly for me to leave
you to face it. Donna Berta, there is no
safety for you here. Will you leave with
me and trust yourself to my care?”

CHAPTER Xl’.
A cmsrs IN EVENTS. ‘

FIVE minutes before Talbot had not the
slightest idea of uttering such words, but! as
the chances of his escape seemed to increase,
the full realization of what Donna Berta'
must enebnnter came to him, and he could ,
see but one way to act.

A sudden light, which was like a flood of
joy, brightened the girl’s face. but it speedily
faded. In her heart she loved the brave
Ranger, and his proposal gave her great
pleasure, but as she realized that it merely
proceeded from his manliness of heart and
not from responsive love, she turned aside
from temptation.

“ I thank you. Don Edwin, but it cannot
be. Your band of Texans are in the field
and a woman would be a burden upon you.
My place is with my people and I must
sta .” ~

He pleaded his cause earnestly, but 

 

 

18

    

Kentuck Talbot’s Band.

 

was firm. They spoke rapidly for several

minutes, but, when the Kentuckian saw she

could not be moved, he began once more to
. think of himself.

Brigid-a had quietly left the room and re-
turned with the dress of a peon, and when
this‘had been donned by the Ranger, his ap-
pearance was not such as to attract suspicion
in the night—time.

It was arranged that Berta should remain
where she was and Brigida guide him to the

, court, and the time for farewell had come.

Talbot was deeply moved. lie realized
all that the Senorita had done and was dar-
ing for him, and he read very well the light
in her splendid eyes. She loved him and
he was going away, perhaps never to see
her again. The thought gave him pain,
and in that supreme moment he felt anew
emotion and resolved that he would see her
again if he had to swim seas of blood to ac-
complish it.

'Twas that time in a man's life, a time
which comes to .but few, and when even
cool-headed men become methodically mad
——pcrhaps over a passion which is not even
love, and which they forget in their calmer
moments—when a man feels an intensity of
feeling and purpose which defies descrip-
tion.

What Edwin Talbot said he could not
have told an hour later, but he poured his
burning words and solemn vows into ears
which eagerly listened, and in some way the
farewell was said.

Brigida and the Ranger departed and
‘ Donna Berta was left alone with the pris-
' oners by the window—alone, but not un-

happy. The gallant Kentuckian, her hero,

had promised to return to her if he lived,
'and in her warm heart there 'was not a
' doubt. '
Meanwhile the peon woman had led our
hero to a door which opened into the court.
' There, he was to depart from the last of his
allies, and as he gave her his hand in fare—
well, he could not but remember how the
last hour had changed his opinion of her.

Her face was coarse and masculine, and at
first he had thought her cruel and merciless,
but under the guiding hand of her beloved
mistress, she had utterly reversed his judg—
ment.

The door closed behind him and he looked

_ lkeenly around. The night was dark and

that immediate part of the court nearly de-
serted. Two or three peons glided past, like
men on their heat, but if they saw Talbot,
they gave no sign.

Time was precious, and he walked quickly
to the wall. Once on the top he could easily
drolp to the prairieand then all would be
we , ‘

 

He was about to ascend when he heard a
sound above, and, looking up, saw a man on
the wall. He pressed against the stones and
waited for him to move on, but, instead, he
turned and dropped lightly beside the Ken-
tuckian.

The latter had no suspicion that he was not
a peon, and he nerved himself to carry out
his part. A second glance, however, gave
him great surprise, for he recognized the
face and form of Nathan Maxwell.

The owner of the red lasso was on the
track.

At the same moment the Texan saw the
dark form beside him, and he was about to
precipitate himself on what he thought a fee
when Talbot spoke his name.

“ Hold! Maxwell, don’t you know me?"

” Is it you, Talbot?” he asked. ‘

“Itis, indeed, but how in the world did
you scale the wall?"

“ Easy enough. The Greasers were Watch-
ing for a body of men, and they did not see
the single one who crawled snake-like through
the grass and then mounted the wall by
means of one of the tree-ladders we left
there some time ago.” '

“ You were rush to come here alone, Max-
well. We are in a very hot bed of the Mexi—
cans, and they are liable to find us at any
moment. Let us go while we can.”

“ Do you advise me to retreat?”

“ Your life depends on it."

“ You seem to be safe here,” quickly and
suspiciously answered the Texan.

“ I have just escaped from the house, and
glad enough I shall be to feel the prairie-
grass under my feet.”

“ Do you know why I have come here,
youn man?”

ll 0-”

“ I am going to open the gate and admit
our men!” declared Maxwell.

‘ “ For your life, don’t try!”

“ And why not?"

“ You will surely be discovered."

“ I will run the risk."

Talbot was in a state amounting almost to
agony— He knew that for the Texans to
enter the place meant a renewal of the fight,
and he had good cause to apprehend violence
on the part of the. band if they gained a
chance. For the rutfianly guerrillas be cared
nothing, but he feared for the women, if- an
entrance was gained.

His usage at the hands of Berta had
changed the current of his feelings. fle
would have died to save her, and, even if
the Texans remained true to their creed and
lifted no hand against the weaker sex. he be-
lieved it would go hard with Don Eduardo. '.
He owed nothing to [the hacienderorbut

    
 

Kentuck Talbot’s Band. 19

Berta loved him and would mourn if harm
was done him.

“Let us go away,” he feverishly said.
“We have done good work for our cause,
and there is little more to be done here."

Maxwell glared furiously into l is face.

“ Ribera and his red-handed bounds are
here!” he hissed.

“Leave them until another time. I fear
for the haciendero and his household, if the
Texans enter.”

“ I thought as much, but your fancy shall
not save them. If 1 had my way, every per-
son. male and female, should be served as
they served Luke Brastow. Say no more,
boy, I will open the gate.”

“You shall not!” protested Talbot, grasp-
ing his arm. »

Maxwell shook off his hold and showed
his white teeth in a tigerish snarl.

“Beware!” he hissed. “I am not to he
turned from my purpose, and there are those
gho already doubt your loyalty to the Lone

tar.”

He could not have struck a straighter
blow. Sincere and loyal  Talbot was, the
doubts of his comrades had always troubled
him, and as Maxwell spoke he drew proudly
back.

“ Say no more," he answered. ‘ “Have
your own Way, but I wash my hands of this
work.” ,

“ Come with me to the gate.”

Side by side the pair stalked toward the
gate. In that critical hour luck seemed to
have utterly forsakenjhe Mexicans, for not
a man appeared to bar their way.

The gate was reached, and with skillful
hands the owner of the red lasso began to
undo the fastenings. -

Talbot stood by in silence, but he was in,

mental agony. Peril and death seemed very
near to fair Berta then.

The last fastening gave way, and Max-
well pulled the gate ajar. The way was
open to the Texans!

CHAPTER XII.
AN EXCITING DRAMA.

“THERE is no time to lose,” said Max-

well, uickly. “ Do you go at once to
Major almcr and tell him to mahe a dash
for the gate.”
' It was an order Talbot dared not disobey.
His reputation was at stake, and for him to
be backward then would ineffaceably brand
him a. traitor. A true man values his honor
above all things earthly, and for a time the
memory of Bertha grew dim.

With a simple reassurance to Maxwell, be

glided through the gate, and crouching low,

hurried toward where the Ranger had said
the band was. to be found.

 

As he went he half-expected to receive a '

shot from the wall. but all remained silent.
He would not have cared much at that mo-
ment if he had become a target for the guer-
rillas’ rifles.

He reached t-he camp of the Texans, and a

word was enough to announce him as a
friend, while the simple announcement that
the gate was open was enough to bring every
man'upon his feet.

Major Palmer became wide awake in an
instant. He ordered an immediate advance,
directing 'the Rangers to advance silently
until discovered, and then make a dash.

Edwin Talbot had a duty to perform, and
he placed himself beside his leader.

“ Where have you been all this while?”
Palmer asked. ‘

The Kentuckian briefly related how he
had been captured, held in imprisonment,
and finally freed by the haciendero’s
daughter.

“What will you do when inside the
walls?” he then asked.

“ Kill every man who opposes us, and then

wipe out the last of Ribera’s men, it any,"

survive,” the maior fiercely answered.
“And Don E made?”

“ Will be dealt with according as he be- I

haves when we attack.“
“ There are women there, major."
“What of them.”
“They saved my life, and I would save
them from harm,” replied Talbot, unsteadi-

y. . I
“ Rest easy, sir, for we are Texans. You

have been with me for a year, Edwin Talbot.
Did you ever, in that time, know me to
countenance war upon, or severity toward,
one of their sex?”

“Never, major, never,” was heartin an-

swered, a great load lifting from his heart.’

“ I confess I feared for” them, but I was
mad.”

By this time they were too near the gate
for conversation; indeed, it seemed a wonder
that they had not'already been discovered.

Palmer began to suspect a trap, and, of
course, if there was one, Talbot was at the
bottom of it; but he resolved to test the
matter. Giving the word to his men, tht
made a rapid dash for the gate. '

Only a few rods intervened between them
and the goal, when a carbine was discharged
on the wall—the tardy warning of a worth-
less sentry. ~

There was an instant hum of voices inside '

the gate, but, before much time had passed,
the Rangers were at the opening.  hoarse
shout sounded from Maxwell, provmg that

all was well, and then the gallant hand went r

through with a rush. _ ,
Men were rushing to and fro in the court,

 

 

ft
1.9

a
Hr

   
   

20

Kentuck Talbot’s‘ Baud.

  

 

but there was nothing which looked like
armed opposition. Plainly the enemy were
taken at a decided disadvantage.

