i‘ - 5'65 r’ J Copyrighted, 1836, by Bun“ Ayn Alusfl. 12: um! at 'n— l' q lllhte u'. \«n’ Yum, \, x . l1"n~- M u] Mann. . Published Weekl b Beadle and Adams 1- 1-». 3.3312. N0. 99 WHJJyAMyS-r” NEW YORK. ’ Fiverééntm N0: Or, Lost on the The Border Rovers; Overland Tran, BY J. MILTON HOFFMAN. THE BOYS WERE Pomusl TO HAVE THEIR HORSES: THEY COVLD ONLY KEEP (‘LOSE TU TEE rm, PREPARED TO :HOOT EVERY ONE OF THE RAVENOK‘S BRl'TlLS THAT MENACED TEE“. 8 The Border Rovcrs. The Border Rovers ; Lost on the Overland Trail. BY J. MILTON HOFFMAN, AUTHOR or “ NOBODY’S BOYS,” ETC. CHAPTER I. CROSSING THE PLAINS. THE first picture is that of a canvas—covered Wagon drawn by two stout horses, a boy of six- i teen or seventeen years of age crouched up in the forepurt of the wagon driving the horses, another boy of about the same age, with a long rifle over his shoulder, walking beside the wagon, two brisk-looking ponies, bridled and saddled, quietly bringing Up the rear; and a coal—black dog of powerful build trotting along under the wagon. The second picture is that of several canvas- cOVered wagons, a dozen or more men, nearly as many women, a number of children, and a miscellaneous collection of cattle, horses, dogs and other animals. The two ictures represent two independent parties, eac apparently having the same pur- pose in view—crossing the plains. The distance between the two parties, on the ‘ evening of which we write, was about five miles. Neither was aware of the presence of the other, and, as it happened, both went into camp that night about the same time and began to make preparations preparatory to spending the night. The first party was composed of two young men, Frank Rivers and Henry Richardson, aged res ctively sixteen and seventeen. Both were we 1 Connected, their parents and other relatives . living in California, where they had gone some years before, leaving the boys at school in one of the many academies of the Eas The youths had their choice, either to follow their parents to California by water, or go by land, in either case a long and perilous journey, for at that time all of the great country west of the Missouri-river was a perfect wilderness, and the route by water was by the way of Czipe Horn, almost double the distance that it is now. The two lads chose the land route, and it is while making the long and perilous journey that we introduce them to our readers. “There is an end to this prairie somewhere, I suppose,” remarked Frank that evening, as he cast his eye over the billowy plains which spread out betore them. “I wish we could have found a stream of water, near which to camp for the night, instead of having to roost out on this desolate prairie. I say, Henry, what did you do with the horses?” “Turned ’em loose, of course: what did you suppose I’d do with them? Tie ’em to a tree, when there isn’t a tree within twenty miles of us? Not much; I just turned ’em out to grass. And you are getting supper, I suppose?” - ' “That’s just what Lam doing," replied Frank. “Everything will be ready shortly. I built a fire in no time, and if you will look sharp you will see that the bacon and coffee are cooking in fine style. It won’t be a first class meal, but I guess it will do. There, Henry, spread this can- vas-rug on the ground for a table-cloth. That will do. Now for the supper—bacon, coffee and dry bread, how do you like it? Mighty lucky that we filled our water-can at the lust stream, else there ’u’d have been no coffee tea-night, sure.” , The boys ate heartily; they were very hungry, and the food tasted good. that was left of the repast went to the dog,‘ whose appetite was, as Henry remarked, “ powerful strong.” This dog wasa homeless old fellow, a waif. Y He had put in an appearance at the beginning of the journey, and no effort of the boys could keep him from following them; so, finally, they ceased to bother him, and he trotted along un- concernedly under the wn on. Not knowing his name, or what else to cal him, the boys gave him the name of Misery, and voted im as utterly no-account and worthless. And such indeed was the fact. So utterly good-for-noth- ing was Misery that he wouldn’t resent the bite of a mosquito, and he even refused on every occasion, when such a warning would seem nccnsmry, to give forth a bark or a growl. “ He is a historic-looking old fellow, though,” said Frank; “you can put it down in your Bible that he has seen a mighty sight of rough service in some field of operation. Lordyl 1001: at him out." Misery slunk away to his accustomary place under the wagon, taking with him a huge bone, for company. The boys chatted away good-humoredl , and so the minutes flew by, and the shades 0 even- ing gathered thickly around them. “ The moon is coming out bright and clear to- niglit,” said Frank, looking up at the sky; “it will be full as good as a candle to read by after a while.” “ But what have we to read?” demanded Henry, “light or no light.” “ Nothing—only some old school books, and as for me, I never want to see a school book again.” . “ I guess you are about tired of everything, :zro ypu not, Frank? Tired of this trip per— ho. is?’ “ Well, yes, sort of tired.” - “How far do you suppose we have gone by we on?” . , r “ Three hundred miles, maybe." “ And we have been out ten days.” “ Yes—thirty miles a day.” “ And where are we now?” “ Well, now you stump me. Perhaps we are i in Colorado, or. perhaps we are in Nebraska; anywav, we are somewhere near the foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains.” ‘ “ And California—” ' - ,I‘ “Is more than fifteen hundred miles away. What a couple of fools we were to undertake such ajourney alone." The boys were silent for some whilo, thinking. It had just occurred to them that they had. started out on a very long and tedious journey jiggle which they might never be able to accom- v . . » " " fame-z»... \( t'hn‘V‘” r i 4‘ am”. mm». ,1 j V ‘ «r warm m- “'19.. The Border Rovero. 8 "Well, we are in for it now, anyway,” ob— served Frank, “so we will have to make the most of it.” Still shone the moon quietly down, still glim- mered the stars. ' Frank was restless and nervous; he thought The fire began ‘50 SImower and finally W811“ " he could hear sounds in the distance; his young out entirely. The boys still remained seated on the ground. The moon and stars were shin- l ‘ mind had a premonition of danger. Once he thought he heard a voice near at lug brigIhflY1 and in the“ light the Prairie i band. Helistened. The sound wasrepeated;it seemed like a sea of glass. The horses moved . was Henry snoring, about leisurely, grazing at will. There was no ‘ wmd. £5 Pah In ninny ~ pate; he exclaimed. “I am a regular 1 would be frightened at my “How mighty lonesome it is,” whispered gshadow.” Henry, still crouching on the ground. “Awfull so,” returned Frank. not afraid ’ “ Of whatfi—wolves or Indians?” U Both.” ’ “ I am not afraid of wolves, and as for Indians ——Well, what few we have met have been very friendly.” “If we only had a good dog,” suggested _ Frank, “one who woul be on the alert at night towarn us of dan er—a re ular watch- dog, and not a stick like iisery— should feel more at ease. As it is, any sort of a band of red-skins, however cowardly or small. could gather us in. After this one of us ought to stand guard while the other sleeps.” While they were talking the dog Misery got up from under the wagon and began to move about in a. restless way, evincing more life than he had done at any time since the journey be- an. “‘Ate too much supper, I reckon,” remarked Frank. “ Or else bothered with fleas,” put in Henry. “ Misery, Misery, what ails you?” But Misery did not reply with even so much as a. growl; he still continued to walk about, and his restlesness increased every minute. Present- ly he began to snuff the air, extending his long neck first in one direction, then in another, until finally crouching down upon the ground, he ut- tered his first growl, which was long and low. For some minutes he kept this up, then, as if satisfied with the situation, he returned to the wagon and resumed his usual lazy demeanor. The boys did not know what to think of this singular conduct of the dog Misery. ‘ Somebody must have been prowling about,” averted Frank. . “ But, why should Misery take notice of such an event!” asked Henry; “ he has never noticed anything before.” “ I fail to understand it,” replied Frank; “ anyway, one of us will stand guard to-night, .for it may be that there is danger near.” The boys were well‘armed, having each an excellent rifle, a long hunting—knife and a brace oflpistols. t was agreed that Frank should remain up the forepart of the night, while Henry slept, a change of guard being made some time after , midnight. Henry therefore entered the wagon, in which there was a good bed of blankets, and telling Frank to be sure and call him at once should aiiything unusual occur, settled himself downt. 6 cap. One, two, three hours went by. Frank walked slowly, quietly about, listening and watchlnz. . It was nearly time to arouse Henry; it wasan “Are you ‘ hour after midnight. Frank walked around the wagon and was about to call his companion? name when he noticed a peculiar, lively movement of the old dog Misery, who had risen to his feet and was movin about under the wagon. “W at’s the matter, old dog?” queried the ho . Misery answered with a growl so fierce that Frank was frightened. ’ He called Henry, and the two spoke in whis— pers a moment and then turned to Misery, who was still growling. At this moment a series of startling sounds broke on the air, like the rattle of musketry, the yells of infuriated men, the screams of women and children—all so far distant as to be heard only indistinctly, but still plain enough to strike terror to the hearts of the boy adventurers, who, not knowing what was the matter, could only indulge in terrible imaginings. CHAPTER II. MURDEROUS MISCREANTS. “A HORRIBLE affair,” spoke up Frank ,at length. “ What is it?” whispered Henry. “ A fight, I should say.” “Among whom i” “ Indians} guess; we are probably the only white persons on these plains at present. The red—skins are more than half the time at war among themselves. I say, Henry, how would - you like to witness a battle?” “ First-rate; let’s mount our horses and hurry forward. We need not be seen by either art . p The boys Were soon on horseback forward. , The sounds of conflict continued. , Presently the yells increased in fury; there were louder screams and sharfier firing; then, all of a sudden, a. flame of fire 5 0t up from the ground, and ,riding nearer, the boys could see something of the conflict—a dozen white men engaged in mortal fight with more than fifty mounted Indians, the latter victorious and now shooting the whites down like rats in a pit. Men, women and children were alike being murdered, and their bodies were thrown into the fire which the savages had made out of the Villagons and miscellaneous goods of the trav- e ers. “Not a life spared,” said Henry, as the con— flict drew to a. close. “ If we only could have helped them. It is terrible to see such car- na 9. . g.lt is a wamin for way of the entire n galloping u: to keep out of the race.” ‘ 4 The Border Rovers. “Which is easier said than done“? remarked Henry. “It will be lucky if we escape them now.” A very significant fact, for the savages, hav— ing completed their work of blood, and secur- ing as much plunder as they could carry, were leaving the battle—field, taking a direction, which, if followed, would bring them in con- tact with the two boys, unless the latter should immediately take flight, which they did. Fortunately the Indians did not see them, so instead of returning at once to their own camp. they made a circleof the camp of the murdered emigrants, halting at a point directly opposite where they were a few minutes before. Here they remained quietly for more than 111' hour, debating what to do, not knowing Whethm to return to their own camp or not, fearing that they might encounter the Indians on t!‘ wav. Finally morning broke, and in the gray lit-I afltsie dawn, the boys visited the gory batik e . It was a terrible sight, and once on the spr . where the fiercest fight had raged, the tw. friends brought their horses to a halt, "ll . gazed down upon the blood-red ground, and nu a word was sookrn. Then Frank, after a few seconds had passed, dismounted, and leadinghishorse by the bridle, walked around looking at the wreck. There were boxes and barrels scattered around a wheel of a wagon here and a rel there, dead horses lying on the ground, artxcies of clothing scattered about promiscuously, and last, 'but by no means least, the bodies of the slain, men, women and children, torn and bleeding, lying around, some only headless trunks, others burned and blackened so that they looked scarcely human. The boys did not desire to remain long gazing at such a horrible scene. I “We may as well be off,” said Henry, who was still mounted. “If you see anythng among these traps that you think we can do, better nab it. There is a. feather-bed Slil'lilrlg out of that barrel—go for that; we’ll need it when we go into wintervquarters.” Frank gave the barrel a kick that sent it roll- ing over and over: then he seized it by the two ends and tried to lift it up, but it was too heavy ' for hilm by many pounds, which surprised him eat . So his tried to pull the bed out of the barrel. :91“) it would not come: for some reason it stuck ast. This satisfied the boys that some one was hid- ing in the barrel! “Take both hands to it, Frank,” suggested his companion. Frank did so. he braced himself for a moment and' then pulled with all hi< strength; as a re- sult, the bed was pulled out upon the grounl, exposing to view a human form, but such an one as neither Frank nor Henry had avar seen before. It was a. Chinaman—a little skinny fellow, 'with a perfectly bald head, save along braid of hair, or cue, which hung down his back. The little retreater was scared halt to death. \ and started to run, but Frank caught him, and holding him at arm’s length, said to Henry: “ If there is a name for it let me know what it is.” “Chinamanl” ejaculated Henry. “What 9. looking critterl I’ll give you five dollars for the animal.” “No; I’ll not take less than ten; it’s worth but much as a curiosity.” The boys had never seen a Chinaman before; in fact, they were scarce in this country at that time. “ What were you doing in that barrel?” asked Frank, addressingr the frightened Celestial. “Everybody killee—fightec—me hivlee,” an- swered the Chinaniau. “ 1 no likee to stay “I should think not; it don’t seem to have been a very safe place. W'ere there any more like you in the party?" The Chinaman answered in the negative. He seemed to understand all that was said to him, and could himself talk Very fair English. He gave his name as Chung F0, said he. came from Hong Kong, and was recently from San Fran- cisco. He had crossed the plains a few months previous in company with a California tea-mer- chant, and was on the return trip with the same gentleman when surprisul by the Indians as already related. Chung F0 did not know for certain that his master, the merchant, was among the slain, hut suppmcd he was, although he himself had hid in a barrel at the beginning' of the fight, and therefore was not an eye-wit- ness to the massacre. - Our young friends regarded the Chinaman with no little curiosity. He was to them «singu- lar being. Whether they should like him or not remained to be seen. “ I suppose you will goit alone now, Chung?" remarked Henry, jocosely, as he straightened husclf in the saddle. 'l‘he Chinaman looked piteously out of his al—f I. mond shaped eyes. “Don’t bother the poor fellow; of course he L goes with us. Here, Chung, get on behind me,” ordered Frank. , It required some little coaxing to induce the Chinaman to acaept the proffered seat. He was not an accomplished rider, and his ap- pearance was anything but graceful, hunched up behind Frank, his pig—tail flying in the wind, his thin legs dangling over the horse’s back, and his big mouth stretched from ear to car; he looked more like some sort of ape than like a real human being. “Take a bee-line for our own camp,” said ' v' Frank to Henry,who was in the lead several - yards; “only look sharp that the place isn’t alive with red-skim.” They dashed along. Presently they came in si"ht of the camp. The team-horses were still grazing near by. Nothng seemed to have been (llsll.!‘l)€d. Even the old (10.; Misery was stretched out under the wagon, asleep as usual. Henry boldly rode up to the wagon and dis mounted. Frank and the Chinaman followed suit in a few minutes. The boys were glad to get back and anxious to resume their .jQuruey. The Border Rovers. 5 “ It is a little strange that the red—skins didn’t see our horses and wagon,” remarked Frank, “ they certainly returned this way.” “ But it was dark when they returned.” “ Moonlight.” “ Anyway, it suits us first-rate,” declared Henry. “ It would be mighty unpleasant to be left here on this barren prairie without even so much as a. blanket. I hope nothing so horrible as that will befall us.” ‘ Frank, not having slept any that night, was very tired, so while he rested, Henry and the Chinaman prepared breakfast. After breakfast the boys hitched up the horses, broke camp without ceremony, and were soon moving rapidly away. It was then that they discovered for the first time that they were ln-ing bliowed. A black object in the (ll>hllllCC more than a inilu away caught the eye of the ever watchful lvnl‘ . “ “tht can it be?” he whispered to himself. He called Frank’s attention to the moving ob- joct. "A red-skin, perhaps.” “ Hardly,” returned Henry; “ red-skins go in bands; they very seldom travel alone. I am of the opinion that it is a white man.” “ Let’s halt awhile; perhaps the fellow will Show himself plaincr.” They halted on the open prairie and remained stationery for more than an hour. But the horseman did not come any nearer- he seemed to comprehend what was wanted of ' him, and for some reason or other refused to advance: he even dismounted, and allowed his horse to graze at will. The boys were puzzler] to understand the movements of the stranger. Even the Chinaman noticed the queer inci- dent and silently wondered who and what the man could be. “A miserable campAfollower" said Henry, in disgust, “a prowling thief, perhaps n inur- derer. The follow has no doubt been in our wake several days. I’ll get a. whack at him with my rifle, first he knows.” “ Be careful that he don’t get a ‘ whackl at you first," suggested Frank. “ I have a notion that the fellow means mischief.” “ What sort of mischief?” “ Why, he may be one of a band of robbers, such as I have read about, who live in the mountains and murder and rob travelers. This fellow may be a decoy or spv, who will watch us until we come to the proper place, when he will inform the rest of the band who will bounce down upon us like a lot of vultures. I distrust this fellow mightil ." “So do I,” echoed Henry; “ but what are we to do about it?” “ I don’t know, unless we run him down and capture him. The idea isn't a bad one. Sup- pose we do it?” “Agreed!” nssenred Henry; “ only let’s don’t be in a hurry. Perhaps the fellow will show himself plainer after a while.” Once more they moved on. The sun by this time was high in the sky; and the broad, sweeping prairie shone like a billowy sea. The boys avoided the bloody battle field of the night previous by going,r a mile south of it, then, turning nor‘h, th-‘y re—ontcred the beaten California trail, and rapidly continued on their way. Meanwhile the strange horseman followed tlwm at a safe distance, sometimes disappearing nltngethor, then riding so near them that his outline could he distinctly seen. Still he was careful not to come within speak~ ing distance, and, in fact,‘ kept for enough away not to be recognized as either white or Sed; and upon this point theboys were still in oubt. All that (lay the boys were watchful of the strange object in the distance. They made no- further halts until late in the evening, when, reaching a wooded stream, the only one of the kind they had seen for several days; they came to a. standstill and began to make preparations for passing the night. As usual a, fire was built, blankets were spread upon the ground, horses were, put out to graze, and after supper, which consisted of dried meat, coffee and bread, they wretched themselves upon their blankets and quietly di - cussed the situation. Finally, as the night were on, it was decided that Frank and Chung F0, the Chinaman, should retire for the night, while Henry would stand guard. This was Henry’s suggestion, and it was acted upon at once. “There are two persons whom I intend to watch,” ho muttered, as he was left alone-tho Chinuman for one. end for another, the rays. terious horscninn.” CHAPTER III. THE PHANTOM RANGER. HENRY had a suspicion that the Chinaman was playing a part; that he was not What he seemed to be » a poor, inoifensive creature, with scarcely a friend on earth and nowhere to call his home. And as for the strange horseman, he did not know