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Copyrighted. 1886, by BIADLI AND Ann's. Entered m. the PM: Omce at New Yurk. N. Y.. in: Second Clnu Mail Manor.

 

Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams,
No. 93 WILLIAM 81.. NEW YORK.

$2.50
a Year.

l’rlee,
Five Cents.

Vol. X.

April 25.18146.

No. 120.

 

 

 

 

GVPHER GID RAISED BIS REVOLVER. AND FIRED AT THE LIVING TARGET.

 

 

  

Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper.

 

Gopher Grid,
THE BOY TRAPPER;

OB,
Midnight J ack. the Road-Agent.

 

BY T. C. HARBAUGH,

AUTHOR or “NICK 0’ THE NIGHT,” “NIGHT-
‘ INGALE NAT,” arc, ETC.

 

CHAPTER I. _
ran WHISKY-SMUGGLER’S msnnr.

“ LINCHPIN lost i—wheol off l~broke—down i”

In a. dark little valle , lying nearly midway
between Fort Sully an Deadwood, and not far
from the Cheyenne River, one of those curses of
the Far West, a gin—trader or smuggler, had
met with an accident.

The rather cumbersome vehicle which his
double mule team had drawn from the banks of
the Missouri, had not nly lost a lincbpin, but
the wheel. in rolling 0 had upset the wagon, to
thdinetrievalde damage of the spindle.

The face of the trader was a ludicrous ad-
mixture ofwrath and despair, and the manner
in which he contemplated bismisfortune, told

- plainly that he had not the'power of setting
matters ari ht.

“ Now, w at hev I done to lose a linchpin at
the very time when they ar’ a—dyin’ fur whisky
at Deadwood?” he said, mournfully. “Must a.
man what tries to make an honest livin’ be ruin-
ed by a. bu'sted spindle? An’, just as I said be-
fore,when drinks is on the rise at Deadwood,
an’ when everybody is lookin’ fur me an’ the
car 0] Things was goin’ alonz swimmiul-like,
an’ war countin’ up the profits when, kerc buck!
went tbe_wheel. an’ I came down like a spe:‘u-
latex-is ho es. Whoa!” and he bestowed a savage
kick in t e flanks of the nearest mule. “Turn

syer head the other way, an’ don’t look round,
with a twinkle in yer eye, as if to say, ‘ Serves
ye ri ht, Tanglefoot!” The way uv the right-
eous fie hard. One hundred and sixty dollars’
wu’th of whisky; an’ broke down when the boys
is as dry asa herrin’l”

To‘ 6111 hasize his wrath. the whisky—smuggler
itrugk t a wagon heavily with his clinched

an . .

The blow seemed to relieve his perturbed
spirits, and he further soothed them by, taking; a.
long draught from a. demijohn. which he fished
from the mysterious depths of the wa on.

The shadows of a brief summer twi 'ght were
telling about the unfortunate man. The trail
which he had been followinr: toward the west
wee'one not unknown to him, for more than
once he had'carried a cargo of the vilest brand
of whisky over it. He knew the country, too,
Was that Wholly unfrequented by road-agents and
moraudinz Indians, to whom his cargo would

ve the richest of prizes.

With the butt of a revolver visible above the

,waistband ~01 his heavy duck trowsers, Timon

Moss, or Old Tangletoot, as he was called, from

r

 

the character of his following, surveyed the
wreck of his wagon.

He was a broad-shouldered, heavily-set man,
of two—nn'l-t‘orty, whose face did not belie his
occupation. His eyes were small, and almost
hidden by bloated checks, between which rose
the reddest of noses. His garments consiscd of
a faded cavalry jacket, minus the trimmings,
which, open in front, and much too short, dis-
played the dil'ty bosom of a check shirt. He wore
dark-brown trowsers of heavy ducking, the
nether ends of which were stuifcd into the tops
of a pair of formidable boots, run down at the
heels, and split at the tons for the case of multi-
tndinous corns. Aslouchedhat completed the
smuggler’s attire, and the shock of dark hair
which peeped from under the greasy brim,
mourned the lengthy absence of a comb.

The little eyes, however, were twinkling, and
full of that kind of cunning which the whisky-
smuggler of the frontier must bring to his as-
sistance. if he would thrive.

And Timon Moss had thriven. True, ho had
no bank-account, but he had amassed quite a
little fortune in the precarious trade of whisky-
smuggling, at which more than one blue—coated
Government official hvd winked. Just where he
kept his money nobody knew; but not a soul
doubted that 'lilnon had, notwithstanding his
own ruinous habits, a snug fortune on which he
could retire at any day.

Besides his cargo of liquid death, Old Tangle-
foot carried man other thin to Deadwood—
packages on whic he charg‘ an extortionate
freight, and not a few letters.

Therefore, on the day when the breaking of the
s indie on the very spot of all others between

ort Sully and Deadwood which the smuggler
hated and feared, he had much of this miscel-
laneous matter on board. During the trip the
demijohn had been emptied several times, and
Timon had treated no one, either.

“I must git out 0’ this valley of misfortune
somehow or other.” the smuggler said, seeing the
shadows deepening about him. “ Jest four miles
further on, an’ the old wagon might ’a’ broke
an’ be hanged. Bless me! if I’ll stay hyar to-
night! Why, hyar’s whar the Sioux fell on
Brady’s boys, an’ took their scalps, an’ also
hyar‘s the spot where the Regulators pulled Red
Bob an‘ pard up.”

The memory of these lawless occurrences was
enough .to stimulate ‘Tanglefoot toraction, and
unhitehmz the mules, ho inaugurated a hunt for
a piece of timber, which he hoped to transform
into a drag to serve in lieu of the wheel.

Armed with an ax, Timon was not long in
finding the desired stick. and when with the aid
of straps and chains he had secured it to his
satisfaction, the last streak of day left the val-
ley, and the pale light of the stars took its place.

Then, with a self-congratulatory pull at the
demijohn. Timon hitched up the mules again.
tossed the useless wheel into the wagon, and
sprung to his accustomed plat-e. ,

The swearing, the cracks o! the villainous
whip over the heads of the patient beasts, and
their desperate efforts to pull the vehicle. made
upasoene never witnessed before by the ’
that surrounded the little valley.

“ Git ep 1, you stubborn Injun—colored bruteel”

 

 

 

 

 

 

      
 

 

    
 
  
   
  
   
    
 

 

 

Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper. 8

 

cried Timon, who, standin on the seat, was

dealing the mules inhuman b ows with the cut-

ting lash. “Must the righteous suffer thus jest

because whisky is risin’ at Deadwood. an the

stock’s nearly exhausted? Oh! murder! go on,
‘est four miles, an’ I’ll give ye all the feed on
card!”

But he cursed, struck and pleaded in vain.
The heavy drag obstructed progress, and though
the faithful mules pulled With all their strength,
they could not draw the wagon over ten feet at
an effort.

“Thirty miles from a bushel of gold, an’
bu’sted!” roared the smuggler in despair, spring-
in from the box.

fi'hen he threw his hat upon the round, and
executed upon it a dance which mig it have sug—
gested the idea which seemed to afford an ave-
nue to prosperity.

” Bless me, if I don’t lighten the load! They
do that when a ship‘s in trouble at sea, an’ the
shilp Timon Moss jest now is in a. fearful strait.
Sa tgeter an’ soda! the thing is reasonable. I
kin x up a story between hyar an’ Deadwood.
Fell in with Midnight Jack or the Sioux. either
one will do, but the Midnight Jack story will
look more likely.

With the thought of lighteninfi his load giving
a triumphant twinkle to his ttle dark eyes,
Timon sprunfilinto the wagon and cast his eyes
around upon '5 motley cargo.

Ten whisky—kegs, With a single exception full
to the bung, formed the principal part of the
load; then there were sundry boxes andpack—
ages, consigned to citizens of Deadwood, among
them the legs of a billiard table, and the nucleus
of a library which “some eastern chap” was
goin to start in the mining-town.

“ an’t throw any of the licker overboard!”
Timon said, with settled emphasis. “ Thar’s
them confounded books, consigned to that ion -
ha’red chap who says that our great grand—
mother was an ape. I’ll tell him that the In-
'uns took ’em from me to start a sarculatin’
library on the Pawnee Loup, an’ if he objects to
the statement we’ll lay ’im out with his boots
on. A library at Deadwood!” and Tanglefoot
laughed as the consignment was pitched over-

“ Thar goes our great grandmother, the ape!”
said Timon, and for the next ten minutes the
lightening of the cargo went on. But the whisky
was not touched, and the only articles which re-
mained in the wagon beside it were consign-
ments to the gamblers and other sporting men

7 of Deadwood.

“Two hundred (pounds lighter, my longeared
pards!” ejaculate Timon, over whose florid
face the evidence of his exertion was tiring.
“ Now a last pull at my straw-colored ird, an’
then I’ll say ho! for the sun-dance, or ho! for
Deadwood. I can’t make up my mind.”

Old Tanglefoot’s hands flew eagerly to the
demijohn incased in a network of split willows,
and he was in the act of lifting the often-touch-
ed nozzle to his lips, when a human voice made
him start. . _

“ I say, stranger, ain’t ye losin‘ a right smart
bit 0‘ yer cargo ’

The voice while it uttered the words just
written in the style of the frontier, was not

 

rough, like an ill-bred man’s, but musical and’.
sweet as a child’s. .

The dcmijohn almost drop (1 from Tangle-
foot’s hands, and he retreatec from the boyish
countenance which, full of health and good-hu-
mor appeared at the rear end of the wagon.

“ ou appear to be losin’a good bit of yer
load. I say,’ said the same pleasant voice again.
“ What is up? an’ whar ye bound?”

“Bound to start these mules,” was Tangle-
foot’s reply. “ I lost the cargo on purpose, fur
I’ve broke down. I say, youngster, ye’re
devilish inquirin’; but git out an’ leave me ‘
alone.”

But the face did not stir. If Timon had look—
ed closely, he would have seen the mischievous
eyes laughing at the figure which he cut. ,

“Git out an’ be] yerself to what I’ve drop-

d!” said Tnnglc oot, imperatively, and then

e added to himself:

“’Twon’t do! It might sp’ile the Midnight
Jack story.”

The next moment, with his hand on the butt
of his “navy,” Timon Moss glided across the
he s toward the boy. ‘

Say, what’s er name?" he asked, grumy.

“ Iguess it’s opher Grid, an’ I’m not afraid 0’
anybody in the Cheyenne country.”

‘Ain’t, eh?" hissed Timon. ‘ We! the rea-
son is because you’ve never met Old Tanglefoot
before. Do ye ever go to Deadwood?”

“Been there once!” answered the boy, who
showed signs of retreating from the basilisk eyes
of the whisky-smuggler.

“Then, by the spirit of Bacchus! ye’ll never
go thar ag’in l” ‘

The revolver full cocked and tightly griped
by hands that had wielded it before, shot from
its sheath, and the boy with a cry of fright dis-
appeared in an instant.

‘ Can’t git away that easy!” grated Timon.
“ Blast in cargo! if you‘ shall go to Deadwood
an’ sp’ile e Midnight Jack story.”

The whisky-smuggler leaped from the wagon
as the last sentence e11 from his lips.

‘His murderous eyes instantly caught sight of
his intended prey, and, with a roar not unlike
that of a jungle tiger he darted forward.

But the next moment the western villain axe;
outed a sudden half. for a loud cry came down
from the shadows above:

“Whoopee! I’m the Screamin’ Eagle of the
Smoky Roost! I’m a genuine death on his pale
hoss, an’ I kin ,whip my weight in Injuns’an’~
Wild-cats twenty times a day. Cl’ar the track! ,
I’m the Thunderbolt of the Dark-edged Cloud! 8.
reg’lar skyscraper!”

Such were the words that halted Old Tangle—‘
foot, and, revolver in hand, he looked up, as if
he expected to see the speaker leap upon him
from the hills overhead.

CHAPTER II.
THE KING or THE TRAIL.

TIMON Moss, the whisk -smuggler, while in-
venting a story with whic he hoped to explain
the absence of much of his motley car oupon
his arrival at the capital of the Black Hills,
gave audible utterance to a name well known in
the Great West, at the time f which we write.

Let us turn to the owner 0 the cognomen.

 

 

.‘ the internal town, and dri

 

Gopher Grid. the Boy Trapper.

 

Midnight Jack was a prince among daring
road-agents. He was noted for his uniform
successes, his devilish bravery, and his hatred
of double dealing. _

The various trails leading from the Govern-
ment stations along the Missouri to the Black
Hills comprised his operating grounds, and
more than one stageless and mailless agent had
made his appearance at Deadwood with the
old story of misfortune which had ecome an
old song. ,

Tall and handsome affecting the dress of the

. Sicilian brigands, with a mass of dark hair fall-
ing to his shapely shoulders, this pest of the
road was the most freqluently—mentioned men
in Dakota. He was stil youn , and the plun-
dered agents whose lives he ad spared said
that he was nothing more than a mere boy.
Though never seen in Deadwood, en costume,
his personal appearance was well known to ev-
ery citizen. They knew that there was a

ease-spot on the left side of his sombrero-
ike hat~that he wore a cavalry-button on his
right shoulder, and that a few links of a gold
watch-chain hung from his black courser’s bit.

'Thus described, let us seek Midnight Jack,
and for ourselves learn something of this west—
ernClaude Duval.

_ About the time when the ungenerous linch—
pin cast Old Tan lefoot a-wreck in the little
valley, Midnight ack rode upon the trail not
many miles from the scene we have just left.

, He sat like a born horseman in the handsome
Mexican saddle, and as he looked to the east, he
removed his hat and pushed a mass of silken hair
back from his forehead. His arms consisted of
two heavy revolvers, whose butts protruded
from his belt, and ahandsome Ballard repeating-
rifle was swung upon his back.

“The old curmudgeon has passed this place
with his cargo,” the road-agent said, in a voice

unlike that which highwaymen are popularly

supposed to possess. “ I don’t want to plunder
him of his whisky tonight. If he was going the
other way it would be another thing. Let him
take his cargo out and sell it. When he comes
back. I’ll tap the mine.”

Midnight J ack’s eyes glittered with anticipated
triumph over the whisky-smuggler who at that
moment was cursing the ill-luck of a break-down,
and the'next minute as he freed some of his
steed’s dark mane from the thralldom of the
bridle-rein, he continued in a disappointed tom:

“Times are dull, Quito,” and he patted the
horse’s neck to see the large ahd beautiful eves
turned affectionately upon him. “‘ If something
lucky doesn’t turn up soon, We’ll go down and
try the Santa Fe routes awhile. There’s where

‘they catch the silver covevs. and the pretty
/ Mexican senoritas with moré beauty than chink.
., Wouldn’t Deadwood reioice‘ to know that we
had left the country? h. , they’d illuminate
themselves crazy.
Well, we’ll give them notice of our removal by
' posting it on the trees." .

The road-agent addressed his horse With a
grim humor that exhibited itself in his eyes, and
the darkness tell about him as he spoke.

', He had halted in an open part of the country,
and the stars, as they glowed brilliantly in the
heavens above, showed him the trail which he

1"

 

hadtmade dangerous for some distance east and
wes . '

“ Nothing here to—night. We’ll go i”
The Dakota brigand was about turning awn
when the crack of a whip not unlike the shri 1
report of a distant rifle fell, upon his ears, and
his eyes at once lighted up with the excitement

that attends his calling.

“ Not so barren after all, Quito,” he hastily
whispered to his horse, and galloped forward
to a tree which, not far away, stood lonely be-
side the trail. I

Then, with one of the huge revolvers cocked,
in his right hand, Midnight Jack kept his eyes
fastened down the road, over which some kind
of a vehicle was lumbering.

Louder and shriller resounded the Whip, never
for one moment at rest, and a puzzled expression
of countenance settled on the road—agent’s face
as he rose in his heavy wooden stirrups, eager to
see the approaching team.

All at once a wild cachinnation, followed by a
series of fiendish yells, drowned the reports of
the whip, and the situation was instantly ex-
plained to the roadvagent.

“Indians, Quito!” ejaculated Midnight.
“They’ve struck a prize I'D-night, and they‘re
making merry over it. When the wild Sioux
turn teamstors, look out for fun!”

The wagon—for the noise told the keen senses
of the road-agent that but one four-Wheeled
vehicle was approaching—continued to rattle
over the not very smooth road, accompanied by
real Indian yells. .

At last and almost suddenly it came in sight,
and Midnight Jack saw a scene for which he
was not wholly unprepared.

A common wagon, to which four strong-limb-
ed mules were harn' ssed, greeted the brigand’s
eyes. On each of the hindmost boasts sat a half-
naked Indian, whose hands griped articles en-
tirely strange to them—4whip and lines. Nor
was this all. At least ten savages were crowded
into the bed of the vehicle, danclng like fiends,
and filling the air with those wild sounds which
had so often assailed the ears of Midnight Jack.

They had evidently imbibed liquor in no in-

considerable quantities, and they were pushing,

each other about in their drunken orgies, threat-
ening to overturn the wagon or frighten the
mules. already ungovernable, into a runaway.

Midnight took in the situation in aim-instant.

“The red devils have stolen our trade, Quito,”
he said. between clinched teeth, and with a
smile. “ They’ve turned road-agents—infringéd
on our patent, as it were. I don’t intend to
stand it. I’ve declared war against the whites,
and I might as well begin it with the reds. You
mean, dirty skunks! I’ll put an end to your
frolic by giving you tickets to dead-land.”

The wagon lumbering over the road had now
reached a point almost directly abreast of the
still unseen road—agent, and, as hls hands shot
up, a navy” tightly clutched by each. his well-
known “ halt!” spoken in dee thunder—tones,
fell upon the ears of the carousmg Indians.

In an instant of time, as it seemed the orgies
were hushed, and the savage who had the lines,
rising in the stirrups, jerked the lead mules up-
on their haunches, and prepared to leap to the
ground.

‘tha- .

L‘s": 1‘ .
5

 

 

 

 


7

 

Gopher Gid. the Boy Trapper.

 

But the quick eye and trigger of Midnight
Jack saw the action and check it suddenly.

The stricken brave fell back upon the mule,
shot through the eye, while his com union with
the whip. kissed the road before t is report of
the first dead shot had died away.

Now ensued a scene of confusion.

The terrible doom of their comrades appeared
to sober the remaining Indians in the twinkling
of an eye. There was a rush for the sides and
end of the vehicle, now standing stock-still in
the road, but death overtook them before they
could esca . The few who left the vehicle did
so with b lets in their bodies, and never mOVed
after the alighted on ter’rafirma. ,

Midnig tJack shot with the coolness of a
Gatling.

The deadly pistols continued to pour their
leaden messengers into the wagon, until the last
red reveler pitched over the dash, and uivered
in the agonies of death beneath the bee s of the
mules.

“Playing road—agent doesn’t lpuy when In-
dians try it” smiled the victor, oolring at his
deadly wor as he calmly proceeded to re-
charge the chambers of his )istol.

When he had reloaded t e formidable wea-
pons he rode up to the was on, speakin kindly
to the team as he passed by, and look around
upon the half—nu ed savages lying in the
road.

“ I kind 0’ piled them in the wagon, I guess,”
he murmured, approaching the vehicle, over
whose side he leaned.

The brilliant stars revealed a ghastly sight,
for the wagon seemed filled with dead.

But something besides the hideous red faces
suddenly attracted the road-agent’s attention,
and with a dazed “It can’t be!” he thrust one
arm forward and pushed a savage aside.

“ By the gold of Ophirl a girl l" he cried, and
with the exclamation ringing from his lips,
Midnight Jack leaped from the saddle and land-
ed in the wagon. .

A moment sufficed to hurl the dead Indians to
one side, and when the bandit rose from a
steeping [Fosition he held a female figure in his
arms. an was lookin into the whitest and the
loveliest face his eyes ad ever beheld.

It was so white it was deathlike: there were
nosigns of life about it, and a flash of resent-
ment lit up Midnight Jack’s eyes as they wan-
dered from it to the Indians lying dead on every
side.

In the excitement of the moment, the bandit
did not notice that the girl’s ankles were bound
together; he was gazing into the white face. .

As he looked, his own face assumed a Wild
expression; the ruddy color departing, left it as
white as the one he held in his arms.

“Merciful Heavens!” he cried; “I cannot be
mistaken. If she is really dead, 1’1] exterminate
the yrhole Sioux nation. ’ll make their land a
land of blood. Ahl Golden George Will never
carry out his threat now. Better dead, Dora,
than his. But, why did you Come out here?
Wake up! open your eyes and tell me about
father. Am I cursed yet? Are you dead in my
armsll I’ll leave the road now—leave it forever.
The red devils shall curse the night they killed
Midnight J ack’s sister l”

CHAPTER III.
THE INDIANS WIN.

“I’LL wipe out the whole Sioux nation for:
this deed of blood 2”

Midnight Jack set his teeth hard behind this
VOW.

He still stood in the unknown wagon amid the
dewl Indians, and with the inanimate form of
his strangely found sister in his arms.

As yet the girl exhibited no signs of life; the
beautiful face, cold and marble-like, met his
gaze with no return of ex rossion, save that for-
bidding one of death. f the road-agent had
laid his pistol-ha in] over the heart he would have
detected a faint movement which would cause
his Own to loop for joy.

But, in his zinger and his thoughts of dark re-
venge, he never thought of this.

After awhile Midnight crawled from the
wagon with his beautiful burden, which be de-
posited gently upon a rich, soft plat of grass that
seemed to invite its sleeper.

Then he methodically but quickl unhnrnessed
the mules, and with a word an a blow.sent
them toward the valley where other scenes con-
nected with our story were occurring. .

This done, the I'oad-ugent threw the dead
Indians from the wagon, and sought ea erly but
vainly for something that might tella
sister.

An empty whisky-keg was the only thing left

sparks of living fire when he thought of the
cruel‘y to which his sister had been subjected
by the drunken fiends. But he had slain them
in the midst of their fiendish triumph. There

and Deadwood.

an audible word dropped from Midnight Jack’s
lips: but his flashing eyes spoke volumes.

All at once he began to toss the bodies back
into the wagon, nor did he stop until the twelve
lay in a ghastly heap in the bed.