The greater part of the Texans paid their
first attention to the court, and they found
there peons who had been peacefully sleep-
ing on the bare flagging, but scarcely one
of them lifted a hand in opposition, and,
by Palmer’s order, they were treated with
mercy. '-

Here and there a man was met who fought
desperately, and when he was beaten down
he was found to wear the uniform of Ribera’s
guerrillas. To such no pity was shown.

Edwin Talbot had at once made a rush for
the inside of the case. He wanted to be
nearBerta and save her from harm and a
strange calmness had taken possession of his
previous excitement. '

He saw men follow at his heels, fellow
Rangers, but he paid no heed to them. He
rushed toward the room where he had last
seen the senorita, and flung open the door.

The apartment was empty, or seemed to
be. There was no sign of Berta.

He turned back into the corridor, but, by
this time, those who had followed him had
made a hasty search, and a cry arose from
them.

“The motes!” shouted the mad Rangers.
“ We shall find them there!”

Talbot caught at the idea and made a rush
to be at the head. A huge I uerrilla arose,
however, from a recess, an , catching the
Kentuckian, attempted to hurl him to the
foot of the stairway.

They fell together, and Talbot was half-
stunned for a moment, but recovering his
footing. he saw the guerrilla flat upon the
floor with Nathan Maxwell kneeling upon
his breast. The former struggled in vain in
the grasp of the life-hunter, and Talbot saw
that he was deliberate] y strangling ltt'm with
the Ted lasso I
’ The Kcntuckian turned from the repulsive
sight and bounded up the steps of the «gated!

A dozen females had instinctively retreated
there, all peons except Donna Berta and the
Texans, who were the most lawless of the
whole band, had imprisoned them and were
demanding kisses from more mischief.

Talbot’s blood boiled at this disregard of
Major Palmer's orders, and as he saw Berta
struggling in the arms of a stout seoundrel,

' he stepped forward and dealt him a blow
which dashed him half‘stunned against the
parapet.

In a moment more the Kentuckian had
drawn the really frightened senorita to one
side where he could efend her.

“Have no further fear, dear lady," he
said. “ These rufilans shall only touch you

x: by passing over my body.”

’...s.

 

“ Oh! you willruin yourself, Don Edwinl”
she gasped.

“ I will protect you or die!” he hotly an—
swered. .

The fallen man had regained his feet, and
the Rangers, sobered by the quarrel, followed
him as he strode toward the Kentuckian.
They had not intended to harm the women,
but a blow had been given, and, among
Eben), such things were always accounted

or.

“Ed Talbot!” hissed the man, “ I’ll have
your life for that act!"

“ Come on, and make no words about it
retortcd the hero, holding his saber in a vise-
like grasp.

In a minute more the clash of steel would
have sounded on the (Izotem, but at that mo-
ment a new voice was heard, and Major
Palmer and a dozen men appeared on the
scene.

“ Hold there!” he commanded, as soon as
he discovered the state of afiairs in the dlm
light. “ What quarrel is this?”

“Talbot has turned traitor and raised his
hand against our own boys,” answered one,
quickly.

 

CHAPTER XIII.
THE FIG-HT UNDER THE WALLS.

PALMER turned sharply upon the speaker.

“Where is your proof?" he demanded.

“ It has been accumulating for weeks—”

“ Then we will settle the matter anon. At
present I do not see ’wherein Talbot is to
blame.”

At this moment a man bounded upon the
amtea and stood breathless beside the major.

He was one of the guards set to watch for
the coming of pessible reinforcements. and
his manner was enough to alarm the Texan.

“What now?” l’almerdemanded. '

“More Greasers are coming! They num-
ber at least a hundred, and are riding pell-
mell toward the case. They will be here in
five minutes,”

“ Retreat is our watchword then,” said the
major, with surprising calmness. “ Every
man to his horse and all ride like fiends for
safer soill"

“ Why not make a fortress of the house ?"
asked one man.

“ And have a thousand men howling
around us in twenty-four hours? No, sir,
our only course is to retreat.”

The men turned toward the stairway, but
Palmer looked hesitatingly at Donna Berta.

“ Senorita." he kindly said, “war knows
little law and we must save ourselves. As
much as I regret the necessity, you must go
with us as a hostage, but I swear by my
honor that you shall be well Nested/3

are 1 ‘ '

p:

    

 

   

Kennel: Talbot’s Band. ' 21

 

“Major, is there no way to avoid this?”
asked the Kentuckian, in fresh alarm. "

“None, sir, but you, yourself, shall be the
lady’s guard. Senorita, I trust you will be
sensible and obey my wishes, and you have
a soldier’s word of honor that all shall be
well.”

Talbot was quick-witted, and he saw that
there was no appeal from the verdict, while

' any further rcmonstrance on his part would

lessen his influence with the major. He
knew, too, that the latter would conscien-
tiously keep his pledge.

So _he spoke quickly to Berta, explaining

the Sltuation, and ending by reiterating the
promise of fair treatment. /
I No more was needed. It was enough for
Berta. that she was to go in charge of the man
she loved, and she would have followed him
to the end of the world.

She prompt] acquiesced in the plan, and
the Rangers esccnded from the roof and
into the court. Men were there to urge
them to hasten. The guerrilla reinforcement
was almost at hand and the momenta critical
one.

Their horses had been brought to the gate
and they hurriedly mounted.

Talbot managed to secure his Own horse
and see Berta well mounted, but at that mo-
ment there was a hoarse chorus of yells, and
the Mexicans swept down upon them.

Major Palmer grasped the whole situation
at a glance. He knew they must fight, and
to fight when in retreat would place them at
‘a decided disadvantage; while, with their
superior weapons and matehless courage,
they might, by a bold stand, repel the first
rush of the guerrillas and gain a better start.

So his clear voice rung out in a decisive
command, and at the word the Texans hurled

. themselves against the van of the Mexicans

as valiantly as though the odds were not
terribly against them.

Talbot had received directions to devote
himself entirely to Donna Berta and the or-

‘ der was obeyed.

It was a moment of sore temptation to the
Kentuckian. He did not like the idea of the
maiden being a prisoner, and at that time
he might have turned back and placed her
safely in the case. It seemed that there was
little to lose by it, since so many of his com—
rades already believed him a traitor, but the
recollection of Major Palmer’s confidence in
him was enough to prevent his rash deed.

Perhaps all might yet be well. Don
Eduardo had been left unharmed inside the
cam, his property had been respected, and
matters might not end so badly after all.

The rush of the Rangers was almost resist—
less. Their rifles cracked With deadly ef-

fect, and then their sabers and pistols taught

 

a lesson of Texan bravery and skill. Even
the superior numbers of the guerrillas could
not enable them to withstand such an attack,
and they began to give ground.

The hardest fighter among all the Texans
was Nathan Maxwell; indeed, he seemed for
the time to have become almost a score of
men within one, and his fighting was terrific.

As he dashed to and' fro, wielding his
saber, his red lasso hung over his saddle, but
it was not needed to remind him of his vow
of vengeance.

The Mexican leader did all in his power,
with voice and sword, but, despite his ef-,
forts, his followers broke and began to reu
treat.

The Rangers promptly pursued, for Palmer
was shrewd enough to know thatif left alone
they would soon recover from their demorali-
zation. To pursue them too far would be
equally a mistake, for, under any circum-
stances, they were bound sooner or later to
remember their superiority of numbers, and
he must draw a line between the two ex-
tremes, an operation of considerable nicety.

In the midst of the pursuit his command
sounded, and, as one man, the Texans Wheel-
ed their horses and swept away.

Their course was toward the northwest,
for in that direction lay their most promis-
ing path of retreat, and .they would run so
near the Chaparral, mentoned in our opening
chapters, that they could take refuge there if
hard pressed.

Looking back as they rode, they saw no
sign of the Mexicans in pursuit, but they
knew the whole pack would soon be at their
heels, and the prospect was not a pleasant,
one.

Berta, having yielded herself a prisoner,
did not play the part of a sulker, or attempt
to delay the flight, and as Palmer saw how
well she was ridingand managing her horse,
he fell back to her side and thanked her
warmly. A

Talbot was deeply impressed by the offi-
cer’s manner, and more than ever is realized
that few men possessed the nobility and
solid common sense of his gallant leader.

Maxwell seized the opportunity to press to
the side of the Kentuckian.

"Did you see Ribera while you were in- I
side the case .9” he asked.

Talbot replied afiirmatively.

“ Where was he during the fight? I look-
ed for him everywhere, but in vain. I do
not think another member of his band es-
caped, but he either went over the wall or
hid in some secure place.”

He briefly related how Ribera had been
disposed of after being overpowered.

The owner of the red lasso ground out a
terrible regret between his teeth. .

’ .

 

 

 

22

Kentuck Talbot’s Band.

   

  

 

“I was in that very room,” he added,
“but I did not once think of looking behind
the curtains. The Evil One protected his
own and Ribera escaped me again, but the
end is not yet. The number of those against
whom my oath is directed is reduced to one,
and I will yet serve him as he deserves!”

He held aloft the red lasso, and Talbot
could not repress a shudder at his manner.
He remembered how kind and quiet this man
had ever been in camp and on the trail, be-
fore Luke Brastow died, and he realized
how strong must be the man’s nature to
make him What he had become.

The progress of the party was very rapid;
indeed, their horses were going at a telling
gallop, and there was a good demand for all
their speed. Their repealed afirays had re—
duced their number to twenty-three, all told,
and as the Mexicans must number eighty,
and could easily be reinforced ,from Don
Eduardo’s peons, the outlook, in case it came
to a hand-to-hand fight, was dark enough.

CHAPTER XIV.
HARD PRESSED.

A MILE was soon passed and the prospect
began to look a trifle brighter, though not
one of the Rangers was foolish enough to
believe they had seen the last of the Mexi-
cans. The latter had for some time halted
at the case, where, of course, Captain Ribera
would be found if no Texanhad‘hm-med
him, and it was but natural to suppose the

uerrilla would be in a fierce rage and urge

is allies on to seek revenge.

