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V01.  32.50 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams, F hm, NO. 215.

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65!: GATEERED UP THE LEATHER Conn. AND WITH A nuanmus THROW, CAST TEE: LOOP OVER
THE YOUm somnm‘s HEAD.

 

2 ' muscm' Rider Roy. ‘

 

‘ Mustang Rider Roy:

THE BRIGANDS OF TEXAS

1 BY ALBERT W. AIKEN,
AUTHOR or “KIT CARSON, KING or GUIDES,”
“YOUNG DICK TALBOT,” ETC., ETC.

 

CHAPTER I.
IN THE JAWS or DEATH.

ALONG the bank of the Rio Grande—the river
that separates the State of Texas from the Re~
public of Mexico—walked a young man. The
donble-barreled shot—gun carried upon his shoul-
der proclaimed him in search of game: the dress
of the hunter—the whiteness of his skin—told
that he was an American. Besides, he was on
the Texan/side of the river. In person the sports-
man was a tall, well—built young fellow ‘ possibly
livevand—twentyifyears had passed over his head;
his face was 0 the Anglo-Saxon typo;‘light

ellow hair curled in little ringlets tight to his

lead; his eyes were dark blue, approaching a
gray in tint, save when the sunlight shone upon
them; a. mustache and little imperial of the
same tawny hue as the hair graced his lip and
chin; his features were regular and pleasing,
and the squareness of the chin told of firmness.
and of self-reliance. For dress, the hunter wore
the blue uniform of Uncle Sam, and the single
bar upon his shoulder told that he held the rank
of lieutenant in the Army of the Republic.

It was evident that the officer was not on duty,
for he was without sword or sash, and wore an
undress blouse instead of the regular uniform
coat. \

The bank of the river was fringed with tim—
ber, and from the timber extended, inlund, the
prairie—u rolling one, fragrant with tall grass
and many-hued flowers, for it was in the pleas-
ant month of J one. '

As yet the hunter had roused neither bird nor
boost to test his marksmanship; still on he went

up the stream. At last he came to where alita

tie creek—mow nearly dry—ran from the prairie
into the river. It required but a moderate jump
to span it, and, as the other bank looked firm
and solid the sportsman determined to leap
, across. 80, norving himself for the effort, he
sprung over. The leap was a good one. and he
struck fairly upon the, low yellow bank, oppo-
site, and found himself up to his knees in the
mud.
‘t‘ The deuce!” he cried in vexation. “ This is
a nice pickle. I’ve got more than I bargained
W

' “He attempted to draw his logs from the mire,
and gain the firm ground. but, on making the
effort he found, to his astonishment, that he was
unable to move an inch; his feet and legs seemed
glued’id‘the soft earth. Then, to his horror, he
3 became conscious that he was gradually sinking,
and the truth flashed upon him-he was in a
quicksan’d. Though he had often heard of such

.q vote yet this was the first one he ever. had seen. ‘

Slowly, little by little, he felt the ground giving

( v

 

way’ beneath him, and it soon became evident
that, unless he could contrive some means to
escape, the United States Army would be one
lieutenant the less, in an hour’s time. '

What was to be done! No trees or bushes
were within reach. As a first expedient, he fired
off both barrels of his gun in quick succession;
the sound might attract some one to his aid, but
travelers along the bank of the Rio Grande were
few and far between. Some herdsman scouring
the prairie in quest of cattle possibly might hear
the reports, yet there was but one chance out of
a hundred if he would seek for the cause.

Inch by inch the young officer felt himself

sinking into the grave. He was, indeed, in the
“ {aws of death.” Vaiiily he tried to throw him—
se f over on his side so as to oppose more resis—
tance to the action of the treacherous morass,
but the quicksands clung around his legs with a
giant’s power.
In agony the young soldier groaned aloud. He
was a rave man—had won his grade on the
bloody fields of the Mexican war, then but a few
years past—had faced death at the cannon’s
mouth—had sought for it amid Canolles’ glitter-
ing lances—had escaped all the erils of the bat.
tle~fleld to perish now so horri ly—to be swal-
lowgd up in the Thaw of the bottomless quick-
san . .

The banks of the little stream, like those of the
Rio Grande, being- fringed with bushes, shut
from the eyes of the soldier the view of the dis—
tant prairie. Assistance might be passing at
any moment and yet the soldier, unable to see,
could give no warning of his awful position.

The quicksand had reached his waist; at the
rate he had been sinking, an hour more would
bring it above his head.

Desperately and almost Without hope, the im-
prisoned man cried for help. The prairie winds
here back the echo of his voice and seemed to
mock his despair. '

At last, hoarse with shouting and almost
frantic with agony, the young man resigned
himself to his seemingly inevitable fate.

Still he sunk. The surface of the quicksand
had reached his breast. The little glade which,
when he entered it, seemed so fresh in its beauty,
now wore to him the aspect of a tomb. He
watched with painful intensity the yellow wall
rising so steadily around him; be counted the
moments when those sands would enter his
mouth and choke the breath from his body.
The agony of such a death was appalling, even
in the anticipation of it. .

Then he thought of the wonder of his com-
rades When his absence should be discovered
that night; of the search that would be made,
and the fruitlessness of that search.

“I shall disappear from the world utterly,” he
said, bitterly. “ Well, there is none to mourn
much for me. Oh! why didn’t I fall in Mexico

loriously, instead of dying, here, the death of a

0

Then to the listening ears of the doomed man
came a sound rolling over the broad expanse of
the prairie—~21 sound that caused his heart to

beat quicker—411$ blood, almost stilled in its

flow by the near approach of the grim king of
terrors, to leap wildly in his veins. And what
was that sound—the sound that promised hope

 
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mustang Rider Roy. 5  8

 

and help to the death-encircled men? It was the
clear-ringing “ thud” of a horse’s hoofs striking
the firm earth of the prairie.

Eagerly the young soldier shouted, and the
free winds seized upon the hoarse voice and
bore it far away over the swells of the rolling
prairie.

The minutes were minutes of torture to the
helpless man. Would the horsemen hear the
gourd, or would he pass on and leave him to

ie

The sound of the hoofs’ beat came nearer and
nearer, and each stroke u n the soil raised a
new hope in the breast of t e sinkin man.

Then the heart of the young so diet leaped
with joy, for, on the bank of the little creek ap-
peared a horse and rider—the horse a cream;
colored mustang—the rider 3 Mexican girl of
surpassin beauty.

The sol ier thought at first that an angel from
heaven had descended to his aid, but the clear,
musical tones of the girl’s voice convinced him
that she was but mortal.

_“lSenor, you are in the quicksandl” cried the
glr .

“ Yes, can you aid me?” asked the soldier.

“Yes, senor, I can save you,"J

“ Howl” asked the soldier. anxiously.

“ With my lasso," answered the girl, and then
she gathered up the leather cord, and with a
dexterous throw cast the loop over the young
soldier’s head.

“ Fasten it beneath your arms, senor,” she
said. “ The other end is fast to the horn of my
saddle. I will then start my horse and pull you
out.

The soldier obeyed the instructions; the girl
started her horse with great caution, and, in a
minute or so, the young lieutenant stood on the
bank of the creek, saved!

Lieutenant Philip Wenie-for so he was called
——had looked on many a beautiful girl in the

course of his life, but never in his eyes had girl ‘

up red so lovely as the Mexican maid who
haHesaaved him from his terrible danger.

“ Are you hurt, senor,” asked the girl, gath-
ering the lasso up into little coils.

“ No,” returned the lieutenant: “ I attempted
to jump across the creek. and had no idea that
the shore was a quicksand.”

“ You are an American soldier?" asked the
girlkglanciug at his uniform.

‘6 es.”

“ Do you come. from Sante Fe?”

“ Yes, but some time ago. At resent I am
stationed in the little village you er,” and the
soldier pointed down the river.

“ Tacos?” asked the girl, in wonder.

it Yes.”

“ I did not know any soldiers ware stationed
at Tacos; I live Searcer a mile from there.” said

the ' l.

Tlgryoung oflicer could not repress a smile of
gladness when he discovered that she lived in the
’m‘igilrborbiqfidi ” h 'd ' 1 to h h

eryiey, esai,1nrepy er ec.

‘“ We came but yesterday." ’ Spa

“ And do you intend to stay?” asked the girl.

“ Yes; for awhile at least.”

"‘ I am glad of that!” cried the girl, quickly.

And the lieutenant was glad of it too, although

 

he did not say so. He alread was half in love
with the girl who had rescue him.

“Then you do not regard Americans as your
foes?” the oificer asked.

“No; why should I?” replied the girl. “I
have never met with any thing but kind treat-
ment from them. Besides I am an American
too, now, for I live on the Texas side of the Rio
Grande, and of course I must love my broth-
ers.

Wenie, as‘he gazed upon her fair face and
sparkling black eyes, in his heart wished
that she would extend a little of her love to
him.

“ You sa, you live near Tacos?" he asked.

“ Yes, on y a mile on the El Paso road. You
will come and see me, senor? My father will
be glad to welcome you. My name is Juanita
Torres.”

“ And mine, Philip'Wenie, a lieutenant in the
United States Army. But I haven‘t thanked
you yet for saving my life. Only for you I
should have been buried in yonder quick ,”
said the officer, earnestly.

“ Oh, please don’t speak of that," said Juanita,

blushing at the earnest gaze of the young (moor; .

"any one would have done the same. Besides,
my horse did more than I, for I but cast the
lasso to you, while he pulled you out; so you sep
you owe him the thanks, not me.”

The lieutenant shook his head gravely.

“ I’m afraid that if you had not come along
with the horse my chances of safety would have,"

been small. I assure you I shall never forget

the service, and possibly, some day, 1 may be '

able to repay it.”

“Now, if you so asingle word of thanks. I
shall be angry. re you goingto Tacos?" she
asked. ’ ,

“ Yes,” he answered.

“ Well, I go a mile that way with you, and I
will int out my father’s house to you.”

“ ith pleasure!” cried the lieutenant, de—

lighted at the chance of remaining in her ~

seeiety.

So together they proceeded in the direction of
the town.

The lieutenant had the greatest desire in the

worldto appear to good advantage in the 2 es V

of his fair companion, but, as he was covere to
the armpits with the yellow mud of the quick-
sami, he could not help confessing to himself

that he was not in the best possible condition to . , W
make an impression upon the heart of a. young ~

and handsome girl.

“ How came you to discover me in my perilous

position?" he asked, as they'proceeded slowly
along, the girl accommodating thepace of her
steed to that of her companion on foot. .

“ I heard the re arts of your gun,~and I
thought it was the athfinder,” she answered.

“ The Pathfinderl” said the lieutenant, in our» ,’ W ‘7

prise. \ I
“Yes, senor; Manuel, the Pathfinder, is my

father’s chief berdsman. He promised me some >

game for supper; so, of course, when ‘I heard
the shots I thought it was he, and thinkir‘gto
int-prise him, I rode directly where the Found

ame from; but there, instead of the herdsman,'_’

I found you." '

“ It was indeed a lucky chance that sent you  u

 

he, 7- v, 
.355}, .. . g 4.

4 Mustang Rider Roy.

‘

my aid. Another half-hour and the quicksand

, would have closed over my head. I shall never
forget the service you have rendered me,” said
Wenie, warmly.

“ Yes; but on must forget it, or at least not
speak of it. ou will make me think I have
done something noble, instead of which I have
done nothing but a simple duty. That is my
house onder," and the girl pointed to the left.
“Goo -by. Remember—come!” and the girl

, rode off.

Wenie looked after her, his heart in a blaze

with passion’s flre.

CHAPTER II.

THE EXPEDITION TO TACOS.

TEE lieutenant watched the girl until she dis-
appeared in the distance. bid from view by the
swells of the rolling prairie; then he continued
on his course to the villa e.

The oung man, like a1 other young men, had
tancievi'himselt in love a score of times or more,
but never had be seen a woman who had so com—
pletcly taken possession of his heart as this fair
young Mexican. He determined to follow up
. the acquaintance thus'so strangely begun.

In a short time the lieutenant reached his
uarters in the village, changed his clothes, and
Don removed all traces of the danger that ho

had passed. I

The village of Tacos was but a collection of a
few scatterel houses clustered around what had
formerly been the mission-house, for, like near-

, 1y all the Mexican settlements on the Indian
frontier, Tacos had been originally founded by
the priests—the men who, with the Bible in one
. * hand and the sword in the other, dared the

rile of the wildern ass to est:ibli:h the true
I aitb. But the Mexican revolution, which

r broke‘the Spanish yoke, did much to diminish
the power of the priesthoo l, and, after that
time, nearly all the frontier missions had been
abandoned; so that, when the company of Fel-
eral cavalry. sixty strong, filed by fours into
Tacos, they found that the old mission—house
and its adjoining buildings, with a few repairs,
would serve almirabl y for quarters.

Now then. what brought a company of United
States soldiers to that insignificant ‘ vollevl
True, it was on the Rio Granvle, the frontier line
between Mexico and Texas; but as there was
peace between the two countries. an “army of
observation ’I was hardly needed. Had you askerl
the soldiers themselves they could not have an~
swered satisfactorily, but had you put the ques-
tion to the officer in command of the expedition.

Ma'or Curtin, an elderly, gray~haired soldier, as
mainr by brevet, who had greatly distinguished
himself during, the late war, you would have
.‘ learned that the cavalry were there to watch the
“ Brigands of the Prairie.”

_ Who were they?

All alonrr the frontier, from the Gulf of
3 ' Mexico in the south to the boundary line of New

» Mexico in the north, ihere existed a. band of rob~
bars—men bound together by fearful oaths—
who depredated alike on Mexican and American
. sill. The horzes or bceves stolen in Mexico
' . would be hastily driven across the Rio (‘vramie

v tq'l‘exan soil and dispoaed of there; the plunder

 

secured in Texas or New Mexico would be
taken into Mexico and sold there. The actual
number‘of the band—that is, those who did the
plundering—was supposed not to exceed thirty,
but it was currently reported that they had con—
federates-men hi h in reputation among their
nei hbors, men 0 wealth and settled position-—
on 0th sldes of the Rio Grande. who aided the
robbers In their escape from justice, and as—
s1sted them in dis sing of their ill-gotten booty.
So formidable h this band become, so daring
their outrages, that they had received the title
of the Brigands of the Prairie. Indeed, on more
than one occasion they had met the Mexican
troops and boldly given them battle until the
stolen herds were driven safely away. It was
to watch these daring villains. and if possible
to bring them to justice. that the United States
soldlers had been dispatched to Tacos, in whose
vicinity. it was understood, the headquarters of
the outlaws were, while it was also a favorite
point of theirs for crossing the river.

Lieutenant Wenie had hardl finished chang-
ing his clothes when an order y informed him
that Major Curtin, the officer in command of
the detachment, desired to see him. ,

The lieutenant proceeded at once to the quar-
ters of the major.

The major, who was seated at a table, writ-
ing, was a tall, powerfully-built man, probably
fifty years of age. His fl ure showed no sign of
decay, and the iron—gray air and beard alone
told of age.

“ Sit down, lieutenant,” he said, indicating a
chair; “ you’ve been out this afternoon?”

“ Yes; you remember I asked permission,” re-
plied the lieutenant. '

“ True; so you did. I had forgotten. I sent
an orderly to your quarters about three.”

“ Anything particular, major?”

“ Well, yes, there is,” the major answered,
slowly. “By the way, did you go up the river,
as you proposed?"

“ Yes; I had quite an adventure, too,” replied
the lieutenant, and then be briefly related how
he became fast in the quicksand and was re-
leased by the girl.

“ Aha!" cried the major, “ that was quite
an adventure. Was the girl an Amazon of red
skin?”

“Far otherwise, and very pretty,” replied the
lieutenant, warmly. “ One of the rettiest
little oval faces that my eyes ever look upon——
not so dark in complexion either as most of the
Mexican women, but of a hue as thou h she had
been tanned by the sun. Then her air is as
black as jet; her eyes as dark as her hair; a good
full eye with an honest look; and then. in figure
she’s a little fairy of a woman, with such adainty
little hand!” - '

_ “ Why, lieutenant," cried the major, in aston-
ishment, “I should judge you to be in love with
the lady!” .

“So I am,” replied Wenie, honestly; “ that‘s
the honest truth. I am in love with her.” .

“ You learned her name?”

“ YeewJuanita Torres.”

“Ah!” and for a moment the major was si- '

lent; then he said, abruptly: “I know her
father, Juan Torres, very well. His house is
about a mile from here, on the El Paso road—a.

 

r. Wk“

mar“?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mustang Rider Roy:

 

wealthy man, and one of the largest cattle-
raisers in this art of the country."

“ You know in)?” said Wenic, in surprise.

“Oh, yes; very well. Before I entered the
armyI resided in Santa Fe; I was a. trader then;
this Torres also lived in Santa Fe; he andI were
rivals for _the hand of the same girl; she was a
Mexican like himself, but preferred me to him,
and we married; my wife had a sister a few
years younger than herself; this sister Torres
afterward married.”

“ Why, major!” exclaimed the lieutenant, “ I
never knew that you had been married. I never
heard you speak of it before.”

“Because the subject is somewhat painful;
but as you are in love with this man’s dau hter,
it is my duty as {our friend to let you now
with what sort 0 a man you will have to deal.
This Torres, like nearly all his nation, was of a
treacherous and revengeful nature; I do not
think that he ever forgave me for marrying
Inez—that was my wife’s name—and though he
had apparently consoled himself for her loss by
marrying her sister, yet in his heart I am satis—

, fied he cherished plans of vengeance against me.
A year ‘ , and the world went well with
me; an infant son was born; in wife, to my
eyes, grew more and more beauti ul each day.
I was as happy as man could be, but when my
be was some eight months old a terrible blow
tel upon me. The nurse, with the infant, went
out one afternoon as usual; the child and nurse
never returned. The loss of the infant broke
my wife’s‘heart—she sickened and died. This
sorrowful event, is the reason why you have
never heard me speak of m married life.

. try tokeep my sorrow locke fast in my own
breast.”

And the grim old major bent down his head
in evident pain.

“ And did you not discover the fate of your

child?”

“No, never,” the major answered, sadly.

“ Both nurse and child disappeared as utterly

as if the earth had opened and swallowed them
up. ’The search for them was long and fruit-
less. At last all came to the conclusion that
the name, with the child, had wandered too far
out on the prairie and had fallen a prey to wild
beasts.”

" And did you, too, come to that conclusion?”
asked the lieutenant.

it No n

“ No?” cried Wenie, in surprise.

“I belieVed that the child lived. I believe
that the chlld,now own to men’s estate, is
still living. I did no blame the wild beasts of
the prairie for the loss of my boy; I ascribed
the calamity to a human foe."

“ To a human foe?” cried the lieutenant, still
more astonished. ‘

“Yes. to a human foe,” repeated the major,
solemnly. “ To one who bore me a Secret
hatred, a. hatred that he did not dare to show
openly, but a hatred which he wished me to
feel. and so he struck me in my tender-est points
—my wife and child; he stole my child, and it
killed my wife. Could vengeance go further.”

“ And did you not have a suspicion an to who
that foe was?" asked Wenie.

“Oh, yes; during the search he was by my

/

 

 

side, thermost imtiring of all—the last man to
give up the child as lost, and then he piously
said that it was Heaven’s will."

“ And that man’s name?” asked the lieutenant,
anxiously, for he llflil a shrewd suspicion as to
what the name would be.

“Was Torres—the father of the girl ‘WllO
saved your life, and with whom you are in
love,” replied the major.

“ But had you any proof that he was guilty?”

“ No; if I had, I would have killed him with
mv own hand,” said the old soldier, fiercely.
“ The villain, if he did commit the deed, cover-
ed up his tracks too well for mortal eye to dis-
cover them; yet in my soul 1 felt sure then, and
do still feel sure, that it was his hand that dealt
me the terrible blow. After this occurrence—
as you will probabl suppose—I had but little
taste for busmess. gave up my store, and de-
voted myself to discovering traces of my lost
boy. For three years I kept a'steady watch
upon all the movements of Juan Torres, but my
patience availed me nothin ;no clew could I
discover. Then I gave my 0 ild up as lost, and
I sought forgetfulness of my misery in the
bustle of the great Eastern cities. Years passed;
the war came, I enlisted at once. I won my
present grade; and now you know the history
of my life. When, at Santa Fe, I was ordened
on this expedition, and 1 learned that Torres
had a hacienda near here, I thought perhaps
fate might place in my way, after this lapse of

years, some clew to tell me of the fate of my, > M

lost boy.”
“ Major, I hope sincerely that such will be the

case,” said the lieutenant, earnestly. “You
have my deepest sympathy.” ’
“I hope so,” replied the major. “You see,

however, what my opinion is regarding the
father of this girl. By the way, to judge from
your description, this Juanita must be strikineg
ike my wife, her mother’s sister; you can judge,
therefore, how beautiful my wife must have

been when I married her. and you can also

judge how deeply I felt the blow that tore her
from me.”

“ Yes,” replied the lieutenant, and in hil'own
mind be fully realized how hard it"wou]d be for
him to part from the beautiful Juanita, should
he succeed in once winning her.

“And now to business," said the major. '
O

“Have you any idea. why we are detailed for
duty here at Tacos?”

“None in the world.” answered the lieuteno ‘ h

ant.

“ You have heard, of course, of the‘Briganda.

of the Prairie?”
“ Yes.” _
“ Well, ,our present occupation here is to hunt

down and destroy the famous band of robbers.” ' '

“ Is it possible!” cried the lieutenant, in glee
at the prospect of active service.

H Yes}:
ant Williams the object of our expedition. Thi:i
of course, must be kept a profound secret, for,
these fellows should once guess our desi , good-

h to our ichance of breaking up t 8 band. 

rum information received at head uarters it

I have already explained to Lieuten; I l

is believed that the band have a re uge some- ’

where near here; it is even intimated that some

wealthy Mexicauin the neighborhood is one of _' 

6 Mustang Rider Roy.

 

the leaders of the brigands—not an acting
leader, but a planning one."

