Copyrighted. 1887, by BIADLI AND ADAus. Entered at me Pas: Oflice at New York. N. Y" as Second Clan Mail Miner. July Tl. 188'].

 

. Published Weekl I) Be (116 and Adams ’
VOL XVI n$%§flt. No_ 98 WILEIAMyST" :EW YORK. ’ FlvlePIIfeel’lm. N0. 

 

 

 

 

 

“:00 am: NAT smmczn, OF KANSAS." sun msoN BILL, mummy." “1 ma, cum; runway,
PARD, AND I DELIGETS TEE GRIP YER FIST. /

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

/

.2 Biso'n Bill, the Overland Prince.

 

Bumlo Bill as Overland Stage-Driver.

Bison Bill,

run 0mg» PRINCE.

BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM,
AUTHOR or “THE SEA DEVIL," “DICK DEAD-

 

 

nvn," “ THE nor DUELIST," “ LITTLE
GRIT," “ GOLD PLUME,” ETC., m0.
CHAPTER I.

MET BY CHANCE.

A WILD scene amid the mountains of the Gold
State, and the landscape unbroken by a, single
habitation.

An eagle soaring high in the heavens, a. squir-
rel bounding from limb to limb of a nut tree,
and a bird trilling forth notes of beauty, were
the-only objects visible to the eye, in this far-
awa land of California, whose rich earth was
yiel 11 up its yellow treasures to the hardy
and in ustrious miners, who had given up home
and comforts to dig a. fortune with pick and
shovel.

Suddenly another object caught the eye, com-
ing out'of the thicket on the mountain-side, and
moving downward toward the valley.

i A close look and it was seen to be the form of

‘ '8. man, with pick and shovel on one shoulder and
rifle on the other and a face bronzed by expos-

-.,ure‘undvfurrowe by hardship.

» . ,Dressed in the top-boots, dark pants and blue

-w’oolen shirt of a. miner, his rough garb did not

 

‘3: 1 ,hide'tho nobility of face, and the intellectnnland

brilliant eyes, that had evidently in the past
., gained upon far different scenes from that which
' they then beheld. '

' 1 ith a swift, firm trend he came down the
r- mountain, following an almost unbroken path,
‘ and then, as his eyes fell upon the sunset litmu—

 Stiles over the hill-tops, he paused, dropped his
* , shovel and pick, and leaning upon hi»: rifle,

gazed upon the grand scene spread out before his

Vision.

, " Absorbed in the loveliness of nature, tinted
’ with the sunset glory, he failed to observe
thatthe form had suddenly emerged from the
shadows of the trees that bordered the stream
running through the valley, and was advancing

 toward hirn.

It was also the form of a man, carrying; the
tools of a miner, a rifle, and a. large bundle
swun to his pack.

‘ Wi apparently tired step he ascended the
hill, and had approached wit in fifteen paces of
- v the other before he saw him.

' Instantly he dropped his tools, threw forward
his rifle, and said quickly: ..

“ Well sir, are you friend or foe?" ‘

The failing of the tools had aroused the other
from his sunset reverie, and he had quickly
gasped his rifle for use; but perceiving that
. eotber hsd“the drop on him,” he gazed at
' 'glsflface and made no sign to raise the weapon

or re.

 Thus the two menstood an instant, and again

. 1 came the question:

p,

 

“ Are you friend‘or foe? Say quick! for these
are dangerous times, partner.”

Then came the answer calm and stem:

“ There was a time, Hugh Arleigh, when you
and I were friends, and then enmity came be—
tween us; but meeting here now in this far—
away land, I say let us bury the hatchet.”

‘1"Burt Bernardi” gasped the other, his face
pa. in . .

“ ' es, I am Burt Bernard, your old-time
boyhood friend and rival: you won the prize
we both strove hard to gain poor Helen Tracey,
and for a while life seemed a happy dream to

you.
. “ But she is dead now, and adversity has fall-
cn upon you and me, Hugh, and We meet hero
in the gold mountains, and as miners.

“ My cabin lies yonder in the valley, and I
say, share it with me and let us be friends, for
the sake of her we both loved so well.”

The bronzed-faced miner stepped forward as
he 3 he and stretched forth his hand, and
Hug Arleizh sprung to meet him eagerly, and
said, earnestly:

“Indeed will I, Burt, bury the past in the
grave of forgetfulness and be your friend.

“I knew that financial troubles had fallen'
upon you, and they said you had disappeared,
none knew where.

“Shortly after, I failed, and the gold-fields
lured me hither to search for gold, to once
more give me wealth and position, and I have
been here buth few weeks, searching the moun-
tains for a claim.”

“And I have been here two years, and ill—
luck has dogged my steps, for little have I
made.

“ But come, yonder cabin, you can just see it
in the valley, is my home, and I am alone, but
I have plenty to eat and to drink for an old
friend, and we will toil 'on with renewed hope of
success. Come,”

Shouldering their tools and rifles, the two
men, so strangely met after years of separation,
Who had been rivals in school, in boyhood
games and in love as they grew to manhood,
walke: briskly down the mountain-side, to the
cabin in the shadow of the valley.

But, better for them had they never again met
on earth.

CHAPTER II.
TEMPTED.

A SHRIEK went up, loud, ringing, piercing,
from a canyon in the mountains and sent forth
many an echo from the surrounding rocks.

A wild shriek it was, and in a man’s voice.

And what could have wrung from a brave,
strong man a cry that a lost spirit might utter '
on the very verge of perditioni ,

A woman, from terror, in anguish, 'might
give vent to such a cry, but why a man?

One glance into the canyon, down into the
depths of which the sunlight penetrated spar-
ingly through the dense foliage, and a. man was
visible in prostrate attitude. ’

He was a man of majestic presence, in spite of
his rude miner’s clothing, and he was bending:
over a hole in the side of the hill, from which
his pick had just dragged forth a mass of shin-
ing ore. ~ * '

 

 

 

 

 

s,

31.0.. mil,- the Overland Prince. ‘ ' s .

 

For long days he had toiled and toiled, only
occasionally turning ug a little of the recious
dust, and then, to su denly with one low to
reveal a fortune to his astonished, glaring,
greedy eyes, it was more than his strong human
nature could stand, and he broke forth with the
wild shriek that went echoing through canyon
and forest.

Like one demented he groveled in the dust
that held the recious ore, laughing, talking,
praying, and WllCl with delight, for back before
his vision swe t a future of luxury, even greater
than what be ad known in the past, ere his ex~
travagant speculations had dragged him down
to poverty, and sent him away to the mountain
fastuesses to dig for gold, ay to work for a sub-
sistence.

Every now and then he would Spring to his
feet and seizing his pick strike it deep into the
earth to again turn up the yellow metal, and
again go mad with the gold fever that seized
upon his delighted senses.

At last, realizing that night was coming on
he gathered the dust together, filling his hat and
large silk handkerchief, and started for his
cabin.

Into a safe place be safely deposited the metal
and then began to repare his lonely supper,
for his companion, urt Bernard, with whom
he had shared the cabin since their strange
meeting a month before had gone to the nearest
minin —camp for supplies and would not re—
turn or several days, as it was a long trip
across the mountains.

All through the night he lived over in dreams
his rich find, and at dawn was up again and
breakfastless went to the lead he had struck.

Through the long day. with sweat on his
brow like oil, he toiled and toiled, and each blow
of the pick but increased his riches, until dark
again hid the yellow metal from view.

Worn out, his excitement died away, and he
went again to his cabin, tossed through the
restless night, and a third day added to his
riches by his tireless, incessant digging.

But at last human nature could stand no
more, and the half-starved body, dragged down
by fatigue and the excitement of his brain,
brought on fever, and, barely able to crawl he
crept to his cabin and sunk down upon his hum-
ble cot, hugging to his heart his yellow gold.

And thus, ragin 'in delirium, Burt Bernard
found him when e came in from his weary
tramp, loaded down with rovisions.

One glance told him 8.], and a bitter curse
broke from his li 3 while he hissed forth:

“Here have toiled for long and weary
months, and I found no rich treasure like this,
while you, Hugh Arleigh, but a few weeks here,
have won a fortune, ay, the fortune of a million—
aire, to judge from the dust you clutch so
greedily to your heart.

“You won from me the woman I so mad]
loved, and now you have the treasure whic
should have been mine-great Godl why shall it
not be mine?”

He turned pallid at the thought that flashed
through his brain, and clasped his forehead in
his han ls.

Thus he stood, his eyes staring, his face white,

and his form trembling.

 

At last he said in a tone almost inarticulate:

“ Oh Godl hOW I am tempted.”

Again the moments passed slowly, and then
he stepped forward and glanced at the fever-
marked man, while he muttered:

“He may die, and then— No, no, no! ‘I
cannot do this crime,” and his better nature
triumphing, he bathed the face of his friend,
gave him a cooling drink, and then sat down to
ponder before the hearth.

With his head buried in his hands be long sat E; l

in deepest meditation, and then sprung to his
feet with a wild cry, shouting:

“ A y, I have been tempted, and I have
fallen.“

Seizing the form of Hugh Arlcigh in his strong.
arms, he bore him to the door and out into the
fearful night, for a. fierce storm was sweeping
down the valley. ‘

Before 111111 the river, ..Wol1en into a foamin
torrent, roared savagely, and to the high ban

overhanging the soothing Waters he staggered  /

with his human load.

No resistance came from the man he intended '
to kill, but instead a wild laughter and incoher- 
out words.

Above his head he swung the form, and down, . * ‘

down into the flood it went, and was borne

away upon the rushing waters, while, with a * ~

cry of terror, as the lightning flashed around

him, Burt Bernard rushed back into his cabin,’__ ‘

and sinking upon his bed, tried to shut out from
his ears the angry roar of the thunder and the ’
blinding glare that seemed to fill the but as with ,
a raging fire. , ' ,

 

CHAPTER III.
L 0 s T A N D W 0 N .
IN one of the

 

and heavily-bearded man, who after glancing,
around the brilliantly-lighted room, moved over, ’

to a taro-table, with the evident intention. or v ' f

pleating. 
e was evidently a man of wealth, refined in ' '
appearance, and elegantly dressed, though them

was a certain nervousness about him that even r

to the casual observer indicated a restless ’ ‘
ture, and one that sought excitement to drive ;_

away moody meditation. _
“ Do Eon play, sir?” asked the dealer, politely, _, <3:
seeing 1;
players glanced at him while one whispered to
a young army officer, wli
ame:

“The bank will lose now, for that is Burt Ber- i . _

nard, the millionaire speculator, and his luck is H
proverbial. ”

The one spoken of overheard the remark, and .
having a. passing acquaintance with the speaker, > ‘
said, pleasantly: r ' "

“ Good-evening, Mr. Dean; it is to  just"
how far my luck will go that I came here tonight
to test it against a fare-bank.” ‘ . >

“It will not desert you. doubtless, as [have “

heard your every investment proves a success,” " '

answered Doan. g
"‘ Yes; but we will see how this one turns‘out. 
Five thousand dollars’ worth of chips, planed; ;.,
dealer.” and all were surprised atthe sum the 1 ‘
millionaire ventured at once.

 

most elegant gambling he'll:  
San Francisco there entered a tall, finely-formed r ‘

 

at he was a stranger, and several of the ,r L

0 was looking on at the I  V

4 ° , Bison Bill, the Overland Prince.

 

,v , But the dealer handed over the “ chips,” took
,7 the money, and Burt Bernard laid the entire
' sum on one card, and—lost!
g , He turned pale, yet kept perfectly calm,
',’ while the rumor going abroad that Burt Ber-
nerd, the millionaire miner, was gambling
heavily and losing, those in difi’erent parts of the
room, crowded over to the fare-table, and be-
came deeply interested s ctators, for with
every turn of the card the link won.
Among those who came up to the table was a
man of striking appearance. for he wore blondo
‘~ side-whiskers and mustache, and his hair,
almost flaxen, fell upon his shoulders, while his
'eyes were as black as night.
Flashily, thou h richly dressed, and wearing
diamonds in pro usien, he had been seen in the
i gambling saloon quite often of late, and some-
“ times he played, yet invariably lost.
' Some said he was a cattle—king, others, that he
-- was a miner, and yet none seemed to know what
1 gives his name, or where his habitation.
-~ Yes, there was one who knew—a dark—faced,
' evll‘eyed Mexican who often was seen with him,
1 . and of whom as little was known as of the
1 ' other. ‘
 i For some moments he stood watching Burt
2;" Bernard lose, and then muttered aloud:
 “ At last his luck has changed; now it is my
a turn.”
, The youngr ofl‘ieer looked up at the speaker,
" for he heard his words; but he had turned sud-
. .denly and was leaving the room, and the next
" A instant passed quickly out of the door.
if Yet, still, though losing heavily, Burt Bor-
l, hard continued to play, until at last he mut-
” tered as if to himself:
" , “ It 110% more I will be unable to meet those
‘ ents to-morrow, and I will be mined, for
0,-a dollar can I get out of my other invest—
ments. ’
>""‘But luck must change; I will try om-n more,
‘ ‘eand make the hot enough to sink or swim.
_,-' ‘.‘ Mr, Dealer, twenty thousand on this card,
'1 Elf, and I will five you my check for it.”
 ‘ r “ Your choc is good, sir—there, you have
,2

   

 

  
   
  
  

 

lost, Mr. Bernard.”

" Burt Bernard stood like one dazed, and each
,; instant his face grew more pallid, and the ex-
  pression on it was pitiful to behold.
:; And it drew pity from one, and that one was
i ' "the young army officer, for he touched Burt
  on the arm, and said in a kindly
, ne:
2.? : "I seldom play, sir; but my luck is wonderv
£111, sopermit me to place your money it you
, _, t more.”
if. Catching at a straw, like a drowning man,
i Burt Bernard said eagerly:
‘  “In investments I am large] interested, sir,
3‘ but‘my money is tied uE, so can only risk a
3.; thousand, which I have ere in my purse; play
.;‘ ,fihatyf’or mo, and play it to win, for the love of

 

’; ‘ whecrowd had seen the whispered conversa—

on,’but knew not what was being said, and

the next moment Burt Bernard and the officer

unproiaached the fare-table together, and the lat—
,.. ' l.

fia ,
V'f Mi: Dealer, Mr. Bernard wishes me to play
him.”

 , f0

    
 
 

 

.,.l ’ \

 

 

“ So the money is put up, sir, it is immaterial
to me,” was the answer, and the oficer threw
five hundred upon a card.

“ You have won, sir,” said the dealer coolly.

“I make it a thousand,” was the equally cool
reply, and again the officer won.

And again a. stake treble the amount was
risked, and luck fell upon the soldier.

With a gripe of iron, so deep was his interest,
Burt Bernard grasped the arm of the winner,
and thus he stood until the officer asked quietly:

“How much did you lose, Mr. Bernard?”

“ One hundred and fifteen thousand dollars."

“ Here is that sum, sir; now let us retire.”

Like one in a dream, Burt Bernard turned
away, grasping the huge roll of bills thrust into
his hand, and the young officer accompanied
him, the eyes of all following them, for where
the one had steadily lost a fortune, the other
had as steadily gained it back for him.

CHAPTER IV.
THE ASSASSIN.

UPON leaving the gambling hell Burt Ber-
nard and his unknown army friend descended
to the street together, when he latter said sud-
denlv:

“ I have left my cloak, sir, so shall return for
it; good—night.”

“ N ot so fast, my young friend, for I am not
going to part thus with one who has saved my
life,” said Burt Bernard warmly.

“Nonsense, Mr. Bernard, I merely saved you
some ready cash, that, had you lost, might have
cramped you a little to-morrow,” lightly replied
the soldier. ,

“ Young man, let me tell you the truth: I
came to San Francisco With a large sum of gold,
dug out of a mine, and I invested it, and all I
went into increased my fortune.

“ Of late I am tied up so by investments that
the loss of this money would have wrecked me,
while with it, I can carr along my risks for a
few weeks and get out a ead.

“ Had I lost it, I would not have had the
courage to go East and face one whom I love
better than life, and I would have this night
ended my days.”

There was no doubting the words of the man,
for his face showed it, and, it was seeing such
wild determination in his face, that had caused
the young ofileer to play for him, well knowing
his invariable good luck, though seldom was it
he ever gambled.

“Well, Mr. Bernard 1 hope for the sake of
the one you so dearly ove, you will not gamble
again, and I am glad to have been able to serve
you 7' was the frank response.

“ e must meet again and be friends; what
is your name. please?”

“Edwin Arleigh, sir, a lieutenant in the
army.”

“ dwin Arlei hi Great God! are you the
son of Hugh Ar sigh and Helen Tracey?” and
Burt Bernard covered his face with his hands,
as if to shut out from his sight the face of the
man before him.

“Yes, you knew my parents then 3” said
Lieutenant Arleigh, surprised at the feeling
sh! Iwu by his companion. ‘

“ Yes; your father was. my boyhood friend;

 

 

 

 

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., -‘<:Ax‘WMd’-9Jv~w
_.\ - ..-.W...m_-~—.—. 4mm... v. fl-

,,, _, n1»,

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘ s

Bison Bill. the Overland Prince; 5‘ 

 

 

your mother I loved, and hoped to marry, but
your father won her.”

“Ah, yes, I remember now havin heard my
parents speak of you, and I am elightedto
meet their friend.”

“Arleigh we must meet again; breakfast
with me a my room tomorrow morning at
nine; good-night!" and seemineg deeply im-
gressed with the meeting with he young man,

urt Bernard turned away, stepped out of the
grand entrance to the saloon, and walked
ra idly up the dimly-lighted street.

ut, from the other side, under the shadow
of a tree, a man was watching him, and, ere
Bert Bernard had one a dozen paces, there
came a shrill whist e, a dark form sprung out
from the shelter of a door, and he was in a
gr he could not shake ofl’, while he heard the
wo :

“ Now, Burt Bernard, en die l” .

At the same moment t e man from the other
side of the street, who had given the whistle
of warning, rushed up and also grasped the
millionaire. '

But another had heard the whistle, and his
quick eye had seen the watchin form, and
bounding back, as be was ascen ing the stairs
to the saloon, he rushed out upon the pavement
and beheld the struggle.

Instantly he rushed to the rescue, there was a
knife blow and a pistol shot together, and two
men sunk upon the pavement in a heap, while a
third dashed swiftly away from the scene, and
a fourth stood ubo ve those who had fallen.

“ By Heaven! it was that blonde—haired fel-
low I saw in the saloon, and I fear he has killed
Mr. Bernard; it is too bad he escaped: but this
fellow has my bullet through his brain, and,”
leaning over im and hesitating for an instant,
“it is the Mexican companion of the other;
who would have thought they were assassins.

“Here comes help, and then I shall know if
Mr. Bernard is dead."

A crowd now gathered, and among them a

olice officer, and the young officer hastily made
his report, and a carriage coming, he placed
Mr. Bernard in it, and springing in himse f was
driven hastily to the rooms of the millionaire,
when a surgeon who had been sent for arrived
and examined the wounded man.

“The one who gave these knife blows, Lieu-
tenant Arleigh, was not a common assassin,
as he knew not where to strike,” said the sur-

eon.
“ See, these three glanced on the ribs, and are
merely flesh wounds, and this one, entering his
right side is the only dangerous one, and that I
do not believe fatal, with quiet for the patient
and careful nursing. ’

“He shall have careful nursin , sir,” said
Edwin Arleigh, and for the weeks hat followed
he kept his word, and when one day he was sud-
denly ordered to Utah with his regiment, he
left Burt Bernard in no danger whatever.

Who was his assassin Burt Bernard could not
find out, any more than could the police dis-
cover who was the dead Mexican shot down by
Edwin Arleigh, and a reward oi ten thousand
_ dollars, uttered by the millionaire for the cap-
ture of his intended murderer, failed to do any
good, for the blonde—haired and bearded stranger

 

who had so often visited the gauil'fingz; hell of
an evening, and been seen on the Sllu isin the 
afternoon, mysteriously disappeared from Sun I .
Francisco, and the haunts that had known him
knew him no more.

 

. r .

CHAPTER V.
BEEHIVE CITY.

Bum-m CITY, on the Overland road, was
situated directly in the mountains, and was one
of those characteristic settlements so common in r ,
the Western territories half a score or more years

a o. ,
gIt was on a plateau, overhung by a lofty ‘
mountain, and far above the valleys upon either /
side, and was approached by a long, winding,
and not very good road from the east, while the ,
highway going “est was a gradual slope 101“
miles to the rough country beyond. , v 
Originally a mere stage station, and then?
turned into a dinner stopping-plaice, it had  '4
shown much prosperity until gold and silver '1
had been discovered in paying uantities firms 
mountains in the vicinity, and t en, thither had' 4
flocked to Mountain Station, as it was atthat 3
time called, a large number of miners, and the? '
consequent attendants and hangers-7011 pf
mining-camp. , " ' 
In a short while the station im (Ned so, th
scene was such a busy one, and e inhabitant
so felt their importance, that a meeting was,
held, and Mountain Station changed its name to
Beehive City. » . -
As the business of the place, and its adjacent i"
mining—camps increased, the Overland stage l
company put on an extra coach, and Max:119?
being only a dinner-place, it also became a,»
terminus for stages coming from both east anth-
west. ‘ ’
With all the characters, from gamblers, min- 3
ers and loafers, to stage-drivers, shopkee rs {
and pony riders, the most admired and loo (fir 
up—to, were those who held the ribbons from the“ '
box of an Overland coach, and of these Burke
Halford was the idol. _
Of course there were certain gamblersme
looked on with awe and admiration, a pony
rider who was a pet of the masses, and others
to command the respect of the wild bordermcu
but none towered in glory to the hight obtained.
by Burke Halford. .
A giant in size, and a man who could easily ’ _;
handle three ordinary men, a dead shot, the 
champion driver, and a big-hearted, handsome 
fellow, he had won his way up, and Iwas looked 
upon with almost universal envy and respect; a,
and each trip in he was looked for eagerly, a ,
always greeted with a cheer.  .
All poor loafers who hung around the bar- 
rooms for precarious drinks, Weresure to hear, ~
upon the arrival of Burke Halford, the generous. i
invitation: ’
“ Gents, put yer belts to ther bar an’ say what
yer will swallow, fer it are my treat, an‘ that .
means ther invitation are general.” ~ 
With pleat of excitement daily and nightly «'
from the stri ing of new leads to the killing 
a miner and gambler, Beehive Gig Suddenly .
found another cause for talk, and it the 
general topic of coriversation. '
This new cause of excitementku the

   
  

 
 
 
  
  
  

 
  

w l. 

x

 

. 1

6 Bison Bill, the Overland Prince.

 

, 3 ing of a coach on the mountain, where it passed
,7 hrnugh r. dreary canyon, and the robbing of
th» passe)» ers.