Thus far, the captured horses had been re—
tained, but Palmer had little hope of getting
them to friendly soil, nor did he intend to
cling to them if hard pressed.

The were riding with the Chaparral on
their left, and the major had questioned
’ Talbot further in regard to it, but, as the
latter had before said, it was a place little
known, and if they were forced to take
refuge there, they must depend on luck and
circumstances.
. The Kentuckian still rode beside Berta,
but, in the darkness, he could not see the ex-
pression of her face.

“Affairs have taken a disagreeable turn
for you, senorita,” he observed, after Palmer
left him.

, “I do not think I am so badly oil' as you
. were a few hours ago,” she replied, quietly,

“ You have nothing to fear from our men.
for Major Palmer never breaks his word, but
this forced ride is not pleasant.”

“I do not complain, thus far.”

“ Whatever occurs, I will do my best for
you.’ I have not forgotten the aid you gave
me ’

The words were simple enough in them-
selves, but the inflection of her voice told
far more and the Ranger felt a new thrill in
his being. Little by little he was coming to
have a new feeling toward this fair (laugh.
ter of the tropics, and, in spite of his own
precarious standing in the band, he. was
giving about all of his attention to her.

Jack Plunkctt, who had been riding in
the rear, pressed forward to the side of the
major.

“ What is it?” the latter quickly asked.

“ I sorter opine the Greasers are comin’. I
kin bear the poundin' 0’ bosses” hoofs in our
rare, an’, es I can’t soliloquize any other
cause for it, it follys that it be the inemy.”

“ Undoubtedly,” answered Palmer,thought-
frilly, “and we may expect a hot chase.
What do you say, Jack, is it best to hang to
the extra horses or let them go?”

“flWal, major, I kinder hate ter give ’em

“ So do I, but we had better do that than
to lose everything. I’m afraid they will have
to go. Fall back to the extreme roar, Jack,
and investigate. If the Greasers are after us
in full force, as they' doubtless are. we shall
have to abandon the animals and ride for
dear life.” '

“Correct, major."

He fell back a little in the body, but Pal-
mer suspected from his manner that he
would be glad if the Mexicans overtook
them. '

Jack Plunkett soon returned at a gallop.

“ They’re a—eomin’, major, an’ like a troop
0’ wild stellyons. They must hev uncom-
mon good hoss- flesh, too, for they’re gainin’
ev’ry second.”

“It is as I expected, and we must no
longer be burdened by the extra horses.
Let them loose, men, and they may delay
the enemy a trifle."

The order was promptly obeyed, and the
animals, though loth to leave their for-
mer company, settled into a responsive gal-
lop, after a slight hesitation, and followed in
the rear.

This did not trouble them; they knew that
if the worst came, the three‘score unridden
horses would prove a temporary hindrance
to the guerrillas.

.With all their shrcwdness, the Texans had
failed to see a cunning move on the part of
the Mexicans. Some one had used good
judgment, and the delay in direct pursuit
«was not due to confusion or imbecility on
the part of the foe. .

The guerrilla leader had at once surmised
Wluit would be the course of the fugitives,
and, holding back a portion of his force for

 

“ I trust you fully, Don Edwin.”

 

a short time, he sent forty of his best

mounted men away at full speed, directing 3

 

:4 $.4‘19l1’ H‘n- mv.

 you - r}, :

 

 

    

  
 

 

....~ .41. ,.. ..

Kentuck Talbot’s Band. , 23

 

them to make a slight detour, get ahead of
the Texans and so force them into a trap at
a given point.

Thus it was that the devoted band, closely
followed by the unridden steeds, which Were
in turn followed by the seeond force of
guerrillas, suddenly dashed into a motto to
see men arise on all sides of them, while a
volley of bullets from ill»aimed carbines
swept through their ranks. killing two men
and wounding others; but, for the most part
spending their fury on the empty air..

A responsive yell arose from the force in
the rear, and Palmer comprehended that he
was In a trap.

His clear voice gave the terse order to
charge and the gallant Rangers tried to obey,
but the odds were strongly against them and
they were hurled back in a state nearing
confusion.

Brief as the delay had been, it was enough
for the first party to almost reach the spot,
and only a simple obstacle saved the handful
of Texans from instant annihilation.

The first party attempted to continue their
progress, but they ran full into the unriddcn
horses, which were rushing wildly about,
and, despite their efierts, their advance was
temporaril y stayed. '

Palmer did not lose his presence of mind.
He saw how desperate was their situation,
and he knew that but one thing could save
them.

He gavethc word in a voice subdued but
clear, and, as one man, the Texans wheeled
their horses and rode at a gallop toward the
Chaparral. ‘

The dense wood loomed up darkly not far

' away, and, once in its shelter, there might

be some hope, though the outlook was not
promising.

The only one of the fugitives who was
pleased with, the prospect was Nathan Max-
well. He. had managed to dispose of two

uerrillas in the affray, and the fact fired his
lglOt blood. Probably, at that moment, he
would rather have died fighting than to have
escaped.

No enemy appeared to oppose their fresh
retreat, and the Chaparral was soon reached.
Once there, new troubles and plans lay be-
fore them. In many places the wood was
too dense for the passage of horses, and even
man would not have cared to force his way
where cactus and mesquit lurked with their
sharp thorns

An entrance was safely made, and Palmer
was half inclian to order a halt and make a
stand against the guerrillas, but they came
thundering toward the ehaparral at that mo-
mentin such a formidable way that he de~
cided to retreat further.

Inthis emergency the services of Edwin

0-»—

 

Talbot were again required, for he, of all the
band, was the only one who had ever before
set foot inside the tangled wood.

He thought quickly and gave the major the
benefit of his opinion. By withdrawing a
little from the edge of the chapparral, ground
would be reached where horses could not go,
and at that point they could make a stand if
they wished.

They must either do this or turn sharply to
the right and ride along the edge of the
wood, a course which would give the Mexi-
cans a dangerous chance to outwit or over-
power them.

 

CHAPTER XV.
IN THE CHAPARRAL.

MAJOR PALMER perceived that the only
hope for the Rangerslay in going still deeper
into the wood, and they continued to retreat.
They were soon obliged, by the low branches
of the trees, to dismount and lead their
horses, and after awhile they worked them-
selves into a place where even this way of
progress became impossible.

They could hear the Mexicans in the dis-
tance, but, as none were near at hand, it
seemed that they were perfecting their plans
before making another advance.

“ What shall we do now?" Palmer asked,
addressing the Kcntuckian.

" We have got into a very hotbed of eac-
tus and mesquit, and "only two courses are
open to us,” our hero replied.

“ Name them.”

“ Either we must abandon our horses and
retreat on foot, or remain here and resist as
best we can.”

“We must retain our horses if possible.”

“ We should certainly be in a bad fix with-
out them."

“They must be saved, but I do not like
the idea of remaining here to let the enemy
Work at their will.” ,

“ Daylight cannot be over two hours
away. When it comes we can see what
kind of a place we are in.” .

“ Before that time the iron gripe of the
Grensers may be upon us, and, even if we
are let alone till then, the coming of day will
aid them as much as us.”

“ True,” said the Kentuckian, absently.

“You have an idea. What is it?"

“Nothing brilliant. I was wondering if
we could cut a path for retreat by means of
our sabers.”

“ The plan does not promise much, but it
is worth trying, Anything is better than to
stand idly here and let the enemy do all the.
work.” .

The major began an investigation, but

 

 

 

 

Kentuck Talbot’s Band.

 

there was little to be discovered. They were
surrounded by thick and thorny bushes, and
these, it cut away, must be demolished in
total darkness.

The work was begun, but they soon found
it a slow and difficult one. Bush after bush
was cut down, but the progress was not cal-
culated to encourage them. Still, an avenue
was being opened, and more favorable
ground might soon be reached.

Jack I’lunkett wormed his way through
the undergrowth into the space beyond. He
was gone a considerable time, but when he
came back his manner struck Palmer as be-
ing full of import.

“ Well?" the officer eagerly questioned.

“Things might be wuss,’ answered the
veteran. “Ef we kin how our way a few
rods furder, we shall strike a mule—path, or
some durned crooked avenue, an’ onc’t thar
we kin go somers—I dunno whar.”

“A path ahead? IIurrahl do you hear
the news, boys? Work on, and we will yet
out-wit the foe.”

" Wait a little, major,” interposed Talbot.
"If there is a path some of the Mexicans
may know of it, and if they do, won’t they
send a force that Way themselves?”

“I didn't think of that," admitted the
major,

“If there are only soldiers in their party,
there is a hope that they do not know of the
path,” continued the Kentuckian, with clear
logic; “but if Don Eduardo‘s peons are in
the gang, they must be aware that the path
is there.” '

“ They do know it is there, as do all that
belong to my father’s hacienda," said Donna
Berta:

“ To where does the path lead, senorita?”
asked the major. looking at her keenly.

“To a small glade where there is good
water. It does not extend more than a bun-
dred yards beyond here, and ends in wood
as dense as we have at this point The path
is used by the cattle of our hacienda when
they seek the water.”

“ How much. do you know about this chap-
arral. senorita‘l"

"Very little. I have often been inside its
edges, but the way is so difficult, I have
never cared to explore it thoroughly.”

“ Isuppose your peons know it well?”

“Many of them do, senor.”

" I suppose there are few breaks in the
trees and bushes?”

“ There are none of consequence, I think.
Nothing more than an occasional glade of
_ small size."

“ Well, we are nearly to the path. and we
will go on. If we meet the guerrillas there,
we will fight.”

