_ A-WEEKLY PUBLICATION © DEVOTED TO BORDER HISTORY Issued Weekly By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter ar New York Post Office by STREET & SMITH, Boe Willan BYRNE y, No. 121. : | Five Cents. : BUBFALO BILL LEAPED UPON THE ARM OF THE OUTLAW, CRUSHING IT BENEATH AND SNAPPING THE BONE. - : JUST AS THE WEAPON | EXPLODED. sare SS = == a IS ——. A WEEKLY PUBLICATION _ DEVOTED TO BORDER HISTORY Issued Weekly. By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 2798 Welltam St., NV. Y. Entered according to Act of Congress tn the year 1903, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, eC. No. L2t, NEW YORK, September 5, 1903. Price Five Cents, By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.” Gr A Eric T AUB OM OR NERY Be Buffalo Bill, the chief of scouts at Fort Advance, was riding along the stage trail which led to Gold Dust City and to the valley known as Gold Dust Valley. The time was near sunset. Ele was accompanied by two Englishmen, Horace Stin- son and Lloyd Maxwell, one apparently the servant of the other. This difference in station was, however, only assumed. Asa matter of fact, the Englishmen were two well-known detectives from the city of London. They were in the wild West on a dangerous mission. Being strangers to the country, they had confided the na- ture of their mission to Col. Mayo, the officer in command at. Fort Advance, and the colonel had sent them on their way in charge of Buffalo Bill, a man who knew the region thoroughly, and was worth a whole company of ordinary men as a guard and protector. os ‘ The Englishmen were dilating in an enthusiastic way on the beauties of the country through which the little party was passing, when their attention was drawn to the rum- bling noise made by the coming stage, which was on its way back to Gold Dust City. A. moment more, and a human voice was heard in a sharp command, and the coach came to a quick halt. What the voice said was: + Elalty Doc Ae or say yer prayers!’ “Road agents,” calmly said Buffalo Bill; “we will give the scoundrels a surprise, for they do not suspect help for the coach to be at hand,” suggested the scout, smiling, as if pleased at the prospect of a bout with the brigands. “T ain’t got a dollar’s worth o’ value along this trip-— only a boy and his traps; so yer’ll miss ther boodle this time,” spoke up the driver of the coach, whose name was Doc Denning. It’s the boy we is after, fer if he fooled “T guess not! He’s got boodle in plenty, an’ we you, he don’t fool us. is Ohne: The sudden exclamation was caused by a shot, and the bandit dropped dead in his tracks. A perfect yell of fury broke from half a dozen lips, and a voice cried: “Pards, ther boy hev done fer ther cap’n, and so we hang him right here an’ now!” Tie BUPPALO aw A shout of approval answered this. But there came a second shot, followed oy the voice of he driver calling out: “For God’s sake, young pard, don’t shoot ag’in, or hey ll hang yer sart’in!” “I can die but once, and I'll die game!’ was the plucky “ssurance, in ringing tones, followed by a defiant: “Come on, you cutthroats!” “lam going to rescue that plucky boy; you stay here.” So said Buffalo Bill, addressing the two English secret service officers. He would run the risk for himself, but did not care to Nave strangers take the chances. But the Britons were not the men to know that help was vanted and not promptly give it. “We are with you--lead!” was what Horace Stinson xclaimed; and.leavine the pack horse in the trail, the three horsemen bounded forward at full speed. So sudden was their coming, so unlooked-for their in- erference, that the band of road agents halted in their tnove upon the coach, where the youth they had threatened to hang then stood, with one foot on the step, fearlessly awaiting their approach. The outlaws seemed dazed at this sudden interruption, “nd every one of them stood undecided. Then they heard the war-cry of Buffalo Bill, as he lashed out into the trail a hundred yards ahead, and the . iighway gang knew with whom they had to deal. A volley. they immediately fired toward him and the two nen following, then they bounded into the timber. But not until one of their number fell under the fire of he seout, and lay writhing and groaning in dying agonies. The outlaws. were on foot, so had time to leap down the teep hill whence a horse could not follow them, to where iney had left their own animals. They had seen the scout and the two others; the driver, Voc Denning, they knew, was a bad man at bay; the youth nad shown what he could do; two of their number had seen brought down. ‘The five who remained had no idea 1 fighting on equal terms, so they fled with all speed, “Ho, Doc, in trouble?” cried Buffalo Bul, as he drew ein by the coach and looked up at the handsome driver. “Oh, no, not now, Bill—but we was in a tight place ‘fore you come. “They wanted my young passenger thar, and if he do ok as pretty as a gal, and soft as velvet, he ain’t no ouch, for he kilt yon feller, and wounded t’other, ther ne You. got yer bullet into.” “Poor fellow! He is suffering terribly, and I’ll see hat I can do for him,” said Buffalo Bill} as he dis- jouated and approached the wounded road agent. “jist like yer, Bill; would ’tackle ther devil with spurs BIEL STORIES, on, if it were a squar’ fight, but as kind as a kitten ter a man in distress,’’ the driver remarked. Buffalo Bill had already reached the wounded man, and said, in a kindly tone: “Come, my man, let me see what I can do for you.” The youth, as if regretting the shooting he had felt compelled to do, also came forward, and knelt at the out- law’s side. It was a kindness poorly repaid. With a last effort, the dying outlaw drew a derringer pistol and thrust it against the body of the boy. On the instant, Buffalo Bill leaped with both feet upon the arm, crushing it beneath him and snapping the bone, just as the weapon exploded, the bullet tearing the heel off of the scout’s boot. Almost instantly, as if he had expended the last ounce of — his strength, the outlaw expired. His death, his attempted revenge, his fierce vindictive- ness, furnished such food for immediate comment that for a few moments nothing else was mentioned or thought of. Finally, Buffalo Bill turned to the nervy boy, and in- quired of him his name. “What I am matters not; my name now is Dare King- don, and [ am going to the mines for both profit and pleasure.” There was an emphasis upon the words “my name now, which did not fail to be observed by each one pres- ent. In the mind of the scout, as well as of the others, the daring young passenger was set down as a very .te--~ markable and most mysterious individual. These words of the youtls caused Buffalo Bill and the English detectives to gaze with still greater interest upon the one they had rescued, ae Doc Denning remarked: “Waal, ef he don’t knock ’em all out, call me a tender- foot, and I won’t fight yer. He jist makes me chilly, he’s sich a cool kid... Yer kin count ten on him!” The youth heard the words while Horace Stinson ee to Maxwell: “A most remarkable people, these Americans, Max.” “Wonderful, from the cradle to the grave,’ was the reply; ‘men and women, too” But the mysterious youth Why. there? Cody saw in him a yeuth of apparently sixteen. : His face was perfect in outline, and as handsome as a was he?. Where from? Mercury. He was blond, with large, lustrous, dark-blue eyes, shaded by long lashes of jetty hue, features cut in-almost classic mold, teeth even and milk-white, hair of golden color, wavy and falling upon his shoulders, and a slender, perfect form, full of activity and strength, but not over five feet six inches in height. He was dressed in something the style of a sport, a the driver, and smiled,” fa black velvet sack coat, silk neghgé shirt, gray corduroy riding pants stuck in handsome top boots, and a dove-col- ored slouch hat. Though there was a belt about his waist, no weapons were visible, but he had them, his es coat concealing them. “That feller there,” said the driver, pointing to the body of the outlaw who had tried to kill the boy, ‘“b’longs in Gold Dust City, if I don’t miss my guess. I heerd once that his right name was Alf Ellis, though that ain’t ther name he’s been goin’ by.” - All looked again at the remains of the man of whom these words were spoken, and none looked with more ap- parent interest and curiosity than the boy. The statement of the driver was of deep import to the others, also, though they were clever enough to conceal the fact. CHAPTER (ll: FORT DEATH. With the bodies of the two outlaws in the coach, Doc Denning started on his way once more, Buffalo Bill, with the Englishmen, galloping on behind, as rear guard, ready for any‘new emergency. Along the.dark and stormy trail the coach rolled, Doc Denning, a master of the reins, guiding his six-in-hand “with marvelous skill, while his companion on the box seemed to enjoy the night ride greatly. “Yer'll find Gold Dust a tough camp, pard,” Doc in- formed him, warningly. “I do not look for a paradise,” was the quiet rejoinder. “That lucky, fer it ain’t one; more et it’s a gate to hades, as ye'll diskiver.” “By the way, what chances are there for good accom- modations in the camps?” the boy inquired. “Well, I don’t think they is away up in style. Ther Overland is a tavern kept by Jerry Thomas, who we calls Tom and Jerry, and it has rooms, sich as they be, and beds, sich as they is, a nothin’ ter brag on, while ther grub is good, as it goes.” “T wanted to get a ee to myself, if I could; a if not, then to build one.’ “One cabin fer one young feller! No chums, ner pards ?”’ “For myself alone—no chums, nor pards, nor even friends. J suppose I can get men to build for me, if I pay them well ?” “Oh, yes; Gold Dust is like other places; the spondulix gits what yer want, jest as it does anywhar’.” “Then I will select a place to-morrow, apart from the © camps, where I can be quite by myself, as I want to be.” 55 Mince, THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. : : 3 “Say, how’d ther oe ee suit yer? Yer’d be quite by yerself thar, dead sure.’ “The old fort? I don’t understand. What about it?” “Waal, it’s a big log house, well up on the hill, a full half a mile from ther stores, tavern or saloon, and no shan- ties or dugouts very near.” “Does no one live there ?” ‘Live there? You bet thar don’t!’ “And why not, may I ask?” “Why, fer the good enough reason that it’s haunted !”” “Nonsense, Denning!’ “No, it ain’t nonsense! It’s a holy fact, and nobody in Gold Dust dares to live there, or even to go thar on a call.” Vell mevall about. 1t.”’ “Ther Haunted Cabin—that’s its name—though more calls it Fort Death!’ “Fort Death? A queer name, certainly. called?” “Well, little pard, yer see, ther gover’ment built it as a advance post ter pertect miners. Now it’s jest an old, haunted place.” “Then the place is unoccupied ?” “Not much it ain’t unoccupied !” “Who lives there now?” _ “Ghosts.” vis that allrZ “Don’t you believe in ’em ?”’ “Not enough to scare me off, for I will go to live at the old tort, 1.1 can get, it.” “Oh, you can get it, you bet!” and Doc Denning was more than ever impressed with his young passenger, and voted him the strangest stranger he had ever met. Going over a ridge, the coach came in sight of the camp of Gold Dust Valley, and the youth uttered an exclama- tion of surprise and admiration as the scene burst upon his vision. There lay the valley, shut in by ranges of mountains upon either side. A stream of considerable volume glittered like silver in the moonlight as it wound its way for miles through hills; vales and meadow land. Upon either side of the stream were hundreds of lights, from cabins and campfires—a group of them a mile up the valley showing where Gold Dust proper was located. It was a beautiful scene, that quiet-looking valley bathed in the moonlight, with its silvery stream, its many lights, and yet it was but a slumbering volcano! “Ts that haunted house in view now?” the boy asked. The driver pointed out the big structure, which was dimly visible. “It ought to be a nice place to live i in, and Thope I can get it,” was all the boy said. Following his usual custom, Doc Dennint feoan to stir up his team as he drove down into the valley, and as he Why is it so a THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. reached for his long stage horn, Dare Kingdon, as he called -himself, asked the driver if he could give a few. blasts. “You kin, if you kin,’ was the rather parado ioinder, and taking the horn from its resting place, Doc Denning continued : “My horn is-a bugle, yer see, little pard, fer I war a cavalry bugler onct, and I tuck ter it natural.” The youth took the bugle, looked at it a moment, smil- ing, then placed it to his lips—Doc Denning watching him closely—placed it to his mouth, and at the very first noise the delighted rein-puller knew it was in the hands of an expert, Wildly, through the valley, echoing back from the mountain ranges and dizzy heights, rang the clear, beauti- ful notes, vividly recalling the noble and masterly lyric of Tennyson: xical re- “Blow, bugle, blow! Send the wild echoes flying!” Buffalo Bill, back in the rear, was quite astonished, and remarked: “Doc is trying himself to-night, but I had no idea he “could play like that.” “He is, indeed, an artist to wind a horn as he does. Why, it is superb!” averred Horace Stinson, who was a fair musician himself. “Say when I must stop,” Dare Kingdon remarked to Doc. “Stop?” responded the enraptured ex-cavalryman; “don’t you dare do it! Keep it up, little pard, keep it up, fer this valley ain't heerd nothin’ li like that never! Keep her tootin’, pard!” . Kingdon did “keep her tootin’.” He sent forth clear, thril ling notes, each so rounded, full and dis- tinct that Doc\Denning swore afterward he could see them as they went forth. And Dare The unwonted outburst brought from their cabins along the valicy trail every dweller there. What had come over the stage driver? each one asked. Was he music mad? On rolled the coach, and loud, long and sweet pealed the buele notes. Doc Der anine, wild with delight, lashed the horses into a full run in his enthusiasn. Under stich headway, the séttlement itself was soon reached, and the people, seemingly inspired by the bound- ine and rebounding notes, all made a rush for the Good Luck Hotel. la! Here we is!” shottted Doc Denning, as th steaming teams dashed up to the door, and wete brought to a stand, and for the first time it was concluded that the tried and true driver was drunk, though known not to be a drinking man. The bugle had even emptied the saloons, so a creat crowd was on hand to receive the coach, expecting some- thing out of the usual run to happen. “Well, Doc, what have you?” asked Landlord Jerry, as he came forward to open the door, . Two stiffs inside, a boy bugler thet kin outplay Gabriel, and Buffalo Bill and a couple o’ pards followin’ arter ther huss,” was the reply, as Doc threw his reins upon the backs of his wheelers and faced the crowd. This unique introduction by Doc Denning of Dareé Kingdon to Landlord Jerry and the crowd was well re- ceived, for all greeted it with a yell. They could bear testimony to the bugle playing of the youth. But the “stiffs,” as Doe called the two dead bodies in the coach, also quickly commanded their curiosity, for such a “cargo” told the crowd that there had been an at= tack upon the coach, and that two men had been killed. CHAPTER, IT, DARE KINGDON DISPLAYS HIS GRIT. The boy who had given his name as Dare Kingdon fol- lowed the stage driver into the principal saloon of the camp. scarcely had he erased the threshold when he was ad- drssed in no pleasant tones. The speaker was known by a few there to be a friend of one of the men who had been killed. The question represented sneering anger. ae “Say, sonny, ain't yer off yer trail? Fer only men come out here, and I’d like ter know why yer comed—so I would?” All knew the man. He was a small fellow, red-faced and strong as a mouns”™ tain lion, while he had the name of being a desperate in- dividual to cross in any way. Men in Gold Dust City, even the bravest of them, let him severely alone, as a rule. He was a miner, a hard worker, had a good lead, and seemed naturally antagonistic, while he made it his stand- ing boast that the man who killed him should own his all, he having even written his will to that effect. Even with this reward to prompt them, none of the hard . denizens of the camp seemed ready to take the chances with him. He was called Red Fred, from his hair as well as his record, At his qtiestion to the youth, ail expected trouble, look- ing for Doc Denning to resent it; waved the driver back, and answered, immediately: “Talking about men, you are not entitled to the name, for you aré even smaller than [ am.” A few laughed—a very few—at this hit at Red Fred’s size, but he retorted, in his sneering way: vi ut Dare Kingdon - ee children, calling me a “Size don’t make ther man, kid, and I asked yer a question.” es was it? answer.’ “T asked yer why yer come here ter Gold Dust: re “Tt is none of your business,” came the prompt and em- phatic retort from the youth, and a yell of admiration broke from the lips of a number who thus knew that he did not fear Red Fred. : But all waited breathlessly then for what they well un- derstood must follow. Red Fred smiled at the answer, instead of flying into a rage, or drawing a gun; but in a moment came his sneer- ing reply: “T have met many a man in my day, and there are : did not mean to be so rude as not to -gtaves up the valley I have tur nished the fruit for, because folks got too fresh; but I haven’t got it against me that 1 ever struck a woman or a child, so, young fellow, you can consider yourself in luck.” Every eye was upon the youth, as he stood near Doc Denning by the door, the latter seeming anxious to chip in to defend the stranger. But again Dare Kingdon waved him back, and without a change of face, replied: “You pretend to be very chivalrous toward women and acchild, Emer, ver you insult me, and expect me to let it pass unnoticed. “Why, little red-head, you are only a coward, for no- body but a coward would insult an unoffending person, and that person a perfect stranger to you!” A yell of fury burst from the lips of Red Fred, and his hand dropped tpon the revolver. “Retract those words, boy, or he shouted. Pil treat you as a man!” A bréathless silence followed this outburst, and again all _ eyes wete upon the youth. He still leaned against the door of the saloon, calm and fearless, while by his side was Doc Denning, anxious to take the fight off his little pard’s hands, yet curious to see what the youth would do. With the same unmoved manner, the response was given “T have always had an ambition to be treated as a man, so I refuse to change my opinion of you, and repeat my words, that you are a coward and a ruffian, too!” “Hands up, | say, and [ll force an apology from your lips in my own way!” Red Fred’s revolver had spfung to a level now, and covered the youth. He gazed straight into the muzzle of the revolver and asked : | “Do you order my hands up?” “Yes, and be quick about it!” THE BUFFALO: BILL STORIES, “You mean to kill me?” “Yes, if you will have it!” “All right, as you have the drop on me, my little man, I'll raise my hands.” How he did it, no one’s eyes were quick enough to see. He did not appear to. draw any weapon; none was handed to him by Doc Denning, who still kept his stand by his side, but the stranger must have had a gun con- -cealed in his sleeve, for, as his hands went upward, the right stoppéd only half a second at a level; a sharp report rang out, and Red Fred went down. It was a derringer that did it—a weapon not five inches long, ivory-handled, gold-mounted, and with the barrel painted flesh color. The bullet it carried would have killed a buffalo bull, as it did Red Fred, who could not have known what hit him. His own weapon exploded as the finger convulsively touched the trigger, but the bullet passtd over Dare King- don’s head and buried itself in the door frame above him. A dead silence followed the two shots. Men did not seem to know just what had happened. Doc Denning had not fired, and it could hardly be re- alized that the young stranger had done so. But there he stood, no weapon visible, as he quietly kept his position, his face unmoved. - After a quarter of a minute of time, it seemed to dawn upon the crowd that Red Fred lay dead, with a bullet in his brain, and the stranger whom he had called a boy— whom he had covered with his revolver—had done the shooting. The first to realize it was a friend of the dead man, as huge in stature as the other had been diminutive, and < as ferocious as a wildcat. An all-around bad man, he was known as Bitter Creek Bob, and the sworn friend of Red Fred, for whom he worked. “That kid did not fite that shot; who di ord tackles him!” shouted the giant, towering above the crowd a full head. But Dare Kingdon seemed neither impressed by the threat, not the size of the man, and said, in a light way: “Say, giant, it was I who killed the little red-head, but don’t force me to fill a graveyard the first night of my ar- tival in your peaceful valley.” The stock of Dare Kingdon went above par at once. Doe Denning had not over-estimated him. The good men of the place were beginning to feel that the youth was being crowded too far, so Doc decided to chip in, when Bitter Creek Bob shouted out: “(ll lick you, young feller, ae then tackle any o’ yer friends who dares to face me!’ “Ym his friend; take me first!” Bo THE BUFFALO: All started at the calmly-uttered words, and Buffalo ill strode through the door, the two Englishmen right be- and him. CHAPTER IV. TA MOTON Giga ar O; UG Ene: Cody knew very well that, in that wild community, he would be taking the whole responsibility upon himself for what might follow, but that was just the reason why he did) chance it.’ The scout knew all about Red Fred and his big pard, who was often called “Red Fred’s Giant,” while the small man had been called “Bitter Creek Bob’s Boy.” As to the giant, Buffalo Bill had heard of his wonderful feats of strength, that he was catlike in his movements, in spite of his great size, and that he preferred to kill a man by brute force, om strength, rather than by the use of a weapon. The Hercules had been known to kill men by a single blow of his fist, to break a man’s back by a kick, to wring his neck, and by other acts that proved his amazing strength. But, a stranger to fear, Cody entertained no dread of any man, though he avoided trouble, sought no man’s life, and only used force or weapon when he deemed right, jus- tice and necessity all on his side. So it was that he strode out of Jerry’s Joy Saloon and threw down the gantlet to Bitter Creek Bob: “T am his friend; take me first !”’ Bitter Creek Bob knew Buffalo Bill. He was aware that he was chief of scouts in the army _for that military district, and well deserved the name he had won. The fact that Cody was an officer of the government, and that Bob was dodging the law, handicapped the giant, and therefore he would gladly have sneaked away, if that — was possible ; but that he could not do; he could not “show the white feather’’ and remain in Gold Dust Valley. So he answered the scout’s challenge: “If you want to take up ther boy’s quarrel, I says right now I’m glad to tackle a man o’ your big name, so let it be revolver, bowie-knife or a stand-up fight—say which,” and Bitter Creek Bob loomed up to his full height and proportions. “Very well. I have stepped in to prevent your fur- ther abuse of this strange youth, and to do that will meet you on your own terms.” Every word uttered by Buffalo Bill was distinctly heard by the entire crowd, and at the words a smile that was malignancy and triumph commingled crossed the face of the huge borderman ruffian, BIEL STORIES. “Well, we'll make it man to man, without weapons,” an- nounced the desperado, “an’ it shall be ter kill who can.” “IT do not wish to kill you; I desire no life upon my hands that can be spared; but all the same, I accept your terms,” was the reply of Buffalo Bill, Again that look of triumph and malice swept over the face of the bully, while something like a chorus of groans came from the best men in the crowd, who looked upon the scout as.doomed. There were others in that crowd who understood that Bitter Creek Bob had feared to meet Buffalo Bill with — either revolver, knife or rifle, so had wished to match his strength against the scout’s. They thought that Bob’s mighty prowess, which had never been overcome, would be sure to rid the camp of any further interference by the man the bad element so dreaded. So the two elements, good and bad, awaited what was to come with breathless interest. As the arrangements were begun for the meeting, Dare Kingdon stepped forward, and said: “I insist, Mr. Cody, that this must not be, for I alone am the one to meet that big brute. , It is my right!” “Pardon me, but you are a stranger here. You have done all that is necessary to prove your pluck, for you promptly and properly killed the ruffian who began the quarrel, and so ended the career of one who long has been, : a terror in these camps. “His pard has seen fit to take up this unequal and un- justifiable quarrel, and I shall see that he is satisfied.”’ “But the coward’s brute strength must be enormous,’ urged Dare. “T have heard that a tiger can whip an ee was the scout’s smiling reply. As the youth realized that he could do nothing, he quietly stepped back to where Horace Stinson, Maxwell and Doc Denning were standing together. “Can this,be prevented?” he asked the driver. “Just what I am anxious to know,” Horace Stinson added, in evident excitement and anxiety. “No! It’s got to go on; a! Doc Denning. has got to face the music now.’ “But that fellow will surely crush Cody,” Maxwell urged. “He will kill him, for look at his, bulk, at his enormous hands, his reach of arms and how active he is.” “I has known of many men who has expected ter kill Bill Cody, ter wipe him out, ter mop the earth up with him, and yet he seems ter be in right comfortable health 33 “Bill just now, though I does wish it had been a case o’ gins, instead of a clutch atween ’em.” _ This explanation of Doc Denning made the two Eng- lishmen and the youth feel a little easier in mind, though [A a THE BUPFBALO BILL STORIES. 