Burke alford had been on the box, and with
5 him tho Eicpress messenger, while the vehicle
contained half a dozon passengers.

Burke, in his quiet way had told the story
upon the arrival of the stage at the station, and
the circumstanceswerc as follows:

' “ Hallo, Burke, where's Vint, the Express mes-
senger who was to come over with you?” called
7 out Boss Boniface, the kccpcr of the station, and
= . ’ Empirietor of tho Beehive Palaco, the hotel of

so ive City, and a board shanty that looked
liken huge barn.

, “ He are insido with ther pilgrims, Boss, so
shake ’em up, for thar is some of ’em hain’t
dead, onless they dicd o7 skcor,” remarked
Burke. throwing the lines upon either sideto
the stable-boys, and leisurely getting dowu from

, 1. his box.

" ' “ Why, Burke, what is the matter?” asked

I " Boss Bonifnco, opening the stage door, and

. starting buck as a (load form tumbled out upon

* the ground.

" “ He are dead, hain’t he?" asked tho driver.

“ I should think so."

“ Wan], thnr are more of ’cm so situated,
Boss; thar is Vint, the messenger,” and he drew
u out a slender form.

'« It was a young mun withn beardless face,

and he was dead.

r V “Come, pilgrims, this are Beehive City, an’

i" ,ycr is at thor Beehive Palace, so h’ist yerse’fs

 :out, an’ let’s see of thar is more trouble done,"

cried Burke, and out of the coach now came

’ two frightened-looking men, whose dress and

appearance showed them not to be denizens of

the Far West.

, - Bohind these came two miners, and they were

supporting in their arms a comrade, dressed as

‘ they were, who seemed soveruly wounded, for

‘ 359 stratified as thou gh in great anguish.

' ‘ The woun lod man, and the four unharmed

', _ ssengcrs, were taken into tho hotel by Boss

iv - ouil’ac), and the two dcad bodies wore borne
  away for burial, and then Burke Halford step«
9;? pod into the adjacent bar—room, and gave his
usual invitation. adding:

  “Give m: :1 10(2th brandv, Spirit Dick, for I

,, need-t bracin’ al‘ter what hev transpired.”

‘ , /S irit Dick, so called on account of his occu-

" potion as dispenser of spirits, and not from his

. ethereal naturr, for ho tipped the scales at two

' hundred and forty pounds, gave the brandy-

l ‘ bottle and a glass to the driver. and then set up

,5;- the gins 'es and drinks for the others, and there

If; ' a was a goodly number of thcm, too.

,‘ ‘ “Gents, your good hoalth and mine,” said the
,- . stageedriver, with provoking coolness, for the
 _ crowd was at fever heat to know what had oc-
,l‘f‘- curred on the run in of the coach.

.4: ‘ The drinks were dashed off with a gusto, and

‘1’ ,then' Grit Gaines, the Diamond Sport of Beehive

,, I. City, said, in his free and easy way:

’ “ Spirit Dick, set up the drinks again to my
tally, and in the meantime, Burke, giro us
f the gtory of the stilts you brought in with

you.

,ijow Grit Gaines was a man who was almost
unfit-really feared in Beehive City, in spite of

v- 4...” sum .94... .f... .

:'!.'\;-_‘ ‘err~

 
 

 

 

 

   
   
 
 

 

  
  
 
 

 
   
  
 
 

 

the reckless souls he. had for companions, and
yet he Was also exceedingly popular. ,

you-4,; man with a beardless face, and
looking scarcely over twenty-one years of age
there was yet that in his fearless eyes an
resolute mouth that would cause one to respect
him for the courage he knew he possexed.

As handsome as a. picture, and with a. form
perfect in outline, and womanly in his manner,
he was yet a devil when aroused, possessed the
strength of a giant, and on several occasions
when bullied had shown the tiger in his nature,
and proven that he feared nothing on earth.

Dressed like a dund , yet he carried a couple
of revolvers under his sack coat, as all knew,
that he could use with deadly recision; but
when any miner was in bad luc Grit Gaines
aided him in a quiet way; did a gambler go
broke and Want money, be staked him; was any
one sick, he nursed him, or paid some one to do
so, and in this way he had gained the love of
those who knew him, as, by his reckless gambling
and daring nature, ho had gained the prefix
of Grit to his name of Gaines, shortly after his
arrival in Beehive.

One day he had riddm up to the Beehive
Palace, splendidly mounted and well armed, and
had asked for the best room, and paid for it a
month in advance.

On the books he had registered his name
simply:

“ ALLAN Gmnns,
“ United States of America.’

That evening he had appeared in the “ For-
tune’s Lay-out ” as the gimbling and liquor
saloon of the Beehive Pa cc was called, and
had been picked up by some sports, who setting
him down for a greenhorn, left him with but a
Vin their pockets, which he handed back to
them with the remark: i»

“ This will start you again, boys.”

And outside of his deeds in Beehive City
nothing was known, and but one man had
been found bold enough to inquire into his an-
tecedents, and that man lost his life when press-
infi his insolent inquiries beyond forbearance.

ut then Grit Gaines had him decently
buried at his expense, and erected over .him a
tombstone to his memory.

Such was the man that had asked Burke Hal-
ford to tell the story of his adventure on the
road, for all others were content, from the awe
:hey felt for the great driver, to let him take his

ime.

 

CHAPTER VI.
THE STAGE-DRIVER’S STORY.

“ PABDS, and gents,” and Burke Halford, the
stage-driver of the Overland, looked around
upon the crowd, thou h which of the number
he designated as “ ards,” and which as
“ Gents,” it would take a. Philadelphia lawyer to
find out.

“ You wishes ter hear how it were I comet] in
tor-day with some cold meat inymy ole hearse,
an’ I has no objection tor tellin’ yer. an’ will do
so now, as I see; my festive friend Grit the
Gambler, are gittiu’ a lectle impatient." -

“ A good deal im atient, Burke, for life’s too
short to await an our for a story that can he

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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a; were/v inka

 

“1 WWW“,

 

 

’ Bison Bill, the Overland Prince. _, r "7

 

told in ten minutes; you found road-agents on
the way in, doubtless?" said the handsome
young gambler.

“ Thet is jist what Idid find; yer see, we hed
come half up the mountain, and had entered
Dead Man's Canyon, when all of a suddint I
seen a horseman sittin’ on his horse same as of
he Were waitin’ fer some one.

“ An’ thet are jist what he were doin’, pards;
he were waitin’ fer us, an’ we found it out too,
fer Vint, ther messenger, says ter me, says he:

“ ‘ Pard, thet man are masked.’ '

“ ‘No,’ says I; but I says a lie, fer he were
masked, fer he wore a red piece 0’ silk over his
face and hed eye—holes ter see out of.

“ ut he were a han’sum cuss, he were, as ter

eneral looks an’ make—up, speakin’ ’itbout see—
in’ his face, an’ be rid a red-bay horse, an’ he
were armed clean throu h, an’ were as fancy a
galoot as a Kansas gal w u’d like ter tackle at a
dance.

“ Says I:’

“ ‘ Vint, thet are feller is a-goin’ ter tackle us,
an’ I guesses thar is more like him Whnr he come

I from.’

“,Says Vint:

“‘Pard Halford, I hasn‘t felt just light 0’
late, fer I hes hed ther idee I might heV my
checks called in soon: but if it’s fight, say ther
word an’ I’ll let ’em taste ther lead.

“ ow, ther messenger hadn’t been so cheer-
ful 0’ late, an’ I felt kind 0’ sorry fer him, fer
when we gits ther warnin’, boys, we hes ter go.

“ lVaal, I says:

“‘Vint, cheer up, olc feller, an’ we’ll see
what is ter he did, when we knows ef his inten-

tions is honorable.’

“ An’ on I druv, pards, ontil I heerd ther
music:

“ ‘ Halt! up with yer hands!’

“ I halted, I did, fer I doesn’t like ter be cruel

~an’ run over a man, an’ as I cast my eye over

my shoulder, I hed seen more of akind; thet is,
that were horses plainly visible, an’ whar thar
were horses thar must hev been riders, tho’ I
c’u’d only see ther legs 0’ ther animiles under
ther bushes.

“ But Vint, he yelled out. ‘ I’ll see yer durned
fu’st, yer robbin, galoot,’ and away he pops at
ther gent on horseback, an’ Lord love ye, you’d
oughter seen what happen.

‘ I heerd ther robber say suthin’ ’mazin’ like,
a prayer, or cussin’, an’ be come for ther stage
ata run. an’ shot ther messenger through ther
head, an’ then let inter ther stage, an’ ou’d hev
been pleased ter hear then ther how in” inside
from them two tenderfe'et from the East.

“ Waal, pards, I held my hands up some as I
werea person askin’ blessin’s on his lambs, an’
then ther red mask perceded ter git acquainted
with ther contents 0’ ther hearse, fer nobody felt
like shootin’ sich a nice gent.

“Waal. I handed out ther Express-box. an’ be
just tuk ther bank-notes out, an’ said, pleasant—
like: ‘ Good-afternoon, sir; we will meet again,
and take a piece 0’ nartin’ advice.’

“ ‘gNhat are it, ye durned red-faced gerloot?’
sa 3 .

“ It are,’ says he, mighty polite-like, ‘thet
we will meet ’arly an’ often, an’ my advice are
that you ups yer han’s when yer hears ther

 

word, an’ then yer won’t git inter trouble with a
bullet.’

“ s I:

“3‘7Tgankee fer yer advice, pard; an’ who is
yer.

“Says he:

“ ‘Call me Red Rider, or ther Cap‘n o’ ther
Red Riders o’ ther Overland.’

“He waved his hand, that bed on it a red
glove, guv a whistle, a]? rode away, an’ I heard
plenty o’ ther gang follerin’ him from whar
they’d been hidin’ in ther thickets on ther side 0’
ther canyon. "

“ Waal, pards, I picked up poor Vint an’ t ‘
him in ther hearse, whar ther were ano er ifl,
an” one miner pilgrim wounded, and I druv on
heur, you bet, an’ ef ther Red Riders don’t
make trouble on ther Overland, jist call me a
tootin’ liar from Liarsville: what did yer say,
Pard Grit?”

“ I said,” responded the gambler, pleasantly,

“that it was a long time between drinks; set up , ,

the glasses again, Spirit Dick.”

Such was the driver’s story, and that it gave 7 '~

cause for excitement in Beehive City, the reader
can well understand, for it was the first time
road-agents had appeared on the Overland, in , ,
the vicinity of that prosperous mining village. , 7

CHAPTER VII.
THE RED RIDERS.
“ HALTI Hands up!” »‘
The stern voice that uttered the three words r'

 

rung out as clear as a bugle, and the one ton '

whom the threatening order was given dragged 1
hard on the reins, his foot 1; down the
brake, and the six horses drawing an Overland-
stage cameto a. sudden standstill. ,
The scene was an isolated spot on the Iaramie '
mountains, and on the Overland Stage road, "
and the one who gave the stern command waste 1 ‘
horseman, some ten paces ahead of the leaders,

with revolver drawn, and occupying apoeition r. r

in the center of a canyon. v
“ I pass, pard ” was the laconic responseof the ,
stage-driver, who dro ped his reins, as he drew " ,

his horses down to agalt, and raised his hands ,
above his head. -

At once half a dozen heads peered out of the 5 ' '

stage window, and several voices asked trem- '
ulously: ‘
“ What is it, driver?" ' , r
“ A leetle obstacle in ther road,” was the re- V

ply- I t
“ Cannot we get out and remove it?” oblig- :
inglzVr said one of the passengers. ‘ ' '_
‘ uess yer’d better not try pard, fer ther r
obstacle are a Red Rider.” ‘ A
"’ The Red Riders !" 7
The cry broke from the lips of every panama 
ger. for all well knew who were the Red Riders .
of the Overland, and dreaded them as they 
death itself. ' I .
“ Yes, the Bed Riders demand toll,” came in ,
the clear: tones of the horseman, and lookingwt ‘
again the passengers saw but one enemy to but
their way. ‘
“There is but one, and we are seven; we will
rvésigft,” said a dark-faced, heavily-bearded man
0 ty.  I ,r
“ There is others around, you bet; that  ,,

 

 

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it is his death lies at

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8 ‘ Bison Bill, the Overland Prince.

 

ther ca tain,” called out the driver, who over-
heard t e remark.

All this had passed almost in an instant of
time, and then the Red Rider’s voice was again
asking: b

ver, ave ou apassenger with you y
the name of Burt emard?"

All in the coach hastily looked the one at the
other, to see who would answer by that name,
but not one showed evidence of being the person
asked for, while the driver said:

“I hiin’t a schoolteacher, capt‘in, ter kee
ther name 0’ ther pilgrims in my hearse; but I’
ask ’em.

“Hez ary one o’ yer got ther handle 0’ Burt
Bernard, pards, fur ther Red Rider would be
pleased ter know, durn him.”

No answer came and the Red Rider immedi-
ately rode forwar and glanced into the coach
window, and all had a good look at him.

He was mounted upon a blood-red bay, and
the saddle and bridle were of red leather, while

' hewasdressed in a suit of black velvet. and

wore a mask of scarlet that completely hid his

Around his slender waist was a scarlet silk

V sash, half—hiding a belt that contained four re—

volvers, two on each hip, while two larger wea-
ns were held in holsters upon either side of
he saddle. '
A black hat. with red cord encircling it, and
a crimson ostrich plume, a pair of cavalr boots
and red gauntlet-gloves covering his han s com-
his costume.

. His form was muscular, he set his horse like
one raised in the saddle, and though his face
could not be seen, it was evndent that it was full
of reckless daring and resolution.

Glancing fear essly into the window of the

" stage he looked each passenger that sat on the
‘bac '

seat in the face, and then turned, at the

' same time moving his horse up a step, to observe

these on the front seat.

“By the Rockies! one man sba’n’t back me
down; take that, you red devil!”

, The speaker was a miner, suddenly driven to
whine-e by seeing no comrades to support the
Rider, and he threw his revolver forward

as he 5. he and pulled the tri ger.

But he cap snapped and be ore he could again
cock the weapon, there came a flash and the
miner fell back dead in his seat.

Without noticing the interruption, the Red

iRider still held his smoking revolver ready, as it

expecting others to resist; but had any one so
intended, the fate of their companion cowed them
and all remained silent.

“ Your name is Burt Bernard; you. are the one
I wan ," said the Red Rider sternly, his eyes
fixed upon the heavily-bearded passen er, who
at once dropped his hand upon his pisto -butt, to

as quickly resume it at the words:
a ,“ Draw it you dare!”

" “Well, sir, what want you with me?” sternly

i ' ukedthe bearded passenger.

“Had you made yourself known sooner you
would have saved that poor fellow‘s life; bu as
our door, not mine.”

“ ’l‘here is no need, ir Road-Agent, to discus:
the matt'e’r, but tell me at once, what wish you

me

 

“Your company; dismount, please. from the
coach, and it can go on to Beehive City, and if
Burke Halford drives a faster gait he can arrive
on time," said the Red Rider coolly.

“ Do you mean that I am to remain your pris-
oner?” asked Burt Bernard.

“ That is just What I do mean, sir; you either
sta’Iy willingly alive, or I keep your dead bod .”

here was no doubting the words of the d
Rider, or his tone and willing to compromise,
the nger sai :

“ hat pled e do you give me if I remain
that my life wi be safe?”

“ I give no pledges, sir; it will be for on to
decide as to flour living or dying. Ho d! not
one word wi I allow you With your fellow—
passengers, and if I see you make a motion to
put your hand in ougtpocket I will kill you.”

Burt Bernard g no hopelessly around him,
and thus he saw in the faces of is fellow- ms-
sengers that the dead form in their front ad
taken all the fight out of them. I

For a moment he seemed determined to bold-
ly resist, single-handed; but the revolver of the
road-agent captain covered his heart, and he
saw that it would be instant death to make a.
hostile motion. .

On the other hand, by surrendering to his;
captor, there was a chance that his life would
be saved whatever the loss might be to him
flnancia y.

“You are detaining the coach, sir," cried the
road-agent, sternly.

“ Very well, I submit to your terms and sur-
render.’

“A wise decision, Burt Bernard,” and with-
out taking his eyes off of his prisoner, be all—
dressed the driver:

“ Halford, you go back this evening, I be-
lieve?” _

‘K  ,7

“ Well, right at this spot on can ick up Mr.
Bernard 3—” y p

“But he hain’t going West, be are on thor
way East, an’ of he‘s my way 0’ thinkiu’, he
wishes he hed gone round b water.”

“Yes, I forggt, he goes ast: tell Bob Scott
he will find r. Bernard here awaiting him,
as he will be my guest until then.” ’

“ Will his toes be turned upfpard?” signifi—
cantly asked Burke Halford.

“ 0t if he comes to my terms,” was the
laconic re 1y.

“ An’ 6 he don’t?”

“ Then he'll have to be lifted into the hearse,”
significantly res nded the Red Riders’ captain,
and he continu , addressing his prisoner:

“Now, Mr. Bernard, please dismount.”

There was no hope, and Bert Bernard silent-
ly obeyed.

“ Drive on, Halford, and, by the way. tr
and drill your passen ers into not making too 5
of themse ves by resis ance, for I dislike to have
to add so largely to your Beehive cemetery.”

“ Yer may git a monument thar yerseli', Red
Rider, some 0’ these days,” growled Burke
Halford.

The Red Rider laughed lightly, and the ate 9
rolled on, leavin Burt Bernard standing in t e
road, moody an silent, and his captor covering
him with his revolver. -

 

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Bison Bill, the Overland Prince.‘ ' l9

 

CHAPTER V111,:
GAMBLER GRIT MAKES A PLEDGE.

WHEN the rattle of the stage died away, the
masked Red Rider gave a peculiar call, and the
sound of hoofs followed, coming out of the
dense under-brush up the side of the canyon.

A moment after, a bay horse, saddled and
bridled but riderless, trotted out into the trail,
and approaching the two men, halted.

“Burt Bernard, here is the horse you are to
ride; you see that I expected you to be my

gues .

“ Mount, please.”

Silently the risouer obeyed.

Wheeling aongside of him, the Red Rider
gave another signal, and again a movement
was heard in the bushes, and out of the thicket
wheeled two horsemen, both mounted upon
blood bays, wearing red masks and gloves,
dressed in black, and sitting. as upright as
statues.

As they moved down the canyon, the chief
and his captive followed, some sixty paces be—
hind, and once more asignal echoed through
the canyon.

The prisoner glanced back, as he saw his cap-
tor turn his head, and saw three more horse-
men, the very counter art of those in his front,
ride down into the trai and follow in the rear.

, Then, at a stern order from the chief, the

' horsemen set off at a rapid allop.

Followin the Overland rail for half a mile,
and until t ey came in sight of the stage, the
two leaders suddenly turned off to the right,
and going single file went up a path leading into
the mountains.

The clatter of their hoofs caused Burke Hal—
ford and the passengers to look back, and they
feared that they were to be again attacked.

But seeing them turn off up the mountain,
they gave a sigh of relief, and the stage-driver
sent his team along at a swinging gait, mutter-

in :

%.No more 0’ thet in mine, of yer lease Mr.
Red Rider, far it will be many a ay afore I
forgit poor Vint’s dead face, and ther look 0’
ther gent yer jist gobbled.”

Arriving at Beehive City, Burke Halford
again had a thrilling story to tell of this second
attack on his coach, and, as this was the fifth
time a stage had been halted on the mountain
during the past month, the excitement of the
denizens of the mining town was greatly inten-
sifled.

“Boys, we must form a band of Vi ilantes,”
said Grit the Gambler, when Burke h told his
story. and he had invited Spirit Dick to set up
drinks all round.

“What are ther Vigilantes ter do, gambler
pard?” asked an old miner.

“Drive these Red Riders out of the moun-
tains ” answered Grit Gaines.

“ for is quite youthful, pard, an’ may be able
ter shuffle a keerd prime, an’ drap a memy at
sixty feet, but when ther is road-agents ter
hunt, ’pcers for me it takes wisdom ter hunt
’em, an” it hain’t no hundred men heur hes ther
idleness ter go s’archin’ (er them fellers,” wisely
answeml the miner.

“ Why, Placer Dave, you do not think it would

 

take a hundred men to hunt down' this  M

Rider band of half a dozen?” returned Grit.

“ Thet is jist what it will do, pard, fer I hev
hed ’sperience thet way.

“ I hes hunted ther agints in Colorady, out of
Denver, and on other trails, an’ when a band 0’
gritty men gets tergether to rob honest men 0’
their ’arnin’s, they expects ter die hard, the is
'quainted with ther country, has retreats t ey
kin take keer of, knows how ter handle wee ' s,
an’ a dozen soon gits for be as good as a up-
dred in a fight. .

“ ’Sides, pards, ther is more’n a dozen 0’ these
1Red Riders, ef ther pilgrims 1111' drivers hain’t
iars. .

“I hes never seen morc’n six, Placer Dave;
but I hev my suspicions that they may be mill-
tiplied by ther figger 3, an7 I‘m with yer in
b’lievin’ it would take all 07 Beehive City to oust
em.

“No, we hes tcr wait until they (ices scum
big damage to ther road, or ter a Government

Express, or kills some big oflicer, an’ then ther, " '

Overland Company will turn out ag’in’ em, an’
ef it don’t ther sogers will, an’ I trust they’ll do

it soon, for it are a dangersome road to travel .

now.”
“You are right, Burke, and I for one will
stop to the front to aid you.”

“What is yer going ter do, Gambler Grit?" ¢

asked the driver.
“Well, I have considerable leisure on in

hands, and I shall scout around and seewha 5 ~ .

to he done, and then organize a band to fight
the Red Riders. '

“ I love excitement, and this will give it to
me,” and the gambler smiled, in his pleasant,

wa . I
‘yDurned of it don‘t; yer’ll git excitement at.

yer tackle them Riders an’ I ’vises yer ter jine.
ther church at oust, pard, fer yer’ll need prayih’
fer ter kee yer soul from goin’ marchm’ on,”
said Placer ave, and all lau bed.

But those who knew Gramb er‘Grit wen were .>

satisfied that if he made up his mind to under—

take anything, he would go through with it if it ' ‘ ‘ '

cost him his life, and, loving excitement, as did,
the denizens of that wild border town, '

were glad to feel that Beehive City was not'gm j
ing to get dull for want of a topic of deep in~‘  '

terest to discuss. ,
“Well, ards, I pledge myself to hunt down

the Red Riders, or go under,” said Gambler  1
Grit, and his pledge was received with enthusi— - '

asm; but a second remark was even more on-
thusiastically received. -

“ Come, gentlemen, we’ll drink to the pbdge

I make you.”
All drank.

 

CHAPTER IX.
BISON BILL “HANDLES THE mesons.”