'4 Why not fight new?” interrupted Max-
. , ,

,. “new...” .a .' .,

 

well. “ A bold dash may save us, but if we
hang around here until day we shall be irre-
trievably in the trap.”

“ We have tried fighting and it would be
madness to pit our handful of men against
the odds of the Mexicans. We will on."

The cutting of the avenue continued, while
the major stood silent and thoughtful. He
was not in a pleasant mood. It looked very
much as though what were left of his men
were deemed to destruction; but, even if
they escaped, he would probably be severe-
ly censured for leading them on such a dis-
astrous mission. His reputation was at
stake, and he did not see how to preserve it.

Maxwell, foreseeing the possibility that the
horses would be abandoned, removed the
red lasso from his saddle and wound it
around his body. Come what might, the
weapon of vengeance had a mission to per
form, and only its accomplishment or the
end of his own life could end the trail.

The seeming inactivity of the Mexicans be~
gan to grow suspicious. It did not seem
probable that, with the handful of refugees
almost within their grasp, they would hold
idly back and give them time to escape.

There were but three ways of accounting
for their backwardncss—either they had no
fear that the Texans would escape from the
Chaparral, or they were planning some cun-
ning trap, or else they actually feared the
deadly rifles, despite their preponderance of
numbers.

All the party felt relieved when the work—
men struck the path, but, before passing
along it, they paused and listened intently.

Tropical woods abound in night birds
and beasts that wander at night, but, besides
their voices, all was silent in the Chaparral.
There was no sound from the' guerrillas.

The advance was again commenced. The
path was so narrow that they were obliged
to move in single file, and almer, who in-
sisted on leading the way, every moment ex-
pected to see the Mexicans spring up in his
path; but the short distance to the glade was
traversed Without trouble.

Another halt was made in the glade. It
was a mere break in the trees, where the
fountain bubbled musically to the surface,
and total silence reigned all around except
for the sounds made by their own party,

The major glanced upward at the sky.

"Day is no more than an hour away,” he
observed.

“ Our troubles begin anew then,” said one
of the men in a subdued voice.

" Are you discouraged, Peel?" asked the
major. . - .

" I would give a good deal to see Texan
s’ile at this minute, I’ll allow. but I won’t,

' complain while 1 have Texan tobacco in my

 

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‘ 54-91 a: 

 

 

 

 

Kentuck. Talbot’l Band. - 25

 

   

pocket,” replied the man, in a tone which
left no doubt of his courage.

The men were allowing their horses to
drink at the fountain, and, in the meanwhile,
Palmer stared straight into the darkness as
though he hoped to find there some plan for
his benefit. ,

“I wish we had a guide,” he muttered.

'“ This is no place of safety for you,” said
Berta.

” Where can we go?”

“ You can only go forward.”

"Mesquite and cactus are there, and the
busbhes interlace like the threads of aspider’s
we .”

“ The guerrillas are behind,” said Talbot.
suggestively.

“ You are right, and we will improve
every minute. Resume work with your
sabers, men, and we may reach a place bet.
ter adapted for defense.”

“We are leaving water if we leave here,”
suggested one of the men.

“ There is a plenty in the Chaparral, I
think,” assured the Kentuckian.

“Thirst ain’t the inemy the most ter be
dreaded,” added Jack Plunkett.

“ We will go forward,” said Palmer, deci~
sively. “We can’t get into a worse situa-
tion, and there may be some good luck in
store for us yet."

’ CHAPTER XVI.
A CATASTROPHE.

THE sabers of the men were once more
busy. They made poor instruments for the
work, but the wielders knew what was at
stake and labored with zeal.

The chief actors of our story were waiting
in silence. Talbot stood beside Berta, and
as he looked down on her fair face he felt a
strong desire to draw her to his arms as a
shield from harm. '

r Perhaps their peril hastened the work, but,
be that as it may, he felt his interest in her
growing with each hour. She was one of
those warm-hearted women occasionally met
with whose afiection is beyond price, and,
gradually, he was coming, to trust and be-
lieve in her implicitly.

Palmer stood with one hand resting on his
saddle, stern and thoughtful, while Nathan
Maxwell was at the rear, his glances rovin
about the darkness as though he really hopecgl
to see an enemy appear.

' It was a period of unpleasant suspense to

l

a 1.
If the'Texans had thoroughly explored the
vicinity of the fountain when they first ar-

’ rived, it might have saved them a severe

misfortune, but they were not the first or
last'men who have committed a blunder, 211'",

 

the calamity fell upon them when least
expected. .

As the hand stood so still. awaiting the
cutting of the avenue, they had not seen the
hostile eyes peering at them from the dark-
ness at one side of the glade; they had not
seen the dark forms which emerged from
the underbrush, their movements drowned
in the noise made by the workmen, and
there was no warning to any until the blow
fell.

Major Palmer had fallen into deep thought,
and, as several men moved to his side, he did
not heed them or look to see that they were
not. of his band.

Suddenly, however, the, whole of them,
some five or six in number, flung,r themselves
upon the officer, and in a twinkling; he was

lifted from his feet and borne toward the '

bushes. .

He was taken by surprise, and did not
realize his peril any sooner than the other
Texans, and, by the time he had begun to
struggle, a cry from his followers attracted
the attention of all.

“The Greascrsl” cried one impetuous-

Texan. “Shoot the dogs!”

“Hold, for your lives!" called out Jack
Plunkett, hoarsely. “You will shoot the
major. Feller me!"

He made a rush for the bushes, putting out
his hands in (advance to clear the way, but,
to his surprise, only yielding branches and
leaves opposed him, and he knew he had
struck a path they had previously over-
looked.

“Pursue, men, pursuel” shouted Talbot,
alive to the trouble which would ensue if the
major-was 10st.

As for himself, his post of duty was beside
Berta, and he would not desert her.

The bushes opened and closed like a flash
as Maxwell bounded in pursuit, and other
men followed. until Talbot’ and Berta had
no company except the man Nelson.

Even in the excitement of the moment, the
latter could not forget his doubts of the Ken~
tuckian, and he was resolved to give him no
chance to desert.

The Kentuckian stood irresolutely in the
center of the glade, his saber firmly grasped,
and every moment expecting to see fresh
enemies appear.

He listened intently to the sounds in the
bushes, but after a little they ceased, and the
Chaparral became as silent as usual.

Berta pressed, closely to the side of her
champion, dismayed, for once in her life, for
shadows of all kinds hung darkly around
them. ,

“What shall we do?" asked Nelson, 1111-
easily, after a pause. “ I

“ We can do nothing at present."

: . a 6/2».-

:~ ~ tum.  ‘t,-..

. wanna... ;:

 

    

26

Kentuck Talbot’s Band.

 

“Hadn’t we better follow the men?”

“Why should we?"

“If the Mexicans advance new, we too
shall be captured."

“We must remain to look to the horses.
They are liable to break away if left alone.”

“ Can’t we take them?” .

“Impossible.”

Nelson remained silent for a while longer,
but he could not hide his uneasiness. In
truth, the situation was too threatening for
his nerves; he had bravery enough, as the
world goes. but he did not like to face an un-
seen danger.

He began to press his point again after a
pause. but just then sounds were heard in
the direction in which the Texans had gone,
and before long they came silently back.

Palmer was not at their head, and Talbot
imperioust asked the first man concerning
him.

“We did not find him,” was the gloomy
anawer.’

"‘ Why did you turn back without him?”
Talbot hotly demanded.

“The path ended and we could go no
further. We came upon Jack Plunkett,in-
sensible from some cause, and the way ended
then.”

Just then several of the men laid the un-
conscious Texan upon the ground, and Tal-
bot knelt beside him.

A hasty examination showed that he was
only stunned, and under a liberal application
of water he soon began to revive.

The Kentuckian was almost discouraged.
He knew that no one could lead the Rangers
like their loved major, and everything looked
dark for the future.

Berta had devoted herself to caring for
Jack, as, only a woman can. and under her
efforts he soon recovered and sat upright.

“ Jupiter crickets!” he observed, “I reck-
on summut wrong has happened. Yas, I
remember, I run ag‘in' atree an‘ knocked my
brains out. But whar is the major?”

“A prisoner, Jack,” answered Talbot,
sadly.

“ A pris’ner, an‘ all you men around hyer!
Thunderationl you orter be ashamed l”

The speaker sprung to his feet and glared
fiercely around. His companions avoided
his accusing glance, but the Kentuckian
knew the past could not be undone.

“ We still live,” he quietly said.

“I’d rather die than ter lose the major.”

“ Let it be our work to rescue him, Jack,”
and Talbot extended his hand.

The Texan clasped it warmly.

"I’m with you to the death.”

” Where is Maxwell?” continued Talbot.

, No one answered at first, and it soon be-
came evident that the life—hunter had not re-

 

turned with the others. In some way he
must have found a. passage through the bush
es, providing he had not run upon the Mexi-
cans and been killed. ‘

Talbot believed the former idea correct
and it set him to thinking. The Rangers had
failed to find their way through, but, as the
kidnappers had gone, there must, of course,
be one, and it seemed advisable to find it at
once.

The darkness was already taking on a gray
tinge which foretold the dawn. Outside the
Chaparral it was probably fully light, but in
those dense places night held stubbornly for
the mastery.

The Kentuckian conferred with Jack and
the others and all agreed on the necessity of
movng at once. They were in a place ill-
suited for defense, a way of retreat had been
found, and, though there was danger of an
ambush, it seemed best to look for more suit-
able quarters.

'Edwin asked Jack Plunkett to take the
lead temporarily, and, when others echoed
the request, the worthy scout did not re-
fuse. , '

The newly—discovered pathway was narrow
and obscure, being totally unfit for horse-
back riding, so each man took his steed by
the rein, and the advance was begun in sin-
gle file.

