Issued Weekly.

No. 133.

 

 

 

 

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Is it war, pards, or peace? cried Buffalo Bill as he brought his horse to a halt before the hotel piazza on which the
Giant Sports, with drawn revolvers, were lurking behind the pillars.

 
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__ 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, dy STREET & SMITH, 278 Wiliam St., IV. Y.

Entered according to Aci of POET ESS in the year 1903, tn the Office of the Librarvan of Congress, Washington, D. C.

 

 

~ No. 133.

NEW YORK, November 28,

<AD

1903. Price Five Cents.

 

 

 

By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.”

 

CHAPTER [.
AN INSULT RESENTED.

Buffalo Bill rode slowly into Poker City, and up to the
principal hotel.

Hardly had he done so, when the stage horn was heard
ringing through the valley, and all in the barroom stam-
peded for the piazza.

Up dashed the Overland stage, six-in-hand, driven by
Andy Rush, the crack driver on the road.

_ Upon each side of the driver sat an individual of strik-
g@ appearance, as regarded looks and general make-up.
| They were almost giants in size, weighing fully two
andre and fifty pounds each, measured six feet six
inches in their stocking feet. They were dressed in buck-
“skin leggings, panther-skin sack coats,in spite of the warm
weather, and wore caps of wildcat skins, the heads in

“front, the tails hanging down their backs.
Their hair was very long and their beard, too.

| was a blond, the other a brunette.

| Their faces were cruel, sinister and brutal, and as they
“sprung to the ground from the box, they showed the agil-

  

 

 

One

 

   

ity of cats, alighting very easily, it seemed, in spite of their
weight.

They were thoroughly armed, that was evident, and a
more savage pair even Poker City did not care,to claim
as citizens.

“Who in thunder be they?” asked one of the by-
standers.

The question was answered by Andy Rush, the driver,
who called out to the landlord:

“Gov’nor, 1 hes brought yer this trip as hash eaters,
these two pilgrims, as says they is trav’lin’ fer fun, an’ |
told ‘em this were ther place ter git all they wanted. In-
side ther hearse ar’ a young leddy thet are sunshine ter
look onter, an’ seems out o’ place in these heur wild
diggin’s.’’

All present were gazing at the two passengers whom
Andy had designated as “pilgrims in search of fun.”
Now they glanced at the fair passenger, just as she placed
a small foot upon the step to alight. Observing her, one
of the pair of giant amusement seekers sprung forward
to her aid, seized her in his arms, and carried her toward
the piazza of the hotel, to the astonishment of all present.

 
THE BUFFALO

The huge borderman who had taken the girl in his
atms, in spite of her indignant cry of alarm, was the
brunette of the pair of giants.

He deliberately walked with her to the piazza, and, still
iolding her firmly in his grasp, for she was powerless to
resist, said, in an insolent tone:

“{ charge a kiss from them pretty lips for my sarvices.”

“As he spoke he deliberately drew the face of the girl
toward his huge, bewhiskered mouth, when there came
a sharp report of a pistol. The bully uttered a curse, and

started back, releasing the girl from his grasp, and she

took refuge, with a glad cry, inside of the door.

“Hold on, my man, tor I've got you covered!”

The words were uttered in the clear voice of Buffalo
Pil, add a revolver covered each one of the giant bullies.
“Durn yer, yer hes declar'd war, hes yer? yelled the
bully, facing Buffalo Bill, yet seeing that in the man
which prevented him from drawing his revolver and risk-
ing a shot. His companion seemed to feel the same way,
for, though his hand rested on his weapon, it was not
drawn from the holster.

“Yes, I declare war against any brute who insults a
woman, and I should have killed you; instead, I was mer-
ciful, and merely clipped a piece of your ear off to add
to your beauty,’ was Buffalo Biull’s quiet response.

There was no doubt that the bully’s ear had been cut
by Buffalo Bill’s surely aimed bullet; but that it added to
the beauty of the giant, all doubted.

“You is havi’ fun rather suddint, pards.
Poker City were ther boss place ter inj’y yerselves,’
Andy Rush, who had dismounted from his box.

“Who are your” growled the brunette giant, savagely,
addressing Buffalo Bill, and walking to the side of his

companion.

I toid yer

’ cried

“Vil interdoose yer, pards; thet are Butfalo Bill,”
Andy Rush.

at was evident from the start both men gave at the
mame, that the scout was not unknown to them, at leas

cried

Bill and Brunette Bill from Montana, an’ they hes been
cirkilatin’ around ther kentry chawin’ up leetie folks, so
they tells me, an’ havin’ lots o’ fun.

“They was a-pressin’ the’r notice on thet purty lady on
her way over, an’ she give ’em ter onderstan’ she didn’t
vant ter hev anything ter say to ’em; but they kep’ it up,
an’ [ was too durned skeert of ’em to chip in, so I thanks
yer fer amusin’ ’em, fer thet is what they hes comed heur
fer.

“Do you wish to press this matter, or let it drop?’
asked Buftalo Bill, addressing the man he had wounded,
from whose disfigured ear the blood was dripping.

“We are strangers, an’ you hold ther drop on us, so
I says let up,” said the man known as Brunette Bill.

“And [say put up yer weepin now, but sail in any other
time yer likes,” added Blond Bill.

“J seek no quarrel with either of you, and warn you
#9 seek none with me.

“You go your way, and I'll go mine; but, as I have
resented an insult to that lady, I tell you now, if you
repeat it even by look, Ill hold you to answer.”

As Buffalo -Bill spoke, he lowered his revolvers,

 

 

 

Bic STORIES.

replaced them in his belt, and turned into the hotel, where
the landlord said:

“The young lady wishes to see you, Bill, in the parlor.”

“Tell her I’ve gone, Dave, for I hate to be thanked,”
and the scout turned to retreat, when a sweet voice cried:

“But I know you are not gone, sir; and 1 do so wish
to thank you for your kindness to me, an unprotected
girl.”

The scout flushed, as he found he was fairly caught,
for the young lady had headed him off in the hall.

Ee saw before him a face and form which no tan
could behold once and not wish to see again.

Tt was a youthful face, with large, dreamy, blue eyes,
and a form as graceful as a willow.

The girl was dressed in a dark gray traveling suit,
wore a black felt hat, in which was a black ostrich plume,
and had across her arm a cloak. In her hands she heid
a satchel, as though she had waited, just as she got off of
the stage, to thank the man who had so promptly resented
the insult to her.

“T saw your brave act, sir, and I] thank you from my
heart, though you punished that wretch rather severely.”

“Not as much as he deserved, miss.”

The girl seemed to want to continue the conversation.

“You are certainly a wonderful shot, sir, and a bold
one, to attempt what you did, for the bullet was within
two inches of my face.”

“In this country a man has to bea dead shot, miss, or
lose his life, for desperate games are played here for life
and death every day.

“But [ meant not to boast, and will not detain you. My
name is Cody; and if those rascals annoy you any more,
just send for me.”

»Une Inoment, Meee Cody,”

The scout hesitated.

“What was the name you were called by the driver?”

“Bittalo Bill, they call me.”

“Are you the Burfalo Biull who has won such a famous
namie as a scout along the border ?”

“Tam a government scout, miss,” was the answer.

“Now I have seen you, | do not wonder that men tell
strange stories of your deeds.

“IT expected to see, if I ever met you, aman not unlike
the one who instited me; but I find in Ruffalo Bill a true
man, and a gentleman.”

The scout bowed, and again started to leave the parlor,
when again the maiden detained him.

“One moment, please.”

“I came here on an important mission, and am alone
and friendless.

“This is no place for such as I am, well I know; but
I am impelled by duty in coming here, and I need some
one to aid and advise me.

“I have money, and am able to pay for services ren-
dered, and ] ask you to continue to be my friend, and I
will make known to you the secret of my coming.”

“T will do all Lcan, miss, and a

“My name is Edna Insley, sir.”

“Well, Miss Insley, command my service in anyway
you wish, but remember, I serve you not for pay.” —
“Nor would I ask you to, only there will be expenses
incurred in serving me, which I will defray; but I detain
you now, I fear.”

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“Ts it urgent that I act for you at once?” asked Buf-
falo Bill, in a meditative way.

“No, not for several days, if you have other engage-
ments.”

“T have something to do that will keep me for a few
days, and perhaps a week. I intend starting at dawn
to-motrow..to attend in it

“Upon my return I will be wholly at leisure.”

“Then I will wait until you return, Mr. Cody; but if
disengaged this evening, I will make known to you my
mission here, and then perhaps you can settle upon some

lan that is best for me to follow.”

Buffalo Bill promised to see her after supper, and left
the parlor, going into the bar, where Carrots, the bar-
tender, was busy with the two Giant Bills, as already the
huge pair had been christened in Poker City.

“Bill, I wants yer ter drink with me,” cried Andy Rush,
the driver, as he saw Buffalo Bill.

Drawing him up to one end of the bar, he continued, in
a low tone:

“AIL ther way over I were a-prayin’ thet you might be
in Poker City an’ them two pick you up fer a row, an’ my
prayer were answered.

Yen see, they has been terrers all through ther up-
kentry, an’ I were warned, when I took ’em on ther hearse
thet ther boys of Poker City had better look out.

“T tell yer, they hes tarned toes up ter ther daisies in
every town they hes been, an’ I never expected ter see
’em wilt as they did ter- -day.

“But they hes horse*sense, an’ they see you were dead
sure of ’em ef they didn’t squ’al, an’ so they squole; but
yer keep yer eye on ‘em, Bill boy, fer they means yer mis-
chief. They hes already said, that ter-morrer they will
drive yer out o’ this camp.

“Now, thet are ther Giant Bills’ threat, an’ I warns

eri

“Well, they may do it, Andy, for they are ugly cus-
tomers to deal with, | am certain;” and, with a light
laugh, Buffalo Bill turned away, and went in to dinner,
which was by no means a commonplace meal at the Ran-
cheros’ Exchange.

By the time “he had finished his dinner, he had been
visited by a dozen friends, and received as many wretch-
edly scrawled notes, all telling him that the giants had
made the threat to drive him out of Poker City the next
day.

CHAP ER:
EDNA INSLEY’S MISSION TO POKER CITY.

True to his promise, Buffalo Bill sent word to the fair
guest of the Rancheros’ Exchange that he was ready to
see her.

