vyeceeed A WEEKLY PUBLICATION DEVOTED 10 BORDER HISTORY Assued Weekly. By Subscription $2.50 per yeur. Entered as Second Cluss Matter at New York Post Office by STREET & SMITH, 238 William hey lv. Y, ~ No. 139. _ Price, Five Cents. UIGIK THE AYTHIP_ oF Beale Bh Fred Ford, busily engaged in severing the thongs that bound Buffalo Pill, looked up just in time to see one of the desperadoes spring to his feet and vanish into the thicket. RGR PE cr Eas Spee + = ee ee : : ee : a nas of = pS ieee a ™ seis See SS ce ES = STEED Rene yaar et aes men reineaneesen ses 1 i rm TTT aa RR DEVOTED A WEEKLY PUBLI CATION IL 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, 278 William St. Nii. Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1904, tn the Office of the Librartan of Congress, Washington, D. C. No. 139. NEW YORK, January 9, @ 1904. Price Five Cents. OR, The Mysterious Boy of the West. ~ By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.” CHAPTER’ I. MET BY CHANCE, It was a wild scene amid the mountains of Colorado, and the landscape unbroken by a single habitation. An eagle soaring high in the heavens, a squirrel bound- — ing from limb to limb of a pifion, and a bird trilling forth notes of beauty, were the only objects visible. Suddenly another object might have been seen, coming out of the thicket on the mountain side, and moving down- ward toward the valley. It was a man, with pick and shovel on one shoulder and rifle on the other, and a face bronzed by re and fur- rowed by hardship. Dressed in the top-boots, dark pants and blue woolen shirt of a miner, his rough garb did not hide the nobility of his face, and the intellectual and ‘brilliant eyes that had evidently in the past gazed upon far different scenes from that which they then beheld.. With a swift, firm tread he came down the mountain, following an almost unbroken path; then, as his eyes fell upon the sunset beauties over the hilltops, che paused, dropped his shovel and pick, and leaning upon his rifle, gazed upon the grand scene spread out before his vision. Absorbed in the loveliness of nature, he failed to observe that a form had emerged from the shadows of the trees that bordered the stream running through the valley and was advancing toward him. It was also the form of a man carrying the tools of a miner, a rifle and a large bundle swung to his pack. With apparently tired step he ascended the hill, and had approached within fifteen paces of the other before he saw him. Instantly he dropped his tools, threw forward his rifle, and said, quickly: “Well, sir, are you friend or foe” The falling of the tools had aroused the other from his sunset reverie, and he had quickly grasped his rifle for use; but, perceiving that the other had “the drop on him,” he gazed at him and made no motion to raise the weapon to fire. Thus the two men stood the question : an instant; when again came “Are you friend or foe? Say quick! for these are dan- gerous times, partner.” Then came the answer, calm and stern: “There was a time, Hugh Arleigh, when you and I were Tor BUFFALO friends, and then enmity came between us; but meeting here now in this faraway land, I say, let us bury the hatchet.” “Burt Bernard!” gasped the other, his face paling. “Yes, [am Burt Bernard, your old-time boyhood friend and rival; you won Helen Tracey, the prize we both strove hard to gain, and for a while life seemed a happy dream’ to you. “But she is dead now, and adver has fallen upon you and me, Hugh, and we meet here in the gold moun- tains, and as miners. “My cabin lies yonder in the valley. I say, share it with me and let us be friends, for the sake of her we both lov ed so well.” fhe bronzed-faced miner stepped forward as he pct c, and stretched forth his hand, and Hugh Arleigh po to meet him, and said, earnestly: eT getfulness and be your friend. “I Knew that financial troubles had fallen upon you, and they said you had disappeared, none knew where. _ “Shortly after I failed, and the gold fields lured me to ‘Search for gold. I have beetr here but a few weeks, § searching the mountains for a claim.” “And I have been here two years, and nothing but ill \uck has dogged my steps. | “But come, that cabin, you can just see it in the valley, is my home, and I am alone; but I have plenty to eat and rink for an old friend, and we will work on B wiin renewed hope of success. Come.” Shouldering their tools and rifles, the two mien, so strangely met after vears of separation—men who had been rivals in school, in boyhood games and in love as they grew to manhood—walked briskly down the mountain side, to the cabin in the shadow ofthe valley. But better for them had they never again met on earth. CHAPTER. if FOR LOVE OF. GOLD, A shriek went up, loud, ringing, piercing, from a canyon i the mountains, and sent forth many am echo from the surrounding rocks A wild shriek it was, and in a'man’s voice What could have wrung froma brave, strong man a C that a lost spirit might utter on the very verge of sydition ? i A woman, from terror, i] anguish, might give vent to such a cry; but why a man? One glance into the canyon, down into-the depths of which the sunlight penetrated sparingly through the dense ‘olage, and a man was to be seen in prostrate attitude. ‘He was a man of fine presence, spite of his rude Dip Oo TORLES, Indeed I will, Burt, bury the past in the grave of for-. a mass of shining ore. For long days he had toiled and toiled, only occasionally turning up a little of the precious dust. Then, suddenly, with one blow, he had revealed a fortune to his astonished, gteedy eyes. It was more than his nervous natute could - stand, and he broke forth with the wild shriek that went echoing through canyon and forest. Like one demented he now groveled in the dust that held the precious ore, laughing, talking, praying, and wild with delight. Before his vision swept a future of luxury, even. greater than that which he had known in the past, before his ex- travagant speculations had dragged him down to foverty and sent him away to the mountains to dig for gold. Every now and then he would spring to his feet, and seizing his pick, strike it deep into the earth, to again turn up the yellow metal; then he would again go mad with the gold fever that had seized him. At last, realizing that night was coming on, he gathered the dust together, filling his hat and large silk handker- chief, and started for his cabin. In a safe place he deposited the metal, and then began to prepare his lonely supper, for his companion, Burt Ber- nard, with whom he had shared the cabin since their strange meeting a month before, had gone to the nearest mining camp for supplies, eral days, as it was a long trip across the mountains. All through the night he lived over, in dreams, his rich find, and.at dawn was up again and breakfastless went tc the lead he had struck. Through the long day, with sweat on his brow like oil, he toiled and toiled, while each blow of the pick but in- creased his riches. Thus he worked until night again hid the yellow meta if froth view. Worn out by excitement, he went again to his cabin. where he tossed through the restless night; and a third day added to his riches by his tireless, incessant digging At last human nature could stand no more, and the half-starved body, dragged down by fatigue and the ex- citement of his brain, became a prey to fever. Then. barely able to crawl, he crept to his cabin and sunk dowr upon his humble cot. hugging to his heart his yellow gold And thus, raging in delirium, Burt Bernard found hin when he came in from his weary tramp, loadéd down witt provisions, One glance told es all, and a bitter curse broke from his lips while he muttered : eee I have worked for long and. weary months, anc I found no rich treasure like this; while you, Hugh Ar. eu but a few weeks here, have won the. fortune of < miner’s clothing, and he was bending over a hole in the side of the hill, from which his pick had just dragged forth and would not return for sev- . = SE SS es mas at Bi {REESE 2 [eS Beare a EES SSS millionaire, to judge from the dust you clutch so greedily to your heart. “You won from me the woman | loved, and now you have the treasure which should have been mine; great God! why shall it not be mine?” He turned pale at the thought that flash brain, and clasped his forehead in his hands. Thus he stood, his eyes staring, his face white and his _ form trembling. At last.he said in a tone almost inarticulate : “Oh, God! how I am tempted!’ A little later he stepped forward and glanced ‘at the while he muttered: No, no, no! ed through his ~ fever-marked-man, “He may die, and then—— this crime.” And his better nature triumphing, he bathed the face of his friend, gave him a cooling drink, and then sat down to ponder before the hearth.” With his head buried in his hands he sat long in deepest meditation. Then he sprang to his feet with a wild cry “T will have that gold!’ Seizing the form of Hugh Arleigh in his strong arms, he bore him to the door and out into the fearful night, for a fierce storm was sweeping down the valley. Before him the river, swollen into a foaming torrent, roared savagely, and to the high bank above it he stag- gered with his human load. No resistance came from the man he intended to tilt, but instead a wild laughter and incoherent words. Above his head he swung the form. Then down into the flood it went, and was borne away upon the rushing waters. With a ery of terror, as the lightning flashed around him, Burt Bernard rushed back into his cabin, and sink- ing upon his bed, tried to shut out from his ears the angry roar of the thunder and the blinding glare that seemed to fill the hut as with a raging fire. I cannot do , shouting : : CHAPTER Lit: LOST “AND WON. Into one of the most elegant gambling dens of Denver there entered a tall, finely formed and heavily bearded man, who, after glancing around the brilliantly lighted room, moved over to a faro table, with the evident inten- tion of playing. He was evidently a man of wealth, refined in appear- ance, and elegantly dressed, though there was a certain nervousness about him that adicad a restless nature, and one that sought excitement to drive away moody meditation, THE BUPRALO BILL STORUES. 3 “Do you play, sir?’ asked the dealer, politely, seeing that he was a stranger. Several of the players glanced at him, while one whis- pered to a young army officer, who was looking on at the game : “The bank will lose now, for that is Burt Bernard, the millionaire speculator, and his luck is proverbial.” The one spoken of overheard the remark; and, having a passing acquaintance with the speaker, said, pleasantly: “Good-evening, Mr. Doan; it is to see just how far my luck will go that I came here to-night to test it against a faro bank.” “It will not desert you, everything you go into is a success,” “Yes; but we ag. see how this one turns doubtless, as I have heard that answered Doan. Les} ont five All were surprised at the sum the millionaire ventured. “he dealer handed over the “chips,” took the money, and Burt Bernard laid the entire sum on one card, and— lost. He turned pale, yet kept perfectly calm and continued to play. The news that Burt Bernard, the millionaire miner, was gambling heavily and losing, caused a crowd of spectators to gather, and they became deeply interested, for with every turn of the card the bank won. Among those who came up to the table was a man of striking appearance. He wore blond side whiskers and mustache, and his hair, almost flaxen, fell upon his shoul- ders, while his eyes were as black as night. Flashily, though richly dressed, and wearing diamonds in profusion, he had been seen in the gambling saloon quite often of late, and sometimes he played, yet invariably lost. Some said he was a cattle king, others, that he was a miner; yet none seemed to know what was his name, or where his bea. Yet there was one who knew; a dark-faced, evil-eyed M Se who often was seen with him, and of whom as little was known as of the other. ae some moments he stood watching Burt Bernard lose, and then said: “At last his luck has changed; now it is my turn.” The young officer looked up at the speaker: but the lat- ter had turned suddenly and was leaving the room, and the next instant passed quickly out of the door. Though losing heavily, Burt Bernard continued to play, until at last he muttered, as if to himself: “Tf I lose more, I will be unable to meet those payments to-morrow, and [ will be rumed, for not a dollar can I get out of my other investments... . hee “But luck must change; I will try once more, and make the bet enough to sink or swim.” | Then he said aloud: 2 THE BUFFALO “Mr, Dealer, twenty thousand on this card, sir, and I Ww Hl give you my. check for it.” “Your check is good, sir—there—you have lost, Mr. Bernard !’ Burt Bernard stood like one dazed. His face grew pallid, and the expression on it was pitiful to behold. It drew pity from one, and that one was the young army officer. He touched Burt Bernard on the arm, and said, in a kindly ‘tone: “T seldom play, sir; but my luck is wonderful ; nut me to place your money, if vou bet more.” Catching at a straw, like a drowning man, Burt Ber- nard answered, eagerly: “T am largely interested in investments : but my money is tied up, so [ can only risk a thousand, which I have here in my purse; play that for me, and play it to win, for the leve of God!” The crowd had seen the whispered conversation, but did not know what was being said. ‘ The next moment Burt Bernard and the officer ap- proached the faro table together, and the latter announced : “Mr. Dealer, Mr. Bernard wishes me to play for him.” “So the money is put up, sir, it is immaterial to me,” was the answer. Then the officer threw five hundred upon a card. “You have won, sir,” said the dealer, coolly. . “T make it a thousand,” was the equally cool reply. Again the officer won. Then a sum three times the amount was risked, and luck fell once more upon the soldier. With a grip of iron, so deep was his interest, Burt Bernard grasped the arm of the winner; and.thus he stood, waching the play, until the officer asked, quietly: “How much did you lose, Mr. Bernard?” “One hundred and fifteen thousand dollars.” “Here is that sum, sir; now let us retire. Like one in a dream, Burt Bernard turned away, ing the huge roll of bills thrust into his hand. ‘The young officer accompanied him from the table, the eyes of all following them, for where the one had steadily lost a fortune, the other had as steadily garned it back for him. so per- erasp- CHAPTER ‘fv. ASSASSIN. THE Upon leaving the gambling den, Burt Bernard and his unknown, army ae ae to the street together when the latter said, suddenly : “I have left my cloak, sir, so shall return for it; good- oh co ; aa s “Not so fast, my young friend, for I am not going to part thus with one who has saved my life,’ said Burt Bernard, warmly. BILL STORIES. “Nonsense, Mr. Bernard; Y merely saved -you some _ ready cash, that, had you lost, might have cramped you a little to-morrow,” lightly replied the soldier. “Young man, let me tell you the truth: I came to Den- ver with a large sum of gold, dug out of a mine, and | invested it, and all I went into increased my fortune. “But of late 1 am tied up so by investments that the Joss of this/money would have wrecked me; while with : I can carry along my risks for a few weeks and get ou ahead. “Tt [ bad lost it, I should have killed myself.” There was no doubting the words of the man, for his face showed It was this wild determination in his face that had caused the young officer to play for him, well knowing his invariable good luck, though he seldom gambled. “Well, Mr. Bernard, | hope you wilf net gamble again, and [ am glad to have been able to serve you,” was the frank response. “We must meet again name, please?” “Edwin Arleigh, “Edwin Arleigh ! Arleigh and Helen and be friends; what is your sir, a lieutenant in the army.” Great God! are you the son of Hugh Tracey?” Burt Bernard covered is face with his hands, as if to ‘shut out from his sight the face of the man before him. “Yes; you knew my parents then?” said Lieut. Arleigh, surprised at the feeling shown by his companion. “Your-father was my boyhood friend; your mother I loved, and hoped to marry, but your father won her.” “Ah, I remember now having heard my parents speaix of you, and I am dehghted to meet their friend.” “Arleigh, we must meet again. Breakfast with me my Tooms to-morrow morning at nine; good-night!” Then Burt Bernard turned away, sepnied out of the ” grand entrance to the saloon, and walked ae up the dimly-lighted street. From the other side, under the shadow of a tree, aman was watching him, and before he had gone a dos Zen paces, there came a shrill whistle, a dark fori m sprang-out from the shelter of a door, and he was in a grasp. he could not shake off, while he heard the words: “Now, At the same moment the man who had given the whistle from the other side of the street, rushed up and also grasped the millionaire. Burt Bernard, you die!” But another had heard the whistle; his quick eye had seen the watching form, and, bounding. back, he rushed out upon the pavement and beheld the strt igole. Instantly he came to the rescue. There was a knife blow and a pistol shot together, and two men sunk upon the pavement in a heap, while a third dashed swiftly away ‘ Se EPEAT THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. from the scene. A fourth, who was the young officer, stood above those who had failen. “By Heaven!” he exclaimed, “it was that blond-haired fellow I saw in the saloon, and I fear he has killed Mr. Bernard! It is too bad he escaped.. But this fellow has my builet through his brain, and,” he bent over