Then he drew a piece of “ keil " from his
pocket and wrote on one side of the vehicle
these words:

“Killed by Midnight Jack. This is but the
beginning. Uncle Sam won’t have to feed the
Sioux much longer. Blood for blood!’ , .

Midnight Jack was satisfied with this writin’g(
and as be turned again to the lithe figure ‘reposr
ing on the graSS he said: ‘

inscription l” .

When he remounted his charger which had
watched its master with almost human interest,
the body of Dora lay in his arms, and Midnight
Jack rode from the scene of his exploit.

said to himself. unconsciously speaking aloud as
he galloped lightly away. “She used to like'
green leaves—when she was a little girl; and—
blesqimel what was I saying? Isn’t she a girl

et O
y A. faint but pleasant smile illumined the road-
agent’s face as he azed upon the cold, expres-
sionless features of is charge.

“ Yes, she died before the evil days had time .
to fast/an upon her.

 

become of her in this Godless country? But

ut his

in the wagon, and the bandit’s ’eyes flashed ‘ V ‘

were twelve red scoundrels less between Sully-y: ‘ ‘

While engaged as we have just described, not ' i I

“I mean every word—every letter of that \

“It’s the prettiest place I can lay her,”'he \ 1

Mercy! what would have 

 

 

8 Gopher Gid. the Boy Trapper.

 

what brought her away out here, anyhow? I’d
give my very life to know.”

Talking in this and a like strain, the road—
agent did not seem to note the progress of his
horso; but he suddenly spoke to the animal,
which came to a halt in a beautiful spot not far
from the banks of the Cheyenne.

Indeed, if the bandit Would have sent his gaze
through the little gap almost directly before
him, he might have seen the moonlit waves of
the tortuous western river.

Several hours had passed since his encounter
with the red—skins. The queen of night had
risen from her couch, and was flooding the land
of Indian and bear with her soft silvery light
which gave the trees a new foliage, and the wa-
ter newer beauty. .

If the valley in which Midnight Jack had
halted was beautiful at night, how much love-
lier must it have appeared at day with the sun
to lighten up every shady nook, and exhibit its
many flowers and birds?

“This is the place for you, Dora,” the road-
agent said, addressing the fair girl whom he
had carried to this bewitching spot. “ I’ll visit
your grave every day, and death shall be the
portion of the fiend who ventures to despoil it.
New for the secret home. I saw it the other
day, though it was well hidden. The boy has
not come back I at, I think, for I saw him down
near Brier For at sundown, and he had no
horse, either. However, he’s an innmentrlmk-
ing cuss, ‘I take it; perfectly harmles . l"

A few moments later. Midnight Jack leaped
to the ground at the foot of a rugged hill cov-

' ered With a dense undergrowth and apparently

inaccessible. But his keen eyes descried a path
which seemed to lead to the top, and up this he
1sprung. ‘

A few bounds brought him to a strong door
fixed seemingly in the hill. and adri >itlv conceal—
ed by a variety of wild grape-vines which hung
from above.

" I knew it was here!” said the road-agent.

‘ ,:satisfled with his exploration. “ Now I’ll see if
' I '.the youngster is at home.” ‘

The door, being unlocked, yielded to his touch,
uni a dark opening appeared. He drew slight-
1y fimclitk, and with a. coc ed revolver in his hand
ea c :

“Halloo, my boy! If you’re at home come
out. Eor I’ve a bit of business to transact with
you.

‘ His voice seemed to penetrate every corner of

. the cavern, but elicited no res onse.

Midnight entered the hole in the ground and
attack a lucifer, which for several moments
illuinined the place. showing him that it was
the dwelling of a hu'uan being for several rude
articles of furniture lay aroun ; as well as a’ lot

, Hot new skins, a pickax and a spade.

These last-mentioned articles the young road-
agent hailed with delight, and before be cast
the match, burned-to his fingers, on the floor, he
down upon them. .

“I’ bring them back. my boy.” he said, as if
addressing the owner of the implements, and a
moment later he reached the door.

' A glance showed him his horse at the foot of
the‘hill. At the faithful animal‘s feet he had

 

deposited the burden he had sorrowfully borne

‘from the battleground on the Deadwood trail.

But, for the shadows, he could not see it now.

A broad ray of moonlight fell upon the vines
that covered the entrance to the hill-homo, and
as Midnight Jack, with s ade and pick on his
shoulder, emerged from he place, he uttered a
cry which was an oath.

Something had whizzed past his check, and he
turned to see the barbed end of an Indian arrow
protruding from the vines; the iron shaft had
buried itself in the planks of the door.

“Thunder and rifles!” ejaculated Midnight
Jack, and as the implements glided from his
hands, he drew his repeating rifle. “The red
devils are going to give me more exercise. Well,
they shall find that I am eager to keep up the
work I began lac-night.”

‘Another shaft cut short the sentence, and the
road-agent saw that it sped upward from the
depths of the little valley, and just beyond his
horse which, with head erect, had snuffed the
prowling foe.

“They’ll open with bullets soon!” grated the
road—agent through clinched teeth, and then,
with a thought of the girl, he sprung down
the hill.

He had surmised correctly, as the next mo—
ment told him, for the sharp cracking of Indian
rifles saluted his ears, and he went backward like
a stricken man.

“ Not dead yet, you donsi” he cried, recover-
ing just as his horse SUIfiK to the earth bullet
stricken. “I’m going to empty every cursed
Sioux lodge west of the Missouri. Oh, I’m not
afraid to face the whole tribe if you give me
half a chance.”

He did recover. and a bound brought him to
the spot where his gallant steed lay writhing in

pain.

“Lie still. Quito! It’s life and death with us
now!” he said to the horse as he dropped beside
him. “I’m hit and so are you: but the bullet
that is to kill Midnight Jack isn’t carried by the
red-livered dogs over there.” ’

The road-agent t00k out his revolvers and laid
them at his side. He lay close against his fallen
horse, which fortunate] occupied a shady spot.
A glance upward told im that the moonlight
would fall there no more that night. His wish
was that it would reveal, just for one minute,
the figures of the Indians.

Then came a lull in the battle, and Midnight
turned to the spot where he had de osited the
body of his sister prior to ascending t e hill for
the ick and the spade.

“ hey shall not get you, Dora. By the gold
of Ophir—”

He stopped suddenly, and a startled look filled
his eyes.

“ Gone!”

Midni ht Jack sprung to his feet, and uttered
Ellie wor in all the horror and despair imagina-

e. i
“ The red devils have stolen my dearest dead.
Oh, you dogs! for this there shall be double ven-
geance taken.”

He was answered from the further side of the
valley. A line of fire leaped from the darkness,
and bullets fell all around him. ‘

“ Living still!” was the defiance which he sent

 

 
 

  

 

 

»

Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper. 7 .

 

back to his fees, and then a cry of joy fell from
his lips.

The monn peeping over the edge of a cloud
was revealing a score of horses, upon which
dark figures were mounted.

Midnight Jack darted forward, and as he
halted for a moment, his rifle sent ten messen-
gers of death into the ranks of the savages.

Wild cries of pain and shrieks of death fol-
lowed the rapid shots. There was retreating in
hot haste; but before the red—skins could get be-
yond the stretching moonlight, two rifles on the
road-agent’s left opened upon them.

With astonishment Midnight Jack turned up-
on his reinforcements, tohear these words in a
loud. rough voice:

“ Don’t let up, youngster, but give ’em all the
grim death ye’ve got in the magazine. Whoop-
ee! there they go! I‘m the Screamin’ Eagle of
the Smoky Roost—the Thunderbolt of the Dark-
ed ed Cloud—a reg’lar sky—scraper.”

nstead of smiling, Midnight J ack’s brow
darkened at these words.

“I didn’t want any help,” he muttered. “ By
the gold'of Ophirl I didn’t need any!”

 

CHAPTER IV.
THE HUNT BEGINS.

THE sound of retreating hoofs was evidence
enough that the Indians were riding at break-
neck speed from the bloody little battle-field.

The road-agent found five dead braves on
the spot where the Sioux band had fought,
but no sign of his sister’s pallid face greeted his
vision.

“ You may carry Dora to the North pole. but
even there the hand of Midnight Jack will fall
upon you and tear her away!” he cried. lookin
toward the direction in which the Indians ha
fled. “ By the gold of Ophirl I will not rest un-
til I have avenged my sister!"

“ Thet’s bizness, stranger,” came the unpolish-
ed voice from among the little trees that stood
thickly on the sides of the hill. “ I’m comin’
down to take the hand of the teller what loaded
a. wagon with Injuns down the road. I’m a reg-
’1ar sky-scraper! Hold on thar, stranger 1”

Midnight Jack allowed a scowl to pass over his

'face as he wheeled like a tiger suddenly brought

to bay, and with a revolver in each hand, looked
up the hill.

“I want revenge, not sky-scrapers!” he mute
tered, in a tone of p ssion which he could not
suppress. “,But as t e fellow has a horse, I‘ll
face him."

A moment later two figures mounted on
mules, whose bodies bore the marks of heavy
harness. came in sight, and the road-agent soon
caught their eye. '

“Hyar we ar’!” cried a lank hand uncouth
but strong specimen of humanity, springing
from the animal's hack and alightmg so near
Midnight that that worthy had to start back to
avoid a collision. “ I hcvn’t got a card, but
my name is Rube Rattler. or the Screamin'
Eagle of the Smoky Roost. WhOOpeel strangers,
we’ve. checked five of ’em straight through to-
night. This boy is—bless my boots! if I don’t
furgit what he calls himself. I picked ’im up
back thar a piece. 01d Tanglefoot war goin’

 

 

 

to lot moonlight into ’im, when I said: ‘ I can

not!’ an' he didn’t. He’s a. chicken, sir, an I’m

his friend from this night. The man what

teches him teches the Thunderbolt of the Dark-

figedpploud. Say, did the Injuns take any-
in ' -

“ ake anything?” and Midnight Jack echoed
the uncouth individual’s words in tones so venge-
ful that Gopher Gid, who still sat astride one of
Old Tan lefoot’s mules, started. “They took
what M1 night Jack never took from any man—
a sister.”

For a moment the gaunt man did not speak;
he was staring into the face of the person be-
fore him, who, with arms folded but with the‘
deadly weapon of the West in his white hand, \
was standing motionless as a statue,

“ I’ve heerd of you!” Rattler said. “ You
never took a thing from me, Midnight an’ I’m ”
always ready to he] the man what’s lost any
of his own. Put it t arl an’ let us be friends.”

’ The stony expression on Midnight J ack’s face
relaxed, and the boy opened his eyes in wonder
when he saw the two men shaking hands.

“We had a queer tussle tonight,” the Sky-
scraper said, glancing at Gopher Gld. “ That
old rotgut-peddler lost a. hnchpin. He tried
to cuss it back, but it war the most wasted cuss-
in’ you ever heard of. Then, as I said, he got
at the boy thal‘ who came up to help ’im; but
jest about thet time the Thunderbolt of the

ark-edged Cloud dropped close by ’im. We
emptied his cargo—knocked in the heads of his
kegs—and left ’im with two of his mules. He
war usin’ the strongest kind 0’ language. It
war amusin’ to hear ’im. Did you ever meet

Tanglefoot, Midnight?”

“He knows me, at any rate!” was the re-
sponse, and Gopher Gid detected a faint smile
at the corner of Midnight’s lips. “ That man is
not wholly a hraggart. He is a desperado.”

“Thet bloated toad?” cried Rube Rattler, in
tones of mingled disgust and astonishment.

:: 1Qidjou ever hear of a Sioux molesting him?”

0. '

“ Did you ever see him driving along with an ,V
Indian sitting on the same seat, as brotherly as
you please?”

“ Never did.”

“Then you haven’t been on this trail long,”
observed the road-agent. . -.

“ Not a great while, Midnight. Hev ye see’d
sm‘ani!‘ingsrt! I’ ‘ n-h' ' th t '1

‘ uen . vesee 1m in egreayi-:
lage ofiqthe gioux. Why, Red Cloud actually
dubbed the hound a chief at one of their sun-
dances. I never molested him; it wasn’t polio .”

“He said he would pay us back fur bu’s n'
his ke s! But I guess the Thunderbolt of the
Dark— ed Cloud kin stand the payment. When
any man runs ag’in’ me he strikes a post” .

Midnight J ack was still angry; the loss Of his
newly discovered sister caused him to shoot
lightning glances toward the northwest and he
began to grow impatient. '

‘I‘ll go with you to the eends of the world
arter the gal i” broke in the long borderman. '
” I’ve nuthin’ to keep me hyar; nofamily.‘ The
boy—way, he kin remain hyar till we come
back. opher. jump off the critter and lot Mid-
night take the saddle.” ;

   

   
    
 

 
  
  
  
 
  
   
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
 
   
   
   
   
   
 
     

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per-- my...“ gnu-k...» upward».me mm swimming; WW... .. . a...

' Go her Gid slid to the ground. “

5:»; 3;" .- ;._;_.-~;.: A?“

I V from head to foot before he answered.

 

» made this rpad a terri le one to travel.
'hang him in a minute at Deadwood, and if he

., .. w... _-... . H

8 I Gopher Gid. the Boy Trapper.

 

“ Not till I look to m own horse 1” interposed
the road-scourge, he ore Gopher Gid could
sprin from the beast. “He went down at the
first re and I told him to lie still,” and he
walked ' the spot where his black horse still
lay; 'but a glance at the rigid form and the
glazed eye to cl him that he would never ride the
faithful animal a ain. ,

With clinched 1 ps and eyes flashing anew, the
bandit came back to the two spectators.

“ I’ll take the mule, boy,” he said ently, and
ith a fresh
t l ahead, we will overtake the reddies before
they reach the big village. I have my doubts
whether Tanglefoot was going to Deadwood.
The great sun-dance of t e Sioux is near at
131.13; I guess he never misses such an affair as

a

"The self—styled Sky-scraper and Midnight Jack
now made hasty preparations to depart on the
trail of the flying Sioux.

The bo watc ed' them with disappointment
in his fa eyes, and at last, unable to still his
Ion in another moment, he spoke to Midnight.

‘9 ’ like to go along and help you get your

‘ sister back.”

Jack looked up and surveyed the little fellow

“You’d bother us, mebbe,” he said. “We

. 7 ’may have to enter Red Cloud’s village, make
' Indians of ourselves and, the girl may be dead.

I think she is." '
, The last sentence was spoken slowly, and the

'youth saw that the thought amounted almost to

a conviction.

“Stay hyar. boy," said Rube. before Gopher
Gid could respond to the'road-agent! I’d like
to take you. but it’s too riskyl An’ keep both
eyes peeled, too. Ye’ve heer’d about Old Tangle-
foot? He’ll be back this way.”

“ He will, assuredly," declared Midnight Jack.
“ If you want to see the years of manhood, don’t
fall into his hands." ’

The ni ht was well advanced when Midnight

, Jack an his companion bade the unsatisfied boy

farewell, and he stood in the darkness like a

» youth in adream, listening to the cantor of their

m es.
Before departure Midnight Jack had superin-

tended the burial of his horse and the slain sav-

ages, so that their bodies would not taint the at—
mos here so near the boy's hillside home.
“ e’snota bad-looking man l” were the words
that dropped from Go her Grid’s lips. “ B'i‘ig he’s
eY

values his seal he’d better stay out of Red
Cloud’s land. here did his sister come from,
that he should find her here? I don’t believe he

, has one. I’ll go up to the hole in the bill now,

and get some sleep. It is no longer a secret
hemp. I was a fool to follow old Tanglefoot.
It made me too many acquaintances. I am
known now. Hadn’t I better take up In tra

and leave? I was a real gopher before fell in

.with that rattlabrained man, and Midnight

Jack and Tanglefoot.”
The youth who was talking thus as he went up
the narrow path that led through the under-
yvth to his hidden home, was not at his ease.

he secret of his secluded home had been dis-

fl“.

 

covered; he was no longer safe in the rich trap-
ping grounds of Dakota. ,

“ ’d like to see your sister, Midnight Jack, if
she’s alivel” he said pausin in the low door-
way before be shut the porta . “ I haven’t seen
a white girl’s face for a year, and I’ll never see
yours, Dora, I’m thinking. Dora—what’s yonr
namel—I’d like to see you! Midnight Jack’s
sister. That sounds funny!”

The boy could not repress the low laugh that
bubbled to his lips, and while it still sounded he
shut the door.

A light which he struck inside revealed the in-
terior of the place where he had dwelt unmo-
lested for more than a year. There were steel-
traps of many sizes, and a good disEIay of pis-
tols and rifles, with a lot of pelts, t 6 products
of his trapping.

“ You Will not find me here when you come
back, Rube,” he said, speaking out his thoughts,
as he discussed a frugal meal alone. “I’m go-
ing to hunt new trapping-grounds, so far awa
from here that I’ll never think of Midnight Jae
and his sister.”

The look that covered the boy’s face as he
spoke told plainly that he had come to the con-
c usion to leave the grounds where his solitude
had been disturbed by scenes which he could
never crime from his memory.

He finished the meal, and carried the light to
his traps. Setting it on the ound he began to
untan Ie the chains, but his ngers moved slow1
or an slower, until at last his body fell gently

to one side, and Gopher Gid, the little trapper, .

was asleep.

But it was the slumber of the cat, for all at
once his eyes opened, and as they darted to the
door his fin ers clutched the butt of a pistol.

Gopher id sprung erect, and fastened his
eyes on the portal.

The candle was burning low at his feet, and
the room was rowin darker each succeeding
moment, but t e awa ening noise at the door
still continued.

The boy’s eyes were now ablaze with eager
excitement, but his hand was steady. .

He saw the stick which was slowly opening
the door: but he knew that the chain that se-
cured it would never admit a human bod .

For half an hour Gopher Gid waited or the
head of the burglar to come in sight. In all that
time he had not moved a foot.

Suddenly the stick was withdrawn, and a
shoulder seemed to be against the door.

Then came in sight the semblance of a human
head, and the next moment Gopher Gid saw the
hideous face of Timon Moss, whose two little
eyes danced like dervishes in their cells.

He raised the revolver, and fired at the living
target. At the same moment the candle went
out, and left him in almost palpable gloom. -

 

CHAPTER v.
BOUND roa sIOUX LAND.
IT was still dark, but the roseate flush of dawn
was not far off. ‘
With the flash of Gopher Grid’s revolver, Old
Tanglefoot’s head disappeared as if a battering
ram had been applied to the cranium.

For a long time the little hermit steed in the’

I

as» a“. 4......)

 

 

 

   

 
    

  
 

 

   

Gopher Gid. the Boy Trapper. 9

 

gloom at the side of the door, waiting for a re-
ap anoe of his foe.
fter waiting for two hours with his heart

beati audibly in his bosom, the boy began to
think t at his shot had disposed of his foe.

Constellations went horizonward with their
nightly regularity, and their light began to pale
be ore the advancmg step of morn.

A sigh of relief welled from Gopher Gid’s

eart. I

“ He’ll know better than to poke his head into
a 1i hted room whose door is chained!” he said,
a Victorious twinkle in his e es. “If I didn’t
send the bullet into his head, at least left my
mark somewhere on his face. Why I never
dreamed that he would follow in trail so soon.
Midni ht Jack is right; Timon 05s is a veri-
table emon.”

If Gopher Gid had known that his words were
fallin upon the ears of the man he had men-
tione he would not have made preparations to
inquire into the result of his nocturnal shot as
soon as (333' bro e.

Squat like a toad, and with his repulsive
face rendered doubly hideous by a long red
streak across one cheek which bled profusely,
Timon Moss sat behind some bushes w ich grew
near the door of the cave home.

In one hand he held the ungainly but dread re-
volver which we have already seen in his gripe.
He peered through the bushes at the door,
wait ng patiently for his prey.

Midnight Jack had not given the man a wron
character. There were but few persons who rea -
ly knew him. He had no attributes of manhood
left; the vilest of the vile, with the nature of
the hyena coupled to a brutishness that ruled
more than one Indian camp, Timon Moss had
no equal. Whether engaged in the sale of
smuggled whisk , or attending a sun-dance,
clad in the parap ernalia of a‘ Sioux chief,which
rendered his uatty figure the more ridiculous,
he never lost eight of one thing—hatred of the
weak.

He had not tarried long on the spot where
Rube Rattler and the boy trapper had demol-
ished his cargfisof evil spirits. '

He turned back upon Deadwood With an
oath that would have driven the color from
Gopher Gid’s face could he have heard, and
threw himself upon that trail which had led him
to the cave home of the boy who had incurred
his uncompromising anger.

He knew that Gopher Gid was the sole tenant
of the hole in the hill, and ready for the work
i: which he reveled, the spider waited for the

yAt last the door slowly 0 had and the
whisky-smuggler saw the an: ous face of his

boy enemy.
‘I didn‘t kill him—that’s certain,” muttered
the boy trapper. “ Leastwise, he isn’t here to
tell me this. Aha! Tanglefoot, that ball passed
too near your face. It was a gentle reminder
for you to keep our distance, and to knock
when you come Visitin .” ‘

Another step and 0 her Gid stood beyond
the threshold of his habi tion and so near that
the eyes of Tanglefoot seemed to dart their fire

upon him.
Suddenly the tiger in wait crouched nearer to

 

the earth, and then with a roar not unlike that
of the jun is king, he sprung at his prey.

Gopher id heard the cry and turned to see
the bushes bend before the ieapin foe, and to
find himSelf crushed back before e could lift
the 1pistol clutched by his right hand.

T etwain went over together, the wei ht of
the smuggler bearing his young victim o the

groun . a

The rolled down the hill together over and
over, ike amateur wrestlers; but the s reugth of
Tanglefoot was bound to win.

The boy tried in vain to slip from the smu —
gler’s em race; but it was like the bug of e
she bear, and the fumes of bad liquor almost
overpowered him. As Gid went back the re-
volver was torn from his hand, nor could it be
regained. Tanglefoot used no wea n,, and
when they reached the foot of the hill, id found
himself lifted in mid-air and held out at arm’s-
len th by the panting o e.

or several moments anglefoot said nothing,
but continued to glare at his prize. ‘ ‘

“ Caught!” he cried. . “ Nobody whoever done
Timon Moss a wrong ever got away in the end.‘
It war fun to bu’st the whisky—kegs; but the
laugh will be on the other side of the face afore
the game is played cl'ar out. Say whar’s that
j’inted individual who did most of the breaking,
my delicate child? He called himself the
Screamin' Eagle of some kind 0’ roost; but bless
me ef I ever see’d ’i'm aforel What! ain’t yer
goin’ to s eak? Chaw a little talk fur King Ti-
mon, er, y the ghost of Hamlet! I’ll shake yer
mossakins 011’.”