Her coming had mystified the citizens of. Poker City
immensely. All the miner swells and young shopkeepers,
not to speak of the cowboys, who were quite numerous in
ee vicinity, had visited the hotel in the hope of seeing

er.

The fame of her beauty had spread like wild-fre; also
the act of Buffalo Bill, and the pair of strangers had come
in for their share of talk. The result was that Carrots
was kept busy dispensing spirits to those who were
athirst.

   

THE BUFFALO

   

   

BILL STORIES. 3

Now, the Exchange was by no means a grand hotel in
any sense of the word, for it was built of boards, and was
not even an imposing structure, but it was a comfortable
tavern for that wild land, its table was good, and some
of its rooms that pretended to luxury were at least not
uncomfortable.

Edna Insley had been given the star chamber, which
was a bedroom, and small cuddy, designated a parlor, at-
tached.

Into this private parlor Buffalo Bill was ushered. He
found the girl looking more beautiful than ever, in a
pretty wrapper, which she had exchanged for her travel-
ing dress,

‘Be seated, Mr. Cody, and first let me tell you that the
chambermaid says those two wretches have openly threat-
ened to drive you from Poker City to-morrow,” said the
girl, somewhat anxiously.

Buffalo Bill smiled, and answered:

“Their threat has been repeated to me by many, Miss
Insley; and, as I leave before daybreak, they may have
the credit of driving me off—until my return.”

There was significance in the last three words of the
scout, which.Edna Insley could not fail to see, and she
gave a slight shudder, but answered:

“Well, as you seem wholly capable of taking care of
yourself, I will only say be careful.

“Now, let me tell you why I am here.”

“I will gladly listen, miss.”

- “Did you ever hear of a miner in this region by the
name of Anson Boyd?”

“TI do not remember such a name.”’

“T believe he was known as Old Moonlight, as he was
wont to work all day, and on moonlight nights, too.”

“Ah, I have heard such a name spoken of among the
miners, and believe that he died in the mountains.”

“So it was said. He had a pard, as they call comrades
here, known as Prince Henry, from his elegance, even in
miner dress.”

“I have heard of him, too. He is now living in some
Indian village, I believe, as it is unhealthy for a man of
his constitution in Poker City.

“Mr. Cody, that is the mian I am in search off said
Edna, earnestly.

Buffalo Bill looked his surprise, but said nothing.

“You wonder why I should wish to find a renegade ?”

“Tt do wonder at it,” was the frank reply.

“Well, I will explain by telling you that Andy Boyd
was my father.’

“Your father ?”

“Yes; his name was Andy Boyd Insley, a a he dropped
his last name in coming here.

“When I was but fourteen years of age, now five years
ago, my father, who was a merchant, was ruined in busi-
ness by his partner, and we were left poor.

“Unable to behold my mother and myself in poverty,
my father left us one night secretly; and then we found,
from a letter sent us the following day, that he had gone
West to try to dig a fortune for us out of the mines.

“He left us just enough to live on, and said he would
return in three or four years.

“The gold fever here was then at its height, as you may
remember, Mr. Cody, and my father etek a. good lead,
and soon wrote that he was doing splendidly.
 

 

 

was

 

SASS

4 THE BUFFALO

“FTe sent us money from time to time, and we changed
our humble quarters for better ones, and I went to a
fashionable boarding school.

“A year ago my. father wrote that he had amassed a
large fortune, had sent his partner for wagons, and they
were to come East and bring their gold.

“That partner was. Prince Hal, who had saved my
father’s life one day, and thus had bound him to him in
bonds of gratitude and friendship.

“Some time passed away, and then my mother and I

received 2 visitor.

“Who should it be but Prince Hal, who gave his real
name as Henry Hammond.

“A bitter story he had to tell of a robbery of the’wagon
train by mountain robbers, the killing of my father, and
his escape only by accident, after being wounded.

‘Fle gave us some money, which he said had belonged
to my father, and been on deposit in a border town, and
neither my mother nor myself had reason to doubt his
‘story.

‘He was a man of fascinating manners, considerably
older than myself. After a few weeks’ acquaintance, he
asked me to become his wife.

“T admired the man, yet did not love him, and told him
so; but he was urgent, my mother seemed anxious to have
me marry him, for she was an invalid, and I told him I
would give him my answer on the morrow.

“That night my mother awakened from a sound sleep
with a ringing shriek. Springing to her side, I found her
gasping for breath, and bleeding at the lungs.

“Hurriedly, I sent.a servant for our physician; and
then heard from her lips that she had had a fearful dream,
in which she had seen Henry Hammond killing my father
in a lonely mountain pass.

“The struggle to aid him, in her sleep, had been too -

much for her, and had brought on the hemorrhage which
caused her death, for she died soon after the physician
arrived. ;

“The next day Henry Hammond called, and I told him
all, and told him to leave me forever.

“Then the tiger in his nature broke out, and he swore
and threatened in the very presence of my poor dead
mother, until I told him I would have him arrested ang
tried for the charge, and J would have detectives sent to
the mines to look up the facts.

“This caused him to leave me; and I have not seen him
since.

“But some weeks ago I picked up a frontier paper, and
saw that Prince Hal, a miner, had been implicated in rob-
bing a stage, and was discovered to be one of a gang of
road agents.

“Then the belief that my mother’s dream was true took

full possession of me; and, Mr. Cody, I have come here:

to find if he is the murderer of my father, and, if so, to
seek revenge.”

“And you shali have it, Miss Insley. I will find this

rince Hal for you, and wring from him a confession of
what was the true fate of your father,” said Buffalo Bill,
earnestly.

“Only wait patiently my return, and, while in Poker
City, keep out of the way of the giants. Good-night.”

So saying, Buffalo Bill left the room. Half an hour
before dawn, he was riding out of Poker City.

   

BILL STORIES.

CHAPTER ITI.
GOVERNOR DAVE GETS A “SURPRISE.”

The week of absence which Buffalo Bill had allowed
himself upon leaving Poker City had passed, and the fair
dweller in the Rancheros’ Exchange was growing anxious
about him.

The mystery of her visit to Poker City, Edna Insley
had not explained, even to the more than attentive land-
lord. She held no conversation with any one, other than
the chambermaid and her host; and with the latter she
exchanged very few words, for she could but notice that
he was anxious to be agreeable.

Since her coming, he had ‘‘spruced up,’ put on a
“boiled shirt,” tied his cravat (which before was never

done), and dressed in his best clothes every day, even |

going so far as to black the front of his boots, never ex-
pecting that Edna would discover the unpolished heels,
as he always backed out of her presence.

A perfect horsewoman, Edna had taken an afternoon
gallop each day.

But the days dragged slowly, as she feared that some-
thing might occur to cause Buffalo Bill to disappoint her,
and she ‘became more impatient as the time went by.

The two giant sports, as they called themselves, had

been terrorizing the town most shamefully. It was only.

when she was told by the obsequious landlord that they
were taking their afternoon siesta, that she trusted herself
out on horseback. :

She had seen, from her window, scores of men fly
before the two desperadoes, and had been told that one
of them had already killed four men, and the other three,
since their arrival in Poker City.

The giants had the best seats at the Ranchero’s Ex-
change-table, got the best food, were waited on at the bar
first by Carrots, the bartender, no matter who was prés-
ent, and won large sums of gold nightly by cheating, at

"a gambling place known as the Palace of Fine Arts.

They were running amuck with a rein more free than
perhaps they would otherwise have done, from the fact
that they had given out they would drive Buffalo Bill out
of Poker City, and he had departed that very night, with-
out even waiting to be driven.

They gloated over this; and the citizens of Poker City
were dumfounded at the unaccountable conduct of their
hero.

That he was gone, was certain.

Seated at the window of her room one afternoon, after
having just returned from her ride, Edna Insiey saw a
horseman coming up the valley.

At first she feared it was Buffalo Bill, much as she had
hoped for his coming. The giants were seated on the
piazza below, and she could hear their hoarse voices and
rude laughter. That was why she feared the coming
horseman might be the scout.

Taking an opera glass from her bureau, she leveled it
at the horseman.

“Thank Heaven, it is not Mr. Cody. It is an old man,
and he has quickened the pace of his horse.”

She closed the glass, but still watched the horseman,
who rode up to the hotel stables and disappeared from

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THE BUPFALO

That his coming interested her, she had no idea, until
she heard a knock at the door, and the landlord entered.

“Miss Insley, there is an old mountaineer here, who
says he would like to see you.”

“To see me?” she asked in surprise.

O¥es, miss.”

“Who is-her?

“We call him Old Buckskin, and he is a scout,
and hunter.”

“Very well, I will see him, sir,” said Edna, and soon
after the Governor ushered into the room Old Buckskin.

Off came his hat, and, bowing low, he said:

“Yer sarvint, mam; Ire as tickled ter see yer as tho’
Vd.tun asnail in my foot.”

Edna smiled, and motioned to him to be seated. The
landlord seemed about to accept the invitation, too, but
was squelched by Old Buckskin, who said:

“Say, pard, if you hes bizziness with the leddy, [ll call
agin.’

VO, To. I merely wished to see if Miss Insley needed
my services,” said the nonplused landlord.

“No, thank you,” was Edna’s ay reply, with a smile.

The landlord at once bowed, and backed himself out,
and they heard his retreating footsteps down the hall.

“Well, sir, may I ask you why you called upon me?’
said Edna, quietly, looking at the quaint old ‘man with
considerable interest.

“Yas, miss, that is what I hes come ter tell yer.

“Yer see, I are a guide, scout, an’ sich, an’ I——

“She (3 Y

The old hunter stopped talking, motioned to Edna to
keep quiet, and, drawing a revolver from his belt, whis-
pered:

“Don’t git skeert, but jist watch me skeer him up.”

With the word, he leveled the weapon at the door and
fired.

There was a startled yell outside, and a rushing of feet.
Springing to the door, Old Buckskin threw it open just
in time to see the tails of the landlord’s best coat and
unblacked boot-heels going round the corner of the hail.

In spite of her sudden alarm at the act of Old Buck-
skin, Edna Insley broke into a ringing fit of laughter at
the flight of Governor Dave, which was the nickname by
which the landlord was most generally -known. His ear
had been at the keyhole, and above his head the bullet
had passed in most dangerous proximity.

The next instant Governor Dave, white and red by
turns, Carrots, and several others, came crowding up the
Steps,

“What was that shot?’
lessly.