what to think of him, his movements were so mysterious and he seemed so utterly devoid of any rational purpose. And then, to (ohm-ct this strange person with the Chinmnan. Henry was almost certain he had seen the latter making mysterious signs (tie the stranger, on his last appearance before in '. “It maybe that I am mistaken about this pig-tail chap," he said, “but I thought I saw him signal to the horseman by a movement of his hands above his head. Perhaps I am wrong about this, but it will certainly do no harm to watch ’em both.” He moved his blanket to a. point distant about twent yards from the wagon, and seat- ingr himself it 'lPl'E‘OU. with rifle in hand, began to watch the prairie closely. ‘ By this limo the moon had risen and was shining bright-1y. A few fleecy clouds/were floating in the sky. There was no wind, and the stillness was broken only by the chomping of thr horses grazing near by. No sound even came from thewagon; Frank and the Chinaman 6 ’ The Border Row-rs. were soundly sleeping, and under the we on, also soundly asleep, was the worthlem dog, is« err. An hour passed. Henry was still keeping faithful guard. Another hour passed. This was no sign of any one approaching. The silence was almost sepnlchral. The boy got to his feet and walked around a spell; then he scratched himself upon his blan- ket again, and, finally, despite his efforts to the contrary, his eyes closed, and he was soon, like the rest of the camp, fast asleep. Then, in the moonlight, half an hour later, appeared a solitary horseman riding noiselessly over the prairie. Once he encircled the camp of the travelers, then riding boldly up to the wagon, he gave the canvas cover a vigorous stroke wits: his hand and immediately thereafter darted away a few yards, where horse and rider stood like a statue in the moonlight. Presently the Chinaman alighted from the wagon, and passing around where Henry was stretched out upon the ground, said, in a sharp, piping voice: “ ’Melican boy, oh golly mightv ; lookeel” Henry came to his senses slowly; and looked in the direction indicated by the Chinamnn. “The mysterious horseman,” he said, rising to his feet. “ I say, man or ghost, who are you?” There was no reply; the horseman was like a Flog-if; of marble and as motionless as the ground tse . " Who are on i” again demanded Henry. Still no rep y. Henry brought his rifle to his shoulder. “ Tell me wh are you following us?” he called out. “ have a. notion to shoot you d0wn. ’ At this the strange being burst into a laugh so hideously unnatural that Henry was both astonished and frightened. Following this out— burst the intruder suddenly gave his horse the reins and dashed away. Henry followed him with a rifle-shot, which, however, fell wide of its mark, for the strange rider never halted, but continued to ride swiftly away, and was soon lost to view. “ Gone, gone," muttered the boy, as the stran- ger disappeared. “That was a mighty pnm‘ shot or it would have brought him down. I). have to do better next time, sure.” “ Did you shoot at him. Henry?" asked Frank, ‘ who, hearing the racket, had hurriedly alightcd ,from the wagon. “Shoot at him? I should say I did," replied Henry. “ But what use is it to shoot at a ghost? Did ever an body hit a ghost?” “You rea ly don’t mean to say this strange horseman is not human?” “1 don’t mean to say anything; I don’t know anything about it. I only know that its laugh was not like that of a human being." “ Did you see its face?” “ No, only a dim outline of it.” “And the form?" “ Well, I can’t describe its form no more than I can its face. The appearance of the creature was that or an Indian, crouching in the saddle like a wild animal, a. mass of hair streaming over its face, long arms and legs. and a laugh which to me was simply devilish. Frank, do you know I think this grinning Chinamau is in semenway connected with this mysterious mon- ster. “ What makes you think so?” “ A number of things. Tell me why was it that he was the first to discover the presence of the stranger to-night? I awoke to find him bending over me, and the mysterious ranger only a short distance away. More than that, I can almost swoar I saw this miserable rat-enter si 11:11 to the strange horseman last evening. V but do you think about it?” “I don’t know what to think,” answered Frank. “One thing. I shall watch the China- mun closely after this, and if he gives the least Sign of treachery-” l‘he Chinuman appeared at this moment, and, looking from one boy to the other, said: “Me go to sleep ’gain—me no likee wakes u . Belly bad man make such noise at night. life shootee next time.” With a grin which was meant to be pleasant the Chinaman departed for the wagon. “You may as well follow suit,” suggested Frank to Henry; “it is not near morning yet, and I have already had some rest, while you have not. Go to sleep.” I Henry decided to remain outside on a blan~ (ct. “ Perhaps the horseman will return,” he said. “ No fear of that,” said Frank. “ I venture he is too great a coward to take two such risks in one night.” The rest of the night was passed without ac- cident or occurrence worthy of note, and at daybreak all hands were up, and it was not long before the journey was resumed. Several times durin the day the mysterious, horsemen was seen, u it was plainly apparent that he was still hen on keeping the boys coni- pany, no matter how great a. distance separated them. So the days passed. The boys were becoming very tired of the journey, and more than once they wished that they had never undertaken such a trip. And another thing, it was no certain thing that they were following the right trail. In— deed, it became evident soon that they had gone too far south by more than a hundred miles, and were, in reality, lost. The boys were undecided what to do. Cer— tainly it was not worth while to continue mov- ing along in this uncertain way; and as for , taking the back track, that was out of the‘ question. While in this Eerplexity, the strange horse- man began to me. e himself more familiar than since the night of his sudden advent into the cam of the travelers. “ Vhat does the creature want, I'd like to know,” said Frank; “I live in continual dread of him. This morning I surprised him Within less than three hundred yards of us, and I really believe he had been srlill nearer.” /' " I have a plan to capture him,” said Henry, " speaking up suddenly. “ What is It?” ).., .».«‘!~ “A -. «w ‘ whim ,a or ,of surprise. enough to discover that all that was left of the wagon and other property was a smpldering The Border Rovers. L 7 I ‘ “Let’s go into camp right here, leave the out- flt with our Celestial friend, Chung F0. while you and I will go back half a. mile or so, secure a good hidingrplace, and when this chap comes along~which he is almost sure to do—it will be no trick at all to gather him in.” The scheme struck Frank favorably, and the two boys were ready to carry it out at once. So, informing the Chinaman of their inten- tions, and instructing him to remain there until they returned, they ate a few mouthfuls of bread and meat, then mounting their horses, took a circuitous route which finally brought them to a point in the rear of the camp nearly a mile distant. Here they concealed them- selves ‘as best they could, and prepared to pass the night. By this time darkness had set in, and the prairie was like a vast sea of gloom. “ The follow will not nppeal‘ to-nigbt," as- sured Henry, “but we may expect to see him in the morning, sure.” . . The boys slept by turns that night; early in the morning they were both awake, expecting every minute to observe the stranger somewhere near them on the prairie. And they were not disappointed. Suddenly the strange horseman came into view. He was riding slowly. He did not seem to know that any one was near. “ He is not coming toward us,” said Henry; “ we are as near him now as We can be by re- maining here. Let’s out and alter him.” Without losing a moment they mounted their, horses and dashed toward the mysterious horse-' man, taking him completely by surprise. But the stranger was still some distance away, and being well mounted, he was not so easily overtaken. The boys emptied their revolvors at him, but without effect; he seemed not only bullet-proof, but proof against capture, so easily did he ride awary from his pursuers. Still a lively race was kept up, which lasted for more than an hour. Then the young men drew rein and acknowl. edged that they were beaten. The greater part of the forenoon was con- sumed in making the return trip. The boys were both very tired; it had been a hard ride, and, more than all else, profiles; for that reason the young men did not feel in the best of humor. “ Everything seems to go wrong lately,” re- marked Henry, disconsolately; “.but the worst of all, we have lost our way. It is bad enough to be followed by a specter, like this strange horseman, but when it comes to losing our way in this vast wilderness, that is awtul. What do you think about it, Frank?” ' But Frank did not reply. He was looking at something in the distance-a. wreath of blue smoke curling up from the ground. Henry saw it alumst immediately, and uttered ' “ .t is near our camp,” he said; “ perhaps the l Chinaman is preparing dinner for us. he knows?” They quickened their speed and Were soon within a. short distance of the camp—near 1 mass of embers. In their absence some one had “burned them out.” had even fired the grass around the camp, had stolen their horses and had departed without even so much as a sign to indicate who they were or where they had gone. . A suspicious circumstance connected thereto was the absence of any trace of the Chinaman. There was nothing to show what had become of hing—ninthing to indicate whether he were alive or ea. . CHAPTER IV. ADRIFT ON THE PRAIRIE. “ WHAT does all this mean?” asked the boys, almost in chorus. ' It was a surprise such as they had never re- ceived before. i “ What has become of the Chinamani” asked Frank; “ there is no trace of him anywhere. ” “I have had my suspicions of him all along,” replied Henry, “ and now I can almost swear he is a treacherous scoundrel.” ‘ “ VVhatl you don’t mean to accuse this China- man of having destroyed the camp?” questioned Frank hurriedly. “That is how it looks to me,” replied Henry.) “ Didn’t I tell you that he and this mysterious horseman are in some way connected? U Yes.” “And doesn’t it look strange that While we are in pursuit of this strange rider our camp ‘ should be destroyed. our horses stolen, and the. Chinaman gone? To me it is a. clear case of treachery.” " But could not this work have been done by a roving band of hostile Indians?" asked Frank, still doubtful. “ Yes, of course it could.” replied Henry; “ but in that case wouldn’t the Chinaman have been killed? There are no signs of a murder hereabouts.” The case was a complicated one, and, try their best, the boys could not understand it. But there was one thing they could under- stand, and that was that they were now wholly ‘ ’ and completely adrift on the prairie. ‘ Tue situation was a terrible one if viewed in - an light. tht were they to do? ' - “We cannot retrace our steps,” said Frank, “for we are without food, and the distance is now too great. The chances are that we would ' perish of hunger or be murdered outright.” “ And as for going on,” said Henry, “that is impossible. We do not know the way; we are ost. , ' To remain where the' were was also an im- possibility. The coun ry swarmed with hostile ndians; and then. even should they escape, hung}: from that source, how were they tosnb~ Sis . l “I’ll tell you what let’s do,” said Henry at , length, “ let’s look for the Chinaman. I’ll ven- ' ture that he is not more ban ten miles away, and if so, we may overta 6 him. The rascal had sense enough to carry away a good lot of provisions; he didn’t intend to starve." » . Frank shook his head. He did not believe ' that the Chinaman was a principal in the aflair, A8 ‘ ' ~ The Border Rovers. or that he was in any we connected with the mysterious horseman. owever, he was quite willing to make the‘search if Henry thought best so he said: “ Which way had we better go? If you think the Chinaman has some sort of connection with this strange horseman, perhaps it would be as well to follow the latter instead of the China- man. Any way you please.” To the southwest an unknown number of miles there appeared'to be a wooded stream, or forest, and in that direction the boys finally do- cided to go. In reality it did not seem to mat ter much which way they went, they were sc, com lately adrift. ithout further hesitation they started off. It was serious business with them now. They moved rapidly over the prairie. Both were good riders, and their horses car- Eied them well. The prairie was as level as a cor. ' On, on they went, and neither spoke a word for more than an hour. Gradually the appearance of the country changed; it became broken and rugged, and there were hills in sight. ' “ We are coming to a mountainous country,” said Henr ; “five miles back of us there wasn’t arock to eseen, not even a pebble: now look around us—millions of rocks and stones." “And trees, too,” spoke up Frank, with a movement of his head indicating the direc- 't on. ‘ The afternoon graduall wore away. The boys still continue their journey. When the sun was yet an hour high they reached what seemed to be a. range of moun- tains, clothed withAheavy timber and cut up with dark ravines and rocky canyons. f‘ How horribly wild it is," exclaimed Henry, his voice showing considerable nervousness. ‘ “ I wonder if these mountains are inhabited." “ I suppose so—with wild animals,” answered 7 ank. . “Wolves?” , ‘ “ Yes,—wolves, wildcats,panthers and bears. For all we know to the contrary these moun— tains ma swarm with the wildefi; and fiercest r animals n all creation.” ' “ Well, if so, what are we going to do about it?" asked Henry. - V “ More than I can tell,” answer ed Frank; “ anyway, I’d rather be here than on the prairie; here we are less exposed; we can at least con- ceal ourselves if necessary. How is your appo- tite, Henry?" “Much too good, particularly as we are on— tirely without food. Lucky that we have plenty of matches and a blanket a iece.” The boys concluded to explore t e mountains fora. short distance and see what could be seen. 80 the entered a rocky ravine and rode cau- tiously ong its side. all the while keeping a. close watch for any sort of game, for their sup- per depended upon what they could shoot. Finally Henry saw a bird like a pheasant drumming on a 0g and blazed away at it with his revolver. killing it at a single shot. . “ That was a capital aim,” exolaimed Frank; , “ I’ll bet you could not do it again in fifty Years.” ' w ; “ Perhaps not,” said Henry; “ but for all that you will acknowledge that it was a lucky acci- ent. Theys rung off their horses at once, and it 3' was not ong before a bright fire was burning 1n an open space among the trees; the horses were turned out to graze; blankets were spread upon the ground, and shortly thereafter the bird which Henry had killed was roasting over the fire. . “ The bill of fare is limited to one dish,” re? marked Frank, laconically, as Henry preparer to serve the smoking meat. “ What are we gz ing to do for salt?” “ Go without it,” said Henry. “ That’s about all we can do," replied his fompanion. “How long can a. fellow live on neat alone?” “Not very long on tough meat like this. I say, Frank, I’ll bet this bird was a hundred years old.” “Perhaps so; but it’s the best we can do at present. After this confine your marksman- shi to younger fowls; let the old birds go.” be boys rattled on in this way until they had finished eating, when they carefully stowed away what was left of the meat, after which they be 11 to discuss the situation, particularly that which concerned them at present. “We may!“ as well stay where we are to— , night,” said r V here as we would be anywhere elsoin the moun— tains. There is one thing in our favor; we are well armed.” Besides a revolver apiece, the boys each had a light rifle, and they were also well provided With ammunition. “ How about the horses tonight,” queried Frank; “ are they not likely to stray aWay?" “ 1 think nothit any rate, all we can do is to risk it.” , The evening wore on. The sun had hardly disappeared from view when darkness set~in. Then came the moon and stars. There was no wind, neither was there any dew or other mois—’ ture. It was slightly cold. however, so the boys kept up a good fire, the flames of which often rose high in the air. “Rather n. dangerous signal,” remarked Henry, quietly. ' “How so?” questioned Frank. “ What if robbers or Indians were near. How about wolves and bears?” “ They’d all know just where to find us,” go- knowledged Frank. “ I had not thought of such a thin until now. I hope we’ll not be dis- turbed by ndians, at any rato.” At this moment there was waited on the quileft night air a distant howl like that or a we . The boys started. The howl was repeated. “ What is it?" “I don’t know.” . An hour passad, during which space of time no more such sounds were heard. The boys wrapped their blankets around them, and went to sleep. The fire was still burning brightly, and the moon and stars were still shining. At length about midnight, a long. thin, sharp- ‘ \ ank; “we are probably as safe ‘ r ywrmewggnw . . " The Border Rovers. v 0 nosed animal, with a sneaking gait, crept up to within a few yards of the fire, and stood with extended neck looking at the sleepers. And there he remained standing for several ‘ minutes, and the boys were unconscious of his presence; they were still soundly asleep. Presently the sneakin , hungry creature opened his savage jaws an gave forth a howl that was simply deafening. Both boys heard it, and were on their feet in an instant. Frank seized his rifle, and as the mid- night prowler, which proved to be a wolf, start- ed to run, sent a ball crashing through his head. “ That was a capital shot for you, ’ exclaime Henry, as the wolf rolled over on the ground. “I wonder if there will be any more such visi- tors tonight.” These words were hardly spoken when there came a chorus of fierce howls from the neigh- boring rocks and trees, and very soon from every point of the fire could be seen a dozen or more sneaking, hungry brutes, with flaming eyes and red jaws, ready to devour the young tramps, on the spot. At this moment Henry thought of the horses, and it occurred to him that like as not they would fall victims to the wolves. And such indeed proved to be the case. The poor animals were taken by surprise, and gounced upon, each by a score of furnishing rutes, they were soon literally torn to pieces. The boys were powerless to save their horses; the‘i could only keep close to the fire, prepared to oot every one o! the ravenous brutes that menaced them. After finishing the horses the hungry horde turned their attention more closely to the young travelers Snap in , snarling, growlin , snufiin the air the dusky emons rushed in angd out of %he light of the fire, now_s ringing forward with open jaws, thenas qmc y darting backward, all the while keeping up a terrible and savage roar. Frank and Henry used their rifles with deadly efiect. In the space of an hour as many as twenty red-tongned monsters were killed out- r ht and a number were badly wounded. hen the boys, running short of ammunition, and fearin still for their lives, sought protec tion in the ranches of a tree whichetood near by, where they remained until morning. . Meanwhile the wolves seemed frantic With disappointment, and the woods and hills re- soun ed with their savage howls. CHAPTER V. A DESPERATE SITUATION. As the light of day be an to dawn, the wolves one after another quiet y disap eared, and by the time the sun was up they ha all gone, and the boys were alone. “ ess we might as well get down now,” said enry; “there is not a sign of a wolf about an where; the coast is clear." be boys climbed down from the tree at once. “What shall we do now?” asked Frank. “Count the wolves we have killed first.” They did so as near as they could and the total . amounted to twenty-three. Several of the wounded no doubt had crawled away and died among the rocks. A The young nomads Were in a de lorable situa- tion. Their horses had been ki led, and now they must travel afoot, and, worse than all else, they were not abundantly supplied with ammu- nition. “We may manage to exist a week or two in this way,” remarked Henry, who did not appear very disconsolate under the circumstances. “ There is one thing we must do, anyway.” “ What is that?” “Get out of this ravine; the miserable lace is packed with wolves and other animas. I don’t want such another deal as we had last night.” “Nor I either,” averted Frank; “let's take the back track at once.” As rapidly as their feet would carry them they parted company with the mountain rav1ne. After a long and tiresome walk they found themselves once more on the prairie. Then they breathed easier. “ I am wretchedly tired,” admitted Frank, as they halted a moment to take observations. “And I am wretchedly hungry, returned Henry. “Where is our next meal coming from?” That was more than either of the boys could tell. They moved along slowly, and neither spoke for some minutes. It was now past midday; in a few short hours darkness would be upon them again. Then what would they do? ‘ A walk of an hour brought them to another tract of timber, with rocks and hills scattered here and there in the distance. A sin b stream of water wound its way over the b prairie. “Where does it come from?" asked Frank; looking at the stream. ’ “ I don’t know,” replied Henry. “ Where is it going?" “Neither do I know that." It was evident the boys were losing heart; their courage was fast leaving them. They followed the stream a mile or so, then, as the day was drawing toa close, theyhegan to make preparations for the night. “ This time we’ll try the open prairie,” an- nounced Henry; “ there are no mountain wolves on the prairie.” They found a place near a large, round rock, —-¢for there were many rocks scattered out over the prairie—and here they resolved to pass the ni ht. g‘ Neither of them had artaken of food that day, and both were there ore very hungry. Still no complaints escaped them; they were trying to be very brave. So they wrapped themselves in their blankets and lay down on the cold ground. Henry went to sleep at once. Frank was wakeful. Once he thought he heard the distant howling of wolves. Surely these bloodthirsty' brutes were not going to attack them again. He awakened Henry, and the two listened to the distant cries. “ What it they should come!" 10 “ It would be the last of us,” declared Henry. The boys did not think it likely the wolves would visit them that night, so they put aside all thought of danger and went to sleep again. About midnight Henry was aroused by the nei hing of a horse close at hand. 6 sprung to his feet in an instant; he looked all around him; he walked out on the prairie and looked and listened. _ There was no horse or other object to be seen; the plain was bare; the prairie was as silent as the grave! The boy returned to his blanket, but he could not sleep. It seemed to him that some terrible danger was near. In no way could he account for the neighing of the horse, which he had surely hear . After a while he dropped into a light slumber, and was not again aroused until near morn- 1 . qugain he heard the neighing of a horse; again he sprung to his feet and looked over the prai e. The moon had gone down and the stars alone served to light the gloom. There was no horse visible! An hour passed; light broke in the east, and finally the sun came up and another day was at an . The boys got read to move on, but for all their readiness, they 'new not what to do or where to go. “We must find something to €at,”dccidcd Henry. “I am almost famished. Is there no game along this stream?" - “It seems not,” replied Frank: “ but perhaps ' there are fish in the water that we might catc .”