Cents. AND A ‘PALO: BILL, Five , 298 William Stor BUk ET & SMITH ree *: SS eee So if) EB RINGING VOICE OF \ vill 4 yest TH UP ME IN aul! New York Post Office by STRE EM'’? CA Nb I PLAY TH CRY OF HORROR BURST FROM THE LIPS OF EACH MAN. ne ILTRY i i 1 i i NS , as - 8 +S a8 x oH ao 8 Ss S Ez BS 3 2 g Y y 8 Re ~» Enter INN yi “ul OF DEV i i K i M nh itl bil THIS GA year. f tai nif 50 per HE ii} i i Diton $2. ih ll By Subscr iti’ S ARE TRUMPS IN PISTOLS Issued Weekly ‘*HOLD! 58000204 | tn A WEEKLY PUBLICATION DEVOTED TO BORDER HISTORY Issued Weekly. By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, a7& William St., NV. Y. Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1903, tn the Office of the Librartax of Congress, Washington, D. ©. ~ No. 132. NEW YORK, November 21, 1903. Price Five Cents. By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.” CHAPTER & A GIRE.S BOLD ACT. Unmindtful of the beauty of the scene spread before them—a valley dotted with the cabin homes of settlers, a crystal river flowing swiftly along, green hills, and mountains in the distance, all shadowed, or tinged by the last rays of the setting sun—a band of stern-faced border- men were preparing to commit a deed of wrong. Some two-score in number, they stood beneath the shel- ter of a large tree, while adjacent were their horses lariated out, or hitched to saplings, patiently awaiting the will of. their masters. In the midst of the group of the stern men stood one not of their race. ? ‘His face was red—his blood that of the Indian. Around his neck was a lariat, and the other end was thrown over the limb of a tree. Calm, defiant, fearless he stood in the midst of his foes, his bold, handsome face with no war paint upon it, and his arms bound securely behind his back, so that re- sistance was of no avail. at He wore the costtume and head-dress of a chief, and was the ruler of his tribe, though in years he had counted but twenty-two. His village was far to the north, and he was alone. He had come without his warriors, his lance and arrow points sheathed in white feathers, on a mission of Pe to the settlement. . His warriors had captured a famous scout, and in the jail of the settlement was one of his sub-chiefs; and he offered the life of the one for the other. But no; the settlers had seized upon him, and the young hot-heads were determined that he should hang. They had disregarded the warnings and entreaties of older heads, and had dragged the chief there to die. ‘Draw him up, boys,” suddenly called out the leader of the party. Instantly the feet of the Indian were drawn from the ground, the cruel rope choking off his defiant death cry. But at that instant the clatter of hoofs was heard, and straight to the swinging form dashed a mustang. Upon his back was a rider. That rider was a young _ English, BUFFALO es 2 oi In face and form she was exquisitely lovely, though riding-habit was of homespun, and she wore no dec- that add so much to the beauty of the society girl. DE wing from the belt that encircled her slender waist a small knife, for she was armed, she severed the rope that upheld the Indian, and the tall form dropped to the ground. (Tan ‘3 Men, I am ashamed of you, to do so great a wrong. 667 That. man came to you with words of peace, and - cause he happens to be the ee chief Black Bear, who has eluded you on the warpath, beaten you in your bat- tles with him, and: caused you to fear him, you seek to hang him like a dog. I say such a disgrace shall not rest n the heads ee of this settlement: All knew her, Lou Loring, of the and nearly every man present was anxious to win her love. the Belle Border, They dropped their heads in shame at her words, while Black Bear arose slowly to his feet and confronted them with the ‘Then same defiant look. he turned his gaze upon her, for he understood had said. the bonds that to his weapons, which lay and had heard all that she Leaning from her saddle she quickly cut bound his arms, and pointing that was hitched at the foot of the tree, and his mustang near, she said: “Let the Black Bear take his weapons and pony and re- turn to his village . ay brother chief shall follow him, and if he has a ” heart, the Black Bear will release the oe scout hi warriors hold.” “The Valley Lily shall know that the Black Bear ae a heart, for the al face warrior shall return to ths people,’ was the dignified response. Then, taking up his arms, and mounting his horse, the ne 18 : chief rode slowly away. Watching: him until he w ss s out of sight, with a cold bow to those she had cheated of their human game, Lou Loring rode back into the settlement. ‘There, as her father was the jailer, as well as the store- keeper and general ae itary of Valley Farms, she re- leased the captive ind told him to mount her warrior, horse and follow his chief. “Great heavens, child! what have you done father, that had occurred. iL have who arrived in breathless haste, ha saved this se ttlement from a general ssacre father; that is all,” was her calm response. Prt Stor Deke aw IES. CHAPTER. Fy, AN INDIAN LOVER. The home of “Capt.” Loring, as he was called. by courtesy, was the last house down the valley, and by far the most imposing of all the cabins in the settlement. | It was a comfortable, four-room log cabin, situated upon oped to the river, and commanded a view of ct a hill that sl the entire ae The captain had only himself and his daughter to care for in the world, and was well to do, for he had an ex- tensive farm, a store, in fact the store of the settlement, and possessed herds of cattle and ponies. He was postmaster, and the “head” of the settlement, and was as popular as was his beautiful daughter. Lou Loring was but seventeen years of oe at the time this story opens, yet had received scores of offers To all she returned a negative answer. yet her father had a lurking suspicion that one young settler had won her heart. That one was a colleve graduate, and the son of a wealthy New York family. Why he had come to the border was a mystery which he had not explained. €, 4 had He had staked a claim, built a comfortable home, bought cattle, and ne were prospects of his becoming well-off He was a dandy in his dress, and his elegant form and exceedingly handsome face took with the maidens of the ettlement. The men said that he was an expert gambler. Onee, when drinking, he had hinted that he had been compelled to leave his Eastern home to escape trial for a killing scrape, and that his father had helped him out of the difficulty. This story had spread, of course. As a consequence, Capt. Alfred Loring had not cared for his daughter to encourage his attentions to her. One day she refused his offer of marriage, although there was no doubt that he had won the only love of her heart. Thus matters stood at the time of the rescue of Black . Bear by Lou Loring; and the leader of the young men whom she had frustrated was her discarded lover. bot any one else done what Lou Loring had, she wottid have made bitter enemies; but the beauty, wit and ‘comely character of the Border Belle, as she was called, enabled her to .do what she pleased; and ere long: the settlers came to thank her for it, and felt that she had indeed averted a massacre, or at least an uprising of the Indians. True to his promise, Black Bear released the captive white scout, who returned in safety to Valley Farms, and upheld the act of the fearless girl. He knew well the temper of the redskins, and that for their loved chief they would have fought t® the death. THE BUFFALO Thus several months passed away. One night, having closed his store and returned to his home, Capt. Loring and Lou were seated in the cozy, sitting-room of the cabin, chatting pleasantly together. | The man and woman servant had gone down to a class meeting in what was called the village, although the cap- tain’s store, a schoolhouse, church and blacksmith shop comprised it. Presently there came a knock at the door. Upon open- ing it, with no dread that the caller was other than some settler, Capt. Loring started, as a tall Indian stepped within. He was in full warpaint and feathers. He was not at first glance recognized by either the settler or his daugh- ter, as he stood between them with dignified mien, his arms folded upon his broad breast. His pose and appearance were grand, though full of savage grandeur, and he certainly was a splendid specimen of manhood. Then they recognized him. “The Black Bear is welcome,” said Lou Loring, gain- ing her presence of mind before her startled father could do so. “Will he sit down and take food in my father’s cabin?’ she continued. “Ves, you are welcome, Black Bear; and we will get you some supper, for you proved yourself.a white Indian, in releasing Buck Bruno, the scout,” said the captain. “Black Bear is not in need of food;-but his heart is hungry for the love of the Valley Lily, and he has come to ask her to be his wife, and bring sunshine to his tepee.” The Indian spoke with calm dignity. His dark, earnest eyes were full upon the maiden, who turned deadly pale at his words. As for Capt. Loring, he was infuriated at the imperti- nence of Black Bear, and started toward him, as though to spring upon him; but was checked by an entreating cry from the girl. : “Father, the great chief, Black Bear, has asked me to become his wife. Allow me to answer him.” Then she walked up to the Indian, and said, softly: “The Black Bear must know that the heart of the Valley Lily, as he calls me, is not her own, and she never cares to marry any one. “He is an Indian, and she is a paleface, and as far separated as is the winter and summer. “Were she to leave her home and her people, the Black Bear would soon have to place her in her grave, for she would pine away and die. “Let the Black Bear return to his tribe, and select from among the redskin maidens of his village one to take to his tepee as a bride.” BILL STORIES. 3 The chief listened attentively to her words, but showed no signs of what impression they made upon him. But when she had finished speaking, he said: “The Black Bear has heard, but his ears refuse to listen, for the Valley Lily must be his wife.” “No,” and Lou spoke firmly. “The Black Bear has spoken.” Not “Tet me throw the red rascal out of the door, Lou,” cried the captain. The eyes of the chief flashed at the words, and he said, sternly : “The paleface has but to look out of that door to see hundreds of my warriors, ready to come at my war cry.” Capt. Loring turned pale, and, again entreated by his daughter, remained silent, while she said: “The Black Bear comes with war paint on his face and with his warriors at his back to seek a paleface wife. ‘Tet him return with his braves and come alone, and the Valley Lily will hear what he has to say.” Lou Loring spoke quietly. She well knew that there was trouble ahead, and tried to gain time, to give warning to the settlers. But the wily chief had become infatuated with her beauty, and really loved her for having saved his life. He knew that he was a great chief, and that any maiden of his village would be glad to preside over his tepee. Why then should he be refused by the paleface girl? CHAPTER Til SACRIFICED. For a moment after Lou Loring’s last words, Black Bear remained silent. Then he. said: “The Black Bear knows that the singing bird cannot be made to sing, or the flower to bloom when it has no sun- shine, and he would win the love of the Valley Lily by bringing her trophies of his skill as a hunter; he would make for her a grand tepee, and do deeds that would win, her affection. “But his warriors will not wait, for they have unburied the hatchet against the palefaces. “The people of the Valley Lily have killed my people, have burned my villages, have stolen the ponies of my warriors, and yet they say the hatchet is buried. “But my braves have painted their faces and have come upon the warpath. They are in numbers as the fringe on the Black Bear’s leggings, and will strike the paleface tepees before the moon comes from behind the moun- tains.’ Both Capt. Loring and his daughter were thunderstruck at this announcement. ee SS 4 THE BUFFALO They knew that many young men in the settlement had done treacherous deeds of late toward the Indians, and had openly boasted that or had struck a village, in the absence of its warriors, and burned the tepees, and run off the ponies. Now the Indians were on the warpath for revenge, and those who knew the redskin character could well under- stand what that revenge would be. The settlers could bring together a hundred fighting men, it was true; but both the captain and Lou knew that, taken by surprise, as they would be, they would be no match for Black Bear and the five hundred braves it was known he could take into battle with him. The father and daughter read what was passing the face of each other. A TG wild at the desperation of their eae the girl now said: he Black Bear comes to the Valley Lily to asi ove, and brings his braves to kill her people?” < Bear has urged his warriors not to come; a no ears tp hear him. ‘He has told them that he loved the Valley Lily and would not lead her to his tepee, with the hand red with blood of her people, and they ask him will the Lily go to his tepee?”’ “And your answer?’ The voice of the girl was hoarse with emotion. “That the Black Bear will ask her.” “Tt the Lily refuses to go to your tepee?”’ “Then the warriors of the Black Bear will the warpath.” the Black Bear no power to stop his braves ? suffered greatly, and my braves are 1a ts ee t ne in go upon black with anger, and will not ae “Ti I consent to go to your tepee?’ As Lou Loring spoke, her voice trembled and she was per fectly pallid. “Then my warriors will go back to their village, and the hatchet will be buried.” “Then I make the sacrifice, chiei “The Valley. Lily will go to yo bride.” She sank down in a her face with her hands. The eyes of the Indian chief Loring cried savagely: By f by ur tepee and be your chair as she spoke, and covered flashed joyfully, and Capt. “No, no! deaven, this sacrifice shall not be made, Lou.” “It shall be, father.’ “I say no; and, come what may, I will hurl this red devil from my house.” it will but start the volcano that and this lovely valiey will be the and death. ‘Father! remember, lies beneath our feet, scene of fire BILL TORIES. “T am but one. If these red warriors are turned loose upon the settlement, the v-ctims will be many. ‘Tt is hard for you, father; but it is harder for 1 me. Yet I make the sacrifice, to save others.” “But can ou trust the chief?” “Ves father, I feel that I can.” “The Black 4 ear’s tongue is not crooked,” said the Indian. “Then, when he comes again, and alone, the Vailey said the captain. through the ruse of the captain, Lily will become his wife,” The cunning Indian saw and said: “The Valley Lily must return now with the Black Capt. a groaned in agony of spirit; but, master- ing her emotion, Lou said, addressing the Indian: lhe : aws of the palefaces are different from those of the Black Bear. He must make her his wife by the words of the Great Spirit Chief of her people, and when she goes to his village, the Medicine Chief of his tribe can make her the same as an Indian maiden.” “The Black Bear is willing,” was the reply. “Then I will go for Parson Brownlow, and have him perform the marriage service,” said Capt. Loring, eagerly, seizing his hat. But the arm of Black Bear detained him. “No, the paleface has a crooked heart, and would tell the white braves that the Black Bear and his warriors are jicie, “Let the Valley Lily go. If she comes back with more than the Great Spirit Chief, her father will die by the hand of the Black Bear.” Lou Loring shuddered. She understood that there was no escape for her. True, she could warn the settlers; and once Be they could, perhaps, beat back the Indians, though many would suffer. a4 But then her father’s life would be the certain sacrifice. Therefore, she would not retreat from her pledge and merely ask the minister to come with her to her home. She left the cabin, saddled and mounted her horse, and dashed away to Parson Brownlow’s house, leaving Black Bear standing outside of the door, with her father a prisoner. She caught sight of dark forms flitting here and there, and knew that the chief's warriors lay hidden in the woods and elsewhere,-and that his threat had not been an idle one. The mile to Parson Brownlow’s house she rode like the wind, and found upon her arrival there, that worthy man just preparing to read family prayer in his little house- hold. “Is your father sick?” he asked. e8 y» THE BUFFALO “No, but he is anxious to see you upon an important matter” The parson was a brisk-moving man. He was forced to be spry to keep up with the youthful generation, and to get ahead of “the world, the flesh and the devil” that would show itself in his flock. Tence it did not take him long to mount his old horse and return with Lou, whom he found it hard to draw into conversation. Upon his arrival, he started at finding Black Bear a guest of Capt. Loring, and fairly trembled at the revela- tion made to him. The parson was a good man, and gently urged against the sacrifice: but he was a cautious man, and a selfish one, and rather than that he should be scalped, he preferred to have poor Lou the sufferer. ““She is but one, and we are many; besides shé is not to be butchered and scalped, and we would be. “The chief is a fine looking man, and I guess would be a better husband to her than some of the profligates that ate devil-doomed about here “FHe’s off color, I know; but Pocahontas was an Indian, and she married a paleface, and I married a nigger to a white man once, and that was worse. “So I guess I’ll perform the ceremony; though [ll not get any fee out of it, pale ss I take that handsome