Nuthin’ more’n one 0’ my weepins goin’ off durn ed
suddint by accidint, an’ skeerin’ ther young leddy, g gov ner.

“V'll putty up ther bullet hole an’ pay fer da amidges
when I comes down.”

“I hope you was not alarmed, Miss Insléy,” volun
Governor Dave.

“I should have been more alarmed, sir, had vou been
hurt,” said the girl, with her sweetest smile.

Dave saw he was suspected, and, with a bow, backed
off again, this time not so curious as he was before.
“Waal, ef he didn’t skip lively, I are a weepin’ liar,

trapper,

39

 

cried the Governor, breath-

teered

may detain me

    

    

Di Sl OR Tis. 5

miss; but it were fun ter see him run, an’ I guesses he
hevn’t got ther cur’osity he did hev.”

Edna again laughed at the comical affair, and Old
Buckskin went on with his explanation of why he had
called upon her.

“As, | were goin’ ter tell yer, leddy, ve been up in

the mountains, and while there I met ther gent as is

knowed as Buffalo Bill.”

“You have seen Mr. Cody, then?” eagerly asked the
maiden.

“Mister who, leddy?”

“Buffalo Bill, as he is called here?”

“Yas, I hes seen him.”

“Where is he now?”

“Tn ther-mountains.”

“When did you see him?”

“Three days ago.”

“Did he send me any message?”

“Thet are what I are gettin’ at, leddy.”

E bes pardon,’

“It are granted, but fer what, durned ef I knows.
Waal, I seen ther scout, as I were a-sayin’, an’ he says,
says he:

““Old Buckskin, how is yer?’

“I told him I were purty peert, consid’rin’, and says he:

“Don’t yer want ter do suthin’ fer me?’

Says: |:

“loess,

“Says he:

“ “Waal, I promised ther purtiest leetle leddy in these
heur parts > them was his words ledd ly—‘ter guide her up
in ther mountins, on ther trail of a man she wanted to
sarcumvint.

““But I are engaged, at present, in a leetle matter as
some time,’ says he.

‘So,’ says he, ‘ef yer’d be so good as ter act as guide
fer her, Pll foller on yer trail as soon as I gets rid o’ this
present biz.’

“Waal, leddy, J told him I were ther man, an’ axed
him what were ter be did.

"Does yer know Prince Henry?’ he axed me.

“T said as how I know’d him most durned well.

“ VEhen it -are ter take ther leddy ter thet man, were
his remarks.

“Then he added:

“But when yer see ther leddy, she will tel
is ter be did, an’, mind yer, ef he gits hurte
you responsible.’

“Now, leddy, heur I are, an’ I kin guide yer clean ter
kingdom come, ef ae like to go thet far.” ae

“No, thank you, Mr. Buckskin, I only desire to find the
man who is known as Prince Har try,” said Edna in a dis-
appointed tone, for she had desired Buffalo Bill for her
guide, and not Old Buckskin.

“I knows whar he kin be found, an’ I'll take yer thar.’

“Mar. Cody certainly felt you could be trusted, or he
would not have-sent you,” said Edna.

“Sartin! I kin be trusted, I’ll_sw’ar; fer J
with myself, leddy. When

or

“T have half a mind to wait until Mr. Cody returns, so
he can-go with us.”

“It might be well, leddy; but it are my opi’n thet snow

yer jist what
jis st

hold

is acquainted
does yer think yer’d ‘Vike ter

 
 

    

6 . THE BUFFALO

are goin’ ter fall soon this heur season. My old bones tell
me it are in ther air; so yer hes no time ter lose, ef yer
are in a hurry.”

“Tt would be impossible to go after the winter sets in,
I suppose?” :

“Fer your tender body, leddy, it w’udn’t be healthy, tho’,
for the likes 0’ my old carkiss it w’dn’t hurt much. If I
did git freezed thar w’u'd be nobody ter mourn fer me.
Durned ef I believe even a wolf wud find me wuth
howlin’ over.”

The girl was touched by the sad manner of the old
man. Her position, too, was a lonely one, and a tfellow-
feeling excited her sympathy for him.

Not wishing to get an attack of “the blues,” she ban-
ished brooding thoughts from her mind, and said:

“Then you think it is best to start soon?”

SL dees.”

“When ?”’

“T is ready when you is, leddy.”

“Then I shall purchase the horse I have been riding,
and leave necessary preparations in your hands. Here is
some gold for you to buy an outfit for us.”

“Ver is all bizziness, leddy, an’ I loves ter sarve them
kind. Now, I'll be off; an’ like as not we'd better light
off ter-night.”’

“Vou anticipate danger?’

“Folkses is durned cur’ous in these parts.”

“And might ask where we were going?”

“No,'they doesn’t ask; they follers an’ finds out.”

“Then we will go to-night. I will be ready.”

y

“T will send up fer yer about gamblin’ time. Keep

dark, even ter ther landlud. He are ther most curisome
of ’em all, as yer hes seen; an’ he might put a man on our
trail right off suddint, ef he hed time ter send him.”

“T will be guided by you in the matter.”

“Ver is right, fer I knows. Now, git yer traps ter-
gether. Ef yer hes any waluables, don’t yer leave ‘em
heur, but take "em with yer.

‘When yer comes back yer’ll want ‘em, an’ they mout
not be heur;.an’ ef yer don’t come back, then it don't
make no diff’rence.

‘Wear yer warm clothin’, leddy, an’ take yer wrap-
pin’s, fer ther nights is durned cold.

“Vl be hear all right, don’t you fear. At ther last
minute you kin buy ther horse from ther Guv’ner.”

With this, Old Buckskin left the room, and Edna Insley
at once began preparations for her dangerous trip into
the mountain fastnesses, to solve the mystery of her
father’s death, and to avenge him if she found that the
man who pretended friendship had been treacherous.

ClPA PER by.
THE DEPARTURE,

When the chambermaid of the Exchange called at the
Palace of Fine Arts, where Governor Dave was spending
the evening, and informed him that “the pretty lady in
the parlor rooms wanted to see him immegiate,” the land-
lord hastily departed for his hotel.

It was after midnight, and, to his surprise, he found
Edna Insley all robed in her riding habit, and with a
satchel and roll of wraps in her hand. :

  

BILL STORIES.

“Why, Miss Insley!” he exclaimed in wonder.
“Governor Dave, I am sorry to have troubled you, but
I have received news that calls me away at once, and I
wish to pay the bill, and also make a purchase of you.”
“Why, Miss Insley!’ again gasped Dave.

“T would like you to keep my trunk, and reserve my ’

rooms for me, for I shall not be gone very long, I think.”

“But no stage goes until noon to-morrow.”

“Tam not going by stage, Governor.”

“There is no other way that I can think of.”

“T am going on horseback, and I wish to purchase from
you the bay horse I have been riding since my sojoprn
here.” :

‘(Wonder is an expensive horse, Miss Insley.”

“T asked you his price, sir?’

“It-is very steep.”

“Name it, and I will pay you.”

Dave was silent a moment, and then it flashed through
his mind to make a ten-strike just here.

So he said:

“Miss Insley, the eyes of the city are on that horse, for
he has not his superior in these parts, and I may say not
his equal in speed and bottom, unless I except Buffalo
Bill’s horse, Midnight, which is a good animal.

“T let you have that horse to ride, because I saw you
was a good rider, and I liked you, and now you ask me
his price. It is that you accept him as a present from me.”

“No, no, Governor Dave; I would not for a moment
think of such a thing, for 1 am but a stranger to you, as
you are to me.”

“Wonder is your horse, Miss Insley; I insist upon it.”

“And I decline to accept him; so shall have to look
elsewhere for an animal, and it puts me to considerable
inconvenience at this late hour.”

The Governor was nonplused; but, feeling piqued at
her refusal, he was determined upon a slight revenge, and
said coldly:

“T would not inconvenience you, Miss Insley, for the
world, so will sell you Wonder, if you will give the price
T ask.”

“Name it.”

“One thousand dollars.”

“Here is the money, sir. Now, for the saddle and
bridle 2”

“A hundred more.”

“Here, please, see that it is right; and give me a bill
of sale for the animal, and also my board bill.”

“Deuce take her! she’s all business,’ muttered Dave;
but he said politely :

“Excuse me while I sign my check.”

Once out of the parlor, he called to a man in the office:

“Tim, here is a dollar for you. Go and tell Trailer
Tom to come here at once, mounted for a trip.”

The man disappeared, and the Governor returned to
the parlor, and, armed with pen, ink, and paper, made out
the bill for Wonder, and the board bill, to which, spite-
fully, he had tacked a dollar a day more than it
amounted to. .

Without a word, Edna Insley paid it; then said:

“Please order my horse saddled and brought to the side
door, Governor Dave.”

He obeyed her. When the horse was ready, he eeeorred

 

 

fe

 

 

z 5

 

 
 
 
 
  
     
 

 

 

 

her out, and found there Old Buckskin, mounted and
awaiting her.

“Oh, you are the guide for Miss Insley ?” he said.

“T are ther photograph of one, pard Guv’ner,” was the
calm reply.

Refusing his aid, Edna sprung lightly into the saddle
hung her ‘satchel on one horn, and, the landlord having
already strapped the roll of wraps on, she said coldly :

“Remember to keep my rooms, if you please.”

“T’ll do it, never fear; but I hope you are not going far,
as there’s snow in the air.”

“Whatever distance I go, sir, | think Mr. Buckskin will
be able to take care of me; good-night.”

“Hel he! he! Guv’ner, yer got it thet time, fer sartin.
Good- ae a

Old Buckskin followed on after Edna, just as a horse-
man dashed up to the door.

The old ae locked back, saw the oe a
neat Dave, and the two enter into conversation tog
and he muttered:

“They is a-hatchin’ out deviltry, leddy; but I guesses
we kin sarcumvint ’em.”

The horseman who dashed up to the door, as Edna
and Old Buckskin rode away, was a-man well known in
Poker City as the best Indian trailer in that part of the
country.

He had a talent for following “blind trails,” where
other men would give them up, and had won the sobriquet
of. Trailer Tom,

His dress was half miner, half Indian, for he wore leg-
gins and moccasins, and a. woolen shirt and sombrero.

He was armed with three revolvers, a knife, and a rifle,
and his horse was certainly a good one.

‘Well, Guv’ner, what are ther rackit? Tim told me ter
come a-humpin’ it, as tho’ ther devil were on my trail,’
he said, as he drew rein by the hotel door.

