Copyrighted, 1887, by Bum“ um ADAMS. Entered at the Post Ofiice M New York, N. Y.. as Second Class Mail Matter. April 9, 1887.

 

V01  $2.50 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams, Prlce No 155
I I I I

.
0 Yeah No. 9B WILLIAM S12, NEW YORK. five 00"“-

 

 

7 “NIHE'EUWW‘ “

«I

 

_—.-—._.._ _.___ .._7__ i ,_

AS THE GLARB FILLED THE ROOJ- AN ANGRY ROAR BAOKE FROM HIS L‘PB.

 

8 Dusky Dick’s Doom.

Dusky Dick’s Doom;

Tobe Castor, the 01d Scout.

A. Story of the Sioux Outbreak.

BY JOS. E. BADGER, JR,
umnonior “THE PRAIRIE RANCH.” “MARI-
POSA MARSH,” “ ROUND THE CAMP-
rmm,” “an COLORADO
novs,” ETC.

CHAPTER I.
DUSKY DICK‘s PROPOSAL.

“ANNIE, girl, who is that coming up the
spring path? Ah, me! I fear my old eyes are
beginning to fail me at last!”

Coming up the— Ugh! father, it is that
Dick Morgan!”

“ Dusk Dick—-what can he want here, I won-
der?” an there wasa cadence of mingled un-
easiness and dislike erceptible in the old man’s
tones that told too 1: ainly the advancing figure
was not that of a welcome or respected guest.

The first 3 eaker was an old man, whose head
was frosted y the snows of over half a century

. and whose form—still athletic and supple—was
beginning to bow beneath the weight of years.
An honest, open face was that of old Edward
Wilson; a true index of his heart.

‘fiHelwas sitting in the doorway of his humble

g cabin, smoking the well-blackened pipe as a
dessert to supper, just finished. But as he spoke
the last words, he roused himself up and stood

“with crossed arms in the doorway, as though he
would fain bar the intruder out, who was now
within a fewpaces of the building.

The form of this man was clothed in a rough
garb of tanned skin and woolen stuff, despite

he warm weather, and a broad-brimmed
slouched hat rested upon his head, concealing
the upper portion of his face from casual view.
A lon —barreled rifle rested carelessly in the hol-
low 0 his left arm, while the bait of a knife,
and; revolver butt peeped from the belt at his
wa . i

“ Good-evenin’, Wilson, and the same to you,
Miss Annie,” he uttered in a clear strong voice,
as be half paused, and then with a Careless ges-
ture pushed the hat away from his brow.

The clear mellow light of the full moon shone
down upon him, an fairly revealed his fea—
tures. glance at them may not be amiss, as
this wort ‘
prominently in our narrative.

At the first glance, a strange peculiarity
about him would attract the gaze, and leave an
unpleasant impression upon the mind of the be-
holder. And yet it was not that the man was
so hideous, in features

But there was a strange tint to his entire face
and neck that involuntarily repelled one. And
from this had come the’sobriquet, known far
and wide throughout the western country of
Dnsxr DICK.

Indeed, more than one person who was well

acquainted with him, would have been puzzled

y is destined to figure somewhat

 

to have told whether he ever had any other
name. And Moran seemed to be rather proud
of the title, than otherwise.

In some way he had been badly burned by an
explosmn of powder, and though no other scars
were perceptible, this bluish tinge caused by the
burned powder penetrating the skin, remained
clear and distinct. The dye did not fade as he
grew older, but seemed to deepen and show

righter

His features were regular and clear cut; his
face was kept smooth shnrn, though the black In-
dian-like hair hung far down his shoulders.
There were not-a few who secretly asserted that
he came 1) this last trait fairly, and wondered
only that ie had not the curved nose and high
cheek—bones as well.

His black eyes were of a. fair size, but dull and
sleepy-looking, save when he was angered; then
one was strangely reminded of an infuriated
serpent, so wicked did the flash and scintillate.
In form he was tall, broad-shouldered and well
built, being somewhat noted for his skill in the
use of weapons, fleetness of foot and prowess as
a wood-ranger.

“ Good-evening, Dick,” coldly uttered the set-
tler in reply, evidently not caring to encourage
the man, as he still stood in the narrow door-
way, without a hint for the other to enter.

“Heard the news?” added Dusky Dick as a
slight frown crosse his face, and a smoldering
glow lit up his dar ' eyes.

“No—I don‘t know as I have. What is it?"
listlessl responded Wilson as he deliberately
crush up some ‘ natural leaf,’ and crammed it
into the wide—mouthed pipe-bowl. “Bring me
a coal, Annie.”

“ ’Bout the red-skins. They‘ve got tha’r backs
up at last, and thar’s goin’ to be the tallest kind
0 a muss afore the thing’s over,” and there
seemed to be a faint tinge of exultation in the
tones of the speaker, that did not escape the
keen-witted borderer.

“ How is it that you know so much of their
feelings, Dusky Dick? A body might almost
 you were one of them, by the way you

Morgan gave vent to a low lau h—deep,
smooth and mellow, but yet filled wi a pecu-
liar meaning. Then he replied: -

“ I travel fur and keep my ears open, nei h-
bor, as a man must needs do in these troub ed
times and in a new country. I have kivered
nigh onto fifty miles to—day since sun-u .
stopped hero to tell you the news. If you t ink
it’s wu’th oiferin‘ a teller a cheer and a bite of
somethin’ to eat, I’ll tell you it all. If not, then
we’ll call it quits and I’ll go furder.”

“ Come in—I did not think,” added Wilson, a
little ahashed, for border hospitality is 1‘0.—
verbial. “ Annie, give him what we have. all
to, friend, and welcome.”

With a nod toward Mrs. Wilson, who was
seated at the further end of the rude apartment,
quietly knitting, Dusky Dick took a seat at the
table and helred himself liberallyto the plain
though palatable viands that 'Annie hastened
to re lace upon the table. The girl then ignited
a nu e lamp, and retreated to the side of her
mother. / ‘

We do not intend describing the ouilding. 1t

\

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dusky Dick's Doom. ‘3

 

was a, regular frontier cabin, made of lo 5
ton hl hewn, “chinked” with billets of w ,
dau over with stiffened clay. The walls
were unpapered, and the furniture of the
rudeat description, the ma'ority of it “home
made,” the ax and anger ing the principal
tools used.

But one of the inmates, at least, deserves
more than a passing notice, as she will figure
quite prominently before the reader in this
tale of border life and trials. This one is Annie
Wilson.

Barely five feet in higlit, she was a model of
feminine grace and beauty, tempered and
strengthened by the life of freedom and health-
giving exercise of the past two years. Her

orm ad filled and rounded to superb symmetry,

her cheek glowed with the hue of health and
spirits; at eighteen she was a woman, in the
truest sense of the word.

Her hair was of a rich golden brown, her eyes,
large and lustrous, were deep blue; her nose, of
a faintly Roman type, gave a decisive expression
to her countenance, that was softened by the
small, ruby—lipped mouth, from which gleamed
twin rows of pearly teeth whenever she smiled,
and caused a cunning dimple to play upon the
softly- rounded chin.

Dusky Dick ate voraciously, but yet found
time to cast more than one admiring glance to-
ward the border beauty, which were by no
means welcome, judging from the scornful turn
of the bright red lips and the flashing of her blue
eyes as the maiden bent over some rough mend-
ing. Then Morgan arose and approached the
settler, who was still smoking.

“ You don’t ask me the news,” he uttered, in
a disagreeable tone, as he squatted down upon
the doorstep.

“ I knew you’d tell it without,” was the quiet

rep y.

“Yes, that’s what I stopped fer. The Sioux
are oin’ to raise partic’lar Cain ’fore long.”

“ re on sure?”

“ I h it from tha’r own lips,” was the confi-
dent reply.

“ You seem to be very thick with them, Dick.
Some might think it strange they should tell
you this, unless you, were in with them thicker

han an honest man should be,” and the settler
gazed keenlgegt his visitor.

“ The ’d t not say so in my hearin’,” mut-
tered organ, with an ominous scowl. “ But
I’ve al’ays acted on the . uare with ’em, and so
they give me the hint. t’s been brewin’ for a
long time, and they ve made up tha’r minds
not to stand any more of this everlastin’
cheatin’. But never mind that jest now. I
had other motives in stoppin’ here,” and
Dusky Dick cast a sidelon glance at the stur-
dy settler-—a glance that in it not a little
uneasiness

“If there is anything else that I should know,

Dick Morgan, now’s the time to say it."

“What d’ on intend doin’, anyhow?"
“AbOut w at?”

“Why—the Injuns, 0’ course.”

“They will not trouble rue—anyhow, I shall

stay here until I am more sure of what the ln-'

tend doing. I won’t leave my property wi out
good cause.” »

_/

 

“You’ll git rubbed out, then, shore. You re-
member Sloan Young? You turned him out 0’
doors once, because he was drunk—"

“Because he insulted the women, the dirty ‘

half-breed,” angrily interjected Wilson.

“ Well, I don’t know. Anyhow, he’s a big
man ’mong Some 0' the Injuns, and he swears he
will use thiséhance to rub you out. NowI don’t
like Youn , and I‘ll save you, if you say so.
Petit Cor eau is a strong friend 0’ mine, and
will back me ag’inst Young. What do you say i”

“Speak plain. You are holding something
back, Dusk Dick. Why should you do all this
for me? e have not been such close and inti-
mate friends as all that comes to. What is it
you mean?”

The other appeared somewhat discomposed at
this straightforward speech, and his treacherous
eyes shifted uneasily and fell .from before the
steady aze of the old settler. But then he re-
spon , , with a forced laugh:

“ You’re in a awful hurry, Wilson, but so be
it. I’ll come to the p’int at once and then we
may see the we clear before us. Then it ’mounts
to Jest this. 1’ I agree to save your stock, house,
crap and your lives. I’ll engage that you sha’n’t
be bothered a mite, no matter how badly other
families are served—if you’ll promise me that
Miss Annie yander, shall marry me, jest’s soon’s
this trouble is fa’rly over. There, now!” and
the fellow uttered a sigh of relief.

h‘Tatherl" exclaimed Annie, rising from her
c an. -

“ Wait, daughter,” and Wilson waved his hand
for her to-keep silence. “Dick Morgan, are you
in earnest about this matter?” . -

,“ Infiearnest? Why, of course 1 am. . I’ll do

a

“Hold on—don't take too much for granted,
my man, or you may be disappointed. I thought
you knew me better than to come here with any
such pro sition as this. But since you did' not,
let me to you that I think you are a precious
fool and dirt scoundrel, and that the sooner you
take yourse away from here, the better it will
be for both of us,” and the stalwart settler arose
erect, his eyes flashing and his fists close
clinched. ‘

“ Stand back, Ed Wilson—keep our distance
or it’ll be the worse for you 1” run tered Dusky
Dick, as he involuntarily retreated a pace, at the
same time throwing his rifle-muzzle forward.

“ Don’t threaten, you cowardly cur, or I‘ll for-
get myself and give you something to growl at.
There is your road. Take it and begone, and
don’t let me ever see your ugly face ’round‘ here
again. Go!”

“Hold on a bit, Wilson,” and a vicious glitter
filled the desperado’s eyes as his fin ers nervous-
ly manipulated the rifle-lock. “ etter think
twice afore you throw away your chance. I
tell you ag’in, that if on don’t agree to m
plans, you won’t live to a day older. You’ 1
all be killed and skelped. You can’t run away,
fer you’re watched by those who would be only
too glad of a chance to fivlug yel Do as I said:
promise me her, and I’
don’t. then—” ‘

“ Hold!” rung out a clear, firm voice, as a
light, agile ii are sprung before the sturdy
settler. “ Ho] : Uncool: that gun, or I‘ll send

save you all. It you,

 

4. ‘ Dusky Dick’s Doom.

 

a bullet through your black heart! Uncock it, I
sa —and now you leave!"

ft was Annie who had thus interrupted the
conversation. and probably prevented a traged ,
for the treacherous villain had cocked his m e,
unobserved by Wilson. intending to shoot down
one whom he feared to face openly. But the
watchful eye of the daughter had noted his
action, and, , aspinv the ready rifle, had checked
his purpose as detailed.

Edward Wilson realized the peril he had so
narrowly escaped, and, as the baffled Villain
shrunk back from before the threatening muzzle
pointed by the dauntless girl. he uttered a cry of
rage, and with one enormous bound, covered the
' intervening distance and stood beside Dusky
Dick. Then one brawny hand clutched the
scoundrel’s throat. while the other arm was
drawn back to deliver a crushing blow.

Morgan dropped his rifle to remove the grip
upon his throat, the weapon exploding as it fell.
But before he could raise a hand, the hard. heavy
fist of the settler shot out and alighted full be—
tween his eyes, with a crushing thud, hurling the
man twice his len th uWfiY.

With an angr owl, organ sprung up and
Whipped out his nife—a long, venomous—looking
blade—and crouched down like a planther ready
to spring. Then again did the voice of Annie
rin out:

‘ Mind yourself, Dusky Dick! I have you
covered. and I know how to use arifle. One step
forward and down you got”

“ You see we have the best of you this time,”
quietly added Wilson. but with a menacing ring
in his low voice. “ Take your gun and bogone.
’Twoulil only serve you right if I shot you down
like a dog—as you meant to serve me; but I let
you g') this time. But the next—400k out I”

Dusky Dick did not. reply until he had secured
his rifle. Then retreating a pace he spoke:

“ And you. look out. You’ve struck me.
Good! A man never does that a second time.
I'll be even with you yet—and with her, too.
You hold the cards now—my time’ll come soon.
Jest put that in your pipe and smoke it. Maybe

ou’ll remember it afore long,” and with a hard

augh the baffled desperado turned away from
the spot.

The settler stood gazing after him irresolutely
,for a moment, but then turned toward the cabin
door. Annie’s voice checked him:

“ Who is that coming, father?”

A tall, agile figure was rapidly approaching
the cabin from the not very distant woods, bear-
in a rifle, as could be seen by the clear moon-
lig t. But whether an Indian or a white, could
not be told, as the dress partook about equally
of both races.

“ Hallow, you I” cried a high-pitched, peculiar
voice, that plainly bespoke the white man.
“ Ain‘t shootin’ at the moon, be ye? Got plenty
0’ powder, I reckon.”

, ‘Tobe Castor, by all that’s good!” exclaimed
Wilson, springing forward to meet the new-
comer, in evident delight. “You are just the
man of all others that I wanted to see.” .,

“Shel don’t say so? Want to know? Ain’t
jokin’, boys?" and then the two men warmly

 hands. like friends eta life-long stand- _

 

“ Come, Tobe; su r’s over, but I guess there
is something left. hat brought you up this
way so early in the season?”

“ Don‘t ax me now—wait ontil they ain’t lis’-
enin’,” muttered the man cautiously; then add-
ing aloud: “ Howdy, iss Annie? Purtier’n
ever, by gnml Beats all natur’ how you do‘keep
on a—gittin’ so, Sorter selfish, ain’t ye, now?
Get your own an’ a dozent more. besides—0’
good looks, Imean. Wings ’most beginned to
grow, ain’t they?” and with a fatherly freedom.
the weather-beaten old borderer stooped and im-
printed a kindly kiss upon the fair face upturned .
toward his.

“ Your tonnue has lost none of its cunning, I
see. anyhowfilnclo Tobe," laughed the maiden,
not unpleased.

“ It’s a lookin’-glass. so fur’s you’re consarned,
gal. But of you will, I’m dretful hungry—hain’t
bed a bite fur ’most two weeks, ’cept at odd
s 113. E5 you’ve got anythin’, in the b line
t et is in dancer 0’ bein’ sp‘iled, jest p ease trot
it out, while fmik with Ed, hyar.”

In obedience to a. nod from Castor, Wilson led
the way to a little distance and then briefly de—
tailed the purport of Dusky Dick’s visit. Then
he anxiously awaited the comments of his visitor.

“The dirty whelpl You’d otter ’a’ shot him
like a pole-catl' He merry—oh! git out! Makes
me mad—dumed of it don’t, now! Jest to
think. Oh won’t I—thet's all; 9! ever I it mud-
hooks on the pesky critter! But wait a it. He
told you the truth. Ed; yes, he did, so fur’s the
reds risin’ is consumed. They’re goin’ to do it—
ef i’deed they hain’t begun a’ready. They’re
jest goin’ to chew up the hull kentry store they
stop, Thar‘s goin’ to be jest a leetle the liveliest
time you ever see‘d, ’fore it’s eended.”

“ Do you think so?"

“I know so—-fer shure. An’ you're in a bad
place hyar—a pesky mean place, Ed,” impresv
sivel added Castor.

“ Vhat do you advise?”

“Jest this. Take your fambly an” pack up.
Git «out 0' hyar like ’twas ha’nted. Pull up
stakes an” travel.”

“And leave the farm—lose my two years of
hard work?” '

“ Better that then lose your skelps an’ it with
the rest. An’ thet’s jest what you 11 do of you
stay. Iiell you, Ed, it’s a ser’ous bizness, this
is. Dusky Dick told you the truth 0’ the plans
0’ the imps. An7 then you’ve sot him ag‘inst
you, too. He‘s got Injun blood in him, A pity
it happined jest now, though I don’t blame you,
not a bit. but you’d orter never ’a’ let him git
away. He’ll bring the imps down on ye, shore.
He‘s a big dog ’th a brass collar ’mongst some 0‘
them~the wu’st o’ the lot, of that kin be, Whar
all is so bad, He’s the one you must look out
for the most.” '

“ You think he’s in league with them 3”

“ I know it for shore. But whar’s Fred?”

“ Over at Stevens’s.”

“Mought ’a' knowerl that ’thout axin’; but I
don't blame the feller amite. Jinnie’s a mighty
purty gal, an’ of I wasn‘t so old an’ ugly, an’ she
wasn’t so smart. an’ all else went ’cordin’. an’
she didn’t say no, durned of I didn’t hitch onto
her myself. But never mind that now. What ,

’re you goin’ to do?”

 

 

 

 

 

but, Dick’s new. ' a

 

“ What do you advise, Tobe?”

“ Jest this: \ Take sech things as you cain’t do
’thout an’ don’t want to leave, an’ strike out fer
the bi ger settlements. I tell you, ef you stay
hyar, morrow this time won’t see ary one 0’
your skelps on the place whar natur’ ’lowed fer

em to grow ” earnestly added Castor.

“ Father-1’ called out the clear, sweet voice of
Annie at this juncture, “ all’s ready. ”

“Come, Tobe; eat a bite andI will settle my
plans. I’ll let you know then,” added Wilson,
taming toward the cabin.

 

CHAPTER II.
A FORTUNATE DISCOVERY.

CASUAL mention has been made of one “ Fred,”
who was the oldest child-and only surviving
son—of Ed ward Wilson. He had left the forest
cabin only a few minutes before the advent of
Dusky Dick, barely taking time to finish his

so per.

II)‘obe Castor was correct in his shrewd guess
as to what had attracted him so far, after a
hard day’s Work; although probably Fred would
have denied the “soft impeachment,” had any
one told him that it was only to see and chat
with Jennie Stevens, that he so frequently trav-
ersed the three-mile path that intervened be-
tween the two houses. But such was indeed the

case.

And if the truth must be told, Fred had a
faithful ally in the enemy’s camp, too, in the
shape of John Stevens, who appeared to be pro-
foundly impressed with the good ualities of the
young borderer, and seemed reso ved that J en-
nie should also entertain the same ideas. But
Jack would have been very wroth, no doubt,
had any one hinted that he was playing a part;
that it was partly the reflected light of Annie’s
perfections that made him so esteem Fred.

The latter personage, then, was swiftly strid—
ing alon the faintly-defined trail, his thoughts
busy wit a momentous subject. He was pic-
turing the future as he would wish it to be; a
home, a wife—who, strangely enough, always
possessed Jennie’s face and form—agrowing
family of little ones—when suddenly he paused
ind bent his head in an attitude of acute atten-

ion.

He heard a shrill, pecaliar Whistle ring out
from only a few fiards before him, evidently in
the same trail. at what increased his surprise
was that an answer came, like an echo; this
time from some little distance to his right.

Frei knew that the country was in a troubled
state; he had closely watched the signs that r-
tended the coming of a storm that, shoul it
fall, would sweep all before it with resistless
fury. And now a premonition of coming peril
Wei bed upon his spirit like a revelation.

ithout pausing to reflect, he glided out from
the path and crouched down amid the dense un-
dergrowth. his ears strained to catch any
soundsnthat might either confirm or banish his
suspicions. At first he could hear nothing, but
then the low murmuring of human voices was
borne to his hearing upon the gentle night
breeze.

He knew that the speakers, whoever they

 

might he, were approaching, and in a few mo-
ments more Fred could distinguish the words,
which were spoken in the Sioux dialect. Thanks
to a border life and acquiring spirit, the young
settler was slightly conversant with the patois;
sufficiently so to follow the meaning of the
speakers.

The first words he caught, caused his heart to
throb wildly, and he crouched forward, fearing
almost to breathe, lest he should lose a sentence.

“ Then we are to strike the first blow to-night?”

“ Yes. Ink aduta gave the word and said
that Petit Cor eau told him so. He bade Long
Hair take his choice. He chose the people of the
lodge 1by the great stone. Dusky Dick chose the
one-—

Here the words became unintelligible to the
listener, the party having passed on by his place
of concealment.

Frcd arose ind glided stealthily after them.
He had no difficulty in recognizing the allusion
to “the people by the great stone.” He knew
that the Stevens family was meant, but be de-
sired to learn more, if possible.

The trail was dark and gloomy, owing to the
dense shade cast by thickly—growing trees, that
intercepted the’ moon's rays. But after a few
moments, Fred heard the Indians pause and seat
themselves at only a few yards from the trail.

1% glided nearer, until he could again hear ‘
The same person was speaking that '

their words.
he had heard before.

“ “79 will wait here for Long Hair. It will
not be long before he comes.”

“ Where is Bob-tailed Horse?” asked another
of the party.

“ Gone to the lodge by the great rock. He
will open the doors for us that we may strike
without being hurt. He is to pretend his leg is
hurt, so that he can not walk to his lodge and
will ask to rest there. Then when the wile-faced
fools sleep, he will open the doors and et us in."

