9:3. 7
m

nnmnmq 7 ._g
a 1 ;HMHHHHMHHHHHMHHM

 

No  09,50 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams, Pyloe, V01 
I I - I

. ‘ “"- No. 98 WILLIAM ST. NEW YORK. “"0 00"“-

LILLIE, THE REGKLESS RIDER.

BY MAJOR H. B. STODDARD, Ex-Scout.

 

 

Gordon Lillie.

LILLIE,
THE RECKLESS RIDER;

I The Wild Hunter’s Secret.

1 BY MAJ. H. B. STODDART), Ex-Sconr,
AUTHOR or “NECK-TIE NED,” “PoNY. THE

COWBOY.” “nAmnn RAPHAEL.” “THE
BOY VIGILANTES,” ETC., ETC.

CHAPTER I.
A QUARREL AND A FIGHT.

THE subject of this life‘sketch was born in
Bloomington, Illinois, in 1861, and little of in-
terest happened during his schooldays until he
arrived at the age of sixteen, when, just bifore
he graduated from the High School, an inci-

' dent occurred which changed the whole course
of his life. ‘

Gordon Lillie was a youth of unusual bril<
Honey and quickness of memory, and these
qualities made him an exceptionally bright
schol ir, so that be readily acquired lessons in a.
few minutes which it took others hours to com—
mit to memory.

Besides this he was a perfect model of boyish
boa ty and his fair hair, blue eyes and almost

’ feminine delicacy of complexion made him a
great fuvorite‘with those scholars that belonged
to the weaker sex as well as with his teachers:
for be combined with his good looks a gentle-
ness and courtesy of manner that won the
hearts of nearly all those with whom he came
in contact. .

But there was one member of his class, who,
jealous of Gordon’s popularity and chafing he-
neath the thought that this stripling who was
so far inferior to him in strength, should be es—
teemed his superior in all other accomplizhmenfs,
seized every opportunity to insult and to mock
and scoff at the lad.

‘ His taunts at length became unendurable,
, and one day when Big Ben, as the boy was call-
ed had gone further than usual, Gordon Lillie

‘ suddenly turned upon him as they were leaving
the school-house together, an‘d said:

“ Ben Wilson, I'm tired of your bullying, and
it’s got to stop.” ‘

“Got to, has it?” sneered the bully, confident
in his superior years and strength. “And who
’ll make me stop?"

“ 1 will I"

“ You, you baby!”

“ Yes, I. And to prove it, take that!"

“ That,” was a. sounding slap from Lillie’s
right hand which suddenly struck the other’s
cheek with a resounding smack, before he could
parry the blow, and left a deep red mark where
the aim had irritated the skin and flesh.

ith a growl of rage Big Ben drew himself
together to leap on the frail lad who thus defied
him and crush him to the ground beneath a.
hail of blows; but the sight of the principal of
the school, who at that moment came around
the corner, deterred him.

I

 

“ Just wait until to-morrow, you yr ung
milk—sop, and I’ll fix you!” muttered the older,
as, mad with pain and Inge and mortiflcation—
for a. half—dozen of the boys ha-l witnessed his
discomfiture—he bottled up his anger as best he
could and slunk away. v

“ I’ll be at ‘ The Hole’ to—morrow afternoon,”
called out Gordon, naming a favorite swim-
ming place much affected by the boys in the
summer, for here was an eddv, and the water,
shallow above and below, just at this spot was
some twenty feet deco.

The other nodded that he understood and the
little group separated, most of the boys follow-
ing \Vilson, to whom they wished to toady; for,
although they disliked, yet they feared, him.

But two of the lads remained with Lillie, and
walked slowly home with him, talking of what
had happened and while praising his pluck,
advising him to keep out of Big Ben‘s we y.

“ You’d better look out for him, Gordon.”
c1utioned, one of his friends. “He never’s been
licked and he's had lots 0" fights.”

“Ne-Ver’s a long lime..J in,” laconicilly an-
swored Gordon, “and if he never has been that
is no sign that he never will be.”

“Well, good luck. I’d like to see bully Ben
taken down a peg.” ’

And having reached his home the three Sep-
arated, Gordon entering the house and telling
the bovs good-night, they promising to be at
“ The Hole” on the succeeding afternoon.

The boy'kept his Own counsel and his perents
suspected nothing as he quietly ate his supper
clluiling with them on various subjects, am
taking his books, when the table was clearei
away, and applying himself to preparing h s
lessens for the next day. - r

This task finished, he said a quiet good-night,
and retiring to his room, he was Soon i'l bed,
whnre he quickly fell asleep and slumbered as
quietly as if no such person as Big Ben were in
existence.

Up early the next day by the time themorn-
ing meal was pre and e had erformed the
dozen little tasks e had allotte himself, and
then, after a hearty meal. slung his books over
his shoulder and started for school, reaching
which he found, from sundry nods and whispers
interchanged between the boys, that the affair
had been confided to several, of them, and that
a goodly crowd would visit the arena to witness
the combat that aft-moon. ' '

He also sanig Ben; but no words passed
between them, as the bell rung at that moment
and they all flocked into the schoolroom.

And when the classes were callezi up, Gordon
only added to Wilson’s wrath by answering
questions which the other missed, so that by the
time recess came Lillie was at the head of his '
class, while Ben Wilson had‘grndually slipped ,.
down near the foot, where he stood, nursing his
wrath and biting his nails until the blood came.

At length twelve o‘clock struck, and the boys
were free for the day, for it was Snturday.and
a half-holiday, and the boys hounded out of the
school—house with shouts and whistles, rejoicing
in their freedom. ‘ l,

Gordon was detained for a. moment by the
principal, who praised him for his excellent re-
paration, and spoke a few kindly words W 'ch

 

Gordon Lillie.

made titehoy’s heart glow with pride and pleas»
um. and than, linking his arm in the lad’s,
walked with him until nearly home, their roads
lying in the same direction.

But, as they separated, and Gordon turned
off toward his home, he came upon a crowd of
his schoolmates, among vi horn was Big Ben.

As he came wiLhin tearing, he caught the
Words that a little boy spoke, who was not more
than twelve years old:

“Gordon isn’t a coward, and I don’t believm
Ben Wilson, that he told Mr. Evans 7’ (the teach-
or) " a. thing. He is no more coward than you
are, you big bully.”

And with clinched hands and flushed face the
little champion confronted the othrr.

But he cruelly raised his hand and struck the
little fellow a crushing blow on the head, while
even his intimates cried “ shame!"

Gordon hastened up and spoke to them:

“ You know, boys, that I am no tell-tale. and
that I wouldn’t say a word to any one about
anything that had taken place,

‘ As for you, Ben Wilson, I‘ll be at ‘ The
Hole ’ at three o’clock and we’ll see who is the
coward !"

And he wended his way homeward where he
ate his dinner and then with some excuse for
his absence, left the house and set out for the
place of meeting, which was some two miles
distant out in the country.

On his way he was joined by Jim Davis, one
of his particular friends, who exhibited with
great pride a sponge, a bottle of vinegar and an
empty bottle which, he explained, was to hold
water.

“ I‘m to be your second, Gord, an” ’11 sponge
you off in great shape.

“ We’ll have a regular prizeflght, an’ I reckon
Ru Callender ’ll second Ben.”

“ All right, Jim,” returned tire boy cheerily,
and they hurried along the path, Davis giving
Gordon much useful or useless advice regarding
the strategy he should display in the combat.

“ Keep a—peg in’ away at his ribs, Gord, .an’
try an’ get out o the way of his rushes.

“ If he ever hits you fair you‘re agone sucker;
but if you wind him there’s no tellin’.”

In a few moments more they had reached the
ground and found it occupied by twenty or
more of the boys.

The turf was level and ” The Hole,” in few feet
distant, was covered with ice. not thick enough
to sustain a person, but sufficiently strong to
make it dimcult for any one to get out if they
broke through. ’

A few trees scattered here and there bore
amid their branches a dozen of the smaller boys
who had climbed up to secure a full and unin-
terrupted view of the fight. ‘

The preliminaries were soon arranged, and as
the boys insisted on a fair,’ stand-up fi ht, a
would-be sporting you“: was armed wit the
autholgigg of referee, while Big Ben and Gordon
prom' faithfully that when either was down
no blows were to be struck, and at the call of
“ time" advanced and shook hands.

And as they stood there the difference in the
two was remarkable: Gordon with his slight
limbs and white skin, seeming almost effemi—
mate, yet beneath the velvet covering lurked

/

 

 

.3
v

muscles and sinews of steel. the remit of care-
ful habits and thorough exercise: but the mas-
sive limbs of Big Ben stood out in cruel con-
trast. although his skin had a pasty look from
owrfceding and much drinkin of beer.

As they stood sparring. ilson suddenly
rushed upon his young cpponent, aiming a
sledge-hammer blow full at his face, but
Lillie leaped ligh‘ly aside and, avoiding the
rush, sent his right hand into Ben‘s low er-
ribs with a sound like the beating of a drum
and laucbed his left with full force before
the other could stop or turn, and catching
him full brhintl the ear, sent him staggering
over the turf until be measured his length on
the ground.

A chorus of cheers greeted this knrck-down,
and Gordon retired to his correr, smiling, while
Big Ben was assisted to his feet and led to a
seat on his second’s knee, where the lump te-
hind his car. now the s’ze of a pigeon’s egg, was
bathed by Reuben Callender. while Ben gazed
at his antagonist as if be u ould annihilate him.

in a few moments “time” was again called
and this round was decidedly in favor of Wil-
son, for hurling himself upon Gordon before the
latter could get out of the way, he struck him
on the cheek just below the eye, knocking him
far ofl his feet and followingit up with a vicious
upper out under the chin, which made the boy’s
teeth rattle. and sent him sprawling into his ctr—
ner before Gordon could strike a blow.

It was all that Jim Davis could do to restore
him to consciousness. and when he again ad—
vanced to meet his antagonist he was decidedly
light-headed and groggy on his pins. yet, smil-
ing and confident, for h‘s indomitable pluck
stood him in good stead and the severe punish-
ment he had received only served to make him
more cautious.

Following Jim Davis‘s advice, he kept well
away from en until he saw an opéning, when,
rushing un er the bully‘s guard, be planted one,
two, three stinging blows in his face and, as
Wilson staggered back, gathered all of his
strength into one well-directed blow, which
can ht him full in the mouth and knocde him
bac ward over the bank, whence he crashed
through the thin ice and disa peered beneath the
dark waters rt “ The Hole, while a cry went
up from Jim Davis:

“ Heavens! Gordon you have stunned him,
and he will drown!”

CHAPTER II.
A NARROW ESCAPE.

FOR. a few moments the boys stood awe.
stricken by this sudden and unexpected termina-
tion of the fray, while it seemed as if it were to
be a fatal one; and not the least startled of the
crowd was Gordon Lillie, who was horrified at
the thought that he had thus sent a human
being to eternity. .

But in a second more he recovered himself,
and leaping to the bank he threw his hands far
above his head, and springing into the air,
plunged head-foremost i to the opening where

Vilson had disappeared, and dove deep down
into the icy-cold waters.

 

  

J

t

'4 ‘Gordon Lillie.

 

Down, down he Wont, unlil he come nearly to
the bottom, when with Wi'ln open eyes he saw,
close to the bank, a dark obj ct which he knew
must be Wilson’s body, and grasping. be en-
deavored to draw it to the surface; but the
drowning lad’s hand had clutched an out-
strelched root, and his grasp on it. was like iron,
so-fiercely does a drowning person clutch at
anything he may feel. ,

Gordon pulled, and tugged and wrenched with
all his might, while his chest felt as if wcigh ted
down with tons of lead, his temples throbhed
and his veins swelled as if they would'burst
.from the effort to hold his breath.

Just as he was about to giva up in despair and
release his hold to save his own life, while he
gave a mighty wrench at the boy’s arm, the
root parted, and taking a fresh clutch on Wil-
son’s collar, he gave a push with his feet and
shot up toward the surface.

But the slowly swirling waters of the eddy
had carried them under the ice and faraway
from the plnce where they had lunged in, and
as he rose his head encountere the ice which
was thicker just here, there being scarcely any
perceptible current.

For a moment his heart failed him, as his
strength was almost gone and his lungs would
no longer remain inactive; but with alast de—
spairing effort he drove his hand upward, and
although he cut and bruised it, the ice yielded
and his head rose above the surface of the
water, where a few deep inspirations restored
his breath, and he was enabled, with but liltle
exertion, owmg to the thickness of the glassy
surface, to support both himself and his com-
panéon, who remained insensible and apparently
den .

And their situation was still a desperate one,
for it seemed impossible for him to break his
way through the ice until he reached the shore,
while there was not a fence anywhere near
from which rails could be obtained which could
be ushed across the frozen surface to his aid.

ud all this time the cold was creeping
through his bones and bathed in the icy water
his limbs were becoming numb, his muscles
were growing stiff and owerless and it seemed
as if he could not sustain the exertion of sup-
porting himself and his burden much longer,
while as he supported himself with one arm,
stretched out over the ice, the treacherous sur«
face kept crashing and breaking, often letting
him down until he was entirely submerged be-
neath the cold fluid that surrounded him.

But in a short time, just as he was about to
give up, a man, seated in a Wagon, came driv-
ing across the field toward where the boys
were assembled, gazing at the tragedy which
was being enacted before their eyes, and shout-
ing cries of encouragement to Gordon tokeep
up a little longer.

Jim Davis had seen the vehicle being driven
along the road a short distance oil! and running
as rapidly as he could toward it, had pantineg

“shouted to the driver:

‘_‘ 'IIK‘hfre’s a boy drawing in ‘The Hole ’, come
q-nc . .

Arriving at the bank the man leaped from his
seat and, as the boys clustered about him, point-
ing out the little group framed in the ice, he

 

hastily ordered them to loosen the reins, while
he sprung to the rear of the wagon and lifted
the tailboard out.

This was fastened to one end of the lines by a
staple in one end, which held it in its place, and
two or three comforters, hastily taken from the
boys’ necks being tied to the reins the tail-board
was Sent spinning ov ‘r the ice in the direction
of Gordon, and slid up close to him so that he
could easily grasp it.

Resting on the board for a moment to retain
his strength, he then, by a wonderful exertion,
lifted Wilson out of the water, bearing on the
plank which distributed his weight and sus-
tained him, and laying him on it, at full length,
face downward, he shouted to those on shore to
“ pull away.”

And in obedience to his words the tail-board
slid slowly along the ice until it neared the
shore, when a. dozen hands grasped the uncou-
scious boy and lifted him up onto the ground.

Then the driver of the vehicle took the board
in his hand once more and again sent it sliding
0v r the ice toward Gordon, who, relieved of
the weight of W'ilson’s body, found it much
insist to support himself, being able to use both

an 5.

But as the board neared him and be partially
raised himself to grasp it as it came within
reach, a. cry of horror broke from the little
crowd gathered on the bank. for the board,
striking an obstruction in the shape of n morscl
of rough ice and turning, flew far from him,
while the knot which held the lines mmc un-
done, allowing the board to slide over tothe
opposite side where it lay out of his reach.

Again and again did they endeavor to reach
him with the end of the leather reins, but with-
out avall, for the lines were new and stiff and
without a weight at their end to keep them
straight curled and twisted so that they would
not reach, while the boys hunted far and near
for a stone or some heavy article which they
could fasten to the end of the lines and thus
reach Gordon who was perishing from cold be-
fore their eyes.

And suddenly a cry of horror rose to their
lips, for Lillie, calling out a few words which
they could not catch as they issued from his
blue lips, threw up his hands with a despairing
cry, and disappeared from their sight.

And they stood staring at the spot where he
had sunk until they abandoned all hope of ever
seeing him alive again, when they, wrapping
Ben in all of the ‘over and under-coats they
could muster, started to return to the city to
obtain aid to recover the body of their much-
beloved friend and comrade, the insensible boy
being laid in the wagon and carefully driven
over the frozen ground by the driver, who could
not cease blaming himself for not more care,-
fullv attaching the lines to the tail-board.

They soon reached the road along which the
vehicle was traveling when Jim Davis had seen
it, and turned off to the right in the direction
of the town.

As they moved slowly along, all talking at
once. and discussing the late occurrences—
which had happened in much less time than has
been necessary to describe them—in all their
various aspects, they were startled almost out
{

 

 

    
   
    
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
   
   
  
   
   
  
 
   
  
   
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
 
  
  
   
   
  

 

 

    
     

  
 
 

 

 

 

- quickly wrapped up

 

mm.- ,

Gordon Lillie. 5

 

of their wits by hearing a familiar voice call
out behind them in chattering tones:

“Say, some of you fellows lend me acOat;
I’m ’most frozen!”

And turning they saw Gordon Lillie hurrying
toward them as rapidly as his almost frozen
and stiffened legs would let him.

In a moment more they were assured that it
was indeed their friend in the flesh and not in
the spirit, and warm Were the hand-shakes he
received, and many the expressions of thankful-
ness that he was alive and safe: while he was
and seated by the driver,
“ho pulled the horse-blanket he carried over
his knees and then broke out:

“Say, Gord, how did you get out?

“We thought you was a gone coon when we
saw vou throw up your hands and sink.

“You said somethin’ we couldn‘t hear and.

come to the conclusion it was yer last words."

“Well, Dick, Iwas lpretty well played out, I
tell you, and knew couldn’t hold up much
longer.

“I saw that you fellows couldn’t reach me
with the lines, so come to the conclusion that l
h d better make a break for myself.” _

l‘Seems to me you was a-makin’ a break;
breakin’ the ice, anyhow,” and the driver
lchuckled at his joke, which he thought excel-
out.

“Well,” continued Gordon, as the boys clus~
tered around ihe wagon to listen, “ I knew that
the water got mighty shallow below where I
was, twenty or thirty feet or so, and that the
current was pretty strong, so that the ice
couldn’t be very thick, so I thought I’d try for
it before I was clean winded.

“I hardly remember what I yelled to you
fellows; but I was so cold I could hardly
speak.”

“Get up!” interrupted the driver, at the
mention of cold, for Gordon’s teeth were still
chattering; and the horse starting off at a brisk
trot. the disgusted boys were left far behind,
while Gordon continued:

“So I, took a deep breath, went under and
kicked and struck out like 8, 00d fellow, head—
ing down stream for the ri p es.

“B-r—r-rl but it was on! I

“It wasn't long till I struck the shallows
around the bend, behind the trees, and there I
got footing, and stood up without any trouble.

“You couldn’t see me on account of the

Vtrees’. but I heard the wagon rattling, and,

wading to the other shore. struck down the
bank. crossed the bridge, and here I am.”

“ An’ right glad we all are to see you!” broke
in the good~natured driver, with whom Gordon
was a great favorite, as indeed he was with all
who knew him.

“I hated fearful to face yer pa, with the
news of your bein’drownded, an‘ didn’t know
what to do.

“ But here we are." so skip out an’ see if Dr.

\ Trevitt is in; Ben, here, needs him had.”

Fortunatelv thedoctor was in and shOrtly
had Ben stripped and laid on a lounge in his
back ofllce, which was well—heated by a small
stove, the warmth of which was very welcome
to Gordon.

For a long time he labored with Ben, Gordon

 

watching him with intense anxiety, for he
would be partially responsible for the boy’s
death if he did not recover, and eventually his
patience was rewarded, for Ben opened his
eyes, gave a deep groan and began to breathe
naturally.

Then Gordon, putting on some dry clothes
brought by the good-natured driver, jumped
into the wagon, was driven home and was soon
warmly covered up in bed. where he quickly
fell into a deep slumber from which he awak-
ened completely refreshed, although he was not
allowed to leave his couch until the following
Monday.

On going to school he learned that Ben would
not be out for several days, and found that by
all, teachers, boys and girls, he was regarded as
a perfect hero.

 

CHAPTER III.
THE GREAT MATCH.

GORDON received the many congratulations
showered upon him with much modtsty, and
avoided as much as possible talking about his
adventure; yet he had to relate it over and
over again to various interested crowds, who
seemed never to tire of lisiening to him.

In the evening he went around to see Ben,
and found him confined to his bed, and still
very weak; but he was glad to see Gordon,
begged his forgiveness for all of his unkind-
ness and thanked him again and again for his
kindness and daring in thus risking his life,
so that they parted the best friends in the
world.

At home he was made much of and whep it
was understood that the quarrel was not of his
seeking he was not blamed.

“ Never seek a quarrel, Gordon,” said his fa—
ther; “but if it is forced on you don’t back
down.

“ Fight as long as you have a bit of strength
left, if your cause is just—the greatest coward
is he who is forever quarreling and always seek-
ing trouble.

“ It takes a’brave man to say ‘Nol’ ”

And the Christmas holidays came, the winter
passed away. and Gordon, faithful in his attend-
ance at the High School, won high praises from
his teachers, and continued a favorite with all
of his companions.

At length spring came. and the day was
rapidly approaching when Gordon was to grad-
uate.

From bitter enemies he and Ben Wilson had
become the stanchest friends, being constantly
together and the closlst possible chums in all
their sports and pastimes.

They both excelled in athletics, and when the
warm weather came and the Highchhool-boys
began to play base-ball, Gordon was elected
captain of the nine and the selection of the
plavers left entirely to him.

Many were the consultations that took place
and long and deep were the confabs, as he and
Ben discussed the merits of this and that player
who were thought of sufficient strength to form
one of the “ Nine.” ,

Ben was to catch. while Gordon was to pitch
——that was soon settled, and at length the num’
ber of players was complete and the boys be.

‘

    
 

 

.

 

6 Gordon Lillie.

gan to practice aesiduously in the long evenings
after school.

And soon the important announcement was
made that the Bloomingtou Club had chal-
lenged the High School to a friendly game, and,
the challenge being accepted, the excitement
reached fever-heat. while as the all-important
(lay drew near the anxiety regarding the
weather was almost insupportable.