For a. while all went smoothly, but, when
they arrived where the Texan had before
paused, some difficulty was experienced in
penetrating the thorny bushes; but the in—
creasing light aided them and they pushed
on steadily.

CHAPTER XVII.

A BOLD UNDERTAKING.

DAY dawned in the chaparral and the
Texans looked keenly about as they pressed
forward, but there was nothing unusual to
be seen. The tangled wood was around

them, and the path so narrow that the,

branches flapped in their faces as they went.

It was fully daylight when they reached a
small knoll which was more sparsely wooded,
for b.,wlders of all sizes lay around so thick-
ly that trees and plants could only exist
Where they found foothold among the rocks.

Jack Plunkett was not' slow to see some-
thing worthy of attention in the situation.
The place was far better adapted for a
fortress than the ground over which they had
passed. and, as there did not seem to be any
hope of an immediate escape from the chap-
arral, it struck him that a little Work would

make a refuge for them.

He paused and explained his views to his
companions as they came up, but, naturally,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the majority of the Rangers were in favor of
pushing on while they could.

Before the matter was settled, the arrival
of Maxwell put a new face on the situation.

The lifeliunl‘er had not been idle, but, by
indefatigable eiforts, had scouted about the
wood enough to learn a good deal which con-
cerned them.

The Mexican s had evidently improved their

' spare time, for the scout declared that not

t only was there a force in the rear, but, some-
how, another had been started from the
west, thus placing the Texans between the
two.

The information was very timely, for they
might otherwise have run straight into the
second party, and it was enough to settle the
discussion.

Their retreat was cut off and their only
hope was to occupy the knoll and make the
best of it. p

' Accordingly, they at once moved to the
top and began preparations for defense. The
bowlders were mostly easily moved, and,
after half an hour’s work, a circular breast-
Work had been i’ormetip‘hiclr was more
valuable than might at first be supposed.

The rocks had been piled four feet high

' and the crevices filled with earth, thus mak-
ing a wall through which a bullet was not
likely to g0-,

While they worked, Edwin Talbot had
been busily thinking. The enemy seemed
in no hurry to attack them, and, if they in—
tended'to delay much longer, it would be
the best and, perhaps, only chance to rescue
Ma_'or Palmer. '

lie communicated his views to J aek Plun—
kett.

“I dunno.” said the Texan. “I’m rayther
ubous, on the whole, though I do want ter
elp the major uncommon bad.”

“ We must." declared Talbot, earnestly;

“it is our only hope. No one‘else can
govern the men and make them do their
best. ” '

“ But how are we ter find him 7”

“ He must be with the western division of
our enemies.”

' ‘i‘ Ef they ain’t killed him.”

r “ I don’t believe they have. They might
'kill you'or me, but his rank makes him a

valuable prisoner."

 “Wal, I am with you for any ventur’.
What do you propose?”

“Simply that we go on a scent and see
what, can he done.” ~

“ I’m with you, but what of the men?"

f‘ They will only he minus two rifles and
Baxter can stand ‘ at the helm until our
return.” , ,

“ So be it.” . ,.

Talbot’s chief regret lay in leaving Berta

 

without any especial protector, but there was
no other way and they must trust to the
Rangers. -

He went to her and explained their inten
tion. Her face changed color somewhat,
but she assured them she would be well
enough, and her only worry seemed to be in
regard to the Kcntuckian and the risk he
would run.

The Texans made‘no objection to the plan. “

All were very anxious to have their loved

leader back, and,  the only hope of his

rescue seemed to lie in strategy, they were
willing to trust Jack Plunkett and whoever
he chose for a companion.

They looked carefully to their weapons,
said good-by to their fellow Rangers and
started from the knoll. Once, Talbot looked
back and saw Berta standing with clasped
hands, but the sight unnerved him and he
waved a farewell and looked no more. '

They entered the thicker Chaparral and
pushed on in the direction in which Maxwell
had seen the second party of guerrillas. _

“Do you expect to succeed?" asked Jack.

” We viz/um} /”

“Everything is ag’in’ us, even of we man~
nage ter ‘get our eyes on the major.”

11“} know it, but failure means ruin to us
a .’ ..
“ It has been an, unlucky expedition.”

,‘LWe cannot undo the past. Let us go R

on.

They went forward for a hundred yards
and then came suddenly to an opening in
the chaparral. The underbrush had pre-
vented their seeing it‘ until they stepped
from cover. and Jack was about to comment
when Edwin, who was in front, stepped back
so suddenly as :o collide with him.

“For. your life, get to coverl” exclaimed
the Kcntuckian, catching him by the
shoulder.

“What is it?” Jack demanded.

“ Greasersl"

“ In the glade?”

” Yes. Look for yourself,”

Plunkett parted the bushes and obeyed.
He saw an area of about one-fourth of an
acre, free from trees, but a perfect nest of
rocks. There was a peculiarity and symme-

try about their situation, and, as Jack saw. 7

them one above the other, often with a smooth
surface, he knew he was looking on the ruins
of an ancient building.

Once it must have been one of some pre—
tensions, and the fragments of wall still
standing attested to the fact that the builders
had done their work well; but wall, pillar
and dome had yielded to the heavy handbf
time and he saw only a ruin.

Stay! there was something more, fonamidst
the broken walls he saw human. beings and

Kentuck Talbot’s Band. I A 27

i
, i
i
2

 

 

28

Kent-.qu Talbot’s Band.

 

their dress was the uniform of Mexican sol.
diers. ,

_ They had found the band they were seek-
mg.

Jack drew quietly back.

“ What now?" he asked. ,

But Talbot was looking earnestly and a
new light soon appeared in his face.

_ "‘ What do you see?” Jack demanded.

“ Look by the tallest wall, on the northern
side.”

“The major, by thunder!”

“ Yes.” responded Talbot, “Palmer is
there. They have bound him to that bro-
ken pillar and are now planning fresh mis—

' chief."

“We can’t get at him.”

“ We must. Jack, or we are ruined. Ills
presence with the Rangers is all that can save
us. i We must rescue him, and that, too, at
once.”

“The enemy are twenty to us two.”

“We must do the work by stealth; we
must crawl to him and set him free.”

“ it is sure death ter try it. The Greasers
would see an’ kill us.”

“Jack,1 am going to try. It is ruin to

leave him; it can be no more to fall in the
attempt, 1 am going at once, trusting to the
rocks and vines to hide me. If I am taken,
go at once to the band and do what you can
to escape.” '
, Jack’ face was gloomy enough, but he
would say no more. It looked like going to
certain doom, but there was truth In what
Talbot had said and he knew the mettle of
his comrade.

The Kentuckian laid down his rifle, look-
ed to see that his knife was in place, and
wrung Jack’s hand.

"If I succeed,” he said, “ the men will no
longer believe me a traitor. If I fail, good-
by for this work .”

Plunkett silently pressed Edwin’s hand in
a. vise-like gripe. .

“If I fail, do what you can for Berta,
Jack.”

“ I will, my boyee, I will!”

“ Don’t try to aid me. for your efi‘orts will
avail nothing against all these men, and your
arm is needed with the band. Good-by!”

CHAPTER XVIII.
THE RESULT.

TALBOT had carefully marked out the
course he was to take. The pillar to which
Major Palmer was tied was about a hundred
- feet away, and one-half of this distance must
be passed over with no cover except that of
the slender vines which had overrun the ruins
and spread back to the trees. .

It looked like an impossibility to pass this
’ distance unseen, but the Mexicans were deep

 

 ..

 

in conversation and no actual lookout was
being kept.

The Ranger extended himself on the
ground and Jack’s pulses began to q_uickeu
as he moved from cover and began his dan-
gerous crawl.

The adventurer moved silently but rapidly,
drawing himself forward by means of the
vines, and every movement took him nearer
to the prisoner.

Jack Plunkett was greatly excited for one
of his naturally cool nature. He looked ner-
vously from Edwin to the Mexicans, and
every moment he expected to see the alarm
given.

Luck, or something more, must have been
with the gallant Kcntuckian, however, and
Jack breathed a sigh of relief as he saw him
reach the rocks and disappear.

So far all was well, but he was then fairly
among the enemy. and only a few feet sepa-
rated Palmer from the men in council.

A period of silence followed, but Jack
knew if Talbot was idle it was from a good
cause. He could no longer see him, but he
would not halt half~way in his undertaking.

The watcher’s eyes were on the major, and
when he saw the latter start, as though in
surprise, his own blood began to course with
increased rapidity.

Palmer looked quickly behind him, hesi-
tated, and then glanced at the Mexicans.
They were talking with animation, disput-
ing, if the signs were to be believed. and
when men begin to quarrel they are liable to
forget their duty.

Another moment, and the major moved
from his position, and Jack saw that he was
free from bonds. Talbot had not been visi-
ble, but he had evidently been busy. I

The prisoner looked again at the Mexicans
and then glided around the pillar and disap-
peared. ‘

Plunkétt could hardly avoid a shout of (le-
light, but the danger was not yet over.

Another pause ensued, and then he saw his
two friends appear at the edge of the ruins
and looked toward his cover. He wanted to
signal to them, but dared not.

The Texans dropped on' their hands and
knees and began to move rapidly toward the
cover of the chaparral, and the broad face of
Jack was all aglow.

Perhaps if they had used the former cau-
tion of Talbot, all would have been well, but
it is natural to retreat quickly and the wood
must have looked wonderfully friendly.

Half-Way across the open space a shout
arose from the ruins, the alarm cry of the
bafiled enemy, and at the first sound the
littangers bounded to their feet and ran for
1 e.

A few paces took them to cover, and,

>\

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

   
   
  
   
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
 

 

 

x
.