“ Good! there are five scalps for us!”.exultant—
ly uttered one of the savages.

“ No—only four.
sqan must go to his lodge, or be will not help
us.

The other demurred a little at this, but he was
overruled by his comrades. Fred clutched his
rifle with fingers that itchcd to be at‘ the throats

of the plotting scoundrels; but be restrained him- , " 1

self, and then glided stealthin away, thus losing
information that would have still further in~
creased his anxiety, fora diabolical plan was
commented upon, concerning his own family.
But the young settler had heard enough to set
him half wild. He knew that the maiden whom
he loved, was in rent peril, and that thought,
for the time, rove all other considerations
away. »
He understood the allusion to One Eye, the In-
dian name of Sloan Young, the half-breed, whose

left eye had been destroyed in a drunken fl ht.

And he, too, was the Long Han-mentioned. t ed
knew that the villain had been pmwling around
the cabin quite frequently of ate, though the
thought of his daring to look upon Jennie in such
a lig t, never once Occurred to him, before this.

The one called Bob-tailed Horse. Fred also

knew by reputation, as being a reckless, unscru~ :

pulous rascal, drunken and worthless, unless in

\

/

One Eye says that the young -

 

 

é Dusky Dick’s ,Doofl. .

 

just swme such manner as the one hinted at. But
this plan he would foil, at all hazards.

So when once safely beyond ear—shot, Fred
arose and dashed through the forest with nimble
feet, but at using a degree of caution, for since
hearing t e revelations of the plotters, he knew
not Where or when he might encounter deadly
enemies.

In half an hour more, Wilson neared the cabin
belonging to Wesley Stevens, and when almost
at the_ door, he met John, who was just sallying
out to visit the Wilsons. Fred drew him aside
' ' and quickly detailed what he had overheard.

The young man Was greatly excited by these
tidings, but managed to control his feelings, in a
measure.

“ Are you sure you heard those words? May
there not be some mistake?” he asked, dubiously.

“ I only wish there was—but I know better.
Depend upon it, it is true. Is that Indian in the
house?”

“Bob-tail? Yes. He came in not long ago,
pretending to be lame, tired and hun y.”

“ You see! the very story I hear he was to
tell! The dirty im )1” muttered Fred, angrily,
while his blue eyes ashed ominously.

.“ What had we better do, anyhow?”

“First, I intend to settle with this devil: then
we must decide further. I think. though, it
would be best for the family to all 0 over to
our house, and then if it is deem best, we

r should try to reach the settlements below; we
can all go together. It is on our road, you
know, so there ’1] be no time lost." _ ‘

“I was just going over there—but If you—
that is—"’ and handsome John hesitated and

' blushed in a very suspicious manner.

“ I tell you what I think is best, John. You

know your futher must be told of it, and if you
I go to talking to him in secret, after having
> started away, Bob‘tail may suspect something.

It would look more natural if did it. Don’t

you think so?” and Fred felt an inward convic-

tion that he had presented his point very well.

“ Yes, I do think so. So if you’ll do that, I’ll
run on ahead and tell your folks what’s in the

.- wind. ; I’ll have them all ready by the time you
come. Don’t lose any time, though,” and then
the two young men parted.

Fred was greeted at the door by Wesley
Stevens. and bade enter, but he made an excuse
and drew the old man outside. In a few words
he revealed his discover , adding:

“Now I will get to to king wit-h Bobtail, and
then when I cough, do you take the fellow from
behind. Don’t be particular what you hit him
with, just so you don’t let him make much

1 noise.”

“ Very well—4’11 do my part,” and then
Stevens led the way into the house, where a rude
lump had been lighted by the blushing Jennie
as soon as she heard the voice of the young bor-
derer.

The greeting was cordial, but still somewhat
constrained between the young couple, for the
old folks were looking on, and they had not yet
progressed so far along love’s pot as to be un-
resarved.

Fred bent an inquiring look upon the dusky

jfl ure crouching near t e corner of the fire—
pl no, where yet glowed a small fire; the rem-

I

 

  

nant of that necessary to prepare theevening

meal. It was indeed “Bob-tailed Horse,” who 1

had consented to play such a vile part.

And he seemed pre—eminently fitted for such a
duty, too. Low, squat-built, he was clothed in
a dirty, agreasy and tattered pair of trowsers
and a c ico shirt, with bare feet and head.
His face was swollen and bloated with strong
drink; his eyes bleared and bloodshot, from the

same cause. On the whole, a. more disgusting :

specimen of the “noble Lol” could scarcely be
found, even among his own people; and that is
so. ing a good deal.

‘Howi” exclaimed Fred as he stood before
the savage, outstretchng a. hand.

The greeting was returned, and Bob—tail arose
to clasp the hand. Then Fred, as if accidental—
lIy, worked around until he was between the

ndian and his late position.

“Has ‘Bob-tailed Horse’ saw Petit Oarbeau
lately?” asked Wilson.

“ N o—lonrr time—so many suns,” and he rais-
ed both hands. “ Little Crow call In 'un drunk
fool,“ and a venomous glitter filled t e bleared
eyes of the sot.

“You don’t tell me so? Why he must have
been drunk to have said that. You don’t like
fire-water, do on?”

“ No—no li e—heap bad! Ugh!” brazenly
lied the rascal.

“ Docs In brother know where One Eye is?”
suddenly as ed Fred.

Bob-tail looked steadily at the young settler
for a moment, and then 510w1y shook his head.
Stevens drew nearer, whittling upon a heavy,
half-bent ox bow of hickory.

“ Let Bob~tailed Horse listen. I have a little
story to tell him," slowly returned Fred, as his
gaze met that of the Indian.

“A little bird told me that the Sioux were
getting mad at their white brothers. That Bob-
tailed Horse was one of them. That he had
sworn he would take the scalp of a white man
before another sun. Is this story true?”

The savage shifted his gaze and ‘lanced swift-
ly around the room. Stevens stil whittled on,
idly whistling; the women sat gazing upon the—-
to them—incomprehensible scene, with strange
emotion. Fred deliberately resumed:

“ This bird also told me that Bob-tailed Horse
would go to the cabin of a pale—face and ask for
lodging and food, pretending he was weary and
sick, so that he might open the door to One Eye
and Dusky Dick, and let them enter to kill the
whites without danger to themselves. Did the
little bird tell me true?"

The Indian stood motionless as if carved from
stone, save that one hand slow] glided up to»
ward his belt, where hung a kni e and hatchet.
Then Wilson coughed.

Stevens sprun forward with uplifted ox-bow,
and ere the fa. red-skin could stir a step, the
heavy club descended upon his head with crush—
ing force. He tottered feebly, and then fell for-
ward into Fred’s arms, who allowed the sense-
less form to fall to the floor.

Both women uttered a little cry of wondering
alarm at this sudden and unexpected move, but
than a gesture from Stevens checked all further
on crv.

“ Hush l” he cried, sternly; “ don t make any

 

   

   
  
 

 
  
   

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dusky Dick’s Doom. ‘ r ?

 

noise. for your lives! Shut the door, Jennie,
quick. There may be others of the devils prowl-
ing around. Fred’s story was a true one. This
carrion was a spy, who intended giving us up‘to
his friends to—night.”

Fred stooped over the stricken Indian, and
carefully examined the wound. He found that,
though senseless, the rascal still lived; his skull
had not been fractured, though the blow seemed
enou h to have killed an ox.

“ hat shall we do with him, Stevens?” he
asked, doubtfully.

“Dead men tell 'no tales!” sternly responded
the old settler, a deadly glitter in his black

eyes.
“ No—no, do not kill him, husband!” cried the
wife, springing forward, as he raised aloft the

_ blood-stained ox—bow.

“ It is him or us Mary.” but the uplifted arm
slowly sunk. “ 8 would have killed as all,
after eating our food!”

“ Tie him and put him down the pit,” sug—
gestedr'Jennie.

I“ It will do, Stevens,” said Wilson. “ They
Will find we suspect their lans, anyhow, when
they find we are gone. It would only make
them hotter after us, if we killed him.” '

“ You ma be right, Fred. but the dog is not
fit to live. Owever, have it our own Way.”

A strong cord was quick y produced, and
with it the rascal was bound hand and foot.
Then a gag was forced between his jaws; after
which a trap-door was lifted and the Indian cast
rudely down into a pit, where were stored a few
ve etables. .

‘ Now what next?” ‘

“You had better pack up such things as you
must have, and such as we can carry; come with
me to our house. John has told them all by this
time, and they will be ready for a move. I
don’t think we will be safe out here as long as
those two devils are at large, with their gang.”

“ But we must take the horses.”

“ No—~I think best not. The rascals are some-
where between here and our house, and they
would be sure to hear the sound of hoof-strokes,
while on foot we can pass them without being
noticed. If we think best. we can then take
horses from our house. I don’t think it would
be safe now.”

After some little demurring on the part of
Stevens, who did not relish leaving his valuable
stock, this plan was adopted.

In a. very few minutes, the little party of four
were laden with food and weapons, and then
emerging from the cabin, they set out upon their
perilous Journey.

CHAPTER III.
nnsxr Dion’s rmsr BLOW.

JOHN STEVENS felt not a little concern as he
strode along the grass-grown trail that Fred
Wilson had so lately traversed. The discovery
made by the latter was truly a momentous one,
and if true, the danger im riding was one that
would require all their 5 ill and courage to
avert. ,.

He thought of the gentle Annie being exposed
to all the horrors of an Indian attack, and wild
vismns of during deeds and heroic struggles in

 

 

her behalf flashed across his mind. He felt
that he could accomplish all these, for her sake.

And, in good truth these fancies possessed his
mind so greatly that he forgot a greater portion
of necessary prudence, striding along as if in the
utmost security, as though fully assured that
there was not an enemy within a hundred miles
of his present location. But he was speedily
awakened from hi: abstraction.

A dark form suddenly sprung out before him,
with leveled rifle-muzzle threatening him. As
his eyes fell upon the intruder, John fancied he
reco nized the figure.

“ s that you, Duskyl Dick?” he called out,
halting and half-raising is rifle.

“Keep your gun down—don’t offer to shoot,
or I’ll plug ye! Yes. it’s me. But who the devil
are you?” returned the man.

“ Stevens—John Stevens, you know,” laughed
the ,young settler. “ Why, who’d you take me

or? '

“Fer a Injun. They’re ’round at their tricks,
I b’licve. But whar are you goin’?"

“ Over to Wilson’s—why?”

“011, nothinl—I didn’t know. Folksall well
at home?”

“ Yes, all well: that is, all of our own. But
there is a lame Indian there, who hurt himself
somehow, while out hunting, I believe. You
know him—Bobtailed Horse?” added John, the
better to allay any suspicious the other might
have entertained.

“ Yes: a drunken dog. Mind out or he’ll sarve
you some dirt trick, yet. Wal, if you’re goin'
to \Vilson‘s, won’t hinder you no more. Jest
give them my respects, will you?” and Dusky
Dick stepped to one side of the ath.

But. as he did so, John no an evil glitter in
his eyes as the moonlight fell upon the renegade’s
countenance, through a rift in the tree-tops.
Sitevfens realized that Dusky Dick meant mis-
c ie .

“ All right—I’ll tell ’em," and the young set-
tler strode lightly past the man.

He saw the heavy rifle of the desperado raise
and sweep through the air, wielded by strong
arms, evident] aimed at his head. But Stevens
ducked udroit y, and the weapon, hissed harm-
lessly above his head, the force of the unresisted
blow swinging Dusky Dick around almost
against him. ‘ . .

With an angry cry, Stevens whirled his rifle
around, its iron barrel alighting full 11 n the
traitor’s head, felling him to the groun like a
dead man. But still a little cry broke from his

xps.

Instantly all around was confusion, and the
young settler shuddered involuntarily, at the
terrible commotion he had aroused. ild yells
filled the air until it sounded as though scores of
devils had broken loose upon earth, all thirstmg
for human blood.

Stevens knew his danger, and realized the full:

extent of his peril—that he had fal intoan

ambush of red—skins of whom Dusky' ick was;

either a member, or else a chief. And he knew
too that he would be put to his best, if bees-
caned the threatened capture.

He had not alone to think of himself; either.
The fate of more than one probabl depended

upon the speedy accomplishment.“ is errand.

/

    

' 8

Dusky Dick’s Doom.

 

He must warn the Wilson family of their dan-

gar.

Uttering a low cry, John crouched down,
and summoning all his powers, sgrung with
headlong force along the path, that e could see
now contained one or more of his enemies. But
it was the only road for him now.

He lea forcibzy against the foremost In—
dian, hur ing him breathless to the ground, with—
out receiving any particular harm himself. But
there another confronted him, with uplifted
hatchet gleaming in the moonlight, only a few

~ feet distant.

John lowered his rifle and sprung forward, at
the same time thrusting out forcibly with his
weapon. The rifle-muzzle took the red-skin full
in the pit of his stomach, doubling him up like a
jack—knife, and causing him to emit a fearful
grunt; but at the same time he clutched the
rifle~barrel and held it with a firm gri . This,
added to the impetus of his rush, cause Stevens
to stumble headlong, and ere he could recover
himself, several red—skins were upon him.

Literally so in this case, and the young settler
was borne struggling to the ground, almost
smothered by the weight of the yelling red—
skins. And then their weapons flashed out and
were uplifted to drink his heart’s blood.

It seemed as if the young man’s fate was irre-
trievably sealed, and his e es closed as a faint
prayer rose to his lips. ut his time was not

yet.

Dusky Dick recovered his feet and sprung
forward, his ,head dizzy and confused by the
blow he had received. But he knew enough to
see the peril of the young settler, and—for a
purpose of his own~resolved to avert it, for the

present.

“Hold! don’t strike!” he commanded, in the
Sioux dialect. “You must not kill him yet.”

It is not likely that his words would have had
the desired effect, had he not beaten the weapons
aside with his rifle-barrel, and fairly hurled one
or two of the savages aside.

Dusky Dick fiercely declared that the man
who lifted a hand against Stevens, unless by his
express orders, should die the death of a dog.
This threat, when uttered by one possessing the
renegade’s resolution, sufliced; and then by his
orders, the oung settler was firmly bound.

Dusky Dick drew aside with several of the

rincipal braves and consulted earnestly for a
ew moments; then he returned, and Stevens
was lifted erect. Two savages held him firmly,
while another loosened the bonds "that confined
his feet, so that he could walk, but not run.

“ What do you intend doing, Dusky Dick?” he
demanded, in a tone as calm as he could make
it, while such an y passions stru led with-
in hi?" breast; “ w at do you mean y this out-
ra .

I told you the Injuns was on the war-path.
N ow you know it, don’t ye?" chuckled the rene-
gade, triumphantly.

“ What’re you going to do with me ?” persist-
ed John. ‘

“Keep you prisoner for awhile- then burn
you, maybe. You must ask Sloan Young. You
are his game.”

John saw the uselessness of further speech,
and remained silent. ,He realized that he was in

3:»,

 

a truly rilous situation and though heir-“:-
some on ural uneasiness or himself, by far the
greater share of his anxiety was for the peril
that threatened Annie.

If Dusky Dick would act thus toward him,
might he not do the same with others? Stevens
shuddered convulsiver as he realized the peril
that threatened the family of his loved one, who
were, as he believed, totally unsuspicious of the
outbreak.

And then his fears were confirmed by the
direction taken by his captors, they heading
directly toward the point where the Wilson
cabin was located. As if to ut the matter on-
tirely beyond doubt, Dusky ick, after a few
instructions to the leading red-skin, fell back to
a position just in front of Stevens—the entire
party proceeding in Indian file, as the narrow
trail would not admit two abreast—and taunt-
ingly uttered:

“ As you said you was goin’ on to Wilson’s, I
thought I’d give you a escort, like. Don’t you
feel highly honored? You hed ought, anyhow,”
and he chuckled grimly.

“You are not—” faltered John, his blood
chilling at the significant tone (of the rene—

gade.

“ Ain’t I? but I am, too. Thou ht you’d be
lonely, a captyve by yourself, so we ve concluded
to give you comp’ny. But don’t count on too
much. Annie’s for me I” ~

John uttered a hoarse growl of anger, and
would have sprung upon is tormentor, bound
though his hands were, had not the guard be-
hind him divined his intentions and drew him
forcibly back. This showed Stevens the'folly
of allowin his passions to get the better of him,
and so he ept silence, while Dusky Dick malig-
nantl resumed:

“ as, Annie’s mine. That's settled,yfor ood.
She’ll make a nice squaw—don't on thin so?
Anyhow, I’m oin’ to risk it. ut t’others—
well, they’ll pro ’ly git jest the same as you will
-—’ither knocked on the head decently, or else
used fer a bonfire.

“But you don’t talk. Deaf, ain’t ye? Or be
you thinkin’ o’ the folks at home? Need it, they
do. You said Bob-tailed Horse was there,
didn’t you? Well, he was sent more and,
What’s more, he was sent thnr by Sloan Y‘oun ,
and he ain’t hurt no more’n you be, not ahitl e
was sent thar to o n the door at the right time,
so ’t the reds coul walk in quietl . It’s nearly
time for the b10w, too, as your to ks go to bed
airl . I wonder how they’ll feel by mornin’ l"
An Dusky Dick laelighed ferociously.

Stevens shudder , but did not reply. He
knew that Bob-tailed Horse would scarcely
admit his red brethren, but then there was
other danger. He knew that Fred would try
and persuade the family to hasten over to his
house, and he—J ohn—had had evidence that the
trail was thickly beset by dangers. . ‘

Besides the band that held him a captive, Ste-
vens had heard enough to know that Sloan
Young was also lying near at hand, only await-
ing the proper time to spring his trap upon the
“people of the great rock.” Might not Fred
also stumble upon one of these parties?

Dusky Dick was not a little rovoked at the
ill-success of his taunting boat’s, but soon de«

  

 

 
 

 

 
  
   
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

. . ...-.... gems“ oi

 

 

 Dick's Doom. 9

 

risk/ed, and once more made his way to the front,
as the party were now rapidly nearing the cabin
( 1’ Edward _Wilson.

John was not idle, however. He resolved to
escape, if it lay in human power, as he felt that
in remain ca tive was equivalent to death, more
or loss speer y; and he might et be able to
accomplish something. If too ate to save the
Wilson family, he might be of use to his own
people.

He worked assiduously upon the bonds that
confined his hands. They were of tanned buck-
skin, and defied his utmost efforts to break
them.

The knots a peared to be tied securely, and
would neither 5 ip nor come untied. It seede
as though his hopes were doomed to be frus-
trated by this one fact. And yet he did not give
way to despair or cease his efforts, only keeping
them concealed—as he was enabled to do by the
darkness beneath the trees-from the red—skins
before and behind him.

Now the little part stood upon the verge of
the clearing surroun ing the cabin of Edward

ilson, and peered curiously out upon it. An
Indian grasped John firmly by the neck, and
rested one hand upon his lips, evidently resolved
that he should give no alarm.

All was quiet around the dwelling. There
was no light within the building, and it seemed
as though the inmates had retired to rest, with
their usual feeling of security. Dusky Dick
uttered a fiendish laugh.

“ You see,” he muttered in John’s ear, “Iyour
friends don’t expect visitors to-night. , ‘hey
will be agreeably surprised—I guess not-when
we wake them up. But, still, it may be a trap,
and you must guard us from it. Now I am
goin’ to make you walk jest afore me, and, mind
you, I have a long knife—long enough, anyhow,
to reach your heart—ready for use at the slight-
est sound from your lips. And I will use it,
tfio, itfiyou give a single word or sign to alarm
t em.

In a few words Dusky Dick made known his
plans to his followers, and they expressed ap—
Broval of it. John was brought to the front and

usky Dick crouched behind him. Then the

‘ others strung out in a row, so that any shot

from the house would miss them all, unless first
striking the young settler.

“ Now, step out, young teller," muttered
Dusky Dick, pricking Stevens slightly with the
point of his bared knife, “and remember that if
you rouse them u , their first shot must take
you. Pleasant, ain t it?” And he again gave
vent to a fiendish laugh.

John dared not remonstrate, and obeyed the
impulse given him by the renegade, slowly ad-
vancing toward the log-cabin. Nearly two hun-
dred yards of clearing had to be traversed, and
as may be imagined, it was a trying ordeal for
the young man’s nerves, who knew not at what
moment a shot from his friends might sound his
death-knell.

But in this he was agreeably disappointed, for
the side of the cabin was gained in safety. Not
a sound broke the stillness that filled the clear-
ing, save the usual hum and chirping of the
summer inswts.

Dusky Dick advanced to the door and gently

 

rapped with his knuckles. No answer; only
the echo of the knock replied. Again and again
he repeated it, with the same result.

A glad hope Isin-nu up in the heart ot-the
young settler. e be ieved that the family had
taken alarm and sought safety in flight. -

The same idea struck Dusky Dick, and he
thumped loudly upon the door. Then with a
wild, angry cry be rushed forcibly against it.
Still no answering sound broke the silence.

“ The birds have flown!” uttered a savage, in
a tone of disgust.

“Break down the door and let’s see,” cried,
Dusky Dick, with a bitter oath.

A simultaneous rush of several sturdy forms,
broke down the fastenings of the door, and then
Dusky Dick rushed into the house. He could
hear no signs of its being occupied, and then
hastily struck alight. As the lure filled the
room, an angry roar broke from is lips.

The floor was strewn with various articles,
whose disorder told of great haste: that told the
renegade his anticipated victims had indeed
taken the alarm and had fled from the impend-
ing peril. Now he bitterly cursed his folly in
leaving the building unguarded, after his vain
attempt at compromise.

“ Grit torches and hunt fer sign,” he cried, as
be stirred up the embers that still glowed in the
huge fireplace. “They can’t have gone far
in this little time. Quick! we will find them

etl
y In a few moments a number of the Indians
had secured torches, and were searching the
ground without for some trace to tell them the '
direction taken b the fugitives. Meanwhile
Dusky Dick had astin searched through the
building, and confirmed this belief. They were
indeed gone.

 

CHAPTER IV.
A TERRIBLE sugralsa. '

Toma: CASTOR sat d0wn to' the table and with-
out ceremony began What he would have termed
a “square meal,’ eating as thoughhis whimsical
assertion was true—that he had not eaten a bite
for two weeks.