At all hours when there was light to see and
they had leisure to devote to it, the two chums
occupied themselves in practicing; Gordon try-
ing the “ in-and out curve,” the “up-and—
down ’7 and the slow twisters, while Ben care-
fully studied his signals until, at length, they
understood each other, thoroughly. '

And finally the day came and every boy in
the city, at peep of dawn, leaped from his bed
and ran to the window to take a look at the
Weather; and great was the rejoicing when
the beheld the fair sky overhead, scarce
fl '0 ed, here and there with an occasional cloud.

It is to be feared that lit‘le attention was
paid to their lessons by the scholars that morn-
ing and that when the dinner—hour came their
throats were too choked with excitement to
allow any of them to eat very much, and then
how the time did lag! It almost seemed as if
every clock and watch in the city were an hour,
at least, too slow, and the possessors of time-
pieces were driven nlmoet wild by the ev:r~
recurring question:

“ Please, sir, what time isit?”

And long before the hour set—three o‘clock—

.rthe grounds were crowded, and balls were flying

about from hand to hand like hail-stones.

All of the High School girls were there, each
one wearing a strip of lavender ribbon—that
being the color adopted by their favorite club-—
and their families were all assembled to encour-
age the boys. while a large number of the
friends of the Bloomington club swelled the
crowd, so that the assembly numbered hun-
dreds,

And soon a four-horse open wagon, driven by
the man who had tried to save Gordon from the
stream, and offered by him to the boys, drove
up, containin the champions of the High
School; and bright,athletic, manly fellows they

looked in their neat uniforms.

Tneir costumes consisted of quiet gray shirts
and knee-breeches, and lavender and gray stock-
ings, while a shield was outlined on their shirt—
fronts inclosing the monogram “ H. 8.”, also in
lavender, while their neat gray hats were trim—
med with thc same color as the letters.

A lavender-colored belt about the waist com-
pleted their dress,‘with the exception of gray
shoes.

It was the first time their uniforms had been
seen. and ahum of admiration went up from
the spectators, who thus testified to their ap-
proval of Gordon’s taste.

And he seemed to he the central figure. for
his well-fitting uniform set off his slight but
muscular fl ore to perfection, while his hand-
some face, g owing wirh health and excitement,
caused more than one young feminine heart
to flutter faster, while the story of his gal-
lant rescue of Ben was repeated a hundred times
OYOI‘. ‘

 

In a few moments the other club drove onto
the grounds, and a. feeling of dismay took )os-
session of the partisans of the High Sahou as
they saw them descend—such big, bi‘aWny,
bearded follows were they.

In a short time the preliminaries were ar-
ranged, and Gordon and the other captain tossed
forinnings, the boy Winning and choosing the
“ outs.”

A gentleman who was thoroughly familiar
with the game consented to act as umpire, and
the field being cleared, the boys took their posi-
tions. In a moment more “ play " was called,
and the batsman calling fora. “low bill," the
sphere shot from Gordon’s hand, and the game
commenced.

The first batsman for the Bloomington nine
was their captain and second-baseman, an oil
hand at the business, and thoroughly up in all
the intricate points of the game.

Yet Gordon’s uzziing delivery deceived him
and he SWept tie air twice in vain efforts to
“get onto " the b‘lll; but at the third strike he
hit fair, and amid a general cry of pleasure and
disappointment the sphere soiled high into the
air and far, far out toward left-field.

Here was stationed Jim Davis. and as he saw
that the ball was going far over his head, he
turned and ran as fast as he could, stopped,
steadied himself and getting under the ball ,
caught it beautifully amid the cheers of his
friends and aringing cry of “ well done, Jim i"
from Gordon. .

The next two batsmen went out easily; omn on
a foul-tip which Ben gripped hard as i: flsw
over his head leaping high in the air, and the
other on a little “ baby 7’ fly which Gordon cap-
tured easily.

But when the boys went to the but they found
that they could do nothing against the terrific
pitching of the opposing club; they hai heard
of swift delivery, but had never faced it, and
often struck after the ball had settled in the
caicher’shands amid many a howl of derision
and cries from the small boys of-

“ 0 v, get a barn-door!”

“ ’i‘ Is-x him one!"

“ “7.th yer hittin’ at?” and the like.

So the High School was retired in one, two,
three order and tonk their positions in the field
again with disconsolate faces, which were not
brightened when the first batsman for the city
hit for three bases far out to right-field and
almost ot home.

But t 9 two succeeding men fell victims to
Gordon’s strategy and they commenced to feel
more ho etc], when the third man drove the
first bal
swifth was it coming that the boy involuntari—
ly stepped asidetoavoid bring hit but stuck
out his left hand, and in some unaccountable
manner the ball caught in his fingers and,
although they were instantly numbed. he held
on to it and the side was out without getting in
the run they were so confident of.

And the cheers that Went up caused the boy

to grow red as fire and they did not cease until

he had lifted his hat a dozen times.

And so the game went on amid marvelous
exhibitions of skill, the boys gaining confi-
dence as the afternoon wore away, for their

pi'ched straight at Gord n. and so ‘

 

 

      
       
     
   
   
      
    
  
 
   
  
   
    
   
    
  
 
 
 
   
   
    
  
  
    
   
   
  
   
   
   
  
  
   
  
 

 

if
2%
f ,
l

I
3'

i

 

my. zwk-acga. «~4— .

 .

 

       
 

   

 

 

 

 

 

h‘fl'm‘amr rm J n ., 4

 

 

 

 

 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 
  
 

Gordon Lillie. _ 7

 

opponents had not et brought a man home,
while they themse ves had not been able to
score.

Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen innings
were played and still neither side had won and
such excitement had never been seen in the
citv.

Nine mere lads to hold down these experts to
nothing in thirteen innings? Why, it was in-
credible!

The driver of the four-horse team was in an
ecstasy of delight, and even went so far as to
olfer to wager his team and wagon against an
old horse-shoe that the boys would win; but no
one would accept the outrageous odds.

“Beat Gord!” he cried, “the man don’t live
as can give that boy points.

“ Just ain’t he a daisy!”

But the sun was sinking low in the west, and

all saw that another inning must terminate the 7

game, and so it was agreed between the two
captains, and a great hush fell on the immense
audience as they took their positions for the
final struggle.

And in a short time, by an unfortunate play
by their short-stop, a. grievous error by third-
baseman, who had an excellent chance for a
double play, and an outrageous muff by the

, first-baseman, the bases were all full, and not a

man out on the Bloomington side. and the case
certainly looked desperate for the boys.

And as if to add to their misfortunes a foul-
tip, glancing off the bat, struck the mask worn
by Ben, heavily, and, breaking it, cut his cheek
just below his eye terribly, almost blinding him,
when “time” was called, and ice-water ap-
plied to the wound.

Ben was the qnly catcher, unfortunately, that
the High School boys had, and it seemed as if
they would have to relinquish the game and
give it to their opponents; but Wilson, who
through constant association with Gordon, had
absorbed some of the latter’s pluck, leaped to
his feet. and refusing the offer of the other
mask, took up his position, bare-faced, under
the bat and nodded to the umpire to call “ play,”
while the applause sounded loud and fast.

And, wonderful to relatel so puzzling did
Gordon send in his balls, that the next three
men were put out by pitcher and catcher,_and
were whitewashed for the fourteenth consecu-
tive time!

But the first two of the school-boys followed
suit, and then Gordon came to the bat, called
for a fair ball, hanged away at the first that
came, sent it sailinglfar over the fielder’s heads,
and before it could be returned had crossed the
homeplate amid yells and cheers that fairly
shook the earth.

The great match was won!

CHAPTER IV.
A NIGHT ADVENTURE.

INa short time after, Gordon graduated at
the High School and. always having had agreat
desire to go West, he began to urge the project
upon his parents; but they, considering him too
young, opposed the idea. ,

But many of his friends pointed ‘out how
thorougth capable of taking care of himself he
was and ow he had prOVen his courage and ,

 

self-reliance in the saving of Ben Wilson’s life,
so that, at length, their arguments prevailed
and he left home in the spring of 1878, when
seventeen years old, and landed in Wichita,
Kansas, a short time afterward. .

At that time the town was full of cowboys,
cattle—men, gamblers and hard characters of
every description, and midnight brawls and
murders were of such common cccm rence that
scarcely any attention was paid to them.

One night, shortly after he had arrived, he
found himself some distance from the town,
having taken a long walk out over the prairie,
and knowing of a hotel or lodging-house not far
off, where he could rocure a bed, he directed
his way thither an , arriving at the door,
knocked loudly, for there was no light visible
and no evidence of life about the place.

And repeating his summons more vigorously
he in vain endeavored to rouse some one within,
but again without success.

“Hello, in there!” he cried, determined 11 n
entering, for the night was getling dark an a
few drops of rain began to fall, and he kicked
vigorously on the door until it fairly creaked on
its hinges.

“ Who is there ?" at this rude summons growl-
ed a voice inside.

“Open up!”

“ Not to-night.”

“Then I’ll rap here until morning,” and place
ing his back against the door he began to beat a
tattoo on the wood with his heels.

“1 am in bed,” replied the voice.

“ All the worse for you; get up!”

thoever was inside thought better of his
former answer, evidently, so cried out:

“Wait a moment!”

And in a few minutes the door was opened
and Gordon stepped in out of the rain which
began to fall heavily as he entered.

The door had been op n=d by a. rough-lookin
customer, who was com plate] dressed an
nothing about him indicated t at he had just
risen.

“Hello!” said Gordon, “I thought you were
in bed.”

“ It is’the boss who is lying down.”

“ Ah! then you are not the ‘ boss?”

“ No, I am,” interrupted a. voice which Gor-
don recognized as the one which he had heard
while outside, and by the light of a lamp which
the man held, the boy perceived in the corner
of the room, where it was darkest, a bed and in‘
it a man lying down, wrapped up to the chin in
the cover.

d “You are the proprietor, then?” asked Gor-
on.

:ZXe-s, sir.”

nd why didn’t you 0 n u ?”

“Because I am in bed arid sic .”

“Oh, chills I suppose. But I want to remain
here tonight; can you give me a room?”

u N01” «

“But I cannot return to Wichita in this
rain.” ’

The man half-raised and then, recollecting,
hurriedly covered himself, but not before Gor-
don had noticed that he was completely dremed
and had a revolver buckled about his waist.

a, Curious,” thought the boy; “ sick and in

 

I» '

 

 

  

 

 

 

8

   

bed, yet completely dressed and armed; I’ll see
this adventure through 1"

“ Well, if you must stay, I have a bed that I
can give you; do you want to go to your room
now ’

“ Immediately.”

“ Well, then, Jim, show the lad to his bed.”

And after whispering a few words to the
“ boss.” as he called him, Jim, taking the lamp,
motioned to Gordon to follow him and left the
room, going up to the second story, which was
nothing but the garret, and opening a door and
pointing out a straw bed to the boy.

Then leaving the lamp on a chair—there was
no table in the miserable apartment—with a
grufl' “ goodnight,” he closed the door and
withdrew.

And Gordon began to ponder:

" This man is in bed, completely dressed and
is armed.

"Now these preparations cannot be for my
benefit as I came here unexpectedly.

“I am naturally curious and I scent trouble
for some person or persons unknown.

“I’ll see it out.”

And blowing out the light, he laid down on
the bed, and lay there, waiting.

In a short half-hour he heard the stairs crank,
as it some one were mounting them stealthily,
and immediately began to snore gently, while
the steps approached the door and then stopped,
as if the person were listening.

Apparently satisfied that Gordon was asleep,
the visitor descended the steps again and all be-
came quiet.

A half—mile away stood a farm—house, sur-
rounded by many acres of tilled land, while the
numerous out-buildings scattered about, the
general neatness of everything, gave proof that
the owner was well-to-do and amply blessed
with this world’s goods. V

The day before he had sold a number of fine

cattle to a purchaser irom Chicago and the

money was still in the house, where his wife
was alone, except a. servant who slept in the
upper story, for the farmer had been suddenly
called to another farm he possessed some ten
miles off, leaving his foreman Jim Reynolds, in
charge until he should return. ,

But Reynolds had proven faithless and after
sending the farm—hands ofl in various directions
under different pretexts, had sought out the
proprietor of the- inn where Luke had stopped
and proposed to him that they should rob the
house, a proposition which was immediately
agreed to. -

The farmer’s wife was seated in her room,
reading, when suddenly the barking of a dog
was heard outside, and she recognized in it
Pluto, an enormous watCh‘dog which was loos-
ened every night, and the young Woman, star-
tled, rose from her chair and listened, while the

.rain beat against the_ window—panes and the

wind moaned down the chimney.

At the same moment she thought she heard
voices in the garden, just below her window and
she trembled with fear as she thought of the
lawless population of Wichita and at the rec )l-
lectlon of the sum of money her husband had
left in her. charge. .

She went to the window, opened it and looked

v

T‘s

 

Gordon Lillie.

_.A

out, but the darkness was intense and all was
silent, the dog having ceased his growls.

“ It is nothing,” she thought and again seated
herself.

But a half-dozen minutes had scarcely passed
when again she rose and listened, for an un-
usual sound, one difficult to describe, a creaking
and a crackling, struck her ear, as if some one
were pressing hard against the front door.

Frightened, but determined to see what it
meant, she took the lamp from the table and
opening the door, stepped into the ball, but
there she saw nothing, and then, going down-
stairs, stepped into the front hall, and there she
sto )ped with a cry of alarm.

wo men,'their faces daubed with soot so as
to be entirely unrecognizable, had just entered
the front door, one of them carrying a naked
knife the other holding a short but massive iron
bur in his hand.

These two men had just broken open the front
door, and were about to go up-stairs when the
young woman had appeared before them, lamp
in hand, and they stood for a moment, hesitat-
mg.

Then one of them spoke:

“ If you remain quiet we will not harm you;
but if you call out or endeavor to escape, it
might result in injury to you.” .

And as he spoke he turned the blade of his
knife until it shone in the lamp-light.

“ What—what do you want?” staminered the
frightened woman.

b “3‘0 say a. word regarding your absent bus.
an, . '

"“He made a sale of some cattle yesterday
and the money is now in the house.

‘t‘ We do not wish to harm you—at least I do
no . ‘

"My friend here is a. little impetuous and it
he was alone I do not think that he would have
argued with you at all.

“ He has a knack of cutting all disputes short
with a blow of his crow-bar”——here the poor
girl—for girl she was in yeamshuddered,
“ which cuts all argument short. , r'

“ It is a short way of settling difficulties if it
is a little brutal.

“But may be we can arrange matters ami-
cably,” continued the villain, who seemed to
take pleasure in tormenting the trembling wo-
man.

“ But tell me what you want. ‘-
l'f“';l"ake everything, anything, but spare my

1 9.

And the young woman fell on her knees, set-
ting the lamp on the stair beside her, and,
clasping her hands, looked u entreatingly in the
faces of the two robbers an assassins.

“ If you care for life. you will show me where
your husband’s money is—all of it.

“ We want—”

He never finished the sentence, for a flash
sprung out of the darkness, proceeding from
the halflopened door, a report was heard, a ball
whistled and the innkeeper, struck full in the
chest, uttered a horrible blasphemy, turned in
his tracks for a full minute and then tell to the
floor, stone dead. ' I .

At the same moment a slight figure sprun
into the hall and, with leveled revolver, cover

 

<i

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gordon Lime.

9

 

the second robber, who, as cowardly as he was
cruel, trembled with fear as he saw his compan-
ion iall, and tried to escape.

But a ringing voice cried:

“ One step, and I fire!”

And he dared not move.

“ Throw down that crowhar! or~”

And the iron clan ed to the floor.

Then turning to t a young woman, Gordon,
for it was he, asked:

“Where can I confine this wretch ?”

“The cellar has no window, and if he is
tied—” stammered the girl, still half-stupefied,
and scarcely comprehending this sudden change
in aflairs.

“ Ohl I’ll tie him fast enongh. Come, you
unhung scoundrel, get!"

And he marched him to the cellar at the point
of his pistol, being li hted by the young woman,
and, following him own the steps, bound him
fast with a clothes-line brought to him.

And then going rip-stairs, he was about to ex—
plain his sudden appearance, when the dog
again barked, the sound of a horse’s hoofs was
heard, and in a moment more the farmer enter-
ed, having hurried home as he was uneasy
about his wife.

And seated before a bountifully spread table,
Gordon told how his suspicions had been arous-
ed, and how, dropping from the window, he
had followed the burglars, and arrived just in
time.

And he was thanked again and again by both
husband and wife, and at length retired in the
best bedroom, the two vying with each other
to see which could do the most for him.

And the dead body having been carried out
into the wood-shed, and the door of the cellar
securely fastened, the household sunk to slam-
ber, and was disturbed no more that night.

CHAPTER V.
A FIGHT WITH A PANTHER.

IN the morning they were all astir bright an
early, and the man who had been confined in the
cellar all night was brought upstairs, suffering
intensely from the Ian vigil of the night, as he
lay like a trussed fow , unable to sleep, and a
cup of codes being given to him he was allowed
to make a hearty meal, when, the farmer and
Gordon having mounted, he was marched off to
Wichita, there to be tried before Judge Lynch.

For, although the town was full of desperate
characters, stealing was frowned upon,~and any
one caught in the act was more than once pun-
ished byfithe extreme penalty of the law.

When the news spread of the attempt of the
night before, thebetter class of citizens immedi-
ately assembled to judge the man, while
the rougher elements crowded to the spot from
curiosity, and when Gordon had told his story,
amid many expressions of praise and comments
on his nerve and coolness which were remark-
able in one so young, sentence was passed; the
accused man not oflering a word in extenuation,
and the wagon containing him was driven to
the edge of the town, halted under the spread
ing branches of a large tree, and soon returned,

, while a swinging body hanging to a

 

em is
Hing), and with a placard on its_breast, swayed
to and Iro as a warning to all evxl-doers,

 

Soon tiring of the lawlessness of his associ-
ates, Gordon, in further pursuanco of his first
intention, started on foot for the Indian Terri-
tory, a distance of fifty miles, and passed some
time in hunting and fishing, for the country
was full of game. .

He had not been long in the country when
one day in the summer, while in search of game
on— the banks of Camp creek, where black bear
and small panther abounded, he was wander-
ing under the trees, when he suddenly caught
sight of a dark object stealing through the
undergrowth two orythree hundred yards off to
the left, and thinking that it must he a hear he
cautiously hurried toward it. lringing his rifle
to a ready,and loosening his knife in its sheath.

Owing to his being compelled to pay some
attention to the path he was following, be lost
sight of the game he was‘pursujng; but soon
heard a craC'ling among the bushes not far
ahead, which warned him that he was rapidly
approaching his prey. ‘

Ile r doubled his caution, and soon caught
sight of the animal, when raising his weapon,
he took a snap—shot, and the bear rolled over on
the ground, tearing up the turf in his dying
agonies; while the boy, springing forward,
drew his knife, and coming alongside his quarry,
sunk the steel to the hilt in the wounded
heast's side, the point of the keen blade reaching
his heart.

And as the fatal stab was given the bear
rolled over, gave one convulsive struggle, and
in etanily lay dead at his feet, when he, leaning
his rifle against a tree near by, plucked out his
knife and set about skinning the animal.

But as he leaned to his work, a scream rung
through the woods that sounded almost like the
death-cry of a human being, and Gordon re-
ceived a shock on his shoulders that sent him
rolling over and over on the grass while his
knife flew out of his hand and landed on the
turf a dozen paces away, while the sudden blow '
dislodged his revolver from its resting—place on
his hip, and it fell on the ground as he tumbled,
just beyond his reach.

And as he lay face down upon the turf, he
realized, from the low growls, the tearing claws,
the gnashing teeth and the hot breath that
scorched his ffice as the white foam dropped
from the crunching jaws, that he was in the
clutches of one of the panthers which roam
about the banks of Camp creek, and which,
crouched on the overhanging branch of some
tree, had leaped upon him as be bent over the
hear he had shot.

And then began a life and death struggle, for
the lad was wholly unarmed, and for a few mo~
ments was unable to use his hands, being pinned ~
to the earth; and all the time the curved claws
were tearing at his back, so that his buckskin
shirt soon hung in shreds about him, while the .
long white fangs were crunching at his shoulder,
and the loss of blood, the hot, stifling breath of
the beast, made him sick and faint.

But at last, by a mighty effort, he succeeded
in rolling over on his back and grasping the
panther by the throat, and he sunk his small

ut sinewy fingers deep into the velvet skin that
lay in folds about the animal’s neck, while be
pressed one knee deep into his chest, and despite

 

    

Pi;

 

‘10

his struggles, held the brute firmly on the
ground; while all the time the rending claws
were tearing his clothes into strips, and leaving
lon , deep, cruel gushes in the white skin an
ten er flesh. .

And all the time the green eyes of the strug-
gling panther flashed fire, and low growls issu-
Ing from his deep chest, the foam flew from his
jaw; in every direction, covering them both,

, while the green turf around was dyed crimson

by the blood which flowed so freely from the
boy’s oping wounds.

Andg Gordon, growing fainter and fainter,
suddenly was thrown to one‘ side, as the brute
gave one convulsive struggle and a mighty
bound, and his hold on the pant-her’s throat was
shaken loose by the muscular effort. In a mo-
'ment more he was lying on the turf, with the
grinding fangs of the animal ripping at his
shoulder and neck, and he closed his eyes,
iitterly worn-out, and gave himself up for
cat.

But suddenly his outstretched hand encoun-
tered something cold lying on the grass, and
catching it he, with one last effort, cocked his
revolver, placed it close to the head of the rev-
eniug brute and pulled trigger, when the pan-

' ther, with an unearthly screech, leaped high in

the air and then fell with crashing weight full
on the boy’s body, crushing what remained of

, life out of him, and leaving him lying there in-

sensible; while the tawny brute, stretching
out his massive limbs, fell over to one side—
dead.