~ This was a new idea, but a good one, so they started {or the stream at once. . . @ut there were no signs of fish in the little water-course, so they started down the stream, keeping an eye out for game. The midday hour arrived, then the afternoon began to wane, and finally the sun went down, and another night was opening to the world. he boys were now scarce y able to move; they were both tired and weak—victims of a terrible hunger. - “ This is awful," said Frank, gloomily. “Food, food, all we want now is food.” Scarcer had he said this when a rabbit bounded from a thicket near at ham], and run- ning a few yards down the stream, halted, and looked and listened. There was the one chance to save themselves. Henry brought his rifle to his shoulder, took quick aim and fired. The rabbit dropped dead in its tracks. In less than five minutes thereafter the juicy -meat was roasting over a brisk fire, and it was not long before the boys were enjoying the best meal of their lives, although it consisted solely of rabbit meat, and that, too, served without salt. , That night the boys declared they were feel- ing very well. Whatever else troubled them, they were at least not hungry, which was an up reciable feeling, certainly. enry collected a little dry wood which he Put on the fire. - The Border ’Rovers. "The nights are a little cool,” he said; “ sup- pose we keep up a fire.” ‘ “And brng down upon us a gang of Indian cutthroats,” returned Frank. “ It is rather risky, seems to me.” Henry changed the subject by asking aboul the mysterious horseman, what had become of him, and if Frank thought he were still follow- ing them. “ We haven’t seen him for more than three days,” was the reply; “perhaps he is now fol- lowing Chin-g: Po, the Chinaman.” “More than likely they are together some‘ where,"ohsc1'vcd Henry. “I still think they were in some way connecter .” The fire burned low and finally died out en- tirely. Then the boys, scraping together a quantity of dry grass, which they made into a bed, wrapped their blankets around them and lay down to sleep. “I hope nothing will disturb us tonight,” said Frank; “I am very tired.” “ So am I,” said Hem-y. “ Let’s go to sleep at onCe.” It was not long before the boys were quietly sleeping. Then adark figure, having the ap4 pearnnr'o of a man, and mounted on a road black horse, came out of the darkness and quiet- ly approached the sleepers. The moon was shining brightly at the time, and in its light the face of the rider looked ghostly pale and grim. It was a face that bore marks of suffering, and the form was that of a man decrepit with age. Astraggling mass of long. black hair gave a wild appearance ,to the hgrseman, a devilish aspect almost indescrib< a 0. Still slumbered the young adventurers, dream- ing: of home and friends. Nearer the horseman approached them, bendA ing in the saddle like a wild animal readv to spring, his glaring eyes looking through a mas! of tangled hair. . Just then his horse gave aloud neigh, which roused the sleepers, both springing up at once )nd instinctively seizing their rifles. “ What was it?” said Henry. "Look! look!” returned Frank, pointing to the horseman, who was as motionless as a block of marble. “ The mysterious ranger,” exclaimed Henry. _ “Speak to him, Frank, and maybe he will re- ; onrl." ‘ p“Who are you’l What do you here?” said the boy. “Speak! man or ghost, and let us know who and what you are.’ . The horseman did not reply, but With a startled look, he whirled his horse around. and then with a cry half of terror, half of rage, dashed away over the plain. “Why didn’t you shoot?” was the cry of each of the boys to the other. . “Never thought of it once, I was so frighten- ed,” acknowled ed Frank. “The same With me,” echoed Henry. “ Will the creature be liable to return again tonight?” “ Not likely that he will; he has seen us once, and that is enough. 1 am certainly not going to lose any more sleep for him. Come, let’s turn in.” . e ‘ v. Jim‘fl‘LM‘ ~.\v..... (“Wise- 3. g. , ""1 The Border Roverl. u Once more the lads laid down to rest, but it was a full hour before either of them was asleep. The mysterious horseman did not return, and ‘ the rest of the night passed without occurrence of any kind. It was broad daylight before the boys awoke; the sun had been up an hour. “ What is the hill of fare for breakfast,” ob- served Henry, looking over the well-picked bones of the rabbit which had served them for supper. “I for one would like mighty well to have a change of diet. I say, Frank, do you think that we are absolutely alone in this wilderness?” “ Wild animals and wilder Indians, perhaps, live here. Look! there go some of the latter now. A party of Indians, as sure as I am alive.” A band of perhaps twenty mounted Indians passed by not more than a quarter of a mile awn V. At sight of them the boys crouched low in the grass. and so remained unseen. The savages were soon out of sight. “I’d sooner starve than fall in with such a crowd as that,” asserted Henry. “So would I," returned Frank; “ but don’t let’s starve if we can help it, so come along, and keep your eye on the lookout for game.” CHAPTER VI. A STRANGE HABITATION. THE boys were at a loss to know which way to go—‘eust, west, north, or south. They finally concluded to follow the stream, hoping that it would lead them out of the wilderness, or at least bring them to a. trail of civilization. So they pushed along, with sturdy determi- nation on their faces, and not a complaint was heard from either of them, although the situa- tion was most perilous. Finally, after trudging along for more than an hour, the boys observed with pleasure a. change in the appearance of the country; the hills were loftier,‘ the trees taller, the rocks larger, and the stream wider; it was a trans- formation that Seemed to promise good luck to the tired and homeless wanderers. “We miss our horses greatly,” remarked Frank, as they trudged along. ‘JI’d rather ride any day than walk. How would it be to build a raft, and float down the stream.” “A on ital idea,” exclaimed Henry, “only I can’t see ow we are going to build a raft with out hammer or nails. Yonder is a fallen tree just ready to float away that we might use as a raft. Don‘t you think it would hold both of us?’ wet riding it. I’d much rather have a real boat, like the Mary Ann we used to use on the Hudson. There don’t Seem to be any conven- iences out in this country.” “None to brag of,” said Henry. “But alsiut this tree for a raft, shall we try to use It.“ Yes.” They went down to the water’s edge. and l were about to push the tree out into the stream when an exclamation from Henry interrupted proceedings immediately. “ A bout, a boat!” he cried, pointing to the Opposite shore. “ Lookl look!” It was even so. There chained to a tree was a small boat, having a. capacity of about three perons. It was a rude affair, but nevertheless a boat, and evidently the property of 5(‘619 one living not far away. Henry thought of the mysterious horseman at once, and wondered if this boat did not be- long to him. “Too ridiculous for anything,” said Frank; “ this boat is either the property of an Indian scout or a white hunter; more likely the latter.” “It would be stealing. I suppose, to appro- priate it ourselves?” said Henry. “ I should say it would,” returned Frank; “ and then we might get ourselves into serious trouble. What if the owner of the boat should catch us?” The boys reasoned the matter over, and finally concluded not to disturb the boat, but, instead, see if they could find the owner, hop- ing that he would be a hunter or some one who would befriend and help them. Leading from the boat up the hill there wasa well-worn path, and this the young tramps fol< lowed for a distance of several hundred yards, when they came to a rocky ledge which formed the base of a high hill. Here the path came to an end, and here was what seemed to be the habitation of a human being; it was a house made almost wholly of huge rocks, the work of nature more than the work of man. Viewed from the outside the place bore the appearance of a rocky fortress. The front only was ex- posed, the sides and rear being each apart of the hill. The door was a strip of deer-skin, and hung loose to the ground where it was fastened on the outside by a. peg which held it in its place. The boys were cautious in their approach of the queer abode. They did not know how the inmates, if there were any, might receive them. Perhaps the place might be the home of some craven creature who would delight to murder them in cold blood. “Keep your rifle ready,” whispered Henry; “ we don’t want to be taken unawares.” “The place is unoccupied," said Frank. “There is not a sound to he heard.” “The proprietor is asleep,” laughed Henry. “ Cautiously now." They listened at the door, but heard nothing; they bgnt their heads, and watched, waited and listene . g . Henry raised the deer-skin curtain and looked “Perhaps so; only we’ll have to get our feet ‘ m “The coast is clear,” he announced; “come on; a nice place in here." The room was large, light and airy; the rocky walls- wore hung with deer-skins, and a. bed of fur occupied. one corner of the room. There was a rude table near the door, upon which were several tin dishes. plates, cups, spoons. ans and several iron utensils used for cooking. hen there was a fire-place and a perfect chim- nay—way, and over the fire-place on a peg hung is The Border Rovers. a large piece of dried deer Inset, and near at n hand on a rude shelf was a small sack of corn- meal. Several cakes of the latter looked into large biscuits were on the table, tempting viands for our young friends. who had been without food since the night before. _ “ Seems to me we have struck it rich,” said Henry; “let’s dive into these biscuit, the first thing: it don’t make any difference who made them.” “Perhaps they are filled with poison,” sug- ges’ted Frank. ‘ _“ I’ll risk it, anyhow,” said Henry. , The boys gave their undivided attention to the food for a little while, and then, after satis- fying their hunger, began to look around for fresh discoveries. Among other things they found a pick and shovel, and other tools for digging, and, last but not least, a treatise on mining, the book well-worn and badly soiled. This latter gave the boys at clew to the in- dividuality of the owner of the habiiation; he must be a searcher after precious metals, 3. , miner of a recluse order. a genius. “ So then there is gold in these bills,” mused Frank, as he glanced over the book. “Gold or silver,” said Henry, “probably both. Maybe the old fellow who lives here has ' made his fortune. Who knows?” ~ They pulled aside the deer—skin door and went outside. ‘ ‘ The sun was shining brightly: it was an hour after midday. The sound of the river running ' , near by could be distinctly heard. ‘, “Where do you suppose the old fellow is?" asked Henry. ‘ ' “How do you know he is an old fellow 3” ' ‘,‘ Just naturally think so; he must be digging somewhere.” , “I suppose so. At any. rate, he’ll find some ’ compan here when he gets back. Woude what he 11 say?” » i ' “He’ll be pleased to See us,” opined Henry, “Ikno’w he will. No doubt he’d like to know something about what is going on in the world, ' p and that’s the sort of information we are chock« full of.” ' The boys walked a short distance away from the house to what seemed to be a shed or stable made of rocks, poles and brush. It was just large enough for two horses, for which purpose r ityms evidently intended, although it contained no such animal. Back of the stable, Where the sun shone the brightest, the boys encountered an agreeable surprise. Stretched out upon the ground half asleep was a large dog, none other than Mis- ery, the lazy old dog known to them more particularly during the forepart of their ilour— neyl He was the same old fellow, just as uzy, just» as sleepy, and apparently just as worthless as ever. “So here is where you live, is it, Misery?” and Frank patted his dogship’s head. Misery indicated in a feeble way his recogni- tiop of the young adventurers by wagging his ml . _, “ Can’t you say something, old fellow?” went on; Frank: “ tell us who your master is, where c be is. and how long you have ,lived in those , parts? I always thought you must have an in» tcres:iing history. Come, if you Can’t talk, bark.” But, Misery was silent, and the boys finally returned to the house leaving him to enjoy uns- molcstcd his dog dreams. The day wore on. Finally the sun disappear» ed behind the hills. Still the owner of the habitation remained absent. The boys looked and waited for him until the night was half gone, then believing that he would not come at. all, they made use of the bed of fur, and were- soon soundly sleeping. It was late when they awoke the next morn ing. The old dog Misery was at the door want- ing to come in. “ Want your breakfast, I reckon,” remarked Henry. “ Well, you shall have it.” The meal was prepared in short order, and as quickly eaten. Then Misery was given his por- tion, which he seemed to relish greatly. Nothing happened that day out of the usual order. Frank and Henry remained in or near the house all the while, not caring to venture on any exploration of the surrounding country. Every moment they expected to see the owner of the place put in an appearance, but the day passed and he did not come: neither did he come that night nor the next day nor the day following. There was something strange in this continued absence of the rightful owner of the house. Perhaps he might be dead, the bovs argued, killed by Indians, or torn to pieces iiv wild animals, while engaged in his daily toil. There was something mysterious about it any- wa v. One night, after the boys had gone to rest, they were startled by the shrill neigh of a horse, sounding very near at hand. They seized their rifles and hurriedly left the room. There was no moon that night: the dark- ness was intense. They could see nothing. Returning shortly to the couch of "fur, they slept until morning. O , Several times that day, while seated in the house, or wandering among the trees and rocks that bordered the stream, were they startled by strange sounds, like some one whispering to himself, the tramp of horses’ feet, the cracking of dry sticks, a subdued laugh or cough—sounds which the young men could not understand and far less appreciate. Once, while they were out a short distance from the house, Henry had his rifle taken from him in a. mysterious way. He had gone down to the water’s edge to bathe his face, leaving the weapon leaning against a rock a few Steps away. He was only a minute absent from his rifle, but when he returned to where he had left it, it was gone. It had disappeared strangely and quiet-- ly, it had disappeared for good. “ And you are sure you did not conceal it somewhere yourself?” questioned Frank of his. companion that night. , “Sure—perfectly sure,” was the reply. “It was taken by somebody, but further than that I know nothing. Can it be that the mysterious horseman is still following us?” ' “ More than probable,” admitted Frank. “I have an idea that he visits us every night and prowls about the house. i .. The Border Rovers. 13 “ Then let’s lay a trap for him." (‘ HOW?” “ Conceal ourselves outside until after mid- night and watch the house.” The idea was a good one; Frank inrlorsed it at once, and the two boys were soon ready to put it into execution. CHAPTER VII. A CHA‘SGE or CIRCUMSTANCES. NOT far from the house, and overlooking the unten path which led to the stream, was a. Sump of bushes, in the center of which was a large rock having numerous projections and angles. It was near this rock that the boys :ound concealment and for the space of three or four hours watched and waited for the com- ing of the mysterious horseman. But they watched and waited in vain; no one put in an appearance, not even so much as a shadow was seen. Discouraged and almost disheartened, the "Joys returned to the house, where they remain- ed the rest of the night. In the morning Henry started out alone, be ing that in the same mysterious way his ri 8 had been taken it would be returned. But no such good fortune befvll him; there was no trace of the rifle anywhere; it had been spirited away for good. While standing beside the stream meditating over the strange occurrence, he distinctly heard the clipping of ours in the river not a hpndred yards away. . “ A mysterious bontman this time,” said the boy; “let me get a sight of him if I can.” He crouched low on the ground and fastened his eyes upon the_stream. Presently a. boat glided into view; it con- tained a. single occupant. a hideous-looking creature having the form of a man, none other than the mysterious horseman. “ Halloo!” cried Henry; “ I wish to speak to you. Hellool" The boatman gave no reply. but redoubled his exertions at the ours, and was soon lost to view among the trees. “ Gone, gone,” exclaimed the boy. “,I wish I had asked him to return my rifle. But then, PM see him again; he shows up now once a day regularly.” When Henry related the circumstance to Frank, the latter asked him why he didn't shoot the stranger when he had such a good opportunity. “ Didn’t have any weapon with me,” was the reply, “ not evou a jackknife." “ And is the boat gone—the boat that belongs to this house t" “ Yes; I looked to see, and it was not in its usual place. The wretch who stole Iny rifle also stole the boat. Darned if such work don’t make me mad.” That day the boys started on their first trip of exploration in the mountains. The purpose of the journey was to See if there was not a. mining settlement somewhere near. which, if there was, they might be able con to continue their overland journe to Cali ornia or return to the civilization of he East. “ We need not got so far away from here that we cannot return; this will be a good place . to fall back on in case we do not find something better. As it is, we are not gaining anything by staying here—only losing time. Let‘s make an excursion of a week’s duration at least.” They comniched making preparations for the journey. Besides a good store of provisions, a quantity of ammunition and a tin cup, which =npplios were furnished by the unknown owneri of the house in which our young friends had been living for some days, Henry procured a rifle from the same quarter, and thus equipped, ‘uhe boys started off. They traveled rapidly at first, and when the nu went down that night they were in the v ighhorhood of twenty miles from where they «rt-ed in the morning, and more than all else had certainly strut-k a trail of some kind, for on all sides were indications of a traveled thoroughfare. “ Pel'hn is this is the regular Overland Trail," suggested 'Icury. “ if so the best thing that we can do is to lo- cate hero and wait for a train.” said Frank. The boys were very hopeful now. They con- structed manyn. castle in the air that night and when, at a late hour, they retired to rest, it was with a feeling that their troubles would soon be at an end. 3’ At midnight, Henry, who was the lightest slee r of the two, awoke. \ e thought he heard strange sounds in the -_ distance. ' “ What ails you, Henry?" demanded Frank; "you are always prowling around like a night- hawk. What do you hear!" “A lot of strange sounds,” replied his chum: ‘ “there were a few rifleshots, if I am not mis- taken. Listen l" A chorus of fierce yells sounded on the on nearly a mile away, then came a volley of mus- ketry, followed by shouts and screams and cries of victory, and then came the trampmg. of horses’ boots, and presently there came into view, just so as to be discernible, a band of r ' mounted red-skins whose only purpose seemed , ' to be to escape from a pursuing enemy. , The darkness prevented a close observation of ' all that was going on, but it seemed to the boys that a battle had been fought near at hand be- tween contending bnnds of savages, with the result as above stat'd. » Our young friends were of course very much alarmed. They feared for their own safety and finally concluded that the Overland Tm; was not the safest place in the world and that it would be policy for them to leave It at once. “ Where shall we gol" asked Henry, now thoroughly discouraged. . “ Anywhere—it don’t matter, only so that WO‘ get away from here," answered Frank. ‘ll am not at all anxious to fall into the hands of these- red devils; it would be certain death.” They hurried away in the darkness, going' they did not know where. and caring less, hav- ing only one purpose in view and that was to escape discovpry by the Indians. The remainder of the night was passed in this; way, and when morning broke the young fugir . , mu]. 