 THERE was no doubt but that the Overland, . l

trail to Beehive City was daily becoming more
dangerous to travel, for, of the tour drivers 01.".
stages in and out of that sequestered hamlets}!
had been halted on the road, and heard th
threatening order: -
“Hands up!” , j‘
As long as the drivers, or these“ knights ,

    
 

,

 

 

 

 

'feet with ther toes turned up.”

are did fer.”

’ ,manner in which the driver brought, the six

Bison Bill, the Overland i’rince.

 

the reins,”,as they were called, obeyed this very
su gestive command, they were not harmed.

ut if. they neglected, a shot close to their
ears, as a reminder, proved that they were
merely spared as an accessor to bring through
the mountains the “pilgrims ’ to be robbed by
the Red Riders.

One driver Gauntlet-Glove Jerry, had
thought, with his usual recklessness, to run the
gant at of the Riders’ fire, and had tumbled
from his box a dead man from a shot from the
captain; another shot had brought down one of
his wheel-horses, and the passengers after being
robbed, were ordered to “ drive the hoarse on
to the ’Hive, and tell the drivers not to follow
in the toolhardy track of Gauntlet—Glove Jerry.”

This summary way of dealing with such
august indiVIduals as were the stage-drivers of
the Overland, completely bewildered the Bee—
hivers, and even set the drones to the task of
thinking, while it sent Gambler Grit off on an-
other solitary tramp to find the road-agents,
for he had made several long scouts of late, yet
without ap rent success.

One day randt Hastings’s coach came whirl—
ing 11 to the door of the Beehive Palace at a
sla ping pace, and as soon as it came in sight
all that could do so, ran out to see what was the
cause of the extraordinary haste.

The stage-horn had run out louder, and far
more merrily than ever randt Hastings had
played it before, and the Beehivers expected to
see the driver turn out a coach full of Red
Riders his skill and courage had captured.

But as it drew nearer, some one cried out:

“ They is runnin’ away!”

“ No they isn’t,” called out another, and then

01: ad fast came the comments.
I ‘f ys, Brandt Hastin’s hain’t got hold of
them reins."

“ No, ther is another galoot as has ’em.”

, “Thar are Hastings on ther top, an’ be are
laid out like a. stiff.”

“ Yer is right, Buck, fer I recognizes his big

“ An’ I sees his gloves; it are Brandt, an" be

“But who in thunder are it holdin’ ther rib-
bons?” ,

“ Don’t be handle ’em?”

“Who said they was runnin’ away? Why
\he‘s l in’ ther silk to ’em.”

“ o are he?”

“ He are a screamer l”

“Look at thet, how he come through ther
seven trees.”

“Thar hes been work back thar, pards.”

“ It are a gal with them ribbins, fer see her
longIhair.”

“ t do look like a gal.”

“ Cl’ar ther way, or he’ll knock ther Pallis ter
ther devil, an’ upsot all ther trees.”

“Not he; he’s hed ther ribbins in his grip
'afore.” ,
: “390my!”

The last Word was on a hundredlips, and it
.was meant as a cheer at seeing the splendid

foaming, running horses to a sudden halt directly
in front of the hotel door.
‘ .13. load, firm “ Whoa l” a strong pull and the

 

application of the California brakes had shown
that the driver, whoever he might be, lead held
the reins on a stage-box before, and it was no
wonder that his masterly driving won a cheer
from the crowd, who gathered around excitedly,
for all could now see that something of a very
startling nature had happened, and every eye
was turned upon the young driver who had so
skillfully brought the stage In.

.” Well, sir; there is been trouble, I see,” said
Boss Boniface, inquiringly, addressing the young
man who had 5 rung from the box, and who
had approached im.

He was apparently under twenty years of
age, to judge by his youthful, boarless faco,
though his form was tall and as firme knit to-
gether as though he were a man of forty.

Dressed handsomely, in a blue flannel suit, the
pants stuck in ham some cavalry boots, and
wearing a gra sombrero, turned up upon one
side, and held t ere with a gold pin representing
a buffalo, he was a striking-looking personage
in general make—up While his face wasstrangely
handsome, and combining in a remarkable dc-
gree the beauty of a woman with the dash, dar-
ing and resolution of a man who had faced danger
with a. check that would not blanch and an eye
that would not nail. "

Under his we l-fitting sack-coat was visible a
silver wire belt, and though they were con-
cealed, it was evident that the revolvers rested
upon either hip.

“ Yes,” he said, pleasantly, in answer to the
remark of Boss Boniface.

“Yes: we had some trouble but got through
all right; but there is a lady in the coach that
you might look after,” and the young man start-
ed on into the hotel, when a man, a rough—look—
ing miner, stepped forward and asked:

‘Pard, I has set eyes on fyou afore, an’ of I
hain’ta darned liar, you is ther healthy chap
they calls Bison Bill?”

“ Yes, and on are Nat Spencer, of Kansas,”
said Bison Bil , pleasantly.

“ I are, clean through, pard, and I delights
tcr grip yer fist.”

“ And I to meet you, Nat; bring your friends
and let us moisten our throats, for I am awfully

d . ,
xVxl’ll do it. Come, pards, this are a old pard

o’ mine, Bison Bil], Buffalo Billy, or What any
yer choose ter call him.

“ He haskilt Iniuns, rid Pony Express, bull-
whacked over the ormon trail, druv stage, an’
kin lick his weight in anything as kech tor
tackle him. Come, for he has ther dust, an’
he means it."

This introduction at once made Bison Bill
“ solid ” with the boys.

 

CHAPTER X.
A MINER HAS SOMETHING TO SAY 0F BISON BILL.
WHILE Nat Spencer, the miner from Kansas,
had been introducing Bison 3111 in his peculiar
way, Boss Boniface had helped from thestage
a slender, graceful form, whose face was hidden
beneath a gray Vail.

“If her foot, form and hand are criterions, ‘

her face must be levely,” muttered Boniface,
and then he asked himself mentally: '

 

llasmm .fimnmmm

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bison Bill, the Overland Prince. 11

 

“ Who is she, and what can she want in Bee-
hive City?"

“ Are you the landlord. sir?” she asked, as
Boss Boniface escorted her into the hotel, leav—
ing the three other passengers, a miner and two
shopkeepers, to alight from the stage as they
pleased.

“ I am, miss—I mean madam," he answered,
politely.

“ I will remain some time with you, perhaps,
and would be obliged for as pleasant a room as

on can give me,” she said, in a voice that was
ow and Sweet in tone.

“ You shall have the best the house has, miss
——Mrs.——madam—” and it was evident Boss
Boniface was fishing for the name to see if it
was miss or madam.

“ My name is Edith Ford,” she answered,
gilietly, and Boniface was still at sea, for was it

iss or Mrs. Ford?

Upon that point she did not satisfy him, but
raising her vail, she displayed a face of exquisite
beauty.

It was a dark, Gypsy-like facn, and there was
that in it to win love or cause fear.

But it was perfect, and seemed youthful in
the extreme.

At once charmed with his fair guest, Boss
Boniface ran out to have her room put in readi-
ness, and escorting her thither, she expressed
herself delighted with her quarters.

“ She is not 01;, that is certain,” he said,
glancing at her iamonds, as he bowed his way

out.

Going to the bar, Boss Boniface hoped to learn
more of her from the young man who had
driven in so skillfully; but he ound that Bison
Bill had gone off somewhere with Nat Spencer,
and that most of the crowd had gone along with
poor Brandt Hastings’s body to his cabin, to
prepare it for burial.

But in the saloon was an interested score of
human beings, listening to a miner whom Boni—
face had seen get out of the stage.

“Waal, paras,” he was saying, “all I know
is this.

“ Yer see, we expected ter be chawed up by
the Red Riders, and l were feeling darned nar-
vous, for I had a leetle paper I hcd jist sold my
dust fer. -

“ But ther gal with ther gray vail, she
seemed for be as cool as a cucumber on ice,
and ther two traders they was narvous, too,
though they hed nothin’ much with ’em tcr lose,
the",' said."

‘ And Bison Bill?” asked one.

“ Oh, he sat inside until Brandt Hastings
sung out to him thct they was approachin’
Dead Man’s Canyon, an’ then he gits out on
ther box, fer he had asked the driver ter let him
know.

“ He lied cotched sight 0’ ther gal’s face when
we stopped fer water, 1111' he. seemed tor be
kinder gone on her, an’ all broke up with love,
tho' he hadn’t said nary word to her, other than
ter pass ther time 0’ day, same as we all hed, an‘
then her voice seemed like a music-box wound
up an’ lettin’ of! poetry.

“ Waal, when Bison Bill goes ter mount ther
box, she said sweet-like, same as ef she were

 

tryin’ ter keep honey in her month an’ c’u’dn‘t,
for it would trickle out, says she:

“ ‘ Does yer intend tor fight ’em, sir?

“Says he:

“ ‘ I does.’

“ ‘ You is a brave man,’ says she.

“ Bully fer ther gal,” cried a. voice.

“ So say we all of us,” song out another.

“ Waal, pards,” continued the miner, “ yer see
she were clean grit, an’ I forgot were a gal, an’
jist dropped this ole dust-digger outer her knee,
an’ says :

“ ‘Lc-etle gal, yer is a double-distilled brick.’

“ Oh! but she were solid, fer she says: ‘

“ ‘ Thankee, sir.’

“Then she riz her voice an’ says in the same
purty way, addressin’ ther Bison Bill Sport:

“ ‘ Ef yer needs any help, sir, jist call r n Ir:('.’~

“ Boys, I come near huggin’ thet gal right
thar then, an’ tharover, but
was thet in her face as said:

“ ‘ Don’t do it, pard, for if I is ter be hugged, ,
I likes tcr pick thcr hugger,’ an’ it didn’t wen] ‘
like I was jist ther feller she’d pick.

“ Waal, thcr bosses seemed ter stc along
more pccrter, when Bison Bill got on gop ther
box, an' we heei'd him and Brandt Hastings
chinnin’ pleasant, un’ then he laughed like a.
school-boy jest let out 0’ school, an’ we was in,
ther canyon. ’

“ Then come thcr ’spccted word ter halt, an’
ggaiicin’ out o’ ther hearse I seen ther Red

iders comin’ down inter t cr road afore an’
ahind ther coach, an” ther cap’n coniin’ on thcr -
gallop straight fer us.

“ \ ’hen l looked back I seen a sight as tickled
me same as of I hed swallered a feather, an' what
do you think it were?

“ W an], it were ther gal aforesaid, an’ in each
hand she lied a silver mounted shootinrlron, an’
of she didn’t mean biz. then I are mistooken.

“ But next I heerd ther Bison feller sing out to
ther Red Rider cap’n ter go toward China.
through the ’arth, an’ next come a pistol-crack,
another, an’thcn another, an’ then loud train in'
0’ feet, a yell as come from poor Brandt ast~
ings, an’ we went on ag’in like ther devil.

“ I made bold ter look out. an' folks, I tellsyer,
ther Red Riders was dustin’, one horse were
down, an’ of I mistook not, it were ther cap’n’s,’ 3
an‘ he were half under him. r >

“ Then I glanced u at ther box, an' Iseen
Bison Bill sling Bran t Hastings back on that
roof 0’ thcr hearse and seize ther reins, an",
Lordyl how he did put ther silk to ther ammiles.
an’ we went through ther canyon like huntin'
buff‘ler. .

“ Waal, ther gal says ter me, fer them tender.- ,
feet were skeert thet bad they was whitean’ "
tremblin’, says she: ‘

“ ‘ Mister miner, what hev occurred ?’

“ Said I: _

“ ‘ Miss, thar hev been ayartbquake, an’ Bison
Bill are ther rooster thet set it a-goin’.’ _

“ She smiled sweet an’ put up her Weeping, an’
that youngster they calls ,ther Bison just pulled
us in heur, and heur we is, awful dry, ef does
say so.” .
Boss Boniface, who had We: cd in silence to
the stor , took the hint, and ordered Spirit
Dick to ‘ set ’em up all round!" ‘ ‘ '

 

pcrccivcd as thar »- ”

 

.«z .. 9-»... ~. .. two... . ..

 

Bison Bill. the Overland Prince. ‘

 

5 12
T
5 CHAPTER XI. but he hes sich uncommon sand, aresogame
i ' THE VAILED WOMAN. clean through, thet we calls him Grit, an’ as he
2‘ WHETHER it was this last outrage and the hesastyleoflayin’ keerds, we puts it to him
. killin of Brandt Hastings that had caused Gam- as Grit ther mblerl”

rit to decide to make another effort to “ Allan Gaines!”

3" bler
 capture or kill some of the Red Riders, I cannot
,i say, but certain it is that as soon as he heard
‘7? that Bison Bill had boldly run the gantlet of
‘ the road-a ents, be mounted his horse and, with
a couple 0 days’, provisions went off in another
. hunt after these‘terrors of the Overland trail.
3’, “ Thet feller will turn up missin’ yit, full 0’
‘1‘ grit as he is,” said one who saw him ride off.
", “ I guess he are strivin’ fer ther reward the
_‘ Overland Company an’ ther govarnor are offer-
} in’ fer ther heads 0’ ther Rod Riders," remarked
' another.
' “ Guess Grit ther Gambler don’t kecr much
i for ther dust, for he allus has plenty, as I have
' seen: but be are Cgust dare-devil enough to wish
,1. , her fetch in a Re Rider by himself, an’ of he
. keeps it up, I’m thinkin’ he’ll do it, for he’s a
hpt’in. be are,” put in a third.
' ‘ Of Whom are you speaking, gentlemen i“
. The question fell upon them like a bombshell.

Though a ver natural query for a stranger
to make, it too the half-dozen idlers by sur-

use
D And for two reasons.

.First, the voice was low, sweet, and win-
' mng.

Second, the uestioner called them gentlemen,
a title they sel om had up lied to them.

All turned totthe right-a out, and saw stand-
ing within five feet of them, leaning over the
railing of the hotel piazza, so designated from
' courtesy, a young irl. -

She was beautifu , that was certain.
, Her form was exquisite, and she was dressed
4. in a blue flannel suit, trimmed with gold braid

V and brass buttons. ,

‘ Her h'lll‘, as black as ink, was wound above
' her head in a large coil, and fastened by an
ivory comb.

In her ears were two solitaire diamonds, and
a match to them glittered on her left forefinger,
While a. ring, suspiciously like a wedding-ring
’ ' for it was a band of gold, was on the thii

finger of her left hand.

' She was looking squarely in the faces of the
crowd of men, and each one afterward swore
that she looked only at him.

It was the young lad who had come in the
stage-coach with Bison ill, and offered her ser-

‘yicas if needed.

This circumstance won the hearts of the men
at once, and every ragged hat was dolled with
the re clarity of an “ order arms.”

* r “ 0g whom were you speaking, gentlemen?”
V she again asked, with a smile, as none had an-
swered‘ her.
3 “0' a galoot as did jist ride out toward the
.v moimtain, miss," one said, hesitatingly.
‘ “ A gambler, I believe you called him?"

“ Yas,‘miss, he’s a shuffisr of keerds, an’ what
he r-an’t/ do with ther pasteboards no one else
noel t" I.”

' _ “ W hat did you say was his name?" 1wrsisted

the 11, iv. 1
. “ Waal, miss, he, writ hisse’f down as Allan

. Gaines, au’ghaied from ther universe in gineral;

   
  
   
    
   
 
 
 

 

The name broke from the 1i 5 in a way that
proved the woman had spoken hem in a medi~
tative Way, as though she were going back over
the tablets of memory, to discover where she
had heard it before.

“ Allan Gaines, or Grit the Gambler,” again
she said.

“ Yes, miss, that are it.”

“ He is the gentleman I wished to see: where
is he now?” she asked, in the same moody man-
ner.

“ Gone on a scout arter ther Red Riders.”

“ Ah! not alone?”

“ Yes, miss.”

“ He went alone, you say?” and she seemed in
feel some sudden and deep interest in the young
gambler.

“ He did for a fact, an’ he are about ther only
rooster in this heur lay—outas w‘u'd do it too, I’m
guessin’.”

“ Has no one yet discovered who these Red
Riders are?” she again asked.

“ No one seems fer wish fer be familiar with
79111. miss.”

“ They heard you all here with impunity.”

“ D un’t know but what they does, miss, tho’ I
doesn’t kmw yer meanin’ adzactly.”

“ Why do not some of you men band together
and hunt them down?”

“ Diggin’ dust pays better, miss; we is lookiu’
fer glold, not lead an‘ steel.”

“ here are two rewards offered for the cap-
ture of these Red Riders?”

“ Yes, miss; one of five thousand, fer ther
chief, the Overland Company will give, an’ ther
Territory governor will give as much more fer
ther ca tur’ o’ ther lay-out.”

“ An I Will give five thousand dollars for the
capture of the Red Rider chief, and one thou-
sand more for each of his men.”

All stared and gazed with renewed interest
upon the beautiful woman.

Who and what was she that she offered such
generous rewards for the Red Rider captain and
his band?

That was a uestion they could not solve.

filt‘ihen one, w 0 had been the chief spokesman,
$8.1 :

“ Will yer put that down, miss, in ink?”

“Yes,” and she turned away and entered the
hotel. saying simply:

“ Wait!”

She was absent for some minutes. and return-
ing had in her hand a dozen slips of paper.

“ Post these about conspicuously, please,”.she
said, and handed all but one to the crowd.

That one she herself upon the front of
the hotel, and again en .red the house.

As she did so. Bison Bill came along, and at
the request of the surprised crowd read what she
had written. ‘

It was in a bold hand, and read as follows:

“8,5000 REWARD.

" I will pay to the one who captum alive the chief
of the road-agent band, known as

 

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Bison Bill, the Overland Prince. 13

 

THE RED RIDERS,
the sum of
rrvn THOUSAND DOLLARS,
and to whom shall also capture, or kill any member
of his band, the sum of
our. THOUSAND DOLL/ms,
for each and every one taken or slain.
“ EDITH Form.
“ Beehive Palace.
“Beehive City.”
“ Guess ou’d as soon hev ther gal as the dust,
Bison Bill, ’ said Nat, with a sly twinkle in his

eye.
“I shall at least try for the reward, Nat,”
and Bison Bill walked away thoughtfully.

 

CHAPTER XII.
rim RED RmEa’s DEMAND.

WKEN the band of Red Riders at last came to
a halt with Burt Bernard their risonor, they
were some ten miles from Dead n’s Canyon,
and in the very heart of the mountains.

To the (north of Beehive City lay the mining-
camps, and a score of miles away, and even the
boldest prospector for gold had left the wild
fastnesses where the Red Riders had their home,
unexplored.

It was a spot reached only by risk of limb and
life, of both steed and rider, and a dozen of de-
termined men, well armed, against almost half
a hundred.

Once in the retreat Burt Bernard’s first
thought was how much nature had done to pro-
tect the outlaws from pursuit and attack, and
to sup ort them after they were in their strong-
hold, or the grass grew in luxuriance, the
streams were clear as crystal and icy cold, and
the ame wandered about in abundance, seem-
in ittle to dread the presence Of man.

neath the branches of a. huge‘ tree a. tent
was itched, and before it burned a fire of logs,
at ‘ch stood an Indian, preparing the mid-
dav meal.

No other tent or habitation was visible in
looking up the glen, and toward this the Red
Rider chief rode, his risoner by his side.

The other Red Ri ers bore silently away up
the glen, and disappeared in a thicket, before
which were several other horses feeding upon
the 'uicy grass.

“ ere Is In home, Burt Bernard; dismount,
and Stingin . nake will soon have us some din—
ner, after w ich we will discuss the cause of m
bringing you here, said the Red Rider chic ,
quietly. , ,

Then turnin to the red-skin, who was a state‘
1y Ute chief, a said something in the Indian
ton e to him, and walked away in the direction
his orsemen had gone.

The Indian gruuted a reply, but though he
did not look at Burt Bernard, it was evident
that he was his keeper in the absence of his
chief.

Throwing himself upon a bearskin robe, Burt
Bernard gave himself up to thought, and mused

aloud.
“What,” he muttered, “ is to become of me?
“After all I have passed through, with gold
and hope of honor and luxury in my grasp, am
I to die new? '

 

“ No, this devil cannot mean to kill me. '

“He will bleed me of my old, and bleed me
well, for somehow he knows am rich.

“That is all, 1 think.

“ But who is he?

“ That’s the question; and how familiar his
voice sounds.

“ I have heard it before. and seen him, too.

“By heaven! I verily believe he is the
blonde—bearded man who made an attempt on
my life that night in ’Frisco, torob me of my
winnings.

“ NO, not my winnings, but What that noble
fellow, Edwin Arleigh, won back for me.

“ I am sorry he was ordered 011‘ so suddenly,
as I was drawn toward him strangely, consider-
ing the phantoms his face brought up. .

‘Ahl here comes that accursed Red Riderg’7

Back again to the tent now came the Red
Rider captain, and the Indian having prepared
the meal, he invited his prisoner to partake ot’ it
with him. ;

But Burt Bernard was in no mood for eating,
and paced to an fro, while the Red Rider,
raising the curtain of his mask just above his
mouth, sat down and ate heartily.

“ I wish I could see the rest of his face, or re-
call who that man is,” said Burt Bernard in a
puzzled way. ,/

After finishing his dinner, at which he Was.
waited on in silence by the Stinging Snake, [the
Red Rider entered his tent, calling to his prison-
er to follow him.

“ Be seated, sir,” he said, motioning to a
bliII'ffalo-robe, while he sat down upon a bear-
s in. *

Silently Burt Bernard obeyed.

%fter an instant of thought, the Red Ridch
sai : r

“ Burt Bernard, I have long waited and
hoped for this moment, when I could be face to
face with you.” A

“ Why, ma I ask?”

"' Because cherish against you feelings of the
intenscst reven 6.”

Burn Bernar turned a shade paler, but asked, 1
calmly: . '

“ How have I wronged you 3” ,

“ Bitterly; but never mind what you have
done, as it all de nds now upon what you will ’
do, to save your ife and your money." , "

“ What is it you demand of me?”

“ I believe you have a daughter?”

Burt Bernard started, and said, in a low tone:

“ What Of her?" .

“ Her name is Helen?"

M Yes. 37

“Named after an old love, whose maiden v 7

name was Helen Tracey?"

“ Who are you, man?”

“ It matters not; is she as beautiful as was
Helen Tracey?”

“You knew Helen, then?” quickly cried the
prisoner.

it Yes.”
“ Again I ask, who are you?”
Wit out noticing the remark, the Red Rider
went on:

“ Your daughter is at a fashionable boarding-
echool, I believe?” V

“ She has just graduated.”

,. A, s u ,__ e, "a. .-,. .,.. .m,

14: Bison Bill, the Overland Prince,

 

“ She is your heiress?”

