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Copyrigh‘ed. 18"}, by BIADLI AND Anna; Dec. ‘18, 1892.

 

 

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‘l "0" No. 3“ “'ILLIAM ST. NEW Yank. “V” 0‘5"“-

JACK SCOTT IN TEXAS; ,
OR "\T’I

 

 

[VI/[y ,// / xv /

 

 

 

  

 

8

Jack Scott in Texas;

03,

THE WHITE WOLF.

BY EDWARD WILLETT,
AUTHOR or “ mm. ROBBINS, HUNTER,” “ SILVER.-
srun," “ALONE on THE PLAINS," “ my:
nov CRUISERS,” ETC, ETC.

CHAPTER I.
A STRANGER IN REDWOOD. .

ON a bright J une morning a solitary stranger
rode into Redwood.

Redwood, although the Tcxnns called it a
town, was not so much as at Village, hardly even
a hamlet. It was comwsed of a store, a black—
smith’s shop, a swldler’s shop. a “ rocery,”
where liquor was sold, one rather nice fran
house. and about half a dozen shunties. Red-
wood was chiefly devoted to loafing, drmkmg,
gambling, horse-racing, cock-fighting, and free
white fighting. To a person who‘could not be
interested by such amusements, Redwood was
a very uninteresting place.

The stranger who rode into town that bright
June morning, was not one of the lonfersof
Redwood, nor a raident of the adjoining coun-
try. His appearance showed that he belonged
to another class, and that he had come from
another clime.

He was a man of twenty-four or five, a little
above the medium hight, Well made and sinewy,
with a handsome and good face—a face full of
determination, courage and courtesy—the face
of a gentleman. He had blue eyes and light
hair and a slender mustache and a oatee
adorned his upper lip and his chin. e was
neatly dressed in a serviceable suit of dark and
stout, cloth, and were upon his head a common
black felt hat, sli htly drawndown over his
brows. He Carri a rifle at his saddle—bow and
a iswl at his belt.

here was Redwood, dusty, dirty, uninviting,
unpleasant. In the middle of the road wusu
game of marbles. in which nearly a dozen men
and boys were engaged. A dozen or so more
were variousl rrouped in front of the long and
[mixture am 1; e dingy grocery, watching the

mound talking aming themselves. A few
azy toes, sunnin themselves in spots, with
a supera undance of ogs, finish the scene.

Rough and wild-looking were those Redwood-
ites, for the most part, and their talk was as
rough as their appearance. It was chiefly horse
talk, just at that time, and several men were
considerably excited about it; but all occupation
and conversation were suspended when the
stranger came down the road, lookng like some-
thing newer, fresher, fairer and finer than the
specimens of male humans that were usually
seen in that region. ,

It was the stranger's horse, rather than his
personal ap arance, that attracted the admiring
attention 0 the lookers—on at Redwood. He
rode as it be had been born to the saddle, a dark-
‘brown mare, clean-limbed bright-eyed, and
perfectly formed, whoso gait and manner spoke
of high spirit and splendid action. All her

 

I

 

 

The White Wolf.

 

points were carefully noted and sngaciously

commented upon, as she slowly trotted into
town.

“There’s a horse that will beat the gray
mustang I” said a good-looking but dark—featured
young man, who was dressed with more pro—
tension to nontness and style than the others ex-
llll)ll,('(l. ,

“ There's the horse that will beat the grny
mustnng! I have been waiting for that mare,
and she hns come gust when I wanted her.” ‘

“ You’re talkin wild, Lee Crozier,” replied
u heavily-built, red-faced man. “Can’t you

see that that Innr’ has got too much daylight ,
under her? Her long legs will cover u good deal '

of ground, I allow; but she hnin’t got,the hold-
out to run a mile ag’inst my gray.” '

“ Business is business, Joe Jay it, and a bet
is a bet. I bet you that I won d have a horse
hero to—(lay, which would beat your gray mus-
tang, uud I meant to keep my word or lose the
money. When Fleetfoot gave out, I thought I
was stumped, and was almost ready to settle;
but that more has come along, just in time, and
I mean to run‘ her against the gray and hunt
him. You can have a chance, if you like, to
make another fifty on the’ race."

“ ’l‘would he jest like robbing you, Lee, and I
don’t want to do that.
show witn my grey.”

“ Here is the money. You can cover it or
not, just as you please.”

“1’11 cover it, of course. I ain’t a t to let
seeh a chance slip. Simon, will you old the
stakes?”

The money was put in the hands of the
grocery-keemr, and the attention offall was
again concentrated upon the mare, whose rider
had halted in front of the store, which he enter-
ed as if he bad business there.

“Let us go and look at the mare, and see
what condition she is in,” said Crozier. “ If she
needs rest or feed, she must have it. “"e’ve got;
the day before us, and I am not obliged to run

- her until I got ready."

“ All right," replied Jaypert. “ Any time to-

The mar’ won’tstand in .1

(la .” ~ 7
'llho two principals stepped to where the more - i
was hitched, in front of the store. ‘ Crozier re- '

moved her saddle and blanket, and the others
examined her teeth, felt of her muscles, and
praised or dein'ecinfod her points nsthe Saw fit.

She ain’t a day over six years 014 , if she‘s
that ” remarked one of Crozier’s friends. “ She
has heen well treated, too, and I believe that she
is sound in wind and limb.”

“She will do,” replied Crozler.
mustangr will meet his match this time.”

“ Young or old," said Jn pert, “ she ain’t ,no

“ The gray; 

match for the gray, and I ou‘t claim that he is ' I

under nine.”

As yet there had been no consultatiOn with the I

owner of the mare. nor had anyone suggestml'.

the propriety of asking him whether he would
allow her to be run in a race. Either they took
his consent as a matter of course. or considered

it a point of such small consequence that it was".

not worth inquiring about.

 

on. From the interior of the store he could
that the saddle had been removed tram

But he soon got an inkling of what Was going 1'

    

 

The White Wolf.

 

 

mare, and that a crowd was standing about her,
examinin her and talking about her.

He wal ed ‘to the door, to learn what these
proceedings meant.

The mare whiniiied when she. saw him, and
the crowd fell back a little at his approach—all
‘ but Crozioi', who stood at the horse's bond, with
 his hand on the bridle.

The stranger took in the situation at a glance,
and spoke courtcously, but firmly without ud-

dressing himself to any particular person in the

crowd. .
,1 “I am much obliged to you, gentlemen, for
taking the saddle and blanket olf of my mare;
but I could have attended to that matter 11))“
self, if I had supposed that it needed attend-
ing to.”
“No harm is done, I hope,” said Crozier.

her hard lately; have you?”

“No. She has had a long journey, but has
taken it easy, and isnot at all worsted. Why
do you ask?”

“ I wanted to know whether she isin condition
to run a mile for money.”

“Her condition is good enough, I suppose;
but I have no idea of running her.”

, “1 have, though. My money is up on her,
and I hav‘e‘entered her to‘run amile, to—day,

' against a gray mustang that belongs to this gen-
tlemen ”—-p0lnl}lllg at J aygwrt.

"Indeed! I should have supposed that you
would have thought proper to ask my consent,
before making any such bet or bargain. As you
have not seen fit to do so, I shall put my veto on
the proceeding."

“I hope, stran or, that you are not going to
5 oil sport,” sai Croziei‘, (-hiinging his tone I»
lttle. “That gray mustang or Joe Jaypert’s
has won every race in these parts. 1 bet that

‘I would produce a horse here today which
’ Would beat him. I was relying on a mare of
mine; but she has unfortunately been loiinder-
- ed, and I had nearly given the lhing up. when

I caught sight of tliis,mare of yours. I um sure

that she can beat the mustang. and it would

please you, I hope, to see her win the race.”

The stranger’s temper was somewhat molli-

fied by this explanation but not to the extent of
, , :permittin his horse to be used in the manner
‘ . mention
, “ It you had come at me in a different way,”
' the said, ,“ perhaps I mighthavc been disposed
. to accommodate you; but the style in which you
' have attempted to take posseSsion of my
pro rty don’t suit me. I have nothing to do
Witi your races, and don’t mean to he forced
. into them. I own this mare, and expect to con-
trol her as long as she is my property."

H The idea of abandoning the race was one
< whichw the people of Redwood could not possibly
_'  entertain. A generalniurniur of disapprobation

. , followed the remarks of the stranger.

'r Leo Crozier flushed with anger. It was his
opinion that his explanation ought to be con-
sidered sufficient, and that the stranger was

nwarrantably, willing to “ spoil sport.“

‘ Ashgou own the mare and expect to control
W " an d, “ what do you expect to do with
 Sli’nowillfi “ , I

3‘. intend to replace theblanketimdmddle

 

    
  
  
   
  
   
   
 

 

  

  

 

“The mare is all right. Haven’t been riding'

 

 

that have been removed from her, and to mount
her and go about my busmess.”
“ 1 don’t like to be rough on a stranger,” said

Crozior, speaking quite deliberately; “but you I

have bad a fair chance to do the liberal thing,
and you have no right to be pig-headed about it.
I am obliged to inform you that you won’t be
allowed to do what you propose to do, The
race has got to be run, and We must have the
mare. If any damage should be done to her, I
am responsible fOr it.”

The strong. 1' looked around upon the crowd
but saw no expression favorable to himself.

“ Do you call thistrehting a stranger civilly l”
he asked. “Where I came from a man has
the right to do as« he pleases with his own
property. I would like to know whether I am
to have fair play in this town, whether a
stranger has any rights which you are Willing
to respect.”

“ It’s just as Leo Crozier says," remarked
Juypert. “ The race is bound to he run, and we
must have the mare.”

“Very well. I am only one man, and there
are many of you against me; but I will defend
my right to my property while I live. 1 would
rather die than he run over ill this style. I
know there isn’t the least chance for me, if you
all pile on me; but it will be sure death to the
first man who lays his hand on that more to take
her away from here. ”

The stranger raised his rifle, and pistols and
other weapons were visible among the crowd.
The slrangei' stood with his back to the store, so

, that he could not be reached by a rear or flank

movement. If he should prove to be quick on
the trigger, he would be able to execute lllS
tnreat,‘ although he might be riddled with
bullets the next instant. Ills determination was
apparent, the purpose of the crowd was equall

plain, and there was a fair prospect for a bi'i —

limit and sanguinnry engagement, although it‘

'would necessarily to brief and one-sided.

The Situation was suddenly changed, by tho
appearance upon the scene of an unexpected
party.

CHAEE—n n. '
THE RACE.

THE party who unexpectedly a peared was a
female party—in lact nothing ess attractive
than a handsome girl of twenty, or thereabout,
with dark hair 'and brown eyes. and afresh.
healthy complexion. She was ridinga beauti-
ful spotted inns“ ang, and came dashing recklessly
among the crowd, so. tlei'ing them to the right
and left, and reined up her horse at the side of
the stranger’s brown mare.

Surprise and vexntion were in the expression
of Lee Crozier’s countenance as he looked up at
her. The stranger’s gaze was one of undis-
guised admiration. . ,

“Good-morning to you, Cousn) Kate,” said
Crozier. “ Don’t you think that you might get
into trouble; if you should run overafew of
these free and independent citizens?”

“What is this fuss about?" she asked, without

noticing his questionp “ What is the matter

here?” ‘

“ Nothing of any consequence. Nothing that _

 

     
   
    

 

     
     
       
       
 
         
     
       
      

 

  

4

 

. The White Wolf.

 

 

concerns you, at least. Just ride along, my
(1 or, and don’t bother us.”

A l, “ I’ll not do it,” she replied, directing,r her
words to Urozlrr, but her glances to the stranger.
“ I want to know what this means. It loo/cs as
if you have all joined against one man, and that
man ustrunger. There‘s nothing like fair-play.
What has he done?”

“ Nothing at all, my dear cousin.

. he won’t do that rmsvs the dill‘iculty. He
chooses to be as obstinate as a mule, and we
mean to make him listen to reason.”

“Own up, Lee, and tell me how you are try—
ing to impose upon him. Pistols and knives are
very convincing; but I don‘t consider them the
right kinl of reason." -

“There‘s no imposition about it, Kate; but I
suppose we can’t get rid of you unlessl explain
the whole matter. You know that I had agr :ed
to find a horse to run against Juypert’s gray
mustang to-day, or pay forfeit." You know that
I hal expected to run Flectfoot, and she is
foundered. We were talking the matter over,
when the stranger came I‘ldlllg‘ into town on this

,mare. I spotteil the more at once, as the very

horse I wanted, and entered her and bet on her."

Then the stranger comes out, while we Were ex-
amining the more, and says th it we sha’n’t rnn
her on any terms, just because we hu 1 made the
thing up before we askel his consent. I tried to
reason with him; but he stuck to what he said,
and vowed that he would fight for the mare.
Here she is, Kate Isn'tshe a beauty?”

“ A beauty!” exclaimed Kate. “ That’s no
name for it. She is just heavenly! I do believe
she can beat the gra , and would give any thing
to see her do it. ' hat wretched mustani,r bout
my Spot, and I lost twenty dollars on the l‘.l(‘L‘,
and haven’t ha 1 money enough to buy a decent
dress. He has been beating every thin: in the
country. and 1 do think th-it th 3 conceit ought
to be taken out of him somehow.”

She turned to the stranger, with a gesture
and an expression of pi toous cntrcuty.

“ Oh, sir, do plow-1C1 let her run! I would be so

lad to see her beat that gray, and she is such a
geauty, and I do believe she can do it. I can’t
express what a favor it will be to me, if you will
let her run.” _ _ ' i ’

The'stranger grounded hIS mile, raised his hat,
and bowed gracefully to the fair creature on the
spotted horse.

“ As the lady wishes it," he said “I will glad—
1 permit my mare to run, and will see to it that
she does her duty in the race.” ,

This settlement of the difficulty was received
with demonstrations of approval from the crowd
and with the sweetest of smiles from the lady.

Lee Crozier's dark face grew darker, and he
looked as if hodisnpproved of the lady’s gracious
manner toward the stranger, and of the strun-
ger‘s open admiration of the lady. But his
soowl soon faded away, and he extended his
hand to the stranger.

'f I hope you will have no hard feelings to-
ward me, sir, or toward any of thn rest of us.”
he said. “ We have not meant to treat you un-

. civilly. Perhaps on and I look at this sort of
thing in diflerent lights." »

“Perhaps we- do. I hear you no illPXn'ill. as

vibe  is atan and, and we will let it pass.”

It i 5 what

~ mare win the race."

 

  
 

   

“ Hadn‘t I better take your more over to COL
oncl Uundiif’s stable, and give her a feed and a‘
rubl ring-down?”

“ I don’t think she needs it.”

“She ought to be in first-class condition to , ,
run agninst the gray mustang. He is no slouch, ««
I a sure you.” , i I

“ Can I see him?" ‘ ' ‘

“I suppose so.
Mr. Jaypcrt?”

The red-faced man did as he was requested to
do, and the stranger was soon inspecting the
gray mustang. That much-talked-of animal
was a. large, big-boned horse, gaunt and clumsy
in appearance, but with eyes that were full of
sluinbermg lire. His sinews and‘chest told of
great strength and endurance, such as might
easily decide a lonz race, if properly brought
out and usel.

The stronger examined him thoroughly. with
thle1 air of a man who understands the points of
a orse. ‘

“ How long is the course‘s“ he asked Crozier. I

“A niile."

" I (on’t think you need trouble yourself
about my mare. The horse is no slouch, us you
say, but I believe she- will run away from him.”

“ Very well. \ You ought to know best. I
will send for my black boy to ride her. You
will find him a good band."

“Never mind that. I will ride her myself.”

“ That will be just throwingr away the chances. ,
Jnypert will have a little nigger to ride the
gray, alrl the more can’t afford to carry yOur
weigh t. ”

“ l’lcas'a don’t throw away any chances!”
pleaded the lady; “I do so want to see the

WWII you bring him down, 

 

 

 
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
  
   
   
  
  
   
     
  
    
  
   
 
   
  
   
 
    
 

“ As the more is mine,” persisted the stranger,
“ I must use her to suit myself, and I am not in
the habit of throwing away chances. Do you
think, Mr. Crozicr, that she stands a chance to
lose?” , ’

“ I am afraid she does, if she is to carry your
weight.” , ‘

“ 1 would like to know what the owner of the
gray thinks about, it.” '

i “I believe that} my horse will win the ra
easy,” said Jaypert. “If you are to ride the
mare, I am sure of it. I don’t want any thing ,2
better than that.” . > .

“ I will bet you five hundred dollars that my
mare wins this race.”

“ If I had that much money with me, stranger,
I would jump at the offer.”

“ That is just the amount I have, and I want
to bet it all or none. You can find someone to
back you I suppose.” ,

Tho proprietor of the Redwood store. said
that he was willing to guarantee J00 Jaypert t)
the amount of five hundred dollars, and the
stranger )ut a roll of bills in the merchant’s
hands. I e then announced that he was readyu ‘l,
for the rare. . 4 .- _ I r

The course was on the open prairie; but it was , 
level, and the ground was in good condition.
The horses were to run as they pleased. from
the starting-place to, a solitary tree in the dis-
tance; to turn the tree, and to come back‘as'.
they pleased. \ .,
.’.l.‘he judges were selected, the starth

5. ., , _ \.

 

 

   
  
     
 
   
   
 
    
   

  
 
  

l

l
E

 

   
   
 
  
 
 
    
   
  
   
 
   
  
 
  
  
    
   
   
   
  
    
 

    

' ‘ I. never saw anything like‘her.
’ I adear beauty!" 1

was ointed out, and the riders got into their
saddyes the stranger mounting his mare, and an
active ittle no no boy climbing on top of the
ray mustang, is black and diminutive figure
resenting a strange contrast to the stately form
of the white rider.

“ Be careful what you are about,” whispered
Crozicr, at the last. “The further that gray
gees, the faster he gets."

.The stranger nodded, and the word was
wen.

Both horses had an excellent send off, the
gray loading at a swinging pace. and the more
following with long and graceful strides. Her
motion was so light and easy, that her hool’s
hardly seemed to touch the ground. The horse
kept the lead, however, and his pace grew
swifter as he warmed up to his work, while
the more did not seem to gain upon him an inch.

In this manner the first half-mile was run,
Lee Crozier’s face wearing a. look of anxiety.
and the few partisans of the more appcuring
to be much disappointed at her performance. ,

At the tree, the horse stumbled, in making a
short turn, but quickly recovered himsolf, and

pressed on toward the starting—point with
' greater speed than ever. The mare swept
around the tree in an easier but wider circle,
and started on the honwstretch ut aconsider—
able distance behind her connmtitor.
As Crozier had predicted, the speed of the
gray increased continually, and the mare made
. but little ell‘ort to narrow the distance between
them, until about half the homestretch had
been passed over. Then the stranger could be
seen to lift his bride—rein and to loan slightly
I forward in his saddle.

Suddenly the mare “ lit out,” like an arrow
shot from a bow and a wild yell arose from the
spectators as she seemed fairly to fly over the
course, until she was nearly at his side. In an-
other instnnt she had passed him, and was a
head and neck beyond him on her Way to the
goal. In vain the small African lashed the gray
with his riding—Whip, and yelled as if he would
split his lungs; the. more was well ahead. and
going at a. pace which Redwood had new-r yet
witnessed. Her rider did not attempt to hold
her in or urge her on, but sat there like a. statue,
as she dashed across the starting line, fully three
len tbs ahead of the gray mustang.

hen she slacked her speed, and the stranger

; , cantered her up to the store, where he dis-
? mounted, removed his saddle and blanket, and

rubbed her down with a whisp of straw which
he» took from a crockery crate. All the Spec--
tutors had followed him, without stopping to
notice the condition of the. gray, and among the
first came the lady. ’

5‘ What do you call your mare, sir?” she
asked.
1 “Her name is Flora,” replied the strain er.

 ,1 Avian,” is a prettY name; but I thin you

ght to call her Whirlwind, or Spirit of the
Wind, or Lightning. or something that would
express her swiftness. Why, she IS a wonder!
Oh, she is such

. 1-‘sW0uld ou sell her?" inquired Crozier,

‘52,“ I Wonl' as soon sell myself,” was the stran-
gfis reply \
r _- ,r ,3.

V1?” '1

 

The White Wolf.

 

I ‘l‘Do you expect to remain here?” asked the
ar y. .
“A few days, perhaps. I have some business
to transact—some inquiries to make in the
neighborhood—and I don’t know how much
time it may take.” ,

“You must come out to my uncle’s house
—-Cuptain Crozier’s. He will be glad to seeyou,
I know. There is no place to stop : t, here in
Redwood, and I am so anxious to ride that
mare! Lee, you Will bring this gentleman out
with you, won’t you. now?”

She looked at her cousin as she spoke; but he
was not listening to her. He was otherwise en—
gaged.

 

CHAPTER III.
LAST CHANCE.

IT was an unusual occurrence that had on-
gaged the attention of Lee Crozier—the arrival
of an Indian, an unmistakable red-man, arrayed
in blankets and leggins and moccasins, with
nothing on his head but his long, straight black
hair. l‘hero was no paint upon his brown face,
which was expressive of nothing at all unless of
that entire absence of expression which is called
stolidity or impossibility.

This aborigino had dismounted from a rugged
little pony, and he walked through the crowd,
without noticing the stares that were. directed
at him,. right up to Lee Crozier. whom he
touched upon the shoulder, and whispered Some-
thing to him, in words which’ would not be
understood by thq others.

()rozier seemed to be perplexed and troubled.
He frowned as he looked at his cousin and the
stranger, and muttered something that caused
the Indian to shake his head. Then he step ed
to, his cousin, and whispered in her ear. ghe
made no reply, and he turned away, mounted
the horse, and joined the Indian on his pony,
and they rode away together.

The lady also appeared to beperplexod and
uneasy.» She looked anxiously after her cousin
for a few moments, and then turned toward the
stranger, who had just received from the Red—
wood mcrchant the roll of hills which he had
handed him, and was listening to his statement
that he would collect the amount of Joe
Jay rrt’s bet, and pay it over in a‘ few days.

“ y cousin has been called away,” she said,
“and has left to me the duty and leasure of
inviting you to his father’s house. f you will
accept the invitation. I will show you the way,
and that ought to be something of an induce—
ment.” '

“ The greatest inducement ssible,” gullantly
replied the young man, thong he could not help
thinking that Crozier, if he really intendedto
give the invitation, might have spoken of it
before he started. “ I gladly accept the invita-
tion, and hope that you and your relatives will, ‘
not be glad to get rid of me when you havebc— ,
come, acquainted with me.” '

“We are willing to take that risk. It you
are ready sir, we will start new.” ,

“ Permit me to assist you," he said, as she‘was
about to mount her horse.

“I don’t need any assistance. I can playa
lgneflhand at getting ‘on horseback, it nothmg
B 98. I .

 
 

 

 
 

‘ 8‘ V The White Wolf.

 

 

 

’ With, two white hands she seized the bow and
book of her saddle, made a spring, and vaulted
into her scat.

’ " ' “There, sirl What do you think of that?

 You couldn’t do it, riding as youdo. “'hoa,

’ ’ Spetl You know that I huvn’t got my foot in
the stirrup yet."

The stronger quickly mounted, and took his

smile; but there was something more than
amusement in the look with which he regarded
her.