“But, major, how do you expect to detect
these felIOWS, for they Wil most certainly keep
quiet while the troops are in the neighborhood '9”
asked the lieutenant.

“Very true; but there is a spy among them,
who, if the brigands have a head uarters near
here, will most surely find it out. hose fellows
will not suspect that we are sent here to 0 rate
against them, and will not, probably, c ange
their programme on our account. By the way,”
said the major, suddenly, “ are you going to
visit this young lady whose acg’uaintanoe you
made in such a peculiar manner?

“ Yes. of course; I a ain confess to you,
major, that I am too deep y interested in her to
give her up,” said \Venie, candidly.

“It is but natural,” re lied the major. “I
was youngm self once; can understand the
feeling; but, enie, if you go to the house of
Juan orres, keep your eyes about you.”

The lieutenant looked at the major in aston-
ment.

“What do you mean?”

“ Simply, that if there is any man in this
neighborhood who knows anything about the
Brigands of the Prairie, I’ll bet my commission
against a bottle of wine that Torres is the man."
The major spoke in a tone of conviction.

“ I hope not, for her sake!" cried Wenie.

“ Don't despair; the daughter may not take
after the father. I hope, for your sake, she does
not," said the major.

And after a few more words the officers part-

 

CHAPTER III.
, THE GAY CAVALIER.

THE shades of night had descended upon the
prairie; all objects were wrapped in the same
gloomy mantle; the moon—pale mistress of the
night—rose late, and her silver beams had not
ye fallen upon the broad surface of the green

MUS.

p We will leave Tacos to the darkness and the
gloom of the still J one night, and take the road
leiviing north, to El Paso; but, are we shall
have proceeded amile or so on our wa , we
shall come to a large hacienda—that is, in exi-
cm. the house of a landed proprietor who raises
cattle—and that hacienda is the home of Juan
Torres, the wealthiest man for leagues around,
and the father of the retty Juanita.

The hacienda of orres was, like nearl all
the Mexican houses, a large, square huil ing,

‘ ' built of adobe—tho sun-burnt brick of Mexmo—

and in its frowning grimness resembled a fort
ress more than the peaceful dwelling~place of a
cattleraiser. -

The house was a very old one, and around it
quitaadeal of shmbbery bad sprung up, mak-
inz. as it were, a fruitful basts in the grassy
wilderness. .

The entranceto the house faced directlyto
the road, though a hundred paces from it, and
the apiproach toit was through a little lane
fringe with half-grown trees and full—grown
bushes. -

As we have said, the night was very dark,

and as the windows of the hacienda—Mexican .

 

fashion—looked only on the square court- ard
in the center of the building, no rays of ight
came from the house to illumine the darkness
that surrounded it.

th, in the darkness, close to the house, he—
neath the shadow of snme little trees, as if seek-
ing concealment more than the inky blackness
of the night afforded, stood two persons engaged
in earnest conversation—one a man, the other a
woman.

The woman was but a slender girl of eighteen,
yet lithe and graceful in form as the bending
willow; the tint of the pure oval face wasa
rich brown, as though the hot prairie sun had
kissed her oft and passionately; her eyes'ajet
black, eyes full of passion—full of fire: her hair
as dark as the hue 0f the raven’s wing; her lips
little, pouting and exquisite in their color an
dewy freshness; her form, perfection itself—-
that ofa girl just budding into womanhood;
even the coarse garments that she were could
not disguise the matchless beauty of her perfect
form, and yet, this beautiful creature was a
peon girl, but one degree removed from'a slave!

These peons form a large proportion of the in-
habitants of all the Mexican frontier towns.
They are the descendants of the Indians, civiliz-
ed and tamed by theJnission priests—the free
spirit of the savage degraded to the menial
offices of the slave. Thus it comes that the
peons are the drudges of the Mexicans. And
this lovely girl was one of that degraded race.
She was the waiting-maid of Juanita, and by
name was called Rita.

And the man that stood b her side, holding
secret converse with her, shie ded from observa-
tion by the inky mantle of the night—who was
he? Notapeon, for the whiteness of the fea-
tures—could we See them in the darkness—and
the richness of his attire, would uickly prove
that. No, he wasa Mexican, an , judgin by
his garb, a wealthy one, for his embroi ered
gantaloons are of the finest cloth, his yellow

outs of the softest and best of leather, the frill-
ed white shirt that covers his manly chest is
made of the finest linen, the jacket is as richly
ornamented as the pantaloons, his broad-brim-
med sombrero is trimmed with gold lace, and
the handsome striped shawl cast carelessly over
his left shoulder as not a superior in price in
all the broad lands of Mexico. The face of the

oung man—for he was young in years, scarce-
y reaching twenty-five—wasa handsome one,
save that his full lips had sometimes a gecullar
curl, and his dark-gray eyes—almost lack in
hue—had an uncertain, treacherous glance.

And the name of this young Mexican, who
was so forgetful of the dignity of his race as to
meet the poem girl Rita, with love on his lips,
after nightfall and in the gloom of darkness?
He was called Roy Lara, a nephew of Juan
Torres, but hitherto a stranger to the hacienda.
of that gentleman, for, seven days before, no
one of the household, save the master alone,
knew that such a person as Roi Lara existed in
the world. Without warning e had made his
appearance; Juan Torres received him with
open arms—called him his much~lbved nephew—
and lamented that famil reasons had hitherto
lgept him‘a.strangerto ' uncle's hearth and

owe. ’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘Mustang Rider Roy. ' / 7

 

And in the seven days that Roy Lara had
spent at the hacienda of Torres he had done
much; he had shown himSelf to be one of the
best and boldest mustang riders; with the pistol,
rifle or knife, few men were his equal; and he
had managed—how, even he himself could not
tell—to make his pretty cousin, Juanita, hate
him, and her waiting-maid, the even prettier
Rita, to adore him. Hence it is that we find
hiuli now holding a love tryst with the peon
gir .

“ Oh, Roy, and do you really love me?” asked
the girl, yielding herself readily to the fond em-
brace of the young Mexican and holding up her
lips to receive his passionate kiss.

“ Do I love you, Rita?” he cried, passionately;
“ you are the light of my heart. Till my eyes
fell u n your face I never fanCied woman, but
now” feel that I am devoted, heart and soul, to
you.

“ Can I believe you?” asked the girl, striving
to see his eyes through the darkness—those mir-
rors of the soul, that are so hard to hide deceit.
But darkness hid the gray orbs from her view
and, had she seen them, they would have proved
the truth of his words, for they were full of
passionate love.

“ Can you believe that the stars shine when
your own eyes see them? Can you believe, that
the waters of the Rio Grande roll onward to the
ocean? Can you believe that truth is truth?
Then believe in my 'love.”

“ But I am only a poor peon girl,” she inur-

mured.
“What of that?” he said. “Love is not

' measured by. station. By Heaven, were there no

other way to win you, I would strip ofl’ this,
gaudy dress I wear and in a peon’s garb work
daily in the fields for your sake. Oh, foolish
child! Will you not believe I love you?”

“Yes, yes, I do believe it,” she said, softly,
clinging to her lover’s breast.

“ That’s right!” he cried, imprinting a kiss

1 upon her full, red lips; “ but do you love me?”

“ Yes,” said, the peon girl, softly.

“ Better than any one else?”

"‘ Yes better than my own life.”

“ An when I will it, you will fly with me?”

“ Fly with you?” she cried, astonished.

“Yes, fly with me,” he repeated. “1 cannot
make on mine here. If you love me you must
go wit me; you must follow my fortunes, for
good or evil, for llle or death.”

“ You are right: I will go with you,” she an~
swered. “ That will rove that I love you, for
if I o with you I s all leave in brother, the
Path nder, whose love has been al in all to me.

v Yet for your sake I will leave even him; I will

leave the whole world for you.”
“ You are an angel of a irl,” cried the Mexi-

can, “ and now I am sure t at you love me.”

“ You shail see that I do,” she said, earnestly.

“ I shall arrange matters so that within a
week or so I can make you mine. I do not
think any one in the hacienda has any suspicions
that we care for each other.”

“ I am afraid my brother has,” she replied.

“Ah, indeed! What makes you think so?" he
asked, anxiously.

“ I noticed this afternoon that he seemed to bi,
watching us, and that Was the reason that l

 

avoided you. My brother has a hot temper, and
if be suspected our love and thought you‘meant
me wrong, he would kill you, for he is as fierce in
anger as a cougar,” said the girl, still clinging
to the breast of her lover.

“ He is different, then, from peons generally;
they are not given to brave deeds,” replied t 3
Mexican.

“My brother is not like a peon,” the 'rl
answered. “ He has never worked in the fie ds,
but has always roamed over the prairies.
He is called the Pathfinder, for he knows the
land for many a league. He is expert in the use
of all weapons, and so brave that even the
Comaiiches fear him.”

“There is no danger,” replied Roy. “I will
arrange your flight so that no one will suspect
that ' had a hand in it; and then, far away
from this spot,‘we will find happiness—happiness
such as mortals seldom enjoy on earth.”

“And you will always love me?“ asked the
girl.

“ Always l” he returned, passionately, and
sealed the pledge with a kiss upon the red lips so
fondly upturned to his.

Then, steps approaching up the little road
alarmed the lovers. '~

“Some one is coming l” cried the girl.

“Fly to the house, quick,” exclaimed the
Mexican. “ I will remain here; the shadow of
the trees will conceal me.”

“No! no! If it is my brother I must meet
him. Go quickly!” cried Rita, and Roy noise-
lesst ran throng the darkness to the house.

Rita remained quietly in the shadow of the
trees. Would she be noticed? Useless thought!

The new—comer, whose eyes seemed to have
the cablike faculty of seeing in the dai k, came
strai ht to her.

“ ita,”‘he said, “what are you doing here?"
and the voice told her that it was her brother,
the Pathfinder, who spoke.

“The house was warm; here it is cool,” she

answered.

“Are you alone?” he asked, suspiciously.

“Yes; do you not see that I‘aml” she said,
reading her brother’s suspicion in an instant.

“ Rita, I have something to say to you,” and
her brother’s voice had a touch of stemness.

“Well?” she asked.

“ This stranger, Roy Lara, has his thoughts
upon you.

“ Do you think so?” asked Rita, her voice be-
traying no emotion.

“ And you love him I”

The darkness concealed the start that the
peon girl ave at these words.

“ You 0 not answer,” said the brother, after

a pause.
“ What should I say?” demanded Rita. “It
I deny it, you will not believe me."

For I know it is the truth' my eyes, that ,‘

can read the dimmest trail on the prairie and
can tell where the wolf has passed, are not de—
ceived when the king-wolf is around in human
shape. Do you know why Roy Lara comes
here?” asked the Pathfinder. ‘
H No.” ' >
“ It is to marry Torres’s daughter, J uan'ita.”
“ It is impossible!” cried Rita. .
“ It is thetruth. Would toHeaven it were

 

8 Mustang Rider Roy.

 

not, butit is the truth,” said the herdsman, sad-
ly. “ She is far too good and pure for such as
lie. Alas! alas!"
“ What difference does it make to you?” asked
Rita. in wonder. . “ You are not her keeper!”
“ No, not her keeper. She is my keeper. I
v I love Juanita, myself!” and the stately head of
_ the eon sunk upon his breatt as he made the
con esston.
“ What?” exclaimed Rita, in astonishment;
“ you, a peon, dare to love the daughter of our

master?”
, “ Why not?" returned Manuel. “ Do not you,
w, a peon, love the nephew of our master—a man

that seven days ago you had never Seen—who
, may be, for ought you know, stained with the
blackest of crimes? Juanita and I have been
brought up together; five years her senior, I
have watched over her like a. brother, but, till
this man came to woo her, I did not dream that
~ I loved her. But now I know that it is so."
u I “My cor brother!" cried Rita, caressingly
passing or arms around his neck.
I “ Yes, Iam poor,” he returned, bitterly; “poor
in birth and poor in love. But, sister, remem-
ber any warning; beware of the love or this
maul

“ I shall remember, brother,” she said, as to—'

gather they proceeded to the hacienda.

Then, like a snake, from beneath the covert of
the bushes, crept a listener—a man who had
heard all that had passed—4a man dressed rough-
ly and poorly.

“ So,” he said to himself; “a sort of a trian-
gular love affair! Good! Ali’s fish that comes
to my net. This may aid me in some way. Aha!
Tie, the Rat, thou art rightly named, and must
have had the devil for a godfather. But, now,
toenter the enemy’s camp.” And with a firm
5mm the roughly—dressed fellow approached the
(1.10%! of the hacienda and kuoc ed loud and

us y.

 

 

CHAPTER IV.

run: LEADER or run BRIGANDS.
-. - IN his private chamber—lighted now by wax~
’5 candles stuck in massive gol candlesticks—sat
 the owner of the hacienda, Juan Torres; a man
well in years, yet showing few traces of age.
Small and slender was he in fiwure; his face was
of the true Mexican type, sallow and thin, lit
up by piercing black eyes; the lips—over which
curled a «thin mustache, black in bus like the
1- 1 hair of its owner, but streaked here and there
with silver lines—were thin and closely com—
’ pressed—lips denoting treachery and low cun-
ning; his garb was that usually worn by Mexi-
cans of the better classhfor, though the hacienda
« of Torres was situated in Texas, yet, like many
» others on the Texan frontier he ‘yvas, to all in-
tents and purposes, as much a Mexican as though
he lived miles westward from the Rio Grande.
The other occupant of the chamber was Torres’
1 v nephew, Boy Lara. Roy bore but little resem-
  blance to his uncle; his skin was much fairer;
 V, 2 he Was much larger built in person; the eyes
>1, alone betrayed the relationship.
v' ~ . ‘1‘ Sit down. Roy,” said Torres; “ I desire to
- _ have a few words of explanation with you.”
 _“I am completely at your service, uncle,”

 

 

Fr...

 

,chief’ who will act my will.

 

retibirned Roy, carelessly flinging himsclf into a
sea .

“ NOW, to begin at the beginning, we com-
mence about the time of, the earliest remem—
brance, which was when you were about six
years old,” said Torres, watching his nephew’s
face With his cold, glittering eyes.

“ Exactly,” responded Roy, with a look of
astonishment at the strange beginning; “ though
I don’t really see what you want to go quite so
far back as that for.”

“ Wait and you will see,” said Torres, coolly.
“ At the age of six years where were you?”

“ Living with an old peon woman, my nurse.
near the city of Mexico, in a miserable little
hove ,” replied Roy, with a. shrug of his shoul-
der, as if the remembrance did not please him.

“ That is right,” returned Torres ‘ your his-
tory was an extremely simple one. Slour mother,
my sister, married a man who deserted her and
her infant child; she died, on were left; you
had no claim on me, for I ha disowned my sis—
ter for her marriage. What would have been
your probable fate in this world had I not ex—
tended to you a helping hand?” and the eyes of
Torres loo ed searchineg in the face of Roy as
he put the question. 2

‘ I should probably have starved,” replied
Roy, bluntly.

“ Right; the chances are that you would have
done so, but I gave you my hand, and you
lived; therefore, you owe to me your life; is it
not so?” asked Torres. .

“Yes, I acknowledge the debt,” replied the
youn man.

“ 00d. Then, at the age of six, I took charge
of your fortunes. I sent you to school till you
were ten; then I sent €91! to the prairie to learn
in the school of life. on were an apt scholar.
When you were sixteen, few men on the iron-
tier could ride or fight better than you.”

“That, I believe, is true,” said Roy, honestly,
and without a tinge of boasting. “ I have never
yet met my master.”

But, to proceed, ever since fiou were sixteen,
you. have been one of the. rigands of the

rairie; ’you have distinguished yourself—”

“Yes, interrupted Roy. dryly; “so much so
that in head on the other side of the Rio Grande
is wort a hundred ounces.”

“That shows how dan rous the Mexican
Government thinks on. on know that, ten
days ago, at our ranc on the Rio Pecos, Miguel
Garcia, chief of the Brigands of the Prairie,
died.”

“ Yes, from an accident in the shape of a
loaded pistol in the hand of a drunken brigand,”
obscrved Roy. .

“ Such accidents will happen in bands like
ours. Garcia‘s death leaves us without a chief.
You are aware that our band in principle is a
republic; the next chief will be elected within as.
week; forty 05‘. our band have the right to vote
for that chief, and of the forty votes I control
twenty that I can surely count on.”

Roy stared at his uncle in amazement.

“ Why, then, that gives you the power to
elect the chief that controls our band.”

“ Exactly,” replied Torres. “ and 'I want a
Garcia was a hot- V
headed fool, who imagined that he alone had

 

 

 

 

Ci

Mustang Rider Roy. ' 9 '

 

brains; he crossed me once too often; the result, ,

his death.” r

Roy made up his mind that, of all the sco'un-
drels he had met during his career—and the
number was great—his uncle was certainly the
gleatest.

“ Well, uncle,” said Boy, “I don’t exactly un-
derstand what this has to do with/me.”

“ Simgly that I am about to make on chief
oflthe rigands of the Prairie,” sai Torres,
ca m

l .

“ Vlyhat!” R0 started, as if he had received
an electric shoc . “I chief l”

“ Yes; you are devoted to me; you will do in
will; you shall be chief of the brigands; I wi
be the brain of that chief. Is it a bargain?”

“ Yes,” cried Roy at once; “ I agree.”

“Now, for another subject,” said Torres.
” ou know it is my purpose to form a union
between you and my daughter?”

“ Yes; but as the young lady seems to have
taken a violent dislike to me, I don’t exactly see
how you are going to carry out the idea.”

“Roy, you know that I am rich?”

“ Yes,” replied the young man.

“ All I have will go to my daughter’s hus~

d”

an .
“ ‘Weil, I am perfectly willing, if she is,” said

R0 .
‘y She must be willing!” cried Torres, fiercely.
“ She has the stubborn spirit of her mother, but
I will bend her to my will. She must marry
on.
“Good; force is a great persuader.
she almost hates me,” observed Roy.
“ You have not tried to win her love; you
ling}: lbeen blindly infatuated with the peon girl,
- l

“The deuce!” cried R0 to himself, “what
sharp eyes that precious ol man has I”

“ Why do you seek this girl?” asked Torres.

“ Well, honestly, I love her,” said Roy.

“Yes, as a child loves a new toy; and, like
the child, you will soon tire and throw it
awe . -

I know

few opportunities formeeting, and not all the ,
persuasion and force in this world will make /
Juanita marry on.”

“What is to be done?” asked Roy.

“ As yet, nothing. When Juanita told me of
this chance meeting I told her that the visits of
this officer here ‘wculd not be pleasant, and that
I should not receiVe him. I shall instruct the '
servants when this officer comes to give him such
a reception that he will not repeat his visit,” said
Torres.

“Bravo !” cried Roy.
win the game.”

“ Yes, but we must play with loaded dice,”
returned Torres, coolly. “ And, to commence
at chee, tell one of the servants to send Juanita
to me. I shall tell her that she must lcok upon
you as her aflianced husband; and, boy, he care-
ful in regard to this peon girl, Rita. Do as you
will with her, but mask it from the worl .”

And with this sage injunction in his ears, Roy
withdrew.

“ Strange how I love that boy,” the old man
murmured to himself after Roy had left the ,
apartment. “ I love him far better than I do
my own girl; it is for her sake, I suppose, for
Heaven knows I hated the father With all my
heart.” _

The entrance of Juanita put an end to his r

meditations.
‘ “ You wished to see me, father,” she said, and
it was plainly evident from her manner that.
there was but little love between the father and
daughter. .

“ Yes, my child ” said Torres, looking mtentr
ly in his daughters face; “ you have grownto ‘
womanhood; it is time to think of a husband for
you. ’

Juanita trembled at this beginning. She had
understood fully the meaning of the glances

“Ah, uncle, we shall

that Roy Lara had bestowed upon her; and in, ' ' fl

her heart she hated him. Why, she could not ’

,tell, for he never offended her in any way, but

some secret instinct warned her against, him.
“ How do you like my ne hew, Roy Lara?”

 

“ hat’s extremely possible," said Ro , coolly; (inestioned her father, when 6 found that she  . 
“that has been the case with all my oves be- rid not speak. »
fore.” I ' ‘ “ I do not like him,” answered Juanita, hon-

“Be careful,” said Torres: “this girl has a estly. - . 1‘
brother, a stout fellow, who will probably call “ 1 am son for that, for he is‘ to be your
you to account if you wrong his sister." future husban ,” returned the father. ,

“ I shall act cautiously, rest assured," replied “ Whether I love him or no?” asked Juanita, , 4”

in amazement. . “

“ You are a foolish-child; you do not know
the meaning of the word love!” cried Torres, ‘

~ :2‘3fiwm,wflflmfik) M; '1 (if.

0y.
“ By the way, did you know that there is a
detachment of United States soldiers in Tacos?”
“ The deuce! no!” cried Boy, with a start. ~
“ Yes; a full company of cavalry.”

“ I know that I can never love my cousin 1” ex—
“ Can they suspect our retreat on the Rio

claimed Juanita, passionately; “I know that IH 

Pecos?” exclaimed Roy. hate him.”

“ No: there isn’t any danger of that being “Hate him!” cried her father; “why do you . ,
discovered. One of the oflioers seen hate him?" 4 I 
Juanita.” “I do not know,” replied Juanita, “ but his , 

“ Well, what of it?” asked Roy.
“She saved him from the quicksand by the
bank of the Rio Grande; he was sinking when
1 she cameto his did. She invited himto call
here.”
“ He won’t discover anything."
“Roy, are you blind?” asked Torres, impa-
tiently. “Juanita is half in love with this ofli—
cer, whose lite she has saved; give them but a

very presenco is distasteful to ma”.

“ D10 you love any one else?” questioned Torres, ,
quiet y. j“
A burning blush spread over Juanita’s cheeks ' J
and forehead at the question. ’ u

“ No, no,” she murmured; “ whom should I
love?”