2 they could not just see how the scout was to win, save by a clever trick of some kind. In the meantime, all gambling in the saloon had ceased, and the tables were moved to one side, the body of Red Fred having been placed upon one, his hands folded upon his breast. To Doc Denning Buffalo Bill handed his weapons, threw aside his coat, tightened his belt, and wound his long hair up in a knot, to be out of his way. Bitter Creek Bob had also cast aside his coat, hat and belt of arms. Then a silence fell upon the assemblage, for now the two combatants were ready for the fight. It was to be a rush, a feinting attack, a knockdown, a grapple, just as the men could make it, after Landlord Jerry, the referee, gave the word. The two men faced each other, across the room, forty feet apart. _ It was a ditt floor, but as hard as a rock. The lights were not overbright, but sufficiently so for all to be plainly seen. The crowd had formed a solid circle around the open space, but Doc Denning, who knew, saw that the chaff and wheat had separated, as though by mutual consent. “Are you ready, gentlemen?” called out Landlord Jerry. “Tm allus ready,” growled the bully, while Buffalo Bill replied, simply: Sl atc: “Ready!” shouted Landlord Jerry, and all expected to see the adversaries rusn at each other. They were. mistaken. Bitter Creek Bob made a feint to do so, but Buffalo Bill did not meet it. So they stood regarding each other, the scout looking his huge antagonist coolly over. Whether he knew it or not, ot so intended it, his cool look of defiance slightly disconcerted the Hercules, for his fingers twitched nervously, and he seemed impatient. Thus they stood for half a minute, and the miner began to get decidedly uneasy. He did not like the scout’s tac- tics, did not understand them. Then, to the surprise of all, instead of standing on the defensive, Buffalo Bill, still keeping his eye upon his’ an- tagonist, advanced. to the attack. This evidently disconcerted his enemy still more, for he glanced about him uneasily; then, by a sudden impulse, he made a rush forward, uttering a wild ery, which he meant to intimidate the scout. But Buffalo Bill did not flinch. Just as the huge bully’s fists were about to strike, the scout ducked down and forward. Then arose quickly, with Bob’s legs grasped in his arms. He slung his enemy, with terrific force, hackward his whole length upon the hard ground. From his head to his heels Bitter Creek Bob struck the “ground with a force that knocked the breath completely out of his body and stunned him almost into unconscious- ness. Cody stood gazing down upon him, his arms folded, his whole attitude that of the gladiator, in calm, triumphant repose. The silence was like death, for at first the crowd did not comprehend it; it could hardly be realized just how it was done. The scout’s apparent fall, his grip of the bully, his sud- den rise and the dash of the huge form upon the hard ground had been so quick, and so skillfully done, with such a display of strength, that it fairly dazed the onlook- ers, both for and against him. The Englishmen were first to appreciate the character of the act, and broke forth in a cheer that was taken up by others until the roof fairly rattled. “Time!” shouted Stinson. “He'll never come to time,” yelled Maxwell. “He’s dead!” came in a chorus of many voices. “You've killed him, Bill,” shouted Doc Denning. “No; he is only stunned,” and Buffalo Bill leaned over and felt the heartbeats of the prostrate man, adding: “He'll soon come around. Stand back and give him I? 32 air. Landlord Jerry waved the crowd away, forced a drink of whiskey between his lips, dashed a glass of water into the pallid face, and stepped back, leaving Buffalo Bill quietly standing alone, awaiting the movements of his an- tagonist. At last the eyes glanced about upon the. faces of the crowd; a shudder ran through the giant form, and the gaze was fixed upon Buffalo Bill. “Can I aid you to rise, Bob?” asked Cody. The man, with an effort, sat up, refusing the proffered aid. : ~ Seeing the blood staining his shirt, he asked, gruffly: “Did yer shoot me?” “Oh, no, there was no shooting.” “Nor knife me?” “No; Lam not of your stripe, for I see you have a knife sticking out of your hip pocket there.” “Lordy! I didn’t know I had it!’ A yell of derision greeted these words, and the miner bully saw that the majority of the onlookers were against him. “Do you intend to resume the fight, Bob?” asked Land- lord Jerry. “ls-l hurt 22 “You are the best judge of that. had struck a sawmill.” “T feels all broke up, that’s a fact. How did he do it?” “You met your match, that’s all,’ chipped in Dare Kingdon. The bully glared at the boy, but made no Ty and égain Landlord Jerry asked: “Ts ita backdown, Bob?’ “No; I ain’t able ter fight now, fer I admits he downed me. Some other time [’11——’” “No; the fight ends right here, if you are not going to fight now. It is a fight now or not at all.” “T tell yer, pards, I feel as ef every bone in my body was -broke. I ain’t able to go in again.” “All right; I will not fight a crippled man,” and Buf- falo Bill turned upon his heel, while again the roof of the saloon rattled with the cheers given. But there were hisses and groans, too, and many black looks were cast toward the scout, while a few of the friends of the fallen giant aided him to rise and assisted him into his cabin. You look as if you CHAPIER Vy. THE STORY OF A CRIME. In Buffalo Bill’s room at the Good Luck Hotel, that night, the famous scout and the English detectives came to a better understanding. Impressed: by his honesty and courage, the detectives de- termined to confide to the scout the exact nature of their mission, and ask his assistance. “Mr. Cody,” said Stinson, finally, after he had care- fully led up to the subject, “I have seen enough of you, and heard enough about you, to feel that you can be thor- oughly trusted. I desire to take you into my confidence as to why I came to this country, and what my purposes ate “You know best, Mr. reply. The Englishman seemed lost in thought for a while. “T had heard of you, Mr. Cody, before I left England— had read of you a great deal—but I never supposed I would have the honor of meeting you,” he said, at length. The scout bowed. “In London we write ourselves down as Horace Stin- son and Loyd Maxwell, Specials of the Secret Service, but when on our travels, chasing crooks, we go as Horace Stinson and valet, off on a tour of the world.” “Yes, sit; and you have dogged one of your crooks to this far-away wilderness ?”’ “Mr. Cody, we are on a most important and special mission, though following a very cold trail; we are track- Stinson,” was the scout’s quiet THE BUFEALO BILL STORIES. ing a criminal who has had the start of us for a dozen years. “Now, for our story. “It is in this way: “A couple of years ago a man was thrown from his horse, and the doctor told him his injuries were fatal. He would not believe this, for he was still a young man—was the possessor of enormous wealth, which he had inherited ; he loved life, and the many pleasures that riches could se- ‘cure, and he called in another physician. “He, too, told him that he must die. “Still doubting, he sent for another, and was told the same story. “The most eminent of the medical fraternity were sent for, consultation aiter consultation was had, yet all said the man must die. “He did die; but before death came to him, he made a confession. He had gained his large fortune by crime and fraud. “He was but third in the line of inheritance. The true heirs were a little boy and girl, brother and sister, who had been left the large estate by their father, but, in case of their death, the man I spoke of was to inherit it all, “He was then a young officer in the British Navy, and poor; but the prospect of a fortune turned his head, made him plot to get it, although to do so he must get rid of the children ! “He came home on leave, plotted, planned and at jonah hired a man to assist him. _ “Soon after this the death of the young heirs was re- ported. It was heralded that the two children, with their nurse, had been rowing in a small boat on the coast where they dwelt; an off-shore wind had blown them out to sea. A storm had come up, and, two days after, the capsized shattered boat was driven ashore, telling what the fate of the occupants had been. “No one saw anything but an accident in this ; the naval officer got his supposed inheritance and resigned his com-~ mission to enjoy it. . “But his deathbed confession showed that he had hired ~ this London crook to rid him of the children. “He had stipulated that they