Neither spoke until they had got away from
Redwood, out of ear-shot of the spectators of the
horse-race, who were looking after them as they
rode away. Then the Indy took the word.

“ My name is Kate Crozier. W hat is yours?"

“My name? It is Last Chance.”

“ Lest Chancel Well, thnt is funny. But I

‘ didn’t ask your nickname, siI‘,”——this with some

dignity. , ~

“ It is not a. nickname, Miss Crozier, I assure
you, but my real name. I come of a large fam—
ily of Chances. There are many brothers and
sisters of us, and my father, hoping that I would
be the end of the tribe, gave me the name of
Last. Thus it is that I am named Last Chance.”

“ That is so queer! I am nfraid Vou can nevor
go to Congress under that name.

rvery near going out of the World this morning.
I do believe that they would lmvo made an end
of you, if the all‘nir hadn’t turned out as it did.
Some of those Redwood follows are just mean
and cowardly enough to do that.”

, “ Your cousin is not one of that style, I

hope.” i

“ No; I don‘t think that Lee is mean or

cowardly; but he is passionate and rcvengel'ul.

I am afraid of him, sometimes, myself.” _

The young man’s face brightened. He had

robahly reached the conclusion that Kate

rozier was not in love with her cousin, what—
ever her cousin’s feelings might be toward her,
and this reflection seeme l to give him pleasure.

 “Perhaps I was too quick to take offense,” he

a: said. “I suppose there would have been some—
thing of a fight, if you hadn’t come in time to

revcnt it, and it is possible that I owe you my

,3

“ I don’t know but you do. and perhaps, some

of the others owe me their lives, too. But I don‘t

like to think about it, and would rather speak of

something else. I hope that your business in

this country will not iring you into any more
such scrapes.”

' “ I hope it Won't; but I will be likely to fol-
low it. wherever it may lend me. I will have to
look after some lands, and perhaps I may invest
in cattle. Do you know any thing of 21 man.
somewhere in these parts, nmned Wiley
Simmes?”

r The effect of this cgiestiou upon Kate Crozicr
was astonishing. he suddenly turned pole,
and then the blood rushed to her face in a ter-
rent. At first she glanced at her companion,
with a half-scared, bewildered look, and then
turned her faceaway, 'us if to hide it from his

 

 

gaze.

“Wiley Simmes?” she re cated, in a dazed
Valid frightened manner. “ es-—I- have heard
of him. There is such a. men somewhere in these

place at her side, gazing at her with an amused

But you came

 

, WM

 

arts. Why do you ask me about Wiley
l, immes?" .

“ I have heard that a men of that name is an,
extensive cattle-dealer, or herder, or one who ' ,
has control of cattle, and it is likely that my '7 '
business may bring me in connection with him.‘

I .thought that you might have heard of him, ‘
and that you might be able to tell me whether'
he lives anywhere hereabout." p

“ Yes—I have heard of him.” said she again,
dwelling on each Word, as if she felt it necessary
to be careful what she said. “ I have heard of
him, and who hasn’t? I he that your business
may not bring you in CO lision or connection
with him.”

“ Why so? Is he one of the dangerous charac—
tors?”

" I am afraid he is, one of the most danger-
ous. But I ought not to say any thing about ~ I
him, I suppose, as I do not really know any
thing,r of my own knowledge. He does not as—
sociate with other white men. Indeed, I believe
that there is no love lost between him and other
Texans. 1 have heard him spoken of as an out-
law, as one whose dealings in cattle consist in
taking possession of cattle that don’t belong to
him. But this is only hearsay. He may be a
very good mun. I hope he is, God knows!”

The young man looked at his companion as if
he would like to read her heart and search out her
secrets. He could not account for her emotion
at the mention of the name of Wiley Simmes,
for the cautious and contradictory manner
in which she spoke of him, for her evident hor-
rnr of the reputed outlaw, and her fervent hope
that he was not as boil as he was supposed to be.
There was more in her demeanor mid her words
than was apparent to the eye and the our; and
he wished that he might fathom the mystery.

“ If Mr. Simmes has suchra reputation,” he
said, “ I mu at be careful how I have dealings
with him. Does be live for from here?” u .

“I can’t say. Somewhere in the hills, 1 be—
lieve, but I don't know. I do hope that you
won’t go near him or attempt tofind him." . ‘

The girl turned 11 ion her companion such an ' x 7; ',
appealing look, that he felt himself a scoundrel ' '
for having provoked her to such a display oi
emotion. o

“ I was only asking as a matter of curiosity,”
he said. “ As he is such an unpleasant subject,
let us speak of something else."

They did '

 

 

 

speak of something else, and spoke~ u C 1 '
pleasantly and well; at least, each was highly
please-.1 with the nature and, manner Of the
other’s speech: and the time passed rapidly un- * ; -
til they came in sight of the Crozier mansion; ‘
It was a large, one-storied building, with a‘,«-'
veranda on two sides, and numerous outbuild- ‘
lugs scattered around. It was situated 'on‘a
ridge, or swell of the prairie, near the‘edge of a , ., "
belt of heavy timber, of which the Site of the 
house had once formed a. part, as was evidenced, . ,
by the shade trees that were left standing, and
the stumps of those that had been cut down. '
The youngr man was ushered into the mansion
by Kate Crozier, and was introduced [to halt
uncle, an elderly gentleman, with the appear» V
once and manner of a. well-to-do fanner or
harder. To him Kate told the story ,of thereto
with all its accompaniments, and he’ wining aurm .

 
   
  
  
   
  
   

 

/

           
 
  

      
         
   
   

 
 
  

    

 

 

 

 

 
 
 

  

 

 

 

 

   
 
 
   
    
 

 

 
  
  
 

, acqfiiired his singular baptismal appellation.
loo

riscd and delighted, that he shook the stranger’s
and» heartily, and gave hini a. most cordial wel-

' 001110.

“I wouldn‘t have missed hearing this for a
herd of cattle,” he said, “ and it is a great honor
and pleasure to me to be allowed to entertain
that more and her owner at my house. You
lshall both have the best the plantation affords,
and you must make yourselves perfectly at
home, and 1 hope you will let me see what the
‘mare, can do, when she has had her feed and
rest. -

Cordial as Captain Crozier’s greeting was,
there were two matters that gave him trouble
and uneasiness, detracting somewhat from his

, gratification at receiving his visitor.

, The name of his guest—Last Chance—appear-

ed to strike him strangely and unpleasantly,
and he was hardly satisfied with the young
man’s explanation of the manner in WthhIlIIO

e

_ ed at Chance closely, again and again, and
ev1dently regarded him withn sort of suspi—
cion, which he could not easily shake off.

He was also strangely annoyed, if not actual—
ly irritated, when Kate related how and by
whom her cousin had bwn called away from
Redwood. He spoke to her on the subject in a
whisper, seeming to be not at all relievml by

I the answers she gave him, and there was a con—

straint in his manner, as well as a cloud on his
countenance, during the remainder of the day.

With Last Chance, however, the afternoon
passed away very pleasantly, and he was not at
all rejoiced when the day came to an end. He
went with Captain Crozicrto visit the mare,
and‘told her age and pedigree, and gave a sam—
ple of her action. With Kate he wandered
over the grounds, taking for greater pleasure in
Seeing and hearing her, than in anything else he
saw and heard.

He soon discovered that Kate was the f cmalo
head of the house, Captain Crozier being a
widower with only one son. The duties of
Kate’s position did not permit her to bestow all
her time upon the guest, and he was forced to
find solace in the society of the old gentleman,
who struck him as being extremely cautious
almost to the verge of timidjty, in everything
he did and said. His demeanor, in fact, was so
different from that of most men of his station
and manner of life, that the young man was

persuaded that there must be some mystery con-
 :ficted With the family, and his curiosity natur-

prompted him to wonder what it was.

0 solution of the mystery, if there was any
mystery, presented itself. and he was finally
shown - to the room that he was to occupy for
the night. ’

It was evidently one of the best rooms Iin
the house. and was Well furnished; but there
was nothing peculiar about it. He examined it
pretty thoroughly, without finding any thing
that specially attracted his attention, with the
exception of an old family Bible, which he
casually looked into. It opened at a family

 

.m‘z‘tster, but the register did not seem to have »

used.
oasis-there was one record. Under the head

 

 

 areadth'. t :
i _ ,b isenry

18%?thth Simmes and Ella Crozier." >

  

i.

Ellie White Wolf. . . "

“ So 1” he muttered.~ “ That is right into my
hand, and I would be glad to know a little more
about it than I now know. It is no wonder the
youu lady looked at me so strangely when I
aske her about Wiley Simmes, as he is evi—y
dently related to the family. But why should
she deny the relationship? The Ella Crozier
whom Simmes married was probably a sister if
this old gentleman, and the fair, Kate 1's his
niece. Is it possible that she is a daughte 'of
Wiley Simmes? No, it can’t be, as her name is
Crozier. There is surely a mystery about the
matter, and I mean to get at the heart of it if I
can.

Unable to find anything more, in the Blble or
elsewhere, that could throw light upon the sub-
ject of his wonderment, he went to bed, Where
he turned the matter over in his mind until
sleep set him to dreaming-of it.

CHAPTER IV.
IN THE HEART OF THE HILLS. <

A NIGHT scene in the heart of the Lampasas
Hills.

At the head of a pass is a wild and romantic
valley, with plenty of timber and water, and
With grass where it has not been eaten ofi‘ by
the animals. The valley is shut in on all sides
by ridges and cliffs, which render it nearly if
not quite inaccessible, except by way of the

iass.

I Several skin lodges, in the Comanche style,
are scattered about among the trees, and a few
rude log cabins are built against the base of a
clilf. It is evidently a permanent camp. As
such, it can hardly be suspected of being the
residence of any of the wild tribes of Texas, as
it is not their custom to have permanent abiding
places.

And yet the indications are very strong that
it is an Indian encampment. A number of men,
in the garb of Indians, and bearing unmistakably
the appearance of aborigines are standing and
lounging about, or engaged in various light em—
ployments.

Among them, however, are nearly an equal
number of others, who also wear the savage
garb, and might easily be mistaken for Indians,
did not a close. inspection show that the bronze
skins of most of them were originally white, and
that they belonged to another race or more than
one race, of men. , ,

The cam is the rendezvous and retreat of a.
band of w its and red Indians—outlaws both
—who have become known and feared far and
wide, under the leadership of Left Hand, 8;
Kiowa sub-chief, and Glade Oak, whoiis more
than suspected of being a white man. ‘ * 7

Glade Oak and Left Hand are seated under a
tree, near a lodge, conversing, and several other
white and rod men are near them, apparently
paying little attention to the conversation, but in
reality drinking in every word, and its tone
is not altogether amicable. -

Left Hand has been complaining to the white

 

'chief coucernin the joint operations of the red

and white mem ers of the band, and of the com-
paratively small share of plunder, in his opinion,
that has fallen to the red—men. He also oom-
plniiis that expeditions hays been undertaken
and raids have been conducted with arview to

  

 

 

8 ' The White Wolf.

, -. a,” es Wu».
mmmwmm~me§Hu i. m 1  N v, ' "' , '" l   l . . '1  . .

   

‘»

 

serve the interests of Glade Oak and his friends,
rather than those of Left Hand and his people.
He is evidently dissatisfied with the management
of their predatory partnership, and speaks
sharply as well as querulously.

Left Hand is a tall, dark—featured Indian,
with a morose countenance, and a hungry,
vulture-like ex ression. Glade Oak is also
dark-featured. or a white man, and his hair is
quite gray. He bears his years well, however,
and his arge form, straight and full-chested.
shows that he still possesses an abundance of
stren th and endurance.

“ ell, chief,” said the White man, “ I must
admit that you make a fair showing; with your
complaints, when you bunch them all together;
but they don't really amount to much when we
come to pull them apart and take them singly.
However, I want to please you and your people,
if I can, and mean a) try to satisfy you. As for
the cattle. I know that we haven’t got as much
for them lately as we expected to get; but there
have been many difficulties in the way. We
have not only had to take risks, ourselves. but
have had to pay other people for taking risks;
so that the loss and the cost have been consider-
able. We can’t spare men to run the, cattle
into Mexico, and that has got to be too risky a
business anyhow; so we must do the best we
can

“If we get little for the cattle,” replied the
chief, “ we must take more cattle, and get
more.”

“That is another of your complaints. You
think that we ought to make more raids and
bring back more cattlc;though I am afraid that
you are more hungry for scalps than for cattle;
and that is a business which pays less than any
thing. These Texans can stand it to lose a few
cattle and horses now and then, but. when it
comes to killing their wives and children, we
may get the whole country raised, and the last
man of us will have to go under.” ‘.

“ Is Glade Oak afraid?”

“ You know whether I am afraid, and it isn’t
becoming to you, chief, to throw out any such
slurs. It you must have a raid. you shall have
it, and plenty of cattle. If it should bring us
into trouble, you mustn’t blame me. There is a
fine herd fattening for us, down 011 the plains;
but it belongs to a man named Jack Scott, who
is a captain of ranrrers. Nothing would suit me

V better than to pitch into one of that crowd. and
I hope that you will be as well suited. “'hat
do on think of it, Peters?"

at is into my hand," replied a white man,
who had been sitt ng near, seeming to take no
interest in the conversation. “I owe Jack Scott
a. grudge and will be glad of the chance to take
it out of him. Bnt we may stir up a hornets’
nest. and that‘s a fact.”

There was a shrill whistle at the head of the
pass, which attracted the attention of all. and
soon two men rode into the valley—one of them
a. white man, mounted on a good horse, and the
other an Indian, riding a pony. As they came
forward and dismounted, Glade Oak recognized
them, and hastened to meet them. He seized the
hand of mewhite man. and wrung it until his
visitor winced with pain. ’ r

' , “ 1am so glad to see you, Lee!” he exclaimed.

 

, ,~ 4. if

“ It was so good of you to come as soon as I sent ,, i

for youl, But you Will never regret it, my boy.
You shall lose nothing by it. ”

“ I hope I haven‘t lost anything bly it,” replied
Lee Crozier; “ but I am not sure. know that
I disliked to come, just at the time I was called
u 01).

“ Why so?" I

“ Because of Cousin Kate and a stranger. I
didn’t like to leave them just then."

“ What do you mean? Come and tell me all
about it."

The two walked aside, and Lee Clozior gave
Glade Oak in, full and circumstantial account of
the arrival of the young stranger at Redwood,
of the diiliculty that ensued, of the timely ap—
pearance of Kate Crozier, and of the race that
wound up the affair.” ‘

“ Well," said the white chief, when he had

finished his account; “ I don’t see any occasion ‘

for uneasiness. The man wasaperfect stranger,
and it is not likely that Kate would take him
home, although she asked you to invite him.”
“Don’t you know Kate better than that,
uncle? You know how impulsive she is, and
how willful she is, too. She is bound to have
her own way in spite of everybody, and I could
see that she had taken one of her sudden fancies
to the stranger, or to his horse, perhaps to both.
I would be Willing to bet that he isat In
father’s house now. But that was not all.

was suspicious of that man, as I am naturally '

suspicious of every stranger =who comes from
that direction and in his style. I wanted to find
out who and what he was. I would have taken
him home, and would have wormed his secret
out of him, if he had a secret; but Kate—she
would be more likely to tell everythingsbe knew,
than to find out anything worth learning.”

“ Vtht sort of a. man was this stranger, as to
looks?”

“ Young—a little older than I am~fuir-
skinned — light-haired -— blue—cye<1—-' with sense
and courage and activity and determination

written allover him—a real splendid follow to

look at, I must admit.”

“ There are plenty of young men of that de-
scription. Can it he, think you. that there was
another of them to come' that he has come at
last?” I ’

“It might be, and my suspiciOns, are always
running in that direction. If there should come
another, Uncle Wiley, you know the old saying,
that the third time is the charm.”

“ I would run no risks. my boy. Suspicion
would be enough for me.
to suspect that he has come on that errand, I

would crush him at once. But I should hate to ~‘ ‘ I

have any innocent blood on my hands, and it
can hardly be possible that another was to
come." « .
“ he not. Whoever he may be. it won’t
be safe or him to get between Kate and me.” _
“ Do you still wish to marry her?” , ..
“ Of course I do.” '
“It is well that you do. No matter how I

came by my property. and no matter how I may ' ' '
ile at my death,'an§if '

leave it, there will he a
she is to have it. With t e property you unto
inherit, there will be a splendid fortune for you
two, and it must be united in you. In that theré

 

If Ishould have cause  ' ' “

 

mus

infis

‘ ‘cous

u,

dos
Dug.
chai
wbe
tha‘
.sett
mat

   
   
  
  
   
   
   
  
    
  
   
  
   
    

 

must be no failure. What seem to be her feel-
, in toward you at present!”

1 ‘ She likes me well enough, I su pose as a

 cousin. When that is said, all is sai ' .”
“Captain Crozier has too little energy. He
‘ does not take the interest in the match that he
' ought to take, that he must take. That shall be
i I changed, and all concerned shall know just
 ' ' where they stand. She shall be given to know
I ,5  that she is tobc your wife, and the affair must be
.settled before long. Yes, it must be settled and
made certain, beyond the reach of chance or
change. I am afraid that I am to have trouble
here my boy. Left Hand and his Kiowus are
becoming sus icxons almost rebellious. I a in in-
clined to thin that they have been guessing at

‘ rsome secrets which I would rather they should

‘ know nothing about, and that they will be for
taking the reins into their own hands. If they
_ in it, there will he a fight, and one side or the
ot er must be rubbed out. And again—though
I don’t like to confess it. and perhaps an) silly
and superstitious—I feel that I am not long for
this world, that trouble is ahead of mo, and that

.it is likely to make an end of me. I want you
and Kato-——”

,7 The sentence was interrupted by a horrid yell,
like the bowl of a wild beast, but strangely sug-
gestive of a human voice, proceeding from one
of the ledges that Surrounded the valley. Then

I something was heard crashing among the bushes
’ and loosening the stones along the ledge, and the
,howl was re eated, echoed and recchoed from

‘ rock to rock, until it'died away in the distance.

The White chief sprung to his feet, his coun-
tenance expressive of surprise and terror. Lee
Crozier also arose, his e as wide open with Won-
der, listening intently or a repetition of that
horrid, unearthly yell. -
“What is it?” he asked, as some men came

 

, running a}: making their way toward the ledge.
“The hitc Wolf!” was the reply. “He has
got loose!"

“ I told you,” said Glade Oak, “ that trouble
was to come upon me. This is the beginning of
it.,

He hastened to a lodge, seized a rifle, and ran
toward the ledge, closely followed by Lee Cro—
zier. A number of white and red Indians were
already on the ledge, in pursuit of the creature
who had uttered the terrific howls.

, Crozier caught sight of him, in the moonli ht,
as he crossed a bare part of the ledge. he
creature had the form of a man, although' his
nos could not be seen, was scantily clad in
skins, and the remnants of a broken chain
.elanked among the rocks as he ran. His speed

  

  

pursuers, and he seemed to be impervious to

their bullets, although shot after shot was fired

after him."

At. last his ursuers uttered a shout of tri-
h, asJie ha ted at the edge of a precipice,

Which, as they well know, was so steep that no

man would dare attempt to descend it.

“ Shoot him downl Shoot him down!” cried
howhitochief, as he fired his own rifle at the
fa Waive. , *
he creature uttered another howl, louder,
(lemmas horrid, than ever, and leaped out

, , . , o  ,

  
   
   
 

 

The White Wolf.

was’s’o great, that he easily kept ahead of his

 
  
  
    
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
   
   
   
   
  
 
 

9,/

CHAPTER V.
OLD ACQUAINTANCE.

LAST CHANCE was in no hurry to tear himself
away from Captain Crozier‘s mansion. There
was a mystery about the place which he desired
to solve, and there was an attraction, in the
shape of Kate Crozier, from which he did not
wish to free himself.

He made little progress in solving the mys-
tery, but considerable progress in increasmg
the strength of the attraction. He and Kate
Orozier becamemutually more and more pleased
with each other, and she seemed to have given
herself up, Without regard to myste' ies and
anxieties, freely and unreservedly to the en-
joyment of his society. I

A ride which he took, in the sole company of
himself, on the evening of his second day‘s so-
journ at the Crozier mansion, developed some
new ideas, and added a fresh interest tothe situ-
ation.

He had gone several miles from the lanth—
tion, in the direction of the distant ’hi ls, and
was thinking about starting on his return, when
he met another solitary horseman, who was rid-
ing: toward him.

This horseman was still a oung man, perhaps
a dozen years older than C ance, although his
hair, which was quite white, gave him a singular
appearance of advanced ago. His attire was
that of the border, with a touch of the savage
showing itself in buckskin moccasins and heav-
ily fringed hunting-shirt. A rifle was slung at
his back, and he carried a heavy stock whip in,
his hand. ,

As they a proached each other, Last Chance
recognized t 0 other horseman, and spurred for-
ward to meet him. A surprised and joyful
greetin ensued. ,

“ Jac Scott!” exclaimed Chance; “ how in
creation did you get down into this part of the
country?” '

“ Is that you, Arthur Lynn? You are the
last man I would have expected to meet here.”

“‘ I am gllad 170 see you, old fellow. Tell me * - ,:
what it is t at Iyou are doing in Texas.” v _ I.

“Just now have been hunting some stray /
cattle, but haven’t found them, and am on my
way home.”

"On your way home! Do you meanto so.»
that on have a home; in this region?” ~

“ hat, is just what I have, and itrisasnre
enough home. I have not only a. home, but a
wife, and a baby. and a big plantation, and 80
man cattle that I have lost the count of them."

“ um glad to hear that. How, did .it hap~
pen?"

"I came down here, soon after you left me,
when we returned from our trip tothe moun-
tains. I don’t know why I came, unless it was
because I thought [I belonged in Texas; but this
was just the place for me unit turned out. In-
dians were pretty bad just then, and I made
myself so useful to the people about here,thai;
they chose me a captain of rap ers‘to look after
the Indians and some others w o needed takin
care of. I had a rough time in that service, bu 2
it was the sort of a life that I liked, anyou
know, and I didmy duty and became pop ‘1'. ,

“ Among other people I becameintimate with, 

      
           
           
         
     
          
      
     
     
    
 
  
   

 

  
 
         
  

   
 
  

   

 

, on old gentleman who, owned lot; of and and»

 
   
 

 

    

10

The White Wolf. ‘

 

 

cattle, and who had only one child, and she was
a, daughter. The daughter took a fancy to me,
and .l to her, and We concluded to marry. Her
father was willing, and we did marry. Then
the old man died, and left us the plantation and
cattle that I told you about.
Tennessee—that’s my wifeabut she let‘s me
boss them, and she is the host girl in the world,
and. I am as happy as any fellow needs to be.”

“ I congratulate you, Jack, With all my
heart, and am free to say that such good luck
oguédmot happen to a man who is more worthy
o l .

“Anyhow, Arthur it is much easier to im-
agine why I should have come to this country,
than why I should find you here. I want to
know what has brought you to Texas?”