“T want you for a little trip, Trailer Tom, and will pay
well for it.”

“Count on me évery time, Guv’ner; what’s to be did?”
“Come in and have suthin’.”

iW do, it. Veer night are
my elbow won’t go ag’in me.’

The three entered the bar toget ther. As the light fell
upon the face of Trailer Tom, it oe a countenatice
that was bold, yet | cruel and reckles

“Whatllit be, Tom?”

“T drinks brandy straight when I is treated, and whiskey
when I hes ter pay fer it. This.time it are brandy, Car-
rots; an’ don’t yer give me ther tanglefoot bottle, fer I’m
drinkin’ with ther Guv’ner.”

Carrots put up a bottle that was satisfactory; and the
two drank, and then walked together into the private
office.

“Did you see two people ride away just before you
come, Tom 2

WVas”

“Who were they ?”

“Thet feller as I hed a row with onct, Old Buck, an’
t’other were a petticoat,”

“Right.”

“Allus are, Guv’ner,’

a you sce ‘which trail they took?”

Sol

a leetle cold, an’ crookin’

THe BUEFALO BIEL STORIES:

  

“You didn’t look back.”

“T sees without looking back, Guv’ner.”

“Well, which trail was it?’

the ledge road.”

“I thought so, from the way they were going. Now, I
want you to follow them.”

“EI do 46.2

“Bring me a straight story of what:that girl is about
“ip Here te the mountains, and you can have the amount
of her board bill for the ten days she was here.”

_How much?’
“She paid me ten dollars a day, for she had the parlor
rooms.’

“T wish she'd ’a ’ hed ther whole house; but Ill do ther
work fer yer, Guv’ ner

“Then you must start at once.”

“Soon as I get an X for current expenses, an &. leetle
more o’ the brandy ter keep ther heart in me.”

“You had one drink, Tom, and——~”

“Thet were ter keep ther cold Gut; Don't fear me, as
yer know, I are a parfect satmon on temp’ rance whe a [
are on ther trail. Theo X, Guv ner, an’ one more trea

“Come on, then, and here is the money.”

Trailer Tom took the ten dollars, carefully examined
the bills to see there was no mistake, and, after another
glass of brandy, moutited his horse and rode away: The
moon. had risen above the distant mountains, and the val-
ley seemed burnished with silver, and the little river a
ribbon of gold beneath its rays.

Back to the ‘Palace’ then went Governor Dave, to
indulge in another game of cards.

He was winning heavily, when suddenly into the saloon
dashed Carrots, and, bending over, whispere# in his ear.

Dave’s face turned pale, a and, pocketing his winnings,
he hastily departed from the saloon

At the door of the hotel stood the raw-boned horse of

Trailer Tom, and in the bar, on the floor, his head sup-
ported by an upturned chair, lay the scout himself, hold-
ing his hand hard on his side, from which welled a stream

of blood.

“Well, Tom, what is it?” asked Dave, bending over
ti
gin. {

“Tt were did a while ago,” said a man, faintly.
“Did you shoot yourself by accid ent?

““Nary accident, ‘Guv’ner; an’ ther Doc heur says 1 hes
been on my last trail.”

“Yes, you will not live half an hour, Tom, for internal
hemorrhage is going on,’ said the physician, a retired
afmy surgeon, who ‘had settled in Poker City, and who
happened to pass the Hotel as Trailer Tom rode up and
fell from his horse.

“But who shot you, Tom?’

ere did.

pone lawhor

“Ther petticoat I were a-trailin’ fer yer.

‘What! Miss Insley?’

“YT euess so; it were ther gal with Old Buckskin.’

On

“Pard Dave, I hain’t goin’ ter lie ter yer, jist as I are
about ter go on ther long trail to ther spirit land.”

“Forgive me, Tom, for 1 meant not to doubt you; but

p??

how did it happen j

asked the Governor.

x9

   

 
  

Be “THE BUFFALO

He turned to speak, but had not the power of utter-

ance; and, after a few convulsive shudders, Trailer Tom
had started on the trail leading to the Great Beyond.

CHARIER V.
THE BATTLE WITH THE GIANTS.

Buffalo Bill was returning to Poker City!

The citizens of Poker City had begun to think the
threats of the giants had scared him away. Therefore,
when it was seen that he was again approaching the place,
a very fever of excitement reigned.

Only that very day the giants had been publicly con-
gratulating themselves. »

“We hey got this heur town by ther tail, Blondy, fer
ther’ hain’t a man, woman, or child dare open thar heads
ag’in’ us,” said Brunette Bill to Blond Bill, as the two sat
together upon the piazza that afternoon, and their
remarks were heard by scores of men, who were in reality
airaid of them.

“Thet are so, Brunette Billy boy; an’ we'll hev ter emi-
grate an’ look up another spot, whar ther fellers hes got
more sand.”

“I did hope ter be entertained heur in Poker City, an’
were sartin of it when Buffalo Bill sailed ter ther front ;
but he tuk cover durned quick, an’ a clipped ear are all
he has left ter remind us of him.”

At this juncture Governor Dave spoke up:

“Buffalo Bill is coming,” he said.

“1 said that Bill is coming back.”

TON QU

“There he comes.”

Buffalo Bill came on at a swinging pace toward the
hotel.

He raised his sombrero in answer to the words of wel-
come, as he rode along, and hardly glanced at the crowd
gathered at the hotel.

Many voices had called to him that the giants were still
in town; but it had no apparent effect upon him, and the
falling in, at a respectable distance behind him, out of pis-
tol range, was a’ sure evidence that a deadly fracas was
expected at the Rancheros’ Exchange immediately upon
his arrival.

“Soorts, yer may hev druv Buffalo Bill out o Poker
City some days ago, but he hev got over his skeer an’
are comin’ straight back ag’in, so look out thet he don't
trump ther keerds yer holds,” cried a miner from around
the corner of the hotel.

He dodged back just in time to escape a shot from the
sports, for both had drawn their revolvers.

Straight for the hotel Buffalo Bill certainly was com-
ing. His face was as serene as a May morn, and he sat
in his saddle with an air of utter indifference to the style
of welcome he should receive.

The shouts of those who had recognized him had
ceased, and only the low hum of voices broke the silence.

Those on the hotel piazza had scattered to either side,
leaving the two giants alone.

The people on either side of the street already began
to move out of direct range! so that it was evident a clear
field was to be left for the combatants.

‘There were men in the crowd who had avoided the

Bits STORIES.

giant sports, but now were determined, whatever might
be Buffalo Bill’s fate, if the trouble once began, the two
desperadoes should die then and there.

The huge pards had risen, and reached for their guns,
and each had taken the shelter of one of the piazza pillars.

Buffalo Bill saw their hands drop upon their hips. He
threw his revolver forward and fired twice.

Down in their tracks sunk the giant sports, one, Bru-

‘nette Bill, stone-dead. Blond Bill, with his weapons fall-

ing from his hands, swayed wildly, and sank to his knees.
Buffalo Bill advanced upon Blond Bill, as he crouched
against the side of the house, bleeding from a wound
along the side of his head, which seemed to have half-
stunned and wholly dazed him, and said in a kindly tone:
“Come, pard, the fight’s over, and your friend has
turned his toes up to the daisies; but you are hurt, and
T hold no ill will toward a man who can’t strike back.”
Blond Bill put his hands to his head, as though to recall
his scattered senses, and, with the aid of Buffalo Bill, stag-
gered to his feet, and then turned his eyes full upon the
man who had defeated him, and slain his comrade.
“Pard Bill, you won the game,” he said, in a hoarse,
scared voice, “and I didn’t think you could do it.”

CHAP TER GV
I OOM AUN @ (3.8 Ou

Let us now return to Old Buckskin and Edna Insley,
the night of their departure from Poker City.

She was thoroughly equipped for her journey, and set
forth that night with hope in her heart that all would be
well.

From her first meeting with Buffalo Bill she had been
drawn toward him with feelings of admiration and grati-
tude, and she did not doubt that with his aid she could
accomplish all that she came for.

‘What are you eying the back trail so anxiously for,
Mr. Buckskin?” she asked, as they crossed the river and
headed for the mountains.

“T are not sartin, but thet ther are a gerloot a-watchin’
us.”

“What can be his motive?’

“Waal, cur’osity are a bad disease, leddy; an’ tho’ folks
do say as how ther wimmins Hes got it all, I guesses
Adam dropped in afore it were all gin out ter Eve, fer
man critters do hev thar share, I'll sw’ar.”

Edna’s laugh echoed through the pass, and Old Buck-
skin said quickly:

“That thar are sweet music, but I'd hate ter hear thet
laff answer’d by a Injun war whoop.”

“Til not be rash again, Mr. Buckskin; but hark! I did
hear a hoot-fall behind us.”

“Ver hes good ears, leddy. ‘Thar are a horse a-follerin’
us, an he are rid by a man.”

After a ride of a mile further, the guide suddenly drew
rein, and said:

“Miss, does yer see thet rock?”

Vege!

“Waal, you ride ahind it an’ wait thar, an’ I'll ride on.
Let ther feller pass, an’ V’ll soon see what he are up ter,
fer I doesn’t like my steps dogged.”

Edna quietly turned her horse aside from the head trail,
and soon was hidden behind the huge rock.

 

 

 

 

 

   
   
    
   
   
   

     
 

\
\

ae BUFF ALO

  

eo

Presently ie horseman came in sight, riding slowly.
As the moonlight fell upon him, the girl recognized the
man as Trailer Tom, whom she had seen in the “neighbor-
hood of Poker: City.

“That landlord has sent him'on my trail,” she muttered.

Just then, as he was passing, he suddenly halted.

Then he rode on and disappeared in the distance up
the pass.

A moment after she heard a sudden plunge of a horse,
a frightened snort, and a shot, followed by a cry as
though a man had been hit hard.

The next instant there came the rapid clatter of hoofs
down the pass.

“He has killed my guide, and he shall not escape,” she
said determinedly, and, drawing a revolver from her belt,
she urged her horse out into the trail.

Then into full view came a horseman dashing down the
pass.

It was the same that had gone up three minutes before.

“Halt!” cried Edna, in ringing tones.

She saw the man start, drop his hand on his revolver,
and come on.

“Halt! or I fire!” she cried sternly, though she did not
intend then to fire upon him.

“Curse you! take that!” was the savage answer, and,
with the flash of his pistol, a bullet cut through the crown
of her ‘hat.