Edward Wilson conversed earnestly with his
wife and daughter, telling the tidings im arted
by their friend, the old hunter. He ask their
advice, for, like a sensible man, he did’not think
it derogatory to his manhood, to consult one of
the “ weaker sex.”

“What does Tobe say?” asked Mrs. Wilson.

“ He says thet you bed better jest git up an’
git, while you kin,” replied that worthy, as emé“
phatically as the crowded state of his mouth
would admit. “ They’ve got a dead 0 en, ah’ ’
shot on ye. ’3 Ion ’s you stay h ar. Dus y Dick
wouldn’t ’8) sho off his mout that-a—way, un—
less be had some one ni h to back him up. An"
I know the pesky imps ez riz, down furder; an’
it stands to reason that it’ll spread up this-a—way,
whar thar’s a few skelps to be got, ’thout much
resk. So I say—mosey I"

“ But where—which way? If, as on say, the
Indians have broken out below us, t ey must be
between here and the settlements—at least such
as are strong enough to ofler any hope of

safe . .
“fist so, Ed; but see. The Ion er you wait
3 , I ,

r

 

\

10 ' Dusky Dick’s Doom.

 

the wusser it’ll be. An’ it’ll keep a~spreadin’,
natur’ly, up this-a-way. Ef you start now, you
stands chaince o’ gittin’4hrough. Ef you wait
ontil to-morrer—providin’ Dusky Dick don’t put
in his oar, afore—it’ll be wuss, a heap. Do -on
it! You must start to-nightl” earnestly o. ded
Castor.

h “ gut Fred—he is not here, and we can’t leave

lm.

“No more shall you. My plan’s this. Sa
we get out 0’ here, an’ afterwards Dusky Dic

ives the cabin a call, an’ finds us gone. YVon’t

e natur’ly s‘pose you’ve struck out for the set-
tlements? An’ won’t he look fer us in that di-
rection? In course he will. So much fer so
much. then.

“ We’ll take the bosses an’ start in that d’rec-

‘ tion fu’st. Fer it’s more'n likely they’ll hunt fer
our trail by torchlight, ontil t ey set the pint
we head torst. Then they’ll set of]? to run us

' down. . So we must go fur enough on critter—
back to fool ’em, thet way. Then we’ll turn
’round an’ strike back in a crooked route, torst
the Stevens shanty, find Fred, tell our yarn, an’

take the hull caboodle with us. .

“We kin take a turn ag’in. an’ then by hard
ridin’, make u fer lost time. Ef we‘re ahead

0’ those imps y day, then we’re all right fer
hem. We must take the chances ’bout t others.
ButI think we kin work it. Thar—that’s my
plan; what (1’ you think 0’ it, an how?” de—
manded Castor, arising from the tab e.

The party were silent. They could see no

> othervwa , and yet this one seemed full of

danger. hut indeed, if the rising of the Indians

in insurrection was a fact, which way could
the turn without incurring danger?

this plan was finally acquiesced to, and

the work of w aration for flight commenced.

Castor and i * n set about saddling the

‘ horses, while the women packed food and extra
clothing, with such little articles of value that
they could not bringr themselves to abandon, in
small and compact bundles.

They worked as if for dear life, and buta
few minutes were consumed ere all was pro-
nounced ready for a start. Castor had taken a
a hurried scout along the route .they proposed to
follow, and discovered nothing suspicious.

There were only four horses, but Tobe scorn-
«fully declared that he would ride none of them;
that he never yet met the four—footed animal
that he could not Wear out, on foot. But he
advised them to take the extra one along for

‘ Fred’s use.

Then after a few words of caution, he led the

. way from the clearing, and they entered the
gloomy forest, leaving the home that had
' sheltered them for two years, with sensations of
choking regret.

‘ ‘ The trail was narrow and winding, and fre-
\ guently the riders were forced to stoop low
. , own in their saddles, to avoid the pendent
boughs, but to offset this, they had the advan-
tage of knowing the route thoroughly, from so
often traversing it. Tobe Caz-tor led the way
with lon , sw nging strides, :hat forced the
horses to ir best walking, to avoid being dis-
tanced. -

“ We've gone fur a plenty,” said Tobe, when
pearly a haltémile had been traversed, “We

~‘./.‘ “ ' \

 

must strike fer the other shanty now, or we
mou ht miss Fred. Take keer fer your heads

novx, as thar hain’t any trail the way we mus
0.

“Ain’t on afraid of losing the way, Tobe?
It’s so dar ,” muttered Wilson.

“ Nary time I ain’t. Lose nothin‘l Me? Git
out! Wasn’tIraised in the woods? Couldn't
I smell my way, even ef I was blinded? In
course I kin. Don’t be skeered 7bout thet. Ned
I’ll take you as straight thar as a drunken
Injun’s trail—fer you know we’ve got to o
mighty crooked through the dark, on this bres .
Now keep cluss together and don’t make no
n’ise. Don’t holler out. even ef the limbs saws
your heads off. ’Tain't nothin’—a’ter you git
used to it.”

The guide hurried abruptly to his left. and
strode rapidly along, holdin onto the bridle of
the horse ridden 63’ Mrs. ilson. After her
came Annie, with ilson bringing up the rear,
leading the s are horse. ’

Owin , to t e darkness, considerable noise was
unavoi ably made, but as the soon ineda

)int at a fair distance from t e tra' , Castor

elieved there was but little danger of being
overhead.

Thus he pressed on through the woods at a
good pace, for now time was recxous. A long
road lay before them, and un ess a certain dis
tance could be gained before day—dawn, he be-
lieved their chances of ultimate escape would be
faint indeed. ,

The riders found that his warning was well
founded, for more than once they were almost
brushed from their saddles, by the low-hanging
houghs, and only by] ing almost flat along
their horses’ necks, coul they proceed with any
degree of safety.

For several miles the fugitives proceeded in

this manner, which was inexpressibly weari- .

some, and more than once had Wilson ur ed
Castor to seek the trail leading direct to the on in
of Wesley Stevens. But the guide refused, as it
would be incurring foolish risk. The unbroken
woods Were far safer in his estimation.

But their journey was not to be completed
without interruption, and one soon came that
threatened serious consequences. It occurred in
this manner.

As they were proceedin at a fair gait, a
bri ht flash spouted forth grow one side of tho
litt e arty, at only a few yards’ distance, and
ming ed with the sharp report came the spiteful
hum of a rag ed bullet as it hurtled close to the
head of Mrs. ilson. Then a loud, fierce yell
broke upon their hearing. \

The horses were bad y frightened by these
sudden and Line cted sounds, and broke loose
from all control, 'ldly plunging on throu h the
woods. And the voice of Castor was hear , cry-

ing: .
“Keep together, an' let the animiles went!
Foller me l”

Fleet-footed as a deer, he rung forward and

clutched the bridle-rein that ad been wrenched .

from his grasp; then ran beside the horse, now
leading the way. Occasionally he would raise
his voice—knowin that, if they were indeed
followed, this coul not add to their peril, as the
loud crashing made by the aflrighted animals

    
  
 

..\

 

  

   

 

  

 



 

 

Dusky Dick’s Doom. ' . 11

 

could be heard further than his cries—and it was
essential that none of the party should become
so rated from the others.
or nearly a mile this headlong race was

maintained, and then Castor suddenly checked
the horse he was guiding. He could hear noth-
ing of any pursuer, and had resolved that now,
if ever, was the time to throw any such off the
scent.

“ s it all right, Ed?” he anxiously cried, ap-
proachin l‘l’ilson.

Is Mary hurt?”

“ Yes, believe so.

. But Annie—where is she?”
re lied Mrs. Wilson, breathlessly.

‘ Here; 1 caught her horse as it ran past. Are
you hurt, Annie?”

There came no answer, and Wilson repeated
the inquiry, in wondering alarm. Tobe Castor
iprung forward with a cry, and stood beside the

orse.

It was dark.“ and gloomy there, in the forest
depths, where the thickly—crested tree-tops effec—
tually prevented the moon’s rays from falling
on the earth, and nothing could be seen. The
sense of feeling must be depended upon merely.

Castor reached out and touched the snorting
horse. It trembled like a leaf. He called aloud
on Annie’s name, but she did not answer.

His hands fell upon the saddle. It was empty
--Amn'e was gone I

The old scout uttered a low cry and staggered
back. The blow was a fearful one, and he felt
it as though the lost one had been his own child.

“My God! Cantor, whatis it?” gasped Wilson,
alarmed at the tone of the hunter, and bending
forward in the saddle as though he would pierce
the dense obscurity with his distended eyeballs.

“ 'l‘bevgal is gone 1”

Mrs. ilson uttered a low. gasping groan, and
reeled in her seat. Tobe sprung forward and
caught her sinking form, lowering her gently to
the round. In a moment Wilson was beside
her, alf distracted by the terrible events that
pressed so closely upon them.”

“ Give her a'su 0’ this,” gloomin said Castor,
producing a smal flask of whisky. “ ’Tain’t no
time for faintin’ now. We’ve got our hands full
’thout that.”

“ What must we—what can we do?” cried the
father, chokingly, as he strove to revive the
fainting woman.

“Work—work like blazes. No use goin’ furder
ontil we find “thet gal; ef it kin he did. Ef— it
must he did! Thunder) I’ll find her of I hev to
take an‘ ri the hull teetotal kentry through my
old hat! ’f don’t, now,” and Castor spoke
with stron emphasis.

Mrs. W1 son now gave signs of returning
consciousness. Strong-nerved, she was not one
to (yield long to any misfortune, however heavy
an bitter it might be.

“Now, Ed.” added Tobe, thoughtfully, “this
is what we must do. You may stay here with
her an’ the bosses ’oa’se we may need them More
long. I’ll go back 'Iong the trail as we kem by,
an’ look for the gaL She must ’a‘ bin knocked
ofl by some pesky limb, an’ won't hev gone fur.

,I’ll find her, never fear.”

“But the Indians—those who fired at us?

They may have found her,” {altered Wilson.

“"Taiu t likely, fer I didn’t he” thar yell as

 

they’d ’a’ give ef they bed. I don’t think they’d
notice her tumble a-Lall. An’ then ag’in, I don't-
think thar was more’n one or two, or they'd ’a’
follered us closter. Most likely jest a stray,
proyvlin’ critter. who run jest as soon’s he shot at
us.

“I hope so—but why can’t we all go?”

“Don’t be a fool, now, Ed, don’t. ' S’posin’
thur was a wheen 0’ reds nigh, wouldn’t we look
nice a-blunderin’ right s ang into ’em? They’d
hear us a—coniin’, an’ t on lay fer us. Then
whar’d we be? No, sir. Whatever’s did I must
do alone by myself. You must sta here to keep
her comp’ny—onless, indeed, you so right on
to the shanty for Fred. Which is it?’ _

I“ No, we must not leave Annie—Fred is a
man, and better able to take care of himself.
We will wait here.”

“All right, then. But fu’st, wait ontil I find
a better place fer ye to lay low in than this,”
and Castor started awe. from the spot. '

“Is Annie gone, E ward?” murmured Mrs.
Wilson, feebly.

“ Yes—but Tobe says he can find her. She is
safe, I believe, but was brushed off the horse’s
back. He will find her, never fear.”

“ Here ye be, folks,” muttered the old hunter,
as he returned. “Kin you walk a leetle, Mary?”

“Yes, I can; I think.” v ‘

“ Holp her, Ed, While I take the animilc’s.
Foller me.”

In a few moments the refuge was gained; a
Sort of natural bower, Where, even by the light,
of day, a casual observer would scarcely have
noticed their presence, and in the darkness, un—
less some noise should betray them, an entire
tribe of red-skins might have passed within
arm’s-length of the covert, without suspecting
their presence.

“ You stay here an’ keep still. Don’t move or
speak ’bove a cat’s whisper, ontil I come back.
I‘ll give the call 0’ the night-hawk twicet. You v
know it, Ed?”

“Yes, but be—”

Tobe did not wait to hear the conclusion o£
this sentence, but turned and glided away. His
mind was far from being at ease, although he
had endeavored to cheer up the fugitives with a
confidence he was far from possessing, as he .
knew that it was no time for despondency.

He knew that Annie had most like] been
knocked from the saddle by a limb, and t at she
might have received such injuries as prevented
her cryin out. And then again she might have
suddenly en pounced upon by the one who had
fired the treacherous shot. and taken prisoner
before she could give the alarm. ‘

If hurt, the chances were against his finding
her, in the darkness, and to av sit the, light of
day would be perilous in the extreme, now that
the vicinity of deadly enemies was put beyond a. .
doubt. Still he did not entirely despair; it was
not his nature to do so, while breath '.remnined.

Tobe glided along cautiously, seeming to avoid
collision with the thickly-growing tree-trunks .
and bushes by instinct, keeping as near as he
could tell. in the track of their wild fli ht. His
hearing was keenly alert, and he looke for some
signs or sounds to tell him whether the hidden
horseman had followed ihrw or not.

But he reached a porno near where the alarm

 

13 i

Dusky Dick’s Doom.

 
 

 

had been given the horses, without seeing or
hearing alight to confirm either his suspicious or
Images. Then he paused to listen more intently.
is lips compressed tightly and one hand
sought the haft of his ready knife. as he heard
the sound of faint footfalls, apparently ap-
proaching him. Still he did not speak or move,
not knowing whether friend or foe advanced.

The steps sounded more and more distinct,
until Tobe felt assured that the comer was not
the girl he sought; the tread was too regular and
deliberate for that of a frightened wanderer.
Then who could it be but a foe?

A dark form appeared outlined a ainst the
less opaque atmosphere, within a few eet of the
crouching scout. With knife drawn, Castor
reached out, and finding a small twig, snapped
it with a sharp noise.

A low oruttural exclamation came from the
figure, and it started back as if in alarm. That
satisfied Castor, who sprung forward with a low
how! of anger.

His arms closed around a brawny form. but a
quick motion rendered the knifevstroke futile,
and then they fell to the ground together, bat-
tling fiercely for the mastery. Their arms were
twined around each other, so that their knives
were of little use.

It was now a struggie for life or death!

CHAPTER V.
THE BURNING CABIN.

ADIM, shadowy, phantom—like chain flitting
silently through the forest depths. A living
chain, composel of human beings~at least in
outward senblance—bent upon an errand of
bloodshed and death.

They (pause at the edge of a considerable clear—
ing, an gaze out upon it.. A rude low cabin

’ stands here at the foot of a good-sized dill. In
the darkness, it seems as though there were two
buildings, but one is a huge square bowlder. A
mass of rock that has pulzled many to tell where
it came tron. It gives a name to the cabin and
its owners, “the people of ‘the lodge by the
great rock. ” ,

The cabin is the one where we met the Stevens
family. Too hu'nan chain is led by One Eye—

‘ Sloan Young. the half-breed heretofore alluded
to. He and his comrades have come here to per-
‘form their part of the bloody plan, to further
which the Indian, Bob~tailod Horse, had been
sent to gain admittance intothe cabin. ‘

“ It is newly time," muttered One Eye, in the

 

‘ ' . Sioux dialect.

“ Yes. the pale-faces are asleep before now,”
‘addel one of the Indians.

“ We will not wait any longer. Come, let us
go,” and One Eye entered the clearing and

lidei stealthily toward the cabin that stood si-
ent and 2100 nv in the shadow of the hill.

The halflbreel paused when beside the rude
structure and uttered a c111; one common to
that place and time of year—the cry of the
night-hawk. Then he stepped forward an
pressed gentlv against the door. ‘

To his surprise it did not yield. He again ut-
tered the signal, upon which the traitor was to
throw wide the door, but still without the de-
sired result.

“ The tool has drank firewateu- until his brain .

 

is asleep! He has forgotten his du "angril
hissed the half—breed. W, y

“It is growing late and our weapons are
hungry for white blood. Let us break open
the lodge. They can do nothing,” muttered
the Indian who had spoken before, who was
evidently of higher rank than the others who
stood silently behind him.

“We can do it. One rush will overpower
them. But remember—the young squaw must
not be harmed. She is mine," earnestly added
Young.

“It is well. One Eye shall have her,” and
then the chief spoke a few words to his follow-

ers, who drew together and made a heavy rush,

against the door.
It flew open so suddenly that one-half their

number fell in a. sprawling heap upon the floor,»

half-way across the room. Then with wild
yells and cries Young and the chief sprung over
their forms, and glared around for their antici-
pated victims.

But where were they? Why did not their
cries of wild alarm and terror break forth iime
the air? Surely there had been noise enough
guide to awaken them from the soundest slum—

er!

Raging furiously, Young rushed into the
second room, but silence met him there, as well.
He could no longer doubt the truth. ‘

“A light—quick!” he snarled fiercely, in his
rage speaking in English. “ They cain’t all hev
gone. 0115595 on that drunken fool!”

A light was speedily struck, and ap lied to a
heap of clothing that lay upon the, oor. As
the blaze shot up, the interior of the cabin was
rendered visible. Here, as at Wilson’s the dis-
ordered furniture and various articles strewn
about the floor, told of a hasty and recent flight.

The half-breed quickly ran through the rooms,
and found nothing there to wreak his fury upon.-
The loft, likewise, was empty. His anger and
disappointment were fearful.

Led by him the Indians procured lights and
ran outside to find. if possible, some trace of
the fugi ives. While some searched for a trail,
others sought among the brush and hollows
along the hillside, in the faint hope that the
fugitives had sought shelter there.

A faint ruddy glow now appeared upon the
sky in the sout east, growing,r momentarily
more vivid and clear. One of the Indians

pomted it out to Sloan Young, who replied j I

with a diabolical grin:

“It is the work of Dusky Dick. He has had
better fortune then we.”

Then as if this had reminded him of it, the
renegade ran to the building and stirred up
the dying fire, piling on clothes, bed-ticks furni-
ture and every thing movable, that would burn.
Then he retreated once more, uttering a fiendish
yell of delight. .

Soon the flames burst through the open door-
way. roaring and crackling as though in high
glee at thus being turne loose to work its
will. A torch was applied to the straw-thatched
stables, and then as the afi’righted stock ran
lowing or neighing around their oorrals, the

dusky demons shot them down, uttering wild .

yells of diabolical exultation.

I But the half—breed and his chief glided around, ,

\

 

 

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Dinky Dick’s Doom. 1 18

 

striving to decipher the meaning of the many
tracks that covered the ground. They were
moving toward the forest, where their own
party had not so defaced the ground with their
tramplin toand fro, when an unexpected sound
startled t em.

It was a cry, long and unearthly, seeming
like, yet unlike a human voice. But if indeed
one, than it must proceed from some person
either in agonizing pain or mortal terror.

Again and again it came to their ears, with
increasing distinctness, and even more startling
than at first. And the dusky crowd glanced at
each other in mute alarm.

The chief was scarcely less impressed, but
Sloan Young did not exhibit the same symptoms.
His face was eagerly turned toward the blazing
cabin, through whose roof the flames were now
ascendin . Then as another yell broke upon his
hearingfiie said:

“It is from the lodge! The pale-faces have
hidden beneath it, and are being roasted alive J”

The terror of the savages uickly gave place
to emotions of anger, at thins ing cheated out
of the coveted scalps. The heat was now too
intense for them to accomplish anything in the
waly of releasing the sufferers.

hen they started back with cries of wonder-
ing dismay. A shrill shriek of fearful torture
rung out, and then a figure sprung from the
fiery furnace and darted toward them; its arms
flung wildly aloft. its garmentsfidropped in char-
red fragments from its limbs.

Then with another long-drawn cry it sunk
to the ground, almost at the feet of Sloan
Youn . The half-breed bent over it, but
shrun back at the horrible stench of burning
flesh that arose from the Still he had
recognized the unfortunate, burned and disfig-
ured though it was.

“ It is Bob-tailed Horse!” he exclaimed, turn-
ing to the chief. '

And such was the case. He had been cast
down the pit bound and ga ed, as detailed, but
soon recovered his senses. iere he lay until he
heard the an voices of his confederates
above him, an heard himself blamed for the
disappointment.

He strove to cry out. but the gag had been
firmly applied and his limbs were useless.
In striving to free himself, he rolled over upon
his face.

Zhen he heard the ominous crackling above
hi , and the pungent smoke that sqan came to
his nostrils told him of a new and fearful

ril. And yet he was helpless to avert it. His

onds would not give, nor could he utter even a
groan.

The heat increased, until the sweat streamed
from every pore. The air became so close and
hot that be nearly suffocated.

His prison became li hter, and he knew that
the floor was being urned through. And
still he struggled to biu'st his bonds—strove in
vain. The s in cracked and shriveled up be-

neuth the intense heat, and his tortures were
excruciating.
The floor above him was one mass of coals.
Then Cinders fell upon his bare neck, hot and
lowing. He shook his head, but the coals ad-
ered to the hissing flesh.

 

Another and ,pnotber fell, until his body was
literally covered with the blazing sparks.
Either the cords had been weakened by fire, or
else the torturing coals had given Bob-tailed
Horse a fictitious strength. for With one mi my
effort be burst them asunderwand snatcdug
the gag from his mouth, uttered a wild cry f 01'

he] .

fFe sprung upward, and caught at one of the
glowing sleepers. It broke beneath his weight,
and he fell back. covered with the hotly-blazing
debris. Again he sprung to his feet and essayed
to gain the level floor; and again he fell back,
screeching—dying. '

More of the floor crumbled away, and then he '
sprung upon the edge of the narrow pit. With
yet another cry, he fell forward upon his face in
the glowing mass of coals.

He tottered to his feet and rushed blindly for-
ward, sinking nearly knee-deep in the burning
embers. He ran against the still standing logs
and staggered back; his eyesight was gone.

But he did not fall, and sprung ahead once
more. This time he emerged from the door—
way, and then with a gasping yell he fell to the
ground. ,

And yet, after all this torture, he still lived.

He knew he was among friends, and cried out
for u ater. More from his gestures than aught
else he was understood, and Your g hastened to
supply his wants. Not from motives of pity,
but because he hoped to gain some valuable in-
formation from the dying wretch.