“ How can Itellll’ said Torres. coldl . “ Young
ladiesof your age Sometimes take uncles into

 

   

 

y

1

 

\

 

10 i I Mustang Rider Roy.

 

their heads; but, fancy or no fancy, you may
consider your fate settled; within a week you
will be married to your cousin Roy.”

“ Then you do not care whether I love him or
do not love him?” asked Juanita, in amazement.

“ No,” replied Torres. shortlfy.

“And does he care as little or my feelings to-
ward him?” demanded the girl.

“ He loves ou, and will marry you, let that
suffice,” said orres, determinedly.

“ Father hear me,” exclaimed Juanita, all the
strength of her woman’s nature aroused, “  do
not love Roy Lara, and of my own free Will, I
shall never marry him.”

“ You are a foolish child,” returned the father.

‘ “ Go to your room; you will think better of
this; time will convince you that you had best
submit and do my biddin .”

“ Never, father I” cried uanita, as she left the
apartment.

 

CHAPTER V.
ran MEETING ON THE PRAIRIE.

Tm: next morning came clear and beautiful.
After breakfast, Roy saw in the court-yards.
man whose face seemed strangely familiar to
'him. The man was evidently a stranger; his
'dress was poor and well worn; in size be was
about the medium hight—in face a Mexican.
Roy called Torres’s attention to the man, and
asked who he was.

“ 0b, a poor devil who came along last night,
begging for work,” answered Torres, “ and as.
by his own account, he is a good herdsman, I
engaged him.”

It is strange how familiar his face is to me,”
said Roy, slowly, as if trying to place the fea-
tures in his memory.

“ It isacommon face,” said Torres. “It is
evident that the poor devil has suffered from
want in the past.” And so the subject of the
stranger, who was no other than the listener in
the bushes of the preceding evening, who had
called himself Tie, the Rat, was dismissed. '

After breakfast, Juanita mounted the horse—
the cream colored mustang—and rode off. At
first she roIle directly north, toward El Paso,

‘ 'then, fairly out of sight of the hacienda, she

made a wide circuit round to the south and rode

' -, toward Tacos.

What object had Juanita in this early ride?
She could hardly have told herself, save that in
her heart she had a secret hope that she
might meet the young officer whose life she had
saved, and whose image since that moment had

1 ever been‘ before her.
Riding briskly on, the town of Tacos soon rose
V before her, and then to her joy, gallopin up the
road from the town, she saw he youn euten~
ant, who, if truth be told, had rid en forth
that morning in hopes of meeting with the fair
_ Mexican irl.

The delight at the meeting then was mutual.

“ You are in the saddle early,” said the lieu»
tenant, as they met. ,

“Yes,” she replied, striving to conceal the
 which spark ed in her eyes. “ I love to
n e

, “if you will accept my escort, I shall 1be
pleased to accompany you, ’ said the ofiiCer.

 

f  I shall be delighted,” replied the girl, truth-'
u y.

‘ So, side by side, the lovers—for such in truth,
they were in heart, although their lipshad never
declared it—rode along. They turned their
course toward the river. and reaching it rode
along parallel with the Rio Grande.

_“Pardon me,” said Wenie, as he noticed the
slight cloud upon the face of his fair young com-
panion, “ but you do not look welll this morning
-——you seem sad; are you ill?”

‘ No,” Juanita replied, with a half-smile;
“but,” and she looked earnestly at the young
officer to note the effect of her words, “I am
going to be married.” ’

“ Married i” cried the lieutenant in despair;
{1515. his face showed plainly how keen was the

ow.

“ Yes,” continued Juanita, delighted with
what she saw in the face of her companion;
“ married to a man I do not and can not love.”

“ Why, then, do you marry him?” «

“ It is my father’s will; he forces me to it.’

“ Surely, your father should consult your
happiness before proceeding on a step like this,”
said the lieutenant, in amazement.

Juanita shook her head sadl .

“ y father cares vei litt e for aught else
but his own leasure. e intends to force me to
marry, whet er I will or no.”

By Heaven!” cried Wenie hotly, “'he is not
worthy the name of father. Is there no escape
for on?”

“ can see none,” replied Juanita. “ In seven
da 5 I am to be married.”

or a moment Wenie was silent; busy thoughts
were in his mind. Should he stand tamely by
and see this beautiful girl sacrificed, and she,
too, the only girl that he felt he ever had really
loved—sacrificed to a man she did not love? No,
he would speak, and win or lose all.

“ J uanita,” he said, and his strong, manly
voice trembled as he spoke, “ I have only known
you a few hours, but it seems to me as if
years had passed since we first met. You
are the first girl that I have ever seen that I
felt I could love with my whole heart. I should
have kept this a secret, but what you have told
me makes me speak. Juanita, I love you, and I
can not be distasteful to you. Can you love me
a little?”

The two horses had stopped, the riders were
side by side.

“ No, not a little,” replied the blushing girl,
“but, like you, with all my heart.”

Overjoyed, he clasped her’gently in his arms;
their lips met in the pure and holy kiss that true
love ives to true love.

“ ine! forever minel” cried the lieutenant,
as he looked full into the dark eyes that now
gazed so lovingly into his.

“ Yes, forever and forever," replied Juanita.

“ But your father will never consent to our
marriage,” said the lieutenant.-

“ No, never.”

“ Will you go with me, then, and become
mine despite his wishes?” asked Wenie, anxiously.

“ Yes. to the end of the world. My father
does not treat me as a daughter; why, then,
ziiloléld if” give that obedience which should he

S ue . ‘

 z w. .... .43“ Jewssz‘aazim: so.»

  

 

«i

_ 

 

 

 

    

   

 

 

 

anaesnxmuekuefi;

 

Mustang- Rider Boy. I 11'

 

“There is a priest in the village; he shall
marry us, and once you are mine, I defy all hu—
man power to take you from me. Can on leave
your father’s hacienda tomorrow 3. ut this
time without excitin suspicion?”

“Yes.” answered 1; e girl.

" I will meet you here. and in the interval I
will see the priest and prepare all things for the
ceremony. I must lose no time, for, if your
father or this favored rival of mine—to whom
perforce they intend to marry you—should dis—
cover our love, they may devise some plan to
separate us. Do you consent to this hasty
union?”

“ Yes.” answered Juanita, trustfully giving
her hand to her lover; “your will is my will-
whatever you say, I will do. But now let us}
part, that we may not be seen together, and our
plot be suspected.”

“ Farewell, then, beloved,” cried the lieuten—
ant; “ remember to—morrow.”

“I shall not forget,” exclaimed the girl, az-
ing with those eyes so full of love into the ace
of her lover.

A warm pressure of the hands, and they part-
ed; the lieutenant taking the road to the vil-
lage, Juanita that which ed northward to her
father’s house.

Hardly had she faced her horse about and
commenced her homeward joamey, when, to
her dismay, she perceived her cousin, Roy Lara,
on horseback, approaching rapidly.

“ Could he have seen me part with the lien-
tenant?” was the question that mentally passed
through her mind, and as Key galloped up she
cast asearching glance at his features, trying
to read his mind in his face. The attempt was
fruitless, though, for Roy’s face wore the usual
half—sneering smile common to it.

“ Taking a gallop, my fair cousin?" he said,
smilingl , as be halted his horse before her.

“Yes, ’ she replied, curtly, drawing her horse
off to the left, as it to pass him; but, with a
quick movement, he wheeled his horse around
and rode beside her. _

“ Homeward now, Juanita?” he asked.

“ Yes,” she answered.

She took but little pains to conceal her dislike.

“ I’ll keep you company, then,” he replied.
“ By the way,” he said, abruptly, as they rode
along, “ you have had an escort this morning, I
presume. Was that not one of the officers of the
troops stationed at Tacos, that 1 saw you part-
in?' with just now?”

uanita felt that it would benselesstoattempt
to di nice the truth. .

“ es,” she answered, ” it was.“

“ Was it the same officer Whose life you saved
yesterday, in the quicksand?” he said, carelessly.

Lieutenant~— By the way, what is his name?”

“ Wenie.” she answered, and then the next in—
stant could have bitten off her tongue for speak—
ing, for her quick eye noted the look of exulta-
tion that flashed over Roy’s face when he learned
the name of his rival.

“ Juanita, do you know I’ve half a mind to be
jealoust” he said, slowly. “ To see my allianced
wife riding alone with a dashing young officer,
and he, too, but the acquaintance of a day, is
not very pleasant.”

“ Indeed!” and Juanita'e lip curled in scorn;

 

“rm I your atfianced wife? sts not aware
thetdy’ml had done me the honor to ask for my
hon . r‘

The coolness of the girl disconcerted the re-
doubtable Roy, who was certainly not troubled
with bashfulness. *

“Your father arranged the whole-alfair,” he
replied, “ and I thought, of course, that it in—
cluded your consent; but to make the matter
fully understood, Juanita, I love you, and ask
you to be my wife.” . I

“Senor, I am sorry, but I do not return your
passion,” said the girl, coldly, “ and I must do-
cline your offer." _

“ It is your father’s Willi” exclaimed R0 .

“ You will find that my father’s wi does ,
not bind my hand!" exclaimed Juanita, indig—v
nantly, while the hot blood mounted into her
cheeks. r

“ You refuse me, then?" asked Ro .

“Yes,” replied the girl, firmly, “ do!”

“ Perhaps on are in love with somebody
else,” return Roy, sneeringly—“ perha with
this North American ofilcer—this cursed 'ngo! '
Let him beware how he crosses my path, for if
he does,’not all the fiends below can save hini
from my vengeance.”

“Threatened new live long, senor; possibly
the life of this American will not be shortened
by your words,” re lied Juanita, in scorn. ‘ y

“ We shall see! ’ cried the Mexican, hotly;
“ but his wife you nevsr will be.”

“Your wife I never will bel” returned Juan- ' r‘ '

its: all the fire of her nature aroused.
‘ That remains to be roved,” replied Roy; _
“ but for this oflloer, I wi take care of him.”

Juanita understood the covert threat, but she w I

had little fear; she felt sure that her lover was
more than a match for Roy Lara.

“ I shall tell your father of this stolen inter-
view,” continued Roy. _

“Tell what you Please. I judge, from what
little I have seen 0 you that it is like your
nature to play the spy; hut the interview was
not, as you say, a ‘stolen’ one. I met the oili-
cer, by chance, openly on the prairie. ‘ I did not

dream that my steps were matched, or that my 1 “
cousin would descend to play the spy upon my

actions.” ' - ,

The tone of the girl was full of bitternm,
and thedyoung Mexican felt keenly the sting of
her wo .

B this time they had reached the hacienda.
Both dismounted. gave their horses to the charge,
of the servants, and entered the house. Juanita
procé’eded at once to her chamber, while Roy
sou ht Senor Torres. ‘ ,

“ ell?" questioned Torres, when Roy entered
his room, for he saw plainly by his angry look
that something had happene . _

“Juanita has been riding with this (1qu
curse him I-upon the prairie,” cried Roy.

“ Ab Wand the brows of the old Mexicanng
dark with anger. “ How do you know?”

“ I saw them part on the road near Tacos,
and, judging fro the time that Juanita left the
house this morn ng they must have been to—
gether two hours at ieast.” ‘ I,

“ That is had,“ said Torres, musingly. “ Can ' I
this ofllcer be in love with her?” . r "w

“ Nothing more natural,” returned Roy; “ she

 

 

 

12, Mustang Rider Roy.

 

 

saved his life. At all events I am sure of one

» thing, she is.in love with him."

Torres started, and his face plainly showed
his an or at this intelligence.
“ at is to be done with this headstrong

'1' girl?” cried the father.

“ Send her away until we can arrange
ever thing for the marriage—send her to our
tune on the Rio Pecos. Let her go there at
night; he kept closely housed after she is there,

 and she will not suspect the, character of the

place."
‘“ The plan is good!"oried Torres; “it shall

“ be carried out. She shall depart this very night.

15'? expression appeared on his face.
'him this afternoon; he has come between me

1' iback.”

 This soldier shall be thrown completely off the

track.”
“Do not fear him," said Roy, and? pgcgliar
s a see

and my purposes; he is in danger.”
“.Be careful. Remember he has many at his

“ My mustang is swxft; I can easily escape.

I 5, No one in the village knows me; besides, I shall

leavs here to-night.”
Roy left the father to his reflections, which

‘ were not altogether pleasant, and went to his

,jr ,own apartment. There he examined the charges

’ in his pistols, tried the point of his knife, and
u; made all preparations as if for a deadly en-
" counter.

 

 

 

CHAPTER VI.
A sonmna’s WAY.

 '  hour of two in the afternoon found Roy

 Lara on his mustang and riding rapidly toward

'.\.

. ., house as he approached.

 Tacos. He had determined to execute speedy
2' and certain vengeance upon the young ofiicer
 ' rvwho had
tibeautiful Juanita.
':.’. Tacos was not without that usual adjunct to
,civxlizaiion. a little drinking-house; and to this

dared to come between him and the

Rely directed his way.
he house was a little, one-story structure,
built of adobe, but not in the usual Mexican

‘ fashion of a square, with a court-yard in the

center, for the windows looked directly upon the

w . street.

Roy’s Ewn'eye noted the surrounding of the
He dismounted and

' entered; his well-trained beast remained quietly

,5")-

; ff P‘and can you find a messenger

can, came

  where he had been left.

The little room that Roy entered was deserted.
He seated himself by a little table close to the

y “ window and called loudly for the host.

{The keeger of the house. an oily little Mexi-
ustling into the room.
“ Welcome, senor,” he cried; “ what will the

 senor be pleased to have?”

“Aguardiente,” (a Mexican 1i uor), said Roy,
carry 8. mos-

: -'sage to an officer of the garrison here?”

 

“ Yes, senor,” replied the host; “ I’ll bring

; :him to you.”

The host disap red, but returned in a mo-

; ‘ment, hringingt eliquor, and behind him an-
: father MexiCan.

, “ This is the man, Senor; he will go,” said the

host.

 

Roy looked at the Mexican, and to his aston-
ishment saw that it was the same fellow whose
face had attracted his attention in the court—yard
of the hacienda that morning. It was indeed
Tio, the Rat.

After placing the liquor upon the table, the
host discreetly withdrew. ‘

“ You are in the household of Senor Torres?”
asked Roy.

“ Yes, senor,” replied the other, with a.,

grin.

“What brings you here?”

“ I’m fond of liquor.”

The answer was sufficient.

“ Do you, know me?” asked Roy. A

“ That depends upon circumstances," returned
Tio, with another grin.

“ You are a sensible fellow,” said Roy, “ and,
at the present time, I am an utter stranger to
you; you never saw me before; you under-
stand?”

“Yes, senor,” replied Tio.

" And if, in an hour or so, you are questioned
as to who or what I am?"

“ I shall know nothing!" cried the vaga—
bond Mexican, who formed such a contrast to
the other.

“ Exactly! I see that you understand me;
you, shall not lose anything by it,” said Roy.

‘Now, will on bear a message from me to
Lieutenant enie, one of the United States
ofl‘lcers here?" ,

“ Yes, senor."

“ Say to him that a gentleman desires to see
him here on particular business."

" Yes, senor: I’ll fly at once," and the Mexi-

‘can departed on his errand.

“Aha!” said Tio to himself, as he walked
toward the quarters of the soldiers; “ what does
Roy Lara want with the lieutenant? I must
know." -

Roy in the mean while drank alittle of the
potent 1i nor, loosened the istols in his belt,
gnddsaw t at his knife playe freely in its scab<

ar .

Within ten minutes Roy saw a manly form,
decked in the blue of Uncle Sam, pass the win-
dow, and in a second more Lieutenant Wenie
entered the room. ’

Roy had chosen a position with his bacth
the window.

“ You sent a message to me, sir l” said Wenie,
addressin Roy, the only occu nt of the room.

When enie had received t 9 message that a
Mexican gentleman desred to speak with him,
his first thought was that it must be the father
of Juanita, who had, by some means, discover-
ed the secret of his daughter’s love, He was
surprised then, when he found that it was a
gpung man about his own age who awaited

1m.

“ Yes, senor,” replied Roy, in answer to the
officer’s question, “ I had that honor. Be seated,
senor,“ he said, motioning to a chair on the op-
gosite side of the table. The iieutenant sat

Own.

The table was betwoen the two men, the win—
dow right at Roy’s back.

“ Now. sir, your business with me?” asked
Wenie, unable to guess why the Mexican should
wish a private interview with him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   
 

 

 

 

 

 

Mustang Rider Roy.

 

.18

 

“ You are acquainted with a lady called
Juanita Torres?”

In a moment the truth flashed upon the young
officer’s mind; the man before him was his
rival.

“ Yes,” he answered; “ I am.”

“ You are in love with this lady."

“Iam too much of a gentleman to dispute
your word,” returned Wenie, bowing with mock
politeness. A red spot gathered in the checks of
the Mexican at this answer.

“ I suppose you are aware that the senorita is
engaged to be married?” said Roy, striving to
preserve his coolness.

“ How should I be aware of the fact?" ques-
tioned Wenie, blandly.

“ Possibly thelady herself may have inform~
ed on."

‘ ossihly,” returned the lieutenant.

“ Has she not told you i" said Roy.”

“ Ah, excuse me,” replied Wenie, with formal
politeness; “ you put a direct question; you
reall must excuse my answering it.”

“ n six days the lady is to be married,” said
the Mexican, feeling that he was getting an ry.

“Indeed?” cried the lieutenant, coolly. “ ho
to? Are you to be the happy man?”

“ That matters not," replied Roy, shortly,
feeling that he was no match in coolness for the
American.

“ As ryou say, it matters not," said Wenie.
“ Only was about to congratulate you, ityou
were to be the happy bridegroom."

The Mexican to t that there was bitter mock—
ery in the words so lightly spoken, and the
blood began to leap fiercely in his veins.

“Senor you must give up all thoughts of
Senorita Torres," he cried.

“ Must!” returned the lieutenant, cooll .
"That is a word foreign to me. But, senor, 0
you not think that you are proceeding rather
rashly? You come to me and an that I must
give u all thoughts of a lady t at perhaps I
never ve thought of—at least you have no
proof that I have indulged any expectations in
that direction.”

The lieuteth was skillfully leading the Mex-

can on, to see if he really had discovered any-
thin .
“ Enough that we have a suspicion, which in
our minds, is as strong as a Certainty,” replied
Roy, his hand seeking the handle of his pistol-
the movement concealed from the eyes of the
lieutenant by the table

“ We,” said the lieutenant. laying a peculiar
stress upon the word; “ and who—if I may he so
bold as to ask the question—does we consist of?”

“ Her father and myself!” replied Roy.

“ Ah, now I am sure of it!” cried Wenie.

" You are the gentleman to whom in six days '

she is to bo wedded. By the way, I haven’t had
the pleasure of learning your name yet”

“ My name does not concern you."

“ Oh, yes, it does,” replied the lieutenant,
“for I have an idea that you and I will meet
hereafter.”

“I think not.” said Roy, grimly. clutching
the butt of his pistol firmly as he spoke. “But

on have not answered. my question,” he con-
nued “Will you resign al thoughts of the

lady?"

 

“ First prove to me that 1 have thoughts of
her; then I’ll tell tell you Whether I’ll resign
them or not,” said the lieutenant ‘ocosely. '

“ You are jesting with me! cried Roy.
fiercely.

“Never was more serious in the whole course
of mg; life,” returned the officer.

M,«-sea',u.-

u on will find that this is no laughing r' :

matter!” exclaimed the Mexican, thoroughlyr i

angry, and only waiting for a favorable oppor-
tunit to put his plan in execution.
“ aughing matter?” said Wenie, with a '
eculiar look—a look that boded danger to the
exican; “oh. no! you will find before we are

through thatIam as much in (an-nest as you _‘

are.”
“ If you do not give up the senorita, force may
be used!” cried Roy. in a tone of menace. ,
“ Force!” repeated [Wenie; “ the very thou ht

that has been in my mind for the last V931,

minutes, and I’ve been thinking whether to,

throw you through the door or through the win-t» 

dew," said Wenie in his quiet way. “ You
need a lesson, and I think I‘ll give you one.”
“What! you give me a lesson, dog!" cried

Roy.
This epithet had hardly passed his lips, are the ,

firm hand of the American had dashed the ves-
sel of liquor full in his face. Half blinded with '
the drench, Roy s rung to his feet, but before
the Mexican coul

right on the jugular vein. Th h the open
Window went the Mexican, stunn ’ and senses:

less. _ . .
“ Well, he. did go through the window. after

all,” said Wenie. quietly to himself, as he looked;

on his helpless fee.

The host, alarmed, rushed into the room, fol; :
lowed by the Mexican, Tio, who, from the door- 

wa , had watched the scene. .'
‘ May the Virgin save us!" cried the host, as.
his eyes fell upon the senseless form of the Mexi-j

can extended on the ground outside; “the man .

is dead i”

“No. he's worth a dozen dead men,” replied?“
“Bathe his head; he’ll soon come

the officer.
to.”
And. giving this advice, Wenie departed.
“Bring some liquor!” cried Tin; “but first,
help me to bring him in. That devil of an

American must have an arm and fist like ;'

iron.” V ..
Together the host and Tio brought the sense- ,
less man into the house. <

After repeated applications of liquor to his,

temples, Roy slowly revived. v
“ AM my head!” were Roy’s first words. ‘;
“Santa Mariel" cried Tio, “shores couldn’t
have kicked harder ;” and 1181081: himself inad- f
miration of the deftly-given blow. ,  .v at
Soon Roy managed to stand upon his feet and. ,3
comprehend what had passed. 'For the first"

time in his life he had met his master. Terrible;

was the oath of vengeance that he swore. ,. 