should not be ue to death unless necessary. “The crook had, therefore, cultivated the nurse : he had won her affections; then he let her into the plot and showed her the sum he was to get. “He had planned well—for her to row off from the shore with her charges, toward nightfall; he was there in a little craft, with an accomplice, to pick them up. “They sought shelter in the storm; placed the little boat on the beach to be found; then they sailed for France and took passage to the West Indies. THE BUPEALO “From there they went to the United States, and with their ill-cotten money bought a home. “But the conscience of the woman troubled her, and she told her husband—for he had married her, as he had mar- ried others before her—that she intended to confess all. _ “That night she'died. There is no doubt the man mur- dered her. He sold out, soon after, and moved elsewhere, taking the children with him. ; _"Shortly afterward he married again, put the name of the woman we do not know, nor what became of him, yet certain clew$ led us to this section.” He stopped and: looked earnestly at the scout. ‘Mr. Cody, that outlaw, whose real name was said to be Alf Ellis, must have been our man. His name was also Alf, or Alfred Ellis. Now he is dead, and we seem to - have reached the end of our trail.” “T stand ready, gentlemen, to help you all I can,” was the-scout’s answer. “The names of the children,” Stinson went on, ‘were Darrel and Catherine Burr. In addition to the name of ‘Alf Ellis, the man we have been hunting was called in England ‘Liverpool.’ “The nurse whom he married to carry out his diabolical plot was Lucy Fisher, but in America, as we have ascer- tained, they were known by the name of the children, Mr. ice and Mis. Burr. ~ “Tracking him closely, as we did, we fond that he _changed his name several times.” “Lhe story of the English detective made a deep impres- sion on Buffalo Bill. “YT stand ready to help you ali I can, as I said,” he de- clared, when it was concluded. Then he added, after a few moments of thought: “You are already suspected here of being detectives, as IT have discovered. me—let me play a lone hand—I think I can do something. I have a man in mind, whom I will visit, and I hope for, - more information from that visit.” “We are willing to place the entire case in your hands,” said Stinson; and his companion said the same thing. » “My advice, then, is for you to retire from this camp and this valley. I will begin work without delay, and will get word to you promptly of what I accomplish.” Thus it came about that before morning the English detectives had departed from Gold Dust City and Buffalo Bill had set out on a dangerous Ugagl: se GHAPIER Vi DARE KINGDON AT HOME. ~The morning dawned in Gold Dust City, to find the happenings | ‘of the night oe more than an ordinary affair to tall Over. If you will leave the entire matter to BILL SVrOREES. 9 The attack on the stage and: the killing of two men, the arrival of the strange youth and his plucky stand from the start, with the coming of Buffalo Bill and the English- men, the death of Red Fred and Bitter Creek Bob’s-down- fall gave the miners of Gold Dust City much to think — about and discuss. The dead men were to be buried at the expense of Dare Kingdon was the statement given out early by Landlord Jerry, who had ridden off with the youth and Doc Den- ning, while the rest of the camps slept aD after the ex- citing happenings of the night. The three had gone to the old fort, and Dare Rides had noted its strength, been much pleased with its posi- tion, and said at once that he would make it his home. So, Landlord Jerry was told to fit him up there as snugly as possible and as quickly, the youth intending to remain at the hotel until all was ready for him. Dare Kingdon took possession of his gruesome quar- ters in the ill-omened old cabin that had served as a fort. There ‘was water there, fine grazing ground for his horses, and ample accommodations to make him com- fortable. Landlord Jerry had “fixed him up” in great style; the — faro-table and wheel had been set up, with another table to be used for throwing dice or playing cards. All this being done, the young fellow gave it out that he would open a game with a week or ten days. + Much curiosity was felt regarding the strange youth, but he had already created a wholesome respect for him- self, so the roughs and toughs- of the camps were not curious to rudeness. oo He had made his advent as a hero, for Doc Denning had told of his remarkable heroism in the hold up of the® — coach by the outlaws. He had kept up his record for nerve when he had met Red Fred and had killed him, and if his dead shots at the outlaws had been looked upon as good fortune, the way he had brought the dangerous little miner down was ee known to have been cleverness, unerring aim, nerve and « not accident. Just how he would behave with Doc Denning off on the coach trail.and Buffalo Bill gone from Gold Dust, was a cause of speculation. He certainly had shown a fearless nature in taking : possession of the old haunted fort as his ee and to dwell there alone. : He spent his money freely in fitting ee up, had asked the price of nothing that he cared to purchase, but paid for it without a word, and had given out that he was a gambler—that he intended, upon three nights of the week, to run a faro-bank, wheel of fortune and general gambling den, allowing no drinking, smoking or profanity in his saloon. 10 THE BUPRFALO lf miners wished to come there on those terms, they were welcome; if not, he would see that they stayed away. “Waal, he’s going ter run a Sunday school gambling “eaperance saloon,” was the comment of an old miner, winle another called out: “Yes, that’s jist it, and we'll call him ther Boy Saint "Or ther Gambler Deacon.” “No, call him Pious Willie.” “Thet don't go; make it Saint Peter’s Kid.” And thus names were shouted out for the youth, all bringing a more or less hearty laugh until Dick Drew, who was known as a gambler and tough, and was likewise said to be a friend of the men the youth had slain, added: “Pards, 1 want you all to step up at my expense and drink to the health of the Sunday Sport.’ “The Sunday Sport goes!” “T second the motion,’ “Phat fits him.” “You bet it does !”’ And, with a wild cheer, the health of the “Sunday Sport” was drunk, and hardly had the giasses been tipped, when a clear voice cried: ae ‘ “At my expense, gentlemen, drink again, for I accept your name!” It was the Sunday Sport himself. There was a yell; the glasses were filled up again, and calling for a couple of boxes of cigars the youth himself passed them all around the crowd, and then, with a wave of his hand, went out of the door. “Did fou see that he looked straight in the face of each man here, as he handed a cigar to him?” whispered OS Drew to Wild Walter. SL isaw. it © That night Landlord tapped for order. Doe Denning had come in with his coach an hour be- fore and was with him. All knew Landlord Jerry’s call for é ‘order”’ and obeyed if. . He was liked, respected and obeyed, as a general thing, for his influence was felt. “Gentlemen, a word with you, please.”’ Every glass was set down, every cardplayer waited. “You-all know my young friend, Dare Kingdon, whom you have christened the Sunday Sport? “Well, he has taken possession of the old fort, and € two nights from this opens a gambling saloon there, and calls it his Hall of Fortune. Jerry entered his saloon and “In his name, now, I invite vou all to visit him on his opening night. “His hours are from sunset to midnight; his rules-are a square game and liberal returns if you have luck, with no drinking or profanity.” BILL. SLORIES. “Fightin’ ruled out, too?” asked a voice. “Oh, no; if there is real cause given to draw a gun do so—he’ll keep his reckord up on that, [ guess, if I know anything about him. “As for gambling, you can get all you want there, but if you go there for trouble iy advice is for the one so in- clined to stay away. é “Now, gentlemen, you are invited by the Sunday Sport to drink at his expense, so you see se don't go agairist liquor ; only he does not allow it in his ranch. « “Come up all ly They came up with a will, and then and there all said they would attend the opening of the Sunday Spert’s saloon. CHAP TER Vit A STARTLING METAMORPHSIS. The evening of the opening of the “Fort Saloon” came and found the camps a scene of excitement. All Gold Dust City had decided to go. lor some reason which they themselves could not un- derstand, some of the miners dressed up for the occasion— that is, as far as wild Western toilets were concerned. A light shone brightly at the gate of the fort, and, as the sun had gone down, the miners began to wend their . Way up.the hill, which had several times