\

r
\

HII III MI

I\
\\\\m\\\\\ wwwmx
 IHilEBIiWJMTIlT-Wmilfll—Ilméiil‘ ’ " ‘

.4
. ,.  ~ 2d llllll
Copyrighted, 18219, by Bum: AND Ann‘s. Entered at. the You Oflice at New York. N. Y., as Second Clnu Mali Manor. Feb. ‘27, 1889.

§

2.50 Published Weekl b Be dle a d Ads. 3 “
N0:  a’Yenr. No. 98 WILEIAMYST" :[Ew ygim' m ’ Flv‘grgeelztp.  XXIn

//// .

R, AND YET SEEMINGLY

NEARER AND NEAREB THE HORSEMAN CAME, ALL ('NCONSOIOUS 0F DANGE
0N TBS ALERT FROM HABIT.

o

 

e ' Dead Shot Dandy.

 

Dead Shut Dandy; '

THE RIO GRANDE MARAUDERS.

BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM,

AUTHOR OF “ BILLY, THE BOY ROVER,”
“MERLE, THE BOY CRUISER,” ETC., ETC.

CHAPTER I.
THE DEAD snow DANDY.

“HELLO, Dead Shot, is yer goin’ on a
scout, that I sees yer cleanin’ up yer wee-
pins?”

" Yes, Bronze Bill, I am going on a short
scout."

, “ Which way this time, pard?"

“I’ll strike the Red Trail through the
chaparrals and then return down the river
back to the fort.”

“ When does yer start?”

“In an hour or so."

“ That will bring you to the Padre’s
Rock to camp?”

“Yes, I always camp there‘ at night, for
there is good grass and water." ‘

“ Waal. luck to yer, says I. Dead Shot."

” Thank ybu. Bronze Bill.”

The scene of this conversation was in a
Texan fort. not far from the Rio Grande.

The speakers were a scout and a hunter of
the fort, the former being the one addressed
as Dead Shot, and a man of imposing ap-
pearance. ‘

His form was elegant, yet powerfully
built, straight as an arrow, willow , and
graceful, and his face was stampe with
nobility of soul, and fascinating in its manly
beauty.

His dark-blue eyes, shaded by long black
lashes, and his gold-brown nair, han ing
below his broad shoulders. gave him a 00k
of womanly gentleness, though a slumbering
fire seemed dwelling far back in the depths
of his eyes, ready, volcano-like, to burst
forth when his nature‘wns aroused. -

/The dress of the man had ained for him
the nickname of Dead Shot andy, though
he was entered upon the roll as Duke Deca-
tur, and his name was all that was known
‘ regarding him by officers and men, other

than that he was the best scout upon the Rio
Grande border.

Rumor had it that he had once been a
wealthy ranchero in Mexico, though an
American, but that he had lost his riches by
gambling, and, thoroughly acquainted with
the countrhhad taken to scouting; but none
seemed to ow who he was or what he had

 

been, and of his past he said nothing, and
there was that about him which forbade
questioning into his antecedents.

He spoke Spanish as well as he did Eng-
lish, and his dress was a mingling of the
Mexican army and border garb, and scrupu-
lously neat, for he wore cavalry boots, into
the tops of which were stuck buckskin leg-
gings, fringed and headed.

His shirt was of gray silk, the collar turned
over a black scarf, and about his slender
waist was a silver-thread sash, in which were
a pair of gold-mounted revolvers and a jewel-
hilted bowie.

His jacket was velvet, thoroughly Mexi-
can, trimmed with gold-lace and buttons,
and his sombrero was of the style worn be-
yond the Rio Grande, and with an ingenious-
ly-made gold-snake, with diamond eyes, serv—
ing as a cord.

11 his black-silk scarf glimmered adiamond
solitaire of considerable value, and upon the
little finger was a heavy hand of gold in
which was set an exquisite ruby.

By his side in a richlyrmouuted Mexrcan
saddle and brid c, and staked out in front of
his tent was a black horse, whose beauty,
speed and endurance had caused him to be
coveted by all at the fort, in spite of the
Commandment not to covet our neighbor’s
goods.

The one who had been passing by Dead
Shot Dandy’s tent and had spoken to him
was a buckskin-clad hunter of the post, and
remarkable only in the fact that he kept the
soldiers well supplied with game.

He had come to the fort soon after the ar-
rival of Dead Shot Dandy, and, as to what he
had been, no one knew and few cared; but
between the two no friendship had existed,
for Bronze Bill, as he was called. had hint.
ed‘that he thought that the scout would bear
watchin , while the latter had plainly said
he would some day prove the hunter to be a
villain.

Leaving Dead Shot Dandy putting his
arms in readiness for his scouting-trip,
Bill passed on to a distant part of the post,

where were located the hunters, trappers,

and hangers-on of the fort.

Entering an adobe but, he found several
men seated at a table, gfllnbling. and giving
one a look of a peculiar kind, he walked out
again, and took his seat upon a fallen tree.

The one to whom he had given the sign
soon came out of the but and joined him.

He was as darkly bronzed as a Mexican,
with fiery black eyes and hair and mustache
of the same hue, the former drooping upon
his shoulders.

He was dressed in a handsome suit of buck-
skin, was thoroughly armed, and certainly

would be considered a remarkably handsome

s

 

 

Dead Shot Dandy. ‘ 8 '

 

man, while his form was tall, slender, yet
sinewy and agile.

Next to Dead Shot Dandy he was the rank-
ing scout at the fort, and a good one, too;
but he had a violent temper and a manner
that was haughty and overbearing, and few
liked him, and he was generally dreaded.

His own story of himself was that his father
had been an American naval officer, who had
married his mother, a Mexican heiress, and
settled in' Mexico.

He had been born in Mexico, reared in
luxury, and well educated; but his father
was suspected of plotting against the Gov-
ernment, and had been executed. his mother

. stripped of her wealth and exiled.

Coming to Texas, his mother and himself
had settled upon a small ranch, where she
died soon after, and he took to scouting as a
means of support.

He called himself Jose Nunez, but as usual
on the border, he had been given anickname.
that of Monte, on account of his great love
for ambling. .

“ ard, Dead Shot starts on a scout this
arternoon,” said Bronze Bill, as Monte join-
ed him.

“ Ab! and you know his course?" was the

quick response.

" I does.”

“And you are ready to earn the gold I
promised you?"

“ Yes, pard.”

“ Then do so, and start at once, for I wish
no one to see us to ether.”

“I’m off, and ’11 win my gold, Pard
Monte," answered Bronze Bill, and five min-
utes after he was, mounted upon his horse
riding away from the fort in a southerly di-
rection.

But once the roll of the prairie hid him
from view of any eyes that might be watch-
ing him, he turned to the northward, and
pressing his horse into a rapid gallop, said:

“ Now fer ther Padre's Rock to win ther
gold that Monte promised, me.”.

 

CHAPTER II.
A TRAGEDY AT mama’s nocx.
BRONZE BILL did not certainly spare his

horse in his ride to Padre's Rock. but kept,

him at a long sweeping gallop, which. how-
ever, did not seem to distress the animal to
our great extent.

t was not yet sunset when he drew rein in
the midst of the Chaparrals, and staked his
horse out in an open plot, while he strode on
ata quick pace. as though he had not yet
reached his destination.

Soon he came in sight of an opening in
the Chaparral: of considerable size, arid in

the center of it was a clump of trees half -
hiding a large rock, which in the distance,
looked like an adobe hut.

By this the Chaparral trail ran, and, as
there was a spring bubbling up fronflhe
base of the rock. and plenty of grass in the
opening, it was a favorite camping-place
among scouts and hunters.

Straight to the rock Bronze Bill went,
and climbing half-way up its rough side, ‘
concealed himself in the foliage of a scrub-
trce that grew there. his face turned up the
trail coming from the south.

Hardly had he gotten settled in his am-
bush before a horseman appeared in sight
coming slowly toward the Padre’s Rock,
whichhad been so named from its having
been the scene where a Mexican priest had
been murdered some years before.

“ Yes, it are Dead Shot Dandy. and I
didn’t ride none too rapid ter git here fu’st,”
muttered Bronze Bill, as he brought his
weapons round for use:

“I guesses he‘ll come close up, so I kin use
my revolver on him, an’ ef thet do fail, then
i hes my rifle. '

“ Waal, it hain’t adzactl 'squar’ ter sh0ut
a man out o‘ ambush, but gits paid fer it,
an’ thet gold chain an’ watch he wears. not
ter speak 0’ ther pin an’ ring, an’ leavin’ out
his money, with which he allus goes, are
enough ter smooth over my conscience,
which hain’t so durned tender nohow."

Nearer and nearer the horseman came, all
unconscious of danger, and yet seemingly on
the alert from habit. ‘

Straight toward the rock he rode, halting
when within thirty paces of it. and cautious-
ly peering into its ragged sides, and the
scrub-trees about it.

As still and quiet as a Chaparral tiger wait- .
ing for its prey, Bronze Bill remained, his
rifle lying cooked by his side, his revolver
held ready in his hand, while he peered out
through the foliage that concealed him so
well.

As if satisfied that no foe lurked about the
rock the horseman rode on, the last rays of
the setting sun falling full upon him, as he
drew rein to dismount.

Suddenly there came a flash and re rt,
and the horseman reeled in his sadd , as
though hard hit; but, while his horse wheel-
ed suddenly about, in fright, his rider drew
his revolver and fired directly into the foliage
of the tree, just as a second discharge came.

But the second shot from the ambush flew
wild, and was mingled with a cry of part},
as down from his perch rolled the assassin,
falling at the very feet of his intended vic—
tim‘s horse.

Limp and motionless in a ghastly heap
Bronze Bill lay, while, seated upon 111$ horse

 

6"..5

    

4 Dead Shot Dandy.

 

seemingly unhurt, the rider gazed down at
him for an instant witha contemptuous look
upon his handsome face.

“  you coward!" came in deep tones
from c lips of the horseman, who without
another glance at his prostrate foe's upturn~
ed face, rode slowly on by the Pedro‘s Rock,
and disappeared up the trail in the Chapar-

ra s.

Hardly had he ridden out of sight when a
deep groan broke from the lips of Bronze
Bill, whose eyes now opened and looked in a
scared way about him.

“ Ah me! I’m done fer, I is afeerd. ‘

“But I didn’t dare move fer fear he'd
plug me ag’in.

“ I aimed true, an' I thought I hit him
squar’ in ther heart; but it jist' seemed ter
shake him up a lectle, an’ afore I c‘u‘d draw
triflger ag‘in he lied his lead inter me, an’ I
lied ter tumble.

“ Lordy! I believes Iarc bleediu ter death,
an’ it’s twenty mile ter camp; but I must be
movin'."

He attempted to rise, and to his horror
could not do so, but sunk back with a groan
of anguish.

“ Oh, Lord! I hes been plugged an’slashed
often in my time, but this are ther awfulcst
time.

“ Cues him! I believe he hes give me my
underground certifikit.

“ An’ cuss thct Monte, too, fer he got me
inter it. when I sh’u’d hev know'd better than
ter fool with thet Dead Shot Dandy, fer he
hain't no man ter he tnk in.

“ Waal, I‘ll try ag'in ter git ter my horse
an" see if I hain't able ter reach camp.”

Once more he made an effort to rise, and
again he fell back. a shriek of anguish break-
iniir‘from his livid lips.

or full a minute he lay motionless, and
then he gasped forth:

“My hour hcv come, Iknows. an’ I hes
got ter lay here an’ think over all ther mean
things I hes did ontil I dies.

“ ’Pears ter me I hes been a all-fired mighty
sinner; but cf I forgets anythingl hes did,
its all down ag‘in' me, the fort chaplain says,
an’ be oughter know, fer he’s posted.

“Lord! Lord! hcv mercy 'pon a miserable
wretchl" ,

Again he remained quiet for a while, and
then said:

“ Et‘ Diad Shot Dandy hed ’avl know'd he
didn't kill me, he’d hev stayed right heur an’
didall he c’u’d fer me, as he are no slouch of
a man. '

“But he know’d his aim were sart'in ef his
horse were up in ther air, an’ he jist rode
right on. not stoppin‘ ter s’arch my pockets,
which goes ter prove he are a squar' man,
fer I’d s‘arch a dead nigger’s pockets.

1

 

“ Oh, Lord! I is bleeding so I’ll be drowned
in my own blood of I don’t swim out.”

And again he attempted to rise, to once
more fall back with the same cry of anguish
the movement Wrung from his lips.

Suddenly he started, for the sound of ap-
proaching hoofs fell upon his ear, and open-
ing his eyes he saw in the fading twilight a
horseman coming directly toward him.

Raising his votce he called out:

" Hello, pardl"

The horseman halted, and then rode for-
ward once more, while Bronze Bill mutter~

ed: .

“ If it’s a foe he kin do me no harm, an’ of
he’s a friend he kin do me no good.

" But he‘ll help ter keep off ther ghosts
that I begins ter see crowdin’ round me
now.”

 

CHAPTER III.
MONTE’s PLOT.

IT was jnst light enough when the horse-
man rode up to Padre’s Rock and drew rein,
for the wounded man to recognize him, and
he called out quickly:

“ Ah! Monte, you here, an’ come ter see
me die?” ,

“ Bronze Bill! Is it you?" and Monte the
Mexican, for it was he, threw himself from

,his saddle and bent over the wounded man,

whom he had sent forth a few hours before
in full health and vigor, to commit a deadly
crime.

"It are what is left 0' me, an' what the

‘ coyotes will soon Dick." was the repl

“ No, no. not as had as that. Bill, thope."

“ It are jist as had. fer I feel I hev ter pass
iglrlny chips aforc long," sadly said Bronze

1 .

“But how is it that Iflnd you (lying, when
I expected to find Dead Shot dead?"

“ Waal. he war too quick fer me, an' his
aim never fails. yer know."

“So you met him here?”

“ I kinder feel as ef I did."

‘1 And fired on him?"

It 1'88.”

” But missed him?”

" I'll never tell yer. pard, as ter thet: but
I sat up yonder, hidin' in thet bush. an'I
drawed trigger on him when he war jist thar
.whar your horse be

“I seen him kinder fall back as I shooted,
but nfore his horse c’u’d git awny, he lied
checked him an’ let me hev it."

“,Did he see you?"

“ No, but he seen whar ther shot come
from an’ he shootcd ter hit, an’ tho’ I pulled
trigger ag'in, down I tumbled an’ here I
are.”

“ And where is Dead Shot Dandy?”

“ Thar Lord knows.”

 

     
 
  

  

 

  

 

 

 

Dead Shot Dandy. 5

 

" Did he. ride off?"

“ I played ’possum, fer I thought I might
git a present 0’ more lead, an’ be said suthin‘
ter hisself about me bein' a coward, an' rode
away as pleasant as yer please.”

“Curse him! so you failed to kill him?”
said Monte, between his shut teeth.

“ Yas: but thar is no doubt about his killin’
me, ard, an’ I won’t want yer gold.

“ ut what is you doin‘ here?"

“ I will tell you frankly, Bill, I haltvway
doubted you, and came to do the work my-
self; but I see I wronged you— Ha! I have
it

"Im‘ll avenge you I”

" Yer’ll get yer toes turned up ef yer fools
with Dead Shot Dandy, pard.”

“ I’ll tell you what 1 will do, Bronze Bill,
and on must help me."

“ are a lively feller ter help yer, now
hain’t I?”

“ Perhaps you are not mortally wounded.”

“ I are,”

" Let me see for myself.”

” Don’t move me, pard, fer ther good
Lord’s sake, fer I do believe my back are
broke, as I cannot move."

The scout made no reply. but, gathering
some brush, soon had a fire blazing near, and
then set. to work to examine the wound re-
ceived by the hunter.

The most cursorv examination proved to
him that Bronze Bill must die, and he said:
“ Bill, old fellow, you must go under.”

“ Didn't I tell yer so?"

“ But I will avenge you; for, as soon as I
have made you as comfortable as I can, I
will ride hard to the fort, and bring Surgeon
Otey back with me, as also men with an
ambulance.”

“ 'Twon’t do no good, pard.

“ Better fetch a coffin?

“ lt ’will do good. for you will live through
the night, and you can tell them all that you
had a quarrel with Dead Shot Dandy and he
drew his revolver and shot you down.

“Tell them you saw Dead Shot talking to
a Mexican whom you knew to be one of the
Rio Grande Marauders, and accused him of
being a traitor, when he fired on you, and,
believing he had killed you, rode away."

“Yer wishes me ter tell a lie wit what
lcetle breath I hes left?"

“ What does that matter, when you will

et revenge, for I will say that I met Dead
Shot leaving here and he tried to send me 03
upon another trail, but his manner caused
me to sus ct something. and Icame by here
and foun you wounded.

“I can be back here with Surgeon Otey
within four hours." . ‘

" Pard Monte!” said Bronze Bill,'impul-
sively.

 

“Well?”

“ Do you think they will punish Dead Shot
of I tells thet lie?”

“Yes, he will be hanged sure.”

“ Wal, I’ll tell ther lie, ef I are' here when
yer gits back—”

“ If you are here?"

“Yas, of my speerit hain’t crossed ther
Big River.” '

“Ah, yes; well, I will go at once, and
spare not the spur.”

“One minute, Pard Monte,” called out
Bronze Bill, as the scout was hastenin to
his horse, his desire for revenge against ead
Shot Dandy, for some reason, deadening his
sympathy for the man Whom he had been
the means of placing where he then was.

" Well. talk quick, Bill.”

“ I will tell ther lie, but upon one condi-
tion.”

“ Speak outl" ,

“ Yer knows I has a leetle darter livin’ in
San Antone?" '

“ I have heard you say so.”

“She is at ther convent thar. an' her l
name are Lulu Dale, Bill Dale bein’ my name
when I were christened."

“ Well. Bill?”

“I hain‘t but a lcetle over a thousan’
dollars ter leave her, an’ you told me you’d
give me five hundred in gold ter kill ther
Dead Shot Dandy, and yer give me yer due
bill fer thet amount.”

“Yes, es.”

“Now I'll tell ther lie ef yer says er‘ll
go ter San Antone, hunt my leetle Lu u up
an’ give her my money, which are in ther

aymaster’s hands at ther fort, an’ along with
it, yer’ll give her ther five hundred yer
promised me.”

“ It is a bargain, if you tell the story I
ask.” '

“ Then I tells it fer my lectle darter’s sake,
an’ may ther good Lord forgive me.

“Now get me a canteen 0' water, an’ fix
in head a leetle higher, an’ go to ther fort."

iIome almost impatiently obeyed these
last requests of the dying hunter, and then,
throwing himself into his saddle, dashed
away like the wind, leaving Bronze Bill ly-
ing in deatlragonies in that lonely spot, the
flickering firolight casting phantom-like
shadows against the Purlro‘s Rock, and the
coyotes in the clmparrals. seen-ting human
blood, yelping in anticipation of a feastbe-
fore very long.

CHAPTER IV.

THE’ HUNTER’S CHARGE.

Tnouoa a villain at heart, Bronze Bill
was not a coward, and his nature was such
that he would die game.