And dyed as he was in the crimson fluid shed
by both the panther and himself in this mortal
struggle, the boy presented a ghostly sight, and
seemed to have won the victorxonly at the price
of his own life.

And the day waned, the sun set. the moon
rose and still Gordon gave no sign of life, while
the beasts of prey that roamed the forest, scent-
ing the carnage from afar, began to gather
from all directions, with numerous howls and
wreeches. and the nocturnal birds of prey, their
shadowy forms flitting about the gloom cast by
the trees, seemed like ghostsor uneasy spirits,
hovering about the central figures in the moon-
lit glade. ‘

Butns the nightéwinds arose and blew with

' increasing freshness over the stream and along

its banks a long»drawn sight broke the momen-
tary stillness, and Gordon, drawing his hands
across his forehead, wet with the dews of life
and of death, opened his eyes, and, looking
about. him, strove to recall his scattered
senses.

Foralnoment all was vague and indistinct
and dim to his mental vision and then as his
hand, thrown listlessly out by his side, encoun-
tered the yet warm body of the panther. recol-
lection flashed upon him, and he recalled in all
its vividness, the terrible encounter in which he
had shortly before taken so prominent a part.

And he, with an effort, suddenly sat up,
while the beasts of prey. emboldened by the si-
lence that encompassed him, which had drawn
their circle of glistening fangs closely about
lhimtstartled by the movement. bounded back
under cover and crouched, waiting until their
victim should once more sink back, exhausted,

 

aJSV"».1;\) tsunami-"W:

Garden- Lillie. . 3’,

while their glaring eyeballs shone like blazing
stars as they crouched in their coverts, licking
their chops and uttering low growls of impa-
tience at the delay which interrupted their ex-
pected feast.

[n a short time Gordon sprung to his feet,
feeling stiff and sore in every muscle and joint
and raising hi: revolver, aimed at one of the
balls of fire that glnred at him and let 8. bullet
fly in the direction of the greenish-lined target.

Instantly there was a yell of pain as the ani-
mal bounded into the air and then fell back
crashing into the bushes which rustled and
snapped as he rolled in his deuth nrzonies, while
the rest of the horde fled in eVery direction,
snapping and snarling. and the birds booted a
discordant accompaniment to the nocturnal
chorus.

Feeling somewhat better from the fresh air,
Gordon staggered to the river and there, re-
moving his shreds of clothing, she ped into the
water and washed and bather his wounds
thoroughly, although he was only able to use his
right arm, his left hanging almost useless at his
side from the severe wounds in his shoulder
where the panther had gnawed and crunched
it, and, feeling a hundred per cent. better after
his bath, returned to the tree where his rifle
was placed, after dressing himself, secured his
knife and then, gathering a quantity of dry
branches that strewed the ground in every di-
rection, he built a rousing fire, and, cutting off
ajuicy beansteak, toasted it over the embers
on a forked stick and made a hearty meal,
wushingit down with long draugbts of water
from the creek.

And then he began his lonely vigil, keeping
the fire burning brightly for the double purpose
of driving away the wild beasts and’protecting
him from the chills of the night air, until finally
the sun rose, when, cooking another steak, he
made his breakfast and then, hanging the re-
mainder of the mth in the branches, but with
little expectation of finding it when he returned,
he skinned the panther, when, throwing the
hide over his shoulders be Set of! for the ranch
where he was stnving for a few days, reaching
it after along and fatiguing walk, often being
compelled to stop and rest.

But at length he arrived and wins warmly
welcomed by such of the cowboys as were in
camp, to whom he related his narrow escape,
and receiving their congratulations and praises
with becoming modesty.

One of the boys possessing some rude skill in
surgery and medicine, dressed his numerous
scratches with some healing ointment, and,
after assuring himself that there wereino bones
broken, bound up the wounded shoulder with
the assurance that in a few days there would be
no further trouble and that the boy would be
“ all right " in less than a fortnight.

And so it turned out, for within the time
specified, Gordon was completely restored, pass-
ing the interval about the camp and aiding the
cowhovs by attending to such light duties as he
wns able to perform. '

Soon after this, by the advice of his father he
applied for a position in the Government In-
dian Service. and through the influence of ex-
senator David Davis, of IllinoiS, he was up

(

 

-:i‘-:V,

-\
._.w .
. ...s_._

as...“ .

 i‘.‘vv;~*:€.‘i 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

,.

a
i
v'l'

 

that you wi

 

Gordon Lillie.

    

11

 

pointed rincipal of the day-school at Pawnee
A ency, IIlndian Territory.

anator Davis was an intimate friend of Gor—
don’s father and lost no opportunity of doing
all in his pom—r to aid the ad, and he soon be-
came extremelytpopular amOv-g his associates
and made friends with all the Indians with
whom he came in contact, soon acquiring per-
fect command of their language, to which he
took naturally, and in a short time being called
“ brother ” b the young men and “son ” by the
more aged ndians—ierms of friendship they
only bestowrad upon those whom they like and
who have their entire confidenc-.

CHAPTER VI.
LOST IN A SNOW STORM.

THE time passed pleasantly enough at the
Agency and Gordon, as the days wore on, be-
came thoroughly familiar with the Indian mau-
ners and customs. and extremely intimate with
the young men, hunting and fishing in their
company and traveling all over the Territory
with them.

He was soon initiated into all their secret rites
and on more than one occasion assisted at their
scalpdances, when he was the only outsider in
the room, this. being a secret dance and white
persons not being admitted to witness it.

He also attende their Doctor, Medicine,
Pony, Buffalo and Cow dances. after participa.
ting and dancing with the Indians as if he were
one of them, besides joinin them in playing
Moccasin and other games 0 chance and skill.

He learned the Sign language rapidly and
thoroughly and soon found no trouble in con-
versing with the different tribes, the result being
that he made many friends among them.

“Spotted Horse,” who was shot and killed by
a United States Marshal shortly nf.er Gordon
arrived in the Territory, or Nation, as it is
sometimes called. was a warm friend of young
Lillie, although their first meeting was a hostile
one.

While cam ing on Bear Creek, Gordon met
him. Spott Horse came up to the boy and
gruffiy accosting him said:

“ I am poor: the white boy is rich.

“ He must. give that suit of clothes he wears
to my son, who is With me.”

Gordon naturally demurred, for he did not
care to part with his outfit, and replied:

“No, I will not; for I need them myself."

“ But my boy needs them more than you do.

“You have money and can buy others; but
the Great Father, at Washington has givrn me
no money for two Years.

“ Do you know who I am 1” -

“ I do not.

“ Who are you?”

“I am S otted Horse, chief of the Kit-lab
hooks" (one nd of the Pawnees).

“ All white people know‘me and fear me.

“ If you do not give me those clothes right
awav. I will kill you!” ’

“ Spotted Horse,” replied Gordon, “ I have

 

. often heard the white people talk of you, and I

know that many persons fear you.
“ But I do not.
I will not give you these clothes, and I know
1 not kill me."

 

And turning on his heel the boy started 10

walk 01!, and leave the chief, with whom he ~V

did not wish to have any trouble or any further
conversation.

But Spotted Horse called him back, and as
the llad turned toward him the Indian spoke
again: ‘

"No, you are brave, like the Pawnees and I
will not harm you, but will be your friend.

“I Want you to be my brother.

“ Will on?”

“ Yes, will always be your brother, and we
will never have any more trouble."

And‘ then, giving the chief a shirt and some
stoekings and one or two other articles of dress
that he could dispense with, he added:

“ "hese are pledges of friendship.”

“Little Bear," replied the chief of the Kit-
ka-hocks, “ I will be glad to have you come to
my lodge.

“ It shall always be your home.”

And the two cemented the friendship with a
warm grasp of the hand, and from possible
entmies became the closest intimates.

Gordon met him many times afterward and
invariably found him pleased to see the boy,
ulways calling him his brother and treating
him as such.

Whenever Gordon visited his lodge, which
was often, Spotted Horse never failed to give
him his best luf‘l‘alovrobes to sit upon, while the
squaws hastened to set before the boy the best
they had in the way of provisions, wl ich lie
cgulél not refuse without offending the sensitive
c u .

And although he was what is called a. “ bad
Indian ” and many persons, both white ‘and
Pawnee, as well as members of neighl'orirg

.lribes rejoiced at his death, Gordon was very

much grieved to learn of it, for the Indian had
always been a true red brother to the loci, and,
despite his faults, the boy loved him.

Through the influence of White Eagle. chief '
of the Skeedee band of Pawnees (upper class),
and others of his Indian friends, Gordon was
induced to allow his hair to grow long. ,

“Little Bear, my son,” said White Eagle to
him, one day while the were talking together,
“ you are very much li e the Pawnees.

“ You talk their language, wear moccasins _. . .

and buckskin, and have many ways like theirs.
“Why is it you do not let your hair grow

long as mine and that of yourrother brothers is?” _ .

He replied that he would some time soon, and
the conversation dropped.

But a day or two afterward Night Owl, an—
other intimate friend of Gordon, broached the
subject to him again. ,

“ Why do you not let your hair grow like
mine?"

His looks just swept his shoulders. '

" Night Owl, I will not cut my hair for a year
if you will agree to let yours grow for the same
length of time.”

“ It is agreed,” returned the Indian and they
struck hands on the bargain,since which time
Gordon’s hair has been allowed to grow as it
would, and now sweeps down over his shoulders
in a golden flood which is the admiration and
envy of all who see it, both youths and maidens.

And thus he became completely Indianized,

\
i

  

 

 

 

12

   

resembling the Pawnees in dress, in manner, in
customs and in language and becoming thor-
oughly identified with them.

He remained in charge of the school for about
tWO years and then resigned and went to the
State line for a short time, but soon returned
to the Agenc and re-entered the Government
Service, this time as assistant or secretary to the
age’nt and also acting as interpreter, a position

,vhe could fill thoroughly as he had acted as
school interpreter during the last six months of

his connection with It.

During the winter of 1880, Gordon, in com-

any with a friend, started on a week’s visit to

Bis former home, and in the early morning
set out from the Agency much against the advice
of all, for it was bitter cold and the gray sky
above gave evidence of a coming snow-storm
should the weather moderate.

And so it proved, for as noon approached the
whiteflikes began to drift down until finally
they were completely shut in by‘ the whirling
mass as the wind rose and blew the fleecy par~
ticles before it.

And soon they lost their way, for the wind
shifted a dozen times and they were at a loss to
know in which direction their destination lay,
but were compelled to keep moving for fear of
succumbing to the intense drowsiness which
weighted down their eyelids like lead so great
was the cold.

And finally they became separated—bow
neither of them ever knew, and Gordon, lead-
ing his horse, for the poor brute was utterly
exhausted, staggered on an on until the day?
faded out and darkness settled down over the
white plain.

But presently he came to a. little gully, the
banks of which were high enough to shelter him
and his horse from the piercing blast, and re-
moving the saddle and brldle, he crouched low
under the overhanging bank, wrapping himself
cl nier in the saddle‘blanket, whi e the horse
stood with bowed head, shivering with cold as
he too sought the shelter of the bluff.

And as the darkness came on the wolves, ren-
dered furious by the long fast that they had
undergone, g ithered close and closer about him,

. snapping and snarling at each other. while the

gaunt, gray forms stond .out spectral against
the wide background behind them made by the
sheet of snow which enveloped and covered the
whole face of nature.

But as they drew closer and closer, Gordon's
revolver flashed its red flame out on the dark-
ness of the night and, as one of the wolves fell,
his companions leaped upon him, and before he
was yet dead tore huge mouthfuls from the yet
quivering flesh, as they growled and iought
over the remains.

And all through the night Gordon fought
against the slumber which overpowered him
and against the pack of tarnished wolves. shoot:-
ing again and again, with varying success, and
whenever his aim was true, seeing the victim of
his bullets torn into a. thousand morsels and in-

- stantly devoured.

But at the first streak of dawn the gaunt

i creatures fled, and Gordon, catching the east by

the faint light which stole over it, mounted his
horse and rode in a southwesterly direction

 

Gordon Lillie.

through the piled up masses of fleec whiteness
for the snow had ceased, the win had lulled
and his progress was easy compared to “I’ll; of
the preceding evening, while all around was as
still as death. not a sound breaking the silence
while the solitude was awful in its loneliness.

But soon his practiced eye caught sight of an
object outlined against the snow-covered latri-
scape, and as he drew near he recognized his
companion’s horse, while a little mound near by
showed where he had fallen while the white
shower had covered him as with a winding-
sheet.

In a moment he was alongside and. brushing
away the show had lifted his friend’s body from
beneath it, and, placing the inanimate form
across the other horse he remonnted and set out
again across the prairie, far over which he saw
a thin, black streak arising, and knew it must be
smoke from some camp fire or dwellin .

And in a half an hour or so he pulled up in
front of a stage—ranch, and carrying his frozen
burden inside, soon was applying restorations
to him, which in due time had their effect, and
the young fellow opened his eyes to conscious-
ness and life.

And then Gordon, taking a. hot cup of coffee ,

which the man in charge of the ranch prepared
for him, learned that they had strayed nearly
twenty miles out of their way, and that, in-
stead of being to the north and east of the
Agency, the were to the south and east. so
confused be they become and so aimlessly had
they drifted about on the prairie.

Profiting by their experience the two friends
remained at the station for several days, until
they snow had disappeared and then thanking
the man in charge, who refused all pay, they
set out over the stage-road on their journey.

No further adventures befall them and in a
day or two Gordon was once more at his former
home, where he was made much of and warm-
ly greeted and Welcomed by all who knew

1m

And he was met at the depot by his old friend
the driver, who seemed never to tire of looking
at him and asking him questions, While Ben
Wilson, his former chum, now grown to be a.
perfect giant, nearly wrung his hand off, so
glad was he to see him again.

 

CHAPTER VII.
STOPPING A RUNAWAY.

A PLEASANT visit was Gordon’s at his old
home and he was urged to remain longer than
the week he had allotted for his absence; but
his heart was in the Indian country and he
would not rolong his stay.

On the ay before he left Bloomingtou, he
walked out with Ben Wilson into the country
and soon came to “The Hole” where, a few
years before they had both had such a narrow
escape from drowning, and stood there looking
at the frozan stream, and talking of the days

one bv. '

“ If I had had this, Ben,” said Gordon, swing-
ing in his hand a long hair rope with which he
had been lassoing various objects that morning
to show the boys how it was used. and which he;

 

 

 

 

§.,.n>mr mm. 3,

 

 

 

 

    

 

 

 

 

 

“anew. twinge» «as.

am“ ' » sour..."-

Gordon Lillie. I is '

 

had not thought to leave at the house, “ I
would have yanked myself out in a hurry; that
is if I had one end and some one on the bank
the other.”

“ Why, Gord, I shouldn’t think that was
strong enough to bear any strain."

“ Oh, you’re 'way wrong,” returned his
friend. “ l’ve roped many a steer with it, and,
taking a turn around my saddle-horn, stopped
him, too."

“ should think it would be awful hard.”

‘ Much easier than to catch anything stand-
ing still, for you have only to throw the loop in
front of the animal, and he generally runs into
it, head first.”

And as Gordon spoke he skillfully tossed the
lasso over a stamp standing in the field, thirty
feet away from them, and jerking the rope,
tightened the noose about the bark. ‘

“ Here, Ben, throw your weight against this,”
he said, handing the end he held to Wilson.

His companion took the rope as requested,
and holding it firmly, leaned back with all his
tremendous weight, but the horse hair lasso
stood the test nobly and did not yield an inch.

“It’s a beauty, Gord, and I believe it would
be a good thing for policemen to have to stop
runaway horses with.’ .

“ Yes, if they were in practice."

“Well, they could have a lasso drill every
day, and all it needs is practice.”

‘ Combined with a true eye and hand.”

“ Of course."

“ Well, when you get to be mayor you can
suggest it to the police commissioners.”

“Hanged if I don’t!” replied the young at-
torney so earnestly that Gordon burst out
laughing.

“ Wei , stranger things have happened.”

“Yes, and doubtless will.”

“ I wish your future honor all the good things
that be can wish I” ,.

“ Thank you, my Pawnee friend‘ by the way,
Gordon, I should think that you'd be tired of
that life.”

“Tired? Never 1”

“ Well, we’ll see; but come on, we must get
back to the city, and the first policeman I meet
1’“ ask him what he thinks of mylariat scheme.

“ You must show him how simple it is to
catch anything that you want to take in— But
what is that?" he asked suddenly as a. wild
shriek came floatin over the air.

“ Let’s hurry an see.“

And the two bo s, running as fast as they
could, sprung into t a road, just as a maddened
horse, drawing a light cutter, dashed down the
road toward them, while a lady seated in the
sleigh, and clasping a little child close in her
arms, uttered scream after scream. '

Just beyond where the boys were standing
was the creek, with high banks, and it was
more than probable that the horse would dash
into it, if he did not smash the light sleigh to
pieces against the sides of the bridge.

He was completely beyond controlnfor the
head stall had given way and the bridle had
slipped off of his head and hung only by the
c eck.

As Ben saw the danger of the occupants of the
sleigh, he sprung to the middle of the road and

 

braced himself for the shock, but sprung back
as Gordon cried out:

“ There’s nothing to catch him by—stund
away, l’ll rope him!” »
And leaping to the side of the road, the boy
stood until the flying steed was almost opposite
him, when he lauched his lariat and the circling
nooae, whirling in the air, settled down over
the horse’s head onto his shoulders, and then, in
obegi'ence to a quick pull, tightened about his

nec .

As he jerked the rope, Gordon passed the end
he held twice around the trunk of a small tree
just beside him, and held his end firmly, and as
the rope tautened, the horse was jerked clean
off his feet, and fell as if shot.

His neck had been broken by the sudden
strain, and all danger to the occupants of the
cutter was over, although they were thrown
out, but fell unhurt on the yielding snow. V

The lady and child were assisted to rise by *
the two young mm, and found to be safe, with
the exception of the shock and a minor bruise
or two which were of small importance, while
she, realizing how narrow had been her escape,
as she shudderineg recalled the impetuous rush
of the horse and saw the steep banks that were_
so short a distance away, burst into a thousand

expressions of gratitude, thanking Gordon over '

and over again.  .

And he endeavored in vain to check the tor—
rent of words and told her that what he had
done was nothing, and only what any one also
could have accomplished.

But she stopped. ‘

“ We owe it to your skill and courage, and
coolness that we were not dashed to pieces.

“ For as I saw that we were approaching the
creek, I gave up and believed that only a
miracle could save us. .

“ What wonderful nerve you (xhibited, when
you knew that two human lives probably do-
pended on your catching my horse."

Gordon endeavored to laugh the inattrr awa , >

but during the entire walk back to town, t e
lady continued to ring his praises in his ears and
would only allow him to leave her when he had
given his name and address that her husband
might call and thank him.

“ Tell you what it is, Gord,” said Ben, as the
two walked away together.

“I’m more than ever determined to ash in;
project of equipping the police with assoes.
And meeting the local reporter of the Evening
Budget, he stopped him and gave him a vivid
and glowing account of the late adventure.

So. befbre long, the news was spread all over
the city, and Gordon found himself once more
the hero of the day; while many clothes-lines
were surreptitiously removed y numerous
small boys who spent the evening in practicing
at all kinds of marks.

And many an unfortunate pig, accidentally
lassoed, was yanked about by the hind-leg“
squealing, by his triumphant captors.

And that evening the husband of the lady '

called to thank Gor on, and brought with him
a magnificent gold watch and chain, which be
forced the boy to accept, des ‘te his urgent pro-
tests to the contrar ,only egging in return
the hair rope, whic

rwsm.

Gordon willineg gave .

 

l
i .

 

 

 

 

 

scanty meal. after which they

14 I Gordon Lillie.

 

 

him, and which, to—day, forms one of the rin-
cipal ornaments of his parlor and is one 0 his.
most cherished treasures.

But the next day, despite the earnest requests
which he received from all sides, to remain
for a short time longer, after shaking hands
with his numerous friends, Gordon left Bloom-
ington and set out on his way to the Indian

Territor

Reaching the Territorial line without further
adventure, he engageda freighter to take him
the eighty miles which lay between him and the
A ency, and started off.

‘hey had gone but a short distance when the

,teamster, turning to Gordon, said:

“Suppose we cut across the country and
strike the trail; it will save as five miles."
“It you think we can get through with the

{ wagon, go ahead!"

“ in course we kin git through.”

“ Are you sure?"

“Sure?” '

U Yes.”

“WellJ done it a couple 0’ weeks ago, an’
reckon I kin do it ag’in."

“ Crack your whip and drive on your wagon
then; I’m game for anything.”

“The creeks is froze, an’ we kin go through
all 0. K, 1’” bet a dollar."

“ Shoot ahead!” 9

And they started over the prairie without fur-
ther delay. it being then a little after seven
o’clock in .the morning, and. the sky being
clou-ied, they had no sun to guide them.

Within a couple of hours it began to snow so
hard ihat they could not see, and Gordon rc-
called, with dismay, his experience of a short
time before, and wondered if it was to be re-
peated.

The snow came from the south, in which di-
rection they were traveling, and the guided
themxelves by the wind; butit change without
their being aware of if, and veering around
gradually, completely deceived them, so that
soon they were entirely bewildered, and came
to the conclusion that they were lost.

Yet they struggled on until about two hours
after dark, when they reached the Silt Fork,
tired and hungry, for they had been run-

'--ning and walking all day to keep from freez-

mg.

They had no provisions. for they had expected
to have been able to get their meals at the stage
ranches, and had laid in no supply.

But they built a huge log fire, and camped
for the night, neither of them sleeping much,
and alternately watching the fire.

At length, however, the day broke, and try-
ing the ice, they found that it was something
over a foot thick, and through this they had to
break, in order to allow their/ horses to drink,

, and then parching a little of the grain carried

by the freighter for his team they made a
hitched up and
prepared to breakrcamp.