been saturated with the life-blood of redskins who had attacked the post. They drew near the gruesome place with its stories of ill-omen and its weird romance, all anxious to see just what the “opening’’ meant, and all ready with the cash to test their luck in the new saloon’s games. Reaching the door, it was found to be op voice of the youth called out from within: Ne yourselves at home, gen oo: and receive the uests for me. I will soon be with you.” The large assembly-room of the fort had been made the gambling saloon, and it was well lighted. At one end, just by a door, was a platform on which was a table whereon stood the wheel of fortune. __ To the right of this was the faro table, and about the room were scattered small stands for card playing, dice throwing and other games of chance. It was a gambling den, pure and simple. A notice upon the wall read as follows: en, and the Re LES. j Order must be preseryed, but all differences when life or honor is at stake can be settled by a fair Be -up fight. “No drinki ing allowed, and a dru inkard will be fired, “No smoking allowed, for it clouds the ¢ air to such an extent that a good shot could not see the sights on his revolver. fe “No profanity allowed, for if is degrading and blas- phemous. “All games at the tables af eards, dice-throwing, etc., _ pay five per cent. per game commission to the. house. “The faro table and wheel of fortune will keep bets 5 running against all players. “Gentlemen will abide by the rules of this house, and other than gentlemen will not be tolerated here. “By order of “THE QUEEN OF FORTUNE.” As the men filed in Landlord Jerry and Doe Denning welcomed them, and showed them seats. Those who had expected to be boisterous assumed a “quiet mien, though why they could not tell. There were seats for all save for a few late comers, for no one yet had ascended the platform, where there was one large chair near the faro table and wheel of fortune. ‘Still the young gambler did not appear, and Landlord Jerry called out, as master of ceremonies: “Gents, read the rules while waiting, those of you who can read, and those who can’t better get ’em told to ’em.” Suddenly the door behind the platform was opened and a form appeared. In ‘an instant every eye was riveted upon that form, every voice was as hushed as though-the Angel of Death had appeared in their midst; every eye stared at the pic- ture framed in the doorway ; pipes were put out at the ex- pense of burned fingers, flasks were shoved deep into inner © okets, and men but sat there and looked, and te aid a dead silence. ‘he Boy Gambler? _ dt no longer in male attire! No longer the handsome, reckless youth! But a beautiful girl, robed as a queen. he metamorphosis was a most startling one to that rough crowd! What they beheld was a tall, slender, graceful form, clad in red silk, and with a superb display of diamonds ornamenting her arms, neck, fingers and’ hair. About her waist was a belt with a diamond buckle, and upon each hip rested a gold-mounted revolver, ready for use. Her face was one to fascinate, her grand eyes seeming to rest, individually, upon every face before her. She swept out of the door, leaned one hand upon the table where stood the wheel of fortune, and for a few mo- ments gazed at the upturned faces before her. Then she spoke, and her voice was full, rich and per- - fectly distinct. _ What she said was: “Gentlemen, I welcome you one and all. “You welcomed me as a stranger in your midst and I thank you. “You knew me as Dare Kingdon, the Boy Gambler, and ‘named me, also, as the Sunday Sport—will you not re- _ christen me now that you see me as a girl?” THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. ae - “The Queen of Fortune!’ shouted a voice. A roar of voices took up the name and as the eo bowed there was sudden silence again. “Gentlemen, I have come to make my home among you, for a while: . “Here I shall live; and it will please me to oe ho aa of the Queen of Fortune, and. again, as Dare | : Kingdon, the Sunday Sport. “T feel as safe in your midst as if I were your own sis- ter or daughter. “Here I reign supreme, and here I will risk my luck against yours, and I warn you that 1 was born under a lucky stars. _ “Gentlemen, the games are open!’ and she stepped be- fore the wheel of fortune, and gave it a turn, calling upon Landlord Jerry to deal the cards for her at the faro table, which he cheerfully did. At once the miners of Gold Dust began to play, but there was no shouting, no profanity ; a hushed atmosphere pervaded the place until midnight, when the Queen of Fortune touched her bell, The Girl Gambler had proven her words—she was born under a lucky star. The wheel of fortune had won steadily. : CHAPTER VIII BUFFALO ae PLAYS HIS LONE HAND. Buffalo Bill departed. from Gold Dust City well cae for whatever might befall him. He was mounted upon his very best horse, and carried ~ along a fair match for him which was to serve as a pack- animal for food, clothing and ammunition. In fact, the scout was prepared for a race, a chase, a fight or a siege. His pack horse was so well panel that he did not have to be led, but trotted be ehind as faithfully as a dog would have done. The scout turned the head of his horse toward the Upper Camps, as the mining settlement fifty miles up thes valley above Gold Dust City was called. This settlement was far more scattered than Gold Dust City; the cabins were in the valley and on the mountain, and here and there was a store with a cluster of saloons about it; that was all. — Knows by the rather poetical name of Golden Hope, it was as bad a community as could be found, Gold Dust City really being good in comparison, for the hand of every man there seemed against every other. But, Buffalo Bill had been to Golden Hope before, and knew several miners ‘there, discharged soldiers on the search for gold, and he hoped to ‘glean some information which he could not openly ascertain in Gold Dust Cite. ae 12 : THE BUFFALO He timed his arrival so as to arrive after dark, and had passed several of the cabins along the trail that indicated his being in the settlement, when he met a man whom he asked if he knew a miner by the name of Alf Ellis. ‘I does, and he’s in luck,” was the answer. It will be remembered by the reader that the stage driver had given Alf Ellis as the real natne of one of the outlaws killed when the stage was held up. “Where can I find his cabin?” Buffalo Bill inquired. “Ther trail leads off jist here, and yer follow thet can- yon up a couple o’ miles, and ther cabin ‘sits ter ther left in a hollow—right whar thar is a big cliff ahind it; but I tell yer he is in luck.” “Tam glad to hear it. Has he struck it rich?” “You bet he has; and I’m glad, fer he’s a mighty good feller ; but, he’d better look out close, fer thar is men here who would jump his savings mighty quick. “You be a stranger, ain’t yer?” Yes) “A friend of his ?” ess “Then tell him Caleb Locke says ter sleep with one eye open, arid to-night, too, fer his good luck has come ter ther ears of some as would rather rob a dead man than a live one, thar’s less risk in it.’ _ There was the glimmer of a light down in the hollow and the scout found a little cabin there half hidden away among the rocks and trees. A call brought a man to the door: “Glad to see you, Buffalo Bill,” said the man, heartily, “You are always welcome. I shall never forget the time you saved me from death, at the risk of your own life, when I was caught in that cattle stampede.” The rescue referred to by the miner had taken place _two years before. “Well, I’m very glad to see you, Ellis,” said the scout, swinging to the ground from his saddle. “I want to stop over with you to-night and have a talk about certain things that are puzzling me!” Ellis again assured him that he was welcome, and as- _ sisted in putting the horses in the little stable back of the cabin; after which the miner prepared the best supper his resources afforded. While supper was thus being prepared Buffalo Bill ac- quainted Ellis with the nature of the warning sent by Caleb Locke. “I know the fellow,” said Ellis, deftly turning a flap- jack as he spoke. “He isn’t any too good for a trick like - that himself, in my opinion; but I have done him several favors and he thinks well of me, and so sent that warning. I don’t doubt that he knows what he’s talking about.” Later, Buffalo Bill remarked somewhat suddenly ; “I heard you were killed the other day!” BILL STORIES, The miner looked at him in astonishment. “Some outlaws tried to hold up the Gold Dust City stage, and two of them were killed. The driver of the stage, Doc Denning, stated that the real name of one of the dead men was Alf Ellis,” < A flash of red burned in the face of the miner, followed by a strange