 

 

 

' 6 Dead Shot Dandy.

 

He knew that there was no hope for him.
and he suffered agony; yet he did not mur-
mur, as he lay still counting the fleeting mo~
ments go by.

Now and then his mind would wander,

and wholly dropping the dialect of the b0r-,

der, he would talk away of'a happy home he
had once known as a boy upon his father’s
plantation.

But he had been Wild and wayward,
became dissipated, and in a drunken debauch
had taken life and had to fly.

He had gone as a. private in the army of
invasion into Mexico, and was wounded and
left at a. hacienda. where he was carefully
cared for.

The Don had a young and lovely daughter
who fell in love with him, as he did with
her, and as soon as he was able to leave he
fled from the hospitable roof with the maiden
and sought a home in Texas.

Penniless, he had been forced to accept a
position as cowboy, and this proving a poor
return for his young Wife‘s trust in him. he
had secretly leagued himself with a band of
Outlaws, and thus was enabled to give her a.
good support.

At last a child was born to William Dale
and ' his Mexican wife, but their joy was
soon clouded, as the health of Mm Dale
began to fail, and soon after she was laid in
her grave. .

Leaving his child in the care of kind
friends, William Dale entered the service of
the Government as a guide and scout,
determined, for the sake of his child, to lead
a better life. ‘

And thus he drifted on for years, until once
more he became the secret ally of bandits,
and at the time of the opening of this

story, was a traitor to those he served at the ‘

fort. for as a hunter he knew much of the
movements of the defenseless trains and un-
guarded posts, and informed the Marauders
that they might strike to their advantage
when and where booty was to be gained. and
he be a sharer in their spoils.

All these , memories crowded upon the

dying man as he lay there alone in the chap-
arrals, and he could not but admit that his
life had been one long mistake, filled with
crime.
‘_ To his daughter he had been ever kind.
visiting her once each year, and then casting
aside his border dialect with his prairie cos~
tume, he would appear as the gentleman he
once had been.

As a ranchero his daughter only knew
him. and, as upon each visit he gave her
ample money for her support and needs,
both she and those that had the care of her

believed him to be wealthy, and far different |

from what in reality he was.

 

At last, in one of his wandering moods
which flashed over him every few minutes,
he started, for his quick ear caught the
sound of rapid hoof‘lfalls.

“ He are coming back, but it hain’t no
use.” '

“ Yes, the surgeon is with him, an’ more,
too," he muttered.

The fire had burned low, and all around
S(e:ned dismal in the extreme to three horse-
men who dashed up to the Padre’s Rock and
threw themselves from their saddles

“ Ho, pard Bill, are you alive?” called out
Monte, in suppressed tones. as though he
feared to get nO'reply.

“ I am.” was the istinct answer.

“ Goodl for while there is life there is
hope. .

“ See, I have brought Surgeon Otey, and
Captain Cecil Lorne has come to hear your
strange report about Dead Shot Dandy, and
which seems hard to believe.”

“Yes, it is hard to believe,” said Bronze
Bill, no longer speaking with the border
slang and dialect, to the surprise of Monte
and the oflicers.

“The ambulance is coming, and if possi—
ble we will remove you to comfortable quar—
ters at the fort,” continued Monte, who was
surprised to find the man so stron . and
hoped that the moving of him won (1 kill
him, as it was his dying statement he wanted
against Dead Shot Dandy. ‘

“ I think you had better let me die here,
for I suffer agony at the slightest move
ment.” said Bronze Bill, quietly.

“We shall soon see. Bill,“ remarked Sur-
geon Otey kindly, as he bent over the
wounded men, while Monte threw some
brush upon the fire, causing a bright light.

Looking on, as he stood upright with his
arms folded across’his broad chest, was Ca -
tain Cecil Lorne. a young, handsome, das -
ing officer. the idol of the soldiers.

His handsome face was now sad, for he
had come to listen to a severe charge, made
by dying lips, a ainst a man whom he loved
as a brother, an one whom he owed his life
to on more than one occasion.

“The wound is fatal. Iam Sorry to have
to tell you, Bill,” said Surgeon Ote .

3 ” I knew it, sir, from the first,’ was the
calm reply.

“ And now, Bronze Bill. will you tell me
just how you received this Wound?” asked
Captain Lorne.

“I told Monte, sir.”

“And his report caused me to come and
hear the truth from your lips.”

“ Well. sir, I came out from the fort, hop-
ifngdto staike a lherd of deer I knew were
ee ing own t is we. , and ’I came u
Dead Shot Dandy.” y pan

 

 

_ Immense, ryffv " ” i ‘

 

 

“4.54:4

.2;  i: 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dead Shot Dandy; '3

 

“You are sure that it was Duke Decatur,
whom the boys call Dead Shot Dick?”

“Yes, sir, for I talkedwith him. _ 4

“He was with a Mexican, when I first saw
him, whom I know to be one of the Marau-
der Band, but left him as he sighted me, and
soon after I joined him. ‘

“I asked him if he was selling outto the
Marauders of the Rio Grande, and he got
very angry, and told me I should never say
those words where suspicion would fall on
him, and before I was aware of what he
would do, he shot me.

“ I fell from my horse, and he rode away
and left me here to die, but believed I was
dead.”

“ And this is your dying statement?"

" It is, Captain Lorne.”

“ And dying, you make this charge against
Dead Shot Dandy?”

“ I do.” r

“Were it from other than the lips of a

' dying man, I would not believe it of Duke

Decatur,” hotly said the young officer.

“Nor I, Lorne; but now there can be no
doubt, for Monte says that he met Dead Shot
near here, and he tried to prevent his coming
 the Padre's Rock,” remarked Surgeon

ey.

“ It is hard to believe, sir, but it is true,”
gut in Monte, and then, seeing that Bronze

ill wished to speak with him, he said, as he
leaned ever:

“ What is it, my poor pard?”

“ You kn0w I asked you to get in , money
from the paymaster?” said Bronze ' ill, in a
tone meant to reach the ears of both the ofii.
cers."

” Yes.”

“ It amounts to twelve hundred dollars.”

“ So you said.”

“ Then in my pocket I have another hun-
dred.”

“ Yes.” ,

"And you have of my money fifteen hun-
dred dollars?”

“ No, five hundred, you remember, Bill."

“ You forget the last thousand I won from
you, Monte.” said Bronze Bill, in a tone so
significant that the gambler scout could not
fail to understand that he had him in his
power, and was going to make the best of it
for the benefit of his daughter.

Monte gritted a come between his teeth,
but said: 7

“ Oh, yes, the odd thousand dollars of
winnings I hold for you.”

“‘ Yes, and that makes altogether twenty-
eight hundred dollars, does it not?"

4‘  H

“ Well, my traps, weapons and horses will

‘brin a couple of, hundred more, and I an—

thorize Captain Cecil Lorne to sell them for

 

me, and you are topay over to him the fit.
teen hundred you owe me.

“ Then he will draw from the paymaster
my money due, and give all to my daughv
ter.”

“ You asked me to do so," said Monte.

“I did when no one else was here; but I
ask Captain Lorne to do so now.

“ Will you do so, captain?”

“I will do anything I can for you, Bill.

“ But where is your daughter?"

“She is at the convent in San Antonio,
and her name is Lulu Dale.

“Tell her that I was killed, and dying,
left her the money with my blessing.

” It is all I have td' leave her, tell her: but
do not let her know that lwas a hunter at
the post, for frankly, captain, she believed
me to be a ranchero, and I never went to see
her as Bronze Bill, but as the gentleman I
once knew how tq be.”

"Yes, it is ev1dent that you have once
been very different from what we believed
you, Bill. .

“But I will get the money from Monte
and the Epaymaster, sell your traps and
horses, an deliver all to your daughter."

“And you won’t tell her that I was a poor
hunter?”

“ No, I will respect your dying wishes."

“ God bless you, captain.

“Now I am ready to die, and the sooner . V

the better, for I shall be out of pain,rand
can no longer think, and thought hurts now
most bitterl .” ‘ _

Captain orne sat down by the wounded
man and kindly took his hand, while Sur-
geon. Otey administered some opiates to him,
and he sunk into a stupor just as the ambu-
lance dashed up, escorted by a guard of half
a dozen soldiers.  '

“Will you attempt to remove him, Oteyif’
asked Captain Lorne.

The surgeon laid his hand upon the pulse
and said quietly:

“There is no use; let the soldiers buy
him here, for he is dead.” I

“ Thank God!” came from between the
shut lips of Monte as he heard the words.

CHAPTER V.
THE BOY BUGLER, ' p _

A HORSEMAN was riding slowly acrossth‘e
rolling prairies, just at twilight. « ‘

A new moon was lengthening out the
light, and rendering objects visible some dim
tanCe ofi. ' \

Beyond the horseman half a mile, was vis-
ible a clump of timbers, a prairie island, a.
motto, as the are called in Texas, and it was '
evident that e was‘making his way there to,
encamp for the night. ‘

As the‘new moon cast its light upon him,

'i

 

 

s , beta Qhot Dandy.

the face and form of Dead Shot Dandy were
revealed.

Suddenly he drew rein, for his quick ears
caught a sound in the distance.

I‘ “ They are wolves, and-they have run down
some game, or are snarling over some dead

. body,” he muttered.

Again he resumed his onward we , to once
more draw rein and listen attentive y.

Distinctly upon the night-air arose the
notes of a bugle, stilling the howlings oi the
wolves in the timber, as though charming
them into silence.

A few stirring blasts were given, and then

in soft cadence. clear and sympathetic, was
begun the familiar strains of that uever-to-be-
forgotten melody, " Home, Sweet Home.”
‘ “ There is a squad of cavalry encamped in
the timber; but I knew not that a party was
away from the fort,” said Dead Shot Dandy
to himself as he rode on.

, There now became visible one camp-fire,
and it was not blazing very brightly, but then
the night was warm.

. ' From one melody into another floated the
strains of the bugle, and all were played with
such atone of sympathy, and in such a mas-
terly manner, that the scout said aloud:

“ I wonder who it can be, for no one at the
fort can play as he does."

Riding slowly, that he might not miss the
strains. it was some time before he rode up
to the timber. /

To his surprise no sentinel halted him, and
he saw no forms of men or horses by the
light of the single fire.

As he rode into the timber he seemed to
feel oppressed from some reason he could not
explain, and he halted quickly, as the bugle-
notes suddenly came to an end.

" Hello! who is here?"

He called out in a loud tone, for he did
not wish to take the chances of a shot, and
he had his rifle ready for instant‘use.

As he spoke he gazed around him as well
as. he cauld, and beheld dimly a wagon or
two, and then some dark objects lying here
and there upon the ground, while again the
howling of hungry wolves began.

" Hol what camp is this?”

He called out more loudly than before, and
then saw a form rise from beyond the camp-
fire, and come slowly toward him.

“ Ah! my man, I thought all were asleep.

“ What camp is this?’ asked Dead Shot
Dandy, as the person advanced toward him,
while he also I moved his horse forward to
meet him. ,

“ It is Death’s camp now, sir,” came the
answer. in a boyish voice, and Death Shot
saw before him the slender form of a youth
of fourteen. .

fie was clad in buckskin, wore boots, and

 

a slouch hat, and about his waist was a belt
of arms. _

In one hand he carried a revolver, and in
the other a comet, evidently the instrument
that the scout had just heard played with
such skill.

By the firelight Dead Shot Dick saw a
well-formed boy, with a handsome face,
fearless and resolute, but touchingly sad
just then, and haggard, as with sorrow and
suffering. .

His eyes were large-and black, and his hair
was worn long, falling in curls upon his
shoulders.

In the background were several wagons,
and here and there lay a human body, which
showed that some tragic scene had been en-
acted there, and that it was indeed, as the
be had said, “ Death’s camp.” L

pringing from his saddle, Death Shot
Dandy advanced toward the youth, while he
said, uicklv:

“ y God! What has happened here, my
boy?”

“A massacre, sir,” was the calm reply.

“A massacre of Whom, and by whom?”

“ All I loved sir, were massacred here last
night, and these who did th cruel deed
were the Rio Grande Marande ;” sadly said
the boy.

“ My (poor young friend, there has indeed
been re work here, and you have been a
great sufferer. But where are the others of
the camp?”

“Most of them are in their graves, and
there are the rest, which I intended burying
to-morrow,” and he pointed to the dead
bodies.

“ Do you mean to say that you are all
alone in this dreadful place?”

“Yes, sir, I am all alone in this wide
world now,” and tears came into the dark
eyes. V

“No, my boy, for I shall be your
friend. Now tell me all you know about this
affair?” ,

“ It is soon told, sir. My father, mother,
brother, sister, and myself were on our wa
to seek a new home, for father had been 1e t
a small ranch a hundred miles north of here.
We had two old servants with us, a guide,
three Wagons, an ambulance, and a dozen
horses, and camped here for the night. My
pony got loose, and I went after him,
and thus my life Was saved, for when
Ireturned late at night, all were dead, ex-
cepting the guide, and he was dying, but
told me that the Rio Grande Marauders had
attacked the camp, and killed all. I fell in
a swoon, and it was just sunrise when I came
to my senses. I drove the wolves away, and
for a long time was overcome with grief. At
last '1 determined to bury my poor parents

 

 

 

 

v  fr?”

 

Dead Shot Dandy. ' s
\

 

and all. I dug a large grave, and placed in
it my father, mother, and brother, who was
younger than I am, but I could not find my
sister 6 body, and have not yet done so.
There lie the servants and the guide, and I
intended to bury them to-morrow.”

“ And you were playin that comet?”

“ Yes, sir, I felt so lone y I played to keep
from oing mad.” '

" y poor boy, from my heart I pity you.
But come; do not give way to your grief,
for friends will be found in lenty, and I
will be a brother to you. ow, tell me.
have you made thorough search for your
sister?”

"Everywhere, sir.”

“ How old is she?‘_’

” Just two years older than I am, sir, and
I am nearly fifteen.”

“ Ah!” and it was evident that Dead Shot
Dandy felt that he could account for the
absence of the maiden's body.

4 “ Do you think they have carried Lou 01f,
sir?" asked the boy, as though divining the
scout’s thoughts.

“ They may have done so, hoping for ran-
som, my boy.

“ What is your name?”

“Benito Dewhurst, sir. My mother was
aMexican, and her maiden name was Be
nito."

‘ ” And your father was an American l”

" Yes, sir."

“Well, Benito, all we can do now is to
bury the ids and the servants, and in the
mornin ecide what is best to be done.

“ As or yourself, you are my little brother
now, and must go With me.”

“I will be so glad, sir, for I like you, and
have no one else to love now, for 1 fear I
shall never see poor Lou again.”

“ Perhaps you may, so do‘ not give up
hope,” was the scout‘s assuring reply.

hen he set to work and the dead were
soon buried, and the booty, left by the
Marauders, was gathered to ther, to be
packed upon the horse which nito had rid-
den ofi in chase of his pony, those two ani-
mals thus escaping being carried ofi by the
raiders.

When all was ready, the two lay down to
sleep and await the coming dawn, intending
then to start for the fort, for Dead Shot
Dandy wished the boy to make his report to
the commanding officer as soon as ossible,
so that troopers could strike the trai of the
Marauders and go in hot pursuit.

 

CHAPTER VI.
THE unarmos' amour.
FORT BLANK was one of the most delight-
ful posts upon the Texas border, and its situ-

Q a

 

ation was out upon the prairie, with a pleas-
ant country not far distant.

There was timber near, a stream running
through the grounds, a substantial stockade
fortification, with pleasant quarters for the
oflicers and men.

Near by, over in another clump of timber
was what was known as Fort Village, and
there were congregated the settlers, hunters,
trappers, and hangers-on of the post, and a
wild lot many of them were, only held in
subjection by the military so near at hand.

In the fort proper there were about two
hundred soldiers, the greater part being cav-
alry, with a company of infantry and an-
other of light artiller .

Then there was a orce of scouts, hunters
and uides, numbering two-score more, and
chieg of these was Dead Shot Dandy, with
Monte next in command.

Over in Fort Village there were about two
hundred souls, so that if the latter was drawn
upon for volunteers, a very respectable little
army could go into the field at short notice.

Colonel Du Barry, the commandant, wasa
dashing, noble-hearted oficer, whose family
of a wife and daughter, preferred living with
him beyond the pale of civilization, to being
separated from him, and this circumstance
had brought to the post the families of some
of the junior officers, until quite a little com-
munity dwelt there.

With all, from the colonel down, Dead
Shot Dandy was a favorite, and'the mystery
that hung about him, caused him to be
a persona to be regarded with a certain
awe, for a l saw that he was a man of refine-
ment and education, content, from some
strange motive, unknown to others, to live a
wild ife upon the plains.

His wonderful skill as a trailer. his un-
daunted courage and prowess, added to his
many gallant eeds in battle and alone on the
trail, had brou ht him up to be chief of
scouts, while h§s horsemanship and deadly
aim with rifle and revolver were something
wonderful. .

That this man, seemingly the soul of
honor, had murdered Bronze Bill, created a
great surprise in the fort.

That he had been seen talking to one of the L
band of the Rio Grande Marauders also im-
plied that he knew something regarding
them, and strange whispers went round as
to the secret having been at last solved by
this, as to how the Marauders had become
aware of certain movements of the troops,
and often of valuable trains, which had been
attacked and robbed.

That there was a spy in tlie camp all had
suspected, though no one knew whom to ac-
cuse.

Now, with the charges against Dead 8110}

 

Dead Shot Dandy.

 

Dandy, it looked as though he was the
, traitor.

Bronze Bill had been buried Where he
fell. near Padre‘s Rock, and back to the fort
had Uaptain Cecil Lorne come with the sad
tidings learned from the lips of the dying
man.

It had fallen like a thunderbolt into the
camp. and few would at first believe it.

But when Monte told of his meeting with
Dead Shot. and his anxiety not to have him
go to the Padre‘s Rock, added to the confes-
gion as to who had shot him, coming from

he lips of a dying man, there seemed no room
for doubt.

To try and 'find Dead Shot would be time
thrown away, so the must await his return
to the fort, which, elieving that he had
killed Bronze Bill, he would dpubtless do,
thinking no one would suspect him.

Anxiously all waited, the sentinels keeping
their eyes constantly. scanning the prairies,
but without discerning the expected scout.

The etfects of Bronze Bill, his horses.
traps, weapons, and trophies of the hunthad
been put up at auction by Captain Lorne,
who had made known the circumstances of
why they were .sold, and readily they were
bought at high prices, so that the young
officer had a few hundreds of dollars over the
expected amount to hand to the poor orphan
girl in San Antonio.

He had \gotten from the paymaster the
amount he held for Bronze Bill and also had
received the fifteen hundred from Monte,
who paid it over without a word, and, as
soon as Dead Shot Dandy returned to the
fort, Captain Lorne intended to start for San
Antonio to see Lulu Dale.

But he did not care to leave until he had
seen the scout. whom he had hoped could
explain away the charge against him in some
manner.