But suddenly Gordon. who had been Watch-
ing a dark spot on the plain. which gradually
grew la er and larger, motioned to his com-
panion to sit a moment.

“ What’s the matter?” growled the freighter.
tenderedili—humored by the cold that pierced

l

 

him through and through, and the pangs of bun~
ger which now gnawed at his Vitals.

“ India us!” replied the lad.

“ \Vell, what i f it?

“Ain’t they all friendly?”

“ Not always.”

“ When ain’t they?"

‘.‘ When they are Osages, and have just lost a

let.
“ That is an Osage ‘ Hair Party ’1”

CHAPTER VIII.
THE HAIR—HUNTERS.

WHEN a chief of the Osage Indians dies,
thev form ban is of horsemen, who start out in
difl! vrent din-ctions, scouring the country, north,
east, west and south, which bands are known
as “Hair Parties.”

These “ Hair Parties ” ride about in search of
any one they may encounter, and, capturing
them, they cut their hair oi! with knives, not
scalping them but merely severing their locks
close to their heads.

All is fish that comes to their nets, and they
treat every one, white or Indian, in the same
manner, and this arbitrary proceeding often
causes much trouble with the Pawnees, for they
are only forty miles to the northeast of the
Pawnee Agency. '

By their dress Gordon could distinguish that
the band which was now approaching belonged
to the Osage tribe, while by various insignia and
trappings the wore he was enabled to judge
that they be oneed to a “hair party,” and
realized that if they were not prevented bpth
he and his companion would soon be shorn of
thi ir flowing tresses.

And although the boy had only worn his hair
long for alittle over two years, at he felt as
mlk‘h‘pl‘ide in preserving it asi it had nevnr
felt the edge of theshears, and so determined to
defend himself at all hazards from the attacks
of the band.

The horses were hastily unharnessed again,
and led back some distance into the wood, and
then Gordon, taking his rifle, advenced to the
edge of the stream, and as the band of warriors
rode up on the opposite bank, be using the sign
language, motioned to them to stop and asked
what. they wanted.

The conversation that ensued. although car
ried on entirely by signs, was easily understood
by both parties and was translatable as follows.

“ What do you want?" was the first question

ch

.propounded bv the boy.

“ Lea ing Panther. our great chief. has gone
to the appy Hunting‘Grounds, and we seek
the flowing locks of the Pawnee.

” We have met none of that tribe and will
not return empty-handed.

“The white boy and his friend must not
resist. for it will be all the worse for them."

“ You have no right to be of! your reserva-
tion and will surely be punished.

“I will not, nor will my companion, submit
to this outrage.

“I warn you to keep away, for ’we will de«
fend ourselves." ,

“The white boy is foolish; we will come and
take what we want."

“ Then come on i”

 

I: _
i
a
i

 who r.

 

A

..—"";

 

 

 

‘ '5 ~32:

H w w

A ._...5,“_.i.,,.

 

 

 

 

 

Gordon Lillie.

15

 

The warrior who had been carrying on this
interview with Gordon, then turned to his com-
panions and said a few Words to them, when
suddenly, with a wild yell, the whole band ap-
plied their stinging uirts to their horses, and
urging them forwa leaped down upon the
snow and ice-covered surface of the frozen
stream, and came galloping toward them at a
furious pace.

“Aim only at their horses, Dick!” shouted
the ho to the freighter, and at his words, the
two ri es cracked in unison, and two of the mus-
tangs rolled over on the snow, while the rest of
band kept riding on in their impetuous course.

Barricaded behind the wagon, Gordon and
Dick repeated the fiery salutation and another
horse fell, pinning his red rider to the ground
beneath him, having fallen across the Indiau’s
legs before the latter could throw himself to
one side.

And in an instant more the savages were
upon them, and they were in the midst of the
bowling mob, standing with clubbed rifles, and
dealing blows right and left, and keeping the
Indians at bay, for some time.

The savages did not try to injure them, for
their endeavor was to obtain the hair from their
heads without otherwise harming ,them, while
Gordon and Dick withheld their fire, [Db caring
to shed any blood. t

The boy had leaped into the wagon-bed, and
from here hammered blows on all sides, and the
butt of his rifle, encountering more than one
skull, had brought several of the riders to the
ground, where they lay half-stunned and com-
pletely out of the fight.

But just then a howl of rage uttered by Dick
fell on his ears, and turning, he could not sup-

ress his laughter as he saw the freighter danc-
ing about like a madman, while the short bris-
tles standing up over his head showed that his
hai r had been shorn close to his scalp;3

One of the men whose horses had en shot at
the first onslaught, had risen, and gliding
between the str ling mustangs, had slipped u
behind Dick, get cred his long hair deftly in his
left hand, and then, with a circular sweep of
his right, which held a knife, had cut the locks
of! as cleanly as if a first—class barber had done
the job.

But the Indian’s excitation was short-lived;
for, while the rest of the band were gazin with
stolid countenances and stoical satisfaction at
the trophy which the red—man waved in the air,
Gordon, who was far above the man on foot,
leaned from his ilion in the wagon, and
catching the raVIsher of Dick’s locks by the
seal lock, sent the razor~like blade of his own
kn' 8 about the roots with a quick turn of the
Wrist, and in a moment more the long black
braid, of a coarseness like a horse’s mane, was
lifted high in the air, while the disc'omflted sav~
age roared with fury.

“Diamond cut diamond i” laughed the boy;
and then, stuffing the hair into the bosom of his
hunting-shirt, he dropped hisvrifle into the bot-
tom of the wagon, and leaping astride of a mus-
tang near by, he clung to the waist of the aston-
ished rider; and then, gently touching the horse
in the flanks with the point of his knife, sent
the uflrighted steed bounding through the woods,

 

whil: the rest of the band looked on in astonish-
men .

As the horse—a powerful animal, which
seemed scarce to feel the weight of his double
burden=—sped off up the bank of the Salt Fork,
Gordon kept kicking his heels into his flanks un-
til the terrified steed fairly flew over the ground;
and then, clinging by his legs, the lad grasped the
top-knot of the chief, and before he could do
anything to prevent, had added a second trophy
to his other prize, when the horse, suddenl
turning, threw the ' ‘ ed and demoralize
Indian far out onto theme—which just here was
very thin——and he broke through without injur-
{:1 gbhimself, and escaped at the expenee of a cold

at .

Gordon’s escape from being swept 03 by the
overhanging branches of the trees, as the horse
dashed t rough 1hem, was something wonder-
ful; but he at length succeeded in checking the
animal, and then turning his head, rode back to
where Dick was still battling with the Indians.
but now with only his clinched fists, for he had
been disarmed and could have recourse to noth-
ing but nature’s weapons.

But as Gordon, again increasing the speed of
his horse, rode down upon them, knocking them
right and left, his long, olden hair streaming
in the breeze, shaking alollt the black tresses of
the chief and yelling like a demon, they scat-
tered and fled. leaving the lad and his companion
in possession of the field.

The Osages only stopped long enough to pick
up their dismounted companions, and then sped
away over the prairie completely discomflted,
and soon disappeared. -‘

And while Gordon sat at his ease on his cap-
tured steed, with one leg thrown carelessly over
the withers of the panting animal, gazing alllhe
woe-begone countenance of Dick, 11 whisfle rung
out on the still air, and the horse, in obedience
to the well-known summons, flung his heels high,
throwing Gordon headlong onto the snow, and
then, galloping off, rejoined his master, who
quickly mounted and sped away in the direc-
tion taken by his fleeing companions.

Picking himself up, Gordon submitted quietly
to the sarcasms showered on him by the freight-
er, and acknowledged that it was only fair that
he should, in turn, he laughed at; but told Dick
that long, before the latter’s hair had grown he
would have forgotten all about Gordon’s mis-

ha .

'llhen the team was once more harnessed up,
and. crossing the frozen Salt Fork, stopping for
a moment to secure the bridles from the dead
mustangs, they being curiously plaited and in-

terwoven with many odd devrces, they prcr

ceeded on their journey, and, by ten o’clock,
had found the trail from which the snow had
been blown in places, leaving it bare and easily
discernible.

About three o’clock that afternoon they haul-
ed up at Walker’s Ranch, on Big Greasy and
there gbt all the food he had prepared, and be—
ing decidedly sharp-set after their long fast,
ate heartily and with the greatest relish.

After resting themselves and their horses for
a short time, they again set out and traveled
steadily until nine o’clock that night, when they
re ached the Pawnee agency, which was only

a».
\

 
   

 

 

 

 

 

I6 Gordon Lillie.

eighteen miles from Walker’s, but so heavy was
the hauling they had only been able to make
the distance in that time.

Gordon'was warmly welcomed by the agent,
and, although he had only been gone a short
time, was very glad to get buck among the
friends who loved him, and whom he liked so
well, and to the life which suited him far better
than any that he had ever experienced.

A good night’s rest completely restored him,
and the next day he felt entirely recovered,
and to an admiring crowd he related his ad-
venture in Bloomington, and his encounter with
the Osages on the Salt Fork.

During the evening he called at the lodge of
one of the old chiefs who gladly bade him enter
and who placed at his disposal his finest robes
and ordered the squaws to set before his son,
Little Bear, the best that the larder afiorded.

And then. after they had suppod, they drew
around the fire and story succeeded story, until
far into the night, when, as Gordon was about
to leave, the robe which hung before the en—
trance to the but was dashed violently aside,
and a young warrior leaped into the lodge,
trembling like an aspen and his face of a ghastly
bus which denoted the terror that held him in
its thralls.

Speaking in Pawnee, without stopping to sa-

. lute Gordon, and apparently without noticing

him, the young man spoke, addressing his
father:

“ I have seen the Wild Hunter!”
' “Impossible—he has not been heard of for

‘ many. many moons,” returned the old chief,

incredulously.

“ But I met him tonight, on Black Bear " (the
stream on which the Pawnee Agency is sit-
uate'd) “ and was as close to him as you are to
ma.

“ What happened?"

“I struck at him with my knife, but the
blade turned aside, and with a hollow laugh, he
disa cared in the trunk of a tree near by.”

“ y son, you have been dreaming. Go to
ales and try and dream better things.

“ on come "—to Gordon—“to-morrow;' for
it is late now, and I will tell you the legend of
the Wild Hunter. Good—night, my son.”

And Gordon, leaving the lodge, returned to
the Agency, his mind full of the legends he had
heard, and almost expecting to meet some spec-
tral apparition during his lonely walk.

But nothing appeared, and he was soon sleep
ing a sound and dreamless sleep, that lasted un«
broken until daybreak.

CHAPTER IX.
THE LEGEND or THE WILD HUNTER.
THE next evening Gordon was again seated
in the lodge of White Eagle, where he found
Ni ht Owl, the young Indian who had said that
he ad’seen the Wil Hunter the night before,

, and the old chief,'slowly finding his pipe, be-

gan to relate the legend he ad promised, in his
native tongue:

“Nearly a hundred snows ago, there roamed
these forests an Indian, who, although he was
not a chief, was acknowledged as a leader by
all the members of the tribe to which he be

 

longed.
} . _ WV

4

“ He excelled in all matters of woodcraft and
was expert be end all of his companions in the
chase, in whic he was always accompanied by
two enormous gray wolves that he had trained,
having captured them while they were yet very
young.

“ And he was in high favor with the
head chief, who proclaimed his intention of
adopting him and bequeathing to him the chief-
tainship of the tribe; but at this the young
men naturally rebelled, and from admiring,
they redual y became jealous of, him, and
plotte together to ruin the young favorite, but
without avail, for all their efforts were useless
and rather resulted in his advantage.

“ But one day the chief, in company with
White Wolf, as he was called, was hunting,
when they came upon a huge stag with branch-
ing antlers, and to him they gave chase, and so
fast and furious was their speed that they soon
outstripped their companions and left them far
behind, only the chief and White Wolf continu-
ing the chase.

“At length the deer, drivsn to desperation,
stood at bay, and, lowering his antlers, gored
the chief’s horse so severely that it reared and,
falling back. threw its rider to the ground, and
in another moment would have buried his horns
in. the body of the dismounted Indian, "when
White Wolf, flin ing himself from his horse,
received the stro e, and, although desperately
wounded, raised himself slightly, and plunged
his knife into the stag’s heart.

“ As he lay there, suflering, while ’the chief
gazed upon him with the utmost concern, their
companions rode‘up, and seeing in what sore
stress the favorite was, could scarce contain
their exultation, but they pretended the deepest
sympathy, yet offered no consolation.

“ The wound is mortal,’ said they, ‘ and
naught can save himl’

“ But at these words a tall, fantastically—dress-
ed man, mounted on a powerful horse, rode
into their midst, sprung to the turf, and ad-
vanced toward the wounded man.

“ ‘ Who says naught can cure him?’ he asked
in a harsh, imperious voice.

“ ‘ I can cure him and will, on one condition.’

“ ‘ Name it.’ returned the chief, eagerly, ‘ and
though it took half my possessions it is yoursl’

“ ‘ I ask no gifts; my condition is that you ask
no qpestions, nor seek to follow me when I de-
part.

“ ‘ Granted; and now show your skill.’

“ Without a further word the unknown knelt
by the quarry, and takin a huge. keen-ed ed
hunting-knife from his be t, cut 03 the hea of
the stag 'ust'at the base of the skull and then
cut a slit rom lip to throat.

“ And while the chief and the warriors looked
on in astonishment, wondering what all this
might mean, he turned to the wounded man
an said: .

“ ‘This must be bound on his head, and in a
month’s time he will be cured.’

“Despite his incredulity the chief ordered
that all should be done as the unknown wished,
and the skull was firmly bound on White Wolf’s
head with buckskin thongs, when the unknown
lifted him carefully in his arms, and bounding

, on his horse, cried to the Indians:

 “7'79?

, «Wham, ..

his...” »,._ . _.., . 

«nume‘g: .

amassed 

it”.

,go

A.“ . or,  - ., ,   

Gordon Lillie. 17

x

“ ‘ In a month‘s time I will return with him,
cured,’ and before they could stop him, he was

ne.
“ But one of the young braves followed rapid—
1y after him, while the chief cried:

“ ‘Trace him to his lair, Moose-Deer, and
brin us word of his whereabouts.’

“ nd turning away the chief rode off to his
Wigwam, followed by the others.

‘ Seeing that he was followed, the mysterious
interloper checked his steed and allowed the
gther to approach, when Moose-Dear accosted

im.

“ ‘ What interest have you in this man?’

“ ‘None,’ replied the other.

“ ‘ Then why do you take so much trouble?

“ ‘ For my own ends.’

“ ‘ And they are?’

t -“ "What will you give me to cause his down-
all?

“ ‘ I have but little.’

“ ‘Promise me to give me a sacrifice.

“‘Promisetokill the first living thing you
meet, after leaving here, as a sacrifice, and I
will so arrange matters that you. shall take
White Wolf’s place.’

“ ‘ I promise.’

“ ‘ Enough. I will keep faith with the chief,
and this man will recover; but he will lose all
his craft and skill as a hunter. Begonel’

“And Moose-Deer, returned on his solitary
way, and riding along, soon saw, coming to-
ward him, a horse, walking slowly, but far
over the plain, and he congratulated himself
that here was the sacrifice that he was to of-
fer; but-at that moment the bushes alongside
were suddenly parted and a oung girl came
bounding toward him—his we l-beloved daugh-

ter.

“And,hisiheart full of jealousy of White
Wolf, and full of fear of the mysterious stian-
ger, he drew to the head the arrow he had al-
ready fitted to his bow, and the shaft, glancing
like a ray of light, buried itself deep in the
bosom of the fair child.

“ And in a. moment she fell dead, with a soft
pathetic look in her eyes like a stricken fawn,
while he, not turning back, hurried on to the
village, where he reported that White Wolf was
comfortably lodged and was well cared for.

“At the exact time promised White Wolf
presented himself alone to the chief looking
thin and haggard, but entirely out of danger,
and was welcomed more warmlg than ever by
the chief, who almost regarded im as one risen
from the dead.

“But about a week after his return, White
Wolf. having entirely recovered his strength,
accompanied the chief on another hunting
expedition, and they had hardly set out when
his horse shied and threw him.

“U to that time nothing of the sort had
ever ap ned to him, for he was a perfect
rider, an he got up much discomfited, while
Moose-Deer looked at him maliciously, and
when they started a deer, 6nd at len th suc-
ceeded in killing it, White Wolf was eft far
behind. although mounted better than even the
chief himself. _

“And shortly afterward, getting a fair shot
atabuck scarce thirty yards on, he ruled his

 

bow and let the arrow fly; but it missed its
mark. and the deer dashed off unharmed.

“ ‘ You are out of practice, my son.7 said the
chief' ‘ but you shall have another trial.

“‘l3ring me down you eagle,’ pointing to a
bird not far off.

“And as he spoke, the arrow sped, but it
quivered in the trunk of the tree, some distanCe
from the mark, and the unfortunate shooter
looked distracted, while the brow of the chief
clouded.

“ ‘You must regain your skill, White Wolf,’
said he, ‘or you never can hope to be chief of
the Pawnees.’

“Moose—Deer kept his own counsel and did
not divulge his secret to any one, and having
buried the body of his daughter. passed hours
in a pretended search for her, While we village
rung with his lamentations.

“The next day White Wolf went out alone:
but, ractice as he would, he found that he had
lost is cunning with bow and arrow, while he

had no control over either his horse or his '

trained wolves.

“And when he again hunted with the chief he
become the laughingstock of all.

“The chief at length dismissed him, saying:

“‘Take a week for practice and then we will
see: but if you then do no better, some one else
must succeed you as future cliief.’

“ White Wolf answered not a word, but rode
off wildly, but returned at evening with ghastly
looks and strange appen rance, for he bore, fixed
like a cap on his head, the antlered skull of the
stag he had killed, and which had formerly
been bound about his head. ‘

“ His every action shOvred that he was crazy,
and all but his jealous companions pilied him,
yet they only jeered and scoffed, and, after
committing the wildest exiravagances he burst
from all restraint, and, plunging into the forest,
he disappeared. '

“ And of all the young men who were install-
ed in his place, not one of them retained their
cunning—all their shafts went wide of the
mark; all of their hounds lost their scent, all of
their horses their speed. \

“ And the seasons came and went and the old
chief died and none saw or heard of White
Wolf, save now and then a belated wanderer in
the woods, who claimed to, have met a tall,
weird-looking figure with antlered skull, who
approached mysteriously and disappeared in
the same way \\ henever any one drew near the
spot where Moose-Deer had slain his daughter.

“ For afflicted with remorse and a prey to a
mysterious disease which tormented him, and
baffled the skill of the medicine-man, he had
confessed all, and said that at night he was
forced to leave his couch and hunt in the forest
with White Wolf.

“ And “henever they had killed a deer, the
Wild Hunter forced him to cut 05 its head and
then look in its face, which invariably turned
into the much loved and l itterly mourned fea-
tures of his murdered daughter.

“But no one had seen or heard anything of
the Wild Hunter for years. until lbs evening
before when Night Owl had burst upon them
will} the assertion that he had encountered him.
- “ And this is the legend of the ‘ Wild Hunter},

 

 

 

18 Gordon Lillie.

 

my son, and may you never meet him, for the
meeting always bodes ill."

And then silence fell upon the lodge, and Gor‘
don sat there, in the dim light of the fire, scarce
putting any faith in this tradition of the Pew-
nees, born of superstition, yet half-expecting to
see the untlered helm peering through the
crevices in front of him.

And he made up his mind that when the
weather became settled he would iivestigate,
this matter and see it there were anything in
the vision which Night Owl pretended .0 have
witnessed. , .

So rising, he left the lolge, and proceeded
leisurely along the banks of Black Bear, when
suddenly without a sound, a dark form ap-
proached him from the wo>d. and as he drew
nearer he could distinguish a huge black horse,
bearing on its back a tall form.

And outlined against the sky he could dis
tinguish the branching antlers it wore on its
head, when drawing his revolver, he was about
to challenge the intruder; but suddenly the
horse gave a loud snort, the apparition was lit
up by abrilliant flash of blue flame and as a
sulphurous smoke filled his nestrils, the rider
vanished, while two ghostly forms, looking like
two gray wolves, dashed by Gordon‘s feet and
followed the ghostly rider.

Then all was once more quiet, and the lad,
’half-terrifled and wholly puzzled, hastened to
the Agency and to bed, where he dreamed all
sorts of wonderful things about blue . fire,
ghostly visitors, black horsss and slaughtered
maidens.

 

CHAPTER X.
THE CREEK OUTBREAK.

ON arising in the morning, Gordon related

' what he had seen to the agent, but the latter
laughed at him, and persuaded him that he had
been the victim of his overheated imagina-
tion, which had been wrought up to an intense
filial!) by listening to the stories of old White

.0 e. ,

‘?Ha was probably testing {our incredulity,
Gordon, and seeing how far excould go and
how,much you would swallow.”

. “ But I saw him,” persisted Lillie, “and
coughed for an hour from inhaling the sulphur-
ous smoke."

“ More likely your lungs were affected by the
stifling atmosphere of the lodge, and when you
came out the fresh air irritated the air pas-
Iages.”

“ Well, you may talk as you please, but what
I saw I saw, and that much I know.”

But to make the thread of my story complete,
I muit ask my readers to go back with me to
the summer of 1881, during the month of Au-
gust. when the outbreak of the Creek Indians
occurred, and during which time many whites

I were massacred.

Gordon was traveling in the Creek country,
about the middle of the month mentioned, and
with his companions had hauled camp on a
small creek, seven miles northwest of Oh—
mulga. o
' They were preparing their dinner, when

‘ they saw five Indians in full war-paint and cos-v
tame coming down the trail at a lope.

a.