14‘, The Border Rovers. tives found themselves deep in the solitude of the mountains—ii stretch of coumry more wild and picturesque than any they had yet seen. On, on they Went, foot-sore and weary, their young hearts quaking with fear and their minds filled with apprehensions most terrible. They were now in what seemed to be a moun- tain canyon, or ravine, along the sides of which were high hills covered with thick bushes and trees, and in the center a dashing stream which had its source high in the mountains. On the banks of this stream the boys halted to rest a. few moments, and it was while thus fasting that they caught sight of a strange igure moving about among the bushes on the opposite shore. “ What is it?” whispered Henry, clutching his rifle firmly in his hand. “ I don’t know,” replied Frank. “A grizzly bear, maybe.” “ Perhaps so. Certainly not a man.” There was a. snapping of the bushes and a rustling of the leaves. The figure did not ven- ture into plain view. “The mysterious suggested Henry. “ Like as not,” returned Frank. “ I wouldn’t: ive much for his life ii‘ I catch sight of him. a have had quite enough of his antics.” Suddenly the movingr figure came into plain View; but it was not the mysterious horseman, not a "grizzly bear or other animal, not an In~ dian warrior, not even a white man, none of these-it was an Indian squawl She saw the boys as quickly as they saw her; but, contrary to their expectations, she mani- fested no desire to evade them. She stared at them a moment and then said, horseman,” in tolerable English: “ White boys, what doing here?” “Nothin --on1y wondering about,” answered Frank. “ hat are you doing here?” “Live here,” replied the woman quickly; “live here long while. Me no wander about like white boys. ’ “And have you ahome somewhere in these bills?” questioned Henry, with a show of curi- os . ‘Y§'es, mighty good home,” replied the wo- man; “plant to eat, plenty to drink; every- thing nice. e‘have husband like white wo- men!” The boys concluded at once that she must be the wife of a white hunter. as they had heard that it happened frequently that these men married Indian wives, with whom they lived contented and happy. “How far is your home from here?” asked Frank. The woman pointed lip—stream and said: “Just little ways; get there soon. White bpvs come with me.” be boys hesitated but a moment. The in- vitation appeared to be Well meant. They de- cided to accompany the woman to her home. The three had not gone far when a horse. grazing on a hill-side attracted the attention of ‘ the boyl. ' There was something familiar about the ani- Tho size, 'color and general up enrance corresponded with one 01 the horses :to on from them, as they supposed, by Chung F0, the Chinanian. “ it’s the same horse,” declared Frank; “ and now the question is where is the thief? Perhaps we shall know more after awhile.” They walked on in silence. Soon they came to a lcdge of rocks, on one side of which was the mouth of a cave. and a little further on a rude house, a part of which was an excavation into the hill-side, the rest being constructed wholly of rock, even to the roof. The entrance to this singular abode was by a winding path which ended suddenly in the house itself. The Indian woman led the way, the boys fol-V lowing timidly. Once in the house they were greeted by a, mu h voice, which said: “ real: thunder! who have we here?" The speaker was a heavy'set, rough-looking man, With as hard and cruel a countenance as the boys ever remembered to have seen. “Can’t you speak out? Who the devil are you?” demanded the stranger. The boys looked frightened; they were evi- dent] expecting such a rough reception. “Vlyliere did you find these precious darlings?" went on the man, turning to the woman, who stood near, evidently enjoying the scene. “ Found them little way off,” replied the wo-‘ man; “ both no account—no money, no nothing. Kill ’em.” The woman laughed hideously. “Before I kill ’em I’ll find out who they are,” observed the man. “ Now let’s hear the clatter of your tongue. Who are you?” “ Only travelers,” replied Henry; “ we have lost our way.” “ Ah! that’s had. How did you happen to lose your way i” Henry began to recount a few of their recent misfortunes. “ Never mind giving me all that rot," broke in the man savagely. “ all I want to know is if you have any wealth about you—any valu— ables?" “ What do you mean?" cried Frank in amaze- men . “ Just what I say!” thundered the man. " I suppose the old woman here gave you the usual lie about her husband being a hunter?” “ And are you not a hunter?” asked Henry in surprise. “ In one sense I am,” was the reply—“ a hun- ter of men. I am the leader of a band of rob— bers, and you are my prisoners." : CHAPTER VIII. AN OUTLAW'S PARADISE. IF ever either of our young friends Were thor- odahly frightened, it was now. , For a. moment neither of them could speak. Finally Henry said: “ We are doing no harm to any one. For what reason are we made prisoners?” The man laughed. “You are two fine blubbers,” he said. “ It is a matter of business with me to take all the Erisoners I can, not for tbe‘prisoners themselves ut for their money. Robbery is my business; , ‘) If i. '5'. 1:M~x&‘fm M Jane”: 5 .nn. . .~._..__.. . A Jim-“w.— . 1-: -"“»s~l wde The Border Rovers. 11‘ bear that in mind. Now, if you have any valu- ables, shell them out.” “ We haven’t anything," declared Frank. “Whatl no money?” “ Not a cent.” "Nor valuables of any kind?” “Nothing but our arms." “ I see—nothing but a couple of rusty rifles. Well, you are poor—very poor. However, rifles are good property to keep in stock, so you may pass them this way.” A rebellious spirit seized the boys at this mo- ment, and quick as thought Henry leveled his rifle at the robber’s head. “F0011 villain! coward !” he cried, “I have a mind to shoot you deadl What right have you to demand our rifles? No, we will not give them up!” As he spoke, the Indian woman, who stood near, blew a shrill Whistle, and immediately there rushed into the room several savage-look- ing men, each with a weapon in his hand. ‘ What? Where? What is it?" they yelled in , chorus. The robber chief pointed to .the young men. Henry had lowered his rifle, and the two stood close together. 1 Sefiing the boys, the crowd began to jeer and au . “ on don’t tell me that either of these chaps show‘d fi h ?” asked a villainous wretch, look- ing fr rank to Henry with a leer. “ Don’t either of ’em look very dangerous." “A cou le of runaways, I reckon,” remarked , another 0 the outlaws. “ Young sneak-thieves, more like,” suggested a third villain. “Did ye find anything valer— able on ’em, captain?" “ Haven’t searched ’cm yet," returned the robber chief. “Here, Jim — Bill—Mose—see that the prisoners are relieved of their rifles. What a lot of fools you are! Suppose those guns shouldgo off? Seize the young rascals at oncel” The boys saw how useless it would be to make any resistance, so they gave up their rifles with- out a murmur. “ Now search them,” said the chief. They submitted to a thorough searching, which resulted in finding nothing of value. This made the crowd boil with rage and disappoint- ment. ' “ uch miserable skunks have no business to live,” was the saVnge remark of one of the rob- ers. “It’s not intended that they shall live very long, eh, captain?” observed another of the 1mg. g “Not if there’s no money to be made out of ’em,” re lied the robber chief. “ Wel there certainly isn’t,” returned the first span er. “ Of course it isn’t at all pleasant to kill ’em, but how can we help it! Let ’em go and they’d be heel: here inside of a mouth with I a. regiment of soldiers, and then what would be- come of us? Oh, no; It’ll never do to let ’em go.» ' This opinion was shared 'by others of the band, including the chief himself, and it was therefore decided at once that the young prison- ers should be killed. but the date of execution was not determined’upon, neither was the man— ner of death made known. “ It‘s all up with us,” muttered Frank, as Henry and himself were being led away. “I wonder if they’ve got a good tight place to keep 5 “Bet they have,” growled Henry. “ Here we are now.” A short distance in the cave wasa large, light, airy room, used by the robbers as a sleeping apartment, and it was here that the young cap- tives were taken, and being thrown upon the floor, wQe securely bound hand and foot. “ We don’t usually do this sort of work,” re- marked one of the robbers, with a savage oath; “ we don’t take prisoners, as a general rule; it’s a bi waste of time and labor.” “ hen why keep us prisoners?” asked hank, reflectively. “Because you are only boys, I reckon,” re- plied the man. “It may be that the captain wants to make servants out or ye—we need a. couple 0‘ good servants.” “ Haven’t you any now?" “ Yes, one—a Chinamnn—” “ A Chinaman !” exclaimed Henry. “Yes, a Chinaman. Didn’t I say so plain enough? He’s a re ular pig-tail Chinaman, and he’s good-looking. e spared his life because of his beauty, the which won’t work in your case, ,bet your boots on that." The boys thought of Chung F0 at once. They wondered if he were not the Chinnman spoken of by the robber. “ How long have you had this beauty, as you ‘ call him?” questioned Frank. 1” About two weeks, more or less,” was the re- y. p “And where did you get him?” “On the prairie; he was going it all alone. “'e jist pounced down upon him, so tospeek. We captured the w hole outfit.” “ Outfit!" ” Yes, thar was a wagon and two horses, and a lot of other truck. V, e set fire to the wagon and brought the Chinaman and the horses here. The pig-tail works hard every day and seems perfectly contented.” The boys were no longer in doubts: tothe identity of the Celestial. - . “ So Chung F0 is also a. t'isoner,” mused Henry. “I was wrong in thin ing that he was in some wa connected with the mysterious horseman. hat there has never been any oom- punionship between them, I am now certain." That night the captive boys overheard the robber chief and several of his men in earnest conversation. “ Things are getting mighty hot here,” said the chief “ and the first thing we know we’ll be run own by a regiment of Uncle Sam’s soldiers. The trouble is we are doing too much killing.” , “ More stealing and less killing, then, you . think!” put in one of the men. y “Yes; now. for instance, these boys; what's l the use or killing ’eml I was in favor of it at $rst,nbut now I am not. Let the young chaps we. There was a murmur of disapproval among the men. ‘ 18 The Border Rovers. “Oh, I don’t mean that they shall have their freedom,” explained the chief. “ not altogether; but just keep ’em under guard for a few days, and see how they behave. Perhaps we may learn something from them that may be used to advantage in our business.” The next morning the boys were told that the robber chief had granted them a few days longer to live, and that, in case they behaved themselves, and did not try to escape, tLeir lives might be spared altogether. At y rate, they were expected to perform the uties of servants, holding themselves always ready to wait upon their masters, at failure of which would subject either or both of them to pain of instant death. With this understanding our young friends were allowed the freedom of the cave, with per~ mission to go outside only when in (company _ with one or more of the robbers. ‘ ' the lot, might at his ' dangerous hands. ' not to have an easy time of it. ‘ ~/ , terror to all those who contemp the rest of his life. It was understood that any one of the rob- bers, from the chief down to the lowest one of leasure take the life of either or both of the oys in case his slightest commend were disobeyed. From this it may be seen that our young friends were in very One slight mistake might cost them their life, and, as for escape, that seemed utterly out of the question. - As servants of the robber band the boys were Their duties were various, and consisted of labor of all kinds, from taking care of the horses of the : men to cooking andserving their meals. It was drudgery of the worst kind, and to make matters worse they were in constant fear of ' I being murdered. - It was several days before the young captives understood the character and full purpose of the rubber band. Little by little they learned ‘all about them, and the better they knew them . the more thoroughly the despised them. The robbers numbers in all thirty men, all hard crises, ready to murder and rob at a mo- ment's notice. Perhaps the best man of the lot in the sense i» Cot humanity and justice was the leader of the band, whose'name was Humphrey Gray, better "known as Black Humphrey, because of his swarthy complexion. .. ,Black Humphrey was a sharp, shrewd man, 119”, vindictive, and when thoroughly aroused, aperfect devil. He had been an outlaw many years, and would probably remain an outlaw He never remained long in a place but preferred to make frequent changes, and so become better acquainefi with the whole country in the double sense of robbery and murder. He had been in his present abode ' about two years, within which time he and his band had done an extensive business in captur- in Overland trains and coaches bound for ' ,0 ifornia. Disguised as Indians they were wont to sudden y attack a. train of emigrants, f; murder men, women and children, and transfer ,, ‘ v , V the on r 80 Etured pro rty to their mountain home. 1: 9 name 0 Black Humphrey got to be a atcd a trip across the plains, and to fall into his bands was generally looked upon as certain death. Your: before. Black Humphrey had secured a partner for life, an Indian woman, whom he called his wife. He had a certain amount of affection for her, strange to say, which she re~ turned with double interest. Her name was Hester, a name her husband had given her, and by which she was known to the robber band. She had no friends or relatives of her own. race, the tribe to which she properly belonged, being almost extinct. To the robber chief and this woman a child' had been born some eight years before—m girl, who was even now an inmate of the cave. Her name was Inez. She was a sharp, active, restless little girl;. and a perfect picture of beauty and health. Her face was dark, her eyes jet-black, lar e and. expressive, and her nose and mouth shape y and. in perfect keeping with the rest of her fact-2.. One thing, she did not seem to realize what sort; of company she was in. and for that matter, her whole life had been passed with just such as: they, and in the mountains, consequently she) , r was not aware of a. different sort of existence; Frank and Henry regarded the little girl curiously; what her future would be, and what could have been her past, and if there was not some mistake about her being the child of the robber chief and his dusky wi e. “She’s a bright little thing, a w,” said Henry. “and ought not to be in such a ace as this. She seems to want to make friends with us. I guess I’ll cultivate her acquaintance.” There was a double meaning in the words of the boyma very significant meaning, as will be seen further on. r CHAPTER IX. SERVING MANY msrans. THE boys found their new home not a very- pleasant one. There were too many masters to serve, and: then they were in constant fear of their lives. d Any moment they might be shot down like) ogs. ' “ We had better stayed where we were—at‘~ the old miner’s cabin,’ remarked Henry, the. day following their-capture. “I know the end! will be that both of us will be murdered.” , “ But escape, Henry—isn’t there some way t‘c“ esca e?” “ don’t know of any,” re lied the. boy “ You see, it isn’t safe to even ta k about it now. Perhaps the best thing for us to do is to try to win the confidence of our captors, then we may be granted greater freedom, and so manage after a while to escape. But about Chung F0, the Chinuman; he is here somewhere; or at least he was taken prisoner, like ourselves.” “ Maybe they murdered him,” suggested Frank. “Like as not,” returned Henry; “ made a mistake of some kind perhaps—a very slight one no doubt—and because of which got the top of his head blown elf by one of the robbers. Oh, they are a frolicsome set, these outlaws." ' Late that night the boys discovered their mis. take about the Chinaman. He had been away all day in company with. ' The Border fiefier’s. I t 17 several of the outlaws, on a hunting expedition, and returning thatnight, was at once taken into the‘ resenceof the \white captives. *“ 0 you 1know :these young fellers?" asked the robber nchief, with a motion of his head toward the-captive boys. The China’man inned. “ Me know iem, ’ he said. “Well, do you know anything good about ’emi” continued the chief. “Berry much good tellers,” said the China- man, still grinning. “Me likes hab ’em here bell muchee.” “ es, I don’t doubt it,” growled Black Hum~ hrs ; “first-class company is always desirable, ut can’t say how long I’ll let you associate together. It’s not very safe to harbor an enemy or place confidence in strangers. So watch out how you carry yourselves.” Our young friends were very much dis- ,- heartened over the turn aflairshad taken. They ~ were badly perplexed and troubled. A week passed. There was no change in the - situation. The whole outlaw band remained .quietly at home. The boys were treated with ; a fair degree of kindness by all. The little girl .Inez, for some reason or other, began to show great friendship for Henry. “ You are working it mighty fine,” whispered 'Frank one day to his companion—“ stealing the affections of the robber chieftain’s daughter!” Henry laughed. “That sounds very high and lofty, Frank,” ‘he said; “say it a ain. The difference between 'us is this, while am looking after the little girl, you are lookin after the old woman.” As a matter of act, the latter did show a {friendly spirit toward Frank. As a result of this double attachment the boys received better treatment than at first, :and were given greater liberty. So the days passed. Finally there was an Indian scare, which created a commotion :among the robbers. Several of the band, while within less than a score of miles of the cave, were attacked by Indians; two of their number were killed, and the rest nut to flight. This created general consternation among the outlaws. The two gimdkilled had been prominent members of the an . “ Curse the internal red devils,” said the rob- ber chief; “the two men killed were worth all the Indians in creation.” Investigation developed the fact that the hos- tile Indians had been hanging around the neigh- borhood of the cave for several days. -At the_ head of .a dozen mounted men the robber chief started in pursuit of the sava es, swearing