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_ Rocky Ben’s Band;

BIG PETE’S BIG- HAUL.

BY W. J. HAMILTON,

AUTHOR or “Mm TOM WESTERN," “SINGLE
HAND,” ETC., ETC.

 

CHAPTER I.
THE WILD MAN OF THE HILLS.

“LOOK out, you painter critter!” cried a
rough voice, “ unlest you want to tumble down
into the gulch. B mighty snakes, of you was
to fall, thar woul n’t be enough of you left to
grease a cart, now mind you.” _

The speaker stood upon a rocky ledge, In one
of the wildest passes of the Rocky Mountains,
north of the Missouri. A grand scene, at which
an artist would have been delighted. High
above them, peak on peak, rese the snow-capped
mountains, leaming white against the sky.
Well has a distinguished writer said, “ there is
no such country on earth, I verily believe, as
ours.” Truly we are rich in mountains, in
grand waterfalls, in mighty rivers flowing
through a thousand miles of grand and beautiful
scenery, and in great lakes, which in their wide
expanse may well claim the title of seas. But
amid many wild scenes, not the Alps or any
mountain range in Europe can compare with
the Rocky Mountains, upon whose peaks, high
up amid the winter snow, Fremont set the glit-
tering flag of the Republic.

Two men stood together upon the ledge, look—
ing with admiration and wonder at'the grand
panorama spread out before them. At their
very feet yawned a gulf, five hundred feet in
depth, the sides covered with vines and stunted
shrubs springing out from every crevice in the
rocks, and clinging to jutting points upon the
faces of the cliffs or twining about the roots of
the shrubbery. ,Deep at the base, a narrow
mountain stream ran swiftly on, bubbling over
the huge stones in its channels, whirling in eccen-
tric circles, and dropping with a musical sound
from rock to rock. Yet, small and insignificant
as this little stream was, it was the source of
one of the mighty rivers of the West, taking in
tributaries as it flowed onward, until, upon the
great prairie, it swept on a vast stream, to join
its volume to the“ father of Waters,” the mighty
Mississippi.

Before them lay the rent plain, dotted here
and there with clumpso timber, and permeated

by many silver streams, all bending toward.

the great stream to which they were tribu-
tnry. It was summer, and the short prairie-
gruss was gently waving in the passing breeze,
iving the locker-on the idea of a vast sea, rest—
em as that un uiet flood.

“ Don’t be a raid of my falling, Pete,” replied
the person addressed. “I am too mach of a
sailor to grow dizzy in looking from a height.”

“Then you’ve sailed the sea, hev you?” said
the first speaker. “It’sa strange thing to me
theta man of sense should trust his life a thou-

Rocky Ben’s Band.

 

  

sand miles from land, an’ nuthin’ but a plank
to keep out the water. Now, look yer; water is
a good enutf thing to drink, of so be ye kain’t
git a morsel of whisky to give it countenance,
so to speak, but it ain’t my style to travel on,
and that’s a fact."

He was a large, sinewy, muscular, hard-fea-
tured man, in the garb of a mountaineer and
trapper, a fringed hunting—shirt and Jeggins,
moccasins and beaver cap comprising his dress.
Of course he wore a belt, sustaininga heavy
hatchet, and in the breast-pocket of his hnnt-
ing-shirt was a suspicious—looking protuberance,
telling of the hidden revolver, aterrible wea-
pon inexperienced hands, in a close combat.
A rifle of the “Sharpe” patent rested in the
hollow of his arm, his fingers closing protect-
ingly across the lock, while a powder—flask and
bullet—pouch completed his equipments.

His companion was a. younger person, also of
muscular frame, whose bronzed face showed
plainly, that although a. gentleman in every
sense of the word, he had not spent his youth in
the enervating life of a. man of fashion ina
great city. While his face was handsome, it
was not effcminate, and his eyes were sharp and
firm. He were no heard, with the exception of
a heavy mustache, which set off his sun—em-
browned face well. He was armed like his
companion in every respect, but suspended by a.
green cord thrown over the loft shonldvr and
passed across to the right hip, he carried an
artist’s portfolio, which he was now detaching
from its support, with his eye still fixed upon
the grand scene before him.

This second person was Ethelbert Grandison,
artist, naturalist and traveler—a man who, un—
der another name, has earned a reputation
which is world wide. and which has won for
him the gold medal of the learned societies of
London and Paris. He had been a traveler
from boyhood, and though but thirty years of
age, had hunted the elephant in the midst of
wild African scenery, the tiger in the jungles of
Asia, and the grizzly bear in his mountain
home. Free of heart, ready of hand, hold in
the hour of danger, and, withal, modest as a
girl in relation to his exploits, he was a favorite
with all, and was already beloved by the moun-
tain-men and trappers with whom he had be-
come acquainted.

“ What an" you a—goin’ to do now, you born
devil?” said the mountaineer, with a grin.
“You don’t tell me you ar’ gwine to roost on
this yer’ rock, and make a picter of it?”

“ That is a remarkable instance of penetration
on your part, my big friend,” replied the artist,
with a smile. ‘ .

“I s’pose you’d squat thar and make your
picter of a grizzly bar should happen along,”
suggested Big Pete, in high dudgeon. “You
don’t happen to know we ar’ ten miles from
camp, and it ain‘t two hours from sunset?"

“ It won’t take me twenty minutes to get the
outlines, I want, Pete. Come, be reasonable, as
you can be. I came out here to sketch as well

as hunttand I must do it.”

Big Pete, with a dissatisfied grunt, sat down
upon a. small bowlder, watching the rapid pen-
cil of the artist, as he transferred the outlines 0
the beautiful scene to his portfolio. It was 1111

 

 

    

 

work for the mountaineer, who had nature’s
book before him; so he rose, after awhile, and
strolled down a narrow path which led toward
the bottom of the gulch, telling Grandison t0
whistle when he wanted him. The artist worked
steadily, oblivious to every thing except the
scenery before him, and had nearly finished the
outlines of his sketch, when a startled cry from
below called his attention, and, flinging down
his book, he unslung his rifle and was changed
instantly from the artist to the hunter, his
eyes blazing with the hunter’s fire. The sound
of rushing feet was heard, and Big Pete ap-
peared, dashing up the mountain-path at a.
speed which terror only could inspire. His
brown face had turned to a sickly white, and
he looked wildly behind him, as if expecting
pursuit.

“ What is the matter, Pete? Speak quick l”

“ Don’t stop to talk, but git; that’s the word,

it !”

Satisfied that no common danger could have
shaken the nerve of the bravest among the
mountain-men, Big Pete Burns, who went into
a tight with Indian or grizzly with a desperate
courage which few men could equal, Ethelbert
hastily slung his portfolio over his shoulder and
followed his companion down the mountain-

ath.

p “Thar he is, their,” screamed Pete. “But
thank fol-tin he ain’t- artcr us!"

“Who is it? What is it? I’m not going to
run any further until T understand what I am
running from,” cried Ethelbert. halting.

“ Look that!” replied the big guide.

Following the extended finger of the moun-
taineer with a rapid glance, the artist gazed
down into the gulch, and there, springing from
rock to rock in the foaming channel, he saw a
strange figure, which from time to time gave a
hideous laugh, which sent a thrill through the
strong nerves even of the young traveler—a
gigantic figure covered from the crown of the
head to the sole of the foot with shaggy hair,
with long. powerful limbs and broad shoulders,
holding in his right hand a heavy club which
none but a giant could wield—a being the proto-
type of which the naturalist had never seen. It
was larger than either of the men, and seemed
nothing mortal, and the laugh was like the
scream of the panther.

“'What horrible thing is this?” cried Ethel-
bert, turning to his companion, who was in
mortal terror.

“ I’ll tell you what it is,” replied Pete. “It’s
nyther mom nor less,than the ‘Wild Man of
the Hills.’ That’s what it is.”

“ And who or what is the Wild Man of the
Hills?” demanded Grandison. '

“I reckon you’ve got me thar, boss,” replied
Pete, still gazing after the figure of the Wild be-
in

83- V
As he spoke he saw the creature plant the end
of the club he carried upon a rock, swing him—

self around a jutting cliff, and disappear.

I ain’t been skeereil 30

bar, he’s gone.
I reckon

sence my mother fu’st spanked me.

we’d better git out our bosses, and when we ar’
on the road I’ll tell you all I know of the critter
they call the ‘ Wild Man of the Hills.’ ”

They hurried down the mountain together,

Rocky Ben’s Randi: - I 3

 

.1

but it was over an hour before they reacnea the
foothills, among which their horses had been
concealed. They found them as they had been
left, tethered in a little sheltered glade, kept
from straying by the long lariat fastened to a
peg driven into the ground. Mounting their
horses, the two headed them toward the plain.

“Now, then, Pete,” said the artist, impatient-
ly; “ tell me about this strange being.”

“ It’s over two years scnce he was fu’st seen
in this yer region, and it’s bin a bad time fer
us, you bet! The boys say, and I’m afeard it’s
true, that he ain‘t noways mortal, and I sort 0’
reckon it’s true. Anyhow, it’s bad luck fer a
man, be he white, blackvor red, to meet the Wild
Man in the hills.”

“ How so?"

“ I kuin’t say how, you understand, but of a
man meets him he's sart’in to see a dead body
afore the day is gone, and, mou’t be, his own
body will lay dead in the tangled grass, with
his rkull smashed like an egg-shell.”

“ That is sheer superstition, Pete. I cannot
believe it.”

“ All right,” replied Pete, in a sulky tone.
“ I’m a liar, then, that’s all—a‘durned outrage-
ous liar. I reckon you’d better choose yer words
a little better, or I’ll raise ycr ha’r.”

“I am not gomg to quarrel with you, Pete,
and am far from doubting your word; but. do
you know this of your own knowledge or by
hearsay evidence?”

“ Ain’t I “sen it done? Didn’t I find Bob
Frazee, fror . Middle Gap, with his head pound-
ed ez soft r1 a b’iled potater, the same day Tom
Cristy seen the Wild Man? To be sure, Bob
Frazee was a most owdashus vill’in, and ef we’d
’a’ caught him he’d ’a’ bin strung up by the
neck but that’s all the same. And didn‘t I see
the ild Man onc’t afore, in Dead Man’s Gulch,
and afore night we found a stranger dead in the
Gulch killed the same way?”

“ Umph! This is certainly remarkable, and
only goes to prove lhat this strange creature
takes delight in slaying men.”

“ Yes, and that ain’t all. Every one I ever
see dead, or beam tell of, was a rascal cf the
wu’st kind. The critter seems to take pleasure
in rubbiu’ out the olf—scourin’s of the mount’ius;
it’s a queer thing.”

At this moment, as they were riding at a
brisk trot by the mouth of the canyon, the horse
which Ethelhert rode, a spirited animal, shied
with such violence that the young artist, although
a consummate horseman, very nearly lost his
saddle, and kept it only by a powerful effort.

‘ By this time, Big Pete had recovered from the

scare which the appearance of the Wild Man
had given him, and, though his own trained
mustang was plunging violently, he turned his
head toward the canyon, drawing his revolver
as he did so. Mastering his horse, the young
artist followed, and found the horse of the
trapper with his forelegs rigid as iron bars,
half-sitting upon his haunches, and resolutely
refusing to advance, although his flanks were
gored by the long Mexican spurs worn by the
old guide. Pete now leaped out of the saddle
and ran forward, when he suddenly rccoiled
with a low cry of horror. Grandison tied his
lariat to a point of rock and Ljoined him, and

v

 

    

4

saw what it was which had so alarmed the
horses.

Upon the bare rocks, just beyond the point, lay
the body of a man of the mountains, dressed in
buckskin, with a black belt about his waist in
which hung a heavy knife and pistols.

“A Greuser,” said Pete, giving the name by
which the Mexicans are known among moun—
tain-men. “ What did I tell you, boss? Now
say I’m a liurl Now tell me that it don’t mean
anything to meet the IVild Man in the hills,
will you?"

“ It is plain that this terrible creature has.
slain the man,” replied the artist, “ and if I am
any judge of faces, this dead man must rank
with those whom you know to have been slain.
He was not a good man, at best.”

“Good man’.l Phew; git out! How you talk!
'Who ever hern tell of a good or true Greaser,
say 14"

“ I have, many a one. But let that pass.
How shall we dig a grave for him?"

“ I don’t see no use of it, but of you a1" sot on
it, I’ll. show ye how to do it without the trouble
of diggin’ a hole; though I don’t take kindly to
it and nyther would you of you’d ’a’ stood what
I ev from them Greasers.”

By the sides of the stream were many crevices
of various sizes and depths, and in one of these,
out of the reach of buzzards or prowlingr beasts,
they laid the dead man down to rest. Over the
body they piled a heap of stones picked up from
the floor of the canyon, and then left him to his
long sleep, beside the dancing Water. The two
men, with sober faces, dashed across the river
and rode hard over the prairie, through the
short grass, never slackening rein until they saw
1n the gathering gloom before them—for dark-
ness was coming on—a camp-fire gleaming
brightly.

“ Now, cuss all obstinit fools,” muttered the
big guide. “ What call had they to build a lirc
like that? I’ll bet you two and a lznlf cents
that’s the work of that darned chap you brought
out with you."

“ VVheever it is, he is much to blame, knowing
the danger he brings upon us all.”

“ Who comes thar?” ,cried a voice from a
clump of bushes. “Speak, unless you want to
git rubbed out right smart.”

“ Grandison and Big Pete,” replied Burns.

“ All right, Pete,” replied the same voice.
“ Come along quick, fer 1 want you.”

CHAPTER II.
FEATHERBY’S NIGHT-CAP.

THE camp in which the tire blazed was
situated upon the bank of the stream, and,
although the trees upon the opposite bank
shielded it from the view of persons upon that
side of the current, it was plainly visible from‘
that part of the prairie from which Ethelbert
and the guide approached. Two or three men
in the garb of hunters and trappers were loung-
ing upon the grass, smoking pipes cut from the
root of the sweet-brier, and a fourth person
Was crOUChing'over the blaze, puffing iuvli'ls-
triously at a large meerschaum. This man was
a strange figure to find upon the Western plains,
and was evidently regarded with little to vor by

 

Rocky Ben’s Band.

 

the company. He was dressed in an English

shootingcostume, a short “ cut—away ” coat and
pants, and wore a marvelously small cap perched
upon the summit of his cranium.

“ Aw, Bertie, old fellah, glad you’ve come in!
if I ain’t, demmel Where have you kept your-
seli’ all day?”

“ Confound it, man, what do you mean by
building such a fire as that in an Indian coun-
try ?” replied Ethelbert.

“ Fiahi You don’t suppose I’m going to catch
cold on account of a few coppah—colahed In—
dians, do you? I didn’t think that of you, Bertie
Grandison.”

“ You’ll git yer ha’r raised, you will!” growled
Pete Burns, as he kicked the blazing brands
into the river. “ Durn me fur a red-skin of you
don’t desarve it, too. Why, blame my cats,
Noddy, what did you let him make such a. blaze
fur?

“He would do it, Pete,” grumbled the man
who had met them, a burly, thick-set fellow, in
a greasy hunting—shirt and leggios. “ I told the
blamed idiot to quit, but jest so soon as my back
was turned. he’d rake up the coals again, and pile
on more wood. Here, you, stranger, you put
that wood down, or I’ll bu'st you right in the
jaw, you bet high on it.”

“ Why, yah low dem’d scoundrel, what do yah ,

mean?” said the exquisite, rising. “ I’d have you
understand that I am a man of education; I
speak five languages, sah I”

“You don’t!” said Pete Burns. “Then I’d
hev you understand thet out h yar on the pra’ry
we only speak one language, and durned little
of that I"

“ You talk mighty big, stranger, you do!”
said the man called Noddy, “ and I’d give you
to know that Noddy Forrester is a tough colt to
hit, he is, and would think no more of givingr
you a back-handed sweep that’d wipe you off
the face of the immortal world than he would of
pickin’ the marrer-boue of a buffler,"

“ Silence all!” criel Ethelbert, sternly. “ You
men, he more respectful to my friend, Mr.
Featherby, and I will answer for it that he will
not trouble you. As for you, Oscar Featherby,
if you cannot conform to the rules of the prairie,
upon keeping which our safety depends, the
quicker you get back to one of the forts the bet-
ter for all concerned."

“ You talk as if I didn’t know anything,
Bertie,” replied Featherby, in an angry tone.
“ I’ve paraded some of our fellahs in London at
tWelve paces for saying less than that.”

“N onscnsel You don’t want to fight any
more than I d 3, Mr. Featherby, and ought to
know better than to build a fire in an open
prairie. It’s the hunting season, and many sav-
ages are on the plains, and it is impossible to say
what may happen."

“The Injins won’t trouble us hyar jest now,”
said Pete. “ ’Tain’t them I’m afraid of so much
as Rocky Ben.”

“ Rocky Ben?”

“ Ay, Rocky Ben. You don’t happen to know
the durned critter as well as I do. What of I
tell you that in yonder mountains, som’ers, that‘s

a hand 0’ men who kin more that ekal the Black:

feet in deviltry—men alongside of whom Red
Wing, the Sioux, is a born angel, and the Paw-
nees saints.” , ,

a

 
  
   
  
   
  
    
 
 
 
 

 

 

 
  
 
  
 
  
  

  

    

 

 

mww s, .

Rocky Ben’s Band.

/4

 

“Look heah, you chap,” said Foatherby.
“ Don’t talk that way; it’s f .ollsh, you know.”

“No, I don’t know, nytl .er. Never mind, if
Rocky Ben ketches you e’ll let you know
whether it’s so or not! But build yer fire, build
yer fire, and bring ’em dov l on us.”

Featherby’s courage, likx that of Bob Acres,
began to “ ooza out of his palms.”

"It’s ridiculous for a man like me to come
into this heathen country; oh, dem it! I don’t
want to build a flab if you don’t think it best.
Say, Bertie, let’s go back. We’ve seen enough
of this dem’d country. you know.‘.’

“ You said one durned true thing, stranger,"
said Neddy, with a grin. “ It is rediculous,
durned rediculous, fur a man like you to come

out hyar. That Rock Ben would eat you up
at a mouthful, but I on’t think he’d relish the
meal.”

“Hold up,” said Pete, suddenly striking his
hand upon his knee. “ Rocky Ben ain’t fur off,
and I’ve seen one of his men to-day.”

“ “’har?” demanded. Ned, uneasily.

“He won’t trouble, anyhow,” said Pete, and
drawing closer to his companion, he related the
story of the meeting with the Wild Man, and
afterward the finding the dead body of the
Mexican in the pass. “The Greaser wore a.
black belt with a. steel buckle, and hyar it is,”
said Pete, holding up the belt which he had
taken from the body of the slain man. “ N W,
look at this sign on the buckle—abirdflying
upward. That’s the sign of Rocky Ben, King
of the Mountains.”

“ And who is Rocky Ben?” demanded Ethel-
bert, taking the belt.

“ He’s a heathen Philis’tine, ared-handed mur-
derer, that hez ha’nted the hills fur three year
and more—a born thief, that steals byline and
level, as the sayin’ is. Hosses, traps, pcltries,
guns; everything’s fish that comes to hls not.”

“ Did any of you ever see him!”

All answered in the negative.

“ Then you do not know what_he is like?”

“ Nary time.”

“Does he meddle with peaceful parties like
this?”

“ Meddle with ’em? Rather; you betl He don’t
keer to kill peopleofl’ unlest they happen to see his
face, and if they do, they git rubbed out. I
was in a party that he robbed onc’t, when we
was trapping forty miles north of this, on the
North Red. Thar was five of us together, and
he cum down on us with twenty men, every
durned one masked, and had us afore we could
sar ‘boo!’ He stole everything, bosses, traps,
pelts and shooters, ’ceptin’ one old gun that he
left with us so that we mou’t git somethin’ to
eat. VVhon they went away one of ’em turned
back and told me to charge it to Rocky Ben,
and come to Dead Man’s Gulch any time and
he’d pay me. I sort 0’ reckon I didn’t come,
and I ain’t got my pay. But, if that Bird ever
comes in reach of my rifle, he’ll suffer. He
done me another injury one’t, and I ain’t forgot
it

“ What was that?”

“ I don‘t -keer to talk of it. I’m a rough bor-
derman, and fur me to talk of love, and that
sort, to you, would make you laugh, perhaps.
It was about a. woman, and I reckon the’r’ at

an #-

 

the hpttom of half the quarrels, all the world
over.

“I believe you are right in that. Pete. But
come; let us see to the safety of our camp, and
then get something to eat. Who is on guard
tonight?”

“ I am,” said one of the hunters, knocking the
ashes from his pipe. “Unless that long chap
means to take his turn.”

The “long chap” referred to was the fast-inat-
ing Featherby, who looked daggers at the
rough-spoken borderman.

“These men don’t seem to have any ideah of
the fitness of. things, Bertie,” he said. “ The
ideah, that I, the Honorable Oscar Flint Feath-
erhy, should stand guard like a common sojerl
Atwociousl”

“ Don’t trouble yourself, Featherby,” replied
Grandisou. “ No one is going to trust the
safety of the camp to your watchful care, you
may depend, so say no more about it. Watkins,
you must keep a sharp eye out, for if this bloody
Bird is near it is not safe to sleep anionient.
Who relieves you on guard?”

“ Sartou, the Frenchman.”

“Very good. You had better take your sta-
tion; and let me again caution you to be watch—
ful, and give the alarm if any danger comes
near. Do not fire unless it is absolutely neces—
sary, for the report of a rifle might guide our
enemies upon us.”

Watkins rose, took up his rifle and looked
closely at the lock, and walked out of the camp
to the edge of the little grove, where the guard
was stationed. Featherby now began to open a
large valise which lay upon the ground beside
him, from which he took a number of toilet ar-
ticles, a tooth-brush and cup among others. Into
the cup he poured some fragrant substance from
a bottle, and began to scrub his teeth vigorously,
while the guides looked on in silent disdain, as
Ethelbert and Pete made a hasty meal upon some
cold venison and crackers, for they did not care
to light a fire. Featherhy was a slip from an
honorable English family, who, fired by the ad-
ventures which tho young traveler had narrated,
at their dinners in London, had given him no rest
until he had agreed to make him a. companion on
a trip to the prairies of the West. The party of
scouts and guides selected by Ethelbert despised
him as much as they respected the former, and
only refrained from an open quarrel with him
for the sake of their employer, who had won
their heal ts by manly and gallant conduct upon
many occasions.

They had now been out six weeks hunting and
exploring, and Ethelbert’s portfolio was full of
magnificent sketches of mountain scenery, and
he had sent to the fort a number of specimens of
rare plants, animals and geological wonders.
Featherby looked askance at him as he took the
ribs of venison in his fingers, and ate with a keen
appetite, and evidently thought that there was
a marked difference between Ethelbert Grandi-
son in London and the some person on the rai-
rie. Having cleansed his teeth, he took out rem
the valise something which brought a roar of
laughter from the guides, and even Ethelberl:
could not refrain from a smile.

It was a night-cap! Think of that, hunters ot

 

6 Rocky Ben’s Baud.

 

the W’estl As they began to laugh he turned
angrily upon them.

“ What are yah laufing at, men?”