 

As Soon as the Creeks—for they belonged to
that tribe—«saw the party when they drew
near the camp, they drew rein, and Gordon
thought that they intended to stop; but in-
stead, they kept riding on without saying a
word, and observing the outfit of the party
closely.

There were leaning against the wagon-wheel
two Winchester rifles and a shot-gun, the latter
having been brought along to kill small game
with—the country being full of turkeys, coons,
’posaums and other small game—while each man
wore one or two six shooters.

There were eight in the party—seven horse-
men and the man who drove the wagon con-
taining the cam outfit, and cooked—they being
on their way to exas to drive up a herd of cattle.

The Indians rode on until they had gone a
hundred or a hundred and fifty yards, and
then stopped and began talking together.

018 of them, a young buck, was riding a
large, fine horse, and Gordon, being anxious to
purchase a mount, told his companions that he
would endeavor to buyr this one.

So saying, he walked out on the prairie to—
ward the Indians, and, using the sign language,

addressed the young warrior, asking him how .

much he would take for his animal.

But the Indian made no reply, sitting stolidly
on his horse, and staring at Gordon without ex-
pressing the least intelligence on his impassive
countenance, and leading -the boy to believe
that he was not understood.

Lillie then addressed him in English, and
afterward in Pawnee, but with no better re-
sult; and Gordon, decidedly impatient, address-
ed some strong remark to the band in general
and to the young buck in particular, and turn—
ed to walk back to his friends, but had scarcely
gotten twenty paces away when a wild whoop
rung out on the air. followed instantly by the
ringing crack of a. rifle.

And as the bullet 5 ed, Gordon fell prone on
his face, While the ludians galloped off at u.
break-neck pace; and so sudden and unex-

ected had been the attack that his comrades "

ad not reached their weapons when, the In-
dians were out of range and disappearing over
the prairie.

Gordon was soon picked up, and found to be
only slightly stunned, as the bullet had just
creased his scalp, hardly tearing the skin, but
knocking him down with the shock.

It was a very close call, and the party vowed
vengeance should they be able to overtake the
Indians, and, leaving three of their comrades
with the driver to protect the camp equi age
and team. the others, numbering four an in—
cluding Gordon, started off at a hard gallop
down the trail in pursuit of the band of Creeks
who had sought Gordon’s life.

They rode hard, and when nearing Okmulga,
met a large party of horsemen, well armed,
who were about to start down the trail, and
drawing rein, the leader of the strangers ap-
proached and, saluting them, inquired:

“ Have you seen a small band of Indians?”

“ Yes,” replied Gordon.

“ When and where!"

“ About an hour ago—may be less—five miles
northwest.”

 

 

 

. 444"" ‘:

‘M‘s'an-f‘g a.

I

Gordon Lillie. 19

 

“ How many were there in the party?"

“ Five.”

“ Armed l” _

" Armed and in full war-paint and dress.”

“Boys,” said the other turning to his men
" they are the ones we’re after!

“ These Indians ” he continued, again address-
ing Gordon, “ killed a Greek oflicer and wound-
ed one or two others while resisting arrest,
and we are trying to find them.

“ Do you know which way they went?"

“ They must have eluded us in the broken
country, for we have seen nothing of them since
they tried to shoot me.” . .

Turning back with his companions, Gordon
rode along with the new-comers, relating his
late experience, and soon after, meeting the
wagon which was slowly followmg, they separ-
ated and Gordon saw the poms no more.

He often tried to find out the fate of the band
of Indians, but without success, and at length
Came to the conclusion that they had been ex-
terminated and the matter kept quiet by the
avengers of the officer and his aids.

One beautiful moonlight night. ten days
afterward, Gordon and his friends were in
camp. when the boy, who was on watch, saw
sweeping over the plains, a large party of war-
riors, who seemed unaware of the presence of
the whites in the vicinity, and Gordon, calling
one of his companions to take his place on
guard, and telling him that he was gomg to re—
connoiter, quietly mounted his horse and rode
away after the hand without disturbing his
other friends.

He knew that not far from where they camped,
about four miles away, lived an old minister
and his daughter, and fearing that it was the
intention of the Creeks—«for such he supposed
the band of warriors to be—to massacre the old
mdn and the young girl, spurred hurriedly for-
ward in his endeavor to warn them.

But he was some fifteen minutes behind the
warriors, and as he drew near the lonely cabin,
he saw a bright light leap high in the air, and
heard the wild yells of the savages as theyex—
ulted in the success of their deadly schemes. ,

Urging his horse forward, he soon swept from
the gloom of the forest into the daylight bright—
ness of the glade, in which was situated the
home of the minister, and there burst upon him
a scene of carnagi and ruin such as be had
never before witnessed in all of his varied ex-
perience.

The torch had been a plied to the cabin, and
the flames leaping big , infolded it in their
tongues of fire, while at the doorwa lay the
dead body of the old preacher, his w its looks
dabbled with re, while a small red spot on the
crown of his and showed where the scalp-lock
had been torn away. .

And in the foreground, kneeling With uplifted
hands as in prayer for mercy, was his ypung
daughter, clad all in white, while behind her,

ras ing her ion and flowing tresses in his left

an . stooda reg demon with tomahawk up-
lifted, ready to sink the keen blade crashing
into her brain.

But at that instant Gordon’s revolver cracked
and the Indian, shot through the head, reeled
and spun around, and than, utterly dazed and

, I i 

, and graze, an

 

Bewildered, turned and leaped headlong into the
ames.

Gordon, slnkingjhis spurs deep into the flanks
of his horse, sent im bounding forward like the
wind, and coming alongside the fainting girl,
checked his steed with a pull that sent him on
his haunches, leaped to the round, lifted the
girl in his arms, sprung into t e saddle without
using the stirrups, and disappeared in the forest:i
while a storm of arrows and of bullets whizze
harmlessly after him from the astonished sav-

ages.

Makin along detour he at length reached the
camp, w ere he warned his companions of the
proximity of the Indians, and advised them to
watch until morning, which they did, without,
however, being attacked.

The girl was tenderly cared for, and the next
morning was placed in safety, begging Gordon
to endeavor to get word to her brother of the
fearful fate that had befallen her father, and
of her whereabouts, that he might come to her.

And although the boy endeavored by every
means in his power to find him, he could glean
no trace of the missing man, and was forced to
the conclusion that he must also have been mur-
dered on the same fearful night.

For the girl told him that when attacked, she
and her father were sitting up, awaiting his ar-
rival, as he had promised to be with them that
evening.

And the girl went East, and the recollection
of the tragedy faded from the boy’s mind as
other and newer incidents attracted his atten-
ti0n. '

But the Indians who had figured in it were
punished severely and deservedly, for the old
minister had lived in the country for ears, and
had always been a. kind friend to the ndians.

Many and man a time be had clothed and
fed the starving ndians, and none ever came to
his door to ask, who was turned away empty-
handed. ’

And not satisfied with killing and scalpin
him. the murderous Creeks so mutilated an
disfigured his body after death that it could not
have been recognized, bad it not been known
that he lived there, and had not a few white
hairs been left clustering about his head to es—
tablish his identity beyond question.

And Gordon and his friends, proceeding on
their journey, eventuall reached Texas, and,”
taking charge of the her , started to drive them
up through the Indian Territory to the Agency.

CHAPTER XI.
A srsnrnnn.

TRAVELING slowl , the herders were well on
their way toward t elr destination, when one
day they stop ed to allow the cattle to drink
to rest, for the day was intensely
hot, and men and horses, as well as cattle, were
tired out. , ,

They were near the Pawnee reservation, being
some ten miles to the north of it, and nearin
the Oteos, who are located on a stream call
Red Rock.

The air was intenselfy still, and there was a
pervading feeling as i a thunder-storm were
about to burst u in them, and soon the sky be-
came oversptea with black clouds, and the low

 

20 Gordon Lillie.

growling of heaven’s artillery could be heard,
approaching nearer and nearer to their camp.

The cattle moved about uneasily, and the men
were kept busy, riding about and rounding
them up, as they evinced a desire to stray, when
Gordon. who was far out on the plain, turning
bu ck some stragglers, saw three persons running
over the plain toward him at full speed.

He stopped his horse, and then, turning, rode
toward the visitors, intending to stop them and
prevent a stampede, for the Texas cattle are
totally unaccustomed to the sight of a person
on foot, and easily take fright when a edes-
trian approaches them, if, indeed, they 0 not
attack him.

Gordon soon drew rein alongside the new-
comers. and saw that they were three Indian
girls of varied types of savage beauty, and
rho, at the first word he s ke, stopped short
as if for the first time rea izing their impru-
deuce.

They told him that they were Oteos and that
their ponies had taken fright at something and
galloped oil! in a bunch, leaving them ten or
twelve miles from their village, and that seeing
the camp, they had hurried toward it, fearing
the approaching thunder-storm and seeking
shelter. ,

And as they talked the curious cattle gradu»
ally drawing nearer and nearer, stood in a. semi-
circla in front of them, snifling the air uneasily,
pnwing the ground and aim ing their heads,
while they occasional] uttered a low bellow as
they looked and wonr ered at the to them curi-
ous objects before them.

And Gordon, realizing in what danger the
girls’ thoughtlessness had placed them, slipped
to the ground as slowly and quietly as he could,
and told one of the girls to mount, to take one
of her companions behind her, while the third
could grasp the horse’s mane and run along-
side, while he would endeavor to conceal him-
self behind the horse and circle around the ever
slowlyadvancing herd.

But before the girl could step forward to do
as be suggested a bright flush of lightning
sprung hissing through the air, the bolt tearing
up the turf not a hundred yards away, while a
terrific crash of thunder just overhead shook
the earth and denfenei the hearers, while at the
Same moment the flood-gates of heaven were
opened and the rain came down in torrents.

And the frightened horse, suddenly wheel-
ing, tore the bridle from Gordon’s hand and
bounded oil? over the prairie, while, as if the
thunder-clap had been a signal, the whole herd
. of cattle stampeded and came sweeping down
upon the uartette with a resistless force.

Wild w th terror, the thunder of their hoof-
boats on the quivering earth drowning the
thunder that rolled and crashed above, their
loud bellowings adding to the awful tumult,
while with lowered heads they tore along, the
fate of Gordon and of the three shrinking girls
seemed sealed; for the impetuoas course of a
swollen river could more easily have been
breasted than this awful tide stemmed and hurl-
ed back.

But the boy sprung forward and raised his re-
volver, and almost as he felt the hot breath of
the leaders, scorching from their distended nos-

 

 

“  »: y

M

trils in his face he ulled the tri ger, and the
foremost of the her crashed to t aground at
his feet, while the mad animals, opening as a
fan, divided and swept by this obstruction on
either side, while Gordon and his frail com-
panions crouched behind the shelter afforded by
the body of the dead steer.

And in a few moments his companions came
gallo ing up, and while two of them stopped to
scei the boy was alive, the rest hurried on in
pursuit of the stampeding herd, and soon over-
taking them, they turned them to the left, and
riding around kept driving them in a circle
until they finally stopped, exhausted by their
own fury. '

Gordon was found to be unhurt, while the
Indian girls were also safe, and they were soon
in comp and sheltered from the rain, while the
rest of the ho s stood guard over the cattle to
prevent their reaking away again.

And while the cock was an amused witness,
the three girls made a perfect hero out of Gor-
don, using all of the extravagant and high-
flown phrases with which their language
abounds, until he blushed like a peony with con-
fusion.

The storm ceased as suddenly as it nad arisen,
and Gordon furnishingr the girls with horses,
they set off for their village, promising to semi
the borrowed animals back in a short time, and as
it was now growing late, the cowboys decided
to remain where they were for the night, and
accordingly camped.

Within the promised time the horses were re-
turned and with them come a delegation from
the viliage, who invited Gordon and his friends
to a grand feast to be held that night in honor
of the three girls and their rescuer, for the res-
cued ‘maidens were the daughters of three of the
leading chiefs, and their fathers desired to do
honor to their preserver. .

After much coaxing the boy was persuaded
to go, and with him Went three of his com-
panions, for the night promised to be clear, and
no fears of another stampede disturbed them.

The dozen miles which intervened between
their camp and the Oreo village were soon
traversed, and Gordon rode up to the Medicine
lodge among the yells of the warriors. the shrill
screams of the squaws, the screeching of the
children, and the yelling of dogs, and his ears
were well—nigh ruptured with the internal din.

The meal was set before them consisting prin-
cipally of a dish that looked suspiciously like
boiled, or rather stewed dog, but Gordon and his
friends were not fastidious and ate heartily of
the m sterious dish.

At ength they had eaten sufiicentlv and the
pipe being produced they smoked silently for
some time until at length, the skin that closed
the entrance of the lodge was raised and the
three girls came in, each one bearing a gift for
Gordon. '

The first carried a beautifully embroided belt,
the work of her own dainty hands, and this
she presented to him with a little speech, which
embarrassed him more than it seemed to her.

The second game him apair of moccasins which
she herself had worked,while the gift of the third
was a. huntinzcap of deerskin, soft as velvet
embroidered in many colors and ornament“.

  

   

l
i
l

 

 

   
   
 
 

   

 

 

 

 

Gordon Lillie.  2 1

 

with a magnificent plume plucked from the
pinions of the war~eagle.

And then the girls stood back while the oldest
and principal chief of the tribe arose and de-
livered along harangue, in which he drewa
flattering picture of Gordon’s skill as a hunter,
his bravery and his coolness in den er,
concluding by asking him to come and ive
with, and be one of the tribe, and offering him
as his wife, either of the confused girls who
stood gigglin and tittering in the darkest; cor-
ner of the lo go.

But Gordon, in return thanked him for the

roposed honor, which he assured him it was
impossible to accept; and as for choosing a wife
from the trio of Indian beauties:

“ They are each and all so lovely and so lov-
able that I could not choose among them.”

This conclusion had a. double effect. On the
one hand it flattered the trio as such; but on
the other it rendered each of the dusky maidens
' alone of the other two, and their friendship

egan to grow weaker until at length they be—
came almost enemies.

But Gordon, escaping as quickly as he could
from the close atmosphere of the lodge, fol-
lowed by his companions, rode away under the
bright starlight and was soon in camp, won-
dering that he had gotten off so easily.

But the hearts of the Indian girls were
sore, for it was they who had suggested the
proposition of Gordon’s marrying one of them,
each being confident of her own superior at-
tractions, and when the found that they were
all rejected, hate and t e fact that thev Were
scorned drew them into an alliance, offensive
and defensive, when the bonds of friendship
would not have induced either one to seek the
aid of the others.

So they began to plot and soon formed a
scheme whereby they hoped to win, or rather
forc -, Gordon’s I: meant to the proposed change
in his life and habits. ‘

But be, all unconscious of all of these machi-
nations against his peace and happiness, rode
away with the herd and was only occasionally
reminded of the incident when his eye happened
to encounter one of the gifts presented to him
by the three girls. V

They reached their journey’s end when Gor-
don bade farewell to his comrades and returned
to the Agency. reaching the Black Bear. as the
stream is called, on which the Pawnee
Agency is situated, late at night and riding
slowly down the stream, after crossing it.

But suddenly his horse stopped with a. shiver
and neighed loudly, while an answering whin-
n_v came from the woods near by, and turning
his head Gordon, thought he could see a coal-
hlack steed standing under a spreading tree
near by, and pressed his unwilling horse a little
nearer in order to investigate.

And he found be was not mistaken, for he
beheld a wild‘looking horse attached by the
rein to one of the lower branches of the tree,
and the eyes of the steed flamed like carbuncles
as he glared at Gordon. '

And Gordon, urging his horse forward by the
free use of the spur, drew near, when alarmed
by his approach the black steed neighed loudly.
apda dark figure, with branching antlers on

 

its head, dropped from the tree into the saddle
and loosening the fastenings darted amOng the
trees with incredible swiftness.

And Gordon gave chase, but although WPll
mounted, was soon left far behind, and ahead
oned the pursuit, returning along the road he
had been following and, reeOgnizing the tree
where the horse had been tied cut a deep cross
in the bark that he might be able to distinguish
it when he next came that way, for he was
determined to solve this mystery, which. at
the present time, seemed wholly inexplicable.

 

CHAPTER XII.
THE WILD HUNTER TO THE RESCUE.

WHEN Gordon arose the next day he went to
the Agency and there met several of the Paw-
nees, who seemed to be very much excited, and
were talking and gesticulating rapidly, and,
mingling with them, he soon learned the cause
of their conversation.

Some of the young men, who had gone out
very early that morning, had ridden along
Black Bear, “hen they came to the spot where
the tradition that Gordon had heard placed the
abode of the Wild Hunter; but, as davlight had
banished their fears. they were tnlkin and
laughing, when suddenly a sight met their eyes
which filled them with terror, awe and super-
stitious fancies.

For laid out, side by side on the ground, were
the bodies of seven Creek warriors, each one
stone dead, and bearing in the Center of his.
forehead a brand, burnt deeply into the flesh.
and the mark was a pair of antlers!

The had not stopped to investigate, but had
turns and fled from the haunted spot as if they
feared that the same fate might overtake them,
and had not ceased their headlong flight until
thcely had reached the A ency. '

here the arquainte their companions with
what they ad seen, while the legend of the
Wild Hunter flew from lip to lip with many
and varied embellishments.

Gordon, recalling the vision that had con-
fronted him the night before, was much im~

ressed by this new incident, but could not

elieve that there was anything supernatural
connected with it; but he went to the agent
and told him what he had seen and of this last
development.

“ Well,’ Gordon. we’ll settle it now. 4

“Go and saddle two horses and we will ride
out and see if the Indians are mistaken or not.

“I have known them to mistake a swan for a
ghost and a limb of a tree for a corpse.”

“ All right,” replied Gordon.

“I’m going to see this thing through if 1 have
to go to the place at midnight.”

They were soon mounted and riding along
the banks of Black Bear, but alone, for not one
of the superstitious savages would venture out
of the village.

“Will you know the tree again?" asked the
agent, as they trotted along.

“Certainly.”

“ And how?” i , ,

“0h! didn’t I tell on? I blazed it or rather
out a cross in the bar , last night,"

“ A growl”. /

 

  

 

22

 

Gordon Lillie.

     

 

  

, I‘ Yes.”
“ Well. if it is a demon who is working all of
these mysteries, he’ll shun that spot.”

" Because no flrstclass evil spirit will ever
venture near that holy symbol.

“Well. demon or mortal, I’m going to track
him to his den i”

“ [ hope you may; for if the mystery is not
soon solved the Indians will all go crazy with
fear, and then we would have a lively time.”

‘ “ Here is the tree,” suddenly interrupted Gor-
don, as he pointed to a huge monarch of the

’ forest a few rods away, in the trunk of which
gonad be seen the white cross cut deep in the

ar .

“And there are the bodiesl"

“ The Pawnees were right, then."

“ Yes, for once. ”

“ Well, let us investigate.”

But search as they would they could find no
trace of the presence of a human being save the
presence of the seven stark bodies.

Each man had been killed bya deep cut in the
back of the head, evidently inflicted y a. toma—
hawk or hatchet and burnt deep into the fore—
head of each was the brand the Indians had
spoken of—a pair of branching antlers.

“ This tallies well with what their legend
teaches them, and is certainly most curious.

“But we can do nothing now.

“ Come, Gordon, we will go back to the
Agency and send a wagon for the bodies which
we will care for until we can communicate with
the Greeks.” '

“I will stay here,” replied Gordon.

“ If the antlered hunter returns I will give
him a warm welcome; send me out some lunch
and I will remain until morning.”

“ Very well; you are not afraid?”

“ Of what?”

“ 0f the Wild Hunter,” laughed the agent.

“ Not a bit, no more than of a tame one.”

“ Well, good-by l”

“ Good-by l" returned the lad cheerily and
then, leading his horse some distance off, he
h‘oppled him and returned to the tree, leaning
his rifle against it and seeing that his revolvers
were eas in their places, and then seated him-
self on t e turf and leaned back against the
huge trunk.

Not a sound disturbed the silence of the forest
except the occasional snorting of his horse as he
grazed, until the wagon sent by the agent ar-
rived and the bodies were placed in it.

The men in charge then departed, leaving
Gordon’s lunch with im, and he,-after eating it,
and taking a drink from the stream near by,
seated himself in his former place and began to
think ’of a hundred difl'erent things.

But from thoughts he gradua iy drifted of!
into dreams, an , leaning back against the

narled trunk of the tree, slept long and pro-
oundly for he had been up late the night be-
fore an was fatigued from his long ride.

And so he slept on. unhe ding the light'foot—
steps which barely stirred the grass over which
they swept; unaware of the slight ures that
cautiously approached him; unconsc one of the

lot that was being unfolded to win, or lose,
in «raver. ' ‘

 

m m}

But sudden! he started!
A light han had been laid upon his shoulder,
a soft voice had whispered in his ear:

‘f The maidens of the Oteos woo thee from
thy slumber!

“ Aw eke!”

At first he could scarcely distinguish anything
about him, for it was growing dark and the
long shadows cast by the trees hightened the
gloom that surrounded him.

But soon he saw standing in front of him
three indistinct figures. whom he recognized as
the three girls he had saved from the mad
cattle a short time before, and would have
stepped toward them to obtain an explanation
of this mystery, when he suddenly realized that
he was bound fast to the trunk of the tree be-
hind him.

And he also saw that his arms had been deftly
taken from his belt and that he was without a
weapon.

Approaching him as he sat there, the three
girls lifted him to his feet. after, loosening the
thongs which held him close to the tree, and
then, with many an encircling fold. bound him
upright to the trunk, wrapping the lariats they
carried around and about him in a hundred
coils, until he could not/move a single muscle.

And then one of the girls spoke:

“ Little, Bear. you see before you three
Lnaidens who are rivals in love, but sisters in

ate.

“You saved our lives not many days a o, and
won our gratitude; and this gratitu 6 has
changed to love.