buffalo- robe the chief wears Such was the senieeut of Parson Brownlow; and he being willing, and Capt. Loring unable to say no, whi Lou consented to be sacrificed, no more was said. In a stolid way the chief went through the ceremony. Lou Loring was as white as a corpse, and could scarce keep from faintin 3ut she passed the ordeal bravely; then threw herself into her father’s arms and wept A moment she yielded to weakness, and then with a sad farewell she tottered toward the door. The chief placed her in her saddle, called his own pony to. his side, mounted and said: “The Black Bear will keep his word, and the hatchet shall be buried.” Then the two rode away; and behind them, at a sig- nal from the chief, came hundreds of warriors, who seemed to have sprung like magic from the ground. Through the settlement’ went the sad tidings of poor Lou’s sacrifice, and strong men wept when they knew the fate of the noble girl, and envious maidens forgave her the heartaches she had caused them. 8: th CHAPTER IV. AN ASSASSIN AND AN AVENGER. “I feel strangely sad to-night, and a weight like an iron hand rests on my heart.” BILL STORIES. : The speaker stood on the banks of the Mississippi River, and was gazing out over the starlight waters. The hour was late. He had come forth from a small cottage standing back from the river, from the open door of which shone a bright light. A mile or so below him were visible the lights of the city of St. Louis, that cast their bright reflections far up into the sky, and there came to his ears the rumble of wheels rolling over the stony pavements. As he stood there, his hat off, as though to, cool his brow with the evening breeze, he was so taken up with the thoughts that were flashing through his brain, that he failed to observe a dark form cautiously coming toward him, while out upon the waters a black cbject was visible that indicated a boat. Instead of floating down with the stream, the boat was slowly coming shoreward, impelled by the two oars urged by strong arms. The one so noiselessly approaching on oe could hear the musings of the man standing upon the r the latter spoke aloud: “Ah, mel? he said; it is seventeen years fateful night, and yet it is as fresh in my though it were but yesterday. “Oh, what a coward I was not to die for her, ay, with her then, rather than see her meet such a fate! “Poor, noble girl, sacrificed to save others, and becom- ing the wife, ay, the slave of an Indian master ! “You saved Valley Farms settlement, my beautiful Lou, but you wrecked yourself; for to what a life of degrada- tion and misery did 3 you not go? ‘Who will ever know the angttish you suffered as the squaw of an Indian chief? “They say you were a queen among the redskins, and that yotir Indian husband ever treated“you well; but may I be accursed for my selfishness and cowardice, in not dying for you that night. “Better had it been that I killed you with my own hand, than have had you become what you did; and, oh! why did I not live to avenge you, instead of living to make accursed gold? “T have, instead, grown rich in this world’s goods, and now pass my declining years in regret, for wealth buys me not peace of soul. a Wei b bank KK 101 “They say that you are dead, laid away in a canyon of the mountains, having died of a broken heart, while I live on. “Scouts and trappers have told me that you left a beautiful child, and that her father, Black Bear, loves her as he did you. “Well, my duty is plain; and that is, that I leave all my wealth to your child, that Indian girl. : “T will myself see the child; and if old Black bear re- 6 of THE BUFFALO fuses to give her to me, I will take her from him, and make her my heiress—ha!—oh, God! help! help! help!” With the last word uttered, Capt. Alfred Loring, the father of Lou Loring, fell upon the ground, while above him bent the dark form that had noiselessly crept upon him. In his hand the man held a knife, which he had driven deep into the back of his victim. “Aha! at last I have money, for here it is, and I have not tracked him in vain,” said the assassin, gloatingly, as he bent over the prostrate man and drew a roll of bank notes from his pocket. Just then the boat that had been slowly coming across the river touched the bank, and the occupant sprang out. The assassin heard and saw him for the first time, and turned to bound away. “Hold! or I fire!” rang out in clear, stern tones. But the assassin heeded not, and bounded on. Then there came a flash and sharp report, and the man fell dead, still clutching the bank notes in his hand. CHAPTER «Vv. THE INDIAN HEIRESS. Bounding up the bank, the boatman bent over the pros- trate form of Capt. Loring, just as two persons came has- tening, half dressed, out of the little cottage. The one was an old man, the other a woman, his wife, and they cried in chorus: “What is it? Are you kilt, cap’n?” “Come here and aid me to carry him into the house, for he is, I fear, fatally wounded,” ordered, rather than said, the boatman, in peremptory tones. “Who is it that’s kilt?’ asked the old man, timidly. “Come and see, for I do not know him. “IT was crossing the river from the other shore, where I have been gunning, and ianded there just as that villain drove a knife into his back and robbed him.” “Lordy! is that a dead man?” asked the old woman, looking up the bank to where she and her husband now saw the dark form of the assassin lying. “Yes; but if I stop to answer all your questions this man will die. “Come, one of you hasten for a doctor, while the other aids me in doing what I can for this man, who may not be mortally wounded.” The tone of the speaker had the desired effect, for the old rmaan darted away to the stable to get a horse and go after the doctor, while the old woman hastened back to the cottage to prepare a cot for the wounded man. Raising him in his strong arms, the one so opportunely arriving upon the scene bore Capt. Loring into the little cottage and placed him upon a bed, where he proceeded to BILL STORIES. staunch the blood that flowed from the ugly wound in his back. “Who is he?” he asked. “His name is Capt. Alfred Loring, sir, and he boards with us. He is very rich, and a nice gentleman as any- body wants to know,” answered the old woman. “Well, he will have to die, for he can never recover from this wound. “See, he is returning to consciousness. Then it will be a question of but a short time before he goes.” As the man spoke, Capt. Loring groaned. Opening his eyes and glancing around, he let them rest upon the old woman. “What has happened, Mrs. Bentley?” he asked, faintly. “You have been wounded, cap’n, and this gentleman says——”’ “An assassin struck you in the back, sir, to rob you. I think he followed you from town,” interrupted the stranger. “Yes, I drew quite a sum from the bank to-day, and noticed a rough-looking man watching me. And he got my money and escaped?” “No, for I called to him to halt, and, as he did not obey, I killed him; and here is the roll of bills I took from his hand: But ue must not talk, sir, as your wound is a severe one.” “I know it; yes, I feel that it is my death wound, for I have had a presentiment of evil for days. I owe you thanks, sir.” “Do not speak of it, sir; I only wish I had landed from my boat a moment sooner, to have prevented that villain’s blow.” “Ah! sir, it was predestined. “Well, I do not repine. I have lived my time, I sup- pose, and only sorrow have I known of late years; ay, for seventeen long years I have bitterly suffered. “But, sir, I feel myself growing weaker, and would see a lawyer before I die, for I have a duty to perform.” “The woman’s husband has gone for a physician, sir, and I am a lawyer; if I can be of service, command me.” “Thank God!” and Alfred Loring gazed into the bold, intelligent face of the man before him, as though he had done him a greater service in saying he was a lawyer, than in having killed his assassin. Just then the physician arrived, and the slightest ex- amination of the wound was sufficient to show that it was fatal. “Well, doctor, tell me the truth ?” “You must die, Capt. Loring.” “Amen!” The word was uttered almost thankfully. Then, an instant’s silence, Alfred Loring said, addressing pa lawyer : Ps “ ioe DUPE ALO ‘You have heard, sir?” Yes. “The doctor can do me no good.” “T feared so, sir, from the first.” UVou cane “T am at your service wholly.” Vout name, please. “Mark Manning.” “Thank you; now, Mr. Manning, get pen, ink and pa- per, and draw up my will as I dictate, and I will sign it while I have strength, and the doctor and my friends here can be witnesses, while I make you, sir, executor.” The young lawyer looked both surprised and pleased, and soon had the “writing materials before him. Then the will was dictated slowly, but in a firm voice, interrupted now and then by groans which suffering -wrtung from the strong man. And to the child of Black Bear, Sioux Chief, and his late white wife, Louisa Loring, said child answering to the Indian name of Red Dove, the large fortune of Alfred Loring was bequeathed, excepting small legacies to Abram Bentley and his wife, and a few thousand dollars as a fee to the young lawyer. “And to. you, Mark Mea I give the duty of finding my grandchild, and placing in her hands the fortune I be- queath her. “Now give me the pen,” and, taking it, Alfred Loring wrote his name, with a seemingly firm hand, which half an hour after was cold in death. 3) CHAPTER VE MARK MANNING'S QUEST. Poker City was a characteristic border town in the heart of a mining region, and its denizens were of a type that did not itispire perfect confidence in a stranger at the first. glance. Still, beneath those bearded faces honesty .and noble- ness were often hidden, the work-worn hands could give a square grip, and a true heart beat under many a coarse woolen shirt. But most of the citizens were men “on the make;” and adventurers hired these for the purpose of making a for- tune in the easiest way for themselves. There were others who had come there to work hard for fortune’s smiles, and to take the yellow metal they had dug from the earth back to the loved ones in the far- away, homes. “The Ranchero’s Exchange,’ was the principal hotel in the place, if it even could be designated under that title. Then there were the cabins of the miners, a score of aoe and double that number of drinking shops and gambling NI Ge ony Nahe Ta eens WS a oe eR ee ee comes tn acy BILL STORIES. : 7 saloons, the grandest of the latter being Paddy Wells’ “Palis o’ Fine Arts,” as the sign read. In addition, there were several blacksmith shops and a jail, which was used for preaching in, when there was a parson to preach, the prisoners, if any, being ironed during the service. Such was Poker City, at the time of which T write; and it is no wonder that a young man, who alighted from the noonday stage, before the Ranchero’s Exchange, gazed somewhat curiously around him. He was a man of large stature, well formed, dressed in a corduroy hunting suit, wore a sombrero and top boots and had a face that was good looking, resolute, fearless yet a trifle cunning and selfish. =? ’ If he was armed, he wore his weapons under his sack coat, and looked, what many believed he was, or a stage line or express agent. a huntsman, Upon the register of the hotel he wrote his name in a bold hand, and it read: “Mark Manning—St. Louis, Mo.” He asked for a pleasant room, said he expected to re- main some little time, and inquired cs he could pur- chase a good horse and procure a good guide. These questions he asked of “Governor Dave,’ as the landlord ‘was called. Gov. Dave had come in to the proprietorship of the hotel through the death of the former owner, Bouncer Brooks, who had laid a plot for the assassination of Buf- falo Bill, and had been promptly caught in his own death trap. Gov. Dave had been the “Boss of the Bar” before, and felt his dignity greatly because of his promotion. To Mark Manning’s question he answered: “T can sell you as good a horsé as you ever backed, and that belonged to my late lamented friend, the former pro- prietor of my hotel. “T can give you pleasant quarters and good hash as long as you pay for them, and I'll find some one who can tell you about a guide. and get your dinner ,an’ you looks as tho’ you “Come, take som’en an’ then go in while it’s hot. I cold vittals might do the same.’ Mark Manning accepted both invitations of the gov- ernor. When he had oe his seat at the hotel table, he found next to him a man who had a youthful-looking form, but whose hair, worn falling upon his shoulders, and beard, which fell to his waist, His eyes were black and piercing, his face bronze Ch aia ruddy; there were few that could guess within e of a century of his age. He wore black buckskin legeings, a hunting were almost snow white. 25 fo eS 35 bet em OD. tae en PISO aac the same material, top boots, a belt of arms, and a black sombrero lay by his chair. “I heerd yer ax fer a guide, Pard Stranger?” said the man, addressing Mark Manning, after he had taken his seat. “Yes, I wanted to engage a good man for some work I have on hand. Do yOu know of such a one?” “i does:7 fis he in Roker City 7 “He are.” ““And can be relied on?’ “Tor what biz?” “As a man who will not shirk danger or hardship!’ “He can.” “And is thoroughly acquainted with this country and the Indian tribes?” le vanes, “Then he will suit me. “What is his name?” “Old Whitehead.” “Where can I find him?’ “Right here.” : “Where?” and Manning glanced up and down the table, at the few boarders still eating. “T are Old Whitehead, ther scout.” OUT: “Yass don't 1 (oo: it, Stranger ne ne Mark Manning looked at the buckskin suit and white hair and beard, and said, honestly: Vou do,’ “Yer thinks I needs recommendations as ter bein’ ther scout ?”” “T do not doubt your capacity, sir, and if you are known here as a scout of ability, | will engage your services.” _ “Ask ther governor ef I hain’t a man thet knows a pony track from a buffler bull huf.” “Well, come to my room after dinner and we will talk it Over.) “Tl be thar, pard.” Mark Manning having se his dinner, sought Gov. Dave. “Do you know a man here by the name of Old White- head ?” Vldor, “Well, is he a good scout ?” “No one has a better reputation as such, though little else is known regarding him.” “Tell me what you know of him, please?” “Well, he has led the Vigilantes in several of their ex- peditions, is as brave as a lion, and was once the only sur- vivor of a party of rangers that went on an Indian trail. “He lives somewhere in the mountains, and alone, comes THe BUREPALO BILL STORIES. to town very seldom and only to buy provisions and sell pelts. “He is in town now, and might be willing to be your guide.” “He is willing; and I’ll engage him as such,” and Mark Manning went to his room, where soon aiter he was joined by Old Whitehead. CHAPTER VIL. TRAILING AN HEIRESS. “Be seated, old man, and fill up your pipe,” said Mark Manning, as Old es entered his room in answer to the call to “come in.’ “I doesn’t smoke, pard, fer it onsteadies the narves; an’ seldom are it I take tanglefoot, fer thet makes a man jerky. One in my biz hes teer be sure he kin hit dead center when he has call ter shoot.” “This is a pretty wild place and a man’s life is not worth much here?’ volunteered Mark Manning, in- quiringly. . “Well, it are a leetle tough, in its way; but then a man’s life are wuff jist as much ter him heur as it ate in other places, only thar hain’t as many as kin take car’ o’ the’r- selves, an’ ther law dont help ’erm. “As fer me, I are not meddlesome, but ef I are called on ter subscribe ter a entertainment, I allus tries ter be lib’ral. Now, pard, what are yer name?’ “Mark Manning.” “Whar does yer hail from?’ Pohalouts.” “A likely village, I has heerd; waal, what kin I do fer verre “You know the country well?” “I does, from Oregon to Dakota, and from thar ter Texas. “You are acquainted with the Indian tribes who are in this vicinity ?” “Yas, an’ they is acquainted with me.” “Do you know the tribe of Black Bear ?” “IT does, an’ the B’ar hissef.” “Indeed; then you are the man I want,” said Mark Manning, eagerly. “T guess I are,’ was the laconic response. “Does Black Bear i his village far from here?” “A purty long jump.’ 1 eteis.a oTéat chiet,” “He are ther boss of-’em all, an’ squar’, too, fer an Injun.” “Has he any family?” “Fambly ?” “Yes, a wife and children ?” “Waal, he had a white wife, which he tuk from a set- tlement, she goin’ with him as his squaw, ter keep his watriors from massacreein’ Valley Farms.” “What became of her?” “She were, too high-toned ter live in a tepee, an’ she tarned her toes up ter ther daisies jist one year an’ a half arter she become Mrs. Black B’ar.” “Did she leave any children ?”’ Overs pard! : “How many?” “Waal, some says two, an’ ae I hes heerd thet one are ther child of Bear’s second wife, who was the daughter of a chief, whom he married shortly arter marryin’ his first wife, ter consolidate ther tribes. “Yer knows, I reckon, thet Injuns is like Mormons, they kin hev more’n one wife?’ | “Yes, so I have heard. But tell me, was this child by his first wife a boy or a girl?” “She were a girl; an’ t’other one, by ther Injun wife, he were a boy.” “Do you know ‘her name?” “They calls her Red Dove; but she kin show ther claws o’ a wildcat when she are cornered, an’ are as good on ther trail an’ ther shoot as arry warrior in ther tribe. “Ther boy are calt Iron Eyes, an’ hev already won his eagle feathers. Ther two tergether, an’ they hunts as a pair, are a team as no man wud find it healthy ter tackle,” The eyes of the young lawyer sparkled with joy at the discovery he had made thus far, and he mentally congratu- lated himself upon being so ONG as to meet Oid Whitehead, “Tell me, my friend, when did you last see this girl?” “Red Dove?” ROves. “About two weeks ago.” Vis. sue: pretty, “Purty hain’t ther name, pard. She are jist dervine.” “How old is she?’ “’Bout sixteen, or thereabout.” “She has the Indian complexion, of course.” “Oh, she do show thet thar’s Injun blood in her veins; but then ther white blood o’ her ma are more evident, an’ she were a beauty.” “You knew her mother, then?” “Yas, I know’d her.” “What was her name?” “Louisa Loring.” : “There can be no mistake,” muttered the lawyer, half aloud. Then he asked: “Does the Red Dove speak English?” “As good as I does—waal, I’d better say as you does, fer my English are jist a leetle off color, as yer may hev obsarved, pard.” THE BUBFALO BILL STORIES, “But she is not educated ?”’ “Pard, don’t yer show yourself a greenhorn, ef yer means by eddication ther l’arnin’ she hev got out 0’ books. “But ef yer means ridin’ a bar’-back mustang, shootin’ a bow an’ arrer, throwin’ a lariat, hittin’ dead center with a rifle an’ pistol, an’ throwin’ a knife whar she aims it, she are the best eddicated gal I ever seen. “They do say a missionary what dwelt a long time in ther tribe taught her book-larnin’, but I doesn’t know that.” “Well, my man, I have come out West just to see the Red Dove.”’ Old Whitehead looked his surprise. “What! does yer intend ter git her to travel with a cirkiss as ther most beaut’ful Injun gal on top o’ ther ‘arth? TNO “Does yer want ter marry a Injun gal?” “No. I suppose I can trust’ you?’ “You kin ontil death do us part.’ “Well, as I told you, I am a lawyer.” “You don’t say?” “Yes, and I am the executor of an estate.” “The what—a cutor of what State?’ “You don’t understand.” “No, but’ I are willin’ ter.” “T am in charge of a property that was left by one Captain Alfred Loring to the child of his daughter, the same Lou Loring that married Black Bear.” “A Injun gal with money?’ “Yes, and it is a large fortune at that. “Now, I have come here to meet this Red Dove, who is the heiress, and tell her of her good fortune, and urge that she return to St. Louis with me and take possession of it.” “Lordy! but is yer hitched: pard?”’ “I don’t understand.” “Is yer: married?’ “Oh! no, I am a single man.” “T see; waal, yer wants me ter arrange fer yer to see ther Red Dover’ Lo “What are yer willin’ to plank r” “How do you mean?” “What amount o’ dust are it worth ter yer ter see ther gal.” : “Tive hundred dollars.” “My scalp are worth more than that.” “Then it would be dangerous to go to Black Bear’s village?” “Jist try it, pard; but afore yer leaves let me hev a lock o’ yer ha’r ter send ter yer parints, fer ther Injuns w’u'd take ther rest.” i t A t h i y i i 10 “T have no desire to be killed, but I will risk any danger to see the Red Dove.” “Ver see, old Black B’ar did love thet white. wife o’ his’n, thar are no doubt, an’ she made a good Injun 0’ him, an’ eddycated him all she c’u’d. a Vaal: child, an’ from him hes a all thet love, an’ more, too, he hev give ter her ther man as goes to take ther Red Dove away hard road ter travel, I kin sw’ar.” “Then there must be some secret arrangement made to ee her.” CONT 19 ASAD “And can arrange this?’ Rib kin.” “What is your price?” “Two thousand dollars.” “That is a large sum.” “T hev a large scalp lock.” “Well, you arrange for me to meet the Red Dove, and will pay you the money.” “T tell yer, pard, jist leave it with a fren’ o’ mine in town ter pay ter me, when I brings an order from you, or give it back ter you ef I doesn’t take yer ter ther gal. fa ran square, aint itt: — Tt. het are &ENXT Fei ¥ €s; start on our trip?” and I will do as you wish. Now, when shall we “In a week’s time, fer I hés got ter l’arn ther oe QO a feller as is a friend o’ ther gal’s, an’ who w'u'd fight ther devil to sarve her, ef he thought we meant any harm to Her “But, on contrary, 1 mean only good to her. Who is this man?’ asked Manning, somewhat anxiously. Ripe O° hers” “An Indian.” “No; he are cl’ar white, an’ a terter.” a “A bad character, you mean?’ “He are the badest man in these heur parts on ther Poker City knows it.” “But who is he?’ shoot, an’ “Ver'll find his name on ther tavern register when he comes ter town, an’ he do sometimes, as ‘Buffalo Bill.’ ” “Ha! Buffalo Bill, the famous scout?” 4 Viet -samey, “He is known all over the countr yes “Yet h He are. a Des man.” And he lives here?’ i No, pard. But he runnin’ down road agents and tough fightin’ war-trail Injuns. He’s been heur several times, an’ | heard ter-day that he’s headed this way agin, an ne about ce ter arrive. Thar’ll likely be livel ely times when He spends his time characters, and nes heur. he do. come. “Tf a feller is dea ulin’ square with the world, he needn't THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. Dee ar se ee be afraid of Buffalo Bill. But if he’s playin’ crooked, then he wants to look out. “Ther last time he war heut he run ter cover the Robin Red Breast, a renegade of ther mountains, an’ then Devil Don, our Vigilante cap’n, who were playin’ a double game, fer he were a road agent, too. “Red Dove an’ her half brother, in them scrapes. “Ther gal an’ Old Black -B’ar on’st tuk keer 0’ Buffalo Bill when he were wotinded, so he sits great store by ae oe fambly.” Eyes, helped him t Tron 7 But I have come here for the good of the girl, and I shall allow no interference from Buffalo Bill or any other man,” said Manning, sternly. “Pard, thet ain’t ther question as ter what yer'll allow; it are what Buffalo Bill will allow.” “He must keep clear of me, or there will be trouble.” “You talks an’ look grit, pard, an’ I believes yer'll back up yer words. “But ther best plan are not to let Buffalo Bill know about yer wantin’ ther gal, an’ then thar will be no trouble. “Did you ever write a letter ter ther Injun agint about ther gal, an’ a fortin’ left her?” ves. added: “But I got no answer.” “More’n likely. Ther letter were tuk from ther mail by ther road-agint, Dagger Dan, an’ fell inter Buffalo Bill’s han’s as a inheritance, he hevin’ got Dan strung up fer ther safety o’ ther commoonity. heur answered the lawyer, with surprise; then he “Buffalo Bill ’vised ther gal then ter go East an’ see ef thar were any truth in the story: “A young feller who heerd o’ ther fortune tried ter force ther gal ter marry him, and kept her tied in a cave. “As Bill met a friend who had jist come ther way they went, an’ hadn’t seen ’em, he got anxious, struck thar trail, an’ thet young aspira : fer matrimony with a Injun wife, jist tarned his toes up ter ther daisies. Then Buffalo Bill tuk gal back ter her people. “This didn’t leak out in: general, pard, but I knows about it; so yer see I hes heerd o’ this fortin’-fer a Injun heiress afore.” “Well, arrange it your own way for me to see her.” “Pll do it, an’ first find out jist whar Buffalo Bill are, an’ what he are doin’.” Old Whitehead’s search for Buffalo Bill seemed satis- factory; for, a few days after the conversation just fe- lated, two men rode out of Poker City after nighttfall, both well mounted and armed; and the two were Mark Manning, the St. Louis lawyer, and the white-haired scout. ther CHAPTER VIII. BUFFALO BILL. The morning after the departure of Old Whitehead and the lawyer on the hunt for the Indian heiress, a horseman rode slowly into Poker City He was a man of splendid physique, over six oe in height, broad-shouldered, and sat his horse, a superb animal, with the ease of one born in the saddle. The horseman was the famous scout, Buffalo Biull, mounted on his handsome black horse, Midnight. Altogether he was a man to do and dare, to win love and cause fear, a bitter foe, a true friend, one who asked no odds and took all chances, calm as a May morn in the greatest danger, and deadly as Death when armed. As he entered the street of Poker City he urged his horse into a canter, and stopping before the Ranchero’'s Exchange, dismounted. “Go to the stable, Midnight,’ he said, quietly, to his horse, when he had taken off his saddle-roll, and the intelligent animal galloped around the hotel to the back yard as though well-knowing the place. “Ah! Buffalo Bull, glad to see you. “THav’n’t seen you since the day we hung up Dagger Dan,” said Gov. Dave, extending his hand in welcome, and in the other holding out a pen for the scout to register his name. | “Thank you, Dave. Is there any news in town?” asked Buffalo Bill, in his quiet way. “Not an item. Things are stale since the gang got cleaned out, an’ there’s talk of a church and a temp’rance society. “But the stage going west is due soon, and there may be something of interest to hear then. How’s business with you, if I may ask?” ’ “Every thing is going well, thank you. I believe. But can you tell me who this is?” Buffalo Bill pointed to a name on the register, which he had been quietly glancing over. “Ah! you mean Mr. Manning?” “Ves; who is he?” “A lawyer from St. Louis, I believe, and a reg’lar gent all over. Pays for all he gets, an’ got good accommoda- tions.” “Is he here now?” TNO Ee ) Gone 23 ves, last niont. “By stage?’ “No, on horseback; did you know him, Buffalo Bill?” “Ihave heard of him, and would have been glad to see him. “Where has he gone?’ “Don’t know.” a Nothing new, THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. “Which way did he go?” “Up in the mountains.” “Not alone 17 “Oh, no; he had a guide.” “Who ?” “Old Whitehead.” “Yes, I have seen him; but tell me, Governor, do you know what brought this lawyer to Poker City?” “I do not. He said he had biz here, and went off with Whitehead.’ “Which trail did they take?” “You don’t mean the lawyer harm, I hope, Bill, for he is a prime fellow.” “That depends on what he is up to. If he means harm to a certain one I could name, then I mean harm to him. If his intentions are honorable he has nothing to fear from me. “What he does mean, though, I intend to find out. It seems to me it may be a good thing that I reached Poker City this morning. I thank you for your information, Dave; and now I must be going.” UM Bat, a ready ¢: ON cat “Why, you’ve just come.” “True; but I must be going. I want to learn what that lawyer and Whitehead are up to.” So, less than a half-hour after he had entered Poker City, Buffalo Bill galloped out of it. “That lawyer is the one mentioned in the letter which I found when Dan, the desperado, was hung. It con- cerned. Red Dove. I’m much afraid the lawyer is a rascal and means the Indian girl harm. If so, let him beware. She is a friend of mine, has helped me when I needed help, and I’ll stand by her now, if she needs me.” Thus musing, the scout galloped on, taking the trail followed by Manning and Whitehead the night before. CHAPTER IX. OLD WHITEHEAD ON THE TRAIL. ~Pard, we hes got ter a place where we hev ter part comp’ny.” The speaker was Old Whitehead, and the one he ad- dressed was Mark Manning, the St. Louis lawyer. The two had drawn rein at the end of a small canyon. Before them was a towering cliff, and upon either side were walls of rock rising a hundred feet in height, and running back to the entrance, half a mile distant. The tops of the cliffs were fringed with mountain pines, and the canyon below, about a hundred feet wide, was covered with a carpet of luxuriant grass, through the center of which was a rivulet that came from a spring undet the rocks. Under the shelter of the head of the canyon, aad sur- I2 THE BUFFALO rounded by a thicket of trees that hid it from view, until close up to it, was a log cabin. It was stoutly built of logs against the wall of rock, and had but one room, twelve by twenty feet in size. Two small windows in front, and one at either end of the cabin, commanded the approaches to it up the canyon. The door was just wide enough for a man to pass through, and so low that he would have to stoop. ‘Who lives there?” asked Mark Manning, the cabin. “When I are thar, I lives thar; when I hain’t I don’t. But it are my cabin, an’ you are welcome ter make it yourn ontil I return with ther gal.” “Jt is by no means an uncomfortable place, I assure you. My horse will fare well, from the looks of the erass,” “Yas, he'll not starve, an fer a fact you won’t nuther, as I keeps a good supply o’ grub in ther shanty.” The two men dismounted, lariated their horses oft, and hung up their saddles. In a short time Old Whitehead had his cabin thrown open, a fire built, and a good dinner cooking, for he had brought game with him. After the meal the two sat down for a talk, and Old Whitehead said: “Now, Pard Ly’yer, we parts heur fer a leetle time, fer I hes ter go on alone ter ther Injun camp. “You stay heur, an’ Pil jine yer with ther gal, onless I eoes under in ther trip. In that case yer’ll excoose me, I knows. Yer’ll most likely hev ter die too, fer no man kin find his way back ther way we come, onless he were born in these heur mountains, or are a man as knows ther woods an’ plains same as you knows legal dokimints. “Now I hes a pard in these heur mountings, who are a paleface, as loves ther solitudes better then poppylation, fer reasons he keeps ter hisself. “We are friendly with the Injuns,-an’ I looks ter him ter help me git ther gal. Ef I should hev to wait round a leetle, he’ll fetch yer ther gal an’ guide yer to ther over- land, whar you kin git a stage as will hustle yer towards Ot. LOuts.: ese) reeca “T care not who brings the girl, Whitehead, if I can see her and convince her of the fortune 1 in store for her, and “Waal, she hev got a level head, an’ ef she don’t thet Buffalo Bill ter talk her out o’ it, she'll go all right “Who is this friend of yours?” “Ther Injuns calls him Lone Paleface, but in ther set- tlements, where he ust ter go, they calls him Han’some Hugh, an’ thet is ther han’le I gives him.” “Handsome Hugh; for the Red Dove to be trusted with.” pointing to then he may be a dangerous man BILE, STORIES. “Nary. He are as gentle as a kitten, ef yer don’t rub him ag’in ther fur. “T may fetch ther gal ye, but as I hes ter git him ter help me see her, he bein’ mor’ friendly with ther In- juns, I may find it convenient ter sen’ him with ther Dove. “Now Ill be off, an’ you kin jist content yerself heur. “Thar is game round about, an’ thar is fishin’ in ther streams, an’ I guess yer’ll not starve.” Ten minutes after Old Whitehead mounted his horse and rode away, leaving Mark Manning alone, and indeed a stranger in a strange land. CHAPTER x. RED DOVE. The village of Black Bear was situated in the very heart of the mountains, and in fastnesses where neither soldiers nor Boole tribes would dare attempt to attack him. The chief was a man of natural geniys, and for twenty long years had led his warriors to victory in battle, marches and retreats. Peaceful when allowed to be, he was an implacable foe to the paleface and Indian when imposed upon, and had won the respect and dread of all his enemies. In the selection of a site for his village he had chosen a spot of remarkable beauty and grandeur, as well as one So to give support to his people and pasture for his hor There + were streams flowing through the village, out of which the most delicious fish could be caught, and the mountains abounded with deer, elk, antelope, and the adjacent plains with buffalo. Then there were bears, wolves and panthers for furs, ahd the supply seemed never to be exhausted. Taught by Lou Loring, his white wife, many little ideas of civilization, he had built for himself a cabin of stout logs. It was furnished inno mean way, through the skill of Red Dove and Iron Eyes, his children; while his Indian wife had done much to help along in the gen- eral advancement. A plot back of the cabin was worked as a garden. Others of his tribe following his example in house-build- ing, the village of Manta-pa-ka, which being interpreted means Home of Rest, was by no means an unpleasant place in which to dwell, while in point of law and order it was certainly ahead of the festive town of the pale- faces, known as Poker City. Taught English by her mother, and to read and write French by a Canadian missionary, Red Dove had by no means grown up in ignorance. She had read many books which the Indians, in their numerous raids, had brought home with them, regarding them as sacred relics, THE BUFFALO Being the only one of her tribe who could read, having mastered the art of playing the guitar, her mother’s, which Capt. Loring, with many other things, had sent his sacrificed daughter, to cheer her desolate hours, possessed of a weirdly beautiful voice, being able to write and sketch the surroundings scenery to perfection, and draw likenesses of the various chiefs, it was no wonder that Red Dove was regarded in the light of a queen, especially as she was the child of the great chief Black Bear. Frequently had she gone on hunts, and even the war- path, with her half-brother, Iron Eyes, and his one hun- dred young warriors, none of whom had reached the legal age of white voters in the East, and her horsemanship was wonderful, her aim deadly, and in hurling a kniie and throwing a lasso none could excel her. Whether it was the white blood in her veins that seemed to urge her on continually, I cannot tell; but certain it is that, with her comfortable home, her power as a queen, her numerous accomplishments, she never seemed happy far down in her heart. Attracting the attention of a renegade white man, known by his deeds as Robin Red Breast, the fate of Red Dove might have been a sad one, but for her rescue by Buffalo Bill. The great scout had at that time saved her; and later he had rescued her from the designing villain in whose charge she had started to St. Louis, to solve the truth, or falsehood, of her inheritance. It is not to be wondered at, then, that for Buffalo Bill she had a high regard. After her rescue by him, as stated, she had returned to the Indian village. There she had been constantly on the go, by the side of her brother, Iron. Eyes. One day his band had started upon an extensive hunt, and Red Dove, with woman’s fickleness of nature, which can be found in the tepee of the Indian, as well as in the palaces of the metropolis, refused at the last minute to go, through some caprice. Away then Iron Eyes and his band started for the plains. Hardly had they been gone an hour before Red Dove grew very lonesome. Her father, the Black Bear, was in the council tepee, with the head chiefs, and there seemed nothing for her to do. She tried to work ona, pair of moccasins she was mak- ing, but soon cast them aside. _ Then she took up a pair of leggings she was fringing ) for herself, and that work did not suit her. Beading a buckskin waist for herself was tiresome also, nd it too was cast aside. Her guitar caught her eye and she tried to sing a little French song the priest had taught her. BILL STORIES. 