“ A night-cap, by mighty l” roared Neddy
Forrestery “ That beats nothing all to pieces.
He orter hev a piller, by gracious! I’d like to
know what in thunder he come out here for
without any of the conveniences of life?”

“Let him alone, Noddy,” interposed the art-
ist, restraining his own laughter, with an
effort. ” If hellkesto wearanight-cap, let him."

“ Allow me to ask if yah see anything wrong
in this night-cup as a night~cup, Mistah Gremli—
son?” demanded the irate Englishman.

“ Nothing whatever,” replied Ethelbert “ As
a night-cap, it is a decided success. Let us say
no more about it, but try and get some sleep, for
in the morning I have a plan to work out which
will give us plenty to do.”

They wrapped their blankets about them, and
lay down upon the fragrant grass. The moon
rose slowly in the clear sky, and looked down
upon the sleeping camp. There they lay, sleep—
ing as soundly as though no thought of danger
was near them, and oblivious to all things with-
out.

' hen the night was half gone, Watkins
came gliding into camp with silent tread, and
aroused the Frenchman, Sartou, who rose quiet—
ly, took his rifle and disappeared, while Wat—
kins took his blanket and lay down with the
rest.

Another hour passed, and at the time when
their senses were most closely wrapped in slum—
her, there came pcaling on the clear air of night
a frightful cry—so loud, so long, so full of fierce
intent, that every man was on his feet with a
bound, grasping his ready rifle, while they
waited for the expected rush of the savages
which they thought at hand. But after that
wild cry, nothing was heard except the wailing
of the night wind through the trees.

 

CHAPTER III.
IN DANGER or BEN.

“ SARTOU!” cried Grzindison, bending forward
in the direction of the place where the man stood
on guard.

No voice replied, and parting the bushes, the
young man darted to the place where he had
stood, and saw a dark object lying; at the foot of
a tree. To rush forward, followed by the bor-
dermen, was his first thought, and they saw it
was Sartou, the Frenchman, dead. They lifted
the body silently and carried it into the camp,
upon which a great hush had fallen since they
had stood so suddenly in the presence of death.
They laid him ently down.

We have saig but little of Sartou, for he was
a tnciturn, retiring man, of a dark and moody
nature, who had taken no part in the conversa-
tion about the camp-fire that night. Grandison
had found him at Leavenworth, after he had
engaged the other men, and had taken him be-
cause he claimed to have a perfect knowledge of
a section not so well known to the other guides.
And since he had come out, they had not learned
to like him any better. for he had kept himself
apart from all the rest, and had a sly, suspicious
look at times upon his dark face. -

How he had been slain was not a mystery, for

 

he had received a terrible blow from some heavy
weapon, which had fractured his skull. His
hands were firmly clinched, and in one of them
he held something at which the artist looked
with a cry of surprise.

What was it?

A powerful rocket, such as is used in signaling
on landl

A doubt arose in the mind of the young trav-
eler, and he called Pete Burns to look at the
article.

“ Immortal snakes! what’s that fur, boss?"

“That is what I do not understand. Sartou
evidently had this in his hand, for What purpose
I am at a loss to judge, when he was stricken
down so suddenly. It would seem that he meant
to signal some one with this rocket."

“ It’s durned queer he should keep it hid from
us,” said Pete, in a. musing tone. “ I don’t know
nothin’ about the man, but this looks mighty
skeery. “'al, let’s dig a hole fur him.”

“See what he has in his pockets before we
bury him. If there.is anything of value, it had
better be returned to his friends.”

“Nobody knowed him at the fort,” said
Peter, as he began to turn the pockets inside
out. There was little in them of value, but
happening to touch his side, he felt there a hard
substance; and opening his hunting-shirt, found
that the hard substance was underneath the
woolen shirt worn next the skin.

“Thur’s a pocket here.” muttered the guide,
unbuttoning the shirt. He thrust his hand in,
touching the naked skin of the yet warm body,
and drew out two more rockets of the same
make as the one they had found, a pocketbook
of sheep-skin evidently well filled, and a crum-
pled paper. He laid the three before the artist
who opened the paper and read by the light of
a match of wax these words:

“When they sleep and you are on the watch. send
up a blue rocket. f they are suspicious, send up a.
red. If other company joins them, the yellow. B."

“ This begins to look ominous,” said the artist,
taking up the pocketbook. In it he found hills
and gold to the amount of over eight hundred
dollars.

Here was proof positive. Sartou had pleaded
for a position with them on the ground that his
money had been won from him unfairly in a.
game of cards and that he was entirely destitute.
It was plain that this was false, and that he had
attached himself to the party for some other
purpose, probably not a good one. Who was
“ B,” and why had the signal rockets been given
to the dead man?

“ We are hemmed in by mysteries,” said the
young artist. “Here is a man who professed
to be poor, carrymg upon his person a large
sum in notes and current bills, and keeping
hidden both this fact and the one that he had
these signal rockets concealed. He is silent and
non—committal, has but little sympathy with us,
and died with this signal in his hand. The
question is whom did he design to call, and was
he a good or bad man?"

“ A darned outrageous bad ’un, sir,” said the
man called Neddy. “Look hyar.”-

Below the hunting-shirt of the dead man he
had found a black belt, close] encirling the
body, and upon the silver buck e was engraVed

,HF‘ \N ha;

Wan—x"; 54.1.“; M... . :.-..-._.

 

 

44‘4h A  fl

 

Rocky Ben’s Band: ». r .7

the bird flying upward, the sign of Rocky Ben,
King 0’ the Mountains!

“That’s it!” muttered Pete. “They ar’round
about us as thick as fleas. That bloody l'ip
Rocky Ben hez got his eye on this party and
means to rob us.” _

“ Where do you think he is?”

“ Somewhar on the river, waitin‘ fur the sig-
nal. He sot this Frenchman on us, I’ll bet my
life. Of course that ‘ B’ stands for ‘ Bird.’
What d’ye think of that?”

“It looks reasonable, certainly. That being
the case, the quicker we get out of this the bet-
ter for us, for I don’t propose to remain here
and become the prey of that buzzard Bird or
any other mountain robber. If they can hide,
so can we, and doubtless there are many places
in these mountains which even they know noth—
ing of. Is it not so?”

“ I reckon."

“ Then let us first bury this dead Scoundrel,
not so much for him, but that his friend and
leader may not know that he is slain.”

“ That’s good talk, boss. Yaas, let’s plant the
durned skunk.”

With this feeling remark, the guide, assisted
by Noddy and Watkins. proceeded to dig a hole
in the soft earth of the prairie, and wrapping
the body in a blanket, they covered it with
loose earth and built a fire above it, to hide the
signs, knowing that they were watched by an
enemy who knew just where to look for them.

During this exciting scene no one had even
thought of Featherby, and when they turned
to look for him, he was nowhere to be seen!

“That blamed fool hev absquatulatcd.” said
Pete. “I hope to gracious that the Wild Man
has gobbled him up.”

“He wur hyar, five minutes ago,” replied
Neddy Forrester. “ Hi, you; Foathvrbed!”

“ Featherbyl" cried Grandison. “Where are

on?”

“ Featherbed, you; hi1” growled Pete.

But Feather-by, alias Featherbed, made no

51 .

g‘PFIe's made his lucky, I guess," said Pete.
“Whar in thunder could he hev gone? Git a
chunk and light it. IV a], I ain’t got no special
good will fur the critter, and I do think that he
orter hev his head broke, but I don’t want to
see him snatched by a red. Hyar, you! Feath-
bed; hil”

But, Featherby was mute, even if he heard
their voices. Watkins took a blazing brand
from the fire and walked along by the bank
of the river followed by the rest. They reach-
ed a marshy place filled with dark stagnant
water and mud almost liquid, when there was a
cry of surprise and delight from Pete, as he saw
the peaked nightcap of Featherby protruding
from the soil. The exquisite heard the yell
which attended the death of Sartou, and, think-
ing that the whole tribe of the Blackfeet was up
on him, be instantly sought safety in flight. In
his blind haste he had tumbled headlong into
this slimy pool, and while struggling to obtain a
footing, he got his feet upon a proiectmg root,
and there remained, up to his neck in mud and
water. Aristocratic though he was, he prefor-
red the shelter of this stagnant pool to the doubt-

 

ful safety of dry land.

“41w” _,

":Hal" roared Pete. “ No catches, no babes)”

“ Oh, good Mistah Indian, help me. Don’t scalp
inc—I’m helpless I” roared the cockney.

“ Featherbed,” said Pete, “ I’ve half a mind to
drown’d you.” '

“ Oh, it is you, eh? Didn’t know I was mak-
ing believe, did yah?” said Featherby.

“ N yther did you, Featherbed,” replied Pete.
“ Oh, say, don‘t try to come them games over
us natives, ’cause elf you do, I’ll raise yer ha’r
right off yer head, yas, I will.”

“ Help me out,” said Featherby.

“ Help yerself; you’re welcome! I've got a
prejidice ag’in’ helpin’ them that won’t help
themselves.”

A rope was thrown to the unfortunate dandy,
and he was dragged by main force from his un-
pleasant position, amid the delighted chuckles
of the trappers.

“ Had a night-cap, he did,” said Neddy.

“ Now he’s got a night-gown. Featherbed, hil
come out of that 1"

So speaking, they tugged at the rope, and the
body of Featherby was dragged further out of
the water. He rose, with» the water dripping
from every point of his body, and eel—gram and
slimy leaves hanging about him, and a coat of
mud from the crown of his head to the sole of
his foot.

“ Now ain’t this wediculous, Grandison,” said
he. “ Who evah heard of such a dweadful con-
twetcmps ?”

“ Never heard it called that afore, Feather-
bed," said Pete.

“How daah you call me Featherbed, sah?"

“ Ain’t that yer name, stranger?”

“ Featherby—b y-by, by.”

“ All right, Featherby-b-y—by. I think Fea-
therbed is more soothin’, don"t you? ’Tenny—
rate, you’d Ilk(‘ to git into one. How did you
git in that mash?” (marsh)

“ I fell in, sab,” replied Featherby, wrath—
fully. “ I thought you could see that.”

“ Wal, I sorter begin to realize it, Featherby-
b-y-by,’" said Pete, grinning. “ But I should
judge that a man that’s so pesky keerful of his
good close orter chose a cleaner place, though I
don’t reckon you had much time to pick.”

“ You see, Grandison," snid Featherby, turn-
ing his back upon the guide, “ I heard the In-
dians when they made the attack, and I thought
I’d go round behind. and attack ’em in the reah,
while you took ’em in front; see. the point?”

“ Yes,” said Grandison, dryly. “ I see it.
Only, unfortunately for your theory, we were
not attacked by Indians.”

H He ?”

“ We were not assailed at all. , Sartou is
killed, but, upon searching his body, we find
that he joined us only to betray us, and who-
ever killed him did a good deed, as he was on the
point of sending up a rocket to bring the enemy
upon us. But come; we have no time to waste,
as we must change our camp immediately.”

“ Change our camp? Why ?”

“ We are in danger from the robber band of
Rocky Ben, and he knows where we are.”

“ Good gwaciousl _You don’t mean that, do
yah’il I don‘t like the ideah.”

“ I don’t suppose you do, but we did not in-
tend to consult you on the subject. Are your

 

  

8

 

Rocky Ben’s Band.

 

rifle and pistols loaded, Feather-by?” demanded
Ethelbert.

“ Then mount and keep silent. Pete, take the
lead and be careful.”

And forming in Indian file, they turned to-
ward the hills.

CHAPTER 1V.
BIG PETE’S PROMISE.

THE moon had gone down, and except for the
intimate knowledge of the prairie which the
guide possessed, they would have been as sorely
tried to find their way as mariners upon 3. lim-
itless sea, without a compass to guide them on
their way. Even the cockney felt the necessity
of caution. and refrained from the use of his
tongue. Talkative as the trappers can be at
the camp—fire when there is no need of caution,
they can be as silent as the Indian on the war-
path when occasion requires, and they showed
this quality now. Even the horses seemed to
share the sense of danger showed by their

. masters, and trod on with cautious steps. Sud—
denly Pete, who still led the party, halted his
horses with a rapid hand, and rode back to the
side of Graudison, Whispering to them all as he
passed to change their course, and follow him.
Featherby would have spoken, but Pete clasped
his hand upon his mouth with a menacing ges-
ture, and he remained silent. After riding a
hundred yards or so, the guide paused upon
the verge of a low clump of prairie timber, and
dismounted, signing to them to follow the
example.

“ Aw, now, you know—” Featherby began to
draw] out, when he was stopped by the phenom-
enon of a glittering knife, within an inch of his
breast. The knife was in the hands of Pete
Burns.

“ Silence, fur your life i” he whispered.

Featherby was open to moral suasion, couched
in such pressing terms. lie gasped and obeyed,
and scarcely was the knife lowered when a
troop of horsemen passed them at a rapid trot,
going toward their old camp. They flitted by,
like silent ghosts, and although it was hard to
count them in that gloom, Grandison could
judge by their front and flink that they num—
bered at least eighty men, well mounted.
Featherby began to understand the danger now,
and supposing this party to be the Indians he so
dreaded, he literally gasped for breath in his
deadly fear. But the rest of the party stood as
immovable as statuary, while the troop passed
within twenty yards of them with jingling
rowels and martingales. As the sound of the
boots died away in the distance, Pete sprung
into the saddle.

“ Keep together now, and ride as if you rode
for life. Don’t stop to think of anything but
how to put as much distance as you kin between
the inimy and us."

“ Who are they, Pete?” said Ethelbert, as he
mounted.

“ Rocky Ben and his gang, I reckon. Least-
wags they ride like them. Stick in your spurs
an away."

Away! The prairie spun by them in their
headlong course over the rass, and Featherby,
fearful of being left behind, rode as he never

l
\

 

rode before, his knees tucked up nearly to his
chin. and his teeth almost rattling in their sock—
ets.
no pause for him, he never staid his headlong
course, and actually kept neck and neck with
Ethelbert.

“Bravo, old boy,” cried Grandison. “You
are doing nobly.”

“I don’t take an pleasure in it, you know,”
grumbled the Eng ishinan. “ Ca-ca-ca-can’t
you hold on a little?”

“Couldn’t think of it,” replied Grandison.
“ We must keep up this pace for an hour at
least.”

“Aw; good gwaciousi
long.”

“Oh, yes, you can. It is better to suffer a
little by hard riding than to be caught by Rocky
Ben and his rufflan crew, and left weaponless on
the rairie, breaking up all m lans.’

“ 3—b-b—but, how, i-if we iii-break all our
necks?”

“Never mind a small thing like that. Hur—
rah! It's a wild life they lead on the prairie,
and I love it."

Featherby lacked the enthusiasm of his com-
panion, and could not see any pleasure in such
alife, full as it was of varied perils. But he
nerved himself to keep with the rest until even
Pete Burns was satisfied with the distance he
had put between them and the ghostly band
which had passed them on the heath.

“ They hev waited in vain fur the signal of
Sartou. and ar’ goin’ down to see about it,” said
Pete. “They’ll wait long afore he gives a sig-
no], I reckon.”

“ We are under obligations to the invsterious
hand which laid him low,” replied Ethelbert.
“ Without that we might have been surprised
while sleeping."

“,I hev heard the cry of the Wild Man onc’t
store, and I know it now," said Pete. “He
and no other killed Sartou.”

H  I”

“I’m talkin’. I ain’t quite sartain in m
mind whether or not the Wild Man ain’t frien -
1y to them that ar’ honest. ’Teunyrate, I'll
never pull trigger on him ef I kin help itI”

“There is no danger from these ruifians to-
night, Pete. They cannot follow us until morn—
ing. Let us take it easy, and we shall soon be
among the foothills.”

The path led them through the passes of the
foothills, as the approaches to mountain ranges
in the great West are called, over a broken and
precipitous ascent, and over flinty rocks and
shales upon which their horses’ feet left no
marks. But the guide did not intend to trust
altogether to this, and halting in a sheltered
pass, he cut a blanket into small squares and
tied them over the hoofs of the horses in such a
way that they left no track upon the occasional
spots of earth over which they passed. Now
they descended into sheltered canyons. then went
up a gentle slope or Climbed a lofty height, until
they were far above the level of the plain upon
a mountain plateau. From this they began to
go downward. pursuing a narrow and danger-
ous pass, until the sound of running water ap‘
prised them of the fact that they were ap-
proaching some stream. Directly after their

I can’t stand it so

i
i

But, knowing that the others would make ,,

 

r
’3.
i
i
y.
!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rocky Ben’s Band.

 

 

feet pressed soft green grass, and the guide,
with a. sigh of relief began to pull off his sad-
die.

“Strip your hosees, boys, and turn ’em out to
grass. Here we stop, and thar ain’t a safer
place in the Rockies.”

They stripped 06, the blankets and laid down
to rest, and, certam that they were safe, slept
until morning. When daylight came. they
found themselves in a valley containing perhaps
five acres of bottom-land, through which flowed
a clear, bright stream, another tributary of the
great river they had left. Around them rose
the eternal mountains, spire on spire, as they
had been built up by the hand of that wonder-
worker, Nature. Pete Burns was the first on
his feet, and producing from his pouch a hook
and line, he sought bait in the rich soil beside
the stream, and began to fish from ashelving
bank, where the water was nearly twenty feet
deep. Before the rest of the party were awake
he had laid out upon the ground a dozen beauti-
ful trout, which would have made an Eastern
fisherman frantic with joy. Not one of the lot
weighed less than a pound, and there was one
“ king" fish which would have turned the scale
at five! As he pulled out the last fish he was
joined by Grandison. .

“ What glorious sport you are havmg, Pete.
Confound you, man, why didn’t you call me!”

“I didn’t think you would keer about it,
boss,” replied Pete. “ Aiu’t they beauties,
though? I reckon nobody ain’t goin’ to starve
in this gulch. Here, Nedd ; come and help me
clean these fellows, while at builds up a fire.
Be keerful of the smoke, Wat; don’t use wet
wood.”

In half an hour the party were discussing the
merits of the mountain—trout with keen ap
tites, and when they had “cleared the table”
by the summary process of throwing away their
plates, which were nothing more nor less than
pieces of bark, they were ready for business.

“ What’s the next thing, boss?” demanded

Pete.

“You told me something about a beautiful
waterfall somewhere in the mountains,” said
Ethelbert. “ I would like to see that and make
a sketch.”

“You won’t give up that durued pencil pic-
tures, will you?”

“ Not if I can help it.”

“ But Rocky Ben may light on us.”

“ I don’t fear him in the least," replied the
artist. “ He shall not drive me back from the
work I have undertaken."

“ Ye’r’ a. man arter my own heart,” said Pete.
“ The rest of you chaps had better stay here and
keep dark, unless Featherbed wants to come.”

Featherby answered by a baleful glare as he
turned to Grandison:

“ I don’t feel very well today, Bertie. My
bones ache, and I’m sore all over, and I think
I’ll stay in camp”.

“Just as you llke,” replied Ethelbert, who
did not care to be hampered with him. “ Are
we to take our horses, Petei‘?

“ No; we go it on Shank’s bosses to-day.
Houses wouldn’t be much use whar we ar’
gwine.” ‘

, They took their arms and started up the pass

by which they had entered the valley, and after
going half a mile, struck off into one of the nu-
merous side—paths by which the canyon was in—
tersected at various points. Suddenly the guide
dropped to the earth and listened. Ethelbert
followed his example, and they could hear the
tread of horses’ hoofs coming swiftly up'the
main pass to the right, though not the one by
which they had entered the valley. Creeping
to the edge of the cliff, screened by the over-
hanging bushes, the two men looked down, and
saw a company of over fifty men, admirably
mounted, and armed to the teeth with rifles, re-
volvers, knives and hatchets, moving in single
file up the pass. Each man had a black visor
covering his face to the mouth, and all were
black belts, upon which was worked the sign of
the King of the Mountains, Rocky Ben. They
looked like a hardy race, bold and strong, and
managed their horses with consummate ease
and grace. Neither of the watchers could doubt
that they saw before them the noted robber-
band of the redouhtable Rocky Ben, the terror
of the mountains, the man of many crimes and
yet who had a reputation for chivalrous daring
and for the craft of the arch-fiend himself.

No man could say that he had ever seen the
face of the mountain chief, although many had
been robbed by him. His cunning had made it
a rule for his men to go always masked when
upon duty, and for this reason they could
mingle with the men they wished to rob, and be-
tray them to their enemy.

The two men who rode in front were power-
ful fellows, and the one on the left hand was
certainly an Indian, although he wore the mask
like the rest. They passed on, leaving the two
men gazing at the narrow opening through
which they had gone in silent wonder.

“ By gracious!” said Pete. “ It would be doin’
the world a service of we could wipe out that
devil’s band, wouldn’t it?”

“ Yes, but how is it to be done? In these
mountain passes, knowing every deflle and
forest road. they would be a match for a squad-
ron of United States dragoons.”

“You don't think I’d try to fight them devils
in the’r own mount’ins with Untited States dra-

cons do yer? Not each a fool as that I reckdui
Did you notice that strange chap on this side?
That s a red-skin, and I know him. '

“ Who is he?”

“ Red Raven, the Pawnee. I’ve seen him
many a time at the forts, and he’s a born devil
in a fight, but not a bad chap arter all when you
come to know him. He’ll steal horses—any In-
jun will—hut he’ll give a man a show for his life

Rocky Ben?"

“Probably they are ‘alliesf’ said the artist.
“Hal what is that?”

A rapid ste was heard, and as they gazed,
the singular eing they had seen upon the
mountains the day before came down the pass
at a rapid pace, following upon the trail 0f the
robber band. He flew by so qumkly that they
had barely time to .take note of his presence,
when he was gone. As before, he was armed

himself over the pass, making rapid progress.

 

Pete Burns raised his rifle, but something in the

ef he can. I wonder what he is doing with

with a heavy club, which he used in helping .

    
 

i


 

 

 

  

Rocky Ben’s Band.

 

  

zlclildd being restrained him, and he held his
an .

“I kain’t do it, Grandison. It seems like
shootin’ at a friend to pull trigger at the Wild
Man. He ain‘t done us any thing but good,
and while that lasts let him live on. Come
on and I’ll take ye what we kin see them
ag’in.” ..

Taking a short out which be well knew across
the mountains, the guide hurried away, closely
followed by his companion, whose dark eyes
began to'flash, as his companions had seen them
when in the jungles of Asia he met the royal
tiger thirsting for his blood. They Went eta
8014; of trot which took them rapidly over the

round, and soon struck the pass again. As he—

ore, they concealed themselves, and soon heard
the coming hoofs ot the horsemen. As the band
passed this time they noticed some one they had
not seen before—a half breed girl ,of rare
beauty, who had joined them in the pass.

She was riding a fiery mustang of tho fiercest
breed, and controlled him with a master hund.
Grandison felt his companion start and clutch
his arm, and so savage was the grip that it was
with difficulty that the young man shook oil’
the hold. Ethelbert saw that his eyes were
fixed upon the Indian girl in a savage way in

’ which love and doubt were strangely mingled,
and he knew that the wrong which Rocky Ben
had done the guide, was centered in this girl.

