Copyrighted. 1887. by BIADLI AM: ADAMa‘. nnwmi M me Post. own, at Nuw York, N. Y” M Second Class Mall Manor. Dre. 3:, 155?.

$2.50 Published Weekl b Beadle and Adam: P - ,
VOL XVI 3 Yul"- No. 98 WILL¥AMYSTH NEW YORK. , “Verggnu' No' 

 

 

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‘ 8 I Creeper Cato.

 

Creeper Cato,
The SHADOW SWAMP TRAILER ;

OR,
The Hunchback of Dead-Man’-
l 1 Forest.

 

BY FREDERICK H. DEWEY.

CHAPTER I.
CAPTAIN DOWNING SMILES.

THE hot Arkansas sun shone hotly down upon
Dead—Man’s Forest, that vast, sleepy army of
trees which silently overlooked acres of treach-
erous swamp, silent glade, and tiny hillock.

, Why it had been so weirdly named. noone

' ,knew, as the name had descended from the ln‘

dians, and they had regarded it with awe as be-

in haunted with evil spirits.

, n extent it was some thousands of acres, some
' hilly, others level, and a great portion swampy
and gloomy. The trees were thickly planted,
and were giants among other trees.

,In the swampy regions the sun scarcely ever
penetrated the matted branches, and the how] of
he wolf, the scream of the catamonnt, and the
hiss of the venomous snake. and the scream of

' 5 {board in its depths.

.y',

On the afternoon of which we are speaking,
however, the gloomy old forest resounded with
the quaint tones of a negro melody, trolled from

. the lilps of one of the most sable n‘egroes who
ever noted a raccoon.

He was shambling along a dim trail through
the silent forest, id y gazing right and left, and

was short and stumpy, and was scantily

: ' _ apfizared to be wholly at his leisure.

r »

 

,.

u

  white eyes rolled always, never at rest.
_' . head was bare, showing a cranium covered with

 

dressed in an old cotton shirt, open at the neck,
and an old pair of blue jean pants, which were
much too short for him, being once the property

,: of a diminutive ho .

Hiszlips were thick and huge, and his lafige
1s

close-setting kinks of black hair, or wool. He
was very dirty, and was one of those headless,

‘ ‘ hggry vagabonds who haVe plenty to eat, plenty
0

me to sleep, and who care not what the mor-
row may bring. . * _

4 His name was Creeper Cato—from his aptness
and stealthiness in pursuing a trail. He once
had been a Mississippi slave, but had been freed
many years since—in fact, when he was quite

young, and he was now thirty—five. He lived
alone, and what he did for a living no one knew;
but he always was to be found strolling about
‘ Dead-Man’s Forest, or else asleep in his cabin,
which stood on the edge of the wood. He was
suspected of being in league with a band of out-
laws which haunted the woods, but, as nothing
bad was ever roven against him, he was allow-
ed to go unmolested. _
Creeper Cato emerged into a flowery glade,
with askip and a caper.
r “ Hi!" he" laughed. cheerily. . “ Ho! wha’ for
Dutchman any song war—bu" \

 

He stopped. and bending his head, mused for
a moment. Then he capered on, with a grin.

“Hil yah! ynhl ‘rolly, I habit!

“ ‘ Sugar Bob. Sugar Bob, Sugar Bob-(3e;

I eat a glass of lager and I run away to sea-—

Sugar Bob, Sugar Bob, sugar Bob-exec,

Zwei glass 0’ lager am what suits me.’ "

He grinned with delight at his song, and then
burst out again:

“ ’Wa down on de ole Gum's island,
Km 6 and a. fork a~stickin’ in de bacon—
Bacon, bacon, bacon plenty."

He had hardly finished when a huge man burst
from a thicket and collared him, with a series of
horrible oaths, almost knocking him down in his
violence.

“ Blast ye I” the new-comer yelled, with an-
other shake, “ hain’t ye b’en told ter keep yer big
mouth shot while ye’re in these woods? Do yer
want ter bring the Regulators down on us? Be
quiet, I say, yer dog!”

“Golly, Mars’r Fink, am dnt yo’ fo’ shore?
Golly, Mars’r Fink, I’s right glad ter see yer—I
be, fo’ a fad.”

“ Shot up! It’s nuthin’ but ‘ golly, Mars‘r
Fink" all the hull time. Now, it’s got ter be
stopped—d’ye understand?”

‘ Sho’, Mars’r Fink; mity you know I’s aluss
willin’ to ’bey orders? I tell you, Katy, I’s b’en
allus a fu’st—class creeper, ain’t I!”

“Yes, tolerable,” surlily assented the person
called Fink.

Then he mused for a moment. still wearing a
surl air.

9 was a rough backwoodsman, dressed in the
rough backwoods style, in coarse jeans, coon-
skin cap and heavy boots. He wore a belt, in
which were a pair of wicked-looking revolvers,
a small coil of stout cord and an ugly knife.
His countenance was sinister in the extreme,
and denoted he was a slave to his passions, which
were very violent. The cord was for the pur-
pose of bindingzpm'soners.

Prisoners? es; the man Fink was a despe-
rado.’ At the time of this story (during the
earl settling of Arkansas), in addition to the
hostile Indians were a race more feared, more
subtle and dangerous—robbers and cut-throats,
united in bands for purposes of plunder. He
was the second oflicer of _one of these bands.

_ “ Cato, I’ve got a job fur yer,” he said, look-
mg up. '

" Hi, Mars’r Fink, show ’em up; I’s allus
ready,” replied the negro.

“ It is to—- Hello! what hev we hyar?”

He started back suddenly, as a rustle was
heard in the thicket, and drew a revolver. The
negro, from some hidden place. drew a keen
razor with remarkable agility, and stood on his
guard, lowering at the copse.

A man burst’out of the bushes boldly, as it
fearing no danger, and knowing with whom he

was meeting. He was dressed in green through- “

out, with a peaked hat and high, shining boots.
He wore a belt, stuck full of weapons, He was

a handsome, genial-looking fellow, in the prime
of life, very agile and strong, as could be seen
by his sinewy limbs. '
His eyes were a deep brown, shining pleasant-
ly, and from under his hat peeped a few- short,
chestnut curls. His hands were small and shape- . 5

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were 'x» -

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um cm,y ..

 

Creeper Cato. . ‘ 3

 

ly, and were very white. His face was intelli-  wade~it would be death by suffocation; they

gent, and his head that of a. man born to com-
mand. Yet this man, whom, in point of looks,
any woman would welcome as a lover, was a
fiend within—a demon of extraordinary cruelty
and daring. His name was Charles Downing—
Captain Downing—and he was the chief of a
notorious and feared robber band—the same of
which Fink was lieutenant.

“ How are you, Cato?” he said, with a smile,
which disclosed a set of handsome, even teeth.
“ So you are on the defensive.”

The negro’s arm dropped, and he slipped
the razor into his bosom. Fink belted his re-
volver.

“ Golly, Mars’r Cap’n, Cato t’ink ole fool Injun
war prowlin’ ’bout.”

“ Nonsense, Cato: there are no Indians within
twenty miles. They are nearly all off on the
prairie, buffalo-hunting. We will meet them
soon, however, and it will be no harm to be wary
and cautious. I was just trying to find you—-
I’ve work for you to do this afternoon.”

“Dat's wha’Mars’r Fink done sod. Goll ,
I’se fearful dry to-day; cf thar's whisky in t B
can: ), I’se work my fingers ofli—hi, hi, hi i”

“ken shall have all you wish, Cato, after the
job is finished. I want to warn you about
singing and laughing so shrilly; it may bring
the Vigilantes down upon us. You know you
are suspected.”

“ Hi, yi! olo Creeper Cato done stove ’em ofl’
sobenteen times n’ready,” grinned Cato. “ Tek’s
Cato Creeper ter fool ’em, yi, yi!”

The lieutenant struck in, harshly:

“ Wal, thar’s an eend ter all things; so thar is
ter ropes. Ye‘ll find that out soon of yer ain’t
keerfui; yer he too reckless by half.”

“Recollect, Cato, that old man Jefl’ries is
casting a suspicious eye on you. He is very
shrewd, and if my suspicions are correct, he be-
longs to the Regulators. You cannot be too
careful; the oldest and slyest foxes are some—
times trapped.”

“ Whar’s de job, Mars‘r Cap’n?” inquired
Cato, impatiently.

“ Near the brown cabin,” answered Downing.
“ We will go there now; I am in a hurry. It is
neaglyysunset, and I have a pleasant mission to-
ur .

urning, he led the way through the quiet,
ghostly thickets closely followed by his com-
rades. For near y a mile they silently stole on,
warily halting at the slightest rustle in the
thicket. At, length they entered the confines of
a solemn, treacherous swamp, guarded by
droopingHtrees, matted vines, and quiet‘as the
grave. ere no song-bird caroled its merry lay;
its dark and gloomy depths the squirrel shunned;
while the “bank” of the wild-goose overhead,
the hiss of the ellow rattlesnake, the growl of
i the bear, and the wail of the catamount were
its only sounds. ’It was called “the Shadow
Swamp.”

The narrow trail they had been pursuing now
ran along the huge trunk of a fallen tree toward

.its matted butt. Here they stopped.

A gloomy, black expanse of thick, slimy
water lay before them, covering about ten feet
across in extent. How Were they to cross its
stagnant and deceitful surface? They could not

 

could not swim through its weedy, sluggish cur-
rent, and they had no boat. They wished to 0 ~
across, for the intently regarded a sma l,
thickly—timbers island which lay in the middle

of the pond. It was the robber stronghold.

Only a second they stood there. Then the
captain drew a whistle from his locket and blew \
three long blasts, quite shrilly; t en he paused a.
moment, and then blew twice, softly.

As if by magic, a boator “ dugout” shot out:
from the island, proEclled by a dirty, sinister- v ‘
appearing man, bew iskered and large in pro-
portions. With a single paddle he forced the
craft through the weeds and water-lilies rapidly
paddling carelessly. This man was not armed a
all, and he acted as if he had recently been asleep.
He had been, for his business was trifling and ,
light. He was the ferryman—the Charon of this i 
river Styx.  j

The distance was trifling, and the dug—out soon :
grated against the tree. Without a word they
slid down the side and stepped into the craft
and the boatman, Jack Dark, rowed or pziddl ‘
away in silence. The short voyage was soon v 3.
ended, and the men stepped ashore and left the
ferryman alone, all in silence. .. n

This was the captain’s order—that from the L“:
time the signal was given until the boat had” " ' 
been hidden away on the island, the utmostsi—
lence should be observed. No one dared break ,
this rule, for once a robber disobeyed and he -;.
suddenly disappeared, the subordinates of the’
gang knowing not whither. .

The island was level, and had. once been
heavily wooded, but now the center was cleared,
leaving a thick underbrush to the sides near the
water. Thus the interior was level and bare,
while the outer rim of tangled wiIIOWS and reeds
made it impossible to discover the retreat from
the mainland. - ,

Two cabins stood in, this clearing, equal in size, .
but of different colors. They were com ed 01 w ~
roughly-hewn logs set flrmly together 1: e inter‘, v
stices being filled in with moss and dried mud.
Neither had but one opening—one door which.‘
served for light and ingress. They were the.
common log—cabins to be seen anywhere ingthe.
Western or Southern States. 7,

One was occuBied by the oflicers and the
scout—Captain owning, Fink and Bob Grif-
fith. It was called the white cabin, because it
was composed of light-colored wood, with the .
bark taken off. The other was about fifty yards . <
distant, and was called the brown cabin, to disr
tinguish it from the other. This was occupied
by the subordinates. ' -

The three men emerged from the clearing," ,.
when they were challenged by a sentry. who 
started up from behind a lo . The countersign “’1
was given, the sentry slunk ack, and they went
on" toward the brown cabin. Captain Downing;
was vigilant and cunning. ,-

Several ill-looking men, armed to the teeth
were lyin in the cabin door, some dozing and
smokings ort pipes, while others played cards
and quarreled. A flerca black dog was chained
to 3. atom close by. He was a bloodhound—the ,
fiercest 0 his race. _

They walked up to the cabin, and the men
stepped gambling fora moment to watch Down“

 

     
     
  
 
  
  
  

 

ll 4 Creeper Cato.

 

ing’s hi 3. If he smiled, beware! evil was brew-
in . t he, was demure, he was watchin every-
thing With the eye ofalynx. If he aughed
pleasantly, he was in high spirits and his com-
panions felt easy and secure. But that was
seldom.

He regarded his men quietly, then looked to-
ward an object, prostrate, a few yards away,
and smiled (Lilletlf'. Then he became demure,
then said wit a p easaut laugh:

, v “ Well, boys, who is winner? Is anybody
I , bankrupt?”

“Spades trumps!” vociferated awiry fellow
who had‘been regarding his captain anxiously.
He had slightly offended him the day before.

.. . Hisface grew joyful, and as he swept his win-
; I niu s between his knees, he cried:
“ urrah fur Cap’n Downing, boys! three
~ ' and autigerl” _
,5 The cheers were given lustily. Downing bow-
,' ,ed with a look of gratification.

“ Thank you, boys,” he said.

Then he turned to Cato.

,“ There is your job. Bury that villain!”

He turned, and followed by Fink, walked to

.; _ his cabin, entered it, and closed the door. The
E“ 'men were hilarious.
He had painted toward the prostrate object.
, Cato walked up to it curiously. What was his
1* ,, horror at seeing the body of Bill Jameson, net
; ter known as Fighting Jim, dead at his feet.
3. Cato felt nervous. Only that morning he had
seen Jim alive and well and had spoken to him.
._ “He was now .dead. By whose hand did he die,
" and when?
As he stood gazing nervously down upon the
v 2. » departed robber, his courage failed. This would
’ make the third robber that he had burled in a
' month. They had all died by the hand of beau-
? tifu], girlish Captain Downing.
 The'scout, Bob ‘Griflith, came up to him and
J, . touched his elbow.
‘ ' “ You had better hurry up and bury him;
the cap'n is watching you. He is grinning.”
, The sweat starts out on Cato’s forehead.
-Without further delay he seized aspade and
‘dug the grava, than without ceremony rolled
:‘the body into it. Then he filled it in and stamp-
.ed the soil down, thinking all the time he might
be the next. '
 I After his work was finished the captain called
him into his cabin, and ordered ‘him to meet
 ,. him at a certain place when the moon rose.
 Then he gave him a bottle of liquor, and some
‘a money, and sent him away.
. After he had gone the captain mused deeply
3., ’ for a moment, then laughed.
ha ' ,“ Before long I will be a Benedickl” he said;
3- “a Benedick!’
“S eak to me, cap’n?” grunted Fink, from
his pife of blankets and robes in his sleeping
corner.
“ No; I was 'ust soliloquizing.”
' “Oh!” and ink dropped asleep.
The captain smiled.

lgv CHAPTER II.
" r. A WARNING.
_, ON the skirts of Dead-Man’s Forest, on the
v side opposite to that on which Creeper Cato
lived, was a ungusettiement on a hillside.

« .. ..:  ~ .'

 

   
 

 

 

 

 

  

 

It was very small, numbering but a dozen
houses or cabins, and in the center on the hill-
to was a small block—house.

The soil about the houses was somewhat culti-
vated and fenced, but the latter was hardly
needed, for the settlers Owned but few cattle
and these were “ kept up,” to protect them from
the Indians which infested the country.

The settlement, being on a hlll, overlooked a
fine landscape. On one side, and in close
proximity, lay Dead-Man’s Forest, with its
arches of gnarled and towering trees, nestling
knolls, and vast swamps—gloomy and specter-
like, forbidding and haunted. ‘

On the other side, the gazer looked upon a
glistening river, winding its way through fertile
and beautiful vales, dashing by bluffs and
bickering down ravines. The hazy hills in the
distance were tinted in the sunlight gloriously,
and would be the envy of many a master artist.

On the same afternoon in which the last chap-
ter’s events occurred, a young girl sat before a.
cabin, larger and more tasty than the rest,
dreamin gazing into the purple-tinted distance.

She was very beautiful. and her beauty was
of the pure and holy kind—virgin.

In her deep, earnest brown eyes a wonderful
mellow light played and gleamed, and at inter—
vals she sweetly smiled to herself. Her hair
was a rich red-brown, and fell in glistening
waves nearly to her waist, and was confined at
the crown by a bit of bright blue ribbon. Her
snow-white dress was short and displayed a
charming ankle and the comeliest of little feet.
Her hands were shapely and though somewhat
browned by the sun, had not lost their original
beauty.

But, though the form was of the fairest to
look upon, her face cast it into the_shade.

Blessed with clear-cut and regular features,
‘with sweet mouth and decided chin, it would
have been beautiful without her eyes, which
were deep brown and surpassingly lovely.

Lovely they were at all times, but now, in the
light of the setting sun, they glowed withanew,
glorious light—the light of a pure love.

She was the daughter of old Robert J eifries,
the prominent man of the settlement, and every
man, Oung‘ or old, in the village. would have
cheer ully risked his life for little Katie Jefl'ries.
Since his wife had died, (years ago, she was all
that was left to him, an be idolized her.

The sun went down, and still she sat there,
smiling and blushing. Her father was away on
some neighborly errand, and she was left alone.

But not long. A hurried, light step came up
the hill, a form appeared in the dusk light, and
she rose to greet a handsome, ath etic youn
man who sprung to greet her, embracing ting
kissing her tenderly.

“ My love l” he whispered, pressing her fond-
ly to his bosom. \

“ You are late to-night, Walter,” she said, in
affectionate reproach. r

“Yes. dearest; somewhat. But you know I
haves. farm, all my own, and I am working
hard now that you may grace it, next spring.
It won’t be long. my darling, and then think
how happy we will be. You will by your love

 

make _me better and a4 more earnest worker; ,.
and W111 save tor me, too; Wm}, Let V . n

  
 

   
  
   
 
 
 
    

 

 

. ~..,\ -‘

 

 

 

Creeper Cato. I  5 

 

He drew her nearer, fondly. She felt a de-
licious thrill and nestled close to him.

“ You will what?” she whispered, blushing at
her boldness.

“ Try to make life a sweet, happy dream, for
my darling.”

A few precious moments of silence ensued:
then young Ridger spoke:

“ I ve the nicest form in the settlement for
you, my darling. I have worked hard, it is
true; but even when toil was the hardest and
most trying to my patience, I have dissipated
all discontent by thinking whom I was working
for. You don’t know how your love has soothed
me, my darling.”

“ Oh, you are too flattering, Walter; too kind
and noble. It is sweet to be loved as I am sure
you love me, and I have tried very hard to
please you; but iyou are too extravagant. I am
very happy in t e thought you care so for me,
but it is wrong—real “ l‘ong to talk so to me.
The truth is not to be spoken at all times, you
know.” ,

“ Well, then, if you wish it I will not. What
do you think of the new young man that has
come among us—Charles Danforth?”

“ He is very leasant and agreeable, but I do
not like him. a looks cunning and cruel. Be-
sides, I like to see men grand, powerful and
hardy—he looks too much likea girl. What is
his occupation?"

“ I don’t know. He does nothing but wander
away into the forest, where he spends nearly
two—thirds of his time. Dutch Joe said he saw
him in company with another man in a dug-out
on Shadow Pond, yesterday, but I believe it was
on] his imagination. He is not very smart
an clever, you know—he is simple.”

“Walter!” and Katie lowered her voice, and
nestling closer to her lover, glanced nervously
around in the twilight. “I am afraid of him.
Father distrusts him. He fears the existence of
a band of robbers in that dreadful forest.
You know men have gone in there and have
never come out.

“Besides that rich man, that trapper that
found the treasure somewhere in Mexwo. You
know the day he left us to go to St. Louis,
screams were heard coming from the woods,
and the peo is on the other side did not see him
come out. hen father found blood and marks
of violence in a small glade. Oh, Walter, I am
afraid somethin is wrong.”

“Nonsense, atie dear! everything is quiet.
There are no Indians here now, at least in the
neighborhood, and even if danger did come, am
I not here, my own?” -

“Hush, Walter! some one is coming; see!"
and she pointed to an approaching shadow.
Walter Ridgely withdrew his embrace and sat
in a‘more decorous attitude. Katie‘s face ex—
pressed discontent at the interruption. The
form approached: it was a man.

“ Why, Walter! it is Charles Danforlhi” she
whispered.

Walter arose to go. She can ht him and
begged him to stay—she was afra d to be alone
with him, she said. So he again sat down.

It was Danforth (or Downing, for he it was)
figmhing quite near, humming a jaunty

9.

\

/

 

“ Good-evening, Miss Jeifries,” he said, how-
ing. “And you, Ridgely; how is your healthi", ,'

He extended his hand to Katie, who took it '
reluctantly. Ditto Waiter.

Then he seated himself on the doorstep and ~'
at once began a lively, rattling conversation. ..
He was a versatile, vivacious conVorsatioualist, ‘
and had been educated well. To the backs, .-
woods girl, though she had lived at one time in F
a civilized community, he seemed a paragon of
learning, wit and beauty. ”.

But then she mentally compared him to “7111- ,-
ter. He had not the frank, honest gaze of the -
latter; and what women care more for, he did 7,
not have the powerful frame and strength of 1
young Ridgely. ’ C

After some time spent in conversation, which 
Katie sustained by monosyllables, and in which i
Walter did not join, Danforth arose. ~ 2 ~'

“May I see you aside a moment, Miss Jeff- ’-
ries?:: he asked. “I have something to say 13.)
you.

She acquiesced, looking disappointedly at
Walter, who watched them retireto a little dis-g.
tance. He did not like it. . c J “

When they had gone ashort distance Dan-‘3'
forth proposed a stroll down the hill. S e rang“-
fused, abruptly. He stared; he had expected a;
glad affirmative answer. He looked at Walter“;
and Captain Downing smiled. , ‘  ,

“Miss Jefl‘ries, how long has that young maxi 3,
been in the settlement?" ’  ' ,x

“You mean Walt—Mr. Ridgely'l r/He came“:
with us from New York.” ' ‘ i

“ Do you know his character?”

“ Perfectly; it is above re roach.”

The captain smiled and ta ked. .

“ Miss J efi'ries, I am the owner of one of the.
finest farms in the State of Ohio. I am alonein .-_
the world—friendless. Will you grace thatif '
home—will you make me happy by being my";
wife? I love you fondly.” A.  »

He spoke this in his sweetest tone, and withsg
his most tender glance, encircling her waist with 15*
his trim. She drew away abruptly, and stem-“’-
mer : r ' “ ’

“ Oh. sir, you cannot, you must not talk soto'l
me! You must not—it is wrong for me to listen
to you. Please let me go.” ' ’

She was flushed and irresistibly lovely. He
looked at her quietly for a moment, thencaught
Earl in his arms passionately and kissed he:

at v. ’ ' -

“My darling!” he passionately cried. A,

She struggled, ashamed, insu ted, shocked at ‘7,
his tones and gestures. He held her tightly, and "'43
pressed another kiss upon her. r > - V 31,.»