The spring was c105e by, and a hatful of cold
water was brought the scarred and mangled
snfl’erer. He drank it down eagerly and begged
piteously for more, _ ‘

“Tell me first,” said One Eye, in the Sioux
dialect, “ where are the pnlefaces?”

“ Gone—water—water!” gasped the wretch.

“ Where?” stenin cried Young. ” Tell me
all, or you shall perish for want of a drop
of water. Tell me, and you shall have all you
wish.”

“ Gone to—over there,” was the husky reply.

“ To Wilson’s?” asked Young, in English.

“ Yes-young brave. tell ’um—they go—run
’wa.y-—”

One Eye sprung to his feet with apeculiar cry.
He had learned all he wished.

“ water—water!” gasped the sufferer, but his
plea as unheeded.

He couldybe of no further servicetothem. He
might die a dog’s death, as he had lived a dog’s
life. \Vhat cared they?

“ Comb—there is no time to lose. We must
hasten or they will escape us yet. Follow me,
and their son ps shall hung at our girdles hate: 6 ;
another sun I” yelled One Eye, as he dashed away
from the burning cabin, closely followed by the
savages, leaving the dying wretch as he lay to
gasp out his feeble remnant of life in firm ess
appeals for water!

CHAPTER VI.
AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR.

ls Dusky Dick turned from the loft, after his
fruitless search, aloud, shrill yell from one of
his braves without, told him that the trail had
been found. He uttered a little cry of cxultation
/ ,

  

14

and flung his blazing brand upon the bed, as he
dashed out of doors.

The trail-hunters had found Where the beasts
lnd be ~n mounted, and then from that point the
tracks led in a straight line toward the forest.
There seemed but one solution of this. The set-
tler had taken alarm at the threats of Dusky
Dick, and had resolved to journey to the lower
settlements. , ,

, “ Look! the lodlge is burning!” exclaimed a
savage, to Dusky ick.

The brand the latter had thoughtlessly flung
noon the bed had done its work. The flames
\Vrll'fl shooting up, leaping hither and thither,
1‘ ) wing and crackling as if in fiendish glee.

“ Let it burn. It will shelter no more of our
eneinies,” and he turned away with a grim
s m 9.

John Stevens was standing near, under guard
of two brawny braves who kept a vigilant
watch over him. His blood was boiling within
him at this last act of wanton malignancy, but
fortunate] he controlled his anger before it
broke fort into words, that, while the could
(1) him no good, might be productive o harm,
in the wrathi’ul mood of his captors. -

Dusky Dick now renewed his instructions to
the guards to keep careful watch over the cap-
tive, and then set forward after such of his
braves as were tracing out the course of the
fugitives by torchlight. The hoof-tracks crossed
the clearing, and entered the trail leading to the
1 wer settlements.

Thus far it was plain sailing, and Dusky Dick
thought he divined the plans of the fugitives.
He believed they were ressiug on at a hot pace
hr the safe country be ow, and resolved to give
them chase. -

He could not proceed rapidly enough by torch-
light trailing, and indeed, knowin the lay of
the country so well. he did not thin < there was
o my further need of this aid. On foot he could
proceed much more rapidly than the fugitives
upon horseback, through the tangled woods.

But it would be impassible to carry his prison-
er along. There would be too areata risk of
1) :ing him, and besides, he would only delay
t Jerri.

So Dusky Dick turned to the two guards and
hide them take Stevens and hasten at once to
the lodge by the great rock, Where they were to
doliver him to loan Young according to the
b irgain already made. Then ie and his braves
dished away at headlong s eed along the trace.

Ever since his capture, ohn had been busy.
He knew that unless he could effect his escape
t iat night, his chances for life were very slim. '

His hands had been bound behind him with
strong deer—Skin thongs. Then another cord had
been wound several times around his body, thus
pinioning his arms close to his sides. It seemed
as though escape from these bonds, unaided,
was an impossibility.

John had thoroughly tested the strength of
the thong securing his wrists, and knew that he
could not break it while his arms were so con-

‘ fined that he could not exert his strength to any

advanta 9. He saw .that he must first rid him-

self of t e cords around his arms and body.
And to this end he had been Working since

below the cabin was reached. While the search

/

 

Dusky Dick’s Doom.

was being Erosecuted, he had been backed up
against the uilding’s side by his captors. Here
he had caught one of the cords upon a knot, and
had succeeded in ginning it down over his hands;
thus the most di cult part of the task was ac-
complished.

The rest was comparatively easy. The one
turn, thus loosened, gradually divided its sur-
plus with the others, until John could work his
hands slightly up and down. When the party
entered the woods, along the horse trail, only
one cord bound his arms!

Then that slipped down, and during the con-
sultation, John, with a quick, dextrous twist,
brought his bound hands up over his head, and
dropped them in front; the movement not being
noticed in the gloom. Cautiously raising his
hands, Stevens applied his strong, sharp teeth
to the thongs, and though he had barely half a
score moments to work in, be improved this
time so well that the thong parted ata quick
pull upon it.

His first impulse was to turn and flee for life,
but that would be too great a. risk. and the
young settler had sufficient good sense to await '
a more favorable opportunity.

Then he was given to the two braves. to be
conducted to the half-breed, One Eye. Stevens
felt a thrill of delight at this, for he felt that his
escape was all but assured. Surely, during the
long three miles he could effect an escape, now
that only two were left to guard him.

But a dau er threatened him, that he had not
foreseen. e was being led back to the blazing
cabin, and once within the broad circle of light
cast around it, it was highly probable one of
the red-skins would notice that the cord was
broken around his wrists.

However that must be chanced, and as the
young settler managed to screen the broken
ends, ‘holding them under his hands, again
crossed behind his back, he believed they would
pass muster. The clearin was entered, a red—
skin walking upon either Side of him, clutching
a shoulder.

The building was now blazing furiously, and
Stevens felt a choking sensation as he gazed
upon it. Many a happy hour had he spent be-
neath that roof, with those who, for aught he
knew to the contrary, might even then be lying
cold and still in the embrace of death.

As the clearing was crossed, the cabin being
left directly behind the trio, a low 0 broke
from John’s lips. Before them, afar o , was a.
ruddy glow, lighting up the skies high above the
tree—tops. It needed not a second glance to tell
the young settler the meaning of this. The po-
sition plainly revealed that. It was the con-
llagration built by One Eye; the blazing of the
second cabin.

The Indians urged John along rapidly. One
walked before. the other behind, within arm's
length of their prisoner. Evidently they did
not intend throwing away a chance, but were
resolved to convey him safely to his destin -/
tion.

They had not proceeded far from the Wilson
cabin, when the foremost Indian paused with a
low hiss. and bent his ear toward the ground.
To the right and front he could distinguish the
tramp of horses’ hootal .

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Dusky Dick’ Doom. L * 16

 

“Perhaps ’tis One Eye, crossing with horses
captured from the pee le of the lodge by the

' great rock,” muttered t e savage, whose hand

rested upon J ohn’s shoulder. '
“ It may be. Let Tichenet wait here with the
pale-face, while Asainee goes to see,” hastily

_muttered the other, arising and gliding away in

the forest, choosing a course so as to intercept
the horsemen, whoever they might be, leavmg
the other two where they stood.

John believed that the time had now come for
him to make a bold stroke for freedom, assured
that no other so good a chance would be given
him. And so, while waitin for Asamee to gain
a safe distance, be entirely reed his hands.

Stealing a lance at his guard, Stevens saw
that one han rested upon a knife-hart, while
his head was bent in an attitude of acute ate

, tention. His thoughts were mainly with his

comrade, and the probable issue of his venture.

Stevens tightly clinched his hand, and drew
it back, Suddenly there came a startling in—
terruption. A clear, spiteful crack echoed
through the forest/slowly followed by a Wild,
shrill yell. unmistakably that of an Indian,
probably that of Asaniee, as the direction cor-
res nded with the one taken by him.

ichenet uttered a low cr , and, dropping
his grasp from the prisoner's s oulder, he start—
ed orward a pace, his nostrils dilating like
those of a hound upon a breast-high scent. The
golden opportunity was offered, and John was
not a man to neglect it.

His wiry right arm shot out, the tightly
clinched fist alighted full beneath the red-skin‘s
unguarded ear, felling him to the ground like
adog. the blood gushing from his mouth and
nostrils. Stevens did not trust to this, but
sprung upon the senseless form, and plucking the
half—drawn knife from the nerveless grasp, he
drove it deep down into the red-skin’s brood
breast. ‘

Then John seized the fallen rifle, assuring
himself it had received no injury; after which
he secured the ammunition and belt, placing,r

'in it when buckled around his waist, the knife

and hatchet of his dead foe. He could scarcely
restrain a cry of exultation, as he felt himself
once more a free man, provided with means of
ofiense or defense, as the occasion might re-
quire.

John paused and listened intently. He could
hear no sounds save the usual ones of a summer
ni ht in the forest. ’

e knew that his friends were somewhere in
the woods; the two blazing cabins told him
that, but just where, he had no means of know—
ing. But he believed the party fired at by
Asamee—if indeed it was his rifle they had
heard—wei'ernope other than his relatives, un-
der convoy of Fred Wilson, who had taken the
horses and were hastening toward the cabin he
had so lately left.

But Surely they must have noted the hire of
the blazing building and it would te them
that foes were, or had lately been there. Then
they would naturally give it a wide berth,
which would account for their being off the
main trail. 7

Still, J 91111 thought it strange he heard no fur,

ther sounds. If they had fired at Asamee, why

 

did not that worthy return? His yell had come
after the shot; neither Was it a death-cry..
That much Stevens felt confident of.

“John Stevens, you’re a fool!” he disgusted-
ly muttered, apostrophizing himself, after a.
brief hesitation. “ If you want to find out, why
don’t you go where you can, instead of stand.
ing here like a siinpleton?”

Acting upon this sensible advice, John turned
and glided from the blood-stained trace into the
forest, as nearly as he could guess in a direct
line toward the oint from whence had proceed—
ed the alarm. ut the delay had somewhat 0011‘,
fused him, and he bore considerably to the left.

He was forced to advance slowly, for fear of
coming into unexpected collision with Asamee,
and some little time was consumed are he gained
the vicinity—as he believed—of the spot. Then
he remained silent, listening intently for some
sound to tell him how matters tood. ,

After what seemed an age—but in realit ,
onlyafew moments—he fancied he could d
tinguish a faint rustling noise, at only a few
yards’ distance; but if so, the person, whoever
it might be, was going from him, as the next
moment he lost the sound entirely. J 'ohn felt 11
his weapons were in readiness for use, and then
glided orward, as noiselessly as possible, to-
ward the point from whence had proceeded the
suspicious noise.

Again he heard the sound, and now could
quite plainly distinguish the fall of irregular
footsteps, evidently made by a. human being.
Believing they were those of Asamee, and burn-
ing to wreak a bitter revenge upon him for the
threats and abuse he' had so plentifully be-
stowed upon him when a captain, Stevens drew -
his knife and followed the ootsteps, displayi , ,
considerable skill for one so little versedlin wogfi
craft as he was, making scarcely more noise 
than the velvet-paved panther when stealing
upon its prey.

It was a difficult matter, this running through L I

the tangled woods, but above the noise made by
himself, Stevens could hear that of the other, \
showing that both had to encounterthe same

difficulties. Then came a low, gasping c ~a ‘ “ 

heavy fall, and then John was upon the fugitive
with knife uplifted to deal the fatal blow.

But the gleaming weapon descended harmless—
ly, and also a cry of wonder broke from-his 
as he touched the rostrate form. He felt
flowing drapery o a woman’s dress!

“ Mercy—mercy l” gasped the latter, in a voice
trembling with fear and apprehension. .

That voice! How well John knew itl ' No
danger of his confounding it with any other.

“Annie—you here!” he uttered, in a tone of
wondering surprise. .

“ Mercy—have mercy l" ‘ ’

It was evident that the maiden did not !
nize his voice. Her terror construed it in
that of a deadly foe, thirsting for her life.

“ Annie—don’t you know me? It is John-—

John Stevens,” and he bent over the prostrate >- ‘ "
and trembling form winding his arms tenderly , ~ '

about her, pressin . is lips to her cold brow.

It was the first ime 119'de ever ventured so
far, but the strange and exciting circumstances
must be his excuse. And the course, too, an-
swerod a good purpose, for the maiden recog-

7.x

16 Dusky Dick’s Doom.

 

nized him then, and with a low cry, flung her
arms around his neck, sobbing hysterically.

“John—thank God!" murmured Annie, sob-
bing from excoss of joy. “ I thought it was an
Indian.”

“No, it is me,” he added: a rather needless
assertion, but he was hardly accountable for his
Words or actions then, as he clasped the lovely
form closely to his breast, and pressed more
than one fervent kiss upon her lips, now unresist—

in . .

gut then Annie started up with alittle cry.
The truth had flashed upon her mind, and
brought her back once more to the stern realities
of this life.

“I forgot—my father, mother—where are
they?” '

“Don’t you know? Where did they leave
you? And you have not told me how it is I find

on here alone, at night,” added John, curiousv

y.

“We were afraid of the Indians, and left
home, intending to call for your folks and then
try to reach the lower settlements. But some«
thing—somebody shot at us and frightened the
horses. Mine ran beneath a low limb, and I
was brushed from his back. The fall must have
stunned me for a time, because I heard nothing
more of them. Then as I got up and walked
away, trying to find where they went, I heard
on after me, and thought it was an Indian.
The rest you know,” hurriedly explained the
maiden.

“ I'm afraid we’re all in a bad fix, Annie. If

‘you look, you can see the light from your house

now. Dusky Dick set it on fire. Our home is
on fire, too. No—don’t be frightened; the folks
were not in it. Fred came there and alarmed
us, and I started on ahead to tell our folks the
news, but got captured by the ndians. Fred
said he would bring on the others to your house,
when we all could go together.”

“ And father is on the way up there! He will
get killed—I know it!”

“ You said Tobe Castorwas with them?”

“ Yes, he came just before dar .’7

“Then/he will save them from/that: He is
too old and cunning to,walk blindly into such a
scrape But you I am troubled the most about
now.’

“ Hark l” whispered Annie, as a startling sound
broke the stillness of the air.

It was a loud, hoarse shout, closely followed
by a shrill yell: and the confused noxse as of a
mortal struggle between strong men; John
quickly divined the cause.

“It is your friends, returned to look for you.
They have met the Indian who was with the one
I killed. Do you stay here while I go forward
and help them.” ,

“ No, I will go along,” and then the young
couple glided rapidly toward the spot from
whence proceeded the confused sounds.

It was indeed as John had surmised. Tobe
Castor hadco me into collisiongwith Asamee, and,
well matched in point of strength and dexterity,
the were now rolling over the ground in a life
a death Mgrapple.

Tobe h made one blow, his knife sinking

‘ 33p into the shoulder of the savage, inflicting a

nful flesh wound, but in no wise disabling

 

him. As he received the wound, Asamee gave
a quick twist that wrenched the knife from
Castor’s hand, tearing it from the wound, and
hurling it several yards away.

However, he found his own hands full without
attempting to draw a weapon, and it bade fair
to result in a test of relative strength and en—
durance: their arms wound about each other as
they strove desperately for the mastery. but
such was not to be the case.

Stevens dashed u , and paused before the con-
testants, with rea y knife. He could not dis-
tinguish one from the other; and then, resolving
to chance it, he s ke out:

“ Who is it—w 'te or red?”

“ Both, I reckon—I kin answer fer the white,
anyhow,” muttered Castor, the Words issuing by
jerks. “ Who’re you?” _

“ John Stevens—let me help you,” and the
young man strove in vain to gain a fair stroke
at Asamee.

“Gi’ me the knife, byarl” and as he spoke,
Castor wrenched one arm loose. and then dashed
his fist with crashing force full in the red—skin’s
face, .who fell back, confused and bewildered.

Then Castor seized the proffered weapon. One
$uick, deadly thrust, and the contest was ended.

obe coolly wrenclied off the seal , and then
arose, puffing and blowing like a. uman por-

pulse.
“Wolf! Tough dog thet, fer a red. E’ena’-
most squoze my outsides in; durned ef he didn’t!
But how’d you come here? Hain’t see’d nothin’
0’ ar stra ital—4’
“ hole 0 , where are father and mother?”
said Annie. springing forward, now assured
that the strife was ended, by the conversation.
“Ge—thunder!” ejaculated Tobe in amaze-
ment. ‘-‘ What next! The gal—cf ’tain’t, then
I’m a liar!” and the old scout clas ed Annie to
his breast in a. genuine “bear's ug," at the
some time carrying the siniile further b an un—
couth shuffle, quite as graceful as someo Bruin’s
most finished antics.

“ Don’t, you’ll smother her!” cried John; and,‘

lover»like, there was a tinge of uneasiness in his
tones, as he beheld another rform the same
thing he had, on] a few minutes before; but
then it was all rig t.

“Nary time—will it honey? Gals ain’t easy
anothered theta-way. B’ar a good deal 0’ hug—
gin’, them critters will. Kinder comes nat’ral
to,’em, I guess
good mind to scold ye, right peert, now, for

our skeerin’ us all so pesky bad i” but instead,

obe smacked her li right heartil .

“ There, there, unc e Tobe!” and his twisted
from his grasp. “ You ought to be ashamed of
yfiiurself—at such a time, too. But where are
t eyi

" The old folks? Out yonder. They hid while
I kem back to hunt you up, alter you jumped ofl.’
to hunt this teller up. Did, didn’t you? Then
how did you chance to find him?”

” This is hardly the time for joking, Castor,”
rather crustily interjected John.

“ Right you be. Thar—I'm” sober as to.
judge. But flndln’ thet honey-bird thar, jest

sorter sot me crazy. Did. fer a factl. Jest set

me right on send, like. Made me feel good—
kinder squirmish all over, an’ it had to come out

Lord bless ye, honey! I’ve a ‘

 

5 I)-.-

«a

(new; »«

"%

Dusky Dick’s Doom.

4

1"

 

or hu’st; which wouldn’t ’a’ b’eu pleasant—the
bu’stin’ part, I mean. But come—the old folks
’ll be mighty oneasy ontil we git back. Gi’ me
your hand, honey, an’ you, J ohn, keep cluss op."

“ Where do you intend going, Castor?”

“To your house, a’ter others.”

“Our house is like that of Mr. Wilson’s—on
fire, or burned to the ground by this time. You
can’t see the light from here; but we did, a lit-
tle back.

“ You don’t—then whar’s your folks?” ex-
claimed Tobe anxiously.

“ Out in the woods somewhere. Fred gave

9 the alarm—he overheard the plan as he was com-
ing throu h the woods toward our house. He
sent me a ead to warn Mr. Wilson, but Dusky
Dick’s devils captured me. I saw him set fire
to Wilson’s house.”

“And how'd you git away?"
“ He set off a ter you—along the Lower Trace

—and sent me, with two Indians as guards, to

‘oin Sloan Young’s gang. We heard your

orses, and one of them ran out to see who it
was. I killed the one left with me. You fin-
irshled the other, just now,” hastily exclaimed

o n.

“ You don’t tell me! Gi’ me your hand—no,
thar hain’t no time for that now, but you’re a
trump anyhow, if I do say so. It’s a peskier
job ’n l ’lotted on, durned it ‘t’ain’t, now. Hev
to use right smart head—work to git out on it,

, too, of we don’t mind. Drat the imps——what’s
got into ’em, anyhow i" and Tobe spoke in a voice
of intense disgust.

“ What do you think best to be done. now?”

“ Don’t talk—I’ve got to think. Take the gal,
an’ keep cluss ahind me. Thar—so.” P

John pained one arm around the lithe waist of
the maiden, who shrunk back at first, but then.
as his ressui'e increased, she 'ielded, and felt
all the otter for so doing. Rea y, despite their
ominous surroundings, the young couple were
progressiniflnely.

Not anot er word was spoken until Tobe Cas-
tor paused and uttered the agreed upon signal;
the cry of the nighthawk. Then Wilson and his
wife sprung forward from their covert.

“ Annie—our child—where is she?” gasped the
mother, breathlessly.

“ Here, mother!” and then the trio were locked

I in a close and warm embrace.

Tobe touched Stevens upon the arm, and
drew him to one side. They were the only ones
of the party fit for sober consultation now.

“ You say that pesky half-breed. Sloan Young,
was at your house?" asked the old scout.

’ “ Yes. I heard Dusky Dick say so.”

“ You don’t think he—that is, you think the
folks got out safe?”

“ I do. If not, we would have heard of it.
There was no shooting. Besides, Fred got there
soon after dark, and was to start right away for
here. He feared an attack would be made upon
his people, too.”

“ Then they’re on the road sowewhars. They
must ’a’ seek] the light, as they hed higher ground
to look from ’n we had. 0’ course Youn‘ ’d set
out n’ter ’em, hut-fut. Then you say usky
wept out torst the settlements?”

you had gone that way. ” g -

 

v Yes: along the LOWer Trace. He believed l

“ I ’lowed he should. But mayhap ’t would ’a’
bin better it we bed ’a’ kep’ on, as’t turns out
now. We‘ll hev ’em both ’afore an’ ahind now,
durn ’em! But we’ll hev to run the chances fer
all I See.” gloomin muttered Tobe,

“But our folks—what about them?” and there
was a deep anxiety visible in the young man’s
voice as he spoke.

“ They’re in the hands 0’ the good Lord, boy.
We cain’t do nothin’ fer ’em now, onless we
stumble onto ’em. like. The boy’s with ’em, you
say, an’ he’s wu’th a heap in a muss like this ’ere.
If so be it’s to be, they’ll git through all safe;
but if not, then the Lord hava mercy on tha’r
souls!” solemnly added the hunter.

" Amen! But I fear the worst. I wish I was
with them now.”

“You could do them but little good, if the
worst is to come. Fred is thar, an’ new you
must kind 0’ take his place here. We’ll need our
best licks to bring ’em through though, I’m
afeerd.”

“ Tobe,” said Wilson, approaching him,
“what‘ve we to do, now? Annie says Fred is
not at Stevens’s.” I

“We must ’bout face, an’ strike for the settle-
ments. Not deerect thar, fer Dusky Dick is
’tween us an’ them; but by a sort 0‘ circumben—
(libns like, thet’ll throw them off 0’ the scent.
We’ll b’ar to the east—”

The further speech of the old hunter was ab-
ruptly cut short, by a series of thrilling sounds.
Full well the little party knew the meaning of
these, and each one shuddered convulsively at
the dire visions conjured up before their mind’s

eye.