Her skin was rather dark, but her features were
faultless in their contour, and her figure grace-
ful and well-developed. Her longr hair, uncon—
fined, swept down to the saddle behind her, and
had a wave and luster in it never to be seen in
an Indian of pure blood.

They passed on, but the strange look did
not die out of the guide’s face. He raised him-
self to shake his clinched hand after the retreat-
ing band the look of fearful hate making his
face terrible.

“She lives, arter all. Rocky Ben and I live,
too, and never Will Pete Burns rest until you
ar’ under the sod! I’ll track you dOWn,
I swear by the eternal mount’ins round about.”

“ Who 3 this Indian girl, Pete?" said Grand-
iann, who was intensely interested.

“ Her name among the whites is Ida Garret-
son, and she is of the blood of the Delawarcs.
Her father was a. Missouri man that made his
home among the Injins. I loved her dearly,
and I‘d give myilife for her now. but, Rocky
Ben stole her.“

" I don’t understand you.”

“ ’Twas two year ago, and she likedme mighty
well. Ef she told the truth, she cared a deal
lor me, rough and ready hunter through I am.
The Injins went out on a great hunt and she
went with them, and while we were out, Rocky
Ben came down on a. party of our men and rob-
bed ’em.”

" Did she leave 'any message?”

“ How could she? They said the leader of
the robbers took her on the saddle in front of
him, and threatened the men with death if they
dared says word. ‘Tell‘ the Delaware chief
that I have use for this girl and he shall never
see her face again. This is from Rocky Ben.’ "

“ She did not seem
with them.”

 

to be under any restraint j

 

“ Who kin tell the reason? She’s’mong rough
men that ‘wouldn’t hesitate to kill her, and-:-
What’s that?” r

“The Wild Man again,” whispered the artist. I

“ Hal he is hiding behind the rock. What does
that mean i” r

The strange creature was crouching behind a
huge bowlder, with one knee resting on the
earth, and the huge club he carried clasped in his
hairy right hand, resting upon the ground. He
seemed to listen in an eager, excited manner,
and his movements all were like those of a hu-
man being.

“What is the critter waitin' furl” said Pete,
raising himself to look.

The guide again turned toward the Wild Man,
who still listened. Even as they gazed, Pete
heard, for down the glen, the sound of a horse’s
feet coming at full gallop, and waited. Five
minutes after a mustang appeared at the en-

trance of the canyon. bearing upon his back one

of the followers of Rocky Ben. As he came in
view the couchant figure rose and launched it-
self upon the horseman with the club raised in
air. The robber drew bridle with a cry of fear
and tried to draw a pistol; but, before he could
succeed, the blow fell, and he lay dead in the
narrow pass, while his ridcrless horse went ca—
reering up the glen in the direction pursued by
the band of Rocky Ben. The long, claw-like
hand was extended, and tore the mask from the
face of the dead man. and looked for a moment
into the still face. Then, uttering a hoarse cry,
the creature dashed down the crepe mask, and
bounded up the rocky sideof the pass with an
a iIity and speed which was wonderful."

he next moment, with a wild cry which
echoed with horrible distinctness through the
glen, he was gone. Pete drew a. long breath,
and looked steadfastly down upon the face of the
dead man, three hundred feet below.

“ Seems to me I'knowthat man, too,” he said.
“fYog hold on until I go down and make sure
0 it.

Pete went cautiously down the rugge‘l side of
the canyon, hanging by rocky oints and roots
until he reached the bottom. e bent for a mo-
ment over the dead form, and then proceeded to
search his pockets. -

“ Did you know him, Pete?” asked Grandison, I

upon the guide’s return. ,
“You bet! A bloody villain he was, too,

and he had more than one murder on his soul. I

The last time I see’d him was in Leavenworth.
He killed a harmless sort of Dutchman that
lived thar, and cut away from thar toward the
fort. I put after him with twenty men, and
we caught him at Leavenworth, and gave him
up to the United States people. What do you
think they did? Why, they jest let the infernal

skunk go on boil; or ravrher some new-tangled ,

institution they calla Habbis Korpus. I dun-
no what in Satan that means, but it cl'ared
him. We wa'n’t gwine to stand that. so we

took him ag’in,‘ and started back to the Injin

nation. When we got that he was tried, and
we agreed to hang him in the mornin’, but he

broke out that night and escaped. Sauce that

time I’ve heard of him, and never no good.”
“ What was his namel”, , -
“ Bilkey; Jim Bilkey.” ' ' V ,~ ~ '

*Ns u‘;_;--.u~qu5mxo.\

 

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long rough
her, and——

the artist.
What does

; behind 5
mg on the
sped in his
ound. He
rd manner,
so of a hu-

said Pete,

Wild Man,
azcd, Pete
f a horse’s
ted. Five
it the en-
5 back one
ie came in
unched it-
) raised in
:ry of fear
6 he could
sad in the
3 went ca-
iursued by
, claw-like
k from the
a moment
oarse cry,
mask, and
a? with an
i .‘

:ry which
rough the
ig breath,
face of the

v,” be said.
make sure

gel side of
and roots
for a mo-
)ceeded to

irandison,

was, too,
ihis soul.
venworth.
man that
word the
men, and
gave him
at do you
e infernal

it cl’ared
at, so we
the Injin
tried, and
n', but he
Sence that
good.”

1

t

k
E
e
;

 

Rocky Ben’s Band.

 

r7511}

 

“Hal It is the name of a man who, with
1 some confederates, robbed the. house of a man
1 near Kansas City, killed his Wife after subject-
, ing her to the most horrible lndignities, left
the man for dead upon the floor, and escaped.
There was something singular aboutlthe whole
transaction, for the daughter 0t this man, a
beautiful girl, as l heard, has never been heard
of since. The man’s name was Arthur Bird-
sail.”

“It mou’t be this Bilkcy; he was a dirty
scoundrel enufl‘ for anything. I’ve cleaned out
his pockets, and he had about five hundred
dollars in ’em. The way things look, now we
are goin’ to strike it rich in this kentry. That
makes thirteen hundred we’ve raised in two

5-

'S‘II don’t think we had better stay here longer,
Pete. Some one of this wild band may come
back to look for their comrade.”

“They’ll find the mark of the VViId Man on
him of they do,” said Pcic, with a laugh. “ \Vhat
d’ye think we’d lwitcr do? I‘m fur trackin’
these wild beasts down, fur I’m bound to know
of Ida stays willin’ among ’em, that‘s all. Now,
you like adventur’s, don’t ye? Then j’ine me in
this, and I’ll promise ter take the gal from these
p’izen vill’ins.”

Grandison looked at the scout, and saw that
his face was working with ill-suppressed emotion,
and he began to understand that the rough bor-
derinan had a big heart.

“There’s my hand, l’eter Burns.” he said,
striking it into the hard palm of the other. “ I’ll
stand by you, even to the end.”

“ 'I‘ha"s hearty.” said Pete.
it, ncetlzer; and now come on."

He led the way at his usual rapid pace, as be-
fore, taking a course across the mountain to again
out ofl’ the band of the infamous Rocky Beu. As
before, they were successful, and now a strange
chase began. While the wild cavalcade rode
nlnug the news, the two men clung to the 1110!le
tmu~side, following like bloodhounds on the scent.
At last they came to a place where an inaccessible
bluff barred the way and forced them to make a
circuit of a quarter of a mile, before they could
again'reach the ravine. Just before they reached
the verge they heard the voices of their enemies,
and then a heavy crash was heard. A moment
after they were looking down into the canyon,
but it was deserted. Of all the robber band, not
one was in sight, and the ravine was in full View
for over a mile, and they could not have passed

“ I won’t forgit

on.
Had the earth opened and swallowed them up?
We shall see.

 

CHAPTER V.
THE RED RAVEN.

THE tWO men stood gazing at each other in
wonder and dismay, for they could not under-
stand this strange phenomenon. Where had
the robber band gone so suddenly, leaving no
trace? They could see the pass upon the other
side, and there was no break in its rugged sur-
face to indicate a side path. Wherever they
had gone, they had vanished as completely as
if an earthquake had swallowed them, horse and
man.

“This won’t do," said Pete Burns. “ I’m go-

 

in’ down to see about this thing, I am. Ar’ you
goin’ with me or not?"

“ Lead on,” replied the artist, firmly, “ and
we will learn the meaning of this strange
affair.”

They made their Way into the canyon, hold—
ing their weapons ready. Reaching the bottom,
they found the pass beaten by_ old and new
tracks of horses, but nothing to indicate where
the horsemen had gone.

The beat of hoofs announced new-comers, and
they hastily sought hiding—places, just as two
horsemen appeared. who bore upon a horse be-
tween them the dead body of the man slain by
the “ Wild Man.” They passed at a slow trot,
and were out of sight. The next moment they
heard a harsh voice cry:

“ Who asks entrance here?”

A voice replied:

“ One who has sworn by rope, knife and bul—
let. When he is untrue, let rope, knife or bullet
do their appointed work.”

There was a jarring, grating sound, a sort of
crash, and the voice ceased. The two men lay
concealed for some time, and then the scout
crept cautiously forth. As before, the canyon
was empty, and the ragged rocks round them
mocked their useless Search.

“ Thar‘s only one way,” said Pete, “ and that
is to lay in hiding until we l‘arn the secret of
this plaice. I am going to do it.”

“ And I am with you, old boy," replied Ethel-
bert, as they again sought a hidingplace among
the rocks.

 

Neddy Forrester and the rest remained quiet-
ly in camp all that (lay, and waited for the re-
turn of their two friends. Uuiil night came on,
they thought nothing of their leader’s continued
absence, but when evening brought neither
Pete nor the artist, Neddy and Watkins began
to exchange expressive glances. Featherby, on
the contrary, who was suffering from his hard
ride of the day before, did not seem to care much
whether they returned or not.

“ l’m goiii‘ on a scout iii the morning.” an-
nounced Noddy. “ That is, ef they don’t come
back afore."

“ And I’m goin’ with you,” declared Watkins.
“ You may bet on that. ’

“ But, see heah, you chaps, what are you go-
ing to do with me?" Featherby demanded.

“ I don’t reckon to do anything with you,
Featherbed,” replied Neddy. “ Only as I’m go-
in’ on a scout, I won’t hev no such truck hangin’
on to me.”

“ What do yah mean by that, yah gweasy
huntahl Do yah mean to insult me?"

“ Dunno nothin’ ’bout that, Featherbed, but
my best friend, a man that’s stood by me
through thick and thin, a true hunter, a brave
scout, and a good fighter, ain‘t goin’ to be left in
danger because Fczitlicrbed don’t like it.”

“See heali, if you call me that name ag’in,
I’ll forget my rank and call you out.”

“ Out whar?"

“ To fight.”

“ Me fight you! Why, you insignificant hop-
o’—my-thiimb, whar would ye be of I was to hit
ye? Ef I shook my fist at you I ain’t sart’in but
you’d fall down jest with the wind 01 it."

 

 

 

 

 

Rocky Ben’s Band.

 
 

 

 

“ Don’t let us quarrel,” said Featherby, who
saw that Watkins was glowering at him angrily,
and did not expect any help from that quarter.
“ 1 don’t want you to leave me heoh all alone.”

“Why, you born idiot, nobody kin get at you
hyar."

“ I ain‘t so sure of that. Suppose a baah was
to come?" '

“ What’s a ‘ baah ’? A sheep, d’ye mean!”
said Neddy, misunderstanding him willfully.
“Ain’t no sheep hyar, ’cept it’s a bigboru.”

“I don’t mean a sheep,” replied Featherby,
indignrintly. “ I mean a bash, a book, a, gwizzly
bash.”

“ Oh, 01d Eph, you mean. VVal, of he Comes,
and you kain’t git to a. tree, I reckon you’ll git

r chewed up, sart’in sure. But, don't lot a little
thing like that trouble you. Like oz not you
won 1: see a grizzly, and of the wolves come, you
jest pick up a chunk of fire and chase ’om.”

The look of horror With which the exquisite
gazed at the trapper upon this good advxce,
would have made John Lsech’s fortune, and
Noddy broke into a roar of laughter, in which
he was joined by his companion. Though they
lau hed, they were ill at ease. and did not sleep
wol that night. As soon as the light began to
%lvmt the east, Noddy was on his feet, and woke

atkins, intending to steal away without
awakening the cockuey, but the terror of that
worthy had been too great to suffer him to
sleep much, and he was on his feet as soon
as they.

“ 1: me go with yah, Mistah Forrester, now
do. I don’t like to stay heah."

“Somebody must stay and see other the
bosses, you useless critter. Now shot up, do. I
ain’t goin’ to hev ye with me.”

f“ But”! will go, do yah heahl I’ll go in spite
0

ya .

“You will,eh? Now you git back, git ’way
back: I notice ye. You olfer to come arter me
and I’ll mash ye right in yer‘boots.”

Featherby saw t at be was destined to be left
alone, and became nearly frantic.

f‘ I’ll tell you w’at you kin do, you poor-sper-
reted critter,” said Noddy. “You wait hy'ar
one dayland one night, and of we don’t come

. back, mount shoes and put out to the fort. You
:33]: to the river, and you kaiu’t fail to reach

“ I can’t find my way out of the mountains,”
bowled Featherby. “ Oh, deah, oh, deah!
(What would my parents say if they saw me
now?”

” Likely they’d say you was a domed fool,
and they’d be mighty right. Now ain’t you 5.

Newest infant to go a-bawlin'that way, like an
overgrown baby? Git outl I kain’t b‘ar to look

, at you. Ef we don’t come back, you take Pete
Burns‘s mustang, and he’ll take ye out of the

‘ . mountains all right.”

.“ I’d rather go with yah,” snlveled the unfor-

' I . tuners adventurer.

W‘Shouldn’t wonder, but it kain’t he did.

Come on,'Wat.” ,

‘ The two men at once took a course for the
~ place to which the guide and his companion had
started the day before. Suddenly their path
‘wns impeded for an Indian in full war-dress,
with knife and hatchet in his belt, and rifle in

l,



 

../ r ‘ V

 

hand, bounded into the path before them. Each
man instinctively threw forward his rifle, but
hesitated to fire, for the echoes might bring new ‘
enemies upon them.

“ White men.” said the warrior. “I 'am the
Red Raven of the Pawnecs, a chief numb the
tribe, and I speak the words of wisdom. urn
back while there is time, for danger lies in the
path before you.” . r

“ Red Raven l” V ‘

“ You have heard me speak,” replied the war-
rior, proudl . “Is not my name known upon
the prairie?” '

They looked at him closely, for he was a man
known and feared for his prowess—a man yet
young, but with a strength of limb and com-
pact figure rarely to be seen among the Indians. ,
His face, brown, but comely, had an open, win-
ning expression. although it was known that in
battle he could be the fiercest among many
savage foes. Wherever the battle-cry of the
Pawnee was heard, Red Raven was foremost of
all. Upon his head was a sort of tiara of eagle-
pluines fastened at the brow by u fillet of soft
buckskin. He wore the buckskin le'ggins and
hunting-shirt of his tribe, and his moccasins
were gayly adorned with glittering beads.
About his waist was a belt curiously made, and
evidently the result of Indian skill, bearing the
emblems of his nation, once the leading tribe of
the West. " ~~

“Why should we go back?” said Noddy, wh
had begun to recover the customary sang raid
of the trapper. “The hills are free to a] , and
for my part. I don’t keer to turn back. We
seek”arter our friends, who were lost yester-
day.

“Seek for them no more, for you shall never
look upon their faces again. You say well they
are lost, and they are lost forever.” _

“ You don‘t mean to say that you hev killed
them?” said Noddy, his brown cheek changing a.
little. “ Ef you hev—”

“Let the White Buffalo keep his temper. It
is not best to be hot to one who would be your
friend. Those who were lost were not slain by
the hand of Red Raven, and he would have set
them free, but their enemies are many.” 

“ Whar are they l"

“ Ask no questions, for I cannot answer.’.’ ‘

“ You’ve got to,” said Noddy, “ or you don’t
get out of this alive.” . '
v “ See,” said Red Raven. “You may kill me,
for you are two, and I am alone, but the sound
of the short gun will bring upon you more ene-
miss than you think. Shoot: I am ready.” ‘

Noddy hesitated,~for he realized the truth of
the saying of the Indian. It Rocky Ben and his
infamous companions were ind-ed near them,
the discharge of a pistol would bring enemies
upon them from all sides. Yet satisfied that in. .
some way his friends were in danger.,he could
not think of allowing the Indian to escape. But
the savage was cool and self-possessed, looking, ,
with on amused smile at the troubled face 0 1 r f
theguide. '  ‘

“Tell (me where ‘my friends are,”'said the
trapperf “ that I ma git to help them." v

‘ No; I have sai you cannot know- Three
men have been slain, and their friends demo?
for the blood ottha man who has killed than;  {A

   
  
   
 
    
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
 
    
 
  
    
  
  
  
   
   
  
 
  
  
    
  
   
   
   
  
    
 
   
   
  
  
    
    

     
   
 
 

 
 

      

    

 
   



Rocky Ben's Band.

18

 

“ I know who you mean, and can give you the
name of one. His name was Sartou.”

“ You speak true. He was killed by the men
you call your friends.”

“ He was not. He was killed by the Wild
Man of the Mountains.”

“Do you speak true?”

“ Yes. All these men were killed by the

Wild Man, though I will say that Sartou only
got’what he deserved, for he joined us to betray

“ Sartou had a bad heart, and had done much
evil. I am sorry for your friends, for one of
them once saved the life of Red Raven from a
bear.” *

“ Pete Burns?”

* “ Yes. The Pawnees call him the Prairie
Traveler. But he has a good heart, and the Red
Raven is sad to know that he is in trouble.
Will you swear to me by the great Spirit to
whom even Indians how, that he had no hand
in the death of those who wore the belt of the
Eagle?"

“ Yes. They died by the hand of the critter
we call the Wild Man.”

“It is well. Go back then, White Buffalo,
and trust to the Red Raven. He will see that
no harm comes near the Prairie Traveler or the
young white man."

“ Won’t you tell me whar they be, Raven? I

can’t rest easy while I know that they ar’ in
danger, fur they’ve both bin good friends to
me.
“ Ask no more, but go as you are sent. When
the Raven speaks let the White man listen to his
voice, for his are only the words of truth, and
he loves to do right. Though terrible in battle,
he knows how to deal justly.”

Forrester still hesitated.

“Delay not," cried the Red Raven, touching
a horn which hung at his girdle, “or I sound
upon the bugle and the Brothers of the Eagle
will come down upon you likea great river, to
slay and s are not.”

“ Woul Red Raven leave a friend in danger?”
demanded Forrester.

“No, unless another friend swore to him that
they should be safe. Where will you seek for
them if you go on? They are hidden where the
foot of man never rested, except the Brothers of
the Eagle. Let Red Raven do the work for
which he is sent.”

“ I’m agreed," said Forrester, rather sullenly.
“ Let it be as you say.”

“ Stay. You have spoken of the Wild
Man not the Hills. Have you looked upon his
face?

“No; but Pete Burns and Grandison have
seen him, and they knew his voice when Sartou
was killed.”

“ Then you have not seen his face?”

u No.“

“The Wild Man of the Hills, whom the Paw—
nees call the Black Spirit. hates the Brothers of
the Eagle, and most of all, the chief of the
Eagle."

“ Rocky Ben.”

“ Hal who dares speak the name of the chiefl
Beware, for the rocks and trees have ears and
will carry your words to the chief. and he will

awake in his wrath and destroy you. Listen.”

 

Even as they stood they heard the sound of
_low music, coming up from the very earth be—
neath their feet. A weird, muffled, unearthly
sound, which rung through the air about them,
stealing on their senses like the notes of a
solemn march. Forrester was imbued with the
superstition so common among the simple men
with whom his life had been passed, and he felt
a sensation akin to fear.

“What is that?” he gasped. “Let’s leave
this hyar place, Wat; it‘s no good to be hyar as
I kin see.”

“ Farewell; and remember what I have said,”
cried the Raven.

They turned back over the road they had just
traversed, leaving the chief, with folded arms,
leaning against a rock.

CHAPTER VI.
[N THE DUNGEON.

WE left Ethclhert and the guide lying eon—
cealed beneath the clifl‘, waiting for some clew
by which they might gain the secret of the
hiding—place of the mountain) robbers. An hour
passed on, then a portion of the rocky wall be-
fore them swung outward like a door upon its
hinges, and a mounted man rode out and was
gone down the pass at a breakneck pace. He
was closely masked like the rest of the brothers
of the band of Rocky Ben, and there was noth-
ing about him to distinguish him from the rest.
Two or three persons on foot followed him out,
all closely masked, and lounged about in the
canyon in a careless manner, evidently. how-
ever, keeping guard ovor another person, who
had come out with them, a woman, covered from
head to foot With a long, thick vail.

“ Walk about as much as you like, miss,” said
one of the men. “ You said you wanted to feel
the sun."

“I am indeed tired of my dark prison,” re
plied a sweet voice. “Why, oh, Why, am I kept
here?”

“ Ask me no questions, and I‘ll tell you no
lies,” said the man. “You must not try to
make anything out of me, for it can’t he did.
No one but Rocky Ben knows why you are here,
and so what’s the use of talkin ’3" ,

“ I have done you no harm ’ replied the mys-
terious captive, in a plaintive voice, “and I am
but a weak woman, and you strong men. Let
me escape, and if it is ever in my power to re-
pay you, I will do so.”

“Bosh. We are not quite such fools as to get
in the way of Rocky Ben. You don’t know the
man or you wouldn’t ask it of me.” ‘

“ I know that he is a desperate villain, a
hardened wretch who would commit any crime
no matter how hideous.”

“I reckon that’s so,” said the man, angrily,
“if you can’t choose your words better. Let
me tell you that Captain Ben will tame your
pride before he has done with you, strong as
you think yourself.” ,

“ Nol I may die in this hideous prison from
starvation; I may kill myself to escape dis-
honor, but never willI yield to his infamous
demands. To the Winds I throw this conceal-
ment.”

She graSped the black vail with both hands
and tore it from her face, and Ethelbert With

 

 

 

i

bored by the lady, the two

 

 

14
the utmost difficulty repressed a cry of aston-
ishment at the beautiful face it revealed. It was
that of a. woman in the flush of her youth and
beauty, with a form which might have been a.
sculptor’s model of beauty. Her hair was of
that rich golden brown which seemed to have
caught the rays of the sun and entangled them
in its meshes. Her complemon was pure and
delicate, and her hands and feet were marvel-
ously small. The eyes were “ heaven’s own
azure,” but though doubtless in repose they
were tender and loving in their expression, they
now blazed with anger and strong scorn against
her captors. I

“ You’ve done it now,” cried the man, spring-
ing to his feet. “ Fool, it was for your own sake
that. Captain Ben kept your face vailed from
the eyes of the men, and I’ll not answer for

your safety if they see you.”