Walter, watching them jealousl from‘ théfi r
doorstep, saw the disturbance, an , mad with}
jealousy and rage, rushed toward them. She 1;;
escaped from Downing’s arms just as he reached; 
them. and glided to her lover’s side. v ‘ ' W".

“What do you mean, you rascal?” huskifyj‘g
gravvled Walter, through his clinched teeth. ' '. ,.
“fiascal? Take care, young whipperhsnspg '
“Yes, rascal— oltroon—villiani ‘ What dot,

  
 

 

  

 

 

 
    
  
 
 
  

 

   
 
 

you mean? Wha was he doing, pet?" ’ 
11 ii" “Sign 11' 
es, , er w ipper-sna per. ’2:

for her hand, like 5 than. She did3 not choose-t9? -~

6 Creeper Cato.

 

smile on me. I have no ill-will about it. I take
‘ it you are the favored one. Well, if you had
behaved yourself, I would not have borne you
any dislike; but you took offense, called me
, names I never before took, and now you stand
I « sneering at me. Whipper—snapper, you are a
“ scoundrell”
,3. Walter boiled over and sprung toward‘him
with dancer in his eyes. Katie as quickly inter-
' sed, holding him tightly, between him and
owning, so if he clinched with him he must
run over her body.
“Let me go, Kate! I command you to let me
go immediately.”
He was thoroughly aroused, the more so at
seeing Downing’s face wear a provoking smile.
He endeavored to elude her, but she still kept
him closely clas d. >
“I will not, alter; I cannot. Be quiet—
V_ calm ourselfl Do, Walter.”
5 ~ “ es, calm yourself, whipper—snapper.
your temper, bantam.”
The exasperating smile with which Downing
accompanied these pirovoking words maddened
, _' Ridgely. He took atie by sheer force from
‘  around his waist, and eluding her, darted to—

'- ward the robber. He was close upon him, with
53 his sturdy arm upraised, ready to fell the other

' to the ground, when she caught him. '

"‘ He was olf his guard; the wily captain saw it

 and dealt him a lightning blow from the arm-

pit. ' The blow struck Walter squarely between
he eyes, and he dropped like a bullock.

For a few seconds he was stunned, and sat va-

vcantly on the ground. Then he aroused himself
.  . and crawled to his feet.
x  His adversary had vanished, and was no-
?= where to be seen. Burning with chagrin, pain
and rage, he commenced wandering about va-
. cantly in pursuit. But he was too dizzy and
stunned to see plainly, and before he had been
on his feet two minutes he fell again; the girlish
fist of effeminate Captain Downing was hard as
a rock, and was backed by the arm of a black-
smith.

Katie sunk down beside her lover, astounded
~ at the sudden change in affairs. Shocked at the
captain’s ungentlemanl conduct to her, burn-
ing with sorrow at her over’s harsh action in
putting her aside—these were but trifles com-
* pared with the intense shame at seeing him

whipped and vanquished. She was as much
, aghamed as her champion, thou h diml con-
Scions that she had caused the ’saster y un-
guarding Walter.
She raised him to a sitting posture, and pil-
‘lowin his head on her breast, wiped the blood
from is face with her handkerchief. The moon
 ,had just risen, and by its strong light she saw he
' G, had received a herculean blow, as his eyes were
V red’ and swollen, his nose was bruised and bleed-
y"; ing, and he was weak and stunned—scarcely
" - more than conscious.

She began to cry piteously and stroke his fore

“head when a harsh voice behind her glowled:

. “'lthot in, thunder air ye doin’ thar, gal?”

_ She turned quickly; her father, a sturdy man
21:! the prime of life, was regarding her curious-
ly. He was an odd mixture of fun, moodiness
and good nature, and united the most repelling
face and voice to the kindest heart imaginable.

Keep

 

  
   
   
 
    
  
  
 

 

 

 

   
 
 
  

1‘ x ‘ /.

 

 

He had been bred in a large city, and was per-
fectly “well up” in all matters which interest 
fast youth. he recognized the form of ‘vanth', ‘1
noticed his bruised face, and saw his daughter's 1‘
anxiety. At this last he chuckled.

“ Wal, what hev we hyar?” he said, going
down on his knees beside them. “ We hcv a
couple of moss-agate eyes, and we hcv a Roman
nose. Wal, what air we goxn’ ter do with ‘em?
Why, we air goin’ to cure ’em. Why didn’t yo
do suthin‘ fer ’em, gal?”

“I did not know What to do, father. Oh, dear
father, please relieve him-——I know he is hurt
terribly. Do, please, father.”

He bustlcd about the cabin, struck a light,
and rapidly procured some vinegar and salt. . g
Then he took a cup of water, and making some ‘ '-
mud. formeJ the three ingredients into a paste, 5.
which he clapped on Walter’s eyes. '

It aroused him instantly, and smarting from
the salve. he staggered to his feet, and looked
vacantly about; he had received a terrible blow.
Kate affectionately supported him.

“Lie down—lie down!" commanded Jeffries.
“ D’ye want ter start the blood a-runuin’, an’
make yer eyes like a hearse? Lie down and
keep stilll” _

“Where is he?” inquired Walter, making a
faint show of determination. “ Where is he?”

“ Who?” inquired J effries.

“ Charles Danforth, father. Oh, he struck
poor Walter as hard as he could, right on his
poor forehead.”

“ What! yer don’t mean to say that '1‘] Dan~
forthknocked him down like a. beef 1 w ipped a
feller that cleaned out six Pawnees, one after
t’otherl Wal, I will—that’s good.”

“ Oh, father; he wouldn’t have done it if I 
had not caught him when he was going to strike. .
I held him, then Danforth struck him.”

“Yer did, eh! yer did; and yer promised to
be his wife Gal, I’m ashamed of yer. It’s
foul—it ain’t ’cordin’ to the rules of the ring—
wal. we]; and yer claim to be a Jeffries.”

Walter, who had recovered his senses, here in- .
terfered. r .

“ You see, sir, she meant good—she tried to I
prevent a fight. 80 she tried to stop me—if shc

adn’t, I would have given him a thrashing.”

“ Thank you; thank you Walter,” said Katie,
with a grateful glance at him.

“ What was the mill about?” asked J efi‘ries. ; , ‘

“ He treated Katie like a—a—” '1 "

“What I” vociferated the father. “ Treated
my daughter like what?”

h “£19 threw his arms around her and kissed
er.

Jeffries’s eyebrows sunk down over his eyes,
and he breathed hard. He was aroused.

“And ver got hit flghtin’ for my daughter,

did ye? Well, youn feller, yer did right, and
I’ll remember yer. nd him, too,” he resumed. *
“ I’ll make his hide smart.”

Without further parley he walked away down
the hill toward the grocery, or rather cabin, for
there was no good “ store” in the settlement.
Katie knew what was his errand, and she also
knew he was not to be turned aside from his
purpose. But she tried to alleviate his wrath,
and called out: . f

“ Now, father, please think before you speak.” _- . _ 

I . \. ' .

_.~..,mr- \,

4.

- is

 

_, we...» 1....

s 'g
i.

3

   
  

, l l

 

 

 

 

 

Creeper Cato.

 

 

He muttered some reply and strode down the
hill. Three hundred yards away was the pro
vision cabin where Danfoi-th stayed when he
was in the settlement. It was kept by a Ger-
man named Hans Winkler. It was not a
“ store,” for the few families which lived in the
neighborhood weretoo poor to require such a
thing. But the old German, thinking to turn an
honest penny now and Lien, had brought on a
few staple articles from the Eastern States,
which he retailed out for furs, produce, etc.,
making a large profit on everything.

The cabin stood on the bank of the river al-
ready mentioned. To this J efl‘ries strode, and
after listening for a moment, knocked at the
door loudly.

No answer. Hans must be asleep. He knocked
again. Still all was quiet. Then he halloed.
Yet the cabin was still.

He turned away, provoked; his bird had elud-
ed his wrath for the present. Resolving to pun-
ish him severely at the first opportunity, he was
striding away, when a faint voice, seemingly
far away, came to his ears:

“ You are treading on dangerous ground ; take
carel”

He stopped and listened intently; all was still.
The placid stream flowed on quietly, leaving no
sound; the night was still. He started on.

Before he had gone a yard the same voice
runafut in clarion tones, near, loud and shrill:

“ on are treading on dangerous ground; take
care!”

The sound proceeded from a gron of willows
a few yards up the river-bank. e darted to
them. He entered their gloomy recesses, ready
against surprise, and searched them through; but
though he beat them for an hour he found noth-
ing, and. heard the mysterious voice no more.

'Then he went home, wondering intensely.

 

CHAPTER III.
“BEWARE!”
WALTER, after being nursed awhile by the
tender hands of Katie, hid her an affectionate

good-evening and started toward his lonely
echelor-hall, which was situate beyond the

.cabin of Hans Winkler a mile, and down, the

stream. Half of the distance home lay through
the settlement, while the other was rendered dlS-
mal and gloomy by the road’s running through
a projecting cape of Dead-Man’s Forest.

1; was a onely, gloomy walk to take in an un-
settled country, and through a skirt of such an
ill—omened wood. But Walter was sturdy, bold,
and armed, and thought nothing of it.

He strode along with his hands in his pockets,
musing. His thoughts were partially pleasant
and gloomy. He had been unable to avenge an
Insult oifered to the girl he idolized; he had been
“ knocked out of time” by an effeminate with
and manger the salve, his eyes were purp e and
swollen, and his face was bruised; never mind—
he would search out Danforth in the morning.

He passed Hans’s cabin and noticed it was
dark and silent; then he continued, whistling.

Before him lay a short reach of open, moonlit
glnrln, then came Dead-Man’s Forest.

Evorv thing was in perfect re 89. In front
the dark, somber woodlstretch away; behind

_ ye don’t mean to say ye like h

 

hot and uncomfortable, she left it opal-to aim.

was the settlement,’ sleeping on the hill; and
around him was the ghostly, quiet glade. ,

“ You are treading on dangerous ground; 
take care i” -,*

Hallol who said that in such a quiet, far- i ‘ .=
away voice? Who spoke? Hallo] “2

The voice did not reach his ears—he did not . i‘
hear it; but it spoke for all that. He went on. '

He was plunging into the haunted forest; in
another moment he would be lost to sight in the
ghostly mazes.

“ Ypu are treading on dangerous ground; take
carel

He did not hear the warning and went on.
He passed a thick tree in the middle of the wood;

a man lided out from behind its trunk; there
was a ull, heavy blow, a deep, rattling groan,
a fall: and a man was bleeding on the ground in ‘
Dead-Man’s Forest. ,

Robert J eifries returned to his cabin, very
much out of humor. His revenge was yet to
coma); he was forced to wait; and he ground his,
teet .

A light was burning in the little cabin when,
he entered, and Katie was sitting by it, sewing.
She looked very sweet and lovely as she sat ,
there, and his heart first softened, then became r“;
adamant; let any man insult her—the tenderest, .
purest girl in the world. ‘ 1,;

She greeted him with an anxious look.

“ Well, father?”

“ I couldn’t find the villain—curse him i” ‘

“ Oh, father, I’m so glad i”

“Glad of what, gal? When a. man insults ,ye ,
and its ont’n yer tather's reach, air .ye glad? “ ’

“ h, father, he wanted me to marry him)! 
(This with a.blush—‘—very red.) .

“The skunk l" »

“ And I am glad because you did not have a
quarrel.” ,

“ I ain’t; I’ll fix himl Marrylyfiu’l Why, gal,

I am afraid of

 

  
  
  
     
  
 
    
  
 
  
   
 
   
 
 
 
  
 
 
  

.“ No, father; far from it.”
himfibfig’perhaps—perhaps- g l
“ Perhaps he—loved—me—so he could not con;
trol himself. I am sure he is not to blame for

loving me.” V. >.
They never think the less‘

 

I
A woman all over.
of a man for loving them, however low he may
be. If they did they would he disparaging
themselves. - V
“ I guess yer’d better go ter bed—I’m going.” V
She arose and lighted another candle and then,
kissed him tenderly. I
“ Good-night, dear father,” she said. ‘ ‘.‘ ‘A'
pleasant ni ht and happy dreams. I know You“.
will feel so ter, in the morning. Good-night.”
The cabin contained two rooms; one sarer as
her sleeping-room, the other the kitchen, parlor, -
dining and her father’s sleeping-room. r ;
She had a bedstead with a soft bed, pure and «
white as was she: be had a double blanket, With
a valise for a pillow; she had a window in her
room large enough for a bear to clamber through;
he had none. - 
The window was of glass and opened like a
door—on hinges. It was about five feet 1er
the floor and was usuall kept closeds‘at night
with a button, but as t 0 summer nights wrr

 

“ ammrizznwi r- s :m;.:'- = sum. use. at ,mux:-n.m:wwwma.wm

V 8 Creeper Cato.

 

the cool breeze—in her innocence never dread-
ing harm.

he went into her room and closed the door,
her father directly going to bed, sleeping on his
gun; Robert Jefl’ries was wary.

' After she had gone to bed and put out the
candle, she lay thinking of Walter, smiling, and
feeling very happy. In the spring he would be

J. her husband.

After she had thought and happily dreamed a

; delicious wide-awake dream, she felt cool.
Should she close the window? She had better;
she had grown timid of late. .But she called her-
self a timid, weak thing. and resolved to leave it
open. She did; and went to sleep.

“ Trouble is coming; take care i”

Hallo! away down there in the dark, grim
wood. Who is talking at this time of night?
Hallo!

She went to sleep, so did Robert J eifries, and
the window was open.

The moon rose into the zenith and looked
down from her pale face upon three different
ob'ects: a forest, a river, and a cabin.

n the forest a silent form lay cold, still and
bloody, near a thick tree; a man stood over him,
looking quietly down upon him.

The watcher spoke in a strange, far-away
vo ce:

“ Trouble is coming; take care, take care.”

, He turned and was gone with a very white
face, a silent, swift tread, andacold, glaring eye.

On the bank of the river a negro cre t back
and forth by the cabin of the German. e was
evident] waiting for some one, as he sto ped
now an then and peered intently towar the
cabin on the hill, then kept his cree ing pace.

A man kept along a dark sha ow, stealing
toward the cabin. 'He drew near, then listened;
crept on a little, then listened again. All was
quiet; he stole up to its walls, then stopped and
listened. a third time.

Jefl’ries was snoring inside. He crept round
tothe other side and stood under the window.
Inside was beauty, innocence and virtue; out-
side was beauty, cunnin and wickedness. He
placed his hand on the si .

. Creakl

He peered in. By the pale moonlight he could
see the fair girl in deep sleep—deep and placid.
The pure white covering fe l daiutily_ over her
as she lay there, with a smile on her 11 s, and a
sweet expression on her face. She was reaming
of him.

He could not hear her breathe—it was too soft
and gentle; but he could tell by the gentle rise
and fall, and by the placid expression of her
face, that she was in a deep sleep.

Crest

He stood for a moment, gazing at her, with a
smile on his comely face. Then he turned and

‘ went from the shadow of the cabin out into the
bright moonlight. Drawing a white handker-
chief from his green coat he waved it briskly
above his head.

Down on the river-hank, near the German’s
cabin, a bright light glowed for a moment, and
a white object waved. Then both. disappeared.

He stole back with another snide an again
stood under the window.

Greek! .

 

She moved, then turned gently, smiling SWeet-
ly in her sleep as she did so, and one word es-
caped her ll s:

‘ Walter! ’

The man outside smiled sweeter than ever at
this and again Biased his hand on the sill.

“ Take care! ewarel”

He started as if he had been shot and cowered
under the wall in affright. He had heard a
loud, shrill voice away in the forest utter those
words, and a deadly fear overcame him.

For many times of late he had heard that
voice, warning him of evil; too many times he
had laughed at it; but now?

Creakl

He was thoroughly frightened and fairly shock
with fear, thou a ho] er man never trod the
earth. He mig t well shake.

He listened for a repetition, but it did not
come. Then after a few moments he recovered
and laughed at himself. and a ain for the third
time placed his hand on the Si] .

Creek!

Three times he had placed his hand on the sill
read to enter; it was loose and it creaked; but
the air sleeper, unconscious of danger, slept
sweetly on.

He listened and peered a last time, and then
cautiously mounted the sill. Half in the window
he stop ed, fearful lest the shadow might
awaken er; but she still sle t on.

He dropped lightly to the oor and crept to the

bed. Gazing at her as she lay there, a wicked .

smile crept over his lips.

A low chir came faintly to his ears; the
slee y chirp o a half-awakened bird.

e went to the window and waved his white

handkerchief, then glided back to the bedside.

A shadow fell over the room; he turned and
sawa round, woolly head in the window. He
smiled again and gave a gesture of satisfaction.

Thenrhe stole to the head of the bed, and took
a small instrument from his pocket.

It was a piece of wood about an inch and a

half square, paddled with cotton. with a string

knotted in both ends—it was a gag.

He reached Over, and with a quick, cunning
movement, placed it in her mouth.

Then, like a flash of lightning, he passed the
string around her neck; she was ga

1ggedl ,
She awoke with a start, and 100 ed wildly at

the man. standing over her. She tried to
scream—she could not. Then she rose upright
with terror de icted on her face, and her eyes
were a horrid expression.

She attem ted to rise and fly, but he held her
fast. He had is hands full in a double sense, for
she struggled violently, beating him with her
hands, her whole nature aroused. He made a
signal to the man outside.

He slid through the window with the agility
and silence of a cat, and stood beside him.

“Throw her clothing out of the window!” he
whispered. The negro obeied.
ed“ NEW get outside and ta e her 1” He clamber-

ou .

“ Here she is. Hal she’s fainted l” '

She had. Unnerved h the suddenness and
alarm of the scene, by e terror of maidenly
modest , she had fainted dead away and lay
motio ass in his arms. I . , ,

-.. a»... no. .

 

 

 

 

 

Creeper Gator I I 9

He passed her out to the negro who gavea
chuckle of delight at his lovely burden.

Then he swiftly followed.

Once outside he listened intent! . The heavy
breathing of Jetfries inside was t e only sound;
he was soundly sleeping. The worst, for the
present, was over.

“ We must lose no time!” he whispered.
“ Now for Shadow Swam I"

Silently in the moonlight they stole away,
down the hill, past the few cabins, sleeping
quietly. Katie’s fate was approachin .

She lay lim and quiet, with a white, scared
face, beautifu in its alarmed expression. He
clas ed her ti htly and burned on.

hen they ad 0t to the cabin b the river,
a faint shadow sto e out from it, an ran like a
streak of ii ht toward Dead-Man’s Forest.
They stopp , alarmed, and Downin , placing
the form of Katie upon the ground, rew a re-
volver and cooked it. Creeper Cato, whipped
out his razor.

Across the glade darted the shadow, and van-
ished in the recesses of the somber wood. Cam’s
teeth chattered.

“ Golly, Mars‘r Cap’n. l'se afeard." And his
eyes rolled.

“ Coward! afraid of what? Why, couldn’t you
see it was a raccoon?”

“ Oh, no, Mars‘r Cap’n; dat warn’t no ’coon.
Dis chile‘s hunted ’em ’nufl’ ter know ’em.
Golly, Mars‘r Cap’n! dat war a ghost sure ’nufl' i"

“ Pshaw! ghost! See here, don’t you suppose
I can see as well as you can? I tell you it was a
raccoon. By George, I believe the bloke’s
scared, sure enough.”

“Dat I am, Mars’r Cap’n—dat dis chile am!
Ole Cato giv’ berry much to be out’n dis ’ere
muss. I don’ tol’ ’yer, ca ’n Mars’r Cap’n, dat
war Obeah sure nuif. don’see’d ’em onc’t
afore. Golly! dis chile’s done igone dead 1“

“Hold your tongue! what 1 it wasa ghost?
Spirits cannot harm a man. If they did. there
wouldn't be a live man in all the world. I want
you to stop this nonsense right away. Don’t let
me hear another word of it! d’ye understand?

1 Time is scarce; come on, and keep‘stilL’Z
up his unfortunate prisoner, he mo- ,

Takin
tioned ato to follow suit with the clothin he
had dropped in his fright, and went rap dly
apross t e glade, closely followed by the ter-
rified negro. Five minutes later the glade was
deserted, and Katie, sweet Katie, was in the
hands of a villain, being hurried away to
Shadow Swamp. '

Hush! who is lyilfif cold still and bloody by a
thick tree in Dead- an‘s Ii‘orest? Who 'is there
to save him from a terrible death?

Hallo! who is talking in the depths of the
haunted forest when the moon is looking calmly
down! Who is silently glidin from shadowy
tree to moonlight lade wit ghastlfi face,
fiohfid‘ in white, wi a staring, steey eye?

a 0

Who is speaking in a far-away voice to'the
grail? Fight? What is be saying? Who speaks?

o .

“ You are treading on dangerous ground; take
care i”

“ Take care!” whisper tbfl forest echoes.
“ Take care!”

I

, never went off so

 

CHAPTER IV.

A SHARP GIRL.

THE sun rose as usual the next morning, and
Jeffries was awakened by its rays peeping
through his door; he rubbed his eyes, then sat
u rig t. ‘

“ 7a], old yeller-face,” he addressed Old Sol.
“Yer’ve cotched a weasel asleep this yer time
fur a fact. Wal, I’ll be durnedl asleeping at
sun-up! Bob Jeffries, this yer won’t do; Won’t
go down; it’s a lazy trick.”

He arose, stretched himself, and called out:

“ Hullo, in thar! You napping, too', 1'
Heighol arise! wake up! Go tor the ant, t on
slu gard, eta, etc. Katie, Kitty, Puss, Tabby,
wa e up!”

He received no reply; he called again:

“ Come, Kate, come! it’s time to get up.” ,

Still he received no repl ; he marveled, 101‘
she was generally up an about before he
was, and once culling was sufficient. He opened
the door and looked in, dreading some evil.

What was his surprise at not seeing her there.
He was alarmed.

The bed had been occupied, but her clothing
was gone, together With her own self; the win-
dow was open, and she had left by that means
of egress. .

This he knew, for to have gone out by the
door she must have disturbed him, as the door
opened outward, and he lay directly before it.
She had one out by the window. '

He rus ed to it and looked out. She was not
in sight; he became alarmed in ood earnest, ‘
and went hurriedly out of doors into the open
air. -

He went directly to the house or cabin of the.
nearest settler, Josh Dunbar, hoping to find her '
there. Bettie Dunbar was-a sweet young girl,

Katie’s bosom friend, and their cabin wash  

favorite resort of Katie’s. .

Hettie came to the door at his agproach, and

smiled gayly at him, not noticing IS dbturbed
appearance. .