“ We have vowed that you should wed one of
us, and now we await your choice. ,

“ Two of us will ab do by your choice of the
third, and, although sorrowing, will wish you
much happiness.

“ Refuse to take one of us, and you perish by
fire where you stand. ’

“Choose!”

And the three took up their stations before
him and stood, with folded arms, awaiting his
answer.

“ But at least give me a little time to reflect!”
cried Gordon, whose situation seemed desperate
and who wished to plan some mode of escape.

“ You shall have until the rising moon can be
seen over the topmost branch of yonder tree.

“ If you have then decided we will ride away
to our villa e and bring our friends and relatives
here to cele rate the nuptials.

“ if you have not chosen, then you perish by

re.
“ Think well before you speak; for we are de-
zeérgiined and merciless when our love is scorn-
1

Not for a moment did Gordon thinkof ac-
cepting their propo=ltion and he well knew that
they wOuld not arley with him.

He unders the Indian nature thoroughly
and realized that when scorned the love of a red
maiden turns to the most deadly hate, and that
the caressing hands of one moment often wield
the keen blade on their lover the next.

His position was a precarious one, for no one
was near to aid him and he was powerless to
hel himself. and at length. he became reckless
iau desperate, and after tugging vainly at the

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

Gordon Lillie.

23

 

bonds which held him, he called to the girls who
sat a little distance off, like statues of fate, and
the eagerly approached." .

The moon had not et reached the (paint set
by the girls and they oubtl- ss suppose that he
was tired of his constrained position and had
determined to accept their proposition.

But if they believed this his first words quick-
ly undeceived them:

“ Bring on your tagots, demons, rather than
women!" he cried. “Better to perish in the
slow-burning flames than to purchase freedom
at such a. pricel” ' _

“ This is your determination?” fairly shrieked
the three. mad with rage and disappointment;
for each had thought she would wm him.

“My final determination—I shall speak no
word more!”

Then the Indian blood boiled at what they
considered a deadly insult, and they began to
pile leaves, twigs, branches, and dead boughs in
a half-circle in front of him and some distance
away, that his torture might be greater from
the slowly increasing heat.

And then as the rays of the moon shot over
the top of the tree pointed out by the girl the
trio stepped forward and ignited the pile of
brushwood in three different places, and the
flames began to creep, with snap and sparkle,
in different directions, until the whole mass was
ablaze.

And Soon the heat became unbearable, his
clothes began to smoke and scorch, while the
flames kept growing hotter and hotter, and
gradually crawling nearer, darted their red
tongues toward his face.

But suddenly aloud neigh was heard, and an
immense black horse leaped into the circle of
light, a tall figure sprung from his back, wear-
ing an enormous pair of antlers on his head, re-
leaSed Gordon with one sweep of his knife, and,
lifting the boy, with one bound was again in
the saddle, and with a Wild laugh disappeared,
while the terrified girls. for one moment stupe-
fied by fright, the next fled from the place,
overcome by their superstitious terror of the
Wild Hunter.

___.

CHAPTER XIII; .
A WILD 1mm.

THE intense pain he had suffered from the
scorching flames and the suffocating smoke that
he had inhaled from the green houghs that had
had been scattered in the fire, had reduced Gor-
don to a. state of insensibility, so that as he was
cut loose from his bonds he was unconscious of
what had happened, and lay like a. log across
his rescuer’s knees during the ride through the
forest.

When he recovered consciousness he found
himself lying on the turf near the Agency, while
all around him was still, not a living thing being
in sight, while far above him the moon sailed on

lacidl . ‘
p Hergcsllod with an effort the narrow escape
that he had made, but could notunderstand how
it‘had been effected but came to the conclusion
that the three maidens had relented and releas-
ed him. after trying his courage to the utmost.

u;
l

 

vhf";

He determined, therefore, to keep his own
counsel, and not to say anything to any one re«
garding his late adventure; so crawling to bed,

e remained there, suffering, but enabled to re-
duce the pain of his burns by some simple oint-
ment that he had, and, evading all questions,
tpleaded sickness and kept his room for several

ays.

When he reappeared he was completely rec
covered, and in answer to the agent’s nes—
tions, assured him that he had seen not ing
of the Wild» Hunter, and that he had fallen
asleep at the foot of the tree.

The matter was finally dropped, and Gordon,
going to the place where he had so narrowly
escaped a terrible death, found his wee ns
hanging to a branch of the tree to whichohe
had been tied; they not having been disturbed,
as no Indian, since the late discovery of the
bodies beneath it, cculd be induced to venture
anywhere in its vicinity.

The charred branches scattered about and
the scorched bark on the-tree, however, gave
witness of the recent attempt on his life, and
Gordon determined that he would not again be
caught napping beneath the shadow of that
tree, at lehst.

But on reaching the Agency again, other
thoughts took the late of those which had puz-
led him; for he ound that it was necessary
that he should be the bearer of certain dis-
patches that it was extremely important
should be delivered without delay at another
Agency”

And to carry them Gordon was requested
and readily consented, wishing for achange of
scene and a more active life than he had been
leading for the past few days.

When the news spread that Gordon was to
make the attempt, his brother—n ho‘ was
known as “Bare~back Al, on account of his
on‘ce having ridden ninety miles in a day, bare-

back—and his uncle, known as Pawnee John, >

decided to accompany him. ‘ ‘

The dispatches Were most im ortant, and
Gtrdon was cautioned, time and t we again, to
bedcareful with, and to deliver them at all haz-
ar s.

The road they were to take lay through a,
wild country, swarming with Indians, horse-
thieves and des radoes of every description,
and it was well nown that the enterprise was
one’ of difficulty and danger; but the he did
not hesitate for an instant, but prepared or his
wild ride as gayly as if dressing for a ball.

And as the sun reached noon-mark they set
forth, spurring through the streets of the vil~
Iago amid the well-wishes of all, and the shout-
ing and yelling of the Indians, who had assem~
bled in full force to see their young friend off.

Their objective point lay three hundred miles
away, and this distance was to be traversed, w
cording to Gordon’s calculations, in four days—-
a task that required iron endurance and much
good fortune in the way of procuring fresh

orses on the road.

They rode on and on through the heat of the
afternoon, pushing their horsos at a. steady gal-
lop, and crossing stream after stream until the
sun was getting low in the west, when, reach-
ing the banks 0; the Sinnercou river, thirty-five

,.

i

 

  

 

    

24

 

Gordon Lillie.

    

 

miles from the agency, they stopped to let their
horses rest and to eat a mouthful of lunch.

But as they sat around the camp-fire which
they had kindled to make a cup of of coffee,
Gordon suddenly rose to his feet as a horseman
rode over the brow of a rise on the prairie, and,
seizing his rifle called out to know what the
stranger wanted, for in every approaching ob—
‘iect an enemy was to be feared.

“I hav lost my way, pardner," replied the
unknown, “nn’ seem" the smoke of yer fire,
came up to ask of you could (l’rekt me.”

“ Where are you going?“

“ To ther Agency.”

“ The Pawnee Agency?"

“K’rect.”
~ “Straight north, about thirty five miles.”

, “ Whewl" whistled the other, “ too fur ter go
to—night.

“Say, young teller, kin a lonely wand’rer

' cam with yer to night?”

“ e are going to break camp in about an
hour.“

“Goin’ ter take a moonlight ride. be yer?”
sneered the stranger.

“Well, don’t let me detain yer!" and Wheel»
ing his horse the stranger galloped off south, in—
steal of taking the direction pointed out to him
by Gordon.

“Some fellow sizing us up,” quietly remarked
Bareback Al, who sat quietl y and unconcernedl y
munching his supper. i

“If his pals are in the neighborhood, we’ll
have to look out, that’s all.”

But nothing happened to interrupt their re—
psst, and they chatted on a thousand different
suhje -ts until Gordon suddenly said: _

“ My instructions are to acquaint you with
the contents of my dispatches, so that in case
anything happens to me and either of you gets

. through he can deliver the message.

“Word has been received—how I do not
know—that a large band of horse—thieves is be-
ing organlzed, to make a raid down through
the territory and into Texas, and these dis~

atches are sent to warn the commander of

ort Blank to be on the lookout.

“ That is all there is in them.

“ But I have noticed. hanging around the
Agency for several days, a tough-looking cus-
tomer, whom'I suspect of being connected with
this same band; and if I am not mistaken he is
the identical gentleman who accosted us a
while ago. i

“ They evidently suspect something and want
to get hold of the papers to obtain proof.

“If we are attacked, you, uncle John, act
as if the documents were in your possession to
draw attention from me, and I’ll try and get
through'with them."

“All right, Gordon, we’ll focl 7em!”

And the horses being by this time somewhat
rested, the three arose and, snddling their
steeds, mounted and again rode south.

As they drew out on the prairie, a little
clump of trees loomed up on the plain not far
ahead and in the shadow cast by the branches,
the three riders could distinguish several horse-
men: but Gordon whispered:

“Ride straight on, and don’t spur until they
give chaser"

/

 

“All right,” was the quiet answer and the
three gallo ed steadily on without increasing
their spee until nearly opposite the grove,
whena dozen mounted men burst from their
hiding-place and swept out over the plain to—
ward them.

Then the trio put spurs to their horses and
the noble animals, much rested by their late
halt, leaped out in a stretching run and fairly
flew over the prairie.

On, on, they sped until the pursuers, whose
horses were of blooded stock and much fresher
than the others. began to gain on them, inch by
inch, and the boy, looking over his shoulder,
saw that the chase could only last a short time
longer, when they would be overtaken.

Not a shot was fired, for the pursuers evident-
ly were certain of their victims and did not
wish to shed blood, knowing that the killing or
aGovernment messenger would entail serious
consequences.

But at length Gordon whispered to Pawnee
ohn-

“ Make a. break for the bluffs at the left, and
answer me when I call to you 1"

The other nodded understandin ly and, bear-
i ng on the reins, suddenly swerve and bent off
toward the broken country on his left, while
Gordon cried out:

“ Take care of the dispatchesl”

“ I’ll not lose them i” came back the answer,
while the band of pursuers, thinking Pawnee
John had the important documents, swept off
after him, all but one man, who, fearing a. ruse,
gallope on after Gordon, and, coming along-
side. g asped his horse by the bridle.

But the boy, drawin and clubbing his revol-
ver, dealt him a. fair
tween the eyes, and the man, loosening his
grasp on the rein, fell heavily to the ground,
while Gordon, the horses ruining alongside
each other at full speed, leaped from his saddle
onto the other steed and swept away at re-
doubled gnllo .

And he andp Bareback Al, rode along to other,
and were soon lost sight of the horse~t§ieves,
who, overtaking Pawnee John, quickly strip-
ped him, and finding nothing, were mad on
discovering how they had been tricked, and
kicking and cuffing their victim, left him for
dead on the plain.

And Gordon find his brother pursued their
way, stoppin now and then to rest, until Al’s
horse succum d to the terrible strain and fell
dead, while Gordon pressed on alone, riding but
slowly until at length his horse also gave out,
and he was compelled totraverse the remaining
«ten miles on foot.

And as he drew near his destination. he was
again attacked and ran a race for life and
death, through the thick chaparral, taking to
the broken ground where the horsemen could
not follow, cutting his feet on the sharp rocks,
tearing his clothes and his flesh in a thousand
places on the sharp thorns, until, at length he
staggered up to the fort, asked for the officer in
command and was admitted.

And stumbling into the room, bleeding. dirty,
haggard, he saluted the colonel, and gasping:

“Dispatches from Pawnee Agency, sir,’ he
tell heavily to the floor, completely exhausted?

low with the butt, be-‘v

  

  

 

mnumhéd... _ A ___A

....W h~}~_“._.a;‘~l

. 12;,»

 

 

\f>

 

4:; »

 

i
i

 

~ 1; mmw-7.{

 

\f-

 

 

 

Gordon Lillie. 85

CHAPTER XIV.
wannmo.

I'm return to the Agency was unmarked by any
interruption, as most of the distance was traveled
in company with the United States troops, who were
sent out in search of the threatening hand of horse-
thiaves; but with no success.

Knowing of Gordon’s mission and that he had
carried it through, despite the efforts made by them
to prevent, they had taken fright and left the coun-
try: while the young fellow was warmly praised for
his daring and strategy.

At the Agency he ound both Pawnee John and
Bareback Al; who had succeeded in reaching it
without any further encounters, although Pawnee
John still bore the traces of his encounter with the
band which had pursued him.

Gordon determined that he would unearth the
mystery that hedged the Wild Hunter about, and
determined, also that he would solve the enigma,
alone and unaided. So, soon after arriving at the
Agency, he set out, one dark ni ht, well-mounted
and prepared to give a pressing c ase to the weird
stranger.

He was well armed: but as he had an indistinct
idea that he had been saved trom the flames by the
Wild Hunter, he determined not to use his weapons
against him. but only to resort to them in case of
his encountering some unexpected danger.

Arriving at the mysterious tree which seemed to
be the haunt ot the apparition, he withdrew into
the deeper shadows of the wood and there sat motion—
less, his well-trained horse betraying by neither
sound nor movement that be was there.

And after a somewhat prolonged vigil, his patience
was rewarded by hearing a. noise. as if some one
were crashing through the undorgmwth, and soon a
tall figure came toward him through the darkness,
barely discernible through the shades of the night,
and rapidly approached, while his horse broke the
stillness for the first time by a. whinny of fear, and
trembled in evei limb.

At the sound t e unknown stopped and peered in
the direction where Gordon was and at the same
moment the lad urged his frightened horse forward
and neared the weird-looking stranger, who stood,
drawn up to his full higlit, which looked gigantic
to Gordon, with folded arms, awaiting the approach
of the intruder. _

But as Gordon 9. proached, the figure circled the
huge tree near w ieh he was standing. and disap-
peared as completely as if the earth had yawned
wide and swallowed him in the opening, and nearing
the monarch of the forest. he sprung from his pant—
ing steed and, taking the br‘dle-rein in his hand,
walked in the direction where he had last Seen the
apparition standing.

Ever and anon a rustling in the grass warned him
that the s t abounded in snakes. and lie step ed
carefully, o avoid treading on one of the rcpt leg
and, possibly receiving a fatal wound from the pois-
oned fangs of the serpents.

His horse, which, until a short time before, had
been all fire and impetuosity now exhibited the great»
est alarm, trembled and quivered, snorted and drew
back and had to be dragged along by main strength.

\Vhen he approached close to the tree its gnarled
and twisted trunk rose before him like some huge
towor and as he passed around it, he rceived in its
side a hucc rift, which appeared as 1 caused by the
lightning’s stroke; but no one was in eight, and,
stopping, Gordon called out:

“ Man or Spirit, whichever you are—ap )earl"

And at the summons a loud, mamaca laugh was
heard; a dim sulphurous flame burst fromthe open-
ing in the tree and while the same suffocating smoke
that he had experienced before assailed his nostrils,
a, tall, gaunt figure burst into VltiW wearing an enor-
mous pair of antlers on its h and grinned and
mouthed at the boy whose courage held flrm during
the fearful ordeal.

F
%

 

But his horse rearing :mo plrnging, broke awa
and galloping off through the forest. was in a Eli/31%
time lost to view while the sound. of:  hoofnbeatt:
gradually died awn in the distance.

“You have calle inc, Gordon Lillie,” then spoke
the apparition in deep tones, '

“ I am here. What do you desire?”

“Knowmg my name, you should also know my
errand," curtly responded lhe boy.

“ Your errand is doubtless to solve the mystery 0."
the Wild Hunter—lifi/ou cm ; is it not so?”

“ Your judgment is correct.

‘ “i do not partake or the superstition oi' the
Indians, and Whatevei mystery may be connected
With you, I I 0 not believe that it is supoi :iliiral."

"‘ An idle curiosity influences you, then.
_ “No;' a wish to aid the unfortunate
is thus compelled to play upon the tears oi? the
credulpus savages for some purpose at his own.

“ lsit for vengeance that you thus ini:il~'t,1i;eradeY7

“I am. the spirit of the Wild Hunter, and my van
geanjce is directed against the whole of the human
race "

“And why?“

“‘Give me your hand that you will not unfold in
luslorlylr ‘lllltll I give you permission, and 1 will 
you a . ’

Gordon stretched out his hand and placed it in the
palm of the stranger, and instantly his fingers were
squeezed as if in a vise, and lie was drawn toward
the tree by a strength that seemed almost supen
human, while he was blinded and suffocated by a
thick sulphurous vapor that arose about his head.
I .At the some moment a. blanket was thrown ore:-
his head, and before he could extricate himself irom
its folds, his arms were pinned to his body by an en-
circling cord, and he was dragged into the hollow
tree, and then, before he was fully able to realize
what had happened, he became unconscious, and
knew nothing of what followed.

When his senses returned lo‘him Gordon found
himself lying on the turf, near the edge of th» forest
(1 most intolerable headache racking his teni les an
the recollection of past events vague and ingistinct;
but with an effort be recalled the adventures of the
preceding nighwfor it was now broad daylight—
and his interview with the Wild Hunter: / ‘

Despite his doubts he could scarcely refrain from
attributing somethin, supernatural to the strange
being, and this was ightened by his weak and ex-
hausted condition, for the overpowering smoke he
had inhaled, and which had caused his inscnsibility.
istill left its effects lingering in his heated imagina-

ion.

The champing of a bit and the stamping of a
horse aroused him somewhat, and looking off a
little distance he saw his horse fastened by the
reins to a low- iang‘ing brunch near by. and rising, be
approached him, and was about to mount when a
small piece of white paper, scorched around the
edges as if it had been near the fire, pinned to the
trunk of the tree attracted his attention, and
taking it down he. saw that it boron brand and some
Written clim-netms, which were flamehued in color
On the document thus stamped, was written:

“ Seek not lo solve the mystery which environs the
Wild Hunter; or do so at your peril.

“Twice you have escaped; but the third adven-
ture may‘be fatal to youl

“ annmnl

"His vengeance demands sacrifice; and he will
immolate all on the altar of his wrath.

“Be warned and venture no more near this fatal

 

 

PO
"Respect his secret and you arusafe; endeavor

to penetrate it and the consequences will surely be \

fearful!
,“Again, BEWARE! THE WILD HUNTER."

Carefully reading,r the missive, Gordon then
mounted and rode back to the Agermy, wondering
whether or no he should tell this last adventure to

. nature. who

 

 

 

   

26

 

thcagent; but at length decided to keep his own
mimic) and to pursue the adventure alone; for he
w is determined not to abandon it, despite the warn-
ing he had received.

Arriving. he was accosted by the agciit:_

“Well. Gordon, been out on another nunt after
the mestprious demon of the woods?“

“ es

“ Did you find him?”

“Yes; or rather, he found me."

“ And what was the result?“

“ Oh, my horse got frightene'l and broke away
from me. the ‘ deiiion,‘ as you call him. disappeared
and I did not see him again; and when I recovered
my horse it was daylight." '

“ S ) you have no clew as [50 who he is?”

" N me at all.”

" Well, I don‘t believe in the existence of any
ghosts, and don‘t think any person ever saw one.

“ Gipture the Wild Hunter and bring him in, and
p irhaps you’ll convert me.” 1

“Oh, I’m making no converts."

“ I thought you were.

“ The next time, though. you want to go on a mid-
night chase, let me know, and I‘ll join you.

“What do you say?

“ If there is to be any capturing done, I want to do
it single-handed.

“ ‘ To the 'victor belongs the spoils,’ you know."

” You’d better be sure of victory before you count
on any spoils."

"That‘s so; butI don’t want to brag; just you
wait an i see."

“I can’t see without waiting, so will have to be
patient.

“ But come in here and see what this old Indian
wants~l can't make head or tail out of his gesticu-
lotions."

Entering Gordon found an old chief standing
inside, and the critive rsation that followed made
Gardon yet more determined to continue his hunt.

For the old chief graphically told how he and a
few companions, who were hunting, had suddenly
come upon the bodies of two Creek warriors, laid
out side by side. each one killed b a stab in the
back, and bearin on their foreheat s the same inys-
terious brand which ornamented the document that
the ho had found pinned to the tree by a pointed
stick t at morning. _

And relatin this to the agent, the latter, in spite
of his incredu ity. admittezl that there was somcv
thing strange in the whole proceeding.

CHAPTER. XV.

, = CAPTURING THE WILD Human.

_ Tin: gaunt trunk of the huge tree, whence Gordon

had seen the apparition appeir, loomed huge and
shadowy in the darkness as the hour of twelve
drew near, on the succeeding night; and hidden
in- its branches crouching along a. large limb
thaiiéioverhung the rift in the trunk, lay the boy in
w». ng.

He had waited until all about the Agency were
buried in slumber. and had then ridden out alone
and without notifying any one of. his intention.

L ing uietly, his form could not be distin uished
in he goom. and he patiently waited for he a -
pearance of the Wild Hunter; while de ite his
coura. is he felt awed by the darkness an silenc”,
yet do rminod to brave all dangem to pierce through
the depths of the mystery which enveloped the
weird stran er.

At length ie heard a slight sound below him, and
peering cautiously down, saw issue from the trunk
of the tree t rough the opening in its side two huge
gray wolves, which went snifiin, about the tree and
soon found his trail a. parent y, for they snarled
suspiciously and, follow up: the scent, came close up
to he s t where he had climbed u , clawed the
Exhale igh as they could reach, an then bayed

Garden drew a little further back on the limb and

,1?  ti

p /
i 1

Gordon Lillie.

 

    

holding in his hands the noose of his lariat. leaned
out over the rift and‘at that moment saw the stran-
ger ap war, a dim bin" phosphoroseent light playing
about is head and adding to his ghastly and ghost-
like appearance.

In an instant the noose fell llrrlSClPSQly from above,
and before the Wild Hunter realized what had hap—
pened, it tightened about his arms and he was
drawn up, swinging into the air powerless to release
himself and uttering not a wor .