Ethelbert touched his companion’s arm and
looked into his eyes. Each read in those glauc-
ing orbs the same determination, to rescue this
beautiful girl or die. Grandison had passed
through the salons of the old world, thronged
with the beauties of the land, but this fair girl in
her helplessness, mode a strong appeal to his
compassion. They rose by n. simultaneous move-
ment, and the guide balanced his hatchet a mo-
ment in his right hand and sent it whizzing
through the air at the bend of the nearest of the
two men; twice it turned in its course, and
sunk deep into the forehead of the outlaw, who

'fell without a cry, while his companion stared

stupidly about him, taken completely by sur—
prise at the sudden death of his friend, when
the two men darted out at him together, with
weapons ready. Releasing his grasp on the arm
of the ii‘i,.he raised his fingers to hislips and
e’mitte a sharp, clear whistle, and drawing
his knife, stood up to the shock. He was
a. wiry, athletic fellow, and for a. moment
stood up well against them, parryiniz their
thrusts skillfully, and trying to keep them at
bay until aid could come to him, as he evidently
expected. But they saw his plan and pressed
him all the harder.

“Away with you, Pete,” cried the young
traveler. “ Take the lady with you, and escape
if you can, and leave me totake care of this
feilovv.” ‘

“ J kain’t leave you."

" I order you to go," replied Ethelbert, par—
rying a'VlClous thrust and lunging in return
With such good effect that the arm of the ruf.
flan dropped nerveless to his side.

Pete i'asped the hand of the girl, who had
remainet stupefied up to this moment, and they
started at a rapid peen along the canyon path.
closely followed by Etheibert, who had knocked
down biz/opponent with his fist. Hardly had
they gen ten feet when they heard the click
of the opening stone door, and there passed out
9. motle groupof masked men, with weapons
in their finds The man who had been knocked
down pointed‘down the glen, for he could not
speak, and the men started in pursuit. Incum-
allent men who
had rescued her. could do little except turn
upon their assailants in the narrow pass and

» I fight for their lives, telling her to continue her
»- ‘flight. But she would not leave them, and they

" Rocky Ben’s Band.

 

 

 
 

fought in vain against overwhelming masses of
their enemies. Borne down by numbers, their
weapons were torn from their hands and they
were hound hand and foot and dragged back to
the secret portal. ,

“ Here they are,” cried a terrible voice. “ And
now the shall earn the fate of meddlers with
that which does not concern them. Does any
one here know them?" "

“ I do,” said a voice, evidently disguised.

“ Who are they, then?"

“ Sartou’s party.”

“ Hai I am riled we have them in our power,
for they shal pay dearly for the death of
Sartou.’

“ Shall we blindfold them, captain?"

“Yes, although the precaution is needless, as
in any case their doom is sealed.” '

They wrapped haudkerchiefs ti§htly about I

the eyes of the two men, and then ifting them
in their arms, carried them through the dark
portal, which opened to receive them, and
closed behind withahollow sound. The cap-
tain had taken the hand of the girl for whose

snke they were in bonds, and was looking at her r

savagely.
I “ So you tried to escape, madam?” ,

“ Certainly; is there anythin so enticing in
the shelter you give me that I s ould care to re-
main with you l”

“ I will take means to provide against another‘
such attempt. Mad girl, did you see the looks
which these dark men of mine cast on your
beautiful face? You have done a. foolish, mad
thing in removing your Vail.”

They were traversing a dark path under the
earth, lit only by torches in the hands of the
masked band. A desolate, dark and slimy place,
dripping with moisture from the moss hanging
from the rocks, and a sickly steam rose on every
side. Truly. they walked in the shadow, and
the girl shuddered as she entered that dismal
place from which she had but for a moment es-
coped.

“ Hear me. Rocky Ben; I am in your power,”
she said. “‘I cannot hope to escape, nor do I,
until death claims me. But. for these brave
men, who so nobl y attempted my rescue, although
their efl’orts have failed, I feel deeply. Let them'
go free, and you have a claim upon my gratitude
——a thing: you have never had yet." '

“ Let them go free, with the secret of the re-
treat in their hands, and the blood of a comrade
not yet dried into the ground, shed by them?
You know not what you ask. Ishouid not dare,
strong as my will is among these men, to pro-
pose such a thing to them.”

“ Can nothing make you swerve?”

” Yes. one thing, and one only.”

“ And that?” . I

“ That you comply with my desires. For that
I will do anvthing, dare anything. I will swear.
upon the Bible whose faith you follow to give up
my hopes here flufl hereafter toaid you in setting
these men free. I will strive by any and every
means to ottn in this end, and onlyask this in re-
turn: the treasure of your love.” ,

“ Away! I scorn you and your words, and
will not still myself to you, although you bid
high, so high that event I am in doubt which

 

 

way to turn and what to do. ButI willnot ‘

   

    

 

 

 

Rocky Ben’s Band.

16

 

Iyield to you, and will sooner die by my own

and."

“ There are worse fates than death,” hissed the
outlaw, with his mouth close to her ear. “Shall
I tell on one of them ?”

“ retchl Dare to insult me by the thought
Which is in your base heart, and I will find a
Way to teach you that the women of my race
know how to avenge an insult."

“That pride of race will crop out at times,
’ Aline," said the other, with a bitter laugh. “ I

feel it sometimes myself, as low as I have sunk in
the esteem of the world and in my own. I have

, lost all which could make life dear, and it is
only at times when Iam alone that the iron
enters into my soul. We have said enough,
more than enough, and you had better go back
to your room and remain there entirely, for
you will not be allowed to go out again.”

They had entered a lofty cavein with a
smooth white floor, which had evidently been

‘ much used. lts walls sparkled in the light of a

roaring fire, built in a sort of natural fireplace
at one side, the smoke of which rose and disap-

. peared through the tunnelshaped roof. The

outlaws made their risoners sit upon the

v floor, and the chief led) the captive women to
, an iron studded door at one side of the room
i} which he pushed open.

’3" 1 Go in,” commanded Rocky Ben. “And

, , think that you are going into your grave if you

it do not comply with my demand."

1' f‘Intqmy grave be it, for while I have life I
; Will _reSist you,” she cried, as the door closed
I, heavlly behind her and the bolt shot into its
,place. Rocky Ben turned back to the place
-5 where the prisoners Sat upon the floor, return-
; mg the savage glances of their captors boldly.

; “Now, men,” he said, “are you satisfied

_ that you have put your heads into the jaws of

qthefllion without first asking leave to draw it

,-'ou

.’_ “We are willing to abide by our acts,”
I ireplisd Ethelbert. “Do your worst, for I defy
. fyou,

,‘ “Ha! you crow loudly, young man, but I
\ may find a way to change your voice before I
finish with you. First of all, let me ask you
,what became of Snrtou, the man who joined
1 you at Leavenworth?”

1/ “_He is dead,” replied Grandison. “We

J! Signed him with the signal—rockets lying by his
g e.
'5 “ Signal-rockets!" ‘
! “That starts you, does it? You, Who lay
‘ your infamous plots to compass the destruction
i of honest men—you, who send emissaries about
3 the country to betray travelers and hard-work-
=,, log trappers. Horse-thief and murderer! You
i have gained a fair name, have you not?"

‘ “Silence! unless you are tired of life, and
t want me to kill you," screamed Ben.
l
i

“There is little to hope for at your hands,”
\ replied the young traveler. “I am as ready to
1 tie, if my time is come, as any other man, and
f I will meet my fate calmly.”
Y' “ What sa ou boys?” said Rocky Ben, turn-
i/ 118 to his ynim.I “ These men have killed

a
i
i
l

igzgpu, Diaz, and Strong. Shall they live or
is.

‘ “ Diel" cried the fierce band, in chorus. “ Let

nothing save them.”

“ Just as you say, and since they confess
the murder of these men, nothing ought to save
them."

“ We have made no such confession,” replied
Ethelbert. “ The only man who fell by our
hands was the one who was killed in the attempt
to rescue the lady you hold prisoner.”

“ You said you buried Sartou!”

“ Yes, but he was killed by the being known
as the Wild Man of the Hills."

Ben staggered as if a pistol—ball had suddenly
pierced his bosom, and looked Wildly at the

speaker. “The Wild Mani At every step he
crosses me. Who and what is this terrible
being?”

“ I do not know. The three men you speak of.
perished by his hand.”

“ This is merely a catch to save yourself,
young man. It won’t do for the Brothers of
the Eagle. Even if it is true, you do not deny
that you killed Ranger at the entrance of the
cave.”

“Why should I! It would make no differ-
ence in my fate.”

“ You are a young man of great penetration,”
said Ben, laughing. “Knowing, as you do, the
secret of the retreat, is enough to doom you, and
you may as well say your prayers at once, for
your fate is sealed.”

“Look hyar, Rocky Ben," said Pete, speaking
for the first time. “ I reckon you and I niou’t
as well have a settlement. hai' hev you
stowed away Ida, the gal you captered on the
prairie, three years back?”

“ Have you waked up, most worthy trapper?
I am glad to hear your voice, for I feared that
some one had cut out your tongue. Who told
you that I had anything to do with the girl of
whom you speak?’

"It don’t make any difference who told me,”
replied Pete, “ but this 1 do know, of I ever get
cl’ar of this, I’ll raise yer ha’r for the deed, now
you bet.”

“ 1 don’t think you will ever ‘ git cl’ar’ long
enough to perform the operation of which you
speak so freely. You have looked your last
upon daylight. I am sorry to cut you off too,
for you would make a good addition to my band.
What say you: will you take an oath, and be-
come one of Us?”

“ No. I’ve been an honest man all my life,
and I ain’t goin’ to join with thieves even to save
my life. Ef I had my hands loose, I’d break yer
jaw for makin’ the offer.”

“Enough said: you refuse the only chance.
As for the girl, she is here, and is going to be
the wife of my lieutenant.”

“ I’d like to live long enough to kill the man
you speak of,” muttered Pete. “ Thar: I’m
done talkin’, fur it's no use.”

At this moment lights appeared at the other
end of the cave, and the half-breed girl who had
ridden with the party when they had passed u
the canyon, entered the room, holding a torch
in her hand. She was accompanied by the In-
dian chief, Red Raven, Whose glittering eyes
were fixed for a moment upon the prisoners, and
then sought the face of Rock Ben.

“Who are these?” he asks .

 

0.1;. q gave“  - ~;‘vr;~_ 

  

18

 

“Prisoners, the men who killed Ranger, and
whom we think killed Sartou, Diaz and
Strong.” .

“They do not look like bad men,” said Red
Raven, “and I know that the Big Trapper has
a good heart in his bosom."

“ Thank ye, chief,” said Pete. “ It goes to
my heart to see a man like you consorting with
blackguards like these.”

“ Peter i" cried Ida, starting forward. “ Is
this you; and have you come to save 1119?”.

She stooped and was already beginning to
loosen the bonds upon his limbs, when a man
who had been seated apart from the rest rose up
and dragged her away. .

“ What are you doing?” he said; “ this man is
doomed and nothing can save him.”

“ Release me,” said the girl, struggling fierce-
ly, “or I shall do you a mischief. You} know
me. Albert Lawson, so beware.”

“1 know that you are the devil when your
passions are roused," replied the man, gloornily,
‘and would kill me if you had a weapon in
your hand, but that makes no difference. If
you are fool enough to prefer such a man as that
to me, I will teach you something better.”

“ Don’t mind me, Ida,” said Pete Burns.
“ I’ve seen yer face, and knOW you hain’t forgot
me and that’s enough for me.”

‘ Enough of this," cried Rocky. “Into the
dungeon with them, and in the morning we shall
see.”

They were dragged to their feet and led away
to a dark cavit in the rock, closed by such a
door as that which shut in the prison of the wo-
man they had tried to rescue. The door was
locked behind them, and they were prisoners in
utter darkness.

 

CHAPTER VII.
FEATHERBY “ TREED.”

WE left the Honorable Oscar Flint Featherhy
in what he regarded as doubtful security in the
valley into which Pete Burns had led him. He
was far from satisfied with his position, but he
feared Noddy Forrester too much to attempt to
follow him. After the two guides left him, he
loaded his rifle carefully, and thrust the pistols
into his belt, together with a long bowie-knife
which he had bought in Leavenworth, and with
the use of which he was as much acquainted as
he was with Indian-fighting. He kept his rifle
constantly in his hands, and was a walking arse-
nal, but a terribly frightened one, although he
tried to convince himself that he would do fear-
ful execution upon any enemy who might
chance to appear.

_ After an hour had passed. and no enemy was
in Sight, he began to get over his fright some
what, am concluded to try his hand at trout-
fishmg. The line which Burns had used lay up-
on the bank, and baiting the hook, he threw it
into the water, and was soon struggling with an
enormous trout, who could not resist the
tempting bait. Featherhy succeeded in land-
ing him, and was baiting-his hook for another
cast when a low, grunting sound caused him to
turn, and there, to his horror and surprise, he
saw an enormous grizzly bear sitting upon his
haunches, his head turned knowing] to one
Side, regarding him with a cunn ng eye.

 

.5“

Rocky Ben’s Band.

Featherby started up, cold shivers chasing each
other down his back, and into his boots, and
looked despairingly about him for a place of
safety. Bruin was evidently in no hurry, for
he maintained his position upon his haunches,
his cunning eyes looking terror into the soul of
the unfortunate Featherby, who devoutly
wished that he had remained beneath the shel-
ter of the paternal roof which he had so fool-
ishly left. He had heard that none but a crack
shot dare trust himself to killa grizzly at the
first fire, and his hand trembled so much that
he could not have been certain in shooting at the
side of a barn at twenty paces.

“A baah l” he murmured, fearfully. “A
gwizzly baahl Oh, deah me, I’m gonel I’m
suah to be the. first one he’ll eat. I wish I was
in London; catch me hunting again, if evah I
can get out of this.”

Bruin sat looking at his victim in evident
curiosity, probably thinking him the most
ridiculous biped it had ever been his fortune to
see, Featherhy glanced over his shoulder, and
saw, just behind him, a small tree, firmly rooted
into the soil. If he could only et to that tree
he might escape, and throwing own the trout,
which up to this time he had held helplessly in
his hand, he whirled and started for the tree as
fast as he could put foot to the ground.
Ephraim at once dropped upon all-fours, and
started in pursuit, but, as he passed the trout,
it flopped violently, and drew his attention.
Ephraim was fond of fish, and it was seldom
that he could gratify his taste. He paused a
moment, and turned the trout over with his
paw, looked once more after the flying
enemy, and then, no doubt thinking 4 that
he could easily overtake him after a slight
repast, he lifted the struggling fish in his paws,
and began to devour it. That fish was Feather-
by’s salvation, for it enabled him to climb the
tree, and perch himself in an uncomfortable
position across abranch. He was unfortunate
in having left his rifle behind him. and the only
weapons he had were the pistols and knife,
weapons not likely to aid a man like him in a
struggle with a grizzly.

The situation was annoying as well as danger—
ous, As soon as the bear had finished the fish
he began to look about for the Briton, and at
last espied him upon his uneasy perch, looking
woe-begone indeed. Probablya worse—fright—
ened cocknev did not breathe upon the earth
than Oscar Flint Feutherby

“Why the dooce don’t the bloody baah go
away?” muttered Featherby.
following men out into the woods, just to he'-
able to out-talk our fellahs. Bv gwacious, this
is howid; I don’t know whatIshall do.
that baah climb, I wondah?”

Luckily for him, the grizzly bear has too un—

Can"

 

“This comes of. 3

wielrly a body to climha tree, and t e unfor- ,

tunate, perched upon the limb, was sa 9 for the
present. But the bear. after roving about the
tree for some time, standing on his hind feet and
making awkward passes at the dangling feet oi
Feathcrbv, which he could almost touch—and
tearing off the bark of the tree with his teeth to
such an extent that Feather-by almost feared i"
would lose his frail support, lay down beneat‘
the tree to wait. , -’

Ma,—

 

 

 

Rocky Ben’s Band.

Something to this effect was passing through
the brain of the cunning brute: “ I can’t get at
you where you are, and you won’t come down
now. You’ll have to come some time, and I’ll
wait for you down here.” If the brute could
have spoken, that is about what he would have
said to Feathcrby, and that individual under-
stood it quite as well as if he had spoken.

“Now ain’t this a purty fix fur me? Oh, dem-
mit, deminitl Why did Ievah come into this
forsaken country to find my sepulcher in the
jaws of a bash? It’s awful, it’s dreadful, and I
don’t know what I shall do.”

Bruin winked at him as he lay upon the earth
with his head resting upon his paws. He was
master of the situation, that was evident, and
meant to improve upon his knowledge, and
the amateur sportsman was emphatically
“ treed.”

At last, wearied almost to desperation, Fea-
thel'by drew one of his pistols and took aim
through the leaves at the head of the bear and
pulled the trigger. The bullet struck just above

' the eye, and glancing from the bone, inflicted a

severe wound, though not at all dangerous. It
was enough, however, to drive the huge beast

. nearly frantic, and he raged about the tree,

showed his white teeth, and growled in a man—
ner which struck terror to the soul of Feather-
by. Suddenly the bear seized the treein his
fore paws and shook it so violently that it was
with the utmost difficulty the s ortsman main-
tained his position upon the lim , and, claspiog
the trunk with both arms, he gave vent to wild
cries of terror which rung through the glen,
lwaking the echoes in the old mountains around
1m.

All at once there came the sharp, clear report
of arifle, and Featherhy saw the head of the
bear sink slowly to one side; his limbs relaxed
their hold, and he sunk to the earth, the clotted
blood drop ing slowly from a wound in his
head. At t 6 same moment the grasp of Feath-
erby gave way and he dropped to the earth,
fainting. Luckily for him he fell upon the body
of the bear, which broke the force of the full,
and he lay there senseless. A hasty step was
heard, and a. man came running toward him
with a rifle smoking in his grasp. evidently just
discharged. The man was about thirty years
of age, of a tall and graceful figure, With a. face
and head of marvelous beauty, if we may speak
of beauty in a man. His hair was dark, thick,
and glossy, and his skin, although rather dark.
was smooth as a woman’s. He wore his full
beard. and wasa splendid specimen of manly
perfection, or would have been perfeCt but for
[1'8 eyes, in which a latent fierceness seemed to
lipger. He looked first at the bear and satisfied
himself that he was dead, and then turned over
the senseless form of Featherhy.

“ Fainted, as I live. Now what business has
such carrion as that upon the rairie! It is a
typical face, however, but I ave seen men
with faces like that fight like devils when in ac—
tion, and scent themselves as if goin to a ball.
Bah; it is all the same. Rouse up ere; bea
man if it is in you.” .

“ (5h, I’m dead, I’m dead l" moaned Feather-
by. “ The bash, the bash!”

 

 v“ '77

“Fool! cowardl” cried the man.
will you? The ‘ baah ’ is dead.”

Featherby rose slowly, casting a dubious
glance at the huge body of his late antagonist,
and evidently afraid of him, even though dead.
The stranger looked disgusted, but said noth-
ing for some moments, while his eyes roved
quickly about the sheltered valley, taking in
the horses grazing on the plain, the marks of
feet upon the sod, and other evidences to show
that Featherby was not alone in this place.

“ Where are your friends, sir?” he said, in a
quiet tone.

“ Aw! I don’t know,” replied Featherby.

“ You don’t know? That is stran'fiel"

“But I don’t know, weally. hey left me
heah, though I didn’t want to be let alone. I
told Neddy Forrn ster that if he Went away, like
enough a baah Would come after me, and you see
the baah did comm”

“ It looks something like it,” said the other,
with alight laugh. “ Stranger things than that
happen in the mountains. MayI ask the favor of
your name?"

“ My name? I am the Honorable Oscar Flint
Featherby, of Picadilly, London, and Featherhy
Lodge, ShrOps! ire.”

“A Cockney! I knew it at a glance, for I
have studied faces too much to be deceived.
Do you know, that, like you, I have walked the
London streets and frequented the theaters, the
opera, and been in society? I could even name
a party where I have met your father; a sharp
old file be is, too.”

“ You ah right, sah. Upon my word you ah
a very knowing fellah; the governor is sharp,
too dooced sharp for me.”

“ So I should judge. You would hardly think,
to look at me in my hunter’s dress, that I have
led the ‘ Lancers’ with a countess. Yet so it
‘ 73

“ It does seem ulathe'r stwange,” said Feather—
by, glancing at his hunting-frock. “ But, oh,
demmitl I’ve seen too many of our fellahs down
on their luck to wonder at it much. But Lon-
don is the place after all; I don’t like it out
hcah.”

“ Is it possible?”

“ Yaas. It’s all fun to weed about hunting
baahs and lions, and tigabs, but when you come
to being chased by a cweacha as big as a house,
it ain’t so funny.”

“ Have you found that out, my worthy friend?
Never mind, you will have a good’ story to tell
when you go back to Shropshire—if the Indians
don’t catch you going over the plains, and per—
haps they won’t—and you Will be the wonder of
the family. By the way, 110w long has this man
you called Forrester been gone?”

“ He went early in the morning, and he took
Watkins with him and left me all alone, and now
see what has happened. You don’t think there
is another haah anywhere near. do you?”

“ I am sure I can’t say. Very likely there
is.” .‘
“Then don't you go away, Mistah— You
didn’t give me your name.” V

“ To be sure. l‘mw I come to think it over, I
did not."

Featherby waited, expecting to be enlighten-
ed. but the stranger took a bunch of cigarettes

“ Get up,

 

 

 

   
 

I don’t how mad Forrester will be.
any horse,  but one man caun’t light a

 

18 Rocky Ben’s Band. »

 

from his pocket, lighted one, and passed the
paper to Featherby.

“ You smoke, don‘t you?" he said, and Fea-
therby took one, looking hard at his deliv-
erer.

“ Perhaps you would rather not tell me your
name?” he said, at last.

“ I had much rather not,” replied the man,
coolly, lying back on the soft grass, and smok-
ing in luxurious ease. “It don’t do to be too
handy with your name on the prairie, or in the
mountains.”

“ Aw, yeas; but I gave you mine.”

, “ Then I'll give you one. Call mevMilton, and
see how that suits. I answer to it, and that
will do just as welhl suppose.”

“Oh, I don‘t care, if you will only stay

with me until Forrester comes back,‘ said
Feather-by. “ You see I never did like to be
Men’s, and I like your style, if I don’t, dem—
me.
“ Thank you for that; you are disposed to be
complimentary; but do you know that there are
a great many people who frequent these moun-
tains who do not share your opinion? It only
shows bad taste on their part, but it is a scan-
dalous fact, notwithstanding."

“ I don’t think they have very good taste.”
said Featherby. “ Anybody can see that you
are a gentleman. Now there’s Bertie Grandi-
son. He’s traveled over nearly every part of
the earth where a man has put his foot, and
some places where nobody ever lived. and yet
he snubs me every chance he gets. He won’t
let me light a fish when I Want to, and do you
know that those wascally guides called me Fea-
therbed, and he only lawfed. Now I ask yah
if that is fwendly?”

“ Not at all. He certainly ought to be
ashamed of himself for snubbing an ‘ Honorable,’
and especially one from Shropshire.”

Suddenly there came a patter of hoofs, and
three men rode by at a breakneck pace, and dis-
appeared in the mountain gorge. Bo quickly
was it done that it was with difllculty Feather-
by could realize that, they had stolen all the
horses with the exception of that of Ethelbert,
which was grazing quite near the men lying on
the grass. .