vengeance upon their heads shoul he OVfirtake lthem. eanw ile the boys remained at home doin the drudgery of the miserable place, always and ever at the heck and call of any of the outlaws- th8y were held in abject slavery. - ' Vccasionally they would be allowed to go out- side the cave and stroll around among the rocks, I[Luis never beyond hailing distance of any of the en. r Once Henry and Inez strolled out together, and seated themselves on a rock not a great dis- tance from the mouth of the cave. Henry was busy carving something out of wood for the little girl, who, all the while, kept up a continual clatter with her young tongue. Meanwhile two stealthy figures were creeping toward them, moving low on the ground. “This is a charm to hang about your neck,” said Henry to the little girl, as he completed his Work. “ It’s mighty pretty, don’t you think 50?” Before she could reply, before she could say a Word or even cry out, a hand was placed over her mouth and she was lifted by strong arms and carried away. ' Henry was served in like manner, with the one exception that he was dragged instead of carried. It was all done in an instant, and so forcibly that neither Henry nor Inez had anything like a correct idea of the situation until, a few min— utes later, they found themselves in helpless ca tivity among the Indians. he two stealthy savages had done their work well. While the rest of the band, which num- bered in all about a dozen warriors, had re- mained in concealment a few steps away, the two prowlers had seized their victims and quick- ly dragged and carried them into the presence of: their waiting comrades. There was no out-‘ cry from either the girl or the boy. On pain of instant death, Henry was kept from crying out, while, as for Inez, the sudden fright had ten. dered her unconscious. V , Having accomglished their purpose, the sav- age band starte immediately With, their cap- tives for other quarters, losing no time in their flight. All were well mounted, hence they went rapidly, and, traveling as they did all night, the . next morning found them a long distance away from the robbers’ den. The iatter place was in great commotion when it became known that Inez and the captive boy Henry had disappeared. Search was made for them at once, not only throughout the various recesses of the cave, but: among the adjacent rocks and hills, and the name of the young girl was shouted from a. dozen throats, as the robber band searched in vain for the missin girl and boy. Meanwhile the ndian mother wrung her hands and sobbed and moaned piteously. Her grief was terrible; she could not be comforted. At midnight the robber chief returned, and all unconscious of what had happened in his ab sence, began to recount the incidents of his trip. He was interrupted by his Indian wife, who - told him briefly what had happened. V “ You are deceiving me,” he cried. “ It can- not be that Inez has disappeared: she is some- where, in the cave. Come, bring her forth at once. Further explanation was made, and the rob— ber chief. was soon in possession of all the cirm cumstances relating to the disappearance of Ines and the ca tive boy. ~ “Where is t 6 other captive?”he asked, at. length, “ the companion of this boy who has dis‘ ap earedl Bring him into my presence at once." , ' Erank was hurried into the presence of the, -, 1 robber chief. - ‘ 18 The Border Revere. “ What do you know about this business?” the latter asked. ~ “ Nothing—absolutely nothing,” replied the y. “You lie, you young devil—you licl” roared Black Humghrcy. “Tell me what has become of my dang ter before I murder you. Where is shel’ “I know nothing—absolutely nothing,” still persisted the boy. ‘; l’J’ld you not see them together—the boy and 'r ? g1 “Yes, but I do not know where they went. Please do not blame me for their disappearance; I would gladly bring thorn back if I could.” The robber chief was silent a moment, then he said: “ I am afraid it is the work of the red-skins' the devils have been here in my absence and have stolen my dau liter. How I hate the treacherous scoundre 5! Now let me think of snmn wav to punish them. They shall suffer for this, the brutes, depend upon it. Heaven’s curses be upon them 1” There was no sleep for any of the outlaw band that night. Early in the morning they were scouring the adjoining country in search of a clew which mi his lead to the discovery of the missing ones. inally Black Humphrey himself came upon what he considered good evidence of a recent visit of a band of savages. Footprints in the sand, not ordinar boot- tracks, but moccasin-tracks, with a trai which led into the mountains—a trail which was cer- tainly that of a band of savages. “There is no longer any doubt that Inez has been carried away by the redskins,” said the robber chief. “Let us start in pursuit at once.” . It was decided that tho pursuing party should consist of twenty picked men, including Frank, who begged hard to go. The situation of the boy was peculiar. It would not be difficult for him to escape now, but the desire of escape was swallowed up in the greater desire to save Henry from the red— skins. This the robber chief understood, and it was because of ,this that he gave the boy permission to acgom ny them. No .on y did he grant him this privilege, but more: he gave him a horse to ride and armed him with a. rifle, knife and pistol. Fully prepared for any emergency, the pur- suing party started off, the robber chief leading the way. « Behind them were mother, Wife, home and friends, before them was a. terrible uncertainty. CHAPTER X. AMONG THE mourns. NOT more than a. hundred miles from the home of the outlaws was an Indian village, where lived a small band of the then powerful and bloodthirsty Cheyennes. The village was situated in a mountain can- yon, aud in the midst of a Wilderness of trees, rocks and hills. Living in this isolated place, the savages, to the number of about fifty warriors. were wont to carry on a foraging business similar to that of the outlaw band, with the one difference that they never were known under any circumstances to show mercy to an enemy. Their first desire was to murder, then followed plunder and pil- lage as secondary considerations. t was into the hunds of these cutthroats that Henry and Inez had fallen; but, strange to re- late, instead of killing them at once, the red butchers conveyed them to their home among the rocks and hills, there to do with them as they saw fit. The chief of the savage band was known to the whites as Little Horse. He was a. cowardly brute of a fellow, vindictive, designing, cruel and bloodthirsty. Between the robber chief and this savage had long existed an intense hatred, and it was because of this that thelatter, watching his opportunity, had stolen away the robber’s only child. Having reached home with the captives, Lit- tle Horse commanded that they be keptlin close confinement. So they were taken to a mud house, which occupied an open space in the center of the village, and there left, with their hands and feet securely bound, and the door of the place locked tightly. “ I have been waiting a long while for this,” said the chief of the band in his native tongue. “Now what will the white robber say? He /will tear his hair and moan and wail, then he will weep bitter tears. And his agony shall be greater still, The bloody scalp 0! the little girl shall be thrown in his face, and her blood shall be scattered over his garments. The cap- tive boy also shall die, not b the tomahawk, but by slow starvation, and his body shall be burned to ashes. There is no mercy in the heart of;Little Horse.” There was much of the Indian spirit about the little girl Inez. No tears fellfrom her eyes, no word of complaint escaped her lips; she seemed indifferent as to her fate, yet she ap- peared to understand more fully than even Henry himself how dreadful was the situation. “ I do not know what they intend to do with us,” said the captive boy; “ perha s not any thing more than to kee us here as s aves. You are a mighty brave ittle girl, Inez, or you would be crying your eyes out.” . I Inez was silent. “I wish I .were half as brave,” went on Henry, “ but it don’t appear to be a part of my nature. There is nothing like not showing the white feather. There is no denying the fee that we are in a very bad fix, but it we kerb u spirits and don't get discouraged, more then 1i 91y everything will come out all right)? There was a rattle at the door at this mo ment, and presentl an Indian woman, a dread fully wrinkled old ag, came into the room and offered Inez some food. The little girl could not partake‘ot it because lher hands were tied behind her, but the bag remedied this, and the child began to eat. “Boy captive ddn’t get any," growled the old vixen; “he good—for—nothinr , he starve. Make fat little uaw, then kill. ow like?” ' “I don’t like it much,” replied Henry, “I’d rather be murdered at once than to slowly _ ‘r’vfi-flh- m... 4.-.)..Jfiekf . A ~wa i ‘H-bs - i i file Border Rovers. ‘ 19 starve to death. Why, the most unpleasant sensation of the human body is hunger; didn’t yo" know that, old woman!” The squnw did not reply. Presently she left the room. During the greater part of that day there was a constant stream of swartliy visitors to the rude jail of the village, all curious to see the prisoners. Finally the chief, Little Horse, gave order; that the jail door should be closed and no more sight seeing be allowed. Then he placed a double guard'around the jail, with instructions not to permit any inter- ference with the captives by any one or irom any quarter. . . _ “ To morrow the pale—face girl shall die,” he explained to his warriors; “until then let her not be disturbed.” ' It was no doubt the purpose of the Indian chief to make the death of the girl captive as tragic as possible, and to surround the event with horrors unspeakable. The jail was very dark inside, so dark that the prisoners could scarcely see each other’s faces. Both were still securely bound, the only difference in this being that Henry was bound hand and foot, while the little girl’s hands were free. Thi; fact was not known to the chief, and was in truth a mistake of the Indian W0- man who had brought the captive girl some food a. few hours previous. Having freed her hands so that she could partake oi‘ the food she had neglected to replace the cords with which they had been bound, and this had not been dis- covered by the chief or any of his band. “ Are you sufl‘erim: any pain!” asked Henry of the little girl, late that afternoon. “ Not very much,” she replied. “ Do you know what they are going to do with us?" “ No; do you?” ‘6 Yes.” “ What?” ’ “They are going to starve you to death. Yes, sir, that’s a fact.” “How very nice," said Henry sarcastically. “They won’t have long to wait in my case: I’m mighty near dead by starvation now. What are they going to do with you?” “I don’t know,” slowly said the girl; “they wouldn’t dare‘ starve me to death, for my father is the robber chief, Black Humphrcy, and who is there that is not afraid of him? 0h, n0' there is no fear of them killing me.” fiem'y was silent. Thelittle girl was evident;— ly unconscious of her peril; and he did not care to undeceive her. 1!; Were hotter, perhaps. he thought, that she did not know of the horrible into which he believed was in storefor her. “So you think the red-skins Wlll soon take you home?” he finally said. . “ I guess they will,” she replied; “ or else my father will come after me. I wish he would hurry along. How my feet achel The ugly brutes had no need of tying them so light.” “And are your hands not also tied!” asked Hour . _ “ Nye—not now,” replied the girl. “ Then why not help me?” asked the boy. M How?” “Untie my hands; you can do it—I know you can. Como, Inez, come!” He rolled over so that she could reach him without difficulty. and at once she began to work at tho cords with which his hands were bound. It was a difficult task she had under- taken. but she accomplished it at last, and said joyfully: “ I knew I could do it, but I’ll tell you what, it wasamightyrhard job. I wouldn’t like to try it again. ow that your hands are free, what are you going to do?” “ “rail; and You shall see,” he replied quickly. “I’m going to get out of this, if I can.” “ Not run away i” - “ch." “ And won’t you take me with you ll” . “Yes—yes; only keep awful quiet and do gust: fl’a.s I tell you. First let me liberate my ee . He was not long in removing the cords from his feet. Then he performed the same work for the feet of his companion. “ So much, so good,” he said. next move.” He was without a weapon of any kind, and he knew full well that the jiil was being closely guarded by two or more stalwart savages. l‘herefore, did it seem probable that he could in any way effect an escape? . The more he thought of it the more convinced he was that escape was impossible. “7ch not the jail so closely guarded there might be some chance of escape, he thought, but with a stalwart sentinel at every turn, and ever red- skin in the village alert and watchfu , the‘ young captives were certainly in a state of utter helplessness. . " We are absolutely without hope,” at length said the boy; “ escape by our eii’orts is out of the question. The situation is indeed terrible.” The day passed. That night additional guards were placed around the jail. A: mid- night the village, with its fifty warriors, was in comparative repose. Only the jail guards, and a sentinel on either side of the Vlllage, were awake and moving about. Even the your) captives had fallen asleep. The barking 0% dogs alone broke the silence. .It was at this time that Black Humphrey and his men came in sight of the sleeping village. They approached it quietly. “ Give no quarter,” was the command of the . robber chief. A few yards nearer the village and the In-. dian sentinels would see them and give the alarm. ” ' Black Humphrey commanded a. halt. Not daring to speak aloud, he gave his orders in whispered tones. “Spare not a single life; let not a red-skin escape. No matter how you kill, but killl No quarter. Blood for blood. Serve all alike, men, women and children: murder them in cold blood. Are you ready? Then, come on." Boldly they dashed into the village, but be- fore they could reach the wigwams of the savages, the latter were ready to receive them, - having been aroused by the firing of the sentir “Now for the U ’ ’ madea movement as if to trike Inez in his arms. ’ but near him, within his immediate circle, there 20 The Border Rovfi. nels, who were first to feel the terrible and dead] onslaught of the robber bond. An now begun a hand-to-hand conflict the like of which none on either side had ever known before. It was a l'ifo-and-death strug- gle, the very comvmnl-ition of which, with its brains and blood, its mutilation of Corpses, its cries of agony and groans of anguish, its horrors in general, is sickening. Meanwhile the young captives remained in‘ jail. Both had fallen asleep shortly before midnight, but, at the first sh t of battle, they sprung up and hreathlessly istened to what seemed to them a perfect pandemonium of sounds. It did not take Henry long to comprehend the nature of the conflict. “The friends of Iiicz are here,” he said, simply. “In my opinion it is a case of dog cat dog. but for the time being my sympathies are with the, outlaws.” For a while a fierce fight was kept up in the vicinity of the jail, but there were times when the conflict raged hottest in other places, and it was during,r one of these periods that Henry re- solvrd to make a daring ril‘ort to escape, let the results be what they might. So he made a. vigorous effort to break down the door, and, after repeated trials, Succeeded; the door gave way with a. crush, and the brave boy captive, holding.r Inez firmly by the hand, escaped into the darkness, and by moving quiet- ly and stealthin ovpr the ground reached the outskirts of the village unobserved. “ Thank Heaven for this!" exclaimed Henry, fervently; “we are once more free, and now, sooner then be taken captive again, I will die in my tracks.” Hardly had he said this when a strange figure sprung out from behind a rock and cool fronted them. It was the mysterious horseman! “Back, back!" cried Henry, as the stranger “ What are you doing here?” There was no reply, but raising a stout stick which he carried in his hand, the strange in- truder struck Henry a blow over the head that fielled him to the ground; then, taking the girl .22] his arms, he rushed- away to where his horse was standing, mounted the restless animal in u twinkling and galloper away like the wind. ' The blow from the heavy stick of the stran- ger had rendered Henry unconscious, but this lasted only a moment; his senses returned pres— ently, and, regaining his feet, he looked wild! around him. He could see thelights in the vi - loge. where the battle still raged; could bear a terrible din which was like pandemouium itself; could see figures of men and horses moving quickly about in the light of burning wigwamn, was no one to be seen. He was entirely alone; and nearlya mile away, going like the wind. was the brave little girl, Inez, in the clutches of that strange prairie ranger, the mysterious horseman. —— CHAPTER XI. AN EVENTrUL STRUGGLE. HENRY Was not one of the lilml to despair, no me tier how trying the circumsianc'es. He had never known what it was to be tho- roughly beaten. Now that he was no longer in the hands of either the Indiana or the outlaws, and even though his situation was still perilous, he had heart to believe that he could not only take care of himself but help Frank as well, if the latter were still living. “ If I only knew where to find him,” he said. “I don’t even know that he is alive, and if alive, how shall I he-ahle to communicate with him? Suppose the outlaws are victorious in this fight, what good would that do me? If in their company, as Frank probably is, I would still he a captive. No, 1 must not again let them take me. for, as between the robbers and the Indians there is little choice. I scarcely know what to do." He loode in the direction of the Indian vil- lage. There was still occasional firing, but practically the battle was at an end. Henry was not sure which party had come out victo- rious, but the indications Were that the outlaw band had been put to flight. He thought it might be well to investigate this point at once, so he crept up to within a. few yards of the nearest Wigwam and quietly leokeil over the gory battle field. ‘ Then he knew that the outlaws had fled, and also that the dusky enemy—how great the force he'could not tell—was in pursuit. Nearly every Wigwam in the village was on fire, and around these blazing fires were women and children, some wild with terror, others :vrief stricken and almost paralyzed through fear, and all weeping and wailing and tearing their hair, the whole a picture of awful despair. There were evidently many dead, dying and wounded scattered over the field, but these Henry could not See, and his good Sense told him that it would not be safe for him to investi- gate closer. So, after satisfying his curiosity, and learning all he could of the battle and its results, he re- treated as rapidly as his feet would carry him to a safe distance from the village, where he halted and began to consider what he should do next. It was now within an hour of daylight, but (lurker, perhaps, than at any time during the night. Now would be the time for the boy to hasten away from the scene of blood. It would be dangerous for him to remain in the vicinity of the village after daylight, par- ticularly as he had neither rifle. pistol or other weapon with which to defend himself in case of trouble. This was really the worst feature of the whole business. But where was the remedy! An idea struck him. \Vliy could he not return to the battlefield and secure a weapon from some of the dead, either whites or red-skins?” He thought it over rapidly, and came to a conclusion at once. v“, 1 . i I ! x . l l m a. w The Border Rovers. 