Weak, and with his head swimming from the _
efl’ects of the terrible buffet, Roy mounted his,
horse, and, attended by Tio on a patient little:
mule. took the road homeward. Butonethoughti
was in his mind—vengeance: ‘ ' .r 

l I

strike, with a poweer blow,» v
given with all the strength of the muscular arm ~.
of the American, Wenie struck Boy in the neck, a

 

 

 

 

14 Mustang Rider Roy.

 

CHAPTER VII.

THE FLIGHT BY NIGHT.

ON the road to the hacienda, Roy arranged
his plans. First, Juanita must be removed from
the neighborhood of Tacos—removed from all
chance of ever again seeing the young lieutenant

, who had given him such a terrible lesson. Sec-
ond, Rita, the peon girl must become hisI and,
in order to effect that, she, too. must be removed
from the hacienda—removed from the watchful
care of her brother, Manuel, the herdsman. The
ranch of the brigands by the Rio Pecos oflered

a secure retreat. Isolated from the world, Rita

_. once there, there was but little danger of her
being discovered. Then, too, there were brigands
cnon h there to hold the ranch against a host,
shou d it, by any fatal chance, be discovered.

But who was to convey Rita. there? She must

have. as an escort across the prairie, one that he

could trust. Roy’s eyes fell upon Tic, the ap—

’ -1rently half-starved va abond, riding demure-

y behind him. And as oy looked upon him,

again he felt sure that he had seen his face
before.

“ What is your name?” Roy asked, suddenly.

“ Tio,” answered the humble follower.

. ” Tiol"

“ Yes, senor; by some of my old friends in
Mexico I was called Tio, the Rat."

“ Tie, the Rat!" repeated Roy; “ a strange
name! Why did they call you that?"

“Because, Isuppose, I possessed the rat-like
faculty of living upon almost nothing, and get—
ting it without paying for it,” responded the
Mexican, with one of his peculiar grins.

“ Have I not seen you before, somewhere?"
asked Roy.

A peculiar expression passed across the face
of Tie, unnoticed, however, by his companion.

“ Yes, senor " he answered.

“ In Mexicoi”

. » “ Yes, senor."

“ Where!”

“ Does the senor remember a certain New
Year’s night in the gigson in the City of Max-
ico?” asked the vaga nd.

“ Yes; ’twas on that night that I esca from
it; you then must know who I am?” sai Roy.

‘ Yes. senor; one of the leaders of the Bri-
I remembered your face

glands of the Prairie.
I escaped from the prison

the instant I saw it.
with you thabnight."

“ I remember now,” cried Roy; “ but you
were dressed then like a. gentlemen, and not in
wretched rags like these."

“,‘Ah, senor!” cried Tic, with a sigh; “ For-
tune smiled upon me then. Since that time she
has frowned upon me."

“ Well. since you know our secret, join us;
become a Brigand of the Prairie; what say
you?" asked 
t; I shall be elighted, senor," responded the
0 er. /

“ A brave future is in store for you," said
Roy. “ And now you can do me a service.”

‘ Command me, senor," cried Tio, quickly.

' “ Are you accustomed to the prairie? Can
‘ i '  find your way by night, with no other guide
x, ‘ ban the stars?” , '

‘_ “ Yes, senor," replied the other, readily.

g.

 

“ Do you know in what direction the Rio
Pecos runs?"

“ Yes, senor; it is to the east of us, almost
parallel with the Rio Grande.”

“ Right. _ Now the service I wish you to do is
this: there IS a led in yonder hacienda whom
wish you to con not to a ranch on the Rio
Pecos; the ranch is about a hundred and fifty
miles from here. I have a. rude map at home
by which I can show you the exact position of
the place. Do you think you can conduct the
lady there?”

“ Oh, yes, senor; without a doubt!” cried
Tio, and he could hardly conceal his exultation,
for he understood fully that that this lonely
ranch on the Rio Pecos was the headquarters of
the Prairie Brigandsl Tic-the Rat hada strong
desire to penetrate to that stronghold.

Reaching the hacienda, Roy, after warnin
Tio to keep his tongue between his teeth regar -
ing the expedition on foot, sought Senor Torres.

Eagerly the old Mexican questioned him con-
cerning the young officer.

“ I have not been able to accomplish any-
thing,” was Roy’s truthful reply.

“ Juanita must be got out of his way to-
night,” said Torres, thoughtfully.

“ Have ou thou ht of a plan?" asked Roy,

“ Yes; shall tel my daughter to prepare for
a journey to Santa Fe, and start away the mo-
ment the shades of night close over the prairie.

,That report spread among the household will

put this officer on the wrong track, it he misses
the girl and makes inquiries after her. You
must deport at once for the ranch; reaching it,
select ten or fifteen men and return to escort us
across the prairie.”

“ Where shall I meet you?” asked Roy.

“ At the old ruined ranch, twenty miles from
here, on the El Paso road. When I reach it to-
night I will halt, wait for your arrival, then
send back my people; they, of course, will think
that we have kept straight on for El Peso.”

, “ Excellent,” cried Roy. “ This North Amer-
ican will be thrown completely ofl? the trail;
but if he should happen to have a mountain—
man in his company—one used to trailing—he
might be able to follow us.”

‘ There is little danger or that.” said Torres.
“ These are regular troops, and the mountain-
men, used to the free life of the name, are not
apt to exchange it for the dog’s ife oi the com-
mon soldier.”

“ You will Wait at the old ranch till I come,
then?” said R0 .

“ Yes,” rep led Torres. “Make a detour
when you approach, so as to come from the
north—the El Paso way. It is our people that
we must deceive; they must think that we are
going to Santa Fe.”

“ I’ll to horse at once and set out i” cried Roy,
and forthwith he left the room. He did not go
to the stables. however: but proceeding can-
tiously, he entered a small room adjoining that
of J uanita—the room of the peon irl, Rita.

“ Where is your mistressr’ he as ed, cautious-

1y.
“She is sleeping," replied the girl.
" Good; We are not likely to be disturbed,
then. Rita, are you pro ared to fly to—nighti”,
“ To night I" exclaim the girl, in surprise. .

i

Q:
3!;
.1,
11
y;
l.

 

 

 

 

 

  

Mustang Rider Roy.

15'

 

“ Yes, to-night,” repeated Roy. “ I am about
to set forth 110w; that will remove all suspicion
thot I have anything to do with your flight."

“ But am I to go alone?” asked Rita, in won-
der.

“ No; of course not,” replied Roy. “Have
you noticed the stranger that came yesterday——
the common-looking fellow in the garb of a
herdsman?" .

“ Yes,” answered the girl; “ you mean Tic?”

“I see you know his name; he is the one I
mean. At nightfall he will be waiting With
two horses outside the hacienda, just be end the
spot where we held our last meeting. on will
go to him. Mount one of the horsesuhe Will
not as your guide and protector; you Will fly——
fly, to finally find shelter in my arms}?

“ Ah, how happy!” murmured the girl.

“ You will do this?" he asked.

it Yes.”

“ Be sure you are not observed? Then press-
in a farewell kiss upon her red lips he left her.

an his way to the stables he met Tio. To
him he explained the plan of operations, pointed
out the two mustangs touse, ordered his own
mustang to be saddled, and then, with Tio, re-
turned tothe house. In his room he gave the
herdsman a rudely-drawn map, and pointed out
the route that he must follow. .

Tio declared that he could find the road blind-

fold.
Then, satisfied that everything would pro-
gress favorably, Roy swun 'himself into the
saddle and gal 0 off, he ng his course ap-
parently for El aso.

Torres summoned his dau hter. Upon her
appearance he informed her t at she must pre-
pare to set out at night for Santa Fe. _

The words struck achill to the poor girl‘s
heart. Resistance toher father’s command she
knew was useless. And then, Juanita thought
of the despair that would come upon her lover,
when, in the morning, he sought the meeting-
place b the flowing io Gran e, and she came
not. Then the thought flashed through her
mind, could shenot convey the news to her
lover that she had been hurried off to Santa
Fe? Yes she could do that, and he might follow
and save er.

Briefly Juanita responded to her father, and
said that at nightfall she would be ready.

Once in her own room Juanita puzzled her
brain how to convey the news to her lover.
Then she suddenly thought of Rita, her waiting-
maid, and of her brother Manuel, the herdsman.
If they would, they could aid her. Yet, she
felt a reluctance to confess her love to her wait-
ing-maid, for, of course, Rita would suspect the
truth, but, for her lover’s sake, she resolved to
brave all.

Opening the door that led to her waiting-
maid’s room, she called her. Rita came instant-

y“ Rita,” said Juanita, a slight blush beginning
to bloom upon her cheeks, ‘
do me a service.”

“ Senorita has only to command,” replied the
mini girl’ Simply' to- ' ht—g ‘ to So ta,
‘ am oin awa nig oing n
Fe. Therg is gime age in Tacos ”———and Juanita
hesitated slightly—“ that I wish to inform of

g.

I wish you would

 

my departure. I Wish to send a note, and
neither my father nor my cousin must know of
it

.It was all plain to the shrewd eyes of the peon

girl: her mistress had a lover in Tacos; it was v

that lover that she wished to warn. The heart

of Rita beat for joy; it Juanita loved some one '

in Tacos, she did not then love Roy Lara, and
the peon girl felt that the oung Mexican was
all her own. Little did uanita realize, the
powerful ally she would have in Rita, in all
schemes, the object of which was tonnite her
and her lover.

“ Do not fear, senorita,” cried Rita; ‘l‘I will
speak to my brother and he will take your letter
safely, and no one will know of it.”

Then, suddenly, to the mind of the peon girl
came the thought of her brother’s confession of
his hopeless love for his master’s dau hter.
Would he then take the letter that might the
means of bringing her to another’s arms? Noi
no! Rita truly flit; that her brother’s interest
in keeping back tl e letter was fully as great as
hers to have it dilirei‘ed. What, then was to
be done? Suddenly she thought of the Mexican
who was to act as l‘J(I‘ guide and escort in that
night’s flight; he would take it—would imagine
that it was her own memage, for she need not
mention her mistress’s name”. Yes, she felt that
plan would do.

Meanwhile, Juanita, at the little table, had I,

been writing her note—the first note of love in
all her life. It began: I

“ MY OWN Dam Panam—

“I have just been told by my father that I must i

go at once to Some lj‘e. We start at nightfall. Ido
not know the meaning of this strange journey. I
think, though, that in some way my father has
learned of our love, and it is done to separate us.

r‘omezimes. too, I think that we are not going to ,

Santa Fe, but that I have been told that was my
destination, so that, if I contrived to communicate
with you, it might deceive you, and prevent you
from ollowing me
of my own free will. but because I am forced to. I
shall never cease to love you as long as] live, and
will be faithful to you forever and forever. Do not
give me up. but follow and rescue me from the
hands of my cruel relatives. ’
“Your Joann."

The little note was sealed and then addressed,
“Lieutenant Wenie.’ Rita, with the note,
hastened to find Tio. That worthy readily
agreed to take it. and an hour afterward‘Tio
was in Tacos. Unfortunately, Wenie, with a
squad of men, had gone down the river after

some stray horses, and so it happened he did not '

receive the note till near ten. Bitterly he de-
plored the ill~luck that gave his opponents such
a start.

At nightfall precisely, Senor Torres, his
daughter, and a large escort set out. Almost at
the same time, too, Rita and Tie were galloping
across the prairie eastward. . '

Major Curtin sat up late that night, carefully
examining a spot spread out on the table be-
fore him. Th 5 paper was a rude map: on it
was traced the courses of the Rio Grande and

the Rio Pecos The map was exactly like the

one that Roy Lara had given to Tie, the Rat, to

uide him across the prairie to the ranch of the .

rigands.

l elieve me, Philip, I do not go;

I

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

16
CHAPTER VIII.
THE PATHFINDER ON THE TRAIL.

TORRES and his party reached the old ranch.
There they halted until the next day, when they
were joined by Roy and some fifteen stalwart
fellows armed to the teeth.

Roy explained that the Comanche Indians
were on the war-path. and he had engaged his
escort in El Paso; so those that came with
Torres were sent back to the hacienda, and he
and his daughter proceeded on their way with
the escort headed by Roy.

The Pathfinder, who was one of those who ac-
companied Torres us far as the old ranch, when
he returned to the hacienda was astonished to
learn that his sister was not there. Those who
had remained behind had noticed her absence,
but had thought that she had accompanied her
young mistress.

The peon felt at once that his worst fears in
regard to his sister had been realized. Yet,
whither had she gone? That he could not guess.
Had he not seen Roy Lara at the head of the
escort with Torres, he would instantly have sus-
pected that she had fled to join him; and then
the thought flashed into the mind of the eon,
might it not be so now? Possibly Lara ha pro—

' vided some retreat for his sister, where, at his
leisure, he might visit her. The thought was
madness to the mind of the young herdsman.
He instantly resolved to learn the truth, to trail
the thing girl to her refuge; but, how bad she
gone? and who had she gone with? for it was
plainly evident to Manuel that she had not fled
ulone.

Then Manuel looked through the household to
see who was missing; all Were there save the
stranger who had come but recently, and who
had said he was called “ Tio, the Rat."

It was plain, then, to the Pathfinder. This
man was a tool of Roy Lara, and be instantly

‘ . concluded that it was all a prearranged lan—

the entrance of Tie into the hacienda of orres,
and the flight of his sister.

“ But they cannot have flown awayl”cried
Manuel to himself. “Their horses must have
left their hoof-prints on the prairie. I’ll track
them as the wolf tracks the wounded deer, and.
like the bloodhound, I’ll die on the trail but I’ll
run the game to earth.”

Brought up from his earliest infancy on the
prairie, possessing the Indian gift of marvelous
ear and eye—which even the deadening influ—
ence of the half—civilization that he had passed
through had not tampered with—the Pathfinder
could follow a, trail with the unerring skill of a
Comanche. '

, Burning then with the desire for vengeance
the brother proceeded to his task of mingled
love and hate. ,

Theprairie just around the hacienda had
been trampled over by so many steeds—the
horses of the cavalcade—that to find a clew to
the resence of the two fugitives Eves quite out
' of t question. So he went at onsand good

ards from the house; then he commenced to
race a circle around it, carefully examining
the soft green stvard as he went. Not a blade
of grass—not a wind-blown leaf from the shrub-
bery that surrounded the haciendar-escnped his

attention.

l.

 

 

r'f‘"

Mustang Rider Roy.

The Pathfinder had completed a. quarter of
the circle, when suddenly he stopped his keen
eye had caught sight of hoof—prints. Closely he-
examined them; ten minutes’ careful inspection
of the trail convinced him that it was the trail
he sought.

The herdsman returned to the hacienda, took
his rifle, a supply of ammunition, his horse
from the stable, and then set out upon the-
prairie trail.

Once out where the grass had not been tram-
pled, Manuel followed the trail easily. ‘

On pressed the herdsman, till the shades of
night came and forced him to relinquish the
chase. Manuel slept that night beside the
trail.

The morning sun found the herdsman again
upon the track, and ere that sun shone at mid—
day over the prairie, the trail had struck the
wooded banks of the Rio Pecos and had turned
northward, following upward the course of the
stream.

Manuel proceeded with caution; he felt that
he was on the eve of a discovery. Asudden
turn of the stream brou ht to his view a
large ranch—the house ’bui t of hewn timber,
and surrounded by a heavy stockade fence.
Evidently the place had been built to stand a

518 e.

i little log-house on the outside of the stock-
ade and near the bank of the river attracted
Manuel's attention, nestled as it was down
among the trees that grew on the bank of the
stream. yet it seemed to shun observation.

\ The Pathfinder concealed his horse carefully
in the timber, and then, on foot, taking advan-
tage of the trees and shrubberytoshield him
from observation, scouted in toward the little
lone house. He soon gained a position which
commanded a full view of the hut door. Harle
had he gained his position when from the door
of the Stockade came Roy Lara, and advanced
toward the hut. Every muscle in the body of
the peon thrilled, as, from his covert unseen, he
looked upon the face of the man who he felt
convinced had decayed away his sister. His
hand sought the rifle; the life of Roy Lara
would have been worth but little had the steady
arm of the peon leveled the long piece; but a

second thought restrained him; so he watched

and waited.

As Roy Lara approached the house, a man
with a gun in his hand rose from the bushes
near it—the man was Tio, who had apparently
been on guard.

“ Has any
bonse, Tin?” asked Roy.

“ No, senor,” replied Tio.

“ You are tired of watching, I an pose.”

” Yes, senor; I haven’t got over he eifects of
that night ride yet.”

“ What is the irl doing?”

How the brot er’s heart beat when he heard
Roy ask the question; for, from his hiding-place
he could both see and hear—nearly every word
distinctly. He had little doubt that the girl re-
ferred to was Rita.

“She was asleep on the bed, senor, the last
time I looked in,” responded Tio

“You need not watch longer," said Roy. 1

“ Go and refresh yourself.”

1
a)
.1

. ii
i

one attempted to approach the ‘

m. «5—,;

 

. ..__m...~.awr‘"" :

 

 
 

 

 

, own, to

Mustang Rider Roy. V 1'!

 

 

To did not wait for a second bidding, but
hurried at once toward the ranch.

Roy, with a careless glance around, entered
the little house, and the door closed behind him.

For full five minutes Manuel waited; then un—
able longer to endure the suspense, he deter-
mined to satisfy his mind as to whether his sis—
ter was in the house or not, whatever might be
the cost.

Cautiously he left his covert and stole round
to the back of the house, thus shielding himself
from all chance of discovery by any one coming
from the ranch.

Behind the house, fastened to a tree, Manuel
found two horses; he recognized them at once as
being from the stable of Torres, and guessed
rightly that they were the two that had con-
veyed the fugitives. ‘

Approaching the but with the caution of the
panther stealing upon its prey, Manuel discov-
ered a little opening in the timbers, by which he
commanded a full View of the interior apart
ment. The room contained Roy Lars and
Rita.

When Roy Lara entered the room, with a
scream of joy, Rita had flung herself into his
arms.

“ You are come at last I” she cried.

“ Yes, dearone,” he replied, soothingly. “Did
you fancy that I was never coming?”

“I have not seen you for solong.” said the
girl, sorrowfully.

“ Why, it‘is but a few hours since I had you
in my arms,” he answered.

“ The time has seemed very long to me,” she
said, mournfully.

“Cheer up, Rita,” he said, im rint‘lu warm
kisses on her fresh. red lips. ‘Now am by
your side, never again to part from you.”

“ That makes me feel so happ ,” said the girl,
looking up into hisface, trusting y. “ When you
are bym side I feel a paradise; when I am
alone I ave no desire to live. We shall be
happy now, shall we not?” she asked, reclining
trustfully on his breast.

“ Happy 1" he exclaimed, “ yes, as happy as
the day is long." Then his warm kisses again
grossed the dewy lips—kisses that were given

ack with interest. For the moment they were
peppy—happy in the happiest of all dreams—
ove.

 

The sudden opening of the door rudely dis-
turbed the lovers; Roy Lara was by a werful
arm stricken to the floor, even as be ad been
stricken by the American, though this time the
blow was not finite so heavy. nor so skillfully
struck” He stil retained his senses only to see
over him the frowning face of Manuel, the
herdsman.

 

CHAPTER IX.
A RIDE FOR LIFE.

FULLY did Lara comprehend the peril of his
position.

“ Utter not one sound of alarm, Rita!” cried
the Pathfinder: and Roy, as he looked into the
fierce eyes that glared so threatenineg into his

t that the Indian was indeed in savage

 

earnest. The fierce light gleamed in his eyes
like that of the cougar when it is about to
spring upon its prey.

-“ Oh, my brother, spare him i” cried the peon
girl, stretching her hands imploringly.

“ Listen to me, sister,” he answered. “ I am
about to take vou from this wolf. If you refuse
to go I’ll kill him on the spot, as I would kill
any beast of prey.”

“No, 1101” she cried; “spare him.
with you.”

“ I will spare him on one condition: that you
go with me quietly and without any attempt to --
return to him; but, first to secure this dog, so
that he cannot give the alarm after our depar—
ture. Bring the blanket from the bed.”

Rita obe ed his order, trembling with excite-
ment and ear.

“Cut it into narrow strips, three or four
inches wide,” the Pathfinder continued.

Roy made no attempt at resistance; thou h
young and powerful of muscle, he felt that e
was no match for the desperate brother. .

Then taking the strips which the peon girl -
had cut, the ndian bound first the hands and
then the feet of the Mexican, rendering him as
helpless and as powerless as an infant: and, as
a final precaution, the peon rolled up a iece of
the blanket in the form of a ball, an witha.
strip of the same fastened the ball securely in
Roy’s mouth, thus gagging him most eflectuall .
Lara, after the Indian ad finished his tas ,
could neither move nor speak.

The Pathfinder, then cast a hasty glance. .
through the door. No one was in sight.

“Come,” he said to his sister sternly. “I
will take you far from this den oi infamy, and
from this man who would destroy you.”

I will go

With one farewell glance at the one whom she? ' Li

idolized, and without a word, Rita followed her
brother to the horses. The chance of escaping
unseen was desperate' they‘ must pass within
full view of the ranch. he Pathfinder felt
that;1 their only hope lay in the speed- ot their
stee 3.

By the side of the beasts Manuel spoke
a sin.

g“ Rita,” he said, “ I know that you are blind
to your own good. I know that this MexiCan‘
snake has fascinated you to your ruin. l have 5.:
sworn by the bones of our mother that I will: , 
save you from him.” ' ,

Once mounted, they proceeded slowly past the
house. Beyond it lay the open space, over which ,»
he must crossto gain the prairie, full in view '
from the ranch. '

“Be ready, sister, for a sharp gallop,” he
said, as they entered uplon the open ce. No
one was in si ht. The cart of_ the athfinder "
beat high wit hope; he had gained the edge of
the prairie, when, through the door of the stock» 
ado. came a nois group~a half—dozen or so of g!
the brigands. he instant their eyes fell 11 .«g
the peons the comprehended that somet 11g 
was wrong; t ey knew that their young chie 1
had agirl in the little log—house, yet here she :‘
was, on the prairie with a stranger, apparently

fl in . .
yWigtli a wild yell, some of the brigands rushed

to the stable for horses; others fled to the-

iog-house to discover what had become of Lara,

 

I

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

18

to find him bound and gagged. They released

him at once.