“ By Jove, they are offi" cried the stranger.
“ Why don’t you chase them, or do you mean to
lose our property so tamelyl”

“ can’t do anythin with four men,” replied
Feetherby, coolly. “ on can chase them if
you like.”

“ I have no horse.”

“ Take that one; he don’t belongtome, but
you W111 bring him back?”

“Of course,” replied the stranger, who was
busy buckling the saddle—girth. “ GiVe me
gonr pistols, and I’ll get your horses back, or

19.

Featherb handed over the pistols, and the
stranger t undered down the pass at a mad
gallop, in pursuit of the horseothieves, while
Featherby kept his place quietly, smoking the
remains of the cigarette,

“'1 don’t film he‘ can catch them. and if be
They took

dozen, I think.

 

“ Hulloi” cried a hoarse voice.
thar, will on?"

Feather y started up quickly, and found him-
self confronted by two men closely masked, who
at once seized upon him.

“ Come, shell out, you,” said the first speaker.
“ Be durned quick about it, too, I ask Ye.”

In less than five minutes ever penny upon
the person of the unfortunate eatherby was
transferred to the capacious pockets of the
robber. '

“Now, I’m goin’ away,” he said, “ and I’ll
leave you the rifle. Don’t you dar’ to say a
word, or I’ll come back and swaller you alive.”

The two men darted away up the mountain,
leaving the hopeless Featherby completely
stranded, utterly a beggar. Searcer had the
rocks hid them from new when Forrester and
Watkins appeared, toiling down the mountain
slope. What would they say?

CHAPTER VIII.
IDA GARBETSON.

NIGHT or day was the some in the black dun-
geon in which Ethelbert and Pete Burns lay
confined. They could hear shouts of savage
laughtei‘ from their captors, who, grouped about
the fires, had produced a number of black
bottles whichcirculated freely.

“ Boys," said the leader, advancing, ‘ in these
ears we have been together, and on have ac-
nowledged me as your leader,

faithful or not?” ‘

“ Faithful, faithful i” cried the men. ‘

“That is well. I am glad you speak well of
me, for I covet your good opinion. When we
made our rules and subscribed to them by an
oath, did you understand that we must keep
them to the letter?”

“ Yes, es; hurrah for the captain!” cried the
wild ban , clinking their bottles together.

“One of our laws is this: if by any chance
an outsider becomes acquainted with the secret
of our retreat. he has two chances: Either to
join the band and subscribe to its laws and
penalties, or else die by such means as we me
choose. As matters look now, another year wi 1
enable us to leave this wild life and choose a life
for ourselves. Our faces are unknown. and we can
live among the very men We have robbed in
peace and quiet, if we like, or, if that does not
suit us, we shall have money enough to choose a
home where we please. But how if our secret is
discovered. and we become marked men? Dare

on risk such a thing as that, or shall our laws
be enforced '3’"

“ The lawl the law!
fand will keep it,” shouted the men, rising to their

eet.

“Bring out the prisoners,” said Rocky Ben,
“ and let them know their fate.” ‘

The two men were dragged from their prison
and brought into the full glare of the lamps.
About them clustered at least two-score of dark
masks, and weapons gleamed in the lamplight.
The captain stood almost alone in the center of
the room. , .1 ,

“ Your names, gentlemen ” he said. _ ,

“You know my name wel enuif,” said Pete,

33911 I reckon you ain't got anything to do with ‘

«Get “pr

ave I been’

We have sworn an oath,

  

 

       
 
     
          
 
       
 
      
       
     

   

 

 

Wh®V 'u

?ete,

with

 

Rocky Ben’s Band.

 

1'9

 

“My name is Ethelbert Grandison," said the
young artist.

“ Your occupation?”

“ An artist and author, traveling through the

1' mountains to collect specimens and make sketch-
es. I have reason to believe that my life is to be

‘, taken here, and I am thus full in order to exact

‘ a promise. Will you, after I am dead, send
word to my father that I am dead? You need

; not tell him how.”

1' “That shall. he attended to in good tune.
But now let me offer you the one chance you
have to save your lives. Join us, subscribe to
our rules and take our oaths, and you shall be
saved.”

“Join you in robbery and murder! Do you

‘ dare to make such a proposition as that to me?”

' “ Do you refuse? that is the question.”

“ I do, most decidedly.”

“And you, Pete Burns?”

“ 17m tied, and kain’t answer as I’d like to, but
here’s my idee. I‘ve bina free trapper this twen-
ty year, ever sence I was high enough to hold a
rifle level, and I never stole a pelt, nor killed a
white human that was honest, in my life, and I
ain’t goin’ to begin now."

” They have answered,” said Rocky Ben, stern—
v 1y. “ Return them to their prison and let them
"remain there until they are called. Set your
affairs in order, gentlemen, and if you have any
letters to write to your fricnds,1 will furnish
the material with which to do so. You will
need a torch, and that your guard will furnish
1you, and I may say that 1 am sincerely sorry
that you will not join us.”

They were led back to their dungeon, and a
torch thrust into a crevice in the wall gave
,them light. The two men sat down upon the
stone floor and silently clasped hands. Strong
men they were, and yet their situation was of
the sort to try the stoutest soul.

“Pete,” said Ethelbert, “I’m‘ afraid your
scouting and my traveling are at an end for—
ever.”

“ Seems so,” assented Pete. “ But, Lord love
you, what does it matter how aman goes un-
der? I calculate we know how to die game,
anyhow. I tell you what it is, Ethelbert, sence
I’ve seen little Ida, and know she ain't forgot
me, I sort 0’ seem stronger then I was, more
ready to die like a man, if I must. You’d feel
setter of you had some such thought in your
seart.”

“I have, Pete; I have. This beautiful girl
we tried to rescue is ever near me, and I see
her glorious face, and feel, after that, I have
not lived in vain. I would give much to have
a chance to see her, to know that she appreciates
our efl'orts, and will grieve for as, dead.”

“ Sart’in she will,” declared Big Pete prompt-

ly. “ She kain’t help it, you know. ,I wonder

now they mean to make an end of_us, whether

Fy knife cord, or bullet? Ihope it’s the last,
or I've lived where bullets fly, and I’d like to.

read with one of ’em At last.”

“Hist!” Whispered a low voice. “Take care,
ig Peter 1”

. Burns heard the voice, but he was too well

firained to suffer it to startle him. After a mo

was waving. The opening was about five feet
from the floor, and the hunter peeped into it,
and saw just opposite the beautiful face of Ida,
the half—breed girl. The two claspcd hands
through the narrow opening, and tours started
into her eyes as she felt his fervent grasp.

“ Ida, gal,” he said in a hurl ied whisper, “ I’m
glad ye come to me. I’m a rough, hard man.
The broad forest hez bin my habitation, the
prairie my home by night and day. I’ve lived
hard and worked hard, but I wouldn’t ’a’ bin
the man I am only I thought I‘d lost ye fur
good. Now I’m ready, and I kin die if need be,
bult’I shall die with your face before me, dear

a .

“Hush! you are not going to die, if I can
save you. I am in as great danger as you, and
if I cannot save you, I will at least die with you.
Men shall see that Ida, the daughter of the
Delaware, is not to be bought and sold.”

“ How did you get there?”

“Silence!” replied the girl.
coming to your door."

To his surprise, he found the opening through
which Ida had been looking closed in his face,
and he was staring at a bare, brown wall. Evi-
dently the girl had made good use of her oppor-
tunities while in this place, and technically
speaking “knew the ropes.” At this moment
the door opened, and a, man came in carrying a
small writing-desk, Which he set upon the floor
and withdrew. A moment after he came in
with a smoking supper, which he set upon the
table and again Went out Without speaking a
word. locking the door after him.

“They do not propose to starve us,” said
Ethelbert, with a. ghastly humor, which sur—
prised himself. “ Let us make the most of our
privileges.”

They were scarcely seated at the table, when
the face of Ida again appeared at the opening.
Pete sprung up and hurried to her.

“Keep quiet for an hour or two,” she said,
“ and let them think you are sleeping. At the
end of that time I will come again.”

They ate with a good appetite, for something
in the manner of the girl gave them hope of
escape. When they had finished their meal
the man came in and carried out the dishes,
leaving two more torches unlighted upon the
table.

“I reckon you will want to keep awake a
good part of the night, strangers, Seeing that
it’s probably your last night on airth, and so
I’ve brought you plenty of lights. Good-night,
boys; you won’t see any of us before morning.”

Hc went out, leaving them together.

For some time they (‘Ould hear the outlaws
carousiug in the outer cave; but, little by little,
the noise was hushed. as the men dropped off to
sleep. Soon utter silence reigned in the place
and Pete began to look for the coming of Ida.
She did not disappoint him, for the opening
again appeared in the wall, and in it the brown
but comely face of Ida.

“All is ready,” she said. “And now we
must work out a hole large enough for you to
paSs through. Do you think you can do it?”
Pete made no reply but begun to pick at the
sides of the opening through which Ida was

“ Some one is

 

43 out he saw that there was an opening in the
,‘iall in one corner, and at thisa white hand

looking. The wall appeared to be a mere shell,

 

  

20

 

and shook and crumbled under his hands. Ida
helped them from the other side, and soon a
large, irregular piece of the rock gave way, and
an opening was left large enough for them to
pass through. Prto was through the opening
in an instant, and had the half—breed girl in his
arms, kissing her lips with order.

“ I’ve passed through a dark sea, leetle hm,”
he said; “and I’ve landed on dry land at last.
I don’t keer what comes to {me now, and I’ll
hold you ag’in’ Rocky Ben or any of his murder-
ous crew.”

“There, there, Pcterl Let me go, and get to
work. There is much to do before you can es-
cape. First of all, let us fit this stone in its
place again.”

Pete and Grandison lifted the stone they had
)nlled out, and placed it in the proper position.

t flttcd to a nicety, and while Ida kept it in its

place they piled the loose rocks which lay about
in such positions that it would take consider-
able force to move it from the other side.
Then Ida picked up the stone which exactly
fitted the hole in the well through which she
had looked, fixed it in its place, and the work
was done!

She now produced a small lmnp which was
set in a crevice, turned on the light and showed
them where they were. It was a narrow
passage carved by the hand of nature in the
massive l‘nl‘kS, barely wide enough for two men
to pass abreast. As they proceeded, the passage
widened, and at length they came out into a
room nearly as large as the one in which the
outlaws were sleeping, where Ida set down the
lamp.

“Here you are safe for the present," she
said. “There is not one in all this infamous
band who is aware of the existence of this
room. I discovered it by accident myself,
and have kept the secret, hoping to make it of
use in the escape which I have lunch planning.
1 should have gone long ago, but for the sake of
one who is dear to me, and whom I will never
desert.”

“ Whom do you mean?” snid Ethelbert.

“The prisoner of Rocky Ben, who calls herself
Aline.”

“‘ Who and what is
5 0qu artist.

“I do not know To me she has been a
kind friend. and yet I feel that by birth and
education she is something far above poor Ida,
the half breed Delaware girl.”

“I must see her, must speak to her, for I can-
not consent to escape and leave her in the power
of these ruffians.”

.,“Yes, she must be saved, or it is not in my
power to go away. I have promised sacrcdly to
be true to her, and I will. You alone can help
us, and I will he the one to tell you when the
time comes. Until I call you, stay where you
are. When I can get away long enough I will
bring: you food and drink.”

“Hold on a. bit, Idn.”snid Pete. “Tell me,
do you dread any danger from that thief of the
world they call Albert Lawson? Ef ye do,I
won’t rest until he’s got his gruel.”

“ Don’t fear for me, Peter. He knows that I

she?” demanded the

am armed, and that I would kill him as I would
I’ve another friend,

asnake if he insulted me.

Rocky Ben’s Band.

 

 

too, whom he fears, and who will protect me i h,
from him.” i '

“ A friend among these black-hearted thieves,” ‘, c,
said Pete. “ Who is be?m ‘

“The Red Raven, chief of the Pawnces,”
replied Ida. “He is a. good man and brave ,
warrior, and would have nothing to do with  as

the Brothers of the Eagle but for an almost  be
insane love he bears to the chief, Rocky Ben." .‘

“ And he’s yer friend? VVal, Red Raven ain’t l i
a bad feller, and I done him a good turn onc’t, , va
and an Injiu never forgits good or evil. I reckon w,E

you’d better go, little gal, though it goes hard to
part from you so soon.” 0,

They kissed again and parted, and Ethelbert ’1]
looked after her with a. sigh. There was some- ‘
thing in the tender love of these long—separated  Cl

lovers that went to his heart. Rude and un- am
educated as the man was, and simple-hearted as , eye
was this girl, their love had the ring of the true {visi
metal, and he felt it. .150 t

“Heart of oak, she is,” said Pete, sitting upon 9" “

a. rock. “ I mou’t ’a.’ known she’d be true, the foo]
dear little gall” got

“You are fortunate in your choice, Pete, hen.
and I am not the one to envy you, and yet, jn’_
if I could be as sure of my choice as you are com

of yours, I should be the happiest man on : “
earth.” it cate

“ Hushl Is that the gal coming back?" '

They drew apart into sheltered nooks and‘ ham
waited. The patter of coming feet was heard(
far off in the dim arches of the cavern. Nearer sham
and nearer the steps came, and it seemed as f.;fur 1
though the feet of the new-comer were hare. (motl
It could not be Ida. Who was it? ,moc(

The footstep ceased, as if the persons were” “ I
listening, and then commenced again, and drew nothas
near. They held their breath in surprise, for, \v “I
even in the obscurity of the cavern, they recog- Ben.
nized the towering form of the Wild Man of right

 

the Hillel Why was he there? iwhen
jtheyr

CHAPTER IX. 2' at.”

THE EMPTY CAGE. ‘ “I

NEDDY FORRESTER and Watkins stopped in?! DOW,
dismay as they saw that the horses were gone,“ It V
and Featherhy stood like Niobe, the picture Orlany CI

woe. He was afraid of the guides, afraid that passed
the robhors would come back; and certainly “A1
the face Forrester put on as he approached western to
not at all prepossessing, and Featherby begauThey,
to retreat. liked.
“ Hyar, you p’izen coward, hold on thar,”,byar s
roared Neddy. Now, then ; what’s themWith 1‘
bosses?” aisin’
“They are gone, they are gone,” cried Feather- 1t. ‘
by. “I Couldn’t help it, you know.” “ I’ll
“ Don’t know nothing ’bout it,” replied Neddy, d I’m
still advancing. “You jest tell me to onc’t, ed m
what’s ’eome on them.” V in Indi
“They took them away,” moaned the Hon-‘ “1 r
orahle Oscar. “ They would take them, al—leathel
thoth I threatened to destroy them." e heah
“ Who ar’ they. Speak out quick unless youhet yo
want a, black pill right through yer mizzable; “Yet
karkiss.” rby. ‘
“The robbers, the robbers l” cried Featherbykhethel
dancing about in fear. “ Don’t point that wea. “ You
pen this way, pweasel I ain't afwaid of it, blf my I
it might go off, yah know.” '

  

 

 

  
   

“’Twill go off, sart’in, of "on don’t tell what’s

Imp ined instanter,” replie N eddy.

' ' “Elli tell yah, I tell yah. You see the bank

3” g , came, just as I said he would. and fwightened
;‘ me up a tree. Then I twwd to shoot him, and

l,”  killed him.” . _

V9 “ What did yer shoot him With, Fentherbed?”

th é} demanded Noddy, turning over the head‘of the

ist - ~ bear with his foot. '

’ ’6 “With a pistol.”

n’t , “Now, don’t lie to me, Featherbed, if you

915, ‘i vally yer mizzable existence. That hole never

on 'l‘Was made by anything but u rifle-ball, an’ yet a

W 1consumed idiot to try that game on me. Now,

on start fresh, and the minnit you begin to lie,

 

N

  

e’rt 

’1! know ligand down goes yer shanty. Now
ne— iiloo’k'out.” -

v' Thus encouraged, Feather'ny “ started fresh ”
11nd and told a. tolerany straight story. Neddy’s
[as eyes began to sparkle as he i'ueurioned the cool
rue gvisitor, and he listened with breathless interest

“to the story.
pon { “Thar; I guess you can set up for a born

the ‘ fool now, an’ take the prize. You’ve not alone
, qt robbed, but you’ve bin an’ furnished the
else, F fiend robber with a boss to go 011‘ on, I’m think—
yet, 'n’. 'Tennyrate, ou needn’t look fur him to
are P me”bm3k¢~: He n’t no sech fool, I reckon.”
L on ‘ 10h, he’ll come baack if the wobbers don’t
catch‘him,”snid Foatherby. “He has got my
, istols and Bei'tie’s horse, and he must come
and, neck to bring them, you know.”
and ' “Oh, you inuei’cont critter! El it wu’n’t a
arer shame to strike a fool, I’d like to give you one
d asizfar- luck. It’s shut! to make a man striko his

      
    
  
   
   

me,  mother. fit that chap comes back I’ll eat my
moccasins without any salt.” I

,1} ‘fBave—have you found anything of the
gowns?” falterod Featherby.

“Yes, I have, and they're nabbed by Rocky
en. ’Twas the’r own fault, for they’d no
{right to go prowlin' round in the mount’ins
when the know'd‘ was arter ’em. But
thugwou, ha’v‘e it, and now see what they’ve
o ,

V ,‘gI told them they had bettahstay heah, you
now," said Fentherby.

It was the bad fortune of this man to injure
nny cause by upholding it, and Forrester at once

 

 
  
   
 
   
   
  
 

It‘s ._ .

l. that passed over to the opposue side.

thinly: “And do you s’pose they was a-goin‘ ter lis-
d was

ten to sech ravin' foolishness es yours, critter?
began. he know better, and so they did ez they

v ‘ . / Now see yeree—thar's an Injin oomin’
,yar some time to-day. and don‘t you meddle
git): him: for he wouldn‘t think no more of
‘ ' ‘ iziu’ yer-hm than I would of takin’ a beaver-
other '

  
   
 

tharf’
' the

      
  

a ,r ' - '
 ", l’lltake’care not to trouble him, you know,
ready. d I’m wight sorry for'Bertie, too. e always
, (met me well. But. whatdo yah want to bwing

‘ in Indian heah for?” -

B How} “ I don’t want any back talk from ‘you,
31]),‘31‘ eatherbed. And, asfur the RedRaven, it won’t
, _ “9 healthy for you to an y anythin’ in his hearin’
ask you?” you’d be sorry fur arter.” ' ,
limble .9th ain’t goin" away, are you 3" said Feath‘

V  '“ I won’t stay heah alone any moan,
you like it or not.”
don’t say! What would you be of my
 rosa az’in' ye‘, as they are every.

   
  
  
  

     
    
 

        

'Rocky Ben’s 

 

..,l,,;é§...,.m...nwm Neon“- ,. ,, “I , ,L”. , “I-.- ...' 

3 1'"

ways likely to do, the way you go on? I‘ll go of /
I like, an" you’ll stay hyar, I reckon.”

“ No, I won't stay heah. If I must be killed,
I’ll be killed in a fight with a man, not clawed to
pieces by a bash, you know. It ain’t any use to
look mad; I've made up my mind what to do.”

“ Durn my buttons of the critter ain’t deserv-
in’ of praise fur onc’t. I like that, I do, by
gracious. You’d fight with Noddy Forrester,
the Big Buffalo of the Rockies. The rip-snortin’,
tcurin’, aggravatin’ torment; the wild halfuand-
half of the boundless rohuries, Oh, yes I"

“ I won’t stay heu ,” repeated the exquisite,
sullenly. “No, I won’t; youcan’tdrive me back
while I’ve got life.”

He was evidently desperate, or he would not
have dared to defy Neddy Forrester, the des-
perate Indian-fighter and guide. Watkins, who
had been looking on in silence, began to laugh.
“ You’ve got the critter’s dander up, Neddy, I
swear; I didn’t think you could do it, nohow,
Don’t let’s waste time on him, of thar’s ary
chainoe to git our hossos."

“ Thar ain’t the ghost of a chaince, unlest
Red Raven will help us, and the only way fur us
is to set down and wait.” '

 

Red Raven, after his meeting with the two
guides, hurried down the mountain, and gave
the usual signal at the rocky door and was ad-
mittod. He found the whole family of outlaws
in confusion, gathering with cries of surpriseand
fear about the dead form of one of their number,
who had been slain while sleeping. The marks
of iron fingers were upon his throat, which satis-
fied them that he had been strangled, and in the
dust which had collected upon the floor they
found the print of a large, naked foot. They had
seen that track before and knew it for that of
the dreaded Wild Man, their constant terror.-
They had lost men by his hand, in the and,
on the prairie, but now he had found his way to
their secret haunt. The villains stood aghast
with horror, for they shared the mysterious fear
of all ivho had heard of this dreadful being.-
There had been no pursuit, for not one man
among them dared lead in chase of the dreaded
Wild Man. » , ‘

“Ha!” said the chief. ,“ Are the Brothers of
the Eagle cowards, that they see the blood of a.
friend and do nothing to help him or avenge
him . ’ *

" What can we do, Red Raven?” re, lied one
of the men, in a sullen tone. 3, V, V ’ ' ’

“ Pursue the Wild Man, as with the wings of
the eagle. Hunt him down among the rocks and
drink his blood. ’ '

“ That’s easy said,” answered the man. “ But,
who will lead?” ‘,

“ I will; I, the Red Raven of the Pawnees! I,
the trieud of Rocky Ben, King of the Monm‘

ins." _ _ 3. v»

“We’ll follow youfi” cried the band. “You
ma depend upon us. , , a '

‘yTorches, then,” said Red Raven. “ Lot 3
great "warrior show you Which .Way to turn your
ste . x. , V

E score of torches were prepared,,aud taking ,:
one in his left hand end holdmg’ a bated hatchet _'

in the other, the search began. , _ .
They showed him the place WWI-79,3118 

 

 

 

22

 
  

 

Rocky Ben’s Band. >/ ' l I p   I 

 

man had been lying, and the huge track in the,

dust "upon the floor, and the Indian at once

started oil? at a hasty step, followed by the band.

Rocky Ben was not present, or he would not have

suffered the Indian to go faster or more forWard

than he in any desperate enterprise.

The tracks led them into paseages never be—
fore explored, by subterranean waterfalls, un—
der festoons of stalactite, hanging like drapery
from the high walls. But the trail suddenly
ceased—so suddenly that the Indian was at
gun”, and paused with a look of rage upon his

nee. r

“The Bad Spirit of the Hills is in the crea-
ture,” he said. “ Where is the trail?"

Red Raven was not the man to give up easily,
and he ran up and down the long galleries in a
vain attempt to recover the trail, while the
white men looked at, one another in silent in-
quiry. not unmixed with dread.

“ Where are your prisoners?" he said. “ Per—
hn ps they had something to do with this."

“ No—no, they are safe,” replied one of the
men.

“ Halve you seen them since the sun rose?” de-
manded the chief.

“ No; but the door is locked, and they can’t
get out.”

“ Let us return," said the Raven, briefly,
“ and then we shall see.” '

They harried back to the main cavern, and
one of the band who had the key flung open the
door of the prison and entered, followed by sev-
eral others, the Red Raven among the rest. To
their utter surprise the room was empty, al—
though to all appearance in the same situation
in which they had left it. ,

’ “ By the imps of Satan 1” roared Albert Law-

son, “ Rocky Ben will have the life of some-

body for this. Where is the key to the room
where the women stay?”