The afternoon of the second day after the
tragedy at Padre’s Rock, Marie Du Barry,
the lovely daughter of the colonel. was
breaking in a new mustang which Dead Shot
Dandy had caught wild ‘and given her,
when, as she was riding in an extended
circle around the fort, she spied at a distance
what she at first supposed to be three horse-
men.

Thc wild mustang at the same time caught
sight of a herd of wild ponies far oil? on the
prairie, and, in spite of all that his fair rider
could do, dashed toward them with the speed
of the wind.

His course lay so as to,head them off in
their wild gallop, and in vain did the young
girl tug at the severe bit to check his speed.

A stallion, and formerly the king of the
Wild herd. he intended to take his place at
their head Once more, and well did the mai-

‘ a

 

den realize what might be her fate did he
once ain the flying drove. -

“ hey will tear me to pieces with their
sharp teeth, or I will be thrown and trampled
beneath their feet. Ah! Iwas foolish to ride
this far from the fort,” she cried, in horror,
at her situation.

A, roll of prairie hid her from the view of
the sentinels at the fort, and the herd of mus-
tangs. half a thousand in number, were too
far. off to be seen by the guards, so that it
would not be suspected that the maiden was
in deadly peril.

For a moment she had forgotten the horse-
men she had seen, but now glanced eagerly
toward them.

Two only were visible then, but a second
look showed her that one was far away, rid-
ing like an arrow shot from a bow to head
her off.

“Thank Godi help is at hand,” she gasp-
ed, and her hands let fall the reins, for she
was almost unnerved.

CHAPTER VII.
THE. RESCUE AND THE WARNING.

As long as she had had to depend wholl
upon herself, Marie Du Barr -had pulle( ,
with a strength she had not be icved she pos-
sessed, upon the reins, to check the wild

 

mustang; but when she saw that one horse-A

man was riding to her aid, she had become
partially unnerved and no longer offered any
resistance to the mad flight of the mustang.

Perhaps because she recognized the horse—
man that she placed dependence in him, for
otherwise she would not have thought that
the man could aid her. .

A second glance at the one who had seen
her peril, and was determined to save her, if
in his power, showed her a long-bodied, slen-
der-limbed black animal, with neck out.
stretched, going at a speed that no other
horse on the prairies had been known to
equal.

And in the saddle, rifle in hand, ready for
use, if needed, sat a tall form well known to
her, for often before had she seen it; and
more, upon another occasion, when, riding
out with Cecil Lorne, they were pursued by
red-skins, and gave up a1 hope, that same
one had come to the rescue and saved their
lives.

“It is the scout." she murmured, and then
a moment after came the words:

“ I will warn him of his danger, so that he
pan i’iy, for he has not yet been seen from the

ort. ’

Nearer and nearer her wild mustang drew
to the coming herd. and harder and harder
rode the scout to intercept her.

Could he do so?

Would even the splendid black he rode be

’ '

   
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
    
    
  

’ ,mewhavsm.  -

 

    
   
 
 

  
 

 

   

§-~-,.xe-sa.~.l < v A

 

Dead Shot Dandy. 11

 

able to keep up the killing pace to which he

was driven?

Nearer and nearer came the mustang to
the herd, and nearer and nearer the scout to
both. ~
. At last but a hundred yards intervened be-

.tween the mustang king and his herd, and

the same distance the scout had to ride, to
reach the maiden’s side.

Suddenly his repeating-rifle leaped to his
shoulder, and shot after shot peeled forth in-
to the head of the herd, dropping animal af-

‘ terranimal, and making them sway Wildly.

The next instant he dashed near enough to
throw his lasso over the head of the mustang
king, while he cried in thrilling tones:

“ Hold on for life’s sake, Miss Du Barry!”

The lasso settled over the head of the mus-
tan , the thoroughly-trained black settled
has quickly upon his haunches, and the
shock dragged the wild animal to his knees,
while, with a revolver in each hand Dead

VShot Dandy began to fire into the head of

the herd swee ing‘ over them, dropping a

barrier of (ice horses, in their front, which.

must force them to turn aside and pass
around them.

At the same instant Dead Shot Dandy
called out in ringing tones that arose above
the thunder of the boots:

“Hold on hard! for if you are thrown,
death. is Certain.”

Once he had checked the flight of the
mustang, Dead Shot Dandy left his Own
faithful animal to hold him, while he sprung
from the saddle and rushed to’ the side of the
struggling beast.

Watching his chance he dragged Marie
Du Barry from her saddle, had a bound

~took him to the pile of horses he had slain,

just as the mass of the herd dashed up.
When firing his revolver he had used those
from his saddle holsters, and now he stood
u n the body of a dead anim’alnand with
Dixie crouching behind him, he‘ began to

. .fire upon the advancio herd.

l Rapidly they opene ‘ a lane to the right
and left, and soon all had passed by, leavmg
the scout and maiden in safety, and with the
noble black still standing firm, and with the
wild mustang, the cause of the mischief,
choked‘down upon the ground.

, Springing to him Dead Shot Dandy loosen-
ed the noose, and soon the animal arose to his
feet, thoroughly tamed. just as Benito, the
Boy Bugler, was seen in the distance coming
toward them. ' '

“Ah, Mr. Decatur, I owe you my life, for
you have rescued me from a fearful death,
and now I wish to save y0u, so bid you not
to g8 nfiar the lgorthbut to fly whille you can,”
erie arie arr earnest grasping
the scout’s  Vy y ‘

 

She saw his look of surprise, and then he
asked:

“ But why should I not go to the fort,
Miss Du Barry ‘2"

“Because—because—oh! Mr. Decatur,
you are denounced as a murderer.”

He started and turned deadly pale, but
asked in a calm voice:

‘;Who dares make the charge against
me.”

“The one you are said to have slain.”

“And who is he?”

“ 'l‘lic hunter, Bronze Bill.”

“ And he is dead ‘2"

ll ‘76s.”

“And before dying said that I was his
murderer?" ,

“ He did.”

"’I‘his is remarkable.” '

“ He made such a confession while dying,
and, although my father did not wish to 118'
lieve it, and your other friends too bad faith
in you, circumstantial evidence is fearfully
strong against you, and already you are
called a murderer, and you will be shot as
such if you go to the fort, so I warn you not
to go.” , ,

“But I will go, Miss Du Barry, and face
those charges!” '

l “ Pray do not; for your death will fol-
ow.

“You are not bound to the fort by any
ties, othea than as a scout, and the world is
large.

“ You can go elsewhere and live, and save
your life. ' ‘

“,You served me well once, and it was in
the hope of meeting on, and warning you
that I rode out so fzyir on the prairie this
afternoon.

“ Now, I beg of you, do not go there.”

"I thank you from my inmost he’art, Miss
Du Barry, for your nobleness in warning me
of danger in store for me.

“ But I am not guilty of the charge against
me. and I shall go to the fort and face the
consequences, be they what theyvmay.

“'Will you mount our own horse, for he
is tamed now. or she l I transfer your saddle
to my animal?"

“I will'ride the mustang, thank you. but
I am sorry you will not heed my warning.

“Who is that coniin ?”

“ A poor boy, the on y survivor of a mas-
sacre that occurred below here some fort
miles, and the pack-horse he leads carries a l
of the worldly goods belongin to him.

“ Let me aid you to your en die.

As lightly as though she had been a child he
placed her in her saddle. and mounted his
own horse, just as Benito rode up; the three
turned the heads 0f their horse toward the

     

Dead 81:01: Dandy.

 

fort, Marie Du Barry pale and anxious be-
cause Dead Shot Dandy would not heed her
warning of peril to him.

CHAPTER VIII.
TRE RETURN.

WHEN the party of three rode over a roll
of the prairie, that brou ht them in full
view of the fort, they su denl came upon
Colonel Du Barry and several 0 cers riding
in hot haste, their mission being to search
for the maiden, whom the sentinel had re-
gorted as disappearing at a pace that caused

im to think her horse was running away
with her.

They came to a sudden halt upon seeing
Marie, and that she was not alone.

As the scout and his two companions rode
up, Colonel Du Barry saw that something
had gone wrong, and instantly he cried:

"Marie, my. child, you are as white as
death.

“ Pra tell me what has happened?”

“Fat er, I for ,the second time owe my
life to your chief of scouts, for he saved me
from a horrible fate.

“See! across the prairie yonder you ob-
serve those dark objects?

“The are wild mustangs. and were shot
by Mr. ecatur to save me, for this wicked
brute ran with me to take his place at the
head of the herd once more.

“Mr. Decatur saw my danger. and, at the
risk of his own life. saved mine.”

“Great Heavenl what a death you have
escaped, and you, Dead Shot, have the
warmest thanks a father can give," and the
colonel's voice trembled as he spoke, while
he did not look the scout in the face.

Then, in a few words. Marie told all as
it had happened. and added:

“Father. to show my gratitude, I told Mr.
Decatur of the charges made against him,
and frankly I tell you, I urged him to fly
and save his life, but he would not do so."

“ Would to God he had," almost groaned
the colonel, while Marie continued:

“He said that he was guiltless of the
charge. and would go on to the fort and
take the consequences."

“Decatur, from my soul [hope on can
prove that you are innocent, but :t looks
ve black against you just now, and I must
hol Iyou as a prisoner.

“ ieutenant Frayue. take charge of the
scout, and upon our arrival at the fort, put
him in the guard-house."

” Yes, sir.” answered the young officer.

“ Now. who have you here?" and Colonel
Du Barry turned to the Boy Bugler.

Instantl Dead Shot Dand answered, as
he hande his weapons coo ly over to the
, young omcer; ‘

 

 

“This youth, Colonel Du Barry, I found
in Smoky Timber Motto.

“ I was scouting in the neighborhood last
night. heard a bugle playing ‘ Home, Sweet
Home.‘ and riding it . expectin to find a
military camp, this y was a 1 who met
me.

“ He was with his parents. sister and bro-
ther, and several others, on the way to his
father's ranch, when their camp was attacked
by the Rio Grande Marauders.

“ The boy was absent, searching for his
pony. and thus escaped the massacre—"

" Massacre?"

“ Yes, Colonel Du Barry, for all were mas-
sacred excepting his sister. a maiden of ’sev-
enteen. whose body we could not find, and I
auppose she was carried 01! by the Marau-

ers. ’

“ This is terrible. indeed.”

“ It is, sir, and I found the poor boy seated
by his desolate camp-fire. playing his cornet,
and a touching si ht it was.

“He had burie his arents, and together
We placed the other he ies in the grave, and
then I brou ht him with me, knowing that,
with his ski l as a bugler, you would he anx-
ious to give him a place in the regiment.”

“Indeed. yes; but when did this occur,
my Iioor boy?" said the colonel, kindly.

“ hree nightsa 0, air."

" And when di you leave Smoky Tim
her?"

“This morning, sir, about sunzise,” sn-
swered the youth.

“ And when did you find him, Dead
Shot?"

“ Shortly after dark last night, Colonel Du

..

Barry;
" here were you the day and night be.
fore ‘2"

“Upon the prairie. sir, scouting along a
trail which I now know was made by the
same band of Marauders who attacked this
boy‘s train."

“ How many were there in the band 2"

“The trail showed about twenty, sir." .

" And you could find no trace of the body
of this brave boy’s sister!"

“None, sir."
“ What is your theory regarding her dis-
appearance ?"

“ That she has been carried 01! to be held
for ransom."

“ Well, I shall at once send Captain Lorne
upon their trail. for you can tell him where
to strike it, and endeavor to rescue her "

“ I will gladly go with the captain, sir."

“ No. Dead Shot, for you are under arrest ‘

on a severe charge.”

“ Ah! I had forgotten that,” was the cool
re if of the scout:

It ding by the side of the young boy, 091°-

   

    

 

|
i

 

3?

Dead Shot Dandy. 13

 

nel- Du Barry found out his name and all the
particulars regarding him, and became so
much interested in him that he said, as they
neared the fort:

‘ “ Well, Benito, you shall have the berth of
my bugler who went home on sick leave the
other day, and you may rest assured that l

, will do all in my power to find your sister
g and restore her to you."

L “And Mr. Decatur, sir, you will not pun-
ish him for a crime which he cannot be guilty

g of?” urged the boy.

i “ We 1, 1 hope he can prove his innocence

before the court-martial who try him as he

has before me, “was the answer.

/ A moment after the party rode into the
fort. and Duke Decatur was led away to the
guard-house and put in irons to await his

, trial upon a charge which, if found guilty,

; would send him to his grave.

 

CHAPTER IX.
GUILTY on NOT GUILTY.

Tim rumor of the return of Dead Shot
Dandy spread like wild-fire through the fort,
and then floated 01! to Fort Village, where it
created a great excitement.

 Next was told the story of his rescue of

Marie Du Barry, and some who were his foes
hinted that it would be the cause of getting
him whitewashed of the charge of having
killed Bronze Bill. -

Then the massacre in Smoky Timber Motte
hecame~knowm and the circumstances of
, haw Dead Shot had found the little waif,
i and in Fort Village some were unkind enough
, to hint that it was a put-up job to clear him-
} self, his bringing the boy back with him.

* But rumors and aspersions were not facts,
and all knew that they must await the trial.

If Dead Shot had not found the boy as he
said, who, then, was the youth. and where
did he come from?

There was one thing certain. and that was
when the notes of the bugle rung through
the fort that ni ht, played by the Boy Wait.
one and all ha to admit that never before
had a bugle been made to send forth such
strains over that camp.

Whether he felt that in music he could

soothe his sorrow, no one knew, but the
poor boy ran from one melody into another,
playing with a skill that was wonderful and
a pathos that brought tears to many eyes, as
if his very soul was going out in sympathy
for his lost ones in the strains which went
floating over the prairie, filling the air with
meloddy.
' An thus for a long time the Boy Bugler
‘? sat playing his silver cornet, no one caring
to sto him, and many sorry when at last he
0 .

 

 

 

 

" Can I stay in the guard-house with Dead
Shot, sir?" he asked Onlouel Du Barry, call-
ing the scout by the name which he was
best known by in the fort. ,

“Yes, if you wish it, my boy; but you
will have to be locked in with him.”

"I do not care for that, sir, and I will be
up bright and early in the morning.”

"Yes, for Captain Lorne may return by
that time with some news of the Marauders.”

And so Benito Dewhurst went to the
guard-house and slept on the cot next to
Dead Shot, after the two had talked together
until a late hour.

But before sunrise he was out and attend-
ing to his duties, just as Captain Lorne rode
into the fort, followed by his squad of cavale
rymen.

The horses were jaded and the riders
looked worn out, for they had had a long
and hard ride.

To the colonel he made his report.

He had struck the trail of the Marauders
just. where Dead Shot told him he would find
it, and had pursued it to the Rio Grande.

Across the river he dared not go; but from
those who had seen the band cross he
had learned that there was no maiden with
them.

They had many horses laden down with
booty, and had ridden hard; but out of a
dozen who had seen them, not one was there
but was positive that there were only men in
the party.

A Mexican padre had been halted by them,
and gave absolution to a dying Mexican,“ horn
the were carrying back severely wounded,
an be, too. said that there was not a prison-
er, male or female, in the clutéhes of the
Marauders.

“ What can have become of the girl I"
asked Colonel Du Barry.

“ I cannot tell, sir, unless she may have
escaped in the darkness out upon the
prairie,” answered Cecil Lorne.

“ Ah! such might- have been the case; but
alone, unarmed and a mere child, she would
soon fall a victim to wild beasts.”

"I fear that such has been her fate: but
as 1 wish a party to visit the scene of the
massacre. and then ride with all haste from
Padre’s Rock to note the time it can be rid-
den in, I will have Lieutenant Lancaster go
at once. so that he can be back for the trial
of Dead Shot to-morrow, and he can make a
circuit of Smoky Timber in search of the
missing girl.”

Half an hour after Lieutenant Lancaster
had his orders from the colonel, and with six
troopers and Monte as guide and scout, rode
away from the fort to the scene of the mas-
sacre.

Late the following morning they returned

dr'»

“as.” va 4

 

,.- am..-” an it

'14

n-v-i'mqgr‘mrsxunvva“ m—mm . ,. .

Dead Shot Dandy.

 

to the fort, just as Death Shot was summon-
ed from the guard-house for trial.

The prisbner was perfectly calm, almost
indifferent and yet showed surprise when
Captain Lorne gave the dying testimony of
Bronze Bill against him.

This testimony of a man then in his grave
_ was corroborated by Monte the scout, in a
measure, who told of the meeting with Dead
Shot, and his desire not to have him go by
Padre Rock.

Then Dead Shot was asked what he had to
say for himself, and he told of the conversa-
tion between himself and Bronze Bill, and
which opens this story.

“ My intention,” he said, “was to go up
to Padre‘s Rock, and thence up the river to
see if the Marauders had crossed at any

oint.

“ But I struck a trail two miles off which
I followed, and it led me far to the south.

“ I camped that night at Lone Tree
Spring. and the next night it was that I was
at Smoky Timber, where I found Benito, the
Boy Bugler, which is over seventy miles
from Padre’s Rock, coming by the fort, and
further, if I had to go around the Red Chap~
arral.

“I have not been near Padre’s Rock for
ten days, and alTI have to say is that Bronze
Bill died a perjured liar, that man, Mexican
Monte. lives with the lie in his throat when
he says that he met me.”

Monte dropped his hand upon his revolver
at these bold words, but nick as a flash he
was covered by a weapon In the hands of the

Boy Bugler, who cried in tones as clear as"

his bugle notes;

“ No firing upon a man in ironsl”

All started at the ringing words, which
brought upon the boy the gaze of every eye,
and Colonel Du Barry who had not noticed
Monte’s action, said sternly:

" How dare you touch a weapon, sir, in
the presence of this court martial?"

V " I was cut by the lie thrown in my teeth.
sir, and I humbly beg the pardon of the
Honorable Court.” humbly said Monte,
though his dark face flushed one instant and
became livid the next with suppressed pas-
sion.

Then the Boy Bugler said, with 'a manner
that was not expected of one of his age:

“ And I too humbly beg pardon, but I
‘- feared the coward would kill Dead Shot."

” It is granted, my boy; and ifyou. Monte,
cannot control your temper, I will have you
disarmed," said the colonel.

“ I will not ofiend again,” was the low
reply. .
“ t is hard, Decatur, to believe that a
dying man would speak falsely,” said an
officer of the court-martial.

 

“it is strange indeed. sir, that a man
would die with a lie upon his .ips; but
Bronzc Bill did so die when he said he saw
me at Padre's Rock.”

Benito then told of the scout's arrival at
the motte.

“ Was his horse tired?” he was asked by
the prosecuting officer.

“ No, sir, but on the contrary he seemed
not at all jaded.”

“ How do you know this?"

" While Dead Shot was dig ing the
graves, I unsaddled his horse. an staked
him out with my animals.” »

“ Did he speak of where he had been the
day before?”

“ Yes. sir, he told me when he had left the
fort, and how he had intended going to the
north, but struck a trail which brought him
to Smoky Timber, and he said that Provi-
dence had guided his way so that he found
me."

“And you rode the distance. Lieutenant
Lancaster, from Smoky Timber to Padre's
Rock?” asked the prosecuting officer.