“Have you seen Katie this morning—is she
here?” he asked, hurriedly. " ‘
“Katie? Why, no. I haven’t seen herrsince ‘
yesterday afternoon. What is the matter!” .

“Iduuno—I dunno. I’m afraid suthin’swrong; _

she ain’t at the house.”  

“Oh, she’s gone out awhile, perhaps, before ‘

breakfast " suggested Hettie.

“No, she amt-she don’t hev no time ter
0 a-walkin’ afore breakfast; she allus gets it . 31‘
erself.” ‘ _ ~

“ Are you ure she is not at the house?" ‘ '1

“ Sartain, sax-tain. She clim’ out the winder,“ w 

to boot.” ' ' 1
“Climbed out the window?" ' ’ "
“ Yes; thar’s suthin’ wrong. But p’r’aps she's
at some of the other houses,” he added, with a’
faint glimmer of hope. . .1 v _ . .
“She cannot be, for I have been up over ' fl .
since daylight, working at the ,window. ; I,
she had stirred from the house, I surely should I. "
{ram goticed her. She has not left it since day-
! .
‘K‘It's mighty strange-mighty strange! She
before.” said the anxious

father, gloomily.

 

  

. Creeper Cato.

 

“ Hello! what’s the matter with you, J efl’ries?"
echoed a stentorian voice, close at hand.

J eflries turned.

It was Josh Dunbar, coming around the house.

' He was a sturdy, stalwart man of forty or there-

abouts, good-humored and jolly, with the eye of
a hawk, the arm of a blacksmith, and the leg of
a savage, and, like J eifries, a widower. He ad
just been milking, and evidently drinking the
tempting fluid on the sly, too, for his bristling
mustache was suspiciously creamy.

“ What’s the matter with you?” he reiterat-

ed.
“ Father, Katie has suddenly disagpeared,
zgry strangely, and Mr. Jeflries is muc alarm—

“ Disappeared?”
“ Yes; nothing has been seen of her since last
’ night. She is not at home.”

“ Hohl she’s at some of the neighbors’.”

“ No, she is not. I have been here ever since
daybreak, and no one has left the house.”

‘ Ha!” and Dunbar started.

“ What’s the matter?” asked J etfries. The
other came forward with a rave, solemn face,
and laid his hand on his shou der, quietly.

' “ See here, Rob, I’ll not heat about the bush,
but will out with it. Last night, about mid-
, night, I was awake, andas I lay Quiet, I heard
’what I thought was an Indian yell, away down
the creek. got up and looked out the window.
,Tne moon was shining very bright, and all was
still as the grave. As I stood looking, I saw
something small and white glance for an instant
close to your houso, then a bright red light shine
down by Han’s cabin. Thinks I, something’s
brewing and I watched, but I saw nothing
more. but I heard somebod away down, it
, seemed like, in Dead-Man’s orest, say these
words in a far-away voice:

“ ‘ Take care! beware 1’ ”

Jeflfries started.

“ That voice I” he exclaimed, uneasily.

“ What, did you hear it, too?"

“ Go on i” and Jeifries gestured im atiently.

Dunbar stared, but went on. ‘ It was the

,strangest voice I ever heard, and I can’t give

'any reason for it, but a cold chili ran over me,

and I gen for my gun.
vs. V

He stopped short, and Hettie turned pale.
J eflries gave a gesture of irritation.

“ Go on i” he said.

“In a few moments,- say ten minutes, I saw,
or imagined I saw, a dark object moving rapid-
ly down the hill. Part of it was black, part
white. , I onl saw it for about five seconds,

_ when it vani ed, and all was quiet again.

“ I waited for some time, then, seeing no
more, went back to bed, wondering. Just as I
was falling asleep, I felt a draft of air pass over
me, and looked up. Though seeing nothing, I
was sure that a presence was near me—a thing
felt but not seen.”

He stopped, and drew Hettie protectineg to
him and grasped J efl'ries’s hand. ,

' “l‘l’ow, my daughter I don’t want to alarm
* you, but though I could not hear it, something
‘ seemed,.a ,said.'. - V
“ ‘ Trou le'imflsbdow Swamp—take carel’ ”
'es.looked*nneasy and seriously alarmed,

It was a voice from the

/

  

while Hettie grew very white. Dunbar watch-
ed them both steadily, then said:

“ Now, what I think is this. ”

J elfries stopped hlm.

“ Hold! I’ve suthin’ ter say, too. It’s all
about thet rascal, Danforth—thet gnlish fuller.”

Then be related the events of the evening bc-
fore: the meeting of the lovers; the quarrel be-
tween Danforth and Walter; the latter’s defeat,
and the former‘s disappearance; and concluded
in a low, earnest tone:

“I was a-huntin’ for the villain, and was
down by Hans’s cabin, whar he stops, when
suthin’ said, ’pears like away off in the night:

“ ‘Yer air a-treadin’ on dangerous ground!
tek lreer, tek kccr!’

“ Wal, that voice seemed so far away like, I
hadn’t tcll whar it was; but as I war thinkin’,
it kim ag’in, clost ter my ears, loud an’ penrt,
ri ht from the bunch of willows jist above the
ca in. Thinkiu’ it must be Danfurth lnssclf, I
beat‘em all through spendin’ an hour at it;
but it was no go. Then, hafe scared, I kim
home. Dunbar, thar’s suthin’ wrong.”

“ I am afraid there is, my friend, very ap-

rehensive. l have always given Dead-Man’s

orest a wide berth since the red-skins have
been about, but I think the best thing we can do
is to search in it at once for Katie—for it’s my
opinion you’ll find her there.”

“That’s so, sartain. She ain’t ter hum, an’
whar she is no one knows. Great God, whar’s

‘my pooty little gal, my little pet?” And J etfries

buried his face in his hands.

“ Courage, m friend l” said his friend, kindly.
“Courage, per aps we are mistaken—perhaps
something strange though not of evil might have
turned up. Hettie, run to Sol J acobs’s and give
the alarm. Tell them to 5 read the men around
while I go down to Hans \ inkler’s cabin to see
him. Gather the whole settlement and send a
swn’t, lad for Creeper Cato -— we’ll find her
soon.

Hettie sped away toward the distant cabins,
making her white, bewitching ankles fly over
the ground; she loved Katie dearly, and with a

woman’s lightning wit, suspected the true state ,

of the case.

Once she had been strolling about on the her-
der of the Wood, and had overseen Danforth in
close confab with a trio of villainous, desperate-
looking ‘men, all armed to the teeth. Then,
again, she had seen him exchange significant
glances with Cato, whom she cordially suspected
0 en .

To use an uncouth but forcible (phraze, Hettie
was “nobody’s fool.” She linke several sus-
picious events, and by a little shrewd guessing
picked Dantorth to pieces.

Though naturally penetrating and keen, she
was un er the influence of the great se se-sharp~
ener—Cupid, and was thoroughly in'love with
gay, handsome Captain Downing. She loved
him with an ardent, whole~souled love, and
could have gainsayed him nothing. Fortunate
for her it was that the unscrupulous robber did
not know of her passion for him—very fortu-
nate; for he would ave caused her bitter mis-
ery. She well knew his impulsive temperament,
and avoided him knowing that to see him were

 

I .

only to give her love another impetus. ,

 

 

 

i
I
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5

 “33'

     
 
   
    

  
  

 

 

 

Creeper Cato. 11

 

 

Stop and consider what this backwoods girl
was doing, and see what a. heroine she was.
Cognizant of Downing’s ardent love for Katie,
conscious he did not love her, knowing Katie
was her successful rival, she was deliberately
doing all she could to protect and save her—she
who had so unwillingly outstripped her in the
love of the beautiful bandit.

She soon arrived at the cabin of Sol Jacobs,
and hurriedly entering, told them of the story.
Old Sol heard her through, heard her suspicions,
conjectures and fears, then turned sharply to
his son, a stalwart young fellow of twenty who
would have died for Hcttie, being devotedly at-
tached to her. .

“ Arouse the settlement, Eben!” he said, “ and
make your pins fly, too. Tell every man that
little Katie has disappeared suddenly—thaw]
bring ’em together short meter.”

Eben sprung away while Hettio lingered with
the women, who, cackliug all at once, plied her
with questions. Old Sol took down his gun and
rubbed the dust off the barrel.

The news flew like wildfire about the little set-
tlement. Men frowned and quietly took their
rifles from their pegs. Young men clinched
their teeth, and baring their arms, watched their
brawny muscles as they swelled with the arm’s
rise and fall. Then they clutched their guns,
and uniting together, clamored to start in pur-
suit.

The elders, thou b quite as resolved and more
worthy and i'elia le than their juniors, were
men of experience, and never moved rashly, al-
ways looking befoie leaping. They assembled
the youngers, and all uniting, started for Jeff—
ries’s cabin.

They had gone but a short distance when theyr
discovered three forms a proaching by Winkler s
cabin. They halted and) waited for them on re-
ceiving a signal to that eflect.

The were Cato, Eben Jacobs and Walter
Rid e y, the latter walking unstesdily. His
hes was bcund up in Eben’s scarlet handker-
chief and his face was livid and white. His
eyes were bruised and purple and his nose was
defaced. He was too angry and chagrined to
control his anger, but allowed it free scope. The
resutlit was that he was in a dangerous state of
mm .

They gathered round him, plying him with
questions, which he answered moodily.

He had been walking, he said, throu h the
spur of forest when he felt a rustle behin him,
and turnin , had seen a man with uplifted
bludgeon directly behind him. He tried to
avoid the impending blow, but too late; the
cudgel descended squarely upon his head, and
he knew no more until morning, an hour or so
since, when he was stumbled upon by Eben, on
his way to Cato’s cabin. - '

When asked if he recognized his would-be as-
sassin, he repiled in the negative. But he was
sure that it was not Danforth. He was a much
lar er man, being almost a giant.

urmurs of indignation and menaces rose
from the settlers, old and growing. They had
lon suspected the depths of t e grim forest were
the aunts of evil men, and they were now sure
of the fact. They were rapidly believing that
(limit Daniorth. too. was net what he should be.

 

  
   
  
 
  
     
   
  
   
  
 
 
 
   
  
   
     
 
   
   
  
    
 
   
  
    
     
  
   
   
  
    
     
       
   
   
       
    
        
      
   
        

but was connected in some way with Katie’s dis-
appearance, all being aware of last night’s
events.

Walter was frantic when told of her sudden
and strange absence, and sick with fear and
doubt, raved to be gone in hot search. In this
he was seconded by Jeffi-ies, who was scarcely
less alarmed and distracted. According] ,hasty
arrangements were made; ofiicers an scouts
were chosen; Creeper Cato, stood ready to fix
upon any trail, trace or mark; and the hearts
of the whole band beat as one. I ‘

Sol Jacobs was chosen chief, as being an old
Kentucky Indian—fighter. The next in command '
was Jefl’ries. The scouts and flankers were the
keenest. sharpest young men in the settlement,
under the supervision of Creeper Cato.

Before long they were wending their way down ' '
the hill toward the forest, Cato grinning with
delight, the only agreeable person in the party.
The women stood by the little block-house watch--
ing them depart; and though many feminine
hearts were sad, none Were so heavy and torn as
that of sweet Hettie Dunbar, watching with red,
swollen eyes, the departure of cunning,,eanieat
men, to bring to harm her lover. I I

In a. few moments they were out of sight, and
the women went back to their cabins sorrow-
fully. But Hettie mounted the narrow Iadderin
the block-house and sat drearin alone, sadly
waiting, trembling lest at any moment she
should see her heart‘s idol brought back wounded ‘ _
or dying, and in disgrace and shame. -

 

CHAPTER V.
A FIENDISH DEED.

DOWNING and Cato hurried away through the“;
forest, toward Shadow Swamp, Katie mean- , , _
while lying unconscious in her abductor’s arms. I . j
But, w en they arrived at the pool, and etc ped ’ ’
and signaled for the canoe, the cessation o the
jolting motion aroused her and she opened her,»

eyes. . .
At first her senses were scattered, and, sheldid‘ -
not remember the startling occurrence which,
had just taken place. But y degrees her wan~1
dering thoughts collected, and lookin at the
dark, grim trees, the still, pale light of t 6 money,
the sable form beside her, and at her own villain- '
ous cnptor, she realized all and her heart sunk.
The incidents, one by one, with startling distinct- j.
ness rushed over her; the sudden awakeningand
fright; the villain’s rude and immodest grasp of
her; the gradual fading awa into oblivion: all, v
with the terrible, sickening end of her fate to -»
come was too much for her, and she swooned’
a sin. .
gWhen she again opened er eyes she looked
upon four log walls and a mo of “ brush." She, .
was in a cabin.  j
The walls were hung with skins. weapons, uten- *~
sils and clothing, and last. in one corner, was a;
looking-glass—the pet of the dandy captain. The '
cabin was small, very small; but it was clean; v
Raising herself on her elbow, she looked around. ‘
In two corners were two piles of bufl'alo-sklns
undressed, and blankets—evidenth medas beds.
A round short piece of a lo stoo on end in the
center 0 the room, evident ‘ a am]. This, With

  

  

    
 

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x

 

 

 

  

Creeper Cato.

 

 

  
  
    
 
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
    
   
   
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
   
  
  
    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
   

her own couch, completed the scanty furniture
ofthe cabin.

'She was lying on a bed which had been pre-

ared for her, and she was delicately covered

y skins. Her own clothing lay near.

. In a few moments the door opened, and Cap—
‘ tain Downing entered. He found her dressed
and sitting vacantly on the stool without power
to fly and escape. He had evidently taken some
ains with his toilet, as his green coat was care—
ully brushed, his hair was arranged, and his
boots were cleansed of all soil which generally
adhered to Lem.
. He bowed racefully in a manner which
would have re ected cre it upon many a “ car-
pet knight."

“,Ahi” he said, softly, “ I am very glad to see
,you are able to be up and about. Please accept
my sincerest Wishes for your health.”

he did not raise her head, but sat as if in a
trance. He went on:

“May I call you Miss Katie? Please do not
be offended if I do. It seems so much more
pleasant than cold, formal Miss Jeffries. Bo—
eides, my ardent regard for you causes me to

' use a more familiar title,”
, But she did not notice him. After watching
,' n for any effect his remarks might produce, he
lounged gracefully upon his pile of robes, and
. ' took a meerschaum from his pocket.
,1; “A relic of former days,’ he said, in a mus-
" ing tone. “May I so far trespass upon your
good-humor as to smoke? A vice to which gen-
tlemen are much addicted. The dear ladies,
however, in their sweet graciousness, not only
’g’rant their permission generally, but protest
they ‘like the perfume of a good cigar.’ Here‘s
V ‘to the ladies—one in particular, the bonniest of
” them all. Having no claret to quad their health
in, I am forced to be satisfied with a meer—
7 schaumand very villainous tobacco. MissKatie,
your own health.”
He puffed out a wreath of smoke with exquis-
7 its elfrontery, and smiled as a low moan escaped

.her  . .

“ on are looking lovely to-day, Miss Katie-—
very enchanting. If you only knew how my
heart bleeds for you in your present embarrass-
ing situation, you would at least reward me
with one of your sweet smiles. Lotus ho ,
however, that the present place may soon e-
como pleasant, even dear to you. I will do all
» ’ in my ower to make it so I assure you.” '

‘ His ,ast remark had the effect of Ipartially
‘ amusing her from her apathy. She ooked at
him mournfully, with a glance in which were
mingled grief, outraged modesty, terror and
’ contempt. He laughed. ‘

“ You are very beautiful—very lovely. When

is: gazed at me so earnestly just now, my heart

is faster than its usual went. and I imagined

. I'could detect a sly twinkle of love, too. Was
.mé surmise correct, Katie?"

v he rocked toand fro, groanin in sheer de-

ir and terror. His eyes snappe .

“ I'm like the boy who drew the nightingale in
' the lottery,” he muttered. “I’ve got her, and
now she won’t sing. Well, we will try the effi-
ca of force.” '

‘. o arose deliberatelyand stood before her,
‘W their eyes met. Hers were terror-stricken,

, f

.. . n-1, ,  ‘3.  : . _ I

  

 

like a wounded fawn’s; his glittered like a
isnake’s. Nevertheless, he spoke musically and
ow.

“ If the fair Katie is aware of the value of
obedience, she will temper her stubbornness
slightly.”

Her eyes wondering vacantly about, fell upon
a polished" istol hanging to a peg close by; she
noted it. e waited a moment, then laid his
hand uietl y on her shoulder.

Wit ’1 a wild, piercing cry she shook it off, and
darting away, clutched the pistol.

Never opening her lips, but piercing him with
her eye, she stood drawn to her full hight, her
cheeks pale, her hands quivering, and her whole
being aroused.

“ Stand back, you monster 1” she commenced,
in a ringing, gru‘iug voice.
your vile hands on me! Keep off, I say!”

’ She Was thoroughly amused, and her eyes
darted angry fire. Irresistihly lovely she looked,
and Downing, in spite of his chagrin at her op-
position, loved her ten times more than ever.
He gazed at h: r with his heart beating violently,
he was so affected by her resolute bearing.
Then his lip curled and be advanced on her.

She quickly cooked the pistol and presented
it. He halted. but moved slowly around her,
trying to find an opportunity for rushing in

and disarming her. But, impelled by her terri-

fied modesty, she was wary and kept him at
buy. After some time spent in gliding about,
he saw it was no use and changed his manner.

Dropping his arms and extending his hands,
he put on, with splendid cunning, a mask of vir-
tue. Throwing a wistful, pleading look into his
comely brown eyes, he murmured, in a low
voice:

“Lady, do your will and take my lifel See, 1
am unarmed and unguarded; shoot! Oh, dear
lady, to die by your hands were far sweeter than
to live and see you scorn me so, my love!”

His sudden change surprised her, but she was
too aflrighted to ose her advantage. He saw
she was in earnest. and he went on:

“ I do not, I could not wish to bring myself to
such a degraded level as to wish to do you harm.
If you knew how passionately I love you, with
what high regard I esteem your purity and
courage, you would at least refuse to threaten
me so. our harsh manner cuts me to the
heart; Believe me, dear lady, I do not mean you
ill—it you think so, you have only to shoot and
rid ypurself of such a detested object as I am to
you.

He groaned as he said this, and sinking on his
couch, buried his face in his hands. She
watched him Warily, though half melted by his
protestations. -

“ I brought you here,” he said, with his face
muffled, “to love and cherish you—to tenderly
care for you. If, after a time you did not like it
here, I was going to take you back. I But oh! it
wounds me to have you scorn me so."

“ I know too well your foul hypocrisy to be
deluded by it. You have brought me here for
evil, and you cannot den it. But this I tell
you—that if you lay your and on me but once,
it will be your last moment upon earth. Take

so":

“Don’t dare to lay

   

it in earnest, you demon, tor I am terribly

 

      
      
       
     
 

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1

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27

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f-
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Creeper Cato. l3

 

He groaned, then spoke, leadin l :

“ Oh. my love! please—"p g y

“ Keep your distance in language as well as in
manner, for I will brook no rude familiarity
from on!"

“ iss J efiries, won’t you try and cure for me?
Even if you cannot regard me as I would choose
you, you can at least endeavor to reSpet-t me.”

This last was a false move. With this lost ef-
frontery her ire and grief found a full vent.

“ Dare you sit there and ask me to respect
youi”‘she run out, in noble wrath. “ Dare you,
in the name 0 all that is pure and holy, to ask
me to look even pityingly upon you? Oh, sir,
it in your mother was a spark of womanly vir—
tue, if your father was a man of worth and
honesty, if you ever had a (pure sister, think of
them and then of yoursel at this moment!—
think of them and release me from this wicked
place. Take me back to my dear home; do not,
ob, sir, do not bring down the wrath of Heaven
upon you! Think of my poor father—of his an-
guish at my absence; think of the one who is to
be my husband; lease, sir, please pity and com-
miserate me. h, if you .could imagine my
grief and horror at being here, away from my
friends, if you could respect or pit my sorrow,

ou would at once release me. O , sir, for the
eve and in the memory of your mother and sis-
ter, please do so, and let me go, and I will never
tell of what I have been through here.”

He looked up in his natural expression, and
said, quietly:

“ I will at once release you and take you safelly
home if you will grant me a single favor. t
will not incommode you.”

“ Name it!” she said, hastily, with her face
lighted b a ray of hope.

“ I wil . It is to marry me.”

“ Mar you?"

She loo ed at him steadily for a moment, then

sunk on the stool with a shudder, wildly weep-

ing. ‘

“What is your answer?" he asked, with a
quiet smile. .

She did not answer, but sobbed and wept as if
her heart was breaking.

“ What is your answer?" and he smiled.

“ Never!” she sobbed; “ never l”

“ Very well-—very well.”

He arose and walked toward the door and
looked out.

“ By the sun I should judge the time to be ten
o’cloc . Now, Miss Jeffries, you will stay here
twelve times twelve hours without food or water
unless you accede to my desire.
to humiliate you in any manner, and will as
there is a reacher about forty miles east. f
you desire £3 unite your fortunes with mine, say
the word and before night we will be at his
house. Otherwise think of the terrors and an-

uish of slow starvation. I will give you an

our to decide. Reflect carefully, Miss Jet‘-
tries!”

She was in a critical and harrowing position,
without means of escape, as she had heard him
place a heavy log against the door as he went
out. The door opened outward p ly, in
order to confine any prisoner within._ scape by
the door was imposai lo.

I do not wish.

‘ some.

 

her strength, and she began to examine the
walls of the cabin. For a half-hour she beat
them and pushed at the heavy logs feebly; she
runabout sobbing, beating them with her deli-
cate hands until they bled; she mounted the
stool and searched the strong roof; she vainly
endeavored to force the door; she called on her
father and lover frantically: then, when es-
cape was only too vein, she began to pray, halt-
crazcd. ‘

At the expiration of an hour Downing entered
and closed the door behind him.

Then he folded his arms and quietly gazed at
her as she sat on the low, rude stool in a semi-
Stupor.

“ Well?" he said. '

She made no reply, neither did she raise her
eyes, but sot motionless.

3‘ Will you Le my wife and gain a protecting
husband ?“

AL  1”

“Are yen in earnest, Miss Jeffriesi Think
Well before you speak.”