Wild with rage, Roy sprung;r to his feet.

“ Horses!” he cried. “Pursue them at once!”
then dashed from the house.

’Twas the custom of the brigands to keepa

‘ dozen horses or so saddled at all times, ready for
any emergencies; so that Roy, rushing from the
house, found the horses ready on the prairie.

Snatching a carbine from one of the men, Roy
vaulted into the saddle and, at the head of ten
of the brigands armed to the teeth, rode after
the fast-fl ing fugitives. '

So quic had been all these movements—so
little time had they taken, that the peons had
hardly ten minutes’ start; and, on the broad,
open prairie, here with scarcely a hillock to ob-
struct the View, they could easily be seen at a
distance of five miles, instead of the two which
separated them from their pursuers.

On went the chase—each party urging their
horses to the utmost.

Five—ten miles have the. horses of the pursued

, and the pursuers passed over. Then, turning in
1 the saddle, the Pathfinder measured the distance
between himself and his pursuers. The brigands

Were gaining groundl and his ear catching

the heavy breathing of his horse, convinced him

thnlt the pace was telling hard upon the ani-
ma . -

“A few miles more and they will overtake

. us,” murmured the Pathfinder, between his
teeth. “ Caramba I” and he hissed out the oath
from his flrm~clinched teeth, “if I die, other
blood besides mine will reddeu the prairie. My
poor beast is nearly done for; I’ve a mind to
pull n and make a fight for it; there’s not
more tian adozen. and my rifle and revolver
are good for six lives, to say nothing of my
knife.”

And what were Rita’s thoughts? Alas, poor
girl, her heart was so full of anguish that
thought had almost ceased. She knew full Well
that, in the event of a conflict, she must lose
either a lover or a brother, or both must perish.
The beautiful but hapless girl wished that she
was in her grave.

“ Curamba!” cried the bandit chief in glee, as
he saw that he was gaining upon the fugitives;
“another half-hour and we shall overtake
them.”

" Their horses are tiring,” cried Tio, who rode
‘ next to Roy, foremost in the chase.

“ Yes, their horses are winded, while ours, as
yet, are fresh,” responded Roy.

‘ “ 0a 'tano, will not this peon be likel to

j show ht?” asked one of the brigands, a uge

. red-headed fellow, who answered to the name of

o.
Ari-Well. are we not ten to one?” demanded
Boy. “If the dog shows his teeth, we’ll pull
them out for him.”
At which piece of pleasantry the brigands in
bearing laughed loud and long.

. “ Ah, comrade!" cried Tio. quietly to himself,
“ the process of extracting the teeth of. yonder
dog may be more difllcultthan you imagine, and
may cost more lives than one. By the heard of
my grandfather, if there is to be a fight he’ll not

_ be apt to spare me, that’s certain; so, for the
present, my place is in the rear.” And having

 

 

Mustang Rider Roy.

come to this conclusion, Tio, without attracting
attention, quietly tightened the rein on his horse
and let the others pass him. He soon was the
rearmost rider. Intent upon the chase, none of
the brigands noticed this little maneuver.
Si};er located in the rear, Tio chuckled to him-
se .

“Now, then," he cried, jocosely addressing
his speech to the animal on whose back he sat,
“let the sport begin as soon as poesible; you
and I are out of danger. But may the good
Mother of God protect that brave soul!” he
ejaculated, with real fervor.

Still hotly on, riding for life, pressed the pur-
sued, and still hotly on their track followed the
brigands.

A stumble, and the horse of the peon went
down upon his knees. A yell of joy burst from
the hoarse throats of the pursuers. Quickly,
however, the practiced hand of the Indian
pulled the horse to his feet, and still onward
over the prairie went the race for life.

“This cannot last much longer!" cried the
peon, as he noted how rapidly his enemies were
gaining upon him, and what signs of distress
and exhaustion his horse was showing.

Eagerly the hunted man surveyed the broad
prairie. Mile upon mile it stretched on, one
vast, unbroken plain. It never before looked so
boundless and forbidding.

What would not the Pathfinder have given

then for one little clump of timber—a single
wooded knoll—in which he might seek shelter-—
which he might turn intoa fortress, and from its
cover defy his foes!
. He felt that he was doomed, and only for the
iron will that clinched his firm-set teeth, he
would have groaned aloud in agony. Then,
when he looked upon his sister, the knowledge
that his death would give'her again into the
hands of the man he hated, Roy Lara, the Mex-
ican, was maddening.

Convnlsively the Pathfinder loosened the knife
in his bolt; the dread thought was in his heart;
he would kill her rather than she should fall the
prey of the man who had charmed her as the
serpent charms the bird.

“ Yen,” thought the desperate brother. while
still he rode furiously onward, “ I will stab her
with my own hand if the worst comes to the
worst, for there is no way to save her. Surely,
our parents will look down from Heaven and
bless the deed! It is not murder; it is but
saving the‘lamb from the wolf.”

 

CHAPTER X.
Tim COUGAR snows ms TEETH.
“PREPARE your weapons, men!” shouted

y.

It was evident to the brigand that a few min-
utes more would give the fugitive: into his
hands.

Eagerly the brigands unslung their carbines.
Human bloodhounds, this chase, which must end
in death, was to them but time.

Tio, safe in the rear, wa bed the proceedings
with interest.

“ By Old Nick himself, the patron saint of
these fellows, but this will be as rare fun as a
bull~flght,” he cried.

 

 

 

 

 

Mustang Rider Roy. 19

 

Again the brave Pathfinder’s horse stumbled
and went down upon his knees.

“ By heaven l” cried Roy, “ he’s thrown l”

And it was apparently so, for when the horse
rose to his feet his master had disappeared from
his back, and the quSUPI‘S could discern a dark
muss, evidently the form of the Pathfinder, ex—
tended upon the prairie.

A yell of joy burst from the throats of the
brigands at the sight.

“Bali!” cried T10, disgusted, “there is to be
no fight, then, after (ill—no fight! I wanted to
see half a dozen of these fellows laid out on the

rairie. Well, there’s one consolation, there’ll
e more for the soldiers to kill.”

Rita had dismounted, uppai‘ently to help her
brother. and yet Roy noticed, as he rode toward
them, that she remained standing by her horse,
not twenty paces from the prostrate man.

The brigand suspected some ruse. The thought
struck him how im robable that the herdsman——

' notoriously one o the best riders around, and

used from boyhood to taming wild steeds of the
prairie—should be thrown from a tired horse,
and knocked senseless, too, by contact with.the
prairie’ssoftsurface. Instinctively Roy slackened
the speed of his horse; the hrigands, with a sort
of vague apprehension of danger, followed his
example.

The ruifians were now within rifle range of
the Pathfinder, anal were approaching at a
gentle gallo . Tio, still in the rear, and scent-
ing danger rom afar, had slackened the pace of
his horse to a walk.

Suddenly, then, from under the belly of the
peon's horse—which was standing broadside to
the brigands—came a little puff of white smoke;
the sharp report of a rifle followed, and the
brigand who rode just behind Roy reeled in his
saddle, clutched vacantly at the air, and tumbled
from his horse, shot through the breast. Roy
saw that the shot had been aimed at him.

“ Bravo!” cried 'l‘io, safe in the rear; “ the
Pathfinder begins to show his teeth. Now draw
them, Senor Brigamisl”

Maddened with rage, R0 rose in his stirrups.
“Forward!” he cried. “ hoot down the man,
but spare the irl!”

The brigan s rushed onward, impatient to
avenge their comrade’s death.

“ Reserve your fire till Within pistol ran cl”
cried Roy. “ He is defenseless: don’t let im
escape! Make this his last trail!”

As the brigands gallo rapidly toward him——
reserving their fire in o lance to the orders of
their leader—the moment they got within revolver
range the intrepid and self-possessed peon opened
fire. Crack! crack! crack! Three little pufi’s
of white smoke, the three sharp reports. and
three brigands tumbled from their saddles, one
shot dead—pierced through the temple; the
other two badly wounded.

Instinctively, and without waitin for orders,
the riders piil ed up their horses an discharged

a scatterin fire upon their desperate game.
But, so con used was their aim, that notasingle
shot struck the peon or his horse, behind Whose
body he was now sheltered.

The brigands had halted on receiving the
deadly fire, and two orthree showed a disposition
to retreat. Almost mad with rage, and wild at

 

the thought of losing four of his comrades, Roy
urged them on.

‘ Cowards!” he cried, “ will you retreat from
one man? On and crush him!‘

But his men hesitated; they had guessed, from
the rapidity of the tire, that the Pathfinder was
armed wit a revolver, that wonderful North
American weapon of which they had heard so
much and knew so little.

At this moment the hunted u again opened
fire. Twice he discharged t e revolver, thus
emptying the chambers of the weapon. Each
shot was aimed at Roy Lara, for could he dis-
able that ruffian the others would retreat. The
second shot topp ed Lara from the saddle. The

Pathfinder gave vent to a fierce about of joy, ,

which was answered by a cry of dismay from
the attacking party—the members of which
speedily retreated out of ra e, bearing their
stricken leader with them. ortune, however,
favored the brigand chief, for the ball had mere-
ly passed through the fleshy part of the shoul~
der, making but a slight wound.

“ Are you hurti” inquired red-bearded Legro,
as he paused with the wounded leader at a safe
distance from the deadly fire of the peon.

“ N 0t seriously ' the ball has only cut through
my shoulder. M’y horse, starting at the mo—
ment, caused me to lose mg seat," answered
Roy, as he sprung into the sa dle again.

“ Caramba!” cried the peon, in despair;
“Satan himself aids this man. Four times
have I missed him.”

Rita, who had been watching the combat with
strainingh eyes, now fearing for her brother,
now for er lover, opposed to each other in this
deadly combat, when she saw the brigand leader
fall—dead, she imagined—killed by the ball
from her brother’s pistol—~cou1d not endure the
fatal sight; her senses failed, and, with a faint
shriek, she fell apparently lifeless upon the
ground. -

The moment the brigands retreated, the Path-
finder proceeded to reload his weapons. His
rifle loaded, he felt in his uch for the bullets
of the revolver, when, to h s dismay he discov-
cred that he had nothing but rifle-bullets, too
large to fit the other weapon.

“By the Virgin!” he cried, in dismay, “my
revolver is useless. I have but my rifle—one
shot—one life, and they are yet seven toone.
Should they make another attack I am lost.
I’ll load the barrels with powder, though; the
dog may frighten with his bark if he cannot
bite. In an hour the sun willbedown: night
will come; if I can but baffle them till then,
amid the shades of darkness I can escape.”

Loud and hot was the discussion among the
Mexicans. They already had lost four men out
of eleven. which left but seven in the field, and
one of these—Roy, their leader—was already
wounded. ‘

“ If you had closed in upon him when I or-
dered, he would now be in our power or life-
less!” cried Roy, bitterly. ‘ i

“ Pardon, capitano! cried Legro, who was a
sort of a leader among the brigands, though
bearing no rank. “ The fiend is armed with re-
volvers: besides, we’d emptied our pieces, and
before we could have cut him down with our
sabers, he could easily have shot us down, one

 

 

 

 

 

 

-. h-  H... .  . ,.-s4«~uafiu‘2nrz.u\bwl -

 

$0 , Mustang Rider Roy.

 

by one. He shoots with wonderfull skill, that
I’ll swear.” '

“Bali!” cried Roy, in anger; “he had fired
five shots; that is the number of chambers a
revolver has; the chances are a hundred to one
that he was helpless when we retreated."

“ Perhaps,” growled Legro, sullenly; “ but,
then, he may have two or three more revolvers,
and What man wants to run into certain death?
I fear no living man, but I don’t want to be
shot down likeadog in cold blood, withouta
chance for my life.”

“ Yes, yes, that’s true! that’s sol” came from
the lips of three or four of the brignnds, who
felt but little relish to again encounter the Path-
finder with his death-dealing weapons at close
quarters.

“ It is clearly impossible to nin anything by

’ making a direct attack,” snid oy, musingly.

“Oh, clearly!” cried Legi'o, and the rest of

{the band echoed his Words.

“ In a short time night will come,” said Roy.
“Yes, and then good-by to all hopes of kill-
ing this viper,” responded Legro. “In the
darkness he can easily escape. He knows the

~ prairie like a. bee, and will disappear like a

snake.”

“ Could we not place sentinels around and so
hem him in?” asked another of the band.

“ Nol” cried Ro . “ At whatever part of the
line he attempt to break through, he would
llll'l but one man to opposehim. One shot then
would 0 en the way for the peon’s flight. I
have a pllsn, though, that may succeed."

I Aégd eagerly the brigands gathered around to
ist . '

 

CHAPTER XI.

THE WOLF AT BAY.

“MY plan is simple,” said the leader. “ Be-
fore we failed because we all attacked together
in one body and from one point. Now, my idea
is to surround and attack him from all points.
His attention being thus diverted, for he cannot
watch all of us at ‘once, some one of our number
may be able to disable him, or, at all events,
disable the horses. That would place him with-
out means of escape.

“ Now," continued Roy, “there are seven of
us here. We will form a circle around him,
keeping out of range of his fire. Then, when
the circle is complete, we will all dash in upon
him simultaneously. I will give the signal for
the advance ,b discharging my pistol. Remem—

'ber. disable t 9 horses if you can not the man,

and do not expose fyourselves. recklessly to the
iii-o. We can not a 0rd to lose more” men.” ,
Which caution was entirely unnecessary, for
none of the cut-throats had any desire to expose
their precious lives within range of the peon’s
dead}?! fire.
“ ow‘ then, prepare for the attack!" cried

' Roy. “Tic, you remain here; this will be your

station: the rest follow me. Remember, men,
the signal for the advance is a shot from my
pistol.

And Tio was left, much tohis own satisfac-

. tion, just 'where he proposed to remain—out of

a reach.
Roy, with the brigands, galloped off to form

 

the circle—Which would soon be a circle of fire,
eager to consume its prey—around the death-

, doomed man.

Some five hundred yards or so, Legro dropped ,
out of the ranks and took his station there; the
rest of the hand rode on. Another live hundred
yards another bri%and stopped, and so they -
went on, until, at ast, Roy alone was left to
gallop onward. Then he, too, stopped, wheeled
his horse around to face the prey, and the peon
was completely encircled b the prairie bandits.

This maneuver had not an unobserved by
the Pathfinder; he understood its meaning only
too well.

“Ah, the cowards!” he cried; “they intend
to dash in upon me as the Indians surround and
dash in upon the Wlld buffaloes. I fear my race
is run. I am almost powerless for defense, too;
one load in my rifle is but one life. If I had'my
revolver charged, I’d make some of them rue
the attempt to run me down like a wild beast.
But let them come!” cried the brave brother,
defiantly, as he drew back the hammer of his
rifle and leveled it across the back of the horse,
direct at Roy. “He will never touch Rita's
hand again.”

The brigand captain looked around the cor-
don of men; motionless they sat in the saddle,
carbine in hand, waiting for the signal.

Sharp and shrill rung out on the air the re-
port of Lara’s pistol.

Seven horses felt the spur stroke of seven pair
of heels, and the brigands rode in to the attack. -

Narrow grew the circle as they closed in upon
the prey.

The Pathfinder reserved his fire till Lara was
fairly within range; then the sharp report of his
rifle broke upon the air. Full at Roy Lara’s
heart had the ball been aimed, but the brigain
captain was fated not there to die. The chief
had caught the glint of the fast—dying sun on the
shining rifle-tube—had guessed the moment of
the discharge, and, causing his horse to rear,
the beast had received the ball full in his chest,
and, with a. convulsive groan, had fallen upon
his knees, then rolled over on his side, mortally
wounded. Roy nimbly disengaged his feet from
the stirrups. and, as the beast fell, leaped from
his back to the ground. Losing his balance,
however he fell prostrate. w

A wild whoop rung from the lips of the peon
as he witnessed the all and supposed death of
his enemy. Quickly leveling the revolver and
wheeling upon the foe advancing in his rear, he
fired. The blank charge was as fully effectuah
in one sense as if it had contained a ball, for the
brigands advancing in that direction turned
their horses about and retreated far more rapid-
ly than they had advanced.

Wheeling quickly, the Pathfinder fired first at
the brigands approching' on the right, then at
those on the left. Panic-stricken at their leader’s
fall, they fired their pieces at random at the
single foe; then, follmving the example of the
others, retreated fast across the prairie.

Roy, by this time, had gained his feet.

A cry of rage broke from Manuel’s lips.

“ Is this man a fiend,” he cried, “that I can-
not kill him?”

_ And what would not the eon have given
to have had his loaded rifle in is hand again—-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mustang Rider Roy. ‘ I i 81

 

to have had one more chance at the life of
his foei

Roy snatched up his carbine from the ground,
where it had been thrown by the shock of his
fall. 0n foot then, carbine in band, reckless of
the consequence, he dashed in upon the peon, as
though single-handed he would crush him; but

 there was method in the madness of the leader.
'-, The moment he arrived within range he leveled
 his carbine and fired; the shot struck the Path-
 flnder’s horse just behind the shoulder; the
' wound was mortal, and the horse sunk upon tho

prairie, stricken unto death.

Manuel discharged two bd‘rrcls of the really
harmless revolver at the brigand, and he, think-
ing that he, heard the whistling of the halls
about his head, and conscious that he had de-
prived the peon of the means of flight. retreated
across the prairie to where the hrigauds, all
assembled together and wcll out of reach of the

on’s fire. were watching the mad movements
of their leader. But when they saw the horse
of the peon fall—saw Roy retreat unharmed—-
they sent forth a shout of triumph. They
admired foolhardiness in others, though they
had but little inclination to indulge in it them-
selves. r

Thanks to the blank cartridges in the In—
dian’s revolver, Roy Lara rejoined his hand

, unharm d.

“ Catch me a horse, some of you,” be said.

A brigand dashed off in chase of one of
the riderless horses. The horses had not strayed
far, and the fellow speedily returned with one.

R0 , again in the saddle, prepared to as-
sail t e single foe, who still so bravely held his
own. .
“ That was a daring attempt, capitano!” cried
Legro, in admiration.

‘ If you had but closed in upon him, the affair
would have been ended," replied Roy; “ but as
it is, I have cut off his retreat. One horse re—
mins for the two; either he must abandon the

girl or sacrifice his own life.”

“Why, capitano, the bullets of this. red devil
.seem to have no effect upon you. wace he has
failed to killyou,” said Legro.

“ I was not born to die by the hand of a peon l”

exclaimed Roy, scornfully.

“ Recharge your pieces, you that have fired.
We’ll dash in upon him again. If we cannot kill
him we can disable the other horse, and then he
is wholly in our power.”

1 Tdhe brigands who had fired proceeded to re-
0a

The carbines charged, again they gather
around their leader to receive his last instruc-

tions.

The Pathfinder, who had reloaded his wea—
pons. still using but powder alone for his
revolver, for want of bullets, had waited pa-
tiently for some new movement on the part of
his relentless foes. By the death of his horse he
was uncovered on that side to the fire of the
attacking party.

A sigh escaping from his sister’s lips aroused
him.
The brother hastened to her side; the brigands
were still quiet. apparently holding a council.

“' I: he dead?" were the first words that came
from the lips ot'the peon girl.

 

Rita was recovering from her swoon.‘

“ N 0; he is unharmed. The Evil One protects
him,” answered the brother.

“ And you have not been wounded?” she
asked.

“ No; but the stru gle Will soon be over.
The next attack wil probably cost me In
life; then you will be free to go with this
man, for whom you are willing- to peril your
soul!”

“Oh, my brother!” cried the girl, rising to
her feet. “ Would that I had been dead and in
my (linger; grave are I had brought you into this
peri ! v
'“ Would you rather die with me than lead a.
life of shame?” ' '

“No, no, brother!” cried Rita, sinking upon
her knecs with uplifted hand. “ I am not pre—
pared to die! Spare me!”

“Spare you!” exclaimed the Pathfinder:
“spare you, so that when I am cold in death
you will rush to the arms of this fiend? Spare
you,“ so that on may bring disgrace to the

lood of your dead mother? No! ” '

CHAPTER XII.
THE MASTERS or THE PRAIRIE.

“SPARE me! spare me, brother!” implored
the kneeling girl, and then her eyes wandered
wildly across the prairie toward the brigands,
as though she expected that help would come
from them to save her from her brother’s
stcc . ’

“See!” she cried, suddenly. “They are re‘
treating! See Manuel, brother, they are fly—
ingl”

Astonishcd at this sudden maneuver, the
Pathfinder turned his gaze upon his toes. ' r A

The girl had spoken thetrnth; the brigands
were in full retreat. Spurting their horses like
men mad, they were flying at their topmost
speed across the prairie.

“Strange, Icanuot understand the mcanin
of this!” cried the peon, as he watched the rapid
and unceremonious flight of his toes. “What
can have caused it? Then the peon swept his
eye around the horizon to see if he could discover
the reason for this unaccountable proceeding on.
the part of the brigands. '

The Pathfindcr’s searching glance soon dis-
covered a body of horsemen advancing from the
west.

 

cried.
“ What is it?” exclaimed Rita, gazing in as-
tonishment into her brother's face.

“See there!” he cried, pointing to the body of
horsemen advancing?r from the west.
m“ I” see a body 0 horsemen advancing rap-
1 y.

gimmin rep ied the peon.

“ Dear brother, you are saved then I"

“ No; I am lost!” returned Manuel.”

“ Lost?” cried Rita. in astonishment:

“Yes; we are both lost I” despairineg cried
the peon.
who they are?”