“ Yes.”
,_“ You love her very dearly i”

“Above all else in the world.“

“ More than your riches?”

U Yes."

“ More than your life?”

(i  1'!

“ You wish to see her happy?”

“ Above all things.”

“ She must marry, than.”

“ Marry? why, she’s but a child.”

“ She is eighteen; the same age Helm Tracey
’ was when she cast you 011' for your rival, Hugh
Arleigh; by the way, what ever became of poor
Arleigh’l" -

Burt Bernard turned livid, but he had schooled
himself well to Self—control, and answered in an
inditferent way:

“ He failed, and then disappeared, I believe.”

“ Poor fellowl now tell me if your daughter
has, ever", loved any one?”

o

        
  
  
  
  
  

“ Well, she must marry.”
, , “You are bold, sir, and—7’

. .“Now be"careful. for out here a life is of
hardiy_any consequence, and you might lose
youts.‘

7 ,‘,‘ Hear my demand.”
. I [dweupr

’ fill-You must make your will, leaving all you
have to your daughter, upon one condition.’

“Name it.”

‘5 That‘she marries one I will select for her.”

“ You are an accursod fool, and I will-—"
~ “No you won‘t, and I am not an accursed
ool. .
,“The one I wish your daughter to marry is a
1 1101319 fellow, a gentleman, and he alreud y loves
. 'her, I know, though he does not know who she
._ is.”

,“Bahl you talk like an idiot; your crimes
» have turned your head,” said Burt Bernard,

cheerian .

“ 0’; {talk sense, and I will prove it: your
, ’ lighter was at the opera one night in the city
‘where she attended boarding—school, and it
,, ca‘uzht 0,1,1 fire?”

“She occupied a box with several schoolmates
and a couple of her teachers?”

. “ In the wild fright and confusion all would
.have been lost but for the act of a young man,
who saved them by leading them out by a small
' window that opened upon the roof of an adjoin-
., lug house?”

H Yes-h

. “ Your daughter fainted, and was borne out

in the arms of her preserveri”
” “Yes.” -

3‘ Well, that young man was—”

“ Hal you know him then?”
. “ I do.”
1 " Well, I am glad to be able to find out who
he was; please tell me his name," eagerly said
Burt Bernard.
,.“ First let me say that he sat in the orchestra
with his father. admiring the beauty of your
daulghfér, and then said that she was one he
 «1 love.

 

 

“The moment the fire broke out, he made
his way to the box, and saved her and her

pang.

“ 6 did not know who she was, for he lei t
early the next day; but his father met her
afterward on the street, asked who she was, and
found out that she was your dau hter.

“ Now he is the young man intend your
daughter shall marry,” and there was that in
the face of the Red Rider that proved he would
hesitate at nothing to gain his end.

 

CHAPTER XIII.
rum PLEDGE.

F'OR an instant Burt Bernard made no reply
to the determined demand of Red Rider; but
then he said, in a low, firm voice:

“I love my child more than all else in the
world, and I will never force her to do that
which will render her unhappy.”

The Red Rider answered: ‘

“ It will not make her unhap y; she owes her
life to the oung man, and t t is a strong
bond, while e already loves her, I tell you."

“ And is your friend?"

U Yes.”

“Then she will marry a villain.”

{‘Ha! do you mean toinsult me?” was the

ry cry.

‘ How can I?

“You are a road-agent, the chief of a band
of devils that are the terror of this country, and
your life is stained with crimes.

“ Being such yourself, what else can be the
man Gyou call your friend ?”

“ 0d reasoning, I’ll admit,” sheared the
Rider.

“But Burt Bernard, he is not a villain, al-
though I so. he is my friend.

“ Ho ho] s an honorable position in life, and
little dreams what I am.”

“ Ah! I have your word for it only.”

“True. and my word is good; beware, Burt
Bernard, for 1 know that you are not one to
throw censure upon a miner.”

Burt Be
hide his emotion, said quickly: ,

“ Well, I refuse your demand.” ,

“ N 0, you do not, for I hold the whip-hand of
you.

“ You are a rich man; a large sum you dug
out of a mine, and by speculation you increased
your wealth.

“ You now have with you gold checks
amounting to nearly all you are worth, and I
know it.”

Burt Bernard now became livid, and as he
passed his hand over his brow he trembled vio-
lent] , While the Red Rider continued:

" his money you can go on with to your
home, if you agree to my demand.

“ If not, you shall indorse these gold drafts,
and I will kill you, Burt Bernard, and then, go
on myself and marry your daughter to the one
I have selected to be her husband. Remember,
she will lose the fortune you would leave’ her,

marry the man I wish her to, and you will for- '

feit your life.
“ Now, sir, what will on do?“ . .,
It was evident that art Bernard rmlized

shuddered and, as though to’

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Bison Bill, the Overland Prince. 15

 

most fully the position he was in, and that there
was no escape from it.

He had alrvudy, through an agent, purchased
a handsome home in a pretty Eastern town, and
had built. castles in the air of the ho. piness he
would enjoy there in the company of IS beauti-
ful daughter.

But now the cup of hope was snatched from
his lips, and death and despair stared him in
the face.

In utter dejection, he asked.

“ Who is this young man you would force my
daughter to marry 2”

“ Do you agree to give your written consent
to my demand, and thus be allowed to go on
your way unmolested?”

“ I can do nothing else, God knows,” he said,
in a tone of anguish.

“ Write then as I dictate; here are pen, ink
and paper.”

A portfolio was placed in the hands of the
prisoner and he wrote, in a hesitating way, as
the Red Rider directed:

“CAMP IN rm: MOUNTAINS, September 1, 18—.

“1, Burton Bernard, do—"

“ Hold on, sir!” suddenly cried the Red Rider,
in an angry tone.

“ Well, sir?”

“You are disguisin your hand. No tricks
with me, Burt Bernar , for I know your writing
and signature as well as I do my own.”

Wit a sigh at having been detected, Burt
Bernard tore up the paper and commenced
again, and in his natural handwriting:

“ Cum IN The Monurms, September 1, 18—.
“I, Burton Bernard, do hereby pledge myself to
give to In ‘ daughter Helen my roperty only on
condition I. at she becomes the wi e o —"

“ Leave blank space for the name,” interrupt-
ed the Red Rider.
“ Well, it is done.”

“Should she refuse," continued the Red Rider,
and Burt Bernard wrote as the other dictated. “then
not one dollar of my estate shall go to her at my
death, but all be willed to a charitah e home for old
men and women.

“And I also pledge in *self that the marriage. of
my dau hter and the sai — — shall take place
within 1 e term of one year from date.

“ Boar BERNARD."

“ New, sir, why did you leave the name out?”
asked Burt Bernard.

“ Simply to keep you in suspense as long as
possible' you can write it in now.”

“ W011?”

“It is the name of the son of your old
rival.”

“ “’hat! the son of}???

‘l '

“ Joofl’tfit rim” '

In amazement, Burt Bernard sprung to his
feet and paced to and fro.

At last the Red Rider spoke, in his quiet
way:

“ Do on object to the young man 3”

“ He ad two sons, twin brothers, I believe?"

.u Yes-n

“ Which one of them is it?”

“One went to the bad, and is a gambler

 

somewhere now in Kansas: the other entered
the army, and is a gallant officer now on the
border.”

“ Yes; which one is it?” and breathlessly Burt
Bernard awaited the reply.

“ It is Edwin.”

“ He is the oficer?”

l‘ Yes.”

“ Thank God i”

“ You know him, then?”

“ Yes, and I owe him my life. God be thank-
ed, my child will not be made wretched by her
father’s accursed folly.

“ But what is this noble man, this Edwin
Arlei rh to you, an outlaw?”

“ e is one that I owe much to, and I there-
fore Wish to return him some favor.

“ Now, we can return to the canyon, and you
can continue on with Bob Scott, who drives the
East-bound stage this evening; but fill in the
blanks with the name of Edwin Arleigh, while
Snake gets our horses.”

Silently Burt Bernard obeyed, and taking the
paper the Red Rider folded it up carefully,
while the Indian led the horses forward.

Mounting, the two men rode slowly away,
while a shrill whistle brought out of the distant
timber a dozen mounted horsemen, who followed _
slowly on after their leader.

CHAPTER XIV.
A NEW GRIPE ON THE masons. ‘

THE very generous reward offered by Edith
Ford, the strange and beautiful young lad at
the Beehive Palace, put the denizens of Be ive
City to thinking, and the result was that when
Burke Halford came in with the story of the loss'
of one passenger by capture and another by -
death and two of the drivers, Brandt Easting: .
and ‘auntlet—Glove Jerry had been called ‘
hand in their checks, while Bison Bill hnd bold-
ly driven through, they decided that something
must be done at once. .

Bob Scott on the East-bound coach, hadro-

orted that he had met Burt Bernard in Dead

Ian’s Canyon, awaiting him, and had icked
him up and carried him on with him to t o and
of his drive. '

But the Red Riders had been nowhere visible,
and Burt Bernard had had little to say of his
visit to the agents, but had said they numbered
over a dozen, for he had seen that number.

On his way back Bob Scott had been halted
and several of the passengers had been rob
by the daring captain of the Red Riders, whose
men, as usual, sat like statues on their horses
lookin on.

As ambler Grit had not returned, the young
lady at the Beehive Palace seemed to grow ner-
vous, and, as Burke Halford was goingto mount
his box to, 0 out on the Eastern drive. she sud-
denl calle out:

“ will go with you, Mr. Halford.”

“Better not, miss; these is danger-some times
fer men folks, not to speak 0’ wimmin.”

“ I do not feel an fear, and it you will kind- -
ly wait a moment will accompan you,” was ,
the fearless res onse, and in a coup e of minutes
she ran out wit hat and cloak on and asked
Boss Boniface to aid her to the box by the side
of Burke Halford. , .

 

l 1 “4“!

   

,. 18

 

Bison Bill, the Overland 1’14an

 

The driver seemed exceedingly delighted at
1- this preference shown him, and in spite of the
' dangerous read he was to travel, there were a

. . number in the crowd that envied him.
' With a crack of his whip, Burke sent the
' " team flying down the road, and the coach dis«
appeared from sight, while those who frequent-
the dominions of Spirit Dick gossiped over
,, the probabilities of new adventures to be met
_‘ ,. with on the run to the next station, and won-
! dared why the maiden had risked her life by go-

in .

, gIf ther Riders show ’emselves, pards, ther
.r 9.1 will be heard from,” remarked a miner, and
F ' n this opinion all seemed to agree.

In the mean time the coach rolled swiftly on,
and the pleased look on the face of Burke Hul-
ford did not change until Dead Man’s Canyon
came in sight.

 H‘. r Then he became serious ceased chatting with
i ’ his fair companion, took is reins well in hand,
 ' and drove on in silence.
‘ The echoes of the hoof-falls and the roll of the
wheels alone broke the silence, and the stage
entered the dismal canyon, with all inside silent
and dreading, and the two on the box calm and
fearless.
But through the shadowy canyon it passed,

- ‘ : and Burke Halford gave a deep si h of relief.
~ . “ You certainly expected troub e that time,”
‘ said Edith Ford, turning to him.
> “I sart’iuly did, miss: but it’s got ter come

gyit,” was the serious answer.

i y f Detach mean that they Will waylay us at
, some 0 '61! place?“

“ , .‘fehi‘no: that is ther place for diviltry; but I
m: that in ther Dead Man’s Canyon I’ll

" ' L. 11 i ' .
yififitfqmy eheck., he said sad] .
Mot

 

   
    
 
 
 
 
   
 
  
  
  
    
    
  
  
    
  
 
 

.l
sensel they will not kill you, if you halt
' old: to.”
? “Gauntlet-Glove Jerry an’ Brandt Hastings
lie'sboth gone under miss, an’ you knows thet
Bob Scott an' we is hoth doin’ double (lot as
t’othe’r drivers hain’t anxious ter foller this our

1'08
 “Wellfit you believe you will lose your life
\here, Why do you not give up the position and
takesomethin else?”
* . 50h, miss, 1; ’tain‘t no use ter try an‘ dodge
death; he’ll find yer out wherever yer may ro,
- hn’ ther is suthin’ heur tells me that he are ob
“ onm trail."

* “ ou havea presentiment of evil?”
, “ Yes, miss, same as poor Vint ther messenger
"did, an’ it come true on him, an’ will do ther
‘ , same on me.“ V

Mei ~ “ on’t feel that way, Mr. Halford. for you
-must shake off this gloom upon you,” said the
maiden, in a cheering. kind] tone.

“I can’t ive it ther is ake, miss; I only
wishesl o‘u’ : but we won’t talk 0’ it now, but
, , upon some cheerful topic as will make us laugh
5;, 2 an’ I does love ter see yer smile an’ show them

pret teeth 0’ yourn; is they doctor made, miss,
or (ii yeriraiso ’em yersell’?’ ,
,y “I raised them: they just growed, as Topsy
said Mr. Halford,” laughed Edith Ford. ~-
I ) “Wool, they is as white as milk, an’ as shiny
‘ as a. nigger’s heel: an’ yer eyes dances lively
gwhen. yer laughs, an’ does in heart good ter
1 unit; he’ll be a daisy gerlo‘ot, miss, as gits you

 

ter tie to him fer life, an’ (if he don’t use you
right, 'ist tell me, an’ l’ll kill him, of I doesn’t
die in ead Man’s Canyon."

At the words of the driver Edith Ford sud—
denly turned deadly pale. and set her teeth
hard; but she turned her face away to hide the
sudden emotion sweeping over her, and asked
qnietl , after a moment of silence:

“ ou will let me return on the box with you,
Mr, Halford, and not allow any man to take ,
it?

“Nary man hnin’t lookin’ fer a seat up heur
now, miss, an‘ you‘ll be welcome to it.

“Thar hes but one man rid on ther box 0’ only
of our hearses 0‘ late, an’ that were thet han -
some young chap they calls Bison Bill; did yer
see him, miss?”

“Yes, and he is a very dashing, handsome
young man.”

“Yer is right, miss, an” ef he hain’t a good
one, I lies fer delight in it.

“He drives better than I does tor-day, an
thet are sayin‘ much, fer I hain’t no slouch an’
thar will be somebody in Beehive as will tackle
him some day an’ find they hes bit off more
than they kin chaw, as they did with Grit ther
Gambler.”

“ And who is this Grit the Gambler, Mr. Hal-
ford?" askedEdith Ford, with sudden interest.

“He are a good one, from Goodonesvillc,
miss; a keerd-shuflier, but clean grit, and squar’
in dealiu’ with them as needs sympathy, but a
terror mothers.

“It ’pears ter me, miss, that such prime fel-
lers as Bison Bill and Gambler Grit c‘u’d jist
walk away with that leetlo heart 0’ yourn.”

“You would not have them both walk off
with it, Mr. Halford?" she said, with a. laugh;
but the laugh was forced.

“Oh, no, only one kin win in a game. 0’ thot
kind, miss; now, ef yer’d like ter l’arn ter drive
jist tackle ther ribbons," and Burke handed the
reins to the maiden.

1_ lint after an instant he cried with amazed de-
ig 2

“Waal, ef yer isn’t a driver from Drivers-
ville call me a Injun' yer is ther boss driverl
ever see,” and he ga with admiration as the
maiden sent the team at a. rapid pace over a
really dangerous road, and with a skill that was
marvelous.

In fact, he never again took the reins until
El]? stage rolled into the station at the end of his

rive.

 

CHAPTER XV. .
THE SHADOW or DEATH. '

“ THET feelin’ 0‘ gloom grows on me miss."

It was the first remark made by l3urt Hal-
ford for over a mile, as the stage rolled along,
on its return trip to Beehive City, and he sat on
his box, with Edith Ford by his side as his fair
com ianion.

“ or shame, Mr. Halford: you said you would
not get blue.” she answered.

“ Can’t help‘it, miss; I are not afeerd to die,
tho’ I isn’t p11]ng fer it ter come arter me.

“I enjoys life as it are, an’ w’u’d be content
ter count some more years afore I hev ter pass in ,
mv c n .

. P5
“But then, ther shadow 0’ death are on me, V ,

 

 

Ml)“:

 

 

 

Bison Bill, the Overland Prince.

 

I knows, an’ thcr nearer I gits ter ther Dead
Man’s Canyon, ther deeper ther shadow grows.”

“ Will you do me a favor, Mr. Halford?" sud—
denl asked the maiden.

“ are ther boy thet will, miss.”

“Then, feeling as you do, get into the coach
and let me drive through the canyon, for you
know that I can.”

“ I knows thet yer kin drive to ther taste 0’
any one miss, but Burke Halford hain’t ther-
man tor leave ther post 0’ duty, when he thinks
death are coniin’ tcr occupy it.”

“ Only for this once, and then, my word for
it this presentiincnt of death will pass away,”
pleaded the maiden.

“ No, miss; tliar be in thcr inside 0’ this
hearse four pilgrims, an’ I c’n’dn’t look ’cni in
ther face of l was ter duck my head inside.

“ No, miss; I sits right on this box.”

“ Well, let me drive through the canyon,
then.”

“Yas; I’ll do thet fer yer; but when ther
word comes ter halt an” hands up, yer muss
stop, fer I W’u’dn’t hev yer hurtcd for ther
world.” ’

The maiden made no reply, but grasped the
reins, changed Lcr seat to the right of the box,
and sent the team ahead ate. more lively pace.

And into the canyon the couch rolled at a
rapid gait, and the shadows of the overhanging
trees were upon them.

“ There they is, miss."

It; was Burke Halford that spoke, and his
voice she hardly recognized.

Glancing ahead, she saw four horsemen block-
ing the road ahead, and a. quick look behind
showed as many more just entering the canyon
and following.

Setting her teeth she took a firmer grasp of
the reins, and chirped to the horses to quicken
their ace.

“ altl hands up, or die I”

There was no mistaking the ringing voice, or
the determination to carry out the threat if the
order was disobeyed.

But the notice taken of it by Edith Ford was
to bring the whip suddenly down upon the
horses, and to cry to them to go, in a tone that
made them bound forward at full speed.

“ Great God, miss! you’ll be kilt,” shouted
Burke Halford, and he leaned forward to seize
the reins, when there came a sharp report. and
with a cry he fell from the box, directly down
upon the backs of the wheel-horses, that, startled

,by the blow, sprung madly forward, forcing

those in advance into a terrificpaca.

But, though seeing the brave driver shot from
his box, and hearing the crushing sound as the
wheels went over his body, Edith Ford did not
lose her presence of mind for an instant, but,
rising, held the reins in one hand, while with
the other she drew a revolver and fired upon
the captain or the' Red Riders, who was Just
riding down into the canyon.

Surprised at the act, he rained his horse sud-
denly back, but not to fire, although his re—
volver, that had just killed poor Halford, was
thrust forward, and without a word allowed the
stage to dash away through the canyon, a
shrill whistle as a signal to his men ahead,causing
them to hurriedly seek safety in the timber.

 

CHAPTER XVI.
BISON BILL eons TO THE DEAD ihN’s CANYON.

HAVING onco determined to 11111 the gantlct
of the Red Riders, Edith Ford urged the horses
on with loud cries, and sent several shots after
the retreating horsemen as they disappeared in
the timber.

Seeing that the stage was dashing along at a
terrific speed, and one of the passengers having
seen the driver tall from t ehox, and all felt
the shock as the wheels dashed over him, they
believed that they would be dashed to pieces, if
they were not shot by the Red Riders, and were
in no enviable position. '

Hearing the shots fired by ii maiden. one ct
their number glanced out of ice stage Window
and looked up and down the early! 11. ,

“ Pards,” he cried, excitedly, “ ther Riders
hes got, an’ we is gittin’, fer ther horses is run—
nin’ away, an’ yit ther gal are a-holdin’ onto
ther ribbons fer all she is worth. '

Edith.

.19;

“Shall I help yer, miss?” he called out to I.

“ No; I can manage them,” was the short re— .

ply, and the determination half formed to climb
out on the box was checked, for the passenger
liked not the flushing eyes turned upon him.

But that she spoke the truth he soon discern-
ed, for the horses were kept in the road, eve
deep rut and large rock was skillfully avoid ', v
and though the team went flying along the ‘
mountain road at a break-neck pace, it was evi-
dent that they were held well in hand by the
fair driver. ‘

Up and down the trail, around the mountain—
side, and then straight for Beehive City the I
went, their necks stretched, their nest

Janting and their hides white with sweaty
0am.

was heard by the passengers the s rill ch
and cry of the beautiful driver, and then f —

lowed the crack of the whip as the “ silk” was - Q r
laid on, and all knew that it was tobearun ,

clear into the station of Beehive City. 

As last the loafers and gossips heard the
rin ing hoofs coming and a. crowd quickly '
gat ered in front of t e hotel to discover why,
Burke Hulrord was coming in at such break-
neck speed. '

“Ithain’t Bison Bill a-drivin’ this time, for
be are hour,” said one.

“ Whoever it are, he do be makin’ ther crit- ‘ ‘

ters fly,” responded another.

“ Here she comes 1” t

The cry burst from a dozen throats in chorus, -
and into full sight swept six horses. -

Then another cry broke from the crowd, and
Boss Boniface fairly shouted:

“ The girl is driving!”

“Yes, Burke are not on the box,” said Nat .
Spencer, and in breathless silence all waited as
the stage came on at a thundering pace. . '

“ Sto ’em, or the ’11 bu’st ther hearse an’ kill
ther go 5 an’ thcr pi grims.” _

“ An’ ther p‘ 'ms is anxious accordin’.”
cried a voice, as saw two heads looking anxv-
iously out of each window of the coach.

“Holden! the gal has the team in hand;-  "
cried Boas Boniface, as the crowd surged um, ‘

as if to try check the flying team.

 

But when they slackened their s there ‘ 

 

 

18 ‘ Bison Bill, the Overland Prince.

 

He saw what the others then discerned, that

filthgugh at full speed, the team was held in
an .

And the next minute up come the six horses
at a run, the fair driver gave a strong tug on
r the reins, her small, neat y-booted foot went
, down hard on the brakes, and she said, firmly

With a suddeness that bumped the heads of
the passengers together. though this was not
complained of as it was at last a halt, the coach
stopped, and willini hands grasped the bits of
the horses, while ‘dith Ford nimbly sprung
from her lofty perch to the ground, and was
half caught by Boss Boniface, who cried

eagevr‘iy.
.ell done Miss Ford' but where is Burke?”
“ Lying bee in Dead Man’s Canyon,” was the
_ reply)? a trembling voice.

l ad?”

U Yes.”

u And by__”

“ The ca tain of the Red Riders killed him.”

“ Didn’t e halt when ordered?"

“ He was not driving.”

“ He was not driving?"