A rifle—shot, a shrill ell—other shots, followed
by more cries and yel s; then a wild uproar, as
of deadly strife, at close quarters. ,

CHAPTER VII.
THE FOREST TRAGEDY.

WE will now turn to and trace up the fortunes
of the little party whom We left just quitting
the “ lodge by the rock,” and entering the gloomy

orest.

A longing, lingering ,look was cast back at the
rude but loved structure, which had sheltered
them for so long a time. But there was no re-
treating now.

Fred was Iprobably the most anxious one of the
party, for e knew, better far than they, the
real extent of the peril that menaced. '

He was not without some expe ience in Indian-
fighting, for before they removed to Minnesota,
he had spent several winters trapping in the
Blackfoot country, and with Tobe Castor, had
more than once made his mark upon the persons
of the dusky-skinned heathen. And since his

 

residence here. Fred had kept his Woodcraft "
brushed up, by long hunting excursions With the.

old scout. .

So he on utioned his companions to step lightly
and to avoid all conversation, while he glided on
some yards in advance, trusting to discover any
impending danger long enough beforehand to
guard them from it. Their progress was neces-
sarily slow, but the value of the young ranger’s
precautions was soon made ap arent.

Fred’s keen ear cauight _t e sounds of a

aching footsteps, a‘n rapidly falling back,

I

I

 

. Vance.

18 Dinky Dick’s Doom.

 

drew his companions to one side of the narrow
trace, where they crouched down amid the
bushes. Fred knelt before them, his weapons
ready for instant use, in case a collision was
unavoidable.

The light pattering sound drew nearer, and
then one form after another glided directly past
the fugitives, who even held their breath, so
imminent seemed the risk of discovery. Then
the last link of the living chain passed by, and
was lost to view amid the dense shadows.

Not until the last sound died utterly away, did
Fred venture to move or speak. Then his voice
was low, but full of uneasiness.

“It was Sloan Young’s gang. I recognized
him. They have gone to your ome, and when
they find their plans are discovered they will be
after us, half-wildl"

‘.‘ Then let us hasten on at once,” impatiently
muttered Stevens. “We can reach your house
by the time they get to ours. With such a start
there is no danger of their overtakin us. ”

“ Not so. You forget that Dusky ick’s gang
is somewhere near ere, and if we run across
him, then we are lost indeed. A rifle-shot would
call those devils back, and then we would be
massacred in a moment—or else saved for the
torture. No, we must use more caution now
than ever. Will you be guided by me? I have
had more experience in these matters than you

i have, or I should not ask such a thing," added
Fred, modestly.

“Yes—we will do as you say. Only be
quick!"

“Then we will go on as before. Only be as

. cautious in stopping as possible, and don’t press
too close upon me.’

Fred re-entered the path and glided on in ad—
He felt extreme anxiet as tothe proba-
ble result of the venture now t at he knew foes
were both before and be ind.

He was also anxious regarding the result of
John Stevens’s errand. f he had been de-
layed, or had an thing happened to prevent
his gaining the ca in, matters would be gloomy
indeed. _

Dusky Dick was evidently pzp to mischief, and
as he was not with Sloan oung, what more
likely than that he would pay a visit to the
Wilson cabin? Should he do so, and find the in-
mates nusus icious of their danger, an easy
victory woud be his. No wonder the young
settler felt worried.

And then he abruptly aused, with a slight
exclamation of dismay. efore him he could
distinguish the fast-widenin trace of a conflu-
v gration; the sky was ra i y reddening with
‘ what he knew must be t e glare of a burning

cabitli ——and that cabin none other than hls
own .
“ eel the devils are at work!” he hissed, in a
strained and unnatural vorce, as his com-
anifyms drew nearer. “ It is our cabin on
rel

The little party stood in mute anxiety. Their
eyes roved from one face to another. A terrible
fear was upon them. ‘
. They could just distinguish the sound of shrill
ells, as of lndians, home to their ears by the
avoring breeze. It sounded like the death-knell
to all their hopes. r r

/

 

“ What will you do now, Fred?” asked
Stevens, breaking the painful silence.

“ I must go ahead and see what that means.
If John has been delayed by anything, I fear the
worst—all is lost. And it looks that way, for I
hear no shooting.” v

“ Will it be safe?”

“ Not for the rest of you. You must stay
here until I can find out how the ground lies.
It would be worse than folly to go forward now,
not knowing who we may meet. Come out
here—it will be safer. So if any red-skins
chance along the trace, they will not discover
you, if you are anyways careful.”

Fred did not pause fora reply, but led the"

we. out a few yards from the trail. Then he
be e the fugitives crouch down amid the under—
brush and await his return, which would be as
speed as possible.

“ V ould it not be better for us to keep right
on toward the settlements? It seems dangerous
to waste time waiting here, like this.”

“ No, it would never do. You would only
lose your way, if indeed you did not run into
some ambush. You must stay here until I come
back. It is the best you can do, now. ”

“ But hasten. then,” and the settler composed
himself to await the result with such patience as
he could summon.

As Fred glided noiselessly away through the
gloom, a chi fell upon the spirits of the little
party, that seemed a remonition of coming
danger. Stevens star to his feet, intending to
venture all, rather than remain there in sus-
pense, but the women finally persuaded him to

‘abide by the decision of the young ranger,

whose experience in such matters was far the
greatest.

To increase their anxiety, they now perceived
the glow that marked the destruction of their
own home.

The minutes rolled on, each one seeming like
an hour of ordinary time, and still no signs of
Fred’s return. Then came a rifle-shot from
some point not far distant—a wild yell. follow—
ed by the loud crashing of What seemed horses’
hoofs, passing through the forest at headlon
speed. Tremblingly the three fugitives awaited
t 8 result, fearing to move from their covert.

The glowing beacon upon either hand of them
grow more faint as the moments passed on, and
then were entirely shut out from view by the
gathering clouds, and the thickly-clustering tree-

tops.

And still no sign of Fred’s return. Stevens
could stand the suspense no longer, but arose to
his feet, saying:

“ I Will wait no longer. Something must have
happened, or he won]! have been back long ago.
It is throwgng away our only chance by stopping
here. Co e, let us go.”

. “ But Fred said—" uttered Jennie, ~ falter-

ingly. ,
“ I know that, but something must have hap-

pened to hinder his coming back. If we stay

ere, we will only be smelled out and killed by I

these murdering red-skins. Come on,” decisively
added Stevons, as he moved away from the

spot.
be in vain, and arose to obey.

The women knew well that resistance would .

 a}.

 

 

 

 

 

Dusky. Dick’s Doom.

19

 

Stevens did not think it )rudent to travel in
the beaten trace, lest he s ould meet some of
the enemy, and so kept along through the forest,
using such skill as he was possessed of, to pro-
ceed silently.

But the danger foreseen by Fred, proved well
founded. In the very outset the borderer went
astray. He had lost his bearings. and instead of
proceeding toward the lower settlements, he was
pursuing an almost directly opposite direction,
or nearly toward his own cabin—or where that
had previously stood.

In evading the tree-trunks and clumps of
bushes, he deviated from a direct course, now
bearing to the right, now left, until he almost
struck the beaten trail they had lately traversed
when led by Fred Wilson. And then Stevens
ran headlong into the very danger he was most
anxious to avoid.

The settler came first, then his wife, and after
her, Jennie. The dress of the latter caught u )on
a root, and she paused to loosen it; a fact 1; at
probably saved her life.

For just then a wild yell rung out from close
before Stevens, accompanied by a sharp crack
and broad glare that lighted up the scene for a
moment, with startling vividness. By it the
settler saw the dusky figures of some half—score
savages, and with the impulse of the moment, he
threw up his rifle, firing at the foremost one.

A thrilling death-yell that followed told that
his shot had not been spent in vain, but then a
return volley rung out, and he staggered hack,
wounded unto death. He stumbled over the

rostrate form of his wife, whom the first shot

ad strickenrdown, but recovered himself as the
enemy sprung forward with exultant whoops
and yells. \

For a brief moment the settler battled with
frantic fury, but all was in vain. The bullet
that first struck him had reached the seat of life,
and then a knife pierced his side. Still defiant,
he sunk down, with a hoarse cry, upon the body
~ of his murdered wife. And over them raged the
red-skins, fighting for the coveted scalps like de-
mons incarnate. ‘

Jennie was sheltered by the intervening tree-
trunk, and although more than one bullet shat—
tered the rough bark, she was unharmed.
Terror held her enchained to the spot, despite
herself.

Then she heard the dying c of her father,
and knew that all was lost. , ith a low cry of
agon she turned and fled through the forest,
half ead with horror.

The red-skins scrambling for the coveted tro-
phies, heard her not, but one other car did; that
of Sloan Young, and divining the truth, be
sprung forward after the fleeing girl, and knew
that the coveted rize he feared was lost, was
now just within his grasp. He gave vent to a
long, loud yell of diabolical exultation.

But J ennie’s feet seemed gifted with more than
mortal speed, and she fled over the rough ground,
through the bushes and tangled shrubbery, fully
holding her vantage—ground, hard as the half-
breed strove to overtake her. Uttering furious
curses, he'dashed madly on—to his death!

Jennie sped on, blindly, half unconsciously.
fihe knew not her own danger; she only felt

 

some frightful danger was driving her on, she
knew not whither.

She sped on past a dark, crouching form, and
then felt, rather than saw, another figure rise up
before her. With a low, gasping moan she sunk
unresistingly into the outstretched arms; hcr
senses fled and she fainted.

The half-breed also heard the cry and answer-
erl it with one of exultaut triumph, for he be-
lieved that the fugitive must soon drop from ex»
haustion, when she would become an easy prey
to him. But he was doomed to a bitter disap-
pointment.

He noted the abrupt cessation of J ennie’s foot-
steps, and tricky himself, he suspected some ruse
upon her part; most robably an attempt at
doubling upon him. 0 defeat this he paused
and listened intentlfy.

He saw a dark gure rise up almost within
arm’s length of him, and believing it to be his
intended victim, he sprung forward with out-
stretched arms, crying: r

“ You may as well gi’ up, my dearu” _

Thus far he spoke, and no further. For a
strong hand clutched his throat, and as the tall
form towered above him, the gleam of a de—
scending knife—blade filled his eyes. The half—
breed made one desperate efl’ort to free himself;
he was not given time for more.

But he was held like a child, and then the keen
knife hissed down—then with a horrible thud, '
the hilt fairly struck against his chest. The I
long blade had cloven his heart in twain.

Still 'he made a desperate effort—his death~ ' I

throe, it was—and freed his throat from the
vise-like grip fastened upon it. A sin le wild
yell broke from his lips. and then he sun a life—
ess weight in the arms of his conqueror, a

corpse. ,

Still the alarm was given, and that last cry
bade fair to avenge its author’s death. For- it
had reached the ears’of the still scuflling savages
and awoke them to their folly.

They reco mined the voice of their leader, and
one of them ad placed the sound; and he ui'ck- ,
ly communicated it to his comrades. hen,
with shrill yells of anger they s rung forward,
eager to assist or avenge their c ief, as the case .

might be. -

“ Put the gal down, Jack,” muttered Tobe
Castor—fdr it was indeed him~speaking in a
quick tone. “ The im is a-comin’ hot fut. Let
the women bunker SSW!) cluss ahind the log.
It’s fight now, an’ we’ll hev our hands full ’thout
them I" '

The trio—Castor, Wilson and Stevens—drew
together, the better to meet the shock they knew
must soon come.

The three women had been placed in a clump
of bushes bordering and overhanging a large,
fallen tree, and against this, on theo posit/e side,
the men backed, as by it the secur themselves
from being assailed upon a sides at the same-
time. Tobe again spoke: . 

“ Fire as I do, an’ then down on yer faces. Ef
they shoot at the‘bleeze, thet’ll nichbe save us. 
Then do the best you know how, with cold steal
an’ clubbed rifles, of so be they make a rush.”

There was no time for further instructions, if
such had been needed. But the others knew
what lay before them well enough. They knew,

 

 

I

t

' they rallied, and proceed

20

Dusky Dick’s Doom.

 

it would probably result in a hand-to—hand com-
b it, that could scarcely end otherwise than in
their destruction. And yet they did not flinch.
They had dear and helpless ones to fight for, as
well as“ their own lives.

_.., The yelling red-skins came on at full speed,
until within a short distance of the borderers,

when the abruptlyV paused; the ominous still-
:wss awe them. hey could not comprehend
3.

One

fiye did not answer; then he must be
dead. othing could be heard of his sla er or
Slayers. Therefore they could not have ed, or
the sound of their footsteps would have been
heard.
But then the more impatient of the Sioux gave
a cry and sprung forward. The rest followed in
a compact mass; a fatal move on their part.

The three men standing beside the fallen tree
could now faintly distinguish the enemy as they
surmounted a slight kno 1. Knowing the advan»
ta. 6 of a. first blow, Castor leveled his rifle, the
ac ion being closely imitated by his comrades,
and then fired.

The three reports sounded almost as one, and

carried death and dismay into tl e ranks of the

. Sioux. The horrible death-yells and groans of
agony told, how fatal had been the dischar e,
and, as with one impulse, the survivors bro 6
and fled. without firing one shot.

But this panic was onl momentary. Then
to concert some plan
for the reven e the blood of their fallen com-
rades deman ed at their hands.

The three borderers dropped to the ground, as
agreed upon, but this precaution was needless,
as we have already seen. Then the began hur—

, riedlfi recharcrin their weapons, fu 1 well know-

ing; t ere worfid e further need of them, ere the
‘ afiair was over.

“They are driven back—why not take the
women and slip away i” whispered Wilson, cau-
tiously, he being nearest to Tobe.

“Don’t be a fool, Ed—don’t, for marcy’s
sake. They’d hear us, an’ then we’d be in a
nice fix—I guess not. Thct’s jest what they
,went the most. They don't know how we’re
fixed now, and ’11 fight shy for a time. No, we
must stick it out here——for a time, anyhow.”

Their weapons recharged, the three men
crouched down in anxious waiting. Especially
was John Stevens troubled.

He feared the worst. He had found Jennie,
his sister, fleeing from a spot where had been
going on a desperate fl ht for life. But where
were the others? his fa her and mother? Were
they dead, or also fugitives in the forest?

That was ‘a query he feared to answer. but
something down in his heart told him that a
great calamity had occurred, that he was now
parentless.

Fortunately he had something to distract his
thoughts, in a measure. Othe wise he would
have no mad. But now he, ust bear no for
these e of his sister—his loved one and her
friends.

Thfifroans of the dying wretches had ceased,
and was once more still in the forest. Even
the insects had seede to cease their humming.
and the faint breezo to die utterly away. The
stillness was awful ~depressing in the extreme.

\

 

For despite this seeming peacefulness, they
well knew that bloodthirsty and unscrupulous
foes were busily compassing their destruction.
They knew that some subtle plot was being cou-
cocted by the savages, who would be fairly Wild
with rage and thirst for revenge. This suspense
was harder to bear than the deadliest strife
would have been, for while they knew their
peril was imminent, they knew not in which di-
rection it would first appear, nor the shape it
would assume.

But they had not long to wait for the knowl-
edge. A faint rustling sound at some little dis-
tance first met their vigilant ears, although no
human form could be seen. This foratime puz-
zled them, as the sound appeared confined to a
circumscribed space, near the little knoll upon
which the Indians had stood when the fatal
volley was discharged at them.

Then the rustling ceased, and another sound
took its place. Castor uttered a grunt of dis-
may, as though he comprehended the meaning
of this. Wilson whispered:

“ What is it, Tobe?”

“ Wait an’ you’ll see soon a plenty. Ouss the
pesky impsl” and the old scout fairly ground
his teeth with intense ire.

And in the course of a few moments they did
see, sure enough. A faint, flickering glow—not
a blaze, at least visible to them—shone forth
upon the knoll. only a few gards distant from
its crest. At this moment, tevens and Wilson
divmed the truth, as Castor had already done.

The Indians were building a fire]

Their object in thus doing was plain. They
felt assured their enemy had not fled, and by
this light they counted upon discovering thelr
covert, without serious risk to themselves.

“ Cues the impel” hissed Castor, wrathfully.
“He’s hid behind a rock or 10 or somethin’
else, or I’d soon Slcken the dog, or good. But
we must git out 0’ here, jest the quickest i"

“ But how? Surely they wouldn’t leave a
path open for us? They must have surrounded
us, to guard against any move like that,” mut-
tered Wilson. /
“ I know that—I ain’t sech a pesky fool as "to
make a run for it; yit. But of we stay here tell
that light bleezes up—as ’twill shortly—iwe’re
gone suckers, fer shore! But :We must it over
the log, here. Thar’s a big fork in it, w ‘ere we
kin bunker down, an’ hev the bushes fer kiver.
too. Then they can’t rout us out ’thout makiu’
a rush fer it; which they won’t be apt to do
afore day, anyhow. So up with ye, one at a
time, an‘ git the wimmon onder kiver.”

_ You go first—if you know where the fork

“I’d orter know—seein’s as how I durned
nigh broke my neck over the pesky thing
a-tumblin’ down whar we run up, a it ago.
But when you come don’t make no n’ise, ’less
you’ll hev a load 0’ lead in your karkidge as ’11
be mighty onhand y to kerry about.”

So speaking, the old scout cautiously rose up
and crawled upon the log. ‘The fire was now
blazing no quite briskly, and already casting
out a circ e of light that nearly reached the tree-
trunk. There was no time to be lost.

Jennie was still half-senseless, and, stoopin ,
the old scout gently raised her in his arms, an ,

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Dusky Dick’s Doom.

. in a low, arded whisper, bade the other two
- women to ow him. Though trembling with ap-
prehension, they obeyed, Without a word.
Castor lided through the bushes, along the
log for a ew paces, and then pausing, lowered
Jennie tothe ground. It wasa narrow space
between two forks of the tree, that were here
some two feet in thickness, While over and
around them, grew a. dense fringe of bushes and
Vines.
There was ample room for the entire party,
 and while hidden from the enemies’ view, by 1y~
jug down, they were protected in a great meas-
ure from any bullets that might be ’di-charged
into their covert. Upon this fact Tobe had
counted when he determined to remove from the
3 spot rendered untenable by the rapidly—increas-
‘ ' in light of the fire.
3 The women safe placed, Castor turned and
Vi whispered to his comrades. Wilson was already
5
1

over the lo . and Stevens speedily followed his
example. ‘hcn they sought the new refuge,
, where they knelt down with tenses upon the keen
l alert. and rifles ready for use.
1' “ You wimnien keep cluss,” continued Castor.
. “ Them pesky reds is mighty keerless, sometimes,
, an’ one o' tha’r bullits mought chance to hit ye.”
..' x, “ What do on think they will do now?” anx-
iousl querie Wilson.
, “ on’t know. Tell you better a’ter a bit.
But then you’ll know jest as soon’s I will, come
to think 0’ it. Hist! jcs’ lis’en to that I”
3 This exclamation was drawn forth by a series
- of sounds that suddenly broke the stillness of the
forest. They seemed to come from every int
of the compass, forming a terribly signi cant
concert, when the listeners so well knew the true
performers. -
The faint howling as of wolves; the whistle of

groun squirrel; the mournful cry of the rain-
crow—with still other sounds, came from the
forest depths, telling the fugitives that their
foes were upon the alert—that they were sur-
rounded by a cordon of bloodthirsty and cun-
mug1 enemies. _ a

T e fire blazed higher and more brightly, cast—
ing a flood of light over all surrounding objects,
plainly revealing the long log, behind which
crouched the fu itives. But still, not a trace of
the savages cou d be seen, though keen and prac-
ticed eyes swept every foot of the ground. re-
vealed. ,

Then the signals abruptly ceased, and even the
fire appeared to burn without noise. A stillness
as of death swept over the forest. The moment
of action was evidently nigh at hand.

“ Keep your eyes peeled, boys,” muttered Tobe
Castor, as his teeth clinched and his eyes glit-
tered with a. strange glow. “They know jest
about whar we be, an’ ’11 show tbar hands ’fore
long. Plug the fast Varmint as you kin draw a
head on, but don’t waste ’ary shot.”

- It was evident that the savages had determined
~’ upon the position of the fugitives, but then a
wide stretch was given them, for the log was
some fifty or sixty feet in length, the entire bod
of it fringed With bushes, any point along it so ~
flciently dense for the fugitives to hide in. This
fact alone kept the Indians from making a des-
perate onset at once, '

ha,“ .

,'l
.\

   
    
   
 
 
 
 
 
   

the ni hthawk; the chirp of the tree-toad or-

 

21

'\

Then a rifle-shot rung out from the gloom be
yond the broad circle of light. The bullet sunk
with a dull thud into the decayed log, some feet
from the fugitives.

Another and another rung forth from differ-
ent points of the compass, but still not a cry or
asound cameto tell the Indians of the exact
spot occupied by their intended victims. One of
the bullets tore its way through the cheek of
Tobe Castor, but he did not flinch or move, save
to brush the hot blood from his eyes,

Then a series of cries ran along the cordon of
dusky warriors. Its meaning was comprehend-
ed b the old 5 t, who muttered:

“ t’s comin’ in airncst, now, boys! Pick er
game an’ drap‘ it.’ Then load up, of you ev
time.”

The words' still hissed upon his lips, when a
wild whoop resounded from every side of their
position;,and then a number of dusky figures
appeared in View. But they did not advance
bo dly; instead, they sprung from sideto side, '
yelling fiightfully and brandishing theirweap—
ons in the air above their heads.

Castor was too wise a veteran to be fooled in
the manner they evidently counted upon. His
hands checked the less experienced men, whose
eyes were already glancing along their rifle-
barrels. ‘

“ Don’t shoot—fer yer lives don’t shoot yitl”
he hissed,warningly. “They on’y want to find
out whar we be. Don’t ye see? Wait ontil
the make a gineral rush.”

is prudence was soon confirmed, for like
magic the yelling crowd and the dim, Hinduism-
like figures disappeared as though 6 bad
sunk into the round. Evidently the r skins
were puzzled, nowing now that either their
prey had fled, or else they were far more cun-
ning than they had given them credit for.