  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
  

       

went down, dead or disabled.

Kentuck Talbot’l Band.

   

   

29

 

though half a dozen bullets followed them
hissingly, no damage was done and the
major was caught in Jack Plunkctt’s arms.

It was, however, no time for sentiment.
The angry shouts of the Mexicans arose be-
hind them and they knew the pursuit would
be prompt and vigorous. Talbot thrust one
of his revolvers into Palmer’s hand and then
the flight was begun in earnest.

As they went, the major briefly told of his

captivity, which had not been particularly

unpleasant, and Jack chuckled over the
rescue like a boy.

Talbot said little, but his heart was lighter,
for he knew he‘had cleared his reputation
'with the Rangers.

The Mexicans were constantly heard in
the rear, but they did not gain per-ceptibly,
and at last the fort or knoll arose to the
View of the pursued.

A suppressed cheer arose from the Texans

'as they caught sight of their leader, but it
t was no time for idle words.

Palmer knew
the enemy would soon be upon them and
there was peril in delay.

A brief command from him sent every
man to his post, the Rangers obeying as

The thoughts of the latter were busy. He
had been tbld of the discoveries made by
Maxwell, and the fact that Ribera was in
their rear with the main body of the Mexi-
cans showed that the knoll would not long
be a place of safety. Eventif they managed
to hold it against assault, hunger and thirst
would soon conquer them.

This being the case, he resolved that if the
smaller party could be beaten off decisively,
they should promptly be followed and the
advantage turned into a rout. He believed
that, once at the old ruins, it much clearer
way would be found by which they could
leave the Chaparral. _ _ ' .

He had just finished explaining his Views
when the Mexicans came in sight. They
broke from the cover in a stragglingr line,
and then a cheer arose as they saw evidence
that the knoll was occupied.

The leader pointed to the breastwork with
his sword, shouted a command in Spanish,

” they always obeyed the major.

and then the guerrillas came bounding up

the ascent“. ‘

Palmer was in no hurry to give the word
for firing. Every one of his men knew how
to net: their rifles well, but he- was deter-
mined that no lead should be wasted.

,His signal came at last, and the Texans
fired with careful aim.

At that distance there could be but one re-
sult, and, as they had taken care that no two
men should aim at the same toe, the destruc-
tion was great, and one-half of the Mexicans

 

Then Palmer bounded over the breast-
work, sword in hand, and his dashing Ran-
gers followed.

Their appearance was enough to banish
what little courage was left the guerrillas.
Their leader had fallen, and those who re—
mained alive were only a sorry remnant. and
without lifting a hand to defend themselves,
they turned and fled madly for cover.

Palmer and his men followed closely, while
the others hastened the horses and began get—
ting them under way.

Talbot had hastened to the side of Berta,
but he hardly knew what to say to her. It
seemed wrong to take her from her friends,
and he said as much. but she declared that
she would follow the fortunes of the Ran-
gers, and he aided her to mount with a feel—
ing of pleasure at her decision.

The knoll was quickly left behind, and the
second detachment hurried along the path
after the major and his squad. They were
soon overtaken, for the Mexicans had disap-
peared, vanishing one by one into the denser
parts of the wood, and the Texans hurried on
toward the ruins.

Jack l’lunkett led the way, and he remem-
bered landmarks so well that when they
neared the ruins he recognized the fact and
advised caution before breaking cover. ,,

His precaution was a wise one, for, as he
and the foremost men peered through the
bushes, they saw that the glade was again oc-
cupied.

Between them and the broken walls were
a dozen men, and Berta started as she saw
that the. nearest of these were (laptainlth
here. and her father, Don Eduardo.

These two men were side by side, talking
earnestly, and it was evident from their man—
ner that the conversation was not an amica»
blc one.

What followed was plainly heard.

“Your stupidity has done all this,” said
Ribera, angrily, and they saw that he was _
still under theinfluence of liquor. “ lf we
had followed them promptly last night, not a
man would have escaped.”

"Very likely,” replied the old don, “and
my daughter would have been added to the
list of the slain.”

“ What of that?” snarled the guerrilla. ‘
“She is no better than any" other man’s
daughter, and she is a traitor to our cause.
She aided the Texan to escape.”

“By St. Catherine!" cried Don Eduardo,
“ I am tempted to strike you to my feet!"

“ Try it!” sneered Ribera. “ Or, perhaps
you had better send for reinforcements.
That was a brilliant idea of yours last night.
We were four to one, but you must urge the
plan of sending for more men, as though an
army was needed, and so give the invaders a

 

    
 

7"”“1‘” .‘

  
  
  
  
  
   
   
 

 
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
 
    
   
  
   
  
   
  
   
  
   

   
   

   
   
  
   

,, he courteously said.
, , men with gray hair, and you are as free as-

 

30

Kentuck Talbot’s Band.

 

chance to escape. Carejol I doubt your
own ood faith, old man!” ,

“ hat do you mean?” shouted Don
Eduardo.

“ I mean that you are a traitor.”

Only rum-madness would ever have led
the guerrilla to use such words, and no one
was surprised at the result.

In a moment the sword ,of Don Eduardo
flashed in the air, while his face was pale
from rage.

“Draw, coward!” he cried. “You shall
learn how a Del Rio can avenge an insult!"

Ribera jerked his sword from its seabbard
and the Weapons clashed angrily, while the
guerrillas looked on in dismay and indecision.

Under the cover of the bushes, however,
were men who were less at fault. They had
no res ect‘for Ribera’s rank, and they were re—
solve that he should not do harm to Del Rio.

Palmer looked at Berta and saw an im~
’ploring look on her pale face, but at that mo-
ment some one touched him on the arm.

He turned and saw Nathan Maxwell, and
a shiver passed over his frame. The life-
hunter looked like a veritable madman, and
his face was dark from passion.’

“ The hour has come!” he hissed. “ ltibcra
is the last of the assassins; let him die now!"

He held the red lasso aloft, and his teeth
looked like Wolf’s fangs between his parted
1i s.
p“ 80 be it,” said Palmer. with intense emo-
tion, and with these words be bounded

' through the veil of bushes and stood before

the astonished Mexicans.

One stroke of his sword sent Ribera’s
weapOn flying several yards away, and a sec«
and brought the ruflian half-stunned to his
knees.

By that time the other Rangers had ap-
peared, and the guerrillas started to flee, but
were stopped by the long rifles. .

Ribcra crouched on the ground, rubbing
his head in a confused way, while Don
Eduardo, with lowered sword, looked earn-
estly at Berta.

The girl hastened forward with extended

‘ hands. '

“ZForwive me, padre mic!“ she softly said.

The 0 d Don folded her in his arms tcn«
derl .
“)There is nothing to forgive, mz‘ querida,”
he said, “ and I am only too glad to see you
safe once more. Senor Texan, I am your
prisoner; what is to be‘my fate?”

Major Palmer was shrewd enough to read
more than the words conveyed.

“You are your'own master, Don Eduardo,"
“ We do not war on

any of us.”

_ ~ ‘ Sonar, you are a gentleman, and I should

be proud to be called your friend. The past
night has opened my eyes. and I know Ri—
bera for what he is—a ruflian and a coward.
He is a disgrace to the cause 1 love, and I
am forever done with his followers. Let me
now say that you are in great peril, and your
only hope is to leave here at once by the
northern path.”

“ We are all ready, Don Eduardo, but we
Would like your company if it will please
you.”

“ I will go with you," was the rely.

Palmer paused and looked at Iii era, but
at that moment Nathan Maxwell glided
forward. He held his red lasso in his hand
and his face was implacable.

“ Let our work be finished!” he s_0berly said.

” So be it! I will take Don Eduardo and
the lady to cover, and then do as you will.”

Ribera began to curse horribly, but Max-
well stood sternly over him until the bushes
closed behind Berta; then strong hands
Seized the ruflian, the red lasso was noosed
about his neck, and in three minutes he was
dangling from the branch of a tree.

Luke Brastow was avenged!

 

We need not write in detail any longer.

The advice of Don Eduardo enabled the
Texans to avoid any further danger, and,
when darkness fell, they were in a place of
comparative safety. ,

The haciendero and Berta left them there,
for they had decided to go at once to the cit
of Mexico, and avoid further experience with
guerrilla warfare, but the feelings of the Don
had undergone a great change and his heart
was warm towerd the Texans. '  ,

Talbot and Berta had a long conversation,
and when they parted, it was with the under-
standing that they should meet again at no
distant time.

After that came further peril and fighting,
in which all the Rangers participated, but
their adventures do not belong to this story.

The Kentuckian had cleared his name with
his companions and thereafter no one thought
of accusing him of disloyalt ’. Palmer gal-
lantly led the men to the on of the war. and
Jack Pl unkett and Maxwell bravely followed
his fortunes.

The life hunter recovered his cheerfulness
in a measure, but he was neveragain What he
had been before the death of Luke Brastow.