“ No, I held the reins, and thought we could
run through; and we did, but poor Mr. Halford
was shot and falling before the wheels was run
over i, I then drove on and the Red Riders let us

    
   

pass.

_ “ They did for a fact. Ther gal skeert them,
i as bad as she skeert us, a-racin’ over ther moun-
t‘ins; but I is obleeged to yer, miss, all ther same
 as‘I héd a leetle dust with me ther Riders didn‘t

8i - '
‘T vg‘Ye/r hes a noble backbone, miss, an’ ther

‘ devil hesn’t got more grip than you hes,” and one
V of the passengers came forward and offered his
V hand, which dith frankly gras d.

 It 'was the same one who ha offered his ser-
vices to the maiden, after Burke Halford’s death,
V and he continued:
_ * “ As yer saved my dust, miss, I are willin’ ter
drink yer good health, so, boys, we’ll adj’ine to
, ther benziue mill an’ liquor up, an’ you, miss,
shell hev a bottle 0' wine of it costs a twenty-
dolla: piece, an’ we’ll drink to ther pluckiest
pettiooat as ever I see."

The crowd williijiggly followed the miner, while
Boss Boniface led d th Ford into the hotel, and
rifeng from her a more detailed account of the

r.

“ We must bury poor Burke, so I’ll at some
'  of the boys and well go after his b0 ,” said

,i the kind-hearted prOprietor of the eehive

ce.
. .“ And I will accompany you, for I wish to try
the‘horse I purchased of you,” said Edith.

“ It’s a dangerous trip, for we may meet the
Red Riders." .

“You forget that I have just met them.”

“ Ah, yes. I will have the horse saddled for
, you,” and Boss Boniface went to call to ether a
v corn any of volunteers to go after the odg of
. the sin driver, when he was met by Bison ill
who said quietly: ~-
‘, “ Mr. Boniface, I have just learned of the last
attack on the coach, and am going to bring the
, ’body of  Halford in.”

7- w!

 

 

“We will be glad to have you go with us,
Cody,’ for I was just starting to look up volun-
teers.

“ Pardon me, but I prefer to go alone, and
beg that you leave the matter to me.”

‘ But, my friend, the boys—”

“ Pard, let me whisper something in your ear,
and 1 am sure you will allow me to do as I
please in this matter.” v

As Bison Bill spoke he leaned forward and said
something in a low tone, and it was evident
that Boss Boniface was surprised, and convinced,
for he said:

“ Well, you can do as you please, for I have
nolléhing more to say; only take care of your-
se .

“Trust me for that, pard,” reassured Bison
Bill with a light laugh, and ten minutes after
he rode away alone in the direction of Dead
Man’s Canyon.

And ten minutes after his departure a person
followed on his trail.

That one was Edith Ford, mounted on a fine
roan mare she had bought from “ ther boss 0’
ther Palis,” as “ the boys ” called Boss Boniface.

 

CHAPTER XVII.
A man’s PLUCK.

AMONG the “ baggage” which Bison Bill had
brought with him to Beehive City, was a very
handsome Texas saddle, horse-«hair bridle and
lariat. and, with these very necessary articles
upon the border, he was not very long in finding
a good horse to Put them on.

With his hots duties, Boss Boniface combined
the business of horse-trading, and he had several
ver fine animals on hand, one of which he sold
to dith Ford for a good price, and a second, a
dark buckskin with white tail and mane, which
Bison B111 fancied sufficiently to pay a good
round sum for.

Trying the animal he found him full of met-
tle, swift, and. with bottom enough to last him
many lon miles over a hard country.

It was uckskin Chief, as he named him, that
he mounted and rode away to get the body of
poor Halford, and it was Roan Rocket her ur-
chase from Boss Boniface, which Edith 0rd
had ridden on the trail of Bison Bil].

Bison Bill was certainly splendidly armed,
and he looked like a man capable of rendering
a good account of himself in any danger he
might meet.

3 for Edith Ford, she wore a handsome rid-
ing-habit of buckskin, elaborately beaded and
trimmed with dyed quills. ,

It fitted her graceful form to perfection, the
skirt was short and not burdensome, and with
her slouch hat and plume, she certainly made a
handsome e uestrienne, especially as she rode as
well as she rove.

Around her slender waist was a belt contain-
ing a pair of silver mounted revolvers, and the
reader has already seen that she had the pluck
to use them. ’

“ Strange that I should follow that man,
Bison Bill,” she muttered as she rode into the
timber, several hundred yardS'behind the young
horseman, and then, after a moment, she added:

 

“But I cannot help it, for something tells'me

“M, \
V »- "'<
 ,

Iim

 

 exp.

a: 

< -5.r~r.,_~__fl“‘ c

 .. . ;.. z

 5.-.- s, _.,I isms,

 

 

Bison Bill, the Overland Prince. 19 ‘

 

to do so, and that something I must obey; at
least I will obey it, come what may.”

A gain she rode on in silence for a few minutes,
and then said:

“ I fired to frighten him, for I cared not to
kill him."

That she referred to her firing upon the Red
Rider ca. thin her next words proved, for, in the
some halp-nloud tone she muttered:

“ I do not believe it was he, though there was
something in the air and form like him; if it
was, he has grown larger and stoutcr. \Vcll, I
shall soon know for I will keep the oath I made
on the grave that night, if I grow gray on the
trail searching for him.”

Feeling that she was dropping too far behind
Bison Bill, she rode on at a faster gait, until she
felt that he could not be far ahead.

But then, as she drew her horse down to a
walk once more, she suddenly halted, for there
was heard ahead of her a. vorco crying:

“ Hal ha! we have you now, Bison Bill.”

There was no shot fired, no outcry, no answer
to the triumphant words; but, without a. mo-
ment’s hesitation, Edith Ford urgzd her roan
into a run, and keeping upon the mossy bank,
dashed upon a scene where, at a glance, she sow
the presence of a brave man was needed to help
a comrade in distress.

Fortunately the moss path' deadened the
hoof-falls of the roan, an none in the scene saw
her until she dashed into their very midst, and
with two well~directed shots dropped two men
in their tracks, one of whom was evidently &
dead man are he touched the earth, for a bullet
had pierced his brain.

CHAPTER XVIII.
AN OLD GRUDGE.

THE scene that fell upon the gaze of Edith
Ford was one that would have deterred many a
bold man from breaking in upon.

But with a nature utterly fearless, a self—re-
liance that was remarkable, and a carelessness
of consequences that amounted to recklessness,
Edith Ford at once dashed forward to the aid
of Bison Bill, who certainly needed that aid.

The road at that place wound around a rocky
point of a hill, and half-concealed in the bushes
two men had been seated, evidently having
halted for a. rest, as back in the little glen be—
hind them their horses were feeding, held by
lariats.

“ Ford,” said. one, and whose face was full of
cruelty, “I guesses we oughter be near ther
city. »

“Yes; it cannot be far away, from the ac—
count given us at the station we last left,” an—
swured the latter.

This last speaker was a man of tall, sinewy
form, had a. slender waist and broad shoulders,
and every indication of possessing strength far
above the average.

He was dressed in a suit of blue cloth, stylish-
ly made, and ornamented with brass buttons,
1: at gave him the look of a soldier; but the
buttons bore no mark upon them to designate
that he belonged to either arm or navy.

His hat was a black slouc , encircled by a

 

tarnished gilt cord, and his boots were drawn
over his pants and armed with brass spurs.

Under his sack—coat was visiblea belt of arms,
and a pair of pistol, were to be seen in the hol-
sters of his saddle, their silver—ornamented butts
glittering in the sunlight as the horse, a hand—
some sorrel, moved about in search of juicy
morsels of grass.

The face of the man was a. study, for the fea-
tures were finely chiseled, the brow bold and
full of intellect, and the eyes piercing and ex-
pressive, but upon all rested a mask of passions
ungoverned, and their beauty was marred by
dissipation and recklessness.

Yet he seemed to be proud of his personal
appearance, as he curled his long mustache
with his fingers one instant, and then passed his
hand caressineg throu h his long dark hair,
which fell upon his shou ders.

Where one man was little more than a brute
in appearance, the other could have, if so he had
willed, won the admiration of his fellow-men
and women.

And yet the two were strangely alike in one
thing, and that fellow~feeling held them to-
gether.

Need I say that this bond was in having ,
devilish natures that were fully akin, the one to
the other?

“ls yer sart’in, cap’n, thet ther youth is at
Beehive?” asked the rougher of the two men.

“ch; or there is some one there strangely .- L

like him, and going under his name.”

“Which name, cap’n, for he hes been called I, 

Pa—e-has—ka by ther lnjuns, Buffalo Billy, and
hes also the handle 0’ Blson Bill.”

“ That is the one he is known by here, and it
is Bison Bill you are paid to kill,” was the stern
response.  _

“ Oh, I’ll do it, cap’n; I loves ter let blood, of v
ther pay is prime, an’ I will say yer is generous;
but does yer heur a. horse a-comin‘?”

“ Yes; some one is coming from the direction '

of Beehive City. Ha! there he comes, and, by _ , / X

the heavens above, it is Bison Bill!”
“ Cap n, we is in luck. I’ll just take ahead

on him with my rifle, and drop him slick as, 

grease.”

“No; I prefer to take him alive, and then, '
afterI have toyed with him, as the cal: does
with the mouse, then I can kill him,” and the
face of the man was fiendish in its hatred. , ,

“ They say he is a screamer. We won’t notch
ther wrong feller ter play with, cap’n.”

“I’ll risk it. Move, and give me room to
throw my lasso." v

Silently the man obe ed. and a moment after
the lariat was skillful y thrown, and the noose '
settled down 11 on the shoulders of the unsus— ,
fleeting Bison ill, and he was dragged from V

is saddle, falling heavily, as his frightened,
horse dashed forward. I

With his arms pinioned as they were, and
partially, stunned by the fall, before Bison Bill '
could rise to his feet, his two foes had sli _*
down the rock and were upon him, and mm
the lips of one broke the triumphant cry that ’~
had reached the ears of Edith Ford.

“ Kent Cameron, you have me at last,” mid
Bing: Bill, coolly, as he recognized who wanna
cap 1'.  .

  
 

20

   

Bison Bill, the Overland Prince.

 

  
  
 
    
    
  
  
   
   
    
   
 
   
  
     
  
  
   
 
  
  
   
    
  
  
   
    
  
   
  
 
   
   
  
   
 
 

“ Yes, and I intend to keep the oath I made
to kill you, Buffalo Bill, for bad it not been for
you, I would have to-day been an honorable
man. and been wedded to the one woman I ever
loved,” savagely said the captor, whom Bison
Bill had called Kent Cameron.

7 “You lie, as usual, for you cannot tell the
truth. You were a dishonored dog before I
ever saw you——~ Ha!"

The latter expression escaped from the 1i 3 of
Bison Bill as he suddenly saw a horse das ing
up to the s at, and heard the ring of two shots.

It was dith Ford, and in her sweet way, as
she saw the two men prone upon the ground, she

sai :

“ Well, Mister Bison Bill, you seem to be in
trouble,”

“ No, Miss Ford, I am not in the slightest trou-
ble, thanks to your timely aid," was the reply.

“ You were ambushed, then?"

“ Yes; and jerked from my saddle with this
lariat with which I am bound. Had it not been
for you, I would have been on my last trail, as
that man would have killed me.”

“ You know him, then?”

7 “Oh, yes; he is an old foe. Ike thim from

' marrying a lovely girl, by exposing is villainy,

« and he was dismissed from the army, in which
he was a captain, and swore to kill me for hav-
ing ruined him. It seems he passed in his
cheeks first.

" "You are a good shot, Miss Ford, but is it
’not dangerous for a lady to be riding so far
from the town alone?”

,' “ Not so much so, it seems, as for a man, as

'I have met with no danger; but stand nearer

, m§horse and ‘I will untie that lariat.”

» ' ison Bill obeyed, but, finding the knots
’rnther strongly tied for her dainty fingers to

with: easily, she slipped to the ground, and

 her sharp teeth, which had been the ad-

- mlration of Burke Halford.

,And. thus bending down to her work, neither

she her Bison Bill saw one of the formsu n

the ground noiselessly rise to his feet, and t en

1 as suddenly bound away.

Both heard him spring into the thicket, and

saw him disappear, and the maiden drew her

, pistol and sent several shots flying after him,
while Bison Bill called to her to take his knife

. and sever the lariat.

 This she did, and seizing his belt of arms from

vwhero it lay upon the grass, having been thrown

, - there by his captors, he darted u the side of the
' rock just in time to 366' Kent ameron mount

his horse and ride down the glen like the wind,

unhurt by the shots sent after him. .

' “He has esca ed, and I have no horse to fol-

,JOW him,” said ison Bill.

“ Take mine, or shall I give chase?” cried
Edith.

“Oh, no; you have already placed yourself
’in too great danger. Ah, I forgot; this fellow
must have had a horse,” and Bison Bill again
. w ranto the top of the rock, and caught sight of

_ the animal that had belonged to the ruflian.
Instantly he approached him, and soon led
‘. him out into the trail.

_ "“He is about on a par with his master, for be
its. sorr beast,” he said, with a smile. ‘-

“ Hark!"

 

At the word from Edith, both listened atten=
tively, and heard a horse coming- rapidly toward

cm.

"It may be Buckskin Chief returning. If so,
something, or seine one has started him back.
Yes; it is my horse,” and going forward, Bison
Bill met the animal, and with little trouble
cau ht him.

“ ow, Miss Ford, I will follow on the trail
of Kent Cameron, and I beg you to return at
once to Beehive City and tell Boss Bonifice to
send after the body of Halford, the driver, and
why I did not go on.

‘ As they come by here they can put this fel-
low under ground, for he is human, and I don‘t
wish the wild beasts to tear him in pieces.”

Edith made no reply, and taking her‘silonre
as consent, Bison Bill mounted Buckskin Chief,
and handing her the rein of the sorry-looking
horse ridden h the dead ruflian, dashed away
on the trail of cut Cameron.

Watching him until he was out of sight, the
maiden muttered:

“ Now I understand the motive that prompt-
ed me to follow him, and I saved his life by so
doing.

“ ut I’ll not go back to Beehive City until I
find out What was done with the body of that
brave driver. Come along, sir, for I may need
you," and dragging the led horse after her,
Edith, with a shuddering glance at the dead
body, rode on down the trail toward Dead
Man’s Canyon.

 

CHAPTER XIX.
THE MEETING IN run CANYON.

CONTINUING on her way, Editd Ford, after a
ride of half an hour, and a thorough taxing of
her patience to the utmost by the contrary dis-
position of the horse she was leading, arrived
in sight of Dead Man’s Canyon.

Wishing to be free for flight or fight, she tied
the led horse to a sapling, and with her reins in
hand, and a drawn revolver, rode cautiously
forward.

Soon she came to the spot where she knew the
stage had been halted, and drawing rein glanced
searchiugly around her.

But the place was still as the grave, and no-
where visib e was the body of Burke Halford.

Where could it be?

Had he not been killed, and managed to
escape? she thought.

No. that was impossible, as she had seen him
fall in a heap upon the backs of the wheel-
horses, and then hurled between them, while
she heard the heavy coach-wheels crushing over
his body. '5 r

Had the Red Riders buried him? That was a
question which search only would answer.

But why had they done so, when they seemed
to be men without hearts?

Slowly she rode around in her search, and
presently came to a hall) at the base of a rock.

There in a mossy bank was a new-made
grave, carefully shaped into a mound, and evi-

ently the work of some careful hand, or a
kindly one.

At one sidelof the grave stood a small tree,

with smooth bark, and upon the trunk, skilh

 

 

 
 
      
       
    

   

 

, ,N ,W- gt .n.fa_f_._i_.__s._..-—~—~W-—w'jia! .



Bison Bill, the [Overland Prince. 81 ~

 

fully cut out with a knife, Edith Ford read
aloud as follows:

“ BURKE HALFORD.
"A STAGE-DRIVER on THE ovanmnn,

“Killed Sept. 5th, 18—, by the Captain of Red Riders,
“ And buried by
“The one that took his life.
“ Who respected his unflinching courage.

“ Peace to his ashes."

“ Well, I am glad. to see the Red Rider cap-
tain has a heart; it certainly cannot be the one
I thought it was, for he showed no mercy," mut—
tered Edith Ford, and then she sat in silence
gazing sadly down upon the rave of the noble
st edriver, for if Burke alford had a few
faalfits, his virtues outweighed them.

Wiping away tears. that unbidden came into
her eyes, Edith Ford turned her horse away
from the grave and rodo back toward where
she had hitched the other animal.

” That rave at the hands of a foe, is a more
fitting triEute than a monument by the friends
qf poor Halford,” she muttered, showing that
her thoughts were still with the dead.

And thus Idst in reverie she did not see a
horseman who was crouching back against the
side of a rock, hoping seeming] , that she would
pass him by, for he ad rein his horse back
under the shadow of the cliff, and held him
there motionless.

From his attitude it was evident that the
comin of the maiden had surprised him too,
for Mind just descended the mountain—side by
a narrow path that led around the cliff, and to
turn and fly would draw her eyes ufpon him,
while he might avoid observation 1' he kept

uiet.
q One act of his was a strange one upon seeing
the maiden. for he had starth suddenly and
turned deadly pale, while he dragged the rim of
his hat far down over his e es, at the same
time thrusting forward a rave ver as though to

re.

But the eyes of Edith Ford were as keen as
an eagle’s, and, in spite of her moody reverie
she suddenly caught sight of the dark forms 0
horse and rider.

The canyon was darkened by the overhang-
ing rocks, with their heavy fringe of trees, and
but dimly could she see that a foe perhaps was
near yet who, of course she could not tel .

Believing, however, that it could be none
other than a Red Rider, she put her hand upon
her istol, but hesitated at the stern command:

“ old! woman though you are I will kill you
if you draw that was n.’

‘ Who are on?” s e asked with all the cool—
noss she coul command, though she refrained
from drawing her pistol, seeming to understand
that the man had made no idle threat.

“Who I am matters not to you; ride on,
would you save your life,” was the deep, stern
answer. _

“I would see the captain of the Red Rider
outln ws,” she said in a more even tone.

“ Then seek him in his haunts,” was the gruff
res use. ' ‘

‘ Then you are not a Red Rider?

1.

 

“"1 am one who will kill you if you ride not.
on.

“ As I care not to be shot down like a dog,
and you have the drop on me, in frontier par-
lance, I will obey,” she answered with spirit,
and she moved her horse slowly forward, and
as she did so, in vain tried to get a better glance
at the horseman.

But the shadow of the overhanging rock, and
a few leaves of a (Projecting branch, hid
him quite securely an she kept on her way,
evidently disappointed and angry with herself,
as she muttered:

f‘I must keep my eyes open hereafter.” »

Unfastening the rein of the horse of the dead
ruflian she was determined not to be worried
by leading him, so turned him loose, and drove
him on before her on the trail back to Beehive
City, the horseman under the shadow of the
cliff watching her until she was out of sight.

Then he uttered a deep sigh and rode out into
the canyon, while through his shut teeth came
the words: .

“ Great God! what an escape, for that woman
was Edith Balfour, for there is but one other
face in the world llko hers, and I know it is not
that one.

“ What can she be (icing here, and alone, when-

I deemed her miles away?

“ By Heaven! she has but one motive in being
here and that is to track me down.

“ hut forewarned, is forearmeu, and I will
play a game to eucher her.”

,.

As the man said this he came more fully out 1“ ‘

of the ,

into the glare falling through the to
rit the

canyon, and the handsome face of
Gambler was'distinctly revealed.

CHAPTER XX.
ON THE WAR-PATH. ' .
WHEN Edith had reached within a mile¢

 

.1» '

Beehive City, she heard the clatter of boots, and, . V

at once was on
what danger she had to face.

her guard, for she knew 

But soon into sight dasheda party of  v 

score horsemen, an at their head she rewgnizbd‘
Boss Boniface of the Palace Hotel. '
At sight of her they gave vent to three rous-
in cheers, and dashing up came to a sudden,
ha t, while the Boss called out: - :
“We are after you, Miss Ford, and are de-
lighted to find you.”

“ Well, we feared you were, as you got tam}
very slyly and I did not know where you b '
gone, and fearing you might get into danger,
the ”boys volunteered to come after you with‘
me.

“It Was very kind of you all and perhaps
foolish in me to go off by myself, but I am glad
that I did so, as it has resulted in good, of which.
I will tell you."

In a few words then Edith Ford told the story

of her two adVentures, and was gazed upon by '

m.-

 

“Thank you, Mr. Boniface, but I was not 
lost," she answered somewhat coldly. , '

the rough party with undisguised admira- 

tion, while many a rude compliment, though
not intended as rudeness, was bestowed

her. C
“Well, I declare you do beat all thatlemj,‘

edBossBonita, .09.“!!!

saw,” bluntly remar

 

Jam-mm .hwnww._.-u a...» nu“.

 

82 Bison Bill, the Overland Prince. ' «

 

l then proposed to ride on, bury the dead ruflian,
take a look at Burke Halford s grave, and then

see if the strange horseman seen by Edith in

the canyon could be found, or any trace discov-

ered of Bison Bill.

 “I will go with you, if you please," said

If Edith.

“ Yes, and be our captain too, miss, if you

w .

 “A couple of you boys start that devilish—
". looking brute on toward the cit , and then over-
I=? W take us; he may pan out he] a hundred, Miss
3 , Ford after I have had him a short time in my
jl care," said Bog; Boniface, referring to the
 . animal of the dead rutflun.

,‘ ’ , ' The horse was started 011 the trail to Beehive
 ' " 'Oity, and then the party went on at a gallop for
.1 ‘ the canyon Edith and Bess Boniface lending
 " and the on are coming two by two behind,
t- while the clatter of the horses" hoofs awoke
many an echo in the mountains as they sped

on .

Béore very long the body of the dead ruflian
was found, lying on the roadside where Bison
Bill had thrown it, and some of the men dis-
mounted to give it a hasty burial.

Among these was Not Spencer, the Kansas
friend of Bison Bill, and he seemed to at once
récognize the dead man, for after calmly appro-
printin the contents of the rufl’lnn’s pockets,
andw oh, by the way panned out considerable,
not to speak of a pack of cards and a flask of
whisky as vile as the owner, he said, while look-
.ing at Edith:

. ‘ Miss, yer hes done ther country service, but

’hev disappointed ther' hangmun, fur I knows
this teller. ’

“ Who is he, Natl" asked a number of voices.

‘ “ Wan], pards, his acquaintance hain’t no
' honor ter me, I admit, fer be are Snoozer Dan,

a outer-an‘cuter (lesFeI‘mlO, ready to cut a
threat or steal a go d-mine, au’ thcr Lord be
raised that he hev gathered him to tllcr devil.
guess he died hard, miss, fur he hev had a
number 0' wounds afore.”
“ No I shot him in the brain and he fell like
a. log; l fired also at the head oi his companion,"
was the quiet reply of the maiden.
.\ “Shot him in ther brain, did yer? Waal, thar
,1 hain’t any brain oozed out o’ ther wound, miss,
an’ it hain’t likely he hed any.