A second shot followed, and she felt a tingling sensa-
tion in her arm.

Then Edna Insley’s blood was up, and she, too, fired.

She was in the shadow of the overhanging rock, and
indistinctly seen; the man was in the bright moonlight,
anda fair target.

At her shot he reeled in his saddle, seemed about to
fall; but, recovering himself, dashed on by, though cling-
ing to his horse with both hands.

“Great God! it is ther gerl thet shot me.”’

Such were the words that escaped his lips as he dashed
on.

Like a statue, her smoking revolver in her hand, Edna
Insley sat in her saddle, gazing after him until he dis-
appeared in the gloom, and the clatter of his horse’s hoofs
died away, leaving the silence around her unbroken.

“Hallo, leddy, are thet your’ cried me Buckskin, com-
ing in sight.

TV es, and I am glad to see that you are not dead,”
said fervently.

“Oh, no; 1 are like a cat, hard ter kill.”

“But he fired on you?’

“THe did fer a fact, an’ I got it in ther arm, tho’ it are
no more’n a flea-bite.

“Ye see, I put my critter in ther pines ;
ther gerloot with my lariat.

ie throw’ d it prime, but it did not go over his head jist
tight, an’ he wheeled about, an’ let me ‘hev it.

“1 called ter my critter,’ an’ he thought I were callin’
other pards, an’ jist got down ther pass.

“But what in thunder, leddy, were all thet shootin’
down heur?”

“T believed he had killed you, and tr ied to stop him. He
did not halt, believed I was a man, and fired on me twice,
cutting through my hat with one bullet, and just clipping
my shoulder with another. I then fired in self-defense.”

she

laid ter catch

 

  

BILL STORIES, 7 9

“Bully fer you!”

“And tit: him.”

“Bullyer fer you, leetle gal. Did he drop?”

“No, he reeled in his saddle, as though hard hit,
dropped his revolver, and went out. of sight down the-
pass, holding on with both hands to the saddle.”

“TI hope he may tumble off an’ break his durned neck,
ef yer bullet didn’t do fer him.”

“T hope I have not hurt him seriously, for I would not
like his life on my hands,’ said Edna.

“It hain’t nothin’, when yer gits use ter it. At fust yer
does see oo at night, but arter awhile they lets yer
Frese.

“Yas, thar be his pistol.
‘Tom, fer heur are his name.

“Now, we'll ride on, leddy. I'll jist take a trail as is
not ‘gin’rally know’d ter Poker City gerloots, fer thet
Trailer Tom evident thought thar were more of us, an’
ef he hain’t much hurted he’ll be arter us. Ef he are got
it hard, then he hes pards as will strike our trail.”

“Then let us hasten on. Once we have found Mr. Cody,
I will have no fear,’ said Edna anxiously.

“Yas, Buffalo Bill are a horse ter let.

“Now, Pu jist mount my critter; an’ ef I hain’t a liar,
we is a-goin’ ter hey a leetle goose- pickin’ in ther air.’

“What is that?” asked Edna:

“‘Goose-pickin’ are ther English fer snow fallin’, leddy,
an’ we wants ter find shelter afore it begins.”

Old Buckskin went after his horse; and, mounting, the
two rode on, the guide turning out ‘of the regular trail
at a point where a rivulet crossed it, and, keeping in the
water bed for the distance of a mile, in spite of the rough
riding over the slippery stones.

He reached a plateau, emerging out of the forest upon
it, just as the snow began to descend in huge, feathery
flakes, that, in spite of their beauty, in that desolate spot,
and in the darkness of night, looked weird and forbid-
ding, and sent a chill to the heart of Edna.

As they progressed, the snow fell more heavily. When
at last the dawn broke the skies were seen to be overcast,
the ground was white, and there was every evidence that
the snow would continue.

ne ell have ter rest ther horses, leddy, in that canyon,.
an’ you can get a nice leetle nap. ‘Ten well press on
entil we reach ther camp, where T are ter take yer,” said
Old Buckskin.

“T leave all to you, sir,” answered the girl, with perfect
confidence in her guide.

In a secluded nook, where the snow ‘had not reached,
Old Buckskin erected a blanket shelter for Edna, and
spread her a soft couch. )

Then he built a fire, and soen had a delicious cup of
coffee, broiled venison and biscuit for their breakfast.

The horses were lariated out under the shelter of a
cliff, where the grass was not covered with snow; and,
throwing several logs on the fire, Old Buckskin also
sought rest. a .

It was late in the afternoon when he awoke. He was
evidently angry with himself for having overslept, for
he muttered something about tons of snow having fallen,
and darkness catching them before they reached the camp.

He hastily got dinnet, and then woke Edna, who was
wholly rested, and in a most cheerful humor.

It are, as I thought, Trailer

  
10 THE BUFFALO

Eating a hearty meal, the two mounted, both warmly
muffied up, and the horses were turned on the trail they
were to follow.

Out of the sheltered canyon, all was a sea of snow
before them, and only the instinct of the old hunter could
xuide them.

Edna realized this, and said nothing to distract his
attention.

His face was calm, and his eyes most watchful, as

‘though he fully appreciated the danger they were facing.

  

The storm was momentarily increasing in violence, and
the snow was deepening, and became heavy traveling for
the horses.

Yet on they struggled, the guide unswervingly holding
his way with a steadiness that gave Edna renewed con-
fidence in him.

At last darkness began to settle upon the earth, but

there was no thought of a halt for rest or food. |

They must press on to the camp, for a few more hours
would prevent travel altogether.

In advance went Old Buckskin, and close behind fol-
lowed Wonder, showing more nerve and endurance than
did the animal of the oitide, hardy as he was.

Soon the darkness grew intense, and the snow blinded
them, yet still on moved the guide.

“By Heaven! I’ve struck my own trail again.”

The words came from Old Buckskin. Edna heard
them. From the easy traveling of the Horses, it was
evident that they had circled around and gotten into the
track of the snow they had before broken.

A moment the guide halted, and then branched on in
the very teeth of the storm.

‘There was an ascent of a hill, and the fierce, cold wind
struck them hard. Presently Old Buckskin halted sud-
dently and cried:

“To the right, for we are on the edge of-a precipice.” |

The border dialect had been dropped in his sudden
alarm, and he glanced quickly backwar

No answer came.

Ord”

No response.

“Good God! she has gone over the cliff.”

So it seemed, for nowhere was the horse and his girl
rider visible. Dismounting, Old Buckskin found they
had been traveling on the very edge of a cliff for a hun-
dred yards.

Back on the same trail he went, and then halted sud-
denly.

“Yes, she has gone.”

“A. great bank of snow had broken from the’ path at
his feet, and with it had gone Wonder and his mistress.

But how far down?

Into what kind of an abyss?

These questions the old hunter could not answer, and
loudly he hailed:

“Ho! down below there!”

No answer came.

Ol io! Miss Insley!’

still no answer, and, shivering, wretched, with death

staring him in the face, Old Buckskin remounted his

horse, and rode slowly away from the fatal spot.

 

 

Bill STORIES,

CHAPTER. VII,
THE CABIN IN THE CANYON.

What had happened to Miss Insley?

In the thick snowstorm she soon lost sight of the guide.

This frightened her, and she began to “call to kim.

But only the echo of her own voice came back to her
upon the howling storm.

Suddenly she checked a cry upon her lips, and said:

“It may be he scents danger, so I did wrong to call
out. Go on, Wonder, if there is no danger.”

Again the horse moved forward, floundering through
the snow.

But anxiety made her draw rein.

The jerk on the bit caused the horse to swerve a little,
and instantly the bank of snow beneath his feet went
down.

He felt himself going, and tried to bound to a firm
foundation, but it was useless, and down he went with
the mass of snow.

Hardly able to realize that she was falling, Edna ut-
tered no cry. In fact, so rapid was the fall, she hardly
understood what had happened: until she found that her
downward flight was checked, and she was buried under
tons of soft, flaky snow.

Her horse seemed unhurt, though momentarily dazed
with surprise; and, having kept her saddle, she knew she
had sustained no injury.

How far she had fallen, she did not know, and, as all
was darkness, she had no means of ascertaining.

For an instant Wonder seemed to be endeavoring to
recover from his astonishment; then he made strenuous
efforts to cast off the weight of snow upon him.

He floundered violently for a while, then he stopped.
Once more making an effort, he succeeded in getting out
of the snow bank, and stood panting, with the snow a little
above his knees.

As her eyes became accustomed to her surroundings,
Edna saw rising above her a steep hill fully a hundred
feet in height, and she knew that down the sloping side
of this she had come on Wonder’s back.

Had there not been such a heavy fall of snow, the death
of herself and horse would have been instantaneous.

But, as it was, they had come down with a few tons;
and found a drift of as many more to fall upon, which
had saved her.

Raising her voice, she cried loudly for Old Buckskin.

But only the howling of the storm answered. her.

Then: she gave herself up as lost, and was almost in
utter despair.

She was shivering with cold, and her horse was trem-
bling, too, and which way to go she did not know.

Alone, in the heart of a ‘trackless mountain, with a

fierce storm raging around her, and knowing of no suc-.

cor, the wonder is that she did not go mad.

But hers was a brave heart, and she determined not to
give up, and to hope while life remained.

“Come, Wonder, we are in for it. I yield myself to
your instinct. Find us some sheltered nook from these
cold winds. I have matches, and we will have.a fire to
warm ourseives. Come, good horse, all depends upon
you.”
she dropped the reins on the neck of the horse as she

   

 

 

   

 

 
 

See eee

ee

SS

poe

a

F
,
RY

 

 

 

 

 
 

     
       
       
   
     
      

THE BUFFALO

spoke; and, as though understanding her words, he
moved forward at a brisk walk.

Eagerly she watched him, and was almost breathless
with hope as she saw him stop after a while and sniff the
air, as though something unusual had come to his keen
sense of smell.

“What is it, Wonder? Perhaps it is Old Buckskin.”

With that hope, she called loudly.

But only the echo of her voice came back to her upon
the howling storm.

Soon the horse gave a whinny.

Shading her eyes from the driving snow, Edna Insiey
beheld a glimmer ahead.

Was it a hallucination?

Was it really a light?

Eagerly she peered ahead. Then she knew that she
was not mistaken, for before her she distinctly saw a
light.

Quickly, she urged Wonder forward once more; but
the intelligent horse needed little urging, and struggled
on through the deep snow and dritts.