“ It is a long story, Jack, and a. hard one;
but I will give it to you in as few words as .)OSSl-
ble. Many years ago, shortly before was
born, my father was a prominent lawyer in
Kentucky and prosecuting attorney of a judi-
cial; district. In one of the counties which
composed the district lived a family named
Simmes, the male members of which were a
man and his two sons. They were all most (les-
perate and outrageous law-breakers, and were
the terror of the country. ,

“My father determined that those outlaws
should be brought to justice, and stirred up the
people until he gathered a posse for the pur-
pose. He put himself at the head of the posse,
and accomplished the object, after a desperate
struggle, in which the old man and one of the
sons were killed. The other two sons were cap-
tured, were placed in the safest jail in the dis-
trict, and were securely guarded until the day
of trial when they were found guilty of mur—
der,and sentenced to be hung. The sentence
was executed upon one of them; but the other,
whose named was Wiley Simmes, escaped from
the jail and fled the'country. The people show-
ed their appreciation of my father’s efforts in
breaking up the gang, by electing him judge of
that circuit.

“One ni ht, a few weeks after I came into
I the world, ewas seated in his house, with his
family around him, when the crack of a ride
was heard, and he fell dead, shot through the
brain. It was soon learned that Wiley Simmes
had returned from Texas, and had been seen in
the neighborhood. As he disappeared immedi-
ately after my father’s death, there was the
stron est reason to suspect that he had com-
mitte the murder, that he had come from
Texas for that special purpose.

“ My eldest brother, Reuben, was then nearly
amen grown. As soon as he was of age, he
left us, and started for Texas, with the avowed
intention of fludin Wiley Simmcs and aveng-
ing his father’sdeat . We never heard of "him
again, and thofpresumption is that he failed to
shear the wol and met his death in the at—
tem Is. My mother had been broken down in
hea. th b my father‘s death; the loss of Reu-
ben fill the measure of her afflictions, and she

died.

“ Then my brother Frank set out on the same
I errand that had made an end of Reuben. I
" wanted to with him; but he would not al-
.. lowmeto sagging that I was, too young;

They belong to

 

    

 

   
 

It wasa long time before I heard from him
then I received a letter, telling me that he had
heard of Wiley S1mrnes, and was seeking him.

“There was another long silence; then an—
other lettcr, saying that he had found Simmes,
and was on his trail. The letter was written
from somewhere in this vicinity. That was
about five years ago, and I have never again
heard from Frank. He, also, failed to shear the a
wolf.

“I am the last of the family, and have de- l

a Line

voted myself to the same mission of vengeance.
I was held back, during several years, b cir-
cumstances which were beyond my contro , but
have come at last. I have not only the death
of my father to avenge, but the fate my two
brothers—whatever that may have been, and
must make a sure thing of it.” ,~

“ It is no easy task, Arthur,” said Jack Scott. 1' v

“ You mustn t cull me Arthur, Jack, 01‘ Lynn. "
Last Chance is the name 1 am to be known by
hgr’e, and that of Arthur Lynn must notbo heard
0 .

“ It is a strange name, my boy.”

“ Yes, and it is a strange purpose that has
caused me to take it. In that pulposo I am set,
and mean to leave nothing undone that should r.
be done, toward carrying it into effect.”

“You may rel on me, my boy, to do every- '
thingr that I can 0 to help you.”

“ I can’t allow myself to call upon you, Jack.

I must play a lone hand in this game. You
have a. wife and a. child. For their sakes you
must not run any unnecessary risks. But you
may be able to give me some information.”

“ About Wiley Simmos? I don’t know any
man of that name.” ‘

“ Well, I have a clew. I believe that he is
alive, and that he is somewhere in this neighbor—
hood. It was at Captain Crozier’s that I found
the claw."

“ You have been at Captain Crozier‘s? And
only two days in the country? That is pretty
well. How did it happen, Arthur?” \

“ Call me Chance, Jack;' anything but Arthur
or Lynn. It hap ened that I was taken to Cap-
tain Crozior’s by is niece, a young lady named
Kate Crozier.”

“ You have seen Kate Crozier and she has
taken (you to her father‘s house? ’I‘hat beats me.
Well, hancy, you may as well give up your
game!” .

“ Why so?"

“ Because you will be sure to fall in love with ,
that girl, if you haven’t donexso already, and "
then you will have neither the time nor the heart
for following up that other business.” . ’ l I’ ,

“ That’s as it may be. It is certain that noth- .,
ing shall hinder me from pursuin my urposo. .
I asked the young lady about ile immes,
and she acted very strangely. She ed me v
not to have anything to do with him, ended-
mitted that ho had a bad reputation, though she ~
hoped—quite warmly—that he didn’t deserve it. ~
Then I caught sight of the record of amarriageg
in a Bible at the house, which leads me tobelieve
that Wiley Simmes married a sister of Captain
Crozier’s. Consequently, he ma be Miss Kate‘s
uncle, and that wouldaacoount or .her strange
conduct when I mentioned his name ” ‘ ‘
 Or. be other; Owen”

 

 

  
   
  
 
    
   
    
  
    
  
  
  
   
   

  
   
  
  
 

     
 
   
  
 

   
 

 

  
  

 

 

in v 5.4;”.

i

  
  
  
  
 

' bag;

The White Wolf. I

 

The young man started and turned pale.
“No, Jack!” he exclaimed. “ How can you
say that? Her name is Crozier, not Simmes. It
is impossible that she should be his daughter.
The same suspicion occurred to me fora moment,
but I thrust/it usidc immediately. Of course he
can’t be her futher.”

“ I hope not," replied Jack, with some feeling.
“ I nd’w think that I know who \Viley Sinnnes
is, and that I could put my hand on him with—
out much difficulty. I am sure that I know the
haunts of that girl’s uncle, or whoever he may
be. I ought to know something about this coun-
try, Chaney, as it was here that I began life.”

“LWere you born here, Jack? That is news to
me.

“ I didn‘t say that I was born here.”

“ What do you menu, then?"

.“ I will tell you, if you want to know. It
isn’t much of a story, though it is a. strange
one."

 

CHAPTER VI.
ADVENTURE AND DISCOVERY.

" I DIDN'T tell you that I was born here," Said
Jack Scott. by way of connuenving his story.
“ I said that it was here that I began life, and I
began it here as a grown man. I don’t know
where or when 1 was born, nor do I know any-
thing of the life I led before I began my life
here. I only know that I was picked up by a
Lipan Indian, one. morning, at the foot of a elilf
not far from here, and that I was as near dead
as a. man could be and miss it. I suppose it;
would hardly be stretching the truth to sa ‘ that
I was shot all to pieces. I have a num er of
scars on my body, and the worst, I think, is on
the side of my head, where a bullet grazed In
skull, and I suppom it cracked it. The shoe '
must have destroyed my memory, as I have not
the least idea, hOW I came by my hurts nor the
slightest remembrance of anything t lat had
happened to me previous to that time.

“ The Lipans took com )assion on me, and

. nursed me back to life. T ey were a long time

about it, no doubt, and their skill in the treat~
ment of wounds must have been great. They
all wondered how I lived through it, and I have
never ceased to wonder at that, myself, But I
did live, as you see, and grew well and strong
at last, though my hair was as white as it now
is, before I could stand on my feet.
r’ “ As it was impossible to recall the past, I
bothered myself no more about it than I could
help, and became reconciled to my new life. I
For. the name of J ack Scour—though I don’t
{now how I got it, and don’t suppose it belongs

to me—and made myself useful to the ipans.

’ Once I accompanied them on a. huntin excur.

sion, to the north of the Arkansas. ant fell in

i 3 with some white hunters, who )ersuuded me to
-, take a trip to the mountains.
’, I» met you.

t was there that
Since my return to Texas, the.
Lipans have been my good friends, and allies.
They have‘rendered me some Service, and I have

. done them many favors. Now you know,.

Chaney, why I say that my life began here.

But what is the matter with your horse, my
Did a snake cross the road?" ~<

, . Your horse is frightened, too. ‘There

{mist be something in the brush yonder,”

1

  
 

 

    

Both horses had stopped, and were snorting,
backing, trembling, and giving evidence of ex-
treme terror. 'Iheir riders spoke to them, but
could not quiet them. As Last Chance had said
there was surely something in the brush ahead
of them.

“Some sort of avurmint,” said Scott. “ I
see his eyes shine.”

The other looked in the direction pointed out,
and he, too saw a pair of glaring, fiery eyeballs
gleaming through the foliage, which hid the ,
face to which they belonged. 3;

Scott unslung his rifle, and his companion =
drew a pistol from his belt.

The horses snorted in their increased terror,
and hacked and plunged, as a. rustling was
hen rd in the brush, and a strange creature burst
out and stood before them.

At the first View, the creature might easily
have been mistaken for a wild beast; but it
walked on two legs, and wore the semblance of
a man. His long and tangled hair fell in masses
about his shoulders and over his wild and fiery
eyes. His face was covered with an abundance
of rough and matted board, which scarcely per-
mitted the countenance to be seen. I e. was
burehcaded, but was scantily clothed in rugged
skins, which seemed to have been tied about him
with strings. In one hand he curried a long: and
stout stick, and the fragment of a chain was
fastened to one ankle.

, “ W ho—what is this?” asked Arthur Lynn, as
he cocked his pistol, and leveled it at the udvuun
eing creature. ”, -

“ Don’t shoot,” re )lied Scott, “ It must be a
wild-man, though 1 five never heard of such a.
thing in these parts. He don’t mean any harm,

I hope, and we mustn’t hurt him.” ,

The creature stopped in front of the horses, - ..
which were only partially controlled by the
strong arms of their riders. He shaded his eyes
with his hand, and looked at them 'long and
senrchingly. Then he spoke, in harsh. metallic, .
unpleasant tones, which set his hearers’ nerves , i,
on edge, as the. filingr of a saw might have done. ' I

“ Wiley Simmes!” he said. “Wiley Simmes!

No! Not here! But I will find him] Yah-hal
ha! ha-a-a!” ‘

His voice continued to rise as he spoke, and he
ended with udemonish yell, which was prolong-
ed as he ran away, with long and rapid strides,
and disappeared in the broken and thickly~
timbered ground at the left of the truck.

The two horsemen restored their weapons to
thfiir places, and looked wonderineg at each
ot er.

“ Theatrical!" Enid Arthur L on.

“ ltbeats me,” said Scott. “ V "hoever or what-
ever the thing is, he is as wild as a panther, and
is raving crazy. Where can he have come
from?”

“He was lookin for Wiley Simmes. Didn‘t
you hear him? um didn’t you notice the clinin
on his leg, and the blood on his 19 and arms
and head? He is some poor devi whom that
wreteh has had a spite against, and whom he
has tortured until he has made a beast of him. .
He has been chained but has got loose. and only ,
Snow’s enough to hunt the man who has abused;

im. '

    
     
  

 
 

    
   

  

    
  
  
  
  
 

      
 

         
  
 

   

“ That may beso, I  afraid you are  ‘

   

  

12%

   

If I could catch the creature, and if. he had sense
enou h to tell What is the matter with him, I
won] know more about it.”

“ There is danger in allowing such an object
to wander about the country."

“True enough- and that makes me think of
my wife and baby. It is getting late, Chaney,
and you had better go home and pass the night
with me, and let me show you Ten and Eleven.

“ What do you mean by Ten and Eleven?”

“Ten, is my wife, Tennessee. As the boy is
one more, I sometimes call him Eleven. Ten has
heard me speak of you, and will be glad to see

 ' “But I ought to go back to Captain Crozierh.
\ ‘ ,T ‘ The will be expecting me there.”

‘ .  ,, “ on are a long way from Crozier’s. You
couldn’t reach his home until late at night, and
they will not be expecting you then. Mypluce

:  is only a mile or so from here, and it Wlll really
 , be better for you to take shelter with me."

" » “I. believe you are right, and 1 will accept
your offer.”

As the sun was, getting low, the two riders
gushed their horses, and went forward at a

risk pace. until they came in sight of a broad
and low farmhouse. with straggling outbuild—
_ ings about it, situated in a depression of the

, ‘ prairie, that might almost be called a valley.

’ The setting sun gave such pleasant tints to the
brown homestead and the green fields. and the
scene was, so quiet and peaceful, that Arthur
Lynn involuntarily primed to admire it. '

Almost too quiet and peaceful, Jack Scott
V; enamel to think, as he reined in his horse, and
w; « bent a scorching glance u on the scene before

‘ ' him, while his face was sha owved by an expres—

sion of anxiety and dread. '
“I don’t like the look of this, Chaney,” he
, said, seizing the arm of his friend with a con-
vulsive gripe.
“ What do you mean? It looks pleasant
enou h, I am'sure. 'What is the matter?”
“‘ othing, I hope; but 1 am afraid. It is too
\, >1“ still—strangely still. I hear nothing, and see

' nothing that moves. No cattle, no niggers, no

' noise. Theremayhave beona raid. I have en»

, emies enough. If anything has gonerwrong with
Tennis and the baby, I don‘t know how I shall
stand it.” *

They rode on; but the shadow deepened on
Cagtain Scott‘s face as be up reached his home,
, on still heard no noise, out still saw nothing
’move. He fairly trembled at the anticipation
of what he feared, and his com anion felt that
, he could say nothinv‘r to relieve is anxiety.

As they neared the house, a negro boy came
in sight, crawling out'from under a. wood-pile
and, runnin toward them. He was crying and
\’ wringing his hands, and his black face was blue

with grief and terror. '

“Day’s done gone, Marso Jack! Dey’s done
gonel’ he was saying, as he ran up to his master.
“ What is the matter, Tony?”

. “ Inil‘uns, Morse J ackl lnjunsl”
. “ W at has haPpened? Tell me all about it?”

From the boys distracted statements it was;

thered that “ abig crowd of Injuns had come.
d killed dc niggers, hadrrun of]? de cattle, Md

  
   
  
  
   
   
  

 

 
   
  
  
   
   
  
 
    
 

 
   
   
 
 
 
 

The White Wolf.

 

j one tree (19 house and had carried awa Miss
Tennis anode baby‘ei  ,_ \‘c « _ y 

  

 

 

..

Captain Scott turned (loudly pale. He reeled
in his saddle, and would have fallen if his friend
had not held him. When he recovered his com~
posure, he dismounted. »

“ Hitch these horses, Tony,” he said. “Come,
Chaney let us walk in and see for ourselves.”

The two white men entered the yard and the
house. They found two negro men and a woman,
dead and scalped. In tho house, such articles as
and not been carried away were broken up, ,-
thrown about, and left in the greatest confusion.
It was a dead-house to Jack Scott. Its life, its ’
soul, its heart, had been violently wrenched
away, and only the shell was left. He said noth-
ing, but went on into the room which had once
been his wiles, and where there was still much
to remind him of her. There he turned his face
to the wall, and covered it with his hands. Af—
ter a few moments he walked out, followed by
his friend. , ’

“ Now for business,” he said. “ I will soon
know who has done this, and they shall have
cause to wish that they had killed JaCk Scott
before they touched his family.”

He closely questioned the negro boy, and
learned that the marauders had come before
noon, that part of the Degrees Lad escaped to
the timber, and that Tony had consealed him—
self in the wood-pile, from which he did not dare,
to emerge until he saw his master apprbuch.

Then the ranger closely studied, as well as the
growing dusk would allow, all the tracks about
the place, both of horses and men.

“ It is just  I suspected,” he said. “ Glade
Oak and Left Hand have been here, with their
red and white robbers. Sam Peters with them.
He owes me a special grudge, and has struck a
hard blow this time. Chaney, I am with you,
now, in a hunt for lViley Simmes.”

“ What shall we do first?" asked Chance.

‘,‘ We must follow that trail. There will be a.
moon, and we can do it easy enough. Do you
stay here, Tony, until some of the people come
back. Then tell them to bury these bodies and
fix up things as well as they can.”

 

CHAPTER VII.
WHITE WOLF.

POOR Tennessee Scott! It was wonderful how .
bravely she bore herself, when her plantation "
was harried, when her servants were murdered,
and when she was dragged from her home, with
her babe in her arms. ‘

The worst of her trials came whenshe was,
approached, by a man who appeared to bean
Indian, but who spoke to her, tauntineg and
triumphantly, in her own/language. She then
knew him to be Sam Peters, nman whom her
husband, as a captain of rangers, had once 1'
doomed to death for his many crimes, but who
had escaped the noose that was knotted for him,
and had vowed to be revengednpon Captain -
Scott. This wretch quickly gave her to under» i
stand that she was in his power, and that he
would visit upon her the vengeance which he.
was unable to wreak upon her husband. ' "

Even then she bore herseltiproudly, and her
black eyes flashed defiance at the painted villainsl
as she rejoiced in the reflection that her ‘ 92
had. been from home, that he had 01;

  

 

  

   

 

 

  
 
      
  
  
  

  

The White Wolf.

 

 

 
 
 

» under their murderous hands, that he still lqud
for pursuit and for vengeance, if not for rescue.
It ivas for him she feared. in him her life was
bound up, and she know that he was safe. She
knew that the hardy burden-rs would rally to

3 his call, and that a fearful retribution would
overtake. those who had dared to outrage his

’ homestead.

She well know that resistance and rcmon—
strnnce wvrc alike useless, and that she. could
only passively submit to whatever she should
be compelled to do.

She mounted a. horse, therefore, as she was
ordered to do, with her babe in her arms, and
rode away toward the north, with the main
body of the maruudcrs. A smaller portion set
off in another direction, driving the cattle and
horses that had been collected from the plan-

: tation.

Night found her in the heart of the bills, at
the Camp of the red 9nd white outlaws, and
there was a discussion among them as to what
should he done with her. AS it was carried out
in a language that was unknown to her, she
could only guess at its meaning. Sum Peters
seemed to urge his claim vehemently, but was
hotly opposed by the Left Hand, who had de—
31 of his own upon the captive.

he_discussion was closed by placing the pris-

,.oner in charge of Glade Ouk, who was to have

,9, temporary control of her until the rival claims

'-‘ should be adjusted. He led her up a stccp and

dlflicult way, to a ledge in the side of the cliff,
where he told her that she might remain» unmo.
lested until morning. He then left her, and
placed two of his men as guards at the foot of
the way that led up the ledge.

Tennie looked about her when he had gone,
31nd carefully studied the situation. The. lodge
was narrow, being little more than a small open-
lng in the cliff, overhung by masses of rock.
.There was manifestly no way of egress, except
by the road by which she had come. As escape
was impossible, the had nothing todo but to
reconcile herself to the fact that she must re—
main there until morning. when her fate would
be decided.

The hours of the. right slipped away rapidly,
until it was nan time for the shades to begin to
lift. The moon had set, and the camp of the,
outlaws was shrouded in darkness. Tiney were

, Tull asleep, with the exception of the guards at
the head 01' the Miss and the sentries about the
:camp. On the and lodge luy Tennie Scott,
sleeping an uneasy sleep, With he) baby hugged
close to her heart.

Suddenly a form approached and strxxl over
her——the form of a strange, wild-looking crea—
ture, scantily clothed in shins, and wearing the

~ fragment of achuiu at one of his ankles. He

’ seemed to have come out of the solid rock in

front of which Tcnuie lay; but daylight would

have revealed the fact that he had rolled away

a. large stone, disclosing an opening through

which he had crawled. .
bent over the sleeping mother and her

b“, L

.mgt -..,

 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
 
  
  
   
 
 
  

 

 
 
 
  

V and examined them closely for a few

moments.~with the look of one who was accus-

 to darkness, and ,who could see at night,

{$131133 by'day. I ,

orq‘bgncfig  lower, and. wrapped the
' ' ' 5. l ‘ i

 

 

  
 

blanket closely about the mother's head and
arms. Almost by the same motion be seized
Tennis and lifted her, holding her so that it;
was impossible for her to move.

He stepped to the edge of the cliff and uttered
a fearful, demonish yell—a mingling of the howl
of a wild beast with the shriek of a bird of prey
—which cut the darkness of the valley, arouss
ing its echoes, and startling from their slumbers
the sleeping scouudrels below. In ,, i

“ The White Wolf l” they shouted, as they re— \
co izcd the horrid yell, and caught sight of that '
tal form.

The two guards who had been left at the foot
of the steep ascent begun to climb the rocks,
and half a dozen rifles cracked, aimed at the
White Wolf. ,- ~l

But he was out of the reach of bullets, and , ,
was already crawling, with his burden, through
the opening by which he had come. He paused
a moment, to replace the stone which he had
rolled away, and resumed his course, coming out
into the open air at a. place where frightful ra-
vines and rugged masses of rock seemed to op- ‘

me an impassable barrier to further progress. 
gut neither of these obstacles, nor the thick
darkness, nor the weight he carried, seemed to
impede the movements of the wild mountaineer, v
who descended into the ravines, and sprung '
from rock to rock, as sure—footed and almost as
swift as the mountain goat.

The burden in hisarms had been aroused from
herslumber when he took her up. Her first im—
pulse had been to scream, and her next had been
to attempt to escape. Neither of these impulses
had been productive of any result. Her voice ,
was so effectually smothered that she could not ,-
even move in the grasp of those long and power-
ful arms.

She shuddcrcd when the White Wolf uttered
that demoniin howl, and was sufficiently alive
to her situation to wonder what had hap nod
to her and what would become of her aby.
Then her senses forsook her, and she was borne ' l
on um‘csisting.

It was duyhght when she awoke, and she was
lying on a couch of cedar boughs on a ledge
similar to that from which she had been taken.
This ledge differed from the other, however, in
being backed by a roomy cave. and there up.
peered to be no possible approach to it from be—

ow.

Even before she was fairly awake, she in:
stinctively felt for her child, and found it at her
side. She touched it, shook it, until a faint cry
told that it was alive.

Satisfied on this point, she looked about to ex-
amine her surroundings. ‘ ' , '

At once her eye fell upon the horrid form of
the creature who had brought her there. He
was sented near her, with his knees drawn up,
and his mouth spread in what was doubtless in-
tended for a smile; but it only increased his 11 —
linvss. Still, there was something of a kind y ‘ '
light in his Wild eyes, and his intentions did not
appear to be immediame hostile. .

Temne could not repress a cry of terror and v
dismay. Was it a wild animal or a Hindu] '
that had her in his power. Almost surf
seetrfled to her, at that moment, to be prde ,
to is. * "  , _

    
        
     
     
    
    
     
       
      

     

     

/

   

  

  

 

vv r. 1.

The White Wolf.

 

\. ,1»

“ Merciful God l” sho muttered.
awake, or is this a hideous dream?”
i The monster spread his mouth wider yet, and
patted his hands upon his knees in a conciliatory

manner.

, "‘ Don’t be afraid," he said. “ I am mad, and
I know it; but I won’t harm you. I am crazy
when I see Wiley Simnies and his vultures; but
I know that you will be good to me, and I will
be good to you.”

“ Who are you? What are you?” gasped Ten-

  

 

“Am I

me.
“ I was Wiley Simmcs’s Vt'hito Wolf,” replied
the creature, mumbling his words, as if unac—
customed to the use of his vocal organs. “I
was his pet \Vhile \Volf, and he chained inc and
tortured me; but I am free now, and he shall
never chain me again. I will find him, and will
.niakc my teeth nieet in his throat, and will give
,, his flesh to the buzzards."

 The creature gunsth his tooth and foamed at
 ~. his mouth, until ’l‘ennie shuddered and feared to
‘* look at him. But the tugging of her baby at
the breast mercifully drew her thoughts into
another channel.