“ They are not Mexicans, for they do not wear
somhreros,” said the girl, still shading her eyes
with her hands and gazing intently at the fast-

approaching strangers I

 

‘_‘ Are the very powers of evil against me?" he I

“ Yes; the ride with the speed of the wind,” '

“Look again! Can not you guess ‘

Theyaro not North,

 

 

22e

Mustang Rider Roy.

 

Americans, for I can not see the gleam of their
sabers.” .

“- Would to heaven that they were the soldiers
of the Republic; then we should be saved. Now
we are lost,” returned the dejected man.

The dark mass had now ap roached so near
that, to the eyes of the girl, it egan to separate
into single horsemen. ‘They are Indians,” she
cried, suddenly.

“ Yes, Comanches,” returned her brother.
“ ’Tis a foray against the frontier. It was their
ifpearauce that caused the speedy retreat of the

exicans.”

“ What can we do?” questioned Rita.

“ Nothing. In a few minutes we shall be
prisoners in their hands. Resistance is useless,
and would only exasperate them.”

“ What will be our fate?” asked Rita, anx-

iousg. ’
“ on will become the wife of some chief, and
they w'll make a slave of me.”

“'Ohl such a fate will be terrible l” cried Rita,
in anguish.

“ It is our destiny- we are doomed,” replied
Manuel. "' But in t eir hands as prisoners,
there is still a chance for escape. The Indians,
evidently, are about to attack some frontier
town, perhaps Tacos; if so, the soldiers there—
of whom they can have no knowledge—will give
them a warm reception, and we stand a faint
chance of release; therefore. do not breathe a
word of the presence of the North Americans in
the villa .”

“ I wil not,” replied Rita. “I would do any
thing—dare any thing to escape from this dread—
ful fate."

0n came the red warriors, the masters of the

prairie, sweeping down upon the two peous as
,the eagle sweeps down upon its prey.
l 0a they came at the best speed of their hardy
little ponies, gayly adorned with the bright war-
paint and the many-colored feathers that formed
their head-dresses and fluttered from their long
lancos waving proudly in the wind.

It was uite a large war-party, numbering
perhaps ty warriors, led, too, by chiefs of
‘ note.

The party were on their yearly foray against
the Mexican frontier settlements. Their course
was to be marked with blood, and the smoke
and flame of the burning ruins that they left in
their track.

It was apparent that the party had not struck
a. blow yet, for no trophies of victory adorned
their persons. They had probably crossed the
Rio Grande below El Paso and struck inland- to

' avoid observation.

Upon approaching within rifle-shot of the
peons, the warriors separated, and branching
out to the right and left, inclosed the two in a

,. circle, and then halted.

The Pathfinder discharged his rifle in the air.
His revolver he had reviousl cast d0wn in the
grass so that it shou d not fa 1 into their hands;
then he drew the knife from his belt and threw
it far from him on the prairie, and held not his
hands signifyin that he was unarmed.

Two of the ndians, apparently the chiefs of
the party, a‘dVanoed. I

As a rule the wild master of the prairie de-
spises his " civilized” brother, the Mexican, and

 

not without reason. But the two chiefs havin
noted the bodies of the slain brigands, ha
qglckly arrived at a correct solution of the situ—
a ion.

The two chiefs who now approached were
strikingly alike in person, though one was old
and the other young—evidently father and
son. -

“ Did my red brother kill these men?” asked
the elder chief, speaking excellent Spanish.

“ Yes,” replied the pooh.

“Alone?”

“ Yes." '

“Wah!” ejaculated the young chief. “My
brother is a great brave.”

“Does my brother live in the lodges of the
Mexicans?" asked the old chief.

“ Yes,” the peon answered.

“ Yet they are dog, and try to kill him?”

“A man may have foes even among the
people in whose lodges ho dwells,” said the
herdsman.

“ My brother speaks straight; his skin is red
—-his heart is not white. Why will he live in
the lodges of the pale—faces?”

“ He was born there,” responded Manuel.

“Let him be born again, and this time a
Comanche," said the old chief, tersely.

“ It is good.” said the other chief, “ the Iron-
pan is a great chief; he will be a brother to the
red warrior who has dwelt in the lodges of the
pale—faces.” -‘

“ And the Gray Bear will be his father,” said
the old chief; and then his eyes falling upon the
girl he asked: “ Squaw?"

“ o; sister,” rep ied Manuel.

“ Wahl she is as fair as a prairie-flower,” said
the old chief.

Rita at heart trembled at the compliment,
though outwardly she preserved her calmness.

“ Does my brother know the white lodges by '

the big river there?" and the old chief pointed
south west in'the direction of Tacos.

“ Yes: Tacos,” said Manuel.

“Ugh! goodl” said the Gray Bear; “my
brother will lead my warriors there?”

“ Yes," Manuel promptly replied.

“ How long?” questioned the chief.

“We shall reach there before light in the
morning," Manuel answered.

“ It is good!” answered the chief. “ Let my
red brother take his rifle again; the Comanches
are his brothers; he is a great warrior; the

Gray Bear will fight for the Long-rifle,” the In- ‘

dian had already named the new recruit to the
Comanche ranks.

So a horse was brought and the Pathfinder
mounted and set out with the old chief in ad-
vance of the war‘party. Rita was placed in the
center of the warriors. And so they took up
their line of march for Tacos. »

 

CHAPTER XIII.
rim ATTACK 0N TACOS.

WE will return new to lieutenant Wenie.
When he received J uanita’s note on his return
from his expedition dawn the river, his conster-
nation was great. ' Wenie saw plainly that his
love for Juanita was suspected by her father
and that he had taken the girl away to prevent

 

 

 

 

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 144»: .. 2‘. '

 

Mustang Rider Roy.

   

 

her from communicating with him. What was
to be done?

Vainly he pondered over the affair. The
Mexicans had four or five hours’ start; should
he follow in pursuit? and then what excuse had
he should he overtake them? True, he loved
Juanita, and she loved him, but he could not
very well take her by force from the arms and
protection of her own father.

The lieutenant was puzzled; he resolved to
seek the advice of Major Curtin. Repairing to
the majors quarters, he found him there as
usual.

Briefly to the major the young oflicer ex-
plained matters—related how 'he had met the
senorita on the prairie, and how she had agreed
to become his wife; and, lastly, he told of the
flight of Torres and his daughter, and showed
the major the note he had received.

The old soldier read the little note carefully.

“ It is ev1dent,” he said, thoughtfully, “ that
the girl loves you.”

“ I’d stake my life upon her truth!" cried
Wen ie, warmly.

“ Well I be ieve you could do so with safety,”
re lied the major. “ It is plain that the girl
tallies after her mother, who was a good woman.
and not after her father, who is a black—hearted
scouudrel. I am fully satisfied, chie, that
that man knows something of the fate of my
lost boy, and one of these days—not far distant
either—I may have him in so tight a place that
he will gladly tell all he knows.” .

“But. major, what do you advise me to do?”
asked Wenie.

“lAt present—nothing,” was the major’s curt
re y. ,

‘ Nothing!” cried Wenie in astonishment.

“ Nothing,” repeated the major. “ What else
can you do? You can’t follow on this man‘s
track with a body of United States soldiers, and
say to him: ‘ I love your daughter; give lxer to
me or I‘ll take her.‘ There’s nothing in the
Army Regulations that provides for any such
action as that ” '

“ True, true l” replied Wenie; “ you are right.
major. But if they take her to Santa Fe, there
they may force her to marry this Roy Lara that
I have told you of,” said Wenie.

“ Well, in the first place,” replied the major,
thoughtfully, “I do not think there is any
danger that the girl will be taken to Santa Fe;
and then, the next thing is to force the girl to
consent to the marriage. and, from your descrip-
tion of the lady, I fancy it will be no easy mat-
ter. They are not likely to use actual violence
in the affair, though I have no doubt that both
of these men are capable of it. Take my word
for it, she will not betaken very far from here,
and they will have to keep a close watch upon
her Jo keep her from communicating with

on.

“Then you think that she will contrive in
some way to let me know where she is?" said

cum. I

“Precisely so,” responded the major. “ But,
lieutenant. you need not remain entire] quiet
and do nothing. You can bribe some exican
in the village here to visit Torres’s hacienda on
some pretext, and in a careless way question the
servants and the inmates of the house in regard

 

to the whereabouts of Torres and his daughter.
In that way you might be able to pick up some
information of value to you.”

“ Your suggestion is good, major. I will act
Won it the first thing in the morning,” said

euie, rising to depart.

“ By the way, lieutenant,” said the major “I
have discovered where the hiding-place of t 650
brigands is located.”

“Indeed!” cried Wenie, in. astonishment.

“Yes; a secluded ranch on the bank of the
Rio Pecos. I have a rude map of the road
thither, and of the defenses of the place. It’s
quite a strong place, defended by a stockade
wall, impregnable, except against artillery or a
sudden or unlocked-for attack.”

“ When do you propose to move against them?”
asked Wenie. '

“As soon as I receive fnither information.
My spy is even now in the brigands’ strong—
hold.’

“ Is it possible?” exclaimed Wenie. “He
must be a daring fellow. But good-night,
ma'or.” ' ,

‘ Good-ni ht, lieutenant,” returned the elder
officer, and enie repaired to his own quarters.

The lieutenant’s slumbers that night were far
from pleasant;-bis rest 'was broken by con-
fused dreams; and when the morning came
and he awoke, he felt but little refreshed by his
night’s rest.

The morning duties over, Wenie sought,

among the Mexicans of the village forames—
senger to visit the hacienda of
to gain tidings, if possible, of Torres or his
slaughter. , r

The messenger was soon found, who for a
golden-ounce—to him a fortune-undertook to
perform the task.

After receiving his instructions from the lieu-y

tenant, the Mexican departed on his mission.

Long seemed the hours to the lieutenant, un-
til the Mexican returned, which event occurred
about noon.

The messenger had learned comparatively
nothing—that is, nothing that could give the
anxious lover a. clew to the destination of his he—
loved Juanita.

“ The Mexican told the lieutenant of the snd-'

den departure of Torres with his daughter, and
and an escort, for Santa. Fe; the halt at the
ruined ranch and the appearance of Roy Lara
with his armed followers; then, how the escort
from the hacienda was sent back, and how
Torres and his (laughter had proceeded on their
way with Roy and his men.

Wenie paid the Mexican his promised fee-
much to that worthy’s delight, which he showed
by instantly going and getting gloriously drunk;
and the lieutenant went to the major's quarters
to tell him what heshad learned.

Curtin listened attentively; when Wenie had
finished, for a moment he remained silent; then
he abruptly cried: " i ' '

“Lieutenant, itis as I an cted. I did not
want to tell you of my suspicrons last night, be-
cause I had really no good reasons for them,‘und
I thought you felt' bad enough without my sayé
ins),r anything to make you feel worse.”

I“ What do you suspect?” asked ‘Wenie, in
:1 arm.

Torres. there ~

 

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

cried the

f land.

to these red demons first.

.memflamnm

24

“Well, lieutenant, I hardly suspect now; I
am sure of it. This story of the appearance of
this Lara at the ruined ranch with a body of
armed men, opens my eyes at once. This Lara,
lieutenant, is one of the‘ principal leaders of the
Brigauds of the Prairie; Torres, as I suspected,
is secretly in league with the‘ brigands. The
armed men that Roy Lara headed were the
briganrls themselves.”

“ Then you think—JT and Wenie hesitated to
utter the fearful words.

“I think,” said the major, slowly, “ that the
irl Juanita is now at the stronghold of the
rigands on the Rio Pecos.”

“Then we have an excuse to rescue her,”
cried the lieutenant, a gleam of joy lighting up
his features; "‘ we can attack these villains, de—
stroy them, and tree her; that is strictly in the
line of our duty.”

“You are right!” exclaimed the major, “and
we will perform thnt duty. I should have pre-
ferred to wait until I heard again from my spy;
but, as it is, the case Will hardly bear delay;
therefore, we will set out at once. The bri-
gands’ stronghold is, i should judge, a. score of
leagues from here; but, by crowding the horses,
we can reach it by sunrise. The attack must be
a surprise. or else within their stockade they
might be able to hold us at buy. I will give the
orders instantly for the movement."

But, as the major rose from his chair, a
Mexican, breathless with haste, rushed into the
room.

“ What the deuce do you want?" cried Curtin,
anno ed at the unceremonious entrance.

“ h, Senor Major!” cried the Mexican, and
then aused for breath.

“ ell, what is it?”

l“ The Indians! the Comanches!"

“ ZVhat?” And the major started in astonish-
meu .

“Oh senor, they are on their way to attack
us~a ar war-party—a hundred warriors!”
exican. A

And then, when the messenger had recovered
his breath, he told bow hunting after stray
cattle on the upper Rio Grande, concealed in
the shrubbery y the river’s bank, he had
seen the Indians cross the riVer, and strike in-
Tacos, being the nearest town, was,
of course, the objective point of the expedition;
and the Mexican had hastened at once to give
the alarm. ‘

“ This puts a stop to our expedition, lieu-
tenant,” said the major, “for we must attend
We'll give them such
a reception that the story of it shall strike ter—
ror throu bout their tribe. It is very evident
that the 0 not know of our presence here.
They wi i not attack us till about midnight or
early morning—that is their favorite hour. To—
night, Wenie, we’ll attend to these red—skins, to-

, morrow to the yellow—birds!”

So’ the major and lieutenant went forth to
prepare for the expected attack.
' Each house received its complement of so]-
diers; those at the north end of the town. the
point sup osed tobe the first likely to feel the
Indian a tack, had a double number. Forty
men were ambushed in the homes—the remaiw
ing twenty were posted in the corral backpt the

i

Mustang Rider Roy.

mission, ready to mount and dash upon the
savages upon their retreat from the crossfire of
the houses.

When the shades of night descended upon the
village, few would have supposed, so calm and
quiet was the little street, that each dwelling
was a fortress, bristling with weapons and teem-
ing with armed men.

The hours passed rapidly on, midnight came,
the major and the lieutenant madea final in-
spection of their men, urging increased caution.
Not a gun was to be fired until a shot from the
ma'or’s revolver gave the signal for the attack.

he major himself took post upon the flat roof
of the mission-house, lying at full length behind
the low railing. Com-calcd from sight, be com-
manded a full view of the single street upon
which Tacos was built.

The hours passed slowly away; the first gray
streaks of the coming morn began to line the
eastern clouds, when, to the watchin ears of
the major, came the tramp of many oofs. A
few minutes more and the street below was
filled with dark forms. “

The Comanches had come.

The morning light was in the eastern sky
when the Indians entered Tacos. No sound of
alarm had been given, the town was apparently
buried in slumber.

The Comanches gained the little square before
the msssion-house, the center of the town; then,
rising in his rude stirrups, the Gray Bear gave
the loud war-whoop, the signal for slaughter.
Hardly had the sound of the loud war-cry of the
red chief broke on the still morning air, when it
was answered by the shrill crack of a revolver.
Up into the air convulsiver went the arms of
the Gray Bear; he reeled from the saddle, and
fell headlong to the earth, a lifeless mass.

Hardly bad the crack of the revolver answer-
ed the yell oi the Indian, when a sheet of flame
burst from each side of the little street, and the
carbine-balls came thick and deadly among the
red warriors. Panic—stricken, they turned to
fly, hardly returning the fire of the: soldiers.
But the major, heading the squad of mounted
men, dashed upon them; the soldiers poured
from the houses; and the Comanches, disdaining
to ask for quarter, were cut down like shee in
the slaughter-pen, and of the band that r a so
boldly to the attack on Tacos hardly ten 0!
them ever crossed the Rio Gran e, to hear back
to their tribe the story of their defeat b the
blue-coated chiefs in the street of the little exi-
can village.

The loss of the soldiers was but slight—a
single man killed and ten or so slightly wound-
ed. Few of the Indians being armed with fire-
arms, accounted for the slight loss on the part of
the troops.

But the Pathfinder and his sister—where were
they? They were not among the 11 who fled,
or the party that lay wounded or ead.

CHAPTER XIV.
A DESPERATE GAME.

THE pistol-shot of the major warned the Path-
finder that in some way the soldiers had learned
of the approach of the savages, and were re-
, pared to receive them. As they had ridden _ to

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Mustang Rider Boy.

the town, Manuel had endeavored to elude the
vigilance of the Indians, by whom he was sur-
rounded, and give some alarm to arouse the
citizens and soldiers; but the savages kept a
war eye u n him, and he felt that the attempt
wou d cost no his life, and not be of much ser-
vice to his friends. He felt sure that the sol-
diers, once aroused, could easily beat of! the In-
dians. So he wisely rode quietly into the place.
The single shot revealed to him the trap that the
Comanches had so unwittingly stumbled into.

To think was to act. with Manuel. Instantly
he tumbled out of the saddle to the ground, just
in time to escape the bullets hurled'so thickly
into the ranks of the Indians. The moment he
struck the ground he ran to the shelter of the
nearest house, and there remained till the brief
fight had ended. He knew that all efforts of
his in behalf of his sister would be fruitless, and
be trusted to Heaven to protect her, and a good
Providence answered the expectation.

The escape of Rita was almost miraculous.
In the center of the savages, their bodies were
the ramparts that shielded her from the deadly
fire that mowed them down as the grain falls
before the sickle; and then the fiery Indian
pony that she rode, scared by the firearms, car-
ried her rapidly up the street, far from the
scene of slaughter.
beast, so, with a prayer upon her lips, she leap«
ed boldly from his back. The soft earth re-
ceived her yielding form with scarcea bruise.
Regainiu or feet, she hastened back to the
town, an soon was in her brother’s arms.

The soldiers chased the panic-stricken Indians
far over the prairie; and then, at last, growing
weary of slaughter, the major checked the pur—
suit.

The sun was just rising as the_little squad of
troopers rode back into Tacos. _

The lieutenant approached the m‘aJor.

“There's ten of the Indians whose wounds I
think are not mortal. I’ve had them taken into
the little drinkin shop. I suppose we’ll have
to take them to nta Fe as prisoners," said
Wenie.

“ Yes; I will dispatch a courier at once to
Santa Fe, with an account of this affair. It’s
about the soundest thrashing that these maraud-
ing tigers have ever received along the border.
They’ll not be apt to make another raid across
the Rio Grande, in this direction for some time,
I’m thinking.” '

“ I’m afraid that our ex ition to the bri-
gands’ retreat will have to delayed another
day,” said Wenie, not feeling over— leased at
the idea either. ‘ We will have to ury these
dead red-skins, and attend to our own wounded
men, as well as to the wounded Indians.”

“That’s true,” replied the major. “ Perhaps
it is better as it is. In the mean time I may re-
ceive some information from my spy that will
greatly aid our attack." ‘

Though chafing at heart at the delay, yet the
lieutenant calmly proceeded about his duties.

By afternoon, Tacos had resumed its wonted
appearance, though here and there bloodvstains
on the walls and on the earth still bore witness
to the terrible strug is.

Just as the dusk o evening was coming on. a.
Mexican rode into Tacos, and inquired for Lieu-

She could not control the,

 

 

r125

I

tenant Wenie. He was speedily conducted to
the lieutenant’s quarters.

“ Well?” said the lieutenant, as the Mexican,
who was not remarkable for his good looks, ap»
peared before him. I

“ You are Lieutenant Weniel” asked the
Mexican. /

“ Yes," answered Wenie.

“ Will the senor look at this?” asked the man,
drawing from his breast a little note.

The lieutenant’s heart gave a leap of joy
when his eyes rested upon the delicate inscrip-
tion of the note, for he saw that it was Juanita’s
handwriting. ' ,

Eagerly he tore it open. It contained a single
sentence:

“ You may trust the bearer."

There was no signature, but each letter of the
delicate hand writm was graven on Wenie’s
heart. He knew in well that the note was
written by his beloved. r

“ Where is the lady?” the lieutenant question-
ed, eagerly. .

“ At the hacienda of her father,” answered
the Mexican. '

“ Ah!" cried Wenie, in joy; “ she has return-
ed then?”

“ Yes; the senor brought her back this morn-
ingr early and secretly,” said the Mexican. _ .

‘ How then, did you know of her return?" oe—
manded Wenie.

“The senor employed me to watch her.”

“ And you have betrayed your trust?”

“ Yes, senor; I felt pity for the poor senorita.
Besides, I am to have five golden ounces."

“ It you can procure me an interview with
her, you shall have ten,” cried Wenie.

“ It the senor found it out, I shall lose my
place ” said the Mexican.

“ I’ find you another,” replied the lieutenant.
“ I promised the senorita to find you and tell
you 0 her return; but, to carry you back ,With
me is dangerous.” ’

“Remember, ten golden' ounces.” said Wenie.

The Mexican’s eyes sparkled. Wenie renewed
the temptation.

“ Ten golden ounces will make a gentleman of
you.

“Yes, senor.”

“ It is a fortune."

“Yes, senor."

“ You accept?”

“Yes, senor.” , _

f‘fiYou are a worthy fellovt!” cried Wenie, full
0 Joy.

“ Remember, I’m to have another place if the
senor turns me x if.” said the Mexican.

“ Yes, yes,” replied Wenie.

“When do you Wish to go?”

“ At once." v .

“ Impossible, enor. Remember, the hacienda
is on a prairie; your approach could easily be
seen: in an hour it will be dark. Cats can see
in the night, not men.” _ . .

“ But there is a moon,” said Wenie.

“ The night will be cloudy,” replied the Mexi-
can.

“ In an hour, then, you will come?” ,

“ I will wait here with the senor, if the senor
will let me,” replied the Mexican. ‘

/

 

75¢ em “Ariemn-me‘

 

Mustang Rider Roy.

 

 

, “ Certainlyl” cried Wenie, pacing rapidly up
and down the floor, hardly able to conceal his

im tience.

Iggw slow, to Wenie’s mind, the hour was in
assing. Never before had an hour seemed so
cog—never were the shades of night so tardy in

descending.