“ I did, sir.”

“ What distance would ou call it???

“ Coming by the 'fort fuily seventy miles.”

“ And by the Red Chaparral 7"

“Over one hundred miles.” .

Then the oflicers of the court-martial
co_1(11sulted together, and Colonel Du Barry
sax : .

“ Decatur, circumstantial evidence, were
we not inclined to mercy, would condemn
you to death, for the charge against you came
from the lips of a dying man, and Monte,
here, says that he, too, saw you near Padre's
Rock.

“ Besides. Lieutenant Lancaster affirms
that the distance from Padre’s Rock and
Smoky Timber could have been ridden by
you under pressure, in the time between the
killing of Bronze Bill and your arrival at the
scene of the massacre of the Benito family.

“ Benito says, though, that your horse was
not jaded. and I rode to-day myself. accom-
panied by a scout, to where you said you
turned from your course north, and followud
your trail for miles circling around to the
south. and this is in your favor.

“ You are such a remarkable looking man.
that I know .of no one upon these prairies
that could impersonate you.

“ Yet. under all the circumstances, and
the aid you gave m daughter in her dire
peril, the court-inertia spares your life. but
reduces you to the ranks among the scouting
company, of which Monte is now made
chief. '

“And one word more—if you can clear
up this mystery and shadow hanging over
you, all of us will be delighted to have you

 

 

’ IM_A3_.;~____T.WWM 

 

 

 

 

 

" the hills, and the young captain boldly de-

Dead Shot Dandy. ' 15

 

no so, and more, you shall be reinstated to
yom- position of chief of scouts.”

Dead Shot Dandy merely bowed in silence.
while Benito sprung forward and grasped his
hands, at the same time unlocking his irons
with the key handed him by the sergeant of
the guard.

Turning haughtin upon his heel, With no
thanks for his life to the court-martial, the
scout strode away to his quarters, followed
by Benito, while Monte remarked, in a tone
loud enough for all to hear:

“That man means me mischief, because,
is in, duty bound, I told the truth about

rm.

CHAPTER X.
IAN UNERRING suo'r.

AFTER the trial of Dead Shot Dandy, no
one could notice any change in him as to
whether he felt his having been reduced from
chief to an ordinary scout.

His manner to all was just the same as be-
fore, and to Monte, the new chief, he was
ever respectful, and obeyed every command
with promptness.

He had asked to go off on a scout, and
had been absent for days, but made no im-
portant report upon his return, though he
and Benito were seen earnestly conversing
together upon their return.

But those two were always together when
not on duty, and had become inseparable
pards. the man loving the boy as though he
were his own brother, while Benito seemed
to idolize the scout.

'l‘he colonel and officers all wished to treat
Dead Shot well, for few of them could be-
lieve him guilty; but he avoided all of them
as much as possible, and, when not on duty,
kept at his own quarters.

One day Captain Lorne started forth upon
a scouting expedition with fifty troopers and
twenty scouts, under command of Monte.

Benito, the Boy Bugler also went along,
and the party were Well mounted and thor-
oughly armed, while they carried provisions
for a week’s stay.

Striking an Indian trail, they followed to

tel-mined to attack the red-skins in their vil-
legs, which Dead Shot reported was but two
miles away.

Of course he knew that the Indian war-
riors outnumbered him ten to one, but then
he knew his men, and expected much from
a surprise.

it was just at dawn when they rode down

 

upon the camp, Benito’s bugle ringing forth
a wild and thrilling charge.

» The first man into the camp was Dead l
Shot Dandy, and all who followed him saw

two warriors go down beneath his unerring
aim.

Surprised as they were, the rcdskins did
not quickly rally, and the village was nearly
won before they made a Very determined
stand.

But then a hundred warriors banded‘to-
gether and made a desperate charge upon
the troopers, pressing them back before
them in a huddled mass.

In vain did Cecil ‘Lorne strive to break
their front with his troopers and scouts, for
on they came with revengeful cries, and.
hemmed in as they were with a cliff behind
them, it looked as if a massacre must cer-
tainly follow.

But suddenly, in the rear of the Indians
came two horsemen, charging at full speed,
their reins in their teeth, and a revolver in
each hand.

Then merry was the music of those four
revolvers, and every shot told with such
deadly effect, that the red-skins wavered,
broke, and fled to the right and left.

Just then, however, a horse went down
pinioning his rider beneath him, while a huge
chief, maddened with desperation, sprung
upon the helpless man. i

It' was Monte, the chief of scouts, and an-
other second would have ended his earthly
career, when a bullet, sent from a revolver
twenty fyards distant, crashed throu h the
brain 0 the red-skin, who dropp dead
upon the body of his intended victim.

Quickly his men drew their chief out
from beneath his foe’s body, and springing
to his feet he cried:

“ What friend of mine fired that shot?”

“Dead Shot Dandy," answered a dozen
voices in chorus.

Monte made no reply, but turned away
muttering:

“I have feared that he would kill me in
the fight, and 10! he has saved my life.”

And those two who had also saved the day
were none other than Dead Shot Dandy and
the Boy Bugler. who had dashed away from
the command in pursuit of flying red-skins;
and returned to aid their comrades or perish
with them. , .

When the, village was in his possession
Cecil Lorne warmly thanked the scent and
the Boy Bugler for their gallant services,
but. though Monte stood by, not one Word
did he utter to the man who had saved his
life by his long and unerring shot.

With the prisoner, wounded and booty
of the Indian camp, the little command
started upon their return to the fort, greatly
elated over their victory, and the lesson

l which they had taught the red-skins.

“ Where is Dead Shot'fl’ asked Monte, as
they rode along on the trail to the fort.

imam! new “at.

 

 

 

 

i
a.
3

mummy

.. pies-4.2454». {he

  

     .

yam «Imam»...- 42m‘:..wmrnwrww Airy-ifluiflzwwa’tmwi‘t "'

16

.Q» I -o __,», are. An»

“mp-m. "cw-x" w, H  r

Dead Shot Dandy.

 

“ He asked my permission to go upon the
trail of the Indians that escaped, to find out
where there was another village located," an-

, swered Captain Lorne.

“I wish you had spoken to me, Captain
Cecil, and I would have detailed you a far
better man.” said the chief of the scouts,
evidently annoyed.

Cecil Lorne’s face flushed, and he said,
quickly: '

“I am not in the habit, sir, of consulting
my inferiors as to m duty, and as for a bet-
ter man than Dead hot Dandy, there is not

> his ’equal as a scout on these prairies."

Monte wisely held his peace and rode on
in silence, for Cecile Lorne was not a man
to trifle with.

CHAPTER XI.
THE DOUBLE MYSTERY.

THERE was certainly rejoicing in Fort
Blank, when Captain Cecil and his men ar-
rived with the account of their victory.

The Indians had not been dealt a severe
blow of late, and had become very troubles
some, while they had managed to elude pur-
suit in nearl every instance.

All were orced to admit that Dead Shot
Dandy had been the cause of the victory, by
leading the command to the Indian village,
and had then. with Benito, the Boy Bulger,

- saved the party from a massacre, and, from

Cecrl Lorne he had received full credit.

Also. it was told how he had saved the life
of Monte, the chief of scouts, and the very
ungracious way in which the favor had been
received.

The second night after their return to the
post, Monte was seated in his adobe
cabin, playing cards with some congenial
spirits.

The doors and windows were open, and
{he tin sconce upon the wall gave ample

ight.

Suddenly, following quickly upon the
distant report of a rifle, a bullet whirred
into the cabin, just grazing the check of the
chief scout and drawing blood.

All sprung to their feet in alarm, while the
Mexican, feelin that he was not seriously
harmed, steppe forward and be an digging
the bullet out of the clay wall w ere it had
buried itself.

Soon it was in his hand, and unmarred by
its'contact with the Well.

“It came from the timber yonder, and
there is but one rifle in this camp that can
can a bullet as true at such a distance,” re—
mar ed Monte.

“ What gun are thet?” asked a scout.

"You all know the rifle, and to whom it
belongs. .

;

 

“ When the man returns to camp I will see
if the bullet fits his rifle," was the reply. ‘

“ You hints thet it are Dead Shot," said
one.

“ Yes.”

“ Waal, yer hints wrong, fer he hain’t thet
kind 0’ a man," was the indignant reply of
the man who had befriended the absent
scout. ‘

“Waal, we shall see.” '

“lWe’ll see, pard, thet you is on the wrong
trai .

“Why it hain’t three da 5 since he saved
yer life, an’ durned ef yer ed ther narve ter
thank him fer it."

“ Keno Kit, do you wish to quarrel with
me?" asked Monte.

“ No, I hain’t pertickeler about it one way
or t'other; but I are ertickeler thet yer
don’t accuse a man like cad Shot 0’ fightin’
mean." ,

“Well, drop it— Oh! boy, what do you
want?’ ‘

The last remark of Monte was to Benito,
who met then entered the cabin.

“ come from Colonel Du Barry, man, to
order you to take ten men and go ed on a
twenty-mile circuit of the fort, as a ranchero
has arrived with reports that Indians are
scouting in the vicinity," answered Benito,
emphasizing the man, as he did not like the
way Monte called him boy.

“ All right, boy, I will start at once, say
to the colonel."

“ Very well, man; but has anything scared
you, for you look as white as a ghost?”

Monte muttered an oath, while Keno Kit
said provokingly:

“ He hev been shooted at from over in ther
timber yonder.”

“ Shot at?”

“ Yas, Benito, an’ be got it ther on ther
cheek, Whar yer sees thet scratch.”

I “ Yes, I see.”

“ We was sittin’ heur pla in’ a peaceful
game“ 0’ keerds, when a bul et sailed in. an’ '
ther chief do say thet he thinks it were Dead
Shot Dandy thet did it."

“ If you say that Dead Shot Dand would
fire a shot at you. behind your bac , Mexi-
can Monte. you lie,” cried the Boy Bugler,
his eyes flashing.

With a curse the scout sprung toward the
boy, but quick as a flash two weapons cov-
ered him, one in the hands of Benito, the
other held by Keno Kit.

” Hold, Mexican Monte. or I will kill
you," cried Benito, while Keno Kit said:

" Pard, I hain’t goin' ter see a. man fight a
boy ’thout chippin in, so let up.”

“Keno Kit, you are on the road to have
trouble with me.

“Put up your weapon, for I meant no

 

 

Dead 5110!: Dandy. I?

 

harm to the boy,” said Monte livid with
rage. -

“But I meant harm to the man, and it’s
war between us, Mexican Monte, whenever
you like.

“Keno Kit, I thank you for your kind
act,” and Benito wheeled upon his heel and
left the cabin.

All present, and there were half a dozen in
the cabin, expected trouble to follow
between the chief and his scout; but instead,
Monte said quiet] :

“Now, Keno it, I wish on to get nine
others besides yourself, and be ready in
fifteen minutes to start upon the trail.”

“ All right, pard,” and Keno Kit left the
cabin.

Soon after Monte and his scouts rode out
upon the trail, and the camp settled down to
repose.

But soon after the sentinel halted an ap—
proaching horseman, who was riding in
haste for the fort.

“I am Dead Shot Dandy, sentinel. and I
have important news for the colonel,” was
the reply.

Soon after he was admitted to the room of
Colonel Du Barry. to whom he reported
that he had been dogging the steps of three
men, and following them to the timberbeyond
the post had there killed two of them, but
the third had escaped.

“ They were Marauders, sir, as you will
see by these things which .I took from their
bodies,” and he handed to Colonel Du Barry
some papers and bags of buckskin, contain-
ing money, jewelry and a number of valua-
ble litttle trinkets.

The colonel glanced at the papers and cried
suddenly:

“ Hal these were taken from the father of
Benito, Dead Shot.

“ Call the boy, and at the same time send
a party often the bodies of those two men.”

Dead Shot instantly obeyed, and the Boy
Bugler soon after came into the colonel’s
quarters. ' ,

“Benito, Dead Shot, killed two men to-
night and found upon them these papers, and
they bear the name of Dewhurst."

“ They belonged to my father, air,” and
the boy choked up with emotion.

” Did your parents and sister have any
jewelry with them?"

" Yes, Colonel Du Barry. ,

“ My father wore a watch and chain,
and a seal-ring, and my mother had consid-
erable jewelry, as did also in poor sister.”

“Describe their jewelry, p ease.”

f1‘he boy did so, and Colonel Du Barry

said: ..
“ Then all here belongs to you, for here is
your father’s watch, here is the ring, and

 

these things were your mother’s; but I see
nothing among them such as you describe as
belonging to your sister.”

The boy took them with a gentle touch, as
though they were most sacred as the relics of
the dead and said:

‘ “ I thank you, Colonel Du Barry. These
did indeed belong to my parents, but the
absence of anything that was my, poor sister’s

proves, as you have told me, that she must'

have escaped the massacre to be lost and
devoured by Wild beasts.”

“ A better fate, my boy, horrible as it
seems, than to have been left in the power of
the merciless Marauders.

“Give those papers and trinkets to the
paymaster to keep for you, as you would be
robbed of them in your quarters— Well,
sergeant?" and Colonel Du Barry turned to
the sergeant who had gone to bring the
bodies of the two Marauders into camp.

“There are no bodies in the timber, sir.”

“ What?" ‘

, We searched every foot of the timber, sir,
and there is no dead body to be seen.”

“ This is astonishing. _

“ I will go myself with you, sergeant,”
and Dead Shot departed with the soldier.

But in half an hour he returned to make
the same report, greatly to the amazement of
Colonel Du Barry, for a s rch with torches
and lanternst reveale
the timber.

 

' CHAPTER XII.
run con. TIGHTENING.

EARLY in the afternoon of the day follow-
ing the night of the mysterious shot and the
spiriting awav from the timber of the dead

bodies of the‘two Marauders, Monte and his I

party of scouts returned to the fort.

Instantly the chief sought an interview
with the colonel, and finding Captain Cecil
Lorne with him, asked for a private inter-
View.

“ y what you have to say, Monte, before
the captain.”

Monte scowled, but said:

“ I obeyed your orders, Colonel Du Barry,
and made the circuit of the for .”

“ With what result?”

“I found several different trails, freshly
made. but none of sufficient size to give cause
for alarm, as not one of them was made by
over half a dozen men.” 7

“ Indians or whites?” - ,.

“ Both, sir, as there were shod» and unshod
horses ridden.” _

"The ranchero doubtless got alarmed by
rumors, for he reported numerous bands of
Indians skulking about.”

\‘

no dead body in

 

g
E
,!

 

{we}; '9‘ ‘1 .3

 

 

i

 A ,4, fi'a'f'féifl  «Max. 1‘

 

18 Dead Shot Dandy.

 

“No, colonel, such is not the case, at
least within the circuit which you bade me

0.

“But, sir. I wish to report a curious cir»
cumstancc."

, “ Well, Monte, what is it?"

“ I was playing cards with a party in my
cabin—" -

“I believe you are as good a card-player
as you are a scout,” said the colonel with a
smile.

“ A scout’s pay, sir, is so small that I add
to mine by gambling,” was the frank con-
fession.

“ Well, what was the curious circum-
stance?”

“I was fired upon, while seated with my
back in the open door, and in adirectline
with the light.”

“Fired upon ‘2”

“ Yes, sir.”

" By whom 7”

“That is yet to be found out, sir, but I
have my suspicions.

" See. the bullet grazed in cheek here.
and this is the little piece of feed intended
for my head.”

Colonel Du Barry took the bullet, and
Monte went on:

“ It sunk into the .adobe wall, and I cut it
out.”

“But where was the shot fired from?”

“ The timber, sir, to the south of the
camp. ”

“ All! that was a long shot."

“True, sir, but it was fired from along
range rifle. and the splendid aim shows the
one who sighted it was a dead shot.”

“Then en sus ect some one?"

“I do, olonel u Barry.”
"Whom?"
" Dead Shut Dandy.”

“Hal do you mean it?"

” I mean that the bullet you hold flts his
rifle alone, of all those in camp."

“ This looks serious.”

“ It is serious to me, sir.” -

" But, Monte. what reason would he have
for killing you?”

"I appeared eagainst him upon his trial
when he murder Bronze Bill, and—”

“ Hold. Mexican Monte, you shall not as-
sert before me that Duke Decatur murdered
Bronze Bill.

“Say when he was accused of it,” hotly
said Cecil Lorne.

r “ As you please, Captain Lorne, when he
was accused of murdering Bronze Bill, I ap»
peared a inst him."

"‘ Yet e saved your life only a few days
ago.” -

" True, colonel, but I believe the shot was
an accidental one."

 

“ I saw him fire it, sir, and it was not no-
cidental,” said Cecil Lorne.

"Well, gentlemen, I stand in his shoes, as
you know. ’

“Then why did he not let the Indian kill
you, for then, after his gallant conduct and
services, 1 would have made him chief
again?" remarked Colonel Du Barry.

“I have more to report, sir,” said Monte,
feeling that he was accusing a man before
his friends.

“ Well, sir?”

"As we left last night on our scout, we
went through the timber, for l wished to see
if any one was encam cd there.

“Finding no one, halted and was light-
ing it cigar with a match. when a shot was
fired from a distance directly at me, and it
Was so well-aimed that it knocked the weed
from between my teeth.

“ At the flash of the rifle, which was fired
from quite a distance away, half of my men
cried aloud: ' '

“ ‘Dead Shot!’ ”

“Hal they recognized him?”

" Yes, sir.”

" This looks most serious, Lorne.” 7

“It looks so, sir, but may be explained
away. ‘

“At what time was this, Monte?" asked
the captain.

“About nine o’clock. sir." -

“ And at what time did Dead Shot come
to you, colonel?" continued Captain Lorne.

“ About ten. I believe, for I was just re-
tiring; but did you give chase, Monte?”

“ Yes, sir, and his horse ran away from
us easily, and Dead Shot rides the only ani-
mal that I know of which can drop mine in
that way.”

“Monte, Iadmit it looks serious for De-
cntur, and I will tell you} what he reported
last night. ~

.”He told me that after leaving Captain
Lorne’s party, he went on into the mountains
until he struck another Indian camp.

“Then he reconnoitcred until he found a
way by which the village could be reached
at night and attacked.

“ Returning on his way to the fort, he saw
three men, noneof them mounted, or if so,
he did not see where their horses were con-
cealed.

“ He dogged their steps, and, convinced
that they were Marauder spies, ran in upon
them, killing two, while the third escaped.

“ Upon them he found papers and trinkets
of considerable value belongin to Benito
Dewhurst, my Boy Buglcr, and gave them
up to him. ‘

“ Then I sent for the bodies to see if any
of the command would recognize them, and
they could not be found."

43



.w 1  new s’w,m..‘wt,..o,,

g. swam: A ;

.uaw‘mme ..

E r“.

4

.o,

u" I>i§<‘.& {Af~v..M:a.

.cwkrirs’: n :

I fad.

Dead Shot Dandy. 19

 

u

“ What did Dead Shot Dandy do with
them?”

“ Some one spirited them away.”