“ I don’t see how they could help these men to
escape.” ,

They were staring stupidly about, tryirg to
find some claw to this strange escape, when
Rocky Ben came upon them. His eyes were
blazing fiercely through the visor of his mask,
and his hands, white and smooth as those of a
woman, opened and shut themselves convulsive

, 1y as he came on.

“What is this I hear?" he asked, savagely.
“ Recreant to your oaths, have you sufl‘Yered
them to escape?"

“ We ain't to blame,” replied one of the men.
“The door ain’t been opened since you went
awa , and I calculate we didn’t expect them t
go is rough the solid wall.” \

“ Who was the guard?”

“ Richards, No. 3.”

“ Ah, Richards, No. 3, step forward. You
were placed here on guard last night, and or—
dered to see that no one passed out or in. Did
you do so?”

“ Yes, captain,” replied the man, slowly.

“ Are you certain that no one passed you 7”

“Captain, I am ready for the test. I never
closed my eyes through my watch. I carried in
some food to the“ prisoners, and when they had
finished, I want in and took away the dishes.
When I came out, the gentleman was writing at
the desk, and Pete was lying on the straw mut~

vi 90w... of.» 7.4 , i,-

 

tering ,to himself. After that I looked it. door, -
and took the key to the lieutenant.” 

“ Where was Ida?”  S

“ In her room; she ain’t been out tonight.” , _ fl . v

“ You tell your story well, sir. But that I have ; a
good reason to believe that you all wish for the J. )3
death of these spies, I should be inclined to be- i I
lieve they had help from the outside. Surely 2 b,
they have not been able to pass the guard at the / m
door, for they have not the word.”  I

“ I don’t think they could get out. I believe i th
they must be hidden somewhere in the cave," 9 sh
said Lawson. 5.. I 5

“ That is it. There are doubtless many’pas‘ “i do
sages of which we know nothing, and in some of i 1
these they lie concealed. Search everywhere , ha;
then, and if you cannot find them, set a guard Mun;
at all the entrances, and let them starve, as they 2‘ m
deserve to do. Hunger and thirst will drive : an.
them out at last, and they must tall into our V die,
hands.” fan

“We have searched everywhere,” said Red ' “

Raven, “ and they cannot be found. The lVild km,
Man has been here, and Shelton is dead.” any

, “Ha!” screamed Rocky Ben, Wildly. “Say 0rd
you so? How has that accursml creature entered ' I 3],,

this cave? By Heaven! he has either slain our .
prisoners or set them free. Away, Albert, and , "f

 

do as you are bid!” team
The guards were set, and the entrance to the lthey

cave was sealed against the escaped prisoners. if')!‘ ]
» ‘rli ‘h

CHAPTER X. this

A HEAVY BLOW. i home

HAVING taken this precaution, the only one he yod i;
could take under the circumstances, the cap}? , “ T
thin turned back and rapped at the door of theip')ive1
room in which his mysterious prisoner was con-; Ject i
fined. She was seated at a table reading by the; throw
light of a lamp. The room was furnished neat‘, loved
ly and almost luxuriously, and an evident desire” I cent
to make her as comfortable as possible ap cared “ Ti
in everything around. 'She rose at his en rance,then, ,
with a look of scornful impatience upon her tairble as 5.
face. prise

“ Why do you come here?" she said. “I hav about
bowed to my fate; I remain your prisoner, but fled to
will do no more.” ,v / 3 “ No

“ I would not have it so, Aline,” he said, in a; “ Wl
soft, melodious voice. “ So far from any desire “ Bee
to make your residence irksome to you, I lovey the 1
you tenderly, you know that 1 love you.” ' «won h

-“ True love never harms its object. You havlooked 3
wronged me in every way, torn me from m; “ Wu,
home, by violence, in the dead of night. tranehat ma
ported me over rivers and plains to this desolaflouhtlas
place, and now hold me against 111 will. If m , t be
father lives, my father who lov me so wel 5mm.”
how he must grieve for me." , 1“ Cons

“ You shall return to him," he cried, eagerly} him 1'
“Once my wife, I will take you wherever yound You
choose to go, and I will strive by mute observ-At the
ance, by anticipating your every wish, to teachth a k
you to love me." ’n, 1‘ h th

,“You can neVer do that,” she said. “I cari‘Hizrk
only think of you with horror, for I think ’0 am of
that midnight assault, the flames of my father’ ‘ I. sir?
dwelling, and the fierce band who surrounded You!
me. I remember that my father fell dead oiieve y4
wounded by your band, and until I know that?" -
he lives, I shall not cease to hate yew". ‘11;

   
 

    
  

  

1“ some

 

Rocky Ben’s Band.

23

 

____,___.
he door. Ben set his teeth so hard that their grating

could be di<tinctly heard. He had schooled him-

self to be calm, had determined to endeavor to
fight,” win her by kind words, but she was so haughty,
at lhaVe and looked at him with such fierce scorn, that

for the his wild temper was severely tried.

>0. to be- i, “ You do not know in what danger you are,”
I Surely ,, he cried, “ a danger beyond anything you can
n-d at the conceive. when you speak to me in that manner.

I have heard whispering among the men, since
I believe they saw your face, and they are angry that I

should claim you. Perhaps it may happen that

the cave.” . .
I shall be forced to give you up to them, and if I

[W as— do God pity you.” .
inasdmg of :‘ Listen to me, Captain Ben,” she said. in a
verywhere harsh, strained voice, which sounded strangely
b a guard unlike her preVious. mellow tone. “I am ofa
ve as they men to whom humor 18 more than a mere name,
will drive an If you drive me to it, I can find a way_to
.11 into our die, and I Will do it sooner than permit any in-

fainous designs to triumph. ”

n said Red “ I do not seek to drive you to this, as you

The Wild know, andI would be the first to shoot down
adj) any man who dared insult you, by thonght,word
My, “ Say or deed. But it will be a struggle, and perhaps
Lure entered I Shall go down in it, as I Will, sooner than give
21' slain our you X1in to them.” _ .
Amen, and , “ on have some attributes which are noble,
Captain Ben, and with other women perhaps
Ethey might be successful. Do not fear for me,
for I shall find a. means to save myself from
dishonor. Let me entreat you to think of all
this as a Wicked dream; take me back to my
hemp], andi than in other lands repent the evil

nehcl:yon ave one.

fegnltheo cap—‘ “That is, the mint where I have not the
ie door of the’power to yield. have worked with this ob—
mer was 0011;}.«28 lll Viewfor years, and now you ask me to
“ding by the throw all aSIde, and begin anew my life. .If I
wished neat. loved you less, I might listen to you, but as it is,
evident desire I cannot.” ‘
,ible appeared “There is no need of further talk between us,
I; his entrance,then. My purpose is as unchanging and immova—
upon her gamble as these great mountains under which I am

ance to the
prisoner s.

,a. prisoner. I would like to ask you one question,
ulhav about those unfortunate but gallant men who
but itried to save me—are they dead?"

, “ Not yet; but they will be soon."
U be said, in a “Why not set them free?”
mm any desire ” Because I know that you have been taken
, to Vou, I lover the face of that young artist hunter, a curse
ve YE)“; :ipon himl But, be certain of this, you have
. b You havlooked your last u n him.”
‘ mm: “What right ave you to speak to me in
of night‘tmushat manner? I never saw his face before,
.to this desolatloubtle-ss I never shall again. but I should at
'my win. If“; ast t3h: glad to thank him for his gallant at—
e amp .
Ved me so w ‘,“thnsider it dgne. nI will carry your thanks
. ,i im in away e wi not like. As for on
3 cnfl}:3§:§,lzund you shall, or break.” y ’
Lily ‘anute obserV-et “31‘: door he “met. Ida', Who 100156?! at himd
. c1, n a 'een, ques ioning g ance, an e seize
3' Wlsh’ to tea r by the arm.
h “am it I can“ Hark you, girl, what had you to do with the
e {or  think otaoe of these menl”. .
“:1 of my fatherig‘ I. sir?” she cried, in wellacted surprise.
1,» m qurroundmu You} What had you to do with it, for I
‘32:, féu dead oiigye you were interested in it, in some man—

iiutil I know th
to you.”


prisoner,

a4 . .
‘Really, captain, yon dome too much honor,"

 

 

 

 

she said. “ I would have gladly set them free if
3093219, but will you kindly explain how I could

o l .

Ida. saw that he did not know what share she
had in the escape, but merely suspected it, and
took upon herself an air of injured innocence
which was ver amusing. Ben was nonplused,
and, although e still suspected her, he had no
real ground for his doubt.

“ I warn you, my lady. Do not let me catch
you at treachery, for if I do you shall suffer.
Where were you going?"

"I wish to speak to the lady and see to her

00m.”

“ I doubt whether any good can come of your
beigg together, but go in, go in; and beware of
me
‘LYes, captain," said Ida, demurely. “ I will do
so.

“There is nothing to be made out of that
provoking little devil,” he muttered, “but I
suspect her, and she shall not go nnwatched.
We shall see."

Ida rapped at the door, and the lady, who
was permitted to have a. key, opened the door
and admitted her. '

“I am glad to see you, Ida," she said; “ we
are partners in misfortune, and should sustain
each other. Do you know anything of the
brave men who tried to set me free?"

“ Yes; be careful not to speak too loud. They
are in a place of safety, 'although they cannot
escape from the cave. I found a way to help
them out of their cell last night, and now I am
studying how to get food for them.”

“ My dearvgirl, you have lifted a load from
my mind. here are they?”

“In another section of the cave, which runs
parallel to this. I found it out by accident in
one of my rumbles under the earth, and made
use of it tosave them. But, how shall we get
them out of the cave?"

“ I don’t know, Ida. Cooped up here as lam,
I can study out no plan. They must escape.”

“ Peter sag he will not go without me, us I
mean, and r. Grandison says the same. If
they escape, so must we."

“ Do not deceive me, Ida,” cried Aline, eager-
ly. “ Is there any hope of escape?”

“ I think so. If they can get away, so can
we, if you can make an excuse to get to my
room.”

“ Yes, yes. Anything to escape from this
horrible den.” .

“ If you could pretend to be a little less hard
on the captain, perhaps he would give you
greater freedom.”

“ Oh, I could not do that." .

“Anything to escape, Miss Aline. All is fair
in love and war.”

“1 will try,” said Aline, smiling, “but I fear
that I shall be but a poor hand at such decep<
tion, for I hate this Captain Ben as I hate u.
serpent. He has wronged me in away which
merits no sympathy from {116, and I fear I can
not counterfeit regard for him.”

“No matter for that; do your best, and I
have no fear but you will succeed. At least we
can only fail. I think I had better leave you,
after I have set the room to rights, and then, as

 

 

24 V Rocky Ben’s Band.

 

soon as you can, send for Captain Ben and try
your power.’

Ida moved quickly about, set the room in
order, and, with a look of meaning in her face,
moved out of the room and closed the door.
Albert, the man who claimed her as his own,
met her outside, but she refused to speak with
him, and he fell back with a muttered oath.

“You see that, boys,” he said. “Captain
Ben has lost all povver here, beaten byasilly
girl. It is time we made a change.”

This was addressed in a low tone to several of
the men, but not so low that Ida did not hear it
or note the manner in which the men received
it, although she made no sivn to indicate that
she paid any attention; but'lier mind was busy,
nevertheless.

“Aha, Monsieur Albert!” she thought. “ So
you are studying treachery, are you? Patience,
and see if some good does not come out of this.”

She entered her room and closed the door,
looking it carefully. From a rude cupboard in
one corner, she took out a platter containing a.
large piece of cold roast venison, and from an-
other compnrtment a bottle containing wine.
Acalico screen was stretched in front of her
bed, and taking these articles, she disappeared
behind it, and remained there. This strange
proceeding required explanation ('ortuinly, for
she did not reappear, until halann-hour had
passed; then she emerged from behind the cur-
tain, carrying the empty platter. If she had
devoured the meat herself. she was possessed of
gastronomic powers beyond any thing yet heard
of, but it was gone, and she knew where.

She sat down panting slightly, but with a
merrylook upon her face, listening intently.
There came a soft rap at the door, and she
opened it to admit Aline, and locked it behind
her, and they sat down on the bed, side by side,
and blood hands girl~fashion.

“ ell?” said Aline, in a questioning tone.

“ I have seen them,” replied Ida.

“ Are they in good spirits?”

“As good as-could be expected.
act to—night.” ,

“ I am eager to go. What would Rocky Ben
do, if he found us out? I fear to think of it.
Do you know what he intends to do to—day?”

“ The scouts report a large armed body of
mountain-men encamped on the prairie, about
four, miles to the south. He will send Albert to
find out what they aim at, and goes himself
upon another expedition. I am going now to
meet the Red Raven, for I hope to have his aid
in escaping.”

“The Red Raven! You forget that he has
51311 :Imost idolatrous affection for Rocky

en. .

“ No doubt you are right. He does love Rocky
Ben, and wil fight for him to the death, but
he will aid me all the same if he can do it with—
out betraying himself to Rocky Ben. In the
mean time, perhaps you had better go back to
your room and wait until after supper and then
come to me.”

They left the room together, but parted at
the door, and Ida. approached Red Raven, who
was seated upon a rock nite alone, mending
the handle of his hatchet. is fine face lighted
up at her approach, and he saluted her with a

We must

 

courtly grace which would have done credit to
one of the knights of old.

“The Flower of the Delawares is welcome,”
he said. “If there is anything Red Raven can
do for her, let her speak; his ears are open.”

“ I pine for the hills and streams where the
Delawares dwell,” she said. “ I am sick of this
dark place and would return to my people.” I

“The heart of the Red Raven has been sad
sometimes when he has beheld the grief of the
Delaware maiden,” replied the chief. “ But he‘
is a friend of Rocky Ben, and loves him be-
cause his arm is strong, and his heart brave.

How can I be a traitor to him, and take away

the prize he has won?”

“ Rocky Ben does not care for me," she
replied. “ He brought me here that I might be
the servant of his prisoner and do her bidding.
She is very beautiful, and I love her and woulc
save her if I could.”

“It is true,” replied Red Raven, “and th
leaves of the Lily wither in her dark prison
Red Raven would do much to set her free, bul
how can he be a traitor to Rocky Ben?"

“ I only ask that the chief shall close his eye:
and not watch wkat is done to—night.”

A look of meaning came into the eyes of thl
chief.

“ [t is well," he said. “The Red Raven i',
very blind. Listen; where are the prisoners 0]
Captain Ben? Have they sunk into the earth.
You know where they are hidden?”

‘G Yes.”

“‘And will you tell me?” ‘

“If you wish to know. But, is it not betb
that you should not?” she replie . "

“Ida has the head of a wise man. It is m
good that I should know, and I will say no more
but if, when I come back from the scout, I d(
not find you here. the heart of Red Raven wil
be sad to lose you, but he will be glad that ye
have gone back to the homes of your people." .

He turned to his work, and his hand did no
tremble as he labored, nor his eye grow moist
Although he was so calm outwardly, there we
a tempest raging within, for the proud chie
loved Ida devotedly, and would have periled hi
life to save hers.

Ida knew that Red Raven loved her, and sht
had enough Indian blood in her veins not 13!
look upon his love as an insult, and to feel f0,
him in his sorrow, and admire the fortitudt
with which he kept it a secret. He still sat or
the rock, workin at his weapon, and covert];
watching Ida. as s 6 passed on, until he saw he
meet Albert Lawson. .

“Look you, my girl,” said the outlaw.
am going out upon duty now and I can’t atteu
to the work I had in view. Rut, let me tell on
that”when I return there must be an end 0 all
this.

“ Move out of my way,” replied Ida. “ I do
not wish to talk with you.”

“ Do you dare speak to me in that manner?’
he hissed. “ I’ll make you repent it before
three days have passed over your head. You
can find plenty of time to speak with yonder
greasy savage, but you have none to speak with
a gentleman.”

She attempted to pass him, but he ut out
his arm and seized her roughly—so roug 1y, in<

u

 

 

l he-

ave. '
way

she

ling.
oulé

th
lson.
bul
eye:
th.
in i’.

'8 Di
.rth.

iti‘:

IOI'C’

 

deed, as to draw from her a cry of pain.
Scarcer had he done so when there came the
rush of a heavy body, a sounding blow, and
something dropped upon tho stone floor of tho
3a'vern quite heavily. Vthn he recovered suf—
ié‘iently to understand, Master Albert realized
hat he was lying upon his back, With a bloody
mate, and over him stood the tall form of Red
taven, shaking his gleaming hatchet before his
. ryes.

 

CHAPTER XI.
“SEIZE THEM!”
'MEANTIME Rocky Ben had left the cave, in
pmpany with the g eater portion of the band,
though the men did not accompany him out
:1 the passas. Near the place where the young
ati<t had found the body of the first man slain
tho \Vild Man, they halted, and Albert strip
fly] oil? his mask and stood before them, a dark-

‘owed, heavily-bearded man with a sinister

e and sensual lips, He did not remain with

! party, but throwing oil" everything which

did imply a connection with the Brothers of

73 Eagle, he rode away at a brisk pace down

a prairie. and was soon lost to their view.

is captain remained for a few moments in
‘, (yse conversation with his sncond lieutenant,
» id then the band dismounted in thodrbouchure

the canyon, which, at this poinl‘, was iilty

Vsixty feet wide, and fastened their liol‘svs by

ions of theirinriats, while the int-n loungcd

h'riut in groups, and chatted with one another,
,yo'mgh they kept their weapons near them.
 .> hours passed away, and suddenly they

ll'd coming boots, and up dashed Albert, his
‘ -rse in a foam.

,‘ All right, captain,“ he said. “They area

,l‘ty of seven who have been to a cache they

file last winter, and are bringing in peltrics.

will be a good haul.”

‘Monntl” cried the leader, turning to the
4,11. The outlaws were instantly in the saddle.
; Jan in; close up; trot!" and they were off
lath a precision and training which did credit
3 the military skill of Captain Ben. Away
4‘3y went across the broad plain at a rapid

)t, and after a ride of half an hour they came
it ross the last roll of the prairie and entered a
‘1 't of peninsula formed by a bend in the river,
,t,d found the party of whom they were in

lirch-a band of free trappcrs, who had been
Linking too freely to keep l—Cood watch. Up

"By sprung, rifles in hand, at the sight of that

., omened company with their somber masks,

J 1 “1, before they had time to use a weapon, Cup—
.‘,1..n Ben raised his hand and shouted:

it] “Down with your arms! Dare to lift a hand
; m1 your lives shall pay the forfeit of your fool—
‘- thness.”

They hesitated and were lost, for the torrent

A gonrcd in upon them and horn them down he-
, ‘pre it. In ten minutes the fruits of a toil—
_)me winter’s work, in storm and snow, were
“urn away from them, and they were left with
lly their weapons and their lives.

“Go out again next winter, boys, and work

(

“.13” Captain Ben,” said the loader, joeringly.

'You have done well this time. Where is

.‘  .thltnngn
' " g~.‘.”Ht3l‘e, captain,” said one of the mom.
5 ’ 

i

 

Rocky Ben’s Band. ' 23

4—-

“You will remove your mask and ride down
to the place where these men are camped and
endeavor to find out what their object is. Hav-
ing done so, shake them off as soon as you can,
and return to us. Go."

The Brothers of the Eagle had been trained
to perfect obedience. No sooner was the coin-
ninnd spoken when Bolton tore off his mask,
and, thrusting it into his bosom, turned his
horse’s head to the east. The rest of the band

'kept on their course up the canyon and entered

at the secret portal, which closed behind them.
The horses were stubled in a. large vaulted room
which had been fitted up for that purpose,
and the band made their way to the main cav—

ern.

“ Send Fletcher to me,” said Rocky Ben.

The person sent for came at once—a wiry,
compactly-built man, with a keen and crafty
cye, which flashed through the visor of his
mask like stars.

“ Where are they, Fletcher?”

“ They are both in Ida’s room at present,” re-
plied Fletcher. “ At least, they went there at
five o’clock, and neither of them have showed
themselves since."

“Very good. You will come with me and
see if you cannot ferret out the plans of that
sharp girl.

lien rnpped at the door of Ida’s room, but no
illlh'Ni‘l‘ was returned. Ho rattled the door, but
only the echoes answered him. The outlaw
kopt koys of all the doors, and, selecting the
right one from the bunch, be fitted it to the lock
and entered. The room was empty and he ut-
tered a wild cry of rag‘c.

“ Captain!” cried Fletcher, appalled by his
superior’s savage glance. “ As I respect my
oath I have never taken my eyes from that door
sumo your prisoner entered, and I know she has
not come out.”

“I believe you, Fletcher,” said the captain,
sternly. “ If 1 did not, I would shoot you down
in your tracks. Enough of this; there is some
othcr avenue of escape from this room, of which
we know nothing. Order in the men, and we
Will (ind it.”

The men came pouring in at the command,
and the small room was crowded with masked
fucés. “Take hold here and move this bed,"
cried Captain Ben, tearing down the curtain.
“ Doubtless it conceals the mode of escape.”

Four men lifted tbolight bed aside and showed
the rugged wall of the cavern.

“Bring a bar here,” said Ben, with his eye
upon the wall. “ I begin to suspect some-
thing.”

A bar of iron was passed over to him, and.
clearing a space for work, he struck it against
the stone. It gave back a hollow sound, but
stood firm.

“ There is a passage behind this Well,” he said.
“and these girls have found it. That infernal
half—breed has done this.”

Ho struck again and again upon the wall, until
the bar touched a spot which trembled under the
blow, He struck again; 21 loose stone fell out,
and the men set to work with their bare hands,
picking out the stones, until a passage was clear-
ed, showing an Open space beyond.

“ I thought so,” said Ben. “That cunning

 

 

26

girl has deceived us all, Albert, and when we
find her, I will suffer no man to stand between
you and her.” _

“ Not even Red Raven?” demanded the lien—
tenant, eagerly. “Say that, and I am with
you heart and soul."

“ Not even Red Raven. What right has he to
interfere in my plans? Go to my room Fletch-
er, and bring my lantern. the one With the
slide. We must explore this place.”

The lantern was soon brought, lighted, and
turnng on a dim light, Captain Ben led the
way, closely followed bya dozen of the more
resolute men of the party. They found in the
dust of centuries the tracks of small feet, and
knew that the girls had preceded them some
time before. But how far had they gone, and
was there another outlet to the cave? The
track grew plainer as they proceeded in utter
silence, until they saw, far off, the light of a
torch shining through the gloom.

“Dense the glim, captain,” whispered Albert
“and let us steal upon them unawares. There
they are, curse them.”

“Yes, and those rascally prisoners of ours
with them. They will soon be in our power,
and then they are—”

He left the sentence unfinished, but there was
a meaning in his tone which was fearful. They
crept on over the scattered rocks, feeling their
way toward their victims with great caution,
eager as bloodhounds with the quarry in sight.

 

It was indeed the two girls and the men Ida
had rescued, waiting a favorable opportunity
for escape. They had explored the passages for
some distance, but they seemed interminable,
and they were seated upon the rocks, conversing
eagerly as to the chances of escape.