To while the time awa , Wenie questioned the

Mexican as to whither uniata had been carried,
and as to the reason of this sudden return: but,

the Mexican knew nothing except that she had .

returned, and had employed him to warn the
lieutenant. He further explained that she was
afraid to write more than the brief line for fear
it might be discovered. -

With this unsatisfactory account, the lieuten-
ant was perforce obliged to be content.

Five minutes alone remained of the hour.

“Will you tell the boy to saddle my horse?
you will find him just back of the house,” VVenie
said to the Mexican. After he had departed on
his errand, the lieutenant threw off his uniform
coat, buckled a. belt around his waist, to which
was attached two holsters, each carrying a re—
volver; then he slipped on his loose undress coat
and was prepared for the night-adventure.
Though apparently unarmed —the skirts of the
coat concealin his revolver—in reality he was
full repared or danger. .
tha if he could possiblglcarry off J uniata that
night, he would do so. 9 was ready now to do
battle with a score for her sake.

Hardly had the lieutenant finished his prepa-
rations, when the Mexican returned, and after
him came the servant with a horse.

Wenie leaped into the saddle; the Mexican
mounted his mule, and the two set out.

As the Mexican had foretold, the night was

' dark. Heavy banks of clouds covered the sky;

only now and then at rare intervals the moon-
= beams shone down upon the rairie. ,
 “It looks like rain,"said Venie, as they gal—
loped onward.

‘ The senor does not fear the rain?”

“ Not on this errand,” replied the lieutenant;
“a rain of liquid fire could hardly keep me
back."

' On rode the two. Tacos was left behind, and
they galloped over the prairie. Already they
had accomplished half the distance between the
town and the hacienda, when somethinz peculiar
' about his Mexican guide attracted Weuie"s at-
tention. A. suspicion of treachery shot across
his mind, for, lover though he was, yet his pas-
sion dld not blind him; he was still the cool,
cautious soldier. What it was about the guide
that had excited his; suspicion he could not tell,
' exceot that it was a stealthy kind of, a watch
that the Mexicnn seemed to be keeping ahead—
a Willi] that he seemed to wish the lieutenant
not to see. )

Wenie ,resolved to be upon his guard. Cau-
tiously he slipped his right hand—~the Mexican
was riding upon his left—under the skirt of his
coat, and drew his revolver; as his arm was

anging down carelessly by his side, of course
’ the Mexican could not see the weapon as they
' rode onward. I

The hacienda was in sight. Wenie began to
think his fears were foolish. A few minutes
more, and Juanita might be folded in his arms.

I

‘ on...»

He had determined .

 

Just then they arrived at a little house that
stood by the read. As they mached it, the
Mexican suddenly threw his arms around the
lieutenant, and essayed to drag him from the
saddle; at the same moment, five or six horse-
men dashed around the corner of the house—
which had concealed them from view—upon the
two.

The truth flashed upon Wenie in an instant;
it was an ambuscade.

Prompt was the lieutenant to act. Hardly
had the arms of the Mexican closed round him
ere the right hand, clutching the revolver, came
down with crushing weight upon the Mexican’s
head. The gripe of the arms relaxed, and the
treacherous dog tumbled out of the saddle.
Leveling, VVenie fired at the horsemen approach-
ing; two shots checked their advance and two
saddles were emptied. The horsemen fired; the
bullets whistlich around the lieutenant’s head;
one struck him in the side. and Wenie felt
that he was Wounded. Quickly he wheeled his
horse and flew at the animal’s topmost speed
for Tacos. A volley from the pistols of the
horsemen saluted his retreat; a ball pierced his
shoulder. '

The horsemen did not attempt to pursue him.
It was plain pursuit was useless.

“ Oh, Satan protects him l” cried the leader of
the assailants, who was no other than the bri-
gand chief, Roy Lara.

The brigands looked to their wounded; one
man, shot through the temple, was dead. The
Mexican guide had only been stunned, and was
now recovering. The other, who had fallen from
the saddle at Wenie’s fire, lay on the prairie
groaning with pain; it was Tic.

“ Are you badly hurt?" asked Roy.

“Yes,’gasped Tic. “I’m shot through the
lungs~leave me to die in peace,” and with a
convulsive gasp ’I‘io sunk back.

“Leave him to his fate,” said Roy, as he
sprung into the saddle. “ Poor devil! he insisted
upon coming (so—night, though I never saw him
eager for a fight before.”

The brigands rode fast for their retreat.

Roy’s plan had failed. Longing for vengeance,
he had resolved to kill or capture Wenie. The
Mexican who had proved so treacherous to the
lieutenant. had been admitted to Juanita’s pres-
ence apparently secretly, and had offered to
carry a message to her lover. Juanita, little
suspecting the haunt she was in, or the man'she
was trusting, had written the line that the
crafty Roy had used as a bait to lead the Amer-
ican lieutenant into the snare which Roy had
designed should prove his death.

And now, after all his plotting, the Mexican
was riding homeward; his foe was still alive—
unharmed for aught he knew. '

Bitterly the brigandcursed the evil fortune
which‘ seemed to surround him, but still more .
bitter would have been his curses could he have
looked that night, an hour later, into the quar-
ters of Major Suitin, and seen the man who was
conversing with he major there—who was ap-
parenth telling a pleasant jest, at which the
stern old soldier laughed long and heartily—the
man was the spy who had just returned from
the brigands‘ stronghold.

 

 

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‘ Mustang Rider Roy.

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CHAPTER XV.
ran SURPRISE AT NIGHT.

LIEUTENANT WENIE rode fast for Tacos; he
felt some slight anxiety in regard to his wounds,
for they might possibly be serious, although the
pain was but trifling.

Arriving at Tacos, the lieutenant went at once
to the quarters of Major Curtin, and briefly
telling that astonished officer of the ambuscade
that he had so luckily escaped, requested him to
examine the wounds.

As the lieutenant had hoped, his hurts were
but slight, and the major, who was something of

V a doctor, 3 eedily dressed them.

“ There ’ said the major, when he had fln-
ished. “ n a week 1’“ Warrant that hardly a
trace of your wounds will remain.”

" They will not prevent my going with the
expedition to the brigands’ stronghold, I hope?”
asked Wenie, anxiously.

“ Oh, no l” cried the
marrow, earl .”

“ Very well," said the lieutenant. “ I will re-
tire to rest at once. I suppose I had better keep
as quiet azdeSSible.”

“ Decid ly; you’ll have exercise enough to-
morrow. I expect these fellows will show fight,"
re lied the major.

he lieutenant proceeded at once to his quar—
ters and retired to rest.

The major a in spread upon the table the
rude map, on w ich was traced the road that led
to the brigands’ retreat by the banks of the Rio
Pecos. ~ As the major bent over the map, he
heard a knock at the door.

“ Come in,” said the major, a little impatient
at being disturbed.

An orderly entered.

“ What is it, O’Neal?"

“ A man wants to see ye’s, major,” replied the
soldier, saluting.

“ What sort of a man?”

“ A little yaller Mexican, sur.”

“ Well, show him in.”

In a moment the stranger entered the room.
The major cast the glance of. his keen eyes upon

him.
"‘ Well!" asked the officer.
“ The senor ‘is Major Curtio?”

major; “ we’ll start to-

asked the

stranger, who was a wiry little Mexican, with

eyes as keen asarat’s and as black as a jet

ad.

“ Yes." replied the major.

The Mexican then took from his irdle a. little
keen-edged knife; with the knife e roceeded
to rip open the lining of his ragged jac et. The
major watched the proceeding with interest.

From its hiding—place between the lining and
the jacket. the Mexican drew out a letter.

“ Will the senor look?” asked the Mexican,
with a courtly bow, tendering the letter to the
officer.

The major had already guessed who and what

the stranger was, and so the contents of the let-

ter in the bold hand of his Excellency, the Mexi-
can President, did not surprise him.

After reading the letter, the major spoke.

"I presume, then, I have the pleasure of ad-
dressin Senor Castollo, Chief of Police of the
exico?”

,.

 

“Yes, senor,” replied the Mexican.

“ You will pardon my want of courtesy in not
offering you a chair,” said the major; “ but your
strange dress——”

“Don’t speak of it, senor. If I wear the dress
of a beggar, I must not expect to be treated
as a gentleman,” said the Mexican, gracefully
taking the offered chair. “ But now to business.
Of course, senor, you are aware that the Presi-
dent is as anxious to crush these Brigands of the
Prairie, who plunder alike your people and
mine, as your Government; and as it was ex-
tremely necessary, in order to make the blow
decisive, that some one should penetrate into
their stronghold, and knowin no one whom I
thought more fit for the o co, I took it upon
myself. That is the reason, senor, why 1 be—
came your spy and you see me in these rags. I
have just returned from the brigands’ strong-
hold, by the Rio Pecos."

“ Ah, indeed!” exclaimed the major.

“ You received a rude ma , a few days ago,
tracing out the route thither?

u Yes.”

“ I sent it to you,” said the Mexican. “ I did
not dare to bring it in person; for of course you
are aware, senor, that if the brigands had dis—
covered my object in seeking their haunt, my
life would have been worth but little.”

“ It was indeed a mission of danger," replied
the major.

“ True; but the reward, if I succeed, is great,"
said the Mexican. “Then, besides, I like once
in a while to throw aside the cares of office.
There is a sort of pleaSure in huntin human
game; it reminds me of what I was fore I
came under the notice of his Excellency, General
Santa Ana, who was graciously pleased to ele-
vate me to my present position.”

“ I had determined to attack the brigands to-
morrow night,” said the major.

“ Good i” cried the Mexican. “ I will lead you;
they Will be like rats in a trap."

And so the officer and the spy arranged the
details of the expedition—ewe raid that was to
bring death or captivity to Roy Lara and all
his band.

The consultation finished, the Mexican bade
the major good-night, and left the house.

Hardly had the Mexican gained the street,
when, in the darkness, he ran against some one
who was passing. A moment the stranger look-
ed into his face; then u cry of passion broke on
the night air. A grip of iron encircled the Mexi—
cnn’s throat” bac ward he was cast to the earth,
a knee upon his chest held him firm; before his
eyes flashed the bright blade of a knife, that
even now was uplifted to strike him in the
throat. K.

Astonished at the unexpected assault, the
Mexican had hardly made a motion of resistance
-—indeed, had be resisted to the utmost of his
power, it would have availed but little against *
the- muscular forcé of his unknown assailant.

“ Dog of a hrigand l” hissed a hoarse voice,
that the Mexican knew. full well, “ prepare for
death. You was the guide that ‘led my sister
into the hands of her betrayer; now, Tic, see if

our flat-like cunning will save you from my
nife. ‘ '

The voice was the voice of the Pathfinder, and

:2; .I ,wzsz . .

 ” as

 

 

Mustang Rider Roy.

 

, . the Mexican held beneath his knee was, indeed,
: no other than Tio.
‘ Tio, whom we shall hereafter call by his pro-
}, per name of Castello, had but feigned to he
; wounded when, on the prairie, he had fallen
‘; from his horse at the licutenant's fire. Having
‘ prooured all the information that he (issued in
regard to the brigands, his next movement was,
’ of course, to impart that information to the
;’ commander of the United States forces in Ta~
cos; but, in order to do so. he must escape from
the brigands, and, if possible, without causing
them to suspect that they had harbored a spy in
their midst. How successful his plan had been
we have seen.

“ I am not a brigaan I” gasped Castello, hard-
ly able to speak, from the grip of the Indian’s
hand, upon his throat. “ I am Major Curtin’s
up i

x The American’s spy!" exclaimed Manuel, in
astonishment, relaxing in his grip upon the
 throat of the Mexican.

‘3 “ Yes, a spy," repeated Costello.
“ If you are lyino'—~” said Manuel, fiercely.

 “ By the Virgin, swear I speak the truth 1”
I, V. cried the Mexican. “ Roy Lam and all his band
¥r « ' are doomed."

r’ “ Are you speaking truth i” asked Manuel,
v removing his knee and permitting the Mexican
to rise.
 ‘ . “ AsI ho to be saved,” replied Costello, not
f‘ sorry to gain his feet and escape from the iron
clutch of the pcon.

“ Doomed i” cried the Pathfinder. “ Alas that
they are not!” ‘

“Say not so, brave Pathfinder," the spy re-
sponded; “forty hours will bring destruction

/npon the Brigands of the Prairie. The Ameri-
cans ride for their destruction.” .

“ It is but the justice of Heaven,” returned the
Indian.

“ If you seek revenge upon Roy Lara. ride
with us to-morrow and you shall have it,” said
Costello. “ The troops indeed, will need the
guidance of the Prairie Pathfinder."

“ Good; I will go with you. When do you
start?” ‘

‘ “ At early dawn; but We shall not attack un-
til after midnight; you know it is a hard day‘s
. , ride from here."
l" ' “ Yes; at early dawn, then I‘ll be with you.
£10135” again to take the trail of the desperado
an . .
And then the two parted.

 

 

 

lye will now return to the retreat of the brig—
_ an s.
Lara and his men had returned from their un—'
. successful expedition. cursing their ill-luck.
Torres listened to the tale of the lieutenant’s
ease with evident ill-humor.
\ .“ his North American has as many lives as a
cat; twice you have failed." ,
, “ The third time may be more successful,” re<
,. turned Roy. “ In, the end I may triumph.”
»,- ~ ‘, “ That is true.” replied Torres.
" “ Your dau¥hter oes not seem now to be any
y disposed to me than she did be-

\

 

 

more favm-ab
tore.” said Roy.
“ once your wife, she will learn to love you,”

 

L,

 

 

replied Torres. “ Roy, you should have been my
son, for I think of you as one.”

“ A strange way you have of showing it,” re-
sponded Roy. “ You might have reared me an
honest man, instead of making me what I am, a.
brignnd and a villain.”

“ Years have changed my lans,” the old
man- replied, slowly. “ then I reared you in
the school of vice I intended, you but as a tool,
an instrument of vengeance, which I was to use
upon another’s head, even if the stru gle cost
your life; but as on row to manhood I learned
to love you. I me your mother once, boy;
and, your eyes are hers. Now I have given up
all thoughts of vengeance—all thoughts of the
vengeance that I meditated even before you
were born. Now I will try and make you a
better man. That is why I wish you to marry
my Juanita; but I will explain more fully to«
morrow. Good-night.” And Torres left the
apartment. f

Strange thoughts were in the mind of the
brigand captain. He knew that there was a
mystery connected with his birth, and often he
had wondered why his skin was whiter than his
Mexican companions, and yet his eyes and hair
as dark as theirs.

In his heart, Roy Lara could not help con-
fessing that he cared but little for the fair Mex-
ican girl, Juanita. Another face was before his
eyes; another love filled his heart. Rita, the
peon girl-sho it was who held captive the bri-
gand leader. '

“ Shall I' ever see her again?” he cried, pas-
sionately, as the remembrance of her beauty
and truth rose up in his mind. Bitter was the

thought that then she was in the hands of the~

marauding red-skins; bitter was the thought
that never again should he look upon that face.
And, with these gloomy thoughts for his com-
panions, the brigund ca tain retired to rest.

Midnight came. Al was still within the
stron hold. With their usual precaution,though
they ittle feared an attack, the outlaws had
posted a sentinel within the Stockade, by the
gate. This sentinel .was relieved every two
hours. .

Two o’clock came: a new sentinel had taken
his position; ’twas Legro.

Carbine in hand he paced up and down before
the gate. Careless was his watch. He did not
notice that a dark figure. which scaled the wall
to the right of him and dropped noiselessly to
the earth inside, was creeping cautiously toward
him. On came the figure. slowly but surely.

stealing: forward with all the stealth of the pan-'

ther. Hid by the shadow of the wall from the
notice of the sentry, it came within six feet of
the end of the little path that measured the
beat; then the figure halted—waited until the
sentinel had turned his back, and then, with
the quick dash of the hungry tiger, the Path-
finder sprung upon the brigand. The steel glit-
tered for a moment in the air. then was driven
to the hilt in the body of the rufl'lan, which fell
heavily to the earth.

Manuel quickly opened the gate, and the sol. ' '

diers, headed by Major Curtin and Lieutenant
Wenie, poured in.

The surprise was complete. Taken defense- .‘
less in their beds, the brigands made but little. \_

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L . the wound, Torres, the Mexican, was

 

Mustang Rider Roy.

29

 

resistance. A few scattering shots, a leam
here and there of steel, and the strugg e was
ended.

Almost bloodless had been the conflict: nearly
all the brigands had been captured—some half a
dozen only escaping. Among the prisoners was
the brigand captain, Roy Lara.

Torres, rushing from his apartment, alarmed
by the noise of the attack, had been struck by a
random shot and mortally wounded.

When Major Curtin heard of this he hastened
to him at once.

The eyes of the dying Mexican gleamed with

Q a strange luster when he gazed on the face of
- the man he had hated so bitterly, .

“ Curtin,” be said, slowly, for life was ebbing
fast “ I have wronged you deeply.”

“ eke what amends you can, while life is
left you,” solemnly replied the major, as he knelt
by the Side of the dyin man.

“ Your son the ch d of Inez,” gasped the
Mexican, feebly. .

“ Does he live?” eagerly questioned the stern
old soldier, now melted almost to woman’s ten-
derness.

“ Yes; and »~”

With his ear 01656 to the lips of the dying
man, the major listened to the story of the past.

CHAPTER XVI.
THE LOST SON.

WITHIN an hour from the time hei received
ead.

Juanita, rising from the side of her dead

arent. found consolation in the arms of her
. over. ' There was now no obstacle to her union
with the man she loved. .

The expedition, with the captured brigands,
returned to Tacos

Major Curtin sat alone in his quarters; a sad

' look was upon the face of the old soldier. It

had been noted by his men that, since the cap—
ture of the brigands’lstl‘onghold, a weig t
seemed to be upon his mind. .

The major sat with his head resting upon the
table, supported by his hand; the gleam of the
light—for it was night—shone full upon his face
~u n the features that bore the marks of care
an sorrow.

The major was talking quietly to himself—
muttering is the better word—as though his
thoughts were so intense that they must find
vent in speech.

. “ Let me see,” he muttered; “the old Roman,
Brutus, gave his son to death. Rome, his

‘ country, first, before ties of kindred. Am I a

Brutus? No! no!" and 'the old soldier shook his
head sadly.
The major’s meditations were interrupted by

,y the entrance of the orderly, O‘Neal.

“ A lady wants to see ye’s, major."
“ Who is she?”
“Don’t know, sur, but she looks as if she’s

< been cryin’."

“ Well, show her in.”
The orderly withdrew. and a woman, with her

: face concealed in one of the shawls so common
, to the lower class of Mexican women, entered

the room. '
“ Well, madam?" asked the major.

 

The girl removed the shawl and revealed thg
features of Rita, the pooh girl.

“ Oh, senor,” she murmured, “ Roy Lara.”

The major started at the name. .

“ Well, what of him?” he asked, striving to
appear calm.

“ I have been told that he is to die.”

" It is likely,” replied the officer.

f‘ Oh, senor," cried Rita, wringin her hands
in anguish, “ his death will kill me a so.”

“ Ah!” the major started; ” you are called
Rita are you not?”

“ es, senor.” I '

“ Your brother has told me somethi
you and this unfortunate young man.
him i”

“ Yes, senor; love him better than life!”

“ You would forsake home, friends, all for
him?”

“Yes, senor; all!”

“ This poor girl teaches me my dut ,” the
major muttered between his teeth. '1‘ en he
paced up and down the room a moment, as if in
deep thought, and then he suddenly stopped be—
fore the irl. V'

“‘Wou d you like to see this man?” he asked.

“ Yes! yes!” answered the girl, eagerly.

“ Come with me, then," he said, casting over \
lfiis shoulders a long cloak and putting on his

at.

Rita followed the major down the street until
they arrived at the adobe house that held
Roy Lara a prisoner. A sentinel paced before
the door. ,,

The major and Rita entered.

Roy, handcuffed, la on a rude bunk in one
corner of the room. he moonhea'ms, shining in
through an opening in the wall, revealed to him
the resence of his visitors. ‘ -

“ ital" he cried, with joy, and in a moment
the peon girl was folded to his heart.

The major stood quietly by and looked on.

“You will excuse me, senor,” said Roy; “ but
this irl is the on] thing that I have in the
worl to love. She is the only creature on earth ,
that loves me; can you wonder, senor, that I
am glad to see her?”

It was evident that the reckless brigand can
 had been changed somewhat by )is down—

a .

“ Are you prepared for death?” asked the
major.

“ Yes, senor; I have but one tie to bind me to
the world——this love that has come tosmile upon
me in my prison and light my passage to the

rave."
g “Suppose by any chance you should escape
death; do you think that in the future, you
would live a different life? ’ \

“ Yes, senor,” eagerly replied Roy; “ I am not
all bad, and I feel sure that this girl's love would
make me a good man. I was never born for a
brigand, but was made one by an uncle whose
memory I detest.” r

The major took from his pocket n ke and un-
locked the handcuffs, as he said; “ Yes, know of
Torres and his great crime; know that he pur—
posely wrecked your life, but it is not yet too late
to shake off the late which his evil heart design-
ed. Let what there is left of nobility in your soul
grow and you are saved—saved I" 1

O
about
on love

. ....,.. u... ‘.»..e.....a....

30 ‘ Mustang Rider Roy.

 

°There were tears in the soldier’s eyes, and his
voice was choked by emotion.

Roy and Rita gazed upon him with astonish-
merit.

“ Now, girl, you follow me; andyou, sir, watch
your opportunity, when I engage the sentinel
in conversation, to slip out through the door and
down the street; the shadow of the houses will
conceal you. At the end of the street wait for

e. .

The old soldier did not give his astonished list-
eners a chance to reply, but beckoning the girl
to follow, he left the house. '

The major went directly to the sentinel and
engaged him in conversation. Rita, standin
near the door, served as a mask for Roy.
second more. and Lara was at liberty, and glid-
in cautiously down the street.

ith a brief injunction to the sentr
disturb the prisoner, the major, with
lowed the fugitive. ' ' .