“ But, pards, ef yer hez thet grave dug, we’ll

consign him; an’ don’t hov it too deep, as ther
devil will want him More lon ; thet’s it~—uow
he’s fixed outil Gabriel toots t er risin‘ hymn;
' so mote it be, amen, an’ thet are his fun‘ral
,, ’_ doxology."
l And such was all the dead dcsperado received
1* in the way of funeral services, for Edith had
.» ridden on. having said to Boss Boniface, while
. the rs dimmed her eyes:

 

l
L

~: J.

    

  

“ t would seem like sacrilege for me, who
killed him, to repeat the service over him: and
yet. I hate to see a human being buried as
hou h he were a brute.”

“ e is worse, Miss Ford, for he had the form
' . and gtgts of a man, and descended lower than a

“And yet, vile as he was, there is some one
in all this vile world to love him,”she answered,

sadly. ..

 

 

“ I doubt it,” muttered Boniface, but he kept
the idea to himself, and rode on rapidly once
more, while behind them came the minch at a
swift gallop.

Arriving at the Dead Man‘s Canyon. they
found it as quiet as though no scene of deat
and deviltry had ever marred the solitude of its
shadows, and unable to find the strange horse
man who had met Edith Ford, or to discover
any Sign of the Red Riders, the took a sorrow-
ful look at the grave of Burke alford.

“My durnerl eyes are so full 0’ water. miss
at seciu’ the grave o' Burkie, thet I can’t read
what are wrote on that tree," said Nat Spencer,
who did not possess the gift of reading, any-
how.”

Edith took the hint, and by reading the in-
scription aloud, relieved many a mind of the
fear that they would have to own up to their
ignorance, and confess they could not decipher
the skillfully out lettering.

“ \Vaul, pard, old feller, we bids yer good—by,
though we hates ter lenvo yer in yer cold bed.

“But I guesses yer is better posted than we
be now, an kin tell to the squar’ inch when we
hev ter chip in.

“ Good—by, Purd Burke, au‘ ef they uses yer
hard whar or hes gone, tell ’em yer hes pards
heur as Will’sw’ar fer yer thet yer was clean
grit, straight as a arrer, and squar’ to ther
end.”

Having delivered this parting address to the
dead friend in the grave, Nut Spencer turned
away, and the party dashed back toward Bee-
hive City just ns the evening shadows began to
creep far ‘ across the valley.

 

CHAPTER XXI.
run TWO MOUNTAIN TRAILS.

WHEN the man whom Bison Bill had called
Kent Cameron fell in his tracks at the shot of
Edith Ford, he had not been seriously wounded,
as the bullet had barely grazed his head, cutting
a gash that was of little consc uence to a per—
son who daily gave and receivgd hard knocks.

But as a blow of the fist will fell a man to the
ground, so did the bullet, and for an instant he
was stunned.

But Kent Cameron soon became conscious of
what was going on around him, and determined
to act accordingly.

A glance un er his eyelids showed him that
his companion, Snoozer Dan, as he was called by
his comrades, was havin his last snooze on
earth, and if he showed Signs of life, he would
doubtless quickly follow his example.

A man to take desperate chances when there
was anything in his favor, but very cautious of
risking life, if the odds were against him, he
bided his time, and determined to make a bold
elfort for escape. ‘ I

The untying of the lariat with which Bison
Bill was bound gave him this chance, and he
was quick to take advantage of it.

At first he decided to boldly attack the maid-
en and the bound man; but then his pistols he
had been cleaning. when he had halted to reét
on the rocks, and the few cartridges he had re-
placed in the chambers he feared to trust.

His knife was at hand, it is true, but than

"“ 'f """in .WN‘u-‘IU..‘.$.J

 

€fi~L..’r~{r.i-v. _.

 

 

 

 ,, sing:

Bison Bill, the Overland Prince. '  23 "

 

Edith might shoot him, or release Bison Bill,
and his great strength and prowess with a blade
he well knew.

“ No, I will escape and bide my time for an-
other day," he muttered, and he at once set
aboat making the attempt.

“ How he succeeded the reader already knows.

Once on his own fine horse, and he was away
with a speed that seemed to defy pursuit, escap-
ini the shots sent after him.

ut upon his trail soon followed Bison Bill,
and he was as swift as a deer and as untiring
and true to the scent as a bloodhound.

Although Kent Cameron had obtained quite a
start Bison Bill sped along in the direction by
which his enemy had gone, and following him
along the ridge of the mountain, suddenly drew
rein at a point where the trail divided.

One went down one side of the mountain, and
one down the other.

To find out which Kent Cameron had taken
was the uestion.

Throwmg himself frgmh his horse, Bison Bill
la flat u n e roun , is car upon the rock
trzil, andxlisteneg. y

“ He has not gone this way,” he muttered,and
descending the mountain a few steps, he again
tried the same plan.

WYes, he has taken this trail, for I hear the
rattle of hoofs against the rocks,” he said, joy-

fnfiy. _

ounting his horse once more, he set out
down the steep trail, and felt that he was gain-
ing upon his foe.

After a descent of a mile, he found the path
narrowed to just sufficient width to permit his
horse to pass, and that he seemed to be ap-
proaching the head of a deep glen, for there
was a mountain opposite to him, and the valley
narrowed as he went along.

Suddenly, in turning a sharp angle of a preci-
pice, he drew rein, forcing his horse back out of

si ht.

é‘he objects which he saw that caused this
maneuver were a horse and rider, and they
were coming toward him.

It was not that he feared to meet them on
that narrow shelf, for, though comin so as to
meet him, the horseman was on the ot er side of
the glen, and on a athway as narrow as that
upon which he 

Acloser glance up the glen was sufficient to
show Bison Bill that the path the other man
was upon was the same he himself was travel-
ing, only that it rounded the head of the glen,
or canyon, and then gradually descended the
side of the other mountain to the valley below.

Around the narrow shelf, the way by which
Kent Cameron had gone, was half a mile. but
across the glen, directly opposite to him, Bison
Bill knew that the canyon was not sixty
paces.

From his position behind the jutting int of
the precipice, Bison Bill saw that he h his foe
at his mercy, and he muttered, in a determined
way: ‘

“ Now, Kent Cameron, either you or I take a
life-jump from this dizzy hight."

As he spoke, he unslung his rifle, and drawing
back to the edge of the precipice, calmly awaite

his time.

 

CHAPTER XXII.
A STRANGE DUEL.

DISMOUNTING from his horse, Bison Bill level-
ed his rifle, and waited until the unsuspecting
Kent Cameron came opposite to him, or rather
reached a point where a few steps more would
give him a position from which he could see him.
and his horse, ‘

Then he called out suddenly, and in a tone
that distinctly reached the ears of the man he
addressed:

“ Kent Cameron, you are at my mercy.”

The gripe on the rein brought the horse to a
sudden halt, and with pallid face and a hand on
his revolver, Kent Cameron awaited, for he saw
the muzzle of the rifle pointing around the bend '
in the rocky path upon the other side.

“ Well, who are you?” he asked, as quietly as
he could.

“I am one who has turned the tables upon
you, Kent Cameron, for I hold you in my
power.” ‘

“ Yes, with the aid of a girl, for I know now >
who you are, Bison Bill.” '

" I admit it; a girl saved my life; but I have
followed you, and us I know that you have
:worn, to take my life, I shall end the suspense

ere.

“ Would you kill me in cold blood?”

(I No 31

“ You will give me a chancce to meet you at '
an‘other’time?’ ‘

“ What then?”

“You must meet me now.”

“ How can I?" i n

“ ’I will tell you; you shall fight a duel with
me.

“ It is 9. Ion way around to the path to where
you are, but will come.”

“ You will not.”

“ I  I will.”

“ What then?”

“ I will meet you where you are.”

“ Oh! you will come here." ”

“ No indeed, for I know you, Kent Cameron)! . ,V

“ What would you do?" ‘ - . u '

“Meet you across the can on.”

“ Bah!" said the other, wi h a sneer.

“ It is but twenty paces.”

“ Well?”

“ You are a crack shot.” '

“ But I have no rifle." .

“ Your pistol will do; mine will reach ifyours '
does not.” ' 7

“ It will be nothing less than murder.”

“ You should not wince at that, for youare ‘ i

but an assassin.” ~

.“Curse you, Bison Bill, I will meet you; ay, ‘ ‘i

with a knife.”

“No, our knives will not reach acres; be- 

sides, I will not trust you out of sight.
“Dismount, sir.” »
Silently the man obeyed.
“ Now step away from your horse 1”
Again be obeyed.
“ Place your pistol at our feet!” ‘
“ What in the name 0 Satan do you mean!”
ll  I”
6L I  “op,”

 

 

_ 24 V Bison Bill, the Overland Prince.

“ Then I shall put a rifle-bullet in you.”

“ H_oldi there is my pistol,” and bending over,

e laid the revolver at his feet.

“ Now, Kent Cameron, I could shoot; you as
you stand, for there is no one near to accuse me
of murder.

, “ But I spare you, and give you a chance for
life, though I know you have tracked me to kill
gum, and only to-day would have killed me,

had nyou not been prevented by that noble

gir .

“ Curse you! act, and don’t talk.”

“ Ali! I intend to act."

“Well, what is your intention?”

“ To fight a duel With you."

H  I”

“A fair one.”

“Yes; very fair.”

“I mean it."

“ Yes; with a rifle against a revolver."
“ No; revolver against revolver.”
“You concealing yourself behind that point
of rocks."

“ No: I am no coward."

“ W'hat else are you i”

“ You shall see.”

As Bison Bill spoke he stepped out from the
" shelter of the rocks.

Seeing this, Kent Cameron stooped quickly
for his pistol.

“ Hold! touch it and you die!”
~ He hesitated, still bending over, and his hand
" 'upon the weapon.

i l": Raise up, but leave that weapon where it

3

With a muttered oath the man obeyed.

What else could he do?

“ Now, sir, I will tell you my plan.”

’ “ I am listening, curse on!"

V “"1 shall lay~ my rifle asnle as I pick my pistol

   

“ Well?”
“We will both stand erect, and I will give
the wow .” .
’ “' What word?“
“ Sim 1y the word, New!”
“ Wei 1* , V
. . “At that word, both will steep for their re-
' volvers and begin firing.”
‘ “ You will not use your revolver.”
, “I will; for if I cared to use my rifle, I could
/ do so new."
' “ You will not not fairly.”
“ Dhon’t judge me by yourself, Kent Cam-

eron.
“Well, I am ready.”
“ I am not.”
“ Why this delay?”
“ I Wish you to stand as I do, upon the very
edge of the precipice.”
Wh i"

“ It will save burying the dead.”

_ , " And item) is wounded he will topple over

, and be dashed to pieces on the rocks two hun-
-. dred feet below."

' > > “ So be it, for this is a fight to the death, Kent
Cameron."

_ “f Have your way, for I am in your power.”

i ' z“ I was in yours this afternoon, and would

-, we received not one atom of mercy had you

had your, way.” ..

I

 

“Nor shall you new, if I have the power to
kill you, for I ave not forgotten that you dis-
honored me.”

“ You liel you dishonored yourself, and I
merely told your commandant what I knew of
you to prevent your marrying a young and in-
nocent girl.”

“ Curse you, let us end this!” shouted the in—
furiated ex-oflicer.

“ All right, sir; be on your guard—Now I”

At the word both men quickly stooped, and
dropping his rifle from his 1 'ft hand, Bison Bill
quickly seized his revolver in his left and arose.
to a standing posture an instant before his
enemy.

But so great seemed his desire for fair play
that he waited a second for Kent Cameron, and
the pistol; flashed almost together.

A muttered curse broke from the lips of Kent
Cameron at the shot, wnich showed he was hit,
while his bullet flattened it<elf against the rock,
not six inches from Bison Bill’s head.

But instantly the revolvers cracked again and
Bison Bill’s hat turned half round on his head,
as the bullet passed through it, while Kent
Cameron sunk down upon the rocks, lying upon
the very ed e of the reci )ice, and his horse,
alarmed at he shot, ga leper away. .

“ A 0105c shave for me, and death for him;
but [ must not let him remain unburied. ,

“Come, Buckskin, we will have to head this
valley and save yonder follow from the
wolves,” and picking up his rifle Buffalo Bill
mounted his horse, that had patiently awaited
him, and moved on up the narrow trail around
the mountain-side.

CHAPTER XXIII.
INTO THE DEPTHS.

 

AS Bison Bill approached the spot where he -

had seen the body of Kent Cameron lying,
when last he looked back down the glen at it,
he rubbed his eyes to see if there was not some

, mistake.

No, the body was not there.

What could it mean?

This question he asked himself over and over
again, and no answer came to it.

Arriving at the spot he sprung from his horse
and stood looking down upon the rocky path,
where there was a red stain.

“ Ah. yes, he was not killed at once, and, in a.
dying agony has gone over the preciplce. .

“ Yes, hero is blood on the edge of the rock,
and there is where his clothes rubbed it; I do
ho a he was dead before he struck the bottom.”

(glancing over fearlessly. he looked for down,
and his eyes fell upon a deep pool of water just
beneath his feet.

\“ Ah, he has fallen into that; well, it is better
than being dashed to pieces on the rocks.

“ Well, I will now look his horse up and then
return to Beehive City.”

So sa ing, Bison Bill remounted and rode on
down t me narrow shelf path.

For some distance he Went along, and then
stopped at a sudden tum.

After attentively examining the rocks for a.
while, he said aloud:

“I fear the horse has shared the fate of his
master and gone over the precipice, for it looks

 

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mun Bill. the Overland mm.

as if he was going rapidly here, and, in trying
to stop himself at this bend, was unable to do so
and down he went. ‘

“ Yes, there is a. piece of rock newly broken
off by his hoof.”

Leaning over, Bison Bill examined the depths

r below and added quickly:

“ Why, a stream washes the base of this cliff,
and into it the horse must have fallen.

“But it surely killed him, and the swift cur—
rent has carried him on down the valley.

“So be it; Kent Cameron and his horse are
both gone.”

With a sighls Bison Bill again mounted and
continued on ‘ way.

It was late at night when he rode into Bee-
hive City, and after seeing that every attention
was bestowed upon Buckskin Chief, that had
done him such good service, he wended his way
to the quarters of Spirit Dick.

His arrival was greeted with a shout of wel—
come, and a. score of calls to tables lung in his
ears; but he made his way over to where Boss
Boniface and several others sat, and took a. seat,
calling for a glass of brandy,

“ You look iaggard, Bill,” said the proprietor
of Beehive Palace.

“ I feel haggard, Bose,” he said with a smile.

“Well, What luck?”

“ If you CODSldeI' it luck to kill a man, then I
was lucky.” .

“ Oh] you got him then 3” and a number gath—
ered around.

“ Yes, he swore to take my life, because I
thwarted him in some deviltry two years ago,
and I have reason to know he was coming here
on m trail.

“ vile met in a canyon in the mountains, he on
one side and I on the other, and here is his first
bullet, as flat as a half-dollar, and hero is his
second shot in my hat.”

“ And your bullet?”

“ I shot for his heart,” was the quiet reply.

“ And found it too, [’11 warrant,” said Boss
Boniface.

Bison Bill made no reply, but dashed off the
brandy set before him, and rising, retired, with

a sim le “good-night to all."

A s ort while after, the others followed his
exam lo, for Girth the Gambler being absent, the
amb ing fever did not seemto run hi h, and
pirit Dick soon doused his light, and eehive
City went to sleep, excepting a few noisy prowl~
ers who refeiredtomake the night hideous
and sleep by day, and a. fair sample of which
nuisances can be found in every hamlet and
city in the land. '

CHAPTER XXIV.
A DEATH SHOT.

AFTER the surprise of his unexpected meeting
with Edith Ford had died away somewhat, Grit
the Gambler heaved a sigh of deep relief, and
moved out of the canyon.

Evidently he had been making a search of the
locality before. as he turned into a. trail leading
up into the mountains, and slowly pursued it
for several miles.

At last he paused and muttered:

“ Here 15 as fares I went before; dare I go

' further?”

55* 5

 

 

-25

For some moments he sat in his saddle, silent-
ly meditating, and then said abruptly: ’

“Yes, I Will go, be the consequences what ,
they may.”

Again he rode on, his horse seeming to in-
stinctively follow the trail, while his rider’s
thoughts Were far away, as he muttered almost
inaudibly: *

“ There is no place for her to have come from
but Beehive City, and there I will find her it I
seek her.

“ But not as I am will I go; oh no, my fierce
little beauty, with the revenge of an Indian
beating in your heart, when next we meet you . ’
will not know me, but I will know you.” ,

Again he rode on, for he had drawn his horse
to a halt, as if moved by his feelings, and soon
after came to a rocky canyon, leading into the
mountains. . '

Here he paused and glanced cautiously around
him, when all of a sudden there rode out of the
canyon half a dozen horsemen.

One glance was sufficient to show him that
they were Red Riders.

Another glance proved to him that he was
greatly outnumbered. , '

One course was left for him to take, and he «
took it.

Drawing his revolver and firing upon the man v .
nearest to him, he drove his spurs into his horse
and started to fly.

But when his shot took effect, bringing the ,!
steed of the Red Rider to the grou , a shot y-y,
from the enemy also brought down his steed, u
and he fell heavily, rolling half over him. .

As soon as he could extricate himself from r
his stirru s, for he was not much hurt he
sprung to is feet and confronted the man w to
go bad dismounted, and who had rushed'upon

in].

A loud cwike one of fright, broko‘from the:
lips of the Rider captain, for be it waisgami'
he started back like a man about to fly for his

life. ,

But Grit the Gambler fired, and the ‘
Rider measured his length upon the ground;

Then again did Grit the Gambler turn to 'f
as he 0 iocteda rush uponhim from the ,
Red Ri ers; but their horses had halted, 
like statues they remained inactive, apparently-
awaiting an order from their fallen chief.

And another circumstance checked the flight
of Grit the Gambler, and it came in a. cry from
the prostrate Red Rider captain.

“ Stay! you are in no danger. r

“ I swear it.” ’ V  ‘

Grit the Gambler fiaused, glanced at the'sl— > , '
lintfmounted Red iders, and then” at their" ’ ‘
c 19 . , >

Then, as though having made u his mind, I 1
and witha revolver in each han ,he walked ,2 ’
Slowly toward the man his shot had brought.

own. ‘ '

The Red captain raised himself slowly “£011,
one elbow, and the effort seemed. to 've ‘ im ,

at pain, for he groaned and gutted is teeth; ‘V
ut having gained an easier position, he said: I
save ely: ' \ . ‘ ‘

“ o_v. do you know that you have given me,
my death—wound?” ‘ - ' I
“So be it; those who dwell along the Overs;
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fie , V ‘Binon Bill. the Overland Prince.

 

laud trail will rejoice,” was the indifferent re-

p ,I.
“Ever the same; heartless and cruel you will
ever be, Allan.”
The gambler started as his name was spoken,
and asked quickly:
“ Who are you that calls me by name?”
“This mask hides who I am.”
“ Shall I remove it?”
" "fies; but I warn you the face will startle
on.
“ I”am no child to be frightened by 'a hideous

ce.

“Ha! ha! ha! boy, you are plucky, but I’ll
see you tremble when you look on me.

“ Quick! remove this mask, for your bullet in

- m side renders me too weak.”

n spite of his nerve the words of the Red
Rider impressed him, and it was with some
hesitation he stepped closer and undid the fast—
enings of the mask.

Then, slowly he removed it, and the cry that
burst from his lips could have been heard fur

. awe. .
. .“ fie! ha! ha! whatdidI tell oul boy?"
“Father! Good God! can t is indeed be
you P” groaned the oung man, gazing with

, . horror upon the face fore him.
A

Yes, I am Hugh Arleigh, your father,
7)

“Alas! I see it now; and you have come to
this, father?”

“ Why not?”

., “ A Red Rider.”

“ It is a case of like father like son: don’t preach
morality. Allan, for it does not set well on you,”
sneererl the wounded man. ~

“ zlady God! who would have believed it of

on.

“Bah! little did I believe that you, my son,
would become as vile as you have become.”

“ Circumstances made me what I am.”

"No, not circumstances, but your own evil
nature led you to the had.”

“It seems that I inherited it, when I look at

N

“ By Heaven, you did not. I was an honor-
able man until a short while ago.

“ Then, to pay your gambling debts, and to
save your neck from the gallows I spent so
much money I became cramped in business and
failed.

“ But I did not despair.

“ Oh, no! I had pluck enough to seek the
gold-fields, and go to work with pick and

.. shovel.”

“ And you dug only earth and rock, so turned
to robbing!” sneered the son.

“ You lie, sir!”

' ‘ “Ah! your wound is not mortal. I judge.”

' u‘ “ It is, and I. your father, die by the hand of

a son.”

The ambler turned deadly pale, and set his
lips, w ile his father continued:

“ I found in the mines an old boyhood friend,
and he shared with me his cabin and food.

“ One day I struck it rich, and it gave me the
gold-fever. and I went mad, I believe.

“In that condition, wild at my rich find, my
partner found me, and it crazed his brain too,

I  I “ He had worked for years in the mines, and

 

dug out only a pittance, While I had found a
fortune in a few weeks.

“ He remembered, too, that I was his sum-e4»:-
ful rival in boyhood, and be seized Inc in . :
arms, carried me out into Elk“ block. stormin
night, and hurled me into a seething torrent.

‘Instead of (lying, strancrled to death, the
cold water revived me, and cooled my rewr—
racked brain.

“ Then I made a struggle for life.

” l was a goodswimmcr, and at last I reached
the shore, but utterly exhausted.

“ Thus the following morning I was found by
a Ute chief.

“ Once in the mountains I have saved his life
from some drunken miners, and he recognized

me.
“ Carrying me to his lonely tepee, for he had
no kindred, he nursed me back to health.

“ Then I became rcvengeful, for it was long'

months before I regained my strength.

“ Seeking my false friend, I found that he
had dug large quantities of gold from my mine,
then sold it, and had gone to San Francisco.

“ I had some little gold hidden away in a
rock, and with this [ went to the city, disguised
myself, and paid a Mexican to aid me in my
deadly work.

“ But though I attacked him, and drove my
knife into his breast, he did not die, and mv
Mexican tool was killed bya young man who
came to his aid.

“ I fled from the city, and almost moneyless
and driven to desperation, I came here and
turned to robbing the Overland stages.”

“ While your false friend revels in your
wealth?” ’

“ Yes, but I have seen him since.”

“ Whore?”