“ Now see hyer," said Pete, “ That strange
critter we call the Wild Man gotin somewhar,
and whar he got in, we kin git out. _My idea is,
to hunt for his sign, and then foller it, no_ mat-
tar whar it leads us, and in my opinion it will
take us cl’ar out of this.”

“ Your plan is a good one, Pete " said Ethel-
bert, “and will succeed if any plan will. For
myself I do not care, but these ladies are in our
charge and we must save them.”

“ Seize theml” cried the voice of Rocky Ben.
“Take those men alive it you can, dead if you
must. Down with them I"

They were again in the power of their mortal
enemy.

 

CHAPTER XII.
AT THE DEATH POOL.

THE two men fought desperately, but having
no weapons, they were overpowered after two
or three of their assailants had fallen under their
heavy blows. Ida faced Albert with a drawn
dagger and wounded him twice although not
severely, before she Was disarmed and held cap—
tive in his fierce clasp.

“ Coward, lost to shame and manhood, nnhand
mel Do you see this, Captain Ben? Do you
suffer your men to insult a woman by holding
her with their felon hands?"

f‘ You have brought it on yourself, my lady,”
said the captain. “ I told you to beware of me
if I caught you tripping, and I have promised

/'

Rocky Ben’s Band.

 

  

my lieutenant not to interfere between him and
you.

“ Beware of the Red Raven l H: is your friend
now, but he will be your enemy if you dare to in-
sult me.”

“ Red Raven dare not interfere between me
and my prisoners.” ,

“ Be quiet, you eat,” hissed Albert, “ or I shall
tie your hands. ”

“ Better give it up. Ida,”said Pete sadly. “ It’s
my luck, I s’pose, and I can’t fight ag’in’ it. But
ef that black devil hez got the heart of a man in
his b0som he‘ll fight it out with me, no matter
with what Weapons, here and now."

“ Thank you, Pete. I should be a fool to fight
you, when have the game in my own hands.”

“ Then ye ar’ What the gal called ye a coward,
and no mountaindnan. Say what ye Will, it’s a
dog’s death you’ll meet at last. You orter to be
kicked to death by a bufl'ler-calf. I did think
you” chaps hed seine little pluck, but I give it
u

“ Here, Captain Ben," shrieked Albert. “Give
me this man, to kill as I like. I demand it as a.
rivht.”

‘ No; I have other plans for him,” said Ben.
“ If his tongue wags too much, out it out; but he
must wait my time to die.”

“ Mustl That is a hard word to use to amoun—
tain-mun,” said Pete. “ You low—lived skunks,
a man kin only die onc’t, and I’ll die with my
teeth set, see of 1 don’t. Enufl‘.‘ said; take us
whar you like.”

Rocky Ben had not suffered another man to
touch his captive, and stood, during this dia-
logue, with her hand tightly clasped in his, look-
ing at her even while he spoke to the others.
Now, drooping like a. flower cut down, she would
have fallen to the earth, but the captain passed
his arm about her, and held her up.

“ Back to the cavern home,” he said. “ Death
of my life, men, don’t you see she is fainting?”

They hurried back, the captain carrying the
insensible form of Aline, Albert following, half-
leading, half—draggin Ida, who was not a dead
weight on his hands, letcher going before with
the lantern.

The prisoners were thrust into their old quar-
ters, but so heavily ironed that they could neither
move hand nor foot, and left to pass the weary
hours of the night.

“Bring water here!” cried Rocky Ben. “If
she is dead, if I have killed her, then all this tis-
sue of crime has been in vain. Curse you, why
don’t you hurry? lVater, waterl”

He sat down upon the hard stone floor and laid
the golden head in his lap, while one of the men .
brought water. with which he laved her forehead
and hands. The touch of the pure element re-
vived her, and she came back to consciousness
with a gasping sigh.

“ Where am I? What has happened? Ah! I
know now. Have you killed him, Captain Ben?
If you have, may your wickedness find you 0115
at last!”

“ Whom do you mean?” .

“ You know——the young artist, Grand‘S°P~"

“No, Aline; he is not dead yet, audit re—
mains with you to say whether he shall live or
die.”

“ With me?”

  

 

 

id

1d
,1.

 

Rocky Ben’s Band. 7 ‘ 2’3"

 

“Yes. If you will yield now, I promise not
only to save his life, but to set him free, together
with Pete Burns and Ida."

“ What shall I domwhat shall I do? Do not
put their destiny upon me, for it is more than I
can bear."

“ Listen, girl,” said Rocky Ben, hoarsely, lift—
ing her to her teet. “ This is the last chance I
shall give you. Embrace it while you have the

opportunity, for it will not come to you again. -

Come this way.”

He led her to the room set apart for her, and
there released her. I

“You love this man?” he said, in the same
hoarse voice ;* “ speak quickly l”

“ I have no right to love him," replied Aline,
boldly, “and yet he is aman worthy of love. He
is a here, a man of honor and a. pure heart,
a hich you cannot claim."

“ You love himl You have spoken his doom
with your own lips. If you had said you did not
care for him, I might yet have saved him; but
now—now his fate is scaled.”

“ Can you shed innocent blood? Man, of what
are you framed? This young man has never told
me that he loves rue—doubtless loves another,
and it is probable that I shall never see his face
again."

“ You may be right,” he said. “ I will see him
and hear from his own lips whether he has been
able to withstand that too lovely face. If he has
not, woe to him and to you!”

He strode out of the apartment, and the poor
girl fell face downward on the couch, strug—
gling with her heart. If her love had been a
plant of quick growth, it was not the less strong
and true. She loved Ethelbert already with all
the devotion of a passionate nature. His eyes
had told her a story which at another time it
would have been a joy to read, and she feared
that he loved her, and would not deny it to
Rocky Ben.

The captain strode quickly through the dark
passages until he entered the room of the pris-
oners. Ethelbert rose to a sitting posture, his
irons rattling as he did so, and faced the in-
truder.

“Why do you come here?” he said. “ I am
trying to make my peace with God, since I am
to die so soon.”

“I have come to ask you a single question,"
replied Rocky Ben.

“ Your question, then."

“Do you love my prisoner, the girl for whose
sake you are made captive? Pause before you
answer, for much depends upon it.” t

“ I shall not hesitate long to an3wer that ques-
tion. I am a captive for her sake and die
gladly, knowing that I perish for the most beau-
tiful woman that I ever beheld. Are you an-
swered?”

“Yes; you have sealed your death—warrant.
And, since you say it is easy to die for a worthy
object, I will tell you one thing more. She
loves you, and is in agony for your sake. Her
agony shall be greater, for she shall see your
death, and then she is mine forever. Good—
ni ht.” _

oruing came—the last morning they could
hope to see on earth and these brave men

were led forth to die. Therdark portal opened,
l

 

and the savage band rode out with their pris-
oners in the center. Aline was riding by the
side of Rocky Ben, and Ida by Albert. hey
had given over useless entreaties for the lives
of their lovers, and had nerved themselves to
witness their death. .

“ This is fearful,” whispered Aline. “ Let
me “go back. Captain Ben, I cannot see them
die.

“ Do you yield?" demanded Ben.

“ I cannot."

“ Then say no more; you shall see how I can
avenge myself."

They rode out of the pass and turned toward
the river. At this point an eddy had worn outa
deep dark pool, the bottom of which could not
be seen. The banks were screened by overhang-
ing bushes of a species of alder.

Rocky Ben dismounted, and gave a signal to
his men, and they seized and bound the prisoners
hand and foot.

“ Now," said Ben. “ Are you ready to die?”

“ Yes,” said Ethelbert, “ if you are cruel
enough to slay us. Will you let me speak a few
words to yonder lady l?”

“ I give you ten minutes. Fall back, men,
and give him room. Pete Burns, you have per-
mission to speak to Ida."

The girls touched their horses, and rode close
to the two doomed adventurers.

“ Lady,” said Ethelbert, “ I have come to the
end of the road. It has been a hard, adventur-
ous life, and I have faced dangers, but until I
saw your face I never knew what it was to love.
It might be presumption in me at any other
time to tell you this, but now, in the face of
death, 1 may say it. Iam proud to love you,
proud to die for you. If I could have lived, and
have met you in other scenes than these, I would
have done anything to win your affections
and possess your heart. Even now, it would
give me a better heart to meet death, if I knew
that on loved me.”

“ ush, hush,” she whispered, softly. “You
know that I love you.”

The face of the young artist seemed suddenly
to become glorified, and he raised his bound
hands to heaven.

‘f You have given all I dared to hope for,
Aline. In yonder land beyond the distant blue,
I shall see and claim you for my own. Will you
kiss moi—it is as though you kissed the dead.”

She bent in the saddle, and he pressed his lips
to hers fervently.

“Death and destruction I” cried the captain.
“ Se rate them, and let us end all this.”

“ cod—by, my darling,” cried Ethelbert, as
they dragged him away. “ Remember me ten-
derly, and all shall be well with us in the next
world.”

Ida was cliu 'ng to the neck of her lover, and
Albert dragge them asunder with a bitter oath.
They bound the two back to back, and fastened
a huge stone in a blanket to sink them, and Aline
understood the death they had before them.

“ No, no, no; not that death. Oh, Captain
Ben, if there is in your heart anything of the
tenderness you have claimed for .me, do not
drown them."

“Away! He shall die with your kiss warm
upon his lips and you shall know what a thing it

v

  

 

28

 

Rocky Ben’s Band.

 

 

is to insult Rocky Ben. I have chosen this
death, and they shall meet it.”

“ VVasto no time in idle prayers, Aline,” said
Ethelbert. “ We are ready.”

“ Will you not beg for your life?"

“ Not I."

“ Nor you, Pete Burns?"

” I’ve not other business, and ef a man kin
come back to haant another, I’ll haunt you. Do
your worst, I’m ready."

“ Mount,” said Rocky Ben. All the men ex-
cept four leaped into the saddle. These men
stooped, and, by a mighty ctl’ort, lifted the bound
men and hurled them into the deep pool. A
wild scream broke from the lips of the two girls
as the clustering locks and coal-black hair of the
Victims floated for a moment on the water, and
thou the dark flood closed over them.

“ It is done,” cried Rocky Ben. “ Fall in; file
right; march!” r

The horrible crime was accomplished.

CHAPTER XIII.
THE AVENHING» FATE.

ROCKY BEN glanced uneasily at the face of his
companion as he rode back. It seemed suddenl y
turned to stone. Aline made no answer to his
words.

“ \Vhy don’t you speak?” he hissed. “ Do you
think I have lost my soul for this, marl girl?
Away with indecision on my p'u‘t from this

 

hourl 'l‘o—day we break up the camp here and
seek a new home. You must go With me as my
wife.”

At this moment Red Raven joined them at a
mad gallop. His quick eye roved over the band,
and he saw that the deed had been done, and the
unhappy prisoners were no more upon earth,
whom he had followed, in the vain hope to save.

“ What news?” cried the captain.

“ Danger,” replied Red Raven. “A dark
cloud hangs over the Brothers of. the Eagle.”

“ What mean you?”

“ Look out upon the plain and you will sec.”

The captain looked and saw a large body of
men between him and the pass, coming down at
a rapid trot, riding as only mountaineers and
prairie-men can ride. He was in the toils and
must fight!

“ Brace yourselves, my men!” he shouted.
“ This is the band of trappers I told you of. It
is victory or death with us, for those men will
neither give nor ask quarter. Cut through
them and gain the cave, and there we can defy
them.”

“ What shall be done with the women?”

“ Five of you take them, and when we are in
the thick of it, make a circuit and get to the
pass. Are you ready, men? Then charge?”

The new—comers greeted them with fierce cries
and spurred their horses, eager to meet the
shock. The outlaws were not less ready, and
the two companies clashed together with savage
earnestness.

The Brothers of the Eagle were outnumbered,
two to one, and although they fought with all
the energy of despair, they dropped one luv one
under the deadly weapons of their adversaries.
Rocky Ben saw that all was lost. Looking out
upon the plain, he saw that those he had oom-
nnssxoned to take charge of Aline and Ida hml,

t1

 

 

managed to make the required circuit, and were
nearly a mile in the rear, seated upon their
horses awaiting the issue of the fight.

“ Break through, boys,” ('1'le Ben.
be done.”

They made a. last desperate rush, and succeed-
ed iu their effort, scattering their assailants
right and left, and were away over the plain,
gaining two hundred yards before the others
started in pursuit. Of all the band that went
out that morning to the murder of Grandison
and Burns, only two were on their feet, and
those were the two leaders. Red Raven, who
had taken no part in that crime, had also es-
caped. All were admirably mounted, and it was
soon evident that they were likely to escape.
But goading their horses with knife-point and
spur, their enemies kept up the pursuit. As they
come near the women, Ben made signals to the
men to hurry forward, and they obeyed, forcing
the unwilling girls along with them. They en-
tered the pass with the white men and the In-
dian thundering in the rear, distant about three
hundred yards, and the pursuers not far behind
them, when there started up in the narrowest
part or the pass. three ghastly figures, at the sight
of which the five men who guarded Ida and
Aline left their horses, and scrambled up the
rocky sides of the pass in desperate haste.

Who were they? Ethelhvrt (:‘rrundison and
Peter Burns, With the water dripping from their
hair and clothing, and the strange being known
as the Wild Man of the Hills! The place where
they stood was barely ten feet wide, and each
one held his place firmly, facing the two girls,
who urged their horses and passed them, just as
Rocky Ben and Albert made their appearance
in the pass. They saw the forms of the men they
had murdered, and knew that Peter Burns had
kept his promise to haunt them if he had the
power. A cold chill crept through the bones of
these wicked men, and, forgetting all else, they
two sought to escape by the same course taken
by the guards of Aline. But they had hesitated
too long, and half a dozen rifles cracker]. Albert
dropped dead upon the ledge which he had
reached, but Ben, clutching vainly at empty
space, rolled down to the bottom of the glen and
lay aspiug as the trappers came up.

“ ere, Aline, here.” cried the voice of Ethel-
bert Grandisou. “You are saved, and God
grant us many, many happy days.”

“ And us too, Ida,” shouted Big Pete.

In an instant ouch held the woman he loved
best in his urms,while manya rouin border-
man turned away his head to hide the suspici-
ous moisture in his eyes. Neddy Forrester came
up to shake the hand of Grandison and greet his
old friend, and Watkins came with him, and
there was a scene of mutual congratulation.
During all this time the lVild Man had made no
effort to escape, but sat in a nursing attitude up-
on a great stone, with his hands clasped upon
the great club he always carried.

“ This is a time for explanation, Ethelbert,"
said Aline, Withdrawing herself blushingly from
her lover’s arms. “There, sir, be careful what
you do. How were you saved? Who saved
' on?"

“ ’l‘his strange being,” replied the artist, point
lug to the Wild Man. “ He was concealed in

” It must

 

 

 

 

 

511.1

 

Rocky Ben’s Band. 29

 

the reeds on the river—bank, and the moment.
the band turned he plunged in and relieved us
from our dangerous predicament and led us
here, happily in time to meet you.”

“ 1 will now tell you how I came to be a pris-
oner among these men,” spoke Aline. “ Over
two years ago I lived in Kansas, with my father
and mother. My father was an Englishman,
Birdsall by name, who had brought a large for-
tune to his western home to help build up a
great State. The house was attacked at night
by ruflians, and I was carried a“ ay, as I after-
ward found, by Rocky Ben. What his motive
was in wishing to make me his wife, I do not
know, but he swore to me that I should marry
him, or never leave the mountain cave. He has
kept me a close prisoner ever since.”

The Wild Man inclined his ear and seemed to
listen.

“ And what became of your father?”

“ I have never been certain whether he died
that night or escaped.”

“ He died,” shrieked the wounded man lying
at their feet. “ I killed him—I, Ben Birdsall, Lis
nephew l”

“ It is false,” cried a. deep voice. “ You killed
him not!”

All turned in surprise, and saw that the Wild
Man was on his feet. Raising his hand to his
head he tore off the hairy covering which en-
veloped it, and revealed the face of a mun of
middle age, with a haughty eye and firm lips.
Aline gave one cry of surprise and joy, and was
enfolded in his arms.

“My darling child! At last, at last, I have
you, saved from the vile man in whose veins
flows the same blood as mine. Benjamin, the
crnnes of your ill-spentlife have found you out,
and you lie here, dying at my feet.”

“Pence,” commanded Red Raven, extending
his hand. “ Let the words of my brother be
soft to one who is dying.”

“ No soft; words for me,” replied Rocky Ben.
“ I strove for a great stake and failed. Arthur
Birdsall, your brother’s great estate waits for
you in England, and I would have married your
daughter to obtain it. But when I saw her, I
loved her, and have periled my soul for love.
Dig my grave where I lie, and if you place a.
stone above it, I curse you with my dying
breath.”

And with these bitter words upon his lips,
Rocky Ben died.

They did not wait long in the pass, but the
Whole band hurried on to the cave, which was
opened to them at the password of which the as
caper] prisoners had obtained the clew upon the
day when they were captured. The few robbers
left in the cave were. uickly overpowered and
made prisoners, and t e treasures heuped up
during years of ranine and murder were the prey
0f the victors. That night. when a fire was
lighted in the great central cave, the reunited
lovers sat and listened to the story of Mr. Bird-
sall.

“ Upon that bloody night when you were made
a prisoner and your mother fell a Victim to the
rage of; these savage men, led by Beiriamm Bird—
sall, I was left for dead, struck‘ down by his
murderous hand. I lived. and registered an oath

 

in heaven to track him down and mete out ven-

geance to him. I have traversed this region
through and through during the last,year, vainly
Seeking for some clew, and it was only six
months ago that I became certain of the identity
of Rocky Ben. You must understand that his
band sprung up on the confines of Kansas, and
that upon the body of a man killed by me in self—
defense enough was found to make me certain
that his was the band that robbed me of all I
loved. He left Kansas after this outrage, and
sought the Rocky Mountains. Here he has livml
since, proying like a vulture on his kind and
keeping my child a prisoner. 1 might have kill- ,
ed him long ago if I had been certain whether
Aline was alive or dead, but until I was certain,
I was forced to spare him. For the murder of
my dear wife I have taken signal vengeance, for
not one who wore his accursed livery have I
spared. My Wife is amply revengcd now.

“ I took upon myself the strange garb I wore,
which I made from the skin of a grizzly bear,
partly as a disguise and partly to protect myself
from the inclemency of the seasons in the moun«
thing. I have worn it until my name has become
n. terror to these evil men, and in that disguise
have I watched and waited, until I satisfied my-
self that Aline yet lived. My work is done, my
mission is accomplished. I have walked through
a deep sea of blood and trouble, but I have kept
my oath.

“ Last night I lay in wait and heard the two
leading men of this vile band tell to each other
the fate they had in store for the prisoners.
'l‘hey sat where I sit now, and I was—here.”

He rose, and detaching a loose stone from the
wall of the cavern, showed a narrow passage,
just wide enough for a. man to crawl through on
his hands and knees.

“There are many passages leading from the
main cave, so that a man may well despair who
becomes entangled in the labyrinth. To—morrow
we will explore the cave, and I will show our
friends all its secrets. Ahl who have we here?”

“ Aw, be. Jauvel Suahly this is not Mr. Bird-
sall?” said a familiar voice.

“You are a Featherby, or I am much mis—
taken.”

“ Yaastyaas,” replied the Honorable Oscar,
who had Jomed himself to the band of trappers,
kept Judiciously out of the fight, and came up
when all danger was over. “ Do ynh know that
the lawyahs looked for you all ovnh Europe and
Amewica’! Your brothah is dead and no one
can claim the estate except yourself.”

“ That explains it. This Captain Bird, or
Rocky Ben, as he was called, was the son of a.
younger brother of mine, a wild, graceless boy,
a dissolute young man and a villain at heart.
How long has the estate been begging for an
owner?”

“ Foah years,” answered Featherby.

“I left England five years ago, and no one
except my younger brother knew where I was,
He returned to England four years ago and died
there soon after, doubtless telling "0 0119 except
his son where to find me. The unfortunate man
hunted me down to kill me and obtain the es-
tate, and, to make assurance doubly sure, he
would have married Aline. The measure of his
guilt is full. May God forgive his wickedness
on earth, and take him to his rest.”

 

    

30

Rocky Ben’s Band.

 

Many things were now explained which were
mysteries before. Mr. Birdsall had shown him-
self to Watkins and Forrester in the central
valley where they were waiting for Red Raven,
and Featherby had at once taken flight. Blrd«
sall told them who he was, and where the band
of trappers were gathered, and sent them to
hasten their steps. 0n the way down they had
found the six trappers who had been robbed the
day before, who readily joined them for re—
venge, and fought bravely.

One section of the cave was a perfect store—
house of peltries, the fruit of the last year’s rob-
bery, which had never been removed. These
were divided among the trappers equitably.
Mr. Birdsall and Ethelbert readily contribut-
ing their share as a wedding present to Ida and
Big Pete Burns. Much money and bills were
also found, and were divided in the same way.
It was a profitable day’s work to the mountain—
nien. The part remained for two days in that
region, which irdsall knew so 'well, and he
shoWed them the Scenes of his many exploits,
and the cave where he had lived. Although he
was now clothed in the garments of civilimtioxi,
he retained the disguise which he had worn sc
long and packed it for transportation across the
plains, when they were ready to set out.

Red Raven had disappeared after the burial
of his friend, but when the party filed out of the
pass on their return they found him standing
on the plain awaiting them.

“White men,” he said, as the long procession
halted, “the heart of the chief is sad. Rocky
Ben, who is dead, wasa friend to Red Raven.
He struck the warriors of the white men, and he
died asa warrior should die at last. “That hand
is there among you kind enough to slay Red
Raven upon the grave of his friend?” .

“Speak to him, Ida,” murmured Big Pele.
“ I can‘t.” , . ,

“ Chief,” said Ida, advancing a little, “ there
are none so wicked here as to wile your death.
You have never struck the innocent, and have
defended the weak. You have taken no part in
these wicked spoils and have been very, very
kind to me.”

“ It is well,” responded the chief. “ The
Flower of the Delawares will go into the lodge
of Big Pete, who will be kind to her. And
sometimes, when the fires burn and the night is
dark, let her speak to her children of Red Raven,
who loved their mother so well."

Before she could speak he was in his saddle,
was away like the wind, and the main actors
of this story never saw him more.

They halted long enough at the first settlement
to see Big Pete Burns and Ida married, and then
kept on to Kansas. Here Pete was able with
the money he had gained to buy_ and stocka
large farm in the vicinity of Atkinson. ‘Wat—
kins and Forrester did the same, and the three
friends settled down to a quiet life, as compared
with the one they had before led. The parting
of Ida and Aline was a. sad one; and when it
was OVer they separated, and Mr. Bil‘dsull and
his daughter, with Ethelbert and Feather-by in
company, went to New York, and from thence
to England bv the same steamer, Where Mr.
Birdsall claimed his brother’s estate, and the

A week after there was a grand wedding, and
the two who loved each other so strangely were
united for life.