“ I will starve here,“ she muttered, “ and baby

will die.” .
4 . White Wiilf run to the end of the cave, and
.z’ brought to her an Indian basket, which he
' placed at her side. It was full of cooked meat
and corn-cakes, all cold, but fresh and savory.

This evidence of his kindness and good inten—
tions emboldened hor to speak to him.

“ Where did this come from?” she asked, look-
ing at ‘him in wonder.

“ Eat it. It is good, and Will give you life
and strength. I stole it from Wiley Simmes
and his vultures. - And this is not all I mean to
steal from him. I am crazy, but am wise
enough in some things, and I mean to steal his
1 heart’s blood. But .l will be good to you and
r ‘ ‘ your little tender lamb. Eat, andlwnl bring

i you water.” '

" “ - Tenuie ate until she was satisfied, and drank
water from a tin cup which White Wolf gave
her. Then she thanked him for what he had
brought. ,

“Can you get more when this is gone?” she
I i  asked.

' ’ ' “Plenty. I can steal all the meatand bread

they have. I stole you from them, when they
‘ ' meant to kill you, or to chain you up and tor—
ture you. Soon I will steal Wiley Simmes’s
heart. I wear his chain, so that I may remem—
ber him, but it hurts me to carry it. Seal”

Tennie looked at his ankle, and saw that it
was raw and bleeding where the iron had chafed
it. She even felt of the chain, and examined it
closely,’only to dmover that it could not be re'
' 'moved without tools. Then an idea struck her,

and she hastened to cut strips from a blanket,
, , l with a. scissors which she carried in her pocket.

‘ ', [She washed the wounds, bound them up with a.
' piece of her dress, and than wound the strips of
blanket about the chain, swathing and confining
it, so that it could not chafe his flesh or impede
his motion as it had previously done.
oltlooketl his gratitude, and tears foil from
is eyes. {Penuie then know that he was human,
hand that his heart was, right. no matter how his
,headmght haveybeenabusod. ‘ , I ' v ‘

 

 

 
   
  
  

   
  
  
  
   
   
   
   
 

  

  

   

  

u‘
,,,

White,

 

    

  

CHAPTER. VIII. _

‘ WILEY SIMMES HAS ms TROUfiLES.

GLADE OAK had taken no part in the discus-
Sion'between Left Hand am Sam Peters con-
cerning their claims to the possession of Tennes-
see Scott. The white chief surely had as much
right to the fair captive us either of the others;
but he nssertcd no claim, and seemed to be pre-
occupied by other thoughts. He had taken
charge of her, when she was left to him, and had
cared for her as well as he could. Then he laid
down to sleep with the others; but it was a long
time before his eyes were closed in slumber.

He was the first to be awoke by the dernonish
yell that startled the whole camp, and the first
to utter the cry of White VVoli" that followed it.

Looking up with the others, he saw the tall
form 01‘ the wild man, dimly against the cliff,
snatched up his rifle, and Sent a ball whizzing at
the creature whose yell had aroused him.

“ It’s no use,“ he muttered, as be perceived
that White 'Wolf had not been harmed by the
shots. “ Powder and lead Won’t touch him."

Then he sat down. to await the up roach of
the men who had hastened to ascend t 6 Cliff.

They came back after awhile, and broughtn
strange account. They had seen nothing. heard
nothing, found nothing. White W’olf was not
on the ledge, and the woman and her child had
disappeared. The guards at the foot of the cliff
were questioned, and were ready to swear that
nobody had passed them. The others were sure
that there was no chance to reach the ledge or
to leave it, except by the steep and difficult way
up which Tennie Scott had been taken. The
ail’air was shrouded in mystery, an'd none of
them could make any thing of it.

“ White Wolf is dead,” said Glade Oak. “ He
killed himself when he jumped from the cliff
yonder, and it is his ghost iliat has appeared to
us and carried ollt' the woman.”

Sam Peters n'nittcred something about a game
havingr been played upon him.

“ Do you mean to say that I have played a
garlic u .on you?" exclaimed Glade Oak as he ..
turned s arply and faced him. “ If you are to ‘
insinuate such a lie, I will make buzzard’s meat
of you in no time." “

Peters said nothing more, and the white chief
walked away, sullen, morose, and bent with
anxiety. r

In the course of the morning lré announced his
intention of going; to attend to the dis osal of
the cattle that had been prouurod on t e raid,
and prepared himself for that purpose. Wilsh—
ing the paint from his face and trimming his
hair altered his aspect considerably. When he
had arrayed himself in ahemespun coat, jeans
breechcs and a plaid vest, he presented the ap-
pearance of an honest farmer on a peaceful
errand, and could not easily be recogan as'
Glade Oak, the outlaw chief who was feared
and hated through all that portion of Texas. It
is true that he carried a rifle, but that was noth~ ,
ing unusual, and his two revolvers were con-
cealed under the skirts of his ample coat. 

In this guise he reached Cagtain' Crozier’s‘
plantation, and was recognhitd y Lee Cro'zier, "
who at once ushered him into aprivate many:
where his father was seated. . J ‘ ' . ‘ ‘

Captain ,Crozier turned pale and trembled-

. , ‘ iv, ) ‘ x

 

 
      
   

 
    
 

In“

the sight of his visitor. His timidity and con-
fusion were so great, that he did not rise to
greet him, but remained in his chair, downcast
and ill at ease.

The white chief did not allow this lack of
courtesy to bother him, but helped himself to a
chair, and motioned to Lee to withdraw.

“What’s the matter with you, Crozier'é" he
asked, roughly and sneeringly. “You look as
sneaking as a suck-egg dog, or as mean as a nig-
ger who has been caught stealing chickens. I
hopoyyou are not afraid of me.”

‘ on know well enough, Wiley, that I have
mason to dread your coming,” replied Captain
(Jrozuxr. _ “ I never see you but you want me to
and you in some of your lawless operations, or
to do something that may put my neck in a
noose." . .

"‘Bali! You are terribly afraid of that pre-
CIOUS neck of yours. I can’t see that it is in
any danger, except from your own folly and
cowardice. You know what I have been doing,
not only since you have been ac uainted with
me, but all my life, and I am not cad ye .”

“No; you are alive; but what a life it is! I
would not lead such a life as you lead for the
world?"

“ What sill talk that is, Crozierl You ought
robe ashame of it. Better live such a life as
mine. and get some profit out; of it, than keep
up such a miserable, sneaking existence as yours,
with so little to show for what on do.” ‘

“It is true that I have not ing to show for
my life,_tliat I am in a tangle from which I
can’t extricate myself, that you have made me
your, tool and your slave; but I have done
notlun for which the law could hold me ac-
counta ile; whilo you—the people in those parts
would never wait for the law if they should lay
their hands on you.”

“ They shall never lay their hands on me,
unless they touch my dead body. Living men
cant frighten me; but when the dead come

, after me, that gives me the blues.”
“ What do you mean b y that, Wiley?”
ever mind; there was something; but I
Won’t speak of it now. I have come on business,
and that must be attended to before anything
else. lVe have Just run oil? a big drove of cattle
and horses. Perhaps you have heard of it."

Cagtain Crozier groaned.

» ' “ . ou needn’t be scared. They were not your
cattle,

 

    
    
         
       
        
        
 
        
        
      
       
 
       

and the transaction is not going to hurt

you. I M men havehurried them off to Nunez,
, Who’m 1039 no time in running them into
Mexico. You Will soon receive a draft from

Nunez, drawn OIL-some Mexican banker, and I
want you to get it cashed, and to keep the pro.
I ceeds for me. Will you do it?”
v/ “I suppose I must; but I do wish, for Kate’s
. V sake, that I could get out of this business, and
that you would not trouble me any more. "
‘ ,, Wiley Simmes laughed, and his laugh was
' fone that made his brother-in—law shudder.
“ For Kate’s sake?" he asked. “ Why not for
1. e‘s sake?" ‘ » ‘
 .“F'or Lee’s sake, too, of course, though he
mighttake care of himself.”
“I think he «might,1find no thanks to you.
Kate’s sake,-aswe _ (as for Lee’s sake, you-
ck, to ins as long as you can.

 
 

 
 
 

, 01'

 

The White W015

 

v

15

Where would you have been, lon ago, if you
hadn’t had me to stand by you? wn in the
depths of bankruptcy, so deep that you would
never have been heard of. A little worse than
that you would have been. too, if I had not kept
a still tongue in my head.”

“ I don‘t see that I am much better off as it
is,” muttered Crhzier. “ All that I have be—
longs to you, and I can‘t move a step without
your crmission.”

“ on are alive, and that is somethin , and
that precious good name of yours, of whic you
are s ) tender, is saved to your family, of whom

011 are so proud. Of course I had to keep a
hold u )on you, and I don’t mean to let it go list
yet. ut won’t have to call u n you to elp
me in my business again. hen you have
cashed that draft, I won’t bother you inthat
line of business again.”

“ Thank God for that! I am afraid, Wiley,
that this last raid of yours is the worst thing
you could have done, for your own good. an
that it will bring you into trouble. Those were
Captain Scott’s cattle that on took, and you
know who and what he is. here was murder
done, I hear, and scalping, and Scott’s wife and
child were carried awa .”

“ I am not afraid of Captain Scott and all his
rangers ” re lied the white chief. “ If there
was nothing ut them to trouble me, I woud be
easy enough. But Left Hand and his Kiowas

    
  

 

are getting motions, and I will have a diiflculty _ ‘

with them yet. It was to please them and Sam
Peters that I made the raid on Scott’s planta—
tion. But that isn‘t all, Crozicr. I have other
reasons for believing that trouble is near me.”

“ What sort of trouble?” ‘

“ The White Wolf got loose the other night!”

Captain Crozicr seemed to be surprised, but
not at all frightened, at this intelligence. ’

“What of that?” he asked. “He must be
wild—perhaps an idiot, if not a madman. Why
should you be afraid of him?" .

“I am not afraid of any livin man. He is
dead. He jumped off a cliff w ile we were
chasing him, and that killed him, no doubt.”

“If he is dead, you‘are safe. What harm
can happen to you from him?”

“ When the deed come back, they
damage which we can’t guard against. His
ghost came to the camp last night, and carried
away Scott's Wife and child.”

“ His ghost! You needn’t accuse me of talk-
ing nonsense, Wiley. It was. the man himself.
He is alive, and on had better look after him.”

“I tell you t at no mortal man could have
got where he went to, or could have disappeared
as be (lid. It was his ghost, and that means
mischief to me. I wish you would et me some
whisky, Crozier. The thought of t busmess
makes me sick."

While Captain Crozier was gone for some
liquor, hisflbrotherdn-law paced the floor rest-
lessly. , \ ‘

CHAPTER IX.

A PLOT AGAINST KATE.

THE white chief drank a heavy
the whisky that Crozier brou ht him
“ I hope it will‘drive awayghe

 

.l‘

can do-

   

  

 

IIG

 

il‘he "White Wolf.

    

1

 

.‘l

‘4 I must confess that I have had a had attack
of them lately.” ,

,“ I have had some cause for uneasiness, too,”
said Crozier. “ There has been a young man
here—Y7 . '

“Yes,” interru ted the other; “Lee has told
me about him. he boy seemed to be unwilling

to leave him with Kate when I sent for him. Is
the young man here now?”
“ don’t know What has become of him: He

went to ride yesterday, and was to return; but
'he hasn’t come back, and I can see that Kate is
uneas .”

, “Is K,ate uneasy? Is that what makes you

uneasy ,
“ Not that alone. There is a look about him
that I don’t like—something that reminds me of
Frank Lynn, as he looked when he stopped at
my house”
‘What is the fellow’s name?”

“ He calls himself Last Chance.”

“ Does he pretend to say that is his real
name?”

“ He sticks to it that it is.” .

“ He lies. No white man on earth was ever
baptized with such a ridiculous name. Can
there be another who, has come to seek me? Yes;
there was a baby, and he must be a man grown
now. If it is another of the Lynns, he had bet—
ter not cross my path, as I will be sure to make
an end of that hated race. But I am sick and
tired of blood, Crozier. I am getting too old
for that. Hand me the whisky.”

The white chief poured down another strong
draught of the fiery liquor. ,

“There is cause for uneasiness, Crozier, as you
say," he resumed. “and it is no wonder that I
have had the blues lately. There are several
chances against me just now, and any one of
them ma. make an end or me. It is because I

\ feel that ma turn up missing some day, that
I want to sett e that marriage bet ween Lee and

a .
h Cgptain Crozier shuddered and hung down his
ea

“ You are not going to kick against it, I
hope.” said Simmes. /

‘ b, no; I am not going to make any objec-
tion, or to put any hindrance in the way of the
marriage. I was thinking of what Kate’s feel-
ings might be."

“You needn’t saya word about it. I know
what they are, better than you could tell me. I
know that she don’t care for Lee, except as a
cousin. Perhaps she may even dislike him. But
that mustn’t interfere with the business. Love
will come along after marriage, and they will
both bless us for having brought them together.
I have a right to manage my child, I am sure, as
I think best.”

“ Do you suppoSe that Lee will object to the
match?" asked Captain Crozier, his face bright-
enin as he looked up.

“ e object to it? Not be. You needn’t think
that that Will at a stop to it. He has set his
heart on the ‘ r1. and means to have her. and I
mean. that he‘shall. It is Kate who must be
made to listen to reason, and I knowhow to
attend to her case.”

~ “Do you meanwtorce the girl into a mar-'

1 ,

 

  

“ I will tell you exactl what I do mean,” an-
swered Simmes as he he ped himself to a glass
of whisky. “I mean that you shall, have busi-
ness away from this plantation, which will keep
you absent for a day or two. While you are ‘ ‘
away I will come here in disguise, and will pick
Kate up and carry her 011’. \Vhen I get her into
the hills, I shall manage the business to suit my-
self; but you may be sure that they will be well
married. You understand me now. To—mor-
row morning you are to leave. There is nothing
more to be said about it. When the draft comes j
from Nunez, and when you have cashed it, you ‘
must remember that you are to keep the pro-
Ceods for me. That is all, and I am off.” )

Leaving Captain Crozier seated in his chair,
with his head hung down, and his countenance
expressive of intense inward pain, the White
chief walked out of the room and out of the
house.

As he was about to mount his horse, Kate
Crozier came running to him, not with joyful
alacrity, but with the air of one who has an im—
pleasant or difficult task to perform, and means
to perform it.

Wiley Simmcs looked surprised as he saw her,
and chucked her under the chin, not very affec— i
tionately, but with a pleasant smile.

“ W'hy, my beauty, this is something like l” he
said. “ I can’t remember when you have runto
see me in this way. Are you glad to meet me, ,
or glad to see me go?"

Kate jumped into the middle of her business
at once, like one who has to take a cold bath,
and who means to plunge in and be over with it.

“I want to ask you a question,” she replied.
“ Have you seen a young gentleman, a stranger
in these parts, named Last Chance?" .

“ Last Chance? Last Chance? Do you really
mean to say that there is any person living who
has the right to wear such a ridiculous name?”

“ Will you please answer my question, sir?
Have you seen any young gentleman who called
himself by that name?” ,

“ It is the same young fellow you brought
home from Redwood, whose horse won arac'e
there the other day l’ '

“ Yes, sir. He said that his business in this
country might require him to see you, and was
asking where you were to be found. He went
away from here yesterday, and has not return-
ed. I thought you might nave met him.”

“ I haven‘t met him, and perhaps it is as well
for him that I shouldn’t meet him. As for you,
Katie, you had better not bother your brains
about him or any other Last Chance or Lost
Chances. Your fortune is made, and you can
see all you ought to see right here, at home.
Mind that, my girl!" . ‘

’The white chief mounted his horse and rode
away” without any further adieux. At a little.
distance he was joined by Lee Crozier, who
went with him. , ‘ ,

These two had been gone but ashort time,
traveling toward the north, when two more ,
hnfsemen came in sight from the south, and ‘
Kate Crozier who was sadly meditating upon '
the last wor s of Wiley .Simmes; clapmd‘her -
hands in glee as she {ecognimi Last Chalice
His: companion was Captain: Scott. , » - g;
/ ,I‘he young gentleman. stopped at» theyg‘ag

 

  
   
 
 
  
 

 

 
    
  
    
   
  
  
  
   

  
    

    

  

   

  

  

The. White Wolf.

    
 

it

 

  
 

but Scott went to the house and direct to Cap
tain Crozier’s room. His face was pale, his lips
were compressed, and his whole appearance was
expressive or stem determination.
, Captain Ci‘ozier, who was in a stupor when
this visitor entered his room, looked up in sur—
prise, anxious to know what was meant by the
set purpose in his face.

“ believe you .know who and what I am,”

. said the ran er, in reply to Captain Crozier’s
greeting: “ y name is Jack Scott, and I have
no time to waste in useless talk. My plantation
has been robbed, my cattle have been run off,
my house has been plundered, my negroes have
been lulled and scalped, and my wife and child
have been carried away, by a band of thieving
and murderlug Indians and white men who are
worse than Indians.”

“I had heard of that; it is very sad,” mutter-
ed Captain Crozier.

“The leader of that band is a white Indian,
who is known among his red scalpers b the
name of- Glade Oak. His real name is iley
Simmes, and he is your brother-inelaw.”

. “This is very shocking,” said Crozier, in great
i confusion. “ It is true that I have a brother.-
ln-laW named Wiley Simmes; but it is hard to
believe that he would be guilty of such a crime.

Age you sure that you are justified in charging

him With it?"

t “ I know that I am, and you know it, too. It

is useless to mince matters or to pick words.

You know that Wiley Simmes is a robber and a

murderer. The ple are aroused, and itvis de-
creed that he shall die, and that his band shall
be Wi _. out. I don’t expect to see my wife
and c 11d again. If I should find her she will
be dead or worse; but those who committed this
outrage shall be Ieartully punished. All the
people Will turn out, and every man who is not

“ or us is against us. I have come to tell you

ibis, sfwthat you may know your place and
so 1 .
Captain Crozier trembled and writhed, while

'a hVid hue qverspread his countenance, and his

eyes looked in every direction except at the man
before him.
“ Do you want me to turn out? I am an old

2 , man.”

‘ “ We don’t expect you to turn out,” replied

Scott. “ As ,you say, you are an old manybut
on have a son, and we shall count upon him.

~ twdl be well for him if he joins us soon. If he
does not, he must ex iect to be treated as an
enemY- AS for you, aptain/Crozier, you are
more than suspected of having aided Glade Oak
in his operations, and you had better be careful
how you conduct yourself." '
Captain Crozier arose, and drew. himself up

I with considerable dignity. ' i

' . “ Do you know who you are speaking to, and

whose house you are in?" he aske< .

f‘ I know it well, and I know that I am

I s _ king the truth. It is necessary to speak

‘ ahead I mean to speak plainly. I say that

' , bette

W

 

 

 

 
 
  
  
  
   
 
 
   

r befcareful ow you conduct

oral) of his men. you will be treat!
.001!) ' In this last crime, and will
You know

 

continued the oung gentleman.

 you are again guilty of harboring

my words good. That is all I 'haveto say about
it.”

The ranger turned and walked away, leaving
Captain Crozier a. prey to conflicting feelings
that nearly drove him frantic.

Last Chance, in the mean time had been im-
proving the shining moments with Kate Crozier,
at the gate. She did not attem t to conceal her
joy at seeing in), and asked iim wh he had
stayed away. He told her that he ad met
Captain Scott, who was an old acquaintance and V .
friend, and that the hours had slipped away so ‘
rapidly while they were conversin of old times,
that he did not think of returning the Crczier
mansion until it was too late to do so. He had
then accepted his friend’s invitation to ass tho ,
night with him, and had accompani him to 7,
his house. The young gentleman related what
he had seen there, and brought tears to Kate
Crozier’s eyes when he described the agony of
his friend.

“ The leader of that band of savage wretches,”
he said, “is what is called a white Indian. and
he turns out to be no other than that same Wiley
Simmes, about whom I was asking you some
questions.” V

Kate Crozier cast down her eyes, and trembled
so that she was obliged to support herself against
the fence.

“ Captain Scott is in an awful state of mind,"
‘ “He isbent on
revenge, and as called out the rangers. The
esople are aromsed, and mean to make an end of

iley Siinmes and his gang."

“But you—what interest have you in the
matter?” asked Kate, Without looking up. ,

“ I shall help in friend, of course. \ ‘

“I wish I co ‘d say something to persuade ‘
you to keep out of that busmess. _'Wh should
you peril your life in an enterprise 1: at is to

ring you no benefit? I have already warned.
§ou against having any thing to do with Wiley
immes.” ;.
He is

 
  
 
 
 
 
  
   
   
  
 
 
 
    
   
 
 
    
 
   
   
  
  
  
    
    
 
 
   
    
   
  
    
       
   
 
  

“ I don’t believe that he can harm me.
nothing to you, I hope."

“ Nothing to me? Oh, no. Of course not.
But—I do wish I could See you once again, be—
fore you go on that expedition.”

Captain Scott came out of the house just then,
and the remainder of the conversation between
the two was limited to a few words; but it re-
sulted in an agreement for a meeting the next

day.

CHAPTER X. \
LOVE RUNS ROUGHLY.

CAPTAIN JACK Scorr’s rallyingIcry brought
the rangers to the front rzipidly. t was a long
time since they had had a y important work to
do, and they had virtually disbandedg‘but they
lovad their leader. and came to his call with
alacrity, ready and anxious for action. I e

The rendezvous of the outlaws was Well a
known, and Jack Scott had tracked the raiding

)arty to their stronghold in the hills. It was
imbwn thattheir numbers were formidable, and“ ‘ ~«
that their «position was one which ,could easily ,
be defend . against a large force. Under these .
circumstances, the efforts to reduce them to“

   
       

     
 

  

  

       
    
 
 
    
  
     
   
  
  
  

  

    
    
 
  

 
 

   

  
  

 
  
  
  

 

tree.
 habit

_ y ‘

 

olmaking.

 

   
 

submission would assume the character
- _’ ., ’ ‘ / y > ,

The White Wolf.

 

    

war, ' requiring organization, preparation, and

all the arrangements of a campaign.

All these matters were discussed by the men
as they came in to the rendezvous at Captain
Scott’s homestead, and it was settled that the
ex ledition must have sulficicnt strength to en—
~1 able them to besicge the outlaws in their strong-

hold. For this purpose, runners were sent out

. to bring in all the fighting men of the district,

9 leaders were chosen, and provisions and animu-

nition were made ready. A strong party was
sent on the trail of the stolen. cattle, to capture
them before they could be got out of the way,
and the remainder made preparations for camp—
in: in the hills. ‘

Last Chance took advantage of the delay
caused by these yrcparations, to keep his up—

' _ pointment with Imto Crozicr. ,

. He mounted his fleet mare, rode. toward Cm)‘

v. tain Crozier’s place, and Incl; the object of his

Search at the dlstance of a mile from the plan-

tntion.

Kate was glad to see him, and did not scruple
to let him know how glad she was. But there
J was anxiety mingled with her joy—fear for his

' safety, and distrust of what his opinion of her

, might be, if he should know who she was.

, The young entleman came near to driving
all these thong its out of her head, by the man—
ner in which he met her, and by his evident dc—

‘ light at seeing her. His tones and glances were

‘ those of a lover, although his words were quite

' commonplace, the ordinary greeting of a casual
ac uaintance.