Monte shook his head doubtineg and said:

“ Colonel, I know that you and Captain
Lorne are the friends of Dead Shot; but I am
confident on are deceived in him, and if
you give him the rope, ere long he will hang
himself."

“ By" Heaven! but I will try it.

“ Let not a word of this be spread through
the camp,- Monte, and mu your men not to
speak of the shot fired at you last night after
you left the fort.

“ Then I will have Dead Shot Dandy
watcned, and, if I can detect him in guilt he
shall hang,r for it, I assure you.”

“ As he well deserves to do if guilty,”said
Captain Lorne, and Monte arose and departed
from the colonel’s’ quarters, convinced that
before long Dead Shot Dandy would run his
neck into the hangman’s noose.

“ The bodies?”
Yes ”

 

CHAPTER XIIL
THE scour’s FRIENDS.

DEAD SHOT DANDY sat alone in his quar-
ters. upon the evening after Monte‘s return.

He had had orders to be ready to march at
dawn, to the Indian country, to guide Cap-
tain Lorne and alarge force to the Indian
village he had found, and he was putting his
weapons in order. .

His pard 'in his camp quarters was Benito,
but the youth was then up about headquar-
ters, where his duties kept him until late.

Suddenly in through the open door glided
a familiar form, and quickly she closed it
behind her.

She wore a heavy shawl, and her head was

' muflied up in a large Spanish vail.

A' first lance, as he arose to his feet,
Den “Shot t nought it was Nita the Mexican
maid of Marie Du Barry; but 'as the veil
was thrown back he discovered with surprise
that it was none other than the colonel‘s
dau hter herself.

“ iss Du Barry, this is indeed an unex-
pected honor," he said, hardly knowing what
to say .

f‘ t is a duty, Mr. Decatur, not an honor,
for I have come to place you upon your
guard.”

5'1 do not understand you, Miss Du
Bar ."

“ will at once explain. .

“You have foes in this camp who are
plottinga ainst you.

“But, r. Decatur, though appearances

“Of what am I now accused, Miss Du
Barry?” asked the scout.

"1 will tell you all.

“ I overheard this afternoon, while reclin-
ing in the hammock on the piazza of my
father’s quarters, a story told by Monte to
my father and Captain Lorne.

“ It was to the effect that Monte was shot
at last night, while playing cards in his
cabin, and the bullet grazed his cheek; and
buried itself in the adobe wall.

“Monte dug it out, and says that it fits
your rifle only, among all at the fort."

mine in the command,” was the cool reply.
“ And more, he says the shot was fired
from the timber to the south of us, a dis-
tance which your rifle will carry.”

v “True, my rifle will kill where other wea-
pons will not carry."

"Again, he told that he was lighting a
cigar in the timber last night, after starting
out upon a scout, and a bullet. cut the weed
from his lips, but that all saw by the flash
who fired the shot.” ‘

“And who was it?”

“ The scouts said that it was you."

“ Indeed! they were mistaken, for I am no
assaSsin,” was the haughty reply.

“ So I believe, Mr. Decatur: but under the
circumstances, you must admit that appear-
ances are against you, especially when you
could not find the bodies of the two men you
killed." '

“ I cannot understand that affair, Miss Du
Barry, for I always shoot for the head. and
both of those men had bullets in their skulls
when lbent over them, and took the valu-
ables and papers from them.”

“ Well, you know, Mr. Decatur, that I am
your friend, and as my father told Monte he
intended to have you constantly watched, I
decided to commit the unmaidenly act of
coming to your (ahin and placing you on
your guard.”

“Miss Du Barry, I cannot tell you how I
respect you for your bold act, and how deep-
ly thank you for your kindness, and your
trust in me.

“ Some day I hope to prove my appreci-
ation of it," and the scout held forth his
hand, which Marie grasped Warmly. and
then. Wrapping,r her vail about her head and
face once more she glided quickly out into
the darkness.

Dead Shot stepped out also and saw that
there was'no one near to see her, and then re-
entered his cabin and resumed his work of
cleaning his weapons.

" Say, pard, is you in?" and the door open-
ing admitted Keno Kit.

 

areterribl against 011,1 will frankly tell
you that do not be ieve you are guilty."

“Yes, Kit, be seated.”

“No, Pard Dead Shot, I hev only a leetle

“Yes, there is not another weapon like _

1
,.
l

 

..mm: ,A: Amy... . :‘L.

‘bN-im‘o'hm -.. “We.” _mz_c.m'4~.m.>4 a h ‘

Mam. ..-,..... fits-“Etc. ; ' i

 

20 Dead Shot Dandy.

 

minute ter stay, fer I doesn’t wish ter be
seen talkin’ ter yer jist now.

" But I has come ter whisper to yer thet
Monte, durn him, are playin’ lively fer your
seal ."

“Shh! he can have it, if he can take it."

“ He don’t intend ter fight squar' fer it. an’
I only wishes yer had hit him last night.”

“ What do you mean. Keno Kit?" sternly
asked Dead Shot Dandy. . .

“[ means that I this yer part when ther
shot come at him, when he was playin’
keerds in ther cabin.

“ But when er let drive at him, as he
was lightin’ his cigar, then I seen yer my-
se ."

“ You saw me, Keno Kit?”

“ Fact.”

“ No, you did not."

“Pard, it were but a instant by ther flash
0’ ther rifle; but it did light yer up, horse an'
all.”

“ And you mean to say that I fired an
assassin's shot at Monte?”

“ I seen it!"

" I tell you, Keno Kit. that you are mis-
taken. and before this I have believed you
my friend."

“I is er friend, Dead Shot; but at yer
says yer idn’t flre ther shot, then I doubts
my optics, rather than your word, fer yer
hain't been ther man since I hev kno wed yer,
ter lie, tho’ I confess I lies like a auctioneer
at times."

“ Keno Kit, I tell you that though you
may have thought you saw me, you are mis-
taken, for I have never pulled trigger on
Mexican Monte.

" When I do, I shall kill him.”

" I hope yer won't be very long in pull-
ing. pard.”

Dead Shot laughed lightly, and Keno Kit
departed, happy in having placed the scout
upon his guard against a foe who he knew
meant him evil.

He had been gone but a short while when
BEIII‘RO entered, and his face wore an anxious
loo .

“ Well, little pard, What is it?” asked Dead
Shot Dandy.

“i have bad news for you, Dead Shot,”
was the answer, as the youth sat down. by
his side.

" Indeed] bad news seems to be an epi~
demic just now, ” answered the scout, with a
smile.

“I don’t wish to be thought mean, Dead
Shot; but I listened to—day to whatMonte
told Colonel Du Barry."

“That i had shot at him twice.”

“ Well, he hinted at something he had told
him earlier in the afternoon, about your
shooting at him; but what I heard him say

 

was that he had come back to tell the colonel
something that had occurred to him "

“ What was that. Benito?"

“I heard him say:

“ ‘Colonel, I have a theory to work on,
which, taken in connection with the shots
which [am convinced were fired at me by
Dead Shot. looks most suspicious.’ ”

“ Well. did he divulge his theory?"

“ He said that you had brought in papers
and jewelry that bad belonged to my parents,
and told how you had gotten them from the
bodies of two men whom you had killed, and
whom you knew to be members of the Ma-
rauder hand."

“ Well. Benito?"

" He went on to as that, as the bodies
could not be found, it naked as though no
men had been killed.”

‘t Ah!"

“And more, he said that as you had dis-
covered me in the Smoky Timber and brought
me to camp, he thought that you were secret-
ly a member of the band of Marauders.”

“Hal said he so?” .

“ Yes.”

“Go on, please."

" He said that you had doubtless been with
the Marauders who had attacked our train,
and took as your boot the things you gave
the colonel last night or me.”

“ Why should i give them up?"

” He thought that your conscience made
you do so, and that the story of the killing
of the two men was merely an excuse to give
that you might account for their being in
your possessron."

“ It certainly is a well-told stor , Benito."

“ But what said the coionel to t is?"

“ That he could not doubt on until per-
fect roof of your guilt was gl’ven to him.”

“ thank him for that.”

“ And Captain Lorne said the same, and
more, he told Monte that he believed he was
anxious to have you out of the way."

“ And what says my friend Benito to these
charges?"

“Why do you ask me. Mr. Decatur, for
you know I look upon anything said against
you as false." '

“ Bless you for those words, my boy.

“But now turn in, for we must make an
early start in thex morning,” and soon after
the cabin was in darkness. and the scout and
the Boy Bugler were serenely sleeping in spite
of the circumstantial evidence tightening
about the neck of the Dead Shot Dandy.

CHAPTER XIV.
run near scon'r.
AT the appointed hour, the command, over
a hundred strong, pulled out of the fort upon
the raid to the mountains.

 

'r'waivernwmutya‘ . e

“momma t

l‘u‘YP’aI-t: «mam-“-  u .

mm'mummg .

Dead Shot Dandy. 81

 

- Every trooper was picked, and so was

every scout. for the service in hand. while'

the best animals at the fort had been selected
for the work, with extras taken along for
supplies and ammunition, and to supply the
place of any horse that might break down.

At a quick trot Cecil Lorne led the way,
Dead Shot Dead riding upon one side of
him and the Bay ugler on the other.

Then followed the troopers, a hundred in
number, and Monte, with thirty scouts
brought up the rear.

Coming in sight of the mountains, they
struck into a trail running toward the river,
as though going in that direction, so as to
throw an Indian scout off the scent, should
one be watching them from the hills.

But they halted before. sunset, staked out
their horses, and went into camp, apparent-
ly for the night. ,.

But, as soon as darkness came on the fires
were built up, and mounting quickly, they
dashed away for the hills. ‘

It was a ride of two hours to the foot-
hillsfiand there Dandy Shot took the lead,
the other scouts following in single file.

A couple of hours more and Dead Shot
Dandy came to a halt, and reported that the
Indian village was not a mile ofi, and that,
while the horses had breathing time, he
would go forward and reconnoiter.

“ I will go, sir,” said Monte, not wishing
to lose the honor. ‘

“No, Dead Shot shall go, for he it was
who discovered the camp," said Captain
Lorne quickly, and in a tone that admitted
of no argument. -

Then Dead Shot Dandy rode forward and
Benito asked permission to accompany him,
saying:

“ lam so anxious to learn all I can about
scouting, Captain Lorne.

“ Go with him then, Benito. and as you
are in such good hands, I need not say be
careful.

A moment after Keno Kit glided up to
Cecil Lorne’s side and said in a whisper:

“ Cap’n. Monte are a-going too. ”

Instantly Cecil Lorne sent a ymmg lieu.
tenant. acting as his aide, to order the chief
of scouts to report to him,

Monte soon appeared, evidently in no
pleasant humor at being thwarted in his in-
tention ot' accompanying Dead Shot and
,itoa

As if not aware of his intention, Cecil
Lornesaid:

“Monte, I wish you to take half of your
men. and leave the other half for Dead Shot
Dandy to command, and you attack on the
Fight. of the troopers, while he attacks or; the
e .

u  sir;  I max."

 

“ What you think, sir, has nothing to do
with it.

“ You have my orders, and I expect you
to obey them."

Monte saluted and walked away, and in
silence the command awaited the return of
Dead Shot and Benito.

Soon the Boy Bugler appeared, but he was
alone.

“ Ah, Benito, where is Dead Shot?”

“1 left him at the Indian village, sir, and
he sent me back to guide you through the
pass into the valley.”

" Why did he not come?” ‘

“ He said that the valley was narrow, with
a stream through its center, and the Indian

rtepees upon either side.

“ Also that the pass above was narrow.
and that he would make his way there, and
when you dashed into the valley he would
begin to fire with his re eating-rifle. at that
end, so as to make the Indians believe that
they were attacked from both quarters."

“A good idea; but he takes big chances
alone.”

“He'll take care of himself, sir: but he
told me to tell you that he supposed the vil-
lage numbered fifteen hundred, fully four
hundred being warriors."

“ Is there no red-skin sentinel at the pass?"

“Not now, sir.” ‘

“ You smile a though there was something
else to tell."

“ Well. sir. there were two, but I lariated
one and Dead Shot killed the other with his
knife.”

“Bravo for you, Benito; but come, we
must be on the march. and you. Keno Kit,
take command of the squad of scouts I in-
tended Desd Shot should command.”

Slowly the troopers marched forward, now
under the guidance of Boy Bugler, who
certaian had begun well as a scout, and in a
short w ile they came to the narrow gorge
in which the valley where was the Indian
village terminated. _

Upon one side lay two dark forms, which
Ben to explained had been the Indian
guards.

' Passing through the gorge, the Indian vil-
lage came in full view, with the tepees look-
ing like grim specters in the shadowy light
of dawn, for the mountain tops were already
brightening under the approach of day.

Not a soul seemed stirring in the red skin
camp, though a dog was barking viciously
in the upper end of the valley, as though his
sleep had been disturbed - ‘

' Forming his men for the charge, when all
was ready, Captain Lorne said in quick
tones:

“ Men, keep together, and use your re-
Yolvm.

v'v‘a

.1
, «s-gsw¢.~::mt~e¢$g-e- wash

‘ath .1 at». ; 

mith a.

’32 Dead Shot Dandy.

 

“Be careful to harm no women and chil~
dren.

“ Benito. blow the charge!"

Instantly the bugle sent forth its stirring
strains. and. with a cheer from the troopers
and wild yells from the scouts, the cavalcade
bore down upon the Indian village with a
rush.

With wild cries the red-skins sprung from
their couches, and seized their weapons in
alarm. ‘ -

But the avalanche of steeds, steel and fire
was upon them, and scores fell before a blow
could be struck to resist the attack. .

Captain Lorne knew, however, that the
village was much larger than he, expected to
find, and that he had a stubborn foe to deal
with, so kept his men well together, for he
sawthat the Indians were rallying at the
upper end of the ralley, and might in turn
become the assailants.

But,'just then, from the upper pass came
rattling shots and flashes, and the Indians
swayed from that direction in wild alarm.

“ Dead Shot is at worki"cried Benito, and
then all realized the good service the scout
was rendering. though singlehandcd, for the
red-skins evidently thought‘ that they were
to have a force drive down upon them
from that quarter also. ~ -

Again the bugle‘s wild notes were heard,
ringing forth the charge, and once more the
troopers swept on throu'rh the valley, driv-
ing the panic-stricken re skins before them,
and to the sides of the mountains for she]-
ter.

For awhile then, the red havoc was con-
tinued. and then the fight was ended.‘ '

Thersun had now risen above the hill-
tops, and lighted up the sickening scene,
for tepees were on fire, deed warriors and
some squaws and pappooses were lying
thick about. the village. while many a
wounded brave was chanting forth his
death-song. ‘ '

Here and there, too, lay a dead and wounded
trooper. with a man in buckskin, from
Monte’s band of scouts. and one young lieu-
tenant was among the slain.

‘Captain Cecil had- struck a telling blow
against the red-skins, but his loss. too, was
heavy. »

“ Where is Dead Shot?" asked Cecil Lorne,
as the time went by and the scout failed to
appear; -
gThe question remained unanswered, and
when noon came. he had not been seen.

Thengthe trophies of the fightwcre gath-
ered together. the dead men buried, the
squaws and children were left for the fugi-
tive warriors to return and care for. and
loaded down with his wounded, booty and
prisoners, the latter chiefs and prominent

 

warriors, Cecil Lorne gave the order for the
march back to the fort..

But it was with a sad heart that he and
Benito left the scene, as they feared that
some terrible fate had befallen Dead Shot
Dandy.

 

CHAPTER XV.
A Tan ON A TRAIL.

A GRAND reception greeted the return of
the victorious soldiers, but the joy of their
triumph was dampened by the news that
Dead Shot Dandy was either killed or a
prisoner in the hands of the revengeful red-
skins, who would be only too glad to have a
victim to satiate their hatred upon.

His noble conduct on the expedition again
caused Colonel Du Barry to feel that he
could not be the man that Monte represented
him to be, ‘

Benito, the Boy Bugler, was: also spoken
of in the highest terms. for he had become a
gem, having distinguished himself in the

ght.
The boy seemed almost crushed in spirit
by the loss of his friend, but hoped that he
would yet turn up. .

He told Colonel Du Barry that he had rid-
den to the upper pass of the valley, and had
there found the dead bod of the braves, kill-
ed with a knife, who ha evidently been the
g'uards, and had been slain by, Dead-Shot
Dandy in seeking his position from which to
fire when the charge was made.

The day after the return of the command
to Camp, Benito sought the colonel, and ask-
ed if he could be spared for several days to
go upon a search for the missing scout.
Keno Kit having signified his willingness to
accompany him.

.“ And 1 will gladly join you, Benito, if
the colonel will 'spare me a few days." put
in Cecil Lorne who was present.

“ I will spare you both, for I think it
would be safer to go with asquadron, Lorne,”
answered the colonel.

“ No, Colonel Du Barry, for we could not
move with a body of men as three of us
can." said Captain Lorne.

“ As you think best then.” -

“Keno Kit is one of the best Indian-fight-
ers I ever knew. and I am, as you know,
colonel. not a bad scout, while Benito here
is a prodigy as a prairie boy, so we will
 a strong trio on a trail, if I say so my-
se .’

“When do you wish to start, Benito?"

“Keno Kit sald to-night.”

“I am willing. so let us make all arrange-
inents and let no one know where we are go-
ing.”

Late that night three horsemen rode out of

the_stockade splendidly mounted and armed:

L,.,'yI-mr‘ mafi—M‘W‘w: '.~:

 may”?!  A a A y

 

 

 

‘ Dead Shot Dandy. 28

 

 

and their object was to find some trace of
the missing scout.

Straight to the mountains the went, Keno
Kit proving to be a perfect gui e and trailer,

- and the night after leaving the fort they

camped in the valley where had been the In-
dian village.

Now all was desolation, for the ashes of
the tcpecs, the graves of the dead and the
picked bones of the animals slain in battle
alone remained to greet the eye.

. Seeking a sheltered nook the three hunters
went into camp, and the night passed with-
out disturbance.

But bright and early they were up and ea;-
ing their breakfast, and then Keno Kit struck
the trail of the retreating Indian, and fol-
lowed it without the slightest difficulty.

All along the trail graves were here and
there, where some wounded warriors had
died on the march. r
. “ They hev gone to ther upper heart of
ther hills, an' thar we spied tha’r camp,” said
Keno Kit, whose every movement, in follow-
ing the trail, was watched by the Boy Bugler,
who was studying prairie signs with an ear—
nestness that proved his intention to learn to
become a thorough borderman. ‘

At first the trail showed that the red-skins
had moved rapidly, expecting pursuit by
the troopers; but finding no chase was made,
they went along slowly, and Keno Kit said
hadl just three days before gone over the
trai .

“ Then it cannot be far to where they are
encamped," said Captain Lorne.

“ No, cap’n, ther main village 0’ ther reds
hain’t far away, and cf they hes got Dead
Shot Dandy, we will find him thar."

“ And you do not think they have killed
him?” asked Benito. '

" Not yit, boy pard; but they hain’t gorn’
ter delay very long arter arriving in camp,
you kin sw’ar.”

” And you do not think he may have been
wounded and died, and be in some of the
graves we passed?"