21 He would return to the field of carnage with- out delay. At once he started, walking rapidly, but quietly. He could not tell exactly where to go, but thought the battle had raged fiercest near the jail, or hut, in which Inez and himself had been confined, so he bent his steps in that direction. The Indian women and children were still lamenting the less of their kindred. There were only a. few old and crippled warriors present. The wounded were being cared for at a Wigwam some distance from the jail. Quietly Henry moved over the ground. He was now within a stone’s throw of the as- sembled crowd of moaning, howling, wailing savages. He began to feel that he was placing himself in a perilous situation. He crouched low on the ground and moved on, sharply eying every dark object near at hand. “ The red-skins have taken care of their dead, I guess,” he finally muttered, “and as for the outlaws—«well. I don’t know that any of them were killed. Their bodies are not visible, an y- how.” He concluded not to continue the search further but to retrace his steps as soon as pos« sible, and was on the point of doing this when his eye caught sight of a human figure stretched out upon the ground. He approached it quickly, and, bending over it, saw t at it was the lifeless form of a white man, undoubtedly one of the outlaws. The man had been tomahawked and scalped, but had not been relieved of his \VL’ZIII()ll>, which were beside him on the ground and in his belt. The boy was not long in securing the (loud rob- ber’s arms, also a quantity of ammunition, after whicdhe beat a swift but noiseless retreat. “ I feel better now,“ he muttered, as he reached a safe distance away from the bowling. savage mob: “not that I am afraid of that dusky crowd," he continued, meaning;r the red— skins, “ butl feel better and safer now that I am well armed. The devil take the country and all its inhabitants anyhow.” He shouldered his rifle and started off in the direction of what seemed to him a massive ledge of rocks a short distance away. Meanwhile abloody scene was being enacted some five miles" distance from the lndian vil- in e. gl‘he battle of the night had resulted almost disastrously to tho Ouillei hand, more than halt their number having been killed. The red-' skins had also lost hmvily. The end was that the former were defeated, and were forced to seek safety in flight. Then ensued u running-fight, which lasted until near morning. “lIL-n the vanquished out- laws came to a stand on the banks of a running stream, and in the center of a collection of huge bowlders, which seemed to have been pur- posely laced there for iheirproteci ion. The owlders stood close together and so formed a rude fortress, which, it well defenle by the robbers, could not be taken by double :3 number of savages which threatened to as- ‘ it. The original number of the outlaw band, when it started out to attack the village of Little Horse, was twenty, including the robber Chief and the captive boy Frank. It now num- bered.six persons, all told, the chief and Frank included, although the former was not in good fighting trim, having receiVed a bad scalp wound, while engaged in a. hand to-hand con- flict with the Indian chief, Little Horse. The latter had finally been overpowered and killed. As for Frank, he had managed somehow to escape injury, although he had mingled in the fight as freely as any of them, and had done his share of the work of battle. “ It is not for the robbers that I risk my life.” he said to himself, “ but for Henry, who, it the savages are not beaten, will no doubt be mur- dered in cold blood. How terrible is the thoughtl” When the outlaws were compelled to run, Frank went‘with them, and now we find him a. central figure of the remnant of the robber band, which, defeated and almost overpowered by the red—skins, has taken refuge in a rude fortress of rocks halt a score of miles away from the first battle-ground. “Here shall the fight end,” said the robber chief; “it is life or death with us now. Let. every man sell his life as dearly as possible." There were in all about thirty savages 0p» posed to the handful of whites among the- rocks. The red-skins seemed to feel their superior strength, and were therefore very bold in their- denmnstrations. Still they appeared to realize the fact that it‘ would not be perfectly safe to get within range of the rifles of the concealed enemy, although several did thus venture and came near losing. their lives thereby. It was daylight when the robber band entered the rocky fortress, and now every movement of the savages could be distinctly seen. “What are they waiting for? Why don’t they attack us?” questioned Frank, whose knowledge of Indian warfare was extremely limited. I “If you’d talk less and shoot more it would be better for ou,” replied ‘the robber chief savagely. “I on’t see why you couldn’t have been killed last night in place of any one of my own brave men. Curse the luck!” At this moment, a red skin, more daring than the rest, gave a loud whoo and circled up to Within a hundred yards 0 the rocks behind which the whites were concealed. . _Iustantly Frank, who had just sighted his rifle that way, took quick aim at the daring rider andfired. The redskin quickly threw up his hands, reeled a moment in his saddle, then fell heavily to the ground. “Not dead, but badly wounded,” muttered the robber chief, as, after the lapse of several seconds, he observed the fallen savage half rise to his feet and bobble awa . " A pretty good shot, though," remarked an- . other of the outlaws. “The ofteuer he does that the better, in my opinion.” Black Humphrey grunted. “Better that than not at all.” he said. “I _ The Border Revere. wish every one of the red devils could be served in like manner. Just listen to the bloody fiends howl!” The wounding of one of their number served to eurage the savage crowd beyond measure, and for a few minutes it seemed as though an- other desperate battle was imminent. But the demonstrations, so far as made, were harmless, and the sudden wrath of the savages Soon subsided. Then Frank, turning to the robber chief, broached the subject which was uppermost in his mind. “ What have become of the two captives, Henry and Inez?” he said. Black Humphrey’s dark face looked grave and sad. “ I do not know,” he replied; “both may be dead, or both living—I do not know. There is little value to a life that is at the mercy of tho red—skins.” Neither Frank or the robber chief knew that at that moment Henry was his own master, and that Inez was a captive in the hands of a creature worse than even the red—skins them— themselves. CHAPTER Xil. A FIENDISH PROPOSITION. THERE wusa belief amongr the robbers that the red—skins'wonid not attack them that day, because so many of them had already been killed, and an open attack in the daytime would certainly result in the death of several more of the dusky band. i “ Perhaps they intend to starve us out,” sug- gested one of the robbers. “Ithink not,” replied the robber chief; “as soon as it becomes dark they’ll not be so afraid to show themselves. The red beggars have had enough of open warfare, and now they propose ' to do their work on the sneak order.” “ It’s might bad medicine, I say,” was the observation 0 a bearded outlaw to whom the chiei‘ had addressed his remark. “ So say I,” returned the latter. “ But What are we going to doabout it?” “ Can t we bring on a fight someway?" “ How?” “Make A sudden break of. some kind. It don’t matter how it is done, so that we get up a fight. V One thing is certain, we’ll stand a small show for our lives after dark. The cunning brutes know that. the darkness is their best friend in a fight like this. escape.” “ Agreed; but how shall we go at it? The red devils have as completely surrounded. Look in any direction and you will see a lot of Let’s make a movement as if to L ' ’em watching us like hawks.” It was even so. The red-skins had dismounted from their horses, and had scattered themselves out in little knots, forming a complete circle "around the intrenchment of the outlaws; and here they lounged, not seeming to care what the whites were about. but still keeping a close watch of them to see that they did not attempt to get away. On three sides of the collection of rocks among which the robbers wore concealed, was a 18W prairie, not grass-grown, but sandy, and on the other side was a swut—runnlng stream or perhaps fifty yards in width, without bushes or trees on either bunk. ' The red~skins had thought at first not to cross this stream to guard the movements of the out- laws from that side, but later in the day several wf them crossed 0W1" and stationed themsolves where they could view the rocky retreat of the robbers distinctly. it was because of these careful preparations an the part of the savages that the outlaws be- "I‘m" satisfied that no attack would be made that day; so it was that a majority of th!‘ hand thought it best to provoke a light at Once. It was decided to make a movement as if to cross the stream, and so get up a commotion among the red-skins on both sides, and during the excitement thus created, pick as many of them oif as possible, the idea. being to l’OVOkO ageneral fight, and so decide the con ict, one way or the other, before dark. So one of the outlaws, gun in hand, began to move slowly toward the stream. At once the savages caught sight of him, and a spirit of hostility was manifested imme- diuteiy. ' The outlaw halted a moment and ‘lay flat up- on the ground. , The red‘skins began to shout and yell demo- nizu-uily. “ Now watch ’em," snid the robber chief, “and don’t missa shot for the world. Come, another of you get out where the brutes can see ye.” Another of the robber baud began to move in the direction taken by his companion, as a result of which the red-skins became still more. furious. Presently they began to use their rifles, but the range was so great that each and every shot fell wide of its mark. Still another of the outlaws began to move in the direction of the stream. This had the desired eflcct. The savages, fearing a general exit of the robbers, with screams and shouts and fierce battle-cries dashed down upon them, using their rifles at close range, and closing in upon the robber band from every quarter. The tight was a terrible and blood one. It was of short duration, as all hand-to-h’and con- flicts must be. but the time was long enough to enable both sides to spill the blood of several oi the combatants. The red-skins were finally obliged to with- draw, having sustained a loss 01’ five killed and two wounded. The loss to the robber band was one man killed. “Not a bad exchange, anyhow,” remarked the robber chief, compiacently viewing the body of his dead follower. “Now I look for a. compromise of some kind from the savages.” _ The outlaw chief believed that the red-skins, now that more than half their number were dead. would cease their hostilities and return to their village, where they had left unprotected their women and children. But the red-skins were seemingly not so dis« posed. They still kept up a careful guard of the out .‘\ j 1 ms. :1 .. . 1mg!“ ' chief said aloud: _ life to us? Nothing—absolutely nothing. The The Border Rovers. :3 laws, apparently ready at a moment’s notice to renew the fight. Black Humphrey was at a loss to know what to think of the unnatural obstinacy of the enemy. ‘ “ They are like so many wild beasts,”he said, at length; “ bloodthirsty, cruel 'and treacher- ous. wonder what next they intend to do.” “ The night will tell,” answered one of the robbers. “Very likely every one of us will be dead before morning." . “Can’t help it if we are,” growled the chief. “Suppose we get up another big fight at once. We may as well die now as any other time.” The reposition was not an agreeable one to a majority of tho outlaws and so was voted down. “ I have a scheme,” at length said one of the men to the robber chief, “a scheme that I think will work.” “ What is it!” He whispered something to the outlaw chief which none of the rest could hear, and thou the two men cast suspicious glances at Frank, show- 3 ing thereby that their whispered conversation had been of him. There was more talk between these two men, carried on in a low tone, and then the outlaw “Perhaps the young fellow will not agree to it; he isn’t a darn fool, by a longr shot.” “Hush, hushl” said the other man; “ don’t speak so loud. I’ll look after the hid it you’ll See that the Indians are flgi'ccnlde to the propo« sition. What do you think of it yourself?” “ A fine scheme, if it \1illwmk."ri-piicd Black ; Humphrey. “But we may as Wcli tell the rest ‘ of the boys.” i “ Just as you think best,” observed the out- ‘ laW. “ Say, fellows!” ‘ There was general attention at once. Frank, in particular, seemed interested in ‘ what was going on. , The boy was becoming very suspicious of the ‘ outlaws. “ Stay where you are, kid I” growled the chief, as Frank made a movement as if to join the rest in consultation. “ You will know enough about this business after a while." Frank crouched low upon the ground, keep- i ing his eyes in the direction of the main body of l the savages, but at the same time listening 1 closely to the half-whispered conversation of the l outlaws. " The scheme is this," remarked the robber chief quietly; “ the red-skins will notbe satis- fied until they have taken one of us uliVe—they are bound to take :1 prisoner, so that they may torture him by fire and in ot-hcr ways. Now, is there a man among you who will consent to make a. sacrifice of himself in that way?” There was a chorus of negatives, following which the robber chief continued: “The bargain must be made soon; somebody must go. 'Whom shall it be?” All eyes were turned on Frank in an in- stant. r “You are right,” said the chief; “better use cannot be made of this young sczilnwag than to turn him over to the red skins. What is his only question is, Will the savages give us any- thing for him—will they be satisfied, and no longer trouble us? What say you, men, what say you?” _ t was the general opinion that a compromise of this kind could be made with the red-skins, and it was therefore decided to make the effort at once, and if an agreement could be reached, the boy should be turned over to the savages immediately. Frank listonod quietly to all that was said, and his feelings can better be imagined than described. For a moment he felt like turning his rifle on his worse than fiendish companions and making one of than bite the dust, at least, even it he himself should die for it the next moment. “ So I am to be the victim, am 1?" he said, as the consultation came to an end. “What a lot of human devils you are!" There was no reply from any of the outlaws. They knew that the boy spoke the truth. One of the robbers, who could speak ihe In- dian tongue, thrust his head up above ihe rocks and shouted to the savages at the top of his voice. They heard him, but could not understand his words; so one of them approached a little nearer the rocks, and a conversation was car- ried on between the two with apparent ease. Finally the red-skin rejoined his comrades, while the outlaw, who had been doing the talk— ing for the robber crovrd, gave in substance the conversation that had passed between them. “Then the proposition suits them, does it!" questioned Black Humphrey. “Yes, :0 it seems,” was the rclply. “And they will agree to to e the prisoner and leave us for good—is that the understand- ing?‘ “ Exactly.” It is one thing to make a contract, and anoth- ' e'r thing to carry it out. And this the robbers discovered when they undertook to deliver Frank to the Indians. The boy positively refused to go unassisted, and as none of the outlaws cared to accompany bilml, negotiations were at a stand-still for some w n e. Finally it was a eed between the outlaws on the one side, and t is red—skins on the other, that two of each contending force should go halt- way, and thus consummate the bargain without fear of treachery from either side. ‘ So, all arrangements having been made, the boy, despite his struggles, was givsn into the clutches of the robber gang, who, having first relieved him of his weapons and pounded him over the head so that he was nearly unconscious. started with him in the direction of themai body of the savages. ' And two of the latter at once started out to meet them. Again Frank struggled desperately, and again he was brutally beaten over the head. “ Heaven save mel" he cried. “Save ins-l save me E” i “ The red-skins screamed and shouted: the outlaws cursed and swore; there was a fever of , excitement all around. Presently there was a suspicious movement ' r bloody head, the rascals. 84 The Border Rovers. among the savages, as if they could not control themselves and were about to break their con- tract by precipitating a fight with the outlaws. The latter, dctccting the movement,demanded in fierce tones that the chief of the red~skins should control his braves. But the, latter were now perfectly furious with excitement. Suddenly, with fierce yells and savage exdlnma‘tions, they rushed on to the attack, shooting down the two robber guards and sending a. volley of rifle—shots among the rocks. At the first flre the two outlaws in company with Frank fell, and the latter also dropped to the ground. CHAPTER XIII. BETRIBUTIVE JUSTICE. So sudden and unexpected was the attack. that the whites were absolutely unable to defend themselves. For once in his life Black Humphrey lost con- trol of himself; he did not know what to do; he was like a man who had lost his reason. One of the outlaws among the rocks was killed at the first fire, so only the robber chief and one other were left. The first and only thing that either of them thought of was‘ilight. With a yell of defiance they started off, a whooping, shouting, screaming pack of savages close in pursuit. ’ There was not a red-skin among them all who would ‘not have given his life rather than have the robber chief escape death or capture; so the pursuit was carried on with a. vigor and earnestness which indicated a bloody ending. Soon the field was cleared of living combat- ants. either white or red. Then it was that the unfortunate, and ' still lucky boy, Frank, began to show signs oflife, to such an extent, in fact, that he rose to a sitting posture and looked around him. His face was covered with blood, and his ' clothes were badly torn; he looked the picture of despair. “I’m not so badlvofl? as some of them,” he muttered, as he surveyed the field before him, and saw the bloody corpses of the two outlaws stretched out upon the round not a dozen feet apart. “I got a terrib e crack over the head, though; in fact, I’m ’bout as near dead as a fol- low can well be and live.” He rose to his feet, still holding his head with his hands.- “I dropped at the first flre,” he went on, “ and I reckon the savages thought they had finished me, too, but they hadn’t, by a. long shot. I played the game pretty fine, and so saved my life. The outlaws gave me this I hope the red~skins will on ture the brutes, and burn ’em alive.” The oy was not badly injured, although he had been dealt with severely by the robbers. Anyway, he was no longer a captive, and, as for his injuries, he would soon recover from them; all he cared for now was to place him- ' self as for distant from the present scene of blood as he could in the absence of the red- skins, some of whom would certainl return! shortly to scalp the enemy, and see t at their: own dead was cared for. “First I must get-a weapon of some kind,”‘ said the boy, hurriedly scanning the bloody battle-ground. But nothing of the kind was visible, not even so much as a knife or hatchet. Failing in this, he thought to appropriate one of the several horses belonging to the savages, but although the animals seemed docile enough, grazing on the prairie a few yards away, they refused to be caught. So the young man, fearing to remain Ian . in that vicinity, concluded to leave at once, w i'cl'n he did, taking the river as his guide, and going in an opposite direction from that taken by the: outlaws and their pursuers. There was very little timber along the stream at that point, but further down there was 8). better showing of trees and vines and under— brush, among which there were many goodl hiding-places where a person might take refuges without great fear of discovery. Rapidly the fugitive boy hurried over thea ground, keeping close to the river-bank, and; every second looking back of him toseeif he: were not being pursued. Finally, to better cover up his tracks, box swam the stream, and continued his flight out the other side. One thing was in his favor now—it was rapidly growing dark' the sun had gone down shortly after he had left the battlefield, and now t‘liae light of day had almost wholly disap- peare . . Still the tired boy continued his rapid night. He was determined to get beyond reach of the red-skins if possible. Once he stopped a moment to bathe his head and face in the cool water of the creek which ran hard b . . His heady was still bloody and sore, and his face was covered with bruises. “Never mind,” he said to himself; “these wounds are very slight; l’ll soon get over them. Anyhow, it’s a mighty sight better than being dead. I wonder what time 0’ night it is.” He looked at the sky. There was no moon. The stars shone feebl y. “It’s not midnight yet,” he said; “but that. makes no difference; ’11 not take an chances: Oil being captured by halting here; ’11 hurry; a ong.’ He went on re idly, up hill and down valley . over stretches o sand plain, through tangled'. vines and thick under rush, among rocks and‘ trees, all the while following the stream which. was leading him he knew not whither. Finally, when tired almost to falling, he halt-- ed near a large, flat rock that jutted out over the sdtream, and seating himself, began to muse- alou . “I’m awful hungry,” he said, “and so- wretchedly tired that I feel like giving up the ghost. Iwonder what has me of Henry. Perhaps he is dead; I rather think so, I don't know why. And the little girl, Inez, where is she? No doubt she too is dead. How terrible the thought! As for her father, the robber chief, there is no doubt that the savazes have taken 0 ‘g'r . 