Thus another half-hour expired, and still no
direct assault was made, although an occasional ,
shot was discharged into the bushvscreened log.
An overruling Providence seemed to shield the
fugitives, for as yet, the crease upon Tobe Cos
tor’s check was the only wound the party had”

received.

Then Tobe ave a faint hiss. His comrades
gazed in the irection his finger pointed, and
they behold a faint, shadowy figure upon the
ground, at only a few yards distance. Under
other circumstances this would hardly have
been noticed, or if so, would have been t ought
a mere shadovV' but now, with his senses sharp-
ened by peril, Castor knew that it was the form
of an Indian, 'who was crawling up toward
them, evidently with the intention of learning
their exact position.

“ Leave the’imp to me,” muttered Tobe-
“ keep a good lookout on your side for more 0;
the same sort. Don’t let ’em fool yel”.

CHAPTER VIII.
A STROKE FOR VENGEANCE.

WITH painfully throbbing heart, Fred Wilson
left his companions and hastened along the nar-
row trace toward the blazing cabin, to learn
the fate of his family. He dreaded the worst
for a. strange sensation of coming evil weighed
heavily upon his mind.

Still «it did not prevent him from displaying

 

 

,

28

’./ ‘

Dusky Dick’s Doom.

 

- his usual caution and skill, and he glided along
the path, dark and gloomy though the woods
were, with almost the certainty and ease he
would have displayed in broad daylight. Only
at times could he distinguish the reddish glow of
the blazing cabin; at others the densely clus—
tering boughs concealed it from his vision.

In this manner he had roceeded over half
a mile, when he fancied e heard the faint
sound of cautious footl'alls before him. Instantly
pausing, he bent his ear to the ground. He was
not deceived; some person or persons were com-
ing toward him.

With a Wild hope in his hedt, the young
scout softly drew to one side of the trace, and
crouched down beside the trunk of a lar e tree,
in such a position that the passersby, w oever
the rmight chance to be would be momently
out ined a ainst a rift in the tree-tops beyond.

The cat ike footfalls came nearer, and then
the travelers passed before him. In the first one
he recognized an Indian. He could just dis«
tin uish the nodding plumes upon his head.

nd then the next one he noticed was the
same. But he had, unfortunately, looked one
moment too ,long upon the first passer. By so
doing, he only caught a faint glimpse of the
second. The last he saw more closely.

There were only three in number, and he be‘
lieved them all Indians. Had he known the
truth. the entire course of the after events of
that memorable night would have been changed;
perhaps for the better. ,

For had he known that his friend, John Ste-
vens, was of the number, he would have dared
all to rescue him, and thus learn definitely how

' . the young settler’s mission had terminated. But

he was not aware of this, and so suffered them
to ass by unchallenged.
ed then arose and pressed rapidly on, his
mind filled with conflicting emotions. This
art were coming direct from the burning
uil ing; then what was he fated to find there?
All was still in‘that direction. Was the tragedy
over?

And then the young man paused upon the
edge of the clearing. With wildly-heating
heart he gazed out upon the scene of destruc-
tion that lay before him.

The cabin was one mass of glowing coals,
though as yet the walls were standing. And

, though his eyes roved keenly around upon the

\

smooth ground before the building, the dreaded
sight met not his gaze. He had feared he would
behold the dead and mangled corses of his fam-
ily lying there, weltering in their blood.

But, as we know, this sight did not greet his
eyes, and be derived some faint consolation
from it. All might not yet be lost.

And with these thoughts, he began cautiously
circling around the clearing. too wise to venture
within the broad circle of light, while ignorant
whether there might not be a score of his ene-
mies lurking near, watching for some other un—
wary victim. ,

He had, gained a position nearly opposite the
point where he had first stood, when he re-
ceived an evidence of the prudence of his cau-
tion. A tall, dark form emerged from the
shadows near the mouth of the trace, and then

1 strode rapidly toward the building.

 

Just then the walls fell in with a loud jar and
as the sparks ascended Skyward in a dense cloud,
the blaze burst out afresh, and cast a still more
brilliant 1i ht over the scene. By its aid, Fred
could see t at the new-comer was an Indian,
and an angry glow filled his heart, as he reflect-
cd that this same savage might have been an
active agent in the death of his family. For
the young man still believed that he would find
them dead. In no other way could he account
for t'he strange depression that weighed upon his
Spll‘l s.

And he resolved that this one, at least, should
never live to boast of his blood deeds. He
should die, and by his hand. An then he set
about compassing this end.

In this point again fortune seemed favoring
him. The red-skin stood motionless for amo-
ment, his eyes roving keenly around the clear-
ing; then his tall form stooped, and. he glided to
and fro, evidently searching for some sign.

Fred waited in eager antici ation for a mo-
ment more favorable than t is, although the
range was short, and he could easily have picked
ed? the savage with his rifle. But this was a
move he did not fancy, as he did not know how
many red—skins mig t be within hearing, arid
with the lives of others partly depending u on
him, Fred dared not run the risk of a shot. he
blow must be dealt with cold steel, if at all.

The red-skin ceased his zigzag movements,

and now proceeded in a direct line. Fred knew
that he was followin some trail and to his
stern delight, found 1: at trail led the Indian
toward the lower trace.

With steriily-complressed lips and eyes glowing
with a strange Iig t, the young scout glided
rapidly toward the )oint where the trace began,
along, keen knife ' rmly clinched in his hand.
He was none too soon, for scarcely had he
crouched behind a tree—trunk, than the Indian
entered the bushes, his head still bowed toward
the ground.

Then he paused, with a slight grunt, as of dis-
appointment. It was none other than the tty
chief who, had been with One Eye, or loan
Young, and who had started off to put Dusky
Dick upon the watch when it was found the
Stevens family had fled.

Fred Wilson collected his energies and sprung
upon the unprepared red-skin, knife in hand.
Ere the assailed could lift a finger in self-de-
fense, the keen weapon hissed through the air
and then buried itself, with a peculiar thud,
deep in his broad chest.

A low, gurgling cry arose to his lips, but then
died away with the sh of blood that filled his
throat. Then, as t e knife was withdrawn,
the tall form, so lately full of life and strength,
tottered and sunk to the ground, a lump of life-
less clay.

“You are the first one—but will not be the
last, by many more I” muttered the oung scout,
with a terrible depth of hatred an revenge in
his tones, as he stooped over the dead man and
adroitly removed his scalp.

Then he suddenly sprung erect. A significant
sound met his car. A i'ifie—shot—an Indian yell,
at no very great distance.

It apparently proceeded from near the spot
where he had left the Stevens “family, and 

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feared they had been discovered by the Sioux.
He could do no good by remaining here, as
there were no traces of his famil ,and he re—
solved to return at once, thong fearing it
would be too late.

The young scout was not one to hesitate, when
once his mind was made up, and securing the
gory scalp to his waist, he entered the forest
once more, gliding with speedy footsteps to-
ward the point where he had left his friends in
hiding. Still, despite his rapid progress, he was
too late.

As he neared the covert, he uttered the signal
agreed upon, but without an answer. Then he
crept forward to the clump of bushes. He part-
ed them and peered inside. They were unten-
anted by those whom he sought.

Fred stood in angry disappointment, not un-
mingled with apprehension. He did not know
whether Stevens had disobeyed his strict in-
junctions, and ventured forth in an attempt
to escape unaided, or whether he had been sur-
prised and taken prisoner, and he dared not
strike a light to discover, lest it should prove a
beacon to guide a treacherous bullet or arrow to
his life.

Then, as he stood there, another sound met his
ear; one similar to that which had drawn him
from the clearing, only louder and more pro-
tracted. Two single rifle~shots and then what
seemed a united volley, accompanied by wild
yells and whoogs.

There could e no mistaking this. He knew
that one party, at least, of his friends had been
attacked by the Indians; most likely those
whom he had taken under his own charge.

He did not hesitate, only long enough to de—
termine the direction and probable distance of
the strife from where he stood, and then pressed
forward toward it. with as much speed as was
consistent with safety. And now he displayed
in_ an astonishing degree the skill he had at-
tained, thanks to the instructions of Tobe
Castor.

.He glided through the forest at a half-run,
With ap arently as much ease and celerity as
though t e intense gloom was replaced by broad
daylight, seeming to avoid the treetrunks
and other obstacles by intuition. And his foot-
falls made scarcely more noise than those of
th: deer, traversing its course with unhasted
s 5.

red could still distinguish the faint Sound of
yells and cries, as though the strife still con-
tinued, though there were no more rifle-shots.
This fact puzzled him not a little, though he did
not slacken his pace.

Then the yells seemed to shift places, continu—
ing only for a few moments; then dying entirely
away. Then again came the loud reports of fire—
arms, with shrill howls of anguish and terror.

The plot was becoming somewhat tangled and,

complicated, and Fred’s wonder increased.

Still he proceeded, though more deliberately,
for under the circumstances he thought prudence
was the wisest course for him to follow. Then
he uttered a little exclamation as his foot struck
against something yielding. There could berno
mistaking this peculiar touch; he knew that he
was standing over a corpse!

A convulsive shudder ran through his frame

 

as he leaped back a pace; but then be conquered
this involuntary repugnance, and advancing,
stooped over the form. Eyesight could avail
him nothing here; the sense of feeling alone
must be de nded upon.

His han touched the body, and a thrill per—
vaded his form as his fingers rested upon a soft,
slimy substance. He knew it was blood fast
coa ulating. Then aglad hope fllled his cart

'as is hand encountered the smooth-shaven

crown, with the long scalp-lock of an Indian.
Perhaps his friends had not perished, after all!

He slowly moved away from the corpse, feel—
ing along the ground with his feet, but for
some moments, felt in vain. Then he again
touched something that he knew was another
victim.

Stooping, his hand rested upon the unmistak~
able dress of a white man. Gliding up the
body. he then felt of the face. The long heavy
heard there confirmed his sus icions. He felt
assured that the dead body 01? Wesley Stevens
lay before him.

And then a low cry of agonized horror broke
from his lips as he touched a woman's dress.
He staggered back and sunk to the ground,
trembling and unnerved. He feared the worst.
He dreaded to move, lest he should find the dead
and mangled corse of his loved one—of sweet
Jennie Stevens.

But then with an effort he aroused himself,
and without a thought for the danger he might
thus incur, he struck a match and bent over
the forms of the ill-fated fugitives. By its
faint, flickering rays he recognized the father
and mother; the light also showed him the bare
and gory skulls where the scalps had been ruth-
lessly torn away.

He only saw this much, when the match‘
burned to his finger tips and then expired.
Tremblingly he essayed to 1i ht another, but he
was too reatly unnerved. e sunk down upon
the blo -staincd ground and covered his eyes,
as though he would shut out the horrible vision
that filled his brain.

It was a moment of frightful torture, and it
seemed as though he would go mad. He be-
lieved that the clear one, whom he loved better
than his own life, was lying near at hand, dead——
murdered like her parents. I

But then with an effort be aroused up. Thouph‘
sick at heart, his hands were steady as he struck
another match. He had nerved himself to bear
the worst now.

The light cast a faint low around, but the L

dreaded sight did not meet is staring eyes. As

he strode around the spot, hope sprung up in his
heart once more.

_A whip-like report broke the stillness of the
air, so close that Fred started back and dropped
the match, believing that he had been the tar—
get. But then he beheld his mistake, as another _
and yet another shot rung out at some little dis-
tance to his left. ,He also heard shrill yells, that
he knew could only proceed from the throats of
red-skins. ,

His eyes flashed instinctively, and be clutched
his rifle with a firm grip. He remembered now
the second series of shots and yells he had heard;
these were probably a continuation of those. If
so, then the savages who had slain his friends

 

 

e4 Dusky Dick's mo...

 

were yet at hand and if Jennie was taken a

prisoner. she must be there also.

If so, perhaps he could efl’ect her rescue now.
But then. who could be the ones at whom the
shots Were fired? His family? Fred uttered a
low cry of eager hope as this idea flashed across
his mind.

The youn scout listened for a moment, and
then glided orward in the direction from whence
came the sounds. Scarcer had he made the first
step when the cries died away. But still ad—
vancing, Fred soon caught a glimpse of a bright
1i ht before him.

ore cautiously he crept on, every sense upon
the keen alert, until he paused beside a huge
tree whose butt was surrounded by a dense
growth of bushes, and then gazed out upon
the scene. He beheld a huge bonfire blazing
upon a slight knoll. But nota living figure was
in sight.

Then as he azod, a dark flgure glided be-
tween him an the fire; the light, shining
brightly, revealed the features of an Indian.
Then, like a shadow, this melted away. The
stillness began to be oppressive, and Fred could
scarcely comprehend the drama that was being
enacted before him.

Leaviu the tree. he glided stealthin along
through t e gloom, intending to incircle the bon—
fire and discover, if possible, who were attacked
by the Indians. He knew there were enemies

’ close about him, and he brought his keenest
powers into play, making scarcely more noise
ban would have done a serpent.

He had one but a few yards when he heard a
slight rust ing a little to one side, and pausing,
he speedily distinguished the form of a man,
evidentlya red-skin. It seemed as thou h he
must be discovered, and Fred drew his lim 5 to-
gether for the emergency; but the savage

rushed past him, almost close enough for their
extended arms to have met. If he saw the
dusky figure of the young scout, he evidently
mistook it for one of his own comrades.

With a long-drawn breath of relief, Fred
passed on, his eyes roving keenly in every direc—
tion. Keeping at a certain distance from the

. fire, he had covered nearly one-fourth of the dis‘

tance necessary for a complete circuit, when a

new peril threatened him; one that he did not
see in time to avoid.

He noted the form of an Indian coming to-
/, ward him. just without the circle of h ht.

Anxiously he watched the movements of his oe.
. , He could not retreat, as that would only subject

. him to suspicion and the redvman was so c ose

that the slightest movement would be heard.
, And yet the savage was coming directly to-
ward him. Fred crouched lower and drew his
knife partly from its sheath. He had not time
for more, when the savage paused directly be-
sxde him, his eyes bent upon a long line of bushes
at but ’a few paces distance. Then he spoke in a
low tone, using the Sioux dialect.

“Gray Bull is rcreepin up to find the pale-
taces. Let mv brother cap his rifle ready to
shoot them as they spring 1m.”

Fred did not reply, lest his voice should be
tray him, but he stealthily, drew his knife from

The fire blazed u afresh, as the topmost
sticks broke and fell own. A ray of light pene-
trated the bushes, and fell fairly athwart the
pale features of the scout and those of his cop-
per-tinted companion.

Fred beheld the wondering look—the quick
change that told of recognition, and knew that
only the promptest action could preserve his
life. His l"ft hand shot out and clutched the
throat of the red-skin, and then the keen knife
hissed through the air.

But with a sudden start back, the Indian freed
his throat in time to utter a wild yell of alarm,
ere the weapon drank his life’s blood. Then for
a brief moment all was still.

Then a single rifle—shot rung out, and Fred
felt the bullet crease his neck. He knew that
he was discovered and leaping to his feet he
leveled his rifle at an advancing Indian and
fired. Then with a hoarse, defiant shout, min-
gled with a death-yell from the stricken savage,
he turned and fled from the spot.

A frightful tumult arose, and the woods
echoed with the swift, heaVy tramp of the Sioux
Eris they dashed in hot pursuit after their daring

0e.

 

CHAPTER IX.
OUT or THE TRAP.

Tons: CASTOR keenl watched the slowly ap-
proaching red-skin. e could long since have
disposed of him by a rifle-shot, had he felt so in—
clined; but that he did not choose to do. If he
did, then the main object of the savages would
be accom lished. Once given the exact position
of the pare—faces, such a storm of bullets would
be poured in upon them that death would be in-
evitable.

The old scout had decided upon a plan of ac-
tion that he believed might work, though the
chances were greatly against it. He saw that
the red-skin would strike the bushes, if he main-
tained the course he had begun, at only a few
feet from where crouched the fugitives.

The bushes, interlaced with vines and creep-
ers, were very dense, and a person standing
close upon the outside could not perceive those
within, by night, unless he first parted the
screen. his was what the savage would have
to do, in case he accomplished his object.

Castor hoped to be able to quiet this dan er-
ous customer with the knife, and so quietly t at
those who were watching his progress, would
still be at a loss as to their exact whereabouts.
It would be difficult, though he believed it could
be done.

Warning his comrades by a gesture to remain
perfectly quiet, the old scout moved along by
slow degrees so as to intercept the savage.
When the point was gained directly in front of
the creeping figure, Castor paused and prepared
his knife for use.

But the trial was not yet to come. A strange
and unexpected interruption came and afforded
the besieged a respite, none, the less welcome,
because unlocked for.

There resounded a hoarse, gurgling ell-n
rifle-shot—another, and then the defiants outin
the unmistakable voice of a white’ man. Fol-

 

its sheath. Then the save. e turned toward him,
in evident surprise at not log answered.

|

lowing, came wild cries and whoops from the
red-skins. i.

 

 
 

 

 

 

    
   
    
 

 
      

 

 

 5:.

,4 ,

 

 

 

. a

i.’

Dusky Dick’s Doom. \, v 25

 

It was indeed the discovery of the young
scout, Fred Wilson, althou h his friends did not
know it. And a most £01 ate occurrence it
proved to be, at least for them.

The savages were bewildered, and knew not
nihat to make of the affair. But then all seemed
c ear.

The stran c silence of the pale~faces was now
explained. hey no longer wondered that no
reply had come from the bush-screened leg,
when they had so plentifully bestowed their
leaden fav'ors upon it. They had been upon a
false scent all the time. The hated pale-faces
were not there, but had given them the slip, and
but for a fortunate discovery would have crept
entireliyqt away and left them in the lurch.

Muc in this manner the Sioux reasoned, and
then with their thrilling war-whoop, the
bounded after the fleeing scout, eager for his
scalp, though they believed it was the entire
party instead of only one. Their own footfalls
prevented them from learning their mistake, by
the tramp of the fugitive.

The red‘skin who had acted on the “forlorn
hope ” also sprung up and dashed away to join
the pursuit. Othch dashed by, while the con—
cealed fugitives held their breath at the strange
proceeding. '

Castor turned and glided back to join his com-
panions. He was as greatly puzzled as were the
others.

“What is it, Tobe? I thought that sounded
like Fred’s voice,” whispered Wilson.

“ I didn’t notice; but the last shot favored his
gun mightily. Could it be him?”

“Mayn’t It be a trick of theirs to get us to
show ourselves?” suggested John Stevens.

“It mought, but I sca‘cely think it. You see,
too many 0’ them went. An’ they’re kerryin’ it
too fur. Lis’en—you kin hear ’ern a—screechin’
’way 011’ thnr yit,” and Tobe hearkened in—
tently.

flE;,,What shall we do! Stay here, or try to slip
o

“ J est as you think best. I b’lieve our plan is
to travel. It may be a trick, an’ ef so, we‘re
gone, shore. Ef not, we stand a show. Any-
how, of we stay here ontel day, they’ll hev us
then, easy. But jest as you say, on’y be quick
’bout it, ’ca’se thar’s no time to waste. ’

“ I think we had better risk it,” added Wilson,
resolutely.

“ All right, then. Hefi goes. I’ll show up
fu’st, an’ of they don’t plug me, do , on foller.
Step as though you was a—walkin’ons eepin‘ rat-
tlers, an’ don t make no fuss. Ready?”

A murmur gave. assent, and then Tobe
emerged from is covert. crouching low down
in the shade cast by the bushes, andagliding off,
from the fire. Not a sound betray the pres-
ence of any enemy, and the others ventured
forth, using the same precautions that their
leader had taken.

They roceeded thus for full a hundred yards,
when aster halted them. They paused 1n mo-
mentary alarm. but his first words banished
their apprehensions.

“ It’s all right yit. I on’y wanted to tell you
what we must do. We’ll have to take to the
houses, of the imps hain’t found them, or they
haiu’t broken loose. Then we km’ither take the»

 

‘1.

   

trace, or out through the woods, jest’s you think I

best." ,

“We leave it all to you. But it‘s dan erous
stopping here so close. Some of those devi 5 may
come back and stumble upon us." ‘

“ The more haste the wuss speed, you know.
You must wait here ontil I go an see if the ani-
miles is safe. They may hev found ’em an‘ left
a guard thar to cut us oil! of we tried to git to
’em. You wait here ontel you hear me whistle;
then come on as quiet as you kin.” ,

With these words Castor glided away in the
darkness, leaving the little arty to uneasily
await the result of his scout. ut afew moments
of sus use were they forced to endure: then
came the; welcome whistle, and with glad hearts
they pressed forward. In a. few moments more
they were beside the horses, that still stood as
they had been left.

It will be remembered that the Wilson party
were yet consultin as to the best course for
them to pursue, at t e point where Castor had

left the husband and wife, while he sought '

for the missing Annie when the u' roar attend.

ing the attack upon the Stevens amily broke '

upon their hearing. Suspecting the truth, the
party had left the horses as they were hitched,
and rushed forward toward‘the spot, hopin to
be enabled to assist their friends. Thus  is
that we find them once more in possession of
their animals.

“ Now here's four critters, an’ thar’s six 0’ us.
Let the wimmen an’ Ed ride—he's the least able
to stand a ja’nt afoot. Up with ye——no talkin’,
Ed. El! so be’t angr one 0’ us two gits tuckered
out, we’ll change ’t you ”

In another score of moments the little rty ,_
egatbe

were ready for a start. ~ Tobe Castor 1
way, then the horses, and after them came John
Stevens.

B3 mutual consent the old scout was allowed: ,- 
to i ‘

rect their course, and he chose to rooeed,
for some time at least, through the oreetas
being safer than treading in the beaten traceJ

He knew that along it had hastened Dusky Dick ,
assured

and his gang of cut-throats, and felt
that the would soon discover the mse by which

theyha been deceived, and thus would natur- 
ally turn back to find where they had lost the?
trail. By following the trace, there would‘bo 7 .

danger of meeting hlm. .