As Gordon drew the antlered head elosix up to the
limb on which he was now sitting astriile, he i'ast eucd
the end of the lariat which he held and then. draw-
ing his knife, leaned down and severed the
thongs which fastened the deer‘s antlers to the head
of the Wild Hunter. and lifted the horns high in the
air.

Then he spoke.

“ You are now in my power, and you see that your
warning was of no avail.

"Silence your four-footed com anions,”—-t‘or the
two wole were howling tremen ously, and leaping
high in the air with gnasliiiig teeth, endeavorng to
reach the two above.

“ Satan l—-Dragon l—lie down i" commanded the
hoarse voice of the captured stranger, and in an in-
stant the two brutes crouched whimpering to the
ground and lay quiet.

Then Gordon, taking a thong he had provided in
case his plan was successful, leaned over again and
tied the hands of the other firmly. after which he
lifted him on the branch, close to the trunk and
bound him to the tree.

.For although the stranger was of an immense
highs, yet he was very slightly built, and his weight
was as nothing in the strong arms of the youngboy,
although it could be plainly discerned on grasping
him, that muscles of iron and sinews of Rtch lurked
beneath his skin.

_ His. face was drawn and haggard, and there lurked
in his (1001) set eyes a baleful glare that was
maniacal in its fury, while his unkempt hair and
heard, floating in Wild disorder, now that their fast-
eninvs were undone, added to his weird appearauco.

“ ow.“ said Gordon. “that I have you firmly se»
cured I will return to the Agency and soon have you
under arrest; unless indeed you will relate your
history to me and what this disguise means."

“ I owe it to you to inform you, for what you
have done for my familyv—or rather attempted to do
for them."

“ What do you mean?"

“ Listen, and I will tell you. r

"I am the son of the old minister who was massa-
cred by the Creek Indians not long since. -

“ I was returning home for a short visit on that
fatal night, when, just as I was nearing the cabin I
was felled from my horse by a. crushin blow on the
head, and for a moment lay insensible in the woods
near the edge of the clearing or glade in which our
little home was situated.

“ I returned to consciousness just as ou rode into
the circle of light, cast by the burning uilding, and
saw your face clearly. -

“ At that moment I also saw my father stretched
out on the ground and an Indian. with uplifted toni-
ahawk. about to brain my innocent sister.”

And, his face bent down, he shuddered at the re-
collection of that fearful night.

But as Gordon was about to s ak, he raised his
eygs that were wet With tears an continued his nar-
ra ive: ~ ‘

“ I could not bear the awful si ht—l sunk to the
earth powerless to prevent the low, for my rifle
was gone and my pistols had been taken from me
after I had been scalped.

“ Yes," as an exclamation of horror sprung to his
listener’s ii 5 while the lad, drawing his knife, cut
the bonds w ich held the stranger:

“ I have been seamed, and live to tell the talel

“ But the awful scene that was transpirin before
my very eyes, the term‘ble blow I had race ved, the

  

     
 
 
   
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
    
   
  
 
 
 
   
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
    
   
  
  
 
 
   
   
 
  
   
   
  
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
  

3"“

 

 
         

 

 

 

 

Gordon Lillie.

 

 

 

pain of “my wounds and the loss of blood were too
much for me and I ain sunk back unconscious.

“When I returned 0 my senses, t e glade was de-
serted and nothing living remained in it. and crawl-
ing cautiously out I approached carefully and found
the dead body of my father, scorching near the yet
smoldering embers of our former home.

“0f in sister there was no trace, yet, searchin
in the as es, I found a few charred bones, which
am sure were hers, as the savages undoubtedly flung
her yet warm body into the flames.

“ “or I know you were not in time— No! do no
speak yet~and then what could you do alone
against that howling mob of red demons?

“ And, after burying zh em in one common grave,“

I knelt beside the mound and lifting my hand to high
heaven, swore thatI would devote my life to ven~
geunce, and that all my future days should be
passed in wreaking my revenge on the Greeks.

“I had heard the story or legend of the Wild
Hunter and determined to adopt this disguise, the
better to further my schemes—and it has worked
well. ' .

whenever I appear, and they do not stop to defend
themselves, but invariably seek safety in flight in
good horse easily overtaking them—while a iilt e
sulphur and phosphorus adds to their fears and a
woven vest of steel-links turns their knife-thrusts
and leaves me unburt.

“Now that I have told you all, you will not betray
me—an [ am not now at your mercy—I am un-
bound and free, and live only for vengeancel ven-
geance!" ‘

But as be fairly shriekcd out the last words With
a yell that won d have chilled the blood of a less
courageous bearer, Gordon spoke:

“ You have something else to live forl

“ Your sister is alive and well, and demands your
care.

" She did not perish on that fatal night; but was
rescued by me, unhurt."

“What!” screamed the maniac, for such Gordon
now realized he was.

“ My sister alive! ohl
Shel—tell me, I beg."

And he broke in o a storm of tears, the reaction
being so great, but was calmed and quieted in a
few moments and able to listen to Gordon.

And in a short time the lad had ex lained how he
had been able to rescue the girl an how the bones
the other had found must be those of the Indian
who was ab mt to tomahawk her, and which were
so charred as to leave but a few fragments.

And the stranger—the Wild Hunter no longer—-
almost fell on Gordon’s neck and kissed him, so
grateful was he for the daring rescue he had suc-
ceeded in making.

And then they descended from the tree, the sup
posed wolves rowling menacineg at Gordon as he
approached, ut being quickly quieted by their
master, who, cutting sundry fastenings. relieved
them of their covering of wolf-skins and left them

where is shot-where is

standin there, two large, powerful deer—hounds,
which ad been thus disguised to aid in the decep—
tion.

Enterin the rift in the trunk, the stranger stoo
ed and pu led on a huge root which Seemed flrm v
imbedded in the earth, but, much to Gordon’s sur-
prise it raised up easily. leaving an opening through
whic they both dro ) ed into a sort of acell below,
hewn out of the earth, and where was a rude couch
and sundry other evidences of habitation.

Gathering up a few traps, the ex~hunter caught
hold of a chain hanging from above, and clambered
once more into the trunk of the tree, followed by
Gordon. and, closing the opening which led below,
they went out into the open air and, were soon on
their way to the Agency, reaching it before day-
brm and entering Gordon's quarters unseen.

He 9 a air of scissors and a razor soon produced
a marked) change in the Wild appearance of the

l

“Their superstitious fears are instantly aroused

 

visitor, yet the glare did not entirely leave his eyes
and Gordon reahzed that he was insane.

The boy then hunted up the surgeon of theAgency

and he, comm , administered a soothing draught to
Robie. for suc was the visitor’s name, and he soon
fell into a deep slumber. during which the surgeon
examined him and found that a small piece of his
skull, crushed in by the blow of the tomahawk,
pressed ainst his brain.
. Calling iis assistant and procuringa on se of his u
instruments, he deftly performed an operation, liftr
ing the piece of bone 11 and bandaging it, so that
when, in a few hours, obie awoke, his mind was
clear. and his head gave him no more trouble.

And in a few days more, completely restoxed to
health, he set out for the East where his sister was.
clothed and in his right mind.

And not long after Gordon received a. long letter
from him. in which he renewed his thanks, johed
those of his sister, whom he had found, to his OWn,
and stated that he intended to study for the minis-
try and return among the Indians to take the place
his father had occupied before him.

And as time were on the legend of the Wild Hun-
ter became only a legend; but the superstition of
thelndiaizs kept them away from the fatal tree, to
which Gordon often rode, acconi innied by the two
hounds Robie had presented to him before leav' .

He told the whole story to the agent, and he
turn repeated it so that Gordon was praised on all
sides for his courage,

But the Indians placed no faith in his statement,
and adhered firmly to their former belief.

 

CHAPTER XVI.
ADOPIING A DISGUISE.

DURING the famous Creek outbreak, when so many
inoffensive persons were massacred in cold blood by
the Indians, Gordon was actively engaged in dif-
ferent capacities; acting now as scout; now as con-
rier and. again as messenger to the tribe. ,

Learning of the prese cc. of some of the tribe in
the neighborhood, he, with two of his young Indian
companions, left the Agency one bright morning,

and started out to reconnoiterin the direction of the .

surfiposed camp. ,

0 Show lay deep on the ground and they started

on foot thinking that they could roceed with more
recaution and with less likelihoo of discovery than
f the took their horses with them, and traveled all

that ay at a ace which would not seem possible to

a dweller in t e city. ‘

About sunset they reached a tall bluff which over-
hung a swift running stream, the rapid waters of
which had remained unfrozen.

A vast plain lay before them, on the other side of
the stream, and as they stood and looked, the dark;
ness came down u on them, and as the landscape
became indistinct in the gloom the sparkle of a
cam dire on the other side of the river, broke out
on t e night, and seemed so close that it almost ap-
peared possible to pitch a stone into it; yet it was
nearly a mile away.

Drawing his belt closer about him Gordon started
down the least precipitous side of the bluff, in order
to cross the river and, approaching as near the
camp-fire as he could, learn what manner of person
it was who had thus bivouacked for the night,

Followed by the Indians he stealthily approached
the sparkling light crawlin through a growth of
underbrush as carefully as the anther steals on his
prey, until, finally, they lay cosc to the grouped
band of Indians and could distincdy hrar every
word they uttered.

And there they lay and listened to the talk of the
Indians gathering information which, spread far
and wi e, prevented a massacre which would have
bathed many a home in blood and caused a wee lug
and a sorrow through the length and breadth 01p the
Territory. .

l“! I » .,

 

 

 

 

’ r era by the steep bank, so that, before the

A

 

“-pr

28 Gordon Lillie.

4

After lying quiet for some time, scarcely daring to
breathe for fear of being overheard. the three with—
drew as cautiously as they had come and, circling
around the camp, started 011’ over the plain again, to
see if any other bands were in the vicinity and wan-

’dering far from the river, found that a half-dozen

other fires dotted the prairie, and betokenecl the
presence of many warriors.

And suddenly day broke upon them, before they
were aware of its approach, and they realized that
they were in deadly peril, and must 'trust to their
swlftness of iimlr as well as their cunning, to escape
from the toils which encom assed them.

So they hurried oil on t elr return, and, rapidly

approaching the river, ran plump into a band of a
ha l' dozen savages. who were wandering about with
no definite purpose,
. The sur rise was mutual, and they stood gazing
at each ot let for a moment, and then Gordon, turn-
ing sharply to the right, plunged into a, thicket that
stretched far toward the river, and. followed by his
two companions. disappear-ad, while the mounth
band skurrled after Hem, howling like a. pack of
demons.

And so the chase swept on, until finally, the pur-
suers arriving within gun-shot. fired. and one of the
Indians fell headlong to the ground, shot through
the hip, while Gordon and his remaining companion
turnin r, blazed back defiance at their pursucrs with
two shots that brought death to one of the Creeks
and sent another tumbling to the ground, his horse
having been shot beneath him.

A short run across an open plain, and then, as
they were about to plunge into the woods which
lined the banks of the stream. another volley hissed
after them from the following horsemen, and the
other Indian stumbled and fell, sorcl wounded,
while Gordon, as by a. miracle, remainet unhurt.

Ste ping an instant, he turned and lifted his
frlen , throwdng the! body across his shoulders with
a. marvelous strength, and then, plunging into the

eve, realized that, for the moment, he was safe;

or the Indians would not a preach the timber and
ex se themselves to his rc,. preferring to wait
un i1 he should start to swim the stream and than
riddle him at their leisure.

Dodging from trunk to trunk of the huge trees
which lined the bank, and still carrying his comp-3.2:-
ion, Gordon at length reached the edge of the grove
and stood upon the bank of the stream.

A small log lay on the ground near by, and, rolling
this down into the water, hrce feet below, he stepped
down, ccd the Indian on tin: log, laid his revo vors
on the rank of the small tree he was thus utilizing
as a raft, and ushed off. drifting down the river
with the curren and being hidden from their ursu-
rocks
suspected it, Gordon and his rescued companion
were a mile away, and nearing the bank on the other
a ore.

But they did not land there, for they were driftin
in the direction of the Agency, and although chiller
to the bone, Gordon determined to stick to the river
as long as he could, until finally they were forced to
abandon it and land, when Gordon built a small
shelter for the Indian with boughs and twigs, and
then lighting a fire, made him as comfortable as
Epssible, when he started oil for the Agency on foot

search of help.

It was a long tramp, and he was well-nigh tired
out, but he pushed on and reached the village some

time before dark, and immediately informed the

wounded Indian‘s brothers of his condition: upon
which they, taking ponies" and blankets, set out to
his relief, while the unwearying lad began his prep-
arations for another journey, the object being 0
rescue his Indian brother, who was a prisoner in the
hands of the Greeks.

Robin had left with him not only his dogs but also
the magnificent black horse he had always ridden
as well as the costume he had assumed when set-
ting out on his errands of Vengeance, and leading

h,

 

his own animal. riding‘the black and followed by
the bounds, Gordon started of! in the direction of the
Creek camp, carrying a. large bundle on the saddle
before him. ,

lle rode fast and furiously, and knowing exactly
where he was going, shortened the distance con-
siderably by taking LI straight course, crossing the
river some distance below the camp, and, as he
drew near. stopping and dismounting and fastening
the two horses to a tree near by.

The night was well advance( and he feared that
he might be too late, yet be hastened his prepara:
tions as much as passable, hoping that he might ar-
rive in time and save his friend’s life, and his art-
rdngements bring fully completed, he rodo boldly
toward the Creek comp, leaving the led horse tied
to the tree where he had first stopped.

When Night Owl tell, he was rapidly reached by
the band of pursuing Greeks and, two of them stop-
Einrr, he was soon made prisoner and firmly secured

y thongs fastened about hands and feet, and car~
ried back to tha camp, where the arrival. of his
captors was hailed with enthusiasm, all rejoicing
over the capture of the spy. _

The wound he had received had not disabled him
much, although the shock had sent him headlong to
the turf, and the bleeding once slopped. he was
comparatively a well man, and able to undergo any
tortures inflicted upon him with tho stoical endur-
ance characteristic of the Indian who disdains to-
give way to any exhibition of pain.

And soon the rest of the band returned, mad with
rage and disappointment at the escape of the other
two who had succeeded in cluding them, and with
wild cries they demanded that Night Owl should be
put to the torture.

And this proposition was hailed with delight on all
sides, while preparations were quickly made for the
final tragedy in the captured man‘s 1i e.

The body of the dead Indian was placed before
him as he stood bound to a tree, and the Indian ora-
tors began their high~tlown speeches, alluding to the
bravery of the dead man, and cudeavoring by all the
means in their power to arouse the wrath of the
captured man, but wivhout- success; for he realizod
that the utmost gratification he could aflord them
would beto give way to an outburst of rage—this
being the end for which they were striving.

But at length they exhausted their insulting vo-
cabulary, and, his feet and hands being unbound,
whiie he was closely guarded that he migl‘t not es-
cape, he was led toward the camp-tire which burned
brightly in the center of the glade and there again
fastened to a huge tree, while the Creel: warriors
began their fiendish tortures.

To speak of t'xe various means they resorted to.
in order to wring from him an exclamation of pain
would be useless repetition; the story has been told
over and over again until it has become a. too-
familiar one.

Suffice it 10 say that in a short time his body pre-
sented a terrible a pearance, so gushed, so scarred.
so burned and b istered was it, although he had
not as yet received any fatal wound.

At length, as his courage remained unshaken, and
despite the most excruciating pain inflicted on him,
he had not given one Sign of weaknew, but con—
tinued to gaze sneer-ineg and contemptuously on
his tormoniors, they prepared to exercise their

skill in throwing the tomahawl; with the Indian as a4

mark: the object being to come as close as possible
to him without inflicting a wound.

Drawing lots for precedence, the Indians formed.

themselves in a line, and Night Owl, seeing that a
brother or the dead man stood third, made up his
mind that he would soon cease to suffer, as this
relative would surely seize this opportunity for ven«
geance. and crush out his life by a. skillful throw of
his keen-bladed hatchet.

Ste ping forward, the first of the Greeks drew
back sarm and sent his tomahawk twistin find
whining through the air until the blade struc the

'a c

 

, I , .i..,,.,,,,w,, . 

 

 

 

 

‘f,‘j“ff!1;~p_-

 

i.

 

.“mam”..._.....cwfimagg*;;r;mww A» _ V

 

Gordon Lillie. . 29

 

trunk with a. thud that shook it and buried itself
deep, whilea c ' of approbation arose—the edge had
grazed Night ul‘s ear, barely scratching it, and
proving the skill of the warrior.

The second thrower‘s a: went wide of the mark,
and he retired discomfited amid the jeers of his
com anions; when the third, he who would surely
kill {he prisoner, stepped out. poised his tomahawk
lightly in his hand, surveyed his victim' who looked
scornfully at him—with a sncering smile and leap-
ing forward, sent the deadly missile whizzing to-
ward the tree.

But at the moment he lanched it a wild yell dis-
concerted his aim, and the ax tlew harmlessly by
Night Owl, while a thundering tread was heard and
a tall, weird horseman, breathing fire and smoke,
and bearing on his head a huge pair of antlers, sped
into the glade. while, amid a cry of—

“The Wild Hunter!"
the Creeks scattered and tied in every dil‘FciiOn,
while the rider. cutting the bonds that bound the
prisoner, drew him up behind him, and in a moment
more disappeared.

Gordon ad saved his friend.

 

CHAPTER XVII.
A WHOLESALE 'rnnrr.

WHEN they rode into the Agency the ludian was
so wcak that he could scarcely sit his horse, and
Gordon had to support him and aid him to dis~
mount. but he was scan made comfortable, and re-
latcd the story of the boy’s courage and daring, so
that Gordon soon became a greater hero than over.

By his request the rescued man did not go into
particulars regarding the disguise that had proven
to effective, as Gordon did not wish the story to be-
come too widely circulated, preferring rat-her to let
the (‘reeks remain in ignorance of the true solution
otthe problem; for he know that t a story would
spread and perha s interfere with any plans he
might conceive in t- 1c future.

So be carefully locked away the different articles
he had received from Robic and kept his own counv
sci, while the Night Owl promised strict silence on
his part, and as none of the Crooks ven'ured near
the Agency. the tale of the night’s rescue was, for a
time at least, thoroughly believed.

Kch n ) by various duties during all the next day,
when nir, it came Gordon was completely tired out,
and seeking his quarters was soon sound asleep,
buried in a profound and dreamless slumber that.
lasted for hours.

But suddenly his rest became disturbed as with a
nightmare and, after rolling and tossing about for
sometime he awakened and sprung up in bed and
listened intently.

There was a choking sensation in his throat and
he noticed a uecr smell like smoke from a burning
building, whi e the sound of cries and exclamations
came to his ears.

Springing to his feet, he hurriedl dressed and
hastened outside, when a bright; giaro burst out
over the entire scene spread before him and a
volume of smoke and sparks dr0vo him back from
where he was standing, the wind blowing directly
toward him from the] burning mass. '

Not far from where he stood was a large corral
or pen for horses and on one side of this stood
a hu 0 stack of ay. The corral contained two
or, t ree hundred head of horses. belonging to
the Agency, and was built of stout logs set into
the ground and supporting cross-pieces of lighter
timber. . -

But now, in the full glare of the blazing hay,
Gordon could see that there remained not one
horse in the inclosure, and that the tire was
m iidly increasing. the sparks driving inward the
viliage and threatening to set fire to the houses.

And a thundering, rolling sound of hoof-beats
canto to him from over the prairie, asthe frightened

herd swept away, urged on in‘their mad. flight
by yells and cries and the cracking of whi s; while
hercahzed that a raid had been made by 1 1e horse—
thieves, and that every animal in the village had
been stolen, leaving no means of pursuit, and that
the raiders had fin-d the stack that the {lanes might
thrvaten the Village and occupy the. attention of all
persons about the Agency.

They could thus get well on their way to the
north, and then dividing up into smaller hands, scatr
ter to east and west: and dispose. of their looty to
any one who might wish to buy and who wrsnr t h o
particular withhis questions relating to [to N lln's
antecedents.

Instantly comprehending the situation, Gordon
raised his fingers to his lips and blew a long. shrill
whistle which might have been heard a mile away,
OVl‘I‘ the praiaie, and at the same moment an an-
swcring neigh came back to him and shortly his
horso- the black one given him by Robie, came gal-
loping to his side. .

Hastin mounting and entirely unarmed as he was,
he hurried away on a dead run, after the fleeing
herd, and rapidly overtaking them joined in the
chase, yelling as loudly as any of the others and,
the darkness being intense, evidently mistaken by
them for one of the band.

And so they swept on until the glare in the sky
from the burnirg corral lay far behind them, and
Gordon wasstill unrecognized; but came to the con-
clusion that if anything was to be done. it must be
accomplished soon, as daywould soon break and
his identity and non-membership of the band be ex‘
posw .

lint how to proceed he knew not. for there were
at least twenty of the men who would 5 "‘ely shoot
him withouta moment‘s notice if they iscovered
that he wasa stranger; so riding up alongside of one
of them, he endeavored to learn, without betraying
himself, where they were going, and how soon they
would stop.

And in this he was successful. for the other, ap-
parently not familiar with the lay of tilt country
where they were, and mistaking Gordon for one of
his friends, addressed him:

“Say, Curt," he began, “how fur is it ter Little
Greasy, anyhow i"

. “ Whar from?“ rejoined Gordon, making his voice
as gmfi as possible, and using the Western dialect.
as well as he could.

"‘Whar frum,'yc blessed ijntl whar d’ye sup-

se from?"

“ Hanged of I know."

“ \V'y from Pawnee, in course.”

” Wal. why didn‘t yer say so?”

“ liuiller Springs air seventeen mile from Pawnee, .
an' Little Greasy air three mile trom Bufiler
Springs.

“Does yer know enufl' 'rithmetik tcr kalkcrlate
a little problem in mathermatiks?"