“I am resolved 1”

“ Once again I enjoin, nay, entrant you to re-
flect. You are, metaphorically speaking, at the

forks of a road. One leads, if not to perfecta ‘ '-’

happiness, to at least an easy, indolent life, well.
garnished with luxuries; the other to a horrible, '
unknown death”,

“ Fiend l”

“I am, Miss Jefl’ries, Iacknowledge it. Yeti L ‘ ’ "

can be most tender and agreeable when I choose.
Ficndl that is a harsh wcrd, yet I take astrange
sort ofvyride in it.
life. ell, Iwill relate it. Meanwhile you can,
in listening, form some opinion of death by star-
vation. I love you fondly, tenderly, Miss Kate, '
as only one of m disposition can; and it is for
this reason that treat you so cruelly.
of the contradictions of my nature.
go on with my history. ”

He lighted 1

But 1 will

began in his rich, round voice, occasionally ,
making agesture with the ease of an experienced “

orator. 
' “I am anative of nowhere, and my parents
were nobody. That is, my parents either died f-
or deserted me when very young, as I was
found, a frail infant in the middle of one of,
New York’s busiest thoroughfares, in earlv

morning, bya young roystering bl do, rollin'g r ,

home in the morning. He took me t .a Found-
ling Asylum, and left me to live _or die—as my
nurses by their care or neglect, might will. ‘

“ I lived—after suffering all the ills and evils .
of babydom, and grew strong and healthy. '
WhenIarrived at the unripe and vicious age
of ten, an old gentleman, a retired merchant.'

attracted by the comeliness of my face and _j *
form, adopted me, giving me his own name— , 7

Robert Davis. . . _ ,
“ I was a quick-witted, jovial little shop, and
it I do say it myself, was very fair and hand- '-

Ieasily grew into the belief that I was ‘seme-' ;
thing superhuman—in fact a genius. one do to. -
berths President of the country. '

er
5
E
S“
5

As she thought‘upon her situation, fear lent, notwithstanding my good-nature andyaflabili, .

You do not know my early ' ' “‘I 

It is one . .

s uaint, costly pipe, and begging . _ ;
her pardon as po iter as any native of France, , " A

Being petted and caressed by all the 1 i a«’
women both old and young of the neighborhood,‘, -» 

 

 

,--. .;;-._warmers::mtqflnwmna—pmwmm.wm“pa-m V

14 Creeper Cato.

 

I was at times seized with fits of quiet, inordinate
cruelty, which made me a demon, and at these
moments everybody avoided me.

“As years went on these attacks became
more frequent and violent. Before, when
under the influence of them, I restrained my—
self, and was content with murdering all the
smaller animals within my reach. But now I
became more bloodthirsty and ferocious—at-
tempting, though vainly, the lives of all my
com anions.

“ Jlj‘hen they avoided me, and feared the very
groundItrod. This incensed me and I grew
/ more violent. At last, on my twentieth birth-
day, a fit, stronger and more uncontrollable
than any before, seized me. Without provoca—
tion of any kind I fell upon a comrade and at-
tempted his life. I failed, though he was made
a cripple for life, and I was buried in an Insane
Asylum. a monomaniac. I was not insane but
i only a monomaniac, yet that was sufficient to

.cause my incarceration.

“ In five years I was pronounced cured, and
' was freed. I went back to my old haunts,
penitent and resolving to do all in my fiower to
alleviate any sufl'erin I had caused. ut I was
too late; ihe friends sought were gone. My
. ado ted father was dead, the one whom I had
- ma e useless for life had one, no one knew
Whither; and weary of lingering: near the scene
of so much unhappiness, I went South.”

She slowly arose, pale, but firm and calm.
Smiting him with her eyes she regarded him
steadily until his own quailed. Then she spoke
in a strange, grating voice:

“Were I in the power of one ten times the
_ villain that you are; were I lookin forward to
a fate worse than death; were doomed to
eternal future pain and misery, instead of know-
ing that you can but take my life; I would still
have'the same answer—I shall never wed but
one man, and he is your 0 posite.”

“ This is your final reso ve?”

,“ It is my final resolve.”

f‘Very well. May you enjoy yourself then,
1:11:15; short life you have marked out for your-

   

He went softly around the cabin, and took
eve wea on from its walls, even the pistol at
her eet. ‘l‘heu, he opened the door, and looked
at her fixedly. . '

“ It is well i” he said, With a quiet smile.
“ Through this open door take your last glimpse
of nature. You will never see human bem or
outside world again. Farewell forever, iss
Jeffries.”

“ Ayi” she said. “ we will never meet in the
future world. I have but one single prayer, and
that is, may you forever be haunted by the ones
whom you have so flendishly injured on .earth.
God forgive me for uttering such a wish; but,
mark my words, if ever there was justice above
or- below you will be punished.”

He smiled on her. then turned and went out.
 The door closed and was barred: she sunk down,
overwhelmed; but a voice rung out through the
, forest, unheard at the island in Shadow Swamp.
‘ but sneaking still. and the words were ominous;

~ l “ Yuou are treading on dangerous ground; take

carol, _ '
She was left, without hope, to her fate

a

 

CHAPTER VI.
A DOUBLE BRIBE.

THE ursuing and searching party wound
swiftly into Dead-Man’s Forest, with Creeper
Cato in advance._ He strode boldly along,
whistling and singing jovially, though keeping
a sharp eye upon every thicket and matted
copse. In addition to is razor, he carried a
huge knotted bludgeon which he trailed along
the ground. When fairly in the shades of the
forest, he commenced a favorite melody, with
great gusto; ’

“ Jawbone walkin’, jawbone talkin‘,
Jawbone eat with a knife an‘ fork;
Jawbone broke an‘ de marrow—J

“ Dry up!” sternly ordered Sol, the leader.
“ Don't yer know thar’s Injuns skulkin’ round?
let alone the gang of rascals i know hide in
[these yer thickets. Ef yer don’t yer’d oughtcr."

“ G011 , Mars’r Jacobs, I’se done prowled
’round t ese yer woods fur dis long time an’ .I
done never see’d any gang. Ef thar was one,
old Cuto‘d know it, shore.”

“ Curse me of I don’t believe you do,” men-
tally declared Jacobs. “ I guess I’ll keep an eye
on the nigger.”

They were in a small lade. Stopping short,
Jacobs turned and face the men, who halted
and gathered about him. After thinking a mo-
ment, he said:

“ Now, boys, yer’ve pretty much made up yer
minds how little Katie got lost, ain’t yer?”

An expressive grunt was his answer,

“ Wal, ’cordin’ ter Dutch Joe, this yer Dan-
forth ain’t what he should be, an’ in my opinion
he‘s in some way or t’other, got suthin" ter do
with it. Them yer sentiments, boys?” '

“ Ay, ayl” and “ you bet!” were his emphatic
answers.

“Now, Dutch Joe is rayther cracked, but he’s
right smart on commun things). He’s told me,
time an’ ag’in, that he seen anforth paddlin’
on Shadow Swamp pond, with a lot of hang—dog
men, armed ter the teeth. Now, or know
thar’s been sev’ral chaps gone in t is timber
that 've never b’en seen fer come out. Blood,

too, has been diskivored. Most every one has .

heerd yells come from this yer timber when
these yer chaps were in it—Kells of terror.
Bo s, yer know old Sol Jacobs as fou’t Injuns
an knows a thing or two; and yer know he’s
no person’s fool eyther. Wal, puttin’ this, that,
and t’other together, it’s my opinion this yer
Danforth is in cahoots with a gang of robbers,
and that whar he is at, the pretty little Katie
is.

Several exclamations came from the men—
groans from Walter and J effries, threats from
the young men, and murmurs of assent from
the elders,

” We], now, ter get little Katie back“ ag’in, we
must find Danforth. Ter do that we must hev
a trailer who knows the woods and who kin fol-
ler a blind trail. The best fellur fur that biz in
the outfit is Cato, here: and though I know he’ll
work fur nuthin’. still. he’ll work a darned sight
faster and surer with, suthin’ in view—pay,

$1.9M“),

“Golly, Mars’r J mobs. yer done speak do trnf
dat time, shore,” and the negro grinned in an-
ticipation. '

/

.(sx

.4

’ live] .

Creeper Cato. 15

 

“ Now, boys, What’ll yer give ef he does his
duty, whether we find her or not? Fur one, I’ll
throw in a dozen beaver-skins. Come, boys,
shell out!” '

They did so, giving liberally of their scanty
store of backwoods paraphernalia. One gave a

un, another a foundered pony, a vicious

roncho; another promised a small keg of
littuor; another gave a set of beaver-traps;
w ile Walter and her father, in their grief and
anxiety, promised all their earthly possessions
if she was returned to them unharmed.

After this no time was lost. Eager for the
search to begin in earnest, anxious to recover
the pet of the settlement, burning to meet and
vanquish the supposed gang of robbers, the men,
one and all, clamorcd to be led on.

Cato, who had been grinning from ear to ear
during the discussion, now desired to be left to
himself, assuring them he would soon find a
trail on which to fasten. Then all would be
easy.

“Wal, go oni” said Sol, impatiently. “No
one’s hindering yer.”

Cato answered by gliding of]? into the “ bush”
at a rapid, sneaking shamble. Eben followed
him closely. The negro turned, half-angrily:

“Mars’r Eben, ef dis yer niggah’s gwine ter
pick out do trail, he must be left ter hisself,
shore. Kain’t work when any pusson‘s
’round.”

“ I’ve got orders ter foller yer,” answered the
young man.

Cato dropped his hands to his sides.

“ Wal, den, dis yer niggah’s done give up de
job, fo’ shore. Kain’t do nuthin’ while pusson’s
round tramping up do ground. It must be
cl’er.”
h.The young man laid his hand significantly on

is un. ‘

“ con!” he sternly commanded.

“ Golly, Mars'r Eben! yer don’t shoot dis yer
nig ah?”

‘ ou bet I will ef yer don’t dust around
Time’s scarce; move on!”

“ at I will; (lat I will!” surlily answered
Cato. “ Mars’r Eben, dis niggah done gone on.
Call’em all ’longi brung de nll acki skreech
an’ yell all yer want! it don’t ma e no differ-
ence for Catol”

“ You_ threaten, do yer, yer black rascal?
Well, this I’ll say: et ye play us false, watch
out fur a bullet.”

“ Golly, Mars’r Eben! dis chile nebber cheats.
Fo’ shore I find um trail berry soon.”

“ Well, what d’ye stand there for? Curse yer,

why don’t yer 0 on?”
. ‘ Move on! ove on I” came in a high, warn-
ing voxce close by, in the opposite direction
from where the party were grou d, watching
their movements. 11: proceeded from a dense
thicket near at hand.

‘I‘ Hullo! whosaid that?” asked Eben, in sur-
prise. The negro turned gnaw, and his teeth
chattered with fear. e was thoroughly
alarmed.

“Golly, Mars’r Eben!” he stammered, staring
toward the thicket. “ Did er hear dati”

“ 0! course I heard it! w at was it?”

“ 9h, golly, mars’r! dis chils’s dead an’ done
buried."

/

 

“ It was a. man’s voice.
it is.”

The negro Stopped him as he was moving
away, grasping him firmly by the arm. '

“ on’t g0, mars‘r; stay eahi Dat om de
Obeah man."

“Pshawi”

“Yas, mars’r, I’se done often heerd um.
Obeah man no like ter be stered. Mars’r
Eben, yer’se done one deade yer goes thar.”

“Let me go! ta e your hand off! ef ye air
afeard I’m not. I’m goin’ ter see who ’tis.” '

He shook the negro ofl’, and, followed by the
party, who hearing the voice had drawn near,
plunged into the thicket, save Jefl’ries, who,
with his superstitions revived, stayed behind.
Walter in his frantic zeal was first. Dm‘ting
into the thick “ bush ” he forced his way
through the matted hazel bushes,cying vigilantly
every twig. The rest dispersed themselves
through the. ad'oining thickets and he was left
to himself.

sprung toward it and imagined he ca ht a

sudden glimpse of a misshapen form swif y re- ‘

treating.

The form was white as snow and was that
up arently, _of a hunchback. For a. moment
on y was it visible, then it vanished, and a hor-
rible. low, hollow chuckle rung mockingly out.
He darted after in close pursuit, but was brought
to a stand by a matted gra
an impenetrable barrier irectly in. his path.
Knowing from experience he could not penetrate
it he was forced to retreat and take a circuit.
ous path around it. He was very much surprised
for the figure had glided through as easily as 
he had been a snake. , -

He was some minutes in returning to it, an

when he 0!; there he was satisfied that hot pur-;

suit wo d be in vain; he must fasten on the
trail. Beiu familiar with this art, he

perfectly sti l and peered at the ground. It was '
soft, and his own foot-marks were distinctly “

visible, but they were the only ones. But he

went down on his knees and crept about, earnest- :

1y watchin

for any indentation which might
lead to the iscovery of the trail.

But his search

was in vain—no other besides his footstepsmsmd. ‘

the earth. ‘
Then he examined the adjacent twigs and

bushes to see if they were disturbed in any man-‘ .

ner by his passa 6. Then he examined the
grape-vine. Neit or were barked or bruised in
any way and had not been touched. According
to their evidence (at any time or place reliable
no one had passed by.

Now he was indeed surprised. He had, with
his own eyes, seen the hunchback disappear ‘
He had heard him chuckle,

through the vines.
mockmgly, and he remarked the sound was most

hideous and unearthly. Whoever he was, he)
was most sly and fox , and had left no

He was, ere this, entire y beyond his reach. /

him.

Here he was in Dead-Man’s Forestpin iii
gloomy depths.

was somewhat alarmed, and greatly astonished.
at Its mysterious disappearance. V
not one to stand and wonder at marvelom

‘3:

I will go and see who r ‘

earing a rustle close by he .

He had seen, he knew not
what; he had heard it mock him derisivelyg- he»
. was opposed by a strange, invisible toe; and the

But he was ‘

vine, which stood . ‘-

x

For a moment. a feeling of evil came over,

 

 

16 . Creeper Cato.

 

things; he was a young man of great energy
and almost distracted with grief, was impatient
at delay and in a hot fever to go on. He raised
his voice and called to Cato; he would surely
find a trail.
“ Cato! oh, Cato!"
No answer. He could hear at a little distance
the rustle of bushes and the breaking of twigs;
‘ like himself his comrades were ferreting about
in pursuit of the strange intruder. Now and
then, one would exclaim suddenly, then relax
1 into silence; then a low whisper would reach his
ears from an ardent pair close by.

“ Cato! where are you?”

I An owl close by, awakened from his midday
nap by the unusual clamor, screamed and
Ian hed:

“ oot, hoot! who, who—who are you?"

"Confound the bird! I can’t hear for his
cursed noise. Cato! oh, Cato!”

' “Ha! hool hum! Polly cook for we all, who
cooks for you all?” screamed the owl.

To one bred in the city the noise would have
sounded like a person speaking the above words
with a mouth full of pebbles; but he was ac—
quaian with the sound and was incensed at the
u roar. ‘

“ ago, come here, you are wanted; here is

* “51$”-
" Who’s that callin’?” asked some one close

I) ,.

y“ Walt Ridgely. I want Cato.”

The man took up the cry, and hallooed:

“Come hynr, ye blasted nigger; ye’r’ dee-
sired." V

But no answer came. Walter incensed, made
his way back to the glade where the were
standing when the cry was heard.  en he
got there he found it deserted. Thinking the
negro was away on a scout, he hallooed to the
searchin men to bring him back. The did so,
gallng Eiudly. But no answering ha 100 was

Q

ear . . .
r “The frontiersmen, thinking an important dis-
-' ‘covery had been made, came back, and soon all'
were re—assembled, plying Walter with questions.
Hal-elated the occurrence, and their faculties
aroused part of them went away into the woods
' , to recover the missing negro, leaving the father
and lover well-nigh distracted at the delay.
In half an hour (which seemed an age to the
latter) they all came back, vowing vengeance;
‘the negro had deserted. Brought to a stand-
still, they cursed and growled some, then enter-
ed into a council of war. ~'
Cato, on being left to himself, had taken ad-
vantage of the moment, and sped away at full
7 5 toward Shadow Swain , distant about
t ree.miles._ 'Arriving ,therefhe gave his own
pecuhar whistle for the captain, who soon ap-
‘ peared on the edge of the island.
v. The negro signaled him to cross. The cap-
tain disappear , then appeared paddling to-
ward him. He drew up by the projecting log
on which the negro was standing, and de-
manded:
,“ hat is wanted?”
I “ Demtrailin’ er, Mars’r Cap’n; dey’s all in
v aflah ’ tyer: ey’s gwine ter cotch yer an’

 

u .” .
‘Who? What do you mean?"

r‘,

" De squatters—day’s a—huntin’ yer.”

“ What! do they sus act?” ‘

" Yas, mars’r—an’ ey ain’t fur wrong, ,hi,
yi!” and he laughed uproariously.

“ Hold {:ur tongue, you blockbead! do on
want to discovered? How far are t ey
awa i”

" out two mile."

“Are they on the trail?”

“ No, set, mars’r- no, sar. Dem fellahs kain’t
foller trail—pshol’; and he turned up his flat
nose in contempt.

” Don’t be too sure, Cato; there are sha
men, old Indian-fighters, among them. e
must be vigilant—very wary. How came they
to suspect me?”

“ Dunno sar. Foun’ ’em red—hot dis mornin’,
all bunched up reddy‘ter foller on de tral. Trail,
dem fellahs! Sho!”

“ Did {on speak to them i”

“Spea to em? Golly, Mars’r Ca ’n, I’se de
fellah dat is leadin’ ’em; I’se de tel ah dat am

wine ter fotch ’em right hyar ter der Shadder
wamp!” '

The captain whipped out a revolver.

“ So you are, are you? Then you live—cock-
ing the weapon and aiming it at the negro’s
head—“ then you live just one-half of a Second
longer."

The negro threw up his hands in alarm, and
yellow with fear gasped out:

“ Gvg-golly, are r Cap’n, I‘se done—I’se
wro¥. ’

“ rong? Mind your speech! Ha! don‘t you
dare to move or I’ll pepper you! Now, you vil-
lain, tell me what you mean.”

He was in a dangerous state of mind, as could
be told by the ferocious smile he wore. Cato,
knowing him well, was alarmed.

“ Golly, sah—’Mars’r Cap’n; I’se done mis-
taken, I’se—”

“ Out with it !”

“ I’se yer—yer—de fr’end ob de cappen’s.”

“None of (your gasconade; I won’t hear a
word of it! ome, out with your lie I”

“ I done mean ter say l'se a-foolin’.” ,

“ Fooling?"

“ Yas, sar; 1’se de fr’end ob de cap’n.”

“ Trifler!”

“ Hold on, mars’r; don’t shoot. I’se de enemy
ob de fellahs!”

“ What fellows?”

“ De squatters—do Regumlators! I’se blind-
ini iem_” '

“ You mean to say you are pulling wool over
their eyes?”

“ Dat’s it, mars’r—I’se pullin’ hull bales ob
wool ober ’em.”

“ And that on mean to mislead them !--to
pretend to tra 1 me, and then take them out of
the neighborhood?”

“ Dat am a (210’! Hi!

“ ‘Jawbone walkin’, jawbone—’ ”

“ Be quiet. Did they ive you anything for it?”
As he said this he lted the revolver, and
Cato grew easier. His eyes gleamed at the
prospect of double pay, as he knew the captain
would give largely to avoid apigehension.
‘ “Yas, mars’r,” answered t black; “dey
done glb me heaps ob t’ings.”

f5!

Creeper Cato. , _ 1’3

 

“ What?”

“ Debblish peart pony, big gun, beaver-traps,
farms, houses, iots oh cows—”

“ You trifle with me, do you?” demanded the
cagtain, with a wicked smile.

ato became nervous again.

“ No, mars’r, Ilse speaks de trufi De young
fellah, Waltah, an’ de ole man, done said dey‘d
gib me do hull thug—farms, cows, de houses, de
hosses—”

“ Oh, they are anxious, then: well, I suppose
you will endeavor to earn your reward?”

“No, sah! I gits hafe ob it anyhow, an’ do
other am on de job. ”

“ Soho! Well, you’re a fine sort of fellow.
Cato, to be sure. Won’t you take something?”
and he drew a flask from his pocket.

The negro took it eagerly, and put it to his
lips, rolling his eyes in ecstasy as the fiery liquid
gurgled down his throat. Now the captain could
do aFIythin with him.

“ ow, ato,” he, continued, “ you have a1-
wa 3 been a faithful fellow, and have neVer been
su ciently rewarded. Now if you will mislead
them thoroughly—mind, thoroughly—I will give
you, not foolish weapons, or land which you will
never use, but money—yellow money.”

Cato’s eyes rolled. T e captain went on:

“ How would on like a hundred dollars, Cato
—a hundred yel ow dollars? You will be rich.

ato

“ Golly Mars’r Cap’nl whewi one hun’ud dol-
lars! Go ly, sar, I’se do it right good fur dat
much. Hi! den Cato am gwine back inter ole
Missip’, ‘ a berry rich niggah.’ ’7

“ I am glad you are satisfied. It is indeed an
immense sum—vegy large. But, Fink is calling
me—I must go. ow, just do your duty by me,
and you Will get your money and be a rich man.

' Now of]? with on!”

He waved his hand, and Cato, grinning with
delight, scudded away at full speed, very unlike
his usual lazy pace. Downing saw him 'vanish
in a thick “ br’ush,” then embarked in the “ dug-
out," and paddled back to the island.

 

CHAPTER VII.
A TERRIBLE TREE.

VARIOUS and many were the threats of the
settlers when Cato was not to be found, but they
were eclipsed by the settled determination of
Walter and Jeflries, who resolved to make him
pay dearly for his flckleness and desertion when
they met him. And no wonder they were in-
censed at his conduct. Aside from the delay,
which might prove serious, and which was pro-
voking, the thought that at this very moment
Katie might be suffering terrible evils. was one
of anguish to the two who loved her so fondly.

0f the two griefs, Walter’s was the greatest
and hardest to bear. While the father was
stricken and stupelied by the blow, and was in a
semistupor, Walter was kept nervously strung
to the highest tension by a thousand surmises,
suspicions and fears.

A hasty council was formed, questions were
made and answered, the elders gave their sage
advice, and they soon started off, with deadly
rage hob-nobbing with fear. '

Now Sol Jacobs was'to be the bloodhound, i.

 

e., the trailer. Once he had been famous for his
skill in the high and subtle art, but he had not
followed a trail for years. He was old, but still
strong and spirited. and in the shooting-matches
always carried off the prize. His old energy
still remained stench and his eyes were as keen
as ever. \

They started toward—Where? They did not
know. Then they Went to the border of the
forest, and began to look for the trail, the party
dispersing for the purpose. They had not long
to search, for they were singularly fortunate.
They had not been scattered above five minutes
when an exclamation was heard from Sol, who
was bending and looking intently at something,
bein only a few rods from the cabin of Hans
Win ler.

They hurried to the spot. Sol pointed toa.
set of tracks in some moist ground. One was
that of a small boot, neatly shaped; the other ‘
that of a coarse‘shoe, large and flat. Both were
pointing in the same direction—toward the for-
est, and by them he judged the partiestmust
have been moving ra idly. _

“Wul, boys,” said 01, “ ef I ain’t mistaken,
hyar’s the trail.” ‘

“How do yer knowthat?" inquired a sus4 .
picious settler. “ 1t mou’t not be the one we’re?
after.”