and hesi- ‘it is the Mexican companion of the man Who would have thought they were as- tated an instant, ° who got away! sasins ? “But here comes help, and then I shall know 1f Mr. Bernard is we In the crowd was a _.police sastily made his report. officer A crowd now gathered officer, to whom . ¥€ youn Jhen a carriage fra ee up. Mr. Bernard in it, and springme m Eine was driver hastily to the rooms of the millionaire. There a surgeon who had been sent for arrived and examined the wounded man, “Ehe one who Ba ve these knife wounds, Lieut. Ar- he did not know cee _ not a common assassin, ; a the surgeon. glanced on the ribs, and are merely one, entering his right side is the , and that | do act believe fatal, with quiet for the Ppalece and careful nursing.” “He shall have careful said Edwin Ar- Px se. leigh. Through the weeks: that followed he kept his word, and when one day he was suddenly or he left Burt: Bermard: o HiUTSing., Sit his regiment, plete r Who his assailant was Burt Bernard e police discov Edwin Arleigh. ecevery. any more than could t Mexican, shot down by A reward of ten thousand dollars, offer: lionatre for the oe re of his intende to de any good, for the blond-hairec who had so often visited the sees den and been seen on oe streets in the a and the ea from Wenver, more, disappeared him knew him no CHAPTER ‘V. EEEVMIVE City. was situated ch- 10$e char acte ris SH pte, on the Overland se pees r n the mountains, and was ore of #1 tic ea. so commontin the Wes tern Territories a score or two years cae It was on a plateau, overhung bya lefty mountain, and r above the mallbys ; upon either side, and was approached y a long, winding, and not very good, road from the east, while-the highway going west was a gradual slope for miles to the rough country beyond. Originally a mere stage station,"and then turned into a dinner stopping place, it had not shown much Ree ntil go old and silver had been discovered in paying quan- tities in the mountains in the vicinity. Then there had flocked to Mountain Station, as it was t that time called, a large number of miners, and the conse en. attendants and hangers-on of a mining camp. In a short while the station improved so greatly that it became a busy place, and the inhabitants so felt their im- portance that a meeting was held, and Mountain Station changed its name to Beehive City. As the business of the place and its adjacent mining camps increased, the Overland stage company put on an extra coach, and irom being only a dinner place, it also became a terminus for stages coming from both east and west. all the characters, from gamblers, miners and aters, to stage drivers, shopkeepers and pony riders, the most admired and looked up to were those who held the ribbons from the box of an Overland coach, and of these Burke Halford was the idol. Of course there were certain. gamblers to be looked on and admiration, a pony rider who was a pet of and others to command the respect of the wild the height ob- with awe the masses, bordermen; but none towered in glory to tained by Burke Halford. A giant in size, and a man who could easily handle three ordinary men, a dead shet, the champion driver, and a big- hearted, handsome fellow, he had won his way up, and was and respect, and each and always greeted reearded wit h almost 4 trip in he was looke with a cheer. universal envy 1 for eagerly, All poor loafers who hung around the barrooms for precarious drinks were sure 0 hear, upon the arrival of Burke Halford, the generous invitation : “Gents, put yer belts to ther bar an’ say what yer will swallow, fer it are my treat, an’ fhet means ther invitation are general.”’ and nightly, from the miner and gvam- Nith plenty of excitement daily ¥ striking of new leads to the killing of a1 4 bler, Bechive City suddenly found another cause for talk, « and it became the general topic of conversation. This new cause of excitement: was the stopping of a coach on the mountain, where it passed through a and the robbing of en on the box, and with him the the vehiele contamed half a canyon, the passengers. Burke Halford had ae ozen passengers. “Bate told the story, upon the arrival of the stage at the station, and the circumstances under which he told it were as follows: © “Hello, Burke, who was to come over with Vint, the express messenger, called out Boss Boni- weangere § Tt 272 yous 6 | | THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. Bice, the keeper of the station, and. proprietor of the Bee- hive Palace, the hotel of Bechive City, and a board shanty that looked like a huge barn. “He are inside with ther pilgrims, Boss, so shake "em up, fer thar is some-of ’em hain’t dead, onless they. died 0’ - skeer,’ remarked Burke, throwing the lines upon either side to the stable boys, and leisurely getting down from his box. “Why, Burke, what is the matter?’ asked Boss Boni- face, opening the stage door, and starting back as.a so form tumbled out upon the ground. “He are dead, hain’t.-he?”’ asked the driver. “I should think so.” “Waal, thar are more of ’em so situated, Boss; thar is Vint, the messenger,” and he drew out a slender form. It was a young man with a beardless face, and he was dead. “Come, pilgrims, this are Beehive City, an ther Beehive Palace, so h’ist yerse’fs out, an’ let’s har is more trouble done,’ cried Burke. - Then out of the coach came two frightened-looking men, whose dress and appearance showed them not to be deni- zens of the far West. Behind these came two miners supporting in their arms »’a comrade, dressed as they were, who seemed severely wounded, for he groaned as though in great anguish. The wounded man, and the four unarmed passengers, were taken into the hotel by Boss Boniface, and the two dead bodies were borne away for burial. - Then Burke Halford stepped into. the adjacent bar- om, and gave his usual invitation, adding: “Give.me a leetle brandy, Spirit Dick, for I needs bracin’ iter what hev transpired.” “Spirit Dick, so called on account of his occupation as dispenser of spirits, and not from his ethereal nature, for he tipped the scales at two hundred and forty pounds, gave the brandy bottle and a glass to the driver, and then set up the glasses and drinks a the others. “Gents, your health and mine,” said the stage driver, with provoking coolness, for the crowd was at fever heat to know what had occurred on the run in of the coach. The drinks were dashed off with a gusto. Then Grit . Gaines, the Diamond Sport of Beel hive City, said, in his free-and-easy way: ny yer is at see ef “Spirit Dick, set up the drinks again to my tally; and in the meantime, a give ts me story of the stiffs you brought in with you.” ee Now, Grit Gaines was a man 1. who was almost univet- sally feared in Beehive City, in spite of the reckless souls he had for companions, and yet he was also exceedingly _ popular. . A young man with a beardless face, and lool king scarcely over twenty-one years of age, there was yet that in his fearless eyes and resolute mouth, that would cause one to respect him for the courage he possessed. As handsome as a picture, and with-a form perfect in outline, and womanly in his manner, he was yet a devil when aroused, possessed the strength of a giant, and on several occasions when bullied had shown the tiger in his nature, and proven ‘that he feared nothing on earth. He carried a couple of revolvers under his sack coat, as all knew, and he could use them with deadly precision, But, when any miner was in bad luck, Grit Gaines aided | him in a quiet way; did a gambler go broke and want money, he staked him; was any one sick, he nursed him, or paid some one to do so; and in this way he had gained the love of those who knew him, as, by his reckless gam- bling and daring nature, he had gained the prefix of Grit to his name of Gaines. One day he had ridden up to the Beehive Palace, splen- didly mounted and well armed, and had asked for the best reom, and paid for it a month in advance. On the books he had registe red his name simply: se ALLAN GAINES, “United States of America.” That evening he had appeared in the ‘‘Fortune’s Lay- out,” as the gambling and liquor saloon of the Beehive Palace was called, and had been picked up by some sports, who setting him down for a greenhorn, left him with but a V in their pockets, which he handed back to them with the remark; “This will start you again, boys.” Outside of his deeds in Beehive City nothing was known, and but one man had been found bold enough to in- quire into his antecedents, and that man lost his life when pressing his insolent inquiries beyond forbearance. Grit Gaines had this man decently buried at his ex- pense, and erected a tombstone to his memory. Stich was.Grit Gaines, the man who had asked Burke Halford to tell the story of his adventure on the road. CHAPTER UV E, THE STAGE DRIVER'S STORY. “Pards and gents,” and Burke Halford, the stage driver of the Overland, looked around upon the crowd, though which of the number he designated as “‘Pards,” s “Gents,” find out, : : “You wishes ter hear, how it were I comed in ter- -day and which it would have taken a Philadelphia lawyer to with some cold meat in my ole hearse, an’ I has no objec- tion ter tellin’ yer, an’ will do so now, as I see my festive friend, Grit, the Gambler, are gittin’ a leetle impatient.” “A good deal impatient, Burke, for life’s too short to wait an hour for a story that can be told in ten minutes; aes eae See ESS IS eS THE BURKALO you found road agents on the way in, doubtless?” said the handsome.young gambler. “Thet is jist what I did find. Yer see, we hed come half wp the mountain, and had entered Dead Man’s Canyon, when all of a suddint I seen a horseman sittin’ on his horse same as ef he were waitin’ fer some one. “An’ thet are jist what he were doin’, pards; he were waitin’ fer us, an’ we found it out; too. Vint, ther mes- senger, says ter me, says he: Fard, man are masked.’ UNG, ; but I says a lie, fer he were masked, fer he wore a a piece o’ silk over his face, and hed eye-holes ter. see out of. “But he were a han’sum cuss, he were, as ter general looks an’ make-up, speakin’ ‘ithout seein’ his face, an’ he tid a red bay horse, an’ he were armed clean through, an’ were as fancy a galoct as a Kansas gal w'u’d like tackle at a dance. “pays: LE: “Vint, thet ere feller is Seer thar is more like hin: whar he co ‘Says Vint: : ““Pard Halford, I hasn’t felt 1 aed ‘ther idee I. might hev my checks af it’s fight, say ther word, an’ I'll. let ’em taste 9 ter a-goin’ tackle us, 7 I me from.’ just right o' fate, fer [ called in soon; ther 4. i + so cheerful o° late, when we geéts ther hadn’t. been fer “Now, ther messenger I felt kind o’ sorry fer him, warnin’, boys, we hes ter go. VV aal. fs ey. what is ter honorable.’ “A on! druv, pards, ontil I heerd “el altt up with yer hands? ““T halted, I did, fer I doesn’t like ter be over a man, as I cast my eye seen more of a kind; thet is, thar were horses plainly visi- ble, arr’ whar thar were horses thar must hev been tho’ T e’u’d only see ther ther bushes. “But Vint he ropbin’ back. pen. cheer up, old feller, an’ we'll see when we knows cf his intentions is ther music: efuel an e over my shoulder, [ riders, legs 0 ammiles under ther e irned fust, oeent $5 ts yelled out, ‘Ill see ver d and away he pops at ther Lord love ye, you’ yer 1£ on horse- ; d oughter seen what hap- galoot,’ ‘Then, suthin’ *mazin’ ter ther stage at a “Theerd ther robber say or cus come run, and shot through ften he let inter wd hev been le ter hear ther howlin’ inside from them two tenderfeet from ther East. ‘“Pards, I held my hands up same as I were a oi askin’ biessin's on his lambs, an’ ther red mas sh e rceded ter git acquainted with ther hearse, fer nobody felt like shootin’ sich a nice gent. ] - Pea like a prayer, sin’, an’ he Lt ther me ssenge ther head. ther stage, an’ ye ther contents o' tne ter: BILL STORiFEG og “Vl al I handed out ther express box, an’ he just tuk ther bank notes out, an’ said, pleasant-like: ‘Good-aiter- noon, sir; we will meet again, and take a piece o’ partin’ advice.’ “ “What are it, yer durnéd red-faced gerloot? says I. ““It are,’ says he, mighty polite-like, ‘thet we will meet ‘arly an’ often, an’ my advice are thet you ups yer han’s when yer hears ther word, an’ then yer won't git inter trouble with a bullet.’ voays 1: ' ‘Thankee fer yer advice, pard; an’ who is yer?” “Says he: ““Call me Red Rider, or ther cap’n o 3 Call ther Red Riders ther Overland.’ “He waved his hand, thet hed on it a red glove, guv a whistle, an’ rode away, an’ I heerd plenty o’ ther gang follerin’ him from whar they'd been hidin’ in ther thickets on ther side o’ ther canyon. “Waal, pards, I picked up poor Vint, an’ put him in ther hearse, whar ther were another stiff, an’ one miner pilgrim wounded, and I druv on heur, you bet, an’ ef ther Red Riders don’t make trouble on ther Overland, jist call mea tootin’ liar from Liarsville; say, Pard (rte? “KK said,” was a long time Spirit Dick.’ Such was the driver's story, and that it gave cause xcitement in Beehive City, the reader well under- ee: for it was the first time road agents had appeared on the Overland ity of that prosperous mining rillae 5 Vi tle e, what did yer responded the gambler between drinks; set 1 in the vicin a ne JAAP EWR OVAL, RD Dele Ro S.. ern voice that uttered the ree words a Se o and ran Young out the one to whom the threatening is foot pressed ‘aS Given dra age eed hard on t ran Overland PE, EE EN: 9 4 1 Gown the brake, and ee 1) q te nos stage came to a a The scene was an isé a ad in the Laramie 8, on the Overland Stage road; and the one who ; ern command was a horseman, some ten paces aheac eaders, with revelver drawn and occupying a posi- ie center Gi 4 “I pass, pard,’ was the driver, who dropped his reins, as he drew his horses down to a halt, and raised his hands above his head. ds peered out of res At once half a dozen hea dow, and several voices asked, tremulously PAV bat 18 16, dr Wee” “A leetle obstacle in ther road,” tion in canyon, Ths Ses es se of th ay laconic response of the stage € Witl- was the reply. “THE BUFFALO “Cannot we get out and remove it?’ obligingly said one of the passengers. “Guess yer'd better not try, pard, fer ther obstacle are a Red Rider.” “The Red Riders!” The cry broke from the lips of every passenger, for all well knew who were the Red Riders of the Overland, and dreaded them as they did death itself. “Ves, the Red Riders demand toll,” came in the clear tones of the horseman, and looking out again, the passen- gers saw but one enemy to bar their way. “There is but one, and we are seven; we will resist,” said a dark-faced, heavily-bearded man of fifty. “There is others around, you bet; thet are ther cap- tain,” called out the driver, who overheard the remark. All this had passed almost in an instant of time, and then the Red Rider’s voice was again heard, asking: ‘Driver, have you a passenger with you by the name of Burt Bernard?’ All in the coach looked the one at the other, to see who would answer to that name; but not one showed evidence of being the person asked for, while the driver said: “7 ain’t a school teacher, capt’in, ter keep ther name 0’ ther pilgrims in my hearse; but Ill ask ‘em. “Tez ary one o’ yer got there handle o’ Burt Bernard, pards, fur ther Red Rider would be pleased ter know, durn him.” No answer came, and the Red Rider immediately rode forward and glanced into the coach window, so that all had a good look at him. He was mounted upon a blood-red bay, the saddle and bridle were of red leather, while he was dressed in a suit of black velvet, and wore a mask of scarlet that completely hid his face. Around his waist was a scarlet silk sash, half hiding a belt that contained icur revolvers, two on each hip, while two larger weapons were held in holsters upon either side oi the saddle. A black hat, with red cord encircling it, and a crimson ostrich plume, a pair of cavalry boots and red gantiet gloves covering his hands completed his costume. His form was muscular, he sat his horse like one raised in the saddle, and though his face could not be seen, it was evident that it was full of reckless daring and resolution. _ Glancing fearlessly into the window of the stage, he looked at each passenger that sat on the back seat, and then turned, at the same time moving his horse up a step, to observe those on the front seat. | “By the Rockies! one man sha’n't back me down; take that, you red devil!” - ‘The speaker was a miner, suddenly driven to resistance by seeing no comrades to support the Red Rider. He a saved that poor fellow’s life. ‘BILL STORIES. threw his revolver forward as he spoke and pulled trigger. The cap snapped, and betore he could again cock weapon there came a flash and the miner fell back dead in his seat. Without noticing the interruption, the Red Rider still held his smoking revolver ready, as if expecting others to resist ; but had any so intended, the fate of their companion cowed them and all remained silent. “Vour name is Burt Bernard; you are the one I want,” said the Red Rider, sternly, his eyes fixed upon the heav- iiy-bearded passenger, who at once dropped his hand upon his piste! butt, to as quickly remove it, at the words: “Draw if you dare!” ‘Well, sir, what do you want with me?” sternly asked the bearded passenger. “Tad you made yourself known sooner you would have As it is, his death lies at your door, not mine.” “There is no need, sir road agent, to discuss the matter ; but tell me at once what you want with me.” “Your company; dismount, please, from the coach. It can go on to Beehive City, and if Burke Halford drives a fast gait he can arrive on time,” said the Red Rider, coolly. “Do, you mean that IT am to remain your prisoner?’ asked Burt Bernard. “That is just what I do mean, sir; you either stay will- ingly alive, or I keep your dead body.” There was no doubting the words of the Red Rider, or his tone. Willing to compromise, the passenger said: “What pledge do you give me, if I remain with you, that my life will be safe?” . : “I give no pledges, sir; it will be for you to decide as to your living or dying. Hold! not one word will I allow you with your fellow-passengers, and if I see you make a~ motion to put your hand in your pocket I will kill you.” Burt Bernard glanced hopelessly around him... The faces of his fellow-passengers showed him that the dead form in their front had taken all the fight out of them. For a moment he seemed determined to resist, single- handed ; but the revolver of the road agent captain covered his heart, and he saw that it would be instant death to make a hostile motion. On the other hand, by surrendering to his captor, there was a/chance that his life would be saved, whatever the loss might be to him financially. “You are detaining the coach, sir,” cried the road agent, sternly. “Very well, I submit to your terms and surrender.” “A wise decision, Burt Bernard.” Without taking his eyes off of his prisoner, the Red Rider now addressed the driver: “Halford. you go back this evening, I believe?’ Vie DUPE ATO UN geet ‘Well, right at this spot you can pick up Mr. Bernard, if is “But he ain’t going west; ef he’s my way © thinkin’, by water.”’ “Yes, I forgot, he goes east. find Mr. Bernard here awaiting guest until then “Will his toes be turned Burke Halford. “Not if he comes to my terms,” van et he don’t) hae ‘Then he'll have to be lifted into the hearse,” cantly responded the Red Riders’ captain. Then he turned to the Prisoner: “Now, Mr. Bernard, please dismount.” There was no hope, and Burt Bernard obeyed. “Drive on, Halford,’ Said the Red Rider, “and, by the way, try and drill your passengers into not making fools of themselves by resistance, for I dislike to have to add so largely to your Beehive cemetery.” “Yer may git a monument thar yerself, Red Rider, o’ these days,” growled Burke Halford. The Red Rider laughed lightly, and the stage ro leaving ‘Burt Bernard standing in the road, moody and silent, and his captor covering him with his fevolver. ; he are on ther way east, an’ he wis shes he hed gone round Scott he will be my Bob‘ as he will Tell him, up, pard?’”’ significantly asked was the laconic reply. signifi- Oo some olled on, CHAPTER VIII. GAMBLER GRIT MAKES A PLEDGE, When the rattle of the stage died away, the masked Red Rider gave a peculiar call, and the sound of hoofs fol- lowed, coming out of the dense underbrush up the side of the. canyon. A moment after, riderless, trotted out two men, halted. “Burt Bernard, here is the horse you are to ride; you see that | expected you to be my guest. Mount, plea ase.” Silently, the prisoner obeyed. Wheeling alongside of him, the Red Rider gave another signal. Again a movement was heard in the bushes, and out of the thicket wheeled two ives inted upon blood bays, wearing red masks and i ives, dressed in black and sitting as upright as statues. As they moved down the canyon, the chief and his cap- tive followed, some sixty paces beh oe Once more a signal echoed ie ough the canyon. The prisoner glanced back, as he saw his captor turn his head, and saw three more horsemen, the very counterpart of those in his irent, ride down into the trail and follow in the rear. , both mou BILL STORIES. 4 Ahern (ata stern order trom the chief, the horsemen set off at a rapid gallop. Following the Overland they came in sight of the sta off to the right, and, going single ing into the moun ‘The clatter of trail for half a mile, and until , the two leaders turned aie went up a path lead- OF ae tains. their hoofs caused Burke Halford and the back, and they feared that they were to passengers to lok be again attacked, But, seeing the sigh of re "OS a ony aa em turn off and the stage ait, muttering : “No more o’ thet in mine, ef yer please, Mr. Red Rider, fer it will be many a day afore I forget poor Vint’s dead a and ther look o’ ther gent yer jist gobbled.” ing at Be City, Burke Halford again had a ling story to tell of this second attack on his coach, od as this was the fifth time a stage had been halted on the mountain during the past month, the excitement of the denizens of the mining town was greatly intensified. “Boys, we must form a band of vigilantes,” said Grit, the Gambler, when Burke had told his story, and he hac invited Spirit Dick to set up ee all around. “What are ther vigilantes ter do, gambler pard?’” asked an old. miner. “Drive these Red swered Grit Gaines. “Yer is quite youthful, pard, an’ may be able ter shuf- fle a keerd prime, an’ drap a inemy at sixty feet, but when thar is road a ter hunt,’ ter me it takes ‘wisdom to hunt ’em, an’ it‘ain’t no hundred men heur hes ther idle- r go sarchin’ fer them fellers,” wisely answered the up the mountain, they, gave a driver sent his team along at ehive Riders out of the mountains,” an- agents ‘peers ness te miner.” i i “Why, Placer Dave, you do not think it would take a hundred men to hunt down this Red Rider band of halt ” returned Grit. t will do, pard, a woe he ‘Thet is jist what it ce thet way: “T hes hunted ther agints before. men gets tergether to rob honest men o’ their “arnin’s, they ‘quainted with ther country, r of, knows how ter handle its ter be as good as a hundred fer I have hed ’speri- Vhen a band.o’ gritty expects ter die hard, they retreats ae ZYe kin take “a dozen soor apes pards, thar is more’n a dozen o these Red ef ther pilorims-an’ drivers ain’t liars.” , Placer Dave; but I hev multiplied by the figger 3, hes never seen moren six 3 ay suspicions thet they may be an’ Vm with yer in bilievin’ it would take all o’ Beehive co City to oust ‘em. oe we hes ter wait until they does some big damage er road, or ter a government express, or kills some ther Overland Company will turn out r officer, an’ then 10 . THE BUFFALO agin’ ’em. Ef it don’t ther sogers will, an’ I trust they'll do it soon, for it are a dangerous road to travel now.’ “You are right, Burke, and f for one will step to the front to aid you.” “What is yer. going ter do, Gambler Grit?” asked the dtiver. ‘Well, I have considerable leisure on my hands, and I shall scout around and see what’s to be done, and then or- ganize a band to fight the Red Riders. Jove excitement, and this will give it to me.” wy ‘The gambler smiled in his pleasant way. “Durned ef it don’t; yer’ll git excitement ef yer tackle them Riders, an’ I ‘vises yer- ter jine ther church at onct, pard, fer. yer'll need prayin’ fer ter keep yer soul from goin’ marchin’ on,’ remarked Placer Dave, and all laughed. But those who knew Gambler Grit weil were satisfied that if he made up his mind to undertake anything, he would go through with it if it cost him his life, and, lov- ing excitement, as did the denizens of that wild border town, they were glad to feel that Beehive City was not going to get dull for want of a topic.of deep interest to CISCUSS. ‘‘Pards, | pledge myself to hunt down the Red Riders, or go under, ” said Gambler Grit, and his pledge was re- ceived with ent! qusiasi; but a second remark was even more - enthusiastically received. . CC ome, gentlemen, we'll drink to the pledge 1 make you.” All drank CMAP VIER: EX. RUSPALO BILL “HANDLES THE RIBBONS’ There was no doubt that the Overland trail to Beehive City was daily becoming more dangerous to travel, for, of the four drivers of stages in and out of that sequestered hamlet,all had been halted on the road, and heard the threatening order: “Hands up!” As long as these “knights of the reins” obeyed this very suggestive command they were not harmed. But if they neglected, a shot close to their ears, as a re- minder, proved ‘that they were merely spared as acces- sories to bring through the mountains thie “pilgrims” to be robbed by the Red Riders. One driver, Gauntlet-glove Jerry, had thought, with his usual recklessness, to run the gantlet of the Riders’ fire, and had tumbled from his box a dead man, from a shot from the captain; another shot had brought down one of his wheel horses, and the passengers, after being robbed, were ordered to “drive the hearse on to the ’Hive and tell the drivers not to follow in the foolhardy track of Gaunt- let-glove Jerry.” This summary way of oe with such august indi- viduals as were the stage drivers of the Overland com- pletely bewildered the Hours: and even set the drones to the task of thinking, while it sent Gambler Grit on an- other solitary tramp to find the road agents, for he had made several long scouts of late, yet without apparent suceess. One day Brandt Hastings’ coach came whirling up to the door of the Beehive Palace at a slapping pace. BILL STORIES. As soon as it came in sight all who could do so ran out to see what was the cause of the extraordinary haste. The stage horn had rttng out far more merrily than ever Brandt Hastin gs had played it before, and thé Bechivers expected to see the driver turn cut a coach full of Red Riders which his skill arid courage had captured. But as it drew nearer some one cried out: ‘They is runnin’ away !” “No, ‘they isn’t,” called out another. ae oF avd fast came the comments. Brandt Hastin’s ain’t got hold of them reins.’ : ‘No, or is another galoot as has ’em.” “Thar are Hastings on ther top, an’ he are laid out like a Stitt. “Yer is right, Buck. toes turned up.” “An’ I sées lis gloves; it are Brandt, an’ he are did ie “But who in thunder are it holdin’ ther ribbons ?” “Don't he handle ’em °’ "Who said they was tunnin’ away? ther silk to ’em,.’ “Who are he?’ ee ae @ screatrer !” “Look at thet, how he come through t thet narrer place!" “Ther hes been work back thar, pards.” “CYar ther way, or he'll knock ther Pallis an’ upsot all ther trees.” “Not he ; he’s hed ther ribbins in his erip afore.’ uliporay |’ The last word was on a hundred lips, and it was meant as a cheer at seeing the splendid manner in which the driver brought the six foaming, running horses to a sud- I recognizes his big feet with ther Why, he’s plyin’ x er ther devil, den halt directly in front of the hotel door. A loud, firm “Whoa!” a strong pull, and the applica- _tion of the heavy brakes had Shin n that the driver, who- ever he might be, knew how to handie the reins. His masterly driving won a cheer from the crowd, who 2 a ered around excitedly, for all could now see that some- _ thing of a very startling nature had happened. Every eye was a upon the driver who had so skillfully brought the stage im. “Well, sir, there is been trouble, I see,’ said Boss Boniface, inquiringly, addressing the striking-appearing man who had sprung from the box. The driver was garbed as an army scout, and his cloth- ing and arms, no less than his splendid appearance and strong, intelligent face, drew all eyes. “Ves,” he said, pleasantly, in answer to the remark of Boss Boniface. “We had some trouble, but got through all right; but there is a boy in the coach that you might look after.” Then a man stepped forward and asked: “Pard, | has sot eves on you afore, an’ ef I ain’t-a duri ned liar, you-is ther healthy chap they calls Buffalo Bill. 2? “Yes; and you are Nat Spencer, of Kansas,” said Buf- falo Bill, pleasantly. “T are, clean through, pard, and | delights ter grip yer tist, Then Spencer turned to his friends, with this introduc- tion: “This are a old pard o’ mine, whatany yer chooses ter call fn 3ill Cody, Buffalo Bill or ras Seren ar aon THE BUFFALO “THe hes kilt Injuns, turned up white toes, hes rid pony _ express, bullwhacked over the Mormon trail, druv stage, an’ kin lick his weight in anything as keers ter tackle him.” _ This. introduction and an inv itation to drink at Buffalo Bill’s expense made the famous scout “solid” with the boys. Cin A MINER HAS SOMETHI While Nat Spencer, the miner from Kansas, had beer introducing Buffalo Bill in his peculiar way, Boss Boni- face had turned to meet a boy who had alighted from the stage. “Who is he, and what can he want in Beehive City?” he asked himself, mentally. ‘‘Are you the landlord, sir?” inquired the boy, as Boss Boniface showed him into the hotel, leaving the three other passengers, a miner and two shopkeepers, to alight from the stage as they pleased. UL am. | “T will remain some time with you,” said the boy, ‘ would be obliged for as Pe a room as you can ney “You shall have the best the house has,’ promis sed. “What is your name f" “My name is Fred Ford,’ he answered, quietly, and Boniface was still at sca, for the young man did not ex- ‘plain why he had come to Beehive City. The boy had a dark, gipsy-like face, and there was that in it to win love or cause fear. At the request of his youthful guest, Boss Boniface ran out to have a room put in readiness. “Jedgin’ by the diamonds he wears, that kid is not poor, that is certain,” he said, to himself. “He ought to be a payin’ customer.” Going to the bar, Boss Boniface hoped to learn more about the boy from the scout, but he found that Buffalo Bill had gone off somewhere with Nat Spencer, and that most of the crowd had gone along with poor Brandt Has- tings’ body to his cabin, to prepare it for burial. But in the saloon was an interested score of human beings. listening to a miner whom Boniface had seen get out of the stage. “Waal, pards,” he was saying, “all I know “Yer see we expected ter be chawed up Riders, and I were feeling durned narvous, leetle paper I hed jist sold my dust fer.. “But that boy seemed ter be as cool as a cucumber on ice. Ther two traders was narvous, though, even though they hed nothin’ much with ’em ter lose, they said. “And Buffalo Bill?” asked one. “Oh, he sat inside until Brandt Hastings sung out to him thet they was approachin’ Dead Man's Canyon, an’ then he gits out on ther box, fer he had asked the driver ter let him know. “Waal, when Buffalo Bill goes ter mount ther box, ther boy says ter him: « “Does yer intend ter fight ‘em, sir?” “Says he 66 y does. b “*You is a brave man,’ says ther boy.” “Bully fer him!” cried a voice, ah 5 NG TO SAY OF BUFFALO BILL, ” the landlord is this: by the Red fer I hed a BILE STORIES. coe “90 say we all of us,” sung out another. “Waal, pards,” continued the miner, “yer see he were pee grit. I jist drop this ole eee onter his knee, an’ says I: « Who and what was he, that he offered such generous rewards for the Red Rider c captain and his band? That was a question they could not solve. Then one, who had been the chief spokesman, said: a ill yer put thet down, young man, in ink?” ee es.” With this th saying, oe Wart He was. absent for some minutes, and, véeturning, had in his hand a dozen slips of paper. “Post these about conspicuously, please,’ handed all but one to the crowd. That one he.posted upon the front of the hotel. After the boy had re-entered the hotel Buffalo Bill came along, and at the request of the surprised crowd read the poste ed notice. it was in a bold hand, and read as follows: e boy turned away and entered the hotel, “$5,000 REWARD. “T will pay ¢6 the one who road agent band known as ‘THE RED RIDERS captures alive the ce ‘the sum of “BIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS, “and to whoever shall also capture, or kill, any miember ot his band, the sum of “ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS, “for each and every one taken or slain. “FRED Forp, “Beehive Palace, “Beehive City.” “Guess you'd as soon hev thet dust as not, Buffalo Bill,”’ said Nat, with a sly twinkle in his eye. T shall at least try to exterminate the villains, though | do not care for the reward, Nat,” and Buffalo Bill waiked away thoughtiully. CHAPTER XII. THE RED RIDER'S DEMAND. When the band of Red Riders at last. came to a halt. with Burt Bernard their prisoner, they were some ten miles from Dead Man’s Canyon, and in the very heart of the mountains. It was a spot reached only by risk of limb and ‘life, of both steed and rider, and a ee en approaches to it could be held by a couple of determined men, well armed, against almost half a hundred. As he examined the outlaw retreat into which he had been conveyed, Burt Bernard’s first thought was how ae Ne ot ‘toms his face brought up. THE BUBFALO much nature had done to protect the outlaws from pursuit and attack, and to support them after tliey were in their stronghold, for the grass grew if uses the streams were “cle ear and crvstal and icy cold, and the Same wan- dered about in abundarice, seeming little to dread the pres- ehee of man. Beneath the branches of a puge tree a tent was pitched, and befere it burned a fire of logs, at whieh stood an In- dian, preparing the midday meal. No other tent or habitation was visible in looking up the ‘eleny and toward this the Red Rider chief rode, his pris- oner by his side. The other Red Riders bore silently away up the glen, and disappeated in a thicket, before which were several horses feeding, upon the jtwic¢y grass. “Here ts my home, Burt Bern ard: dismount, and Stir ine: Snake will soon have us some dinner, after which will discuss the cause of my bringing you here,” said oe Réd Rider chief, quietly. Then, turning to the redskin, who was a stately Ute chief, he said something in the Indian tongue to him, and walked away in the direction his horsemen had gone. The Indian grunted a reply, but though he did not look at Burt Bernard, it was evident that he was his keeper in the absence of his chief. Throwing himself upon a bearskin robe, Burt Bernard limeeli up to te and mused aloud. ‘he muttered, “ts to become of me? Ajiter all ssed Gena, with gold and hope of honor and textes ny grasp, am I to die now? ‘No, this devil cannot mean to bee me. “Fie will bleed me of my geld, and bleed me well, for somehow he knows I anf rich, RSE. | 1S an J ak “But who is he? “That's the question; and how fan “I have neard it Before, and seen hi 3y Heaven! rerily believ sian who made an attempt ont ms , not my wi innings, but what that n win Arleigh, won back for me. “Tt ami sorry Arleigh was ordered off so suddenly, as { was drawn toward him strangely, considering the phan+ “Ah! here coites that accursed Red Rider!’ Back again to the tent carne the Red Rider captain, and the Indian having prepared the meal, he invited his pris- onér to partake of it with him But Burt Bernard was in no mood for eating, and paced to and fro, while the Red Rider, raising the curtain of his mask just above his mouth, sat down and ate hear tily. “Ll wish L could see the rest of his face, or recall who that man is.’ said burt Bernard, to himself, in a puz- zled way. After finishin ug his dinner, at which he was waited on in silence by the Stinging Snake, the Red Rider entered his tent, calling his prisoner to follow him. “Be seated, sir,” he said, motioning to a buftalo robe, while he sat down upon a bearskin. Silently burt Bernard oheyed ». Aller an instant of thought, the ied Rider said: BILL STORES. +4 “Burt Bernard, I have long waited and hoped for this moment, when I could be face to face with you.” “Why, may I ask?” “Because I cherish against you feelings of the intensest revenge.’ Burt Bernard turned a shade paler, but asked, calmly : “How have I wronged you?” ““Bitterly ; but never mind what you have done, as it all depends now upon what you will do, to save your life and your money.” “What is it you demand of me! “lL believe you have a daughter ?” Burt Bernard started, and said, in a low tone: “What of het ?” “Her name is Helen?” Ves: “Named after an old love, whose name was Helen Tracey? “Who are you, man?” “It matters not; is she as beautiful as was Helen Tracey. “You knew Helen, then?” quickly cried the prisoner. Yes “Again 1 ask, who are you?’ Without noticing the remark ma our daughter is at a beheve? “She has just graduated.” “She is your heiress?’ “Ves.” a “You love her very dearly?” “Above all else in the world. ° “More than your riches?’ TY es. “More than your life ?’’ UV Gee . ou wish to see her happy?” ‘Above all things.” “She must marry, then.” “Marry? Why, she’s but a child.” “She is eighteen ; the same age Helen ee was when she cast you off for your rival, Hugh Arleigl 1; by the way, what ever became of poor Arleigh? a Burt Bernard turned livid, but he had schooled himself well to self-control, and answered, in an indifferent way: “He failed, and then disappeared, I believe.” ‘Poor fellow! Now tell me if your daughter has ever, loved any one?” “No. >? ‘Well, she must marry.” ‘You are bold, sir, and- “Now be careful, for out here a life is of hardly any consequence, and you might lose yours. Hear my de- Me and “We Il: “You must make your will, leaving all you have to your daughter, upon one serie x Namie it, ‘That she marries one I will select for her.” “Vou are an acerirsed fool, ard I will- “No, vou wor't, and | am not an accursed fool.- The one I wish your daughter to marry is a noble fellow, a 5)? the Red Rider went on: _ fashionable boarding-school, | 3? THE BUFFALO gentleman, and he already loves her, does not know who she is.” “Bah! you talk like an idiot; your crimes have turned your head,” said Burt Bernard, sneeringly. “No, I talk sense, and I will prove it. Your daughter was at the opera one night in the city where she attended boarding-scheol, ae it caught on fire.” Vase Bh ; “She occupied a box with several schoolmates and a couple ot her teachers AS. “In the wild fright and confusion all would have been lost but for the act of a young man, who saved them by leading them out by a small window that opened upon Ke roof of an adjoining house?” 66 Yes. 39 “Your! of her preserver ?” “Vas x 99 “Well, that young man was “Ha! you know him, then?’ of do.” — “Well, I am glad to be able to find out who he was; please tell me his name,” eagerly said Burt Bernard. “First, let me say he sat in the orchestra with his father, admiring the beauty of your danghter, and then said she was one he could love. I know, though he “The moment thie fre broke out he made his way. to the . box and saved her and her party. “He did not know who she was, for he left early the next day, but his father met her afterward on the street, ked who she was and found out that she was your ‘aughter. oN ow, he is the young man I teens your daughter shall marry.” | There was that in the face of the Red Rider that proved be would hesitate at nothing to gain his end. Fer an instant Burt Bernard made no reply to the deter- mined demand ofthe Red Rider; then he said, in.a low, firth voice: “TI love my child more than all else in the world, and I will never force her to do that which will render her un- happy.” The Red Rider answered: “Tt will not make her unhappy; she owes her life to the young man, and that is a strong bond, while he already loves “her, I tell you.” “And is your friend?” MeV OG ak “Vhen she will marry a villain.” ‘Ha! do you mean to insult me?” was the angry cry. “How ean I? You are avroad agent, the chict of a hand of devils that are the terror of this country, and your fe is stained with crimes. Being such yourself, what zise can be the man you call your friend ?’’ “Good reasoning, I’ll admit,’ sneered the Red Rider. “But, Burt Bernard; he is not a villain, although I say he is uty friend. He holds an honorable position in life, and (ttle dreams what I am.” ; “Ah! I have your word for it only.” “True, and my word is good. Beware, Burt Bernard, for I know that you are not one to throw censure upon a daughter fainted, and was borne out in the arms _ BLL STORIES: Burt Bernard shuddered, and, as though c hide . emotion, said, quickly : “Well, I refuse your demand.” “No, you do not, for I hold the whip hand of you, You are a rich man; you dug a large sum out of a mine, and by speculation you increased your wealth. You now have with you gold checks amounting to nearly all you are worth, and I know it.” Burt Bernard became livid, and as he passed his hand over his brow he trembled violen tly, while the Red Rider continued : “This money you can take with you to your home, if you agree to ny demand. If not, you shall indorse these gold drafts, and I will kill you, Burt Bernard, and then go on myself and marry your daughter to the one I have selected to be her kusband. Remember, she will lose the fortune you would leave her, marry the man I wish her to, and you will forfeit your life. Now, sir, what will you do: 39? It was evident that Burt Bernard realized most fully the position he was in, and that there was no escape from ‘it. 4 He had already, through an agent, purchased a hand- some home in a pretty Eastern town, and had built castles in the air of the happiness he would enjoy there in the company of his beautiful daughter. But now the cup of hope was snatched from his lips, and death and despair stared him in the face. In utter dejection, he asked: 2 “Who is this young man you would force my daughter to marry ?”’ “Do you agree to give your written consent to my de- mand, and thus be allowed to gO on your way unmo- lested ?” “‘T ean do nothing else, God knows,” anguish. “Write, then, a as I dictate; here are pen, ink and paper.” A portfolio was placed in the hands of the prisoner, and he wrote, in a hesitating way, as the Red Rider dictated: ® he said, in a tone of “CAMP IN THE Mountains, September 1, 18— “J, Burton Bernard, de——”’ “Hold on, sir!’ suddenly cried the Red Rider, in an angry tone. MON ell, sir 27 “You are disguising your hand; no tricks with me, Burt Bernard, for I “know your writing and signature as well as | do my.own.” With a sigh at having been detected, Burt Bernard tore . up the paper and commenced again, and in his natural handwriting: “CAMP IN THE MouNnrTAINS, September 1, 18— I, Burton Bernard, do hereby pledge myself to give to my daughter, Helen, my property only on condition that she becomes the wife of cey “Leave blank space for the name,” interrupted the Red Rider. “Well, it is done.” “Should she refuse,” continued the Red Rider, and Burt THE BUFFALO Bernard wre of my estate ; to a charitapie mouie for e@ other dictated, “then mot one dollar »o to her at my death, but all be willed old men and women. “And I also, pledge myself that the marriage of my ‘daughter and the said —-—~- —-— shall take place within the term of one year from date. “Burr Be SRNARD.’ “Now, sir, why did you leave the name out?’ asked Burt: Bernard. ‘ “Simply to keep you in suspense as long you can write it in now,” “Well ? “Tt is the name of the son of your old rival” “What! the son of-——’ “Of Hugh Arleigh.” “Good God!” In. amazement Burt Bernard sprang to his feet paced to and fro At last the Red Ri “Do you object “Hueh Arleigh said Bernard. Ves. dP “Which one of therm is it?’ “Orne went to the bad, and is a in Kansas: the other entered officer = on the border.” *Ves: whieh one is it?’ ageited the reply. “Tt is Edwin.’ “He is the oficer ? UVes. “Thank God!" “You know him, then?” “Yes, and b owe him-imy life. child will net be made wre by I folly. But what is this noble io you, an outlaw?” “He is oné that I owe much to, and I, haere wish to return lim some favor. Now we can return to the canyon, and you can continue on with Bob Scott, who drives the eastbound stage, this evening; but fill in the blanks with the name of Edwin Arleigh, while Snake gets our soe Silently, Burt Bernard obeyed. Red Rider folded it up carefully, Ca. forward. Mounting, the two men rode slowly away, while a shrill whistle brought out of the distant timber a dozen mounted hersemen, who followed siowly.on after their leader. as possible ; and der spoke in his quiet way: te the young man?” had two sons, twin brothers, I believe ?’ a gambler somewhere now the army and is a_gallant and breathlessly Burt Bernard d) God be thanked, my her father’s accurse nan, this Edwin ee Taking the paper, the while the Indian led the LP LER Atl GRIP “ON CHA NEW generous reward offered by Fred Ford, the , put the denizens of Becki ive City to think- Me, $ ep ch esilt was they decided that something must | hat he | EL cl aw ae him, eastbound im Dead. Man's an the ort nard BILE SPORES. | 15 and had picked him the end of his drive. But the Red Ridérs had been nowhere visible. Burt Bernard had had little to say of his visit to the agents, brit had said they numbered over a dozen, for he had seen that number. On his way back Bob Scott had been halted, and sev- eral of the passengers had been robbed by the daring eap- tain of the Red Riders, whose men, as usual, sat on their horses looking on. As Gambler Grit had not returned, the mysterious boy t the Beehive Palace seemed to grow nervous, and, as surke Halford was going to mount his box to go eut on the eastern drive, he stiddenly c called out : “Tt will go with you, Mr. Halford.” “Better not, kid,’’ was the answer ; times.” “I do not feel any fear, and if you will kindly wait a moment I will accompany you,” was the response. In a couple of minutes the boy ran out and mounted to the box by the side of Burke Halford. With a crack of his whip, Burke sent the team flying down the road, and the coach disappeaféd from sight, while those who frequented the dominions of Spirit Dick gossiped over the probabilities of new adventures to be met with on the run to the next station, and wondered wh y the boy had risked his life by going. “Tf ther Riders show ’emselves, ‘pards, ther kid will be heerd from,” remarked a miner, and in this opinion all se ence to agree. ce the meantime the coach rolled eye Of) eae driver was pleased to have the boy at his side, and the pleased look on the face of Burke Halford did not change until Dead Man's Canyon camein sight. Then he became serious, ceased chatting with his com- panion, took his reins well in hand, and drove on without a word. The echoes of the alone broke the silence. mal canyon, with all inside quiet and dreading, two on the box calm and fearless. Through the shadowy conyon it passed, and Burke Hal- ford gave a deep sigh of relief. teu certainly expected trouble that time,” Ford, turning to him. “T sartinly “did : but it’s got ter come yit,” ous answer. “Do you mean that they will waylay us at some other place?” “Oh, no; thet is thar place fer diviltry; but I means thet in ther Dead Man’s Canyon I'll yit pass in my checks,” he said, sadly. “Nonsense! they will mot kill you, if you halt when told 3s up and carried him on with him to da BR ok “these is dangersome hoof-falls and the roll of the wheels Then the stage entered the dis- and the said Fred was the seri- t-glove Jerry an’ Brandt Hastings hes both you knows thet Bob Scott an’ me is both as t’other drivers ain’t anxious ter foller es itle ne under, an’ in’ double duty, he heur road.” “Well, if you believe you will lose your life here, why do vow net give up the position and take something elser” “Paint no use ter try ter dodge death; he’ find ‘ver out wharever ver may go. an’ thar is suthin’ heur tells me thet he are hot on my trail.” abl 16 THE BUFFALO “Vou have a presentiment of evil?” “Vas; same as poor Vint, ther messenger, did. It come true on him, an’ will do ther same on me.” “Ton’t feel that way, Mr. Halford,” said the boy, in a cheering, kindly tone. “T can’t give it ther shake, kid; I only wishes [ c’u'd. We won’t talk of it now, but upon some cheerful topic as will make us laugh.” ‘ “Vou will let me return on the box with you, Mr. Hal- ford?” the boy asked, after a time. “Nary man ain’t lookin’ fer a seat up heur now, kid, an’ you'll be welcome to it. Thar hes but one man rid on ther box o’ any of our hearses o’ late, an’ thet were the chap they calls Buffalo Bill. Did yer see him?” “Yes, and he is a very dashing, handsome man.” _. “Yer is right, an’ ef he ain't a good one, I lies fer de- light in it. He drives better than I does ter-day, an’ thet ate sayin’ much, fer I ain’t no slouch. Thar will be some- body in Beehive as will tackle him some day an’ find they hes bit off more than they kin chaw, as they did with Grit, ther Gambler.” “And who is this Grit, the Gambler, asked Fred, with sudden interest. “He are a good one, from Goodonesville, a keerd-shuf- fler, but clean grit, and squar’ in dealin’ with them as needs sympathy, but a terror ter others.” “Tt seems to me I should like to drive a stage coach,” the boy remarked, after a minute of silence. Somewhat to his surprise, Burke handed him the reins. After an instant the old stage driver cried, with amazed delight : “Waal, ef yer isn’t a driver from Driversville call me a ‘njun; yer is ther boss driver I ever See.” He gazed with admiration-as the boy sent the team at a ‘apid pace over a really dangerous road, and with a skill that was marvelous. In fact, Burke never again took the reins until the stage rolled into the station at the end of his drive. Mr, Halford?” CHAPTER XTY, THE SHADOW OF DEATH. “Thet feelin’ o’ gloom grows on me, kid.” It was the first remark made by Burt Halford for over a mile, as the stage rolled along on its return trip to Bee- hive City, and he sat on his box, with Fred Ford by his side. “For shame, Mr. Halford; you said you would not get hlue,’”’ the boy answered. “Can’t help it, kid; I are not afeered to die, though | isn’t pining fer it ter come arter me. I enjoys life as it ure, an’ w’u’d be content ter count some more years afore _{ has ter pass in my chips. But, then, the shadow o’ death are on me, I knows, an’ ther nearer I gits ter ther Dead \lan’s Canyon, ther deeper ther shadow grows.” “Will you de me a favor, Mr. Halford?” suddenly asked the boy. “T will, kid.” “Then, feeling as you do, get into the coach and let me drive through the canyon, for you know that I can.” “T know thet yer kin drive to ther taste o’ any one, but Burt Halford ain’t ther man ter leave ther post o’ duty when he thinks death are comin’ ter occupy it.” BILL STORIES. “Only for this once, and then, my word for it, this pre- sentiment of death will pass away,” the boy urged. \ “No, kid; thar be in ther inside o’ this hearse four pil- grims, an’ I c’u’dn’t look ’em in ther face ef I was ter duck my head inside. So I sits right on this box.” — “Well, let me drive through the canyon, then?” , “Vas; I'll do thet fer yer; but when ther word comes ter halt an’ hands up, yer must stop, fer 1 w’u’dn’t hev yer hurted fer ther world.” . The boy made no reply, but grasped the reins, changed his seat to the right of the box, and sent the team ahead at a more lively pace. ‘ Into the canyon the coach rolied at a rapid gait, and the shadows of the overhanging trees were upon them. “There they is, kid!’ _It-was Burke Halford that spoke. Glancing ahead, the boy saw four horsemen blocking the road ahead, and a quick look behind showed as many more just entering the canyon and following. Setting his teeth, he took a firmer grasp of the reins, and chirped to the horses to quicken their pace. “Halt! hands up, or die!” There was no mistaking the ringing voice, or the de- termination to carry out the threat if the order was dis- obeyed. . The notice taken of it by Fred Ford was to bring the whip suddenly down upon the horses, and to cry to them to go, in a tone that made them bound forward at full speed. 7 “Great God, kid, you'll be kilt,” shouted Burke Halford. 