13 Impatiently she cast the guitar away. Putting on her hunting costume, and telling her stepmother that she was going to follow on the trail of the hunters and overtake them, she caught her spotted pony, and seizing her rifle and belt of arms, she sprang into the saddle and darted away like the wind. She readily struck the hunters’ trail and was following it at a slow canter, when suddenly, while passing through a gorge in the rocks, she was confronted by a horseman. ct Instantly she brought her rifle around ready for use; but the horseman raised his hands above his Head, the palms turned toward her, and said: “J mean the Red Dove no harm.” The horseman who so suddenly confronted the Red Dove, in a spot where she had little dreamed of meeting any one, was a man of striking appearance. His face was darkly pe by long exposure to the elements, and he had a black mustache and imperial, very long black hair, and dark, earnest, fascinating eyes. e He seemed young at first glance, yet had evidently passed. his fortieth year. His form was tall, elegant, denoting strength and quickness of action, and he was dressed in a corudroy hunting suit of dark brown, the pants stuck in top-boots, the heels of which were armed with spurs. A large, soft hat sheltered his head, a belt of arms en- circled his waist, beneath his oe jacket, and a rifle was strapped behind him on the saddle. “What does the Lone ee want with the Red Dove, that he stands in her path?” asked the girl, quietly, appearing to recognize the horseman. “Th ie Lone Paleface comes from the friend of the Red Dove,” he answered in soft tones. “The Red Dove 7 as many friends.’ “True; but she has one who looks to her good more than others, and he has sent the Lone Paleface to tell her to come to him.’ “Who is this friend ?” “Buffalo Bill.” The bronzed face of Red Dove flushed at the name, and a glad light flashed in her eyes. But che said quietly : “Why did he not come himself to see the Red Dove?” “He could not. He has a friend from the great city with him, who has come to tell the Red Dove that the father of her mother is oF and has left her gold to make her richer than her whole tribe.” “The Red Dove has enough to eat, warm furs to sleep on, a wooden tepee to shelter her, ponies, clothing and all she needs. “She cares not for gold, that the white man fights for, toils for, and dies to get.” wm i i a } 14 THE BUFFALO “Vou are the first one I ever struck that didn’t want gold,” muttered the man; but he said aloud: “The Red Dove has the blood of the paleface in her veins, and her mother came from the land of the rising sun. a! to the birth- she can go of the creat cities D is hers peop ole, in - poet ne ike. and do much good for the tribe of the Black Bear “TL 78 eR nso aan est If she sold, she can bit linger out here mountains, c > in these Wi ae n the canyon. Be march with gol d, and when she is grown Older be ere; eves nt upon was evigcen ne was UNE = } } . RUS . ms Bill: > ere L212 a Die snow you. i ° + Dn hac “Any i Dov has come WICSNES Lic Us iits SIT MAWI a sop S = other “good place on the trail for many miles. In riding, Red Dove, at Mark Manning’s suggestion, had had her arms free of the th gs, and ‘had only been bound to the saddle, so as not,to make her any more uni- comfortable than was necessary to guard against an at- tempt at escape. But when they halted, they were forced to secure her beyond possibility of getting away. In various ways Ma tk Manning had tried to win her confidence, and prove himself her ‘friend; but she kept a stolid, silent manner toward him, and he could’ not tell what was passing in her thoughts. “Once I get her where she has to depend wholly upon me, it will be all right,” he said to Handsome Hugh. The place chosen for the camp was in a clump of timber, where several large bowlders made shelters against the ‘wind. The horses had not yet been lariated out to feed, and Red Dove had just been helped to the ground by Mark Manning, when Handsome Hugh approached, after hay- ing hitched the animals, and said: “Pard, don’t you think this is a one-sided game you are playing?’ . It was the manner of the man, rather than his words, that caused Mark Manning to look up in surprise. “T repeat; don’t your conscience tell you that this is all one-sided?” “T don’t under ae a you, sir,’ said the lawyer, nettled by the sinister m r of the other. will 1 explain s SO ba you shall, “What do I get out of this little affair?’ “You mean that you want pay for your services?” hotly said Manning. cE do. 39 “Then you shall have pay; but having paid Old White- head once, I deemed that he settled with you.” ou thought wrong, patd. 1 collect my own dues.”’ “Well, this is no time to dun me for money.’ vit is the: very time, “Complete your task a “What tasl \ 2? 39 qd Twill pay you. “Guide im ie to the nearest station where I can get a stage coach.” HG THE BUFFALO “We are going from the Overland line, pard, and not to it,” was the cool reply. Mark Manning turned pale with anger and said, hotly: “What do you mean, villain?” “Be sparing with your epithets, for I am no man to brook them, and vou are in no condition to be insulting.” _ “Your words have some deeper meaning than I can see through.,”’ “I mean that I have led you into the heart of the Indian country, and I doubt if even the Red Dove couid find her way back.” “Then I shall, as her friend, be protected while you shall suffer,” sneeringly said Mark Manning. “As usual you fail to understand, my dear Mr. Man- ning. This is not the country of the tribe to which the Red Dove belongs, but of the bitterest foes to that tribe, as she will tell you.” “Is this true, Red Dove?” and Manning turned to the young girl. She answered caimiy: “For once, the Lone Face has not spoken crooked.” “By Heaven! you shail rue this act, man.” “You are in no position to threaten, Lawyer Manning,” was Handsome Hugh’s quiet rejoinder. “In the name of the saints, what means your treach- ery. 7) “I made no pledges to you, and I only seek to benefit myself.” “Then name your price.” “First, what is the amount that this girl inherits ?” “That is none of your affair.” “T will not move from this spot until I know; and I again tell you we are in deadly danger here.” “You will suffer, too.” “On the contrary, I am a chief in this tribe.” “A renegader’ sneered Manning. Missi: “A confessed one?” UM es 77 “Tf ever man deserved the halter you do.” “We are not in St. Louis, my friend, and you are not speaking to a jury, but to one man, who can be your ex- ecutioner.”’ Mark Manning seemed to clearly see the truth of this remark, for he said, sullenly: “I asked you to name your terms?’ “And I asked you the amount of this girl’s inher- itance ?”” “I refuse to tell.” “Then 1 refuse to guide you farther, and your life, and hers, be on your head.” As he spoke Handsome Hugh turned away, as though to mount his horse. SEold “Well 7” “T cover you with my revolver, and if you do not return and swear to guide me to the Overland in safety, I will kill you, for I shall make this a game that two can play instead of one.” One glance into the face of Mark Manning showed that he meant every word he uttered. Instead of cowering before his aim, as he had expected BILL. STORIES. him to do, Mark Manning was astonished to see Hand- some Hugh burst into ringing laughter. “What! do you dare me?” n¥es) “T am a dead shot.” “L doubt it.” “Patience is ceasing to be a virtue. If I kill you the Red Dove can be guide.” “What do you wish?” “Pledge yourself to guide me to the Overland.” “And the Red Dove?’ “Goes with me.” rit Tretuse 2” “T will kill you.” “You mean it?’ “So help me Heaven.” einen retuse.” Ueeana tT ire! As he spoke the hand of Mark Manning touched the trigger, the hammer fell, the explosion followed, but the man upon whom he had deadly aim neither flinched: nor fell. “I told you that I doubted you being a dead shot,” sneered Handsome Hugh. Again the crack of the revolver followed, and with a like result. “Do you pledge yourself now? I will not miss every time.” ENG? “Then you die.” Again the pistol flashed, once, twice, thrice, in rapid succession. Yet there was no sign of a wound upon the daring man, who stood sneeringly before the weapon, and not ten paces away. “You have one more shot, try that,” was the taunt. “Tawall For the sixth time, Mark Manning pulled trigger, and, as before, without result. “There is no need of your wasting your powder. You need not draw your second weapon, as it too is un- loaded.” “Unloaded?” gasped Manning. “Yes; I extracted all the bullets while you slept last night; but my weapons are loaded, and you are now in my power, for a turn about is fair play.” Quickly his hand went to his hip, and his revolver sprang to a level. Mark Manning saw that he was fairly caught. He had been outwitted by a desperate and designing villain, and was in his power. “Now, Mr. Manning, it is for me to dictate terms. Again I ask you what is the amount of inheritance left that girl?” “Why do you wish to know2” “To gauge the price 1 ask you thereby.” “Well. it amounts to something under a quarter of a million.” “Indeed! a large sum. I always knew that the old captain salted away his gold, but had no idea he had ac- cumulated so much.” coy > S You knew Capt. Loring, then?” VU did.” “Well, now you know. what are your terms?” THE BUFFALO “The same as your terms.” “Mine ?”” “Ves “What mean you?” “Are you serving this pretty indian heiress for nothing ?” “No: her grandfather left me a handsome sum as a fee, with expenses for looking her up.” “Who is the executor of the will?’ Liam: “You hold the estire property for her?” . Nias (2 “Who is her guardian ?”’ ‘eheis her own.) “She is not seventeen, and her Indian father would make a healthy old guardian in legal matters. I mean until she is of age.” “The will makes me her guardian until she is eighteen, when her property goes into her hands.” “IT thought so.” ~£Now what do you get for all this?” “T told you the will left me my fee and expenses.” “Practice good in St. Louis?” sneered Lone Paleface. “My practice is good enough to support me, and I can live among honest men, which you cannot do, being a subject for the hangman,” hotly said the lawyer. The face of Handsome Hugh flushed and then paled; but he said with provoking calmness: “T asked you what you got for all this?’ “And I told you how I was paid.” “Let me tell you your terms. “First, you hold the property, and have no idea of giving it up. “Legally you cannot keep it, unless you do something to make it your own. “That something is to marry the Indian heiress, send her to boarding-school and bring her out in a couple of years as a rival belle to the St. Louis belles.” “You are a villain that I yet hope to hang,” hissed Mark Manning, hoarse with passion, at the words of the other. As for Red Dove she stood like a statue, gazing upon the two men, her eyes only moving from the face of one to that of the other. Not a movement of her beautiful countenance’ tawed she heard, or was interested in, their conversation, yet not a word escaped her ears. “Will you tell me your terms, and end this?’ asked Mark Manning, enraged beyond control, at the sinister, sneering, smiling man before him, who held him still under the muzzle of his. revolver. “Yes, my terms are to marry the: carl.” The threatening revolver alone prevented the lawyer from springing upon the man who so coolly made known the terms he demanded. CHAPTER XILE BUFFALO BILL'S TRUMP CARD. “Devil! what do you mean?” cried Mark Manning, as he glared upon the cool face of the man known as Hand- some Hugh. “Just what 1 say, Manning.” BILL STORIES. {7 “That you demand that this young girl become your wife, in payment for your services as guide?” “You put it exactly.” “How dare you make such a base proposition 3 La “Self-preservation is the first law of nature, and I am looking out for myself. “Tf the Red Dove marries me that will not prevent her from inheriting her fortune, and, as her husband, I can urge that she go to St. Louis and attend boarding-school, and can place her under other guardianship than yours. “Also, I will put the. matter in the hands of lawyers, and make you disgorge her wealth. When she gets it in her possession, I will come for her. We can then be happy together; for I speak her tongue, I am a roamer of the mountains and plains like her people, and can and will be to her all that a husband should be, and devote my every energy to the improvement and comfort of her tribe. “T knew her father, and knew her mother years ago, and I love her. Can you bring stronger claims?’ NGSa? Mig “Name them.” “T am an honorable man.” Vand ley “Are a desperado, a hunted renegade, and a villain.” The words were said boldly, and again the dark face of Handsome Hugh flushed. “You haven't been found out yet, Manning. the only difference between us,” he said, quietly, “This is idle nonsense, this talk; so 1f you want money, and it is within my means, I will pay it,” said Mark Manning. : “T have told you my terms.” “And to them I will not listen.” “We can go to a missionary priest I know in a tribe to the north of this, and he can marry us, and “I say no “You mean my terms are too great?” pea “They are the same as your own.’ It may be that the renegade hit the ae for ihe face of the lawyer flushed at his words. “JT would rather see her dead than your wife.” “She may die yet before she reaches St. Louis with you, especially if there is a codicil in that will that, in case of Red Dove’s death, you are the next heir.” “am no ae tcree man, to kill for gold, as you doubt- less have done.” “When you come to need gold, crave it, as I have done, you may kill, too,” was the sav age reply. Then, regaining his calm, sinister maner at once, he continued : “Vou refuse?) MVS a “Will you take the girl and pledge me the fortune, then?” “Tt ig not mine to pledge, as you know.” “Then there is but one way to decide this matter.” “Tow is that?” “Tt is a way. I have of deciding all things for or against myself.” celle ® ‘Do you play cards?” That is 18 THE BUFFALO ves a. “You have gambled?” Yes” “Are you an expert player?” te] am.”’ Oo am 17 “What has this to do with the matter >?” “I will play you a game for the girl and her fortune.” “Nonsense.” “I say yes. land in safety. “If you lose, I marry the girl, you pledging yourself to take care of her until she is of age, and then to turn over her fortune to me.” “IT will not agree.” “Mr. Manning, this is your only way out of this trou- ble; for, if you refuse, I take the girl, kill you, make her my wife, and go to St. Louis and claim the fortune of my bride.” Mark Manning saw that the man was'in deadly earnest, and, always noted as a good and successful card player, he said: “Well, I accept your offer; have you cards?” - “Oh, yes! they are implements of my profession. I never go without them, any more than I would without arms.” He took a pack of cards from an inner pocket, as he spoke, and continued: “Come, Red Dove, Pll make sure of you before we begin.” He led her, unresisting, to a tree, and bound her to it. Then he walked to where a tree had been blown down by the wind, and took a seat upon it, his feet upon either side. With a pale, stern face Mark Manning followed, and seated himself opposite. The cards were then carefully shuffled, cut and dealt, and the game began. It was to be the best two in three each a more equal chance. Both men played slowly. Mark Manning. His face flushed at his triumph, showed no emotion. The second game was played through in the same de- liberate manner, and was won by Lone Paleface. His face was as immovable as before, but Mark Man- ning’s paled slightly. Then for the first time Red Dove showed deep interest, and bent her head eagerly forward to watch the players. The third game was begun, played slowly through, and at last Lone Paleface cried exultantly, as he threw down a card: “Diamonds are trumps, and I win the heiress!” _ But just then a dark shadow fell upon them, and a ringing voice was heard: - “Hold! Pistols are trumps in this game of deviltry, and I play them!” ; A cry of horror burst from the lips of each man, as they beheld, standing upon the rock above them, his re- Ce covering their hearts, the tall form of Buffalo silt To describe the amazement of the two men, and also If you win I will guide you to the Over- games, to give to The first game was won by but Handsome Hugh BiLL STORIES. of Red Dove, at the sudden appearance of the scout upon the scene, would be utterly impossible. His coming, to Handsome Hugh, was even a greater surprise than to Mark Manning, for ‘he had little dreamea of the possible appearance of the scout in that locality, and at a moment so very inopportune to him. As for Manning, he was at first fearful of trouble, he was the next instant glad. He had often heard of the famous scout. He remem- bered what Old Whitehead said, that Buffalo Bill was the avowed friend of Red Dove. The Indian girl cried out in joy. It was a thrilling tableau certainly—the two men seated across the log, the cards between them, and hands half raised, as though to ward off the deadly bullets, while, standing upon the rock, both hands thrust forward, and each holding a revolver upon the gamblers, was Buffalo Bill. This, with Red Dove bound to a tree, and the in= different horses in the background, made up a picture of striking interest. For a moment only the tableau lasted, yet it seemed an age to Lone Paleface and Mark Manning. Then came, in clear, cutting words: “Which one shall I kill first, Red Dove?” “Let the great scout make that man prisoner first, and then the Red Dove will tell hit all,” she answered, mo- tioning her hand toward Lone Paleface. raid the other: “His claws are clipped, for the Lone Paleface had him in his power.” “Ah! you then are Lome Paleface, the Hermit of the Mountains?” said Buffalo Bill. “So men call me. And you are Buffalo Bill?’ was the cold, almost indifferent reply of Handsome Hugh, who had regained his nerve. ‘So xen call me,” other's words. »And you are h Louis, I believe?” said the lawyer. “Yes, my name is Manning,” “Well, I will deal with your case after a while. “Now, Lone Paleface, you.are my prisoner and if you have any desire to live, make no foolish effort to escape.” Springing down from the. rock, Buffalo Bill quickly disarmed the Lone Paleface. With some stout thongs he took from his hunting-shirt pocket, he securely bound the prisoner. Leaving him stcnding by the rock, Buffalo Bill walked toward the tree to which Red Dove was bound. He had nearly completed the task of releasing her, when a cry from Mark Manning attracted his attention. One glance was sufficient to show him that Lone Pale- face was gone. With the bounds of a tiger, Buffalo Bill reached the spot and sprang upon the tree, and then the rock. But nowhere was the prisoner to be seen. “I was watching you, sir, and forgot him for the mo- ment. When I looked again he was gone,” explained Mark Manning. Buffalo Bill ran to the top of the ridge, and gazed all around him; but the shadows of night were darkening the forest, and nowhere could he see the fugitive. | answered Buffalo Bul, repeating the Mr. Mark Manning, a lawyer from St. > the scout, turning his gaze upon THE BUPRALO BIEL STORIES. 