As if to show Gopher Gid that his last threat
was not an idle one, Timon Moss shookhim until
his bones seemed jumbled up in his body.

“ Thet’s jest an instanc'e!’

said the 8m ler ,
laughing at the ain which he could see hisugfieké

had caused. ow you’ll talk. What’s the
Eagle?” .

‘ If he was within gunshot you’d have found
out,” returned the boy with a good deal of spirit.
“ I do not know where he is.”

“Gone off, eh?”

H Yes ,7

“ Alone? I heerd a ood deal 0’ shootin’ while
I war comin’ h ar. ho did it?”

“ Midnight ack.” .

Gopher Gid peered eagerly into Tangietoot’l
face to note the eflect of is r y. ‘ '

The whisky-smuggler a little; that was

“ Whar is he now?”

“ I don't know.”

Gopher Grid’s answer seemed to nonle the
avenger of the spilled spirits; he was at his
fl er’s-end for another uestion.

at once he broke orth with one that shot
a malicious twinkle into his little eyes.

“ Sa , Gopher did you ever see a sun-dance?”

The oy stared a moment, and said, “ No.”

“ Heard of them, eh'l” V

“I have.”

“They’re goin’ to hev a big one u , at Red
Cloud’s town,” said Tan lefoot. “8‘ houses
fur the Injun what kin
red boys ar’ comin’ from the lodges of the Town
Sioux, an’ thaij'll be more Injuns thar you
kin count. Sixty bosses! jest think of it!

 

K

ang the longest. The ‘

   
   
    
 
   
  
 
 
 
  
   
  
  
   
   
  
  
   
   
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
    
  
  
     
   
   
   
  
  
 
    
     
     
      
     
       

l

  

  

Thar‘ll be some 0’ the tallest hanging ever scc‘d
in an Injun camp. Rain-in—the-Fuco hung four
hours once; but they’ll beat his time all holler.
Pm goin’ up.”

The last sentence told Gopher Gid that he
would in all robability be compelled to accom-
pany Tangle oot.

ventured to ask.

“ Me?" and Tanglefoot laughed boisterously.

' ‘ “What! Timon Moss afeard to go to the Injun

towns? He’s been thar afore—a kin among

dogs. Why, I’m a Sioux chief when 'm thar.

They call me Squattin’ B’ar; not a melodious

handle, but ruther appropriate. What ar’ you

lau hin’ at, boy? thinkin’ of a better name, eh i”

l Gopher Gld had been compelled to reply to

Tanglefoot’s %uestion, he must have confessed

that he was t inking that Drunken Hog, when

applied to his captor, would be more appropri-
ate than netting Bear.
But He did not express his thoughts.

' “ Well, I’m goin‘ to the Injun show," said

", Timon, suddenly, “ an’ I a’n’t goin’ alone,

either.”

That sentence removed the little trapper’s last

. doubt. He was to be carried by that merciless

man into the largest Sioux camp in the West,
there to be subjected to a fate already, no doubt,
selected by his Captor.
He was powerless in the hands of Timon Moss.
“ I’ll hear my fate bravely,” Grid said to him-
self. “ I trust the time is coming when I’ll get
the upper hand of this demon in human skin, and

y then et him look out. I wonder if Rube‘s trail

 - will lead him to Red Cloud‘s village? After all,

we may meet sooner than I expected; I may yet

get to see Midnight’s sister.”

‘ Timon Moss now proceeded to secure his cap-

tive who no longer fought the tide which had set

in a ainst him.

' - “ on will do me one favor?” said the boy.

i “ Ian course I willl” was the answer. “ What
3 it

“ Shut my door and fix it as I tell you.”

“. What! you don’t expect to come back. I
hope!” was the quick retort. “But. I’ll fix the
shanty, fur thar may be some things thar that
I’ll want when I come back.”

' Timon shut the door of the cave home and left

I Gopher Gid there while he went around the hill.

: " from whose further side he soon reappeared

7'1  leadi twomules, the late leadones of his team.

‘ “ " “ Al aboard!" he shouted, with a cheerfulness

 which no humor for the silent, thought-
' ful on the ground.

' Gop or Girl was tossed astride of one of the

. nervy little animals, and his legs were made fast
to the dusty sides.

I His saddle was a Government blanket like

_ Tanglefoot’s, and as the smuggle -' threw him«

’ self upon his steed, he grasped Gid’s bridle-rein
and uttered a sharp “git ep!” which made the

, mules start forward like arrows projected from

, in. Cheyenne bow. ‘

Away Over the trail they went.

_ Gopher Gid glanced over his shoulder once at
the'hill home which he was leaving forcibly
after a long sojourn there; and could hardly
realize his situation till he turned to look into

the ogreish face of Timon Moss.

r x

\

\

l

10 Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper.

“ Ar’n’t you afraid to go?” the young trapper I

i “ Take a good look at your hole in the round,
[ my poewcc, fur ye’r’ never comin’ bac to its
tra )5 and skins.”

(xid’s eyes flashed fire.

Never? He would see about that.

CHAPTER IV.
THE JAWS or DEATH.

“WE’RE nearin’ a lunatic asylum. Jest lis—
ten. boy.”

The face that Timon Moss turned to the boy
beside him had a mischievous smile.

The twain were riding over a level stretch of
ground, pretty well timbered, and romantic in
appearance. They had left the Cheyenne River
behind, and were evidently approaching an In—
dian village which seemed to lie just over lhe
low hills that rose before them.

Sounds of the most discordant nature shook
the evening air, and struck harshly upon. their
tympanums. Among the many noises. sava e
voices and the beating of Indian drums could fie
distinguished.

The greater part of the week had elapsed
since the occurrence of the scenes narrated in
the foregoing chapters. Timon Moss and his
boy captive had journeyed not fast, it is true,
but neverthelessquite steadily in a northwest-
erly direction.

“ What do yo think of the music?” asked 01
Tanglefoot, when the boy had listened to th
bedlamic din for several moments. “ Not as
good as an opery; but it strikes the In 'un ear
like the song of angils. Just over them 'lls ar’
the red boys what whi ped Custer last summer.
It war the biggest fig t we ever had in these
parts. The blue-coats toed the scratch like men,
an' it Mir a pity to shoot ’em down as we did.”

Gopher Girl started as the little pronoun that
told so much fell upon his ears.

“ Were you there?" he asked.

“ Yes, I war thar! What are you goin’ to do
about it, my peewee?"

The speaker was leaning toward the boy, and
his bloated visage was thrust against him.

. “ You dare not go down to Deadwood or Fort
Sully and say that l” he said, returning the sav-
age look with defiance.

“ Hevn’t I been thar fifty times since?"

“But not as a man who helped to butcher
Custer and his men.”

“ Mehbe not.”

Timon Moss grew slightly pale.

f‘Yon’d' tell on me if you war thar now?” he

said. .

“ That I would.”

“ Then you’ll never tell.”

Gopher Grid thought he would never forget
the look which Timon Moss bestowed upon him
as this threatening sentence dropped syllable by
syllable, from his lips. -

As the twain advanced the din from the un-
seen village continued to salute their ears. and
they reached the summit of one of the hills to
behold a sight now to the eyes of one, old to
those of the other.

Apparently at their very feet lay one of the
largest Indian villages of the West. Eve -
wherein the fading light of day could still'ze
distinguished the birchen wigwams. It was the
| home of some of the noted chiefs of the Sioux

 

      
    

    
 
   
    
     
  
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
   
  
   
  
  
  
 
     
    
   
    
 
  
 
   
   
  

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.. ._...;_._‘._M,_ A

 

.. 1: -  .
l.

.._ '

 

        
           
       
   

. mam-aw”

 

(3,.

r“:

 

Gopher Gld. the Boy Trapper.

nation; and, as Tanglefoot had said from this
village the vanquishers of Custer had marched,
and to it they had returned, laden with the
trophies of that historic little battle-field. ,

“ Keep close to me, boy,” said Tanglefoot, as,
with a quick f‘erk of the rein, he brought Go her
Grid’s mule c ose alongside. “Take everyt ing
in good-humor. Ef the Injuns file you a little,
don’t let on. They’re not lookin’ fur me, on
hossback I”

The young trapper knew the meaning of his
captor’s emphasis, and the real destination of the
cargo of whisky which he helped to destroy was
now cleared up.

Tanglefoot and his ca tive entered the Indian
town at a point which id not at that moment
seem to be inhabited. But their arrival was
soon made known by the mangy curs that fre-

uent the savage villages, and as they advanced
t 3 number of dogs increased.

Timon Moss guided his charge to a part of the
village from which the tedlam seemed to rise,
and almost suddenly they emerged upon the
great square, where more than one famous
sun—dance and act of cruel torture had taken
p ace.

In the center of this uare rose a pole about
thirty feet in h' ht, an ,from the top dangled
innumerable buc in "tires, the other ends of
which lay on the groan , giving them an ap-
pearance of bein nearly fifty feet in length.

Hundreds of ndians of both sexes swarmed
about this pole, whose use we shall presently
witness. Not a white face was to be seen, and
the boy trap er instinctively drew back when
he first look upon the sig‘ht. '

“ We’re the only white-s as b er, unless—”

Timon Moss paused, as if to a ow his eyes to
wander over the savage scene before them.

“ Unless,” he finished, “ thar be painted faces
what don’t belong to the reds.”

His words caused a thrilling thought to flash
through the little trapper’s brain.

Perhaps Rube Ratt er and Midnight Jack had
reached the Sioux village in ursuit of the In-
dians who had carried off t e hunter’s sister.
Did Timon Moss think of them when he quali-
fied the sentence which he had just spoken?

But Gid was not permitted to debate the men-
tal question, for their presence was soon espied,
and they found themselves surrounded by scores
of Indians, clad in wild paraphernalia for the
brutal rites soon to begin.

Wild shouts of leasure welcomed Timon
Moss back to the ndian town. Tawny arms
instantly caught his nether limbs, and the over-
joyed Indians would have jerked him from the
saddle if he had not commanded them to desist.
Timon shook the Indians ofl’, and addressed
them in a tone which caused the drums to cease
beating.

He told them that the cargo of whisky intend-
ed for them had been sailed by a lot of whites,
and destroyed. In words that drew a smile to
Gopher Gid's lips, he declared that he had
fought to the bitter end, only to be overpowered
after slaying some of his assailants; that he had
escaped even while the noose was dangling over
his head.

All this was received with shouts of triumph

‘ by the eager listeners, and when Timon turned

 

_.. ,...-.a...-...

ii.

his face upon Gid, the boy thought his time had
oome.
“l’m not oin’ to ive yer away,” his lips
yvgiflpgred. ‘Ye wo dn‘t see the sun-dance of
1

Then he turned upon the Indians and waved
his hand toward the ca tive.

“ The~boy is Squattin B'ar’sl” he said. “ His
skin is white; but the Sioux will respect it be-
cause it is tied to the white chief’s. The fire-
water is one, but it will soon flow in the big
village. har’s Red Cloud, Settin’ Sun an’ the
other chiefs?” ‘

“ Red Cloud has gone to the forts to talk to:
the blue—coats. Setting Sun is here.”

The speaker who pushed his way throu h the.
crowd halted before Tanglefoot with the atter:
part of the sentence falling from his lips.

Gopher Gid saw before him a magnificent-
looking Indian, of middle age, Whose feathers -
were numerous, and whose dark arms were (an--
circled by shining bands of copper. ‘

This Indian was Setting Sun, one of the youn‘ ‘ "
gest as well as the bravest chiefs of the nation

—a man who could tell in graphic language how ‘

Custer died.

“ While our brother is away the one thousand
lodges of the Sioux are under Setting Sun,” con--
gained the chief, with the haughty ignity of a.

ing.
have trave ed long. Let them seek food and

rest. The dancing s uare is not yet ready for' ‘K 

the sun—dance. Fort res days our people have

fasted: to-morrow the dance be 'ns, and after - r 
car may eat,.* ‘

that the great feast. Squatting
for he is our brother by ado tion.” _
“ Oh, I’m not him ry, bu p’r‘aps the boy is;”.‘ _
said Tanglefoot, wit a glance at Gopher Gid, ~ 1
who saw nothing but the stately figure of, Setting‘ : ‘
Sun. “ But, what I want to know is if any

white men have been in these parts late] 1” . ' ‘ 1?-
“It Squattin Bear will 0 to Climb-t e-Hill’s: J 
(1 two wh ts scalps upon which . ‘ .

lod e, be will
the lood is still moist l” was the reply.“ ,
Did Gopher Gid start and fix his eyes more

steadfastly upon the chief? Did all color leave . t "

his face and a sigh well from his heart for ‘the‘ -
fate of Rube Rattler and Midnight J ack?

“Kill 'em, eh?” ejaculated
fiendish glee. , x  _

“ They will stay forever in the coun of the _, 7v
Sioux!” was the re 1y. “Climb-the had
sworn that he woul take two scalps before he
danced the sun-dance which is to-morrow. We *
are all here. Some of our brethren of the

Arickarees are here, and two Teton Sioux came i 

two slee s a o from the north. Let
Bear loo !
hide to s.”

Tang efoot turned to Gid. .

“ Come. boy,” he said. “ I‘ve got a lodge hyar _
an’ we’ll satisfy the inner man. To-morrow the ‘
fun begins.” ,

The Indians at once perceived that the whisky-

uatting ,

smuggler was on the point of leaving, and be  ‘3'
gun to make way. Setting Sun stepped aside , _ 3

friend, why- ; 

and said in an undertone:
“ If the boy is Squatting Bear’s
does he tie his legs to the mule?”
These words which fell upon Gopher Gid’s an fa
sent a thrill through every fiber, and the glance; ‘

 
 

“ uatting Bear and his little white ‘ >7

 

angletoot, with  

 

 

s can see the pole and the uflalos, fr. -

 

  

"

12 V Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper.

 

which the chief gave him made him for a mo-

ment wish to throw himself into the tawny arms,

and find protection on the Sioux’s breast.

But the next instant the crowd suddenly surg-
ed against the animal which theboy bestrode,
and he felt the )rcssure of fingers on his thigh.

“ So the old ellow caught you!” whispered a.
thrilling voice at that immortal moment. “ Keep
up your courage! we’re all here—in the very
jaws of death!"

Gopher Gid’s heart seemed to still its throb-
bings; he turned and cast a hasty look at his
side, but saw nothing save a sea of red faces
whose owners were crowding back to get beyond
the heels of the mule.

3, But he had not dreamed: the startling words
. had actually fallen upon his cars, and he bad
» rec izod the voice as—Midnight J ack’s.

/- at did he mean by “ We are all here?"—did
his words in any manner refer to his sister—to
that girl whom the boy had such a. curiosity to

. meet?

“ Cl’ar the way! or the mules will elevate their
heels an’ bust a head,” suddenly cried Tangle-
foot, and Grid found himself riding through the
dusky crowd, while the Indian drums and
whistles were once more raising their ear-split-
tin din. ‘ .

i “ v was a thrilling moment for the boy. He
could not resist the temptation to look back.

But he could see no Indian face that resembled
the road-agent’s. . ‘

“I might have been mistaken!” he said to
himself. '

. Mistaken? no! Gopher Gid.

I Look at that oung Indian who is keeping pace
' with your mu 9. See how he eyes you, and
- - glances madly at Timon Moss.

‘ That man is Midnight Jack!

_ CHAPTER VII.
. TUSSLE IN THE DARK.
Tan torches flaring over the dancing grounds
‘ of t Sioux village revealed the motley crowds
‘ surgi g to and'fro in the grotesque ceremonies
' « ,fthat precede the opening of the grand sun-dance.
 The wild music. of the Indian drums still dis-
'-  turbed the ear, and ever and anon the shrill yet
A musical notes of a bugle rose above the din. The
 blower of this instrument, so strangely out of
' ' place in an Indian camp. was a boyish fellow
whose rotund appearance was indicative of lusty
~ health; the piercing blasts that he blew told the
, story of sound lungs, and as he flitted hither and
thither over tho square be attracted more than
usual attention.

. .A beautiful silver bugle it was that Mousoskin
held to his lips; it had sounded the last charge of
Custer‘s immortal squadron in the valley of the

' - Rosebud, and its present possessor could tell how
, the blue-coated bugger had clung to his horn,
even utter death ad stolen into his heart.

Mouseskin had won the horn; it was his; and he
blew it with that pride which made him obnnx
ions to more than one Indian in the town.

x ' Gopher Gid heard the blasts so lustin blown
‘ by the young Indian. but he paid no particular
v- x attention to them. A military bugle in a sav—
age camn was no mystery to him, and his hands
 v grew tight as he muttered:

'_ g, “ There’s another thing that reminds me that

"v ' 1 u

.\ .t

»/

  
  

.,.' ,

 

I am” among the butchers of Custer and his
men.

But there was another person to whom the
ever-sounding bugle conveyed much that was
In sterious.

Ve have said that the Sioux village contained
about a thousand lodges. This is a fair esti—
mate. They were arranged in a rude circle,
and faced the uare whose four corners were
marked by theSIOdgcs of the rincipal chiefs,
 Cloud, Tiger Tail, Setting ‘un, and Hungry

o f.

Standing in one of these stoutly—built birchen
habitations, with her face prCSSed against a
crevice, through which came the light of the
distant stars, and the hubbub without, was a
young Indian girl.

She was clad in half-civilized garments; her
beautiful hair hung in wavy splendor down her
back, and her feet, small and shapely, were in-
cased in moccasins which had never been made
for them—-they flttod loosely, and in no graceful
manner. ,

It was to this creature that Mouseskin’s bugle
sent strange emotions.

“ What can it mean?" she asked herself, in a
low voice, while the most piercing of all the
blasts was sounding in her ears. “It sounds
like the bugles they have in the arm : but I
never heard that wild blast at father’s ort.”

The words were spoken in good English which
denoted gentle breeding, and a strange look
filled the speaker’s eyes.

“Hush, Weeping Leaf !" said avoice so near
the girl, that she started back into the gloom of
the lodge with a light cry of terror.

“ Weeping Leaf?” she echoed; “ I am not an
Indian. They dyed my skin while I was raving
mad; and, to completely make me like them,
red and barbarous, they have named we Weep-
ing Leaf. Do I regret that 1 have come to such
a fate? Nol I came to this country on a good
mission—to find my brother cursed by a father
and driven from home to become a vagabond,
they say somewhere between Omaha and the
coast. Ii‘ather, retired on halt—pay. and proud
of faithful service, is soon to go beyond the
scene of his one great grief. I told him that I
would bring Jack back for forgiveness; but he
groaned, and, hiding his face in his hands, cried
that Jack was dead.

“But I know better,” she continued, with
trustful emphasis. “ He is not dead. I am here
a captive, not only ainted and dressed Flike an
Indian girl, but cal ed by an outlandish savage
name. They shall not alwa s kee me thus: I
will find that brother. I wil y t ered fiends
back for the attack they ma e on our wagon.
They have warmed a viper in Dora. Lightway—
one whose aims are to find her banned brother,
and to deal them blows of death. I did not
know that that captor of mine was so near, and
still I might have known that I Would notba
left unguarded. Av, stars! look down and see
that I am not an Indian, because my skin is red
—look down and hear the vows of vengeance
which well from my heart every minute of my
captivity!” ‘

As she uttered the last word she moved to the
crevice again, and turned her eyes upward to
the brilliant orbs of the vasty sky.

 
 
   
       
     
  
 
 
    
   
    
    
   
 
 
 
 
 
    
 
    
  
   
  
   
   
    
    
  
 
 
 
    
   
  
 
 
    
 
 
 

 

 

 
     
      
 

 
  

 

w—‘A‘  «As .

  

1

Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper. . 18

 

Louder and clearer than ever came the blast
of the bugle.

It sounded so shrill that the girl started.

The Indian boy was nearing the llxlge.

“Who blows that bugle!” the girl asked, curi»
ously, trying to catch sight of the blower; but
the next moment a dark figure rose between her
and the stars.

It was the burly body of the guard, and his ac-
tion told the girl that he had purposely obstruct-
ed her line of v1sion.

The next bugle blast was broken by the voice
of the Indian who stood against the lodge.

“ Dog! will you give your mouth no rest?” said
the guard, angrily.

Mouseskin stopped suddenly and, removing
the bugle from his lips, looked fixedly at the
save e who had addressed him.

. “ ho speaks to Mouseskin?” he demanded,
with an authoritative pomposity that smacked
not a little of the ludicrous;

He stepped forward as he s oke, his bugle in
his left hand, a drawn dirk in is right.

d “His master speaks!” was the quick rejoin-
er.

“The horn is Mouseskin’s! He got it where
the Yellow Hair fell with all his warriors. Was
Feel—the-Sky there?”

This last was uttered in a tone that roused the
ire of the Indian guard.

“ Go ’way, or Feel-the—Sky will kick the creak-
ing frog!"

Mouseskin’s eyes flashed at this, and Feel—the-
Sky advanced to bestow the threatened kick.

All at once, like a panther reparing for a
spring. the noisy Sioux boy ropped to the

round, and the next moment threw himself
eavin upon the guard. .

Dora Lightway, the girl captive heard the
collision, and saw two figures writhing and
struggling in the dim light.

Feel-the-Sky went down before Mouseskin’s
assault; he was completely thrown off his feet,
and the combatants fell heavily against the
lodge, shaking various skins from the walls upon
the girl. ‘

“ This may rove a. providential battle for
me!” ejacula the captive, with hope for a
moment lighting up her eyes. “I pray thee,
Heaven, that thou mayest send me do 'verance.
Ah! me! how they struggle! The one seems
but a boy; he can be no match for Feel-the-Sky,
mv captor l”

ike two mastifls contending for victory, the
red-skins fought just without the birchen lodge.
The advantage was with the boy whose sudden
gharge had taken his adversary at a disadvan-
age. r
' “Ah! me, agroan! ablow! the knife on one
is at work I” Dora said, with a shudder for the
sounds which assailed her ears.

Then a strange silence came into the lodge.

The battle was over, but, who had won?