“Right back yonder in my camp. I on tured
him, and though he had a fortune with im, I
let him go.”

“ Strange.”

“ No; I made him sign a pledge to marry his
daughter to my honorable son, your brother
Edwin.”

:: Ha lnthcy- were lovers then?”

0.

“ What then?”

“The maiden never spoke to Edwin, but he
saved her life, and learned to love her, and thus
I do him one favor, and he gets Burt Bernard’s
property, which was mine, and a lovely wife
too

“ Alli I see; you have provided'well for my
most virtuous of brothers.

“But what have you done for me?” and the
face of the young gambler was black with jeal-
ous rage.

“ I leave you my band of Red Riders.”

“ By the Lord! but I’ve a mind to accept my
le any.” -

“ Do 90, Allan, for your taste lies in the track
of crime and dishonor.”

“ You are com limentary, father.”

“ I am truthfu and just, my son.”

“ I believe you are right."

“ You accept your inheritance, than?”

H Yes 7)

“Then blow on this whistle one long, loud
blast of half a minute.”

a"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Bison Bill, the Overland Prince.»

   

‘ 27‘

 

Grit took the silver whistle and obeyed.

Instantly it was answered by a distant war—
whoop, and a moment after the Indian, Stinging
Snake, came to the spot in a run.

“ Chief, I have been wounded.”

“Sorry; where Red Rider foe? I kill him.”

“No, he has gone, and as I am dying, I wish
to leave you to the care of my son.”

“ This white chief‘s son?" and the Indian look—
ed fixedly at the gambler, who answered with a
sneer:

“ Yes, I have that misfortune.”

Unheeding the insulting remark, Hugh Ar-
leigh continued, in a low voice, for it was evi—
dent that he was sinking fast:

“Yes, Stinging Snake, ho is my son, and he
will be your c ief, so tell him all that you know
about the band.

“ Oh, the Indian is your lieutenant, or aide,
in preference to your white comrades: or are
they all red-skins, as I cannot tell under their
crimson masks i”

“The chief will tell you all; and tell you
where the spoils of my robberies are hidden.”

“ I am glad to know the exchequer is not

empltiy.“ ‘
t 0; you W111 have a good sum of money to
gamble aWay. . .

“Now leave me With the Indian, for I have

.done my duty toward you.’

“ As you please; good-by, and present my
com liments to my grandfather, the devil.”
VVIth a bitter laugh the young gambler turned

away, and began to take his saddle and bridle
I from his fallen steed.

When he had done so, and once more ap-
proached his father, he saw that he was dead,

He started back as he saw the sightless eyes
staring him in the face, and for the first time
remorse drove its ponlard into his soul, and the
iron entered deep. .

Back through the Vista of years he went, back
to his happy boyhood, when that father had been
all that a father could he to him, and with a groan
of anguish, wrung from his inmost heart, he
sunk down by the dead form and burst into
tears.

CHAPTER XXV.
also}: BILL, THE PRINCE or run REINS.

WHEN the stage-horses were led out for the
trip, the morning following the death of Burke
Halford, the stable-boys stood waiting and won—
daring why no driver mounted the box.

It IS true that Burke Halford and two other
of the most popular manipulators of the reins
had been killed: but there were otherstotake
their places, and these were the ones who were
wanted just then.

“ Where is Steel—Grip Charley?” called out
Boss Boniface, as the time passed for leavmg.

“ He hain’t showed up, sir,” answered a stable

V.‘

“ Well, where is Tim Luther?”

“ He’s missin’ too, Boss.”

“ And Hank Hutchinsi”

“ Don’t know. sir.”

“Well, go after those three drivers and tel‘
them I wish them to report here at once, as it

 

was their duty to do, knowing Ilalford had
been killed. I

“ Guess that’s just the reason why,” muttered
a stable—boy, as he darted away to obey the
bidding. .

In a short while the three “extras ” put in an
appearance, sullen and disagreeable.

“. Well, boys, I Wish one of you to go out with
this hearse, and it’s already half an hour behind
time,” said Boss Boniface sternly.

Not one of the three answered a word, and
the boss called out:

“ Steel-Grip you drive the trip.”

“ No, Boss Boniface, I isn’t drivin’ now.”

“ Not driving! what do you mean, sir?”

“ Waal, I wouldn't be long, as I’d get my
cheeks called in by the Riders.’

“ Ah! you are afraid to go?”

“ That’s about the size 0’ it, pard.”

“And you, Hutchins?”

“ Waal, Boss Boniface, ’tain’t my natur’ ter be
disa eeable or skeery, but I is both jist now,
fer won’t pull a ribbon,” was the calm an-
swer.

“And Tim Luther; what says he?”

“ Them ribbon-pards o’ mine are preechin’
gospil, boss.” ‘

“ You refuse too?”

“ I does for a fact,”

“ I’ll give any of you a hundred dollars to run
the stage through.”

“ Thet will jist about buy us a box fer bury-
in’,” remarked Steel-Grip.

“ Well, what sum do you want to make you
go?” pettishly asked Boniface.

“ I doesn’t want no money, fer I is oncommon
well fixed jist now.”

“And I are wealth .”

“And I are healt 1y, an’ I w’u’dn’t be ef I
cotch tber same disease our pards died 01!."

Such were the three answers, and in despair
Boss Boniface turned to the crowd:

“ Boys, the stage must go through, and I‘ll
give any driver five hundred to jump her to the
other end.”

“Thar hain’t no pilgrims goin’, pard,” said a
miner.

“ No, our list is light this morning.”

“ Yas, durned light; guesses I won’t accept."

“ What is the matter, Boss?” and just then
Bison Bill came out of the hotel breakfast-

room.

“The sta e has no driver, Cody, and no man
will go, as t ey fear the fate of Halford and the _
others.” ' I »*

“Why, I Will go, with pleasure, if you will
trust me.” ~

“ Trust you? indeed I will, and bravo for you,
my} brave boy.”

he crowd joined in the cheer for Bison Bill’s
pluck. but man shook their heads dubiously. -

With a smiling face Bison Bill drew on his
gloves, mounted to the box, seized the reins, and
asked: '

“ Passengers all aboard?”

“ None goin .”

“ All read ?’

“Yes: an an hour late in starting.”

“ I’ll make up the time with an empty
hearse."

“ Let ’em go.”

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as . Bison am, the Overland Prince.

The stable—boys sprung away from the hits
the whip cracked and the lash descended, and
away went the coach on its outward run.

For a longr time after the departure of the
stage, the crowd stood around the hotel in earn-
est conversation, and then they were startled
by a loud cry from one of the drivers, who had
sauntered off to the point of the mountain,
where a grand view of the valley could be seen,
in all its rugged grandeur.

“ Comel come. pards, an’ see a sight as is
suthin’,” yelled Steel-Grip, almost beside him-
self with excitement, and in one mass the whole
crowd rushed toward the point of the hill, which
was several hundred yards in front of the Bee—
hive Palace Hotel.

As they gained the oint all eyes were turned
in the direction that teel—Grip pointed, and a
c burst from every lip.

‘ It is Bison Bill!’ cried Boss Boniface.

“ Ther coach fer a fact!” yelled another.

“ And ther Red Riders,” shouted a third.

“ Groinor down Breakn 30k Mountain he cer—

tainly is?” responded Boss Boniface.

it was no wonder that the crowd gave
vent to amazed and excited cries at what they
saw, for far away down the valley, descending
a mountain-side that had not been believed to
be assable for other than mountain sheep, was
via ble the stage and its six horses.

Ad! on the box sat Bison Bill, slowly but
surely guidin the team down the fearful steep,
while halted ack on the mountain. seemingly
not daring to follow, was a group of Red Riders.

“ He saw the Riders in the canyon. and turned
shar off to the loft and struck down the moun—

tain ’ said Boss Boniface admirinzly.

“ bet are so, pard, an’ be hes over a mile -0’
road I didn’t think thor devil’s chariot could go
down,” put in Not Spencer.

‘ “It is a road, or rather hillside, I would not
attempt to ride a horse up, let alone down,” re-

‘ marked a miner,

“And ther Red Riders hes backed, fer they
hain‘t cliinhin’ down,” added another.

“No. but Bison Bill is nearly down and will
make it; then he has level valley back tothe
Overland trail, and if he makes it, will do what
no other man dare do,” responded Boss Boni—

ace.

“ See how the coach sways and tips; there.
one of his horses is down; no, he has recovered
him,” cried Edith Ford, who had just arrived,
and old a field-glass to her eye.

“ or is just ther leetle gal ter wish yer was
in thet coach as a pilgrim,” said Nat Spencer,
politely and admiriugly.

“No, not in the stage, but on the box with
that splendidly daring man; but see, he is
nearly down; there! he has reached the valley
--bravo!”

But the voice of Edith Ford was drowned in
the wild, mad, ringing hurrahs that burst from
the excited crowd.

And, as the coach was seen to dash away
down the valley, Edith cried out:

“There is the Red Rider captain waving his

'hat in admiration of the Prince of the Reins.”

-“Bravo for the name. Miss Ford‘ three
cheers for Bison Bill, the Prince of the Reins,”

shouted Boss Boniface, halt beside himself with

I

admiration of the daring driver, and then, as
the hoarse cheer died away, he called out:

“ Now We’ll drink to the Prince of Lhc lhins;
come 1”

They went witha rush, and once in Spirit
Dick’s haunt they shouted themselves hoarse,
and drank themselx es drunk in honor of the
Prince of the Reins.

CHAPTER XXVI.
THE RED RIDER’S SECRET.

IT was with the utmost excitement that the
denizens of Beehive City awaited the return of
the coach, which Bison Bill, the newly-baptized
Prince of the Reins, had volunteered to run
through.

But had they seen that very daring and hand-
some young man seated upon the box, his reins
well In hand over a fresh and exceedlngly wild
team, smoking a cigar, his very coolness would
have allayed their excitement.

He knew that in suddenly wheeling from
Dead Man’s Canyon, and oing down Break-
neck Mountain, with a coac and six horses, he
had accom lished a feet that might not be done
again in a ifetime of trials.

Had he really known how fearful was the
mountain to descend, he would rather have
risked the Red Riders; but, once having started,
he would not turn back for it was his nature to
keep on to the bitter end, did he once undertake
anything:

But once down in the valley, be snapped his
fingers at the Red Riders, and held on to the
next station at a rapid rate of speed that
brought him in nearly on time.

All he asked on the return trip was to select
his own horses, and he got six that were as thor-
ough devils as any Indian ever cared to own.

When he found that there were “ no pilgrims
going this trip," he seemed rather pleased, and
set off at race-horse speed, to the delight of all
who saw him depart.

As he drew near Dead Man’s Can on, he throw
away his cigar, laid a cocked revo ver upon the
box upon either side of him, and gathered his
reins well in hand.

Entering the canyon he heard a shrill whistle,
but kept on. and soon knew that there were
horsemen behind him.

A glance over his shoulder showed that there
were five. ,

Then ahead he saw a line of Rerl Riders,
seven in number, sitting bolt-upright upon their
horses, and barring his further passage.

But he did not stop, but held on at a swift
gait, until suddenly out of the timber on the
right of the canyon rode a single horseman, and
he sung out in distinct tones:

“Halt! or you die 1”

But Bison Bill did not halt, nor did he die.

On the contrary, he threw forward his right
hand with the quickness of the lightniug’s flash,

 

“and down dropped the Red Rider‘s horse at the

crack of the weapon, pinning the horseman
under him.

And then. as the stage-horses bounded for-
ward in wild fright, rapidly rattled forth the
revolver—shots, and every one brou ht down a
Red Rider’s horse, and over men an steeds wen

 

the flying team and the heavy wheelS.

 

 

 

l
l
l
g .
I
y
4

 

4|- :  1, 

k.

-" «our» «and .g'; '

 

 

. . “A. . .__.__,

 

Bison Bill. the Overhaul Prince.

29

 

For an instant the canyon was the scene of a
wild death-revel, and then the coach swept on at
the full speed of its horses. and Bison Bill either
knew it was useless to attempt to check them, or
cared not to do so.

A hot, mad run, and at last he drew them up
at the door of the Beehive Palace, and his ears
were deafened by the cheers for the Prince of
the Reins.

But, unheeding these, he called upon the
crowd to mount their horses and follow him,
and ten minutes after a motley cavalcade went
sweeping down toward Dead Man’s Canyon,
and at their head rode Bison, Edith Ford, and
Boss Boniface.

It was a long, hard ride, but at last the
drew near the canyon. Many wished to ha t
for consultation. for they expected an attack
upon the Red Riders" but Bison Bill held fear
lessly on until just before them were visible
balk a dozen horses and forms lying on the road-
si e.
Then be halted, and said, in his clear tones:

“Men, I was sent here as a detective of the
Overland company. to hunt down the Red
Riders, and I have done it.

“ On my trip out I noticed. as I had before,

‘ one great‘ peculiarity, and that was that the
chief only spoke and moved.

“ There, the secret is solved!”

He pointed to the dead forms, and riding for-
ward, all uttered a shout, for the supposed men
were only dummies!

'Upon each horse had been mounted a Well-
stul‘red suit of clothes, and, securely tied in the
saddle and masked, they looked exactly like
men, and the thoroughly-trained horses had
carried them through every maneuver the whis-
tle of their chief directed.

“ But, where is their chief?" cried Edith
, Ford.

“ There lies his horse, but he has gone, it
seems,” answered Bison Bill.

“ Gone he may be, but he shall not escape me,
for I will still follow his trail," said the maiden,
with deep emotion. and she turned her horse
back toward Beehive City. while the others

' went in search of the Red Rider’s camp.

But when they found it, they discovered only
.other evidences of the skillful cheat practiced
upon them by the Red Rider captain, of whom
the denizens of Beehive City never again heard,
and came to look upon him as having been
'Wounded by Bison Bill and crawled of! to some
Secluded spot to die alone.

CONCLUSION.

Tim day after her return to Beehive City,
after the solving of the Red Rider’s secret in
Dead Man’s Canyon, Edith Ford, casting aside
. the love of Boss Boniface, left the little mining
village for parts unknown: but, taking an
author’s right, I will say that she kept her oath,
and followed the trail of Grit the Gambler to
the bitter end.

As to Bison Bill, those who kn0w the famous
Buffalo Bill of to—duv will recognize in him the
daring Prince of the Reins.

Bess Boniface still keeps a hotel in the far
West. and yet remains a. bachelor. for he has
never recovered from his'love tor Edith Ford.

 

 

Burt Bernard, the false friend, he t his
pledge made to Hugh Arleigh, the man e had
wronged and willed his daughter and his for-
tune to Captain Edwin Arleigh; but neither of
the two young people knew the terrible secret
of their strange betrothal, for upon hisdeath-
bed the millionaire, who believed himself a
murderer, never revealed the dark pages of his
past life.

FINIS.

 

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STANDARD DIME PUBLICATIONS

Speakers.

Each volume contains 100 large pages. printed
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‘The Dime Sneakers embrace twenty~four volumes
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3. Patriotic Speaker. 17. Eloquent L .caker.

4. Comic Speaker. 18. Hail Colum in Speak-
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6. Humorous Speaker. 19. SeriO‘Comic Speaker.
7. Standard Speaker. 20. Selects eaker. '
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10. Spread-Eagle Speaker 23. Dialect Speaker.

11. Dime Debater. 24. Recitationsand Read»
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These books are replete with choice pieces for the
School-room. the Exhibition. for Homes. etc. 75 to
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Dialogues.

The Dime Dialogues. each volume 100 pages, em.
brace thirty-two books, vlz.: '

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Dialogues No. Three. Dialogues N0. Twenty. -
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Dialogues No. Five. Dialogues No. Twenty-two.
Dialogues No. Six. Dialogues No. Twenty-lhrer.
Dialogues No. Seven. Dialogues No. Twenty-f our.
Dialogues No. Eight. Dialogues No. Twenty-five.
Dialogues No. Nine. Dialogues No. Twentysix.
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’ Am) Anus, Publishers. 98 William at, N. Y.

‘ I

 

 

. .. ...,.;..

 

 

 

 

 

   
     

D EVER

80 Kentugy Ben, the Long Rifle of tho Cnsamlel. Iiy
Roger urhuck.

81 The Kit Carson Club. By T. C. Harbnugh.

82 thtle Huck thu Boy Guide. By Barry Ringgnld,

88 Pony Bob the Beckie” Rider oi the Rockies. 15y Col.
I’mntiu liiFrfllliUll.

84 Captain 1 iy»li -Night. By Joinepli E. Bridger. Jr.

85 curtain Rqu , the Young Explornr. By G. Dunning:

nr .

86 Little Dan Rocks. By Morril Reiiwing.

8’? The Menu erie Hunter-ii. iiy MA]. ii. Grenville.

88 The Bo ramps; or, Lire Alumig iie Gipaleu. liy
J. M. F ofl'ninii.

89 ’Lonrrsltore Lilo. By C. D. Clnrir.

90 Raving R1fle,L.‘ustar’n LittleScout. By T. C. Harlinngh.

91 Oregon Josh, the Wiznrni Riiin. By Roger stnrhuck.

92 Hurricane Kit. By A. F. Holt.

93 Jumnlng Juke, the Colorado Circus Boy. By lirynnt
Buinbridge.

04 Run- Spence, the Bromllmrn Boy. By Ed. ‘l'llltfiit.

95 Moscow to Slberlu; or, A Yankee Boy to 1h.- Rescue.
lly Charles Morris.

96 Fightith Frail; or, The Cnatnwnys of Grizzly Camp.

y 'l‘. C. nrbuii ii.

9? Cruise 01’ the l iyuwny; or, Yankee Boys in Coyinn.
By C. Dunning Ciiirk.

98 The Boy Vigilanmaz or, King Cole nnd His Ilnud.

' By . .‘. ii. ii. swam.

99 The lite Tigers; or, Silver Rifle, the Girl Trucker
ofLiike Superior. By Capt. Ciinrlul Hnwnni.

100 The Snow-Shoo Trail; or,’l‘ha Forest Desperadoes.
liiy St. George ltnthhone.

101 ariuno, the Ottawn Girl; or, The Mysterioun Cnnoe.
ll" Edward 8. Ellis.

102 The Flfiawu Aflnnu or, Yankee Boy: ’Rmimi the
\Vorld. y C. mining Clnrk.

108 Pat: Mullouey’n Adventures; or, Silver Tongue
the Dncntitli Queen. By C. L. Edwnrrla.

104 The Boy Prmpeetor; or. The Sunni. oi tho Sierra
Ravine. y Roger Stiirbnck.

105 Minonee, the Wood Witch; or, This Squntter’r Sen-ct.
B Edwin Emerson. .

108 T re llo Cruisers; or, Joe and an’n Big Find. By
Edward illett.

107 The Border Rove": nr,Lnat on the OVBrlnnd
’l'rxtll. By J. Milton l’lnil'llmfl.

108 Alnnka, the Woi€»Qumsn; hr, The Girty Brothers;
Double Crime. lly Clint. Howard Lirmnlll.

109 ghfiilliwinn Jim, the White Man’s Friend. By Edivnrd

a

110 l‘lucky June, the Bay Avenger; or, Dick Belnmnt’s
Last Ride. By .1. Miltnn l‘lnffll’lliii.

111 The “order Giuunnker; or, The Iiunteri Mnidcn.
liy Jmnun L. liowun.‘

11% Left-“untied Pete, the Double—Knife. By Juseph
E. iiiidgar, Jr.

113 The River Rifles; or, The Fate of the Flathout. By
Capt. J. F. 1‘ Aduim.

114 Alone on the I’iu’lnn. By Edward Willett.

115 Silver Horn, Lind ma Rita Fircdvnlh. By Roger
Siarhuck.

116 Ex loita ofliezelduh Smith, the Backwoodumm.
liv ‘mersnn Rounmn.

117 The Youn Mnntnnacrs: or, Dick Merry'l Rnng
era. By C. uiining Clnrk.

118 Old Tra g; or, the Boy liivnis. By Barry Rincynlii.

11” Center hot. tha \‘Vliitw. CrowY or, Roving Riile’ii
Firnt Cnni nlzn. By T. C. iinrlmugh.

120 A “at rail; or, Clnrk Cleverly/imam: the Turtan
1:}! Clinrlal Martin

121 ] unter Para Ben; or,Tlie Walmsh’a Blind Land.
By Mr Sturiinck.

125 The Enquimnux’ Queen: or, The Mystery of the
Lona Hut. By G. Waldo Browne.

133 Tim. the Boy Acrobat; or, Life in the Circus Ring By
Charla Morrll.

'134 gueen Bessie, the Border Girl. By Henry J. ThmnM.
155

om Tabor, the Boy Fuuitiva; nr,Tliu Young Lynch.
Gun “,Wolven.” By Barry Ringgoivi.
193 Min Cont, the Dvnth-Shol; or. The Spring of the
Tlfier. By Jon. E. Badger Jr.
1!? T e Dger Hunters. by John J. Mnrlhnil.
139 Wolf. a ; or The Night-Hawks“ the Fire-Lands.
. By Capt. til. award.

 
 

4 .
Pr
Y ~si’s'Y'OYV9

129 Silver-gm"; Dr, The Mountain Heroine. By hidwnrd
Willett.

130 Keetfien Qur en oi the Phillis. liy Percv B. St. J
_131 \‘Vintull,’tim Child Spy. By Georguaihiinn. Ohm
132 The Inland Trapper; Ui‘,Tliu Young White-Buffalo
Hunters. By Chiiriua iiownwi.
188 The Form“; Specter; or, The Yuuiig Hunter’s Foe.
184  lCriw\ni-il Willeli.
lid i~ at, tliu 'I‘ronpcr. By Wm. R. E 'at W.

135 The Silve’r Bugle; or, The Iildlltli illuiileii of St
U Vininin 15y 1.;eiit. Unhi‘luzeltun. ‘

1 6 ‘ ic ’rnir e Trapper. By C. Dnnnin Ci lr
13? The Antelope Boy. llyfleo. L. Alkellg. M ’
133 Long Shot; nr,’I‘he mequide. By Cnpt.Cmnrmk.

139 Colonel Crucl‘ctt, the Bear King. ByClinrlex E.

4H3“ 0.

140 Old Pom-i, the Mountaineer. By Lewin “I Carson.

1-11 The Giant limiter. lly Hurry animl.

1v1211§lilick JPanther, tin: Unit-Blond. By Joseph E.
ingur, r.

148 Curl-urn, theGniiié; or,l’uriis oftiie anticr. By Lient
J. H. Runiiolpli.

144. Kent the Hunger. By Edward S. Ellia.

145 mu iii-1.1.1.“, Hum... Iiy Eilwmd “‘illett.