‘ You seem to be strangely troubled to-day,”

‘7 he said, as their horses sauntered along, side by

‘ side. “ Has anything happened to displease
. you? If I could chase away that shadow, noth-
in" would make me happier." I
ate looked up at him quite timidly, all her
sauciness and self-reliance gone.

' w “ You might chase it away,” she answered,
“ if you Would promise not to join that expe-
dition of which you were speaking when we last

- ' met.‘ I '

' “ I want to please you, but there are special

' considerations which drive me into that. I
Surely ought to help mgr friend when he is in
’ . such trouble and it woul be cowardly in me to

'. _ hold back when all the country is rising.”

“ r “ If all the country is rising, there will Le

enough without you. You are not one of our

citizens, and have nothing to do with our ail‘ai'rs.

Why should you risk your life, or bring yourself

into trouble?”

“ Can you give me no better reason than my
personal convenience or safety?”

‘ How can 1‘! If 1 should tell you what inter—

' est I have in. the iiiiitwi',y0i1 would despise me.”

“ Despise you? That would be impossible.
W'hatever others may have done, I am sure that
there is no wrong in your heart.”

“ If you knew who I am, you would hate me.”

“ How oeuld I hate you, when l——l must say
it—I love you?" -

Kate Cro 'er trembled in her seat, so that she
' seemed like y to fall; but a strong arm was
around her in an instant, upholding and sup-
‘ #33; her, and ,she rested upon it'as if it be-
“ % I to her. I , ~ ‘

   

   

 

  
   
   
  
 

 

“With all my heart, I wish that it might  1

please you,” he replied. v 1.
“Perhaps you think that you love me, just  1

now; but you know so little about me, and you ‘,i.
have not learned who 1 am. And yet, I Wish
that it might be true.” . 1

The strong arms tightened around her, and a a _‘
pair of bright eyes looked love into hers. The =
beautiful mare and spotted mustang acted as if
they understood it and kept step as they walked
slowly and closely together. ~ ,

“It is true,” he said. “Whatever else may ‘
be uncertain in this world, that is sure. I do
know who you are. Kate. I know that Wile
Simnxcs married Ella Crozier, I saw it recon -
ed in a Bible at Captain Crozior’s house, and I
suppose that he is your uncle." .

“Oh, no 1” sobhcd Kate. as she dropped her
bridle and covered her face with her hands.

“ He is my father!”

The shock was a severe one to Arthur Lynn. -‘
He had feared this, but had scouted the supposi— .
tion and was not prepared tofind it true. ‘His - ‘
arm dropped from her side, but it again encir— ‘
clcd her the next moment, and he drew her ‘ 
closer to him. ' ,

“Vi/ell, and what of it?“ he said. “I Own ‘
that I hate l.im, and I have reason to hate him;
but I love you. Whatever his faults may be,
you are not responsible for any of them, and
they are not reproduced in you. I am sorry
that you are not the (laughter of a better man; I
but I am sure that no better man had so sweet a
daughter. Look up, Kate, dear Kate, and tell »
me that you love me.”

“ How can 1?" she murmured. “ I must
leave you, and you must forget me. Our paths
are so far apart that they can never come to-
gether. Why do you hate my father? But I
need not ask that. Every one hates him. Every
one must hate him."

, “ Every onehas not the cause that I have to
hate and pursue him. But I can’t tell you what .
my reasons are. Is it not enough that I lov‘e '
you? It is not your fault that you are his.
daughter, and I doubt if you love him as a child
might love its father. How is it that you art
known as Kate Crozier, while his name is
Simmcs?” '

“ He gave me in charge of my uncle when I
was an infant. This was just after myvmether's
death, and it was not until then that my uncle -
knew whata wild and wicked life he led. He
wanted to separate me from that life, and for
that much at least I ought to thank him. My
uncle Robert brought me up, and I have always
borne the name of Crozier. I believe that 11
one knows, outside of our own family, that I,
have not a right to that name, whatever people
may'suspect.’

“No one need know it new. If:
change your name to mine, you W1] have a \
name that will belong to‘you, and that you cah’t  4
be robbed of." - :' .’

“You mustn’t speak of that. ,I can haven!)
such hope. I am Wiley Simmes’s daughters:
and the is what I must remain. It was .h
until l~wus grown that I was told who
and since that. I have been 

M.

 

      
 

 

      
     
 
  

    
      
  
 

     
      
 
   

 
  
      
   
  

  

     

you will,

        
  
          
 
 

 

    
   
     

 

 

have been gwennm understand
mar my WmLeeCl‘ozler

   

   
 

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piper rm- r,

not genuine aborigines.

 

 
  
 
 

  

   
 

that that must be my fate, though I dislike him
more and more every day. My father insists upon

, it, and means to carry his purpose into effect.”

7 “ Do you want to make me hate him more
than I hate him already? Do you mean to say
that he intends to force you into marriage with
a man you dislike? He can’t do it, Kate. Unless
you are willing to marry your cousinyyou can
never be made to marry him. No man has the
right. to make his (laughter miserable for life—‘—
esperzially such a man as Wiley Simnies, who has
forfeited every fight he ever possessed in this
world.”

Thepath which the two were then following——
'or' which their horses had taken of their own
will and pleasure—led through a piece of timber,
Where the trees stood thickly on each side of the
way. Tilell‘ overarching heughs made a grate-
ful shade and gave the lovers a sense of seclusion

- which a pleasanter frame of mind would have

made very grateful to them.

'He shall never marry you to that man i” ex—
claimed Arthur Lynn, with the tone of one who
Sottles a qurstion by authority. “ He has no
right over you whatever. I don’t believe, Kate,
that you are really the daughter of Wiley
Simmes.”

A cry of rage came from the side of the path.
and three men rushed out of the thicket, two of

‘ 3 Whom'violently seized upon Arthur Lynn, and
the third snatched the bridle of Kate Crozier’s

horse. In an instant the young gentleman was
dragged from his mare, and his hands were tied
behmd his back.
CHAPTER XI.
SIIEARING THE WOLF.

WHEN Arthur Lynn was able to look about
and take note of his assailants, he perceived that
they were Indians, or white men in the guise of
Indiana He had had some ex rience among
thev'red-men ot the plains, and here were indi—
cations which led him to suspect that these were

his suspicion was

confirmed ‘when he heard the voice of their

leader, who was a tall and stalwart man, with
gray hair. '

_Thls personage was in a state of violent ex—

cxtement. He stepped up to the young gentler
' man, and angrily shook his fist in his face.
, _ And are you the one who wants to persuade
. this girl that she islnot the daughter of Wiley
Simmosi” he said. “ Here is her father, to s k

for himself, and to tell you that you lie. am

Wiley Simmes; how do you like my looks .3”
' Arthur made no ansWer. He had been look-
mg at Kate Clzozxer, who sat motionless upon
her horse at‘a llttle distance. Now he faced the
leadei' ofhhilsl assizilants. and bent upon him a
gaze, nw ic coo contempt stru led withi —
hatried. gg n
ave no right over my daughter?" resum-
ed the white chief. “ Shall I never marr her

‘ "to-amino! m choice? Perhaps you wil pre-

’I_lt it. "You 00k like it! I have a right over
at new. and I will make you feel it. I
whge’you will never care whether

'gehfitleman continued silent, and

t: at his antagonistcnly by}

  

 

will do ever
will him

  

The White Wolf. 19

“ You call yourself Last Chance, do you?
What a fool you wore to bring such a name into
this Country! I will christon you again, and ‘
will change Last Chance to a Lost Chance.”

The white chief had perpetrated this poor
piece of Wit on a previous ow asion, and it may
be believed that he was prowl of it.

“ Don’t you suppose that I know who you me?
Look me in the face if you darcl Yes; your
eyes are like those of the others, and your forc-

’ head and nose and chin are like those Lyons. I

knew it, as soon as you came into the country,
before I had seen you, and now I am sure of it.-
I can’t be fooled in one of those Lynns. You
are the baby are you? You were uni inl‘uz t at
your mother 5 breast, the night I shot down
your father, when I made an end of Judge
Lynn. YeS' I own that I shot him. I never
denial it. I swore that I would be revenged
upon him, and I kept my oath. And you the
baby, have come down here to hunt W'iley
Simmes? You have come to follow your two
brothers, and you shall follow them. They are
dead, and you shall be in the same fix in a few
minutes. Hui do you wince at that?”

The young gentleman had not winced; but a
flush of indignation had overspread his counte-
nance at the moment,and he had shuddeer as he
thought of the fate of his father and brothers.

h‘f liring me a lariat, Abram,” said the white
0 1e . , ,

A rope of twisted hide was brought to him
and he dextrously knotted a slip—noose in an on
of it. In obedience to his further directions, the
captive's horse, which had been sto )ped by one
of the men, was brought down the ath, and
Arthur Lynn was placed upon her hnc . As he
was mounted Wiley Simmer. threw the noose
over his neck. Three other other horses, which
had been, concealed in the timber, were also
brought out into the path, ready for their riders
to mount.

“ I will glve you a chance," said Wiley ‘
Simmes, as he drew the noose close to his cap~
tive’s neck. “ If you will say that you are not
one of those cursed Lynns, I will give you a
chance to prove your words true. Come, now.
What do you say. Isn’t your life worth a lie,
or do you mean to die game. like the rest of
them? He won’t speak, Abram, hand the rope
up over that limb.”

As the while chief handed the .end of the lariat
to one of his men, the {weedings were inter-
rupted by a shriek from Iute. I

“ For God’s sake, don’t do that!” she exclaim-
ed. “ If you care for me, father, don’t murder
him 2”

“ Who wants to murder him?” harshly replied
Simmes. “ I only mean to tie him up, to cop
him out of mischief.”

“ You mean to han him there. I’Vhat has he
ever done to you. tha you should kill him?”

“ If Ilsee a rattlesnake in the path, coiled up
and ready to strike, shall I kill bun, or wait un-
til he has struck his fangs into me? I would he
a fool if I shouldn’t kill him for the harm he
means to do.” _ ‘ .

“Grant me one favor,” piteously entreated
Kate. “and I will never ask another of you} I
lung you Wish me to do, it you ’
lat Y5.) ‘ ‘ 4 A; "

 
 

 

      

 

     
      
      
 

20 The White Wolf.

“ If he should kill me and marry you, I sup-
pose you would be satisfied; but I mean to make
sure that he shall do neither of those things.
Haul in on the lariat, Abram, and make it fast
to the tree," v

Kata endeavored to throw herself from her
horse, but was restrained by the man who held
her bridle. By the direction of the white chief.
she was then bound fast to the saddle, in a hall'-
fuintiug condition, and her horse wns led to a
position from which she was unable to see what
was going on.

The lariat was thrown over the liuihof the
tree, drawn (-lose, and securely fastened to the
trunk. The white (chief and one. of his men
mounted their horses, and stationed themselves
near Kate, ready to iido away when the tragedy
should he ended. The third man held the bridle
of the beautiful brown mare, waiting for the
word to lead her away.

Arthur Lynn, seated on her back, full: the
noose tightening around his neck, and know
that there was no hope of escape; but he was
silent and doliant. This was to he theI end of
his hopes, the ruin of his scheme of vengeance.

H.) gave n. last look to the declinng sun, a
last look to Kate, whom he could scarcely see,
and involuntarily closed his eyes, as W'iley
Siunn 's gave the word for the drop scene to fall
on his dranu of life.

The word was closer followed by the (truck of
a rifle, and of a yell like the howl ot' a. wild
beast.

The man {it the mare’s head spun around and
fell, with a bullet in his brain, and the frighten-
eJ animal sprung forward.

By a frantic ell‘ort Arthur burst; the bonds
that confined his arms, and threw up his hands
to grasp the rope over his head. In his strug-
gles to secure his own safety, he saw but little of
the scene that followed.

Out of the forest rushed a creature all hair
and skins. A smoking rille was in his hand,
and one hideous yell after another pealed from
his throat as he run down the path.

“’l‘heW‘uite W olfl” shouted the man who was
stationed with Siminz-s, und‘ho stayed not upon
the order of his going, but put spurs to his
horse, and was out of sight in an instant.

Wiley Simmes uttered a cry of horror and

dismwy, and made no pause to examine the in-'

truder or to (J)DOS’.) his intentions He seized
the bridle of ato’s horse, and gallopod away
like mad. ‘

White Wolf stopped at the body of the false
Indian whom he had slain, and turned it over as
a wild animal might do.

“Wiley Simines?" he muttered. “Wiley
Simmesl No; he is off. There he goes!
Whoopl I will find him yet!”

He too rushed away, leaving Arthur Lynn
struggling in the air. __

CHAPTER XII.
LEI) INTO A TRAP.
WHEN the horse darted out from under him.
Arthur had succeeded in grasping, the lariat
with his left hand, and then seimd it with the

' right. His neck was thus relieved of the strain,

and he was able to think and act. Redraw him-

, _  up, hadeVec hand, until he seated himself

 

 

    
 

 

e

on the stout branch of the tree, where he re- 1'0
moved the noose, and looked about to see wha 0d
had happened. 5“

He first noticed the false Indian 1 ing dead on N
the ground, and then saw White olf running W_
frantically down the path, yelling as he went. 1“
He also caught a glimpse of the frightened
riders, as they disappeared in the forest, and ‘70
heard the rapid hoof-beats of their horses. In “5
a few minutes there were no more sights or 0‘
smuulsof life. ‘

Then he dropped down from the tree, and d‘
untied the lariut that was fastened at the B
trunk.

“ I shall keep this,” he said, shuddering as he “
looked at it. '

The brown more had been frightened into
startng oil? with the other loose horse; but she fl
was soon aware that her nmster was not on her 5]
back and had sense enough to know that therq 1‘
was something wrong. She came walking to-
ward him, and trotted up gayly when he whis- 1‘
tled to her. “

Arthur picked up his rifle, which had been
thrown on the ground when he was captured, 1'
coiled the lnriat and hung it on his saddle-bow,
and mounted the mare. 1‘

When he was on her back he felt like him- V
self again, and reflected upon what had 00-. '5
curred. . t

It was evident that White Wolf had fired the
shot which killed the false Indian andthat he
had frightened away the others. Wiley Simmes !
had taken his daughter with him in his fli ht,
no doubt. She had been bound to hersa dle. ,
and could not resist, and was helplessly led '
a

..._.&-.‘...-H

an.

Why should not Arthur follow, and rescue
her from the parent whohvas unfit to have con—
trolsef her? He was hut one man, and there
were still two of his enemies; but he was well
armed, and the odds did not daunt him.

He put spurs to his mare, confident of his
ability to overtake the fugitives if he could keep
them in sight. ’

He no longer heard the hoof-beats of theirs ‘
horses; but the trucks were plain in the £0 =: -
path, and down the path he galloped at the:
brown mare‘s best gait. , I I

When he had traveled at this headlong speed '
until he thought that he ouwht to be near enough .‘
to the fugitives to hear them, he paused andfi '
listened; but he heard nothing. Examining théf ‘
path, and finding no tracks there, the‘conviction
was forced upon him that they had taken a ‘
other direction, and that he, in ms furious ha "
had passed the place where they had turned aw
without noticing it. ' ’
There was nothing for it but to go back and

 

 

 

    

Search for the trail, and this was a task whiéK’f A
required time and patience. When he,  ‘
found the trail, it was difficult to keepi as it 
led through the forest, and he became pa fully '

aware of the fact that his pursuit was likely r-
be unsuccessful. ' u : . '

After n while he came out of the timber, v u
found himself on an elevation from which
could see a long distance over tlig rolling pm
Toward the west rose the hi1 , lofty,~m
dark and forbidding. Between hiya
bills were the persons whose mu b9

 

  

    
 

  
 
  

r 7, "07 'v

   

/

  

3-“.- a

The White Wolf.

21

 

  

a re- gf’ollowin . They were so far away that he

 

what could o y see three moving specks; but he was
_sure that there were three specks, and couldnot
don i doubt who they were. He saw nothing of the
nlng wild man nor had he seen him since he began
’eut. his pursuit.
cued Arthur did not suppose that he would be able
and to overtake Wiley Simmes and his party before
In they could reach the hills. That seemed to he
.s or out of the question. Fleet as the brown m‘are
was, she could not gain on them sufficiently to
and destroy the advantage of the start they had.
the But he could at least follow them, and could
, make sure of the route they took, so that he
s he - :inight seek them out when he should be able to
0 so.
into So he spoke to the brown mare, and she fairly
she flew over the prairie turf, entering into the
her spirit of the chase as if in full sympathy with
more her master.
‘ to- She kept up this rate of speed, while the hills
his- loomed up larger and more lofty, until Arthur
was near enough to the objects of his pursuit to
een . distinguish their shapes and to know that the
WI, 3 riders were two men and one woman.
DW, They had been moving toward the hills quite

leisurely for some time. as if feeling that they
- were safe from pursuit; but soon their horses
r began to 211101;, as if they had become aware of

l the fact t at t ey were followed.
: Arthur Lynn let his mare go, at an increased
» rate of speed. and gradually gained on the party
nos he was pursuing. But they were sure to gain
‘ht, (the hills, and to be lost in the recesses, before be
He pouch possibly oveitake them. Never mind:
’ed he would follow the trail, and would track
them to their hiding—place, let the result be what

i it might.

l He was still on the plain when he lost sight of
. them in the timber at the foot of the hills; but
’ he noted the place where they left the prairie,
and was sure that he could not miss it. He

his r; knew it when he reached it, and knew that he
ep i had seen it before. There was a plain trail
_ " throu h‘ the timber, which led u , through a
air 2 dificu tpass, to the stronghold 0 Glade Oak
Bat .. and Left Hand and their followers. It was the.

, same trail which Arthur had followed with
' Jack Scott, when they tracked the marauders

5d 1. who had carried away the ranger’s wife and
{h ‘1' child. ‘

1d , \ The young gentleman hold a debate with him-
he . self as he entered the timber, but without paus—
>n   ing, as to the propriety of continuing the pur~
a- ’ unit. It was not likely that he could accom—

V finish anything, and night was coming on. But
~ there would he a moon, and the night would be
i, fiprotection to him, rather than a hindrance.
‘ e concluded that he would go on some distance
,' further, and would then conceal his horse and
~ continue his search on foot, or would return, as
circumstancw might suggest.
v. He went on, and the dusk grow denser, and
’ the ss was more narrow and difficult. Sud-
.en y he was brought to a halt by a hail, fol-
. . ed by a harsh, sarcastic laugh.
, ' Vking u , he saw a face peering over a cliff,
'i . a few yards In advance of him and to the right.
_By thq'lightof the rising moon he recognimd
the painted‘faee as that of his would-be mur-
_,deter o: the forest, ét'Wiley simmeS.

 

 
  

’ ""5" 9‘< FIRES:-

  

 

“It is you, is it?” said the outlaw, with a
hideous grin. “ I didn’t think you would get
out of that scrape I left you 1n. As your luck
is so good, it won’t be worth while for me to
try that game again. Just give up, now, with-
out any fuss, and we will go easy will) you.
Throw down your weapons, and your life shall
be spared.”

Instead of acceiting this invitation, Arthur
turned his horse’s end, in an attempt to csrapo
from the pass.

Ashe did so, there was an almost simultane-
ous report of two rifles, and he know that their
leadou contents had lodged in the hcad of his
horse.

It was a pitiful time for the beautiful brown
mare—a sad moment for her uhpn he had (le-
tcrmincd to cuter the pass and follow that trail.
He jumped to the ground as she sunk under him,
and for a moment his thoughts were divcrted
from his own position by sorrow for her as he
saw her quivering in the agonios of (loath.

Then he started to run down the pass to get
out of the way of more shots; but a shrill whis-
tle sounded at the rear, and he was confronted
by several mcnv—Indians, apparently— who arose
from behind the rocks at each side of tho way.
As he paused and raised his rifle, they instantly
sunk back into their places of concealment.

Amonient’s icflcction told him that a trap
had been set for him; that those Indians might
have waylaid and killed him as he wont up, if
they had chosen to do so.

It was plain that they had determined to take
him alive. He was equally determined that he
would not be taken alive. '

As the men in front of him seemed to be in no
hurry to show themselves again he had begun
to walk slowly down the ass, w 1911 one of them
suddenly raised his head rom behind a rock.

Arthur leveled his rifle and fired, but without
effect, and all of them s rung out from their

laces of concealment an rushed toward him.
R‘hey had succeeded in drawing his fire, and
from front and rear they hastened to close in
upon him.

He drew his revolver and backed up against
the rocky wall of the pass, resolved to fight it
out to the last.

Before he could pull trigger. there came a
dropping fire 'of rifle-shots, which created the
greatest surprise and consternation among his
assailants. Some fell silently in thoir tracks,
others were yelling with agony, others were

groaning or cursing, others set their legs at .

work to take them out' of the reach of danger,
and others stood as if stupcfied, so surprised by
the sudden shock that their powers were para-
lyzed. I

A yell from Texan throats told Arthur that he
had friends at hand, and ho oponod a rapid fire
with his revolver upon his remaining antago-
nists. ,

In a moment he was surrounded by Texans,
and his hand was pressed in the hearty grasp of
Captain Jack Scott. '

CHAPTER XIII.
A FINANCIAL DIFFICULTY.
Tnn jealousy between the Kiowas and their
white allies had reached such an extent,‘thet a

I

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82

The White Wolf.

   

 

mixed party was sent away in charge of the
cattle and horses that had been stolen from
Captain Scott’s ranch.

Left Hand was convinced that the White men
had not only overreached him and his people in
many ways, but had actually stolen a large por-
tion of the proceeds of their joint robberies, re-
turning to the band much smaller amounts than
they had received. They only wanted positive
proof of the delinquencies of the white men. If
such proof could be obtained, they were deter-
mined that there should be a serious falling out
among rogues, whether honest men should get
their dues or not.

It was with this object that a mixed party
was sent in charge of the stolen cattle, composed
of six white men and six Kiowas. A baker’s
dozen was completed by the leader of the party,
a half—breed known as" J 00 Jack, who was sup-
posed to‘belong to neither side, although Glade
Oak believed that he secretly favored the
whites.

The route of tho party wan to take them
about a hundred miles toward tho west, where
they were to meet Alvar N uncz, a Mexican en-
gaged in illicit trading across the Rio Grande,
who was to take the stolen cattl 2 into Mexico,
whom it would be out “of the reach of any re-
clamation by the Texans.

The cattle were hurried forward with all pos—

sible speed, and the rendezvous was reached
without any serious accident or molestation.
Nunez was found at an old adobe building on a.
deserted ranch, which he had long used. as his
headquarters on the Texan side of the river.
' The cattle and horses were numbered, and a.
bargain was soon struck with the veteran con-
trabandist. Althouih the price agreed upon
was necessarily far clow the real value of the
stock, it was a considerable sum, sufficient to
arouse the avarice of the white men, and to
cause the Indians to open their eyes in astonish—
ment. Not only was the herd mo 0 valuable
than an which had yet been co acted on a
single raid, but the price named by the Mexican
was largely in excess of any thing that Glade
Oak had returned to the band as the result of
his transactions.

Immediately the Kiowas put in their claim to
the sum, and insisted that it should he paid to

e .

in.

To this the whites seriously objected, protest-
ing against the manifest injustice of such a pro;
ceeding. ,

“Are we not as honest as the white men?”
or ued the Kiowas. “They have“ always re-
ceived everything that has been paid for the
common benefit, and we have not objected. It
is our turn now, and we will manage the busi—
ness and collect’the money. If there should be
any more than is owing to us, we will pay it
over to the white men. In that way they have
managed the business for us, and in that way
we intend to manage it for them.”