“ No, Beeneeter. them was all In “an
graves. fer ef they hedn’t been, I’d hev ug
inter one, mighty quick.” _ . .

Benito felt relieved at this, yet shll feared
that the scout might be slain or _tortured to
death before they could rescue. him.

How this was to be aCCOmphshed, had not
been decided upon, as Keno Kit had said:

“Ther way ter do, pards, is just ter find
yer game and then ter kiu it.” .

That evening the three camped m a lonely
ca“You. Which the guide said was but a few
miles from the Indian camp, as he could
plainly see by the signs.

“ We’ll leave the critters heur: an’ then
perceed to go on hoof-back,” he 39,101,

r»

 

They dared not build a fire to cook any
supper, so ate what they had cold, and then,
securing their horses, set forth upon foot.

That Keno Kit was right about the Indian
village being near, was soon evident, for the
light of the fires soon became visible.

“‘1; are that big roost, whar they hes a
Willa e ther year round.
“ her bands starts out fer a run around

garter scalps, plunder an’ game, an’ gits back

up heur once every year ter winter. .
“But thar hevin’ been two 0' ther bands

hit hard ther past week or so, I guesses

others is toddlin’ back heur ter headquarters

afore winter comes on!” explained Keno

Kit.

“Well, Keno Kit, there is the village in.
that valley, so what is to be done now?”
asked Captain Lorne. ‘
dt‘i‘l’ll tell yer, cap‘n, what are ter be

1 .1)

“What?”

“ We’ll strike one o‘ ther trails leadin’ out
o’ ther willage, an’ ’twon’t be long afore we
nab some red-skins goin' in or out.

" Ef thet don’t go, then we kin look up

ther sent’nels, an? bag one o’ ’em."

“But what for?"

“You jist let me git my grip onto a red
nigger 0‘ an Injun, an‘ of I don’t make him
squ’al out whether Dead Shot are in ther vil—
lage or not, yer kin gallop me back ter ther
fort with yer spurs on.”

“Ah, I see!”

“ Yes, an’ I sees a innercent Injun comin’
yonder.

“Here, 'hoyxpard. you rlariat him as he

goes by, fer you is some on throwin’ a
rope.” ' ,

 

CHAPTER XVI.
THE WARRIOR CAPTIVE. 'r

BENITO, at the words of Keno Kit, ofiering
him the honor of lassoing the red-skin, was
delighted.

He was indeed an expert hand with the
lariat. and grasped the coil handed him by
{he old scout with intense desire to do his

est. ,

“He.are alone. pards, but that may be
more 0’ ma comin’ ahint him, so we he: her
go slow," whispered Keno Kit. —

It was moonlight, and an Indian, mounted
upon his pony, was plainly visible coming
along the trail, and on his way to the vil-
e e.

g“ I guesses he’s a hunter, fer it looks like
he hed plenty 0’ game on his pony,” said
Keno Kit, as the warrior drew nearer. ,

“ Don’t throw ontil he gits by us. paid an‘
then let him hev ther coil. ‘

“I’ll stan' yonder, so as W: lariat ther
901137.", ,

L;"»H-avé6u«‘ ..;:_;.:; “a

“My (a;

'
‘

 

 

    
    
   
   
   
   
  
  
  
    
 
  
    
    
  
  
   
   
   
  
  
   
 
   
   
  
  
  
  

24

 

4

“All right, Kit.” said Benito, coolly, and
he held his coiled lasso ready, having one end

' fastened to a tree.

Steppin some paces away, Keno Kit made
his lariat eat to a tree also, and stood ready
to catch the pony, when his rider was pulled
from his back by the boy. o

Nearer came the unsuspecting warrior,
riding along as though he was tired out with
the day’s chase, for he sat loosely upon the
back of his pony, which could now be seen
to be well weighted down with game.

Abreast of the crouching boy the pony
came. and then passed on, not even pricking
up his ears or scenting danger.

Then. out into the air the lariat was hurled,
and the noose fell about the shoulders of the
amazed Indian, who was 'erked from his
pony’s back to the groun with stunning
force.

Before he could realize what had happened
Cecil Lorne and Benito had seized him and
dra ged him into the bushes bordering the
trai , where he was quickly gagged and
bound,

In the mean time the pony had been clever-
ly captured by Keno Kit, who led him 03 of
t e trail and joined his comrades.

“ Come, we must go ter safer regi’ns then
these be, pards,” said Keno Kit, and he
raised the red-skin to the back of his pony
once more and led the way to a point some
distance awa from the trail.

At last he alted in an open space, where
the moonlight fell full upon them, and
placed the warrior before him on the ground.

“ Injun speak English?" he asked quietly.

The warrior shook his head.

“ Waal. I kin talk your lingo, Redd , in a
way that will make you sick," a then
Keno Kit continued, speaking in the Indian
tongue:

” Red-skin great warrior."

The Indian seemed surprised to hear his
own tongue spoken so well by white lips,
but answered:

“ Black Cloud great warrior."

" So I thought, and he don‘t wish to lose
his scalp?"

Of course the red-skin desired to meet
with no such loss, and Keno Kit con-
tinued, speaking as before in the Indian
tongue:

“ If Black Cloud speaks with straight
tongue, I will let him go free, when myself
and ards are in safety.

“ f he talks crooked, I will scale him, so
that he will be a squaw-brave, and then let
him 0 to his people.”

“ hat does pale-face brother want?”
asked Black Cloud, more anxious to save

Dead Shot Dandy.

  

The red-skin nodded assent.

" The Comanches under Wild Eye met a
big loss in the valley some days ago.”

A nod was the reply.

“ Was Black Cloud there?"

A nod of assent showed that he was.

“ Did Comanches take any pale-face prls~
oners?"

" No."

“Not one?"

“ N o."

“ Does Black Cloud know pale-face chief
Dead Shot?"

" Paleface Blue Fire Eye?" asked the In-
dian, and remembering that Dead Shot
Dandy was so called by the red-skins, Keno
Kit replied:

“ Yes, where is Blue Fire Eye?"

Black Cloud did not know, but had seen
him in battle, and one pale-face had followef'l
their retreat all day, and slain several of the r
warriors, but they could not capture him, he
said.

” Dead Shot, for keeps!” cried Keno Kit,
as be interpreted for the benefit of Cecil
Lorne and Benito.

“So it seems. and if so, he is safe," an-
swered the captain.

Then Keno Kit asked Black Cloud a num-
ber of other questions, which resulted in the
discovery that when the Indians found that
only one pale-face was pursuing them. a
be y of picked warriors, a dozen in number
and splendidly mounted, had started upon
his trail, and had followed it toward the
south.

'These warriors, he said, had not returned
yet; or had not when he left the village half
a dozen hours before.

“ Well, the Black Cloud has spoken with

scalp. When he shows us the trail taken by
the braves in following Blue Fire Eye, he
shall go," said Keno Kit.

The warrior demurred. but flndlng that it
was his only chance, he consented and they
at once set off for the spot where they had
left their horses.

Mounting, they continued their wa until

nearly dawn. when Black Cloud tol them
that they-were about on the trail.
Then they camped. ate a good meal from
the Indian’s game, giving him his share also,
and securing him beyond hope of escape, lay
down to rest. - L

CHARTER XVII.
_ A RUNNING FIGHT.
i’r was just dawn when Keno, with the
power to awaken at any time he wished, threw
off his blanket and called to his comrades.

 

 

is scalp-lock than his life.

“ Will Black Cloud speak straight?”

Instantly the were upon their feet. and
again the In an Warrior's game watered

  

straight tongue. and he shall not lose his '

N W f “24.333 ant-f M_,4yrz\w‘u‘ W enact. a

.._.;¢«=m

‘ “\Wni’vfirp‘ms; C

1‘
gr

     

 

 

 

 

 

 

bead Shot Dandy. 25

 

from the very good appetites of his three white
captors.

Feeling that he was to be kept faith with,
the warrior also enjoyed his breakfast, and,
confident that he was doing no harm in send
ing three men upon the trail of a dozen, he
pointed out very readily the way which the
pursuers of Dead Shot had gone, for that it
was none other than Dead Shot none of the
trio doubted.

Keno eyed the trail closely, and set out
upon it, following it upon foot, While the
others came behind.

He had not gone very far before they came
to the summit of the foot-hills, and saw the
rollin prairie spread out before them.

“ ow, Black Cloud, you can 0,” said
Keno Kit, releasing the warrior an telling
him to lose no time in getting out of sight.

As the red-skin mounted his horse a free
man, Benito saw him slightly start, and a
change come over his face, and told his com-
panions about it when the Indian had ridden

o .

The watched him for an instant, and
then eno Kit said:

“Now, pards, we’ll follow on this trail,
for it leads across the prairie, and ther Injun
told the truth, for does yer see that thar be
jest thirteen horses as hes gone along heur?"

His comrades did not see that fact, but
took Keno Kit’s word for it, who then said
quickly, as he glanced out over the prairie:

“ Thar, boy pard, thet is what made yer
Injun look strange—he seen them reds a-
comin’.”

As Keno Kit spoke he pointed out over
the prairie to where a party of mounted
warriors were visible, coming toward the
hills.

“Hal it must bethe party who pursued
Dead Shot,” cried Cecil Lorne,

” No, there era" but ten in that party, sir,”
said Benito. -

“ I guess thet Dead Shot hev got awa
with two of ’em, an’ ther others tuck sic
an’ turned back,” put in Keno Kit.

“ Well, what are we to do, Kit?”

“ Cap’n, we hes ter git out 0’ these bills as
quick as we kin. ,.

“ Our animiles is fresh, so ter speak, an’
theirs is played out, so we klu keep ahead
of ’em, while if we remain heur thar’ll be
five hundred red devils arter us afore
night.” . _ n

“ Then to the prairie we go.

“Yas. an’ look tharl

" Ef thet varmint hain't flanked us an’ are
a-ridin’ fer life ter j‘ine his kumrades, then I
lies fur luck.” .

It was true. for Black Cloud had evident-
ly just sighted the advancing party. and hav-
ing gotten out of sight of the whites, had

 

made all haste to get to the ten warriors ap-
proaching the hills.

“ Come, pards, an’ We’ll dust,” cried Keno
Kit, and the trio rode down the hillside un~
der cover of the timber, and, reaching the
prairie, suddenly dashed out upon it in a
sweeping gallop.

The Indians were now almost up to the
foot-hills, and had halted, while their com-
panion, who had just joined them, was tell-
ing them of the proximity of their foes, and
pointing up to the spot where he had left
them. ‘

The whites had not gotten but a hundred
yards from the hills before they were discov-
ered, however, and instantly, with Wild yells,
they started in pursuit.

The trio had fully a quarter of a mile good
start, and felt that their horses were far su-
perior animals to those ridden b the red-
skins: but this hope was destine to a slight
drawback, as they beheld their foes coming
on at a swinging pace, and which showed
that their ponies were not as worn out as
they had believed and hoped that they
were.

“ Benito, you hes ther largest range shoot-
in’-iron, so yer had better invite ther var-
mints ter stay ahint a bit,” said Keno Kit, as
he saw that they would have to push their
horses to keep ahead of the red-skins.

“ Shall I knock over Black Cloud?” asked
Benito, quietly, unslinging his rifle.

“ No, I guesses not, fer he did us a good
tarn, ef ‘twere ter save his scallip.

“ Take thet fuss-au’-feathers adeadin’ ther
gang.”

Drawing his horse quickly to a halt, Ben—
ito sprung to the ground, threw his rifle
across his saddle, and a flash and a report in-
stantly followed. -

“ He! he] yer got him.”

“ Bravo for you, Benito!"

The cries came frorn Keno Kit and Cecil
Lorne, who had also reined up their horses
when the Boy Bugler halted, and were de-
lighted to see the Indian throw up his hands
and fall to the ground.

Instantly his comrades gave vent to wild
yells of rage, and urged their horses on the
harder, while one of their number halted by
the side of their fallen comrade.

That one was Black Cloud, whose horse I

was not as fleet as the others.

But the remaining nine came on with a
rush, and began steadily to gain upon their
foes, who would not put their horses out
3t full speed, unless driven by necessity to

0 so.

I' Try ’em ag’in, Boy Boogler, but don't
stop ter fire.

“ J ist let ’em hev it as we rides along.” -

“All right, Kit,” cried Benito, elated at

c. «News We ..

A angina-L:- r

    
  
  
   
    
    
  
    
    
  
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
    
  
   
  
 
 
    
  
   
   
  
  
  
   
    
   

so  I Dead Shot Dandy.

 

his former success, and he threw his rifle to
his shoulder and once more it sent forth its
deadly load.

This time a mustan went down, throwing
his rider over his head.

“Well done, Benito, for he is out of ther
fight.

“ Hal there comes a volley from them,"
cried Captain Lorne, as shot after shot was
sent after the whites.

“And you tre hit, sir,” said Benito, anx-
iously, as he saw Cecil Lorne slightly reel,
and his left arm drop to his side.

“ It is but a flesh wound, I think,” coolly
said the officer, raspin his wounded arm.

“This won’t' 0, par s, fer they hes long-
range irons too, which I didn’t believe of
’em.

“ We must show ’em our animiles kin
drop ’em, fer thet wound hes to be looked
arter, cap’n, an’ I are a half-way fool o’ a
doctor myself.

“ Push ’em, pards, push ther critters."

In obedience to the call of Keno Kit the
three horses were put to their metal, and in-
stantly began to drop the surprised red-skins,
who believed that they had been urged to
their best.

Chagrin‘ed at the deception they again fired
a volley which, however, fell short; but
Benito suddenly reined in his horse, sprung
to the ground once more, and threw his rifle
across his saddle while he called out:

“ This is to avenge you, captain!”

“ And you have done it, my brave boy,”
shouted Cecil Lorne.

“ Durned ef yer hain’t." cried Keno Kit,
as a second Indian fell like a log from his
horse.

Springing to his saddle again, Benito seized
his bugle, which he never went without, and
instantly sent forth stirring notes as he sped
along, and which brought the Indians to a
sudden halt, for unable to see over the roll-
ing prairie be end, they thought that there
must be cava r7 ahead, to which the youth
was signaling.

“ Yer hes made ’em scoot, boy paid, ‘sure
as blazes!” cried Keno Kit, as the red-
;klilns turned about and rode back toward the

l s.

“ Now we’ll see thet wound, cap‘n,” and a
halt was at once called.

Examining it with the art of one who had
learned from experience just what wounds
were, Keno Kit said:

" Cap’n, that are a trifle ser’us, so I’ll jist
tie it up, an’ then we’ll shove fer camp as
quick as ther critters can carry us.” r

This was good advrce under the circum-

dtanees, and at a rapid pace the three horses
were urged toward the fort.

 

/ CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PAYMASTER’S MISSION.

IT was late in the night when the small
party rode up to the sentinel at the fort, and
Cecil Lorne was considerably used up.

His wound had bled freely and gave him
great pain, while they had pushed on with
little rest ,for themselves or horses.

While Keno Kit went with the captain to
his quarters, Benito ran to call up Surgeon
Dalton Otey, and the young officer was soon
in bed and in skillful hands that extracted
the bullet and dressed the wound in a man-
ner that gave him great relief from suflfering.

The colonel hearing some confusion,
though not called, as Lorne had requested
that she should not be, promptly arose and
came to the bedside of his favorite officer,
and Benito told him the story of their ad-
ventures, dwelling most modestly upon his
own part in the affair.

Noticing this, Keno Kit put in:

“ Col’nel, I tell yer that Boy Boogler are
a screamer, an‘ are goin’ ter make a super-
fine scout, guide, an’ soger, for he are thar
when wanted, an’ hes ther name 0' Dead
Shot

“ If ther scout don’t tarn up I shall
hev ther chap] in baptize Beeneelo as Leetle
Dead Shot, fer lie slings lead beautiful ter
see.”

"‘ Not a bad name for my Boy Bugler,
Keno Kit, and I know he is every inch a
man, though he counts as a boy in size and
years.

“ But I am glad that Dead Shot is not dead
oraprisoner, for l suppose you think the
story of the Indian warrior is reliable?” said
the colonel.

“ Yes, col‘nel. it are as reliable as a Injun
kin talk; but I takes it fepa fact, as a brave
don’t do no fooliu’ round when he thinks his
scalli is goin’.

“ her comin’ back 0’ ther Injun party he
sed hed gone arler Dead Shot, helped ther
warrior out in ther tale he told.”

“ You don’t think that they could have
overtaken the scout and killed him?”

"No, eol’nel. fer ther In'un said twelve
braves went, and ten comes ack.”

“ Well?” ‘

"Ef they hed overtook Dead Shot, thar
w’u’d not hev been so man conned back, yer
see, especially of they hed ilt him.

“ Then they w’u’d hev waved his scallip‘at
us, which they did not do.

“ I guesses, in startin‘ arter him, they
bited off more'n they c'u’d chaw.”

The following morning. Paymaster Edgar
Leighton Went to see Cecil Lorne, and after
a short chat with him, said:

“ Captain, I start tomorrow for San An-

9

f

>4

 

arm-n. =.

, :riifl '



 

 

 

..-. ra«,g3.<,‘w,,k 

Dead Shot Dandy.

27

 

tonio, on business for the fort. so if you wish
me to make any purchases for you, I will
gladly do so.”

“ Thank you, Leighton, there is one thing
I do wish you would do for me.”

“Certainly.”

“You know that I have expected to go
myself, but have been prevented by these In-
dian expeditions of late, and now Otey tells
me I will have to keep quiet for a month, so-
I will ask you to do a commission of impor-
tance for me.”

“ With pleasure.”

“You know that I told Bronze Bill, when
he was dying, that I would take to his
dau hter the money he left?"

ll es."

“ Well, there is something over three thou-
sand dollars, as you know, and I wish you
to deliver it for me to her.

“ His name was William Dale, and her
name is Lulu, and you will find her at the
convent there.

“ She knew her father not as he was, but
as-a ranchero, so you are not to let her be-
come aware to the contrary, poor girl.

“ Tell her he'was shot one night by a foe,
and that is all she need know of his death,
and, when you pay her the mono take her
receipt in full, if you please. an that will
relieve me of all responsibility in the matter.’

“ I will do just as you wish. captain,” an-
swered Edgar Leighton, and then he added:

“ How old is she?” ‘

“I declare I have forgotten, if I was told
by her father."

" Is she good~looking?”

“ That I do not know; but she certainly is

_ not if she resembles her father.”

“ Not by a long shot; but 1 only asked,
thinking, if she was a young girl vorging up-
on womanhood, and very beautiful, I might
fall in love with her.”

“I give my consent, Leighton,” was the
laughing reply of the captain.

“ You had better write her a letter or let
me do so for you, and you sign it, explain-
ing all, for I hate to tell ople about the
death of their kindred, an that will break
the ice for me."

“I will do so, Leighton,” replied Cecil
Lorne, and during the day the letter was
written, the money given to the paymaster
for Lulu Dale, and the next morning lreleft
the fort in an ambulance, escorted by Keno
Kit and two soldiers as an escort to San
Antonio -

-—

CHAPTER XI .
THE MASKED NARA nus.
TEE paymaster and his escort 'Went into
camp at noon, for rest and the midday meal.