Perhaps both the combatants lay dead.

A half-hour of mental torture passed away,
and Dora put her hand through the crevice; it
touched the rude bar which secured the door.

Holding her breath, she worked silently at this
till it fell and then she easily stepped out.

What a. thrill of joy shot through the heart
of Midnight J ack’s youngrsister. r

 

The stars were above her‘,’ the lodge of. cap-
tivity behind!

It was a moment the emotions of which can-
not he described.

Near hcr lay the body of a man, and near to ‘
it another dork heap, but much smaller.

“They have both fallen!”

This is what Weeping Leaf said to herself.

The sounds before her told her that safety
lay in the route that stretched in the opposite
direction. I

“ Heaven guide my feet!” she fervently cried.

A shrill bugle blast at her very side almost
lifted her from her feet. .

With a cry of horror she turned and saw'
Moufieskin on his knees, blowing with all his
mi t. -

he sight decided the soldier’s daughter. ‘

“ I am not free with that Indian here!”

The next moment she sprung upon the boy
{)vitl: the intention to do or die, and pushed him

no . - "
At the same time she snatched the silver, ,
bugle from his lips, and struck him heavily with ‘
the singular weapon. '

“ Now I am free!” she said, and still clinging p
to the bugle-horn, she turned from the scene, n
and ran beyond the cordon of wigwams. ~ »

The thought of escape lent new eed to her’ v
limbs, and she was just entering a iue of cot- , ,
tonwoods that stood like stately sentinels in the
starlight, when a figure rose from the ground in \
her very path. . ' ‘

In an instant she saw the plumes of an In- .
dian warrior, and halted with the famous horn. j
drawn menacineg back. ‘

But her right arm was caught before it could
descend, and she saw a grotesque red. face peer-
ing into hers. ,. .i -

“ Go!” said a voice, and Dora was pushed on '
in no very gentle manner. a.

But the next words sent a thrill through“;
every fiber of her ,frame. I

“Onl a poor, sneakin’ Injun all I don’t f
hev dea in’s with thet kind 0’ true . I’m hyar'na-
arter awhite ’un, an’ I’ll make the do go _, ,'
thar eyes afore tomorrer night. For ’m‘the 
Screamin’ Eagle of the Smoky Roost! a reg’lar 
sky-scraper!” ’ . f 't~

Dora stood still like a person rooted toltho 
ground with amazement. t

She was afraid to breathe. -,  ‘

The man near her might be a. friend. ' .

i

 

CHAPTER VIII.
READY FOR THE woas'r.

“ WHO ar’ ye look’n’ at? Move yer boots, er
the Screamin" Eagle—no! the Red J ingo ot'the
Little Big-Horn will accelerate yer pace !” ' W

Weeping Leaf, or Dora. saw the figure step ,
forward, as these words smote her ear. . -

“He cannot be my friend,” she muttemd.
“ To him let my skin be red and not white. He’s. ‘
awhit/e man. despite his disguise—one of those
renegades l have often read about.” . ,

Again the girl fled, and left \the strange being ‘
alonedin the path which she had lately tn: A
verse . -’ , _

“I mustn’t let my tongue sli}; anymowfl
mused the man, thus left near th edge of the:

 
  
   

   
  
  
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
  
  
  
    
   
       
     

 

1

, 14 , l , dimm- Gid. the Boy Trapper.

 

cottonwoods. “Imust beawolf jest like the
rest of the pack. I’m the Red Jingo; the

Screamin’ Eagle of the Smoky Roost is lost till I .

git out 0’ this pickle. Et‘ I war huntin’ red gals

what anice one I could hev picked up; but i

want to get the white’un, the sister of that

young devil, Midnight J ack.”
“ And we will get her!”

4 “Holy Moses!” exclaimed the speaker, start-

ing from the apparition standing against the

nearest as well as one of the argest trees.

“‘ 'Vgar I talkin’ aloud Mid—no! Runnin’ Wa-

“ Slightly,” was the reply, as the two Indian-
like figures came together and grasped hands.

“ You were talklng about a girl—did she pass

here?”

' “ Yes; an Injun crittur. Hev ye been to the
tree?” \

‘ “ No! It stands in a dangerous locality,” was
the low response. “ Many of the Indians keep
a sham feast; they have caches in the wood. Out

/ yonder it is full of them, stealin out for a. mor—
sel. Deny an Indian‘s stomac when food is
high, if you can. But the pistols are safe in the
tree. It is not a cache; we will not need them

to—moxrow.” ,

' “ If they should find ’em, thar’s no one in the

cam who kin read.” _

“ h, but there is, Rube.”

u who?”

“Old Tan lefoot!”

“ And the y?”

t g “ He would not betray us.”

’ ’ “ No! he would not; but that bloated spider—
' that tauglefooted—”

A red hand fell admonishingly on the speak-
er’s arm. ,
"A little too loud, Rube,” said a low voice.

“ Too much English in our tones. We’d better

fall back on the Sioux gibberish. By George!

'tis lucky, that we can speak the infernal
"-tonUue—”

“like or native!” and there was a twinkle in

the s eaker’s eyes that would have proclaimed.

his i entity to any one who knew Rube Rattler.

“We’ll consider the pistols safe,” he contin-
ued. “ Thet red gal war‘goin’ out to a cache.
She may b’lieve in fastin’, but she don’t practice

' it. She’s got a sensible stomach.”

The other—Midnight Jack—did not reply.
His handsome eyes, a little watery, but deep,
and full of expression, all the same, seemed to
he gazing into the future, far beyond his cour-
ageous com nion.

“Runnin Water, I’ve been thinkin‘ erbout

suthin’ that might happen,” said Rube. “ Ar’
ye listeniu’?”

, “Yes,” said the other, now in the Sioux
ton e. “Goon.”

“ at if that whisky-dog recognizes us to-
mower?”
The answer fell promptly from Midnight’s

ps:
“He must be shot dead before he 0 us his
mouth! His eyes will first discover; is look
I will betray him. We must not hesitate.”
“ But the justification ?”
“‘ Never mind that. First the act: after that
the excuse! Watch him narrowly, Rube.” ,
. “I will!” Was Rube’s quick reply. “If my

 

dropper talks to—mnrrar, the golden gates may
open fur Squattin’ B’ar!” .

The two daring men know that they had
courted a des rate emergency which might
arise on the to owing day—the day for the sun-

nee.

Midnight Jack—or Running Water, as the
Sioux now called him—felt that he was not far
from his sister. He had tracked her captors to
the confines of the Sioux town; but as yet his
keen eyes had not managed to discover her.

Happily his egust intercourse with hunting-

arties of the r nation had given him a speak-
ing knowledge of their language, and his com-
panion, who knew something of almost every
tribe west of the Missouri, could, as he expressed
it, sgeak the tongue “like er native.”

'1‘ 's knowledge now stood the fearless twain
in need.

Anew excitement, and one not unexpected,
was likely to rise soon in the Sioux village.
Midnight Jack expected to hear the tragic oc-
currences of the Deadwood trail reported among
the lodges; he eVen looked for that part of the
wagon which bore his words of vengeance to be
flung down in the great square by Red Cloud
and his band. expected every moment from their
visit to the United States fort.

His absence from the village at the moment
that we discovered him at the ed 9 of the little
belt of cottonwoods, was caused y a desire to
assure himself of the continued safety of his
handsome revolvers which bore his name on the
sides of the barrels.

These he had deposited in a hollow tree prior
to his first entrance into the village. There was
one man there now who must not see those dead-
ly weapons—Old Tanglefoot.

His repeating rifle was not marked, and as
many Sioux owned such a weapon of death, he
excited no sus icion by carrying it with him.

Havin reso ved upon the desperate act which
we have eard them discuss should Tanglefoot
reco
Ratt er and the road-agent went back into the
village.

It was now near midnight.

The drums had ceased to sound, and but few
Indians remained in the square. The rest had
sought their lodges, there to dream of the bru-
talities of the sun-dance, and to prepare their
bodies for the endurance which many of the
youn er bucks had determined on in face of the
assem led tribe.

“Hyar ar’ the ropes-strong eno h to hold
an ex up,” whispered Rube as he an the road-
agentbe an'to ins t the loft torture-pole in
the dim ight of t 3 stars. “ ou’ve see'd the
sun-dance, Mid—cuss it all! I mean Runnin’
Water.”

“ I have not, strange to say. but—”

“I hev!” was the interruption. “The red
dogs run a knife through the thick muscles of
the breast—right hyar—au’ put in a good wooden
skewer. To this they tie one of these re , an'
then they dance about the pole, an’ f back
with their full weight. It’s terrible! Some-
times the muscles give way soon; but if they‘re
extra tough they hold out five hours. Its a
sickenin’ sight.”

“ Did you ever try it, Rube?” asked Jack.

izethem on the eventful morrow, Rube '

Tar-arses}:

 

Tawney .2 2-.

 

 

Gopher Grid. the Boy Trapper.

n

\

1‘

 

“ No! but I‘d like to try the dance once.”

(I You?”

‘7 Yes, me! the Screamin’ Ea rle of the Smoky
Roost, alias the lied Jingo o the Little Big
Horn.”

Midnight Jack was silent for a moment.

“ You’d better not, Rube. You’ll have other
use for your muscles before we get out of this
devil land. Think of my sister, very near us
now, no doubt. Leave the sun~dance alone; let
Indians mutilate themselves.” .

But the old borderer was not to be diverted
by his companion’s word. .

In his mind he had determined to attempt the
sun-dance on the morrow; and become the only
white man who had submitted his body to the
horrible torture.

Silently the two adventurers glided from the
square, and sought the lodge which Setting Sun
had allotted to them as visitors.

AI yet the death of Feel-the—Sky had not been
discovered, and Mouseskin’s trumpet was still

mute.

Midnight Jack threw himself upon the scanty
skins within the lodge, and soon fell asleep.

After awhile he was startled by a touch
which drew him into a sitting posture in the
gloom of the hut.

“ It’s only me I” said a well—known voice at his
ear. “ We ve got to do one of two things—
leave the Inéun shanties now, or kill Tangleth
to-morrow!’ \

Midnight Jack was thoroughly awake.

“ Go away without my sister? Never!” he
cried. “ We’ll shoot Tanglefoot.”

“ Before the hull tribe?’

l‘ Yes.”

“ But he’s Squattin’ B'ar l”

“He shall not betray us!” was the answer.
“ Does he suspect us, Rube?”

“ Kinder so.”

“Then not for certain?”

“ He's makin’ up his mind fast. 1 b’lieve he’s
been watchin’ us.”

At that moment a most unearthly yell rung
through the village. .

Our two friends sprung erect and hstened

 

CHAPTER IX.
GOLDEN GEORGE, run, NEW EOE.

“er is it?” whispered Midnight Jack,
whose voice was accompanied b the low click-
ing of the revolver which he he din his hand.

‘ A co se hez been found," was Rube’s nick
reply. “ ’ve heerd that yell afore. Some ody
hez passed in his checks.”

The natural words, “If a murder has been
committed, they may suspect .us,” struggled to
the road-a ents lips.

Rube di not reply. but with lips firmly set,
was apparently listening to the echoes of the
weird cry that had shaken the still air of the
summer’s night. _ .

But he felt the full force of his companions
utterance. _ _

“ Did you hear me, Rube?” Midnight asked,
impatient] . _

' I bee ,” was the answer. which was almost
drowned by the lonely howling of some gaunt
Indian dogs. " Thor’s a good deal 0’ truth in

 

What you said, Midnight, but a ‘ stifl upper lip’
is the motto. Thar goes the devil-Cr ag’inl
Gosh! it sends chills down a fellar’s baa .”

The cry that had first assailed the friends’ ears
was now repeated—a little more prolonged than
its predecessors, and certainly divested of none
of its repulsiveness.

“ I’m goin’ out,” said the old borderman.
“ The Injuns are turnin’ out; we must not stay
hyar an’ give ’em cause for suspectin’ us, even
if murder hez been done an” we ar’ innercent.”

A moment later the disguised whites stepped
out into the moonlight and into a scene of con‘
fusion utterly indescribable. From everywhere
the Sioux were issuin from the lodges, uttering ,
cries which confirm Rube’s explanation of the ,
first yell. Men, women, children and d scom~
posed the disordered rabble that rushed ward
the dancin square.

The girl- iunters joined the savages, and soon
learned the true cause of the hubbu .

A young Indian stood over the rigid bodgnof
a warrior of his tribe. He was esticula g
wildl as words fell rapidly from his 1i 3.

“ eel-the-Sky hez been found dead— nifed to
the heart,” whispered Rube ttler in anear
which he at first took to’ be Midnight Jackls, but
the next moment, to his horror he discovered
that he had addressed a genuine Sioux warrior,
'who was starin amazed y into his face; - ‘

For a second hat perilous error seemed to un- r
nerve the borderer’s heart; but his quick wit
came to the rescue. ‘

“ The wrong ear, in
Sioux. “ You are not quattin’ fiear.”

_“ Bear over there!” was the reply and the
Indian pointed to the other side of the crowd
formed about the corpse and its finder. ' “ Feel-
thg—Skyds dead. There are bad knives in the
v1 8. e. r

Ru e nodded, and hastened to leave the den.
gerous locality, touching Midnight Jack’s arm
as he moved away, and without a word the '
twain slipped into another part of the awe:
stricken group. i

There was to the assembled savages a In

about Feel—the—Sky’s sudden taking oqflthaltper-l * ' '

plexed them. _

Many; pressed forward and examined the knife
which ad been found liy the corpse, and shook
their heads over it. twas a genuine Sioux
knife without any distin ishing mark. era
was blood on the stag- om handle, and the

same darkvstain on the ragged—edged but  I j 

pointed blade.
The finder of the corpse offered no solution of ‘
the mystery; but there were several young In- ’
dians who exchanged significant glances when
they caught sight of the dead. I _ »
“White girl kill Feel-the-Sky and run 03!”
whispered one.
“Not stron eno .” _
“ White gir ’s quic asacat sometimes. Catch
Feel-the-Sk asleep me : find knife in the '
lodge. If s e no kill Feelsthe-Sky, who did?”
“ Come! we go see.” I 
Determined to set their doubts at rest, the ‘
red triostole secretly from the crowd, _
the uare, and glided toward the sceneot the
tussle tween Feel-the-Sky and his assassin.
They were the Indians who had helped to ‘

brother ” he said in ,, I

 

 

i

16 ' ‘ Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper.

 

snatch Dora Lightwa from her brother’s pro-
tection down on the eadwood trail; they had
witnessed and assisted in the dyeing of the
captive’s skin, and, for a few horses and a rifle
or two, had sold their interest in her to the In-
dian Who now lay dead on the dancing—square,
slain by Mouseskin, the bugler.

“ Sta hyar, or meet me in the lodge,” whis-
pered ube, this time at the right ear. “ Some
young bucks are up to su’thin'."

He had caught enough of the young reds’
words to excite his curiosity, and leaving Mid-
aight Jack in the crowd, glided olf after the

0 net mentioned.

. A ter awhile, when the body-finder had
ceased, and the dogs could to a certain degree
beguieted, Feel-the—Sk ’s body was taken up by
fie ing Sun’s comman , and borne to the lodge.
' Midnight Jack watched the proceedings With
r no little interest, and stepped respectfully back

to let the procession pass.

- He seemed to breathe with joy; the voice of

Tanglefoot had not been raised against him,
‘ and from what opinions he could gather, the

Indian seemed to think that some red a3sassin

had terminated their brother‘s existence—that

an old feud had been settled.

Setting Sun had said that the startling death
hould be investigated in the morning, and be-
fore the beginning of the sun-dance.

Upon this the crowd began to disperse, watch-
ed with interest by Midnight Jack. The female

rtion especially came under his scrutin , for

e was always seekin for one figure, earer

than all others on eart to him. .

Suddenly a voice came from a dusky-faced
group near, by that chilled the life-current in
the road-agent’s heart.

“ They’re here—two of them,” said that start-
ling veioe, not in the Sioux but the English

ten 9.

“fiight in the camp, Golden George! I know
’em, too; but Settin’ Sun an’ the the rest never
dream of the facts.”

“ They’re fools!”

“Who? Midnight an’ the Eagle?”

“ Yes. But what brou ht ’em hyari”

“ The same thing what rought me I suspect

-—the grott’i’est face that ever left old Sully in a

a.
I “Aw to gal?”

“Yes: but come on. I’ll tell the story as we
walk. I’m tired; jest at in. I rode all da
without stopping. Am on the right trail? s
the girl in t e cam i”

How eagerly Mi night Jack leaned forward
to catch t 6 answer that fell from the ll of the

uatt man over whose head tower a crest
0 tea hers! But it was so incoherent that it
tormented him.

“Am I never to find you, Dora?” he said.

, “Doesanother man hunt (you for your .retty

Sane?”1f so let him stan clear of Mi night
’ _  the dumpy man was Old Tanglefoot the
toad—agent was certain. His companion was
straight and well-built and was attired as many
]Indians were, in a cavalry jacket and blue pants.-

eons.
The name Golden George was not unfamiliar
to Midnight Jack. it told him that another

 

foe had risen against him in the very heart of
the Sioux camp.

He did not follow the train; but saw them
disappear.

Thinking of his companion, he resolved to re-
turn to their lodge, and hastened from the un-
comfortable spot.

The Indians on every side were rapidly seek-
ing their wigwams again, full of the scene which
they had just witnessed.

All at once Midnight Jack noticed a figure
standing statue-like at the side of a lodge just
ahead. The starlight fell full upon him, and
the road-agent saw that his face was turned

awa .

“ glow, Golden, I’ll turn the tables!” said Mid-
night, and the next moment with the tread of
the panther he had glided over the well-trodden
ground to the person’s side.

The heavy “ navy ” was clutched in the road-
agent’s hand, and before the imperiled person
was aware of his presence, the muzzle of the
pistol was thrust against the back of his head.

“ There’s death at your brain, Golden George 1”
whispered Midni lit Jack, as his left hand drop—
ped on the start ed man’s shoulder and pre-
vented him from turning round. “One word
of warning and I’ll burst your brain—pan; You
are a man of your word—so am I. Swear to
leave this Indian town immediately—nor to in-
terfere with me here—or by the gold of Ophirl
I’ll kill you now where we stand. No cringingl
Swear! or the bullet!”

The man attacked never turned his head; but
his eyes flashed hate and murder, and he said
through clinched teeth:

“ Curse you, Midnight Jack I swear!”

“ Now, go! Keep your word, Golden George!”

With the last word the revolver and hand
were withdrawn, and Golden George moved elf
without a reply.

“ I wasn’t mistaken 1” Midnight Jack mur-
mured, looking after the retreating figure. v “ It’s
only a question of time. One of us will have to
kill the other, some day. Now, Tanglefoot, look
out for number one.”

Then he added after a pause:

“The boy! I had almost forgotten him. I
wonder if he understood my words? Tangle
foot intends to serve him like the wolf serves the
weak fawn. When did that villain spare a cap-
tive foe?”

“ Yes, when, Midnight?”

The road-agent turned.

Rube Rattler stood before him, and the next
instant the two friends met again.

 

CHAPTER X.
ran SUN-DANCE.

Tan fearless adventurers walked silently to
their lodge and entered. i

There, standing in the gloom, they talked in
low whispers.

Rube had made an important discove .
The dead Indian had been Dora’s captor; this 9
had learned by following the three young bucks
from the square, but beyond this he had not
been able to proceed far.

“Every soul in an Indian town must be pres-

\

   
    
  
 
 
  
    
   
  
   
  
  
   
 
 
     
   
 
 
 
    
  
     
    
   
     
  
   
    
   
  
   
   
    
  
 
   

 

   

‘ Gopher Gld, the Boy Trapper. 1‘7

 

out at a sun—dance—cuptives and all?" sgid Mid-

night.

‘ ' ‘het’s the rule,” was the Eagle’s answer.
“ Tanglefoot will hev the buy out to—inorrer, and
onless—-"

“ Unless what, Rube?"

“ I don’t want to think of it.”

“‘ Keep nothing back. You four that Dora was
the cause of Feel—the—Sky’s death—that there is
a rivalry here for her.”

“ That’s it, Midnight,” said Rube. “We don’t
know who gave the Indian his death dig. Ef_w,e
did, we might see suthin’ what-we can’t see, Jest
now. As it is, we’ve got to wait.” I

“Yes " grated Midnight Jack; “we must, in

all pro ability, go through the sun-dance to-

morrow. But there is one who won’t trouble
,5

“ Golden George?”

“ Golden has departed."

“ Left the camp entirely?”

'“ Yes. I know him; he keeps his world invio-
late. We have but Tanglefoot to deal with.”

“ He’s the only one.”

“And now I’d rather harbor the thought of
facing twenty Sioux than him, to—morrow.”

“ I‘m not goin’ to cross the river till I come to
it,” with a smile which his companion could not
A minute later the two friends had fallen back

1 upon their/scanty pellets, and soon nothing but

the regular breathings o the sleepers was heard
in the gloom.

They am not see the burly figure that crawled
from the rear of their lodge, and some distance
away rose erect like a man.

It walked hurriedly through one of the narrow
Indian streets and entered a connnodious lodge
which bore a. resemblance to the tepees of the
chiefs.

“ Boy?” said the man in a low tone. “Gopher,
ar’ e still with me?”

“ es.” came a boyish voice from the darkest

corner of the tepee.
n I”

“ What was the commotion about? Won’t you
tell me?”

“ Two Injuns fell afoul 0’ each othch—that was
all; and one got a knife in his heart,” laughed
the burly man. “You will see more than a
sun-dance to—morrow, boy.” '

If Tanglefoot could have seen the expression
that came to the little trapper‘s face as he utter-
ed the last sentence, his snaky eyes would have
shone with unwonted light.

“More than the sun-dance?” muttered the,

 “What can he mean?” -

s Tanglefoot parted the buffalo-skin eur-
tain to let fresh air into the close (tepee, without
vdeigning to explain his dark sentence, Gopher
‘Gid resolved that he would not humor him by
:seeking anexplanation when the new day was
so near, tinned over, and went to sleep. '

“More than the sun-dance—yes,_ a devilish
i-sight more!” said Tanglefoot, With inward glee
hat seemed to do him good. “I’ll treat the
Injuns to a sight nfore another sundown that’ll
flll ’em with joy, an” make up fur the loss of my

0.17 .