Was it Old Buckskin?

Was it an Indian camp?

Such were the thoughts flashing throtgh Edna’s mind.

Soon the question was answered, as she came upon a
hut right against an overhanging mountain.

The door of the hut was ajar, and through the opening
came the light she had seen, and which was from a fire
within.

It was a small hut, yet to her no palace could have been
more welcome.

She hailed, but no one answered.

She called again, and again. Still no voice replied.

In amazement, she glanced around her, and saw, not
far away, another cabin.

‘Toward this she rode, and soon discovered that the
door of this hut was open, too.

Here Wonder wished to enter, and this told her it was
a stable.

“You shall go in, good horse, and find a warm shelter,
and Ill look somebody up about this place, or Vll freeze,”
and she slipped to the ground, and turned Wonder loose.

Instantly he entered the cabin stable.

“Tl follow your example, and make myself at home.’

She walked to the other cabin, and glanced in through
the open door. :

A log fire blazed cheerily upon the large hearth, and
her eyes, at a glance, took in the contents of the little
cabin.

A rustic cot, upon which was spread bear and buffalo
skins, and a red blanket ; a saddle hanging upon the wall,
and a rifle and shotguns on brackets, with a belt of arms
suspended by a peg; a bearskin chair, a table, and rude
cupboard comprised the furniture.

But where was the occupant or occupants?

Nowhere visible; and in Edna walked, for she could
no longer resist the temptation of ee near the invit-
ing fire.

Down in the bearskin chair she sank, ‘The ruddy glow,

the cheerful heat, added to her fatigue, soon overcame

her, and she dropped to sleep, to awake with a start, to
find a mountain lion crouching near her,
Its tail was wagging to and fro, its eyes were glaring

LOE a a ee

 

BILL STORIES. = | Wee ee

upon her, and his attitude was crouching, as though ready
for the fatal spring.

She tried to believe she was asleep, and was visited by .

a hideous nightmare.

But no, the savage brute was uttering a low growl, the
white teeth were too real, and, unable to stand the fearful
strain upon her nerves, she fainted.

When Edna Insley returned to consciousness, she still.

sat in the bearskin chair before the fire.

She rubbed her eyes to see if she was awake, and then
looked around again at what she believed was an appa-
rition.

Upon a stool at one side of the hearth sat a Gone
being, calmly making a fire.

Upon the other side of the hearth was the mountain
lion that had so frightened her, and he still had his glaring
eyes fixed upon her.

Figuratively speaking, she was between two fires, the
lion and an Indian, and she would have almost preferred
death by the real fire in front of her, than at the hands
of the one, or the teeth of the other.

She shook herself and sat up, and the lion growled.

At this the Indian spoke sharply, and the animal lay
down, content to let him manage matters.

The savage then attracted the attention of Edna more
particularly.

He was a man of large size, well along in years, and
had about as much mercy in his face as the brute opposite
to him possessed.

He was decked out most gayly in feathers, beads,

fringed buckskin leggins and hunting shirt, and in-.

numerable brass rings, and a necklace of beads of all
colors.

This fact Edna particularly noticed. Being a good |

reader of human nature, even under a red complexion, she
at once decided that, Indian, old and ugly though he
was, he was a dandy, egotistical, arrogant, vain and selfish.

His other faults she feared she ‘would too soon dis-
cover.

He glanced at her as she revived, scolded the lion,
and relapsed into the enjoyment of his pipe.

No surprise was manifested at her presence there, no
questions as to when she came, where from, how long she

expected to stay, or if she liked the country.

With a steady look at his face, which amounted to a
stare, Edna Insley read that red man of the mountain.
Without a word she calmly took off her watch and chain
and handed it to him. -

He took it much as:a cat might pounce upon a mouse,
and gave a gratified:

wg oh! {22

What U-g-h meant Edna had no means of knowing,
so. she watched the untutored savage take her chain, tie
one end of it in the ring of the watch, and hang it around
his neck like a locket.

That he was a shade happier than he was before fs

received the costly gift was evident, and Edna began te
calculate just how happy it was in her power to make
him,

She had a belt of gold with her, but wished to hold
that in reserve, so she took off a ruby ring and handed
it to him.

It would. not go on the tip of his little finger, called

    
 

  

i2 THE BUFFALO

little by courtesy only—and he hung it on the chain, and
fastened his eye on a diamond she wore.

Of course it was handed to him and brought forth
another.

“Ugh!”

“T’ve risked three hundred dollars on the old savage
now, and I’ll see if he can talk,” muttered Edna, and she
opened with ;

“You great chief, aren't your”

“Yes, Snake-with-wings great chief,’ was the guttural
response,

“Snake-with-wings fine name.”

SVes 4

“Been here long?”

‘Long time.”

“Live here, don’t you?”

~ yes: 39

“T thought so. Any family to speak of excepting that
savage brute?” and she glanced at the lion,

‘Ush {?

Here Edna was at sea again,

“Ts that beast tame?”

“Good.”

“Te don’t look it.”

UNeS

“Then he does, for I agree with Snake- with- -wings in

everything,’

Puen!

“That's what I thought. Are you a Sioux?’

“Cheyenne! Sioux heap bad Injuns.”

“So I think. I like Cheyennes.”

Snake-with-wings seemed’ pleased at this, for he grin-
ned; but as the relaxation of the muscles of his face
seemed to give him pain, Edna was determined not to
say anything to provoke another smile.

“All alone?” she asked.

“Have lion.”

“Vd rather be alone,” said Edna, with a shudder.

“Bad storms,’’ and she pointed out of the door, which
was now closed, a

Ue! a

“I am cold and hungry, Will Snake-with-wings give
me something to eat and let me stay here?’ she asked, de-
termined by a desperate effort to make herself at home.

"Veo?

“My horse is in the other cabin.”

Yes.”

“Tl cook my supper, if you’ll only tell me where to
find it?”

, The Indian arose and walked to the cupboard; but, as
he put his hand on it, there came a loud hail without.

The lion sprang to his feet with a savage growl, and
_ the Indian cried:

“It is paleface chief. Him talk to white squaw.”

With this he left the cabin, followed by the mountain
lion. Poor Edna sat wondering if the newcomer was
on a par with the two occupants ‘of the cabin she had be-
come acquainted with.

WAG may be worse, and, if so, may Heaven have mercy
upon me,’ she murmured.

The next instant the door was flung open and the one
whom Snake-with-wings had called “the paleface chief

29

 

BILL SIPORIES:

stepped across the threshold of the cabin. At sight of
him Edna Insley sprang to her feet with a surprised cry
upon her lips.

PCH APT ER VIEL
TRACKED TO DOOM.

The chief, whose sudden arrival in the midst of the
storm had been announced to Edna Insley by the Indian
Snake-with-wings, and whose coming had brought from
her lips a cry of surprise, was none other than Old Buck-
skin himself.

That lone hut in the canyon was his principal retreat
in those wild mountains, and his housekeepers were the
Indian and the lion.

He had other cabins scattered here and there, in the
most inaccessible places.

The other cabins of Old Buckskin were merely tem-
porary abiding-places, but the one in which Edna found
herself was his home,

True to his instincts in piaiie and mountain craft, he
had been heading for the cabin, in spite of his occasional
getting off the fod in the storm, and, unable to find
Edna, and feeling that she had been dashed down the
cliff to her death, he had continued on his way, reached
the pass at the head of the deep canyon and arrived an
hour after she did.

“Well! this is a:glad. surprise,”
tered,

she said, as he en-

“Yas, it are a gladder one ter me, fer | thought sar-

tin yer were dead, when yer went over thet cliff.

i comed on ter my leetle ranch, ore ter dig yer
out o’ ther snow ter-morrer an’ give yer decint burryin’.

“But you tuk ther short cut an’ beat me heur; durned
er yer didn't.’

"SO. it seems, and I found this warm fire most wel-
come.’

“Yas, I guess yer found ther fire more warmer in wel-
comin’ yer then thet Injun an’ pant’er, They is surly
brutes both of ’em, but they suits me.

“IT saved thet Injun from gittin’ burnt up at ther stake
some years ago, an’ he hev freezed ter me ever since.
Ther lion I rized from a purp. I guesses, ’ceptin’ my
horse, them is all thet loves Old Buckskin.”

“You must cer tainly count me as one of your friends.”

“Waal, we'll see.

-“Now Vil jist rummage round an’ make this shanty
comfortable fer yer ter- night, an’ ther Injun, ther pant’er
an’ meé will go ter other lodgins: but Pil be on han’ for
breakfast with yer.”

Edna was completely worn out. Hence, as soon as
she was left alone, she sank into a deep sleep, from which
she was only awakened by Old Buckskin calling to her
that it was time for breakfast.

she dressed herself hurriedly, glanced out, and saw
that the storm had cleared away, and the sun was ees

A good breakfast awaited her. She had no “alse
to complain of Snake-with-wings as a cook, whatever
his other faults might be, and she ate hear tily.

“Now jist come with me, leddy, an’ I'll give yer a stir-
prise party,” said the old hunter,

To her surprise, he caught hold of the cupboard against

 

 

 

 

   
 

    
 

 

 

 

 

 

THE BUFFALO

the back of the cabin, and it swung out like a door, re-
vealing a cavern behind it.

Taking a pine knot and lighting it, he led her through
this cave, which grew larger as they went along.

Then she started with horror when she came suddenly
upon an arched chamber of rock, and beheld before her,
lying upon a cot, and chained to the wall, a man with
haggard face, emaciated form and gray hair and beard.

In spite of the surroundings, the appearance of the
poor wretch, and the story told her that he was dead,
Edna Insley recognized the father she had not seen for
years.

“Great God! you here, my poor, dear father,
sprang to his side.

‘My child! my child! you have come to save me,” was
all the poor man could utter, and the two were clasped
in each other’s arms. |

Suddenly they were recalled to themselves by a stern
voice saying:

“Well, now that I have you both in my power, I guess
I can bring you to terms, Anson Insley.”

They turned toward the speaker. It was Old Buck-
skin.

He stood a few paces apart gazing upon them, with
a strange expression upon his face. :

The captive was crouching down against the wall of
the cave, to which his irons were attached, and seemed
but a wreck of manhood.

He gazed upon his beautiful daughter, and clung to
her hand tremblingly, as though he feared to lose her.

‘She looked upon Old. Buckskin. with an expression
of intense surprise.