“Wai, but yer see it air!” returned Sol. a "
trifle nettled. “ Beka’se why? Whv thar’s only; I
one man in the settlement that wears such a.
boot, and he is that Danfortb. See, it’s trim
and neat—a store hoot. All ye fellers wears,
coarse ones, or rather moccasins. Every teller»
hyar knows that boot-mark, don’t yer? And,
then t’other; that thar is bigger and flatter——
more like some of yer oil’s. I’m cussed efI

know who it b’longs tor—darn me ef I hain’t. 1  ‘ I

don’t believe thar’s a man in the whole settle-”

ment that’s got a shoe like that. * Wal, it makes , 
nary diflerence—Danforth’s the man we’re after ' ‘ "

and Danforth's the man we’ll ,find. whether he's ‘
{guilty7 or not guilty. Them yer sentiments,
o s’. .
‘ You bet] Ay, ayl go on i” and many others
were the exclamations by which he was an-
swered. .
“ Ye’r’ all hyar’i‘" he asked, looking over his
followers.
“ All hyar!” '
“How many air ye?” - . ,
“ Fifteen.” ' _
“Fifteen brave, stout ,men. Wal, ye’r’ all '
ready? Come on! foller clost, boys; keep yer
eyes open, or months shet, and den’t tramp on '
the trail! yer we go after little Katiel" ‘
He started off at a round pace with the most
gigantic strides, bending down to see the traiiy
and keeping his gun at a trail. » _
The others followed, observin his instruc‘ _.
tions, and fuming to recover atie. Bettie, .
from her position in the block-house, saw them" -
emerge from the forest, gather round Sol, and ' . '
then start away rapidly and disappear in the
wood. ‘ She sighed. '
“ Ah l” she sorrowfuliy murmured, “ my darn
lin , I hope you will come‘to no harm.” ‘ -
fists the forest they plunged, just after mid:
day,swiftl pursuing an open trail. On they
went, ate ' 3 under drooping trees, string ,

/
i l o.

‘ \ .

 

 

 

 

 

18 Creeper Cato.

 

out across a glade, slinking into a dense cop-
pice, out again with a pause and a listen, then
on, followmg the plain trail. Never deviating,
never halting, always wary and watchful, they
went on; and the ghostly trees nodded. the sun
shone rerlly down, and all was quiet in Dead-

Man’s Forest.

Hallo! who is talking? who is crying aloud
when all should be still? Who speaks? Hallo!

A voice, borne by the wind, floated up and
into the air, speaking only a few, very few
words; but they were full of strange meaning.
The pursuers did not hear it, neither did any
one 9 se—only the trees in Dead-Man’s Forest.
But it spoke, notwithstanding.

Cato was on his way to meet the party, and
was running quite rapidly, when he entered a
small‘glade, one of the many that embellished
the gloom old wood. He drew back out
ofbsigbht, directly, and ensconced himself under
a us . c

What had he seem—nothing. Had he heard
any noise to alarm himf—no. Had he received
any warning about this particular 3 otl—no.

' Then why did he fear to emerge into t e glade?
Wh did he hide under the bush?

e could not tell. The moment he had set
his foot into the lade, a large tree in the center
of it attracted is attention; a feeling of fear
came over him. Nay, more—a feeling of posi-

, tive terror. He was absolutely afraid to enter
it!

Now there was nothing remarkable about
that tree—it was a common oak, rather devoid
of foliage. No man could hide in its top—a
coon would have been discovered by a green-
horn if he had trusted to its shelter. Its trunk
was of the size of a man’s body, not large enough
' to shelter 9. large man; no one could hide
behind it without rolling himself into a ball.
Neither had the tree that awkward appendage
' of a rope hanging pendent from a dead limb—
. nor the more awkward habit of staring a man

in the face as some trees do, as if they were
an. ing:

,‘Avoid me! this is. a weird, ghostly spot 1”

It was a. common tree—nothin more.

He watched it awhile uneasi y, then softly

. arose, and intending to skulk around the glade,
started stealthin on. But before he had half-
completed the circuit, a faint voice, seemingly
from a great distance, said:

‘6  1”

He did so, in a cold sweat, and shaking from
head' to foot. His eyes were fixed on the tree
as ifafascinated. What was the matter withthe
tree

His limbs refused to move as he essayed to

' _ flee. His eyes rolled in their sockets, and icy

sweat poured from him. Was be under a strange
'infiuence? , ,

With a superhuman eflort he gathered
strength, and wrenching his eyes from the tree,
started oi! on a dead run. ,

u Stop In ‘

He did so, nearly ready to faint with terror.
Half-fainting, his ignorant, superstitious mind
conjured up myriads of ghastly, grot no and

, fantastic objects, which floated before his eyes-
,. Imps £339 fantastic steeds snorting fire, blue as
—es hol; blue serpents entwined their hor-

\

 

rible folds before him; pale specters with awful
pale-blue countenances, grim y grinned at him;
a conflagration of lurid blue raged and reared
around him; new strange and terrible animals
char ed and rec arged upon him, never strik-
ing, ut coming fearfully near; and above all,
there stood the tree, new blue as all the rest;
blue, blue, blue.

A clamor, as if of ten thousand giants harsh!
wrangling, surged in his ears, riva ing the thro
of his heart. A fever took possession of him,
and made his torment, if possible, worse. He
strove to flee—he could not. He strained to
shriek, but strove in vain—he was a lost man.

And now a dog, invisible, drew near. He
could hear him come slowly on, panting. He
remembered the day was hot—so, undoubtedly,
was the dog. Dogs always pant and 1011 when
heated; hear him pant, pant, pant.

He sunk to the ground in despair, and he
could see the tree burning now with a blue fire
which waved fantastically. by degrees the
flames communicated with other trees; more
demons appeared: terrific giants drew near and
scowled down upon him; and still nearer drew
the dog—pant, pant, pant. ,.

“ Help! help I” he shrieked in agony.
“ He] 1” But the wind still moaned, the fire
wav and augmented, the tree loomed up, and
the dog drew nearer—pant. pant.

Was it resurrection day? was Dead-Man’s
Forest giving up its dead? were the ghostly vic-
tims, long since immortal, crowding around
about him demanding his blood?

“ Help! help!”

The dog drew nearer, and he could feel his hot
breath upon his face and hear the dreadful pant.
Oh, God! would no one come?

He started half-way up, all on fire. Was not
that an answering halloo, or was it the voice.
which spoke so strangely in the forest?

He had not much time to spare—the horrible
dog came nearer with his hot and craving pant
—pant pant. Once more he screamed for be]
until his tongue clove to the roof of h s
mouth.

“Help! helpl”

Hal that was surely an answer—a halloo.
And voices too-voices he knew. Footsteps hur-
riedly approached, the fires suddenly ceased, and
he could ear the dog panting far away. Some
one’s hand was laid on his head, a rough voice
sounded, confused sounds rung in his ears, and
Cree er Cato was unconscious.

W on he awoke he was surrounded by a large
party of men, who were regarding him angri y
and curiously. He did not recognize them, but.

remembering his recent peril, partially arose and ,

looked in search of the tree. .4

It was nowhere in sight. There was the glade
and the towering sycamores standing guard over
it; there was t e very bush he had concealed
himself under: but where was the tree?

“ How d’ye feel?" asked one of the rough men,

kneeling beside him. _ _
“ I dunno. mars‘r,” he said, smking down
drowsil and closing his eyes.
“Fee better?”
“ What’s de dog. mars’ri"
r‘“ What dog? Thar ain’t no dog with us.”
“ Are ye done shore, mars’r'l’" i

v

\

an !

 

  

. ground

Creeper Cato.

19

 

“ Sart’in.
men?”

Several answered in the negative. Cuto feebly
raised himself on his elbow and 10| hi d up.

He thought he rccognizod his qmstioncr; ho
surely had seen him somewhere And the
others, too—their faces were familiar. Yflas be
asleep and dreaming? Who were they?”

“ Whnr am de fiah—um it all over?"

He heard a low voice romark- “What in
thunder is he talkin7 ’bout? Darn mo of I don’t
think he’s done gone mad.” Then it was raised
interrogatively:

“ Thar ain’t b’en no dog nor no fire fileastways
m peepers don’t see my sign of any.”

t was a new voice that spoke, and Cato knew
it for the voice of Old Sol. Rising on his knees,
he gazed around on his companions. They were
the settlers, gazing at him moodily. He started
Ep sand grasped the veteran trailer by his horny

an .

“Golly, Mar’s Jacobs! Cato’s right glad ter
see yer heah,” he said, fervently. “ Ye kim in
der berry time. Cato war a’most gone,
mars’r.”

“ What was 11 i” asked the men, pressing
about him. “ Te us! did you see the gal?”

“No, mas’r, Cato done sec’d nothiu’ 0b her,”
he answered, mournfully. “ But do niggah sce’d

’ snthin’ beri much worse—he done see’d Obeah.
0h, Mars’r acobs, it was ter’ble—ter’blc.”

“ What was it? what was it?” were the impa—
tient demands. Cato peered round fearfully.
He was really frightened, they could see, and as
he was by no means a coward, they knew that
something had happened. Then, as if reassured
by the presence of so many brave and strong
men, he told his story. They listened with great
attention, and when, he was through many de-
clared their opinions in a few words. , -

“ Snakes in his shoes—the tre-mens.”

(They all knew he drank immoderately.)

, “No, snr, it wasn’t no tre—mens,” he protest-
ed, not yet recovered from his fright. “It was
too ter’ble—too hor’ble. Mar’s Jacobs, Cato
won’t be Creeper berry much longah. I
done heerd de voicchfo’ shore I heerd ’um.
‘Stop!’ it said; an7 for de life ob me dis niggah
hadn’t de strength tor move. Dat voice, mars’r,
dat voice I heerd; au’ dis niggah ain’t gwine tor
tech whisky ag’in.” ‘

“How did the voice sound? Was it like the
one we heard a little while ago?” asked Josh
Dunbar.

“J ess the same. mars’r—jess percisely the
same,” answvred Cato.

“ Hal” cried Sol. “ Hyar’s business! now,
Martin, stay with Cato—he’s too weak to fol-
low. Stay hyar ontill we him back. Come.
boys, come; hyar’s ter ketch that voice. It’s
suthm’ ter do with leetle Katie, 'sart’in. Come
on and cock the black feather 1”

He struck ,on the trail. which had been aban-
doned at discovering Cato insensihle on the

and rapidly “ loped ” 01?, followed
closely by his lltt e-army, who were of various
0 ions regarding Cato’s fright. Some do-
c ared with solemn faces and low tones that
Dead-Man’s Forest, always considered haunted
was surely so, and by a terrible unknown, an

Thar ain’t no dog hyar, is thnr,

that Cato had been under his influence; while

»

 

others as stontly insisted it was the punishment
which ungrateful liquor always brinfs u n his
subjects—the delirium tremens. 0 d 01, on
being interrogated, Only shook his head sol-
emnly, and evaded the answer—he had his opin-
ion, but it was for himself alone.

If Walter had not been so grief—stricken and
anxious, he would have longed to find the owner
of the voice (if there was one) and would have
done so if he had spent weeks in the task, for
he had had a limpse of him once, but a very
brief one; but 0 was now so troubled and fran-
tic he desired only to recover his lost treasure.

Away they went on the broad trail, fully sat-
isfied that in reaching its end not only Downing
but the voice would e found; and they wound
in and out among the trees in the grim old for-
est. They were within a mile of the swamp
when Eben, always keen as a ferret, suddenly
halted, drew his rifle to his shoulder and fired at
some distant Object.

“Missed, by thunder!” he angril cried with
a. and old-fashioned oath. “Bun erl”.

‘What was it, Eb?” inquired t omen, peer- 

ing cautiously around ready for an attack.
‘ The durnedest-looking chap I ever saw—a

hunchback. He was peeking from behind a,

tree.”
“ Which one?”

“ That big cottonwood. Whew; how he did ,

scam r."

“ ome on, boys!” shouted Sol, starting 01! in
the direction indicated. “ Hyar’s suthin’ wrong.’
We ken easy find the trail ag’in.” '

They followed pell-mell toward the cotton-
wood, but before they had gone half the dis
tance the same former voice, called out:

“ Halloo—o-o I” -

They halted short.

“ Do—n’t fol—low me.
Swamp. She is there.” , ,

They looked in each other’s faces, uncertain
what to do. Suddenly the voice added: \ r ’

“ You cannot catch me if you try. Go’ on to
Shadow Swam .”

When he heard this Sol slowly turned, and ‘

without looking back, returned to the trail, fol-
lowed by the bewildered men.

“It’s no use ter foller him, boys,”'he said: . i

“he speaks the truth. Le’s find the trailand
go on.”

They did, some grumbling. others alarmed, _ '

but all astonished and bewildered at Sal’s
strange conduct.
knew what he was about.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
somneonv IS GOING our. . r

THE day slowly dragged by as Katie, half-
n

crazed, sat on the low stool the cabin, and
pondered on her cruel fate. Hope seemed a
mockery—she knew she was in the power of a.
most nnprincipled villain, one who would belt
at no deed, however violent. to gem an end.

More death she did not fear—it was the” i

thought that it would nearly craze and ruin her

lover, and would how her father in a. premature ' i

, intul thoughts 
harassed her, and she was most unconscious-

ave that ave her anguish.
nghe’ mostgharrowing and

\

Take the trail to Shadow _,

But the sage old veteran.

 

. \rl'.

 

 

 

   

 

 

'a

' , ter feelings and resort to foul ones.

 

20 I Creeper Cato

 

when the door softly opened, and Downing came
softly in. 1.

He barred the door behind him, and folding
his arms, regarded her steadil for a moment.
He saw she was distressed an bowed by grief,
and that she was very faint from the lack of

y‘ nourishment, which she had not taken for near-
ly twenty-four hours.

Though disliking to see
her in this condition (as a man would dislike to
see his pet dog lean and gaunt) he still felta
thrill of savage joy. Cruelty was his predomi-
natin trait.

“ iss Joifries,” he said, softly.

She looked up in surprise, as she had not
heard him enter. ‘Then seeing who it was she
grew pale and looked defiant.

“ You will not answer?” he asked, in well as—
sumed mournful reproach. “Miss Jeffries, I
have come to ive you another opportunity of
ridding yoursel of this hard life. I did say I
would never return; but my ardent love for
you has outweighei all feelings of anger or
piqliiie Say, my dear Miss Jeffries, Will you
ma e yourself and me happy 3”

She flashed on him a glance of exquisite scorn,
then burst into wild weeping. He approached,
and sinking down on his couch began to pluck a

' _ straw to pieces, idly.

“ It's a l the same to me.” he said, indiflerent—
ly, “ whether you cry or laugh—at least in your
present mood and state. Were you, howaver,

L my wife, it would grieve me to see you distress—

ed. I love you ardently, devotedly: but con-
scious of my small chance of winning your af—
fection in a fair way. I quell my good and bet-
I am frank,
you see.” -
She turned her back upon him, and her pale
face wore an expression of deep loathing.
Whatever hopes he had cherished were dissi
pitted, his air—castles were demolished and felled
to the ground, and chagrined, disappointed. all
the malice of his treacherous nature seemed to

‘ leap into life.

Ste ping to the door and opening it, he said,
with is wicked smile:

“As you Will, my bird; if you won’t sing by
coaxing or threatening, you will have a dark
cover over your cage; you stay here only to
starve. Should you, when frantic with hunger
and despair, offer to accept my conditions, I

‘ 'will not relent; here you are, and here you stay.

Good-by l”,
The door closed and was barred, his footsteps

’ grew fainter and died away, and she was alone

—this time to certain fate. Though her heart
sunk and her brain reeled yet she did not
shrink—she would have die twice over rather

' than consort with such a fiend.

It was nearly sunsot. Creepin to the door,
whereawee bright light showe ,she put her
face close to it and peered out. It was a small

' chink, and by straining her eyes she could per-
' oeive objects atalittle distance.

In front, at
the end of a path out between a thick growth of
willows lay asmall craft lying on the bank.
Just beyond she could see a small bit of black
water. The craft was a “dug-out,” and in the
stern wasa paddle. Then she guessed where
she was. Recollecting the assertion of the cap-

' tale, that he was in command of a robber band,

 

remembering Dutch Joe‘s statements, and by ‘i
putting several other things together, she made 3
up her mind that shewas on the island in Shadow ! v
Swamp. l

Heavens! if she could escape! There lay the ‘
craft, within a few yards. By reaching it she I
could paddle to the mainland, and hide in the ,‘
forest!— in the gloomy, grim Dead-Man’s Forest! 1

She pushed the door gently. It moved. She ,
felt it give to her touch, and heard the heavy _ 1
log grate along the ground. Downing had beep {
careless in fastening it. She drew back with i
beating heart, and sat on the stool sick with
fear lest some one should come, and entering,
discover the log’s slight resistance.

Footsteps approached, but they were not
Downing’s. His were light and jaunty; these
were heavy and slow. She shivered with ap-
prohensmn lest the person should discover the
change of position in the log.

The person was Fink. he captain had or-
dered him to stand guard over the cabin until 3
relieved, his post to be at the rear of the build- V 5:
ing as the Wall was weak on that side. So he 1
stalked away toward it, just as the sun was set- '
tin".

She need not have been alarmed, for the ,
second officer merely trumped around several l
times, then sat down at the rear. :

Slowly the sun sunk below the tree-tops oi
the haunted forest; slowly the shades of the a, .
damp ni ht stole on; and the watcher in the ,3
cabin waited for night. trembling. s ' j' -

Darkness came at length, black and damp. ' ‘
There had been a little loud laughter and coarse
merriment. at the other cabin just at sunset; .,.
now all was still. She heard some one come to- l
word the rear of the cabin and speak to Fink. '
It was Bob Griffith, the scout.

“Come ter relieve yer, leftensnt. How’s all
inside?” ‘ i!

“ Hunky. But she won’t last long.” (—

“ Ay'! How’s that?” ' ; .

“ She don’t git anything ter nibble on.” « -

“ So? Capt’in’s playiu’ the game fine.”

“You bet! Nouse buckin’ ag’in’ him. Who’s
after you on the watch?” ‘

“Downing. From midnight till mornin’.”

Fink stalked away, and Grifiith sat leaning
against the cabin. Katie could hear him , -
breathe, and draw at his everlasting pipe. h v,

It Was dark now, very dark. He arose, ,  t
knocked the ashes from his pipe, whistled a bar v ’1 g .3»
of an old familiar hymn, and slowly sauntered "’ 4‘ 3
round the cabin. ~ ‘ '

“God pity the gall” he muttered. “ Ay, fur
thar’s no pity hyar for her. She’ll hevasad
life or death—it don’t make much odds which it
is. I’ll keep my hand off her—poor gall”

Sauntering around the house as be said this,
he heard a faint sigh inside; a sigh, long-drawn
and sad. , 4 ,.

“She heerd me," he muttered. “Poor gall” ‘ ‘ :

He went back to his station, and, lighting his
pipe, loaned .his bark up against the log walls' -
Eew and strange feelings arose within him, an

e was-

Hist! was not that'a light step inside? Was
not that the sound of the door moving? Was
some one coming in or going out? Yes; there
was some one going out, -

 

f’kfiw‘ma 4-”. .w,-’ a

i u
x-».-.+.4 . ,.

fi‘i

   

\

 

 

 

 

 

/

 

’ , was atrai

Creeper Cato. ‘ 21

 

“Durn me of I don’t feel cheap tennight,
helpin’ keep a nice gal close shot up, ter be
treated God knows how by the cap’nl It’s too
bad—too bad 1”

He softly rose and took a. step or two toward
the door; he heard a noise there. He was aware
that Downing was in the brown cabin asleep;
be well knew no other durst venture to the
white one at this time; what was up! He stoop—
ed and listened. There was a faint rustling as
if of the dress of a female, and a steady grating
was kept up on the hard round near the door.
He peeped at the log. t was slowly moving,
propelled by an invisible force. _ i

As he looked at the log, a fire came in his
gray, cool eye, and he softly went‘back to his
seat and sat down uietly.

“ Poor, pooty ga ! God bless her I”

And now a. quite perceivable creak came to
his ears, but he did not appear to notice it. He
smoked on with senses on the alert. Then came
a moment of silence.

Then a quick “swish.” He knew the sound.
Then rapid footsteps, very light and airy; and,
after a moment, dead silence. The guard peered
round the corner. Away in the darkness he
could see a dusky form at the boat-landing;
some one was down there. Somebody was tam-
pering with the craft, too; he heard a. paddle
drop across the gunwale.

“It’s none 0’ my business!" he shortly de-
clai ed. “ I ain’t here to watch the canoe. I’m
here to watch the shanty."

Bob listened for some time like a chased coon,
with his ear in the air and his eyes shining cun-

, ningly. Then he heard, very faintly, some one

climb up the huge 10g on the opposite side of the
water. Then he went down to the shore, on the
side of the island furthest from the landing.

'Drawinga revolver, he placed his hat on the

ground and fired. The. ball took out a. wee
iece of the crown. Then he fired again and
allooed for help.

“Turn out! turn out!” he yelled. “ Thai-’5
inimies on the island.”

He sprung into the water and splashed around
noisily flrln twice in rapid succession. He
could hear t e night-watch at the brown cabin
cry, “ Turn out! turn out!" and he could hear
him coining down at a rapid run.

“ This way, Bill!” he cried, running out of the
we 1‘; “this way!” ‘

n a few moments the whole robber force
stood grouped around Griffith.

He told 'them he had been shot at, and showed
the hole in his hat: he told them a foe was on
the island. A search immediately began, and
Downing darted toward the cabin.

The door was open.’ ‘Wild with apprehension
he struck a light and peered into the cabin.

It was deserted!

He went down to the boat-landing, running as
he never ran before. When he got there he
found the boat was one. His bird had flown!

“ Balked! fooled!’ he hissed, in rage. “Gone,
gone. gone i” '

“'Ha! ha! ha!” rung out a voice from the
mainland. “Gone, gone, gone! ha! ha! ha!’

He shuddered; then sat down on the ground,
scared, fridghtened. For once, Captain Downing

. otthe darkness, ,

 

It was very dark, and the ghostly echoes of
that cursed voice seemed as if they would never
die away. Sick with rage and disappointment,
with an icy sweat on his forehead, he staggered
back t? the cabin. I—In HAD RECOGNIZED THE
VOICE

 

CHAPTER IX.
THE COBPSE OF AN HONEST MAN.

THE next morning dawned bright and fair,
and the sun was ushered to the world'by. the
merry carol of thousands of feathered songsters. I
Brightly it dawned upon the settlement on the
hill; benignly on the merry, sparkling river;
pleasantly over the valley: but never did it fall
upon a busier little world than on Dead-Man’s
Forest.