When peace was declared, Edwin Talbot
married Berta, with the full consent of her '
father, and faithful Brigida was present at
the ceremony. ' ,

Thus we leave our characters, with all .
happiness for the worthy, and with all good ‘
wishes for the patient reader, we write the V

 

last words of the story of the lien Lasso.“
. THE END. ‘ L ,

     

   

 

 

    

     
          
       
   
       
      
       
     
       
      
      
     
         
     
     
         
   
   
 
      
     
       
       
        
        
     
       
         
       
     
       
     
       
     
         
         
     
    

 

 

 

/ 32 OCTAVO PAGES. / PRiCE FIVE GEN TS
‘  y ' ’ I ‘
BEA E _ \—————————————-—

S

POCKET LIBRARY/g

 

 

 

   

  

 

 

 

acornmmmmmmmmutatetar/acornU:mewmwmmmmmmmmmmmmmwmmmmg‘g‘
x
1 Deadwood luck, the Prince of the Road. By (32 wm Somers. the Boy Detective. ny Clms. Morris.
Edward L- Wheeler. ' (:3 801 Ginger, the Giant Trimmer. By A. \V. Aiken.
2 Ken» a Klng; or, The Rad 3‘8“ “NHL By  Roseme Roll. By Edward L. \Vheeler.
Bull‘fllv Blur V ("3 Lvlszhtning Joe. By CuptninJ. F. C. Adams.
3 The Flynn; innhee. By Col. Prentiss Ingmhum. 66 hit urn-em“, the Wuod-llhwk. By ’1‘. C. Him
4 The Double lhuzgers. By [adorn-d L. Wheeler. mtg l.
6 The Two Detective? or, ’lhe Fortune: »1 n 6‘? Rollo, the Bnletnger. By Oil Gnomes.
Bowery Girl. llv AlberH . Aiken. ‘ 68 ldyl, the Girl Miner; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. By
6 The Prairie 1 llot. By lhdfnlo Bill. V Edward L. VVheeier.
7 The lhrlfulo Demon. ltdwnrd L. Vt healer. 69 Detective Dleh ; on'l'he Heroin Rugs. By Clmrlel
8 Antelo e Abe, the Boy ‘ rule. Br Oll Gnomes. ' Morris.
9 Ned vlde. “"8 Buy Stool. By “TexhsVJm-k.” 70 Sure Shot Scth,theBoyRiflemmi. llinlComneE.
10 llufl'nlo lien, Prince of the mam]. By la. L.“ healer. 1‘1 Slim-p Stun; or, The Adventures oquriendlt-ns Buy.
11 [ml h Roy. the B W l Iwcmleer. By C I. Ingmhum. By J. Alexander Putleu.
19 Niel? 0' the Night. By T- *3 Hflfibflutzh. 72 The Lion ofthe Sen. By Albert W. Aiken.
18 Yellowstone Jot-k. My Joseph b. Hadger, Jr. '38 Photograph I’hll,the no; Sleuth; or, Rosebud Rob‘s
14 wudIvun the Bay Clnnde Duvnl. By 1;. L.\Vheeler. licnyliexlrnncd ny E. .. Wheeler.
15 Dlnmond lurk; or, The Mystery of the Yellow- 7’4 I’leuyune Pete; or, Nicodexnua,the Dog Detective.
atone. By Collrllel Prentiss Ingrulmm. . By Charles Morris.
16 Kcewknll’e, Prince uf the~ l’rnlrim‘. ByOllCoomes. 75' Iilnnd Jlxn; or. The Pet of the anily. By Bruce-
17 ore r0“ Sol; or, Nick Wlntll- n‘e Boy Spy. By Capt. bridge l'lcmyng (Juth Ilorlmwny).
J, i3, 0. Adams . I '36 “attends”, the Shiniuw. is, Edward L. \Vheeler.
18 Denth—Fuee, lhe Detective. By E. L. Wheeler. 7? Dick Dead Eye. the Boy Srnngeler. By Col. 1’.
19 Lnsuo Jack, the. Ynnn: Mustuumr. llv on Commas. lnzmhnm.
20 lionrlnz Ralph Roekwood, the Rechlesa 78 Deadwood Dick’s Device. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
Hunger. Br llm-ry St. (it-urge. " T9 The Blank Blrlslnlrger. By Cum. hliryne Reid.
21 The Bov Clown. My Fruit“ 5. Finn. $0 (gld Frosty, the Guide. By T. C. Hurlmllp’h.
22 The Phantom Miller; M, Deadwood Dick’s bl ’lhe Sest‘ lper. By Col.Prentisslngrzthmn.
Bonanza. By Edwm-d L. Wheeler. 82 59le Jorleu;_or, The Cuptires of the Frontier. By
23 The semen“ wr, The \Viluil ut' Dnrieu. By Cnpt. Edward S. 191115.
Frederick \Vhittnker. 83 Cnnndn Chet, the Connterl‘eiter Chief. L’y Ednm-d
By 011 Conlnes. L. ‘hurler.
By Hurry St. George. 84 The Dumb Page; or. The Dogo‘s Dunghtm‘. By
the Annihilator. By E. L. “‘heeler. Capt. l in]. \‘Villtltti.t'.
? Glugg‘nge, t Greet Shut ot'the \l'eut. By Capt. J. 85 The Bo) Miners. liy lddw‘ rd S. Ellis.
F.C.Admna. 86 ank lhtrhnn’uy in New York. By Bruce--
2!; The Boy Onptnln. By Roger Sturbuck. brill Ie llvmyluz.
g9 luek puffing, the PonyExpreu Rider. By Captain 87 The (unam- (In itnln. By COLI’rentisl lngmhum.
traderlck Whittaker. 85 Deadwood Die ‘in Len ville; or, A Stnmgu‘
so no], Woolf, the Border Rnfl‘hm. By E. 1.. Wheeler, St «the for Liberty. By Edwth L. Wheeler.
V 31 Nlubtm .nle Nut». By T. C. llnrbangh. : 89 Bill Ridden, Trapper; 01-, Lite in the Northwest.
33 Black film. the Rand Agent. 13 J. E. Budget, Jr. liy Edward S. Ellis. '
88 (lmuhu (Ill, the Marsh (1 Terror. ‘i‘y E. L. Wheeler. 90 Tlupy, the Texan. By George Glensnn. ‘
v:  34 Burt Bunker, the Tm rev. By xeurxe E. Lmulle. 91 Jlnstruu: Sum, lllu King 01 the Plains. By Joe. E. ,
i 85 The Boy Rules 3 or, m Underground Cump. By Bridger, Jr. 1
i . A_ _ mm. 92 The, (Noun Bloodhound. By fi‘unnei W. Pearce.
I 86 The \Vhltc Bulfnlo. By (Emma )7. Lnsnlle. Elli l‘hll “only, the “05)! Buy. By . es Morris.
32' .Hm Bludme, Jr. By E. L. Wheeler. 94 Deadwood Dick on Deteetlve. it) .Whecley,

 

38 Nedlhmel,tim Boy Trapper. lly Cllpt.J.F.C.Adnme. 95 Buck lixlckrnlll. lly (‘nptuin J. F. (..

 

:.

nine.

39 Deadlfirfilye, the Unknown Smut. By lluffnln Bill. 96 (lllt- Edged Dirk. lly Edward l.. Wheeler.

i 40 Nlek mcu’n Pct. lw Cunt. J. F. C. Adams. 9'? The “look Steed of the Prairie”. Bv Jame.
’ 41 Deadwood Dick‘n Em: en; or, The Yard: of L. Howell. '
Flood Bar. By Eilunrd L. Wheeler. 93 The Eon Serpent. By Jnnn Lewis.
42 The Horde King. By Oil Comnel. 99 Rmumw Hlll, the firm Trucker. By E. L. when",

43 Old Hickory; or, l’uutly Ellis’n Scalp. By Hurry 100 Not. Todd;

St. George. Edward 5. E
44 The \Vlrll.%1ntll]u;|;cork'rli‘lie Scouts of the Yellow- 101 lsllnrlng llnvy; the Your“: Beur Killer. By Hurry ‘ ,

atone. ll n ut. . . ‘. ‘. tuna. ' . ‘adrge. . .
4:5 Buekhor’h ll]; or, The Rt“ Rm“ Tum“: By 102 The \ ellow Chief. By Capt. Mayne Reid. ,
Edwnrtl L. VVIIeeler. ‘ 103 Chip, the Girl Synrt. By Edwin] L. Vl'heoier. '
The Shadow Shlp. By COL Prelllm lllzrglhnm. 104 The "lack Schooner. By Roger Stun-hock. '
4’? The Red Brotherhood. By W. J. Hamiltnn. 105 llnrtduome'llar-ry, the 13‘ otblock Detoctlve. By

1' Thu an of the SlUllX (.‘uplive. By

   

7.

p
a

    

4S Dam! Jack or, The Outlaw of the Oregon Trail. (Linn-hes Moms.
By T.yC. Harbhnuh. 106 N Ight-II uwk K“; or, the Daughter of the Ranch.
1 49 Hurricane Bl“; or,Mu|tnng Smn and Hit“ Part1.” By Joe. E. llzlllm‘r, Jr.
By June h E. lindzer. Jr- 107 Juek llovle‘n Lend, By Edward L. Wheeler.
50 Single (and; or. A Life for a Life. By W. J. 108 Rock M‘onnluln kit. By '1‘. C. Hurbungh.
Hamilton. 109 The I ramled llmul. By anl: Dunmut.
51 Potent-leather Joe. By Philip S. Wurne. 110 The Drcml Rider. V By George W. Browne.
5% The Border Robin Hood; or,’l‘he l’rtlfliu Rover. Ill Bone llol). the K1112”! “tutti-legit“. “515.1. Vl’llee'er.
. ' B Ihrll'nlo Bill. 112 The llclplgnn "and. By (rank. Mayne (ma.
< ’: 58 Gold Rule, the Shnrpihooter. B E. L. W'heeler. 113 Sear-Face lhnnlf thehtlentllunter. lry OllCoulnel. ..
‘» - 64 0111 le’n (lubln: or,A Grant: on: in the Woude. 114 Plncy You]. Ille Nahum“) Bo -; or. The Lima r .
By Capt. J. F. c. Adam-if Rm 5 “5 lj'xrngv ug‘tl‘lle i‘fihrfli’nhiiks. lllly 'l‘.“7. :litlrbn‘xgih. I
, 55 De nwnr Die]: the oun er . 13 Oil en w t (t a on ) e. 2 .. ’ lee er.
r Comnu. ° ’ l 'E W y 116 Jubez Goflln. Skip xer. By Culvthl'. \\"hittnl<er.