0 first flush of dawn that stole up the val-
.ley found Red Cloud’s village astn'.

\

The gaunt and hungry natives—for their
three-days’ fasting had rendered them lean and
szwug'o-eycd—cropt from their tepees, or rose
from their beds in the open air, and at once
began to exercise their vocal powers to the dis-
comfort of many cars. '

The inveterate drums were brought forth to
swell the bedlamic din; but the little Sioux’s
trumpet no longer jonled in the tumult.

Mouseskin not to be outdone by his 19,
made an early appearance, but without is g-
gle. He looked ill at ease—his scanty habili-
ments still bore traces of that combat which
had cost one Sioux warrior his life. .

Happily for Mouseskin he was not suspected,
and, chugrined by the loss of the trumpet, he
moved here and t cre almost unnoticed.

As Setting Sun had promised, the mystery
surrounding Feel -thc-Sky’s death was first
taken up‘ but the red detectives found them-
selves at iault from the first, and soon gave over
the hunt.

“ I kin put- my hands on the killer ” said Tan-
glefoot to himself, “an’ before night I’m goin’
to unmask ’11') out thar on the squar . Midnight,
yer end hez come, and you’ll never knock in an—
other whisky-keg, my

Feel—the-Sky’s cowardice disgéayed at -
ter’s last fight did not render tting Sun anx-
ious to discover his murderer, and by noon the
terrible sun-dance opened.

The entire population of Red Cloud’s town
throngcd about the square, in the center of
which the pole of torture stood. ,

Midnight Jack and Rube stood, shoulder to
shoulder not far from the 5 0t Where Ta 16-
footaand Gopher Grid, seat on Indian pon es,
watched the scene.

The twain saw that the b0 ’5 feet were bound
together under the belly of e little beast which
he bestrode, and they noticed, too, that the ani-
mal’s head was entirely bridleless. ' -

self. “ The itt e chap takes it 00011 . He’s t-‘
ting interested in the proceedings. lie has 'or-
gotten we are all here.” ’ ,.
Then the speaker‘s eyes wandered through the -
savage crowds that were visible on every side. ‘
But the only white face that greeted him was ‘
Gopher Grid’s. Old Tanglefoot, the gin-smuggler, '
was arrayed in full Indian dress, one side 0_ his:

other yellow and striped wit black.
This discoloring rendered his, face

his ever-restless eyes.

moment when the god of day reached theme;
ridian. The heat was almost unbearable; the

backs o the Indians with terrible force, and
there was no shady shelter at hand. i , b

At a given signal six young bucks sprung into
the open space and seized the ro es that dangled
from the top of the pole, Gap er Grid noticed
that blood was,stream1ng m profusion from
knife-cuts on their backs and breasts“ Several
were accompanied by friends or assistants, who
assisted in passing the thongs into, the, gushes

 

under the tough rviinews, an

L\

  

gentle Screamin‘ Ea; e!” '

“ He’s fixed Gopher to stay with him!” whis- x
pered Midni hti when an opportunity offered its '

face painted blue and stri ed with white, the '

, rfectly, ‘ “
hideous, and his expression was not “ so tened‘ by  3

l ‘ \ .
The ceremony of the sunvdance opened at that

scorching beams came down upon the naked , .

. y

out again, where  K

,
\

E“.

l

       

18 Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper.’

 

they were knotted to the main ropes, so that
they would not slip out.

Then the self-torturers were left to themselves,
and the dance begun to the uproar of the Indian
drums and whistles, and the yells of the excited
spectators. Ever and anon the young braves
would throw themselves back from the thongs
as if they sought to tear the hardened sinows
out, and these displays of endurance were re.

' ceived with cries of delight from every side.

For several hours this disgusting ceremony
proceeded. Gopher Gid took notice of every—
thing that passed around him; he watched the
show of endurance in the ring until he turned
his face away with a shudder. At last a cry
announced that one of the actors had broken

' through the flesh and fallen to the ground; there
he lay hke one dead, under the broiling heat of
the sun. Another fainted from sheer exhaus-
tion. and was released amid the plaudits of his
V friends but the remaining four promised to

Eclipse hain-in—the—Face’s famous dance of four

ours.

“Thar’s my chancel” ejaculated Rube Rat-
tler as one of the self-torturers was borne from
the scene of his terrible ordeal. “ We’vo got to
’ do suthin" to keep our reputation up. The dogs
bev been eyein’ us fur hours, sayin’, ‘ Why don't
you fellars show yer grit?’ Keep an eye on Tan-
glefoot. Ef they'll let us alone, I’ll beat Rain-
‘ in-the—Face’s time all holler!”

Before Midnight Jack could restrain his com-

nion he was bounding toward the pole, in his

and a bloody knife which, with a well coun-
forfeited Indian yell, he had drawn from be-
neath the old cavalry jacket that loosely fitted
his lank body.

Wild a plause greeted Rube when he was
‘recogntige by the Indians as one of the visit-
ing Te 11 Sioux. and in the presence of all he
thrust one of the bloody wooden skewers be-
neath the garment and made it fast there. His

'yells revived the fainting four hanging half
dead from their torture ropes, and he franti-
cally threw himself back asif in proud conscious-
ness of his strong sinews.

Old Tanglefoot‘s eyes flashed when he recog-
nized the new man at the sun-dance.

“Is the keg-breaker crazy?” he murmured.

, “Why, he needn't make a-showin of his grit.
Bless my blossoms if he’d do that if he knowed
that Timon Moss was so near!”

On, on went that mad sun-dance, and the sun
crept westward as if reluctantly. One by one
the Indians-of the first lot retired victorious
from thehorrible ring and others took their
places, but the Red J ingo still held out.

He entered upon his fifth hour amid the yells
of the whole assemblage.

‘ Midnight Jack looked on in utter amazement.
yefifhe man mad? Had he fainted? or, was be

He longed to go forward and settle this men-
tal conundrum; but the eyes of Squatting Bear
admdnished him to stand still.

More than once during that eventful day their
not too friendly glances had met.

, If Midnight ack had doubted his discovery

* by the gin-trader, be doubted no longer.

“ Thar’s some shenana an about that fellar’s

. holdin’ out, ’ ejaculated 0 dTanglefoot in atone

be

      

 

that roused Gopher Gid. “ He’s not hangin’
fair. .])itl you ever take pertic’lar notice of
him, boy?”

“ Me? No!”

“ Then go‘ an’ look right into his face,” was
the unexpected reply. “Not an Indian ’11 tech
you, fur ye’re under Squattin’ B’ar’s crtec-
tion. Thar! I’ve cut,the foot-cords. 0 an’
look at the skunk!”

Gopher Gid felt a thrill of joy shoot through
his heart as the cords about his feet were sever-
ed, and he lightly sprung to the ground.

“White Fish is goin’ to look at the bravesl”
cried Tanglefoot, and avoice of approval replied
from the chief’s lips.

Gopher Gid did not hesitate, but crossed the
space and halted beside the Red Jingo, whose
body, thrown back, was trying the strength of
the buffalocords.

“ Tanglefoot talked as if I would know the
Indian," said the b0 curiously to himself.
“ Why, he looks like a Indians to me.”

He was looking down into the red face upturn-
ed to the sun. The eyes were closed, the 1i 5
dry anid parched, the heels planted firmly on t e

oun .
grAll at once the ages opened, the lips unclosed,
and these low wor s fell ugon Gopher’s ears: ‘

“ Keep a stiff u per lip, 0y! I’m the Scream-
in’ Eagle of Smo y Root—the Thunderbolt of
the Dark-edged cloud—a reg’lar sky-scra r!”
With a cry of astonishment Gopher Gi start-
edgac'k' ' ' dd n1 ' toh' th 1d

Viper springin su e yin ispa wou
not have startledfiiim more, and he turned a
white face upon his captcr.

“He knows ‘iml” ejaculated Timon Moss.
“The time fur the fun to begin is hyar. Now
I’ll explode a bomb-shell in this durned Injun
camp.’ '

At the last word from the white Indian’s lips,
he urged his pony into the square, while he kept
his devilish eyes fastened upon Midnight Jack.

. “The time has come!” said the road-agent
through clinched teeth, but he did not alter his

position.
Yes, the moment of death had arrived!
' CHAPTER XI. ‘
snorl

MIDNIGHT JACK, without apparently noticing
his eager enemy, drew his revolver.

At that exciting moment, perhaps, he wished
for the beautiful and trusty weapons which he
had hidden in the hollow tree just beyond the
confines of the village: but he secretly resolved
that the one in his right hand should not fail him
at the right moment.

Still betraying that amazement which had
driven him from Rube Rattler’s side, Gopher
Gid stood undecided near the dance-pole.

Rube hung heavily on the buffalo-cord. the hot
sunbeams pelting him in the face. His eyes
seemed shut but through the long lashes he saw
the startled ho , and watched the terrible drama
that was about to begin in the square.

“ Know ’im, eh?” chuckled Tanglefoot, glanc-
ing at Gopher Gid. “ Wal, I'd say yer shmild,
as ye’ve see’d the cha afore. But stan' still,
Gopher, my boy, or I’ let the hull Sioux nation
loose upon you. ‘

 
      
 

 
 

Mfr—\C’AJZWM“ “  ‘ "“"‘

 

 

     

  
     

 

it
i

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gopher Grid, the Boy Trapper. - 10

 

 

Our little trapper replied with a look, and u
glance around him showed how completely he
was in the power of the (lemon on horseback.

All at once ’I‘anglcfoot drew rein, and was
turning his )ony’s head toward Midnight Jack,
when n lou cry came from beyond the crowd
on the cast side of the square.

The peculiar intonation caused no little com-
motion; it startled the chiefs, and Setting Sun
turned to that quarter and commanded the crowd
to make way for the young Indian who was ad-
vancinght a nick gait, holding two glittering
objects above iis head.

An exclamation heard by his nearest compan-
ions fell from the road-agent’s lips as the savage
glided past and bounded into the square.

“ My pistols! I must have hidden them in an
Indian cache!”

Setting Sun and the other head chiefs uttered
exclamations of wonder, as they advanced upon
the Indian who had halted ncar Tanglefoot.

The crowd, at once thrown into a state of
great excitement, began to surge forward; but
the voice of Tiger Tail drove them back.

“ Where did Mouseskin flnd silver pistols?” de-
manded Setting Sun, as he jerked the ornament-
ed weapons from the young Indian’s hands.

“In the hollow of the tree where the chip-
munk hides,” was the response.

The four chiefs instantly came together, and
Midnight Jack saw his pistols passed around to
elicit expressions of praise from the red lips, for
they were silver-mounted and polished to a high
degree.

“ A name in the white man’s talk!” suddenly
cried Setting Sun, pointing to the inscription
“MIDNIGHT JACK ” which was graven on the
barrel of each. “ When did the white man hide
his pretty pistols in the hollow tree? Ah! our
white brother can tell us his name.”

He turned to Tanglefoot as he spoke, and
caught the demon gleam of the villain’s eyeballs.
From the first he had reco 'zed the revolvers,
and he leaned forward to_ to. e one, with a cry of
trium h forming on his lips.

“I’ tell you whose they ar’.” he said, ashe
took the wee on from Setting Sun’s hand.

“ Well do know these shootin’-irons!” and he
held the weapon over his head.

Then he rose erect in the stirrups, and his
right hand was suddenly extended till the dyed
finger pointed straight at the form of Mid-

ght.

“Thar stan’s afore us the man who hid the
pistols!” he cried. “ He could not pull the wool
over Tanglefoot’s eyes. Come out an’ face the
music! An thar hangs the other, playin’ Injun,
an’ foolin’ ye all i” _O

Tanglofoot’s arm had described a crescent,
and the finger was now pointing at ,the Red J in-
go, hanging apparently lifeless from the torture-

co . \

“What! don’t you b’lieve me?” he flashed,
turnin upon the dazed chiefs. “Look over
thar! gHevn’t some of you see'd that painted
fellow.al'ore? Thor! that‘s right! Step out an’
chinthe music!”

MidnightJack had advanced a pace from his
position. . .

There was now a flash in his eyes, which few

 

who noticed it had ever seen before.

\

“I am here!” he cried. in the Sioux tongue,
“ and you are there I”

The rodd~agcntls right hand shot upward as
he spoke the last sentence, and the final word
was drowned by the loud re mm: of his revolver.

The crack was followul y a loud cry; the
uplifted silver-mounted pistol fell over the
Jony’s head, and Old Tanglcfoot, with a head-
ong itch, went to the ground. I

Ru e Rattler straightened in an instant, for
he had witnessed the entire tragedy.

“Stand back!” said the road-agent, calmly,
wheeling upon the yellin red-skins now surg-
ing forwar . “What is t at white—livered dog
that he shouki live a chief among the Sioux
with his hands rcddcned with our brother‘s
blood? Let him be thrown to the buzzards that
watch in the sky for the Carrion. Will our
brethren listen; or must Running Water to de-
fend the deed, which by Indian law 6 has
righteously done, shoot them down, and then die
himself, knife in hand, upon them?”

The road-agent’s words, uttered in good Sioux, ‘

had a startling effect. ,

They stayed the excited crowds: the wild cries
for blood grew still; and Setting Sun advanced
toward thedarin man.

“Go on!” crie the chief. “We will listen to
our Teton brother.” ' ’ i

“ I have but little to say,” was the response,
the speaker’s eyes dancing with delight at the
triumph he had gained. “ uatting earcame
to our lodges long ago. He rought near 0 of
fire-water among us. He lived with us til he
married one of our women; but we would not
call him chief. In the land of the Teton Sioux
he began to steal; he treated his Indian wife
badly, and one night he slew her in the little
Wigwam; not only that, but he slew a brother.
The red wife was Running Water’s sister. He
swore revenge; he has trailed the white Sioux
night and day—he and his brother, the Bed
Jingo. The have found him, and the
water chief ies dead before them. It is the law
of the red-man that the nearest of kin must
avenge. We have done that; in the camp of the
southern Sioux we have a used our sister’s
spirit. What say Setting un and the chiefs?
Has Running Water broken the laws that our
fathers made long ago?”

“ By the jumpin’ Jingo what a
lated the Red Jingo, as Jahani ht ack finished,
and with folded arms, after t 9 Indian fashion,
waited for a re ly.

He was the o rved of all observers.

He stood erect in the hour of his victory. '
knowing that the lips which had almost de-‘

nounc him to death were speechless. . .
Beyond a slight murmur of rough applause
that had greeted his speech, no sound, fol-
lowed it.
“ Go on!” he cried to the four chiefs, who-were
looking undecided into each other'acyes.
Setting Sun glanced at Tanglefoot. who had
not moved a muscle since his unceremonious de

» scent from the saddle.

“I say the same!” suddenly broke in a harsh
voice. and Rube Rattler sprun back from the
cord which he threw away. “ 9 he 9 tracked
the white dog down. an’ Runnin’ star has
carried out the law of our people." .

9

fire"

ech !" ejacu-

    

/

  

  

   

20 Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper.

And to Gopher Gid, near whom his spring
and landed him, he said, in a startling under-

us:

“We’ve got the winnin’ kerds. boy. I’m still
the Screamin’ Eagle of Smoky Roost.”

“ The law of the Indians has not been broken 1”
said Setting Sun, at last. “ Squatting Beer is
not red. Red Cloud made him a chief; he got
not his feathers on the war-path; he never hung
in the sun-dance; his blood is not Sioux blood; it
is thinner than the blood of our people. What
say our people? Has our Tetou brother broken
the law?”

Au imperious wave of the hand accompanied
/the Indian’s question, and the wild yell that an-
swered it told Midnight Jack that his terrible
derm'er resort was approved.

He walked forward and unflinchingly took
the extended hands of the chiefs, and saw Go—
pher Gid starin at him with distended eyes.

“Shall the w ire dog lie on Sioux ground?”
said one of the older chiefs, bestowing a look of
disgust upon Tanglefoot’s body.

‘ No!” thundered Setting Sun. “ Let him be
carried up among the trees, that the flesh-eaters
of the sky shah not come to earth to devour
him. To the trees with him! Where are our
people?"

A few moments sufl‘iced for some Indians to

' place Tanglefoot upon his pony, and, with a

geam of joy in his eyes, Gopher Gid saw him
me away.

The sun went down.

Its last rays saw the opening of the feast that
follows the sun-dance' it was Midnight Jack

. gliding through the village, hunting for his sis-

ter Dora.

Suddenly a hand was laid on his arm, and he
\beheld Mouseskiu standing at his side.

“ SquattingBear had friends; they are whis-
pering together. They say that the skin of our

eton brother is white, but they lie. They are
mad; they swear to avenge the death of the
white Sioux.”

“ Notvout of the fire yet!” muttered the road-

. agent; and then he drew the bay aside.

“ You are our brother?”

r - “ Yes; the whisggring Indians lie. Squatting

r once kicked ouseskin.”

‘ You know all the lodges, Mouseskin?”
> H  '

“Where is the white girl that Feel-the-Sky
brought to the Wigwam?” ,

The Sioux boy started at the mention of his
victim’s name, and glanced around suspiciously.
‘- he came up to Midnight Jack with a look
of trust in his eyes. ~

“‘Will Running Water keep the words that
Mouseskin gives him?” asked the boy.

“ Running Water will keep them.”

Then from the lips of the Sioux fell the story.
of his fight with Feel-the—Sky; his discomflture
by Dora followed. -

-' ,Midni ht listened without a word until the

bov flms ed.
“But the captive?”
“ She it was who struck Mouseskin and took
horn.” » ‘
~ H  I” I
The road- ent started back.
Could the 0y, have spoken truly? Was his

young sister alone in the woods of Sioux-land,
and liable to fall into the hands of Golden
George?

The thought roused Midnight Jack.

“ Where is my brother?”

“ Down at the dog-feast.”

“And the white boy?”

Before Mouseskin could reply there came from
the cottonwood forest the barking of myriads of
Indian dogs.

“What means that, Mouscskin?”ocried the
road-agent, grasping the red boy‘s arm.

“ The white boy!” exclaimed the little Sioux.
“ The red boys have taken him into the‘ woods;
they have tied him to a tree, and set the hungry
do s upon him.”

he road»agent could not repress a cry of
horror; if it did not betray him to Mouseskin,
it made the boy fix a strange stare upon his
painted face.

And when he thought of the hundreds of
gaunt wolfish dogs which he had seen since his
entrance into the Indian Village, and pictured
in his imagination the awful ril that environ-
ed Go her Grid. he darted su denly away leav-
ing ouseskin bewildered in his tracks.

 

CHAPTER XII.
cusran’s BUGLE.

“ IF I could steal back and get the drop on
you, Midnight Jack! No! that would not be
‘fair after my word
curse my stupid ears,that would not hear
his step! It’s only a question of time; we're
bound to meet; my errand to this part of In-
dian-land makes that meeting one of the cer-
tainties of the future. Beyond that red town
no promise binds lden George. He is the
tiger unchaincd! he will possess that retty
face that left Fort Sully in a wagon no long
ago—that girl who is hunting for the brother
driven from home by a father’s curse! Mine!
mine! in pretty bird; you shall be mine! The
hand of idnight Jack shall not keep you from
George Antill's arms. The nabohs of Dead-
wood shall soon admire the child wife of Golden
George, the Tiger of the West.”

Thus spoke the individual whom the road-
agent drove from Red Cloud’s village in the
summary manner which we have already de-
scribed.

He stood on a hill whose summit overlooked
the wigwams appearing ghostly in the star-
light. He was a handsome man: the paint on
his face could not conceal this fact. His figure,
tall and gracdul. was admirably poised; his
dark hair, now devoid of the oil which had help-
ed to make him a dandy in Deadwood, almost
touched his shoulders. and the words as they
rfell from his lips possessed a soft intonation that
proved that Golden George could play the lover
when occasion required. ,

He was widely known. . At Fort Sully he had
gambled in the ofl‘lcers’ quarters; in the cam
of the Nation’s wards he had participated 11
many a wild orgy; a smiling fellow but a. dead
shot: a tiger when aroused. No one had ever
caught this free rover in a lie: he spurned a
falsehood; he made love as Golden George. and
in the same character he went to the Pacific

 

He forced it from me—‘

      
   
   
   
  
   
  
  
    
   
  
   
  
  
   
 
 
    
  
   
  
 
 
   
   
 
  
   
  
 
   
  
  
  
   
   
   
   
  

a»

         
 

Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper.

21

 

Coast and fought the tiger openly in tho gilded
dens of Frisco.

Dora Lightway stopped at Fort Sully on her
we West. Her beauty had attracted the Ti—
gers attention; but as he was engaged in a
series of games which bound him to the cloth
for the time being, she passed from his sight.
But he was not long in following the vehicle
that bore her away. He came up with it in the
spot where we saw it last, still laden with the

hastliest cargo that ever filled a Conestoga.

9 saw the oath of vengeance which Midnight
Jack had chalked on the side of the den th—cart.
He took the back trail to the spot of the second
battle, and from that to the Sioux village. He
expected to find the beautiful object of his
search there, and did not dream of meeting
Midnight Jack.

So much for Golden George’s past connection
with our story.

For a long time he stood on the hill with the
, red-skins’ village nestling at his feet. The fires

-in the square were burning low, the dogs—those

gaunt canines that infest the Indian camps-

were still prowling around, but quietly.

“Have I missed her?” he thought. “Did I
ride to this place to meet—Midnight Jack and
not the little syl h? Tanglefoot says he knows
of no captive in e villa ezand if she were here
would he not know it? ust I 0 back and be—
gin that trail anew? It woul take me from
that old foe of mine, and it is written that we
must meet and fight to the death. Why delay
that time? Why not go back—down into the
villa e and call him out? My word—ay, that’s
it. olden George keeps that!”

A moment later the hillock was deserted.

“ I will not go away! To—morrow is the sun-
dance. Tangletoot will tear Midnight’s mask
oiT. I will wait for that event; then I will go
back.” v

Not far from the hill the speaker came sudden-
ly upon a lithe-limbed horse, secured by a leath-
ern tether to a young cottonwood. The cord
permitted the steed to pick at the sparse herbage
that grew about the roots of the tree, and a
light whinny greeted the Sport.