 

and no idea of danger was entertained by
any of them, until suddenly out of the chap-
arral dashed a party of horsemen, half a score
in number.

All but one of them were armed with rifles,
and he carried a revolver, with which he
covered the heart of the paymaster, whi'e he
said in stern tones, and in perfect English:

“ Senors, you are my prisoners!" -

The horsemen were all dressed as Mexican i
cavaliers, their arms were of the best make
and silver-mounted. their saddles were heavy
with silver, and their faces were masked
most thoroughly, the curtain of the mask
going around under their broad sombreros so
as to hide even thcir hair.

In fact, with their gloves on it would be
impossible to tell whether they were whites,
Indians or negroes.

“Ther Marauders o’ ther Rio Grandel”
cried Keno Kit, who took affairs very
quietly.

“Yes, we are the Marauders of the Rio
Grande,” answered the leader.

“ And is you Captain Alvarez?" asked
Keno Kit. '

“ I am."

“Then ther jig is up fer us.”

“Your lives are safe, if you surrender
your booty quietly,” was the reply.

" And if we do not, Sir Bandit?” asked
Edgar Leighton.

"Then I shall have you shot down and
leave your bodics'for the coyotes, while I
will take your booty anyhow,” was the calm
rep .

“)hhl under those circumstances. as we
are wholly in your power, we can but sur-
render.’

“ It will be by
tenant Leighton.”

“ What, you know me?"

“ Yes, as paymaster at Fort Blank.”

“Well, you have been content before to
strike at defenseless trains and rancheros. Sir
Marauder; but now that you have dariugly
halted a Government oflicer. you will find
that on have made a mistake. ’ ~

“ n what we. , sir?”

“ You will e hunted down for your
act "

The outlaw leader laughed lightly, and
said:

“ Come, senor, we but lose time.

” You have With you some fifteen hundred
dollars of Government bonds. and. then a
Eickage to be delivered to the ,Senorlta Lulu

ale, at the convent in San Antonio.

“ The package foots up tbirtytwo hundred
and twenty dollars."

“ You seem well informed, Bandit?”

“ It is necessary that 1 should be in. the
w‘ork I do, air."

far the safest plan, Lieu-

     
   
 
   
   
 
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
    
   
 
 
    
   
   
  
  
  
 
   
  
  
  
   
  
    
   

28

“And you intend to rob me of this
money I”

“ I do.”

-“ You will not spare that of the poor girl,
for it is her all?"

" I will not rob the girl, sir, but I will
rob you of her money,” was the strange
reply.

“ And my men, will you rob them?"

“ No.”

“ You are generous,” sneered the officer.

“ But I will take a balance which you
have with you, and given you by the officers
and miners at the fort to make purchases for
them."

"‘ Ah! you know of that too?" _

“ Yes. it amounts to several hundred dol-
lars, which I cannot :tiford to lose."

“Ah, but you shall rue this!"

“I have not done yet, Lieutenant Leigh-
ton, for I recall that Matt Moore, the post
sutler, gave you just one thousand dollars
with which to pay some bills of his,"

“ 0h, Heaven! I am ruined, for all my
savings just amount to what you take from
me. and I shall certainly restore to all the

' sum I am robbed of which belongs to them,”
said Paymaster Leighton, in a disconsolate
tone.

“ You are certainly honorable, sir, but they
cannot claim from you the amounts.

“ Now, sir, kindly give me the several
packages of money which I have name< .”

“ Say, pard, you needs hangin’ wuss nor a
wolf,” bluntly said Keno Kit.

The Marauder chief laughed lightly, but
still held out his hand, and, making the best
of a bad business, Edgar Leighton promptly
handed over the money.

“ Thank you, senor, I will not forget your
kindness

“ Farewell I”

As he spoke he bowed, and wheeling his
horse quickly a limb struck his sombrero
aud knocked it, with his mask from his head.

“Dead 8th Dandy! ”

The name broke forth from Lieutenant
Leighton, Keno Kit, and the soldiers, as the
handsome, daring face of the scout was re-
vealed.

Sweeping,r down from his saddle, without
dismounting, he picked up his sombrero and
mask, and rode off, followed by Edgar Leigh-
ton’s stinging words:

“ Duke Decatur, you area common thief
after all. and well you deserve hanging for
the crimes I now know you to be guilty of."

The Marauders dashed away in‘ silence,
and then the paymaster called to Keno Kit.

“Well, paymaster?”

“ Would you have believed it?”

Dead Shot Dandy.

“ Well, I wish you to return to the fort
and make my report to Colonel Du Barry,
for I shall write him.”

“And you, sir?”

“Will go on to San Antonio, for we wil
need no guide from here.

“I can readily raise the money to pay all
that was taken, for I have an account of
my own to ver the amounts. and I will
give it up, t 'ough it is the earnings of ten
years.”

” You is squar' clean through, paym’ster."

“I am but just, Keno Kit, for no one
shall lose a dollar through me.”

" It were not your fault.”

“I was intrusted with the money and I
lost it; but to resist would have been mad—
ness.

“Now you.return to the fort with my let-
ter, and spare not your horse."

“ No fear, pard." .

“Then ask the colonel to send you back
with half a dozen scouts and an escort ofa
sergeant and ten troopers, for l have no de-
sire to be robbed on the we back.”

“ I guesses not, and we‘l be thar.”

“ I’ll await your coming-in San Antonio,
Keno Kit.

“ Now I will write my report.”

The paymaster then made out his report of
the affair, and told who was indeed the noted
Marauder Captain Alvarez.

With this Keno Kit started on his return,
while Edgar Leighton and his soldiers con-
tinued on to San Antonio.

 

CHAPTER XX.
ILL-OMENED 'rmmes.

LiKE lightning from a cloudless sky fell
the tidings upon all at the fort, when Keno
Kit returned with the news of the Marauders’
robbery, and who it was that was known as
Captain Alvarez.

Often it had been said that Captain Alvarez
was seldom with his Marauders, and this
rumor was now revived. to show how clever-
ly Dead Shot Dandy had managed his work.
living at the fort, and keeping his men posted
upon all movements of parties from whom
money and booty were to he obtained.
Monte was delighted that his suspicious had
proven correct, and now but one person
doubted but that Bronze Bill had died by
Dead Shot Dandy‘s hand, and that he had
been the one to fire upon the chief of scouts,
who had stepped into his shoes.

I say one doubted still, and I must add
that there were two doubters.

 

“I w’u’dn’t, before ther Lord, pard, an’ it
eats into my heart to know it." _

These were Benito, the Boy Bugler, and
Marie Du Barry.

.3

. NJ,—

 

 

,.
t.
'rf

,

 

 

 

 

VS,

t
i


at

l
i
h

l
“H

“m wee-m5, u,

{321;}. .4

 

1;...) 4

i
,.

 

“swat”, ;, I , ,

am: 1.3.NWE‘ 7

Dead Shot Dandy.

29

 

These two persisted in believing that there
was some mistake, a case of mistaken iden-
tity, and all arguments would not convince
them of the guilt of Dead Shot Dandy, and
even Colonel Du Barry became provoked at
their faith in the scout, while Cecil Lorne
went partially over to their side and said:

‘,‘Jt looks bad. but somehow I have a
lingering hope that Dead Shot is all right?

Monte, at his own request. was sent w1th
the escort to San Antonio. Keno Kit being
left in charge of the scouts.

It was several days before the party re-
turned, and they came in With sober aces
and with the ambulance carrying two wound-
ed men, while twice as many more had been
left in graves on the trail side.

The paymaster’s story was soon told.

They had dreaded no danger from Ma-
rauders or red-skins, with a force of twenty
men, and yet at midnight their camp had
been attacked by a score of daring Ma-
rauders, led by their chief ; they had been

'driven from it in spite of a desperate resis-

tance, the ambulance had been robbed, and
then the bandits had retreated, carrying off
their dead and wounded. and leaying behind
them death and sufl’cring and rage at their
losses.

“ Did the same man lead the Marauders as
before?" asked Colonel Du Barry.

“ Yes, sir."

" It was, you think, Dead Shot Dandy!"

“ I know It, sir, 'for in defiance he wore no
mask.”

“Why did you not kill him, Leighton ‘2"

“ I emptied my revolver squarely at him,
but he seemed to bear a charmed life, and
Monte was wounded in trying to drag him
from his horse with a lariat which he had
thrown over him.”

“ Brave Monte.

“ Well, this is certainly ill-tidings to me,
Leighton, for I loved that man,” said the
colonel, sadly.

“It was hard to believe, sir. but it is true,
and I am ruined, for I lost all my own money,
which I spent in place of what 1 had been
robbed of.”

“ It is hard, Leighton, but you must not
be alone the sufferer, for no one will hold
you for their slight losses. and will pay back
the sum that you replaced with your money,
while the Government .nnd Sutler Matt
Moore must sufier, as both can afiord to
do.”

“ But let me tell you of a strange circum-
stance. colonel."

“ Well 'I"

“You are aware that I had the money

,7 Bronze Bill left for his daughter?”

v
u s!

" Well, sir, I told Dead Shot, as I now

 

know the chief to he, to spare that, and his
answer was a peculiar one."

“ What was it?’

“ That he would rob me of the girl’s money,
but not her."

“ What (lid he mean, Leighton Y”

“I will tell you, sir,

“When I reached San Antonio, I sought
the convent, and asked for the girl, as soon
as I had gotten the money from my deposxt
to give to her.

“She came into the, room, and was really
a beautiful maiden, With a face of rare fas-
cination.”

“ Not like her father then ?”

“Far from it, sir, for she is an ange .”

“Her father wishes he was too about this
time, I guess, Leighton,” said the colonel,

dryl . -

“ Doubtless, sir; but she is indeed a lovely
creature.”

“Dead gone, heart, head, and money,”
laughed the colonel.

The ofliccr blushed, but said:

“I told her that I had been intrusth with
a letter for her from Captain Cecil Lorne,
which would give her bad news, and also,
that I had for her a considerable sum of
money, for 1 would not tell her of the rob-
bery."

“ It was noble of you, Leighton.”

“ She read the letter with her eyes full of
tears, and then told me that she had already
been informed, the evening before. of her
poor father‘s death, and had received the
money which he had left her.

“I was dumfounded, Colonel Du Barry."

“And well you might be. .

“ But who told her, and who gave her the
money?"

“ That I asked her, and she ‘said a tall,
handsome man. with fine blue eyes and gold—
en hair had called.

“He did not give his name, but told her
that her father had been slain by the chief
of the Rio Grande Marauders, and when dy-
ing had left that sum for her.

“ Then he paid to her exactly the amount
which I had for her.” '

‘9 This is remarkable.”

" Not so, when you know that it was the
Dead Shot Dandy, as we called him, who did
it.” x

“ True, it was just like him; but what did
you do, Leighton ?" . ~

“ I told her the money had been left in
my hands, but that some friend of her father
had doubtless, not having seen me, deter-
mined to pay it, and I urged her acceptance
of the amount.

“But she would not take it, saying that
the letter stated only a certain sum, and con-
sequently I kept my money.”

E.
..
i

 

arm»

.T...1m .e

‘ 30 Dead Shot Dandy.

 

.r... _. 7... ..-...c...~-- ._..-..4r

,. 4‘.“

 

“This is strange, indeed; but, Leighton, I
intend to hunt this traitor scout down, and
out of his booty you shall get back your
losses."

“Thank you, colonel.”

“ I shall set Cecil Lorne with fifty men,
and Monte with his scouts at the work,
39]; soon as the captain is able to take the sad-

0.

“ In the mean time. Monte can set his men
secretly to work to find out all he can about
the haunts of these Marauders, and they
shallvbe wiped Off the Texas prairies for-
ever.

 

CHAPTER XXI.
CONCLUSION.

ALTHOUGH Colonel Du Barry was most
earnest in his endeavor to keep his word and
hunt the Marauders of the Rio Grande off
the face of earth. every attempt to do so was
a signal failure, for their daring:r chief eluded
all pursuit, defeated parties sent after him
whenever he was brought to buy, and con-
tinued his depredations all the while with
wonderful success.

At last he became so bold in his raids that
extra troops and scouts were ordered to Fort
Blank, and this forced the Marauders to seek
safety in flight across the Rio Grande, where,
upon Mexican territory, in the fastness of the
wild mountains, they knew they would be
safe from pursuit by American troops, and
for those of Mexico they seemed little to
care. .

Untiring in all their raids after the Ma-
rauders, were Benito the Boy Bugler, and
Keno Kit, and their adventures would fill a
volume.

But strang as it may seem the Boy Bugler,
in spite of al said against Dead Shot Dandy,
would not believe in his guilt.

“I must see him myself, to believe him
guilty,” he would say.

And this faith in the innocence of the man
who had befriended him, was shown also by
Marie Du‘Barry, whose life Dead Shot had
twice saved, for she too would not believe
him guilty.

Their faith made Cecil Lorne and Keno
Kit also». little shaky in believing Dead Shot.
the Marauder chief; but the scout would say:

“It's ketchin' afore hangin’, an’ ketchin’
will show who he are."

But all eflorts to capture the bold chief
proved unavailing and, as Dead Shot never
returned to the fort during the raids against
the Marauders, all but Marie Du Barry and
the Boy Bugler believed that he was indeed
Captain Alvarez, the Bandit.

THE END.

I

 

BEADLE AND ADAMS’

STANDARD DIME PUBLICAIIUNS

Speakers.

Each volume contains 100 large pages. min”
from clear, open type. comprising the best collec-
tion of Dialogues. Dramas and Recitations.

The Dime Speakers embrace twenty-five volumes
viz.:

i

 

 

 

1. American Speaker. 15. Komikal Speaker.

2. National Speaker. 16. Youth’s S her.

3. Patriotic Speaker. 17. E10 uent eaker.

4. Comic Speaker. . 18. Hai Colum ia Speak-

5. Elocutionist. er.

6. Humorous Speaker. 19. Serio~Comie Speaker.

7. Standard Speaker. 20. Select S eaker. . "
8. Stump Speaker. 21. Funny peaker. ,. '
9. Juvenile Speaker. ‘22. Jolly Speaker. '
IO. Spread-Eagle Speaker 23. Dialect Speaker.

11. Dime Debater. 24. Recitationsand Read-

12. Exhibition Speaker. . ings.

13. School Speaker. I 25. Burlesque Speaker

14. Ludicrous Speaker. v

These books are replete with choice pieces for the
School-room. the Exhibition, for Homes. etc. 75 to
100 Declamations and Recrtations in each book.

Dialogues.

The Dime Dialogues. each volume 100 pages. em.
brace thirty-five books. viz.:

Dialogues No. Eighteen.
Dialogues No. Nineteen.
Dialogues N o. Twenty.
Dialogues No. Twenty~one.
Dialogues No. Twenty-two.
Dialogues No. Twenty-three.
Dialogues No. Twenty-four.
Dialogues No Twenty-five.
Dialogues No. Twenty-six.
Dialogues No. Ten. Dialogues {\‘o. ’l‘wenty-sevcu.
Dialogues NO. Eleven. Dialogues No. Twenty-eight.
Dialogues No. Twelve. Dialogues No. Twenty-nine.
Dialogues No. Thirteen. Dialogues No. Thirty.
Dialogues No. Fourteen. Dialogues NO. Thirty—one
Dialogues No. Fifteen. illialrrgiws NO. Thirty-two.
Dialogues No. Sixteen. [Dialogues No Thirty-three.
Dialogues N0.Sevemec-n .Dialouues No. Thirty-four.

Dialogues No. Thirty-five.
15 to 25 Dialogues and Dramas in each book.

Dialogues No. One.
Dialogues No. Two.
Dialogues No. Three.
Dialogues No. Four.
Dialogues No. Five.
Dialogues N0. Six.
Dialogues No. Seven.
Dialogues N0. Eight.
Dialogues No. Nine.

 

 

Drama and Readings.
164 i2mo Pages. 20 Cents.

For Schools, Parlors. Entertainments and the Am-
ateur Stage, comprising Original Minor Dramas. 9,
Comedy, Farce. Dress‘ eces. Humorous Dialogue '
and Burlesque, by noted writers: and Recitation:
and Readings. new rnd standard. of the greatest
celebrity and interest. Edited by Prof. A. M. Russel.

For sale by all newsdealers. or sent. post-paidI on
receipt of price-ten cents.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Pcsusunn,
98 William Street, New York.

 

 

r-m

... n... '

 

' '96

 

 

 

BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY.

Published Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents.

 

1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince or the Road. By E L. Wheeler.

Knnnun King} or, The Red Right Hand. By Buffalo Bill.

The Flylnf unkee. Bv Cal. Prentiss inzrahnm.

The Ilonb e Daggers. By Edward L. Wheeler.

The Two Detectives. By Albert W. Aiken.

The Prairie Pilot. Br Builnlo Bill.

The Buffalo Demon. By Edward L. Wheeler.

Anielo e Abe, the Boy Guide. By 0]) Cooxnet

Nell vide. the iloy Smut. By “ Texan Jnrk.”

Blilflllo lien, Prince of the Firm]. By E. L.Wlmeler.

Ralph Roy. the an Bllfz‘nueer. By C l. Prentiss lngrahnm.

Nick 0‘ the Ni ht. By T. l‘. Harbauzh.

Yellowstone uck. Bx J'llf'llh 15- Badger, 5'-

Wlld Ivan the Boy Claude Duvni. By E. L.Whealer.

Diamond lurk; or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone. By

Colonel Prentiu lngrnhnm.

Keen-Knife, Prince ofthe Prairiee. Binl Cranmer.

01-0 on Sol, Nick Whimas’n BnySpy. 831.]. l“. C. Adams.

Den h-Fnee, the Detective. By E. L. Wheeler.

Luann Jot-k, the Ynunu Mustanger. ilv 0|1 Coornes.

Rom-inn: Rulph Roeku‘ood. By Harry St. George.

21 The Roy Clown. By me: S. Film.

22 The Phantom Miner; or, Dr‘litllvnofl Dick‘s Bonanza. By
Edwnrd L. Wheeler.

28 The Sen-Cut. By Cnpt. Frederick Whittaker.

24 The Dumb Spy. By Oil C(Nlllles.

llnttllni: Rube. By Hurry St, George.

26 Old Avniunehe, the Annihilator. By E. L. Wheeler.

2? (r‘rlunn- Eye, the Great Shut al' the \\ est. By J. F. C. Adams.

28 The Boy Onptain. B\ Roger Sun-buck.

23! Dir-k Darling. the Pony Express Rider. Br Capt. i-‘. \‘i’hittniur.

Bob Woolf. the Border Ruffian. By Edward L. Wheeler.

8: lehtlnznlc Nut- By T. C. iinrbnugh.

32 Black Jnhn. the Rand Agent. By Jose h E. Badger. Jr.

st: omnim on, the Mm a Mm. n; n. l”. mm...

8-1 Burt Bunker. the ’i‘rnppcr. Hy reurge E. lmsnllu.