Busierl—scarcely. On the edge of the swamp
lake were a dozen or more men. peering over at
the silent island; angry looks they gave; in the
island were the same (almost) number of men,

,equally reckless and bold, but far more wary

and wicked. The dug—out in which Katie had
escaped still lay where she had left it; and much
Cate/(who had rejoined the pursuei‘s) marveled.
He knew that something was wrong, else ‘it
would have been moored to the island, out of
sight; and his eyes, familiar with the island,
noted somef hing was wrong there, too.

Usually a faint, blue wreath of smoke curled
up from it, but now there was none. It was the
hour for the matin meal, too.

Could they have left the island entirely—have r
disorganized and deserted the old rendezvous?
That would account for the presence of the
canoe on this side. If so, then his reward was
gone, and his easy, vagahond life also, for he
should have to hunt, fish and work for the set»
tlers.

This idea was so distasteful to him that he.
grinned in vexation, and he resolvrd to “blow ’ _
the hull t’ing” should it cost him his/neck, for 
he knew the men would be enraged at his part
in the abduction. And he had nearly done '30 
when the words of a former speech of Dewning’s,
came to his obtuse memory: ‘ ‘hink twice be—
fore you shoot once, and then don’t go off at
half-cock.” !

Creeper Cato was a rodigy at pursuing a
trail, but he was no thin er, and quite too a t
to follow every impulse. So, you see, this litt e» '
bit of memory was something wonderful. He

profited by it. . I.

Noticinor a fish-hawk warin wheeling above
the slimy Iblack pond, he stepped out prominent-x
ly upon the log where the trail ended, and ave“
a shrill cry, on exact 'imitation of thato the _
hawk. The bird did not notice it; such birds .
never do, and Cato, far wiser than sage. men of .
nature, knew it. I

But in a few moments another or , an an-‘
swer, came from the enchanted, dark- ordered I
island. ' low, long, and mournful, Then Cato.
knew they were still there, that his party was
under sharp inspection at that moment, and that
something was wrong. i

It was well he kept his sable face immovable /

for Sol, watching him, heard the‘ answer an ~ , ‘1

saw no corresponding fish-hawk, except that
above the lake. However, he might be perched
upon some tree on the island. But the sugacim A r

c y, ' .

 

 soon

 
 

' Creeper Cato.

 

old veteran kept his peace, his counsel, and his
eye—on the negro.

“Ef I ain’t fooled, that thar island air what
is called Shadder Swamp Island, ain’t it, Cato?”
asked a. young man.

" Dat’s de island,” terser answered Cato.

“What’s this ’ere boat, Cato?” inquired the
chief eyin him keenly.

“ flat, ars’r Jacobs; dat am what am called
do do —out.”

“ a1, yer fool, don’t er s’pose I know what
a dug-out air? I’ve ma e more of ’em than yer
black skin is years old. But I want ter know
what it’s doin’ hyar, and who it belongs tor?”

“ Mars’r Jacobs, dis ni gah’s do ignoramus on
de subjec’ ” he replied, id y tossing bits of sticks
into the b ack water.

“ How in thunder, then, did ye know the sign,
the signal for them fellers over there?” indicat-
ing the island with his thumb. ,

‘Wha—wha—golly, Mars’r Jacobs! am dey
ober dare?” stuttered the negro, in perfect as-
tonishmeut.

‘ “ You bet they air! and you giv’ ’em a signal,”
declared Sol, sternly. The negro never lost his
self-gassession.

“ ignall golly, Mars’r Jacobs, I’se de friend
oh dfing.”

“ t gang? d’ye call them a gang? dum me
of it ain’t sootable.”

Walter here interposed. “ For God’s sake, let’s
be going! where is the trail? have you lost it?
0hZ Heaven! this delay l”

‘ Yes, yes; we’ll all go on,” repeated the
afflicted and stupefled parent, lighting up a mo-
ment. “ We’ll all keep on.”

Old Soil-[glanced at them pityingly, then looked
at the tr ' ; the had reached its termination.

“ Come, my 0y, cheer up. We’ll hev her
you bet! we will go on. Hyar’s the eend
of the trail, right hyar on this log. Thar's a
canoe—it must go somewhar. We’ll jump in,
as many as kin. Air ye all ready, boys?”

“All ready! lead on!” .

" All right; jump in, Cato, you’re the pilot.”

But Cato drew back, and leaped from the log,
and stood there with an alarmed and perplexod
face, looking new to the island, then back to Sol.

‘ “Come: none of er foolin’! jump in!”

801 saw his perp exity and smelt a rat. The
negro was in a quandary. If he went across
with the men, the robbers, as a matter of course,
would think that he had turned traitor, and he
would be shot dead before they had made half
v the passa e. The prospect of being slaughtered
by a sud on and unseen bullet was too glaring
for him to face—he would rebel. On the other
hand, he knew Sol suspected him of treachery.
and would enforce his command. If he refused
to enter t canoe and fled, he would be brought
to a sud en drop by the lightning hand and
murderous aim of the ex-Indian fighter. What
could he do? he was in a bad dilemma.

' The men looked at him, some in surprise,
others in wonder, and the rest, the majority,
surlil y. He felt that the eyes of both bands were
upon him, and that both would kill him in a
second it treacherous. He was betwixt two
very shppe and bad stools, one of which would
- be sure to  He knew his danger and per—

. caved his chance-450 parley.

l

 

“ Now, Mars’r Jacobs, an’ do rest ob de berry
kind and good mars’rs—don’t fo’ce do pore nig-
gah who.’ nehber done ye harm, ter sich a ter’ble
t’ing. Mars’rs. I’se a brack man—I’so one ob de
berry best an’ do berry true ob yer tr’ends. I’se
do fr’end ob do mars’rs.”

“What is all this tomfoolery?” hastily asked
Walter, turning to go out. “Come; do as he
tells you, immediately!”

“ Oh, Mars’r VValtah, don’t force de pore nig-
gah. Ma' s’r Waltah, dar’s death ober dar—fo'
God, dar am. Obeah, Mars’r Waltah—dar’s
hisn’s place. I’se (lone b’en ober dar onc’t,
mars’r, only onc’t. But dis chile debber go
ag’in. Fur ’tle place am ha'utcd, mars’r, by (16
mos’ ter‘ble gosses, an’ of dis Chile done fo’ced
tor go, he nebber come back a niggah, sure.
Now, don’t, mars’rs—kind an’ berry good
mars'rs!”

“ Ghosts?” exclaimed several of the most
superstitious. Cato saw his chance and doubled
the dose. Sinking 1115 voice to a shrill whisper
he drew near the log, and glancing fearfully
over at the island, muttered: /

“Dis am de Forest ob de Dead Man—do man
dat runs in_de woods ob nights. Mars’rs, I‘se
done see’d him—l’se done heered his’n voice.
An’ he libs ober yender, an” be don’ like fur no
one ter pester him. He berry mad, mars’rs,
w’en he am pestered, an’ be don’ want no one
ter set dare foot on de island. He hates de
brack man an’ be done swear he‘d kill um. Oh,
for de lub ob ebery t’ing, mars’i's, don’ send de
pore niggah ober dare.”

Several looked at Sol, half-believing the negro’s
assertions. That nettled the old veteran, and he
thundered out:

“ Air ye sech durned fools ter b’lieve his
trash? I tell ye thar’s game over thar—thar’s
wbar we’ll find suthin’. Didn’t ye hear the
voice. yesterday evening? Ef yer b’lieve in
sperrits, what more can ye want? It told us ter
come hyar, and we air goin’ over to that island
with the nigger, ef it teks a leg from each man.
Now, you mule, get in the canoe afore I make
youl

The negro trembled like an aspen, and rolled
out some unintelligible phrases, but Sol seized
him and thrust him into the dug-out, then
sprung in after him. There was room for
four more, and these places he gave to Eben,
Walter, Dunbar, and a tough, bold, squarely-
huilt young fellow, Hettie’s brother—Jack
Dunbar.

Orderina them to place their weapons in
readinessfhe shoved off with a paddle. -

“Now, or ’fellows.” addressing the men on
shore, “ e we’re fired on, jest blaze away at the
inimy’s smoke, and watch 'out for a chance at
knockin’ some one over. I b’lieve thar’s robbers
over tbar. Now, keep well peeled 1”

He submerged the paddle, and began to force
his way through the weeds, the water-lilies. and
the debris of dismantled, water-soaked limbs
and boughs, old and ugly snags, and rotten
slime. It was a difficult job. There was a

channel, or rather path, but it was known and!

noticeable only to the robbers and Cato. The
latter was glad Sol did not enter it, for be de«
sired to be as long as was possible in making the
passage. But chattering with tear, and expect-

 

 

 

 
   
   
 
   
     
   
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
  

 
 
  
  

 

L
ii
i
i

I out, and looked around.

Creeper Cato.

83

 

in every second tofeel the pang of a robber
bu let in his Vitals he sat in the stern, alternate-
ly groaning and blaspheming‘ while Sol paddled
on, the others kept in readiness for an attack.
and the men on shore were covering the island
with their shining gun-barrels.

At last, after tedious and exasperating labor,
they left the thick impediments behind, and
bowled away in comparatively open water,
half-way across. Still no shot from the silent
willows, still no defiance shouted, still all was
qulet.

They skirted around the fringe of willows un-
til they found the re ular landing-place of the
robbers. Seein it, 01 whistled.

“ By J udasl” e declared, using his strongest
oath; “ hyar‘s a re ’lar, beaten trail leading up
from the water. ow I know thar’s been ther
deuce ter pay in these ’ere woods. Ef this air
don’t say thar’s a band of rascals hyar, I’m a
skunk. Look out, boys; look out, and mind
yer eye!”

The dug-out, propelled by a few vigorous
strokes, shot 11 to the landing, while Sol aban-
doned his pa dle and took up his gun. The
negro, he saw, was wild with nervous fear. His
li were of a dull, gray, leaden hue, and work-
ecfimnvnlsivel ; his cheeks were sucked in; his
ears went bac and forth like those of a mule—
at any other time a most ludicrous spectacle;
while his eyes rolled and dilated, eagerly peer-
ing at the willows. Creeper Cato was very
alarmed and excited.

The boat touched the bank, and the occupants,
with splendid nerve and coolness, kept their
seats, with presented weapons, while the negro
beat the air with his hands like a helpless
idiot. But still the willows nodded and waved
in the gentle breeze, still the men on shore
covered them, and still there was no noise, no
motion.

Sol rose and stepped ashore, then sinkin on
his knees, beckoned the others to follow. hey
did so, and soon were all ashore, in a roup,
with the frightened negro in their midst, hind
their bodies for protection.

Several minutes passed in silence' then as all
was still, 801 ordered Cato to go heel: for more
men. The negro, somewhat cooler, and think-
ing to esca when he reached the other shore.
gladly ayailed himself of theo portunity, and

ettin into the canoe, paddles lustily away.

e too the channel this time, and was near the
shore, congratulating himself upon his lucky
escape when the voice of Sol came to his ears
like a nell:

“ Bring Cato back with you, boys—don’t let
him run 011‘; l"

\ So the negro was forced to sit in the boat
while its human cargo was being loaded, though
\seized again with terror.

The boat was filled, and Cato was about to

paddle slowly away when a voice. rung out,

. where they knew not, only it was quite near:

“You had better 0 back!”
- Away in the w 3 went the echoes, resound-
I from tree to tree. “ Go back i”
are dropped his paddle with a yell; the others
sprung to their feet, near] upsetting the dug-
, p 9 other two rties
heard the Voice and. were gazing round sur-

 

prise. But Cato’s fear was strong and violent,

and he trembled; for the voice was the same

'ili‘iagnetic, terrible voice he had heard at the
ree.

“Did ye hear that?” asked Jeffries,‘ in a whis-
per. “Say, did ye?”

It was the same he heard the evening by Hans
Winkler’s cabin. It had followed him wherever
he had one, at intervals ringing out its wild
cry. hat was it?

Cato landed the arty, then went back for the
few remaining. T en all assembled on the shore,
on the border of the robber stronghold.

“ Now, boys,” said So , “ jest hyar‘s the place

whar them robbers air, I’ll bet money. P’rhaps ‘

thev‘re watchin’ us right now. We], boys, I
reckon leetle Katie’s hyar, an’ we’d better skqu
along toward the middle of the island.”

They crept stealthin on from willow to willow,

Sol keeping the reluctant black before him. ‘

Suddenly one of the party drew back, with an

exclamation, and pomted toward adistant ob- '

ject. Peeping through the saplings, they saw an
open space cleared and stumpy. Almost in the
center were two large cabins, one of a light color,
the other dark. A man with a pale face was
leaning in the doorway of the first building, ap-
parently in a brown study, with a pipe in his
mouth, evidently unlighted.

They watched the quiet scene before them for
some little time: then Sol whispered:

“ Thar’s the robber den; thar is a band of rob-
bers, sai tin.”

“ Ay, but where are they i” asked Walter.
“Only one man is visible.”

“ Off on a devilish trip, no doubt; it‘s durn

quiet thar—just like the grave, an’ thet chap
stands thar like a statoo. What in thunder
makes all so quiet?” .

“Pop,” whispered Eben, “ p’r’aps thar's a
scheme a-workin’.
tucked away in this here fringe of willows,
awaitin’ fur us tsr rush out; then they’ll jest
mor’n epper us." ' \

“Me be. Take two or three along with yer,
and beat the bushes. Mind (yer eye, now.”

Eben selected three stur y friends, and the
crept and skulked the entire circuit of the islan ,
one party going to the right, the other to the left.
They met on the opposite side, having seen noth-
ing. Then they hurried back to the leader. He
heard their story, cocked his gun, and said:

“Now thar’s got terbe a charge, and we’ll
take ’em by sur rise. When I about and run,
fNollow, like wi d-cats, but hold your loads.

ow. '

He took a quick, true aim at the man, fired,
and sprung out into the clearing, followed b the
rest. Up the narrow path they dashed, re y'to
meet and van uish their foe. To their surprise
the sentinel di not fall nor move, neither did he
raise his head, but still leaned in the door with
his head down. . \

They rushed toward the cabin and were nearly
there when their eyes beheld a sight which caused
them to stop in their tracks, astonished.

They saw the cabins were emm' they knew
no living robber was on the is d; but what
startled them more was that the mystefiousman
was already dead. ' , .

He had _ 0t died Without aistruggle, they could

Mebbe thar’s adozen men V ‘

 

' . the unmistakable tones of the negro.

 

£4

Creeper Cato.

 

see, as there were indications of extreme vio-
lence. Griffith was dead!

They searched the cabins through and through,
but beyond some very scant , poor furniture
they were entirely empty. hey were as far
from Katie us ever, and Walter was frantic.

Suddenly, as they stood there in the bright
morning sunlight, they heard a voice, seemin ly
far away in the forest, utter four words. he
tone was singularly fierce and commanding, and
they all recognized it as the Voice.

“ Go back! 0 back!”

Immediatel it was followed by a piercing
scream from the pond near the ferry. This was
followed by another, wilder and Shi'iilel‘. and in
With one

accord they rushed down to the landing.

There they saw Cato paddling for dear life
toward them from the center of the lake. His
manner was that of one in extreme terror, and
with rolling e es and open month he worked
with might an main. He was flying from some

ursuer, no doubt, as he frequently glanced

Back nervously. It did not take him long to

reach the bank, and as the bow of the craft

touched the land, he sprung out and stood re-
garding the other shore. all on fire.

“ What is it, Cato? What’s the matter?” and
many others were the questions put to him. He
did not at once answer, but, clasping his hands,
stood trembling. At length he spoke:

“ Oh,- marsh-s, sech a ter’ble sight! Oh, oh all

‘ de sights dis nigzah eber see’d, (lat was de wu’st.

Oh, mars’rs, dar’s tr'uble comin’, tr’uble comln’!

Dead-Man’s Forest am alibe with sperrits.”

“Come! out with it!" commanded Sol. “Ef
t‘iar’s anything wrong we ought ter know it. It
wont be of use ter us.”

. “,O‘n, sat, dare was de biggest man—de daddy
ob de world, shore. He had a big bunch on his
back—” -

“\The hunchback!” interrupted Walter.

“Did yer see him, Walt?”

“Yes. But let him go on.”

“And do bunch on his back, an’ do fire a-
eomin’ out’n his head and de smoke a-comin’
from his hands, an’ do big white eyes, on’ de
white clo’se—oh, mars’r, dis niggah’s in de

ground all cobered up.”

“ Did he speak?” asked J etfries. eagerly.

“Oh, sar, dat he did. He stretch an arm out

. with de smoke a-comin’ from it, an’ he sed, ‘Go
back]. go backl’ an’ dis niggah done went.”

.“ The same!” said Jeifries. They turned to

him.

, ' “What! did you see it too?” He related the
events of the night before the abduction, when
he heard the voice in the willows.

Then Walter told of his vain attempt to cap-
ture him. They all had heard him, and two
_, had seen him. Curiosity and wonder grew to a.
v great hight, and the fact that Cato had been
, trying tooscape when the apparition appeared
to him, was forgotten. Sol’brought his gun
down with a ring. , ,

“Now, boys.” he said, “thar’s suthin’ up.
Ever sauce we’ve b’en arter the gal that voice
has b’en after us all. Hyar’s the robber den
With a dead man in it. Katie’s nowhar to be
" found. nyther the fellerwe think tuk her off.
‘Thwyardeu has b’en abandoned. right lately.

 

and I think thar’s robbers and Katie nigh. Now,
what have we got toward findin’ her? Nothin’.
But, we’ve got ter find her, and she hain’t hyar
on this island. So she must be oflf it. Wal,let’s
go buck an‘ find her. Come on.”

“ We’ll tear up Dead Man’s Forest, but we
find her,” shouted the men as they crowded into
the boat.

Ten minutes later the island was bare. Bare?
no. For in a. few moments a man stood in the
door of the cabin. Another one appeared; an—
other yet; and in five minutes Ca tain Down-
ing’s villainous band laughed and ta ked in front
of the cabin. Where had they been concealed?

CHAPTER X.

A GLAD MEETING SUDDENLY INTERRUPTED.

WHEN Katie stepped out of the dug-out on the
mainland, she climbed upon the huge log, and
looked around. All about her was darkness and
grim silence. Close by, a tall sycamore, erect
and lofty, raised its head above the forest and
waved in the damp night air. Underbrush
grew thick and matted everywhere about her;
the ground was beset with mir ,treacherous
bogs, which threatened death to or footsteps;
she knew not where she was, nor the way to
leave the island; she was in a quandary.

She knew not what to do—where to go, but,
inspired with terror at the thought of again en-
during the horrors of captivity, she followed
the log down to its end and ste ped off. Then
wandering vaguely, she star away into the
silent, black forest, terrified at its silence and
grimness, at the danger behind, and at danger
before—for there was danger.

Here, in this forest. lurked the dangerous
catamount, and the venomous snake; here trod
the bear, nocturnally ramblin ; the gray, fe-
rocious and gaunt wolf sto 9 through 'the
shadowy aisles; and last, but not least, the red-
man was not yet exterminated. Treacherous
bogs and deadly pools, too, dotted the spongy
ground—terrible dan ers in themselves.

She had not one ar when on stopping, she
felt her foot sin into a soft bog. Hastily with-
drawing it ere it became too late, she turned
away only to encounter the same danger. Fright-
ened and faint almost toexhaustion with hunger,
and alarmed at the rising cries of beasts which
she heard, she sat vacantly dowu, leaning
against a tree. Overtasked nature refused to
yield to artificial laws, and she feel asleep.

When she awoke it was broad daylight, and
the sun was hi h in the zenith—it was high
noon. Faint wit hunger, she yet felt consider—
ably refreshed, and rising, she looked_about her.
She had not tasted food for thirty-Six hours—/
she must have some: she could not live, scarcely
move without it; and she needed strength to

 

y- '
While she was cogitating and looking about,
she heard a. rustle in an adjoining thicket—the
fall of a foot. She slipped behind the tree
quickly. What could it be? Was it an enemy.
searching for her, or was it a lurking Indian?
Whichever it was, she felt alarmed, and her-
heart throbbed. '

  

A, “as.” 
V‘s”?“.zwwwr’wi-_ , nth”? W?“

‘ ‘ ‘ ‘.~*.'. m" Hurt-'1‘ l
A .w, “it;

 

 

  
   
  
    
  
  
  

Again the sound came—a light footfall. It .> 5  " l

was nearer—some one was coming—she must

escape. Leaving the tree. she softly  ‘

,

   
 

     

  

 

 

 

 

. tomeet

Creeper Cato.

26

 

away, keeping the tree between her and the
sound. She might have escaped had she been
versed in wood—craft, but, being unskilled and
timorous she trod upon a dry twig. It snapped,
loudly. She heard a sudden, low exclamation.
Believing she was discovered, she made no fur-
ther attempt at concealment, but fled.

She heard the footsteps behind quicken, then
settle into :1 steady run. She strained her pace.
A dense coppice lay near. If she could only
reach it! She would try, anyhow, and she flew
toward it. Hitherto a dense thicket had inter-
vened between her and her pursuer, but now
she heard him burst out in full sight. She was
almost to the coppice—she would soon be there.
Acceleratin her speed, she was rapidly nearing
it when she card a voice behind her say:

“ Katie!”

She stopped in an instant and turned—she
knew the voice. Then, seeing who was her ur—
suer, she held out her arms. and with a ond
cry,. rushed to meet him. It was her lover,
coming vtvlith radiant face and outstretched arms

er. '

It were worse than useless to attempt to de-
scribe the meeting. Sufiice it to say they clasp-
ed each other in their arms, and Katie wept for
joy, and he murmured glad, comforting words
to her; she nestled close. and implored his pro-
tection; while he swelled and strutted with vast
Bride, and longed for an enemy to appear, that

e might have an opportunity to fight for her.

When she was somewhat composed, she told
the story, truthfully, and minutely. Then he
became enraged and grew red in the face and
scowled; now he had a double account to settle
with Downing. Then, suddenly recollecting her
long fast, he bade her stay where she was while
he went 0!! with his gun to procure food.

He was not long, and soon came back with a.
brace of red squirrels, the first animals he had
seen. Striking alight, he soon had a fire burn-
ing. while Katie dressed the squirrels in a trice.
Then, bidding her cook them, he started 011‘ for

more-he would have destro ed all the aninials'

in the forest for her sake. e came back soon
with another brace—these being the only eat-
able animals at that time of the year. He found
her busily engaged in disposing of the first
brace, eating Joyfully. They were young and
very tender, and after her long fast she ate
voraciously.