This seemed to be fair enough on the surface;
but the white men still objected, and the Kiowas
were finally induced to modify their demand,
and consent to an equal division. ‘

Then it transpired that Nunez, who had
" listened to the discussion with sublime indiffer—

* 9W; 1m no meet to pay thee This No say:

¢~,i'

 

 

 
   

he had nothing that the uncivilized mind could
appreciate as money, and proposed to cancel h: ‘
indebtedness as he had been in the habit 01’ doi u}
when dealing with the white chief, by the aC<
ceptance of a Mexican banker at Matamoras,

drawn in favor of Captain Robert Crozier. . *

Extremely dissatisfied were the Kiowas with
this turn of affairs. It was simply incredible to
them that such a drovu of cattle and horses
could be paid for by a mere scrap of paper. and ‘1
their suspicious noses smelt a cheat at once.
They interrogated Nunez at some length, and he
explained to them the nature of the transaction
as well as he could, telling them that the holder
of the draft would be entitled to receive the
mono on presenting it to Captain Crozier, who
won] collect the amount from the Matamoras
banker who was responsible for its payment.

At this the Kiowas retired for consultation, ’
and discussed the question with a. vast amount
of jabber and gesticulation. The conclusion at -
which they arrived was by no means satisfac— ‘
tory to themselves; but they saw no other chance
to get their rights. If they were to receive no~
thing for the cattle but a scrap of paper, and if -
the prospect of money depended upon the pos— _,
session of the scrap of paper, it was im )ortant
that the scrap of paper should he placed in their
hands.

Such was the conclusion they announced to
Nunez and their white allies, declaring their un-
alterablo determination torhave and to hold to
the paper until their accounts should be settled,
and their money forthcoming. ‘:

To this determination the white men of the 
party stubbornly opposed their own. They had _
received their instructions from Glade Oak, and ',
had no idea of letting such a sum of money slip '
out of their fingers. They well know that their 5
chance to handle the money would be gone it ‘
the Indians should get possession of the pa er '
and they could not think of ‘ving up i at _
chance. Therefore they declareilnthat the draft},
must be given tothem, as they alone knew how "
to use it, and so they had always successfully
managed that part of the business. . s "

The white men would not have been so bold I
and peremptory, if they had not believed them- ,
solves to be the stronger party, and if they had v
not counted 11 n the assistance of Nunez and 1
his men. This ast element was allowed in their -
calculations without sufficient reason, as it v -
appeared, as the Mexicans carefully stood aloof, '
nnll refrained from espousing either] side of the
vexed question. ‘

At last the discussxon became so hot and hem
that the disputants were on the point of resor .
in}: to their weapons for the purpose of ,main—
taining their claims, when the veteran contra-
bandist saw fit to step in us an arbitrator. I

> He made a sEeech to the assembled Vin-anglers,
in a 'argon w ich was a strange compound of.
the punish and English languages. and some
Indian dialects, but which was sufficiently well;.«
understood by those to whom he spoke. ’ ‘

He told them, in efl‘ect. that they Were malt- .. -
ing fools of themselves, that valuable time] was ‘
being wasted, and that hr- could not allow him
self to be hindered any longer hv their quarr 19.
He had noticed their leader, Joe‘Jaok, an
perceived that he had taken no Fania the one:

 
 
    
 
  

~4~An€~m~n~ ..

  
 
    

n

 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  

    
   
  
  
   
    
   
  
   
   
   
  
   
  
  
  
  

 

  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  

  
  
  
  
  
 

   
 

The White Wolf.

28

 

  
  
  
   
 
   

“’troversy. He believed Joe Jack, therefore, to.

be a disinterested person, and would proceed to
settle the question by placing the draft in his
,hands, to be retained by him until a joint coun-
oil of the Kiowas and their allies should decide
1 what was to be done with it. Having deter—
mined on this course. he had nothing more to do
with the business, and washed his hands of them
;_ and their quarrels.
This decision was received by the Kiowaswith
a howl of indignation, and they vowed they

 

', . would not submit to it. The white men, on the
other hand, applauded its justice.
ller Joe Jack accepted the trust, and took the pa-
the r, and Nunez, believng thathe had performed
"ho is duty to the. best of his ability, rode away,
“'85  and ordered his herdsmcn to get the cattle to«
, gather, preparatory to driving them to the
(m. [Rio Grande.
out But the Kiowas, acting under the orders of
at Left Hand, had fully determined to gut possession
39‘ of the money for that drove, or of its equiva—
nce lent. They drew oil‘ together, and their hostile
"9' _ intentions were soon evident to the others, who
1f  also selected a position and prepared for a con-
‘05‘ flict.
“it The first move of the enraged Indians was to
on" order J 00 Jack to deliver to them the aper in
controversy, assuring him that it woul be per-
*0 ilous for him to refuse. This demonstration at
m‘ ‘ once drove the half-breed to the side of the, white
to 1 men, who were prepared to support him in keep—
ed ing his trust, and who thus gained a good rii e
‘ and a reliable fighter.
he Joe Jack’s refusal brought the quarrel to a
Rd crisis, and the first shot was followed by a vol-
Qd 10y from each side.
VIP, Having discharged their principal weapons,
’1“ . _ the combatants did not wait to reload, but rush-
“ -, ed to close quaixers, determined toiight out their
’I‘é ‘ d' ‘culty to the dircst extremity.
5‘ bots and blows and yells and shrieks filled the
it _ air, and the melee resembled, as much as an Y—
W , thing else, a village dog-fight, to which all tie
ly , ' ., dogs in the neighborhood had been invited. The
' Mexicans, as they surveyed the scene from their

1 saddles, were excited and amused spectators,
3‘ f heartfl Wishing that both sides would whip.
id ~ The attle was of brief duration. It was de
‘ ‘ cidedb the superior arms of the white men,
V,- ‘ 'mosto Whom carried pistols; by the superior
“l .. . strength which availed them at close uarters,
‘ ’ and by the fact that Joe Jack natural y felt it
his duty to aid them when he was drivcnto
their Slde.

,In fifteen minutes the affair was ended, and
every Kiowa was stretched dcml upon the
prairie. But their antagonists had also suffered
severely, and only three white men. besides J on
Jack. were left alive, and the half-breed was
badly wounded. -

The survivors, however, had won the fight,
and they crowed lustily over their victory.

 
   
   
    
  
  
 

CHAPTER XIV.
, , AN IMPORTANT ARREST.
“THERE’S many a slip, ’twixt cup and lip.”

 
 
  

     
 

hm rogues fall out, honest men get their
 true maxim Were abundantly

 

 

verified by the conflict at Nunez Ranch and its
results.

It had been a matter of the greatest import.
ance to the outlaws, considering the value of the
stolen property and the man from whom it had
been stolen, that the drove should be hurried
across the Rio Grande with the greatest possible
dispatch, as it might be expected that Jack
Scott and his neighbors would lose no time in
putting a party on the trail.

This was entirely lost sight of by the rival
claimants, when they were debating,r about the
money which they were to receive for the cattle.
As Nunez told them, much valuable time was
lost, and they were throwing away, not only
the chances of getting,r the cattle safely into
Mexico, but the chances of retaining their own
lives and liberties.

A strong party had been sent on the trail, by
Captain Scott and his friends, as soon as it was
possible to get a sulficient number together.
i‘hese men were all well mounted and well
armed, and it was more than possible that they
might overtake the cattle-thieves, although the
latter had such an advantage in the start.

The possibility was made a. certainty by the
delay of the outlaws after they met Nunez. The
party of Texans came in sight of them just as
they had commenced their afl'ray, and whcn
nothing short of an earthquake would have pre-
vented them from fighting their quarrel out.

Of course the Texans perceived that some-

thing had gonc wrong with their enemies, and
Were not long in reaching the conclusion that
they were fighting among themselves. This ex~
act suited the. pursuers, who immediately
ma e preparations to surround the combatants
and capture them all. They were in no hurry to
attack, as it was probable thatthe longer they
waited, as affairs then were, the fewer they
would have to light. They spread themselves
over the prairie, so as to draw a cordon around
the. scene of conflict, and to be ready to “ take a
hand ” as soon as the other players should tire of
the game. , \
Thus it was, that while the survivors were ex—
ulting over their victory, they suddenly, dis-
covered that they had been surrounded by an
overwhelming force of Texans, who were bear-
ing down upon them on all sides.

Some of them attempted to make their escape.
although escape was manifestly impossible, and
the result was that two of them were shot down.
The only white man who survived, together
with the wounded half-breed, fell into the hands
of the Texans.

The greater part of the force at once set out
toward the west, to recapture the cattle, which ’
had not yet got out of sight. Nunez and his
Mexicans, who had made an early discovery of
the approach of the Texans, had put their horses
to the top of their speed to get out of the way,
leaving the drove to, shift for itself. The cattle
and horses, therefore. were overtaken, and
driven back without difficulty. ,

In the mean time, those who had not gone on
this errand had been examinin the risoners
and searching them. The scare of oe Jack
brought to light the draft in favor of Captain 
Crozier, which occasioned'considemble wonder
and excitement among the Tennis, ‘ - r

 

; r ' \

  

   
 

 

The White Wolf.

 

   

The leader of the pursuing party was Squire

Abel Winder, a gentleman who was highly

esteemed by his neighbors, and who was possess-

ed of a fair share of intelligence. As soon as
he understood the nature of the draft, be per-
ceived that there was a point to be made for the
cause of law and order. It had been more than
suspected that Captain Crozier had assisted the
outlaws in some of their oporatiom, and here
was proof to that elfoct, no: (ling only a. little
positive evidence of his own knowledge and in-
tention, to connect hill] with it beyond the pots

'  sibility of mistake.

\ Squire Winder proposed to get this evidence

I from his prisoners, and for that purpose ques-
tione 1 them singly. tellim,r them that their lives
would be spared if they would confess all they
know about the matter, and explain Captain
Crozier’s connection with the cattle-stealh‘ig
business.

The white man was stubborn in his refusal to
do anything,r of the kind. \

' .7: With Joe Jack the squire had better success.
That individual knew that he deserved death for
his crimes, and was glad of an opportunity to
slip his neck out of a. noose.

0n condition that his life should be spared, he
told all he know about the draft that had been

,’ foundnpon him, and the dispute that had risen

- ' concerning it. He also stated that this was not

- the first draft which had been received in that

‘, way, drawn in favor of the same person and for
the same purpose. Although he iad but little
comprehension of the nature of exchange, it was
evident from his declarations that payment for
the cattle which the outlaws had run off into

Mexico had generally been received in such

drafts, which had been negotiated by Captain

Crozier, and there could be no doubt tout the ne-

gptiator knew how and for what purpose the

alts had been received.

“ That settles it, boys,” said” the SLEJll‘O. “ We
have got the thing‘dea'i on Captain ‘rozicr now,
and he must be arrested.”

The wounds of J 0e Jack were cared for, and
the other prisoner was Securely bound, and both
1 . men were sent back in charge of the party which
r  was to drive back tho recaptured cattle. SL uiro
" Winder and three of the rangers started 0 in

another direction, intend hip; to trike the shortest

' route to Captain Crozior’s plantation.

In course of time they reached their destina-
tion, and found Captain Crozier at home. He
had just returned from the journey which he
had taken in accordance with tho directions oi’
his brother-in-law, and had found the household
in'a state of confusion and excitement, consea
quent upon the disappearance of Kate. The

. youngr lady had gone out to ride, and had not

. sincebeen soon or heard of. Search had been

made, but had failed to reveal any trace'of her.

. Ca tain Crozier tried to treat the disappear-

ance ightly, saying that she had probably gone

to visit a friend, and would return when it suit-
ed her to do so. '

" In reality, however, he could not doubt what

had become of her, and her absence and its cause

it! manner threw him into th'a deepest dejection.

I e shut himself up in his own room, refusing, to

x seoany person or to transact any sort of busi—

‘ 13998. ‘ / _‘ ' V

1 w , ,.

  
 

 

   

_ He was in this stupor and seclusion when.
Squire Winder and his men calledrupon him.
He wanted to refuse to see them; but they were
men who were not to be refused, and they forced
their way into his presence. He was surprised
at their visit, and his surprise was followed ‘by . , .
anxiety, ns he quickly perceived that their man- , » '
nor was not altogether friendly. 

“ I would like to know whether you can give 
rno cash for this paper," said the squire, as he
showed the draft which had been taken from
J 00 Jack.

As soon as Captain Crozier perceived what it
was. the blood rushed to his face, and he hung
his bred in confusion. w

“What is it?” he stammercd. “ Where did
yo 1 got that? What does it mean?"

“ It appears to be a draft,” replied Winder,
“ drawn in your favor, by Alvur Nunez, or some
Mexican merchant or banker, by whom it is ac—
cepted. I don’t suppose it is necessary to tell
you what it is for.”

“ But I know nothing about it. I never saw
it before. It is none of my business.”

“ That won’t do, captain. I am as sorry to
catch you in this scrape as you are to he caught
in it; but I must do my duty. You have been
suspected for a. long time of being engaged in
this sort of business. and now we have the proof. V
This draft is for J uck Scott’s stolen cattle. The ,'
man who helps a thief to dispose of stolen goods '
is as bad as the thief, and on that ground I ar-
rest you.”

“ Arrest me? You have no right. You can‘t
prove anything against me. I shall expect a
fair trial,” replied Captain. Crozier.

“ You shall have as fair in. trial as white men
can give you. As for the proof, we have got
that down to a. nail. You may get ready, Cap— .
tain Crozier, and come with us.’ _

Crestfallen and quite broken down, the old
gentleman was led away, and was taken to the
camp of the rangers, who were besieging tho ,
outlaws at their stronghold in the hills. The ' ,
rescue of Last Chance had been followed by a  .
reconnoissance up the pass, which had shown
that the position of the enemy was apparently
iinpregnabla, and the assailants had settled
down to contrive ways and means to get at the
outlaws or to starve them into a surrender.

“ Just as I expected,” said Captain Scott,
when Abel Winder reported the result of the
expedition and the capture of Crozier. “ I was
sure that he was mixed up in the business,and
am glad that we have got the proof. I am in-
clined to think, squire, that we may be able to
draw some important facts out of him, if We .. ,
will give him a private examination, and offer '
him some inducements to tell the truth. 1

This was agreed to, and Last Chance, at his-
request, was allowed to be present at the ex:
amination. - ‘

They could not have found Captain Crozier
in a better mood for wringing a confession from: :4
him. He was com leter disheartened, and his I ‘
feelings were in sue a state that the could be ,
easily worked upon by a skillful han . ,r \ ,-

Jack Scott spoke to him kindly, and struck at ,

the root of the matter at once. vthi km
s
, 9 1pm:

   
  
  
   
  
   
  
    
  
  
  
   
   
    
 
 
  
   
  
   
   
    
    
   
   
  
  
  
   
   

 

      
       
  

 
     

       
  
  

   
   

  
   

“ There isno use in talking about
toss, Captain Owner,” be said, f‘Tb

’ kt,

 
 
      

    
 

  

WW ~Wwwm~nW m ~Wp~=avamm wmw *wha“mw.wme~w

i

The White Wolf.

. 93‘

 

that wolinvc is very strong, and can’t be 0t
over. But we know that Glade Oak is Wi ey
Simmes and that Wiley Simmes is your bro—
ther-in- aw. Some of us suppose that you may
have been imposed upon, that he has made a
, tool of you, and that your guilt is not near
as great as his. We are disposed to give you
every chance in our power, to deal as kindly
with you as we can. The best thing that you
can do, therefore, will be to make a clean
breast of it, and to tell us all you know about
the business, from beginning to end.”
“ I am ready to do so,” rqplicd Crozier. “I
“wanted to do it 1011 ago. but have held back
, for? daughter‘s 521 e.’ I
“ our daughter?" exclaimed Last Chance.
“ What daughter!”
“ Kate Crozier.”
“ Is she not the daughter of Wiley Simmes?”
“ She is not. I will explain it all, and thou
you may judge me. \thu I became acquainted
(gwith Wilcy Simmes, and when he married my
sister, I suiposed him to be a. man of. good
character. 1: was not until after the death of
. my wil'e that Ilearned what sort of a life he was
leading, and bndbecn loading foralong time.
Before this, however, there had been an event
which had ruined me for life. The naturcof
that event concerns noouo hero, and I had rather
not go into particulars. had not really been
guilt of a crime, but the proof was such that I
coul not show my innocence. That proof was
in the hands of Wiley Simmes, and he used it
mercilessly. Growin out of the same affair
were financial diflicu ties, which threatened to
woo away the labor of yours and leave me
)cnniless. Thus it come about that Wiley
L immes was the muster, not only of my reputa-
tion, if not my life, but also of my fortune, and
I gradually became his slave.
“His wife left him a son, and my wife left
me a. daughter. When both were infants, hc
roposed that his child should take the name of
rozier, and should be brought up as my son,
because he wished the boy to inherit all his fu—
ther’s gains, but none of his father‘s reputation.
He also pro used that my daughter should be
known as t 0 child of Wiley Simmes, in case
there should he an question of her parentage.
I cannot tell you lOW humiliating this was to
me, how I hated it, and how I dreaded the con-
sequences it might bring. But I was in his
power and was obliged to submit. He also
 coring:7 ed metosubmit to many other things
’ > that. ere hateful to me, though he never forced
melnto any of his lawless enterprises. On three
occasions I have been obliged to negotiate drafts
for him, similar to that which Mr. Winder
showed me. There was nothing wrong on the
face of them, and he- insisted that they could not
, bring me into difficulty. He gaveime notice of
,. this draft, and promised that he would never
 ble me with another. It is likeiy that he
“i I? keep that promise.” -
.‘ ‘f Do on know where your daughter is now?"
, 'ask'ed Last Chance. _
’- “It was the part of his programme that my
daughter should become the wife of his son.
That Was always his intention. I suppose that
.she is in his possession now, and that his purpose
[to marry her to hisson. It would have been

»

   
  
  
   
   
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
   
  
 
   
   
     
 
  
   
   
   
   
 
   
  

   
   
   
 
   
   
  
  
    
  
 
    
    
    
 
  

 

better for me, as well as for her, if I had broken
loose from him and defied him long ago; but I
suffered the deception to be kept up, and the
result is killing me.”

" Another question. My name is Arthur
Lynn, and I am the son of Judge Lynn, formerly
of Kentucky. I suppose you have heard of him.
If so, you can ucss the object that has brought
me to Texas. an you tell me what has become
of in two brothers!” ,.
“ can tell you nothing of my own know-
ledge,” replied guptain Crozicr. “ Wiley
Simmcs has told me that they are dead.”

Captain Crozier went on to explain his deal—
ings with Simmcs, and the complications into
which the latter had led him; but nothing more
of special importance was elicited.

CHAPTER XV.‘
INTERNAL DISSENSIONS.

ARTHUR LYNN hud been correct in his
supposition that Wile Simmes hastened to
reach the hills with utc Crozicr because he
believed that he was pursqu by Vv’hitc Wolf.
That belief continued until he came to the head
of the pass, where he briefly informed the guards
of what had happened. The lookouts, however,
soon put an cud to his fears, by nnnouncmg that
the person in pursuit was not White Wolf, buta
stranger. His own observations soon convinced
him that it was Arthur Lynn. ,

Having sent Kate to tho wimp, in charge of
her cousin, he made preparations to cntrap the
solitary pursuor, with tho result which has been
noted

The rescue of Arthur Lynn, and the facts
which it developed, introduced some very serious
complh’utions into the affairs of Wiley Simmos
and the rest of tho outlaws.

Jack Scott had gone up 1110 pass with a strong
force, for the' purpose of reconnoitering the
position of the enemy and possibly surprising
them, and had been just; in time to save his
friend from on turo.

Without waigjug for any explanations. he had
rushed up the pass on the heels of the fugitives,
hoping to follow them in mid capture the camp
before the rest of the outlaws could rally to the.
assistance of their comrades.

In this attempt he was nearly successful, and
he would robably have secured a position at
the head ofPthe pass, if the Kiowns had not been
more on the alert than their white allies were.
They ran to the defense and reached the point
of danger just as the Texans were about to
overpower the few white men who had turned
to fight thém.

Captain Scott soon perceived that the head of
the pass, if not an absolutely impregnnble po-
sition, couldbedefended by a small force against
any body of men he could bring to attack it.
He drew his men off, without having sufl'ered
any serious loss, and established his camp where
it would effectually block up the passage. '

The outlaws sent out scouts to inquire into the
meaning, of this demonstration, and they re
ported“ that the stronahold was besieged by a.
urge force of Texans, who had evidently “ come
to stay," and Who were hourly receiving acces-
sions to their numbers: . ‘ —

This intelligence,qu serious indeed, and put

/

   

  

  

a damper upon the spirits of all, especially the

Indians, who saw nothinvr but danger and dis-

aster in store for them. Ilieyhad so long been
committing their depredations with impunity,
and had s l long been accustomed to nothing but
success, that they could not contemplate with
any sort of serenity the idea of being,r besieged,
conned up, starved out, and probably extermi-
nated at the last. Glade Oak had no patience
with their clainoi'ou-: complaints, and told them
that they had brought the calamity upon them-
selves, that they/had insisted upon just such'a
raid as that upon which he had led them, that
he had warned them ol’ the consequences, and
that they could not blame him it" the result
sliciild prove to be What he had told them it
would be.

After a While, all settled down to consider
the matter calmly, and t.) make the best of the
§ituation. ‘ .

It was believcl to be certain that the be—
seigers would be unable to get into the valley, so
long as the head of the pass should be (lel’emlcd,
and the question was rodurvel to one of ability
to stand asicgo. The outlaws were well sup-
plied with ammunition, and they were in no
fear of falling short of provisions, as they had a
few cattle. and could in]! back on their horses
as a last resort. It was true that there was lit-
tle grass in the valley for maintaining the stock,
but they hoped that the Texan fox-co would
gradually disperse, and tinally abandon the at-
tempt, before their resources should be entirely
exhausted. '

The white chief seemed to take little interest
in those discussions, to be quite indifferent to
questions of siege or defense. Ho was gloomy
and writable, going restlesst about with a care-
worn and cast-down amir‘arancc, which was

uite out of keeping with his usual character.
It Was the resurrection of White Wolf that
‘chiefly troubled him, and on this subject be con—
versed freely with Sam Peters, the only man
who was really in his confidence.

“ I don’t understand it at all,” he said, “ and
it bothers me mightily. You saw that creature
when we chased him along the ledge, and when
he jumped oil? the cliff. That wasin plain sight,
right before the eyes of several of us, and there
can‘t be any doubt that he made the jump. It
must have killed him. How can it have failed
to kill him? When he made his appearance on
the ledge up yonder. and carried oil? that
woman and her child, I was sure that it was his
ghost. You know that the guards would never

ave allowed him to pass up from below, and it
is certain that no mortal man could have got
there and got away from there as he did.”

“ Are you sure that there ain’t, some way of
glttin’ down the cliff or through it?” asked
Peters.”