19 He listened attentively ; but there came to his ears no sound ‘of running feet. “Tet him go, for we shall meet again,” he said, quietly, returning to the spot where he had left Red Dove and the lawyer. The Indian girl had in the meantime been freed by Mark Manning. The two were standing together talking when the scout returned. “The paleface stranger has released’ me, dian girl. “Yes; but what right had he to make you a prisoner?” was the stern question of the scout. ” said the In- CEHDAP TER OCuV AN EAVESDROPPER. When Handsome Hugh found himself in the power of Buffalo Bill, and remembered his conduct toward Red Dove, he knew that his life was in danger. Lone Paleface knew the locality. He had often en- camped in that very place. Suddenly he started, and his face flushed with hope, as an idea came to him. Darkness was already gathering. -If he could escape and conceal himself, night would befriend him. Lightly as a panther, he dragged himself behind a large rock that rose like a crag to the height of twenty feet. The sides were steep; with his hands bound behind him, he found that he had desperate hard work to scale it. But he clambered up, using his chin even to aid him in holding on, until he could get a better knee or foothold. It seemed ages almost to. him; yet he reached. the top within half a minute’s time, and shrank down in a fissure, just large enough to hide his body. He knew the: place, for he had once chased a bear up there and killed it. Hardly had he dropped down in the fissure, when his escape was discovered. He crouched close, as Buffalo Bill sprang upon the lesser rock; but he did not care, for he felt that he was safe. As night fell he hoped to escape. If he escaped, and succeeded in reaching a friendly camp, he would soon return and have things his own way. But this intention was thwarted by Buffalo Bill, who made a wicky-up for Red Dove on one side of the rock, and spread a blanket for himself and the lawyer upon the other. To attempt to escape, with stich good ears and eyes as Buffalo Bill’s and Red Dove’s within ten feet of him, Handsome Hugh knew was impossible. By and by Buffalo Bill and Mark Manning sat down for a talk together. The lawyer explained again why he had come into that wilderness. He gave his motives; and really made. out a good case for himself. He insisted that his intentions were of the best, and laid the blame for all things blamable upon Old White- head and the white renegade, by whom he had been badly advised. “You're a liar, ail right!” thought the white man who lay in hiding. It was evident that Buffalo Bill, good judge of faces and character as he was, was favorably impressed by the words and manner of the St. Louis lawyer. “T thank you,” said the scout, “for your explanation. It seems a manly one; and if the Red Dove says you have not been unkind to her, I will consider you as her friend.” He looked toward the Indian girl as he spoke, and she answered : “The stranger has treated the Red Dove kindly, though he wished to take her from her people. It was the Lone Paleface that was the cruel snake.” Buffalo Bill looked at the lawyer earnestly. “I am willing to tell you, Mr. Manning, that I saw your name on the register of the hotel in Poker City, and remembering it as the same that was attached to a letter to the Indian agent some months ago, making inquiry about Red Dove, and finding you had come to the qoun- tains under the guidance of Old Whitehead, a mysterious old hunter, I at once took your trail and followed you, “T trailed you here, and I heard, for I stood behNd that rock, much that ‘passed between you _and that ren- egade. “The Red Dove saved my life once, and as her friend I would not allow harm to befall her. “Now, I have a proposition to make to you. “Go. with us to the village of her father, Black Bear, and show us all your proofs of her good fortune. If you will do that, I assure you I will urge that she return with you to St. Louis and get her inheritance. “But I here swear to you, that if harm befall her there I will trail you to the ends of the earth, but what I avenge her. a2 _ There was no doubting that Buffalo Bill meant just what he said; but. Mark M anning met his gaze unflinch- ingly, and promised him that all should come around right in the end. Every word was heard by the listening renegade. “At the village,” said the scout, “we will lose no more time than is n eeded to convince Black Bear that it is best for the Dove to go.’ Other conversation passed between the ‘two, but the foregoing is what seemed to hold a charm for Lone Pale- face, for he breathed hard and quickly, as though deeply moved. Then the three camped for the night, intending the next morning to start for the village of Black Bear. With the early dawn, greatly to the relief of Lone Paleface, the party left the camp, Buffalo Bill leading his horse and carrying his arms. At this the man in hiding smiled grimly, for if he was dismoufted, weaponless and bound, “he had still his life, and that to him was everything. To free himself wholly of his bonds was the first thing, and this he began work on. During the night he had rubbed the rawhide and buck- skin thongs against the rock, as well as he could in his cramped position, and though he scratched the skin off of his hands, he also wore the tightly-tied knots at his wrists nearly in two. At last these yielded, and he was free. He could hardly suppress a cry of delight, but he did so. After partaking of the remnants of the meal left by the others, he started at a swinging trot through the forest, 20 {THE BUFFALO evidently having in view a-certain point of destination, and having determined a plan of action. “Buffalo Bill, you’ll find I am not dead yet, and woe be unto you if you cross my path, and I will see that you do,” he muttered as he ran along. CHAPTER XV. THE RETURN. Straight to the village of Black Bear Buffalo Bill went with Red Dove and Mark Manning. There the story of the girl’s capture and rescue was told, and it created an angry sensation. Of course, the lawyer was shielded in the matter, both by Buffalo Bill and Red Dove. His life would not have been secure if the whole truth had been known. By this time both the scout and the Indian girl had come to believe that the lawyer was acting honorably. So it came about that Mark Manning received a warm ‘welcome from Black Bear. The inheritance was talked over, and both Buffalo Bill and Mark Manning convinced the chief that it was best for Red Dove to go to St. Louis and get possession of her fortune, which, if she so willed, she could spend in the improvement of her people and their comfort. After some urging, Black Bear gave his consent, if Iron Eyes went with her; and this was willingly acqui- esced in by the lawyer. Iron Eyes, however, had not returned from his hunt, and they were compelled to await his arrival. At last he came. Then Black Bear himself, with a large force of warriors, escorted the party to the nearest point of the Overland road where they could catch a stage. The passengers bound east were somewhat alarmed at having the coach halted and beholding around it a large force of Indian warriors. They gave sighs of relief when they found their scalps were safe, and ‘cast sly glances at their new fellow pas- _ sengers, Red Dove and Tron Eyes and Mark Manning When. the stage had rolled on out of sight, Buffalo Bill bade farewell to Black Bear and his braves, and wended his way back to Poker City. It was growing late in the afternoon when he arrived, and the loafers had begun to assemble at the hoiel, and on the piazza, their favorite resort. Suddenly a man appeared from a doorway. It was Old Whitehead. In his hand was a revolver, with which he took a shot at Buffalo Bill, as the latter cantered up to the piazza. His hand was going up for a second shot, when the scout’s revolver spoke. Whitehead dropped back with a cry; but the next instant he bounded to his feet as if he were a rubber ball, and leaped to the back of a horse. His eyes were blazing wildly. “My God! I believe the man is insane!’ was the thought of the scout. Old Whitehead reined his horse around and looked at the scout with those burning eyes. ces, hes crazy!” The scout was right. Old Whitehead had lost his mind. BILL STORIES. Others saw that Whitehead was crazy. He had appeared suddenly, fired upon the scout: with- out apparent cause, and now seemed to be on the point of becoming a chattering maniac. One look into W hitehead’s face was sufficient to show all that his mind was gone. “Look out all! he’s mad!” The cry came from Gov. Dave, and helter-skelter went the crowd. f Again he lifted his revolver and fired at Buffalo Bill, then rode like the wind down the street. Shots were sent after him from the crowd, but none took effect; and he rode on. “After him, Buffalo Bill!” was shouted. “You're the only man who has grit enough to follow him.” “Then he must escape, for I am wounded and cannot follow him. Governor, give me a room and send for Dr. Medway.” And Buffalo Bill walked into the hotel, with no sign of emotion upon his face, as a trace of what he had just passed through, or that he was suffering. The surgeon came without delay, and “made a hasty ex- amination of the scout’s injuries, As he worked he talked: “That madman hit you both times. call. “This one in your side glanced on the rib, right over your heart, a close deal that—no, the bone is not hurt at all, and the mark of the bullet will soon heal up. See, it cut its way out through your clothing!” “This one on my left leg, doctor!” asked the scout. “Ah! that is a little dubious’ Ill probe for it—why, there it is.” “Thank you, doctor, so I am not hurt,” said Buffalo Bill, smiling. “A man with two bullet wot inds not hurt? “Well, you are game, Cody. To aman who bears the scars you do, [ suppose you are not much hurt, with these little fesh wounds, which will heal in a few weeks.” “Few weeks, doctor? Why, I have some work to do at once; so please dress them for me, and they'll not trouble me much.” The doctor did dress the wounds most skillfully, and Buffalo Bill, refusing to-see the crowd that were anxious to grasp his hand, lay down to rest, after sending for the landlord, with w hom he held a long conversation, You had a close CHAPTER XVI. THE FLIGHT OF THE MADMAN, How are we to account for the sudden insanity of the man known as Old Whitehead? ‘The explanation is simple. As has been shown, it was necessary for him to look up the man known as Handsome H ugh, in order that the st. Louis lawyer might be conducted into the Indian country. Old Whitehead and Handsome Hugh knew each other well. More than once ney had worked together in some piece of villainy. It Was to be so in this case, according to the calculations of Old Whitehead. But when Handsome Hugh understood the situation, and learned that there was a fortune in waiting for the aa was EN PERERA SP RRA ASEE Ones ried / ii eAR IES LAE BUPHALO Indian heiress, he conceived the design of getting pos- session of the girl himself, that he might by that means secure the fortune. As a result of some talk, and some sharp words, a_ fight was brought on between Whitehead and Handsome Hugh. Pistols -were used. When the fight was over Handsome Hugh departed, leaving Old Whitehead, as he believed, dead. But Whitehead was not dead. He had received a scalp wound, from which he quickly revived; but his mind had been unbalanced by it. In his insane imaginings he now conceived the idea that this wound had been given him by Buffalo Bill. Perhaps it was natural that he should believe this. He had feared the vengeance of Buffalo Bill; and that fear resting on him probably took this form, after his mind became unbalanced. Hence he hastened back to Poker City, and lying there in hiding he awaited the return of the scout; with the result. shown. To say that the people of Poker City were greatly excited, puts it mildly. They could talk of nothing else for hours. For a week Buffalo Bill lay in the hotel, slowly recov- ering from his wounds. One night, while. the winds were whistling through the streets and came moaning in great gusts from the mountains, and their chill breath had caused all who loved comfort to hug closely the huge fireplaces in their cabins, there was heard a series of wild, unearthly yells. Then came the clatter of hoofs, and down the main street, and coming from the mountain, dashed a horse- mat. ; The animal was at full speed. The rider sat high in his saddle, a revolver in each hand, and from his lips issued yell after yell that were demoniacal in their wild- ness. Closer to the firesides shrunk the timid, while bolder men sprung to the windows and doors, to see who it was, and what it meant. At first it was believed to be a raid by the Indians; but no, only one horseman was visible, and he was a white man. As he reached the’ sickly-looking lantern before the Ranchero’s Exchange, he began to fire his revolvers. Buffalo Bil, fully dressed and armed, rushed to the piazza. He saw the horseman riding away, and recognized him as Old Whitehead. Old Whitehead rode down the street like the wind. Only five minutes had he been in the town, yet he had left a trail of death. Dead men lay everywhere. _ “PIL strike his trail in the morning,” said the scout; and gave orders to have his horse ready. He knew, with that madman abroad, there could be no peace or safety for any one. The next morning at an early hour he had his break- fast, and, mounting Midnight, felt wholly himself once more, for his wounds had about healed. “It was too early for any of the idlers, even those in a hurry for their morning “bitters,” to be about. Down the deserted street he rode in the keen morning air, feeling ready for any encounter, while Midnight now BILL STORIES, ai seeemed anxious to fly, rather than canter, over the frozen ground. Arriving at the spot where the trails divided Buffalo Bill saw a light in a cabin nearby, and hailed. “Tullo! who are you?” came from within. “Did a horseman pass here last night, yelling, and fir- ing his revolvers?” “Waal, thar were suthin’ went by as tho’ ther devil were arter it, an’ we hes laid durned close ever since,” -was the answer. “Which trail did it go?” asked Wild Bill. “Ther one to ther right.” “Thank you;” and he was riding on, when a voice called out. 9 “Hain’t thet SNES “I thought it, fer yes hes a voice a man hears onst, he knows next time. What were thet thing as went by?” “Old Whitehead, the madman.” CONF 5% N oO. you, Buffalo Bill?” “Fact! he has broken loose with a vengeance in the town.” “Anybody hurted ?” “A few killed.” “No V2 i Viego: “An you are arter him ?” Vea “Better. not go.” a “I better go, so as to prevent, if I can, another visit from him to your town.” “Thet’s so, ye’d better go; but is yer well ag’in, Bill?” “Yess thank you.’ “Don't thank me, for its yer constifooshun ter thank, pard. We wishes yer luck, an’ ef yer thinks thet mad critter are comin’ back, we won’t detain yer.” With a light laugh Buffalo Bill rode on, and as it was retting light, he dismounted and examined the trail for tracks. Those of the madman’s horse he soon found, and not- ing them carefully, remounted and went on his way at a swift canter. . The trail of the madman, which was very plain after leaving the vicinity of the town, led him toward his own place of retreat, and went on by it. As is known to readers of these stories, Buffalo Bill had certain retreats in the vicinity of the forts and towns to which his work called him. This especial retreat was a ranch, which he owned, and which he called the Haunted Ranch. It contained a mine; and certain mysterious deaths connected with that mine had given tothe ranch its name. As the hour was now noon, the scout determined to stop for dinner, and then go on, for the trail was circling around toward the larger range of mountains. The cold wind had brought snow to these higher alti- tudes. The mountain tops were white with it, but he felt he would have little difficulty in traveling. In charge of the ranch was a man known as Boss ‘Bricktop. He was a border character whom Buffalo Bill had once thrashed severely and thereby gained his ever- lasting friendship. In addition, there were two young cowboys, whose duties consisted in looking after the cat- 22 THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. tle and ponies that pastured in the valleys, and on the plains nearby. _ The approach of the scout was observed by the men of the ranch. They hurried out to.meet him, and at once began to tall. “Waal, ef it hain’t good fer sore eyes ter see yer, pard, then string me up fer a Chinee. “T feerd yer hed tarned yer toes up ter ther daisies, an’ we were jist talkin’ about goin’ ter Poker City ter clean out ther whole durned town out of revenge. Wasn't we Samir The speaker was Boss Bricktop. The one he appealed to, with a little more regard for truth, was one of the two cowboys—wild, harum-scarum fellows that loved the life they led more than any other that could be offered them—and he replied: “We were going to Poker City, fer a fact, cap’n; but I don’t know about our cleanin’ out ther place, hed they tarned up yer toes thar. “But we'd ’a’ seen yer wasn’t forgot in ther revenge reck’nin’ I guess.” “Yas, them as hed called in yer chips, we wud hev spotted,” added Dick, the second cowboy. “T thank you, boys; but my chips haven't been called in yet,” said the scout. “Get us some dinner, Dick, and a good one, for I am as hungry as a etizzly; and you, Brick, tell me if you have seen any strange trails about here lately r” Buffalo Bill had entered the house and dropped down on a bearskin before the cheerful fire in the cabin. “Nary trail, but thar were suthin’ as went by this mornin’ ‘arly thet looked like a gerizzly b’ar on horse- back. “I tho’t a cirkiss hed bu’st loose at first. He kep’ straight on, an’ as 1 hedn’t lost any sich indervidooal, I jist let him go, tho’ I told Sam an’ Dick they mout hev him,” “Thankee, Sam an’ Dick hadn’t lost sich a animile nuther; an’ so on he went, pushin’ his horse like the devil were on him,” said Sam. “It was Old Whitehead, and I am on his trail,” said Bill; and he went on to tell of the occurrences in Poker City and elsewhere. After a rest of a couple of hours at the ranch, Buffalo Bill set out again. He rode this time a regular mountain horse, that could climb where a goat could. Once more striking the trail, he followed it at a rapid canter, while Bricktop and his companions stood in front of the cabin watching him as far as they could see him, and registering bets regarding the success of his under- taking. “I bets a hundred that he holds trumps clean through the game,” said Bricktop. His bet was taken by both cowboys, not from a doubt of Buffalo Bill’s lack of nerve, but because they were natural gamblers, and they took the chances, CHAPTER XVII. THE COMBAT IN THE CAVERN. To one who read all signs pertaining to wood and prairie craft, it was as plain as an open book to him that the horse of the madman had been driven too hard. The tracks swayed from side to side, and there were evidences of the animal having frequently stumbled. At last the trail went upon a solid rock foundation, from which every vestige of snow had been blown by the fierce winds, and no tracks were visible. Up the hillside, however, was a dark object that caught the eye of Buffalo Bill. Hastening toward it he discovered that it was the horse of Old Whitehead. His brave heart had broken at last, and the noble ani- mal lay dead on the trail, having fallen under the cruel driving of his mad rider. But nowhere visible was that rider, and the rock foun- dation’ gave no sign of. which course he had taken. Night was coming on, and with it a threatening storm, and Buffalo Bill was determined to find shelter. If the storm was very severe he would, the next morn- “ing, wend his way back to his ranch. If it was not severe, he would press on into the heart of the mountains after the object of his search. His horse he had perfect confidence in, in the severest strain, and he was anxious to continue on; .but he must camp for the night, he knew, and he went toward a dis- tant hill, where he expected to find some sheltered canyon. As he came near the hill he saw a canyon opening, and to his delight found a large cavern in the rocky cliff. It was now almost dark, and he lariated his pony out in the canyon, where he would get good grazing, and carried his saddle and wraps into the cave to make him- self comfortable. He gathered some wood and soon started a fire. Then, to his surprise, he saw that the cavern had had an occu- pant. A freshly killed bear-skin was in one corner, and there was a pile of logs, the embers of a fire, and quantities of game hanging up on the walls. “The home of Old Whitehead, as I. ive! plan in luck,” The discovery was one which most men would not have looked upon as a lucky one; but Buffalo Bill was of a caliber that dared every danger. With the utmost coolness he opened his haversack to eat his supper, made a cup of coffee, and having placed his revolver and knife by his side, where he could grasp them at a moment’s notice, began upon his meal. The light of the fire prevented his penetrating the dark- ness without, and he failed to see a form coming toward the cavern. It was the madman, and he carried upon his shoulders a deer which he had slain. His face had grown wild and haggard, his hair and beard unkempt, and his eyes deep sunken and savage. His hands, face and clothing were stained red with blood, and he was certainly a most awe-inspiring being. He stopped suddenly on detecting the firelight and glared with the ferocity of a savage beast into the cavern. But he could not see the sheltered form of Buffalo Bill. Down he threw his load, and drew a revolver. Then with a fiendish smile he replaced it, and jerked his long knife from his belt. He felt its edge and point with malicious delight, un- buckled his belt, threw aside his bear-skin coat and wolf- skin cap, and crept toward the cavern, ls ee 9S Fuss ya es Aas TN -~™ TH As rh rs = et beet pet AR OP — = THE BUFFALO Still Buffalo Bill ate on, uhéonscious of the approach of a very demon. : That the man was mad there was no doubt. The bullet of Handsome Hugh had plowed its way along the skull, and the shock had made him a maniac, though otherwise the wound would not have been dangerous. Nearing the fire he paused an instant. _ The crackling of the burning wood drowned his hoarse breathing. At last, as he crept close against the side of the wall, he spied Buffalo Bill calmly eating his supper. Mad though he was he knew the man. With the bound of a panther, and a shriek such as a lost one might give utterance to when hurled into per- dition, he sprung clear over the fire and upon the in- vader of his retreat. His great weight and the force of his mighty spring carried him right upon Buffalo Bill, who was knocked over by the blow. It carried him beyond the weapons he had so cautiously laid by his side for ready use, atid he could only grasp the savage hand that held the knife. Though wholly taken by surprise, Buffalo Bill’s superb pluck and iron nerve did not for a second desert him. He got a grip on the wrist of the madman, which the other could not shake off, and almost at the same instant drove his steely fist full into the savage face. But the blow did not seem to hurt the madman, and with his disengaged hand he attempted to return it. Buffalo Bill met him well, and warded off every stroke, _as he was scienced in the pugilistic art. Finding that his own blows, fearful as they were, made no impression upon the madman, Buffalo Bill determined to get a clutch upon his throat. : The madman seemed to act, not from his own idéas, but those of his foes, and at once, the example being set him, he tried to grip the throat of the scout. In the effort of each to escape the clutch of the other the two men rolled over and over upon the rocky foor- ing of the cavern. The strength of Old Whitehead was great, and mmad- ness: but added to it; but Buffalo Bill was equally as strong, and his form was more agile, and his movements as quick as lightning. Over and over the cavern floor they fought, neither seeming to gain an advantage, other than a savage blow that Buffalo Bill now and then got in, full in the face of his mad antagonist. : Once the madman seemed to hold the advantagé; for, in the roll across the cavern, they stopped against the rocky wall, with the madman on top. A shout of triumph burst from his lips; but it was short lived, for with a lightning movement, and mighty effort, Buffalo Bill managed to seize the bushy hair of his enerny in his teeth, and close to the left side of his head. The hair was too heavy and thick to give, even under the savage jerks the madman gave to tear it out by the roots. The example having been set him of using his teeth, he endeavored to fasten his teeth in the shoulder of Buf- falo Bill, who, realizing that a bite from him would prove as terrible as from a rabid dog, exerted an almost super- BILL STORIES. 23 huthan strensth to master him, and prevent his accom- plishing his purpose. The knife the madman still etasped in his hand, but the wrist was as though in a vise, and he had no power to use it. Buffalo Bill, feeling that the end must soon come, for even he could not keep up that killing worl much longer, watched his chance, and suddenly twisting the madman’s wrist, he put forth his entire strength, and, having already braced one foot against the cavern wall, made a sudden turn. Instantly the position of the two men was reversed, and Buffalo Bill felt the stip of the madman relax. The effort had rolled him again underneath the mad- man; but he quickly threw him off, and staggered to his feet, The firelight revealed Old Whitehead, savage in death; his hand still grasping the hilt of his own knife, which the sudden turn of Buffalo Bill had caused to pierce his heart, It was a ghastly, sickening sight; and the scout ttrned away and walked toward the mouth of the cavern to cool his heated blood, and rest after the terrible struggle he had gone through. Buffalo Bill’s wounds had re-opened in the terrible struggle, and were bleeding freely. He knew he must have help. Dressing his wounds as well as he could tindet the cir- cumstances, he motinted his hardy mustang, and started on the back trail. It was after niidghight when the dogs warned Brick- top that somebody was without, and the next instant there came thé well-known hail of the scout. Upen examination, the wotind in Buffalo Bill’s sidé, which had reopened, had an ugly look, and he determined to at ofice contintie on to Poker City arid place himself under the care of Dt. Medway. “Thet are ther ticket, cap’n, fer thet bonesawér kin cut ther leg o’ a corpse off an’ not hurt it, an’ he’ll fetch yer round all tight with his pills an’ plasters. “But dont let him use his knife an’ saws oft yet, or he'll cut yer all up ter sée jist how mitich ’twill take ter kill yer,” advised Bricktop. “You go with me, Sam,” said Buffalo Bill; and added : : “TH ride Midnight.” “Right are yer, cap’n, fer he are as sweet a goer as rockin’ in a char my old granny ust ter hev, an’ lick me when she cotched me in it, too. “Sam’ll go with you, an’ me an’ Dick will go back to ther cavern with a horse an’ pack ther madman inter Poker City; an’ ef ther hull town don’t git drunk over ther fun o’ buryin’ him, then I are a weepin’ hypercrit,” Ten minutes after Buffalo Bill and cowboy Sam started for Poker City, and Bricktop and Dick, under the direc- tion of the scout, departed for the body of the madman. It was late in the morning when Buffalo. Bill and the cowboy rode into the mining town. The scotit was as white as a ghost, and very weak, for he had been steadily bleeding all the way. To the cheers that greeted him he had not the streneth to raise his sombrero. Cowboy Sam explained this lack df courtesy on the part of the scout by saying continually: I aE BS Aa ae i I ey Oa 24 THE BUFFALO “Ther cap’n hev had ther devil o’ a carouse, pards, an’ he needs ther pill-stuffer’s "tention immegit.” Arriving at the Ranchero’s Exchange Buffalo Bill was taken from his horse and carried to his room, and Dr. Medway was promptly on hand, and soon had him as comfortable as was possible. At nightfall a strange cavalcade came in sight, com- ing up the street toward the Ranchero’s Exchange; and, all along the crowd that followed it was gaining percep- tibly. The cavalcade consisted of but three horses and three riders; but the third hung across his horse, and was dead. It was Boss Bricktop, cowboy Dick, and the body of Old Whitehead. The two escorts seemed to feel their importance as much as though they had been instrumental in bringing the life of the madman to a close. The news had already been diligently circulated by cow- boy Sam, who was invited to drink every time he told the story of the killing of the madman by Buffalo Bill. « To “take something” was the main reason why Brick- top had come fo Poker City, he well knowing that as the bearer of the body of the madman, who had terrorized the place, he would be treated by every one in town, down to the Chinese waiters in the Ranchero’s Exchange. Once at the bar, Bricktop seemed to become a fixture. Over and over again he told the story of the fight in the cavern, as new arrivals entered. Each time he dilated Sao) -upon it, and “took suthin’,” until he at’last made himself the hero of the combat; and, too drunk themselves to know the difference, his auditors cheered him as a hero. In another part of the spacious saloon the cowboys, Sam and Dick, were giving their version of what they had not seen, and about which Buffalo Bill had said but little; and, as they were also treated with the regularity of a running’ clock, they too got jubilant, and ere mid- night Poker City was a scene of the wildest orgies. In the midst of these the madman was buried by torch- light, and cheers for Buffalo Bill made the hours hideous until dawn; when, with aching heads, Bricktop and his two brother herders started on their return to the Haunted Ranch, not knowing whose heads they had on their shoulders, and as limber, as though every bene in their bodies was broken. CHAPTER XVILT. AN APPEAL BY LETTER. Buffalo Bill was again confined to his bed. Having caught cold in his wounds it was a long time before he was able to sit up. — Once he did get better his convalescence was rapid, and the doctor, who had been most attentive to him, said that when he regained his strength, he would be even better as a man than he was before. But, as week after week went by, and he was still con- fined to his room in the Exchange Ranchero, he grew terribly impatient, for his thoughts were constantly wan- dering to the mountains. For amusement, and at the same time to keep in prac- tice, when he got better, Buffalo Bill had a target put up in his room, and was wont to spend hours in shooting with his revolvers at the smallest possible objects. PILL STORIES. Then he would throw his bowie-knife until he could send the point just where he aimed; and afterward prac- ticed with a bow and arrow. At last he was able to leave his room. When he entered the dining-hall of the Exchange, lean- ing on the doctor’s arm, there was a burst of applause that made the dishes rattle, and sent the Chinese waiters, who did not observe the cause, flying to the kitchen in terror. From that day Buffalo Bill’s recovery was rapid, and he soon was able to mount. Midnight, and go down the valley for a few miles’ run. ‘“T’m myself again, Governor, and to-morrow I start for the mountains,” said Buffalo Bill one day. As he spoke, the stage horn was heard. He went to the door, and the next instant up dashed the stage-coach from the East, with Andy Rush on the box. The mail was at once distributed around, and there was one letter for Buffalo Bill. It was addressed:in a neat, feminine hand. The handwriting Buffalo Bill did not recognize; but, breaking the seal, he read: “Come to me. I need you. Rep Dove.” “Governor, there comes the east-bound stage, so hold it until I am ready, for I go in it,” he said quickly. “Where do you go, Bill?” asked the curious landlord. “Tf I tell you, you will know as much as I do,” was the smiling answer. Buffalo Bill then walked off in the direction of Sloan’s store. “Sloan, give me two thousand dollars of my money,” he said. “All right, Bill,’ and the money was counted out to him. Ten minutes after Buffalo Bill was on the box of the Eastern-bound stage. What was the meaning of Red Dove’s appeal—why had it been sent? To say that both Red Dove and Iron Eyes had not been pleased with their experiences, as they traveled east- ward, would not be true, for they were delightd, and Mark Manning did all in his power for their comfort and enjoyment, and wholly won the confidence of the pretty Indian Heiressiand her half brother. As they reached the larger cities they were amazed at the greatness of the palefaces, and were quite awed when at last they arrived in St. Louis. It was night when they set foot in the city. Procur- ing an open carriage Mark Manning drove them through the brightly lighted town on their way to their destina- tion. After a long drive the vehicle drew up at the very cottage on the banks of the Mississippi, where nearly a year before Captain Loring had been assassinated. The same old man and woman were there, and wel- comed the young lawyer and his Indian companions, who were shown to their respective rooms, after enjoying a good supper. Several, days were then allowed to Red Dove and Iron Eyes to rest and look about them, while Mark Manning passed his time up in the city, tes ti THE BUFFALO Then he said all arrangements were ready for the trans- fer of the young girl’s property to her keeping. Btit here came in an act of the young lawyer, which first brought suspicion upon him on the part of Red Dove, That was when, one evening, he brought two com- panions out from the city with him, and urged that she should sign certain papers. This she would have done, had it not been for the In- dian cunning of Iron Eyes, who at once said: “The Red Dove must know what it is that she puts her name to.”’ at tone. Taking the cue from her brother, Red Dove insisted upon reading the documents she was told to put her sig- nature to. They were withheld from: her, Mark Man- ning remarking: . “Oh! it'4s a matter of no importance, Red Dove. Any other time will do. Then Pll read the papers to you and explain them fully.” : “Let the Red Dove keep the papers,” said Iron Eyes. His suggestion brought forth another anathema upon his head, and the remark: “That Injun had better study law, for he’d be a good one” But the papers were not left with the young girl. Shortly after the two visitors leit the cottage, but stood for a long time out by the carriage talking with Mark Manning. Thus some weeks passed away. Mark Manning seemed more kind than ever, heaping upon both Red Dove and Iron Eyes costly presents, taking them to the city to see the sights, and buying for them a boat to row upon the river in, and horses to ride over the surrounding country on, amusements they seemed to take the greatest pleas- ure in. When he thought the remembrance of the doubt which he saw they had felt for him had passed away, Mark Manning again brought the papers out and quietly asked Red Dove to sign them, as they sat at the table one even- ing after supper. Again she would have complied, when Iron Eyes asked : “Are they the same papers the Book Chief wanted the Red Dove to put her name on before?’ “Yes, and it is a mere matteriof-ftorm, which I can explain to the Red Dove.” “No; the papers are not the same, for the Iron Eyes does not see crooked,” said the young Indian warrior. “Does the Iron Eyes doubt the Book Chief?” asked Mark Manning, biting his lip. “The Iron Eyes knows a straight tongue when he hears it talk, and the Red Dove will not do as the Book ‘Chief says.” “Am I not the guardian of the Red Dove, and must she not do as I-say?” angrily asked the lawyer. “When the Red Dove has seen eighteen summers go by, then she can write her name to the Book Chiet’s papers, but not before, for it is not right.” “The Iron Eyes is wrong.” “The Red Dove will do as the Iron Eyes tells her.” | With something strangely like muttered profanity that Injun,” said one of the visitors in a low BILL STORIES. z5 Mark Manning arose from the table and said no more upon the subject. The next day the Iron. Eyes went out to the river to fish, while Red Dove mounted her horse for a gallop. When she returned she was met by Mark Manning, who told her that he had sent Iron Eyes to the Indian ‘country after her friend, Buffalo Bill, The young girl seemed very sorry that she had not seen her brother before his departure, and glad that Buf- falo Bill was coming; but the lawyer explained that a wagon train had left that day for the vicinity of Poker City, and the chance to have Iron Eyes go with it was too good to be lost. With this Red Dove seemed satisfied, and had only to count the long days until the return of Iron Eyes and Buffago Bill. Xt CHAPTER XIX. A DOVE IN A TRAP, After the departure of Iron Eyes Mark Manning seemed to redouble his kindnesses to Red Dove, and tried every way in his power to obliterate any mistrust she had entertained to him. He took her riding and driving with him, rowed with her upon the river, taught her from books which she fan- cied, bestowed innumerable presents upon her; and then was chagrined to have her say: “Buffalo Bill will be pleased to. find his red sister knows so much, and that she has such pretty presents.” One night the same two men who had before visited the cottage came down from the city with the lawyer; and by persuading her, Mark Manning got Red Dove to sign her names—for she bore her mother’s name of Louisa Loring, and the one the Indians had given her— to the papers Iron Eyes had prevented her signing on the two former occasions. Red Dove could hardly believe that if Buffalo Bill trusted the lawyer he could have a wicked heart and crooked tongue; and, as Manning told her that Buffalo Bill would be pleased with what she had done, she seized the pen and wrote her names firmly in her pretty, femi- nine style of penmanship. “Now, my sweet girl,” said the smooth-faced one of the two visitors, “stand there by Mr. Manning’s side, and repeat after me what I say.” Red Dove did as directed having seen and heard Mark Manning go through the same form. Until the last fateful words were spoken, so glibly did the man twist his sentences, she had no idea of what she was doing. Those fateful words were, spoken in loud, distinct tones: “| pronounce you man and wife; and those whom God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.” Poor, innocent girl, she had been inveigled into a mar- riage with Mark Manning, having just signed the papers. Starting back from his side, she stood terrified at what she had done. A. few more weeks and she would be eighteen; when, by the terms of the will, she was her own mistress and her property was her own. But should she marry before that time, she would be 1} iy Wy iy 9 id 4 SE Tees Eee SS ES 26 the slave of her husband, as it were, and he would con- trol her fortune. : This much of the will she knew, and she now saw through the trap the lawyer had set to catch her. Guileless Indian girl that she was, she had walked into the snare—the trigger had been sprung. She was the wife ‘of a man she now hated in the inmost depths of her heart; and for Red Dove to hate was to make her revenge eful toward the one she hated, for in that particular her Indian blood exerted itself thoroughly. If Mark Manning,. Attorney-at-Law, congratulated himself upon his strategy in getting Red Dove into his power, and inveigline her into a marriage with him which gave him control of her fortune, he was not long in finding out that he had entrapped one who could not be easily tamed. Calm, defiant, she remained toward him day after day, and seemed only to live with the hope that ere long Buffalo Bill and Iron Eyes must come; for, in his story regarding her half-brother, she had confidence. At first Mark Manning feared that the young girl wotld try to escape from him, and make her way back to her people. Uherefore, he had her steps py dogged, and well for her was it, that she did not make the atten npt. One day she was seated on the small piazza of the cottage, brooding, as was her custom of late. Suddenly she caught sight of a skiff floating down the river, and in it was a small child. Instantly she ran down to the shore, sprang into her own boat, and rowed swiftly toward the little skiff, com- ing rapidly down with the current. Presently she heard a cry in a childish voice, and a splash, and glancing around, she saw that the little one had fallen into the river. With renewed energy she pull ed at the oars, and a moment after seized the child by the frock and drew it into the boat. It was unconscious. Pulling back to the put it in her own bed, and soon revived it. She knew the child; and was thinking of rowing it back to the cabin home of its parents upon the river bank, half a mile above the cottage, when the half-distracted father rushed into the house, for some one riding along the other shore had seen the rescue and told the poor man of it. He was deeply moved; and after pressing the chil gain and again to his he cart, he said: “You may be a Injun, miss, but you are a true leddy, and your heart is in the right place. “Row up to the cabin with us, miss, that my old ’oo- man may thank you; and, besides, | have something to tell you.” Red Dove consented to go with them and bring the boat back. Then she heard a gone back home. ne was while the man was pulling slowly up against ream that she heard that Iron Eyes had not gone to Vay eat / cottage, she startling story—Iron Eyes had not muss; your brother went to the Happy Hunting - xuncs instead, if that is what you Injuns calls Heaven. 4 was a-sitting on a log in the bayou fishin’ and seen THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. him coming up in i canoe he made for himself out of bark. : “Suddenly I heard a rifle crack, and the young TInjun boy fell forward in his canoe, and the paddle dropped from his hand. “T was that scared I couldn’t move or cry out, but I saw who it was that shot him, for he came rowing up in this very boat, miss. “He caught the canoe, a dragging the young Injun into his boat, tied some old pieces of iron to his body and threw him overboard. “Down he sunk forever, and the man rowed back, tak- ing the canoe with hir ST seen it all, miss, At first [ thought Vd tell; but then I wanted some money very bad, to pay off the mort- gage on my little farm, and I determined to get it. So I went up to the city the next day and told the man what IT seen him do; and I got the money, one thousand dol- lars; and I paid off < all on the place, and have got some lett. “But you saved my child, miss, and I’m your friend; so I tells you now, your brother has gone further away than to the West, and it ‘Il take Gabriel’s trumpet to call him back.” Not a word did Red Dove sa story, and not a movement of fe tion she felt, But when a low tone: ‘Who. was the man that killed the Iron Eyes?” “Tt was Lawyer Mark Manning!” Still no word from Red Dove’s lips, and the man seemed to feel, from her manner, that he had been mis- taken in saying her heart was in the right place. 7 to interrupt the man’s er face showed the emo- he had finished his confession, she asked in GHADPT ERUXX, A DOVE WITH EAGLES TALONS. “T thought my sweet bird of the forest would come around in the end,” said Mark Manning to himself on the day of ‘Red Dove’s rescue of the ‘little child from drowning. He had returned home from the city, considerably fa- tigued over his day’s work, and to his great surprise had been welcomed with a smile from Red Dove. “Youseem happy, Red Dove,” he said, pleasantly. “The Red Dove is happy,’ was the smiling reply. Then she got his slippers for him, pouee “out his cup of coffee, and completely enraptured the lawyer with her Sweet ways. “What makes my red bird:so happy to-night?” the lawyer. “Oh! she knows it is ’most time for the Iron Eyes to return with the great white chief, Buffalo Bill.” “Yes, they should soon be here,” he said quietly; then added: “Would the Red Dove like to return to her people?” “She will return with the Iron Eyes and Buffalo Bill.” “But suppose they should not be able to come, would she not like to return?” “Ves 22. “When would she like to go?” “When will the Iron Eyes, retain cy at asked and THE BUFFALO “It is not certain. I saw a gold digger from Poker City to-day, and he says the people of the Red Bird are at war with their old foes, and that Buffalo Bill is a chief under the Black Bear.” “Then the Iron Eyes will not come back now, or Buf- falo Bill either ?” “90.1 think,” “What will the Red Dove do?” “Return to her people.” “And the chief ?” “Oh! I will remain here fot a while and attend to some business for the Red Dove, and then join her at the village of the Black Bear.” “Will the Red Dove go alone?’ “Oh, no! I have some friends who will take her.” “When shall she go?” “In one week.” “The Red Dove will be ready.” At this Mark Manning seemed delighted, and the next day he seemed to have a light heart, as he drove ay ray to the city. Hardly had he been gone two hours when the man who had told Red Dove the fate of Iron Eyes, came to the cottage, and poured into her ears a story of a plot Mark Manning had formed to get rid of her. he was to start for the West, apparently, under his, the narrator’s care, and he was to kill her, and, returning with proof of her death, was to receive a large sum in gold. Ihe Red Dove smiled sweetly at the news, as though it really pleased her; and the man took -his departure, wondering more than ever at the strange Indian girl, who did not seem to feel her brother’s death jand appeared pleased when told she was to be put out of the way. But the depth of that Indian’s girl’s heart was too deep to be seen by a white man’s eye, and with her smiling face Red Dove went on with her plot for revenge. Again Mark Manning came to his cottage home, and again he was welcomed with a smile, and his coffee was poured out for him by most willing hands. But, hardly had he drank the cup’s contents when he turned deadly pale and attempted to rise to his feet. “Great God! Dove, send for a doctor, for I am very ill,” he cried in pleading tones. Straight before him she came, and looking him straight in the face, she said in calm, distinct tones: “You are dying, for the Red Dove has given you poison. “You killed the Iron Eyes, wronged her, and would have had her murdered, but she kills you instead. “The Iron Eyes and the Red Dove are avenged.” He tried to speak, but could not; and with a groan his head fell upon the table. Another moment and he was dead. But there was one who had seen>and heard all, and that was the old woman, the housekeeper of the cottage. Instantly she gave the alarm; and soon the hounds of the law were upon the trail of the Indian girl, who had sought safety in flight; and she was taken, carried to St. Louis, and thrown into prison as ‘a murderess. Then it was that she wrote to Buffalo Bill the plead- ing lines: “Come to me! I need you.” BILL STORIES, 27 CTLAP THR xy BUFFALO BILL PLAYS ANOTHER TRUMP. “Pard, I are a stranger in town, tryin’ ter see ther sights, an’ ther Gov’ner o’ this heur cage hev give me permit ter see ther animiles in ther misery; fer out my way, we hangs folks, an’ saves ther expense o’ tryin’ ’em, which are considerable, as. yer mout know.” The speaker was the thorough type of a prairie-man, and was in St. Louis seeing the sights, as he said. Fle looked wild, as though he might make a good fight with a grizzly in a rough-and-tumble, and that alone com- manded a certain amount of respect for him, which was enhanced by a huge gold chain, an elegant watch, dia- mond studs, sleeve-buttons, and an immense solitaire ring. Certainly, sir, I will be glad to show you round the jail,” replied the jailer, whom he addressed. Yer sha’nt regret it, pard. Heur are a gold twenty, as a keepsake from Rocky Mountain Rob, who don’t knuckle to no man; and thar are more dust whar that comed from. “Jist show me round, an’ let me stir up ther animiles ter make ‘em growl a leetle ter keep ther teeth from Tustin’; an’ then, as it are my grub time, go over an’ chaw wittals with me at ther hash house whar I locates.” The jailer was pleased with his new acquaintance, and readily accepted the invitation, and at once led him through the jail. : “Yer calls this a stout jail heur, I guesses; waal, out my way it ’u’dn’t hold a ten-year-old corpse, ef it wanted ter levant; but then ther great immortal border kentry hain’t like this town, no more’n ther people is. “Why, pard, yer sh’u’d come out my way an’ dig gold. “I has plenty o’ rocks, an’ more a-diggin’, an’ I'll see that yer gets a fortin, ef you says go. “Lordy! but hain’t that gal badly tanned fer a pale- face?” “That is not a paleface, sir, but an Indian girl who murdered one of otr lawyers some time ago.” “Kilt a liar, did she; waal, any man as will lie delib- erate fer nuthin’ will steal, an’ a feller as does both, will murder ef he hain’t skeert to do so, an’ I guess she sarved him right.” “Ah no, sir; he was very good to her. She poisonéd him to marry somebody else,” exclaimed the jailer. “Ah! I sh’u’d think marryin’ one man were enough; but thar are diffrent tastes yer know, pard. “Now what are her name?” Red Dove’ “Waal, she are red; but I don’t see ther dove, ef she were in ther p’izen bizziness. “Is they goin’ ter hang her?” “I guess so, for she will be found guilty at her trial, and she has no friends.” “Then they ll hist her sart’in. “Waal, I hev seen all I wants ter see,’so come along, pard, an’ we'll chaw wittals.” The strange paririe-man left the jail, accompanied by the jailer, and they had dinner together, the result of which was the following notice taken from a morning paper the second.day after the vsit of Rocky Mountain 28 THE BUFFALO Rob to the jail to “stir up ther animiles,’ as he ex- pressed it. It read: “AN ESCAPE FROM JAIL! “A well-laid plot! “Rocky Mountain Roz’s Ruse! “The Indian Murderess Escapes! “No Clew to the Whereabouts of the Fugitives! ‘We are sorry to make known to our readers that a most daring and well-planned escape was made from the jail last night. “The one who escaped was none other than the Indian girl known as Red Dove, who, it will be remembered, poisoned our lamented and highly-esteemed fellow-citt- zen, Mark Manning, Esquire, one of the most brilliant young lawyers of our country. “Tt seems the jail was visited day before yesterday by a queer character from the West, so he said, and now known to be an accomplice of the girl. “He called himself Rocky Mountain Rob, talked in the border dialect, was brilliant with diamonds, and spread his gold around so freely that he gained the confidence f a deputy, who was acting in the absence of the regular ailer; and the two had dinner together, the result of hich was that the Indian murderess was secretly taken rom the jail after midnight, and the three departed to- vether for parts unknown. “The deputy, to his credit be it said, released no other prisoners, but the one he was paid for. Rousing a turn- key, the deputy told him he was seriously ill and was going to see a doctor, and for him to take care of the jail. “Whether he saw the doctor, and is feeling better, he has not returned to make known. “The detectives are scouring the country for the fugi- tives, but not the slightest clew to the route of their de- parture can be discovered. “The earliest news we can learn regarding them will be promptly given our readers in an extra.” ° wet Cae si YQ =e ¢ But that extra was not issued, as the three fugitives were so thoroughly disguised that they left St. Louis in ‘ c i 2 v S- i z uy broad daylight, and wended their way undetected toward 4.4 - the land of the setting sun. i 4 CHAPTER: XXL CONCLUSION. Far out in the Indian country, on a trail leading to the village of the Black Bear, Buffalo Bill, the noted scout, met a little cavalcade, in whose midst rode Red Dove and the borderman who had risked his life to release her from that prison in St. Louis. “Glad to see you, Red Dove!” said the scout, riding up and greeting the Indian girl warmly. “And you, too!” he added, turning to the borderman. “Pard Bill,” said the latter, lifting his hat to the scout, “when you told me that ar’ story, and all about the Red Dove, and the fix she war in, you knowed of course what I would do.” “T must. have known,” Buffalo Bul admitted, with a smile. “And I see you did it. You succeeded!” Pil, STORIES, “Tt war a case of have to, pard. You see, bein’ that you are a government officer, as ye miay Say, and tharfore can’t rightly do anything that looks the least bit like vio- latin’ of law, you couldn’t go and do ther thing yerself, howsoever yer might want ter; and I know that yer wanted ter, from the way yer talked. “Well, I went in yer stead, as ye may Say, after you had news showin’ that this gal were goin’ ter be hung sure as shootin.’ I jes’ pulled the wool over a few _fellers, and with a plenty of them dollars you give me I hired the jailer to leave the jail door open a little speck. “Then I got her out; and you may bet we didn’t stay round there very long. And heur we air, an ’m your friend forever.” “Snowshoe Ben,” said the scout, taking the man again by the hand, while his voice trembled slightly. “You are a man to tie to in an emergency. As you say, there are some things I couldn’t do, because I am a soldier and a government scout. But I knew that you were a life-long friend of Black Bear and of his daughter; and I knew, too, that you didn’t fear the face of any man living. I told you how things were—you did the rest. Red Dove has thanked you many, many times, I am sure.” Red Dove, whose eyes were shining with gratification and thankfulness, was about to speak, re-expressing her thanks to the old borderman, and likewise thanking the scout, when the latter said: “Rut we must not talk. We've got work to do. Not a mile from here, as I discovered, there is a band of des- perate men under the lead of Handsome Hugh. They are laying for your party. Handsome Hugh intends to get the Red Dove in his power. It must not be per- mitted.” The reader may be stire it was not permitted. The desperadoes under the leadership of Handsome Hugh were surprised and routed by the little band led by Buffalo Bill and Snowshoe Ben. In the fight Handsome Hugh went down, with a rifle bullet in his brain. Then Red Dove was permitted to continue unmolested on her way to the home of her father. Some time afterward, through the efforts of Buffalo Bill and those of prominent men whose influence he was able to enlist, the fortune left by the Indian girl’s grand- father was so secured. that she could have the use of it. And use it she did, to the great benefit of the Indians who acknowledge the rule of Black Bear. he sw THE END. Next week’s issue, No. 133, will contain ‘“Buffalo Bill and Old Buckskin; or, Hugh Harcourt, the Man of Mys- tery.” The many and baffling changes in appearance ‘made by the Man of Mystery give to this story unusual interest, even though his schemes are aimed against a beautiful girl and her helpless father. How the daring scout, Buffalo Bill, reseues this girl and her father from the traps and perils with which they are surrounded, and defeats their clever enemy, every reader of these stories will want to know. : EA en ee nN ee earn eee re tomes CONTAINING THE MOST UNIQUE AND FASCINATING TALES OF WESTERN ROMANCE ee Daa Dick’s Devil Express; or, Running the Midnight Mail. 337—Diamond Dick Buried Alive; or, Record Time Down Wolf Mountain, 338—Diamond Dick’s Triangle Duel; or, Corralling the Cattle Crooks. 339—-Diamond Dick’s Race for Gold; or, The Lost Treasure Box. 340—Diamond Dick Missing; or, The Veteran’s Unknown Pard. ~~ i 341—Diamond Dick’s Trip East: or, Turning the Tables on the City Sharps. 342—Diamond Dick’s Summer Resort; or, High Old Times at the Sea Shore. 343—Diamond Dick’s “Give-and- Take’: or, Caught in the Undertow. 344—Diamond Dick’s “White Ghost”; or, Run Down by Auto. 345 iamond Dick at the Circus; or, An Old Friend in a New Game. 346—Diamond Dick at Coney Lad: or, A Wartn Proposition Played to a Finish. 347—Diamond Dick’s Skiplap Pard; or, The Cheerful Waif’s Big Winning. 348—Diamond Dick's Stand-Off; or, The Shotgun Messenger’s Last Trip. 349—Diamond Dick at Fort Piegan; or, Calling an Army Bluff. 350—Diamond Dick’s Makeshift; or, The New Boss at Hold-Over, 351—Diamond Dick’s Golden Spike; or, Bucking the Track Layers. : 352—Diamond Dick’s Schedule; or, The First Train to Dangerfield. | | 353—Diamond Dick’s Wild West; or, A Fair Field and No Favor. 354—Diamond, Dick’s Double-Bill; or, A Hot Turn Between Acts. 355—Diamond Dick’s Farewell Performance; or, A Warm Go for the Gate Money. 350—Diamond Dick's Dago Dupes; or, The Bowery Boy and the “Has-Been.” 357—Diamond Dick’s Phantom Hand; or, The Mystery of the “Fly-by-night.” — 358—Diamond Dick’s World-Beater; or, The Race for the Hurricane Handicap. 359—Diamond Dick’s Boy Pards; or, The Boarding House Puzzle. 360—Diamond Dick and the Safe-Crackers; or, Two-Spot’s Level Best. 361—Diamond Dick’s Last Call; or, Run Down on the Ferry. 362—Diamond Dick’s Four-Hands-Round; or, A Game of Keeps in the Catskills. 363—Diamond Dick’s Line-Up; or, The Youre Sport’s Banner Play. 364—Diamond Dick’s Web-Foot Pard; or, Queer Work on the Hurricane Deck. ' 365—Diamond Dick’s Run to Denver; or, Old Sixty’s Last Mix-Up. ; 366—Diamond Dick Among the Buchlos: ot, A Bold Play for a Big Stake. 367—Diamond Dick’s Dark Chase; or, Captured by Flash-Light. 308—Diamond Dick on the Bar-X Range; or, Captain Fan and the Rustlers. | 369—Diamond Dick as a Deputy Sheriff; or, Fighting the Mob at Piute. 370—Diamond Dick’s Pair of Winners; or, Two-Spot and Nixey’s Double-Play. cigar eee “ All of the above numbers always on hand. If you cannot get them from your newsdealer, five cents a copy will bring them to you by mail, postpaid. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 238 William Street, New York. | Contains Stories of YOUNG BROADBRIM, the famous Boy Detective, and OLD BROADBRIM, the Great Quaker. | 28—Old Broadbrim Playing a Master Stroke; or, The Mystery of Pier No. 4. 29—Old Broadbrim Foiling a Fiend; or, Game from Start to Finish. 30—Old Broadbrim on a Hot Chase; or, The Bicycle Highwayman of Coney Island. 31—Old Broadbrim Setting a Smart Trap; or, Marked with a Double Cross. 32—Old Broadbrim Into the Heart of Australia; or, A Strange Bargain and Its Conse- quences. 33—Old Broadbrim Doomed by an Invisible Hand; or, The Victims of the Vial of Death. 34—Old Broadbrim in the Jaws of a Tigress; or, Fighting Against Fearful Odds. 3s—Old Broadbrim Trumping the Trick; or, The Strange Disappearance from a Wagner Car. | : 36—Old Broadbrim In and Out of the Toils; or, The Pursuit of Red McMahon and His Gang. : 37—Old Broadbrim in the Eleventh Hour; or, The Mystery of the Headless Man. 38—Old Broadbrim Following Up a Golden Clew; or, The Extraordinary Happenings at Babbington Manor. 39—Old Broadbrim Dealing the Death Cards; or, The Doom of the Scarlet Stranglers. 40—Old Broadbrim Balking a Deep-Laid Plot; or, Geraldine Joslyn's Remarkable Double. 41—Old Broadbrim Tracking the Dead; or, The Hidden Battery of Doom. 42—Old Broadbrim Always on Hand; or, The Target of an Infamous Band. 43—-Old Broadbrim in a Fight for Millions; or, The Daring Impersonation at Stonelow Grange.) . oe 44—Old Broadbrim at Close Quarters; or, The Puzzle of the Blue Silk Cord. 4s—Old Broadbrim Under Crime’s Thumb; or, In The Confines of the Dread Circle. 46—Old Broadbrim Leagued with Nick Carter; or, The Biggest Case of Phen) Lives: 47—Old Broadbrim’s Clew from the Dead; or, Two Famous Detectives on the Same Case. 48—Old Broadbrim in a Deep Sea Struggle; or, A Helping Hand from Nick Carter. 49—Old Broadbrim on the Wrong Case; or, Revenge After Two Years. s0—Old Broadbrim, in the Dark; or, Throwing Light on a Tangled Mystery. 51—Old Broadbrim on the Stage; or, How the Quaker Foiled a Female Fiend. 52— Young Broadbrim, the Boy Detective; or, The Old Quaker’s Youthful Ally. 53—-Young Broadbrim in Kansas City; or, What Was Found in the Flood. s4—-Young Broadbrim on an Aérial Trail; or, The Terrible Ordeal of Fire. ss—-Young Broadbrim & Company; or, Solving the Mysteries of Rockwood. s6—Young Broadbrim Triumphant; or, The’ Girl Cracksman. 57—Young Broadbrim Fighting an Unknown Power; or, A Scientific Murderer. s8—Young Broadbrim ona Weird Case; or, The Mystery of the Phantom Voices. sg—Young Broadbrim on a Long Trail; or, Dandy Dick Shanghaied. All of the alove numbers always on hand. If you cannot get them from your newsdealer, five cents a copy will bring them to you by mail, postpaid, STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 238 William Street, New York. : Containing the Most Sarre es ono Ta: auaceeniee! - 98—Buffalo Bill’s Rush-Ride; or, Sure-Shot, the High- -Flyer. 99—Buffalo Bill and the Phanien Soldier; or, Little Sure-Shot’s Lone Trail. Ioo—Buffalo Bill’s Leap for Life; or, The White Death of Beaver Wash. toI1—Buffalo Bill and the Dead-Shot Rangers; or, The Prairie Outlaw at Bay. 102—-Buffalo Bill in Dead Man’s Swamp; or, Trailing the Red Man Hunters, 103—Buffalo Bill’s Pony Patrol; or, The Mysterious Boy of the Overland. 104—Buffalo Bill in Disguise; or, The Boy Boomer at Danger Divide. 105—Buffalo Bill’s Ordeal of Fire; or, The Siege of Longhurst Ranch. 106—Buffalo Bill on a Renegade’s Trail; or, The White Queen of the Mandans, 107—Buffalo Bill’s Balloon Trip; or, Foiling the Apaches. x08—Buffalo Bill’s Drop; or, Dead Shot Ned, the Kansas Kid. 10o9—Buffalo Bill’s Lasso-Throwers; or, Shadow Sam’s Short Sto, 110—Buffalo Bill’s Relentless Trail; or, The Unknown Slayer of the Black Cavalry. t11—Buffalo Bill and Silent Sam; or, The Woman of the Iron Hand. 112—Buffalo Bill’s Raid on the Midnighters; or, Following a Specter Guide. 113—Buffalo Bill at Beacon Rock; or, Drawing Lots with Death, —_ 114—-Buffalo Bill and the Wolves of Mexico. od ‘ 11s—Buffalo Bill and the White Buffalo; or, The Black Horse Rider. 116—Buffalo Bill and the Prairie Hercules; or, The Spectre Soldier of the Overland: 117—-Buffalo Bill and the Doomed Thirteen; or, Out on the Silver Trail. 118—Buffalo Bill’s Ride for Life; or, A Hard-Won Victory. I19—Buffalo Bill’s Grim Guard; or, The Chinaman in Buckskin. 120—Buffalo Bill’s Discovery; or, The Mystery of the Gold Treasure. 121—Buffalo Bill’s Clean-Up; or, Routing the Rascals of Gold Dust City. 122—Buftalo Bill’s Pards of the Plains; or, The Dread Shot Four. 123—-Buffalo Bill’s Helping Hand; or, The Secret of Kid Glove Kate. 124—Buffalo Bills Boy Pard; or, Captain Hyena and His Red: Angels. 125—-Buffalo Bill’s Sacrifice; or, Waneta, the Indian Queen. 126—Buffalo Bill’s Red Trail; or, The Unmasking of Captain Hyena. 1 127—Buffalo Bill’s Death-Deal; or, The Wandering Jew of the West. 128—Buffalo Bill’s Double; or, The False Guide. 129—Buffalo Bill at Advance City; or, The Wolves of the Mountains. 130—Buffalo Bill and the Black Trailers; or, White Coyote, the Renegade Chief. 131—Buffalo Bill’s Dead-Shot Dragon; or, The Man-Killer of Perdition City. 132—Buffalo Bill’s Trump Card; or, The Indian Heiress. aE ae : SS All of the above numbers always on hand. If you cannot et them from your newsdealer, five cents a copy will bring them to you by’mail, postpaid. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 238 William Street, New York. Te, Thrilling Adventures of the Celebrated. Government Scout “BUFFALO BILL” (Hon. William F. Cody ).\ Ses RT LARGEST CIRCULATION IN AMERICA, TIP TOP WEEKLY The ideal publication for the American youth Contains stories of the adventures of Frank merriwell, the famous Yale athlete, and Dick, his younger brother, who is the pride of Fardale Academy. There are competitions con- tinually running in its columns, whereby the successful teams may win complete outfits, in- cluding uniforms. The following is a list of the latest numbers: #83. Dick Merriwell Surprised; or, Cap’n Wiley’s Wind Jammers. 884. Frank Merriwell’s Quick Move; or, Cooling Off Cap’n Wiley. 385. Dick Merriwell’s Red Friend; or, Old Joe Crowfoot to the Front. 886. Frank Merriweil’s Nomads; or, Cap’n Wiley’s Clever Work. 887. Dick Merriwell’s Distrust; or, Meeting the Masked Champions. 8&8. Frank ercivells Grand Finish ; or, The ladependent Champions of America. A Different Complete Story Every Week. * BRAVE AND BOLD This line is sure to please every boy who likes variety. The stories are long, and detail the adventures of an entirely new set of characters each week. The authors are the best known, and have made excellent reputa- tions by their highly interesting and original stories. Boys, if you want a treat, get this library every week, The following is a list of the latest numbers: 38. Upright and Honest; or, Harry Hale’s Struggle to Success. By Henry Harrison Haines 34. Two Young Inventors ; or, The Treasure of Three Pine Mowatain. By Bennett 35. The Life of the School; or, Out for Fun and Fortune. By Author of ‘‘Bicvcle Bays of. Blueville.’’ 36. Tom Hamlin, Mesmerist; or, The Boy With the Iron Wiil. By Matt Royal 37. The Puzzle of Panther’s Rua; or, Leon Gale’s Triumph. By Frank Earle 38. A Girl Crusoe; or, The Wonder of the Isle of Gnomes. By Cornelius Shea Greatest Detective Alive. Nick Carter. Weekly *No detective stories published can compare with those pub- lished in this library. ick Carter has had innumerable thrilling adventures in which he was assisted by Chickand Patsy, two fine, intelligent young fel- lows. Boys, you ought to buy this publication every week and read about Nick’s wonderful escapes and captures The following is a list of the latest numbers: 346. Nick Carter Qn and Off the Scent; or, The Mysterious Tragedy at Herald Square. 347. Nick Carteron a Parisian Trail; or, The Death Trap of the ‘‘Silencers’’ 348. Nick Carter’s Battle Against Odds; or, The Mystery of the Detroit Pawnbroker. 349, Nick Carter on tis Metal. or, The Trapping of Cool Kate. 350. Nick Carter's Life Chase; or, The Shot From Ambush. 351. Nick Carter’s Chain of Guilt; or, The Robbery of Expréss No. &. STORIES OF THE FAR WEST. Diamond Dick Weekly These are stories about the ES Diamond Dick and his son, ertie. Every boy will be more than satisfied with these tales, because they are drawn trueto life, and are extremely interest- ing. Diamond Dick is a dead shot, and never allows a des- perado to get the drop on him. The following is a list of the latest numbers: - Ol es Jee 359 Diamond Dick’s Boy Pards; or, The Boarding House Puzzle. 360. Diamond Dick and the Safe Crackers ; or, Two Spot’s Level Best. 361. Diamond Dick’s Last Call; or, Rum Down on the Ferry. 362. Diamond Dick’s Four Hand’s Round; or, A Game oi Keeps in the Catskills. 363. Diamond Dick’s Line Up ; or, The Young Sport’s Banner Play. 364. eee, Dick's Web, Foot Pard; or, Queer Work on the Hurricane eck. More Reading Matter Than Any Five-Cent Detective Library Published. Young Breadorim. Weekly Young Broadbrim is the shrewdest and most clever boy detective that ever lived. His marvelous strength and wonder- ful nerve enables him to pene- trate where most men would fear to go. All the tales of his advencures are absolutely new. The following is a list of the catest numbers written espec- ‘ally for this line: 52. Young ee the Boy Detective; or, The Old Quaker’s Faithfu Ve 33. Young ®roadhbrim in Kansas City; or, What Was Found in the Flood 54. Young Broadbrim on an Aerial Trail; or, The Terridle Ordeal of Fire 55. Young ered aaa Company; or, Solving the Mysteries of Rock- wood. $6. Young Broadbrim Triumphant; or, The Girl Cracksman. 5¢. Youag ee Fighting an Unknowa Power; or, A Scientific urderer, ALES OF FRONTIER) ADVENTURE. Buffalo Bill Stories Every boy ought to read the adventures of Buffalo Bill, as detailed in this library. They are full of lively advent- ure, and just the kind that thrills the heart of every true boy. The following is a list of the latest numbers: Fo ng = SE + Sy RYT ies = 4) 120. Buffalo Bill’s Discovery; or, The Mystery of the Gold Treasure. 121. Buffalo’ Bill’s Clean-Up; or, Routing the Rascais of Yellow Dust LY. 122. Buffalo Bill’s Pards of the Plains; or, The Dead Shot Four. 123. Buffalo Bill’s Helping Hand; or, The Secret of Kid Glove Kate. 124. Buffalo Bill’s Boy Pard; or, Captain Hyena and His Red Angels. 125. Buffalo Bill’s Sacrifice; or, Waneta, the Indian Queen. || } an pe NRG ET ET f et ik . cis ait cis ais a: os . is os ois be cis os ots cis os “ os : ats eis as es & cis os cs ¢ ets en : oe ge