W bile she ate, he watched her, smiling tohini-
self. and exulting over her, and told of his ab-
sence'from the party. He had been off on a
peculiar trail, which he supposed was that of

‘the mysterious hunchb’ack. His attention had

been drawn to her by the snapping of the twig,
and he hotly pursued her, believing it was the
one he sought. They were near the landing,
and the party were on the other side of the
lake, distant about four miles.

She finished eating, and he arose.

“Come, darling,” he said; “let us hasten
back to our friends. There may be danger in
remaining here.”

He took her hand, and walking rapidly (for
she was now quite refreshed and strong), they
hurried toward the other side of the lake. He
did not go toward the settlement, for he rea-
soned that, when Katie's escape was discOVei-ed,

as it undoubtedly was, the robbers would in-
stantly get between the swamp and the settle.
ment in order to intercept hcr. Thinking they
were off the island, he thought they were in the
forest toward the settlement—hence his hurry
inglto join the party. ,

is reasoning, though evidently correct, was
erroneous. When the settlers found the cabins
empty, and the island bare, they thought the
robbers had evacuated it, but in fact they had
been concealed in an underground it or pas-
sage, dug ready for an emergency. 0 Walter’s
escape would have been certain if he had at
once moved toward the settlement; but instead,
he was running point-blank into danger.

They were half-way round the lake when
Walter halted, and climbed a tree in order to
discover. if possible, the whereabouts of the
party. But, on seeing nothing from his elevat-
ed perch, he was about descending, when an ob-
ject on the lake drew his attention.

In a direct route, that is a “ bee-line,” across
the water, he was about a mile from the land-
ing by the log. near where he found Katie.
But by land and through the forest it was about
two miles. Looking across the island toward
the land, on the water. .

At first he could not distinguish the outline of
the object—it was a dark, close mass; but, by
degrees, it assumed shape, and he saw what it
was.

ered with men. Who can it be?” .
“ Which way are they going?” she asked, pal- ‘
ing at the remembrance of her captivity. -v
“ From the island toward the landing.”
“ 0h, Walter, it is they: they are after me.
Oh, come down and let us fly.” '
“ Nay, stay a bit,” he replied. “ It may per-
haps be our friends, though 1 don’t see how they

as this.

it. It must be the robbers.”

Confident in his ability to throw them from
the scent, he watched the raft until it touched
the shore. The men slowly disembarked, and
filed out u n the log, where they stood like a
row of vu tures. leaving one man upon the raft. '

A dark object was at his feet.
arose, and Walter discovered it to be a large
dog. He wondered what use they had for a.
dog, and why did they bring the beast with]
them on this expedition? . ‘

He was soon answered. The nzen, followed,
by the dog, filed along the leg and vanished in
the thicket. _ V, 

A few moments passed, and they did not re-
appear. Walter began to descend, when he and-
denly sto ped and listened keenly. Katie,be-‘
low. sawgim change color and look anxmus. » .

She wondered as she Watched bimJOOkiBS '
and listening alternately, his bold dashin air
being changed to one of anxiet , His  was.
placed to his ear to facilitate is hearing, and,

motionless. ,

“I thought so-curse this delay l” she heard
him mutter. Then he came scrambling down, ‘
hand under hand. Alighting by her side he
' caught her arm, and hosrsely asked:

 

“ Ha, Katie! there is a raft on the lake, pow ‘ I L

could have gotten to the island and back as soon,  _
I I can see the dugout now, empty and , r '
lying by the big log; they are steering toward, 

This soon -'

With head slightly bent, he remained entirely V  

 

.zif» .

 

 

~

26 I ‘ Creeper Cato. .

 

“ Are you quite strong? can you run 3”

“ Oh, yes, Walter. Oh, you frighten me!
Let us go at once—I know something is wrong.”

“Ayl” he said, starting off at a round pace
toward the place where he had left the settlers;
“ something is wrong.”

“ Please tell me, Walter. If I know the dan-
ger I am sure I can fly faster. What alarms
you?”

“Alarms me?” he said. “ Ay! I am not
ashamed to own it. Listen! Two miles away
are our friends. It will take us a good half-
hour to reach them through this cursed, nasty
swamp. Meanwhile behind us a terrible
enem —-the keenest, bloodthirstiest trailer in the
work . In ten minutes he will be on this very
spot —for he is on our trail!”

He laid his hand on her arm. Just then arose
behind a round, rich, melodious sound, swelling
graciefully, then dying away. He raised his
han .

“ Do you not know the sound? did you never
hear it?"

“ What is it?"

“ A bloodhound ! In ten minutes he will gal-
lon across this very spot!”

She turned deadly pale.
her arm.

“Come!” he cried, hoarsely. “ For God’s sake
fly. else we are lost!”

They plunged into the dense forest, impeded

He caught her by

K by fallen logs obstructing their course; by mat-

ted grape-vines, an impenetrable barrier; by
bogs, about which they were forced to circuit;
vbv dense thickets and brambles which threaten-
ed their every step; and still behind swelled out
the bay of the bloodhound—“ Hong—hongi”

CH AP FER XL
‘ A SUDDEN MEETING.
THREE hours after they had left the island the

 

L settlers found themselves on the mainland, With

I Shadow Lake between them and their homes.
Walter had been absent forsame time and they,

began to feel anxious about him. He had started

’ off on a wild and perhaps dangerous errand—

that of ferreting out the strange intruder, the
owner of the mysterious voice.

He had now been gone several hours, and they
were alarmed, for they thought the robbers were

' prowling about the forest, and he mi ht fall in

with them. Sol, having a high regar for him,

' and not wishing to have evil befall him, called

Eben aside:
“ See here, Eb,” he said, “d’ye want a job?”
“ What is it?”

. ,“Ter foller Walt. I’m afeard he’s

some scra e. Yer can go back ter

whar Wa t left us, and nick up his trail.

ot inter
he place
Don’t

. leave it ontil ye find him. Ef yer want ter find

us ag’in. all yer kin do is ter pick up our trail

.1 and overtake us. Yer understand?7

'the place where Walter had left them.
7 turned to the band. and bidding them follow,

as
“All right. Now thar’s no one lookin’—slip

inter that hazel-patch yonder.”

He sauntered slowly away until he reached
the banal-thicket. when he “ loped ” away toward

started off in search of the robber trail. -For

’ 7 once the veteran was wrong.

Sol re-,

 

Eben, walking rapidly, soon came to the spot
where he was to take Walter’s trail. It was by
a large cottonwood tree which towered above its
adjacent companions. Here on every side, ex-
cept that of the lake, stretched away the old
gloomy swamp, ghastly and grim even in the
noontime. As the ground was springy, he had
no difficulty in finding the trail, and picking it
out from the others. It struck off along the
“ coast ” of the lake, and the young man had in
all probability made his way to the log-landing,
where the un nown was last seen.

He slung his gun in the hollow of his arm, and
bending to the trail, went on apace. It was
quite distinct, and he felt sure he could follow it
on a run.

He had not gone more than fifty yards when
he heard a rustle in a. thicket Just ahead.
With the instinct of a backwoodsman he went
behind a tree like a squirrel, and cocked his

gun.

The rustle was not such as would be made by
a bird or small animal, but was a rustle and a.
dull thud. This Eben, being quick-witted,
feedin construed into a footfall on a prostrate

0g.

He remained close hid for some little time,
then peeped cautiously out. An intervening
thicket obscured his view. Gently stepping, he
crept to the thicket and peered through;

Before him was one of those numerous small
glades with which the forest abounded. This
glade was bare, but he was certain he heard
a footstep, and in the present unsettled con—
dition of things he was wary about venturing
out in full sight. However, as he forced his
way through the thicket he saw that on all sides
of the glade the surrounding trees were some-
what diminutive in size, being for the most part
a young growth of cottonwoods. They were too
small to afford protection to any man, and be-
ginning to lose his slight alarm, he stepped
boldly out, still on the trail.

No one was in sight. The surrounding forest
was devoid of human beings. He went up to a
large log lying in the open space. It was de-
cayed. and Walter’s trail passed directly over
it. In fact, he had step upon it, as his boot-
mark was plainly visi la in the soft, yielding
punk. But as he noticed this, another object
caught his attention.

It was another and different footmark, and he
could see it had no heel, and the edges were not
shar 1y defined: he knew at once that it was th
trac of a moccasin. .

“ Hullo! Injunsi” he inquired. of! his guard.
“It can’t be; there are none within sixty miles.
But, by thunder! ef I don’t b’lieve it is the track
of one.”

Interested, he looked searchineg around for
some further evidence, but to his extreme sur-
prise he found none—it was a solitary footprint.
It pointed at right angles to the trail he was
pursuing, and he jud ed that as the surrounding
ground was dry an rather hard, the owner
must have passed by without leaving any other

trail.
“Well, no matter.” he said to himself. “ I’m

on Walter’s trail—I mustn‘t leave it. But, ha ,

garden I’d like to know where this one 1

~.~

 

V.

‘ -.._ T

5+4

rmwgwe

v9.7“—

 T.

 

   

  

 

 

 

v

1

Creeper Cato.

27

 

;‘. He gave a final look around then bending

again, went on, wondering. Now the ground
was rather hard, but as ho was on a “ boot;-
trail,” he found no difficulty in keeping it.

Right ahead the dense thickets and soft
ground came again. The moment he “struck”
the latter, he started back at soving‘ he was now
pursuing a double trail, the second being that of
afniloccasin; some one was trailing Walter ahead
0 iin.

He noticch it was the same mark as the one

‘on the log—at least it corresponded to it in size

and shape. He pushed on a few paces, to see
how far it continued, and if the second person
was really on the track of Walter. He was, he
found, after gomg a small distance. Sometimes
the moccasin overtopped the boot, as if the un—
known was not desirous of keeping the trail for
further use, and for every five steps of Walter,
there were only two moccasin-marks; the fellow
was evidently going at a smart pace.

Whoever he was, Eben was certain he was not
far in advance, for just now he had heard him
stop on the decayed log. He pushed on, deter—
mined, as it lay in his wa , to ferret out this
re. id tracker, and perhaps y doing so he would
ri Walter of an enemy.

He had been looking down at the trail. He
now raised his head and looked around, to pre<
vent being surprised by his forerunner. Had he
looked up a second quicker, he would have seen
a form dart behind a. huge tree, fifty yards or
more in advance, with a smile on his face. But
he did not see it, and Went on rapidly.

He approached the tree, keeping his eye bent
On the trail; he drew nearer, and the man be-
hind the tree smiled again. He came directly
ofiposite the tree, and the man slipped around to
t 9 other side.

Eben passed the tree, then stopped short.

“ Hullol where’s the moccasin trail? I’ve left
it, or it’s left me, one or t’other.”

He went back a step or two and discovered it

again.
, “Hullol here it goes, branching off by this

bi sycamore. Shall Ifollowit’i”
e benitated a moment; then, resolving to

pursue it a little distance, went off, following

it.
Want 03? not far! Before he had taken two
ps the man behind the tree came up behind
him and gently touched him on the shoulder.
“ How goes the. day, yeah man?” he said.
Eben turned With a cry 0 surprise, and con-

7 fronted him.

He saw before him the strangest man he had
ever before seen. A man with a» deformed,
hunched back, with crooked, crazy legs, with
long, swmging arms, and an enormous nose.

V.He was dressed in a corduroy 'ackct, and leg-

‘ngs of the same material, w ich terminated
in a pair of plain moccasins. On his head was
an old flat cap covered with ashes—a ca made
from green wood. Eben could see. An 0 d cloak
of undressed sheepskin was flung over his
shoulders, and this, in unison with his ghastly

'white face, staring, fishy eye, and straggling

drab hair, gave him, to say the
a. nrance.
" ben was, for the moment,

least, a strange
alarmed at his

/. ’1 ,(

 

ugly companion, and did not know what to
do or say. At last he staminered out:

“ Who are yer?"

“ No matter—for the present. I will tell you
after I have done talking with you. I have
come to see you on business.”

“ Business? What d’ye mean?” asked Eben,
beginning to become more and more surprised.

“ Time is scarce. The young man and woman
are in danger. I need your help. Thereiswork
enough for both of us."

“ What man and woman?”

“ The young woman that was lost.”

“Ha! do you know anything of ’emi Speak

nick!”

“ Hal” elled the man at the top of his voice.
“ Do you ear that?”

The faint, melodious bay of a hound came
wafted to their ears. Eben knew the sound.

“ I do,” he said. “ It is a. bloodhound."

“Ayl” and the hunchback brought his face ‘
close to that of Eben. “It is—and he is on the»
trail of the young man, who has found the
young woman 1”

Eben saw by the expression of the cripple‘s
face he was terribly in earnest, and that he
spoke the truth.

“ Then come onl” he said. “ Come on, to the
rescue!” ’

The hunchback, with surprising agility, dart-
ed away through the thicket, followed by Eben. '

 

CHAPTER XII.
THE DEATH PATH.

WALTER and Katie fled as fast as the thick
brush, the constantly-impeding gra vines, and
the soft and boggy ground would a low, but still
the bay came louder and rounder to their ears,
and they could but see the terrible tracker was
swiftly gaining upon them.

They had gone about lnlf the two miles which
would have placed them in comparative safety
when it became only too evident they must be t
and make a. stand against the dog. 9 was DOW'
quite near, being only four hundred yards be-
hind. The rapid pace at which he was comin
greyed it was their only resort—to stand an

s f.

A good opportunity presented itself, and Wal-
ter seeing it, availed himself of it.

Near by, a. knoll rose abruptly, in fact, hori-r
zontally. Before it. and encircling one side of r
it, myriads of tough, matted grape-vines were
hung. forming an impenetrable barrier-at least
sufficient to repel the entrance of a man. ‘

Walter drew his bowls, and after working
energetically, soon had the satisfaction of mak~
ing an entrance sufficient to enable him to pass
through. which he did, followed by Katie, who
bore herself admirably. Then hauling and bend- v
ing the leafy vines, he soon closed the entrance

so it would not be detected.

It was a rare place for a. stand. and hail ‘Wal-
ter a dozen men with him, he might have with-
stood a hundred. Behind him rose the knoll
abruptly; before him was a. leafy, green, im-
penetrable wall of tough, obstinate, fibrous
grape-vine, so thick and leafy that persons be-
fore it could not see through it. ‘ ., I

But Walter had only his arms and weapons to‘

/

 

 

 

 

 

23 Creeper Cato.

i
t



 

depend on, and they might fail. Still he spoke
hopefully and encouragingly to Katie, and hoped
for the best.

On came the dog-—quiteucar. They could hear
the bushes rustle as he darted through them,
and at intervals out swelled the sonorous bay-
“Hong, hong!”

Walter gently put Katie away from him.

.\ “I want room to work in,” e said, drawing
his knife.

His good rifle was at his shoulder at full cock,
aimed through the wall; in his trigger-hand he
clutched the bowie-knife. Should the former
fail (as in ail probability it would, owing to the
thick underwood) he could make a determined
battle with the blade.

On came the dog, full of fiery and bloody de-
sire. Glimpses of him were caught at intervals,
his dark-brown body gleaming through the
c0§ses

ow the patter of his feet came to their ears,
and mixed with them, shouts behind: the rob-
bers were hotly following their fore-running
ally.
' Suddenly he appeared, coming on at a true
bloodhound pace—half—galloping, half—pacing—
a sort of amble. He was on y a few yards

away.

Walter, taking a cool, steady aim at the
hound’s breast, fired.

A confused snarling and growling was heard,
the smoke hanging obstinately down, obstruct-
ing their sight. Gradually it ifted—just in the
nick of time.

For, as Walter was peering through the cov-
ered entranceyknife in hand, the dog came on
with a spring. He had been shot, as could be

» told by theblood on his breast, but not fatally.
It only maddened him to stronger exertions.

Seeing Walter’s face at the entrance, the
brute, with a fierce growl, sprung at him, with
red jaws. white, wicked teeth, and a gleaming,
bloodshot eye. v

He was met half-way. As his fore-paws
touched the barricade, Walter, exerting all his
paws and muscle, drove the keen-edged bowie

nto his breast—exactly in the bullet-hole.

There was a maniacal, gasping snarl, a convul-
sive movement of the feet, a rapid quivering
throughout his bed , and the bloodhound fell to
the ground, stone cad.

Katie was fri htened as Walter drew back his
knife and slow gewiped it on the 'viue—leuves.
She had never fore seen a brave man at bay
—-she had never seen such a fierce, passionate,
and at the same time cool and resolute look upon
his face. His wrath was majestic—he Was a
brave man at bay, battlin for the one he loved.

His attention was quic ly drawn to the ap-
proaching enemy by the sight of a thickset man
at the head of the column, which was coming at
Indian file. He was short and squat, and his
sable face proclaimed his Ethiopian origin.

d he be mistaken? He knew he was not
mistaken. It was Creeper Cato, and beside him
walked Captain Downing.

To see was to act with Walter. It was a life-
and-death struggle now. ‘ ,

Astream of fire blazed from the barricade,
a puff of smoke arose, and Creeper Cato. with a

ild tossedh' alft dflltothe
w cry, isarinso an e

 

gropnd. Creeper Cato had followed his last“ 
trai . ~ '

Completely surprised and astounded at the,
sudden discharge and its fatal effect, the bandits
flew to cover, where they remained quiet, and
talked in Whispers. How many men were he-
hind that scrcen? Downing, Fink, and another
man were close together in a dense thicket.

After canvassing matters, it was decided to
make a rush—Downing feeling certain that only
the young settler was there with the girl. The
signal for a rush was to be the discharge of the
ca ptuiu’s revolver, when every man was to press '
forward on a run. '

Soon a sharp report rung out, and simultane-
ously every sturdy rufliun sprun from hisw
cover, and rushed, gun and knife in hand, to-
ward the vines, yelling and swearing as they
disl so.

Foremost came Ca tain Downing, ahead of
his men; next came arks and Fink, all three
being somewhat in advance.

Walter saw his arch—enemy, and full of rage
and desire for revenge, raised his gun and took
a steady aim at him. But, just as his hand was
hard-pressing the trigger, Downing slipped, and ,
stumbling, fell headlong. v- . g

It was too late to hold his fire; Downing had '
scarcely dropped when the bullet, s eedi-ng '
through the air, lodged in the braino Parks. .
The robber dropped without a groan. and Fink, ,’ i
pressing on close behind, stumbled over him. '

The remaining robbers, seeing three men pros-
trate, imagined there had beenasimultaneous“ . I
volley from the Vines, which had felled their z,
leaders. They stopped and hesitated. ,

But only for a moment. The leaders soon ,
righted themselves, Downing regaining his feet is,
first. With a wild, profane oath he darted on, 

Q

 

‘ .
:1 8‘", x—

a.

"1-»5‘72. r 1. 3.3:;

beside himself with rage. _
The men followed. Walter, knowing a crit- ' .1 ‘j
ical and almost hopeless crisis had come, threw j
down his gun, and brandishing the keen bowie, . v ;,
awaited their attack. ’ 3
It came. The robbers, anticipating an easy
victory, rushed against the barrier, supposi ‘
it would give to their combined weight 3.35 ,4
momentum. But the vines were tough and , 1
strong, and though the robbers dashed in a . '
body upon them they resisted the shock. The L 
swayed, bent, and creaked, but, with their na '
ural elasticity, immediately returned to their ,,
natural position. _  
“Cut through the accursed vines!” howled 4 '

Downing. white with rage. “ Cut through,‘L C ' "
them! No quarter to the villain inside i"

 

 

Drawing his knife, he set the example by cut-.4. r‘ ,
ting wildly and violently. Fortunate it was for ‘“  ..
Walter the vines were tough and thick—fortu- , 
note it was for him that he had an open space
behind him to fi ht in. ' .

“Get behind is at log, yonder, Kate!” ordered ‘
Walter. “ Else you may get hit by a bullet.” ~ .

She obeyed. ow danger had come, now. 3 ’
that an imminent crisis ha arrived, she, though 
pale, was calm and collected. Disregardiug his e
command to lie still, she seized his abandoned'
gun, and dying behind the log, attempted to re- , ,
load it. But she had no ammunition—it was a," ’
hanging to Walter’s shoulder. I ‘. -
Slipping up behind him, she quickly took OE - 7

  
 

a ..
4 E‘I'?‘»,M » ‘

r 4, H Creeper Cato, ‘ 29

 

{ 'his plowder-horn and bullet-pouch, then retreated
‘V tot elog and loaded the gun, finding caps in
the pouch. Then she watched her lover with
the eyes of a lynx.
He stood behind the only tree in his “fort,”
' ‘5' A watching, with snapping eyes, the robbers as
they energetically worked at the vines. Cut-
ting and twisting, they worked hard and swiftly,
and soon Walter could see their hands protrud-
ing through the leaves.
3. Downing stopped in his frenzied work, and
 _,,walked up to Fink, and with a fierce oath he

on :
 “ We must get him. One hundred dollars to
the man that kills him—five hundred to the man
that takes him alive.”

The men needed no other stimulus. With one
accord they returned to their task; and then
they worked like tigers—cutting and twisting.
However, they were chary of their hands—the
example before them was too potent to be dis-
regarded; and though working hard, they ob
served great caution.

They had not much longer to work before
they could reach him. To prevent his escaping,
men were sent to the rear of the knoll, with
orders not to harm him, but to take him alive
if possible. Walter’s chances were few indeed.

And now a cry came from one of the most in-
dustrious—he had opened quite a brearh.

The outlaws were quite near the close of their
respective tasks, and, fearing to lose the reward,
worked like men for their lives.

The man who had opened his breach, becom—
ing reckless, at once plunged through, knife in
hand. It was Jack Dark, the ferryman.

His recklessness and eagerness proved his
death. Met half-way in the narrow gap by
Walter, he had no time to turn, no time to strike
or defend himself.
\_ Tho glistening steel flashed in the air; the

sturdy arm descended, and Dark fell limp and
, :' lifeless'in his own gap, completely obstructing it.
1 ‘ . Walter was about to wield another blow, when
l

 

 

faint shriek came to his ears—the voice of
‘ atie.
iii Like lightning he turned toward her. She was
, crouching behind the log, partially upright,
, ointmg With White face to another part of the
" .‘ arrier.
y  Walter followed her gaze, and saw arobber
’ j half through the vines.
. He darted toward him.
~ 7‘ - ‘ The other saw him coming, and endeavored to
spring through, but his foot was fast in the vine.
Then he endeavored to draw back; but too late.
* . / Once more the steel flashed in mid—air, and the
terror-stricken bandit, looking up, saw it de-
scended like a flash. The next moment, he was
a co se.
“ our men down i” shriekcd Downing, now
completely frenzied. “ Kill him—kill him!”
I ‘ Simultaneously, the men drew back a few
goes, and then each one rushed for the breach
had made. v
i , Walter saw one man burst through with a
. “3, yell: the next moment he was upon him in close
' 'conflict.