56 Mad Tom Wet-tern. By W. J. Hamilton. 11? Fancy Frank, of 'nlnrnde. By
61' Deadwood Dlek on Deck;

Unintlo Bill.”
(Tulmnity Jame.
the Heroine of Whoop-Uri; By
onng

mini“ Wheeler. ' Issued Every Wednesday.

58 lgfivckeye Harry, the Trapper Ranger. By jgendgo’s Pocket lernry; is for little by all Nuwi~

.onmes. -. d, '1 cents we r ‘l  ‘ . ‘
m The Be Duelist; KB COL hang? Ingvmhnm. exiggécht pt opy, or Ian y llml on rtcaxptr ( But
at: Abe 00 t. the Crow- 'lef- B.‘ A H W- Mk8"- BEADLE .e ADAMS. Publishers,

0 rdnro Charlie. the Bay Bravo. B de- rib.
MM...’ X "I I » 98 Wllllom Street, New York.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

mini/350920309513

 

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/ 32 ocuvo PAGES.

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POCKET LIBRARY.

 

mi?

118 W ill \villlilrc, tho ’l‘imrnughhrcd. ily (‘hum Morris.

119 Bloudt- lilll' or, imidwond “with Home Bose.
iiy i‘ldwuni 1.. \ 'hi-cier.

120 Gopher Urid, llu: lluy'i'rnmwr. iiy'I‘. Clinrimugli.

121 Hurry Arumtrong, the. ('np'nin or the Club. By
iimcein‘iiigo umnyng, (Junk llurknwny.)

122 The Huntctl Hunter. By Edward S. Ellis.
1213 Soilli Sum, the lioy RuiuLAgelil. By E. L. Wheeler.
124: Judge Lynch. Jr. By '1‘. C. iiurhuugh.

125 The anl l’lruicn. By Capt. Mayne Raid.

126 Illuc Hinton; or, The Brcuk a‘ Day Boy: ofliocky
1m. 15y Fruuh i)u|nnnt.

127 Tony Fox, the Furret. ily Edward L. Wheeler.

1285 Block Benn, Will VVilllfiru’! Racer. Bv C. Morris.

1939 Bugle Kit, the Boy Duxunn. By Oli (70017123.

180 Gold Trigger, thu Spurt‘. By T. C. i'iurbnugh.

131 A “nine of Gold ; or, Deadwood Dick’s Big
Strike. My i‘hlwm'tl L. Wheeler.

1853 llninty Lulu-c, the Boy Sport. ByJ. E. Budgar, Jr.

133 “Hid-lire. the linssoi'lhe llomi. By Frank Dunnont.

134 Mike Ii’lerry, thu ilnrbor Police Boy. By C. Murril.

185 Delnlwood Dick 01' Dcndwood. By Edwurd
L. \\'heel¢!r.

136 0111 Rube, thu Hunter. By Cnleinmliton Holman.

137 Handy Rock, the Men from Texan. By G. Waldo
iimwno.

138 Bob Roche“. the Boy Dodger. By Chan. Murrin.

139 The. “luck Glnut; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy.
ny .ioiuph n. limlgvr, Jr. .

140 Onntniu Arimonn. By Philip S. Wilma.

14.1

New York Noll, the Boy-Girl Detective. By
Edwurxl 1.. Wheeler.

Little Tcxnu,the Young Mustang". Dy Oil Coomea.

142

143 Homily Dnnh; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. By
Jon. E. hulgur, Jr.

144 Little lrlt. tho \Viid Rider; or, llfianle, thoStock

'l‘unilur’u Dung. or By Col. i’rontisx lngruluun.

The Tiger oi'TnorA. ily Goo. \Vuldo Browne.

’l‘hc (‘nitlc King. By Frank Dumont.

1—17 Nohby Nick oi'N't-vmlu. ily Edward L. “'hecler

1-18 'l‘hululcrholt. Tom. By liarry St. Georg".

119 Bob lhwkoli. tho Bunk Runner. By C. Motrin.

150 The Mini .\i incr. By (2. Wuhlo llrvnvno.

151 The Foo. 'i‘I'ulli-r. By (Jul. Prentiss lugrnhmu.

152 Dumiy Duri ; or,’i‘ho Tiguru oflligh I’ine. By
\i'illiilili ii. r.

153 “'1” Fruuk, tho But-ksle Bravo. E. L. Wheaier.

154 The lloy ’l‘rnilcrn. By Jon. E. Bridger, Jr.

155 (will l’lumo, the iiny Bandit; or,Thu Kid-Glove
Sport. iiy (Er-i, i'rcnliss ingmhmn.

156 “'ill “'ildiirc ill the “'omln. By C. Morris.
157 Ned Tcinplo, the ilnrdur Boy. By T. (7. linrhnugh.
158 Deadwood Dick‘s Doom. By E. L. \Vheaier.

159 l’ntont-Lcntiu-r Joc’n lici‘cut. By Philip. S.
ili’llli.

1(i0 ihli'l'ulo Billy, the Buy Buliwhacker. By Col. 1’.

ingrahum.
161 Boh liockctt, the Crncluman. By C. Morris.
167% Little Hurrivnnc, the Boy Cuptniu. By Oil

(/‘Immcs.
108 iicudwood Dick's Dream. By E. L. Wheeler.
16 l 'i‘orundo ’I‘olu. By T. C. i-lnrhnugh.
165 liuii’ulo Bill’n Hot. By Cal. Prentiu lngmhnm.
166 Will “lildilre “"1113 and Logos. By C. Morrln,
16’? ihmdy Rock’s l'ladze. By Gwrgo W. Brown;-

145
146

 

mmvimé'ciwmmmmmmmwmmmmmwwmmmcnmmmmmmmmm

168 Deadwood Hick’n “'urd- or Th Bl k '
Jezebel. iii-15.1mmL.wn.nLr.’ " M "'H'

169 Tim, Boy Champion. By Edwurd “’iiielt. _
170 Bob Rockett’s Fight for Life. By C. Morris.
171 Frunk Morton, tlm lioy Hercules. By OllCoDmul.
172 The Yankee Ranger. By Edwin Eim-i'smi.
178 Dick Dingle. Scout. By Edwards. Ellis,

174 Dandy Rock’s Scheme. By G. W. Browne.
175 The Arnb Detective. By Edwurd 1.. Wheeler.
176 “Til “’iidflrc’a Pluck. By Clmrioa Norm. _
177 The Boy Commander. ByCoiJ’rontiulngrnhum.
178 The DIunlnc Hunter. By Burton Suxe.

179 Dnlnty‘ Lance; or, The Mystic Alarkanmn. By
Jon. E, Budget, Jr.

1540 The Boy Gold-Hunter. By T. C. Hurlmugh.
181 The Svupcgrncc Son. By Charlie! Morris.

18% The Dork-Skinned Scout. By Lieut. Col.
Hilleltinu.

133 Julioz Dart, Dotectivn. By Oli Cnomm.
194 Featherweight, the Boy Spy. By Edward Wilictt-

185 Binon Bill, the Overland Prince. By Col. Prentiss
Innmhxun.

186 Dniniy Lance and His I’m-d. By Joseph E.
Bmigur, Jr. .

187 The ’l‘roppcd Tiger King.

188 The Ventriloqulst Detective.
\Vllcl‘iur.

189 01d Rocky’- Boys.

190 film Rimpklnn, Scout. By Jnmes 1.. Bowen.

191 Bondy Roek‘n Rival. By Geo. “'uhlo Browne.

1991 Hickory Hurry. By Hurry St. George.

198 Detective Joni: Grim. By Edwurd 1.. Wheeler.

194 Prospect Pete, the Boy Miner. By Oil Cooiucl.

195 The Tendcrfoot Trailer. By T. Cfiiarbnugh.

196 Tire‘nandy Detective. By Charles Morris.

19’? Roy, the Young Cuttie King. By Cul. P.1ugmhmn.

198 Ebony Duu’n Mnnk. By Frank Dunmnt.

199 Dictionary Nut, Detective. By T. C. iinrbnugh.

200 The Twill Horsemen. By Capt. F. Whiltuker.

201 Dnndy Dru-he’s l’nrdn. By qu. it. Eystor.

202 Tom, tho Texan Tiger. By Oil Canines.

208 Sum, thu Office Boy. By Charles li’lorril.

204 The Young Cowboy. By Col. 1’. lngrahnm.

205 The Frontier Detective. By E. L. Wheeler.

206 “'hite Lightning; or,’i‘hc Buy Ally. By T. C.
ilurb rug 1.

207 Kent-uni: 'I‘nlbot’n Bond: nr, Tim Red Limo,
iiy Capt. Mark “'liton.

208 Trupper Tom’n (lustre Mystery. By 011
Coonlel. Rundy Jununry 4. .

iiy Charla Morrla.
By Edwurd L.

By Maj. Soul. 5. Hall.

By Chuiel

209 ’liho Messenger-Boy Detective.

rm 3 Randiv Jpnunry ii.
210 The llunoh mok nt’ihc Mines. By Joaeph E.
Butlrgcr. Jr. Rifiilly .innuRry 18.
211 Little (Hunt; und His Bond.
Runnly .innunry ‘15.
212 The Jimtown Sport.
Rcudv February 1.

By 1‘. S. Womb.

By E. L. Wheeler.

Issued Every Wedncndny.

Bendio’u Pocket Library in for min by nil Nov"-
deniors, live cent! yer copy, or rent by mail on receipt 0! ll:
cant: each. _ ~

BEADLE & ADAMS. Publishers,
98 “'iliimn Street, New York.