 

Years have passed, during which Kansas has
grown and prospered. Peter Burns, who had
thrived during these years, was sitting in the
evening sun before his door, with his wife beside
him and Forrester and Watkins smoking their
pipes while lying on the grass. Pete played with
his pretty boy now nearly two years old, when
a carriage drove rapidly up containing four per-
sons—a gentleman of commanding presence,
whose hair was growing gray, a. younger man
with a genial, sun-burned, handsome face, and a
beautiful woman, holding in her arms a child
about the age of the one on Pete’s knee.

Pete looked at them, rubbed his eyes, looked
again, and then gave utterance to a yell founded
upon a. Blackfoot war-whoop. '

“ Yah, hep—hi1 Look at that, Ida! It’s
Grandison and his wife, and the Wild Maul
Hurrah!”

“ Yes, Pete,” replied Grandisou, as they clasp.
ed hands. “ Here we are, all of us, come back
to Kansas to live and die."

“ You kiss him, Ida. Do it quick, darn it, dol
Hurrah! Yip—hil I could jump out of my skin,
for joy. Here’s Wot, too, and Neddy. Oh,
Lord, if poor Featherbed was only here.”

The joy of these faithful creatures was con-
tagious, and if Ethelbert had not kissed Ida upon
the spot he would have been less than human,
and he did it with all his heart. Ida released
herself blushing, and threw herself into Aline’s
arms — Aline, more beautiful in her young
motherhood, than when Ida served her so faith—
fully in the cavern under the hills. The beauti-
ful girl whom Aline so idolized bore the name of
Ida, and Peter’s boy was called Ethel bert.

“ knd you’ve come back to live in Kansas?”
said Big Pete, when they were all seated. “ By
mortal snakes, we’ll all go out to the Rockies
and visit the cave, and hunt over the old places.
But we won’t take Featherbed; whorls he?”

“ In London, where he was the rage for a long
time, and he has written a book detailing his
desperate encounters with Indians, robbers and
wild beasts. We might have exposed him, but
such notoriety is cheap, and we let it pass. Be-
sides, there is really no harm in Featherhy.”

“Do you ever think of your two years’ cap-
tivity now, Ida?” said Aline.

“ Often; we talk about it at the winter fire.”
“ It is like a fevered dream to me, and I wake
in terror at night, thinking I hear again the
stern voice of Ben Birdsall, dooming our huso
bands to death. Oh dear father, what do we
not owe to you l”

“I have forgiven Ben Birdsall,” said the old
man. “ He is in his grave. But. have you ever
heard of that noble Indian, Red Raven?”

“ He is dead? answered Ida, and in the gath-
ering twilight she told the story as she had heard
it of the noble death of the chief.

They live in Kansas yet, holding up the arms
of that strong young State, and striving tomake
her f uturo more glorious than her past. Feather—
hy is in the House of Commons, and is regarded
as a mighty hunter by his associates.

 

title deeds Were given up to him at once,

THE END.

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‘ BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY. *

th’shed Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents.

 

:1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Rom. By E L. Wheeler.
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T1,, "came on; "3"; By Edward L. \Vheeler.
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Edward L. Wheeler.
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Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. By Edwurd L. Wheeler.
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The White hark... liy CnptfiJc.“ . 0131.13?) St Georg“
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The Red' Brotherhood. By w. J. maiden}
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llurrlcune 11111. B Jose h E. Bad er
50 Single llnnd; or. A Lu. {01:21 Life. gBy‘W: J. Hamilton.
51 Patent-leather Joe. By Philip 5, Warm,
52 The Border Robin Hood. By Buffalo Bill.
53 Gold Rifle, the sharpshooter. By Edward L. Wheeler.
64 OJIdFZépKIdCablu; 0?, A Greenhorn in the Woods. By Capt.
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55 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. By 011 Counsel.
56 Mar] Tom W'eetcrn. By W. J. Hmnilton.
57 Deadwood Dick on Deck. By Edward L. Wheeler.
58 llnwkeye llurry, the Younl: Trapper. lly Oil Coomes.
59 The Boy Duelint. B ' Col. Prentiss lngrllllam.
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61 Corduroy Chm-lie, the Boy Bravo. By Edward L. Wheeler.
62 “Till Somern. the llny Detective. By Chas. Morris. .
63 S01 Ginger, the Giant Trapper. By A. W. Aiken.
64 Rolebud Rob. By Edwnrd L. Wheeler.
35 Lllzhtnin Joe. By Ca tain J. F. C. Adams.
60 Kit “are not, the \"ooi -Hnwk. By T. C. Harlmugh.
87 Rollo, the Boy hangx. By Oll Coornes.
68 Idyl. the Girl Miner; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. By Edward
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72 The Lion of the Sea. By Albert W. Aiken.
78 Photograph Phil, the Boy Sleuth; or, Rosebud Rob's Resppesr-
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74 Picayune Pete; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective. By
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75 Inland Jim; or, The Pet of the anily.
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76 “latch-Eye. the Siman. By Edward L. Wheeler.
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abwm—acmqawpww—crmwampw

 

3 tree:

By Bracsbrldge

9 The Black Munmnger. By Capt. Mnyne Reid.
0111 Frosty, the Guide. By 1‘. C. liarhaugh.

81 The Son Viper. By Ch]. Prentiss ingraham.
8% Seth June»; or. The Cllptlven m' the Frontier. By E. S. Ellis.
83 (lnnndn Chet, the Counterfeitor Miller, By E. L. Wheel...
84 The Dumb Page. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.
85 The Boy Miners. By Edward S. Ellis.
83 Jack Ilnrknway in New York. By Bracebrldge l-Ieuiyng.
81' The lluuar Onptnin. By Col. Prentiss Ingrahnm.

 

88 Deadwood Dick in Leadville. By Edward L. Wheeler.

89 Bill Blddon Trapper. By Edward S. Ellis.

90 Tippy, the '. ‘exnn. By George Gleuson.

91 Mustang Sam, the King ol‘the Plains. B .105. E. Badger, Jr.

92 The Ocean Bloodhound. By Samuel W'. l‘wlrce.

93 Phil llnrdy, the Boss Boy. By Charles Morris.

94 Deadwood Dick as Detective. By E. L. VVheeier.

95 Buck Buckrnm. By Captain J. F. 0. Adams.

96 Gilt-Edged Dick. By Edward L. Wheeler.

9‘? The Black Steed ofthe Prairies. By James L. Bowen,

98 The Sea Serpent. By Juuu Lewis.

99 Bonanza Bill, the Mun Tracker. By E. L. Wheeler.

100 Not Todd; or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive. By E. S. Ellis.

101 During Davy; the Young Bear Killer. By Harry St. George

102 The 1 ellow Chief. By Capt. Mayne. Reid.

103 Chip, the Girl S )urt. By Edward L. Wheeler.

104 The Black Sc sooner. By linger Starbuck-

105 Handsome Harry, the Bootlrlack Detective. By C.;Morri3.

106 Night-llnwk Kit. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

107 Jack [[0 *le’g Lead, By Edward L. VVileeler.

108 Rock ountnin Kit. B T. C. Harbeugh.

109 Thor runded “and. By ‘renk Duxnont.

110 The Dread Rider. By George W. Browne.

111 Ross Bob, the King of Boothlncke. By Edward L. “'heeler.

112 The Helpless llnnd. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

113 Hoar-Face Him], the Silent Hunter. By 0!] Gnomes.

114 l’iney Paul. the Mountain Boy. B '1‘. C. linrhaugh.

115 Deadwood Dick’s Double. By Edward L. Wheeler.

116 Jnhez Collin. Ski >er. By Capt. F. Whittuker.

11? Funny Frank, oipgtalnrado. By “ Buffalo Bill."

118 W111 ‘Vlldill‘e, the Thoroughbred. By Chas. Morris.

119 Blondo Bill; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base. By Edwgrd
L. Wheeler.

120 Gopher Grid, the Boy Trapper. By T. C. Harbaugh.

121 Harry Armutrong‘, the Captain of the Club. By Bruce-

. lvriilge'lleulyllm (Jack llurkewny.)

122 The Hunted Hunter. By Edward S. Ellis.

128 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent. By Edward L. Wheeler.

124 Judge Lynch. Jr. By '1‘. C. llnrlmugh.

125 The Land Pirates. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

126 iiiuc Blazes: or, The Break 0’ Day Boys of Rocky Bar. By
Frnuk Dulnnut.

127 Tony Fox, the Ferret. By Edward L. Wheeler'-

128 'Blnck Belg. Will \Vlldfire’e Racer. By Charles Blank.

129 Eagle Kit. the Boy Demon. By 011 Coonies. -

130 Gold Trigker. the Sport- 13> T. 0. Hagrbruga.

131 A Game of Gold; 0!. 0 “WOW Dick'k Bil: Strike. By
Edward L. “'heeler. ‘ I

182 Dainty Lnnue, the "my mm. ByJ. E. Bsdger, Jr.

133 “Ind—fire, the Boss ol the l'mnd. By Frank Dulnont.

134 Mike Merry. the Harbor Police Boy. By Charles Morris.

135 Deadwood Dick ofDendwooll. By E. L. Wheeler.

186 0111 1111110, the Hunter. By Cnpt. ilmnilton Holmes.

18’? Dandy Rock, the Man from Texas. B G. Waldo Brownm

188 Bob Rockett. the Boy Dodger. By 0 ms. Morris.

189 The Blan Giant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy. By Jon,
E. Badger. Jr.

140 Unptnlu Arlzonn. By Phili S. Warne.

141 New York Nell, the Boy-Gir Detective. By E.L. Wheeler.

1495 Little Tcxns, the Young Musinnger. By 011 Gnomes.

148 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. By Joe. E.
Bridger, Jr.

144 Little Grit, ihe Wild Rider. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

145 T he Tiger of’Tuon. By Gee. Waldo Browne.

146 The Cattle Kin . By Funk Durnont.

147 Noblsy Nick of evndn. By Edward L. Wheeler.

14R Thunderbolt Tom. By Harry St. George.

149 Rob Rockctt, the Bank Runner. By Charles Merrie.

150 The M341 Miner. By G. Aldo Browne.

151 The Sea Trailer. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

152 Dxindy Dnrke: or, The Tigers oingh Pine. By W. EEyeier.

158 “7111] Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. By E. L. Wheeler.

154. The Boy Trnllern. By Joe. E. Badger, Jr.

155 Gold Plume, the Boy Bandit By Col. Prentiss lngrahsm.

156 Will Wildfire in the Woodie. By C. Morris.

157 Ned Temple, the Border Boy. By '1‘. C. llarbaugh.

158 Dcndwood Dick’s Doom. By E. L. Wheeler.

159 l’ntent-Ilenthcr Joe’s Defent. By Philip. S. Vi'arng.

160 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker. By Col. 1’. Ingrahem.

161 Rob Rocket.“ the Crankemau. By Charles Mon-is.

162 Little lllll‘l‘ll'lule, the Boy Captain. liy 0|] Coomel.

163 Deadwood Dick’a Dream. By E. L. Wheeler.

164 Tornado Tom. liy T. C. Harhaugh.

165 Buffalo liill’n Bet. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

lflli Will “lildilre Win! and Logan. By Charles Mann.

16? Dandy Rock’s Pledge. By George W. Bram...

16*? Deadwood Dlok’s Win-d. By Edward L. Wheeler.

169 The’lloy Champion. By Edward Willett.

170 Bob Roekett’n Fight for Life. By Chnrles Morris.

lieudlo’fi Pocket Library is {or sale by all Newsdealeu. ti"
cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six Cunt: each.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,
93 William Street New York. ‘

 

BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY.

Published Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of five Cents.

 

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Frank Mar-tun. the Boy llw'w‘nlvs. By 011 Gimmes.
’l‘lu- Yankee Ihmgor. Br Eda

Dink Dluglo _ .L
Dandy Hnol. s. ( mm
The Aral. D: toollvr. .
\\ lll “’ildli - *‘u l’lurk. I»,
l'lle lioy Commander. l_ (
'l‘lu- Manhu- Ilunxcr. ll
Dalnly Laure: ar, The My.
’ljhu Boy Gold-Hunter.
'l he N'npogrm-o Hon.
The Dark-skinner]
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Foullwl'wclu‘lxlr H
“hon Bill, ll‘: '- rum-v.

Dalu V Lance :uul llln I’m-d. I J'm‘rlr
’l‘ ( rapped ’I‘Im-r Klug. 11y (1] Hum “MI
The Voutrllouuhl. "Merlin lwnnl L. Whrch-r.
Old Ilm'ley's Boyu. Hv )ld «II.
Slur Mmpklnu, Smut.
Dnud ' Rook’u Rlval
Illvl‘o - “arr I“

\lm‘rls. .

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By J. E. Badger:
null.

. lugralnnn.
ulgl-r, Jr

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ll; le-nwnn.

l’rm- yet-t I’otc, lln: {in}, Miner.
'l‘lw ‘cndcrl'onl. 'l‘l‘allul'. l;
The Dnme Don-olive. '

“on (In- Young (‘ale King. '
\‘ l‘ll

nigh.

\\ In "one" - ; Whitmlieh
Dnmly Darkc'u P; 1; Wm. R. hyslcr.
Tom, tllu '1‘. ml ' ‘i [:5 I‘m (‘mtmn .

smu ilm Ollu'u liny. nr ( u
The Young (Inn'lmv.
Tlu- Frontier Dot
“'hltu Lilelt' lag; .-
Kculnvk Tallmi‘u “and.

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Badger, Jr.
\l'nrnr.

le~n1>ngcr-lloy Dutm-tlv

The Hunchback ol'llw )llllOH. Hr
Lillie (-‘rlnnt nml "In liaml. lh l’ln ;
The .llmtown Spam. By Edward L. \\'|»
The I’lrate’u Pr 0. By C. l)\ ’ '
Dandy Dnvo, oi Ilulxl. RV
During Dan, the Rangvr; nr, Th
r‘umuvs.
'l‘lu- (lawlnw (lnptaln. By l‘ul. l'r-‘ntlx‘s lllcrnlmm
Bald Head ol'lrlu'. Hookkw. * ’ Sam. Hall.
The “lucr Sport. ll, l‘
Burk, the Dotoollvo. Ky Allwl \\
(‘rnvlr-Sllnt Frunk. llyl'lmrlv M m.
\Icrlv lllu ,‘IIddy. lly Cu], l’rvnl # lnulullmn.
{unclllltl lh‘u‘n lloyu My (Ill (‘mrmvmz

ll (‘ollrxul‘n “'nm )ogu. Hy ’I‘. ('. llnrlmuuh.
l‘ l'y Fergus, “N '\l- V'Hrl. lim‘ [iv G. L. Ailirn.
Dlvl“ Drew, lln' Minx-1"» .‘mn l1_\ l‘hl ml l., “'hmrlur.
Dakola Dick In Chit-nun. Hy (‘har a Mnrris.
\lcrlo, thu Ray l'x' sr r. U Cu]. l‘rm:lls~‘ Inurulnun.
'l‘lw I'rrnclu Drlw'lh 15y “ll l‘muut‘§.

kory‘s Grll. : ll

'l'ln'm~ Boy Sports
Sierra 5am, [hr-1M

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\ \lelllnln’r.
. “'ln-rlr’r.
} r , l‘n is lugrnlnnn.
Er ign (3. [um r.
“V Capt. J. ll‘. (5. Adams.
lnlt'li.
.. \Vlwelr-r.

llooliy Hover Ixil
Baldy, llur Miner (Thi ‘.
.lavl. Slulup’n (‘rulr‘m B
Nlm‘ra Snm‘u Donlblv.
Nonnhoy Nod 1M: 1i\
.\l (-rlu Honk“! Hun-M
lion'n Ill]: Room. I») (,npl ‘
Sharp Hhont Billie. By 011 (,wmrra.
Slt-rl'u Sam’fl Skull-n00. By Edward L. \«thuler.
The Douvor D01 vellvo. By ’I . llnl'hnuzll.
Dulle Jnn’~ Illlcunnn. Hy Mu] l. W. C
\‘lcrlo Monti-M Ding-ulna. Hy (‘r-l. Pram
lhlltlv’n Boy Par ‘r. By Erlnuml S Fl
Do ctlvo Kcon’x. murcnllvo. 1‘
'I‘l (Hr-l Sport. My Edward L. WI
(:lnut Gum-go’s l’nrll. By Bar m h n,
lhuwh Rob’s “'1” Ride. liy ’l. (1. llarhnugh.
VI m'lo Monte’fl I’m-(Ion. By {501. l’n'vnbiss [ngmlnnm
The Donl‘Dotm-llwo. -d \K xllmf.
Denver Doll’s DovII-o. ll 1.. Vl ll|‘|‘lxtr.
le Roy 'l'cmlvrl'onl.
“lnvk Illlld I; .
Jolly .llnl. llolr v e. V
VI t-rlc M «M (“M Lani. llr
'l' 0 Boy (‘hlcl‘ol‘llov . <L.Vralu.
Dunn-r Doll an Dole: l ‘-.\‘ V»- . V dwh-r.
thllv 1““. We, llh" ('u-lnvmhr S] . ll\' 0‘! (100mm.
sklt, lln- ( n Buy. By Edward mum.
Hindu, tlm Sport. My (‘. llurl .
“llly. [luv llny anl [5, Col. l’rvl . lngrilllvnn.
Dunn-r lloli’u Duo) or, Lige, the Idghblluuae Keeper.
My GlyphJ. 17. c. Arlnllhs.
Denver Doll’s Partner. By E. L. Wheeler.

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Bllly, lln- Dnzgnge Boy. “3' Cllm’les M'Jn’ls-
Bv Capt. (‘mnstnr
(-‘u-orgo’u lievvugu. liylhn-
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Bonn. Dy Falwanl ll :luzt.
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l-Ilmny Jim’s
Kit, Hw «.irl 4r 1\' .
The Girl Hitler; ur, Nhnhlu med
l’rmlgun. r.

hot. Dnruly’s Double. 13v (‘nL I‘. lngrahmn.
Fred. the or...“ mar. By Charles Morris. _ _
llcxulwood lllt-k Trapped. By Edward Wheeler.
’l'llc ldlot Boy A" - 1501'. By Alln-x'l \\. Alkun.
Arizona Alf, lllu )Ii llv 'l‘. (‘. llarhuugh.
(‘nloruflo Jack. the Tm llv FrmlL-rlcli llvwvv.
Doml Shot Dnnlly’l Last Deal. By ('ul. 1’. Iagmhmn.
NL-(l. the, Boy l’llot. By Jar-k Farracnf.
Ruok Hawk, I)rlrvtiva. By Edward L. Whuvler.
lhn‘lm: Sport Klt. By Edward Willem.
The H10“ mnn’n Best Curd. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.
lllll Rovl.y’n l’nrd. By llunksliianm.
mug, le llulmtnSpan By Char] Mdrris.
Nod, the l’m)‘ Ski )lwr. By Jack Farragut.
Deadwood Dlt'ldn Dlngnluv. By Edward L. “1.33191;
(‘olormlo vak, Hm Lilflsulsl. ~ .\ H. B. Staddmm
I} m, the 'I‘vudorfoot. L. St. "ruin.
Pun-oak l’etc, "he I. \Ilvlllv By Mir 1 w_ Aiken.
Joo llorcy, tln: de lawk -. x l‘rnrlgu-r, Jr.
Dwnrf Jake, the D\.l<‘l']le a.”

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\\‘ hilc \Vlng, Um Ferret (4‘!
lhnlmln, [he Tl): 'l'nnm'.
Arbour: (Hunt. George; ul‘,
(lilv lSv lglll'h‘lxlll Sum.
’11 My Doll‘s Dash. By '1‘. (I ll:lrlrllnl'
The Balloon Dotuctlvon. , .
Deadwood lllrk'n )llnulon. -
Dnnllv Duke, lln: (lowlun‘i liy Mr
llv ' ‘.
'I‘llo “on-l Boy Delm-llvo. y Khulna Morris.
Bald Ilvml‘r‘ l’ard. lh Ihwl Sam.
Dunky Dlok‘u Duo]: "1’. Th: l'mmvn‘s Trail.

ny Jn.. E.

Mn.
rd 1.. “'hevler.
$1.. len.

By Harry

(It,le Starr lhdwliw-‘s Dru-V. By E. L.

ll‘| rrl.
Knuth-r Frltr
\Y! A'l’

vak, the Roy Sport. By \lxim E. l.. FL. Vrnln.
l)1blllbl(~~l“i~tml Mat; ur. 'llw MyslitCrllil'uruin Giant. By
.1... It. hader. '
I (u' avln-nrll‘u Roy. By(‘. Dunning Clark.
2 l Glrl ('llpluiu; 0r, 'l'hl' Mull Sallnr's Lemmy. By
l‘ull‘llll.

Alli. Hy Buckskin Sam.

Rand-Agent; ur. Tue Miners ofSnssnfrnl
\h. .. 1.. \\ lln'wlor,
Ilom’HL Jan-L'fl Prologo. By P. S. \Vanw.
":iu. w r ' (l \Vfllrl.
'l'cnll. “1(- .\ ' . L. St. \Trnln.
'l'lu- \‘ll'u- b wl \ \lmrls.
llm-l w in Ben ol'TcMu. l, | .
(‘o'o I(l’) ('liarlin‘u Dvloulivv Iinxll. _
Fri-«Ry Fr n'. lu Idaho. lh' l’v. 'Slarlrm .
(‘nol Sun: Girl l’nrtl, “y 'l'. l‘. llarb lezll.
Hill» ilw Km from l"rl~wo. ll} J. C. (.‘awklriclc.
l" I Flyor. Inductive; ur, Ahu Bll' ml an Duck. By Chas.

. Wheeler.

Dom! Shot ‘iko ln Montana. By Rugur Starbuck.

Kit. (ho Dr-uvor Npart; nr, Tln- Bonaner Miner King. By
IC-Iwulul l.. \Vlwn‘l. r.

Dusky Darn-ll, the (lump Detective. By Edwin Emerson.
Roy. the lloy (‘l-uleicr. By (‘HL l’rvnlhs Ingralnnn.
Nod. the Rovlng Minor. By llm‘x'y llazanl.

Rocky Ben‘n “and. l‘)‘ W. .l. llmnllhm.

Dxn‘o, the (‘olornllo “’rc-llor. By Maj. E. L. Sf Vmin.
’I‘lm Donn-r Spurt‘n' Racket: or, Kit’x- Biz Bwnn. By
Eduard L. \‘V welt .

The Count. Dvll‘vllvc; or, Tln- Smugzlor‘s Shadnwer.' By
l’mL’r‘r sun-Ina (.

Dakota Dun ln (‘anyon (‘llyg or, (‘nlomdo an’a Check.
lly Philly 5. \\':|I‘nu. ' ;
Baoflhlnvl. lh-u. llw D -t Arm-w or, Pnolvr Jim and Ills Pnrd.
By Armer 1'. Harri. n.- 1r \la) 2%.

Frlrwo Tom on Dev ; n1 'l'lw Golden Gate Smugglers,
My Huorgl- llumy Mom. R "My Jnnr- 4.

Beadle-f» l’m-lu-L Llln-nry in fur sale by all Newsdealenfliw

cents

per copy, or aunt by mail on receipt nf six cents em-h.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, l’llbllnherg,
98 Wllflnm Street, New Yor'k.