3,. w: e The Border Rovers. 25 his lifelong before this. In fact, there is scarce- ly an outlaw left—near] the whole band has suffered death. There is still another person whose whereabouts I’d like to know—the- mys- terious horseman; he has not hoen seen lately, and has perhaps taken flight for good. Henvensl how tired an sleepy I am. But I don’t dare go to sleep here—no, no; not for the world, not for the world.” He rattled on in this way for some while, re- clining his head upon the rook, so that he could rest himself the better, and, as he lay there talking to himself, there came over him a wear-i- ness so profound that he gradually gave up to it, his eyes closed slowly, and soon he was sound— ly asleep. Meanwhile the night wore on. The boy slept soundly. There were no sounds to disturb him. A strange silence seemnd to have fallen over mountain, wood and stream. Hours passed. Finally light began to break in the east, then it was mornin , with the sun just coming up from behind the ills. Still the boy slept on. Then, for the first time in several hours, the stillness was broken, not by the sound of human voices, but by the dip of oars out in the stream and the cutting of a canoe through the water. Thestranger, whoever he was. seemed uncon— scious of the presence of the sleeping boy. The boat was in the middle of the stream and mov- ing slowly. The boatman was keeping close watch or’either shore. A rifle lay Within easy reach of him in the boat. He rowed along quietly, but when alongside of the jutting rock upon which Frank lay usievp, he dropped the oars suddenly and reaclu'd for his rifle. Then be half rose to his feet, and a savage light came into his eyes. “.A cunnin rascal,” he whispered; “ I have a mind to kil him on the spot; wonder what he is domg here? How my head whirls! Oceans of blood swim before my eyes." The stranger ran his boat aground, then, quietly stepping ashore, stealthin approached the sleeping boy. The latter heard nothing; he was still sleeping soundly. “ He is in my power,”muttered the stranger, “and I might murder him in a second’s time, but I do not care to do it: I have something worse in store for him. Wake up, boy.” Frank heard the savage voice of the stranger, and he was awake in an instant. “ Great Heavens!” he exclaimed the moment his eyes opened and he saw who was bending over him; “ the mysterious horseman l” “ I’ve been looking for you a long while,” 3 oke the fn'ghtful shadow of a man whom rank recognized as the mysterious prairie ranger. “ Where have you been? and tell me, where are you going? I have been looking for you along whi e, I say.” The mysterious stranger was hideous in ap- pearance; looked starved and careworn; black, straggling whiskers; matted hair falling over his face; gleaming, black eyes; attenuated frame; almost fleshless bones, and garments torn so that they were little more than rags. “ So you have been looking for me. have you?" said Frank, with a feeling of dread creeping over him. "‘ Well, this isn’t the filSD time I’Ve seen you. Who are you?” “Who am 1‘4” returned the man; “ what is that to you? Better tell me first who you are. Come, your name.” . ' Frank gave him the desired Information, and again the stranger spoke. " Where have you been?” he asked. “A short distance up the stream,” was the ply. “ With whom?” “ The Indians.” The man glanced along the shore, and handled his riile nervously. “ The Indians?” be repeated. “ lVl‘J W?” “I escaped from them,” said Frank; “they were going to kill me.” The stranger laughed a wild, maniacal, hide- ously unnatural laugh. “ So you are afraid of the red~slzius, are you?" he said; “and I suppose you are not afraid of me?” "Why should I be?” said Frank. “I am mighty sure no harm will ('OlilC to me from you. Come, hnwn’t you a home 5: mun-here near? and n on’t you take me to it, and give me something to eat. I tell you, sir, I’m awful hungry.” The stranger looked pleased. “I’ll let you live a littlo while longer,” be said, “ perhaps a day or two. But l’m going to kill the little girl to-night, and feast upon her flesh.” “The lifth girl?" “ Yes, the little girl. tho rocks. Let’s go to her at once. Come.” Frank saw at once that the man was crazy. But what did he mean when he spoke of the little girl? PHL'P? And then the declaration that lo would kill her that night and feast upon her flush was horrible. Ho determined to learn more of the doings of this strange creature. “1 will go “ith you,” he said, rising tohis feet. “Come, lend the way.” ' The maniac pointed to the boat. and signaled Frank to get in, which 'he did, followed by the madman. The lattr‘r then seizod the ours, and rowed swiftly down the stream. Frank watched him closely, fearing treachery; he also noted the boat, which, he thought, he had seen before. In fact, he was ahnostcertein that the boat belonng to the unknown gold-seeker. at whose cabin Henry and himself had remained a week or two some time previous. ~ The maniac worked the oars rapidly, and the boat fairly danced over the water. ‘ Presently he gave the boat a turn which ran it ashore, then he signaled Frank to get out, which being done, he also sprung out. Then the two walked up a steep hill, and down a ravine, where. at the has.) of a ledge of rocks, was a. hollow place, or excavation, of no small dimensions. re Into this place Frank was almost savagely” pushed by the maniac. And that which first met his gaze was a half: starved little creature, the very picture. of I have her safe among .v \Vas it Inez to whom he bud refer— _ if? 25 The Border Rovers. wretchedness, misery, and fear, bound hand and foot. and lying upon the ground in utter helplessness. It was the little girl Inez. CHAPTER XIV. TAKEN CAPTIVE BY A MANIAC. TEE madman laughed fiendishly as he sur- veyed the almost furnished child. ‘I told you I had her," he said, “and to-night Iam going tokill her; I’ll split her head open with a hatchet. " “Why not let her rest a wliile?——shc will be dead before night, I fear,” said Frank. “ Loosen her from the rock.” v The maniac scowled. “What do you know of my affairs?" he snarled. “ You have not much longer to live than the girl. Get down upon your knees be- fore I shoot you dead.” He leveled his rifle straight at the heart of the boy, and there was a gleam of murder in his a (-5. y“ Down upon your knees, I say!” he repeated. Frank hesitated not a moment; he knew that his life depended on quick obedience to the wishes of the maniac. “ What next!” he asked. quietly. “Nothing, only stay where you are,” replied the madman. “ I’ll get some cords and bind you head and foot, just as l have the girl. But the cords—what did I do with the cords? Don’t dare to move, young man, or I‘ll kill you as I would a dog. 0 ye hear?" Frank had been watching his opportunity all along to seize and overpower the madman. but the latter had been too watchiul for him until now, when, turning his eyes a moment, the boy saw his chance, and with the bound of a panther , sprung upon him. . Then occurred a desperate struggle, in which the two combatants rol ed over on the ground, shrieking and yelling. striking and biting, each trying in every possible way to get the advan‘ to e of the other, even unto death itself. t was not an unequal contest, the boy being quite as powerful as the man, although thelatte! was more agile and alert, and so managed durf ing the struggle to throw his antagonist on hit back, where he held him firmly, despite his struggles to get away. Frank was now thoroughly alarmed. He was confident the madman would not let him live another minute. Evidently the latter contem‘ lated murder, for, seizing a large stone 0 averal pounds in weight, he poised it above his head, intending the next moment to bring it down with deadly force upon the head pt the captive boy, crushing his skull as though it Were an egg-shell. But the uplifted stone did not come down. Some one from behind seized it and wrenched it from the grasp of the maniac, while, at the same time, he was dealt a heavy blow on the head that knocked him senseless to the ground. j Frank sprung to his feet in a moment, and the person who had saved his life grasped him , , warmly by the hand. , It was his rover companion, Henry! The unexpected reunion of the two boys. coming at such a time and place, and undo!l such circumstances, moved both to tears. Each had mourned the other as dead, and now to be reunited waslike a meeting of the living with the dead arisen. It was a period of tears, con- gratulations, joyful surprise and supreme happi- ness. “ S l we meet again, and both alive and well,” said Henry, earnest] . “This is greater happi- ness than I deserve.’ “ You came none too soon,” returned Frank' “a moment later and this crazy rascal would have mashed in my head. See, he is coming to. What shall we do with him?" “ Bind him hand and foot,” declared Henry; “or also kill him.” “ No, not kill him, Henry; you Certainly have grown bloodthirsty Since you’ve been gone,” said Frank. “ This man is crazy: let’s tie him with cords so that he can do no harm." “ But the cords, Frank, the cords," cried Henry: “ where are there any cords?” Frank quickly turned to the captive irl, Inez, and began to loosen the cords with w ich she was bound. Soon he had them off, and the girl was free. Then, with the same cords, he sel'lll‘ely pinioned the hands and feet of the maniac, feeling safer now that this was done. Then both boys turned theirattontion to Inez. She had suffered terribly, and was nearly dead from cxhauston and hunger. She could not stand alone, and was scarcely able to articu- late, so parched and dry was her tongue, having been without water for full two days. “ Let’s leave this horrid den at once,” said Henry; “the girl is sulfering; she must have food and water.” They prepared to go, and were just on the point of leaving when the madman recovered consciousness. _ But he could do nothing more than rave vehe- mently, and his words were idle and senseless. “ It seems cruel to leave him there bound hand and foot.” said Frank; “ but what else can we do? We must look out for our own safety.” “We might relieve him of his weapons and then let him up,” suggested Henry. “ Suppose we do that.” “All right." said Frank' “you mans e that part of the business, and I ll carry Inezr own to the stream.” Frank took the little girl in his arms and car- ried her down to the creek near where the boat of the maniac had been left. It was there still, and the boy took possession of it at once, still holding the little girl in his arms. Presently Henry appeared, and also entered “he boat. “Did you untie the madman?” asked Frank. “Yes,” was the reply; “that is, I fixed him :0 that he can free himself by working a while. .lnd here are his weapons.” ‘ V The latter consisted of a rifle, a long-bladed knife and a sharp-edged hatchet. The main purpose of the boys now was to find some safe place where they might rest an ab- Cnin food, for both were tired and hungry, while the little girl was nearly famished. At once they struck out from the shore, and / “:1. v ; The Border, Rovers. 37 the boat glided swiftly down the stream, Frank working the cars. “Have you any idea. where we are going?” asked Henry, as the boat danced over the wa- ter. . “To some extent I have,” replied Frank. “Do you remember the cabin at which we stopped some days ago—the cabin of an my known miner?” “ Yes, very distinctly.” . . “Well, I don’t know for sure, but I think this stream will bring us there. ,It may be a long distance, though, for all I know. Anyway, this is the stream near which the cabin stood.” The boys had no fear of the madman now; ovenif he should follow them, which he was more than likely to do, he could do them no harm, being without weapons of any kind other than his hands, while the boys were now well armed. Frank pulled at the cars steadily tor more , than an hour, then Henry relieved him for a ‘ while, and the boat continued to glide swiftly down the stream. ' Meanwhile the boys told each other their re spective stories—all that had happened to either of them since they parted company in the rob- ber’s cave, when Inez and Henry were carried ofi? by the braves of Little Horse. Following the bloody battle at the Indian vil- lage, when Henry and Inez made their escape, . and the latter was shortly thereafter taken cap- tive by the mysterious horseman. Henry bad wandered from place to lace, in the mountains and on the prairies, and lint] onlv by accident, attracted by the loud cries of Frank and the madman, come upon tlr in in the inaninc’s den in time to save the former from a horrible death. Neither of the boys could form an opinion of the strange creature, whom they had known as the mysterious horseman, other than that he was a dangerous lunatic. This they could un- derstand, or rather, this they knew, but there was much about him that they could not under- stand, much that was mysterious and unaccount- u e. “ I’d like to know his history, fora fact.” said Henry. “ but if he will only keep away from us in the future, we’ll call the trnsaction square. In other words, if he’ll abandon us, we’ll aban- don him, and no questions asked.” Continuing their flight down the stream. they came at length to a small island covered with thick timber, the creek being fully a quarter of a mile wide at this point, and running very swift. Standing on this island, with’ his fore-feet resting on a rock that jutth out in the stream, with his head up and neck stretched forward, was a deer, or mountain antelope. He seemed to be regarding the boat with mingled feelings of fear and curiosity, the latter predominating. _ . In an instant Henry raised his rifle, took quick aim at the beautiful creature and fired. The bullet sped true to its mark. The deer gave a leap in the air, then fell to the ground in a death-struggle. The boys were delighted. Now they would I feast sumptuously. Immediately they ran the boat ashore, and all got out, Frank taking the little girl in his arms. By this time Henry was standing astride of the dead animal, and his face was flushed with excitement. “ Wasn’t that a capital shot?” he cried- “ straight through the heart. Now for a good dinner such as we haven’t had fora week.” It did not take him long to dress the deer and prepare a large piece of the meat for roasting, and by the time he had done this, Frank had a fire built between two logs in the very center of the island, and cut off from observation from the Stream by thickly scattered trees and dense foliage. Here the meat was roasted, and here our young friends appeased their hunger and re~ mained for full two hours resting. The boys did not care to sleep, but the little girl lay down upon the ground. and with Henry’s coat for a pillow, soon fell into a sound slumber. ' “ “ What are we going to do with this poor lit- tle waif?” at length spoke up Frank, glancingat the sleeping girl. “ I don’t know,” replied Henry; “you say her father is probably dead i” “There can be no doubt of it; but she has other friends living, I think. The robber chief’s wife, the Ind an woman, mother of the little girl, was left at the cave, also several of the onfr law gang. They must be there still.” ‘ “ Then, there is where Inez should be taken,” declared Henry; “ we have no right to keep her away from her mother.” “But how aboht ourselves—will it not be dangerous for either of us to return? and then, for that matter, how are we to find the place?; I doubt if I could find it in a thousand years.” So there were a number of difiiculties in the way of returning Inez to her friends; and the boys concluded to let the matter rest awhile and await'dcvelopments. During the conversation somethin was said of Chung F0, the Chinaman, and rank ex- pressed a belief that the robbers had murdered him in cold blood long since. " Henry thought different, and said that t Chinaman had no doubt esca ed. ' _ ; , “ He’s a wonderfully sly 02," said the boy “ and as cunning as a fox. He has outwitted the robbers in some way, depend upon it.” The day was now far advanced, and not wish- i " ing to remain the night on the island, the boys concluded to continue their journey at once. So they aroused Inez from her sound sleep, and the three proceeded to the water. “ Where is the boat?” asked Henry. ~ “ I left it here,” replied Frank, looking at the ' sandy shore. “ But it is not here now,” said Henry. True enough, the boat was not there, neither was it anywhere else in the immediate vicinity; , it wasnowhere to be seen; it had strangely dil~ ‘ apgearedl at there, in the sand, near where the boat \ End been left, was the imprint of a man’s heavy , r not. ’ ' This told something. .__-. CHAPTER XV. A STRANGE CAI’TIVITY. “TImmuniuc has been l!(‘1'U,LllL’.i} is plain,"de- clnred Henry; “ he has left; his tracks in the sand. Look! don’t you sue them?” “The maniac, or somebody else,” returned Frank ;——“ Somebody wilh heavy boots.” “ Not an Indian, sure,” observed Henry. “In- dians wear moccasins.” ' ‘“ Perhaps some white man may have been prowling around?” * “Perhaps so; but not likely. I am more .than satisfied that it is the work of the maniac. ", He must have followed us V(-1‘)’ close, I think.” “But; he could not have i'r‘l‘on‘cd us aloof,” observed Frank; “ we have 1.1 urn-led very rapid ‘ ' ly, remember.” The boys could not arrive at any deilnife conclusion; but one thing was certain, the boat was gone: so what were they to do? The island was only a slender sirip of land, and on eitherside the \Vilti‘l‘ wns swift. and deep, {and the distance to the shore either way was — considerable. The boys, of course. might be able to swim it, but how about. the liltle girl? M She was a captive indeed. There was no '. ,. chance of her escape from the island only by a boat, or raft, or in some other way, as yet- un- * known to the boys. A close observation of all ports of the island » more than warranted this conclusion. “ It’s mighty annoying," grow lcd Henry " but what a re we going to do about it?” I, “Idon’t. know; stay here, Isuppose. Thor , is half a deer left, anyway." 