‘f Through it! A ghost might ,ass through
solid rock, I suppose, but nothing iving could.
I have examined the ledge carefully, and there
is not as much as a track for a squirrel up the
cliff. A ghost can go anywhere, Sam, and
nothing butughost could get up there. But
whenho came upon us in the timber, where
we were stringing up that young bound. from

. ,Kentucky,l must admit that‘ he gave me a
r , shock. He yelled like alive men they, and shot

 
 

'I'he White Wolf.

 

    
   
  
    
    
  
   
  
   
  
  
 
 
    
  
 
  
   
 
   
  
   
    
  
 
 
 
   
   
  
  
  

like a live man, too, laying Bill “feathers out as r
stiff as a shingle. I don’t know but a ghOst. \,
might give a yell; but who ever heard of a ghost *1.
firing: a rifle?” ~

“ Ghost or no ghost,” replied Peters, “ he
yelled like a live critter when we saw him on the
ledge that night. If a ghost can yell as he did
then, and carry elf a woman and a child, be
surely mought yell out in the timber, and fire a
rifle, too.”

“ That is trne; but I saw him in the daylight,
and who ever heard of ghosts showing them—
scl ves in the daylight?”

“ I can’t settle the thing, old man. I Wouldn’t
like to feel that he was arter mc—that’s all.”

“ I hope you have got out of the notion, Sam,
that I was trying to play a game on you, when
the woman was lost.” ‘

“Yes, I have got out of that notion. I don’t
see how you could have made anything by it,
aml,"you ain’t apt to play games that don’t

in '

 

“ That's a sensible way of putting it,” mut-
tered Siuiii'ics, as he Walked away to nurse his
moodincss elsewhere.

Kate Crozier seemed to share in the general
depression, bocmsc she was supping sorrow '
enough of her own. The lariat with which she
had been bound to the saddle had chaf’ed and
hurt her so, that she could hardly stand erect
when she was allowed to dismount. She'Was
also mourning for the loss of Last Chance.
'Whatevcr it might have been that had fright—
ened away \Viloy Simmes and his followers, She
knew that they had left her lover struggling in
the air with a. noose around his neck, and she
had no reason to hope that he might have
escaped the fate that was intended for him.
Her anxiety for herself, which would otherwise
have absorbed her, was quite lost in the con-
templation of this calamity. , .

It was very ungraciously, therefore, that she
received her cousin when he came to meet her
and escorted her to the camp. She was not sur—
prised to see him there, and the fact of his presJ
once added to her horror of the purpose for
which she had been broutrht into the hills.

She refused to take hisdiniid, or even to speak
to him, and her contemptuous conduct aroused.
his hot temper, until he was foolish enough to
taunt her with her love for Last Chance. ’

“Iknow what is the matter with you,” he
said. “You have fallen in love with that up- .
start stranger who won the race at Redwood. ”
But you had better forget him as soon as you
can, for my uncle has laid a. trap to catch him
as he comes up the pass.” ' .- l,
“ As he comes up the pass?” eagerly exclaimed

 

 

Kate. “ Is he coming up the pass?" ,
“Yes. I saw him following you across th

   

plain, and was sure of the man. He can’t help
falling into the trap as he comes up them
and there will soon be an end of him.” _

Kate could not repress a cry of delight. In
her lover had escaped the death that throne]?
him in the timber, he must bear a charmed»:
and she could hardly fear auyrfurther danger
for him. ‘ . , "

The subsequent proceeding puzzled her. 
was so much shootingbeown the pass-that
was sure there must more thnnene'ln we

  
  
  
  
   

3%-

  
   
 

   
 
  
  
 

 
  
  

  

 

   

  

 

‘The "White Wolf.

 
 

 

   
   

trap. Then there was such an alarm and up-
l‘oar in the camp, and such strong evidence of
heavy fighting at the head of the pass that the
conclusion was forced upon her that those who
set the trap had been beaten at their own game.
Nothin further of,importance occurred until
. :w. the next ay.
' ' The 0 rations against the outlaws’ strong-
_ hold ha assumed the character of a siege, and
i.» the besiegers sent in a flag of truce, altering to
' exchange two prisoners, known as J oc Jack and
Arkansas Pete, for Captain Scott’s wife and
child.

This was the first intimation which the out-
laws had had of the destruction of the party
which had been sent off in charge of the cattle,
and it caused the greatest consternation among
them. As Scott’s wife and child were not in
their possession, they could not make the ex-
changes. But Glade Oak was unwilling that
this fact should be known, and he sent back the
flag of truce as it had come, with a defiant mes—
sa e to the assailants.

‘he Kiowas, however, were by no means sat-
isfied with the state of affairs, They felt sure
that the lost party would never have been over-
taken and destroyed it there had not been dis
sensions amon themselves, and that those dis—
sensions must lave been can by treachery or
cheating on the part of whims. They were
anxious to learn the‘truth of the matter, from
the prisoners in the hands of the Texans, and
thought that it might be possible for them to
make terms for themselves with their adver—

" series, by acting independently of Glade Oak
and his followers.

With these views they sent a deputation, com-
posed of Left Hand and a prominent warrior,
to the camp of the Texans.

Captain Scott and his friends soon neti'ated
,the design of the rod envoys, ande the flame
that was already burning in their hearts, and

,, gaVe them all the information they had to give,
r-concerningr thevrecapture of the cattle and the
.V r contest at Nunez's Ranch. They also permitted

 them to converse freely with the prisoners, and

Scans completed the work which had been so well

" fig: Jack and Arkansas Pete, who were
» thoroughly indignant at Glade Oak because of
“his refusal to listen to a proposition for their ex-
change, and were stimulated by certain hopes
held out by their captors, told all they knew of
,the s tern of cheating which had long been
practiced b Glade Oak, and of the retest of
the K10was 11 Joe Jack’s party, which ad led to
g their slaughter and the capture of the survivors.
' When the indignation of Left Hand and his
companion had been fairly worked up, the lead-
are pf the Texans held an interview with them,
at which promises were made, and inducements
Were held out, the tendency of which was to in-
spire the Kiowas with hopes of their own safe»
t v, and to impel them to seek the destruction of
air white allies. In this temper, and with

, rpoae's which will hereafter become apparent,
Eloy-returned to the valley. ,

CHAPTER XVI.
' ‘ caravan or warm wont.
m   Pete wasso

   
  
   
   
  
 
 
  
   
    
   
   
 
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
   
   

 

   
   
 
   
 

  
 

    
 
  
      
  

ii

 
  
  
  

 

  
  

angry with Glade Oak, because of the cavalier
manner in which the latter had treated the pro-
position for an exchange of Ign‘isoners, that he
was ready to reveal to the iowas the style in
which they had been cheated and ill-treated by
their white allies. He went further than this;
in consideration of the promise that his life
should be spared he told the leaders of the Tex-
ans of a secret pass, through which the outlaws
might be able to escape if they should be driven
to extremity. It was ,true that they would be
obliged to leave their animals in the valley, as
that means of egress was ‘impracticable for
horses; but it was to be supposed that they
would even prefer to he “ set afoot "—terriblo
as that alternative was to them—rather than
lose their lives.

This information was of the greatest im-
portanceto the Texans, who were glad of an
opportunity to complete the blockade of their
enemies, if not to force their way into the val-
ley. They easily persuaded Arkansas Pete to

uide them to the pass, and Captain Scott and

rthur Lynn, with a detachment of rangers,
went in search of it.

Their guide led them through the roughest
and wildest part of the hills, where their route
was crossed by cliffs and seamed by ravines, so
that it was with difficulty that they were able
to make any progress.

It was late in the afternoon, therefore, al-
though they had started at an early hour in the
morning, when they reached a narrow and difli-
cult openng between two cliffs, which Arkansas
Pete declared to be the outlet of the pass to
which he was to guide them. 7

They had sat down to rest awhile, before at—
tempting to explore its intricacies, when
they were startled by a strange noise above
them. '

The noise came from the top of a hill, at the
foot of which they were restmg. It was not
high, but was quite steep, nearly smooth, and
with no growth on the side but small and scanty
bushes. The noise was at first a snarling, com-
plaining cry, as of some wild animal in dis-
tress; then some stones and gravel came rat»
tling down; then there was a. breaking, crash-
ing sound, as-of some heavy body tumbling
down the declivity.

Looking up, they saw that wild creature
which bud twice appeared to Arthur Lynn—
oncc when he was accompanied by his friend
Scott, and once when his neck was in danger
after his capture by Wiley Simmes. It was
White Wolf, who had been spying about to see
who and what the intruders were, and who had
missed his footing, and was rolling down the

hill.

As he fell, be grasped blindly at the stunted
bushes on the way; but they hardly retarded
his career, and he came rolling and oundering
down, keeping up the snarlinfi complaining
noise which had first attracted t e attention of
the rangers, until he came to a little ledge, be—
low whieh the rocks curved inward, leaving a.
clear fall of about twenty feet.

He made a brief stoppage at the ledge, cling:
ingto the rock for a few seconds, and then

 

 

dro helplessly upon the curd below. ,
, . ‘f e have got him now, hsncygi said Jack >

    

,-

 

 

  

   

 

 
   
 

    

, How can we get to her?

H with “ and wé must find out what is the inat«
or with him."

The fall had stunned the creature, and he lny
motionless upon the ground. Jack Scott and
his friend bent over him, waiting for animu-
tion tr) return, and their companions stood
around, wondering and questioning.

White Wolf had had a. severe fall. but hnd
snst Lined no serious damage, beyond a few
scratches and lll‘lllEXJS, and the stunning blow
from which he presently recovered.

Vthn his eyes were 0pm to his situation, he
suddenly sprung- to his feet, and endeavored to
escape: but his hurts hwl weakened him, and
he was in the grasp of strong iii-ms. Jnck Scott
and Arthur Lynn liel'l him l‘n'nily, at the sumo
ti me speaking to him kindly, on:l<-.:Woriug to re—
strain and soothe him. Their efforts were
effectual, and he s ion bnnnzn) calm, and replied
to their well-manningr words.

“ Wiley Sinniis? Wiley Simmns?" he mut-
terod. " No; he is not horn. But I will find
him vet. Let me go and look for him!”

“ What have you to do wit 1 Wiley Is‘iininos,
poor fellow?" usan Scott, strokin',r him as he
would a dog. “ Wn it iris Wiley Sinnnes done
to vou‘:l Tell in \Vll'l‘; is fill“ lll'ltl} ‘1'.”

“ \Vilny Sillllll‘s? I was his \Vliit.i IVolf, and
he chviinetl mo 11‘) nii'l tortured me. But it is
my turn now. li'it me g.) and iiul him.”

‘ You shall go with u". VVo nro all going; to
so'ii'cli for Wiley Sinini ‘3, and M} will help you.
Tell us what he li'is dono to you. Do you know
who you are?”

“ No. I havo been 1111']: but Iain not mad
nvi'v—-not just n )w. l have never hurt her.
Slis has been gool to me, and I have been good
to her I won't hurt you, it you are good to
in '; but I will tour the heart out of Wiley
Sim nes. Soul I \voar his chain, so tlnit I must
remember him. It hurt me; but she hii: cured
the hu .‘t3, and has tied it up, 5.) that it hurts me
n.) m ire."

“She! Who is she?" askc'l Ca tain Scott.

“ 'l‘en-iin,” replied White Wu l5, smiling as he
spoke the ll'llllr‘.

“ Tannin i’ Who is 'I‘onnie? Where is she?
For God’s sake toll me what you mean!”

“She is my sister, and she is mod to me. I
stole lin' from Wiley Simnios on his vultures.
There sh» is!" ,

As. White Wolf spoke, he pointed mWard u
ledge, high up in the {need a, clilf, where n
woman ('(llllll bn seon standing, waving a hand-
kerchief and holdin:up ii child. It was Ton-
nessee Scott, who had recognized her husband,
even at that dist'mce. and was making efforts
to attract his attention.

“ It is Tennicl It is my dour wife!” fran-
tically oxclnimml Cnpt'iin Scott. “ She is,alive
and safe! But how did she ever get up there?”
“fill you Show us the
wav?"

White Wolf looked earnestly in the face of
the 'oyful husband for n few moments, and then
nod ed his'hoad.

“Come!” he said, and trotted mvav toward
the chill, closely tollowed by Captain Scott and
Arthur Lynn.

It was a difficult path that they trod in as-

cending the cuff, and the route was a tedious

The White Wolf.

‘ occupy the cavern until morning, and both Jack ‘

 

   
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
   
  
   
  
   
   
  
   
   
  
  
   
   
   
  
    
    

fl 4,

one; but they finally crawled in at a hole in the
face of the cliii‘ where White Wolf rolled away ,
a large stone which covered the entrance to the I
cavern in which he had concealed his charge‘;
The meeting between Jack Scott and his ro-
covered wife and child was more than joyful——.
it was rapturous. This was so infinitely better
than the ranger had expected or dared to ho e
for, that his heart was full of gratitude, and lie 
felt, at the moment, that he could easily forgive 
all his enemies. , When Tennie told him how she .
had been snatched from the raisp of the out- i:
laws, he absolutely embraced liitc Wolf, and «
testified his thunxl’nlnoss so plainly that even 1"
that wild (:roatnro understood it and was over-

come by it. He had so tenderly cared for the m
mother and her child, supplying their wants by th
makingr forays upon the canipof the outlaws fr
that ’I‘ennin declared that she had had nothng 
to trouble her, except her anxiety for her hus— 1“
hand. She might have left the cavern, during

the absence of White Wolf, but feared that she ‘71
might lose herself or fall into the hands of tho 
outlaws. and concluded that she had better rcé -’ 1‘
main where she was, hoping that the mind of H “ 

licr protector would gradually clear, and that
he would rotnrn her to her friends. v

As it would be impossible for the Texans to - ,'
reach their camp that night, they concluded to

 

Scott and Arthur Lvnii endeavored to make
friends with VVlllti) Wolf, seeking to draw him
out and to learn something of his history.

But neither of them could do as much with '
him as 'l‘ennio (could, nnd she was only able to
indnve him to repeat the statement that he was
'Wilcy Sinimes’s pot “’hite Wolf, that he had
been chained up and tortured, and that he
would tear out tlu‘ heart of Wiley Simmes and
give his flesh to the buzzords.

“I huvn a Wild suspicion," said Arthur Lynn
to his friend, in a whisper. “ There is no reason
for it, I know, but it hus struck me as possible
that this poor fellow may he one of my brothers.”

“ It is possible,” replied Scott; " but you
mustn’t build anything on that.” '

“ I won‘t. I mean to sleep on it. If it should .:
prove truo, there is another score for Wiley "
Simmes to settle.” -

In the mornin r, when they started tolenve the
cavern, White oll’ secmod to beunahle toc‘onb ‘
prehend the condition of alfairs, and earnestly
protested that Tonnie should not be taken away _
from him. i ,

“ But you are going with us. my rfellow,”
said. Ca itiiin Scott, “and we wi l hunt for ,
\Viloy bimmes, and you shall give his fleshto
the bllZZfll‘ds.” _ " '

White Wolf was satisfied with this promise,
and was easily persuaded to accompany his/new
friends. ". I ’

The detachment in ch-irge of Arkansas—«Pete, '
had found the pass to which the guide was to
lead them, and were left there, withlorders to
blockade the outlet against the enemy, and, per ‘v’
hope to advance into the valley. it circumstances
should justify such a. move. The others. return-
ed to the camp. _ '1’

At the camp the wild mmlntaineer was at
brought to com rehend the true state (I
When it flash upon his bewildered brain" '

 

      

  

         
      
  

  
 
   
         
   
 
 
  
 
 

  
  

  

 
  

The White weir.

29

 

’ the Texans Were hostile to lViley Simmes and
ills Vultures, and that they only wished to get
111w the valley to make an end of them, he {have
.them to understand that he knew of an opening
through which they could enter without any
hindrance. ..

‘- This was joyful news to the Texan lenders,

'0 . Hilda-Jack Scott and. Arthur Lynn zit olive sot

‘ out under his

 

he
“Y .
he ..

 

ve - guidunce, accompanied by u. suf—
he _ ficiont force 0 their fiiends.
 7 CHAPTER XVII.

, THE VENDETTA CLOSED. ’
Warm WOLF led the Texans up a rugged
and difiicult route, and by :1 narrow passage
through the rocky barrier that separatml them

   
  
 
 
  
   
   
   
  
 
   
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
   
  
   
   
    
  
    
  

)

 from the outlaws’ valley, until he rolled away a
,g‘ stone at the end of the passage, and let in the
,3. ll ht of day upon them. I,

W assing through this opening, they f1 mnd

themsvlves on a ledge overlooking the Willey——
the same upon which Wiley Sinnncs lnid placed
Tennie Scott and her child for snfo kerning, and

‘ .. from which the wild mountaineer had stolen
them awe y.

. From this outlook they had (1 viow of the en-
tlre camp of the outlziWS, and of a. strange but
not altogether unexpected scene which was just
then being acted. .

Wiley k immes had objected to 'the visit of
Left Hand and his companion to the Texans;
but he could not have prevented it, unless by a
fight with his allies, and that was a move which
he was not disposed to risk.

When they returned, he could easily perceive
that his fears of ill results from llint interview

had not been groundless. The Kiowus had no
explanations to give to their white allies, no
report to make of what they had seen and
heard. ,On the contrary, they kept themselves
{3100! from Simmes and his followers, c.)llociing
 in knots and discussing their affairs among
themselves, and their demeanor was certainly
unfriendly, if not absolutely hostile.

The White chief believed that he understood
the meaning of these proceedings, and that they
foreboded the downfall of himself and his
friends. But he Wm not a. man to seek Burrou-
der or compromise, and be determined ts fight

' ‘out the contest to the last, against all his one

.mies. .
. ‘ l He (called the white men weather, and ex-
-'plained to them the position of affairs, and from
‘1 that time forward there were two camps
in the valley, the occupants of each hold-
1115; no communication with the other. Both
parties were constantly on their guard aguiusc
much other, and the rupture was of such a
nature that open war might be expected at any
'moment. _

Affairs did not come to a crisis until after the
cadet pass had been hloekaded, and it was while
White Wolf was leading the party up the cliffs
that the conflict began. '

' Simmes and his followers percoived that the
» ions were forming themselves for battle, and
J their leaders were barenguing them, in pr—
to bring their spirits up to the fighting
that: The white chief knew the men With
_ he had to deal, And behaved that he and

   
 
   
  
 
  
 

. P

 

and at the sometime to guard the head of the
puss against the Texans, provided that nothing
should occur to up-et his cnlcula‘ions. Accord—
ingly, he postal his men so that they could res
wire the attack with little damage to them-
solvus,’while their new enemies would be com—
pelled to light in the open ground.

He had gone to the rear of this position with
his son, in order to {nit Kale (.‘rozier in it place
of safety, when l ie Kiowns advanced, run-
ning and yelling. after the fashion of savage
warriors.

Such was the state of affairs when the party

led by White 'Wulf came out upon the ledge and
looked down into the Valley.
- As soon as Arthur Lynn caught sight of Kate
Crozier. and recognized \Viloy Simmes end his
son, he was anxiouv to demand the cliff and
take part in the uli‘rny which was about to
begin. But he was held back by Captain Scott,
who persuaded him to wait for further deVelop-
ments.

“- Let them fight a while," said the ranger.
“ We don't really care much which side whips.
The more they kill of each other, the feWer will
be left for us to kill.”

Although the Kcntuekinn Rum-red himself to
be thus persuaded, White Wolf was not to
be so easil restrained. The sight of WViley
Simmes limi’raised a tempest in his/breast, and
he was fairly frantic in his desire to get at his
enemy.

He slipped away from the Texans, and ran,
with the agility of a wild animnl,d()wn the
steep path that led up to the ledge. As the ball
was thus opened, the Texans made haste to fol-,
low him.

At the foot of the cliff he was met by Lee
(‘rozier, who started back in amazement at the
sight of this frightful apparition. The next
moment White Wolf rushed upon him, and
buried a knife to its hilt in his breast.

\Viley Sinnnes, who hnd started to go back to
his men, turned as the fatal blow was struck,
and uttered a cry of rage and horror when he
saw the fall of his son. He had no time to use
a weapon. us \Vhite Wolf was upon him in an
instant, and the deadly foes clinched in a. mortal
struggle.

Again and again the wild mountaineer struck
furiously with hls bloody knife; but Simch
had clutched his throat in an iron grasp, and
hold on with a tenacity of purpose which noth—
ing could defeat. Before any one could inter-
fere, White Wolf grew black in the face, the
knife dropped from his nerveless hand, and he
fell back lifelem Then his enemy. exhausted
 loss of blood, sunk upon the ground at his
in e. s

The outlaws were terribly disconcerted by the
fall 01’ their chiefraud by the attack in their
renr of the party that had followed White 'Wolf
down the rlilf. This gave the Ki0wns an 'ad-
vantage which they pressed to the utmost. At
the same time 'the Texans. who had been block-
uding the secret pass, perceiving the turn that
nil'airs had taken, rushed in to the nssistrinre of
their friends. The main body of the brsiegers
.also played their part, by making {1 vigoxous

 

wens would be able, to overcome them,

attack upon the guards at the head of thevpass,

, which soon provsd successful, and the entrance

)

    

   

       
       
       
         
 

I , g

4‘
'- The White Wolf.

  

 

' / r was forced. 'The outlaws, attacked on all BEADLE AND ADAMS’.

sides, were dispersed in every direction, and

ggaugfiéleins were left to complete the work of    I

Arthur Lynn had hastened to Kate CI‘OZie!‘ to
congratulate her upon her safety, and to 119— k
assure her by givnlg her a brief explanation of SPea era-
the events that hull occurred. He was so occu— Each volume contains 100 large pages, printed ,
pied by this pleasant task that he could take no from clear open type comprising the best. 601181., f ,;
purl; in the conflict that ensuell. When it was “on of Dia;ogues Dunk!“ Mm Regimtions r  u , i
ended, he was; Joulell by Captaln Scott.)th uc- Th D. S ~k ‘ l b . . f . l ‘
compamed him to the spot where VVblto Wolf 6 mm pea 6‘3 “n ""6 "Vent? 0"" V0 “mes

 

and his enemy were lying. VIZ~=

Wiley Simmos was still alive, and glanced up 1. American Speaker. 15. Komikul Speaker. _
- at the Kentuckian with a. look of unextinguish- 2- Natlfimfill Speaker- 16- 1:0‘1311’5 S Baker.
able hatred 8. Patriotic Speaker. 1;. Eloquent _, ker.

“ This is the end of it,” he said; “ but I would 3; g?gg;lgi§g$§tker- 1 ' 1133001” 1“ Weak”
be even with You folks if it wasn’t for the death " . i z i  - *

. ,7 6. Hummous Speaker. 1.). hello Comic Speaker.

0f mV 001' boy. ' 7. Standard Speaker. ‘20. Selects eaker.

“’ e 1 me one thlng before you go,” implored 8. Stulnn Speaker. 21. Funny peaker.
Arthur. “ What has become of my brothers?" 9' Juvenile Speakelfi ‘32. J 0113’ Speaker-

, u Lift me lip, then so (that I can breathe. I 10. Sprawl—Eagle Speaker  Dialect Speaker»
I” may. 8.4 well tell youJus you would get it out of  Eggfbgifigfg‘géaken ' 34- 1‘1‘5."”9'“0”5andkea’d'

.  lugs. .
some of‘the others. There lies one of them”—- 13_ Schools eaker' 25 Burke. “83 eaker.