7 He leaned forward to seize the reins, when there came a shart report, and, with a cry, he fell from the box, di- rectly down upon the backs of the wheel horses, that, startled by the blow, sprang madly forward, forcing those in advance into a terrific pace. Though seeing the brave driver shot from his box, and hearing the crushing sound as the wheels went over his body, Fred Ford did not lose his presence of mind for an instant. Arising, he held the reins in one hand, while with the | other he drew a revolver and fired upon the captain of th Red Riders, who was just riding down into the canyon. Surprised at the act, the Red Rider captain reined his horse suddenly back. But he did not fire, although his revolver, that had just killed poor Halford, was thrust forward. Then, strange to say, he allowed the stage to dash away through the canyon, and gave’a shrill whistle as a signal to his men ahead, causing them to seek safety in the tim- ber. CHAPTER XV. BUFFALO BILL GOES TO DEAD MAN’S CANYON. Having once determined to run the gantlet of the Red Riders, Fred Ford urged the horses on with loud cries. and -sent several shots after the retreating horsemen as they disappeared in the timber. Seeing the driver fall from the box, and having all felt the shock as the wheels dashed over him, the passengers believed that they would be dashed to pieces if they were not shot by the Red Riders, and were in no enviable posi- tion. pre- pil- luck Mes r yer ige d oad poet Has) D = iA .e' oO SSS Sep ford. CAME 1 the f the" nl. d his Red cries, nas ] felt agers were posi- THE BUFFALO | Hearing the shots fired by the boy, one of them glanced put of the stage window and looked up and down the can- yon. & Pards,” he cried, excitedly, “ther Riders hes got, an’ e is gittin’, fer ther horses is runnin’ away, an’ yit ther d are a-holdin’ onto their ribbons fer all he is worth.” P- Then he called: ; Shall’ I telp. yer, kid 2” ‘No; I can manage them,” was the short reply. The determination, half formed, to climb out on the box as checked, fcr the passenger did not like the flashing res turning upon him. But that the boy spoke the truth he soen discovered, for e horses were kept 1 in the road, every deep rut and large ek was skillfully avoided, and, ae the team went fly- ig along the mountain road at a break-neck pace, it was ident that they were held well in hand by the driver. Up and down the trail, around the mountain side, and en straight for Beehive City they went, their necks retched, their nostrils panting and their hides white with sweaty foam. Yet. when they slackened their speed, there was heard _ by the fees the shrill chirp and cry of the driver, n followed the crack of the whip as the “silk” was laid and ail knew that it was to be a run clear into the sta- m of Beehive City. “At last the loafers and gossips heard the ringing hoofs, d a.crowd guickly gathered in front of the hotel to dis- ver why Burke Halford was coming in at such break- ck speed. “It ain't Buffalo Bill a-drivin’ ur, . said one. Whoever it are, he do be makin’ ther critters fly,”’ re- sonded another. F Fiere he comes!” The ery burst from a dozen throat ll sight swept the six horses. Then another cry broke from ce a shouted : kid is driving! ‘Yas, Burke are not on the box,” said Nat Spencer, and breathless silence all waited as the stage came on at a undering pace. “Stop em, or they’ ‘ll bu’st ther heat se an’ kill ther kid m ther pilgrims.” “An’ ther pilgrims is anxious accordin’,” cried a voice, all saw two heads looking anxiously out of each win- w of the coach. b : “Hold on! the kid has the team in hand!’ cried Boss oniface, as the crowd surged about, as if to try and eck the ane team. He saw what the others then discerned, that though at speed. the team was held in hand. he next minute up came the six horses at a run. Then e young driver gave a strong tug on the reins. his small, atly booted foot went down hard on the brakes, and he this time, fer he are in chorus, and into the crowd, and Boss Boni- “said, firmly and sharply: “\Whoa 7? | With a suddenness that bumped the heads of the pas- ngers together, though this was Ho complained of, as it as at last a halt, the coach stopped r Willing hands grasped the bits of the horses, while Fred BILL STORIES. 17 Ford sprang nimbly from his lofty perch to the ground, and was half caught by Boss Boniface, who cried, eagerly : “Well done, kid ; oa where is Burke?” “Lying back in Dead Man’s Canyon,” was the reply, in a trembling’ voice. “Dead? “Ves.” “And by “The captain of the Red Riders killed him.” “Didn’t he halt when ordered ?” “He was not driving.” “He was not driving?” “No, I held the reins, and thought we could run through, and we did, but poor Mr. Halford was shot, and, falling before the wheels, was run over. Then I drove on and the Red Riders let us pass.” “They did fer a fact. Ther kid skeert them, as bad as he skeert us a-racin’ over ther mount’ins; but I is obleeged to yer, kid, all ther same, as I hed a leetle dust with me ther Riders didn’t git. Yer hes a noble backbone, an’ ther devil hesn’t got more grip then you hes.” ‘This was said by one of the passengers, who came for- ward and offered his hand, which the boy grasped frankly. The passenger who had spoken was the one who had offered his services to the boy aiter Burke Halford’s death. Now he continued: “As yer saved my dust, I are willin’ ter drink yer good health, so, boys, we'll adjine to ther benzine mill an’ liquor up, an’ you, kid, shell hev a bottle 0’ wine ef it costs a twenty- dollar piece, an’ we'll drink to ther pluckiest boy as ‘ever I see.’ The crowd willingly followed the miner, while Boss Boniface accompanied Fred Ford into the hotel, and re- ceived from him a more detailed account of the affair. “We must bury poor Burke, so I’ll get some of the boys and we'll go after his body,’ ” said the kind-hearted pro- prietor of the Beehive Palace. “And I will accompany you, for I wish to try the horse I purchased of you,” said the boy. | “Tt’s a dangerous trip, for we may Riders.” “You forget that I have just met them.” “Yes, that is so. I will have the horse saddled for you. When Boss Boni ace went to call together a company of volunteers to go after the body of the slain driver, he was met by Buffalo Bill, who said, quietly : “Mr. Boniface, I have just learned of the last attack on the coach, and am going to bring the body of poor Hal- meet the Red “ford ine: “We will be glad to have you go with us, Cody,” said the landlord. A was just starting to look up volunteers.” “Pardon me,” said the scout, “but I prefer to go alone, and beg that you leave the matter to me.’ “Well, you can do as you please, for I have nothing more to say; only take care of yourself.” “Trust me for that, pard,”’ reassured Buffalo Bill, with a light laugh. Then minutes after he rode away aieue in the direction of Dead Man’s Canyon. Ten minutes after his departure a boy followed on ie trail. 18 THE BUSRALG That boy was Fred Ford, mounted on a fine roan mare he had bought fram “ther boss 0’ ther Palis,” as “the boys”-ealled Boss Boniface. : CHAPTER XVI- A BOY'S HEROIS M, ys Among the “baggage” which Buffalo Bill had brought with him to Beehive City was a very handsome Texas sad- dle, horse-hair bridle and lariat, and, with these very neces- sary atticles upon the border, he was not very long ia finding a good horse to put them on. With his hotel duties Boss Boniface combined the busi- ness of horse trading, and le had several very fine ani- mals on hand. One of these he sold to Fred Ford for a good price, and a second, a dark buckskin with white tail and mane, Bui- falo Bill fancied sufficiently to pay a good round sum for. On trying the animal, the scout found him full of met- tle, swift and with bottom. enough to last him many long miles over a hard country. _. This horse the scout had named Buckskin Chief, and it was this horse that he mounted and rode away on io get the body of poor Halford; and it was Roan Rocket, his purchase from Boss Boniface, which Fred Ford had ridden on the trail of Buffalo Bill, Buffalo Bill was splendidly armed, and he looked like a man capable of rendering a good account of himself in any danger he might meet. As for Fred Ford, he wore a handsome suit of buckskin, elaborately beaded and trimmed with dyed quills. It fitted his graceful form to perfection, and with slouch hat and plume, he certainly made a handsome rider. Around his slender waist was a belt containing a pair of silver-mounted revolvers, and the reader has already seen that he had the pluck to use them. “Strange that I should follow Buffalo Bill,” he mut- tered, as he rode into the timber, several hundred yards behind the scout. | Then, after a moment, he added: “But I cannot help it. and that something I must obey; at least I will obey it, come what may.” : Again he rode on in silence for a few minutes, and then Said: “I fired to frighten him, for I did not want to kill him.” That the boy referred to his firing upon the Red Rider captain his next words proved, for, in the same half-aloud tone, he muttered: ; “T do not believe it was he, though there was something in the air and form like him. Tf it was, he has grown larger and stouter. Well, I shall soon know.” Feeling that he was dropping too far behind Buffalo Bill, he rode on at a faster gait, until he felt that the scout could not be far ahead. As he drew his horse down to a walk once more he sud- denly halted, for there was heard a voice, crying: “Ha! ha! we have you now, Buffalo Bill!” There was no shot fired, no outcry, no answer to the tri- umphant words. Without a moment’s hesitation, Fred Ford. urged his ‘roan into a run, and, keeping upon the mossy bank, dashed Something tells me to do so, hive City. Silt STORES: : upon a scene where, at a glance, he saw the presence of a brave man was uteedéd to help a comrade in distress. Fortunately, the mossy bank deadened the hoof-tails of the roan, and the presence of the boy was not discovered, The scene that now met the gaze of Fred Ford was one that would have deterred many a bold man. The road at that point wound around a rocky point of a ull. Half-concealed in the bushes, two rien had been seated, evidently having halted for a rest, as back in the ittle glen behind them théir horses were feeding, held by lariats. . “Pard,”’ said one, before Buffalo Bill came in sig guesses we oughter be near ther city.” “Yes, it cannot be far away, from the account given us at the station we last left,” answered the other. This last speaker was a man of tall, sinewy form, had a 3 meat slender waist, and broad shoulders, and every indication of possessing streneth far above the average. He was dressed in a suit of blue cloth, stylishly made, and ornamented with brass buttons, that gave him the look of a soldier; but the buttons bore no mark upon them to designate that he belonged to either army or navy. His hat was a black slouch, ericircled by a tarnished gi!: cord, and his boots were drawn over his pants and arme:! with brass spurs, Under his sack coat was visible a belt of arms, and 2 pair of pistols were to be seen in the holsters of fis sad- dle, their silver-ornamented butts glittering in the 9% Aliant, as the horse, a handsome sorrel, moved.about in search ot juicy morsels of grass. The face of the man was a study, for the features were finely chiseled, the brow bold and full of intellect, and the eves piercing and expressive, but upon all rested a mask of passions ungoverned. Yet the man seemed tobe proud of his personal appear- ance, as he curled his long n,ustache with his fingers one instant, and then passed his hand caressinely through his long, dark hair, which fell upon his shoulders. ~The other man was brutish in appearanes Yet the two were strangely alike in one fellow-feeling held them together. : Need I say that this bond was in having du. ...oi nattires that were fully akin, the one to the other? . “Is yer sartin, cap’n, thet ther scout is at Beehive’ asked the rougher of the two men. “Yes; or there is some one there strangely ike him, and going under his name.” a “Which name, cap’n, for he hes been called Pa-e-has-ka by ther Injuns, Buffalo Bill, and other thines.”’ s “He is called Buffalo Bill here, and it is Buffale Bil! - you are paid to kill,” was the stern response. "Oh, DH do it, cap’; I loves ter let blood, ef ther pay is prime, an’ I will say yer is generous ; but does yer not a horse a-comin’ ?” : _ “Yes; some one is coming from the direction of Ha! there he comes, and, by the heavens above, it is: Buftalo Bill!’ “Cap’n, we is in luck. Ill just take a bead on him with my rifle, and drop him slick as grease.” “No; I prefer to take him alive, and then, after. I has toyed with him, as the cat does with the meuse, I Bee- TL can kill him,” and the face ef the man was fiendish in its hatred. PAE BUR EALGO “They say he are a screamer. We mout cotch ther rong feller ter play with, cap’n’ AT risk it. Move, and give me room to throw my asso.: Sil ently the man cee ed. A moment aiter the lariat was skillfully thrown, and the moose settled down upon the shoulders of Buffalo Bill, and The was dragged from his saddle, falling heavily, as his “frightened horse dashed forward. With his arms pinioned as they were, and partially unned by the fall, before Buffalo Bill could arise to his eet his two foes had slipped down the rock and were ipon him. And it was from the lips of one came the triumphant cry Mthat had reached the ears of Fred Ford, 4 “Kent Cameron, you have me at last,” Icoolly, as he recognized his captor. “Ves. and I intend to keep the oath I made to kill you, Buffalo Bill, for had it not been for you, I would have to- Nday been an honorable man, and been wedded to the one woman | ever loved.” This was the savage answer of the leader of the two nen. | You he as usual, for you cannot tell the truth. You were a dishonored dog before I ever saw you Tat) & lhe ae expression escaped from the lips of Butfalo Will, as he suddeniy saw a horse dashing up to the spot, and heard the ring of two shots. The «horseman was Fred Ford. "Then, in a quiet way, as he saw the two men prone upon he ground, stricken down by his bul lets, he said : “Well, Mister Cody, you seem to be in trouble.’ NO, IT am not in the slightest trouble, thanks to your ‘timely aid,”’ was the reply. “You were ambushed ?” “Ves, and jerked from my saddle with this lariat with “which I am bound. Had it not been for you, ' have been on my last trail, as that man would have killed ne. “You know him, then?” the boy inqt wired. “Oh, yes; he is an old foe. I kept him from marrying a lovely girl, by exposing his villainy.. Then he was dis- missed on the army, in which he was a captain, and _swore to kill me for having ruined him. It seems he ‘passed in his checks first. You are a good shot. But don’t it seem to be unwise for a boy to be riding so far from town alone?” “Not so much, it seems, as for a man, as I have met with “no danger ; but stand nearer my horse and I will untie that lariat.” Buffalo Bill obeyed. Finding the knots rather strongly tied, the boy slipped te the eround and used his sharp teeth. As the boy bent thus to his work neither he nor Buffalo Bill saw one of the forms upon the ground noiselessly arise »and then bound away. But both heard the man spring into the thicket and saw him disappear. The boy drew his pistol and sent several shots flying after the escaping prisoner, while Buffalo Bill called to him to take his knife and sever the lariat. As soon as the scout was free he caught up his belt of arms and darted up the side of the rock, just in time to said Buffalo Bull, { should Bil BLOKUS. 