It was tedious traveling, but it was the roadto
safety, and ’the fugitives bore their hardships
with as good a. grace as possxble- The spirits

of all were gloomy enough, but the hearts of,

the brother and sister were sore indeed. -
Jennie

a bitter one, and only for the absolute necessity
for their restraining their feelings, in order to

preserve their own lives, both of them ,Wouid I

have given way beneath i“.
An thus the night were on. The forest was
traversed and left behind the fugitives, who had

laced a full score of miles behind them ere the , l 

ight of day came over the western hills.

The eyes of the old scout, who was some rds
ahead 0
over the country, searching for what he )1
not to find; some trace of their enemies.
for a time he was agreeably disappointed. _

 

had told her story, and they knew, '
their parents were both dead. The blow was“

the party, roved keenly and aux ngly A 4 I 'y

.N . “Wang‘s

.mvw

 

 

 

 

26 ‘ Dusky Dick’s Doom.

 

They were now in a sort of open prairie at
this point rolling and uneven. Scattered hit er
and you were small clumps of trees surround—
ed with smaller bushes and shrubs. The prai-
rie was covered nearly waist—deep with a coarse
grass, thickly mixed with Weeds.

To the left of the party, and extending some
little distance to their rear, was a line or chain
of hills, rocky and bleak-looking. They were
not far distant at this point, hardly a mile.

“ Do you see any thing, Tobe?” asked Wilson,
uneasily, glancing at the guide.

“ Yas—a plenty, but nothin’ to git skeered at,
as I knows on. I don’t see or a red. Reckon
we gi’ them the dirty shake las night.”

“ I hope so. But will it be safe to rest a bit?
The women need it, and so do the animals. A
bite of food will do no harm—though we have
no water.”

“,I don’t know but ’twould be best. We must
stop some time, an’ now’s jest as good a time’s
any. Thar at that motte yander, we’ll stop.
Thar’s a good spring. too. So we’ll not go
thu’styJ’ said Castor, indicating a small clump
of timber some few hundred yards before them.

The fugitives were now upon a ridge, whose
hight afforded them a fair view of the countrv,
and while Castor spoke, his eyes were keenly
scrutinizing the prairie beyond. He suddenly
paused, with a cry of angry dismay.

“ What is it, Tobe?” cried Stevens, gliding for-
'ward.

“ Look yanderl—Injuns, by the. ’tarnal!"
hissed the old rangeraas be extended an arm
before him.

Thus directed, the gaze of the party was
riveted upon an. alarming sight. And as they
gazed, their hearts sunk within them, for they
saw that Castor was right.

Upon a ridge at perhaps a half-mile distance,
could plainly be distinguished a number of foot-
,men, whose wild aspect as their plumed and or-
namented crests rose above the tall, still grasss
told they were indeed savages. Their number
could not be much less than a score; perhaps
more.

“ Let’s get out of sight in the hollow,” mut-
tered Stevens as hes run to the head of Annie’s
horse. “ Quick! be ore t ey see us!”

“Too late—too late, boyl” muttered Castor,
his glowin eyes sweeping around their position.
’D‘y hear hat 5’"

As he s oke, faint, far-away yells of discovery
came to t eir ears, borne upon the li ht breeze.
And then the sava es were observ to bound
forward toward t em, spreading out as if to
s irround their intended prey.

“ Quick! to the timber—it is our on] chance
now!” shouted Stevens excitedly, as e urged
the snortin horse forward.

“Back—- old on, boy,” cried Castor, a deter-

- mined expression resting upon his countenance.
“ ’Twon’t do—they’d rout us out o’ thar in a.
minnit. We must tr somethin’ else.”

“But what? My ed! man, do you intend to
stay here and let them murder us all?” almost
shrieked Wilson.

I “ No—follow me. Let the hosses went—don't
‘ hold ’em in. Keep up ’th me at you kill the
Critters!” ‘

As Tobe spoke, he turned abruptly to the left,

 

and dashed off at full speed. For a moment the
others hesitated, but his decisxve action over-
ruled their doubts, and they hotly followed in
his lead.

It seemed a suicidal course, this one of the
old scout’s, for he was leaving the friendly
motte almost directly behind him, and was
speeding over the rolling prairie toward a point
where there was nothing to be seen save a bare
hillside. And after them came the wildly yell-
ing red-skins, who now seemed confident of their
prey, for the thick, tangled weeds impeded the
advance of a horse still more than that of a foot-
man.

 

CHAPTER X.
A DOUBLE CHASE.

FRED WILSON little uessed the good his dar-
ing course had accomp ished for his friends, or
he would not have so bitterly cursed his fool-
hardy daring in thus running into such ascrape.
But the harm was did and he could only strive
his best to free himself from the dangerous posi—
tion it threw him into.

He slung his rifle across his back by the strap
appended, and thus with his arms free, he
dashed on with- renewed speed; though the best
pace one could maintain there in such dense
woods, was com ratively slow. Still it tried
one the greater or a tree-trunk would not be
visible until almost run against, and then a
quick, active leap was necessary to avoid it.

Fred could hear the rush of many feet behind

him, and also the continued signaling of his;

foes, telling him that a stern race for life and
death was to be the result. And almost uncon-
sciously the presentiment that had before as-
sailed him, returned with augmented force.

Still he did not falter or neglect a single pre-
caution by which his case might be aided. His
mind was made up to adopt a bold ruse, and
now he strained every nerve to its utmost ten-
sion in order to gain the necessary vantage
ground that would enable him to put this plan
into execution.

As he gained the beaten trace, Wilson turned
and dashed down it, although he would lose
some ground if his pursuers had spread out, as
he felt assured they had. But then he could

lace full confidence in his fleetness of foot. and
elt that with a cle road, he could easily re-
gain the ground thus lost.

Along the th he sped until he reached and
gassed the still—glowing embers of his late home.

at when about a half-mile beyond this, be
deemed his chance good enoggh, and pausin
beneath a huge tree, he clutch a low limb an
adroitly swun himself up into the branches.
Here he lay still, striving to uiet his hard and
re. id breathing, lest it shoul betra his hiding.

t was a full minute before the rst red-skin
assed beneath his perch, and Fred found that

e had gained more ground than he had sup-
posed. Not noticing the sudden cessation of his
footsteps, the Sioux pressed on at hot speed,

little dreaming how narrowly they were miss 7

ing‘ their intended victim.

or some time after their passing Fred re-
mained motionless, but then he stealthin c t
up higher until near the tree-top, where he corald

4

xi.
J, ‘

 

 

 

‘ i
2‘
~
L

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dusky Dick‘s. booth.

2‘2)

 

.n-mnin hidden, even in the daytime, safe from
all prying e es, unless their owner should take
r; fancy to c imb the tree and make a close ex—
mnination; an occurrence that was not at all
iikcl to take place, as Fred’s footprints had,
in alir probability, been obliterated by those of
the running savages.

For full an hour Fred remained there, but
then, hearing no sound of his foes, he descended,
and struck once more into the woods. He had
pondered long and well over his situation, and
mowing he could effect nothing for his friends,
owing to his ignorance of their whereabouts, he
had resolved to set out for the settlements, and,
if possible, there raise aforce and return and
either rescue them, if captured, or avenge their
murder, it dead, as he feared they Were.

Before the (lay broke he had gained the open
prairie, and then paused in a clump of trees, in
order to see if the coast was clear for his future

regress. as soon as the sun should arise. To

asten this end, he scaled a tall tree, and from
its top—branches, he eagerly scanned the prairie,
as well as the dim light would admit.

But until the sun had fairly xii-ism, his search
was useless. Then, however, his heart beat
rapidly, and he saw how wise had been his pro-
caution.

At nearly a mile’s distance, he could just dis—
tinguish the forms of a number of human beings.
Keenly observing them, he first saw that they
were in the direct trace, and were approaching
him at a rapid pace. Then he perceived that
the Were Indians.

red hastily descended a few feet to where the;
limbs were thick, and then‘crouched down, his
eyes once more bent fixedly upon the foe. The
sun shone full 11 , on them now, and he counted
over a Score in n 1.

As they descended into the hollow, he lost sight
of them i or a moment, but then they reappeared
upon the crest, next to the one upon which stood
the grove he had sought refuge in. The trace
ran within a few yards of this nlotte, and the
young man began to feel apprehensive as to his
own safety.

The savages kept on, and now Fred could dis-
tinguish the form and features of a white man;
of Dusky Dick, and his teeth grated fiercely to-
gether as he felt a stern desire to avenge the sup-

osed destruction of his family upon the rene—
gade. But to do so now would be equivalent to
his own death.

Then the party gained the ridge, and paused;
some pointing t0ward the motto where the young
man was concealed. As Fred watched their
every motion, he heard them yell wildly, and
believed he was discovered.

Throwing forward his rifle—muzzle, he glanced
along the barrel. The double sights drew full
upon the head of the renegade, and only a slight
pressure of the forefinger would have sounded
Dusky Dick’s death—knell.

But that pressure was not given,_for just then
the red-skins, led b Dusky Dick, turned and
dashed down the hil —side. with long, loud yells.
In surprise Fred glanced at the further ridge,
and a cry of wonder broke from his lips.

He could quite plainly distinguish another ,

rtY: these unmistakably white. He also noted ;‘
go flowing drapery (if women; three 1n numb-w.

 

And then the truth burst upon his mind like a
revelation. .,

These were his friends, who had successfully
passed through the trials of that eventful night,
only to be again confronted by their bitter and
relentless enemies, when just upon the verge of
safety!

As he beheld them turn and flee, Fred hastily de«
scend ed from his perch, and then,without thought
or reflecting upon the risk he would thus incur,
he dashed down the hill after the red'skins.
Fortunately for him, the entire thoughts of the
Indians were turned upon the fugitives before
them, and not a backward glance was given, or
else this rash move would probably have result- ‘
ed fatally for the young ranger. And then they
gained the ridge and passed beyond his sight.

Before he also gained the crest, Fred’s natural
good sense returned, and he proceeded with more
circumspection.

He kept tolerably well screened by the tall
weeds, while descending, until the savages were
once more hidden from view behind a swell; and
then he dashed on with the velocity of a race—
horse. As he gained the second crest, Fred
again paused. .

He could still distinguish both parties, and
then, as his eyes rested upon the hills beyond, a
glad cry broke from his lips, a bright light filled
his eyes. and after hesitatng for a moment, he
turned and dashed at full speed along the hack
track, his eyes sparkling with a newborn de-
termination. __ 7

CHAPTER XI.
AT BAY!

Tom: CASTOR léd the way at a rapid pace
his tall form making some fairly wonderfu
leaps, doubling up in order to carry his long legs
clear of the dense weeds and shrubs. At any
other time hisqueer antics would have provoked
a smile from the spectators, but now they were
entirely too much concerned about their own
safety to indulge in such demonstrations.

Behind them, at less than a half—milc’s ,dis—
tanee, were a score of bloodthirsty demons, yell-
ing and whooping in eager exultation, as though
their hands were already upon the coveted scalps,
and all resistance was over. This knowledge,
then, was not the. most favorable for awakening
a sense of the ludlcrous, and the only idea his
great bounds called forth was a desire to keep
pace with him.

More than once the old scout was forced to
slacken his pace, so as to avoid distancing the
jaded horses, and an uneasy light filled his eyes
as he noted how rapidly the savages were coming
up with them, lessening the intervening distance
with every bound. And at not more than one-
half the distance to the lull had been covered.

" Make haste, Ed—dog—on it, man, put the
critters down to itl” he hissed, impatiently, at
one of these slackenings. “ Use your knife for a.
spur.” '

“ Where are on going? They’re overtaking
us fast 1” ap re iensivel cried the old settler,
glancing bac K over his 5 oulder.

“ To the hill yander—ef they let us. Use the
knife, I tell ye—ef you don’t, we’re goners!”

Under the impulse of t ‘s novel

SEW, the
‘ “erses dashed forward wit considera 1y aug-

I

£8

Dusky Dick’s Doom.

    

  

. -‘J

 

 

mooted speed, and now the hills loomed up quite
near. But so were the red-skins, who now be-

an sending their compliments after the fugi-

ives, in the shape of sundry leaden bullets, but
as the Indians feared to pause in order to secure
a good aim, lest the fugitives should thus be able
to distance them, there was little to dread save
from some random missile.

Tobe Castor then cried out:

“Feller right on through the openin’ thar;
then turn to your left, right sharp.”

As he uttered these words, the old scout dash—
ed ahead at an astonishing rate of speed, and
entered a narrow deflle or pass, that here cut
through the range of hills. As his comrades
could see, he turned to the left, as he had direct-
ed them to do.

With anxiously-beating hearts, the fugitives
dashed through the pass, and then, uided by a
loud cry in the voice of their frien , turned to
the left and reached the spot where he was
standin .

“ ’Lig t—quicker’n thunder! You wimmen
run into them bushes thar, an’ lav close. Ed,

on an’ Jack stan’ by me. We‘ll sickeu the
Imps fer good, this time!” hurriedly muttered
the scout, as he lifted Jennie Stevens from his
horse’s back; then striking the animal violently
with his hand, it dashed off at full speed along
the bill’s foot.

The other two women leaped to the ground, as
did Wilson, who scoured the bundle of pro—
visions, half-unconsciously. And this move was
completed none ton soon, for the next moment
the yelling savages sprung into View through the
pass brandishing their weapons like mad.

“ ow—gi’ them your rifles, :in’ then fall back
to the bresh yander. Et‘ the foller, let ’em hev
{our ’volvers,” cried Tobe aster, as his long,

eavy rifle uprose to a level.

The Indians paused abruptly, uttering cries of
wondering dismay. Why this bold stand upon
the part of the fugitives, and where were the

women who had so lately been with them? Could,

they still be fleeing upon the horses, whose
rapidly-retreating hoof-strokes could still be dis«
tinguished?

‘ Now I" hissed Castor, and the three rifles
spoke. ,

Two of the enemy went down without a
struggle; a third reeled back with an arm swing—
ing helplessly at his side. But neither of them
was the renegade; he had not yet put in an ap-
pearauce.

"Now drap back to the brcsh, boys,” and
Tobe coolly retreated.

Just then Dusky Dick sprung into view, and
with a wild yell, urged his men on. As the her-
derers fell back. the Sioux dashed ahead. dis-
charginga few arrows; their firearms had all
been long since emptied.

“ Gil them some more I” coolly muttered Tobe,
as,he drew aheavy revolver “Colt‘s Army,”
carrying a half-ounce ball with the range and
force of a. rifle.

And now quick and vicious the reports ring
out from the three men standing there at bay.
Chamber after chamber was discharged with
fair eflect.

It was not Indian nature to stand this long,

more especially as they had not the means or re-

 

 

 

 

turnin the compliment. Dusky Dick was one
of the rst to full, and then, missing his voice,
his men retreated to the entrance of the gap.
concealing themselves as best they could behind
the numerous bowlders that there skirted the
prairie.

“Into the bresh an’ load up, boysl” said Cas-
tor, as he coolly leveled his second pistol at a
wounded red—skin, who was slowly crawling
away from the spot of death.

The revolver cracked, and the Indian made no
further motion. Then with a grim smile, the
old scout also entered t )6 bushes.

A most welcome surprise here awaited the
fugitives, with the exception of Castor. The
mouthof a cave was revealed behind the bushes,
and into it the women had already made their
way.

This, then, was why Castor had made what
had seemed, at the time, a suicidal move, in not
taking to the timber motte, and Wilson now ex-
pressed his regret at having spoken so harshly
upon that occasion. ’

“‘Tain’t no matter, Ed. I don’t blame you,
for it did look a lettle uecr. But it was our
only chaince, ye see. hey’d ’a’ cabbidged us
thar, easy; but in here we kin hold ‘our own
ontcl they starve us out. This is whar Fred ’n’
meykilled the b‘ar this spring—’member, don’t

e?

“ Yes, but—what’s the matter now?”

Castor had turned around to peer through the
bushes while speaking, and then with a bitter
curse of angry chagrin he leveled his istol and
fired. Another curse broke from his ips, as he
half-parted the bushes, as though he would have
spruncr forth.

“ hat is it—are they coming again?” and
the two men pressed forward. _.

“No— he’s gone, the pesky imp! He was a- I;
Blayin’ ’lpossum all the time, I do r‘ailly b’lievel v

on’t b‘ ieve he was tetched ary time!”

“ Who-—what do you mean?’

“Why, Dusky Dick, in co’se. He's gone. I t
see’d him jest as he was a—stealiu’ out 0’ si ht. I E
sent a snap-shot at the cuss. but didn’t tee him.
I s otted him in the fu’st rush, but he must ’a’
do ged it, an‘ then tumbled down to make us
b’lieve he was dead,” somewhat incoherently
added Castor, as he once more resumed loading
his firearms.

Though greatly chagrined, the borderers com-
pleted recharging their weapons without further
comment, meanwhile keeping a cl so watch
upon the open ground around the mouth of the
defile. They felt assured that their fees
were still near, although concealed from sight,
and that they would not abandon the hunt with—
outa desperate effort to avenge the death of
their comrades, several of whose bodies still lay
out in full view, stark and ghastly. ~

“What do you think they’ll do next, Tobe?” , ‘
queried Wilson dubiously.

“ Mebbe make a rush—but I don’t think it. , .x
They’ve bed too good a taste 0‘ our shooters fer i w
thet. We must look out fer tricks now; they'll
pro'bly try sarcumvention fu’st. lMebbe try to ,
smoke us out." "

“But can they do it?" i

“ Not bad, they cain’t. Jest step inside thar 
an” you’ll see. I ain’t so pesky green as to run 1

   
  
  

 

  

       

   
   

 

i

n‘
v

 

-:

Dusky Dick’s Doom.

89

 

 

in a holathet’d be stopped up like that," chuckled
the old ranger grimly.

Wilson stooped low down and entered the rude
entrance of the cave, but it soon enlarged suffi-
ciently to admit of his standing erect, and he
gazed curiously around him. It was dimly
lighted, but sufficiently so for him to discern the
rocky sides and roof.

It was small, not twenty feet in diameter at
the most, and of a rude circular form. The roof
was arc ed, 'uggedand uneven, composed main-
1 of rock. rom several points Wilson could
detect a lighter ray than common, and he knew
that there Were numerous crevices leading to the
outer world, by which the fresh air could gain
entrance, although so crooked that no use could
be made of them to gain a. shot at those within.
Thus it would be an utter impossibility for the
cave to be filled completely with smoke, or
even sufficient to smother its inmates.

The three women were huddled together upon
the rocky floor, at the further extremity of the
den, trembling with apprehension. Wilson ap-

roached them, and tried to relieve their fears
Ey repeating the assurances of Tobe Castor. At
this they brightened up a little, but only tem-
porar ly.

A low whistle from Castor now drew \Vilson
to the entrance, where he was cautioned to si-
lence by a finger warningly upheld by the old
scout. Listening intently, the settler fancied he
fiould hear the sound of cautious footsteps ever-

end.

Nothing was to be seen upon the plain be-
yond, save the dead savages. All was quiet at
the entrance of the defile, but still the besieged
knew that trouble was brewing. And they
nerved themselves to meet it as best they could.

“Ready, he s,” muttered Tobe, drawing back
a little, unti beneath the projecting shelf.
“The ’l'e comiu’ now 1”

An the next moment confirmed his asser-
tion, for with loud yells several dark figures
sprung down from the ledge, alighting in the
midst of the bushes. There, are they could rc-
cover themselves, the afl’ray began.

The pale-faces had the advantage of. adnrk
background, While their foes were quite plainly
revealed, and as the revolvers began to play
rapidly, wild yells of rage and death agony told
how true was their aim.

And then, from the prairie be 0nd, came the
sounds of rushing feet, and the 5 ill war-whoop
of the savage Sioux, telling of a simultaneous
onset deadly and determined.

CHAPTER XII.
VEXIT DUSKYI

IT was a thrilling moment. Death stared the
borderers full in the face, yet they did not flinch.
To do so would be annihilation, and full well

e knew that.
“11‘ng enemy who had sprung down from above,
had probably hoped to take them by surprise,
being ignorant of the emsteuce of the cave, and
thus hold them at bay until the others could ep—

roach from the defile below, 1‘0 deal the finish-
111g stroke. But in this they had counted Wlth-
out their host. and the ready W10“. 0f the bor-
derers speedily foiled their calculations. .
scarcely bad the gavages regained their feet

 

 

  

from the leap, than they were down in; this
time for good. hree revolvers ma 6 quick
work, especially when the targets are at barely
more than arm‘s length. and held by desperate
men, who are fighting for their own lives, as
well as those of ones even more dear to them.

Thus before those comlug from the defile could
reach the bushes. the first portion of the drama
was over. F'our dead or disabled forms lay
there; but where were the fugitive pale-faces?
They speedily received the answer to this natural
query.

“ Back inside the hole, boys,” uttered Tobe.
“ Back, or we’re gene! We must keep ’em from
gittin’ inside."

And then at the mouth of the cave, but upon
either side, where their bodies were rtly
shielded by the jagged rocks, although w era a
shot could be aimed without, it necessary.
crouched the three men, stemly defiant. And
thus, with tightly—compressed li they awaited
the assault. their rifles and h —empty pistols
ready for instant use.

Thus they were, when the savages reached the
bushes and parted them. Scarcely had the en-
em time to note the mouth of the cave, thus
lair bare, when a simultaneous report rung out,
and three rifle—bullets tore their way through
the living mass.

The Indians staggered and fell back involun:
tarily, but not until a second salute was given
them. And then, despite the curses of Dusky
Dick, the entire party of survivors turned and
fled in dismay, not even pausing to remove their
dead and d iglg.

The be .ier . fearing a ruse, did not emerge,
and then usky Dick once more succeeded in
gaining cover in safety. And then while one
kept guard. the other two borderers hastily re-
charged the weapons, that had stood them in
such good stead.

For at least two hours after this signal repulse
not a sound betrayed the proximity of a foeman,
but the old scout knew that the bushes screening
the cave—entrance were under the range of keen
eyes, whose owners would be only too glad of the
chance to guide a bullet or an arrow into any '
one of the besieged who might chance to e
himself. And he was too wise to allow either or
his comrades to commit an action that might
change the whole situation.

Then there came an interruption. The sound
of a human voice was heard; the voice of a white
man, for the words were accented in a manner
that no Indian could attain.