“I came back soon, eh?” ejaculated Golden,
patting the symmetrical neck of the black horse.
“ Left the village rather unexpectedly: was po-
litely invited out, and accepted the invitation
with alacrity. Ha! ha! ha!”

From among the low hanging limbs of the
cottonwood the Sport drew a light saddle. which
he speedily adjusted to the horse’s back, and
sprung into the leathern seat.

“ I don’t like this Indian guise l” he said vexa—
tiously. “I’m not at home in it, and then
Golden George is not obliged to wear it in Sioux-
land, anyway. ‘

As he rode from the snot Where he had found
his horse. he threw off the rough cavalry jacket
which fitted his body, and drew a soft but from
his bomm: then a little water from the canteen
that was hidden by one of the sku'ts of the sad-
dle, removed the coloring from face and hands,
and as he passed the belt of timber and emerged
upon a little oneu country, lit up by the rising
moon, he was Golden George, the Sport, not the
mock Indian of the Sioux town.

“ The shanty is still up in Powder Valley," he

 

said to himself. “ I’ll go down there. To-mor-
:ovvlgight I’ll come back and strike the right
rai . ~

He now gave his horse the spurs, which he had
clafiJped to his heels, and the animal cantered
lig tly away.

Gently the village was left behind, and the
%ueen of the skies saw the handsome Sport of

eadwood galloping across the lovely country
which lay bewitching in hill, dale, and silvery
stream beneath her gorgeous throne.

“ Hist!" _

The horse stopped suddenly and threw his
slender ears erect.

“A horn, by my lifel" ejaculated the Sport,
a look of surprise in his eyes. “It sounds like
a military bulgle; but there are no troops in
these arts. ’ni near no Government station.
They love wild stories about Deadwood, that

the ghost of Custer‘s bugler haunts this Indian 1
land; but that’s all bosh—old women’s twaddle.

A hm n it is—no! a trumpet—there it goesagaln.

Ghost or not, that trumpet belongs to some regi- ' 1'

ment.”
Across the little valley that seemed to termi-

nate abruptly in darkness, came the distinct r

music of the bugle.

The horse heard it and turned his head upon his
master. as if to ask for a solution of the mystery.

“ So it puzzles you, eh!” smiled the Sport, no-
ticing his steed’s action.

Once more the notes came across the moon-
lighth valley.

“It is beyond the timber; at the river. A
company of cavalry after all, perhaps; but
from whose comman 3”

Still iuzzled but determined to solve the mys-
tery, t e Sport galloped ahead again, crossed
the valley, penetrated the timber. and saw the
moonlight on the waves of the swift little river
that‘rushed toward the broad bosom of the Mis-
souri. ~ / , -

“Now blow your trumpet, ghost or so ierl"
said Golden George banteringly, as he rewa
revolver. ,

But he was not rewarded with a single blast.

“Fooled! deluded!" he said. putting up the
pistol. “ Now back to Powder Valley, and never

.a word about this ghostly sell.”

He turned his horse‘s head up the stream .to '
whose bank he had ridden, and the animal was .

already obeyinflr the pressure of the spurs, when
Golden sudden y drew rein. '

Another moment and he was on the ground,
holding in his hands a beautiful silver bugle up-
on whose shining surface could be seen the in-
scription “Seventh Cavalry, U. S. A.” The
mystified look in the Sport’s eyes was complete:
and he at that moment would have formed an
ex uisite study for the painter.

or many moments he could not speak. He
turned the little trumpet over and over in bi
hands. read the legend a hundred times, and at
last put it to his lips. ,

“I’ll blow ‘a blast,” he thought. “Maybe it
will bring the ghast beck." ‘

Then a musical call. weird but beautiful.
came from the mouth of the historic bugle, and
Golden George listened With a smile at the ech~
oes that came back from the wood.

But another sound accompaniedthom. It

 

 

 

 

     
    
  
   
   
 
 
 
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
 
    
    
    
    
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
    
  
 
    
  
    
   
   
 
      

l

LX'

28 Gopher Gid. the Boy Trapper.

 

made the Sport snatch the bugle from his own
lips and turn about. v

“ What was that, horse?” he cried. “ No echo,
on m life! You heard it—ay, and so did I!”

“ ere!” came a voice from a spot not far
away. “ You are white, and tome you mustlbe
a friend. Heaven must have directed you to
the trumpet. My weak hands could hold it no

logger.”

lden George was advancing with rapid
strides upon the as yet unseen speaker, and al-
most suddenly he came upon a girlish figure.

“I am a friend to the helpless!” he said.
“ What? 8, 'rl, by my life! Hear en must have
guided me ither. ‘

The next moment they met, and Golden
George took the outstretched hands of the sud-
denly discovered one.

“ Ah! your face is white!” cried the girl, with
by, as be here her toward his horse waiting for

‘m in the moonlight. “I blew with the faint

‘ hope that a. friend would hear, and you came.
Oh, many thanks for this deliverance. I am
' not to go back to the Indian lodges! I have a

‘ fiefector now. No! I am not an Indian girl.

ev dyed my skin—they—-—”

"‘I see you are not Indian,” interrupted the
Sport. “ Your face shall not be turned toward
the wi wams again.”

He elt the lithe figure creep nearer to his
heart: he saw implicit confidence in the swim-
ming: eyes upturned to him.

“I know on!" he continued, looking down
upon her. ‘You are the little lady who stole
the hearts of the young blue-coats at Fort Sully
a. few days ago.”

A blush chased some of the pallor from the
fair irl’s cheeks, and her lustre eyes fell.

“Ewes there!” she said. “ ut did I meet

you at the Station? I met so many kind people

there that I forget—”

“We did not meet, but I saw you,” was the
reply. “ My name is Antill—George Antill—at
your service.” .

" Mr. Antill-—”

“ Pardon me 1” he continued. “I want to tell
mu all. ,They call me Golden George, beyond

a Missouri—I mean west of the river.”

.. “ What!" cried the girl, starting up and star-

ing into the handsome, triumphant face of the
' Sport. “Golden George, the gambler—the

wickedest man in the Far West? The eflicers’
’ wives told mo to look out for you. Merciful

Father! did I leave the Indians to fall into your

hands?"

” So it seems, my little girl,” was the response.
“The ladies of Fort Sully don’t like me, and I
don't care that! for any woman in the wide
world but Dora Lightway. That’s your name,
I helievel?‘

A cry of despair wellerl from Dora‘s heart.

The sun of the Sport’s fingers and his words

I sounded 1i e the knell of doom in her ears

iWith a powerful effort she started back, but
Golden George pounced upon her like an eagle,
and the next moment his eyes were flashing like
a. triumphant demon‘s above her.

CHAPTEI? x111.
' . some om AND ran noes.
. Ova old friend, the Screaming Eagle, noticed

' and his last cargo of fire-water had

 

he figure of the road-agent as it neared the
spot where he stood, and gliding toward it, ap-
parently unperceived, the twain met in the
shadow of a Wigwam.

“ Wal, Midnight?"

“Let me talk,” was the low response, which
told that the speaker had something importzmt
to communicate. “Dora isrcally alive! She is
a fugitive out there somewhere. The reds are
forming a secret cabal against us. We must
depart. Do you hear these dogs?”

‘ They‘re mournin’ fur their roasted bro-
thcrsl”

“Not for them,” said Midui ht. “The In-
dian boys aresctting them upon 1: 0 boy!”

“ Gopher?”

“ Gopher Gid l”

“ I told ’im to go to the lodge and trust in us,”
saidyRuhc, surprised. “The Injun boys, you

. 2‘
SJK“YOSIH

“ Every one is a little devil.”

“There’s only one good one in the cursed
camp, and I've just left him " was the response,
and the speaker resumed )efore the puzzled
borderer could utter a word: “ I don’t intend
to leave him to die thus, Rube. Go back, dis~
arm suspicion, get the horses; you know the
corral; you know where to lead them. let no
grass grow under your feet. We have much to
gel;l ,we are still in the mouth of this human

e l

“ An’ the jaws ar’ likely to close on us, too!”
muttered the Eagle as he hurried from his

partner.

Night had closed about the Sioux camp. The
inhabitants were greedin breaking their three
days’ fast by savage attacks on roasted do 5
throughout the village. They seemed to care
for nothing but the appearance of ravenous ap-
petites.

Old Tanglefoot’s body had been borne from
the village into the midst of the dense cotton-
wood forest. The red arms had hoisted it far
up among the branches of a tree, and made it
fast with bull’alo-cords.

Ay, in the tree—top the wind would rock him
gently while he slept that long sleeg of death,

een hauled
over the Deadwood trail!

But let us to another Stene.

Gopher Gid. bewildered by the sudden ter-
mination of the sun-dance, found himself com-
paratively unnoticed. All eyes were directed
upon Midnight J ilck, now known to the boy.

“ Back to yer lodge, boy !" said a voice at his
ear. “Don’t try to git away of your own ac-
cord. We’ll be arter ye to-night.”

Gopher did not look into the speaker’s face; he
recognized the voice of Rube Rattler; and, say-
ing, “I will trust you,” he glided away, and
crept into the lodge which he had lately left as
Timon Moss‘s prisoner.

“ This luck will not last forever!" he ejacu-
lated. “ I could escane—could reach the cotton-
woods and find the river. I could go back to the
home in the hill. But I will not desert them.
Braver men never entered an Indian camp—a
luckier shot than Midnight’s was never made. A
tree fora coffin, Timon Moss! Ahl no more
whisky-smuggling over this border, You said

WW My}; . ,.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gopher Gld, the Boy Trapper.

 

I’d never see my hole in the ground again. False
prophet! not one of my traps will ever touch
your vile fingers! Where is Midnight’s sister?
Ahl there is the puzzlel Is she here? Am 1
near that girl who seems a myth i”

The boy ceased, and the subject grow deeper
as he talked, and he resolved to hide the pro-
mised coming of his two friends.

The sun went down' the darkness came and
at last a slight noise drew Gopher to the cur-
trains.

“Deceivedl” he said.
ste . A dog, perhaps—” _

fit that moment a dark figure sprung into
the lodge and the little trapper went down be-
fore it. He felt the naked arm of an Indian
about him, and the next moment the Wigwam
was filled with an unseen, jabbering crowd.

Resistance was in vain; the boy was over-
powered and almost before he could recover his
scattered thoughts, he found himself being drag-
ged unceremoniously through the street. The

gures of his captors, as he saw them in the
starlight, were t ose of boys of his own age.
There were sixty or more, and their savage de-
li ht knew no bounds.

ut Go her Gid saw more than that during
that forced journey. For each boy, there seein-
ed at least two dogs. There were canines of all
species, sizes and conditions; the mangy cur,
t e gaunt bull-hound, the deer—slayer. They re-
sembled a pack of wolves, leaping over one
another, snapping, snarling, and actually hit-
ing, all the time making nirht hideous with
their yelps. Gopher Grid was urried toward a
fate which Indian ingenuity had devised.

On. on went the Indian boys with their help-
less victim. Two of the stoutest—real little
athletes—griped the young trapper’s arms, and
at a rapid pace he was jerked over logs and
rattled across the open space, until. at last, the
torturing band came to a halt. The middle of
the cottonwood forest had been reached; and as
the boy trapper was thrown to the ground, ex-
hausted and with arms seemingly wrenched
from their sockets, the dogs rushed upon him With
yells of glee. But the red he s made an attack
upon the animals and ~cluhhe them back with-
out mercy. so that Gopher Gid made a mira-
culous escape from their teeth.

In the midst of the boy's conjectures as to
the fate in store for him, he was jerked to his
feet and lashed to the tree under whose wide-
spreading branches he had been released.

Gopher Grid’s arms were left free: but cords
secured his legs to the stately cottonwood.

“ Are they going;r to give me a. chance?” ass-
ed through his mind. “ A good club woul not
come amiss, and I’d agree to furnish meat for
the next dog-feast.”

And the boy laughed grimly, and his eyes
flashed with delight as a long stick, green and
stout, was thrust forward.

“Boy fight the dogs!” said the leader of the
bovs in tolerable English. “If he kill ’em all
Indians let ’im go, inebhe. White boy afoard
to meet ’cm?” ’

“Afraid? No, you scarlet imps of Tonhct!”
was the response as Gopher’s hands closed about
the cudgel. “ If you want to try the muscle of

“ I thought I heard a

 

Gopher Girl, gust whip your hounds off and come
at me yoursc ves.”

The crowd dr‘ w back and the boy saw that
the largest dogs were now held in leash with
buffalo-cords, a reserve, probably, for the climax
of the torture.

Torches now began to light up the cottonwood
glade, and more fully revealed his situation to
Go her Gid. He had been carried from the
vil age without the connivance of a single adult
Sioux: but he did not know this. The Indian
boys had carried out the plot they had formed
and Mouseskin’s startling declaration to Midnight
J ack was sterner in reality than even the road-
agent could imagine. .

A semicircle was formed before the little
trapper, and one of the scarlet imps suddenly

ic {ed up a our and tosst him at the captive.

ut the quiet eyes of the trapper antimpated
the dog’s destination. and down came the club
while yet he was in mid-air.

A death-yelp followed the blow, and the little
creature dropped to the ground to quiver for a
moment in the agonies of death. .

Yells of boyish delight greeted this scene, and

the curs were hissed forward. They rushed up- ,

on the captive as they would have darted upon
a helpless badger: but the club which descended
as Gopher Gid bent his body eagerly forward
sent t em howling back, with several of their
number on the dead list. '

.“Lot the little dogs go back to their half-
th‘kod bones!” cried the voice of the boy leader.

They are not Indian dogs: they come from the _
Now let the dog-/'

forts of the White soldiers.
fighter look to his pale skin. Cut the cords of
the Kingdogs! Let them fasten their teeth in
the meat of the white boy.” v \

Gopher Gid braced himself for the ordeal.

He saw the leashes Sl‘lppf’d from the heads of ‘ I r 

the gaunt dogs, long, impatient for the dreadful

(Week, and then they darted forward with fur)”

and death in their aspect.

“ Heaven help me!” called the little trap r.
21‘ ngiat can I do with fifty bloodthirsty Infill

ogs ’ _

The reserve did not shrink from the combat,
but sprung like famished Wolves at the boy.
The foremost received a blow that smashed his
skull and stretched him lifeless among his smaller
companions.

Then blow after blow was dealt in in id sue-' I

cossion, the savages pressing up wit their
torches and urging on the dogs, which had an-
tered with glee into the mad conflict.

Now the glade run with a rfect bodlam of

demoniac cries; the 05:5 avoi ed the club with ,-
animal dexterity. but the doomed boy managed ‘

to keep their teeth as yet from his person. 1

It was a terrible battle, such as was never-seen
in the heart of Sioux land. With bloodless lips
firmly pressed together, and eyes flashing, but-
not with anticipated victory, Gopher Gid strug-
gled against the mad do

8‘5- .
“To 1;. death l” he saigl, suddenly. “I am .

doomech die! After all,
false prophet l”

Up went that bloody cudgel for the last des-
perate struggle, but it did not demand. ‘ ‘

imon Moss is not a

Something seemed to have caught it among .

the branches of the tree.

 

 

 

 

y.
\..

 

24

 

 

Astonished, Gopher Gid looked up,,and the
sight that greeted his eyes caused him for tho
nonoe to forget the army of dogs that were
char 'ng down upon him to finish the contest.

1 W at did he see?

1' A naked arm thrust through the foliage from

!. flags, and his cudgel griped by a great white
' n !

 

CHAPTER XIV.

I ' CAUGHT BY THE DEAD.

THE face of the owner of that hand was not
visible.

Gopher Gid tried to wrench his club from the
clutches of the ashen fingers, but his effort was
not suffiment for the purpose.

“Devil! ghost! give me my stick! The dogs
will tear me, to pieces. Do you want me to die

\ thus?”

r , But the hand still held on to the cudgel, and
l the little tra. er fell back with a despairing
i:  heart. The 5 wk slipped from his fingers, and

hung suspended from that ghostly hand. .
“Mercy! mercy!” shouted the boy, in the
avony of that hour.
he dogs rushed upon him.
Onewolfish animal sprung upon his breast,
, but, nerving himself to the energy of despera-
 tion, he seized the brute at the throat, and,
f r ’ with a strength that seemed supernatural, tore
him off, and flung him snarling and mad among
his companions. Again and again the beast
, sprung .to the contest, over the heads of his
. , cgmpanions; but as often was he thrust back by
 v ' t ebo . i
t ' “ 13321;, dogs!” suddenly cried the leader of the
Sioux youths, in his own tongue. “ White boy’s
club catch among the limbs. He shall have it to
fight with.” ‘
With a yell that would have done credit to a
' full-grown warrior, the Indian boy leaped among
> the dogs, and, at the risk of getting his own skin
» torn, by their teeth beat them back with a torch
‘ and halted before Gopher.
. “White fighter shall rest!” he said. “Him
brave as Sioux warrior. He shall fight dogs
with club which catch in tree.”
Gopher Gid did not reply. The battle with
the dogs had exhausted him. There was blood
. on his hands, his face; and his nether garments
 /Were hanging in threads upon his limbs. Human
 , ~ endurance could go no further, the brutality
of hisca tors had almost extinguished his can-
‘dle of lie; he could but look at the boy who
stood before him, and point to the stick dang-
r-h  over his head, and still griped by the spec-
' tr hand. I
, The young savage lifted his eyes, and stared
aghast at the apparition.

hey seemed to retreat, affrighted, deep into
their sockets, and all at once, with a startling
cry, he sprunv back among his companions.

‘ The Evil’Spirit catch boy’s stick! It reach-
es clear down from sky! Look! look; my bro-
thers!” r\

The remainino' youths, full of curiosity. not
unmixed with lfear. came forward. Torches
blazed for a moment about Gopher Gid, and
then retreated suddenly, their holders uttering
cries of terror. There was a further exhibition

 

 

I

. I _ n
I - .r '
«_ ‘ , . ‘
\

 

Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper.

 

of cowardice on the boy Sioux’s part; the
turned and fled, frightened almost out of the r‘
wits by the hand which their su erstition had.
called that of the Evil Spirit, 1111 or whose pro—-
tection Gopher Gid must be.

But, all did not immediately fly.

The leader sprung forward again; but did not»
glance at the hand. He now had no dogs to beat.
back; the animals were flying with their owners,.
glad, no doubt, to escape from the death-dealing
club, or sharing the terror of their red-skinned.
masters.

The Indian boy leaped to the foot of the tree.

“Wachetoc, the Bad Spirit, cannot set the
white boy free,” he said, showing the knife that
glistencd in his right hand. ‘ He has fought
well; he shall live, but he must go away.”

Then the knife, sharp and keen, out the cords
that bound the boy’s legs to the cottonwood, and
as he tattered forward like a drunken man, the
liberator, with a horrified glance at the ghostly
hand overhead, snatched up his torch and ran

 

hm. .r”~‘°'»-W-—S" g:

Gopher Gid could hard] realize his good for-
tune. His limbs, crampe by the cords, could
not support the weight of his body, and he fell
heavily forward. where he lay among the dogs
which his cud e1 had slain.

“I am free!’ he exclaims. “The hole in the
hill shall see me yet. What is the use of des-
pairing while life lasts? That devilish hand has
saved me. Now if Midnight Jack and Rube
were here! Hark! what was thati—the club
has fallen down!”

The little trapper dragged his bruisod body
to the foot of the tree, and saw the stout cudgel
lying on the ground. The hand had released

It. I

“That hand is dead now!” said Gopher Gid,
looking up, and seeing the outline of the mys-
terious arm above him. “ Did they not bury
Tanglefoot in a tree? Maybe Midni ht’s bullet
did not kill the old fellow. Ah! w at if that
arm is his? But they lifted him hi h among
the branches—tied him fast with buflifio thou .
I heard one of the party tell the story after '3
return.

Gopher Gid could not take his e as from the
hand that dangled above his hea . It was al-t
most within his reach. The moonlight stream-
ing through an opening in the foliage revealed
it to him. but, pertinaciously concealed the face'

...- e. 1% 5...“.--

 

,5

.\

which must be above.

“It is Tanglefoot’s hand I” he suddenly cried.
“There is the broken finger. But, why does
he not speak—why not come down? Why not? '.
He is dead! That is it. He held the club un- .5 .
til life became extinct; then it dropped from ~
his hand. This must be so. I will feel the old i
chap’s pulse before I get away.” . , ..
Eager to set his doubts at rest Gopher Gid !
stood on tiptoes, but could barely touch the
fingers. He then drew the carcasses of several 1
of the dogs out of the fallen brutes to the spot,
and mounted the pile with better success.’
"Aha! I’m high enough now, thanks tomy
club!” he cried, and this time his fingers touch-
ed the white wrist.
But the next moment a piercing cry walled
from his throat, and starting back he slipped

q- "“::; ,

 

 

 

 

l
i,
3
v
i

..-V w.)

v~—-—'-‘“‘ i

Gopher Gid, th’e Boy Trapper;

25

 

from the carcass, to find himself swinging in
mid—air, caught in the strongest of man-traps.
His touch ha quickened the ianging hand into
life; if he had sprung a trigger in the wrist it
would not have closed the quicker; and before he
could withdraw his fingers, he was in the power
of the hastly trap.

The ittle trappor’s toes barely touched the
ground, and he tried in vain to wrench his hand
from the trap, and to drag the man from his
perch in the tree.

“Out of the frying-pan into the fire!“ ex-
claimed Gopher, in no good humor“ “I have
caught myself. The fingers are getting cold-—
as cold as ice! Is Tanglefoot really dead ?”

Then he called aloud:

“ Can’t you come down? I am in your hands,
Timon Moss. I cannot get away. Midnight did
not finish you, then?”

But not a word in reply.

The leaves above him did not stir—there was
no breeze.

“ I shall go mad i” cried Gopher Gid. “ Must
I yell to bring the Indians back? They could
hear me at the camp—Midnight and Rube. I
will shout even though I rouse the devils at the
dog—feast. Tanglefoot is dead! That coldJiand
belongs to no living being i”

The boy lifted his voice and sent it through
the forest again and again, the shrill cry of
“Help! help!” went down the grassy aisles of
the wood but elicited no response.

From the direction of the camp came a series
of yells that seemed curious to the entrapped
boy. He grew silent and listened; he heard the
Indian drums, the yelps of dogs, the cries of
savages.