Not for a moment before had a shadow of doubt of the
guide found a place in her heart.

Now, when she saw her father in irons, and heard
the remark of the man, whose retreat she knew it was,
she gasped:

“What do you mean?”

“T will tell you what I mean, Miss Edna Insley, and
the story is soon told.” :

Old Buckskin had suddenly dropped his dialect, and,
drawing himself up to his full height, contronted the
father and daughter.

“An explanation of your words and conduct are cer-
tainly necessary, and both my poor father and myself
will listen to what you have to say,” said Edna, haughtily.

“Vou assume a tone, my lady, by no means in keeping
with your position at present,” replied Old Buckskin.

“Ah! I see, you are as treacherous as a snake, and
have gotten me into your power, you think.”

“T know it.”

“We shall see, sir,’ replied the brave girl; “but who
are your.

“Old Buckskin, the guide.”

“No, that is evidently a name you are dodging justice
under. I ask who you are, and why you have suddenly
turned against me, as your words and manner indicate?”

“Let ine, explain, >

“That man, yout father, is my lifelong enemy.”

“How has he wronged you?”

“Basely.”

“Vou know you speak falsely, for 1 have done you no

>

wrong,” said the chained man.

99

and she

   

BILL STORIES. : 33

“It was no wrong to defraud me of my fortune, Anson
Insley ?”

“T'did not defraud you of it, for your conduct turned
your father’s heart against you, and he willed it to me.”

“T was wild, I admit, and extravagant, while you were
slow-going, and your quiet ways made you a favorite
with my father. I needed money, Anson Insley, and
though you were the cashier, and could have let me have
it, you refused.”

“IT had loaned you all I could spare you from my
own savings,” said the captive.

“Curse your savings; | wanted more than you could
save in years, and you refused me.’

“T did my duty to my uncle, whose cashier I was.”

“And I, his.son, you would not help out of a scrape.”

“T could not.”

“So you said; well, Miss Edna Insley, let me tell you
that I had a debt to pay, and if it was not promptly paid,
it would have been discovered that I had committed
forgery. As your father refused me the money | needed,
I determined to take it from the safe.

“T watched him open it several times, and discovered
the combination lock. That night I went into the office
with a false key, opened the safe, and got out a roll of
bilis. Your father and my father were returning home
together from a lecture, and saw me go up the alley to
the back door.

“My father went after an officer, while that man, An-
son Insley, followed me.

“Te found the door unlocked and came in, and met me
coming out of the office. .

“He sprang upon me, not knowing me, for I was dis-
guised, and, when I saw he was going to get the best of
me, as an act of self-preservation, I drove a knife into
his side.

“At the door I was caught by the officer and my father,
who recognized me.

“““Go! go with what you have stolen, and never darken
my door again or call yourself my son.” :

“Such were the words of my father to me, and, taking
him at his word, I departed, for he bribed that officer to
let me go. ev

“Since that day I never saw my father, for he died
some years after, but your father, as you see, T have met
since,” and the man smiled in a sinister, sneering way
that caused Edna to shudder. :

But her father, with bowed head, neither moved or
showed signs of having heard the man’s recital of his
acts of guilt.

 

CHAPTER IX.
UNDER FALSE COLORS.

“Are you interested sufficiently in my confession and
explanation of why you find your father here in chaina
to wish to hear more?” asked Old. Buckskin, aiter.a
pause.

“Continue,” replied Edna, coldly.

“Well, the wound I gave your father that night well-
igh proved fatal; but he had a hardy constitution an
survived it.

“T came West and went into the cattle business in a
pleasant valley a nundred miles or so from here, and I

—

   
 
 
 

i
4
|
1
 

 

 

14 THE BUFFALO

would have succeeded well but for some little acts I com-
mitted that rendered me an object of attention from the
Vigilantes.

“Of those irregularities, according to law, I need not
speak, as they do not concern you.

“But while I was drifting about the border, an ad-
venturer, guide, scout, and lastly as renegade, your father
was playing his cards so well that my father left him his
fortune.

“T was cut off with just enough to bury me, and my
cousin got the riches that should have been mine.

“Vou are aware that in some way he swamped himself
and, rather than see his wife and child live in poverty, he
came West to dig gold out of the mines.

“By a strange accident I managed to save his life, and
he was drawn toward me by the warmest gratitude,
though under my border name he did not know me, and,
in fact, the many years that had passed since we met
had changed me from the ruddy-faced youth of eighteen,
which I was then, to the mani of forty, with long hair and
beard.

“But I knew him at a glance, even though he was
going under his Christian name of Anson Boyd, instead
of Anson B. Insley, for he did not seem to wish people to
know that the one-time man of wealth had turned miner.

“Well, we stuck together, and went as pards out here.

“He already had dug out considerable’ gold, but my
luck was not equal.

‘Perhaps I was too lazy.

“Business called me away for a few weeks and in my
absence your father had made a big find, and with all his
diggings intended to go soon to the nearest station and
return for his gold with wagons and a guard.

“In my absence he had hidden it somewhere, and
where he would not tell me, as some miners had given
him cause to doubt me.

“T told him I would help him, and he said no, and
offered me a thousand or so, as my luck had been bad.

“His thousand I did not want, but his thousands I
dia, and I determined to possess all.

“He started for the nearest station alone; but I had
already laid my plans, and with an Indian comrade I
waylaid him on the road, and threatened him with death
if he would not tell the secret of where he had buried
his gold.

“This he refused to do, and I brought him here, and
here he has been ever since, and will remain until he tells
the secret to me, for that gold I am determined to have.”

“T do not doubt it.

“Vou are, then, his comrade, of whom he wrote such
kind letters?” said Edna, with surprise.

VINES?

“You are, then

“Prince Harry, I called myself then.”

“And Henry Hammond, who came to my mother and
myself with the story of my father’s death?’

mY es,”

“What motive had you for coming to see us?’

“T knew he had sent considerable money to you, and
I wished to see just how much.”

“And yet you brought us gold?”

“A little, which 1 said had been left by your father.

39

 

 

BILL STORIES.

That was a blind, simply to make myself solid, you
know.”

“Well, sir, you found out. we were not riche:

“T found out that I loved my sweet cousin, in my way,
and I wanted to marry you.

“Had I succeeded, | would have returned here, told
your father you were my wife, and given him his lib-
erty, in case he should swear by the most sacred oaths
that he would not betray me.

“Then I would see that he made his will in your fa-
vor, and his death would have been a matter of very
short time after that.”

“Oh! you villain!” cried Edna, with intense indigna-
tion. ‘,

“T know it, sweet cousin; but my cloven foot was re-
vealed to you, and I spoiled my prospects, so returned
West, to try and force from your father where his gold
was hidden.

“This he refused to do, saying he would rather die, and
you see he is dying on account of his stubbornness.”

“If he dies he shall be fearfuly avenged,” said Edna,
with savage earnestness.

“You are in no position to threaten.”

“We shall see.”

“Yes, we shall see, sweet cousin.

“Tt was a lucky day when I found you had arrived in |

Poker City, and I at once determined to get possession of
you. I secreted myself in the room next to yours at the
hotel, and overheard your plans made with Buffalo Bill
that night. As soon as possible after Cody’s departure
from Poker City I called for you.
I play to win, and hold as many trump cards as that ter-
rible fellow, Buffalo Bill.”

“You'll find that he'll win the game when it comes to.

a play of life and death between you.” »

“T’ll risk it, for Satan takes care of his own, and I can
find no fault with him for not caring for me.”

“Well, sir, what is your intention now with regard to
my poor father and myself?” and Edna glanced straight
into the face of the man before her.

“To get your father’s gold and make you Mrs. Henry
Hammond,” was the unblushing remark of the man, as
he drew from his head a most cleverly made wig’ and
beard, revealing the countenance of the man whom poor
Mrs. Insley had dreamed that she saw killing her hus-
band.

In point of fact that dream was true, for the man was
indeed ending the life of Anson Insley inch by inch,
keeping him chained like a dog in that loathsome cavern.

For a moment after his terrible threat of what was his
diabolical intention, Edna Insley stood like a statue gaz-
ing upon the dark, handsome, but sinister and cruel face
of the man before her.

Her father had seemed to awaken from his lethargy,
and half arose to his feet, to sink again upon his hear-
skin, with a groan that seemed to come from his inmost
being. m

“You dare make such an assertion to me, sir?” at last
said Edna, with trembling voice and flashing eyes.

Why note”

“You ask why not?’

Nes
“T marry such as you are?” and her scorn was fearful,

  

ES

 

You know the rest. °

‘
J
Ne
\"
fl

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

  
 

THE,.BUFFALO

“Vou forget you are in my power.”

“Oh, no! I could not forget that with your devilish
face confronting me.”

“Tere! be warned not to insult, or you may rue your

. words.”

“Why, you said you loved me.”

at do’ ‘

“God help. such love.”

“Tt is true love, and I would make you my wife, and
become a changed man, led by your influence, for I would

-have gold, and it is the desire to get riches that makes

me the wicked man I am.”

“You know. your wickedness, then?”

“Of course, and do not deny it, so 1 woo you under
no false pretenses.”

“You have kept my poor father here a chained pris-
oner, trying to wring the secret of where he had hidden
his gold from him, and yet he has had the nerve to remain
firm to thwart. you, and I am his child, so you need not
think I will yield.”

“T will kill him if he does not tell.”

“Vou are cowardly enough, I admit, to do so, but then
you bury the secret with him, and thus thwart yourself.”

“T mean I shall yet have his gold, and make you my
wife.”

“And I mean that you shall neither get the gold or
miatry ine.”

Pater!

The word was spoken in a déep voice, and it was the
chained prisoner who uttered it.

“Well. Dll tell you my terms.”

“The terms of an arratit villain, a murderer and all
that is despicable. Your ‘terms, please, Sir Villain, and
then leave us.”

“Well, the fortune and your hand in marriage.”

“Never |

“I say yes, for then I will set your father at liberty,
and we will seek other lands and live in happiness.”

CINEVeLL.

“Then here you both remain and die,’ he said, sav-
agely.

“So be it, we will die.”

‘Well, you know my terms, and if-you agree to them,
just come to the cabin and‘rap, and I wiil hear you.

“T will bring you a cot and make you as comfortable
as I can; but through the ¢abin is the only means of
egress from this cavern, and you see escape is impos-
sible.