pallor. ; “Tell me about it,” he said, dropping the work on which he was engaged. Buffalo Bill told him what he knew of the matter, and gave him the name by which the dead outlaw had been known to the people of Gold Dust City. That the information had come as a shock to the miner was very apparent. : “Describe this dead outlaw to me,” was his request ; and the scout complied. “He looked a good deal like you,” he added. “Buffalo Bill, you are my friend,” was the man’s earnest statement, “and for that reason I am willing to make a confession. ‘That dead outlaw, as I believe, was my brother.” The scout saw that the information he had come for was about to be given. “My name is Alf Ellis, and my brother’s name was Alf Ellis; but his full first name was Alfred, while mine is Alphonse. “Alfred Ellis was my twin. I am sorry to say that he gave himself up to an evil life. I did not know he was in this section, though I knew he was somewhere in the West, and his past was enough to tell me that wherever':~ he was he was not engaged in anything honorable. “We were born in England, but came to this country long ago: Somewhere in the Eastern States my brother married a beautiful and good woman, and lived with her long enough to break her heart. | “After their marriage, to her surprise, she found that she was to have the care of two children, his own, he claimed, by another wife of whom he had told her nothing. “But at last her eyes were opened to his guilt, and she discovered from his own lips, when he lay ill and in delirium, that the children were not his own, that he was keeping them for an Englishman who had kidnaped them in England, and one day they were to bring to him a for- tune when he restored them. “My brother and his wife had much trouble after that, for she had learned that she could not trust him and that he was dishonorable. “The last I heard of them they were at a certain place in Texas. There he abandoned the woman and the two children. No doubt he had grown tired of waiting for the fortune which he hoped to get for keeping the children. At any rate, he disappeared, going to the mines of the West, it) wasisaid, } I i cE a5, “settlement. “T have had some letters from my brother’s wife since then, In them she said that she heard now and then from Alfred, and that he had at intervals sent her a little money, and had promised to return to Texas as soon as he had struck it rich in the mines. “She’ seemed reticent, though, and did not give me much information. And now you tell me that he is dead! For it must be that the dead outlaw: you saw was my prover. | “About these. children,” Buffalo Bill querie later ; “can you tell me anything about them ?” “Her children, as she called those who had so strangely come into her care, had almost grown up, the daughter be- ing a beautiful girl, then teaching school in the frontier The boy was captain of a band of young Texan Rangers and Vigilantes, who kept the country pro- tected from the Mexican raiders and Comanches. “The son I have never seen, but [ heard wonderful tales d, a little of his heroism, splendid horsemanship and great daring. His sister, reared on the frontier, was an expert horse- woman, a dead shot, and from her skill with the lariat had won the name of the Lasso Queen.” CHAPTER IX. SURED Y JUS RICE. ‘aio Bill and Alphonse Ellis had talked for a yn the subject of Ellis’ brother and the children been left with Mrs. Ellis in Texas, the scout re- he ne given by Caleb Locke. #\s (9 the eonclusions to which he was being led by the on told aie miner, the scout was not yet ready to speak. He wanted to get his evidence together and think it over carefully first. ‘Ves, I’ve struck it rich Up fers, said Ellis, “and I don’t doubt that Caleb Locke has heard something which makes him think some of the bad men of the camp will try to get my gold. But they will not get it without a fight.” “Come, bring your blankets,” said Cody, “and we'll camp where we can guard the cabin, arid to-morrow get your gold into the hands of the stage agent for safe keep- “ing and let it be known you keep none here, for that is what tempts them.” “You are still my friend, Mr. Cody,” answered the miner, and half an hour after the two were camped for the night. He had led the scout to a spot from which to command the approach to the cabin and all about it. A large rock stood a hundred feet away, and the top of it was covered by a growth of stunted pines, Buffalo Bill was just dropping off to sleep when he heard a sound that caused him to say - his companion : “Your midnight visitors have come.” PH BUPPALO BIEL SOR TES: The gold miner, aroused by the low words of Buffalo . Bill, was at once ready for action. _ The scout had heard voices, and there soon came into view the shadowy forms of three men. As the trail winding around the rock brought them in full view of the cabin they halted and a voice said: “That’s his layout, and all is dark, so 1 guess he’s gone ter bed.” ' “Does yer reckon he'll open up to us?” “I guess so, for Vl play I’m a pard wantin’ a lodgin’; but ef he don’t open, why we kin jist lay low and git him when he comes out at daylight, for you bet he'll go ter work early. “Then we'll tap him on ther head, and he’s got three horses fer us ter git away on arter we git ther boodle:’ “All right; you know best, pard, so you lead an’ we follers, only I'd like ter lose no time ef we kin do it ter- t and not wait ontil morning.” and he’s a night “Then come al One: pards, ther boodle is ours.” “No! Halt!hands up.” The stern voice came from above them, not twenty feet away, and there were three yells of terror uttered in chorus. dead man and But then the idea of escape dawned upon the ieader of the trio, and he made a sudden bound in flight to fall dead under a shot from the miner. The other two stood trembling with fright and yelled in chorus: “Don’t shoot! don’t shoot! We give up!” It would have been better for them had they been shot then and there. But the scout-and the miner at once came down from the rock. The ruffians were soon made prisoners and securely bound, the dead man being carried with them to the cabin, where all passed the night. It was just sunrise when Buffalo Bill and the miner rode up to the central camp with the body and the two prisoners. Alphonse Ellis was known as a peaceable, hard-work- ing man, who attended to his own business and let that of other people alone. He had lately found gold in large quantities, it was known, and many a poor devil had been the better for it, as he had shared liberally. When, therefore, he came in with Buffalo Bill, and with the corpse of the man he had killed and the two prisoners he had captured, there was at once considerable excite- ment among the miners who were getting their morning drinks at the saloons, or their breakfasts at the eating- houses. Alf Ellis made it his first duty to go to the stage agent’s and get rid of his gold, receiving his receipt for an 14 : | THE BUPPALO BILE STORIES: amount of yellow metal to be sent East, that would pan out a fortune for him. Then he told the crowd of an intended attack upon him under cover of the night, The dead man was recognized as one of the hardest characters about the camp, while his companions, the two prisoners, had often been suspected of crimes. Leaving the prisoners in charge of the camp marshal, Ellis and the scout visited. the nearest hotel for the pur- pose of getting breakfast. When they came out, half an hour later, they found, much to the anger and disgust of Buffalo Bill, that Judge Lynch had taken a hand in the proceedings and the pris- oners had been hanged. CHAP TTR ix. IN A TRAP. The hour was still early when Buffalo Bill rode away on his return trip to Gold Dust City. Riding along at a canter, with his pack-horse keeping close up, as he approached Gold Dust City he passed into "+, a little valley half a mile long by a quarter in width. A narrow pass was the entrance to it, and Buffalo Bill remembered that the exit was very much of the same kind, and he muttered: “A bad place this for a man to be ambushed, for he would be cut off at each pass.” He had hardly uttered the words when he saw several horsemen in the narrow pass before him. And they were coming toward him, their rifles in hand. He halted and glanced behind him, and there he saw three more just coming out of the pe he had just come through. “Five to one—a close call this,” he muttered, as ee un- slung his rifle for use. Buffalo Bill was in a trap and he knew it. If he had any doubt that the men meant mischeif, two things convinced him of it. The first was that he saw that there were five men, all mounted, three ahead, two behind him, and they all wore . black masks. They were armed with rifles, too, and had them ready for use. “Friends of the men who were lynched a while ago,” was the scout’s conclusion. “They charge me with being responsible for that. And very likely some of those rascals yonder were friends of that dead outlaw, Alfred Ellis, and so have a double score to settle with me. All right, let them come on!’ He halted, brought his horses side by side, and stood between them, at bay, his rifle ready to use first upon one party then the other, The masked men, meanwhile, were approaching slowly. When near enough one of them called out: “Ho, Buffalo Bill!” “That’s my name,” “We want you!” “All right! Come and take me.” “We've got you corralled.” “It looks that way certainly.” “Do you surrender ?” “TI rather guess not.” — “Do you wish to die?” shouted back the scout. “Not much, for I’m ta treatment just now to pro- long my life.” “T will offer you terms.” “All right, ’m always ready to make a bargain.” “We know you’re a man who will keep his word.” . “That’s good,” said the scout. _ compliment.” “If you will promise to leave Gold Dust Valley at once and never came back to it, we'll spare your life.” Buffalo Bill laughed oy “Drive on your meat wagon,” he said, no such promise.”’ “We don’t wish to kill you, and you are a fool to throw “tor I will make vour life away; but we will kill you, for we have much to avenge against you, so think it over for ten minutes and then if you refuse our terms, die you shall.’ “Thanks,” and Buffalo Bill was quietly getting ready for action. . His quick aim would bring down one of his foes, per>%™s haps two, before they returned his shots; his horse would protect him in a great measure from a volley, after which he would open again and the fight would be on oF life or death. So he quietly picked out the man he ‘would drop first— the one who had spoken. He began to bring his rifle up for a quick aim, keeping it hidden, however, to the last. In another moment it would have been rattling forth death to some one, when there dashed into the valley a horse and rider. Not an outlaw saw the approach of the one who came through the pass in front of the scout, until, clear and 7>~ ringing, came the words: “Hold there! What does this mean ?” The outlaws heard the voice, turned i in et and be held a woman!’ She was dressed in a blue riding habit, trimmed with gold. An embroidered sombrero was upon her head, and her horse, a superb one, was handsomely equipped. She did not halt, but came on fearlessly, at a run, while again came the words: , “What does this mean 2?” The fair vision swept around the three horsemen, passed “Thank you for the 9 wll a 344 wl - pards, and we wants to avenge ’em. between ther and their comrades toward the other pass, and rode quickly up to Buffalo Bill. There she halted, and facing the three men, called out again: “T asked you what this cowardly attack of five men against one meant?” The masked outlaws seemed completely nonplused. They sat their horses in seeming dismay, not knowing just what to do. But the spokesman found his voice, and responded : “It’s just this, Queen of Fortune: “That thar man is Buffalo Bill, and he’s downed. our But we will let him go, on his promise to leave the valley and never come back to it.” “Are you willin is to accept their terms, sit? and the «young girl turned toward Buffalo Bill, who was astounded at her coming. “I accept no terms, fair pard, with such cattle as they are, and was just getting ready to fight it out when you appeared.” 3? “T will save you,” was the low reply of the girl, and then raising her voice she called out: “Buffalo Bill gives the reply I expected, that he will make no terms with outlaws. I do not care to witness a scene of bloodshed, nor care to see you taken prisoners, carried to Gold Dust and hanged by those who are coming on after me, so I tell you that if you will go now, quickly, _ I will not put Doc Denning and others on your trail. “Will you accept my terms, or wait for my friends, who must soon appear?” “We'll go,” shouted the leader quickly, and the three spurred toward the farther end of the valley. But there was heard again: “You git off this time, Buffalo Bill, ‘cause ther Queen o’ Fortune saves yer ; but jist wait until next time.” “All right—next time,” shouted the scout as the five men were now in full gallop, anxiously looking back to ee if the party with the Girl Gambler did not cee into view. “Well, young lady, I owe you my life. I see that my | boy pard, Dare Kingdon, is a girl,” remarked the scout, as he held out his hand, which the young gambler warmly grasped, “Come, mount and ride back with me,” I have no one near, as I implied.” “So I thought. It was just like you. But, what shall I call you now, Girl Pard, since you have come out in your true colors, and no longer play the boy?” he asked. “Call me Girl Pard, for I like the name, though the miners have christened me the Queen of Fortune.” “You shed your male attire, then, when you opened your gambling den?” she said, ‘‘for THE BURPALD BILL STORIES, “Yes, atid had a crowded house. Why, the men wer- fairly startled when Dare Kingdon was metamorphosed into a girl; and they treated me with the most marked Téspect.”” “Oh, yes; all but a few would do that, and those’ who felt like treating you otherwise would be kept down by fear, for the better element would stand no nonsense. “But, may I thank you for your great service to me in being my fair defender? Why did you appear as a ns oe “As for my masquerading in male attire, why, a man can go where a woman cannot and can do what one of the fair sex, as we are called, dare not. — “I shall not yet make known to’ you my secret, though I trust you fully; but I will tell you that I came here on a special mission, and I expect, some day, to have to ask your aid in accomplishing it. “T will go back to Gold Dust City alone, and you must follow later. My evenings are three times a week, so come to-morrow night with the others to see me; but do not come alone, for I receive no one at my cabin alone. “Good-by far the present!” They had passed out of the valley now, and she held out her hand in farewell. & CHAPTER. XI. PICKING UP CLEWS. Buffalo Bill rode on slowly after the Gambler Queen left him, and his mind was busy conning over his late adventure with the outlaws, from whom she had so cley- erly rescued him, doubtless from certain death. He. knew that she did not wish to be seen riding into the camp. with him, and he had no desire to disregard her wishes in that respect. He saw that her trail branched off from the main one a mile farther on, and knew that she could enter the vailey at another point; but how it was that she, a young girl, knew the trails so well he could not understand. “A young girl, yes, but with a deadly eye and nerves of fine spun steel. “T wonder why she comes here,” he rode on. Thus cogitating, Buffalo Bill rode on his way, his pack-horse keeping close up behind. Nodding pleasantly as here and. there he passed a miner’s camp, he at length rode up to the Good Luck Inn. Doc Denning was there and greeted him warmly, adding : “T’ve got a surprise fer yer “What is it, Doc?” the scout asked. “Why; ther boy is a gal! Ther kid wears petticoats! She ain’t no young man, but is ther sweetest leddy I ever muttered the scout, as 16 seen, and gambles as she shoots—ter win! But, here comes Landlord Jerry, and when 1 gits su’thin’ ter eat I kin talk, and. will, you bet!” Buffalo Bill could see by the glances cast upon him by the numerous idlers standing about that they wondered at his coming back to Gold Dust City so soon. He, apparently, did not notice this scrutiny, but he did -Sharply scan the face of every man he saw so that he would know it again. After a little, the scout went inside with Doc Den- ning and Landlord Jerry for a talk. Though he felt secure in his two allies, Buffalo Bill was one to go catitiously in all that he did. That the best of men went wrong at times, he had pain- fully learned in his wide experience. Landlord Jerry and Doc Denning were trusty and true. ~ The driver, however, was a great talker, and the former at tunes got on a spree. A talking man often says far more than he intended, and when a man drinks he loses his discretion. So the scout, planning with exceeding caution, consider- ing the snares he well understood were laid for him, went ahead slowly. Cody began his search for infornfation as soon:as they were alone together. “Doe,” he began, “I remember you said the real name of that outlaw who was with the gang that tried to hold up the stage, and was killed there, was Alf Ellis. Tell me something about him, if you can.” : Landlord Jerry made answer, for he seemed to be better posted: ; “Well, it’s little I know, or any one else, I guess, for there was always something queer about him. He first appeared