“The orgies after the dog-feast!” he said to
himself. ’

To be held in mid-air by the hand of a dead
man :is not calculated to create pleasant sensa—
tions, even in the heart of the bravest indi-
vidual. ‘ .

Gopher no longer looked at the hand; his eyes
were other where. He was trying to make out
the figures that had crept across a belt of moon-
li ht and disappeared not far away.

e had seen them for a moment; but in that
brief period of time had recognized them as In-
dians. ,

Were they hunting him? Had the red boys
told the story of the s ectral hand at the vi]-
lage, and was he to fa] into the power of the
Sioux?

The boy’s orbs were strained to keep track .of
the stooping fi res now in the wood. ' Mid-
iiight' Jack and ube might be among them, for
they wore the garments of the Sioux.

But the figures left him perplexed, mystified,
despairing! _

Daylight would soon come. Was that dread-
ful hand to hold him there forever? Never was
prisoner better secured than he!

“I will end this 1” he cried. “If I cannot pull
in dead foe down I will climb up to him.
he ever was caught by a dead man before?”

Gopher Gid now tried to carry his newly
formed project into execution. He swung him-

self against the tree, and when he had estab-
lished a good momentum, he caught a limb
with his only free hand and drew his body over ~.

I

 

it. But his other wrist was still griped by "i
the deadly fingers! ,

He paused for breath and then' parted the
leafies that hid the body of his captor from his
sig t.

“ J ust as I expected!” he cried, starting back
despite his words. “ Tanglefoot was not killed
in the camp. They put him alive in this tree.
Ah! he could not come clear down; this rope
hold him fast; it lowered him to this lace but
would help him no further. Dead? ead as a '
herring,”

The loated but white face of Timon Moss
was upturned to the little trapper. The Indians
had washed it before burial, as if unwilling that r
the coward of the Rosebud should be buried
with a scarlet skin. The little eyes were star-
ingr upward, expressionless, but shining still;
the body lay upon two limbs, and the rope
which reached for above and lost itself amen

the branches, told the boy that it was fasten "

in the top of the tree. »
Tunglcfoot regained consciousness to find
himself imniolated in the top of the tree.

The Indians had spared the gin-smuggler’his, 

revolver which stil stuck in his belt. It 'was
soon in Gopher Gid’s hands. , . ' .
“It shall free me!” he cried. as he snatched
it forth and set the hammer.
the trap that holds my hand.”
With eyes that flashed for joy Gopher Gid
leaned over the hand that clutched his wrist. :3

He thrust the muzzle of the revolver against , 

the lifeless pulse and touched the trigger.

There came a flash, a dull report, and the boy
jerked his hand loose!

The arm of tne dead was still hanging rigid '
from the folia e, but the wrist was so shattered

as to be scarce y able to support the weight of 

the hand that dangled from 1
“Good-by, Tanglefootl” said the boy hero; v
leaping to the ground. “I’m rid of you for,-
ever. Now I’ll see the cave in the hill again i” , 
But, he did not hasten from the spot. ' . .
“They are over there in the camp!” he said. 

“ They were going to help me to-night—Rube‘ _~

said so. Should I desert them? That would '
not be fair. Old Rube has hrlped me—he has
saved me from Tanglefoot’s revolver. And
Midnight Jack’s sister is yonder—that girl for
whom Gopher Gid would risk his life, if he
never has seen her i”

A moment later.the b0
the scene of his exciting a ventures—hastenin
straight toward the Sioux village, to be near h \
friends, who might be in danger. '

“I wouldn’t be worth shucks iflI left them ,
now!” he said. '

“One good turn deserves am
other. I’m nobody in particular. I’Ve got
nothing to live for. Nothing? Ah,_I wonder if
a fellow feels like as I do when he’s in love."

The he smiled to himself, even laughed: but - n

he cea abru tly, for, not twenty feet away »

an Indian was (ii-inking from a spring that bu'bz

bled from the ground. _ '
Gopher Gld cocked the revolver in his hand.

to see the. savage leap to his feet and seize a re- 7 -_

ting rifle. _ . ,

“Setting Siml”eei;|aculated the little trapper, ‘
and then he touch the trigge . .'

But the hammer fell with a sharp click upon '

“It shall unlock ' «

was gliding from? ,1

 

   
     

 

 

 
 
 

 

 

 

standing an amazed s
' where he had first halted. Then he turned to

Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper.

 

the empty cartridge, and the Sioux chief uttered
a or of sarcastic trium h thereat.

“ ‘11 try again,” was ‘opher Grid’s reply; but
the same result ensued.

With an exclamation of rage the little trapper
threw the pistol at his feet.

He was at the mercy of Setting Sun, for he
stood in the moonlight, a splendid target for the
Indian’s aim.

“ Shoot 1” he said, aloud. “ Better to be killed
by an Indian than die by dogs or a dead gin-
trader’s hand I” .

" In response to his words, the chief’s face drop-
Eed to the stock of his handsome rifle. Gopher

id saw his eyes scintillate at the butt of the
barrel.

“ I’ll face death with my eyes wide open !" he
thought. “ I guess I’ll never see you, Dora!”

Then came t 9 clear, ringing report of a rifle.

It awoke the echoes of the romantic little
galade, in which Gopher Grid and his executioner

drunexpectedly met. _

 

CHAPTER XV.
THE DEATH-SHOTS.

SETTING Sun's rifle was dashed from his grasp
and the chief 'sprung back with a tigerish cry of
rage. In his red right hand he held a knife
Whose long blade glittered in the light of the

moon.
‘ Gopher Gid, unhurt, stood bewildered in his

tracks; but he did not see the Sioux chief alone.
From a clump of tall bushes, not far from the

i V l 8 ring, a human figure had bounded like a pan-

t er. This individual was now approaching the

.v Indian at a rapid gait, and the hand which he

stretched out held a formidable “ navy.”

“Stand!” a stern voice said to Setting Sun,
who, hardly recovered from his consternation,
was waiting for the attack, knife in hand.
“Another step, and by the gold of Ophirl the
Sioux ’11 have to elect another chief l”

The savage obeyed the summons. Won-
dertnent beamed in his eyes, but he did not

move.
A joyful cry burst from the little trapper’s
throat.
He now knew the man whose bullet had dash-

ed his would-be executioner’s rifle to the round.
The voice—the well-known ex ression, ‘ By the

7 1 gold of Ophirl" had fixed his i entity.

Setting Sun braced himself more firmly as
that deadly pistol came nearer. He, too, knew
the man who held it; the paint could conceal
the road-a ent no longer; the flash of the Sioux’s
e es told t at Runnin Water was not a Tetan
$51, but Midnight ack of the Deadwood

Instinctiver the glistening knife crept men-

' aclngly back; but the road-agent’s eyes caught

the motion.

“ None of that l” he said. “If you don’t want
the moonbeam fairies to get into your head,
chief, you’ll keep that knife still. I‘ve ot you.
and this is the pistol that has never missed its
twist.”

T e, chief glanced at, Gopher Gid, who was
pectator on the spot

Midnight Jack and made a singular motion with

' his left hand, which caused a halt.

..

 

“By the gold of Ophir!” was the response.
“ You don’t mean it, chief l”

The sign was repeated.

It lowered the revolver, and the boy was sur—
prised to see the two men shaking hands on the
s 0t where he had expected—oven hoped—to see
betting Sun fall in the agonies of death.

“ Come here, Go )her." ,

At these words t e boy-trapper bounded for.
Ward and halted before the pair.

“ The dogs didn’t devour you!” exclaimed Mid-
night Jack; “ but their teeth have rent your
clothes. The Indian boys lied.”

“ I’lied?” repeated the youth. “ What did they
say?

“ They said that the dogs had torn you T iece~
meal in the woods. I believed them; we all did.
But you are alive—worth all the dead men in
the ground. By the riches of Ophir! I’m glad
to see you here, chief.”

Setting Sun fixed his eyes upon the disguised
road-agent.

“ Say on, brother.”

“Not just here!" was the response.
still, boy.”

]The red twain drew aside, and left the youth
a one.

He did not hear what passed between them;
he only knew that they, so lately enemies, were
talking like friends; and just before they part-
ed, he saw the chief’s hand point to the south-
east, and heard him sady:

“ She will be foun there; that road is the
broadest to her. My white brethren shall trail
alone." ' -

Then their hands met again, and Midnight
Jack approached the boy. The Indian looked
on,with arms quietly folded upon his ample chest.

“Come boy!” he said, “ we have found a
friend. e will keep the promises he has just
made me. I know the trail that will lead to my
sister; we will strike it at daybreak. The
horses are not far off if Rube has succeeded.
By the gold of Ophirl I nearly shot a—”

He paused ‘abruptly and glanced from the
wondering eye of the boy to the bronze statue
planted firmly in the moonlight.

Then he waved his hand at the Sioux chieftain
and grasping Gopher’s wrist, hurried him toward
ghelforest where he had narrowly escaped with

is ifé. '

“I’m known to one-half of the tribe by this
time,” fell from his lips as they hastened over
the ground. “Zounds, boy! this has been the
tightest rub of Midnight J ack’s life. Everything

‘ ‘ Stand

depends on Rube and the red-skin back yonder '

—thp red-skin especially. Hold on! where are
we?’

The road-agent stopped and looked about like
a man losing his bearings. He still held the ht-
tle trapper by his hand.

“May I ask one question?” asked the boy,

looking up into Lightway’s face.
“ Well 4' ’

“ What if Tanglefoot had unmasked you at
the sun—dance?”

“ Death!” was the reply. “ Nothing on earth
could have saved us. The best shooting in
America would have amounted to nothing, Go-
pher, absolutely nothing. But,” with a flashing
of the dark eyes, “ he didn’t quite tell on us, eh?”

. .

.._.....'-.._ “firm... . . .

.r. _ M, . 

_. »_.___..._~.._n_.._’;._ ,.

... .,._   .

«4.5.: 3‘.

Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper. 2"

 

“ No! and thank fortune that he did not.”

The journey was now resumcd and the twain
plunged into the woods. They crossed the belt
at its narrowest part, and came out upon a rocky
country through which a well-tu—do stream was
rushing with sullen plunge and roar.

“ If Rube and the Indian boy have succeeded
with the horses.” whispered Jack. “Over there
is the spot. Let me go ahead.”

For the first time since leaving-the spring Mid-
night Jack relinquished the young trap .er’s
hand, and armed with his favorite rcvo vers
which ingenuity had lately returned to him 'in
the Sioux cam ) he glided toward a rocky hill,
and soon passe beyond Gopher Gid’s Vision.

“ There goes a brave man!” muttered the boy.
“ I wonder what ties link him to Setting Sun, the

. Sioux?”

Gopher Gid’s further meditations were cut
short by the sudden cracking of fire-arms.

Bang! bang! hang!

The startling reports came from beyond the
hill of rocks, and, snatching from his belt old
Tan lefoot’s pistol which the road-agent had
fllle with loaded cartridges, our young white
brave bounded forward to the assistance of his
friend.

But Midnight Jack did not need help.

A pistol flash greeted Gid’s sight as he reached
the rocks a loud re ort filled his ears, and he
saw a darh figure fa] back among some bushes.

The road-agent stood erect upon a bowlder.
with pistoled hands outstretched and fire in his
eyes. Below him lay the bodies of three Indians,
8. bullet-hole in the head of each, and a pair of
inoccasined feet protruding from the clnm of
bushes just mentioned told the story of the st

shot.

“When will the red devils learn that Mid-
night Jack never misses?” he cried, seeing the
bon at his feet, and then he quickly continued:
“ more than half-suspected this. They over-
heard us in the camp; they were lying here to
meet Rube with the horses. You say you saw
ilgin'es in the woods? These are the fellows.
But they’ll never form another ambush.”

“ Never!" echoed Grid. “ But are they all
here?”

“All?”said Midnight, as if insulted. “Did
any escape who filled the wagon down on the
Deadwood trail? With these destroyers none
ever at away,” and the now smiling Sioux-
killer eld the! beautiful pistols admiringly be-
fore Gid’s eyes. _

“ VVe’ll wait a while for Rube,” he continued.
“My shots will bring him up, he says; he knows
the gpice of my Indian-Slayers. 3 Hark! horses
now.

The unmistakable sounds of a horse’s ap-
proach. Midnight Jack sprung from the rock,
and crouching on its shady side looked into the
moonlit spot where the bodies of his red victims
la

y.

Presently a shadow fell across the trunk of
a young tree, and crept toward the stricken
Sioux. _

“Another Indian 1” said Grid. .

“That shadow-caster an Indian?” ejaculated
the road-agent. “ Why, you’re insulting the
whole Sioux tribe, boy! Now. watch". _

'Then a low cry fell from Midnight Jack’s lips;

 

the shadow straightened up and its maker came
into View.

“By the jumpin’ jingo! who did this?” cried
a rough voice, and the speaker‘s lon arm was
pointing at the red-skins. “ We fiieard yer
shots an’ hurried up. Yonder ar’ the bosses‘
but we bed a time. Thar war wolves around
the corral, an’ Injuns. too. We fought ’em
both an’ the three what felt the claws ov
the reamin’ Eagle, got pitched among the
bosses.”

The road-agent and the little trapper stood
before the speaker, still arrayed in is Indian
dis uise, which was sadly dilapidated.

ube was surprised to see Go her Gid; but
led the couple to three strong-imbed horses
whose rope halter-strings were held by a young
Indian.

“The boy ar’ uneasy!” whispered Rube at
Midnight’s car. “He said awhile back that he
heard his horn blow, an’ he’d wade through
blood an’ fight sin an’ death single-handed jest
to clutch that bugle erg‘in.”

The quartette were not long in mounting.
Gopher Gid was seated behind Mouseskin, the
In ian boy, who for fear of being denounced as ,
the slayer of Feel-the—Sky had united his form
tunes with those of our friends, and was lea .
the Indian village—never to return? We sha

see.

When all was ready the party Set out, skirted
the bank of the rapid river for awhile, and then ‘
left it to pursue its course alone.

All at once a strange sound fell upon the ears

of all.

“The horn!” exclaimed Rube. “Look at
the In iunl he’s got the ildgets. There it goes
erg'in!” ,.

“Yrs! yes! Custer’s bugle. My sister is

there:” cried Midni ht Jack.
'But the old bor erer did not seem to hear

1111.

“Quick!” his rough voice cried, and his hand '
shot across the ma -agent’s face in a futile _et-e
fort to seize the bridle of Mouscskin’s horse,

“Look! the red imp is goin’to run 01!. He’s ’ ‘

mad! crazyl bewitchedl Catch ’im, Mid—tharl
he’s gone!” '
The Screamin’ Eagle had spoken truly, for the
{gang Sioux with one sweep of his right arm
flung Gopher Gid to the ground, and was.
dashin away in the direction from which the
bugle~b ast had proceeded. '
Instantly the road-agent’s pistol lea‘ from '

his belt, and a ball went whizzing after be young: ' i V ‘

Sioux who seemed to have been rendered insane
by the sound of his lost trumpet. ‘ '

“Fetch the boy!” cried Midnight Jack, and
the next instant his horse with a snort and‘a
mad plunge, darted after the mad youn Sioux. ..
thThe roadI-‘agent leaned fgdrtv‘vaard as it He 

us urge is steedto gr 1‘ Teeth 6
the bridle in his left hand, and a his rightdde
hung a, revolver. .

Fire flashed in his eyes. _

Woe to Mouseskin if he distanced the western ‘
knight of the road and oflered injury to the fair ‘-
heing who he’ believed had blown the piercing 
blast. ' ‘

0n. on through moonshine and shadow went
the two Indian steeds. ' ’ _ '

 

 

 

 
 

   

Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper.

 

  

CHAPTER XVI.

A THRILLING MEETING.

RUDE, RATTLEB leaned forward and jerked
the little tra per from the ground to a position
u behind him before he could recover from his
; K bewilderment.

7 Then he gave his steed.- the word, and away he
went, carrying his double burden with apparent
ease and willingness.

;  “ Don’t bother me with questions, boy,” said

-‘ the 01d borderman. “ I want to come up with

i that Injun im —I 'est want to plant the

, bunched claws o the creamin’ Eagle over his
eyes. He’ll think I am a reg-liar sky-scraper 1”

With astonishing fidelity Rube kept in the
wake of Midnight. who had disappeared, for all

,at once. the twain saw a horseman leisurely

awaitin them. ' They knew him at once, in the

C beautifu moonlight, and when they came up
they saw that the road-agent was biting his lips

. , in evident bad humor.

:f I" ‘ . The cause was plain. Mouseskin had eluded

' him, and Midnight Jack declared that the

 sounds of the hunted hoofs. had ceased as sud-

" 1  , [genillyas they had started from the place of am-

 . ; us .

' - ' “We can do nothing till morning. We will
rest here. Dora, my sister, cannot be far oflf.
Maybe'we will hear the bugle again before dawn.
Let no one sleep.”

The two guided their animals to a shady spot,
and prepared to wait for the dawuing of another

. day. The ears of each were eager to hear the
blast of the famous trumpet again; but hour
after hour passed away and the silence remained
unbroken.

Dayli ht came; the long arrows of light pene-

‘ ’ tratedt at narter of Sioux-land, and at last

’ the beams o the rising sun came to fu ther
: beautify the scene.

“ ,“ Not followed etl" was the ejaculation that

. fell from the res -agent’s lips, as he turnel his

eyes toward the Indian village which all had

_. lately left. “ Settingr Sun will keep his prom-

‘ ,' ise:be said that we should not be followed. If

I had” known day before yesterday that he

"was——

I “Go on Midnight. .I understand you,” in-

‘ » terrupted Rube, catching the. speaker’s eye.

“If I had known that, there might be life in
Timon Moss to—day—”

, “ I’m right down glad that ye didn’t know it!”

said Rube. “ I‘ll hev no opposition now.”

;  The road-agent gave the gaunt speaker a queer

.“ ,i ‘ glance; the boy also darted a questioning look

" 1 into his good-humored countenance.

“ No opposition?” echoed Midnight. “Are

 . der?”
I ' ' “Yes, when they run a telegraph line to the
', ,moonl” was the answer. “Not that, Midnight.
~ ' 1 . My temperance principles is to bu’st the kegs—
: \ like Gopher an’ me did fur Tanglefoot. I never
a» V liked the'old fellar, anyhow. Thar’s a widder
‘ on Washoe street, in Deadwood—Mrs. McGee,
six children an’ a boardinY-house;—them’s her
' dowTry. Tanglefoot was the opposition party
i in the matter. Can’t ye see?” >
*1 ', Though his thoughts at that moment were far
away, and with one for Whom he would have

u

o—

 I . you going to follow his calling—you a gin-tra:

given his life, Midnight Jack could not repress a.
sml e.

The boy laughed merrily until alook from the
old borderer severely rebuked his levity.

“ It’s a fact!” blurted Rube. " The dow’r
would check some fellars, fur any home with
six children is a boardin’-house, but I’ve gone
too fur to recede."

“ Go her and. I will congratulate you!” said
Midnig t, with all the gravity he could at that
moment assume. “ But this is hardly the place
to discuss love aflfairs. We have a work to per-
form. ‘ Let us find the trail.”

“ I’m with ye, tharl” responded Rube. “ 'Ar-
ter ’while we’ll talk about the widder.”

The hunters now began to seek for that trail
which each was eager to strike, and high noon
found them pushing in a southeasterly direc-
tion with an alacrity which seemed to insure
success.

 

It was near the close of the day that followed
the startling blast from Custer’s bugle, when a
handsome white man emerged from a cave in
one of the deep canyons of Sioux land, and look-
ed up at the dark cliffs that seemed to touch the
lofty sky. '

The stillness that enwraps those canyons for
Weeks and months at times, la about the soli-
tary man; he saw no living objects. The gray
walls were dead in color; the stones around
him had been washed by some swift river of the
long ago; the sun had never bleached them, for
its rays never reached the bottom of that great
ravme.

The solitary observer of this solitude looked
little like a hunted individual. His face was
fair, well-shaped and almost feminine in ex—
pression. A mass of raven hair long and in-
clined to curl, had been brushed back from his
temples. His garments were not of the best,
but the cavalry jacket which he had lately worn
into Red Cloud’s camp had disappeared, and he
was clad in habiliments seen oftener at the
United States forts and in the frontier towns
than among the canyons of the upper Missouri
country;

He cast a quick look behind: at the mouth of
the little natural cavern which he had just left,
and then moved down the old river-bed.

“Don’t I know every foot of this old place?”
he murmured. “ I’ve been here before. There
he precious few places in this country I am not
familiar with. The girl’s in the best quarters.
She’s a veritable tigress; but I’ll make a lamb
out of her before I make her Mrs. Golden George.
And any one with half an eye could see that they
are brother and sister. I said so—to myself—
when I flrstsaw her at Sully, and when the
major told me that she was hunting for a lost
brother, I knew I could find him within twenty-
four hours. But I didn’t—no, I didn‘t. What
am I hiding here for, anyhow? Tanglefoot has
sold them out. Midnight will never settle ac-
counts with Golden George; but I wish he knew
before he passed in his checks that I am going to
keep the threat I made long ago. I thought I’d
have to go East and court the girl there; but

' fortune brought her out here and put her right

into my hands. What am I here for? Ah. yes!

 

‘ the Agency. It is near at band, and I want to
.

 

     
  
  
    
  
  
   
    
  
 
 
   
  
   
   
   
   
  
    
   
   
  
 
 
 
  
  
 
   
   
    
   
  
   
  
  
  
   
   
 

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Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper. . 89

 

see who are there before I take Dora down to
rest for a few days.”

Golden George was a goodly distance from

ate had thrown Dora Lightway
into is hands. He was conducting her south—
to the dilapidated “Indian Agency,” so called,
but not now occupied by the Government. But
there were white faces there—a rough lot of fol—
lows, and not a few villainous half-breeds, who
always welcomed the Sport to their midst.
The ambler’s last visit to the Agcnc had not
ende in a tranquil manner. He had een com-
pelled, in self-defense, to shoot a desperate char—
acter, and then fly for his life. Since thcn ru—
mor had told him that Nugget Noll had recover-
ed. If he was now at the “Agenc ,” George
would avoid the spot; if not he coult take Dora
there, and keep her until he wished to re on and
introduce his new sweetheart to Dean wood so-
ciety.