:35 The Boy liillen- or, This Undrrgrnund Cmnp. By A. C.lronn.

86 The “'hite Buffalo. By Genrm- E. Lnsnlle.

3? Jlln llltldnoe. Jr. llv Ellwfllll l.. \Vlweler.

3’1 Nod Ilnzol, the Boy Trapper. ily Capt. J. F. C. Arinml.

39 Deadly Eye, the Unknown Smut. lh' ilnfl'nln Bill.

10 NIL-k “‘hiilk‘s’n Poi. lly (Inpl. J. F. C. Adnmn.

4.1 Deadwood Dk-k’n Entries. By Edward L. “'heeler.

1'.) The “order King. Hy 0|] Funnies.

1:; (ml Illukory; nr. l’ | _~ Illie‘x: Nut . By HnrrySt.George.

-l-l 'I‘he \‘Vhltt‘ lndinn. By (,‘npt. .i. . C. Adnml.

Rnckllorn Bill. 155' Evltrnrll 1.. Wheeler.

iii The Shadow Shlp. liy (Yul. Prentiss inzrnhnln.

A1? The lied Brotherhood. By W. J. Hamilton.

4:34 Dandy Jnek; or, The Outlnw of the Oregon Trail. By T. C.
Harbour: .

49 Hurricane 11111. By J'ireph E, Budgenlr.

50 Single "and: or. A Life for a Life. By W. J. l‘l‘mllhn.

71 Patent-leuthcr Joe. By Philip 5. Wurne.

52 The Border [Robin Hood. By Butl'nlo Bill.

58 Gold “"10, the, Sliiilpllimllfl’. By Edward L. Wheeler. ’

514 old le’n (labin; or, A Grccnhonl in the Woo-ll. ByCapt.
J. F. (I. Admire.

55 Delaware "10k, the Young Ranger Spy. By 0]] Gnomes.

56 Mud ’l‘oln Western. By W. J. ilmniltcn.

Deadwood Dick on Dork. By Edward L. Wheeler.

Iluwkeve llurry, the. Ymmu Trnyper. lly Oil Coumen.

69 The ll Duelist. liy Col. Prentiss lngrllmm.

( . n..- Crow—K llrr. By Albert w. Aiken. ‘

’ Chill-lie, the Buy iirm‘n. By Edward L. “'lleeier.

ere. the Buy Detective. By Chu. Morris.

‘ er, the Giant. Trapper. Br A. w. Aiken.

64 llowhll Ilob. By Edward L. Wheeler.

(iii Linhtninx Joe. By Cn tnln J. F. C. Adnml.

66 Kit Hurel‘oot, the Won -Hawlc. By T. C. ilnrhnugh.

67 Rollo, the Buy Ranger. By Oil Cor-men.

68 [(11ya'lthel Girl Miner; or, Rozelmd Rob on Hand. By Edvard
1. "9?, ET.

69 Detective Dick; nr,’i‘he Hero in Run. Br Charlel Morris.

7” Sure Shot. Both, the Boy Riflemnn. 13v 0] Coot-nu.

7| Sharp sum; or, The Adventure: oinl‘riendlen Buy. By}.
Alcxnmll'r Patten. .

72 The Lion oi’the Sen. By Albert W4 Aiken.

73 PhotogrnghL’hiiJhe Boy Sleuth; or, Rosebud Rob's Ruppenr—

«l

i.___—
gene-s India!th

uunu a
anon a

 

   
  
 

5:
I
e

.—
‘1
..

mice lly . W'heeler.

Picayune. Pete; or, Nimdemm, the Dog Detective. By
(llmrlm Mnrrin.

inland Jim; nr,’i’he Pet of the Family. By Bmebridge
lientyuz (.lnck Harknwny).

7‘3 “’nn‘lt-Eye. the Shadow. By Edwnrd L. W'lloelel.

5?? Dick Dend Eye. the My Suturuler. By 04:1. P. inmllnm.

7n. Doudwrmd Diek’n Device. “3' BL in Wheeler.

79 The Block Mun-(anger. 33' CM“- 7‘185'50 “Md-

30 (Nd Frontv. the Guide. liv T. C. Hnrbauxh.

RI The Hon Viper. By Col. Prentiss in .

82 Seth Jones; or. The Cnptlven u! the Frontier. Br E. 8. Ellis.

H8 (Yo-undo Chet, the Counterfeit." Chief. By E. L. eeier.

“4 ' he Dumb Page. By Cupt. Frederirk Whittaker.

’45 The Boy Miners. By Edw-tl'd S. Ellis. '

80 Jnok llnrhnwny in New Yorll. By Bimbndfl Hemyng.

8’? The lluneur Captain. ByACol. Prentiu mgr-harm.

 

88 Deadwood Dick in Lendvilie. By Edward 1.. Wheeler.
89 Bill Biddon Trapper. By Edward 5. Ellis.
90 My, the exnn. By George Gleason.

91 Mustang Stun, the King of the Pinion. By Joe. E. dodger. Jr.

98 The Ocean Bloodhound. By Samuel W. [‘mrcc.

93 Phil Hardy, the Boll Boy. By Charien Morris.

.1 Deadwood Dick as Detective. By E. L. Wheeler.

95 Buck Buckram. By Captain J. F. C. Admin.

96 Gilt-Edged Dick. By Edwlrd L. Wheeler.

9? The Blot-k Steed of the Prairies. By James L. Rowan.

98 The Sen Serpent. By Juan Lewis.

99 Bonanz- Bill, the Man Tracker. By E. L. thler.

100 Nat. Todd; or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive. By E. 5. Ellis.

101 During Davy; the Young Bear Killer. By Hurry St. George

102 The Yellow Chief. By Cnpt. Mnyne Reid.

103 Chip, the Girl Sport. lly Edward L. Wheeler.

104 The Black Schooner. lly Rng'zr Smrhnck.

1015 Handsome flurry, th-r R nthlack Deter-live. By C. Martin.

106 Night-Hawk Kit. ll; .l-Ne; h E. Badger, Jr.

10? Jaek lloyle’n Lead. 1 3' 2rd L. Vi'lteeler.

108 Rocky Mountain Kit. iiy T. C. Hark-ugh.

109 The Brnndeii “and. By Frank Dnmont.

110 The Dread Rider. By George W. Brnwne.

111 13mm Bob. the King of Bootblncks. By Edwud L. “Water.

112 The llelpleu "and. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

118 Sour-Film: Saul, the Silent Hunter. By Oll Coomel.

114 l’iney Paul, the Mountain Boy. By T. t". llnrbnugh.

115 Deadwood chli’n Double. By 15 hand L. Wheeler.

116 Jubez Collin, Skipper. By Capt. F. \Yllittnlter.

117 Fancy Frnnk, of Cninrndo. By “ Butl‘nio Bill.”

118 \Vlll “Vlltlflre, the Thoroughbred. By CllM. erII.

119 Bionde mm or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Bue. By Edwtrd
L. Wheeler. r

120 Gopher Gid, the iiny Trapper. By T. C, iinrhnugh.

121 Harry Armstronz, the Captain of the Club. By Bnce-
hrldze Hemyng, (Jack llhrhnwny.)

132 The Hunted Hunter. By Edward S. Eliil.

128 Solid Sam, the Boy Bonngeul. By Etlwnrd L. Wheeler.
124 Judge Lynch. Jr. By T. C. llnrhuugh.

125 The Land Pirates. By Curt. Mayne Reid.

126 Blue Blazes: or The Break 0‘ Day Bo I of Rock . ’
Frank Dumnnt. ’ y y B” By

127 Tony Fox. the Ferret. By Eduard L. Wheeler.

128 Black Ben, Will Wildfire’: Racer. Bv Charles Motrin.
129 Earle Kit, the lioy Demon. By Oll Coauch

180 Gold Trigger. the Sport. l!) T. C. Hnrbnugh.

131 A Grime of Gold; or, O \dwood Diril' Big Strike. By
Edward 1.. Wheeler.

182 Dainty Lnnre, the icy 5w“ ByJ.E.Bndger,Jr.

188 “did-lire. the Boss 01 the AM. By Frank Dun-ant.

134 Mike Merry, the Harbor PoliceBoy. By (‘hArlm Mania.

185 Deadwood Dick oi’De-dwood. By E. L. Wheeler.

186 01d Rube. the Hunter. By Capt. Huntlan Holman.

1.37 Dandy Rock, the Mun from Tenn. By G. WI‘do Browne.

138 Bob Roche“, the Boy Dodger. By Chn. Muffin. ‘

189 The Binok Gi-nt; or. Dninty Lnnce in Jeopardy. By Jon.
E. Badger. Jr.

140 Captain Arizolln. By Philip S. “'arne.

141 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. By 15.1.. Wheeler

142 Little Texan, the Young .‘lultanger. By Oil (locum

148 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. By Joe. E.
Bldg". Jr.

144 Little Grit. the “'ild Rldar. By Col. Prentill Innlhm.
145 The Tiger ofTaos. By Geo. Waldo Browne.
146 The Cattle King. By Frnnk Dumont.

Issued Every Wednesday. ,

Beadle: Pocket Library in [or uric by nil New-denim. fin

cents per copy, or sent by mail a. receipt 0! nix cents each.

BEADLE AND ADAMS. Publisher-n,

98 William Street, New York.

 

BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY.

Published Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents.

 

147 Nollhy Nick ofNevndn. By Edward L. \l‘hnaler.
148 Thunderbolt Tom. By Harry St. George. v
149 Bob Roekott, the Bank Runner. By Charles Mnrrlr.
150 The Mad Miner. By G. Waldo Browne.
151 The Ben Trailer. By Col. Prentiss lnzrnlmln.
152 Dandy Durke; or, Thu Tigers ol‘l-ligh Pine. By W. R. Eysler.
158 “'lld Frank, the Bar-kskla Brnvn. By E. L. Wheeler.
154 Tile Boy Trailers. By JOE. E. Badger, Jr.
155 Gold Plume, the Boy llinldic By Col. Prentiss lngralmm.
156 “"111 \Vlldilre ill the “'oods. By C. Morris.
157 Ned Temple, the Border Buy. By T. (Lilarbnugh.
158 Deadwood Dick’s Doom. lly E. L. Wheeler.
159 l’uicnt-Lcniher Joe‘s Dci'cnt. By Philip. S. Warns.
160 Buffalo Billy, the Buy liullwhacker. By Cal. P. Ingrahlm.
161 Bob Roche", the Cracksman. By Charlwz Morris.
162 Little llurrimlne, Lhr Boy Captain. By Oll Coomel.
163 Dcndwood Dick’s Drown. By E. L. Wheeler.
161 Tornado Tom. By T. C. Harhangh.
165 Bulfalo “111’! not. By Col. l’rentlls lngmllnlll.
166 Will “'ildilre 1" ins and Loses. By Charles Morris.
16‘? Dandy Rock’s i‘lodge. By Georg W. Browne.
168 Deadwood Dick’s “'urd. By Edward L. \Vhevler.
169 The Day Champion. By Edward W'illeii.
1 ’?0 Rob llnekott’s Fight for Life. By Charlea Morris.
17] Frank Morton, the hr.)- llrrclllvs. ByOllCmnneu.
172 The Yankee Rnuger. By Edwin Elllvnnn.
1733 Dick Dingle. Seoul. By Edward S. Ellis.
174 Dnndy Rock’s Scheme. By G. W. Browne.
1‘75 The Arab Detective. By Edward L. When-h-r.
1 76 11'!“ “'lldflre’s l’lIu-k. By Chariot: Morris.
177 The Boy Commander. By Col. l‘rl-lltiss lngrahaln.
1’38 The MnnlmI Hunter. By Burlna Saxe.
I?!) Dainty Lam-e: or, Thu Mystic Marksman. By J. E. Badger
150 The Boy Gold-llunter. By T. (7. Harbaugh.
IS! The. fienpcgrnoo Son. By Charles Murrln
192 The Dnrk-Fhlnned Seout. By Lit-“l. Col. llilzrllinc.
153 Jain-z Dart, Detective. By 0]] Cnomos.
18:1. Featherweight, the Boy Spy. By Edward \Villnll.
185 Dillon Bill, the Overland Prilwr. By (.‘nl. Prentiss lugmhmn
186 Dnlni)’ Lance and "is I'm-d. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. ‘
187 The Trapped Tiger King. By Clmvlm Mnrrls.
188 The Ventrllouulst Detective. By Edward 1.. Wheeler.
189 old Rocky‘s Boys. By W. Sum. S. Hall.
190 Elm Blmpking, Scnlll. lly Jnnn-a L. anon.
191 Dulldy Roek’n Rlvnl. By loo. “'aldo Bruwar.
192 Hickory flurry. By linrry St. Georg».
1,93 Detective Josh Grim. By Edward L. “’lu‘rlrr.
194 Prospect Pete, the Boy Miner. By ml Cmmps.
195 The Tenderi‘oot Trallrr. By T. C. l'larhaugh.
196 The Dandy Detective. By Charles Morris.
1 97 Boy, the Young Cattle King. By Cal. I’mnllas lllgl'aham.
l 98 Ebony Dan’s Musk. By Frank Dumonl.
199 Dictionary Nut, Detective. By 'I'. (7. Harhaugh.
200 The Twin Horsemen. By Capt. Frederick Whithkur.
201 Dandy Burke’s Paras. By Wm. R. Eyaler.
202 Tom, the Term-l Tlger. By Oll Coomel.
203 finln the Office Boy. By Charles Morris.
204 The Young Cowboy. Dy Cnl. Prrall‘u lngraham.
205 The Frontier Deioetive. By Edward L. Wheeler.
20“ “’hite Lightning; or, The Boy Ally. By T. C. llarbwah.
207 Kenn-ck Tnlbot’s Band. By Capt. Mark Wilton.
208 Trapper Tom’s Onstle Mynlrery. By 011 Comma.
1109 The Messenger-Boy Detective. By Charles Morr'l.
210 The Hunchback oi’ the Mines. By Joseph E. Badrer, Jr.
211 Little Giant and “is lhuldp By Philip S. Warne-

’ 212 The Jilntown Sport. By Edward 1.. Wheeler.
218 Tile/l’irntc’a Prize. By C. Dunning Clark.
214 Dandy Dave, of Shasta. By T. C. i-Iarbnugh.

r229 01d llickory’s Grit.

 

215 During Dnn, the Ranger; or, The Denver Drivrtlve.
Gnomes.

216 The Cowboy Cnptnln.
2i? Bald Head of the Rockies.

By on

By Col. Funlisa lngraham
By Maj. 5...... S. Hall.

. 218 The Miller Sport. By Edward L Wheeler.

219 Duck, the Detective. By Allwn W. Milan.

9220 Crock-Shot Frank. By Charh-a Mun-ls.

221 Merle the Middy. By Col. Prentiss lugrahmu.

222 Rosebud Ben’s Boys. By 011 Coomes.

228 Gold Conrad’s “latch-Dogs By 1‘. C. Harbnugh.

224‘1‘risky Fergus, llleiNew York Buy. By G. L. Aiken.

225 Diuk Drew, the Miner’s Son. By Edward L. Wheeler.

226 Dakota Dick in Chicago. By Charles Morris.

22'? Merle, the Boy Cruiser. By Col. I’rcnlm Inmllam.

228 The Preacher Detecilvo. By 01] Coomes.

By John J. Marshall.

280 Three Boy Sports. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.

231 sierra Rum, llle Detective. By Edward 1.. Wheeler.

232 Merle Monte‘s Treasure. By Col. Prenllu lngnhsm.

238 Rocky Rover Kit. By Ensign C. 1'). Warren. '

234 Baldy, [he Miner Chiel. By Cnpl. J. F. C. Admin.

285 Juok Slump’s Cruise. By anvr Slnrhack.

236 Sierra Sam's Double. By Edward 1.. \l'hl-sler.

237 Newsboy Ned, Delvclire. By (‘harlrs Norris.

288 Merle Montc’s Sen-Scraper. By (‘01. Prentiss lagrahal.

239 lion's 1H1: Room. By Capt. Mark Wilton.

2-10 thrp Shoot. Mike. By Oll Canines.

241 Sierra Fnln‘s ficntence. B3: Edward 1.. Vl'hevler.

2-12 The Denver Dries-live. Try '1'. C llm’bnuzh.

248 Dun-h Jan‘s Dilemma. By Maj. L. W. cm”...

244 Merle Monk"! Disguise. By (‘01. Prov-ti s lnxrsham.

245 Buldy’s Boy Partner. By E-Dard S. Ellis.

246 Deter-clu- ‘icen’l Apprcnlivv. By (‘harlvs Mania.

24? The Girl snort. By Edward L. Wheeler.

2-18 Gilmt George‘s Par-d. By Buckskin Sam.

249 Ranch Rob‘s “'ild Ride. lfiy T. C. llmhaugh.

250 Merle Montc’a Purdon. By (.‘nl. Prvllliu lugrahma.

2711 The Drnf’llcteullvc. llv Edward \\'lll>:ll.

252 Denver 0011‘: Device. By Edward L. \‘l‘hr-elpr.

253 '1‘)“. Boy Tender-foot. lly Pupl. .vlllrk Wilton.

254 Black llllls “on. By Ms). Lewis W. Camn.

$55 Jolly Jim. Detective. By Charles Mnrrls.

256 Merle Monlc's Last, Cruise. By Col. i’rrntiu lngraham.

25? The Buy Chlei‘oi’ Rocky Puss. By Maj. E. 1.. Si. Vraln.

fihflienver Doll an Detertlvc. By E. L. Whaler.

259 Little Foxeye, \hs Colorado Spy. By Oil Coomel.

260 5k”, the beln Boy. By Edward “'illeit.

261 Blade, the Spam or, The Giant of Clo-r Grit Camp. By T‘
C. llarhaugh.

262 Bill , the Boy

lngra am.

Ellis Buster Bob’s; Buoy; or, Ligo, the Hglllvliollle Racing;
By Capl. J. F. C. Adams.

201 Denver Doll’s Partner: or, Big Borklhln, the Sport. By
E. l... Whm-ler. Ready January 30.

265 Bill ' the Ba 7 Ike Ba 1 or The Young Rallmnd In).
tullv’e: By Chufg Morris. lady Febrflll’y 6-

9136 Guy's no Chum; or, The Forest Wall"- hillli. By ('apl.
Coll-stock. Bondy February 13.

26'? Giant George’s Revel: a; nr. The Boys of “Slip Up
Mlne." By Buckskin Sam. early February 90.
By

268 Dond-fihot Dandy; or The Rio Grands Marauders.
Col. Yrsnllu lnzrnhnm. Baldy Fehnulry 9'1.

280 The Quartzvilie Boas; or. Daring David Dnrhe. By
Edward Wlllett. Ready March 6.

Issued Every Wednesday.
Beadle’s Pwkot Libr-ry ll for as]: by 311 anudollen, M.
cents per copy, or uni by mall on recclpt of six cents each.
BEADL‘E AND ADAMH. Publishers, '
98 William Street, New York. ,'

Rover; or, Terror Tum of Texan. By Col. 1“.

l

l