At the end of the little street they found Roy.

“ Wait,” said the old soldier, as he left them.

Clasped in each other’s arms and lost in wonder
the lovers waited the return of the old major.

In a short time the soldier returned, leading
two horses.

“ Mount and fly,” he said, briefly. .

The moment they were in the saddle, he took
R0?r by the hand.

‘ Have you money?" he asked.

“ Yes,” Roy answered; “ I have letters of
credit from Torres,on his banker in New Orleans,
fiweg inside my jacket, besides some gold in my

it

its, fol-

“ Go, then, to New Orleans, and Heaven speed
you,” cried the major, grasping Roy’s hand
warmly. “Keep faith with this girl;lead an
honest life. and-you will see me again! Go,
go! God bless you, my son 1”

Off went the fugitives, wondering at the
strange manner of t e old soldier.

Little did Roy Lara dream that he was indeed

n the son of the American major—the child stolen

by Torres when an infant. This was the secret
that the dyini Mexican had revealed to Curtin.
This it was t at had saved Roy Lara, the Mus-

. tang Rider.

The escape of the fugitive was discovered in

'the morning, but, as the major said carelessly

that pursuit was useless, nothing was done.
The on] man that might have followed on their
track t e Pathfinder, hud departed for Santa
Fe to bear the ne vs of the defeat of the brigands,
and to return with further orders.

Juanita and Wenie were married; true love
met its reward. The lieutenant. throwing up
his commission, took charge of the vast estates
to Which Juanita was heiress, and he soon be—
game one of the men whom Texans were proud to

onor.

The Brigands of the Prairie never recovered
from their defeat: from that time forth they be-
came a matter of history.

And the Pathfinder?

When he returned, a secret was given him to
keep by the major. That secret removed the
sting which had pierced to his very soul when he
learned of ' Rita 5 flight with Roy Lara. The
marriage of Juanita for a while oppressed him;
but the lovmg hearts of her and her, devoted hus-

not to.

 

baud soon won him from his sorrows, and he be-
came, thenceforward, the trusted agent and
friend of the rich proprietor—a friendship which
he prized more than all things in life.

THE END.

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98 WILLIAI arm-r. N. ‘Y.

 

 

 

v»
I

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1 Does-hunter, “is Boy Scout of the Grant North Woods.
i’»_\‘ 011 Canines.

2 Bull‘an Bill, from Boyhood to Manhood. By Col. Pren-
liss llllzrnlluni.

3 Kit Cnrnnn. King: of Guldu. Bv Albert W. Aiken.

4 Gordon Lillie, the Boy-interprelcr ol'the l'swnees. By

Mnl‘nr. H. ll. Stoddard.

5 Bruin Adnms, Old Grizzly’s Buy Yard. By Colonel
Prentiss ingmhnm.

ti Deadwood Dick us alloy. By Edward L. Wheeler.

7 “Wild Bill, the Pistol Prlnce. By Colonel Prentiss
lngrnhum.

ii The Prairie Ranch. By Jose h E. Badger, Jr.

9 llofin‘ Joel Tim History 01's ‘Bordd' Buy." By A.

ll. Post.

10 Texas Jack. the Mustung King. By Colonel Prentiss
lngmhnm.

11 Charley Skylark. A Story 0! Sohoalnny Scrapes and
C ullego Capers. By Major H. ll. Sunlilnrd.

12 Mnriposn Marsh. By Josenh E. Badger, Jr.

13 Roving Ben. By John J. Murslmll.

14 EPrlllg Steel, Kim: of the Bush. By J. E. Badger, Jr.

15 Vi isle-Awake George, the Buy Plnnecr. By Edward
Willow

16 The Boy W'iznrd. Bi' Burrv Ringqnld. ,

17 Peter Peppergrllss, the Greeuhnru l‘rnm Gutilmn. By

on u .

18 Adrift on the Prairie, find Amniour Hunter»
on the Bull'nlo lillnze. By 011 (tunnuul.

19 The Foriune limiter; or, Roving Jug "5 Minor,
Cuwboy, Trnppur zllltl llunlur. liy A. H. Post.

20 Trn nor Tom, thv wow: 1m , By T. c. llnrbnugh.

21 Yelgsw Ilnir. the Boy Chi. ol'tne Pawns-us. By Col.
Prentiss lngrnlmln.

22 The Snow Trnil. By T. C. Harm-ugh.

28 01:1 Grizzly Adams, the Bear 'l‘luncr. By Dr. Frank

owe .

2 Wood- and Waters. Ry Capt. Frederick W'llitulker.

25 A Rolling Stone: incidents in the Cursor on Sen and
Lnnd of (mi. Prentiss ingrahnm. By Wm. R. Eystel‘.

26 Red River Rovers. By C. Dunning Clark.

2’? I’lnza nnd l’lnlni 0’. “ ild Adventures (![“BliCl(Skill
Stun.” (Mu'. Slim. 5. Hull.) By Col. P. lngrnhuln.

28 The Bwor Prince. .'l he Romantic Lire otCul. Mon-
Itery. liy Cnpt. l-relinrlrk “‘hiit ulnar.

29 Snow-Shoo 'l mu. _ By . C. Hnrnnugh.

30 Pm“ (16 Lucy, inc E mail Beast Cnnrmer. By C.
Dnnnimz Clnrk_.

81 Round the Camp Fire. Bv Joseph E. Bangor, Jr.

32 White Beaver, the Indian Medicine Chiul. By Col.

 

' Pruntiss lnzrnlmm.
88 The Boy Crusader. By (‘21 ~t. Fred. Whiltnlmr.
84 The Chm ol’ the. Grout )V In: “tug, anthems“)
and Canoe. By (7. Dunning Clark,
85 01:1an Knuckle null His Boy (mums. By R. smuuck,
36 The Dilllllnll I’l‘likflolz M. The Story “Hon. George
A. Cusler. lly (Jul-I. Fred. Whitlnkor.
3’? Night-“null George. By Cul. Prentiss lngrnhnm.
' Exiles oi'Slbcrln. By T. (7. liarblulzh.
‘ z llenr Hunters. Bv Morris liedwinz.
40 swfiitlhlm, tho Lnd with n Lew ileml. By Edwnrd
' et .
41 The Settler’s Son. By Edward S. Ellis.
42 Walt Fi-rfuson’n Cruise. By C. Dunning Clark.
icvolvcr. lly Capt. Fred. \Vhitmker.
44 The Lost Boy Whalers. Bv T. C. Hurlmugh.
45 Bronco Billy, the Saddle Prince. By Cnl. l’ngruhnm.
46 Dick, the Stownway. lh‘ Charles Morris.
47 The Colorado Boys; or, Life on An Indigo Plantation.
43 my “1’3"” “iii; I‘ N '
e nmpafl n or- or ew York '
Buenos Ayn-s, By T. C. llgtlllllitll. my! m
4‘.’ The Adventurous Life of Nebraska Charlie.
Byfol.l Prentiss l‘rllgi'nhnm.l Tl
5 Jae ' nrry an onl tm mm Chum ionBr ,
o n,- 6...... Fred. wmunkei. P "he"
51 The Young imndmeher. By C. Dunnng Clnrk.
5-; The Boy Detectives. By T. C. Harhnugh.
[s8 ilonest ilarr '; on, Tho Country Boy Adrift in the
(thy. Dy Char Ls LiliYI‘ll.
54 California Joe. the hiyfllfl'lous Piainsmnn. By Col.
l‘rentiss lnurnlmm.
55 Th, Trcml, n... Floater. By Edward “'illult.

    

 

9
D EVERY SIXng

 

  

56 The Snow Hunters: or, Wlnm in tho Woods. 1;,
Blurry do Forrest.
57 Harry Some", the Sailor Boy anieisn. By s. w.

Pearce. .
5'8 The Adventurous Life of Cu tnln
) Border Bay. Cul. Prentiss lngrnlr’sm. Jack, “I.
59 LnIne‘ Tim, the Mills Boy of the Mines. By Chm)”

"ff 3.
60 The Youn Trail liuntern- or New York Bo
Grizzlv Laird. liy T. c.l-lnrlmu’gh.’ y' l"
61 The T'ger Hunter-miI or. 'l‘lls Colorsda Boys is El.-
phunc mi. By Jose? EiBndgerplr.
62 Doctor Carver, the ‘ Evil Spirit ” of the Plains. By
Cal. Prrntlss In rnllsm.
68 Black Horse ill, the Bandit Wrecker. By Rog"
64 ssmm'fliil k T n. c A n
'ounlz e n o 3 or 0's Ron h and Tumhl
mm (mm New York to éslllmiia. 3’; A. W.Allwn..
65 The lioy Pilot; or, The Island Wrecker. By Col.
66 T‘l’reiitiss Ingrzilinm. St D k
lo. eser (wt! or ownwa it: A
Arabs. By Charles li til-rill. y man: we
6’? Terms Chm-lie, the Boy Ranger.
lllg'nlmm.
68 Little Rifle: or. The Young Fur Hunters. By Captain
“ Bruin ” Adnms.
69 The Young Rilllllqi. or A Yankee Boy Among the
Russilms. By (‘luirles n orfis.‘
70 Pony the Cowboy" or. The Young Marshall’s Raid.
liy Maj" H. B. Stoddard, Ex—Scout.
2‘1 lixril’ liohsurtund ills Beur. By Csptsin “ Bruin ”
“HIS

By Col. Preniiss

72 The Iqe Elophnnt. Bv Cnpt. Frederick Whittaker.
‘2’3 'i‘ll‘e Boning- Moose-Hunters. By William H.
l lllllllIlK.

74 The Boy Coral-Fishers. By Roger Starbuck.
75 Revolver Billy, the Boy Ranger ofv'l'exus. By Col.
Prentiss Inzruluun. ‘

76 The Condor Killers. ByT. C. Harbnngh.
7’? Llld gdrll‘nheéls, the Young Tiger Flgiltsr. By Roast
"If “C A
78 Fluthont Fred. By Edward Willett
tlm Hnntnr. By-Cnptnin F. Whittaker.
y Ben, the bong Rifle of the Cascades. By
now s. nrlmck.
81 The. R t Carson Club. By T. C. Harbnugh.
92 Little But-k. the Boy Guide. By linrry Ringgo'd.
88 Pony Roll, the Rm-klvss Ridur. By Col. P.1ngrshnm.
84 (‘npil‘llu Fly-hy-Nl ht. Bv Joseph E. Badger, Jr.
85 (‘untnin Rniph the cum: Explorer. By C. D. Clark.
80 Little. Dnu R elm. By Morris Redwing.
'1‘ K- . ngerie Hunters. By Mn‘. H. Grenville.
88 The lioy Trumps: or. Life Among tls Gipsles. By
J. M. iinfi'mnn. .
89 ’i.ong~hor(- Lijc. By C. D. Clark.
00 Having limouvuaierfn Little Scout. By T- C. Hsrbssgh.
91 (Dr-ego" Josh, the Vl izurul ‘Ritle. By Roger Sturbuck.
92 llurrlcnne’ Hit. By A. 1‘. Holt.
98 Jun-ping Jnkc, the Colorado Circus Buy. By Bryant
llnlnnridgr.
94 Sum Foe-loo. (he Brondhnm Buy. By Ed. Wine“,
95 Moscow to Killer-in; Or, A Yankee Boy to sh. new“,
ll‘y Churn» Alum _
96 Fighting: Fred. y 'l‘. C. Harbuuzh.
9? Cruise oi’lho Flyuu'uy. By C. Dunning Clark.
98 The Roy ii Hunters. It in. H. B. Stoddmd.
99 The White ' ‘luerfl. By lam. Charles Howard.
100 Tile Snow-Shor- 'l‘rnil. By 5%. George Rsthbane.
101 Mnrlnno, the Ottawa Girl. By Edward S. Ellis.
102 The Flyawny Aflont. By C. Dunnan Clsrk.
103 Put Mulloncy’s Adventures; or, Silver Tongus
llm Dlmnmli Queen. By C. L. Edwards.
104 The lioy Prospector. By Roger Sturlmck.
105 )‘iinonoo, the “'0an Witch. By Edwin Emsrson.
106 The Boy Cruisers. By Edward Willsit.
10'? The Border Rovers. By J. Milton Hull‘msn.
108 Alsmkn. the Wolf-Queen. By Capt. Howard Lincoln.

Bendle’s Boy’s Library is for sale hy sll Newsdulen,

five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt ofsix cents ssch.
BEARLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,

98 William Street. New York. /

  
        

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

109 ghé'lllfllan Jlln, the White L‘inn'n Friend. By Edwnrd
a

110 Plueky Joe, the Buy Avenger. B v J. M. Hofl'mnn.

111 This Border Gunmukur. liy llillu! L. Bowen.

112 Left-llauded Pete. By Jonnldi ‘ lindger. Jr.

118 The River Rifle». liy Cnpt. l . :. lidrunu.

114 Alone on the l’lninn. ll - E- wnrd “'illult.

115 Silver Horn, and His ltiile Firudcnth. lty Rnggr

Siarhuc .

118 Exfiloitl ol'llezeklah Smith, the llnckwondunsn.

Hy .merimu Itndmnn.

117 The Young Muntiinircrn. By (7. Dunnim.r Clark.

113 (“I1 Tra [4| ur, thu ‘lioy Iiiviils. By Burry llinggold.

119 Center at. the White Crow. Br '1‘. ('. llnrhnngh.

150 A "on Tnall; or, Cliuh ClowrlyAnioni: the Tundra.
B Charles Morrin.

181 ] unter Pard lien. By Roger Stnrhuck.

1%% T e Eluullnaux’ Queen. lly G. Wiildo Browne.

133 Tim, the Boy Acrnhnt. By (‘hnrlcs Morris.

124 aeen Bennie, the Borilurilirl. BylienryJ.Thunms.

125 ' om Tabor, the lioy Fugitive. B ' Barry Rinxgold.

126 Mlnk Coat, the Death-Shot. lly . n». E. lludger, Jr.

127 The Drer lluntern. lii- . hn J. Mill’flimll.

195 wanton ; or, The Niglitrlinwksuf the Fire-Landa.
ilv Capt. (,hiiu. Howard.

129 Silvernpur; or, The Mountain lit-mine. ByEdwimi
\Viilott.

180 Keetson, Qiiven oi the Plain. Ry 1‘t‘r4'y ll. St. John.

181 \Vlutnh. the minds”. in (mm. uienmn.

182 Thu Inland Trapper. y i'liiirlr-l limvnrd.

138 The Forest Specter. Hy Edwin-d Vir'illett.

134 Wild Nat, iiie I'roupier. By Win. it. Eyiitel'.

185 The Silver Bugle. By Licut. (‘0'. llazuliml.

18“ The Prairie Trapper. I (7. Dunning Clnrk.

187 The Antelope Bu '. ‘eo. L. Aiken.

188 Long Shot; “rm... )wnriGin-‘in. l‘.y(‘npt.('r~uisto<‘k.

139 Colonel Crookott, the Bear King. E. ldinnlle.

140 (Did 1",- il, thn Mnuntninerr. lly Len- \\'. L‘nrsnn.

141 The G ant: Hunter. lly Hurry linmrd.

149 Black Panther. the llnlmllimd. lly .1. l“. Bridger.

143 Oar-non tlmiinidn. By ident. .l. ll. Rnndoiph

144 Kent, t a Rnngar. By Edward 5. Elli~.

145 "Ill Robbins, llnntar. liy Edward \Vliiult.

, 146 The Half-Breed llhitl. ii} Jm. E. itndgr-r, Jr.

14’! The Mankcd A vcnzrr. Ry ('ul. i’runtixs IIIL'rllhiun.

148 Nat, the 'l‘rnppcr rind lndiiin Fighter. ily l‘nnl J.

Pronoti‘.

149 The Elk Demon: or, The Giant Bruthors. By T.
C. liarhnnzh.

150 Thu Boy MII-tan Jinan-r; or. Ennlniie,.tho
Beautiful Iii-mum. liy ‘l’i‘iiiflii‘k Whittaker.

151 Frank

. Kate’s winning. lly Just-pit E. Badger, Jr.

152 Wild “livi-n, this Srnnt. in- on i'ommm.

168 Lynx-(lap; or, Funr Trappern’ AIHOIIK the Sioux. By
l'aui Bihlis.

164 The Champion Texan Rider; or,,Red Bni‘liiio,
niid the lirmu en Hnnh-r. By llnrry St. George.

155 D'iiukg Diek’n Dom Bv Jon. E. llndgrrplr.

156 Frau llell, tlm l’ r.  'er Oil Cumin-.5. -’

157 Nick Doyle tho (and ilunii-r. B,- r. H. Myers.

158 Kidnapped hick; 0r, Tina Fate of the Fin: Fly. By
J. Siniili-v lirndemm.

159  Long Trail; 0r,Tthwln Scouts. By W. J.

lllll )l’l.

160 “an Trlplct’n Vow. By Hurry annrd.

161 The Mad Skip cr. By R. Sinrlnink. r

169 The Trapper ’lng‘. Ky Maj. Minx Mnrtlm‘. V

168 Simon Kenton Hunter. By Enn-rmn Rodmnn.

164 The Boy Chief-z nr, ank nnr. Compiirt.’ By on

Canines.
165 The Trader Traitor. By J. Stiiniry Henderson.
166 old Jupe’n Clew. By Mrs. Orrin Inma-
. 7 The Young Trailer. liv W. J. illllhlltoll.
183 The Specter pr. By hinj. Lewis W. Camera.
109 Lnnk Lute, the Old Cnlnrniln l-liintnr. By E. W.

Archer. V
“'0 Thu Whlte “'oli'. By Edward Wiilrit.
171. The Swamp Guide. By W. N. Mi-Nail.
17’s The Yaakco Peddlcr. By C. Dunning Clark.

178 The Scout, and III! Young Chum. By W-rren
St. John.

’1 91 The Boy Brave.

intern, tlm Yunng Trapper; or, Mountnhfihgog The village fipart.

 

 

174 Blackflmith Tom’l Monk. By Geo. D. Gilbert.

175 The Buoknkln Bid er. By Guy Greenwood.

176 The Sqnatter’n Surpr hie. By Mrs. H. J. Thonms.

177 Four Fellow Scouts. By .1. Stanley Henderson.

178 old Kit. and mu Connrnden. By Jon. E. Bruin-5.1:,

179 Unt-lc Grill’a Disguise. By Hurry Hazard.

180 The Marked Miner. By Lleut. (‘01. linzoltinc.

IS] The “'ilil lluntrcus. liy Capt. Bruin Adams.

182 The Dwarflhwoy. By Marc 0. Rolfe. ‘

183 Job Dean’s Tactics. By Ingoldaby North.

184 Yankee Eph’n Dilemma. By J. R. Wurcaster.

185 The “'liy “'lteh’a Ward. By Edwin E. Ewing.

186 Frank, the Furrier. By J. Stanley Hendermn.

18? Diana, the Fair illonlitninimr. By Capt. F. Whittaker.

.188 Jul'k’l‘ Snare. By Mrs. Ann E. Porter.

139 Sam, the Swnnrp Scout. By W. J. Hamilton.

190 The Darihiniz Trooper. By Frederick ll. Drwoy.

lly Janina L. Ban-«n.

192 Sandy itiii,’or1'.-xirs. n. Edward Willi-n.

198 Harry “'lnkle‘s Long Chane. By Wm. R.
Eyster. ‘ .

194 Creeper Unto, (he Shiiduw Swamp Triiiler. By
Fruiizrii‘k Dewey.

195 The Ranger Detective. lly Hurry llnznrd.

196 Gypsy Mag, the Muuntnin \Vitrh. lly C. Dunning
Clnrk.

‘l 97 The Branded Captain.

198 Old Cromilrc‘n Crinin.

199 Zebra Zack, thi- Ti-xnn.

200 The Namolcm Hunter. By George W. Rnhiiisun.

201 The Yankee. (liintlvim. liy Edwnrd “'illrtt.

202 Teddy’s Long Trnll. lly Edward S. Ellis.

208 Old flank. the Hermit. liy Edward w. Arrlwr.

204 Goosehrad‘n Bent Shut. By Jan. E. Bridger, Jr.

205 The Dntohnum‘n Dread. By Capt. Chris. linwnrd.

906 Kit Burt‘n Mask. fly W. .l. lininilton.

20’? Finale-Eyed Tim. By C. Dunning (Tlnrk.

By James L. Hawaii.

20” Buck Burt’s Pluck. By Edwnrd Willrt.

210 The Tell-Tale Bullet. By J. Stanley Hulldeuon.

211 The Boy Surveyor. By “I. J. Hamilton.

212 Yankee Drover Swipeii. liy Seciin Rohim.

218 Silver City Tom. By .liuni-a L. Bowen.

214 Nick, thn DI'lt'EliVG. By Edwin Emmon.

215 Multan; Rider Roy. By Alhiert W. Adam.

21“ The Dakotn Dutchman. By Maj. Mnx Mnrtine.

217 Y: ikce Jolh. Min Rover. By Boynton H. Belknnp,
M. ). Ready Jiriiott.

218 New York Ned in Califorula.

liiimiitmi. Ready Juno )6.

Kentucky Kate’s shot.

Rnndy Jill!!! ‘23.

By W. .l. Hmnilinn.
By Capt. Clinrli-s Howard.
By W. J. l'lnmilton.

By W. .l.

By Ed ward Willett.

2‘9
220 ’Frliii-o Frnnk’a Rival.
Ready Jam: 30.

22] Doctor Ban, Deuctivn. liy Lewis Jay $wii‘t.
Randy July ’I.

222 fily fliim‘n Snare.
Ri-ndy July ii.

lly Ynul J. Presentt.

By Lenin Lugnnd, M. D.

Beadle): Boy’il Library ll for "is hy all Newidulm‘,
fiva rents pvr imny or aent bv mnil on receipt afuix cenu «ch.

BEADLE AND ADAMS. Publlallers,
95 William Street. New York.