146 The Half-Breed. lilvul; or. The, Tangled Trail.
13:. JM.  Bridger, Jr.

147 The Mnnkml Avenger. By Fol. Prentisn Iiizrniiam.

148 Nut, ilie TIRHW!‘ mid Indian Fighter. By Paul J.

l’l'i’ficl‘ll.

149 The Elk llumnn; or, The Giant Bruthers. By T.
(2. Hni'liiiiigli.

150 The, iiny Muktnng-liunter; or. Eiiulnlia, the
licnutifiil Amazon. lly Irrwirrli-k Whittaker.

151 Frnnk "if-stein, the Ymuii: Trnppcr; or, Mountain
Kate’s Warning. By Jnnvpli E. Bridger, Jr.

152 “'ild Raven, tiin Sunni. liy Oil L'oom‘es. r

153 Lynx Clip ; or, Four Trnppens’ Among the Sioux. 13
Paul) ilibbs.

154 The Champion Texan Rider; or, Red Buti'nia,
fliiil tin! ilvrrulus Hunt”. ily Hurry St. George. L

155’; liruky llick‘n Doom. lily Jim}: Badger, Jr.

156 Fruuk Bell, the Boy Spy. ty Oil Cnonwn. t

‘15? Nick Doyle. thn Gnid iinntwr. By F. ii. Myers.

158 Kidnapped Dir-k: or, The Fun; 0! the Fire Fly. By
'. Stnriiivy andemn.

159 film’er Loni; Trail; ar,The Twin Scouts. By W. J.
' niiii trin.

100 "rink Triplet’a Vow. Bylflarry Hazard.

] (ii The Mad Skinner. By R. htnrimck.

102 The Ti-opriv'r King. By Mu}. Max Mnrtlne.

1"}! Simon Kentmi. Hunter. By Emerson Rmimnri.

164 The Buy Chief; or, Frimk Bull’s Compact. By Oil
Common.

165 The Trader Trnlmr. By J. Stanley Hendarm.

166 011i June’s (flew. By Mrs. Orrin Muriel

1W? The Young Ti-uiler. Bv W. J. iinmilton.

1am The Spook-r Spy. lly Mei). Lcwm W. Canon.

169 Lunk Lute, the Old Culprith Hunter. By E. W.
Arc 2r.

no Ti... “'hite wow. By Edward Willy-it.

171 The Swamp Guiflc. By W. N. McNeil.

1 ’I2 The Yankee l’ctldie . By C. Dunning Clark.
Emily .iuiy iii).

173 The fluent and lllfl Young Chum. By Warren
St. John. Ruiidy August 6.

17’4 Bim-knmith Tour’s Min-iii. By Geo. D. Gilbert.
lieiidy August 13.

1’?5 The Blur-knkin Rider. By Guy Greenwood.
Randy August 20.

176 The Squntter’n Surprise. By Mn. Henry J.
Tlioiiiiis. Runny Augmt ‘21.

177 Four Fellow Scouts. By J. Stanley Hendeflon.
Ruudy September 3.

Bendie’s Boy’s Library is ior sale by all Newaduakn,
fivn cents yer copy, or sent by innii on racoipt of aix cent: email.

manna-z AND ADAMS, gunmen,
98 “’illium Street, New York.

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

,‘—

v; /32 0euro mans. /9EADLE,SML
POCKET LIBRARY.

.“VlhfihV30:MMWWU)“:WmfihhhhwhwhmwfahWW“WMMQ@WQW%M@Q“

 

 

 

1 Deadwood lllck, the Prinne of the Road. By 51 Patenbleather Jnetvor, Old Bettina-lie, the

Edward L. Wheeler. Clmrmer. By Philip S. “ nrne.
B Knnnzva King; or, The Red Right Hind. By 52 The Border Robin Hood; or.The Prnirlo Rover.
Buffalo Bill. [5 ' Butl'nlo Bill.
8 The Flying Yankee: or, The Ocean Outcut. By 58 Gold Rifle, the sharpshooter; or, The Boy Deugun
Col. Prentiss inurnhmn. of the Black Hills. By Edwnrd L. Wheeler.
4 The llouble Dnzgers. By Edward L. Wheeler. 54 Old Zip’n Culling or, A Greenhorn in the Woode.
5 The Two lk-tectivev or. The Fortunes of a ll Capt. J. F. C, Admun.
Bowery Girl. Bv Albert ’. Aiken. 55 De aware Die , thn Yuan; Ranger Spy. By Oil
6 The l’rnirle Pilot; or, The l’hnntom Spy. By Cuomel.
linfinlollill. 56 Mad Tom “’cstern, the '1'.an Ranger. By W.
T The llufl'ulo Demon; or, The Border Vulturu. J. llmnilum.
By Edward L. \VhEeler. 57 Deadwood Die]; on Deck: or Cnilmity Jme.
8 Antelo e Abe, the Boy Guide. By Oll Coomel. the lirrome nf Whoop-U u. By E.  Wheeler.
9 Ned ville. the Boy Scout. By “Tenn Inch" 58 llnwkeya llarry, the ‘Younx Tflppel' Ranger. By
(J. B. Omnhumiro]. I Oil ('omuel. ‘
10 Bnfl’nlo lien, Prince of the Final. By E. L.Wheeler. 59 The Boy; Duelist; or, The Crulee of the Sen Wolf.
‘11 Ralph Roy. the llw Buccaneer. By 041. Ingrnhnm. By Col. rentiaa lngruhnm.
12 Nick 0‘ the Night; or, The Boy Spy oi "16. By T. (20 Abe Colt, the Crndeler. Br Alberl W. Aiken.
U. Hnrbmuzh. bl Corduroy Chm-lie, the Boy Bravo. By Edwnrd L.
13 Yellowstone Jack; «vr. Tripper! of the Ench-nte Wheeler.
Gmund. li_\' Joseph E: iimluor, Jr. ' 62 “’ ill Some“. the Boy Detective. B) Chen. Morris.
14 “’ild lvnn, Line Buy Clnmlu Duml. By E. L.Whaeler. 63 Sol Ginger, tlw Giunt'l‘rnpver. By A. W. Aiken.
15 lllnmmul Dirk ; or, The Mystery of the Yellow- 64 Rosebud Rob; or. Nu]: at Nod, the Knight of the

«tune. Bv (:..|..nul Prenin lugrnhnm. Gulch. By Enlwnrd L. Wheeler.
1-, l'rinl‘t‘ --l' the l'l’RlllEl. By 011 Coomen. 65 Lightning Joe, the Tcrmr o! the Prairit. By Cep-
; or, Nick whim-1’- Boy Spy. By Capt. min J. I". C. Admnl.

   
 

. .0, Adams 66 Kit llarei’oot, the Wood-Hawk. By T. C. 2hr
Death-Fnce. the Detective. By E. L. Wheeler. haugh.
19 Lasso Jack, the Yuunu Mmtnngnr. B 011 Common. 67 Rollo, the Bo ' Ranger; or, The Helreu of the Golden
£0 Roaring lhulph liockwood. i. e Rocklul Horn. By 0] Cnomel.
Ranger. ‘B\ limry St. George. 68 It] i, the Girl Miner; or, Rolehud Rob on Hand. By
2i The Boy Chrer 0?, The Queen of the Arenn. By E ward L. Wheeler.
{Mk 5- ' I r 69 Detective Dick; or.’l‘he Heroin Ragn. By chm-1..
l’hm om Miner; or. Dendwood Dick’l Morris.
Edwnrd L. l} Imoler. “(0 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Riflem-n. By 0110mm“.
(‘ t; or, The W Itch of Dnrlen. By Clpt. 71 Shnr’p Sum; or, The Adventure. oiaFriendleu Bay.
‘~, ' 'it kcr. lly . Alexmudvr Pntlen.
The Dumb Spy. Hy Oll Carmel. 73 The Lion «(the Ben: Or. The Veiled may of Sun
25 Ratllinn: Rube; or, The Night. Hnwh of Ken— Troy”. By Albert Vl'. Aiken.
WC‘W— “5' “my 5L Gm'ltfi~ 73 Photograph l’hiIJheBmSlenth; or, Rowland Rolf:
2“ 01d Avalanche, the Great Annihilntor. By Ed. L. Renppenrunce By E. L. “'heulcr.
- 'hee er. '24 l’lonyune Pore; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective.
27 Gln s-Eye, the Great Shot of the West. By Capt. J. Ilv Charles Morr -.
F. C: A‘l'UIIB- 75 Inland Jim; or. The Pet ofthe aniiy. 3y Blur

28 The Boy Captain; or, The Plrlte’l Dwghter. By hridge Hemyug (Jm'k Hnrhewny).
Rn er Starhnck. 76 “latch-Eye, lht‘ Shndnw: or; Arub- Ind Angel: of I
Die Dru-ling. the Pony Exnreu Rider. By Captain Great City. I! ' Edward L. ‘1‘ heeler.
lrederick \Vhittnhor. ’3"! Dick Den ye. the Boy Smuggler. By Col. 1’
30 Bob “'oolf, the Bnrder Rufllnn. By E. 1.. Wheeler. lngrnhnnu.
81 Nightingale Nut; 0!. The! Forest Curl-inn. .By 78 Dcndwond Dick’e Device: or. The Sign of the
.C. Hurbmmh Douhle ('rou. iiy Ed. L. Wheeler. ’
82 Black Jnhll. the R'Wl Agent. BV 5- 15- Endymlr. 79 The Bank Min-ranger; or. The Wild Horn
83 Omaha 01!. the Mask d’l'errnr.  E. L. \ heel". Hunlore. lly (‘an Mayne id.
Burt. “linker, the ’l‘rnp or. By :enrge E. Lunlle. 50 (“(1 Frost , lhe Guide; onMoh-nn. the Whitean
35 The Bay Rifles; or, T m Underground Camp. By oftiu- lllnc met. By T. C. Hurhnugh.
A. C. lrom. 81 The Sen Viper; or. The Midehlpmen’l Lopcy. By
86 The \Vhite )3 Halo. A Tale ofStrsnze Adron- Cnl. Premise Ingrnhnrn.
turel in the Norrhweu. By Geurge lt‘. Laenlle. 82 Seth Jones; or, The Cnptlru a! the Frontier. By
87 Jim Blndboe, Jr., the Boy Phanix. By Edward L. Edward S. l‘lllil.
Wheeler. 88 Can-Ila Chet, the Counterfeit" Chief. By Law-m
38 Ned "a:el,the Boy Trapper. By Cnth. EC. Adams. L. Wheeler.
Dcmllv Eye. the Unknown Scout. lly lluilaln Bill. 84 The Dumb Pn o: or.Tbe Dog-‘1 Dnughur. By
40 Nick \Vhliflee'u Pet; or, [n the anley at Death. Capt. Frederick lnuuku.
“Y Cflllh J. l". C. Adam: 85 The Boy Miners; or, The Enchanted Illlnd. By
4 Deadwood Dick’s Eagle-g or, The Perd- of Edward S. Ellie.
Flood liar. By Edward L. Wheeler. 8. Jack linrklwny in New York, By BM.

&
c

a:
,3.

u
g.

u

42 The Border king; or, The Secret Foe. By 01] brldse Hemyng.
Chnxuce. 87 The [near Capt-in: or, The Hermit at Hall
43 Old Hickory; or. Pendy Elli-’1 Scalp. By Hurry Gate. By Col. Prentiu lngrnhum.

88 Deadwood Dick in Lendvilleévot, A Bump
Stroke for lexeri '. By Edwnrd L. holler.

89 Bill Ridden rapper; or, Lilo in the Norihweli.
liy Edwlrrl S. Elli-

St. Gvorge.
44 The “Write Indian; or, The Seoul- ol‘ the ‘Y-llow-
ntnne. By Cur-l. . C. Adams.
45 Buckhorn Bill: or, The Red Rifle Team. By .
Edward 11- w“le 90 Ti p), the Texan. or,Tne Young Chunpivn. by
46 The Shadow Ship; or, The Riv-l Lieutenant. barge Glemn.
' Col. Prentin Inmaham. lulled Eve” “,ednm.,.

3)
‘ h I d The T l
4? liltingffdnvatx.331.333 0" n " Beadle’l Pocket Library in {or ul- by Q" Km

48 "gngycllfiekbjn or The Outlaw ol the Oregon Tnil} duh,” a" an“ F" why; or um by m.” an m1” at “x

. u l' H e

49 lllllrricane.Blllg; or, Mart-n; Sam Ind Hi.“ Pam," untl Itch.
B

land ,1. nmnnanun Pawns:
y Jbuginnd: 5::A'w. {or n Lilo. By W. J.  -’

50 5325.15»... r to ‘wunm Street, x" York.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

/ 32 OCTAVO PAGES.

afiADLng
POCKET LIB

ARY.

 

 

 

91 Multan: Sam, the Kingoflhe Plains. By Jug. E.
Badger. Jr.

92 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red l‘irntes of
the Clrlbbaal. My Smnuul 1N. l'vnnte.

98 Phil llnrdy the Hun! Buy. liy ('han

94 Deadwood lllck nu Deter-(Ht. liy .

95 Buck Buokrum; or, Jim. tlw For t 'l'rnpper.

l?‘ Cnphlin J. l“. (7. Adlllls.

96 G] t-Erlged Dick, n». Sport Dutmttivc. liy E. L.

9‘! er.
9? The Black Steed of the l‘rulrlcu. By Jnme-
- Will.

98 The Sun erpcut; or. The Buy Robinson Crusoe.
By Juan Luwln. .

99 Bonanza mu, the Mun 'l'rm'krr. By E. 1.. “'hcelur.

100 NM. 'l‘mhl‘ or, The Fun: of the Siuux (antive. lly
Edward 5. Elli...

101 Durlug Davy; the Young llunr Killer. By llnrry
St. Geurgu.

108 The Yellow (7111(le lly (‘upL ltluyne Reid.

' ' By I'Inllvlml L. Whaler.

oncr. By Roger Surrlmck.

tlm lloolhlnck Dehctlve.

e I
105 "mull-onus Hurry,
Charles Zilurriu.
103 nght-lluwk Klt: Or, the Daughter of the Ranch.
lly 05. E. Badge-r. Jr.
107 Juck lloyle’n Lendl or, The Young Spec“ ntur,
lly Edward L. \Vheuler.
108 Rock )lnuntnln Kit. vafl‘. C. llnrlmugh.
109 The rundud “and; ur, l‘no Mun of Mystery.
ll ' Frank Dun-nut.
110 '1‘ re Ilruml Rider; or, The Tnxnn Duelist.
Gnorge \‘v'. limwnc.
111 11mm Boll. tim Klugnl‘lloothlnrku. By E. L.\vVhee'er.
"B The llelpleun lluml. lly (Inpl. Mnyno Raid.
118 Sour-Fm“: Sun] thvfillentllunh-r. llynllCnmm..
114 l’luey Paul. the Mountain llnv- or. The Lime
Arrow of the Allimndnckn. My 1'. . llurbnngh.
115 Deadwood lllek’n Double. ll E. L. \‘Vht-aler.
116 anfil Culnn. Ski pnr; nr, Lost in l. m I’ulnr Regionx.
ant. F. Whittn nr.
l‘rnnk, of Culurnrln. By Hon. \‘i'. F. Cody.
llill.”
113 ‘1' 111 1Vlldllrl-, the'l‘hnmnghhrcxl. By Chas. Morris.
119 Inomle In": or, Demlwoml Dirk'n Home linsu.
Ry Edwnrd ll. \ 'hv-eler.
no Gopher um, thulmy’l'rnp or. n.- T. (a llnrhnngh.
I’ll llarry Armutrong, um ,‘npmin urllle Club. By
. lercebvhlgo Hrmvng,( (1k “ML-away.)
123 The Hunted llv Ilwnrll S Ellis.
128 Solld Sum, Ihu liov R .l-
1124 Judge Lynch. In: nr.
1‘. C. Hnrhnuuh.
195 The Land l’lrntes. By Capt. )lnyna erfl.
136 Blue Bluzt-n; or, The Bren). 0' Day lioyd or Rucln'
liar. BV ll‘rnnk Dunmnt.
12'? Tony Fox. n... Forret; or, line! Bob‘s Bonn Joh. lxy
Edward 1.. Whmlcr.
138 Blank lieu, Will Wildfirn'n Rncer. Bv C. Morris.
19w Eagle Kn, the [my Dunn". In- on (‘nnluum
130 Gold Trlgzcr. thu Sport. By '1‘. (r. Hllrhnnuh.
BI A Game 01’ Gold; or, Duran-and Dick‘s Big
liv Erlwnrd L. Whnulnr.
132 nmm Lam-c, n... lioy s m... ByJ.E.Bndgr-r,.lr.
lg WIId-hre. the Honolulu! llmul. By Frnnk [lulnmll
‘] .
ll)
18
18

By

By

.m. liy . .
'1‘»... llny Vigilante. 15y

Mlk Merry thellnrhnrl‘nlirn-llny. mum.
llendwuod llluk of llendwood. My l‘lludu
L. Whaler.

01d Rube. thallnntor. ByC'n
1‘ Dandy Rock, the Mun from

Browne.
138 no]! [Em-kc“, the Bar Dodger. By Cline. M: rris.
189 The Blur-k Giant: or, Dainty Lnnco In Jeopardy.
By Jon: lll E. lhulxnr, Jr.
149 an 1.1} n Arlznnu, this King Pin of Rnad-Agcnu.

y 'm‘nfp S.“’nrlm.
141 New ork Nell, thu Boy-Girl liy
Edward L. Vv'heelur. r
142 th110 Toxnnuho Ymsznstnnger. By OllCnomes.
148 Dead] Ila-h; or, Fighting km. with Fire. By
Joe. E. miner, Jr.
144 Little Grlt, the Wild Rhianor,Bulimthnstnck
’l'dndor’s Daughter. By Cnl. Prontiu lnmham.
14‘ The Tiger of'l‘nou.

a. mum..." llnluws.
m... H" u. u'nmn

Dutectivu.

By Goo. Waldo Browne.
' 140 The Cattle King. By Funk Dunmnt.

Winch-r. .

 

 

wuwwwwmwmwwummmmmwmmmmzmmwwm’mmmwmmmmmmmmmhmmm

1.“: Nubhy Nick ol'chndu. By Erin-an! 1.. Wheeler.

14! l hundcrbult ’ nu. By llnrry St. G 112.

1-19 "oh Rot-ken, lhe linnh Runner; or, The Hand to

U Ruin. 14y ('hnrlw Morris.

1110 The Mud Ml: r; ur.Dnmly Ruth‘s Doom.
H. 'nldu llru ‘

1' The Nun

152.

153

By

By (‘nL Prentiss lngzrnhmn.

n,-
V HT.

1.1 1111 Frunk, thi- Burl-{skin Bravo. By Edwnrrl L.

\VlIr-r-ler.
'l‘lu- lluy ’l‘rullornf or. Dninty Lance on the

\\'.u -l’n|h. My . ....1 mm, Jr.

('1‘.
ur, The 'l'igr-rs 01 High Pine.

154
155 G‘llll l’lumu, xlu- linmlit; or, The Klll-GlDVG
Sml't. In «an. l’n-ntisr nu nlmm.
156 1 'III \l'llllllru In the “'mndn. By C. Morris.
’ Ned 'l'rlnnlu, lhu linnh-r llnv ]l_\ llnrhnugh.
158 Ill-ml“ 00d I’ll-l"! I’m) ly la. . “'Imrlel’.
159 l\‘\ t - l-l.cnlhur Joc‘nl el'cut. liyl’hllip. S.
n .-.
160 {lllll‘llu Bllly, the Buy liullwhnckcr. By (301.1’.
ngru mm.
161 11in [Km-1w”. the Crnrkemnn. lly C. Morris.
Itp IC'Ittlc Ilurrlounc, thu Buy Captain. lly Ol
hum».
16' llcmlu‘nml Dlt'k’n Dream: Jr, The Rivuls of
Iln' l‘urnl. ll l‘lulwnnl l. “' Iu- er.
161 Tormulo 'um: nr, lnjnn Jnck {rum Rail Cure.
ll_\' 1‘. 1'. llnrlmugh.
165 Hull'uln "111’: 1101. 11y Uni. Prentiss lnm'nlmm.
ltiti “Ill \1 lldlire “'lns und Lotion. By Chnrlcs
. nrm.
‘ known Pledge. lly George \V. llrnwne.
Id wood Dlok’n “'nrd' or, The Black Hills
‘lH'l. llx I‘Zulnnnl L. \l'lucclvr.
169 '1 1n- llny (Illnnlplon; or, Dutch llcrllmu of tin:
Mlullinuum. My lfillwnnl “’ith.
170 1:01). lluckctt’n Flth for Lll‘c. By Chnrles
.‘ Ul’l‘ls. .
171 Fruuk Morton. thn lioy llrrculvs. Bv Oil Cumnol,
172 The. Yuma-e Hunger. lly Edwin Emrrnnn.
178 lllt-l.‘ Dingle, Scout; or, Thr Frontier Angvl.

lCrlwm'il S.
Srhcme. In- a. w. unmw.
'111’0. Dy Edwme 1., Win-n-lvr.
I’( It l’luvk. liy (‘hnrhvs Mm'u.
lny Commander. liy('n1.l‘n-u|1ulngmlnnn.
lnnlm- Hunk-r. By llurion Snxv.
Lllllt‘l': nr, le Mystic .\.nl'keml\n. By

lly

By Clml’lvi Murrll.
By Lleul. Cul-

181 The Scum-Inner.- Son.
182 'lihoI llnrk v Sklnncd Scout.
"1:" tinv.
1H3 Jubuz Hurt, thuctlvv. By Oil Com-non.
1er Featherweight, the Bay Spy. By Edward “'llh-w
185 Iilnon lllll, tin- ()n-rlnnd I’x'incc. by Col. Prulltlsl
lngrnhnm.
186 Dainty Lunuc and "In Purd. fly Joseph E.
linilgvr, Jr.
18? The 'l'rnmwll ’l‘lgcr King. By Charles Murril.
’u‘mly August ln.
[HR The Vent rlloqulul. llvtcellve. By Edwurrl 1.,
Wurlur n.- .n Airgun n.
189 (Md Rot-IQ"! llnyg; nr, Ba-niln, the Young Mun-
lnng Bn-nkvr. Iiy Mn]. Sam. 5. Hull.
n.- 13' Anunnl ‘24.
190 film Sllnpklnn. Stunt. By James L. Bowen.
mmly August. :n.
191 Dnndy lhwk’n Rlval. By 660. Waldo Browne.
Rumly S4-pt:-Inln~r 'l.
lulu-d Every Wednesday.

Bendle‘a Pocket lerary in for Wile by all Newu-
denier», live Cent! per copy, or wnt by mail on receipt of six
cents ouch. '-
BEADLE d: ADAMS. Publlsllerl,

98 Willlum Street, New York.