 

,, - ‘ Katie saw two more burst throu h, and, alive
1  wig; fear raised the gun and fired at the fore-

 

 

The aim was true; he fell. mortally wounded.

The other, disregarding her. rushed by her,
toward Walter, who was fighting desperately
with his adversary, a small. Wiry fellow, .with
the. activity of a cat and the muscle of a bear.

She saw the last man hurry on with gufi ready
for instant use; she saw others burst through the
vines, with bloodshot eyes and inflamed passions:
she saw, as she thought, Walter fall, wounded
unto death, and knew no more.

As the whole gang effected an entrance and
came rushing on Walter, he succeeded in dealing
his antagonist a fatal blow in the side. He fell,
with the blood surging from the wound.

At this critical moment, a loud cry came from
the knoll above—a loud hurrah—then a succes-
sion of rapid shots and cries of pain; then an-
other hurrah!

“Hold up. Walt! Keep cool!” came in ring«
iug tones close by. Then came ancther voice,
louder and shriller:

“Charge, boys—chargel Give ’em fits!”

There was a rapid rush of feet from the hill
above. The outlaws halted and looked up. '

Down the steep hill came a dozen men with
the Velocity of the wind, to the rescue—the. set-
tlers, headed by Eben and the hunchback, had
arrived!

Rolling, jumping, tumbling, on all fours. in
their mad haste (for the bill was perpendicular),
some with their hair flying and hats off, others
with gigantic, reckless strides, down came the
settlers to the rescue.

The outlaws looked up, halted in their murder-
ous design, turned. then fled through the barrier<
—now a barrier no longer; and the brave young
man was saved!

Of the outlaws, Captain Downing alone re
mained. Drawing a revolver from his belt, and
with an oath, he presented it to the young man’s
breast. ,

“Dog of a coward—die!” he yelled, and pulled
the trigger. ~

Reckless actl In his excitement and frenzy, he \

pulled the trigger on an empty barrel. Before
he could draw the hammer to insure his murder-
ous deed, the hunchback tripped his feet from
under him, and dealing him a blow with his fist
at the same time, felled him to the ground.
Then, as the settlers went hurrying ly in hot

pursuit of the outlaws, and as Walter rushed to '

Katie, the deformed man grasped Downing by
the throat. ‘

“ Dog—villain!” he hissed. " Do you know'
me?”

Downing’s face, though ale; grew paler still.
The Voice was speakin to im—the same Yowe
he had recognized on t 8 night that Katie es-
caped from his toils. ' He now recognized the
man.

“ James Dunning!” he gasped. ‘ . V l,

“ Yes, Robert Davis—James Dunning, the
man whom you abused, maltreated and crippled,
is now your captor; the son of the rich banker
in Charleston whom you murdered, Is now your
master; the man who has followed you, abetted
your pursuers. foiled your attempts. and, haunt-
ing the forest, has caused his vows to be heard

at noonday and midnight. has you now in his I, '

power; and he will use that power.” '
*“Let me rise—let me go i” demanded Down-

4.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.your misdeeds!

 

‘ex

 

80 ' V Creeper Cato.

 

lug, vainly endeavoring to rise. “ Unhand me,
you villain l"

“Villain? Hal on will bitterly regret that
epithet. Robert ' avis, mark my words, you
w1 .

“ Let me up. What right have you to detain
me in this manner?”

“ Right? Look at that youn irl yonder—
she is insensible from fright, an al because of
Look at her father and lover
beside her—many have been the torments they
have undergone because of you! Look at the
lifeless men lying here. They have ended their
career upon earth in the midst of vile wicked-
ness, because of youl Look at me, an orphaned
and poverty-stricken son, and a cripple—yes, a
cripple, deformed and ugly, because of you, and
then ask me what right I have to detain you!
You are mine—mine to do with as I will, and,
as I told you before, I will use my power.”

He looked around on the scene, still keeping a
secure hold on Downing. The settlers and out-
laws were all gone, but they still kept up a scat-
tering fire far away in the forest. Fink had
bled to death; Cato lay lifeless on the ground;
flve dead robbers were stretched, grim and
ghastly, upon the neighboring scene; and Katie,
now just recovered, was weeping for joy in her
father's and lover’s arms.

His brow darkened, and he took a card from
his clothing and proceeded to bind Downing.
The latter, struggling and fuming, proving a
hard customer, be dealt him a blow between the
e as which rendered him incapable of any fur-
t or resistance.

Theu be bound him securely, and casting a
last look around him. he took the unconscious
robber chief in his arms as easily as if he had
been a child. Then he walked away into the
swamp just as the sun was setting—into Shadow
Swamp, in Dead-Man’s Forest.

 

CHAPTER XIII.
CONCLUSION.

LITTLE more remains to be told. When the
t settlers, with the haplpy lovers under
their escort, arrived at the sett ement, they were
Eyfully greeted by their wives and daughters,

ettie among the rest
The outlaws were nearly all killed, and were

‘entirely exterminated from their haunts. To

Hettie’s‘ dismay, nothing was evor heard of
Downing, he having not been seen since the
hunchback had carried him as prisoner to the
Shadow Swamp.

Much more the sur rise at the hunchback’s
odd appearance and isappearance, and for a
lone time it was the subject of fireside gossip
an con‘ecture, until a wedding occurred which
forever nished it. It is needless to say who
the parties were, not how very gay the company
was nor how blushing and hafpr the bride, and

ultant the groom—the iute igent reader has,
ere this, suspected it. But, it is, perhaps, neces—
sargl to state that, in time, Hettie lost her un-
for nateattaohment for the robber chief, and,
suddenly discovering that Eben was a fine young
Jinnah. yielded to 1118 suit, and became Mrs.

aco ‘

 

And so, after so much hard trial and pain,
these hearts were at last happy. We can do
nothing more for them, as their cup of joy is
complete, so we bid them all good—by.

THE END.

 

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\ev

 

 

 

 

 

 

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32 Octsvo' Pages.

LE’S B

BE  I880

1 Deerhunter, the my scout of tho Crest North Woods.
By 011 Coomcs.

’ 9 Bumslo Bill, from Boyhood to Manhood. By Col. Pren-

tiss Ingrnhsm.
8 Kit Carson, King of Guides. By Albert W. Aiken.

4 Gordon Lillie, the Boy-Interpreter of the Pawnees. By
Maior. H. B. Stoddard. .

5 Bruin Adams, Old Grissly’s Boy Pard. By Colonel
Prentiss Ingrnhnm.

8 Deadwood Dick as aBoy. By Edward L. Wheeler.

7 Wild Bill, the Pistol Prince. By Colonel Prentiss
lugrnham.

8 The Prairie Ranch. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.
9 Raving” Joe: The History ofs “ Border Boy.” By A.
. on .

10 Texas Jack. the Mustang King. By Colonel Prentiss
Ingraham.

11 Charley Skylark. A Stor of School-flay Scrspes sad
Cullega Capers. By Major i. B. Stoddsrd.

12 Mariposa Marsh. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

18 Roving lien. By Jnhn J. Marshall.

14 Spring Steel, King of the Bush. By J. E. Bsdger, Jr.

15 inytiiltle-‘thnke George, the Boy Pioneer. By Edward
B

16 The Boy Wizard. By Barry Ringgold.
1'? Peter Pegpergrass, the Greenhorn {rum Gotham. By
Nonh Nu .

18 Adrift on the Prairie, and Amateur Hunters
on the Buil’nlo Runze. By Oil Coomes.

19 The Fortune linnter; or, Kevin Joe ss Miner,
Cowboy, Trapper and Hunter. By A. . Post.

90 Trapper Tom, the Wood Imp. By T. C. Hsrbnngh.

31 Yellow llair, the Boy Chlei‘of tns Pswnees. By Col.
Prentiss lagrnhnm.

$2 The Snow Trail. By '1'. C. Hsrbsngh.

28 0g! Gfiluly Adams, th- Besr Tamer. By Dr. ll‘rsnk
0W6 s

34 Woods and Waters. By Capt. Frederick W'hilmer.

B5 Arliollin Stone: Incidents in the Career on Sessnd
Lnnd oi oi. Prentiss lnzrnhnm. By Wm. R. yster.

26 Red River Rovers. By C. Dunning Clark.

91’ Plaza and Plain or. Wild Adventures oi‘“Buchkln
Sam,” (Mnj. Sam. . Hall.) By Col. 1’. Ingrshnln.

88 The Sword Prince. The Romantic Life of Col. Mon-
stery. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.

99 Snow-Shoe Torn. By T. C. Harbnngh.

floPnuldelae thFr hB tCh . .
Dumb: Clgrkly, 0 sun ens smsr By C

81 Round the Camp Fire. By Joseph E. Bsdger, Jr.

89 White Beaver, the Indisn Medicine Chief. By Col.
Prentiss lngrnham.

83 The Boy Crusader. By Cspt. Fred. Whittaker.

B4 The Chose of the GrentWhito Stag, and, Camp
and Canoe. By C. Dunning Clark.

85 Old Tar Knuckle and His Boy Chums. By R. Stsrhuck.

86 The Dashing Dragoon: or. The Story of Gen. George
A. Custer. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

8’? Night-Hawk Georg-e. By Col. Prentiss Ingrshsm.

' 88 The Boy Exiles of Siberia. By '1‘. C. Harbsugh.

89 The Young Bear Hunters. By Morris Redwing.

40 Smart Sill, the Lsd with s Level Hesd. By Bdrm-d
Willstt.

41 The Settler’s Sou. By Edward 3. Ellis.

43 Walt Ferguson'n Cruise. By C. Dunning Cisrk.

48 Rifle Ind Revolver. By Cspt. l‘rsd. Whittaker.

 

 

44 The Lost Boy Whalers. By 1'. C. Horton“.
45 Bronco Billy, the Saddle Prince. By Col. Ingrahsra.
46 Dick, the Stowaway. By Chsrles Morris.

4’? The Colorndo Boys; or,Li!e on snlndigo Plsntstlon.
By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

48 The Pampas llunterat or, New York Boys in
Buermn Ayres. By T. C. Hubnugh.

49 The Adventurous Life of Nebraska Charlie.
By Col. Prentiss Ingrnhnm.

50 Jack Harry and Tom, the Three Champion Brothsrs.
/ iiy Chm. Fred. Wirittnker.

51 The Young Lund-Lubber. By C. Dunning Clsrk.

52 The Boy Detectives. By T. C. Hsrhsngh. ‘

58 "o‘ncst llurr ; or, The Country Boy Adrift. in ih
C ty.

By Char es Morris. .
54 California Joe, the Mystsrlous Plsinsrnsn. By Col.
Prentiss lngrnhalu.

55 Tip Tressel. the Floster. By Edwsrd Wills“.

56 The Snow Hunters; or, Wintsr in the Woods. By
Bury do Forrest.

57 llnrry flowers, the Ssilor Boy Msgicisn. By S. W.
Pearce.

58 The Adventurous Life of Cafitaiu Jack. the
Border Boy. By Col. Prentiss Ingrn sm. '

59 Lalme Tim, the Mole Boy of the Mines. By Chsrlss

urris.

60 The Young- Trnil Hunters; or, New York Boys in
Griszly Land. By T. C. Hnrbnugh.

61 The Tilfier Hunter or, The Colorsdo Boysln Ils-
phent Dd. By Jane}: E. Badger, Jr.

69 Doctor Carver, the “ Evil Spirit " of the Plains. By
Col. Prentiss Ingdlinm.

68 Black Horse Bill, tlis Bandit Wrecker. By Roger
Sterbuck.

64 Young Dick Talbot; or A Boys Rough and Tumble
Fight from New rm to California. By A. W. Aiken.

65 The Boy Pilot; or, The Islsnd Wrschsr. By Col.
Prentiss Ingrahsm.

66 The Desert Rover or Slow-vs Disk Am ti:
Arabs. By Charles orri’s. y on. .

6’? Texas Charlie, the Boy Bangor. By Col. Prentiss
lngrnhnm.

68 Little Rifle; or, The You: For Hunters. By Csptsin
” Bruin ” Adnrns.

69 The Young Nihilist or A sthss Boy Among the
Russians. By Charles i orrls.

10 Pony the Cowboy or, The You] Mmhsll's Reid. 7
By ’injor H. B. Stu 3rd, Ex-Ssaut.

71 Rufl’ Robson and His Bear. By Csptsin " Brsin "
Adsms.

79 The Ice Elephnnt. By Cspt. Frsdsriek Whittshsr.

78 The Young Moose-Hunters. By Willism H.
Manning.

74 The Boy Coral-Fishers. By Roger Sturbnsk.

'35 Revolver Billy, the Boy finger of Tens. By'CoL
Prentiss lngrnhnm. '

1'6 The Condor Killers. By 's‘. C. Hart-ugh.

77 Lud Lionheels, the Young Tiger Fighter. By no,"
Smrhnck.

78 Flatboat Fred. By Edwsrd Willsti

79 Boone, tho Hunter. By Csptsin I". WhittsXsr.

Béndle’s Boy’s Library is {or ssio by sii Nswnnssisrl,
live cents per copy, or not by msil on receipt of six unis such.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,
98 William Street, New You

 

 

 

 

QL

 

 

 

 

 

 

82 Octavo Pages.
5
E

‘5 .
’49
6‘01?

0 EVERY SATU

80 Kentucky Ben, the Long Ride of the Cascades. lly
Roger Sturlmck.
1 The Kit Carson Clnh. lly T. (l. Hurhunzh.
2 thtle Buck the Boy Gaida. By Barry Magma.
8 Pony Bob, tie ltevklcsn ltidz-r. liy (Sui. P. ingruham.
i4 (luptnln Fiy-hy-Ni ht. By JON)“ 5- “MEN. Jr-
85 Cnntnin Rnlph. the dung Explnrer. By C. 1). Clark.
86 Little llnn “00km. lly Morris Redwlng.
8'? The Menu erie lluntern. 15y Ma'. il. Grenville.
88 The Boy ’1 rnnlps; or, Life Among the Gipsles. liy
J. M. Holl‘muu.
ll 9 ’Lonzslmre llije. llv C. D. Clark.
0 Roving Rlllt-J lulvr' ' ‘ . . . .
l Dregnn Junh, llm ml Ritla. By Roger Starbuck.
2 llurrivnne Kit. lly . F. Holt.
3 Jumping Jake, the Colurndo Circus Buy. By Bryant
ilatnuridgu.
94 Sum Spence. the Brnmlhnrn Buy. By Ed. Wlllatt.
95‘Moueow to Sibel-in; or,A Yankee Boy to the Rescue.
By (llmrivs Morris.
Hi Fighting: Fred. By 'I‘. C. linrbanch.
7 Cruise of the Fiynwny. By C. Dunning Clark.
ii The Boy \ izllnnten. is ' .‘ilu. ii. B. Stnddaul.
9 The \Vhlte Tigers. lly ant. lharles Huwurd.
100 The Snow-Shoe ’i‘rnli. B)” St. Geome Rlllhbone-
10] Mariana, the Uttown Girl. By Edward S. Ellis.
102 The Fiynwny Ailnnt. By C. Dunning Clark.
108 Put Mulloney’u Adventurenz or, Silver Tongue
the Damth Quaen. ity (I. L. Edwards.
04 The Boy i'ronneotor. By Roger Starbuck.
05 Mil-once, the ‘uni Witch. By Edwin Eur-arson.
06 The Boy Cruisers. By Edwunl “'iilrtt.
0‘? The Border Rovers. By J Milton Humnan.
03 Alunkn. the Wolf-Queen- Bv Cnpt. Howard Lincoln.
109 (ghyrlilutlnn Jim, the White Man’s Friend. By Edward
. . 4 ii.
10 I’lnuky Joe. the Boy Avenger. Bv J. M. Hoffman.
ll The Border i-innmnker. By James L. Bowen.
12 Left-“untied Pete. By Jomph E. liuduer. Jr.
18 The River Rifles. lly Capt. J. RC. Adams.
14 Alone on the Plains. B Edward Willstt.
115 Silver Horn; and His Ri e Firedeuth. By Roger
Sturhnch.
116 Exploits ofilezekiuh Smith, the Backwoodnnsn.
B .merson Rodnlon. _
17 T V e Young Mnstnngern. By (7. l'hnmlnLr Clark.
18 Old Trams; r, the Boy lfivnls. By Barry Rinugold.
19 Center Shot. the White Crow. By 1‘. C. llarlmugh.
20 A Hot Trail; or, Clark Cluverly Among the Tartan.
B Charles Morris.
1131 I unter l’nrd Ben. By Roger Stat-buck.
123 The Esqniumux’ Queen. By G. Walda Browns.
123 Tim. the Bar Airnbat. By (‘hnrlcs Morris.
124 (inlet-n lit-sale. lite linrderGiri. By Henry J.’i’homnu
125 Tom Tabor, tln- Boy Fugitive. B Barry Rlumzold.
126 Blink Cont. Hm Duluth-Shut. By nl. E. Badger, Jr.
12? The Deer Hunters. By John .1. Marshall.
1’33 \ant‘. lap; or, The Nightriiuwks of the Fire-Lands.
A iiy Cant. (.lms. lit-ward.
129 fillylerspnr; or, ’lhs Mountain ilnoina. ByEdward
'l utt.

130 Keen-en, Qu. en o the i’lnlnn. By Percy B. St. John.
13] “Finish. lhe- ('hiid Spy. iiy George Gleason.

182 The iuinnd Trnpper. lly Charles Howard.

133 The Forest Specter. By Edward Wlllett.

134 “'illi )1". "it? l'ronpvr. By “'11:. ll. Eystor.

135 The Silver Iinzlo. By idrut. Col. Hazeltnn.

1311 The l’rulrie Trnnner. lly C. Dunning Clark.
187 The Anti-lope iloy. By Geo. L. Alkun.

188 Lam: Shot: ur. The Dwarquide. By (lapl’. (‘x-mslnck.
39 Colonel i‘rm-kett, lhr Bear King. B C. E. Lunatic.
I Old i'ezs, the Air-untainasr. By Law A W. Carson.
The (Hunt Hunter. ily Hurry Hazard.

Black Panther. tho Hall‘.Blood. By J. E. Badger.
Curr-on tin-Guido. “yidaut J. H. Randolph. '

' Kent. tiw Ranger. By Edward 5. El lu.

liill liuhhinn, iiunlvr. liy Edward Willltt.

-ii The linlf-ilreed Iilrul. B" Jon. E. Badger, Jr.
14% The. Mnuked A renxor. By (inl. Prentiss Innraham.

Nut, thafi‘rnpper and Indian Fighter. By Paul J.
Prescott.

149 The Elk Demon; ur,’fhn.Gisnt Brothm. By T.
C. Hurbnngh.

 

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bhflnhfi
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Price, Five Cor. rs

«25’ ’

150 The Boy Mustang-Hunter: or. Eaulallu, the
Bountiful Amazon. i'y Frvderit'l. \\ Ili .taker.
151 it‘rnnk Yutes, tln- Yunan Tl'upwr; tr, Mountain
Kane’s Warning. By Jnnrph E. Irma“, Ir
 l‘l'lld (Raven, til-r Sglnut. My (1” v
.ynx- ln, or ‘our ‘rm )ers'Anmn tln
15l;.irrluihfis.l” ' H K By
- ‘ re 1 “III ion Tcxnn Rider or, Rn
“ml the iivrcufls Huntvr. By llnrry  Georg: Bunnie,
155 Dunk Diek’fl lluom. Br Jon. E. Badger, Jr.
156 Frnn Bell, the Bo v spy. y Oll Gnomes.

15’? Nick Doyle. the old Hunlvr. Byi’. H. Myers.
158 kldnnpped lllck; or, The Fate of the Fire Flv. By
J. Stnnlc ' Henderson. ‘

159 Sun-fa .onz Truii; or, The Twin Scouts. By W. J.

160 fi"""i.w"i‘ l I t’ v 8 H
nn ' r p e a ow. y a Hazard.
16! The Mad Skip er. By R. blurlmfik.
lti2 The Trnppt-r 'ing. By Maj. Max Murtlne.
168 [ill-Inn Kenton Hunter. By Emerson Rmhmn.
16-} The Boy Chief: or, Frunk Bell‘s Compact. By 0“
Atom”.
165 The Trnder Traitor. lly J. Stanley Henderson.
1m; 0m June“ (flew. By Mrs. Orrin 'uums
167 The Young Trnller. llv \l'. J. ilandltnn.
14m The s eater Spy. By Maj. Lowis w. Carson.
169 Lnnk .ute, the Old Colorado linntvr. By E. W.

Archer.
170 The “‘hite Wolf. By Edward Willett.
};1 The Swnnm Guide. By W. N. NrNuil.

2 mtmkee l’eddler. By C. Dunning Clark.
178 N “mt-out and Ill! Young Chum. By Warren
174 Blneksnlith Tom’a Mask. By Gm. D. Gilbert.
175 The Ruckskin Rider. By Guy Greenwood.

176 The Squntter’s Surprise. By Mn. H. J. Thomas.

177 Four Fellow Scouts. By J. Smiley Henderson.

178 old Kit and "in Comrades. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr,

179 Uncle Grill’s lliogniue. By iinrry Hazard.

180 The Mun-lied Miner. liy Lielli. Col. ilnzvltlua.

181 The “'ild llnntress. liy Capt. Bruln Adams.

182 The Dwarf lleeoy. By Mare 0. Knife.

188 Job Dean’o Tacties. By Ingoldlby North.

184 Ynnkee Eph’s Dilemma. By J. R. Worcaswr.

185 The Wily Witch’n “'nrd. By Edwin E. Ewing.

186 Frank, the Farrier. By J. Stanley Henderson.

18? Diana, the Fair Mountaineer. By Capt. F. Whittaker.

188 Jack’s Snare. By Mrs. Ann E. Pal-tor,

189 Sam, the Swamp Smut. By W. J. Hamilton.

190'The Dashing Trooper. By Frederick H. Dewey.

191 The Boy Brave. By Julnus L. Bowen.

192 Sandy Bill, ofTexas. By Edward Willwtt. ‘

198 Igntt'ry Winkle’n Long Clause. By Wm. R.
ya er.

194 Cree er Onto, the Shadow Swsnp Trailer. By
finder ck Dawuy.

195 The Runner Detective.
Ready Juuuqry 7.
106

G I Mug the Mountain Witch. B C. Dnnniu
(High), Rendy’dnnunry 1-1. y K

191’ The Brnndell Captain.
Ready January 9i.

198 Old Crolsiire’n Crisia. By Capt. Chnrlus Howard.
Ready January 78.

199 web"; Zack, tbs Texm. By W. J. Hamilton.
Randy February 6.

Bendie‘s Boy’s Library in for sale by all Nswsdeslen,
five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt ofslx cunts sluh.

BEADLE AND ADAMS. Publishers,
98 William Street, New York.

Sioux.

By Harry Hazard.

By W. J. Hamilton.

 

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