2 , “That won’t: last long, with such an appoiin '_ as you’ve got.” v r ‘ Well, 1l’ I knew just what to expect from the outside, just who is watching us, I wouldn’t feel solhadly about ii,”said Frnv “ As it is We may get picked up by the rod-sl. . . or, some other enemy, any moment. ,I am ir ’* favor of leaving this place as soon as possible.” ‘ .Henl‘y was silent; a moment; then said: “ Why not build a ram" “That’s so; why not?” echoed Frank. r The boys thought; the scheme a good one, so 'began work at once, and when dm'krzots set in j that. night, the raft was well-nigh complete. “We l1 give it tho finishing touches in the morning,” decided Henry, as they quite work ‘ late that evening. “ And in the morning-4’ said Frank. “We’ll go down the stream n~flyinu,”inter- , . Stunted Henry. "‘ If I am not: mistaken the ' “1ng will float; like a. top.” The young men werequibe enthusiastic over V the new venture. ' They had now food enough to last them seve- ml days, .if used sparingly, and with a good raft, floating on a. strong; current, they felt com ‘ fldent of fin ing civilization of some kind before ’ any hours had flown. So they prepared to pass the night on the isl- ' and, A bed of leaves was made for Inez, while From: and Henry lay near her on the ground, each with his rifle within easy grasp. _ There was no menu that; night, and the sky was dark with clouds. In the morning the sky was 'a quiet blue, with'no clouds visible. and the The Border Rovers. air was sort. and balmy. Soon the sun came up, and then our young friends uwuke and greeted the day with smiles of ij and words of thank- fulncss. , Breakfast was prepared at once and eaten, then the l'ugilivos slurred for the raft, think- ing *0 complete it in :1 few moments, and be off. Down by the water’s edge they halted and surveyed the rocky shore. They had left the rain on the stream, in plain View, securely fastened to a rock; but it was not there now; like the bout, it had mysteri- ousl y disappeared! The boys looked for it along the shore the en- tire exient of the island, but it was nowhere to be seen. It. hurl either broken its fusteniugs in the night and floated away or some one had been there and stolen it, the latter probably being the case, as it seemed to the fugitwes. “Just our luck.” exclaimed Henry. “Now what; are we going to do?" "1 don’t know,” answered Frank; “perhaps it is best for us to stay here. But, first of all, I’ll like to linow the meaning of this dcviltry. tho is doing it? And why is it bung done? C'm it. be than the maniac hunter has discovered our whereabouts and is doing this sneaking work? I’d like mighty well to catch sight of him, and, as I live, I’d shoot; him down.” At this moment, Henry, who was lookingr up , lrcam, gave a warning cry, just above :3. er, and then dropped to the ground pull- ing his two companions with him. ‘f What; ails you, Henry?” whispered Frank; “ what do you see?” “ Look! look!” cried out Henry. Less than a hundred yards‘ distance, on the right; bank of the stream, coming toward them, v. ere several Indians, at dastardly—looking : Crowd, hideously painted, and evidently on the war-path. ‘ Henry did not recognize them, but Frank quil; he had been closely connected with them on a previous occasion; they were the some minted wretches from whom he‘ had escaped (in-lug the fight with the outlaws, when left. for dc hi on the battlefield. - The savages numbered :1 full dozen, all stal- wart rascals, some of them more than half inked, and all well armed with rifles, hatchets, tomohziwks and knives. “They are looking for me, I know,” said Frank, ‘ and they’ve followed my trail mighty close, for n fncbl" The red—skins moved along very quietly, and When opposite the island, halted, and began to counsel among themselves. The boys could see them very plainly, .now, and Henry noted with horror 21 number of bloody scalps hanging to their belts, and, among the number, one with long black hair, which was easy to be recognized as that; of the maniac hunter. v “ They haye murdered him, sure,” muttered the boy; “ murdered him in cold blood.” “Whom do you mean?” asked Frank; “the robber chief l” “ No; the maniac. Look! isn’t that his goal hanging to the belt. of the leader of the bloo - thirsty crowd?” “ It is. it is.” answered Frank. who also recon \ _ The Border Rovers. L I 29 nized other scalp-3, those of several of the out- laws, including {b'lt of the robber chief. “I see now what would have been my fate had I stayed with them I" The Consultation of the savages lasted only a. few seconds, then they continued their prowl- ing march down the stream. "The rascals missed us, anyway,’ remarked Henry, “for which I am very thankful, for I didn’t want to full into their hands again. I hope they’ll not return.” “Like as not filmy will,” observed Frank; “can’t tell much nbout these red-skins; they are a cunning,r set. One thing, we are rid of the maniac.” This brought to mind the fact that somebody besides the madman must have stolen the bout of the fugitives, and also run away with the raft which luul been left idly rocking on the water the night before. “Certainly not these’ red-skins,” suggested Henry; “ they have only ,‘just arrived.” “And not the maniac, ’ said Frank, “for he is dead.” It was amystery. Perhaps there might be a white hunter, or miner, livingr near. The boys thought of this, but Could not con- clude that such was the case, and, even then, that did not account for the mysterious disap- penrance of the boat and raft. Returning to Where they had passed the night, the fugitives began to discuss the situation. They were not certain now that they cared to leave the island—for a while, at least—because of the presence of the red‘sliins, who might pounce down upon them at any moment. While thus discussing among themselves. a prolonged yell was heard, comingr from a point not a quarter of a mile down the stream. This was followed by the cracking of rifles; then came louder and fiercar yells and screams, fol- lowed by more sharp reports, in all, complete repetitions of the battle sounds whicir both Frank and Henry had hoard on other occasions. The sudden din of conflict took both the young men by surprise. ’ They did not know what to think or say. One thing was certain—the red skins who had so recently passed by Were a party in the fight, Y but of whom the other party was composed, our , youn friends were unable to determine. Per aps tho latter were fugitives like them- selves, thought the boys, and if so, it would be no more than right to lend them a helping hand. “Let’s investigate, anyhOW,” said Frank, “ and if we can do anybody any good, why do it. This time we will be the enemy m‘ambush; we’ll beat the savages at their own game.” “But Inez,” said Henry—“what can we do with Inez?” . “Leave her here among the rocks: .rirn is per. fectly safe here,” replied Frunk. “il’u’ll not be gone long, depend upon it. Come, Henry, come.” _ fl The little girl wnsloft in a sane place on the island, and instructed to remain there until either or both of the b0 3 returned. . The latter, divesting hemselves of a portion of their clothing, took to the water, and were soon safely landed on the opposite shore. There they found their weapons, riflls and revolvi-rs lying in the sand where the boys had ill!".-\Vll them before they themselves had Ventured into the water. sent over in the shine Why. There were still Sounds of conflict in the air, yells, shouts, ‘rrenms and the (trucking of riflr-s. Then came a cessutirin of these sounds, an in- terruption of the b'itl‘le, which sormed to indi- cate victory or defeat for one of the contending forces. Frank and Henry, without much thought of consequences, hurried toward the scene of con- ict. They fairly made their fret fly, springing over rocks, rushing through thick bushesand > tangled vines, (lodging among trees and bend- ing honghs, until finally they found themselves in an open space, at the extreme end of which opposite to where they stood, at the foot of a. ledge of rocks, was what seemed to be aca'bin, nnd which was. in fact, the home of the un- known iniuor where the boys had passed a week some time before. And here was the scene of battle. A quantity of ammunition was also i A dozen cowardly savages were intent on ,V :upiurins.r the house, which was being bravply and successfully defended, but by whom the boys did not know. . “Strange that we did not know that the’ house was so near,” muttered Frank; “we could have been there long ago had we known it.” They secreted themselves in the bushes, with- to watch proceedings closely. in easy rifle range of the red-skins, and began ,.-. The suvages were not very daring in their at- . tack on the house; they kept concealed most of he time behind moss and 'ri-(s, venturing out occasionally to fire their riflus and make other. i warlike demonstrations toward the enemy in the house. r Presently, however, they began to show signs of a des )erate move of some kind, and then , with sud en fury, they were seen to leave the! . hiding-places and dash toward the house. ’- whoopiug, yelling, shouting and firing their _ _; rifles as they rushed along. s Then came three death-tellinq- shots, one from the house and two from the bushes, and“ three of the howling crowd fell dead in their,“ tracks. CHAPTER XVI. CONCLUSION. FRANK/11nd Henry had fired the two fatal shots from the bushes, and immediately follow- ‘ ed them up with other shots. usmg their revel? vers now, which were equally as death~dealipg - as their rifles. r... .nesnvn'p‘s were taken completely by Isur» prise. Believing that a large force of white; - were about to full upon them, they turned Yam. 5' fled like frightened deer. . Approaching the house, the boys observed a toll. gray-haired man standing by the door. A a ’ smoking rifle was in his hand, and in his belt» knife. was thrust a. brace of pistols and a long-bladed " "' .‘ / “ Yes—a very r 80 The Border Rovers. “I didn’t expect help from anybody,” said the man, as the boys halted in front of 1m. “ l reckon I’d ’a’ been a goner, though, of ye hadn’t come jist as ye did; ’twas mighty lucky. “’hei‘s \ do you come from, and who are you?" ‘ be boys very briefly gave an account of ‘ themselves, and then Frank asked the stranger .: name. “ Mose Bradle ,” was the reply; “ those who know me best cal me ‘Uncle Mose.’ I’ve lived yer along while, but it’s gitting too hot fer me now; I’ll have to leave. Once I had the whole country hereabouts all to myself, but now the thing is badly cut up, and I don’t dare sta here any longer. But, 8 kin of the red evils, how many of ’em di we hi 1 in all?” “ I don’t know; I didn’t count either the living or the dead,” returned Frank; “ the dead were carried away.” “ Five or six fell,” declared Henry. “ It was a bad drubbing we gave them.” “ The rascals are running yet, I reckon,’I added the stranger; ” they’ll not come back, depend upon it.” The boys here spoke of Inez, and proposed , to return for her at once. “ Have you a boat?” asked Henry. I cod one," replied the man. “ It has been sto en from me once or twice; cpl night before last I found it fastened to a roclzjust the ver place that you are going now.” The ‘boys loo ed at each other and smiled. The mysterious disappearance of the boat was now explained. ‘It was not much of a trip to the island, where the boys went at once. They found the little ‘ girl ‘ust as they had left her, and placing her in the at the three started at ones for the habi- 'tation of their new-found friend. A short distance from the island, lodged among a uantity of brush and driftwood, was the raft w%ich the young fugitives had built, I ' _and which had no doubt worked itself loose from ‘ shore and floated away in the night. Soanother mystery was explained. Reaching the stranger’s abode, the young peo- ple were granted the full liberty of the place; , ‘5 .. r they ,were given food and shelter, the old fron— -' fiiersman treating them with the utmost kind- } a nose. {"7 Speaking of himself, he said that he had lived there in the mountains several years, not as a. hunter or tra per, but as a gold~digger; had ,been succesafu in this, and bad lately sold his 1. -, accumulated gold .dust to an Eastern merchant, ._ ' ‘to whom he had taken it, for enough money to keep him the rest of his life. “I have only just got back from there,” he said" “I thought I’d stay here awhile longer, but won’t; its too hot for me. I’ll go Eust V. and live with my eople. But first I want to ,. find my partner. e’s astrange-looking chap— lrind 0’ wild like. Maybe vou have seen him ' ’ somewhere." \ “You don’t mean a crazy man, do you!" questioned Henry, quickl . , “That’s the ticket," rep led the man, without hesitation; “ crazy? I should say so; he’s aper- ' ,, ,‘ foot maniac. He went crazy about three months " " ago, and took to the hills. I’ve tried my best to but it’s no lo: he’s too sly for ma. ,2 When I saw him last he looked like a wild ani- mal. I can’t understand why he is afraid of me—his old partner, who would die for him, al- most. He followed me East, but I lost track of him at the Missouri river. I reckon he must have started back. Poor fellow. The trouble with his head was brought on b a fall; I reckon it must have cracked his sku l. Anyway, he never got over it; in a few days after he got the tumble he went stark mad, and now he is just like a wild animal. Tell me, have you seen such a person anywhere?” Again another mystery was explained. The strange, wild creature, whom the boys had known as the mysterious horseman, now de veloped into theinsane partner of the old miner Briefly the young men told the old man thl story of their experience with the crazy ranger, concluding with the assertion that he was now undoubtedly dead, as they had seen his scalp hanging to the belt of an Indian warrior. “ I had expected as much,” observed the old man. “I knew it would come to that—l knew it would; but it makes me feel awful bad to think of it—it does, by mighty.” The grief of the old hunter-miner was genuine, but, like everything else, it had its end, and other matters came up for consideration. Something must be done for Inez. There was no doubt of the death of her father, but for all any of our friends knew to the contrary, her mother and several of the outlaw band were still living. “Better take or home at once,” suggested the miner. “ he’s a nice little gal, but it wouldn‘t be right to keep her away from her friends. Let’s go at once. ’ “ But isn’t it dangerous for us to venture among the outlaws?” was the very natural query of Henry. The miner explained that he was on friendly terms with the outlaws, had once saved the life of the robber chief, and this, together with the fact that Inez was being returned to her home by them, would certainly give them immunity from danger. - It was therefore decided to go at once, and early the next morning they started. It was a tiresome journey of two days, but the end was reached at last, and without hesita- tion the miner and his three companions entered the cave. ’ Then followed a terrible revelation. Scattered about in the several rooms of the cave were the dead bodies of all that remained of the outlaw band, including the wife of the robber chief, the mother of the little girl, Inez. There was not a spark of life in any of the bodies :they had seemingly been cold several days. And, more mysterious still, there was not a wound of any kind on afly of them, not a spot of blood, not the slightest evidence of a life or death struggle with an open enemy! But the Cbinaniau—where was he? Another revelation came like a flash of light. The Chinaman was nowhere to be found, either living or dead; he had gone, nobody could tell where. Upon him therefore rested the suspicion of murder. There was little doubt that he had cunningly awaited his opportunity and poisoned the whole crowd] - \ sun-w .: K‘Q‘. ‘ ywam... J‘s/H. v' , a... -wme 2:31.’ - - «luau , l “A, w‘ a...“ " :fiim 4.4”.“ I‘AQ‘M“ r The Border Rovers. ' 31 In justificatian of this belief, a quantity of belladonna leaves were found near the rude fire- place, where the Chinaman was wont to prepare the daily meals, and this, together With the fact that he was missing, stamped him. as the mur- derer. Having thus summarily disposed of his enemies, the cunning wretch had_ no doubt pro- vided himself with all necessaries for a long journey and set out for the Paolfic Coast. At any rate, he was never afterward seen or heard of by any of our friends. The latter did not remain long at the cave- they Were glad to get away from the scene 0 death, and doubly glad to reach the comforta- ble habitation of the old miner which they did at a late hour the following nig t. The grief of little Inez over the loss of her relatives and friends was terrible. The poor little waif was not long for this world, however; she had never fully recovered from the harsh treatment received at the hands of the maniac miner, and a few days following the knowledge that her mother was dead, she, too. sickened and died. They buried her by the side of the stream, and marked the grave with a granite stone, upon which Henry had cut in rude letters the one word “ Inez.” The next day, having made all preparations to leave the cOuntry, the old miner, accom- mnied by Frank and Henr , also an old dog, Misery, set out for the regn ar Overland Trail, where they hoped to fall in with a. company of western-bound travelers. ' “This ’ere dog,” explained the miner, to the questioning look of the two lads, “is mine only by inheritance; he belonged to my partner. He’s a mighty good dog fer Ingins, but poor fer everything else, but, having been my partner’s dog, I’ll take him with me.” ' They reached the trail the next day, and three days later, as good luck would have it, sighted an emigrant train bound for California. The rest can be told in a very few words. The boys found friends among the emigrants, who, hearing theirthrilling story, regarded them as young heroes. The old miner also came in for a share of admiration. Gladly the emigrants took them into their train. and six weeks later the golden shores of California were reach and the friends of the long, weary journey part- ed company, some going one way, and some another. Only Frank and Henry remained to- gether. , And as it was then, so it is now, they are in- separable friends andcompanions. THE END. l'merhnnler, Hm Eloy Rt'hnl. nl'lhn (.‘wn! Nnrlh “'nnlls. . V (: Hull'nlo l l $IV~I=> >1 {- .————_.‘ -d = z aafipwn _; .. ’l‘ruppel- 'l‘om, thu \\'n.nl Imp. ' llow llnlr, the Buy Chlel'nl tln: l’nnn The Snow \Vondn 'nml \"utbrs. l 28 29 30 81 32 38 3L 1 35 "kl 'I‘nr Kmu . Ill} Tim Ilnuhlu A (lnnl 3’? Night-flunk (loo 1:“. M 1". IN The Boy l'lxllt‘i ul‘Hilu-rln. 89 The You“): “our lluntm- 40 Smart» Him. Llh‘ InuI will: I. II- . l'v Ilel ’l‘ho l rr'n Sou. I \\’ 42 43 I “and liox nu: lion. Hun-Ins: Nicol, hing n € \V Ill The, Boy lru-irulor. [iv (' ’l‘llo Chime nl' the G rent \\’ mum... I]. l'n lJll x. from llnylmml tn Mnnhnml. lly I‘nl. I'm-m vAlln-u \‘l'l [\ilzvn, rl-lul' ml llu- l’nn‘lnww‘. . .‘le 1 ml- \ lum 4H il-zuhu ) loving: Jun: . l'ust. I Peter lfcmxcrgrnw, the Lul'urnlI-yrlll Nnnh Null. Aalrlt't ml the l'rnlrlo. nnd on tho Bull’nlo lhxmzo. The Fortune Hunter; ur, llnn mnvnm 'l‘mn l'r Itiw lnr l‘nwu ‘ Rolling M lnnnl l-l L‘hl. l’rmll led In or Roux. V _. i v Id-l’lnin 'luzn Ill Faun." Htur)‘. l;_v (‘n Snow-Shoo ’l om. I’unl Ilu Lucy. --_ 4' w . pom Man-:4! (My. .\ The Sword l’rlnce. 1mm (Emmy. lloy i’m-d. lax-m. l lvll ux nlio ‘i‘t'ihl Hill. In: l'lslnl l'r ’l'lu- l’rnlI-lr RAH-uh. lt -h | 1 . 'l'ln- llislm'y m .-. n 1: m m n. In I‘.ln mm! .1... 54-. :w :lml. . 1:..4... .r .n. mrqmn. ” ’ lu- and. In . - l; I. fill]. rumGnthnm. lay Anmlonr llnntorn n,- nn mun... ' .lm pornml llnnlnr. In- A. . l:\ ’l‘. ru . l_\' 'l'. (3. ll‘ll'lwugh. Old lil'lzzly Adnmu, the lL-nr ’l‘nnn-r. lly Dr, Frank llv (mm. mm Whitmlu'r. (.m- ml: in Han m 1' un .\ . . r lving- ( nut. -\‘|\lelmn ul “lhnluhin n... 5. Hull.) Im I mmmn- Lin» are“). Mun- n. ‘ 1 man l r. l n... (,‘lmrmnr. By C. Dunninl: (,‘lnrl: munl the In urn} nnd Cnlnw. ngu-r Mm’lmv L'.‘ nr ll all Hllc uml lh‘ re. l’". - - llmn’er. the Julian Almlim vrgnson‘n (‘rn \h l5. l' h; t‘llll Fl 1.» Hull. ml. \Vthnlu-r. aw; nml (‘mn ) liv ‘. Dullulnql'lnrh. ' ’ l 1 e qul lllx Buy (‘hnmm lay "I'm-(non; or. T ry (ll Hun. (llmrgu (I l‘ ml. \Vlllll ‘ ‘ lngrnlmm. By '1'. .1 l. Hm \lmr Ill-n . . t 013 or. My ('4 t 41 The 1.0% 803' \\ 4 4d} 47 The (tolm-ml Hy Jnsxrph l The Pt 50 Jun 5| 'l‘llej'ollllg Luntl-LIIhhcr. 52 TI 'l' 53 l 54 ( "nut 55 'I‘In 'l'w fill The Mum‘ Hunter y l’-m' ll (17 Ilnrry Holnern, Lln: Snilnr “My Mngiun ll ‘. llnrry m Hm. I 45 lirouvn llllly. tlw Smidlu l’ri [bk-k, the Mnn‘nwny. ‘ n Bovnz v-r, Lil'unnnn llnll- l Ir. 'r'. 4!. Unfit-HAL hunk.) (‘lmrllm 1 By (tum, FrmL “'lvltlJlH-r. lloy lbet [(0 cut ‘I . v, ly mm ‘uli l‘o *nflel- I’me-e. lIm-I'v; n (‘l‘llV 0M. 11v Ilmuuh. l l r, 'I'lru L‘nuulry ISH]: Adrift in tho . m Ina, the l )stnrimm l’lninanmn. r 15y (71.1. nu. n... Irlnntor. - ~ mwnm \V'llvlt. ul' . m. ny w. 58 The Advcnturonu ’Lll'o ol'Un wtsdn JILL-k, Uh: l b’orllur Hay. By (va1. Prunlins lugrn nun. .107 \ VERY s luv orlhn Mlnm, tut-PK. My '1'. .. llnrhnngh. (ii The TI» ‘ 'I'lw Culorntlo linys in Ela. phuuLLnxnl. My .1...“ ', m‘1‘,.lr. Carver, tln- " Evil slnlrit " M'thc l‘lnlnn. By / l. lruntisa 111:: nhnm, Blnok lluI-He 'Blll, thu llnnnlil “'rm‘her. By Roger Stu-buck. (H: Young; Dick 'l‘nlbot. lly Allu-rt \V‘ Ailm-n. The Boy l’llot. ll)" Col. l’n'ntiw lnurnhmn. I ll - . t flower: or Stuwnwny Dirk Among tha .. lSy ('hnrhw' Mm ‘ o m‘ (‘llnrlio, llxv m3 Rnngvr. lly(‘ol. lngrnhnm. ‘ Little Rifle; or, The Young Fur Iluntrrs. By Cnptniu “ Bruin ” Atlnms. The Young Nlhlllnt. By Chnrlm Morris. Pony the (‘ou‘hmu I}. nr 11. M. Stmldnrd, H :I ll Holman-t mul lllA Hour. By Cnplnin “ Bruin ” Albums. The Flo lmnl. lly Cunt. Frederick \Vhlttaker. The Young: . [now-llnnIm-n. My W. H. Mnnninu. ’l'llu Boy ('ox-nl - ll'lnhcrn. By R mar Stnrbuck. ' Revolver llllly. lly (ml. Prentiss lnzrnlmln. The Condor Kllluru. lly’l‘. C. llnrhnngh. Lud Llnnhccln, the Young Tiger Fighwr. By Roger Sinrblka. ’Z'R Flathont Fred. By Edward Willnll. Randy Oct. 10. 7” Boone, the llnnh-r. lly (antnin l". Whitlnker, 250 Re Ben, the Lung lllllu of the UllRl‘llllt‘E. By Ringer Stnrlnn-h. 31 The Klt. Clll'fll)“ (‘lnlh By '1'. C. Hnrhnngh. 82 Little Hut-k. tlm Buy Guide. By llnrrv Ringgold. 81 l . th'lilcss Rider of the Rockies. By Col. Pony Bob, l v. I'rwltks lnumlmm. 9’! Cnptnln I’ly-lny-ngllt. By Joseph E. Bndgar, Jr. ‘nptnln Rul h. the Young Explorer. lly (‘. I). Clnrk. ' thtlc [Inn lock-p4. By Norris llmlwing. ‘i” The Mcnnrcrlc "nun-r94. Hy Mnj. ll. Grenville. The Boy 'l‘rxunpn; or, Ll.u Among thu Gipsiea. By . . I. llnll'nunl. ’LonguhoI-o Lljo. By (7. T7. Mark. 90 “loving Rlllo, (fuslcr'n Littlc Scent. By T. C. Hur- mu‘vll. Oregon Joull, the \V' llnrl'lmuxc Klt. l‘ A. . ‘. J um plm: Jnke, the Colornllo (‘Arcns Boy. By Ill-yum, limlml'hlxc. sum finellvc. n... llromllwm lluv. ny Ed. wmm, " Moscow to l-‘lherln: Dr, A Ynnlwe Nov 1.4: the Rescue. l;_\' «mm-m Morris. P‘lghllng Fred; H, Hm C'nntnwnys ot' Grizzly Cnmp. In» T. It. llnrhnngh. CI-nluo of the Flynwny. lly ‘3 Dunning Clnrk. The Roy Vlu‘llunlen. lly Mnj. lll ll. Stmldnnl. The “’hlte 201's. Br ('nnt (‘lml'h-n lluwnrd, 17 The Snow-Shot: Ill. My St. (loorgn Rnthhone. 101 Thu-Inna, the Uttnwlt (llrl. lly Edwnnl Ellis. 102 The. Flynwny Allout. By C. Dunning Clnrk. 103 PM. Mnllonvy‘n Adventnrm‘. ByC. l..I-Zdwnrda. ’ “H I he Boy l’rosm-x-lor. lly Rog r Stnrhnr-k. 105 mnone‘c, the wmn wan-h. By mm" Emerson. 10‘: The. [Boy (‘rlllncrm 1y l':(l\\'l|l’1l ‘Vlllrfl. Border Rovers. By J. Milton linmnnn. - .\ my 1. n. the Wn'f-anen. )lny 8. I: r) .1 .1 p) .1 n1 Rill“. By Roger Smrbuek. l" llnh 9.8 99 10 BV Cnlrt. llownrd Lincolm Clll‘llitllln Jim. th.- White Mnn‘l Fricnd. By Edwnrd S. Ellis. iemly Mny 15. y Joe, the Buy Avongnr. By J. M. Hoflnmn. )‘lny 9-2. Border Glummkcr. y May 29. , By Jmne: L. Bowen. londle’n lloy’u Llhrnry is for Mlle hy nll Newwdealen. live cum pl'r copy, or ncnt by null] rm receipt ol'six cents each. BEAIILE AN]! ADAMR, Publlnheru, 98 Wllllam Street, New York.