“Cert! twenty mile; an’ we‘ve come about fire.
“ Ef tl'er Cap don’ stop plurty soon I’ll-"

What was to follow t is last mmark is forever
lost to history. for Gordon, seeing that the “Lre
well separated from the rest of the band, eancd
over as it to fix his boot. and riding close to the
other caught him suddenly by the lei.r and tossed
him far over on the other side of his horse before
the desperado realized what he was about to do. and
the man la stunned while the rest swept on unno-
ticing this ittlc hy-play. ' -

And still riding close to the other horse, Gordon
removed the saddle and bridle and laced them on
his own steed—a. matter of no little imcuh y at full
gallop—for he had been riding bare-back and with
no saddle.

But; in his difficult task he was aided by the intel-
ligence of the noble animal which carried him and
was soon seated in a handsome saddle and holding
the lines of a plated bridle that was profusely
adorned with silver ornaments. »

He soon saw that his horse was far speedier than

 

 

'1
S
a
»

 

»

 

 

 

 

 

30 ‘ gal-don Lillie.

 

 

any of the others and, knowing how a herd will fol-
low the hell. determined to put an idea he had con-

, ceived into execution.

His other horse, which was galloping along with
the herd, had a bell, fastened by a strap to his neck:
but it was deadened by having a cloth tied about
the cla per, for when the horses were in the corral
the hel was not needed and was only used when
the were turned out to graze over the prairie- for,
in t is broken country a man mi ht pass near them.
when looking for the herd, am not be aware that
they were in the vicinity.

And the herd will always follow their leader as a
flock of shoe does the bell-wether. so accustomed
are they to t is usage.

Urging his horse, therefore, into the midst of the
herd, he, as the animals scattered and allowed him
to pass, uttered, at intervals, at low cry of a peculiar
nature, with which he was accustomed to call his
horse to him, and was soon rewarded by hear-in a.
low whlnny of recognition in answer, and. drawuig
near the sound, he saw his favorite, distinguished
from themes“; by his silvery mane and tail.»

Urging his horse close to the galloping animal, be
bent over, and in a moment, unbuckled the strap
which held the bell, and fastening it around the
neck of the horse he was riding, he again spurred
on until he was a little ahead of the hard. when he
unmuflled the clapper and the tinklin chime rung
out loud and clear in the direction of t e sound.

And then he urged his horse on to a more furious
pace, and as the bell rung its signal the herd,
sweepin onward like the wind, gradually converged
toward t e point where he was riding and followed
as one animal.

Swervlng of! to the left he drew the band of horses
after him and despite the shouts, the oaths and the
cries of the horse-thieves they followed steadilv
on and describing a huge c role, at length struck off
straight toward the camp, rapidly drawing away
from the thieves whose horses, tired and bearing the
weight of their owners, could not keep up wit the
riderless steeds.

And so they faded away-from the sight of their

ursucrs who gradually abandoned the chase; all
gut one, their leader, believing that there' was no

advantage to he gained in following the herd any '

further. V ’
 But their leader, magnificently mounted. and

 

boiling with rage at thus seeing his magnificent
booty snatched from his very hands by some mys—
terious agency, spurred on and on, finally being re~
worded by hearing the roll of the horses‘ hoofs sound
less rapidly on the frozen ground. as Gordon, believ-
ing that he had left the band of liorsevthieves far in
the rear, gradually drew rein and slackeucd his

pace.

But the quick ear of the lad soon (-au ht sound of
the rattling of a curb-chain. and realize that one of
the men was still in uisuit. so galloping uietl
along. he slid down 11 ongsidr- his horse, on wit
one hand grasping the l‘ell, to silence it. ran along-
side his horse for a couple of lundred 'ards.

And as the ursuer a ;p1'oached. the oy could see
his form out ined against the sky, while the other.
seeing that the horse alongside which he wns. was
saddled, drew his revolver and fired straight at the
head of the black.

But at that moment his horse threw his head high
in the air, and received the bullet throu h one of his
ears, and, snorting with pain, he houn ed violently
in the air, and, unsealinghis rider. threw him to the
ground, where he was speedily crushed into an un-
ilistiluguishable mass by the boots of the galloping

lel'( .

And Gordon. as the other horses, frightened by the
report of the revolver. came madly on, again hoped
into the srddle, ard allowrd the bell to ring again,
and soon rode into the Agmcy. followed by all of the
stolen horses, \llllch were soon safely corrnled, lho
fire having been (xtinguished before it had materi-
ally injured the fence.

CONCLUSION.

Gordon remained for some little time longer in the
Nation and continued to new ,v the post of inirr-

roter until the summer of 1 when he leftil‘o
ndian Territo and joined Hon. W. . Cody’s:
“ Buffalo Bill ild West ” Combination nud Is Still
with them.

He is the same quiet, retiring, unassuming man
that he always has been, and makes friends when
ever he goes among all with whom he becomes as-
sociated.

He is still young, and is destined to make his mark
in tho, world in whatever line of life he may be found
and if good wishes can bring him success, he will
surely achieve it.

In}! nun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

3
.253 The Bo

BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY.

 

252 Denver Doll's Device; or, The Detective Queen,
Edward L. Wheeler.

Tenderfoot: or, Roaring Ben Bundy of
Colors. 0. By Capt. Mark Wilton.

254 Black Hills Ben; or, Dutch Jan on the War-
Path. By Maj. Lewis W. Carson.

255 Jolly Jim, Detective; or, The Young Protege‘s
Victory. By Charles Morris. '

256 Merle Monte’s Last Cruise; or, The Sea. Robber
at Bay. B 001. Prentiss Ingraham.

‘257 The Boy Chief of Rocky Pass; or, The Young
California Paras. By Maj. E. L. St. Vrain.

2438 Denver Doll as Detective. By E. L. Wheeler.

259 Little Foxeye, the Colorado Spy. By Oll Coomes.

260 Skit. the Cabin Boy. By Ed ward \ 'illett. _

261 Blade, the S ort; or, the Giant of Clear Grit
Camp. Bfi .C. Harbangh.

252 Billy, the oy Rover. By Cot. P. Ingraham.

263 Buster Bob‘s Buoy' or. Lige, the Light-House
Keeper. Bv Capt. . F. 0. Adams.

264 Denver Doll's For her; or, Big Buckskin the
Sport. By E. L. Wheeler. .

265 Billy, the Baggage Boy: or, The Young Railroad
Detective. By Charles Morris.

266 Guy‘s Boy,.Chum; or, The Forest Waif’s Mask.
By Ch t. Comstock. '

2fi7 Giant :eo ge‘s Revenge; or, The Boys of “ Slip-
ifiMine.” By Buckskin Sam. V

268 e Deadshot Dandy; or, The Rio Grande
Marauders. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

269 The nartzville Boss; or, Daring" David Darke
By E ward Willett.

270 Denver Doll‘s Mine; or, Little Bill’s Big Loss.
B E L. Wheeler. ,

271 Egor-y Jim‘s Terror; 0r, Ranger Rainbolt’s Ruse.
By Oll Coomes.

272 Kit, the Girl Detective. By T. C. Horhaugh.

273 The Girl Rider; or, Nimble Ned’s Surprise. By
Joe. E. Had er, Jr.

274 Dead Shot andy’s Double; or, Benito. the Boy
Pard. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

W5 Fred, the Ocean Wait; or, The Old Sailor";
Protege. B Charles Morris.

276 Deadwood )rck 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; 01-, Little Snap Shot’s
Luck. By T. C. Harbaugh.

279 Colorado Jack. the Tiger; or, The Ghost of the
Trailer. By Frederick Dewey.

280 Dead Shot Dandy’s Last Deal, or, Keno Kit's
New Role. By Col. Prentiss lnzraham.

281 Ned, the Boy Pilot; or, The Pirate Lieutenant’s
Doom. By rick Farragut.

282 Buck Hawk. Detective; or. the Messenger B7y’s
Fortune. By Edward L. Wheeler.

5383 Rovmg Sport Ki ,; or, The Ghost of Chuckaluck
Cam . By Edward Willett.

284 The bhowman’s Best Card; or, The Mad Animal
Tamer. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

285 Old Rocky’s Ford; or, Little Ben’s Chase. By
Buckskin Sam. '

28g Dick, the Dakota Sport. By Charles Morris.

28. Ned, the B0 Ski per; or, The Sea Sorceress’
Cruise. By ack arragut.

238 Deadwood Dick’s Disguise; or, Wild Walt, the
Sport. Bv Edward L. Wheeler.

289 Col irado Nick, the Lnssr-ist; or, Old Si‘s Protege.
By Major H. B. Stoddard.

290 Rube, the Tenderfnot rr, the Boys of Torpedo
Gulch. By Major E. L. St. Vrain.

291 Presenck Pete, ihe Leadville Sport; or, Hawk, the
Boss Miner. By Albert W. Aiken.

293 Joe Morey, the Night-Hawk: or, the Black Rider,
By Jos. . Badger, Jr.

293 Dwarf Jake. the Detective; or, Kit Kenyon's
Man-Hunt. By Edward Willett. I

294 Dumb Dick‘s Ford; or, Eliza Jane, the Gold
Miner. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

295 White Wing, the Ferret Flycr. By Chas. Morris.

3396 Gavinda, the Tigeb'l‘amer; or, The American

orseman By Captain F. Whittaker.

 

I

297 Arizona Giant George; or The Boyees or Sardine-
Box City. B Buckskin gain.

298 Daisy Doll's ash; or, The Ten Colorado Perils.
By '1‘. l. Harbaugh.

299' T ie Balloon Detectives; or, Jack Slasher’s Young
Pard. By Barr Enton.

300 Deadwood Dick 3 Mission. B E. L. Wheeler.

301 Dandy Duke. the Cowboy. y Major E. L. St.

ram.

302 Big Benson’s Bet. By T. C. Harbsugh.

803 The Hotel Boy DetectiVe; or. The Grand Central
Robbery. By Charles Morris.

304 Bald Head’s Pard; or, Creeping Cat‘sVCunning.
By Buckskin Sam.

805 Dusky Dick‘s Duel; or, The Demon’s Trail. By
Harry Hazard.

306 Spotter Friz; or, The Store-Detective’s Decoy.
By E. L. Wheeler.

30? Nick, the Bag Sport; or, Three Plucky Pards.
By Major E. . St. Vi‘ain.

308 Double-Fisted Mat: or, The Mystic California
Giant. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

309 O.d G'aybeard’s Boy: or. The Girl‘s Ruse. By
C. Dunning Clark.

310 Kit, the Girl Ca tain; or, The Mad Sailor‘iI
Legacy. By Col. entiss Infiraharn.

311 Eric Freo in Texas. By Buc skin Sam.

612 The Detective Road-Agent' or The Miners 0t
Sassafras City. By Edward L. Wheeler.

31:: Honest Jack‘s Protege; or. The Dwarr's Scheme.
By Philip S. Warne.

£314 clip the Boy Sheriff' 0*, The Two Crooks of
Montana. By Edward Willett.

015 Tom the Arizona Sport: or, Howling Hank from
Har Luck. By Major E. L. St. Vrain.

016 The Street Arab Detective; or, pick Dorgan‘s
Double Dealing. By Charles Morris.

31'? Buckskin Ben of Texas; or, Single Eye’s Plucky
Pards. By Buckskin Sam.

318 Colorado Char le's Detective Dash; or, The

Cattle Kings. By Edward L. Wheeler.

319 Frisky Fran't in Idaho; or, Old Skinflint thew
Shadowoi'. By Roger Starbuck. ,

320 Cool Sam‘s Girl Ford; or. Captiiu Dick and His
’l‘rxans. By T. C. Harbqugh. _ I

.521 Billy, the Kid from Frisco; or, Silver Mask’s
Clew. ly J. C. Cowdrick.

322 Fred Flyer, Detective; or, Abe Blizzard on Deck.
By Conrlcs Morris. .

323 Dead Shot Ike in Montana; or, Hez Helper, the
Yankee Purd. By Roger Starbuck.

324 Kit, the Denver Sport; or, The Bonanza Miner
King. By Edward L. Wheeler.

325 Dusky Darrell the Camp Detective; or, The
Dandy’s Daring Dash. By Edwin Emerson.

326 Roy, the Boy Cruisor: or, The Water Wolt
Wreckers. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

327 Ned, the Roving Miner: or, Arkansaw Jack's
Match. By Barry Hazard.

328 Rocky Ben's Band; or, Big Pete's Big Haul. By
W. J. Hamilton.

329 Dave, the Colorado Wrestler. By Maj. E. L. St. .

rain. r

330 The Denver Sport’s Racket; or, Kit’s Big Boom.
B Edward L. Wherler.

331 T e Coast Detective; or, The Smuggler Shadow-
er. By Roger Starbuck. ,

332 Dakota. Dan in Canyon City: or, Colorado Kate‘s
Check. ByPhilip S. Warns. ‘

338 Bootblack Ben, the Detective- or, Pooler Jim
and His Pard. By Antho'fiy P. Morris.

334 Frisco Tom on Deck; or, ie Golden Gate Smug-
glers. By George Henry Morse.

335 Ben Bandy, the Boss Ford; or, The Plucky

Parson. B J. Stanley Henderson.
336 Fred, the %rt, in Brimstone Bar Cam 2 or.
$115. Bloston restler’s Confederate. By .L.
ee er.

337 Daisy Dave the Colorado. Galoot; or, The Boss
of Dead Line Cit . By T. C. Harbaugh. ' V

338 The Gold Bar De tire: or, Iron Ike, the Solid
Men. By Mum E. L. St. Vrain.

 

‘ BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY.

 

839 Rardo, the Boy Gypsy; or. Reckless Rolt’s Re
volt. By Wm. G. Patten.
310 Billy Bubble’s Bi Score. By Charles Morris.
841 Colorado Steve’s ash; or, Old Buncomb’s Sure
, Shot. By Philip S. Warne.
843 Snap—Shot Sam; or, Ned Norris‘s Nettle. By

Bucksin Sam.

343 Mike, the Bowery Detective; or. Pelee; Prancer
of Vermont. By Edward L. Wheeler.

844 The Drummer Sport. By Edward Willetf.

345 Jaques, the Ilardpan Detective; 01‘. Captain
Frisco the Road-Aeront. By J. C. Cowdrick.

846 Joe. the Chicago Arab. By Charles Morris]

347 Middy Herbert’s Prize; or The Girl Captain‘s
Revenge. By Col. Prentiss nzraham.

348 Sharp-Shooter Frank. By Buckskin Sam.

849 Buck the Minor or, Alf, the Colorado Guide.

Maj. E. L. St. train.

850 ed. the Slab Cit Sport. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

85i Roc Mountain 00. By Col. T. H. Monsfcry.

352 New ork Tim; or, The Boss of the Boulevard.
By Charles Morris.

853 The Girl Pilot; or. Ben, the Reef-Runner. By
Roger Starbuck.

354 Joe. the Boy Stage-Driver. By Maj. St. Vrain.

355 Texas Frank's Croné; or, The Girl Mustang
Rider. By Buckskin am.

856 Idaho Ned, Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler.

857 Guy, the Boy Miner. ByICol. P. Ingraham.

858 Jersey Joe, the Old Tar. By Mrs. Orin James.

859 Dandy Dick‘s Dash; or. The Boy Cattle-King.
By 011 Comes.

860 Jim’s Big Bonanza: or, Jake Dodd and His
Gang. i; W. J. Hamilton.

861 Oregon Pill. the Sport; or, The Marshal of Two
Bits. B Philip S. Wmne.

862 Kit, the ootblnck Detective. By E. L. Wheeler.

363 The Ocean Racer; or, Trusty Tom, the Tar. By
'1‘. C. Harbaugh.

884 Fritz's Old Score; or, Sib Cone‘s Right Bower.
By Ned Buntline. .

865 Crack Shot Hariiy: or, The Masked Rider. By
Colonel Prentiss nmaham.’

866 Gold Dust Rock. the Whirlwind of the Mines.
By G. Waldo Browne.

86F“ Fred's Bold Game. By Paul Bibbs.

368 Jim. the Sport in Wakeug By Ed. L. Wheeler.

869 Captain Blake’s Jonah. y Roger Starbuck.

870 Denver Kjt’s Double. By Major H. B. Stoddard.

371 Blue Blazes Dirk; or, Danger Doll of Dynamite.
By T. C. Harbaugh.

» 872 ’l‘ e Sea Cat's Prize. By Col. Prentiss ingraham.

8'73 Lorry O'Lynn's Dash; or, Kyle, the Renegade.
B Joseph F. Henderson.

874 J m, the S ort’s Big Boom: or, The Bonanza
King’s Riva By Edward L. Wheeler.

875 Bowe Bob, Detec'ive. By Jo Pierce.

876 Bucks in Dick‘s Clean Swee : 01', Jonathan
Jenks’ Still Hunt. By Col. Art llll‘ F. Holt.

877 The Deadwood Sports. By Licui. S. G. Lansing.

878 Bronco Billy. the Saddle Prince. By Colonel
Prentiss Ingraham.

879 Dick. the Stowaway' or. A Yankee Boy‘s Strange
Cruise. By Charles orrls.

.830 Your: Dick Tolhot‘ or. A Boy’s Rough and
Tumb 8 Fight from ow York to California. By
Albert W. Aiken. .

881 Dandy Bill‘s Doom; or, Deerhunter, the Boy
Scout. By Oil Cooms.
882 Wide-Awake George. the Boy Pioneer. ByEd.

Willet.
383 Wild Bill, the Pistol Prince. By Col. Inmham.
884 Brimstone Bill’s Booty: or, Mariposa Marsh at
, Dead Matt‘s Gulch. By Jose h E. Badger. Jr.
886 The Boy Tramps' or The oughs of Demon
Hollow. By J. M. ‘Hoffman.
85 The Montana Kid; or Little Dan Rock's Mis-
sion. By Morris Redwing.
88?? The Boy Detectives. By '1‘. C. Hmbangh.

 

388 The Pon Express Rider; 01-, Buffalo Bill's
Frontier eats. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.
389 New York Bill. the Dodgi-r By Edward Willett.
390 The Tlcket-of-Leave’s Trick; or. Spring Steel,
King of the Bush. By J s< ph E. l‘adger, Jr.
391 Charley Skylark, the Sporr. By Maj 1' Henry
B. Stoddard.

392 Texas Jack. the Mustang King. By Colonel
Prentiss In raham.

 Peter. the andv Greenhorn. By Noah Nuif.

391 Tom Temple’s Big: Strike. By Barry Ringgold.

396 Harry. the Country Boy, in New York. By
Charles Morris.

396 Detective Paul‘s Right Bower. B C. D. Clark.

397 Tip Tressell. the Flatboat Boy. y Ed. Willi tt.

398 Captain Jack in Rock Roost. By Col. lngraham.

399 Harry Somers. the agieian. By S. W. Pierce.

400 Black Horse Bill, the Bandit Wrecker. By
Roger Starbuck.

401 Tim. the Mule Boy of the Mines. By Chas. Morris.

402 Flatboat Fred on the Mississippi. ByE Willett.

403 Jake, the Colorado Circus Boy. By Bryant
Bainbridge.

404 Texas Charlie's Wild Ride. By Col. P. Ingraham.

405 Wide-Awake Ned; or, The Boy Wizard. By
Barry Ringgold.

406 Giant Pete and His Paras. B T. C. Harbauiih.

407 Old Rufi's Protege; or, Little ' e‘s Secret. 3y
Captain Bruin Adams.

408 Stowaway Dick Abroad; or, The Desert Rover.
By Charles Morris.

409 Doctor Carver, the Champion Shot. By Col. P.

Ingrahem. .

410 Captain Flg-By-Night. the Colorado King-Pin
By Joe. E edger, Jr.

411 New York Jack’s Mrttle; or. Old Traps and His
Chums. By Barry Bin gold.

412 \S‘m‘n tStpence, the Bree. horn Boy. By Edward

'i he .

413 Revolver Billy in Texas; or. The Lone Star State
Rangers. By Col. 1’. lngruham.

414 Dasher Dick‘s Dead Lock; or, Plucky Joe1 the
Boy Avenger. By J. M. I-Iolrman.

415 Pony. the Cowboy Chief. By B. B. Stoddard.

416 Panther Dick‘s Death Lenfi. By A. F. Holt.

417 Fighting Fred of Frisco. y T. C. Herbal) h.

418 Buckskin Sam‘s Wild Ride. B ' Col. P Ingra am.

419 Frisco Guy‘s Big Bonanza. y R ‘ger Starbuck.

4% Pat Mulronny’s Pard. By Emerson Rodman.

4-31 Tim, the B0 Acrobat. By Charies Morris.

422 god Spur alph, the Texan. By C. Dunning

ark.
423 Dashing Bob. the Pony Express Rider. By Col.
Prentiss Ingraham.
424 Tom Stone, thv Old Sen Dog. By C. D. Clark.
4% Durky J umble‘s Wild Ride. By Bar Rinrgold.
426 Wolf-03%; or. The Night-Hawks o the Fire-
Lands. y Cant Chas. Howard.
427 Bessie the Border Girl. B Henry J. Thomas.
428 Night-Hawk George. BE nl P. In aham.
429 Bill Beeler‘s Bonanza. y Edwnr Willett.
430 Long Shot; or, The Dwarf Guide. By Captain
Comsiock. ’
431 Lillie. t '18 Reckless Rider. By Maj. H. B. Stod-
dard, Fix-Scout.
432 Cool Clark's Rash Race. By Charles Morris.
433 Old Grizzly in the Rockies. By 001. Prentiss
lngraham. Ready April 27.
434 J co. the Rover Sport. By A. H. Post.
Ready May 4.

A New Issue Every Wednesday.
anm's Poorer LIBRARY is for sale by all News-
dealers, flve cents per copy, or sent by mail on re-
ceipt of six cents each.
Bmm mu Arms, Publishers,
98 William Street, New York.