7 pointing at White Wolf—j‘ the last who came. 14. Ludicrmg'speaker. sq p '
i113; fiznl'oYfifigzfiig‘O‘ggugghfljfiggghgggas 0: These books are replete with choice pieces for the
Set him  against a 01m, out 'yonder am‘i Shot School-room.- the Exhlblthll._for llamas. etc. 15 to
him an to pieces." 100 Declametlons and Reeltauons in each book.

“ J ack Scott 1" exclaimed Arthur, rasping the «
hand of his friend. “ It is you! on are my " Dialogues.
own brother, Reuben Lynn.” .

u Alive!» moaned the wounded outlaw, and The Dime Dialogues. each volume 100 pages. em-
that was his last word. brace thirty-two books. viz.: V '

The rangers pardoned the crimes of the Dialogues No. One. Dialogues No. Eighteem
Kiowas that were left on the condition that they Dialogues N0. TWO- Dialogue-'5 NO- Nineteen-

. . K. Dialogues No. Three. Dialogues No. Twenty. '
would go fa" from the settlement" and never Dialogues No. Four. Dialogues No.Twenty-one.

“101835 the Whit-e 1390919 agaml and they faith" Dialogues No. Five. Dialogues Nol Twenty-two. ,. _
fully Performed the” {mm the ContraCt- ~ Dialogues No. Six. Dialogues No.Twenty-threo. ‘ 

The body of Wlley mnmes was buned where Dialogues No. Seven. Dialogues NoTwenty-foui. _

' he fell; but those of Frank Lynn and Lee Dialogues No. Eight. Dialogues No. Twenty-liver ;

Simmes were taken to Captain Scott’s planta— 31333;: gg- alga 331133532:giggyémgyggé!  a ' .

' -' 7 ' . l r . . , ’  ‘-./ l. ,
“(Xlt‘ghfirfi may Zig‘friiecel‘gyfiptg r to hi . Dialogues No. Eleven. Dialogues No. Twenty-eight.

‘ u l y“ a 95mm 15 m m“ 5’ Dialogues No. Twelve. Dialogues No. TWenty-nlne., ;
Imus?» With Kate 01'02191' 9nd her fatherl‘the Dialogues No. Thirteen. Dialogues No. Thirty. ‘
leader of _the rangers becoming surety for Cap- Dialogues No. Fourteen. Dialogues No. Thirtymue’, I,
tuin Crozwrhthab he Isillould answer such char es gialozues N0. anthem. Biologues §o. ggglély‘ttfivo.

‘ 1 i h ‘ r ~' ' _ ' I A in ogues '0. Six eel). a oguvs o. r y- roe. .
Eshgflgeslsvgm  filgcf‘gvlgflme: Dialogues fiofieventeenDialogues No. Thirty-four. ; I

15 to 25 Dialo es and Dramas ill each back,
I ally conceded that he had been more sinned ml ‘ I I
y» i . against than sinning, and he remained in undis- Dramas and Reading“ / ‘
turbed possession of his property, the death of ‘ ‘
his brother-in—luw andhis neilhow havingcleured 164 mm) Pages 20 Lema’» ,
' For Schools, Panel-s. Entertainments and the Am~

0“ an mcumbmnces' about Stage, comprising Original Minor Drnmal. '

Jack Scott recognized the fact that he was‘ Coanefily.lFal‘ce. é) ess [gooein Humorgufieniiulogue
( . an or es ue, y note wr el's: an ctauons
Reuben Lynn’ although ms memory coum never and Readings. new nd standard. of the stream:

go back beyond the time when he was found at celebrity and interest. Edited by Prof. A. M. Russell.
the foot of the cliflt‘; but he continued lobe ' '

 

 

   
    
   
   
  
  
    
 
    
    
      
    
    
  
 
 
 

 

 

  

known as Jack Scott among the greater part of Lives of Great Americunl.‘ r r /
his old eloqualntancos. {If—gear?) Wfihlngton. Vlg.~'lrsruel Pufinam.
~ 7 . - . ‘ ‘ _ .-—, ohn on ones. .-~ ecumse . . ,
As there were no obtiactlone in Kentucky suf “13mm Amhnnywaym ,, XLhAbmham.mmml

 

flcient to induce Arthur Lynn to return to that [Vnmhan Ana". $1,490,131“, ,_

State, he remained in Texas, purchasing a. plan- V-"‘M€'~YQUiS de La fWNW XIII-“013839530  

H tation near that of~ his brother, and. settling r WThe above books are sold h‘ nevésfiealg
' ~ - i u  - , eyerywliem or will be sent. poshp d.,toga’n T
, gdewn upon it With Kate szur as his Wife. I on rebein of Price. ten can”, N Z?
I: ’ ‘ THE mini  mAnnts. Pubfishem,,98.Wll It. * ’

  

     
 

  
 

 

 
  
    

   
     

ban—3.04... .. .
’ 102 Denver Doll’s Device; or. The Detective Queen,
B Edward L. Wheeler.
853 The Bo Tenderfoot: or. Renting Ben Bandy of
Color 0. B Capt. Mark Wilton.
954 Black Hills en; 0;“. Dutch Jan on the War.
- Path. By Maj. Layne W. Carson.
K5 Jolly J‘ Detective; or, The Young Protege‘g
Victory. y Charles Moms.
256 Merle Monte’s Last Cruise; or. The Sea Robber
at Bu . B Col. Prentiss Ingraham,
257 The y clue: of Rocky Pass; or,'The Young
' California Pards. By _Ma;|. E. L. St. Vmin.
258 Denver Doll as Detective. By E, L, Wheeler_
5259 Little Foxeye, the Colorado Spy. By 01] 000111945.
$80 Skit, the Cabin Boy. Ry Edward Willett.
261 Blade, the S 0112' or. the Giant of Clea;- Grit

   

 

v;

     
  
   
  

   
    
    
 
  

  
  

Camp. B . C. arbang‘h.
282 Billy. the oy Rover. By 00:. P. In reham.
-, #53 Buster Bob‘s Buoy' or, urge, the ‘gheflouse
Keeper. By Cent. 3'. F. 0. Adams. ‘

 

.264 Denver Doll’s Par'ner; or, Big Buckskin the
" Sport. By E. L. Wheeler.
265 Billy, the Beggege Boy: or. The Young Railroad
~ Detective. liy Charles Morris.
266 Guy‘s Boy Chum; or, The Forest Waif’s Mask.
By Capt. Comstock. ,
267 Giant Ge0(ge's Revenge; or, The Boys 02 5‘ Slip-
ugilline." By Buckskin Sam. *
268 '1 e Deadshot Dand ; or. The Rio Grande
. Marauders. By 001. rentiss Ingraham.
£69 The uartzville Boss; or, Daring David Darke
y ward Willett. -
270 Denver Doll‘s Mine: or, Little Bill‘s Big Loss.
B E, L. Wheeler.
271 Egon y J im’s Terror; or. Ranger Rainbolt’e Ruse.
By 011 Coo

. mes.
. ‘ m Kit, the Girl Detective. By T. C. Harbaugh.
, ' 273 The Girl Rider; or, Nimble Ned’s Surprise. By
Joe. E. er. Jr.
274Dsad Shot nmly’s Double: or. Benito, the Boy
P rd. By 001. Prentiss Ingrnham.‘
9276 Fred. the Oct-an Wait; or. The Old Sailor-“s
Protege. By Charles Morris.
276 Deadwood Dick Trapped. By Ed L. Wheeler.
277 The I'iiot Boy Avenger: or, Captain Wild-Cat’s
Big Game. By Albert W. Aiken.
_ 278 Arizona Alf, the Miner; or, Little Snap Shot’s
.h r  ~- , Luck. By ’1‘. C. Harbaugh.
I ‘- 279 Colorado’Jnck. the Tiger; or. The Ghost of the
-= " Trailer. ByFrederick Dewey.
280 Dead Shot Dandy’s Last Deal, or. Keno Kit‘s
, New Role. EEOC]. Prentiss Ingmhntn.
281 Ned, the Boy 'lot; or. The Pirate Lieutenant’s
- Doom. By Jack Farragut.
282 Buck Hawk, Detective or. the Messenger Boy’s
 Fortune. By Edward L. Wheeler. '
'283 Bovine: S ort Kit; or. The Ghost of Ohuckaluck
./ Cam . y Edward Willett.
28-1 The howman’s Best Card' or. The Mad Animal
' Tamer. By Capt. Fred. W ittaker.
286 Old Rocky’s Ford; or, Little Ben‘s Chase. By
Buckskin Sam.
286 Dick, the Dakota, Sport. By Charles Morris.
237 Net], the B0; Ski per; or. The Sea Sorceress’
, Cruise. By ack erragut.
' 288 Deadwood Dick's UngLIlSP; or. Wild Welt. the
g ' , sport. Bv Edward L. Wheeler.
 289 on] urath Nick, the Lassoist; or, Old Si’s Protege.
By Major H. B. Stoddard.
‘ 290 Rube, the Tenderfnot: cr. the Boys of Torpedo
Gulch. By Major E. L. St. Vram.
291 Peacock Pete. the Lendvxlle Sport; or, Hawk. the
‘ Boss Miner. BV Albert W. Ame“-
, Night-Hawk; or, the Black Rider,
. E. Badger. Jr' . .
thfidDefiCtWITVfi]; tar. Kit Kenyon's
w : Man-Hunt. B W34 ‘3
994 Dumb'Diek‘s me-d' or. Eliza Jane, the Gold
” an By Ed. L. Wheeler. .
wane thng, the Ferret Flyer. ByChas. Moms.

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manure POCKET LIBRARY.’

 

5 388 The Gold Bar De ive; or, Iron Ike, the
I Mon. {WWI}; 8t lira-In.

l

 

.4

29‘? Arizona Giant George; or The BoyeeBOISardino
Box City. B 7 Buckskin m.

298 Daisy Doll‘s ash; or, The Ten Colorado Parda.
BI}; T. C. Harbaugh.

299 T e Balloon Detectives; or, Jack Sinsher‘sYoung
Pard. By Hal-r Euton.

800 Deadwood Dick 5 Mission. B E. L. Wheeler.

301 Brandy Duke. the Cowboy. y Major B. L St

ram.

302 Big Benson’s Bet. B T. C. Harbaugh.

308 The Hotel Boy Deiec ive; or. The Grand Central-
Rob ry. By Charles Morris.

804 Bald Head's Ford; or, Creeping Cat's Cunning.
By Buckskin Sam.

805 Dusky Dick's Duel; or, The Demon’s Trail. By

Harry Hazard. V ,
The Store-Detective’s Decoy.

306 Spotter Fritz; or,
B E. L. Wheeler. _

807 ick the B0 Sport: or, Three Plucky Fords.
By Major E. St. Vrain.

308 Double—Fisted Mat: or, The Mystic California
Giant. By Joe. E. Badger, J r.

309 0d Graybvard’s Boy: or. The Girl‘s Ruse. By

C. Dunmn Clark. >
310 Kit, the ‘irl On being or. The Mad Sailor?
Legacy. By 001. rentiss In aham.

311 Frio Free in Texas. By Buc skin Sam. ~

312 The Detective Rond-Agent- or ’The Miners 0
Sassafras City. By Edward L. Wheeler.

31:: Honest J nck’s Protege; or, The Dwarf's Scheme.
B Philip S. Warne. .

814 Clip the Boy Sherifl' or, The Two Crooks of
Montana. By Edward Willett.

015 Tom the Arizona Sport: or. Howling Ennktrom
Her Luck. By Major E. L. St. Vrein.

316 The Street Arab Detective; or. Dick Dorgan’s
Double Dealing. By Charles Morris.

317 Buckskin Ben 01! Texas; or. Single Eye's Plucky
Paras. By Buckskin Sam.

31b Colorado Char‘ie’s Detective Dash; or, The
Cattle Kings. By Edward L. Wheeler.

319 Frisky an': in Idaho; on Old Skinflint the
Shadowor. By Roger Starbuck.

320 Cool Sam’s Girl Paul; or. Captain Dick and His
’l‘rxnns. By T. C. Harbaugh.

321 Billy, the Kid from Frisco; or. Silver Mnsk’s
Clew. By J. C. Cowdrick. _

322 Fred Flycr, Detective; or, Abe Blizzard on Deck.
By (J'anrlos Morris.

323 Door] Shot Ike in Montana' or, Hez Helper, the
Yankee Pill'd. By Roger S rbuck.

324 Kit, the Denver Sport; or. The Bonanza Miner
King. By Edward L. Wheeler.

325 Dusky Darrell the Camp Detective; or, The
Dandy‘s During Dash. By EdWin Emerson.

3% Roy. the Boy Cruiser: or. The Water. Wolt
Wreckers. By Colonel Prentiss Ingrahem.

327 Ned. the Roving Miner: or, Arkansaw Jack's
Match. By Harry Hazard.

328 Rocky Ben’s Band; or, Big Pete‘s Big Haul. By

W. J. Hamilton.

329 gave. the Colorado Wrestler. By Maj. E. L. St.

{8.111. ' '

3&0 The Denver Sport‘s Racket; or, Kit's Big Boom.
B Edward L. Wheeler.

331 T e Coast Detective; or. The Smuggler Shadow-
er. By Romr Starbuck.

332 Dakota. Dan in Canyon City; or. Colorado Kate’s
Check. By Philip S. Warne.

33% Bootblnck Ben. the Detective: or, Pooler Jim
and His Pnrd. By Anthon P. Morris.

331 Frisco Tom on Deck; or, T 18 Golden Gate Smug-
glers. By George Henry Morse.

315 Ben Bandy, the Boss Ford; or. The Plucky

Parson. By J. Stanley Henderson.
336 Fred. the S rt, in Brimstone Bar Cams:i or.
The Boston restler‘e Confederate. By . L,

Wheeler.
33? Daisy Dave the Colorado Galoot: or. The Boss
of Dead Linc Cit . By '1‘. C. bMIgh.‘

  

BEADLE’S____PQCKET LIBRARY.

3% Rnrdo. the Boy Gygsy. By Wm. G. Patten.

#110 Billy Bubble‘s Biz ‘core. Bv Charles Morris.

311 Colorado Steve's Dash. By Philip S. Warne.

342 Snap~Shot Sam. By Bucksin Sam.

313 Mike. the Bmvery DetccliVe. By E. L. Wheeler.

344 The Drummer Sport. By Edward Willetr.

345 anues, the Hardpan Detective; or. Captain
Frisco the RoadAtent. By J. C. Cowdrick.

346 Joe. the Chicago Arab. E Charles Morris.

3L7 Middy Herbert’s Prize. 3y Col. 1’. lnzraham.

318 Sharp Shooter Frank. B Buckskin Sam.

319 Buck, the Miner. By Maj. 4. L. St.Vmin.

350 Ned, the Slab City Sport. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

351 Rocky Mountain Joe. By Col. T. H. Monstery.
New York Tim. By Charles Morris.

)1 The Girl Pilot. By Roger Star-buck.

3 iJoe, the Boy StageyDriver. B Maj. St. Vrain.

 y Texas Frank‘s Crony. By Duo ‘3' in Sam.

35‘) Idaho Ned, DetectiVe. By Edward L. Wheeler.

35’? Guy, the Boy Miner. By 001 P. Ingraham.

359 Jerrey Joe, the Old Tar. By Mrs. Orin James.

 Dandy Dick‘s Dash. By Oll Coomes. .

an. Jim’s Bic- Bouanita. by W. J. Hamilton.

3m Oregon Phil, the Sport. By Philip S. Warne.

36. Kit, the Boorblqck Detvntive. By E. L. Wheeler.

3% The Ocean Racer. By T. C. Barbaugh.

361 Fritz‘s Old Score. By Ned Buutliue.

365 Crack Shot Harry. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

will Gold Dust Rock. By G. Waldo Browne.

3d? Fred‘s Bold Game. By Paul Biblis.

369 Jim, the Sport in Wake-up By Ed. L. Wheeler.

369 Captain Blake‘s Jonah. By Roger Starbuck.

370 Denver Kit’s Double. By Major H. B. Stoddard.

371 Blue Blazes Dick. By T. C. Herbaugh.

372 The Sea Cat‘s Prize. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

877i Larry O‘Lynn's Dash. By Joseph F. Henderson.

374 Jim, the Sport's Biz Boom: or, The Bonanza.
King's Rival. By Edward L. Wheeler.

375 Bowery Bob, Detective. By Jo Pierce.

376 Buckskin Dick’s Clean Swee ; or, Jonathan
Jenks’ Still Hunt. By Col. Art iur F. Holt.

377 The Deadwood Sports. By Lieut. S. G. Lansing.

37% Bronco Billy, the Saddle Prince. By Colonel
Prentiss Ingraham.

879 Dick. the Stowaway, By Charles Morris.

340 Young Dick Talbot. By Albert W. Aiken.

381 Dandy Bill’s Doom; or, Dcerhunter, the Boy
Scout. By 011 Cooms.

3‘42 Wide-Awake (Ieorge liy Edward Willet.

383 Wild Bill. the Pistol Prince. By Col. lngraham.

381 Brimstone Bill’s Bootv. Bv J. E. Bridger, Jr.

385 The Boy Tramps. By J. M. Hoffman.

3% The Montana Kid; or Little Dan Rock’s Mis-
sion. By Morris Rcdwing.

387 The Boy Detectives. By T. C. Harbnugh.

388 The Pony Express Rider; or, Buffalo Bill’s
Frontier Feats. By Col. Premise lncraham.

399 New York Bill, the Dodger By Edward Willctt.
390 The Ticket-of-Leave‘s Trick; or. Spring Steel,
King of the Bush. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

301 Charley Skylark, the Sport. By Major Henry

B. Stoddard.
39-.) Texas Jack, the Mustang King.
Prentiss Ingraham.
393 Peter, the Dandy Grecnhorn. By Noah Nufl.
391 Tom Temple’s Bit: Strike. By Bu rry Ringgold.
31)?) Harry, the Country Boy, in New York. By
Charles Morris.
:mn Detective Paul's Rizht Bower. By C. D. Clark.
397 Tin Tressell. the Flatboat Boy. By Ed. Willott.
308 Captain Jack in Rocky Roost. By 001. lngralmm.
3'19 Harry Somers. the anician. Bv S.  Pierce.
400 Black Horse Bill. By Roger Starbuck.
401 Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. By Chris. Morris.
402 Flatboat Fred on the Mississippi. By E. Willett.
4011 Jake, the Colorado Circus Boy. L’y Bryant
Bainbrldge.
404 Texas Charlie’s Wild Ride. By Col. P. Ingraham
405 Wlde~Awake Ned. By Barry nggold.

By Colonel

 

-’ ‘v‘m‘mr.

406 Giant Pete and His Paras. By T. O. Hat '
407 Old Rufi‘s Protege. By Captain Bruin 443%“
408 Stowaway Dick Abroad. By Charles Merl-15‘
409 Doctor Carver, the Champion Shot. By 001 P
410 {Vngrnliiam. ‘ '
aprn n Fly—B -Nl;:ht. B Jon. E Bad er r.
411 New York Jack’s Mettle. yBy Barry Riggz’olljd.
412 Sam Spence. the Broadhorn Boy. By E. Willett.
413 Revolver Billy in Texas. By 001. P. in rnham.
414 Dasher Dick’s Dead Lock. B J. M. ofiman.
415 Pony, the Cowboy Chief. By . B. Stoddard.
416 Panther Dick’s DeathLea . By A. F. Holt.
417 Fightin Fred of Frisco. By T. C. Her 11.
418 Bucksk n Sam's Wild Ride. B Col. P Ingra. am.
419 Frisco Guy’s Big Bonanza. y Roger Starbuck.
420 Pat Mull-oony‘s Pard. By Emerson Rodman.
421 Tim, the Boy Acrobat. By Charles Morris
422 Red Spur Ralph, the Texan. By C. D. Clark.‘ '
423 Dashing Bob. the Pony Express Rider. By 001.
4,4 grentissts Ingrahagli.

2 om one, the d Sea Do . By C. D. ark.
425 Darky J umble‘s Wild RidegBy Bar ' Rgggold.
426 Wolf-Cap; or, The Night-Hawks o the Fire-
427 grinds. tByBCapt. Céiaf. Howard.

ess1e. he order if . B Ben J. Th '
428 Nebraska Charlie. By CoLyP. Ingaham.omu
429 Bill Beeler‘s Bonanza. By Edward Willett.
430 Long Shot; or, The Dwarf Guide. By Captain
431 IC(inistolck.

. .i lie, tie Reckless Rider. B Ma . Sled ar .
432 Cool Clark‘s Rash Race. By Charlies Morgan.d
433 Old Grizzly in the Rockies. By Col. P. lngraham.
431 Joe, the Rover Sport. By A. H. Post.

435 An Iiish Sport Abroad. By C. L. Edwards.

436 Oregon Josh. the Wizard Rifle. By R. Starbuck.

437 Detective Jake‘s Clew. By B. B. Stoddard.

438 Fancy Frank’s Drop. By Col. P. Ingraham.

439 wri'lvfipur; or, The Mountain Heroine. By Ed.

1 e .

440 The Death Shot. By J one h E. Bad er. Jr.

441 Wistah, the Child Spy. B; George (fieason.

442 Dirk. the Sea Dandy. By Roger Star-buck.

4.13 The Masked Avenger. By C l. P. Ingraham.

444 Cool Clark’s Dead-Set. By Charles Morris.

445 Old Pegs, the Mountaineer. By L. W. Carson.

416 Black Panther, the Halt-Blood. By Joseph E.
Badger, Jr.

447 The 4 ntelope Boy. By George L. Aiken.

448 Wild Raven, the Scout. By 0]! Coomes.

449 The B >y Pilot. By Colonel P. ingraham.

450 Kidnapped Dick. By J. Stanley henderson.

451 Silv r Rifle. the Girl Tracker. By Chas. Howard.

452 The Giant Humor. By Harry Hazard.

4 3 The Half-Breed Rival. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

454 The Darky Detective. By Mrs. Orin James.

455 Clark‘s Bit: Bonanza. By Charles Morris.

456 Nick Doyle, the Gold Hunter. By P. IL Myers.

457 Frank Bell, the Boy Spy. By 011 Gnomes.

458 The Champion Texan Rider. By H. St. George.

45$) Dusky Dick’s Doom. By .708. E, Badger, Jr.

460 Fighiing Frank in Texas. By Edward Willett.

461 The Buckskin Rider. By Guy Green wood.

462 Darky Sci ‘5 Dilemma. By Paul J. Prescott.
463 The Mad kipper. B Roger Starbuck.
464 Frank Bell, the Boy hief. By OII Coomes.

465 The Texan Sport. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.
466 The Twin Buckskins. By W. J. Hamilton.

467 Marsh Mose and His Dog. 'By Walter N. McNeil.
468 Jack Scott in Texas. By Edward Willett.
4'39 Donald’s Death Shot. By Lieut. Col. Huzeltinc,
70 The Runner Detective. By Harry Hazard.
Ready January 11th.
A New Issue Every Wednesday.

BEADLn’s Pocnn'r LIBBARY is for sale by all News-
dealers five cents per copy, or sent by mail on re-
ceipt of Six cents each. ‘

Emu: AND AnAMs. Publishers,
William Street, New York.