1° see Kent Cameron mount his horse and ride down the glen like the wind, unhurt by the shots sent after him. ‘le has escaped, and I have no horse to follow Sau said the. scout. “Take mine, or shall I give chase myself?” cried the boy. ‘Oh, no; you have already placed yourself in too great danger. Ah, I forgot ; this fellow must have had a horse,’ if Buffalo Bill again ran to the top of the rock and caught sight of the aad that had belonged to the #fffian. “{nstantly he approached him, and soon led him out into the trail. “He is about on a par with his master, for he is a sorry beast,” he said, with a smile. ‘Hark !” At this word from the boy both listened attentively, and. heard a horse coming rapidly toward them, “It may be Buckskin Chief returning,” said Buffalo Bill. TSO. something or some one has started him back. Yes it is my horse,” Hurrying forward, Buffalo Bill met the animal, and with little trouble caught him. “Now,” he said, speaking to the boy, “I will follow on the trail of Kent Cameron, and I beg you to return at once to Beehive City, and tell Boss Boniface to send after the body of Halford, the driver, and why I did not goon. As they come by here they can put this fellow under bint for he is human, and T don’t wish the wild beasts to tea him to pieces. To this the boy made no reply. Taking his silence as consent, Buffalo Bill mounted Buckskin Chief, and, handing the boy the rein of the sorry-looking horse ridden by the de vad ruffian, dashed away on the trail of Kent Cameron. Watching him until he was out of sight, the boy mut- tered : “Now I understand the motive that prompted me to follow him, and I saved his life by so doing. But Pil not go back to Beehive City until I find out what was done with the body of that brave driver. Come along, sir, for T may need you.” Dragging the led horse after him, Fred Ford rede on down the trail toward Dead Man’s Cany ron. CHAPTER XVIL- THE MEETING IN THE CANYON. After a ride of half an hour and a thorough taxing of his patience to the utmost by the contrary disposition of the horse he was leading, Fred Ford came in sight of Dead Man’s Canyon. Waching: to be free for flight or fight, he tied the led horse. to a sapling, and with the reins in hand, and a drawn revolver, rode cautiously forward. Soon he came to the spot where he knew the stage had been halted, and, drawing rein, glanced searchingly around. The place was still as the grave, and nowhere was the body of Burke Halford to be seen. Where could it be? Had he not been killed, and managed to escape? The boy asked himself the question. No, that was impossible. He had seen the ee driver 20 THE BUFFALO fall in a heap upon the backs me the wheel horses, amd had heard the heavy coach wheels crushing over his body . Had the Red Riders buried him? That was a question which search only would answer. lf they had buried him, why had they done so, when they seeméd to be men without hearts? Slowly the boy rode around in his searfch, and pres- ently €ame toa halt at the base of a rock. There, #4 a mossy bank, was a new-made grave, ca fully shaped into a mound, and evidently the work a some careful hand, or a a kindly one. At one side of the grave stocd a small tree, with smooth bark, and upon the trunk, skillfully cut out with a knife, Fred Ford read: “BURKE HALFORD, “x STAGE DRIVER OF THE OVERLAND, “killed Sept. 5th, 18, by the Captain of Red Riders, “And buried by “The oné that took his life, “Who Feopect ted his unflinching courage. “Peace to his ashés.” “Well, I am glad to sée the Red Rider captain has a heart.” Thus thought the boy. And then he sat in silence gaz- ing sadly down tipon thé grave of the hoblé stagé drivér, for if Burke Halford had a few faults his virtties out- weighed thern. Wiping away tears, that unbidden came into his eyes, Fréd Ford turned his horse away from the grave and rode back toward where he had hitched the other “anirnal. _ “Vhat grave, at the hands of a foe, is a more fitting tribute than a monument by friends of poor Halford,” he muttered, showing that his thoughts were still with the dead. Thus lost in reverie, he did not see a hatseman who was crouching against the side of a rock; hoping, seemingly that the boy would pass him by, for he had reined his horsé back under the shadow of the cliff and held him there motionless. From his attitude it was evident that the coming of the’ the clit. hoy had surprised® him, for he had just descended ‘mountain side by a narrow path that led around the One act of his was a strange one. oe seeing the ‘ boy, he had started suddenly and turhed dead! y pale, while hé dragged the rim of his hat far down over his eyés, at Same time thrusting forward a revolver as tho: ugh io Fe: But the eyes of Fred Ford were as keen as an eagle’s, and, in spite of his moody reverie, he caught sight of ‘ ee of horse and rider. _ The canyon was darkened by the overhanging recks, with their heavy fringe of trees, and but dimly could he see that one who was perhaps a foe was near. Believing, however, that it could be none other than a Red Rider, he put his hand upon his pistol, but hesitated at the stern command: “Hold! boy though you are, I will kill you if you draw that weapon.’ ihe “Whe ate you?” Fred asked, with all the coolness he could command, though he reirained from avian bis BILL STORIES. pistol, seeming to understand that the man had made no idle threat. “Who I] am matters not f6 you; ride on 1f you would save your lite,’’ was the stern answer. “T would see the captain of the Red Rider outlaws, Fred Ford’s answer. “Then him in his haunts,” was the gruff response, “Then you aré not a Red Rider? a “I am one who will kill you, if you do not ride on.’ “As I don’t care to be shot down like a dog, and you have the drop on me, in frontier parlance, I will obey,” he answered, with spirit. Then he moved his horse slowly forward. As he did so he tried to get a better look at the horseman. But the shadow of the ov erhanging rock and a few leaves of a branch overhanging him, hid the man quite Sse ita and Feed kept on his way, evidently disappointed and angry with himself, for. he muttered : ay mus st keep my eyes open hereaiter. a ing the rein oi the horse e of the dead rufhan, hi nined not to be worried by leading him, sc termed im loose, and drove him on before on the trai back t “Beeli ive "City, the horseman tinder the shadow of the cl oie watching until the boy was out Gf sight. Then the man uttered a deep sigh and rode out in canyon, while a his shut teeth caine the words: “Great God! what an escape!” As the man said this he came more fully on glare falling through the top of the canyon, ang |) some face of Grit, the Gambler, was distinc tly 3 cee WO a to the CHAPTER XVIII. GN..THE WARPAT HS ‘red Ford had arrived within a nile of Beehive | heard the élatter of hoofs. He was at éricé on guard, for he knew not what danger he had to * Seon in sight dashed 4 party of twaseore and at their head he recognized Boss Bomiface be é Hotel. ae they saw the boy, they gave vent fo three rotising cheets, and dashing up, camé to a sudden halt, while the Boss called out: “We are after you, kid, and are délighted to find you.” “Thank you, Mr. Boniface, but I was not fost,” the bey answéred. “Well, we feared vou w I did not know where youvHad gone, might eet into danger, the bo} you with me. “It was very kind of you, and, perhaps, foolish in me to eo Off by my self, but ] am gla id that I did 50, as it has re- sulted itt good, of whieh f Swill tell you.’ In a few words Fred Ford told the story of his two adventtires. As a result he was gazed upon by the reugh party with undisguised admiration, while many a mide complinient, thou oh not imterded as rudeness, was be- stowed upon hin “Well, 1 declare, you do beat al remarked Boss Boniface. Sa” tle then proposed to tide on, bury the dead tuffian, take a iock at Burke Haliord’s grave, and iearn if the strange W Ren TI City, he rete, as you gotoff very slyly. and fearimg yeu iS \ olvii teered to comié after ll that I ever saw,” bhintly Meliying on the roac THE BUFFALO horseman seen by Fred: Ford in the canyon could be found, or any trace discovered of e uffalo Bill “Twill go with you, if you ee said the boy. “Yes, and be our captain, too, | kid, if you will. A couple ef you bovs start that devilish- -looking brute on toward the city, and then oo us; he may pan out half a hun- dred, kid, after I have had him a shert time in my care,” said i Boss Boniface, referring to the anin rufhan : started én the trail to Beehive City, Jen. the party went on at a gallop for the canyon, “red Ford and Boss Boniface leading and the others soming two by two beh ind while the clatter of the horses’ hoofs awoke many an echo in the mountains as they spe d ong. 3efore very long the bedy of the dead ruffian was found, th iside where Buffalo Bill had thrown it, and some of the men dismounted to eive it a hasty burial. Among these was Nat Spencer, the Kansas friend of Bufialo Bill. He seemed to at once recognize the dead man, for after calmly appropriating the contents of the ruifian’s pockets, which, by the way, panned out con- siderable, not to speak ot a pack of ecards and a flasi of whiskey as vile as the owner, he said, while looking at the ‘boy: | “Kid, ver hes done ther. country service, but appointed ther hangman, iur | knows this feller ‘\Vho is he, Nat?” asked a number ai voices. A. Waal, pards, his acquaintance e hain’t no honor ter me, # 1 admit, fer he are Snoozer Dan, a outer-an “outer des- perado, ready to cut a throat or steal a gold mine, an’ ther Lord be praised that he hev gathered him to ther devil. I guess he died hard, kid, far he hev had a number 0’ wounds afore.” “No, 1 shot him in the brain, and fell like toe: | fired also at the head of his companion,” was the quiet reply of the boy. “Shot hun in ther brain, any brain cozed out o ’ ther 1 he sd. arhy., “But, pards, ef yer hez thet grave dug, we'll consign himi,:an’ don’t hev it Ne deep, as ther devil will want him afore long. Thet’s it; now he’s fixed ontil Gabriel toots ‘ther risin’ hymn. So gymote it be, amen; an’thet are his fun’ral dos No. ” VW hat’ then 2% a will meet you where you are. : “Oh! you will come here.’ “No, indeed, for I know you, Kent “What would you do?” ““Meéet you across the canyon.” “Bah!” said the other, with a sheer. “It is but twenty paces,’’ “Well?” “You are a crack shot.” “But I -have no rifle.” ~ Your pistol will do; mine will reach, if yours does. not.” “Tt will be nothing less than murder.” SY ou. should not wince at that, for you are but an assassin.’ “Curse you, Buffalo Bill, I will meet you; ay, with a knife !” “No, our knives will not reach across; not trust you out of sight. Dismount, sir.” Silently the man obeyed. “Now, step away from your horse!” Again he obeyed. “Place your pistol at your feet!” “What in the name of Satan do you mean?” “Obey 7 “T will not. “Then I shall put a rifle bullet in you.’ “Hold! there is my pistol,’ and thie over, he laid the revolver at his feet. “Now, Kent Cameron, J could shoot you as you stand, for there is no one near to accuse me of murder. But ! spare you, and give you a chance for life, though I know you have tracked me to kill me, and only to-day would have killed me, had you not been prevented by that noble boy.” “Curse you! act, and don’t talk.” "An! Dantend: to act.” “Well, what is your intention?” “To fight a duel with you.” “Yes; with a rifle against a revolver.” “No; revolver against revolver.” Cameron,” besides, 1 THE BUFFALO Kent “You concealing yourself behind that point of rocks.” “No: Iam no coward!” Ate. “What else are you?’ “You shall sée.” owed As Buffalo Bill spoke he stépped aut from the shelter ife, | of the rocks. f Seeing this, Kent Cameron stooped quiékly for pistol. |. “Hold! touch it and you die!” He hesitated, still bending over, and his hand upon weapon. “Rise up, but leave that weapon where it is!” With a muttered oath the man obeyed. Now, sir, I will tell you my plan,” said the scout. vd ai listening, curse you 1 “T shall lay my rifle aside as I pick my pistol up.’ HS other are, ANd] 2” “We will both stand erect, an d 1 will give the word.” “What word?” “Simply the word ‘Now’!’ “Well? “At that word each will stoop for his revolver and begin “You will not use your revolver.” “T will; for if I cared to use my rifle, I could do so now.” : “You will not act fairly.” _-@Dowt.judgé me by yourself, Kent Cameron,” “Well, i am ready.” ~ S(T wis sh you to stand as I do, upon the very edge of the iprecipice.”’ does JM NEY es “Tt will save burying the dead.” “And if one is ‘wounded | he will topple over an id be oa dashed to pie ces on the rocks two hur dre sd feet below "30 be it, for this is a fight to the death, Kent Came- th a “Have your way, for I am in your power.” “J-was in yours this afternoon, and would have received Hot one atom of mercy had you had your way.” “Nor shall you now, 1f I have the power to kill you, for I have not forgotten that you dishonored me.” “You lie! you dishonored yourself, and I merely told ‘our commandant what I knew of you to prevent your narrying a young and innocent girl.” “Curse you, let us end this!” shouted the infuriated ex- pofficer. @ “All right, sir; be on your g ey ow !” aid At the word both men stooped. Dropping his rifle from mis left hand, Buffalo Bill seized his revolver in his left a and arose to a standing posture an instant before his But so great seemed his desire for fair play that he ld waited a second for Kent Cameron, and the pistols flashed a ogether. able A muttered curse broke from the lips of Kent Cameron pat the shot, which showed he was hit, while his bullet flat- tened itself against the rock, not six inches from Buffalo Bill’s head. : ; ‘But instantly the revolvers cracked again and Buffalo PBill’s hat turned half around on his head, as the bullet )passed through it, while Kent Cameron sunk down upon BILL SLORIES. 23 the rocks, lyirig upon the very edge of the precipice, and his horse, alarmed at the shot, galloped away. “A close shavé for me, and death for him; but I must not let him remain unburied. Come, Buckskin, we will have to head this valley and save that fellow from the wolves.” Then, picking up his rifle, Buffalo Bill mounted his horse, that had patiently awaited him, and moved on up the narrow trail around .the mountain side. AS Butfalo Bill approached the spot where he had seen the bedy of Kent Cameron lying when last he looked back down the glen at it, he rubbed his eyes to ascertain if there was not some 2 vee The body was not there What could it ot This question he asked himself over and over again, and answer canie to it. Arriving at the spot, he sprang from his horse and stood looking dow ‘n trpon the rocky path. “Ah, yes, he was not killed at once; and, agony, has gone over the precipice. on the edge of the rock, rubbed it; bottom.” Glancing over fearlessly, eyes fell tipon a dec eep pool of water “Ah, he has fallen into that! Well, it is better than be- ing dashed to pieces on the rocks. He is dead, anyway. i will now look his horse up and then return to Beehive City So saying, Buffalo Bill remounted and rode on down the narrow ‘shelf path. For some distance he went along, and then stopped at a sudden ttirn. After attentively examining said, aloud : “I fear the horse has shared the fate of his master and gone over the precipice. It looks as if he was going rapidly here, and, in trying to stop himself at this bend, was unable to do so.and went over. Yes, there is a piece of rock newly broken off.by his hoof.” Leaning over, Buffalo Bill examined the depths below, | added, quickly: “Why, a stream washes it the horse must have fallen! But it surely killed him, and the swift current hee carried him on down the valley. So. be it; Kent Cameron and his horse are both gone.” With a sigh the se cout again mounted and continued on his way. It was late at night when he rode into Beehive City. After seeing that every attention was bestowed upon the horse that had done him such good service, he wended his way to the quarters of Spirit Dick. His arrival was greeted with a shout of welcome, and a score of calls to tables rang in his ears; but he made his way over to where Boss Boniface and several others sat, and took a seat. “You look rather haggard, Bill,” said the proprietor of Beehive Palace. “T feel haggard, Boss,” “Well, what luck ?* “Tf you consider it luck to kill a lucky.” NiO 1 in a dying Yes, here is blood and there is where his clothes I hope he was dead before he struck the he looked far down. His just beneath his feet. the rocks for a while, he and the base of this cliff, and into he answered, with a smile. man, then I was 24 THE BUFFALO “Oh! you got him, around. “Ves, he swore to take my life, because I thwarted him _ in some deviltry two years ago, and | have reason to know he was coming here on my trail. “We met in a canyon in the mountains, he on one side and I on the other. Here is his first bullet, as flat as a half-dollar, and here is his second shot in my hat.” “And your bullet ?” “T shot for his heart,’’ was the quiet reply, “And found it, too, I’ll warrant,’ said Boss Boniface. Buffalo Bill ade no reply; and a little later retired, with a simple “‘good-night to all.” A short while after, the others followed his example, for Grit, the Gambler, being absent, the gambling fever did not seem to run high. When the saloon was emptied, Spirit Dick doused his light, and Beehive City wert to sleep, excepting a few noisy prowlers, who preferred to make night hideous and sleep by day. : then?” and a number gathered CHAPTER XX. A DEATH SHOT. After the surprise of his unexpected meeting with Fred Ford had died away somewhat, Grit, the Gambler, h heaved a sigh of deep relief, and moved out of the ca anyon. _ Evidently he had been one a search of the locality before, as he turned into a trail leadir ng up into the moun- tains, and slowly pursued it for several miles. At last he paused, and muttered: “Here is as far as I went before; dare I go farther ?”’ For some moments he sat in his saddle, silently med- itating, and then said, abruptly: “Yes, I will go, be the consequences what they may!” Again he rode on, his horse seeming to follow the trail instinctively, while his rider’s tl joughts were far away. Again he rode on, for he had drawn his horse to a halt, as if moved by his feelings; and soon after came to a rocky canyon, leading into the mountains. Flere he paused and glanced cautiously around him, when all of a sudden there rode out of the canyon half a dozen horsemen. One glance was’ sufficient to show him that they were Red Riders. Another glance proved to him that he was gr numbered. ‘ One course was left for him to take, and he took it. Drawing his revolver and firing upon the man nearest to him, he “drove his spurs into his “horse and started to fly. But when his shot took effect, bringing the steed of the Red Rider to the ground, a shot from the enemy also brought down his steed, which: fell heavily, rolling half over ‘him. As soon as he could extricate himself from his stirrups, for he was not much hurt, he sprang to his feet and con- fronted the man whom he had dismounted, and who had ‘rushed upon him. A loud cry, like one of fright, Hoke from the lips of the Red Rider captain, for he it was, and he.started back like a man about to fly for his life. But Grit, the Gambler, fired, and the Red Rider meas- ared his length upon the ‘ground, eatly out- BILL STORIES: Grit, the Gambler, turned to run, as he expected a rush upon him from the other Red Riders ; but ae horses had halted, and like statues they remained inactive, ap- parently awaiting an order from their fallen chief. Another circumstance checked the flight of Grit, Gambler, the _and it came in a cry from the prostrate Red Rider captain, “Stay! you are in no danger! I swear it.” Grit, the Gambler, paused, “glanced at the silent mounted Red Riders, and then at their chief. Then, as though having made up his mind, and with a revolver in each “hand, he walked slowly toward the man this shot had brought down. The Red captain raised himself slowly upon one elbow. The effort seemed to give him great pain, for he groaned and gritted his teeth; but, having gained an easier posi- tion, he said, savagely : “Do you know that you have given me my death wound?” “So be it; those who dvett along the Overland a will rejoice,” was the indifferent reply. “Ever the same; heartless and cruel you will ever be, Allan.” The gambler started as his name was spoken, and asked, quickly : “Who are yeu that calls me by name ?”’ “This mask hides who I am.” Shall | remove ite “Yes; but I warn you, the face will sta) « ¢ “I am no child, to be frightened by a hice =s (2c, gambler answered, recklessly, “Ha! ha! ha! you are plucky; but I'll see you tremble when you look on me. Quick! remove this mask, for your bullet in my side renders me too weak.” In spite of his nerve, the words of the Red Rider im- pressed the gambler, and it was with some hesitation he stepped closer and undid the fastening of the mask. Slowly he removed it. Then the cry that; ours: : his lips could have been heard far away. “Ha! ha! ha! what did I tell you, boy?’ . “Father! Good God! can this indeed be yous” groaticu the young man, gazing with horror upon the face before him. “Yes, 1am Hugh Arleigh, your father, boy !’ The gambler appeared to bestruck dumb, Recovering, as 1f by an effort, he said: “T see it, now; and you have come to this, father?” “Why not?” a Red Rider !” Pit ois a case of: uke father, like son. morality, Allan, for it does not set well on you,” the wounded man. “My God! who would have believed it of you?’ “Bah! little did I believe that you, my son, Nowe | be- come as vile as you have become.” ' “Circumstances made me what I am.” “That is right, damn circumstances, when your own evil nature led you to the bad.” “It seems that I inherit it, when I look at you,” was the retort. “By Heaven, vou did not! I was an honorable man until a short while ago. Then, to pay your ‘gambling debts, and to save your neck iro the gallows, I spent LLiC Don’t preach sneered THE BUFFALO Iso much money I became cramped in business and failed. ‘But I did not despair! Oh, no! I had pluck enough to iseek the gold fields and go to work with pick and shovel.” “And you dug only earth and rock, so turned to rob- bing!” sneered the ‘son. “Vou He, sitet “Ah! your wound is not mortal, I judge!” “Tt is; and 1, your father, die by the hand of a son.’ The gambler turned deadly pale, and set his lips, Shite this father continued : } “I found in the mines an old boyhood friend, and he Ishared with me his cabin and food. “One day L struck it rich. That gave me the gold ever, and J went mad, I believe. “In that condition, wild at my rich find, my partner ound me, and it crazed his brain, too. “He had worked for years in the mines and dug out pnly a pittance, while I’ had found a’ fortune. in a few reeks. “He remembered, too, that I was his successful rival in boyhood, and he seized me in his arms, carried me out into he black, storming night and hurled me into a seething orrent. “Instead of dying, strangled to death, the cold water evived me, and cooled my fever-racked brain. “Then I made a struggle for life. I was a good swim- mer, and at last I reached the shore, but utterly ex- austed. “Thus the following morning I chief. | “Once in the mountains, I had saved his life from some drunken miners, and he recognized me. “Carrying me to his lonely tepee, for he had no kin- dred, he nursed me back to health. | ‘Then I became revengeful, for it was long months ‘before I regained my strength. “Seeking my false friend, I found that he had dug large ‘quantities of gold from my mine, then sold it, and had gone to Denver. “T had some little gold hidden away in a rock, and with this I went to the city, disguised myself, and paid a Mexican to aid me in my deadly work, “But, though J attacked him, and drove my knife into his breast, he did not die, and my Mexican tool was killed by a young man who came to his aid. “T fled from the sity, and almost moneyless ane driven to desperation, I came here and turned to robbing the Overland stages.” “While your false friend revels in your wealth?” “Yes, but I have seen him since.” “Where ?” “Right back yonder in my camp. I captured him, though he had a fortune with him, I let him go.” “Strange.” “No; . made him sign a pledge to marry his daughter , to my Honorable son, your broth her Edwin.” a “Ha! they were lovers, then?’ “No O. “What then?” “The girl never spoke to Edwin, but he saved her life, and learned to love her, and thus I do him one favor, and he gets Burt Bernard’s property, which was mine, and a lovely wife, too.” vas found by a Ute and BILL STORIES: 25 “Ah! I see; you have provided well for my most vir- tuous of brothers. But what have you done for me?’ The face of the young gambler was black with jealous rage. “T leave you my band of Red Riders.” “By the Lord! but I’ve a mind to accept my legacy.” “Do so, Allan, for your taste lies in the track of crime and dishonor.” “You. are a ee father.” Ty am truthful and just, my son.” a believe you are right,” "You accept your inheritance, then?” Ves) een bl ow a minute.” Grit took the silver whistle and obeyed. Instantly it was answered by a distant war whoop, and a moment after the Indian, Stinging Snake, came to the spot on a run. “Chief, I have been wounded.” “Sorry ; where Red Rider foe? I kill him.” “No, he has gone; and as I am dying, I wie to leave you to the care of my son.’ “This white chief’s son?” The Indian looked fixedly at the gambler, who an- swered, with a sneer: “Ves, I have that misfortune.” Unheeding the insulting remark, Hugh Arleigh con- tinued, ina low voice, for it was evident that he was sink- ing fast: Yes, Snake, he is my son, and he will be your chief; so tell him all that you know about the band.” “Oh, the. Indian is your lieutenant, or aide, in prefer- ence to your white comrades; or are they all redskins, as I cannot tell under their crimson masks ?” “The chief will tell you all; and tell you where the spoils of my robberies are hidden.” “Tam glad to: know the exchequer is not empty,’ he light answer. “No; you will have a good sum of money to gamble away. Now, leave me with the Indian, for I have done my duty toward you. ‘As you please; good-by, and present my Eocoplenents to my grandfather, ‘the devil.” was the heartless reply. With a bitter laugh the young gambler turned away, and began to take his saddle and bridle from his fallen steed. When he had done so, and once more approached his father, he saw that he was dead. He started back as he beheld the sightless eyes staring him in the face, and for the first time remorse drove its poniard into his soul, and the iron entered deep. Back through the vista of years he went, back to his happy boyhood, when that father had been all that a father could be to him; and, with a groan of anguish, wrung from his inmost heart, he sunk down by the dead form and burst into tears. ’ on this whistle one long, loud blast of half Stinging was CHAPTER Xx, BUFFALO BILL’S PLUCK, When the stage horses were led out for the trip, the morning following the death of Burke Halford, the stable BUFFALO THE Boys stood w aiting and wondering why no driver mounted the box. It is true that Burke Halford and two other of the most popular manipulators of the reins had been killed; but there were others to take their places, and these were the ones who were wanted just then. : “Where is Steel-grip Charlie?” called out Boss Boni- face, as the time passed for leaving. ‘He hain’t showed up, sir,” answered a stable boy. “Well, where is Tim Luther ?” “He’s missin’, too, Boss.” “And Hank Hutchins ?” oni know, sir.” “Well, go after those three drivers, and tell them I wish them to report here at once, as it was their duty to do,. knowing Halford had been killed.” “Guess that’s > just the reason why,” muttered a stable boy, as he darted away to obey the bidding. z , g In a short while the three “‘extras”’ ance. sullen and ‘disagreeable “Well, boys, I wish one of you to go out with this hearse; it’s already half an hour behind time,” said Bass 3oniface, sternly. Not one of the three answered a word, and the boss called out: “Steel-Grip, you drive the trip.” SAG, Boss Boniface, I-isn’t drivin’ swer. “Not driving! What do you mean, sir? “Waal, I wouldn’t be long, as id eet my checks called in by the Riders.’ “Ah! you are afraid to go?” “Thet’s about the size 0 , Hh. ward.” “And you, Hutchins?” “Waal, Boss Boniface, ‘tain’t my natur’ ter able or skeery, but I is both jist now, ribbon, ” was the calm reply. “And Tim Luther; what s says he?’ “Them ribbon-pa irds 0’ mine are preachin’ gospil, f “You refuse, toe?” “I does, fer a fact.” “Tl give any of you a hundred « through.” “Thet will jist about buy us a box fer burvin’,” re- marked Steel-grip. “Well. what sum do you want to make you tishly asked Boniface. me doesn't want no money, fer I is onc jist now.’ “And I are wealthy.” “And I are healthy, an’ Iw same disease our pards died of.” Such were the three answers, and in des spair Boss face turned to the crowd: “Boys, the stage must EC through, and I'l] give any driver five hundred to jump her to the other end.” oo hain’t no pilgrims goin’, pard,” said a miner. No, our list is light this morni ne : ‘Vas, durned light; guesses | won't wecep te: “What is the matter, ‘Boss 2” Just then Buffalo Bill came out of the hotel bri saline put in an appear- now,’ was the an- 329 be disagree- dollars to run the stage 2? pet- o > ommon well fixed ‘adn't be ef I cotch ther Boi- OOM, fer I won't pull a BILL STORIES “The stage has no driver, Cody, and no man will as they fear the fate of Halford and the others.” “Why, I will go, with pleasure, if you will trust me?’ said the scout Nee te 3 “Trust you? Indeed I will, and bravo for you!’’ The crowd joined.in the cheer for Buffalo Bill’s pluck, but many shooks their heads dubiously, With a smiling face Buffalo Bill drew on his gloves, mounted to the box. seized:the reins, and asked: “Passengers all aboard?” “None going.” VAI ready?” “Yes; and an hour late in starting.” “TH make up the time, with an empty hearse.” eh ony BO. The stable boys sprang away from the bits, cracked and the lash des pended’ and away went the coach on its outward run. For a long time after the departure of the stagiy, the crowd stood around the hotel in earnest conversation. Vhen they were startled by a loud cry from one of the drivers, who had sauntered off to the point of the moun- tain, where a grand view of the valley could be seen, in all its rug gee ed grandeur. “Come ! come, pards, an’ see a sight as is suthin’,” Steel-grip, almost beside himself with excitement. In one mass the whole crowd rushed tow fard the point of the hill, which was several hundred yards in front of the Beehive Palace hotel. As they gained the point all eyes were turned direction that Steel-grip pointed, and a ¢- every lip. 0 a) the whip yelled “It is Buffalo Bill!’ cried Boss Boniface. “Ther coach, fer a fact!’ yelled another. “And ther Red Riders,’”* shouted a third. “Going down Breakneck Mountain he certainly is sponded Boss Boniface. It was no wonder that the crowd eave vent and excited cries at what they saw, for far aw ay valley, dese ending a mountain side that had not lieved to be passable for other than mountain si visible the stage and its six horses. , And on the box sat Bu oy alo Bill, a but surety guid- ing the team down th ful steep, while, halted back on the mountain, oe ee dav ing to follow, was 2 group of Red Riders. “He saw the Nee in the canyon, and turned sharp off to the left and struck down the mountain,” said Boss Boni- LACS: j to amazed down the admiringly. “Thet are sq, it an he hes over a mile o’ xoad ! didn’t think ther deVil’sechariot could go down,’ put im Nat a “Tt is a road, or rather hillside, T would not attempt to ride a a up, lek ae ne down,” remarked a miner. “And ther Red Riders hes backed, fer they hain’t climb- down,” added another, “No, but B sufialo Bill is nearly down and will make it: then hé has level valley back te the Overland trail. and 1! he makes it. will do. wi hat no other-aman dare. do,” re- sponded Boss Boniface. “See how the coach-sw: ave and tips! horsés is down: in 1S oue of h eried Fred There, rio, he fee recovered hint!’ THE BUFFALO * on) a B Ford, who had just arrived, and held a field glass to his F eyes. * "Yer, 1s just ther kid ter vik yer was in thet coach as _a pilgrim,” said Nat Spencer, admiringly. | “No; not in the stage, but on the box with hat eaehe ick, HM) man; but see, he is nearly down; there! he has reached Bias valley—bravo!” ves, _ The voice of Fred Ford was drowned in the wild, mad, | ringing hurrahs that burst from the excited crowd. | As the coach was seen to dash away down the valley, i the boy cried out: | “There is the Red Rider captain. waving his hat in ad- i miration of the prince of the reins. ™ ‘Bravo for the name, kid, three cheers for Buffalo Bill, i the Prince of the Reins, > shouted Boss Boniface, half be- iD Gi side himself with admiration of the daring driver. ic) =e Then, as the hoarse cheer died away, he called out: ' “Now, we'll drink to the Prince of the Reins; come!” | They went with a rush, and once in Spirit Dick’s haunt, | they shouted themselves hoarse, and drank themselves drunk in honor of the scout, the CHAP IER: XX. THE RED RIDER'S SECRET. It was with the utmost excitement that the denizens of ” hive City awaited the return of the coach, which Buf- | falo Bill had volunteered to run through. Bs But had they seen that daring man seated upon the box, his reins well in hand over a fresh and exceedingly wild | team, smoking a cigar, his very coolness would ‘have al- | layed their excitement. ' He knew that in suddenly wheeling from Dead Man’s | Canyon, and going down Breakneck Mountain, with a ' coach and six horses, he had accomplished a feat that | might not be done again in a lifetime of trials. | Had he really known how fearful was the mountain to * Ge descend, he would rather have risked the Red Riders: | but, once having started, he would not turn‘back, for it | was his nature to keep on to the bitter end, whenever he ; undertook anything. | . Once down in the valley, he snapped his Ries at the _ Red Riders, and held on to the next station at a rate of speed that broug! ht him in nearly on time. # All he asked on the return trip was to select his own | horses; and he got six that were as thorough devils as 7 any ladian ever so to own. r WwW hen he found that there were “no pilgrims going this | trip,” he seemed rather pleased, and set off at race-horse’ | speed, to the delight of all who saw him depart. F As he drew near Dead Man’s Canyon, he threw away his cigar, laid a cocked revolver upon the box upon either side of him, and gathered his reins well in hand. Entering ‘the canyon he heard a shrill whistle, but kept “on, and soon knew that there were horsemen behind him. a A glance over _ shoulder showed that they numbered Ve ee Then lshead he: saw a line of Red: Riders seven in num- _ ber, sitting bolt-upright upon their horses, and barring his further passage. He did not stop, but held on at a swift gait. Suddenly _ out of the timber on the right of the canyon, rode.a single horseman, who sung out in distinct tones: Bi BILL STORIES. _ 27 “Halt! or you die!” Buffalo Bill did not halt, nor did he die... On the contrary, he threw forward his right hand, with the quickness of the lightning’s flash, and down dropped the Red Rider’s horse at the crack of the weapon, pinning the horseman under him. Then, as the stage horses bounded forward in wild fright, the revolver shots rattled forth. Every one brought down a Red Rider’s steeds went the flying team and the heavy wheels. For an instant the canyon was the scene of a wild death revel. Then the coach swept on at the full speed of its horses, and Buffalo Bill either knew it was useless to at- tempt to check them, or did not care to do so. After a hot, mad run, he drew them up at the door of the Beehive Palace, where his ears were deafened by cheers for the Prince of the Reins. Unheeding these, Buffalo Bill called upon the crowd to mount their horses and follow him. Ten minutes after a motley cavalcade went sweeping down toward Dead Man’s Canyon. At their head rode Buffalo Bill, Fred Ford and Boss Boniface. ' It was a long, hard ride, but at last they drew near the canyon. Many wished to halt for consultation, for they expected an attack upon the Red Riders; but Buffalo Bill held fearlessly on until he reached a point where half a dozen horses and forms were to be seen lying in the roadside. Then he halted, and said, in ‘is clear tones: “Men, I was sent here to hunt down the Red Riders, and I have done it. On my trip out I noticed, as I had before, one great peculiarity, and that was that only the chief spoke and moved. There, the secret is solved !’” He pointed to the dead forms, Riding forward, all uttered a ee for the supposed men were only dummies! Upon each horse had been mounted a well-stuffed suit of clothes. Securely tied in the saddle and masked, these looked exactly like men, and the thoroughly trained horses had carried them through every maneuver the whistle of their chief directed. “But where is their chief?” cried Fred Ford. “There lies his horse, but he has gone, it seems,” scout answered. “Gone, he may be, but he shall not escape me, for I will follow his trail,” said the boy, with deep emotion; and he turned his horse back toward Beehive City, while the others went in search of the Red Rider’s camp. When they found it they discovered only other evi- dences of the skillful cheat practiced upon them by the Red Rider captain. the (CHAPTER XT CONCLUSION. Buffalo Bill did not tarry at the Red Rider camp. He was anxious about the safety of Fred Ford. Striking the boy’s trail as soon as he could, the scout rode along it at a swinging gait. ‘itis just as I feared,” was : his thought ; “chasing after this gambler, instead of returning to Beehive City. “If I keep murder from being done I shall have to spur up!’ A strange, half- aye. passed over the face of the scout, as he thus mused; though the speed with which he now horse, and over men and 28 UVP ALA Late rode on showed that he really feared blood would be spilt a he did not hasten. Fortunately, the trail which the new Red Rider cap- tain had taken, wound in a roundabout circuit through the “hills. the trail of Fred Ford. Following it closely, as Buffalo Bill could see, was “I know a cut-off that will save miles; evidently this Grit, the Gambler, doesn’t know that cut-off, or he, too, ‘would have taken it, and so saved time. I ought to have arrested that fellow while he was in Beehive City, and I meant to do so, after I had run down the Red Riders. It would have been better, if I had not waited.” Taking the cut-off, and dashing on at full speed, the scout, after a ride of dittle more than half an hour, came upon a somewhat startling scene. The boy who had been following so hotly on the trai! of the gambler had overtaken him. The two sat on their horses not a dozen yards apart; and, though they were he heard; “ay, coward that you are, shoot t talking, the gambler had a revoiver drawn, and with it covered the heart of the boy. “My God! he will kill him!” was the thought of the scout. To prevent such a thing, be was about to dash forward with a shout, when the words he heard stayed him tem- porarily. “Shoot me, if you want to, Allan Arlei¢h,” > was what he woman you once married and whom you swore before the altar to cherish and protect and love through life, then basely deserted !” “I knew from the first I was net mistaken in iny belief that that boy, as everybody believed him to be, was Edith Balfour,” was the scout’s thought now. “What a clever little actor she has been!” | “PU kill you!” cried Grit, the Gambler, in a terrible tage. “You have hounded me like a wolf. I have you in my power now, and I mean to finish you. I rather thought you'd follow me, and I laid for you here: and “volver. ing a own revolver for the purpose of shooting the now PH see that you don’t follow ime again.” The face of the one called Edith Balfour had become as marble. But just as the scout was on the point of lifting his gambler to prevent the latter from slaying the woman, Edith gave her horse a quick touch with the spur that sent it in a wild sidewise jump. As she did so, out came her own re- Grit, the Gambler, greatly surprised, fired: but the ruse of the woman secured her ‘safety. He tried to fire again’ but his revolver snapped: and then, for the woman was bearing down upon him like a whirlwind, and he expected a bullet through the heart, he turned his own horse. _ _ it was for him a fortunate turn, though at the moment Ht seemed untertunate. The place where he and the woman had met was on the face of a precipice, overhang- deep streain. ee The horse slipped and fell heavily, as the.sharp bit jerked it around: and Grit, the Gambler, thrown from the satldle by the sudden fall, flew through the air and dropped over the rim of rock, just as Buffalo Bill’s re- yolver cracked. But for that, the scout’s bullet would have found lods- ment in the gamibler’s body a ‘from the top of the gorge: far, with a deap, { Beery. % around the corner of the recky wall; and was é PL STORISS. Riding forward, Buffalo Bill leaped down.-and would have hurried to the woman, who seemed to be about ty taint. But she recovered. as by an effort; and jumping from her horse, ran to the edge of the precipice. Buffalo Bill was instantly by her side, looking over with her; but his strong hand was on her arm, for he did not know but that in a sudden réaction of feeling might try to throw herself over that rock into the - | gorge into which the garnbler had plunged. : 2 . 44 % . ’ ‘ “See!” she exclaimed, hysterically. “He isn’t dead: he is——- Oh, God, he has gone under! _No, he has caught hold of the saddle. The horse will reach that little point of rock—that bit of shore there; and——”’ She was panting with wild excitement. : “Yes: he Her mood then changed instantly. Her revolver came out, and she would have shot at the head of the man who had jast saved himself from drown has reached it!” said the scout: i ing. So quick was her-action that Buffalo Bill was taken BR by surprise. , She fired, but her revelyer shot came too late to ac- complish its deadly purpose, Grit, the Gambler, seemed to be expecting such a he bounded out-of sight in an instant. “He will get out of there in some way, I don’t doubt,” said the scout. “The devil will take care of his ~ and he is a child of the devil. But, conte!” He drew the hysterical woman back 4 the precipice. “Neither of us can follow him now,” he $aiu. “We have to let him go. But, wherever he goes, there w no happiness for him; and a violent death will be sure be ‘his sooner or later. No other end is possible for such aman! Let that thought satisfy you.” The words and the tone of the scout seemed to quiet ler. ; “Yes, I will go back with you,” she said. “You bev always been my friend. And you knew me fro. even in this disguise?” “T was fooled at first: but not for lone. I your disguise some days ago.” “And still said nothing !”. : “I am your friend!” he said. . “Yes,” she answered, “and the friend of every less and needy mortal on the border’ Buffalo Bill’s work in Beehive City was done; had revealed the secret of the Red Riders and so de- stroyed that terror of the trail. ? But he had-other work to do, not. less important anc not less travic, - What it was another ‘story must tell. 144 Wat EP Re ERS THE END, | Next week’s issue (No, 140) will contain “Buffalo Bill's Long Chase; or, Grit, the Gambier Sperm. initins | story the woman whe posed as “the “Mysterious Boy of the West,” reappears, as does also “Grit, the Gambler. Buffalo Bill plays an important part. Altogether it will 4 e found to be one of the best stories of the serics. 5 ; »% CONTAINING THE MOST UNIQUE AND FASCINATING TALES OF WESTERN ROMANCE Alt ARRAN es SSR AIT = f_ 345—Diamond Dick at the Cireus; or, he Old Friend in a New Game. 346—Diamond Dick at Coney Island; or, A Warm Proposition Played to a Finish. 347—Diamond Dick’s Skiplap Pard; or, The Cheerful Waifs Big Winning. 348—Diamond Dick’s Stand-Off; or, The Shotgun Messenger’s Last Trip. 349-——-Diamond Dick at Fort ve or, Calling an Army Bluff. 350—Diamond Dick's Makeshift; or, The New Boss at Hold-Over. 351—Diamond Dick’s Golden ane. or, Bucking the Track Layers. ae 352—Diamond Dick’s Schedule; or, The First Train to Dangerfield. oi a 353—Diamond Dick’s Wild West; or, A Fair Field and No Favor. Ph 354——Diamond Dick’s Double-Bill; or, A Hot Turn Between Acts. 355—Diamond Dick’s l'arewell Performance; or, A Warm Go for the Gate Money. 356—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. a 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. INK 10, | 363-—Diamond Dick’s Line-Up; or, The Young Sport’s Banner Play. ch 1 ae aha Dick’s Web-Foot Fara: or, Outer Work on the Hurricane Deck. a 365—Diamond Dick’s Run to Denver; or, Old Sixty’s Last Mix-Up. he Dick Among the Pueblos; or, A Bold Play for a Big Stake. 267—Diamond Dick’s Dark Chase; or, Captured ny lash-Light. a oy 368—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. 371—Diamond Dick in Old Mexico; or, The ‘Gold-Bugs of Guanajay. | 372—Diamond Dick’s Treasure- Trove: or, The Secret of the Great Stone Idol.” : 4 373-——Diamond Dick in the Field: or, Handsome Harry’s Peril. 1e P 374—Diamond Dick, Jr.'s, New Pard: or, Brick-Top Ben and His I Little Joker. “4 1 7e—-Diamond Dick, Jr.’s, Roughest Trail; or, Foiling the Governor's Foes. A 379 Ca aes 3 376—Diamond Dick, Jr., ie the Black Riders; or, Saved by a Daring Leap. . i - 3977-—Diamond Pick, Jr. and the Gamblers; or, mee the Poker Sharks, i 378—Diamond Dick, iS a a Ply Tavern; or, More Work for Law and Order. 379—Diamond Dick, Jr.’s, Fight with the Flame’: or, The Last Struggle with the Blacklegs. a ag a : , , . ) : ae __ All of the above numbers always on hand. If you cannot get them from your newsdealer. five cents 2 COPY \ will bring them to you by mail, postpaid. ‘ STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 238 William Street, New York. EY ae ? ; Contains Stories of YOUNG BROADBRIM, the famous Boy Detective, and OLD BROADBRIM, the Great Quaker. 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, he Darihg Impersonation at Stonelow Grange. ‘44—Old Broadbrim at Close Quarters; or, The Puzzle of the Bhue Silk Cord. 45—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 Their Lives. —47—Old Broadbrim’s Clew.from the Dead; or. Two Famous Detectives on the Same Cas 48. O)ld Broadbrim iia ‘Deep. Sea Struggle; or, A Helping Hand from Nick Carter, 49—Old Broadbrim on the Wrong Case: or, Revenge After J Years. 50——Old Broadbrim in the Dark; or, Throwing Light on a Tangled Mystery s1—QOld Broadbrim on the Stace: or, How the Quaker Foil - a Female F iend. {eu : ; G4 52—-Young Broadbrim, the Bov Detectivé; or, The Old Quaker’s Youthful Ally. ‘ 4 | | | 53—Y pune Broadbrim in. Kansas City: or, What Was oy in the Flood Ee Vorne Broadbrim ion an Aérial Trail? or, The Terrible Ordeal of Fire. G5 Nous Broadbrim & Company; or, Solving the ae of Rockwood. =6-—-Youne Broadbrim Triumphant; or, The Girl Cracksman, La Young Broadbrim Fighting an Unknown Power: or, A Scientific Murdet rer, ~ Young Broadbrim on a Weird Case: or, The Mystery ot the Phantom Voices. . g Broadhbrim on a Long Trail; or, Dandy Dick Shanghaied. ae ung Broadbrim on a Newsboy pak or, Dandy Dick’s First Case. 61—- Young Broadbrim on ihe Border: or, Catel hing the smugelers of Canada. 62-— Young Broadbrim in the Lumber a Or, Getting the Best of Ontlaws. 63—Younge Broadbrim and the Hotel Thieves: or, Cley er les Run to Earth. 64--Young Broadbrim’s Perfumed Clew: or. Dandy Dick’s Star Play. 65-——Young Broadbrim’s Great Duel: or. The Boy Detectives Abroad 66—Young Broacbrim’s Vendetta; or, Chief Morello’s Death. Plot. 67—-Young Broadbrim on a False Clew; or. The My age of ¢] Qi mee als he Gray. House. 68-—Young Broadbrim’s Chance Shot; or, The Fight for the Boulder “Muliions’ All of the aLave numbers always on hand. If you cannot get them frog; your n will bring them to you by mail, posts lewsdealer, five cents @ co} aid, STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 238 William Street, N ew ork | .. See ees PES Pa ta I I ETP EIS RR BET TRIOS OTT ISELIN ES 1 I : ee OG. See BAS yO Containing. the Most Thrilling ‘Adventures ‘of the Celebrated Government Scout “BUFFALO BILL” (Hon. William P. col). : ‘tienen = meiasiecemuenseneseseseernes) ry 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 Renégade’s Trail; or, The White Queen of the Mandans. 107—Buffalo Bill’s Balloon Trip; or, Foiling the Apaches. :08+-Buffalo Bill's Drop; or, Dead Shot Ned, the Kansas Kid. 109—Buffalo Bill's Lasso-Throwers ; - Shadow Satn’s Short Stop. 110—Buffalo Bill’s Relentless Trail; or, The Unknown Slayer of the Black Cavalry. 1i11—-Baffalo Bill and Silent Sam; or, “The Woman of the Iron Hand. 112—Buffalo Bill’s Raid on the Midnighters; or, Following a Specter Sue 113—Buffalo Bill at Beacon Rock; or, Drawing Lots with Death. -. var 114—Buffalo Bill and the Wolves of Mexico. Ns 115—Buffalo Bill and the White Buffalo; or, The Black Horse Rider. 116—Buffalo Bill and the Pfairie Hercules; or, The Spectre Soldier of the Overland. 117—-Bufialo Bill and the Doomed Thirteen; or, Out on the Silver Trail. 1i18—Buffalo Bill’s Ride for Life; or, A Hard-Won Victory. 119—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. t22—-Buffalo Bill’s Pards of the Plains; or, The Dread Shot Four. 123—Buffalo Bill’s Helping Hand; or, The Secret of Kid Gl love Kate. 124—Buffalo Bill's 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. 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--Btffalo Bill's Dead-Shot Dragon; or, The Man-Killer of Perdition City. 132—Buffalo Bill’s Tramp Card; or, The Indian Heiress. T 33-—Bu ffalo Bill and Old Buckskin or, Hugh Harcourt, the Man of Mystery. 144—-Buffalo Bill’s Gold. Trail; or, The Desperado Dozen. | | 133—Buffalo Bill in Arizona; or, The Black Brotherhood. - . 136-—Buffalo Bill and the Revolver Riders: ot, Kent King, the Gambler Guide. 137—-Buffalo Bill in the Black Hills: or, Red Hand, the White Mystery. 138-—Buffalo Bill’s Daring; or, The Branded Brot! herhood. "All of the above numbers always on hand. | STREET &_ SMITH, Publishers, 238 3 William Street, New York. ar. RSE ORES S If you cannot get them from your newsdealer, five. at Hh — cetits a copy will biitig them to you by miail, postpaid. pe LIBRARIES 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 brether, 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 » Dick Merriwell Surprised; or, Cap'n Wiley’s Wiad Jammers. Prank Merriwell’s Quick Move; or, Cooling Off Cap’a Wiley. 5. Dick Merriwell’s Red Friend; or, Old Joe Crowioot to the Froat. Fran’ Merriwell’s Nomads; or, Cap'n Wiley’s Clever Work. Dick Merriwell’s Distrust; or, Meeting the Masked Champions. 388. Frank Merriwell’s Grand Finish ; or, The Independent Champions of America. } A : A Different Complete Story 7 " Every Week. 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; 33. Upright and Honest; or, Harry Hale’s Struggie to Success, : Henry Harrison Haines Three Pine Mountain. By Bennett 35. The Life ef the School; or, Out for Fun and Fortune. By Author of ‘‘Bicvcle Boys of Blueville.’’ 36. Tom Hamlin, Mesmerist; or, The Boy With the Iron Will. } By Matt Royal 37. The Puzzle of Panther’s Rua; er, Leon Gale’s Triumph. By Prank Earle 38. A Girl Crusoe; or, The Wonder of the Isle ef Gnomes. : By Cornelius Shea v7 84. Two Young Inveators ; or, The Treasure of i is a list of the latest numbers: ) BRAVE AND BOLD] Greatest Detective Alive, Nick Carter Weekly No detective stories published can compare with those pub- lished in this library. Nick Carter has had. innumerable thrilling adventures in which he was assisted by.Chick and Patsy, two fine, intelligent young fel. lows. Boys, you ought to buy this publication every week anc read about Nick’s wonderful escapes and captures The following is a list of the latest numbers: 346. Nick Carter On and Off the Scent; or, The Mysterious Tragedy at Herald Square. : 347. Nick Carter on a Parisian Trail; or, The Death Trap ofthe *‘Silencers”’ 348. Nick Carter’s Battie Against Odds; or, The Mystery ef the Detroit Pawnbreoker. 349. Nick Carter on His Metal. or, The Trapping of Cool Kate. 350. Nick Carier’s Life Chase; or, The Shot From Ambush. 361. Nick Carter’s Chain of Guilt; or, The Robbery of Express No. 5. STORIES OF THE FAR WEST. Diamond Dick Wee’ These are stor reat Diamond Dic oi, ertie. Every bo -ii pe more than satisfie with these tales, becanse they are drawn true to life, and are extremely interest: ing. Diamond Dick is a dead shot, and never allows a d¢s- 2 perado to get the drop on him. uS) ae S The following is a list of the O/H -# SA ee latest numbers: Diamond Dick’s Boy Pards; or, The Boarding House Puzzle. Diamond Dick and the Saie Crackers ; or, Two Spot’s Level Best. Diamond Dick's Last Call; or, Run Down on the Ferry. ANGe Diamond Dick’s Four Hand’s Round; er, A Game of Keens in tie Catskills. . Diamond Dick’s Line Up; or, The Young Sport’s Ban ene pres Web Foot Pard; or, Queer Work en t eck. 359 360. 361. 362. 363. 364. More Reading Matter Than Any Five-Cent Detective Library Published. Young Broadbrim 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 mest men would fear to go. m All the tales of his advencures are absolutely new. The following is a list of the ‘atest numbers written espec- jally for this line: Young ee the Boy Detective; or, The Old Quaker’s Faithfu Ve Youag Broadbrim in Kansas City; er, What Was Fourd in the Flood Young Broadbrim on an Aerial Trail; or, The Terrible Ordeal of Fire Young Broadbrim and Company; or, Solving the Mysteries of Rock- wood. Young Broadbrim Triamphant; or, The Girl Cracksman. Yourg |Broadbrhn Fighting an Uakaowr Power; or,'A Scientific $3. &4. 55. 56. 57. TALES OF FRONTIER, ADVENTURE. Buffalo Bill Stories en, a Every bey 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 jatest numbers: Buffale Bill’s Discovery; or, The Mystery of the Gold Treasure. 120. y Buffalo Bill’s Clean-Up; or, Routing the Rascals of Yellow Dast i21. 122. Buftalo Sirs Pards of the Plains; or, The Dead Shot Four. 123. Buffalo Rill’s Helping Haid ar The Secret of Kid Glove Kate. 124. Buffalo Bill's Boy Pard; or, Captain Hvena and His Red Angels 125. Butialo Bill’s Sacrifice; or, Waneta, tae Indian Queea. ADVENTURES IN THERE WILD WEST 3 THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. 32 Large Sized Pages . Handsome Colored Clear Type Cc & -.- Covers Buffalo Bill is one of the brave men who undertook to punish the Indians of our western states for their misdeeds. His adventures are related in a most interesting manner. Each ong teems with life and excitement. Every boy wants to know about the habits of the Indidh and this library gives him the op a LATE sr TYELES 123—Buffalo Bill’s Helping Hand; or, The Secret of Kid Glove Kate. 124—Buffalo Bill’s Boy Pard; or, Cap’n Hyena and His Red Angels. .125—Buffalo Bill’s Sacrifice; or, Waneta, the Indian Ousen 126—Buffalo Bill’s Red Trail; or, The Unmasking of Cap’n Hyena. 127—Buffalo Bill’s Death Deal; " or, The Wandering Jew of the West. 128—Buffalo Bill’s Double; or, The False Guide. 129—Bufialo 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 Dragoon; or, The Man Killer of Perdition City. 132—Buffalo Bill’s Trump Card; or, The Indian Heiress. To be had from all newsdealers, or sent upon receipt of price, 5c., by the publishers 3 STREET € @, — 28 ot bas tes Ne io