On both sides of this canyon were great fls-
sures that led to the land above. Some were
dark, and half-filled with a species of brushwood
that seemed to have taken root in the very'rocks
themselves, while a streak of moonlight half
revealed others, and made them less forbidding
as assageways up or down.

11 the dense little wood above, whose recesses
were impenetrable even at noonday, the Sport
had concealed his horse. To mount the animal
and gallop to within a mile of the “ Agency,”
dismount and reconnoiter afoot, was Golden
George’s intention.

“ I’ll go up the light one,” he said, as he halted
at the foot of one of the fissures, and saw the
stony footpath clear to the top. “I met a
mountain-cat in a dark one once, and 1’ve got
careful since.” .

With his mind on the pretty girl—his last
sweetheart—Golden George began to climb the

. narrow stairway. He held a revolver cocked

in his right hand; but made no secret of his
ascent.

Why should he?

“ Just let me find Nugget Noll dead!” he said,
expressing his thoughts aloud. “I had the

dead-dro on him that time. Black Hill said
he saw im last summer at Standin Rock
Agency; but Bill is a chronic liar. (lead-

drojp never failed me yet. I’d have got it on
M1 night in the Indian town, if he hadn’t got it
on me. But it’s all right now! all right, Dora,
my Houri!”

t Golden George was elated with his good for-
une.

As he went up, he passed dark holes in the
sides of the walls. ‘

“ Strange coufitry. this. These holes look
like devils’ dens. The Indians say that the
lead down to the bottom of the canyon, and if
I was of an exploring turn of mind, I’d see
about some of them. This canyon is full of
them. Good places for a fellow like Nugget
Noll'to wait for the man he hates.” '

Golden George thought alone of hlS antagonist
of bygone days and not of the man who, lying
on the ground a ve, was waiting calmly for his
coming.

The dark eyes that looked through a clump of

‘ bushes at the top of the fissure flashed with tri-

umph. They knew the man who was slowly

 

ascending. If Golden George had climbed any
other path on that side of the chasm, the tiger
would have received him; if he had scaled one
on the other side, a bullet would have brought'
him down.

At last the hand of the Sport reached the
bushes, then his head rose above the level, and-

A low cry of vengeance and a hand at his
throat. .

The Sport saw his enemy, and started back.

His revolver fell from his grasp, and went roll- "
There was another at . . ’

ing down the stony way.
his head—behind it burned the devilish eye of.
Midnight Jack!

Golden George (lid not try to articulate. He

saw that the road—agent was leaning over the "

chasm, and quick as a flash, he flung his arms
up, knocked the revolveraside, and threw his.
body back.

A wild oath fell from Midni ht Jack's li ;
but though his body was dragg over the 6 go
of the rock he did not loosen his grip. .

The two men began to roll down the ravine
to the amazement of a brace of persons who h
suddenly appeared above.

But they soon disappeared for the Sport’s
foot caught on a. rock and chat,
tum; not only this, but it jerked the deadly foe
to one side, and they shot into one of the cav-

ernous openings as if shot there by some giant '

power !

downward, still clutching each other, at when

they struck their gripes loosened and they rolled ‘

apart.

halt.
Then the voice of Midnight J aok was heard?
“ We’ve met again, Golden! Both of us shall

never leave this pit of darkness alive one of us V_

may. We were certain to fight a. no! to the.
death some day. It was but a question of time; ;
You have lost your revolvers; so have I. . Have
you got a knife?”
“ Yes!” came a voice from the gloom.
“ Are you ready, Golden?” ”
“ Ready, Midnight.”
“ So am I.”

Unseen by each other, the two foes dropped to ‘
the stone floor of the cave, and drew their "

knives. r

The darkness was so intense that neither could I ‘-

see his hand when placed within an inch of his

face. .
It was an awful moment. , p .
The rivals of the West—the road-agent and .

the Sport-*the beau of the city and the ,A o

of the road—had met to fight to the dos far 
from the Scene of their conquest—met for the *

last time.

 

CHAPTER XVII.
A DUEL TO THE DEATH. l
“ COME, boy. we’ll go down an’ look for ’em.
They’ve grappled like b’ars an" hev rolled cl’ar
to the bottom 1”

Rube Rattler and Gopher Gid, somewhatsur“ ' ‘

prised at the sudden disa pearance of the two ~

foes, began to go down he fissures. The A, V

lieved that the antagonists had swept'aro

d a
bend, and kept on to the foot of the clifls. The .-

\

ked the momen- . ‘-

In the gloom they seemed to roll a ggeat way 7 v

For a moment silence succeeded the sudden

 

 

5,7

«

 

 

6

I astonishment distendin

- the

"man sudden]

hunter, an

Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper.

 

shadows lay thick against the sides now, and
thehnntnrs did not see the cavernous openings
as they descended.

They reached the bed of the cavern to find no
signs of the men they sought.

‘QueerI” ejaculated the Screaming Eagle,
throwing a look of blank surprise into the little
tra per’s eyes. “ It beats my time all holler!
Didh’t Midnight catch Golden u thur, an’ did-
n’t he pull ’im over the edge? he airth must
hev swallowed ’em. Jest take notice of \the
 Why, Gopher, we could hear a cricket
wa .

The silence that reigned around them had al-
ready attracted our young hero. He was about
to rgply when the borderer sprung suddenly to

rong wall that rose above them and put his
ear to a little fissure ‘not wider than a finger.

“ Come hyar, Gopher,” he said, in a startling
whisper that instantl brought the lad to his
side. “ This wall is he ler, like a tree. Thar!”

Gopher started from the wall with a look of
his eyes. There were
human voices inside t 6 rock; he had heard
them!

“ Are on ready, Golden?”

.“ Rea y, Midnight.”

“ So am I.”
For a' moment Rube stared at the rock like a
bereft of his senses.

“This is t e devil’s work, Gopher!” he asp-
ed. seizing the little trapper bv the shou der.
“How dld the get in t ar? How? Wh the
rock opened an swallowed ’em. Did on ear,
boy? hey’re goin’ to fight to the deat . Think

'whata fight it will be atween Golden George

and Midm ht. Wouldn’t Xe like to see it, boy?”

Gopher id’s eyes flashe .

“ Yes: but I’d rather find the girl!” he said.

“ I wouldn’t” was the response. “The fight
—the fight! We’ll go up ag’in. Ef the hole that
let ’em in is open, we’ll see suthin’ of that death-
scrimmage."

The boy found himself dragged to the foot of
the stony 'pathway by the excited and eager

the next minute the twain were

amendingi
Meanw ile into the gloom of the cavern into
which fate had Erecipitated them, Midnight
Jack and Golden eorge, face to face. yet un—
seen h each other, were ap reaching that com:
bat w ich could not be avoi d.

They had once been friends; but a wrong per-

 by the Sport had transformed them
n

., ... “M...
' . ’.

‘ /n

to rivals—enemies! And the Snort had vowed

I to wed the sister of Midnight Jack, even if he

were obliged to court her in the luxurious parlor
of that home from which a father’s curse had
driven the only son.

Did the road-agent know that the bitter foe
whom he faced knew where that sister was at

:that mouhelnti No; but he believed that Dora
was not

1‘ away. The mystery of the bugle
had almost ceased to bother him. They had
come across the trail of Red Cloud’s band re-
mng from the Agencies; and he had said to
u : a .
“That blast wa‘s blown by one of those In-
dians. They found the bugle; and Mouseskih‘

'knows this now.”

 

fl Thiswastrue. The blastwhich had startled

the uartette was blown by Indian lungs, and
tho ioux boy was now following the band, hop—
ing to recover hlS trumpet which had been
picked up by one of its number, and now hung
from his girdle. Golden Geor e, in a fit of rage
at his beautiful captive, ha flung the silver
bugle far from the trail which he had made to—
ward the canyon.

But to return to the foes in the rock.

Midnight Jack did not advance; but remained
where he had stopped. He knew the aggressive
nature of the man with whom he was ealin .
Golden George, in such a position as this, won (1
attack.

But nothing indicated his coming. The road-
agent put out his hand and touched a wall.

“ Ha!” he thought, as he hugged it closely.
“He cannot attack from one side at least!” and
he waited on.

By and b a slight sound disturbed the silence.
It sounded ike the fall of a pebble from an in-
si iflcant elevation.

idni ht turned uickly. He knew that
Golden orge had a so found the wall. and
that he was following itr—coming toward him!

No more pebbles fell to indicate the move-
ments of the Sport, but Midnight felt the ap-

roach ef 8. Presence which he could’ not see.

c knew that Golden George was still following
the wall, as surely as if he saw his every motion.

Nearer and nearer came the Sport, stopping
now and then to listen, only to advance again
with a long-bladed Mexican knife in his right
hand. Suddenly and noiselessly the road-agent
stood up: but bent forward with eagerness.

He knew where the Presence was.

All at once the left hand of Midni ht Jack
which rested lightly against the wall a ove his
head darted through the gloom with the swift-
ness of a descending eagle.

A wild oath followed; the Presence seized by
that hand bounded from the stone floor, and a
flash of fire succeeded. It was the meeting of
the blades as the enemies struck simultaneously
at each other’s heart.

Midnight Jack did not relinquish the hold
which he had obtained. Exerting all his
strength he suddenly swung his foe to the left,
and struck again in the gloom. But he miscal-
culated the position of the Apollo’s heart, and
his knife struck the stone wall to snap at the
handle and drop with a ring upon the floor.

A laugh of devilish triumph rung out in the
gloom from Golden George’s lips, and before it
ceased the road-agent turned like a tiger and
fell with his full weight upon him.

No human being could have withstood that
onslaught. The blow that the Sport dealt as he
went backward made a wound from which the
life—blood of his foe spurned like a long pentrup
tide; but it did not reach the heart for which he
had intended it.

The Sport/was thrown from his feet. but he
did not fall; the great strength of his adversary
prevented.

“This is to the death. Golden—remember!”
fell from Midnight Jack’s lips. the first words
uttered in that cavern for many minutes. ‘

“ To the death, of course, Midnight!” was the
rejoinder. “You‘re struck! Your blood spurt-
ed clean into my face.”

e <‘

 

‘\‘ .

Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper. 31

 

“ But it never leaped from my heart.”

“ Oho! well, I’ll tap that fountain!”

“ If you can, Golden."

The last word had scarcely left the road-
agent’s lips when he threw his antagonist half-
way round and his knife-hand struck the stone-
wall heavily.

A cry told him what had befallen George.
His knife, too, was gone!

The foes now grappled. In that Stygian gloom
they went down to rise again, am fight With
the weapons which Nature had given them.
Now against the walls, now in the middle of
the cave, now up, now down, they fought—to
the death!

Once they paused for breath, standing erect
like gladiators, the hand of each at the throat
of the other; then at it again.

But this could not always last.

Midnight suddenly wrenched his foe from
him; he flung him away and fell to the ground
himself. As he did so, something slid from un-
der his feet—Golden’s lost knife! .

With a cry which he could not suppress, Mid-
night seized the weapon and listened. Beyond
a ull thud that had ollowed his last success, he
heard nothing of the S rt.

Many moments, kni e in hand, the road-agent
waited for a renewal of the combat: but it came
not. .At last he called the name of his foe; si-
lence. as before!

“ I’m armed; all the advantage is with me i”
he said to himself. “Golden struck the wall.
Mo be—”

e said no more, but began to circumnavi-
ate the cavern, his hand on the wall to guide
1m.

All at once he stoppedhnd sprung back; his
hand had touched the Sport’s flesh.

“I’m going to pass in Inf checks. Mid-
night,” said a voice in the 00m. “You’ve
got my knife. I know it; ut you needn’t
use it. There’s nothing left of my head;
you threw me plump against the wall. My
last dust is on the table, and death holds all
the trumps. Midnight, I didn‘t get to do it;
no, I cannot keep my word! Your sister is in
the caniyon. Follow the bed westward to the
petrifle trunk of a tree. The cave is there.‘ I
left her safe. I was going to see if Nugget Noll
was at the Agency. Didn’t want to meet him,
you know. Midnight, this tussle has been to the
death. Where are you?”

“Here, Golden,” and the victor crept for-
ward till he bent over his foe—till he clasped the
hand of the dying man. ‘

“ Did you tell Dora that—”

“No, I didn‘t,” was the interruption; “but
she more than half suspects. That girl has
come away out here to make a man of you.
Your father is dying; he wants you back. You
ought to hear her tell how he took back the
curse of- exile; how—” .

“Stop, Golden! let me think a moment. I
311111 gping back. I almost Wish we hadn’t met

US.

 

“ No! that’s not the way to talk. We were
born to fight right here—that’s my doctrine.
You needn’t tell the boys how I died. Let ’em
think that I just disappeared. I’megoing to

uit talking now. Death has clutch Go den
georgc’s last stakes. I—-—tlirow—down the-
cards!" ,

Midnight Jack knew what was coming; he
felt a shiver run through the hand he held. ,‘

The death-gurgle broke the Silence of the
scene, and the fingers of Golden George, the
Sport, fell from the road-agent’s hand.

All was over! . I _

“ A man of his word!” said Midnight, US$25.
” He found his own tomb, and died in It. G
by, Golden! I believe your doctrine, too. We
were bound to fight to the death !”

The road—agent now turned his attention to
escape from the cavern; and all at once he heard
a human voice.

“This must be the place! Stay behind! I’ll
drop into the hole, fur the Screamin’ Ea 1e of
the Smok Roost has been in dark holes oral”

Midnig is Jack uttered a cry of dehght, and
the next instant the friends met.

 

“Look to the north, Dora. Up yonder is
Sioux—land. Would you go back there?"

“ Yes. to find the brother I have sought. Jack,
if they had killed me—"

“I would not be here within sight of Fort
Sully. What did I write on the wagon which I
loaded with dead Indiansi—that I would exter-
minate the Sioux nation! But you live, Dora.
I thank heaven I had not your death to avenge!” '

“It is good-by to the road now!”

“ No! it is farewell forever I” ‘

When Midnight Jack rode boldly into Fort
Sully, he was at once put under arrest by the
commandant. But a sweet face and a sweeter
voice leaded for his release, and Midnight dared
the co one] to point to one loyal citizen whom
he had plundered. Then came the story of the
father’s cursohthe exilcb—the stirring scenes
which we have witnessed in the course of this '
narrative, and—the release. \

The shout was now. “ Eastward ho!”

Gopher Gid—or Gideon Weston, a the boy’s
true name was—looked into the hill home again
and bade it farewell. '

A pair of eyes had more fascination forhim  '

than that little hermitage, and he made one of
the East—bound party. I
Time has rolled on. The soldier father is.
dead; the exile is a prosperous man far from the: ‘
golden coast; and the little trap
glustdbeen rewarded by the bestow of awoman’s
an . .,
Rube Rattler—he is back on the frontier where «
he tells with gusto how he hung for six hours in
the sun-dance, bly frag-seizingl thg  cords to
stra beneath t e o cav ry ac e ‘.
HES took the widow McGee, “.dow’ry" and
all. . ~,

THE END.

1
.‘ \

 

’3 love has. .

 

 

 

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Rom-h”: RulPh Roekwuod’ the Reckless Rum-{EL 81 Jared!” “$23..an fly in th \ or!“ By Bruce
Bv Hurry M. (marge. ' _ Q Fl 87 The "llfll‘fll‘ Chptnln. By Col. Prenlial lnzrnlmm.

T‘he lioy Clow’l- “3 MM“ ' : ""1 L w] 1 £8 llemlwood Dick In Lend ville. By E. L.V\'lweh-r.

’lhe I hnntom Mln‘um 'lhzl'nlwim . _ we or. 89 BI" “mam” Trap er. “y Edwmd 5. Elm.

xhe SeuJJut. By (Alpllllll l‘redenuk Whittnker. 90 Thu,“ “u, jcxnn. y Gnome kaum

lhe Ilnmh fl y. By 0” Conmcs‘. 1 Mndinng Sum, the King of the Pluinl. By Jon. E.

ltnnlln - Ru e. Bvam‘I’y Sigfworfie- J:m1g.-r..1r.

oyld‘A‘thllmwhc’ “‘9 9M“ Ann‘l‘umwf By Edward 92 The 0091an Bloodhound. By Samuel W. [‘urce.
,. )e‘e or. . 98 l’lrll llnrtlv ihu Hung Buy. By Charles Morris.

GI!“PS.EIXF’. the GM“ Shut or “w “ "a" By cup“ J‘ 94 Dcndwnod filo]: us Detective. 1;}! E. L.VVlIeelar.
. I. . r u . . 95 Buck lhu-krnm. By (maniu J. C. Adams.

The Bo Captain. lh Roger Stnrbuck. . _ 5 r , , s . . - L

i'])|(.k "flinging; lire Pony Express Rider. lly Cnpt. 96 "agilifflhed Ind" the rm" Dtlemve' By I- I“

|-rederlc lit (1 er. ‘ _ . I _ ,

0 Bob woollfi ill-Va Bord}? Tag“?! 11;. E‘th wmehm 97 '1 hthlf‘l‘r‘nk Stud of the l rulrleu. By Jnmea
lehfllllfl B at- y I" ' "r "‘“u " 98 The Son .Fornont. By Junn Lewis.
g[Defianfinvug‘ima‘ldéfi:g;z'r “1'1":  99 Bonanza “III, (In- Mnn 'l‘rm-her. By E. L. Vl'healer.

m” .. . _ .. . . . . . , . - . -
Burt Bnnléer, the Trupner. By Guurgu E. Lianne. loo lgjfiuh'g‘hifu'fil’ The FM“ or the SW“ ('“Puve‘ “y

JFK: affitgllgefiuifiy Afifhmfil  Lnahlle. 101 1:913” Davy, “‘0 Young Bear Klller- By Harry
' " . .x. 'anr’e.
'"m Bhld’mc "r' 8" Edward L‘ W heal“ 102 '1‘] -Y -]lmv Chlcf or The llulf—bluodIVen canoe.
Ni? llnzel, ’thu Boy Trapper. By Capt. J. F. C. 108 gifnw: Mfl".,ll,§ke‘€_; B' i I d L “ h l g
"mua' . - ‘ t Ia Gir . pnr . y :1 war . ' ue er.
‘fiEfe‘ ‘1” {Prov}; %"';t' 131'} g‘fixmg‘n‘ 104 Thg’llluek Schooner. By RngerSn-rhuck.
0 gégfiwogdmfirci}! (fi'fi‘dcy' "1&2";  wheéle: 105 llliirrldmune llnrry, tlm Boolbhxck‘DeLecnve. By
' u ' " ' ' ‘mr a . urril.
e The Biol-id" K133i“? 2:1 53331?" 106 Maui-11mm mt. By JIM. p. Budgpr, J3.
Ollldemfiflgzyfildli‘ln llv‘C‘nI?! JLll‘ C Adums  *llgu’lli llfi'le’fll lieudkllt‘y Pfil‘xp'g Lfi“:::gflr'
'. ‘ ," " '1 no'y onnan . ‘y .. |\r ,
¥flg|§l§$glognblmnm  14;."mi'5‘allfigmmmh 109 'llhe ‘llrnmloul llundk 'lzyl‘rnnavnifinnm.
The Red "'°'h°""°:“‘~ .w w- 5- Hl-mnwn- ‘i’ .125.mtmm“mm? ..,:E.'.3.'(3;-....,_
mud “elixir” .Irak-(f‘.1.[f‘.'i?'i.~""i§.'..l er .1, 2 'nm Helpless "and, By Cum. Mnyne REM.
“n” “fine I  w 'J [I‘mm‘fiun K ’ ' B Muir-Fume Mull, uer! zlluntvr.’hy‘OllCuonm.
IS’LfiEt-l “mh'or voo' lly Philip  Wnrne. fi » l'lm-y Paul. um 1mm Ilhly- 2y I; I flab-“1w!-
The Border Robin hood. lly Hull'nln mu. ‘2 I'lvildwgm‘lflI“N :30! Ram th-x VAR-1m“?! er.
Gold Rlflc the Sllflrlllllo‘illvr. B lid. |.. “'becler. '   gfldnllzmd‘; By hu-mlln Bi“. -
4 01“ z‘p’“ (’fll'lfl' '14“. {ml ' ‘Vlll “'Ildll re, the Thoroughbred. lly1'hnn.l\lurri|.
6 fifls‘r‘fl‘fi: wgnter") '1”. Blolnlllc dIIIIll‘ 1or.l Daudwoud Dick’s Home Hume.
' ' . . , ll" ‘1« WM 1. ' use, er.
Redfogdlmrrpn .{’.‘?{1‘f'cn3:¥,£' I" WI'WIU' 0 thher Ghl, tho Roy'l‘rnmm.  T. C. Hm-hnuzh.
vfiwney I) ",3" “’43,” “Mun-s Inzmhmn' 1 Harry Annuitrqmg. the (‘n imn of the Cluh. Ry
'5 C" t ,flfc",;_x, I“, '8‘. mm W MM urn-.imgaH.-u.w¢,r.xmk Hurmymy.) Reiulvlfilny 5.
6.3%“:0; Chnflm By 'pduinm L;w|,,,:.le,_ ' 122 'ghol “amtfid Hunter. 13y hdwurd S. hlhl.
' ‘ . , " - muv ny . ‘
" fil‘hfifil‘i-‘I'hihé3312:3533“'nf‘l.c\l¢§‘fl2§1“‘ 128 sRau‘d gnu-mu noynomx-Auem. BYE-L-“hw'ar,
. 3 El 1L. Wheeler. umy y . .. ‘ I
film“ “3,30, chi T1233?“ m.- mm... ny Cnpl. 124 ~11{-;;|lfie“l:‘.'nch, J r. ny 1‘. 0- Hulmutzh-
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' ' ’ - . . . ll - B ~udle‘n.‘ I’iwket l Ibrnry In for Inh- by nll Newl-
' l‘hefilflyll-“re‘out, “In wand H‘mk By T C M dvnltrs, fivn rum: put cup}, or mull. lry "mu m! remipt at I '
l the Biy Run er. By 0“ Gnomes. cents cut-h. ‘
:7 {Eloyllfzhe (llr‘l Mine: By Edward L. Wheelar. BEADLl‘.'-(' ADAMS, Pllhllnheyn,
6 Detective lllck. By Clmrlal Morris. 98 “r lllhnn btreet, hcw \ork.
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