“ Hollow thar. ou Wilson!”

“ It is Dusky Dick,” muttered Tobe Castor.

“ What can he want! Shall I answer him 3”

-“Yas—but don’t show yourself. ’Twon’t do
no harm to hear what the cus hes to say, as I
knows on,” slowly returned the scout.‘

“Hallo yourself! What is it you want with
me, Dusky Dick?”

“ I want to have a quiet talk with you. and '
see if we can’t come to some sort 0’ terms. Will
I be safe if I come out thar? It’s too fur away
to talk from here.”

“ Tell him yas—ef he comes alone,” said Tobe,
in reply to the glance of Wilson. I

“ Yes. Come out, and if you act on the sdunra
you ha’n’t be hurt. But come alone, and mind ’

   

30 Dusky Dick’s Doom.

L.

you, don’t let any of your redekinned devils W
to crawl up on us, or who a dead man. 9
can see all over from ere.”

After a few moments’ silence, the renegade
arose from behind his covert, and strode toward
the cave-entrance. Although he bore weapons,
the;r were held carelessly, as if not for use.

‘ Hold on thar, Mister Dusky Dick, called out
the old scout when the renegade was within a
score of yards. “ Don’t come no nearer. You
hain’t got the consumption, an’ ken talk that fur
I reckon.”

“ Tobe Castor!” exclaimed Morgan, in a. tone
of ' uneasiness.

“ Yasait’s old Tobe, fer shore. You know ’im,
. I reckon,” chuckled the scout, grimly, evidently
. l " pleased at this symptom of alarm.

' “ I did not know you were here, but it don’t

) matter. Who is the head man among you? You
a, or Wilson?” .

r r . “You kin talk to Ed, here. I‘ll sorter lis‘en.

Shoot off yer mouth now, lively, an’ then travel.

Your oomp'ny ain’t overly welcome to none on

us. D’ye hear?"

“ Then, Wilson,” added Morgan, not noticing
the insulting tones of Castor, “ what’re your
. terms? You must see there is no use in your
trying to hold out against us any longer.”
“Isn’t there? Your men didn‘t seem to think
so. a while since, anyhow," sneered the settler.
“ But We have been reinforced since then.

Sloan Young is here with his band, an(l~”

V “ You lie, Dusk Dick, durn ye. You’ll never
,l‘ see Youn ontel t e devil hes hls due. lt’s thar
you’ll fim him, for I put a eend to his trupsein‘,
this very night jest passed,” retorted Castor.

TV but Dusky Dick’s answer would have been,
was never known, for at that moment a sharp
report rung out from close behind Wilson, and
with a choking groan the doomed renegade
swa ed feebly to and fro for a moment, then
’ sun to the ground.

., Quickly turning, the two borderers beheld the

“strangely convulsed features of their young com-
rade, J ohn Stevens, as he glared out upon the
dead man, the smoke still issuin from his rifle-

 muzule. The peculiarglcam in is eyes told he
a; r was half-crazed

,' _ The reproaches of the old scout died awa
J‘x . upon'his lips, for the young settler then sun {
-' back, pale and breathless, his i’ea“ures stran ely
distorted. He WHS in a fit, probably hrough on
bv the terrible trials of mind, added to the deed
of vengeance he had just accomplished.

' The Sioux uttered frightful yells of anger at
the death of their chief, but did not venture
from their covert. They had already received
a sufficiency of the pale—faces’ favors at close
. a , uarters, and had evidently resolved to await

‘ ‘, ,t a slower but more sure process of starvation.

‘ It was some little time before John recovered
. a from his convulsion, as there was no water to
 v ‘ aid in his restoration, and then he. lay back, only
i ‘ half conscious, as weak as a child.

As the time were on, the besieged began to
suffer from want of water. Their hunger had
been appeased, but it only seemed to increase
their thirst; And yet there was not a single
drog to be had. -

’ T» sir prospects looked gloomy indeed, for if
r  they beganto softer thuaearly what would they
. , r , , ‘ l

 

 

 

 

 

be forced to endure, were they closely besi ed,
as there seemed no doubt they would be? van
Castor became gloomy and despondent. /

Thus the hours rolled by, without any demon-
strations from the Sioux, save occasionally a
rifle—shot that either flattened harmlessly outs1de,
or else spent its force against the walls of the
cave, without injury to the occupants.

But when the shades of night fell, the Indians
built several fires upon the prairie, around the
besieged, and though at some little distance, yet
close enough to guard against their stealing
forth from their retreat unobserved. They
made no attempt to surprise the cave inmates,
and well for them that they did not, for both
Castor and Wilson kept unceasing watch, with
weapons in readiness to repel the assault, in case
it should come. ‘

But toward morning, when the gray light in
the east gave warning of the coming sun, there
arose a fearful tumult without, awakening the
sleeping women, who uttered loud cries of af
fright. And for a moment the two sentinels
were confused.

But the truth flashed upon their minds. They
knew they were saved!

“Hooray! they’re jest more’n ketchin’ itl’l

yelled Castor, as he sprung forth from the cave,
uttering his wild war-cry; and then, closely fol-
lowed by Wilson, he dashed into the thick of the
mace.

They were indeed. rescued, and by the aid of
Fred Wilson. When that worthy so abruptly
turned from the chase, he knew the plans of
Tobe Castor. He remembered the bear’s den,

and saw that the fugitives were heading directly

toward it. Here he knew they could stand a
pretty tough siege, and so he resolved to speed
at once to the settlements, raise a force sufficient
to rescue them, and return speedily,

He succeeded in reaching Hutchinson, where
he told his story, and found no difficulty in rais—
in a squad of men‘suflflcient for his purpose. In
h: f an h’Our after his arrival, he was on the
back track. and by hurrying on atrfull s eed, he
arrived in time to surprise the Indians, t a most
of whom were sleeping. ‘

The onslaught was eadly, and but few of the
war-party escaped to tell the tragic tale. Then
the stray horses were hunted up, and upon these
the women and John were placed. when the party

retraced their steps to the settlement.

Dusky Dick had been somewhat premature in
his attack, as the general uprising did not take
place for two days after, and the result of that is

familiar to all readers.

Tobe Castor, John Stevens and Fred Wilson
did good service in the cause, and assed un-
harmed through the ordeal.
buried the remains of the unfortunate settler
and his wife, near the ruins of their former
home. ,

Within a year after the events recorded, there

council :1 double wedding at St. Paul, in which
Annie and Jennie, John and Fred were the
principal actors, though an outsider would have

thought Tobe Castor divided the honors pretty *

ually with them. That he “jest more’n spread
hisself,” upon the occasion, we have his own
word for. ‘ . '
THE END. '

They ound and ‘

 

.: to»? was: 

 

 

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‘1




A A“ 

 

'i
1

 

 

 

1 Deerhnnter, the wy Scent oi the Great North Woods.
By 011 Coomer.

” Buflnlo Bill, from Boyhoon stnhood. By Col. Pren-
tiss lnlrnhiun.
3 Kit Car-Mn, King o(Guidu. By Albert W. Aiken.

4 Gordon Lillie, the Boy-Interpreter oithe Pawnees. By
Minion H. B. Stoddard.

5 Bruin Adnmn, Old Grlley’s Boy Pnrd. By Colonel
Prentiss lugrnhnm.

6 Deadwood Dick as aBoy. By Edward L. Wheeler.

7 \Vild Bill, ths Pistol Prince. By Colonel Pruntlu
lngrnhnin.

S The PrnlI-ie Rom-h. EV Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

9 Rovlpngt Joe: The History oia “ Border Buy." By A.
. 0! .

10 Texas Jack. the Mustang King. By Colonel Prentlu
lngrnhnin.

ll Charley Skylark. A Sta 0! School-day Scrape: and
College Capers. By Major . B. Stoddard.

12 Mnripona Mari-h. By Joseph E. Bridger, Jr.

13. Roving Ben. By John J. Marshall.

14. Svrinz Steel, King of the Bnnh. By J. E. Bridger, Jr.

15 ingfi-‘I‘hwnke George, the Boy Pioneer. By Edwsrd
i e

16 The Boy “'izunl. . Bv Barry Ringgolcl.

V 1‘? Peter l'e pcrgrans, the Greenhorn from Gotham. By
Nuuh Nut r

18 Adrift on the Prairie, and Amateur Hunters
on the Buil'ulo Range. By Oil Common.

19 The Fortune limiter; or, Roving Joe on Minor,
Cowboy, Trapper and Hunter. I By A. <1. Post.

20 Trapper Tom, the Wood imp. By T. C. Hnrbnugh.

21 Yellow llnir. the Boy Cliicl‘oi the Pawns“. By Col.
Prentiss ingrnhmn.

22 The Snow Trnll. By T. C. Harbnugh. '
23 0:9 Gfllzzly Adams, the Beer Tamer. By Dr. Frank
owe .

24 Woodn and “'atern. By Cnpt. Frederick “'hitmker.

25 A Rolling: Stone: incidents in the Career on Sen and
Land oi Col. Prentiss lnurnhnm. By “'m. R. Eysur,

26 Red River Rovers. By C. Dunning Clark.

8‘? Plaza and Plain; or. Wild Adventures of“Bnckslrin
Sam." (MJj. Sum. S. Hall.) By Col. P. Ingrnhsm.

28 The Sword Prim-e. The Romantic Life of Col. Mon-
stery. By Cupt. Frederick Whittmer.
29 Snow-Shoe Torn. By T. C. llnrhnugh.

80 Paul de Lucy, the French Benet Charmer. By c,
Dunning Clark.

81 Round the Camp Flre. By Joseph E. Bldger, Jr.

82 “’hlte Beaver, the Indlnn Medicine Chief. By Col.
Prentiss lngmhnm.

38 The Boy Crusader. By Chpt. Fred. Whittnhpr.

84 The Chase oi' the GrentWhlte stag, Ind, 0am];
nnd Canoe. By C. Dunning Clnrk.

85 old Tar Knuckle and His Boy Chums. By R. Stnrhuck.

36 The Dashing Dragoon; or. The Story of Gen. George
A. Custer. By Chg-t. Fred. Whittaker.

3’? Night-flaw]: Geor‘en By Col. Prentlu Ingrshnna.
88 The Boy Exilen of Siberia. By T. C. Harbnugh.
89 The Young Bear lluntern. By Morris Ruining.
40 Smart Sim, the Lnd with n Level Heed. By Edward
wmen. f
41 The Settler's Son. By Edwsrd S. Elli».
49 “(nit Ferguson’s Crane. By C. Dunning Clark.
48 mile and Revolver. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

 

 

D EVERY sew?“

 

44 The Lost Boy Whalers. 5v '1'. C. Huh-ugh.

45 Bronco Billy, the Saddle Prince. By Col. lnzrshsm.

46 Dick, the Stowaway. By Chsrles Morris.

4‘? The Colorado Boys; or, Life on an Indigo Plantation.
By Joseph E. Bndzer, Jr.

48 The Pampas lluntera; or, New York Boy- in
Bueuos Ayres. By T. C. Hub-nth.

4i! The Adventurous Life of Nebraska Charlie.
By Col. Prentiss lngrshnm.

50 Jack Harry and Tom, the Three Chmpion Brothen.
By npt. Fred. Whittaker.

51 The Young Land-Lubber. By C. Dunning Clsrlr.

5% The Boy Detective; By T. C. Harbnngh.

53 Honest llnrr ; or. The Country Boy Adrift in the
City. By Chur es Morris.

54 California Joe, the Mysterious Plain-man. By Col.
Prentiss Ingrnhnm. .

55 Tip Tressel. the Floater. By Edwnrd Willeit.

56 The Snow llnnteru; or, Winter in the Womb. By
Barry do Forrest.

5’? Harry Somers, the Ssilor Boy Mngiriui. By S. W.
Pearce.

58 The Adventurous Life of Cngtain Jack, the
Border Buy. By Col. Prentiss lngra nm.

59 Lmnq Tim, the Mule Boy of the Miner. By Charles
A orm.

60 The Young Trail Hunters; or, New York Boys In
Grizzly Lnnd. By T. C. Huhnugh.

61 The Tifier llunternfl or, The Colorado Boys in El.-
phaut ml. By Jose]! E.Bsdger,Jr.

69 Doctor Carver, the “ Evil Spirit ” oi the Plsino. By
Col. Prentiss luginhmn.

68 Black Horse Bill, the Bandit Wrecker. By Roger
Starbuck.

64 Yours: Dick Talbot; or A Boys Rough Ind Tumhls
Fight from New York to Csliiornis. By A. W. Aiken.

85 The Boy Pilot; or, The Island Wreck-r. By Col.
Prentiss Ingrahnm.

66 The Desert Rove or, Stowaway Disk Among tin
Arabs. By Charles orril.

67 Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger. By Col. Pnntiu
lugrnhnln.

68 Little Rifle; or, The Young Fur Hunton. By Captain
“ Bruin ” Animus. . u

69 The Young Nihilist or, A Yahoo Boy Among the
Run-inns. By Charles A orns.

70 I’onv the Cowboy; or, The Young Msrshsll’s Raid.
By Major ll. D. Em srd, EpScout.

71 Ruff Robsart and Ilia Bear. By Clptsiri “ Bruin "
Adnms.

72 The Ice Elephant. By C-pt. Frederick Whittaker.

18 The Young Moose-Hunters. By Willi-m ll.
Manning.

74 The Boy Coral-Fishers. By Roger Stubuclr.

‘ 76 Revolver Billy, th- Boy Rnngor of Tons. By Col.

Prentiss Inzrshum. .

76 The Condor Killers. By T. C. Harbangh.

7’? Lud Lionpcels, the Young Tiger Fighter. By Roger
Starbuck.

18 Flatboat Fred. By Edwsrd Willstt
79 Boone, the Hunt". By Csptaln F. Whitaker.
Beadle’s Boy’s Library In {or III: hy nll Now-duh“,
Iv. cents'per copy, or not by msll on rooaint of six out. ouch.
BEADLE AN D ADAMS, Publlphau,

9; William Street, New York

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eb E VERY $166?"

so Kentucky En, thaLong Rmo oi the Canada. By

Roger Slurbuc .
81 The Kit Carson Club. By T. C. llnrbnugh.
82 Little Buck lha'an Guide. By Burry Ringgoid.
83 l’ony Bolt the Reckleu Rider oi the Rockies. By Col.
Pranlin in nhnm.
84 Captain 1' ly-b -NI§1IQ. By Joseph E. Bridger, Jr.
85 03mm. liulp , tho oung Explorer. By C. Dunning

If .

86 Little Dun Rot-kn. By Morril Rmiwing.

81' The Menu erie Iluntern. By Mui. H. Grenville.

88 The Bo ramps; or, Life Among Lie Gipaiel. lly
J. M. i nfi'mnn. .

89. ’imngnhore Llje. Ry C. D. Clnrlc.

90 Roving Riflmuuuer’s Little Scout. By T. C. limbnugzh.

91‘0regon Josh, the Winnrii Kill». By Rogur Sinrbuck.

[9% Hurricane Kit. y A. F. Hall"

98 Jumping Jake, the Colorado Clrcuu Buy. By Iirynni
Bninbridgo.

94 Sum Spence, the Brondhorn Boy. By Ed. Wilieii.

95 Moscow to Siberia; or, A Yankee Boy in the nascuu.
By Charles Morris. .

93 Fl hung Fred' or The Cnsinwn 10! Grizzl (“am .
B‘y‘ 'l‘. c. Hurbuuéii. ' 5 y P

92' Cruise of the Flynwny; or, Ynnkee Boys in Clylon.
By C. Dunning Clnrk.

93 The Boy Vigilante" or, King 0010 Ind ills Build.
By Maj. l'i. ll. Siuddmil.

99 The White Tiger-n; or. Silver Ride, the Girl Tracker
ol'Lnka Superior. By Capt. Chariel Howard.

1.00 The finow-Shoe Trail; or,’l‘he Forest Desperado“.
By St. Georg: Rnihhone. ‘

101 Mariano, the Ottawa Girl; or, The Mylierionl Cnnoe.
liy Eilwnrd S. Ellil.

108 The FIynwafi Afloat: or. Yankee Boy! ‘Romul the
World. ly C. unning Cinrk.

103 Pat Mlliloney’s Advent-urea; or, Silver Tongue
the Ducoinh Queen. By C. LJEdwnrds.

104 Tile Bo Prnnpcetnr; or. The Scrrri, oniie Sierra
Ravine. y Roger Stnrhucix.

105 Mlnonee, the Wood Witch; or, Thu Sipmmr’: Sam-i.
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100 The Bo Cruisers] or, Jo- nnd an’: Big Find. lty
Edward \ 'iiieii.

10‘? The Border Rover-g or, Lon: on (he Overlmd
Trail. By J. Milton linfl'nmn.

 108 Aim-kn. ihu Wolf-Queen- or, The Giny Broihera’

'Duuhia Crime. By Capt. liownrd Lincoln.

109 Shgfigtian Jim, the White Maul: Friend. ByEdwni-d
. I.

110 Plueky Joe. the Boy Avenger: nr, Dick Belmont‘s
Lat Ridn. By .1. Milton i-ioflinnn.

111 The Border Gunmnkcr; Or, The Hunhd Mniden.

I . By Jamel L. Bowen.

11$ Len-llnnded Pete, tho Dbuhin-Kniie. ny mei.
E. Badger, Jr.

118 The River Hillel; or, The Fm onha FinLLoui. lly
Cnpt. J. l“. (7. Adiunn.

114 Aiqne on the Plains. ilv Eilwnrd Wilinii.

115 Silver Horn, and Ilia Rifle Firmionlh. liy finger
Sturbucli.

110 Exgoitn ofllezeklull Smith, the Barkwoodanmn.
By mamn Rodlnun.

117 The Young Muntnn err: or, Dick Marry’l Rang-
ers. By C. Dunning Clnr . ‘

118 Old Traps; or, the Boy Rlvnil. By Barry Ringgnld.

119 Canter Shot. tho While Crow; or, Roving Rifle’u
Fim Cnnipalgn. By T. C. linrbnugh.

“0 A not Trail; or, Cluk Clnvorly Among the Tartan.
By Chtrlu Morrln.

lfll Hunter P-rd Ben; or, Th- Wnlu-b‘u Blind Loud.
By Raga Smrbnck. '

 

122 The Enqnimnux’ Queen; or, The Mylhry of tho
Lona lint. By G. Wnldo Browne.

128 Tim, the Boy Acrobat; or, Life in the Circus Ring. By
Churlel Morril.

124 Queen Bennie, the BorderGlrl. BvHenry J.Thomu.

125 Tom Tabor, lhc Boy Fugitive; or,The Young Lynch-
Gnnz “ Wnivet.” By Burry Ringgold.

126 Mink Cont, the Death-Shut; or, The Spring of the
Tiger. lly J: a. E. Badger, Jr.

127 The Deer Huntern. By John J. Marshall.

125 “'oISLCn ; or, The Night-Hawks of the Fire-Lunch.
liy ('upi. 'm. Huwnrd.

129 S‘iificrnpur; or, The Muunialn Hurolna. ByEdwnrd
\‘i «ii.

180 Kcetneu, Quren o' the Plains. By Percy B. St. John.

13] “'lntnh, the Child Spy. By George Glens/m.

182 The Inlmld Trapper; or, The Young While-Bud‘qu
Iiunim. )4; Chan... Howard.

188 TI Form-t Specter; or, The Young Hunter’s Foo.
iiy Bin-uni \Villeli.

134 “'ild Kat, the Trooper. By Wm. R. Eynier.

185 The Silver “ugh-x or, The Indian Muidnn of St.
Croix. By Limit. ifo .l lile Lon.

136 The Prnirle Trapper. By C. Dunning Clnrk.

187 The Antelope Buy. By Gao. L. Aiken.

133 Long Shoi; hr. The Dwarf Guide. By Capt. (Tr~inyinck.‘

189 (Fololilcl Crockett, the Bear King. Dy Churlns E.
Aim“ 0.

140 Old Pom-11h: Mountaineer; or, The Trapper Rivnlu.
liy Lewis Vi . Curmn.

14.1 The Giant Hunter or,The Mud Scourge of tho
Rickilpuol. liy Hurry } uznrd.

142 liinek l’nuihcr, this Half-Blood.
Bridger, Jr.

143 Curl-on, the Guide; or, Perils of”). Froniier. By Lieu!

5. ll. Randolph.

Kent. the Ranger; or, The Fugitive: of the Border. By

Eduuul S. Elli .

145 Bill Rnbbiun, Hunter; 01.The Man in Green. By

Ednm'ii “'ilieli.

The Half-Breed Rival; or, Thu Tangled Trail.

8;: Jun. E. linriger, Jr.

147 The Mnnked Avenger. Hy Col. Preniin Inzrnhmn.

148 Nut. [he Trapper nnd Indian Fighter. fly Paul J.
Preaculi.

149 The. Elk Demon; nr, The Giant liruihern. By T.
C. llmhnugn.

150 The Roy Mllntang-"llnter; nr. Enuinlln, the
iieunlii'ni Amnzon. liy Fruderh-k Whinukur. .

151 Frank Tuten, the Young Trapper; nr, Mouninin
Kiiiv'n Warning. liy Joanph E. limiuer, Jr.

152 \Vfld Raven, the Scout; or, Blnncho, thn Overland
Mnidzn. My Oil 1 minus.

153 Lynx-Cup; nr, Flmr Trnppurn‘ Advrninrcn with in»,
Sioux. liy l’uui ilihhl. Randy Murch 19.

154 The Chum ion Texan Rider: (inked Buflnln,
thi- lir-rruira l unwr. By Hurry Si. Genrgu.
Rvnih' Mnrch 26.

155 D'mky Dick’n Doom or. Tube Cnatnr, ziiu Old
Scout. By Jon. E. Bridger, r. Randy April '2.

156 Frank Roll, the Boy Spy; or, The Mysimnul Box n!
Crylui Lil-kc. By Oil Coomes. Randy Apn‘i 9.

Beadlc’s Boy’s Library is for sale by nll Newsdualcrs,
five cenu per copy. or “M by mail on receipt of nix can“ each.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,
[)8 William Street, New York.

By Janeph E.

144.

146