“Vonder light streams through crevices, so you will
have air, and not be in the dark, and the Indian wiil give
you your food regularly.

“Now I leave you to think over my terms.”

The next moment he was gone, and Edna Insley was
alone with her father, whom she had so strangely found,
and found a mere wretk of his-former self.

CHARERR X:
FIGHTING FATE.

“Oh, father! what have we done that all this sorrow
should come upon us?”
The cry came from poor Edna when the presence ol

omy

    

BILL. STORIES: 15

the man known as Old Buckskin no longer prevented her
from an exhibition of her feelings.

For an instant she seemed utterly crushed under the
blow, and her brave nature yielded to weakness.

3ut when she gazed upon the tortured face of her
father and saw that in his weak state he, too, was about
to yield, after the long time of resolute defiance he had
maintained, she at once controlled her emotion.

She saw that the strong man would break down now,
at a time when both needed all their strength. Not for a
moment did the maiden think of yielding to the demand
of the villain who had brought so much sorrow upon
them.

“Edna, my child, we are but as reeds in his hands.

“T will confess the secret of where my treasure is
buried, and let hirh have all, if only he will allow you and
me to go in peace.

“We will be poor, but I will work again for your sup-
port, my noble child.

“Call him, Edna, and tell him I will confess and that he
shall have the gold.”

The appearance of the man was pitiable as he spoke,
but the same resolute will that had upheld him through
starvation, imprisonment, and the iron chains eating into
his flesh, now shone forth in the face of his daughter.

“No, father, not one dollar shall he have, and he shall
never make me his wife.”

“But, my child o

“Father, for two years you have held out against that
devit in human shape, and now that I am with you you
can tecuperate’ I will not mind the imprisonment. 1
am young and strong, and have a spirit not readily
broken, He will not iron me, for he thinks a woman
can do nothing to escape from his power.

“But he shall see, so cheer up, my dear father, and we
will see what can be done.”

Her firm resolve gave renewed life to him, and the
two sat down for an earnest talk together.

She made inquiries of all he knew about the cavern, and
asked regarding there being no other outlet, except
through the cabin.

“Edna,” suddenly cried the imprisoned man, cagerly.
“There must be, there is, another outlet, and I will teil
you why I think, or rather know so.

“One day that villainous panther was left to watch
me, when the Indian left the cabin, He grew tired of
his work and I saw him go off to the left of yonder bend.
In an hour’s time he returned with a large mountain
rabbit in his mouth, which he laid down there and ate.”

“Then there is an opening?’ eagerly said Edna.

“Yes for that rabbit either came in, or the panther
went out and caught it.”

“Oh! if I could but find it; but then it might be too
small for us to get out.”

“No, for one night 1 was awakened by a growl, and
st the wall, look-

 

ce
saw two bright objects over there again
ing at me.

“The fre had burned low, and at first I thought if was
the lion, but then another growl came, and I felt sure it
was a wild animal.

“T reached over and stirred up the embers, and dis-
tinctly saw the savage beast run away, and it was. I think,

 
 

SATE TE ROTI NTA ALL A TAME

16 THE BUPPALO

“That settles the question of an outlet, father.

“But did you tell that man or the Indian about see-
ing the animal?”

“No, though I felt it would be te to do so; as some
night the creature might return and spring upon me in
my sleep.

“T asked for somé wood at night, to keep the fire burn-
ing, but they immediately deprived me of all they had
before allowed me, and nightly I have been in fear of
being torn in pieces by wild beasts.”

“Oh! what have you not suffered, my poor. father.”

“Untold agonies, my child, and I believe I should have
eone mad, but for your timely coming.

“But see, 1 tried to file my chain in two, by rubbing
those links against the rocks.”

He held forth the chains, near where they were driver:
into the rocks, and showed that two links had been worn
very thin.

“This would necessitate your carrying the weight of
three feet on either wrist, father. I should have thought
you would have tried to free the manacles upon your
wrists.”

“Oh, no! they are daily inspected by the Indian, and
it would have been seen that I was tampering with them.

“Vhat is the right place, and they would act as dan-
gerous weapons, in case I had been attacked.

“But my strength gave out, and I could do no aes
and had almost given myself up to die.

“Yet T should have died with the secret burial place of
my treasure untold, for that man shall never have it.”

“Well, father, cheer up now, and I feel that all will be
well. We will fight fate to the bitter end, and triumph
at last.

“As soon as night comes on, and we are left alone, I
shall inspect this cavern thoroughly. I have a couple of
boxes of matches in my pocket, which [ fortunately for-
got to put in my satchel at our last halting place, and
merely discovered as I was about to mount.

“Cheer up, father, for I see light ahead, and we will
yet outwit that man, and thei——”

She paused, and her father asked:

“What were you about to say, my child?”

“Then we will find out just how sweet revenge is,’
and her voice was cold and bitter as she spoke, for the
plight of her father made her indeed most revengeful.

 

CHAPTER XT.
IN DESPERATE STRAITS.

Though Henry Hammond, as he was known to Edna,
had certainly had experience sufficient with the maiden to
know that she possessed pluck and endurance far above
the average, he yet felt so secure in the strength of his
stronghold prison as not to take any measures, other
than having himself, Snake-with-wings, or Ugly, the
lion, constantly in the cavern, to bar against escape.

A few bearskins and buffalo robes were brought and
spread on the cavern floor, A cot was put in a ‘niche
for her, and both her father and herself were made more
comfortable, yet were given to understand that they never
would leave the loathsome retreat alive, unless they
yielded to the terms of their keeper,

Die STORIES.

Fortunately Edna was not ironed, and as soon as she
felt that all was quiet in the cabin, she started eee her
voyage of discovery.

A pine torch lighted at the fire, which was another
comfort their foe allowed them, served to give her light
upon her explorations.

She found that the cavern branched off from the ro-
tunda, where her father was confined, into seven dif, °
ferent tunnels, and these she determined to take in regu-
lar order.

She began with the one on the left and followed it un-
til she had to stoop.

Then she crawled upon her hands and knees until it
ended.

Retracing her way she entered the second tunnel and
traced this to its termination, and with like result, for it
had no egress that even a rat could escape through.

Utterly tired out with her work, which had consumed
several hours, she returned and reported her want of
success thus far to her father, and added, cheerily:

“Never mind, 1 will yet find the outlet.”

Going to her skin-covered cot, she sank to sleep, and
was only awakened by her father calling her when the
sunlight was streaming through the crevices | in the
vaulted roof.

The day passed, with the three visits of the Indian,
bringing their meals, and one visit from Ugly, the pan-
ther, who, after a calm survey of the two prisoners turned
and walked away with an angry growl, as though he
feared their presence was curtailing his daily allowance
of rations.

With night Edna bravely started again upon her ex-.
plorations, while her father, with renewed strength, for
the coming of his daughter had brought his appetite
back to him, devoted his time in again rubbing his chain
links against the rocks to wear them through.

The third cavern was then explored to the end, and
once more Edna returned to the large rock chamber dis-
appointed.

The fourth she followed until she saw that she could
go no farther.

The end she had not reached, and the opening that ex-
tended on was barely large enough to admit a cat.

“The rabbit might have come in there, but not the
bear,” she muttered, as she retraced her way to make her
report to the father, for she dared not lose rest in prose-
cuting her search further that night.

Another day passed away, with the customary visits of
the Indian with food, but none from Ugly, or his equally
brutish master, whom the redskin said, in answer to Ed-
na’s question, had not gone away from the cabin.

The third night the hopeful girl started on her work
once more. As the fifth cave extended so much farther
into the mountain, and was so winding, she had not time
to explore any other that night.

Two more caverns yet remained to be explored, and
after the same routine of visits from the Indian and un-
broken rest at night, she began upon the sixth.

As in the latter it was large, and at the end, where she
was able to stand upright, she beheld a crevice in the
rocks, through which the cold air came in a draught that
blew out her torch.

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

=

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

For a moment, in the darkness, she was almost un-
nerved.

But, controlling her emotions, she felt her way back,
and though it seemed an age to her, at last came in view
of the glimmering firelight near her father’s cot.

“Oh, father !” she cried, and sunk down upon her bed.

But when she saw how he was moved by her emo-
tion she rallied and told him of the blowing out of her
torch, and her long hunt in the darkness to find her way
back to him.

“One more tunnel remains, father, and Heaven grant
that be the one,” she said.

“Tt must be, for it is the last, and it ever seems when
we search for anything it is the last thing we find.

“Have hope, my child, for that one must be the one
through which the bear came.”

And she did have hope, and with a buoyant heart
started on the exploration of the seventh and last tunnel.

She discovered the end, as she at first thought, but, on
closer examination, found there an opening about the
size of a barrel.

Through this she crawled, and again stood upright.

The new cavern which she had invaded was quite
Jarge at the place she had entered, but ran off in horn
shape before her.

Forward she went, after lighting another pine torch she
had brought with her to guard against accidents, and
soon reached the end of the cavern.

There was a small opening there, like a narrow door,
and through this she went, and then there seemed no fur-
ther progress to be made.

She held her torch above her head, when there came
a savage growl, the piece of blazing pine was knocked
from her hand and fell upon the rocky floor and was
extinguished by the shock.

Then there was a scratching sound heard, as of claws
upon rock, and silence followed.

In terror and despair she sunk in her tracks with a
low moan, and became unconscious.

How long Edna Insley lay in that dark cavern uncon-
scious she never knew. When at last she revived she
was chilled through, and it took her some moments to col-
lect her scattered thoughts and remember what had hap-
pened and where she was.

At last the terrible growl, the spring of the wild
beast over her head, knocking the upraised torch from
her hand, came back to her in all its vividness and horror.

With the terror she felt came also the joy of knowing
that the cavern must have an outlet, yet how did the sav-
age beast enter?

As she glanced around her, yet hardly with the hope
of seeing antything in haat impenetrable gloom, she sud-
denly observed a glimmer like a mere spark,

Peering forward, she soon saw that it was a star, vis-
ible through a crevice in the rocks.

She moved her position, and a cty of joy escaped her as
she caught sight of many stars, and, feeling in front of
Hen she found a kind of rocky shelf, rising to the height
of her face.

Before her was an
through with ease.

She cared to see no more, for the last of the seven
tunnels had been the one she was in search of.

opening large enough to pass

17

Fortunately she had matches with her, and lighting
several, she found her pine torch and soon had it relit.

Then she discovered why the tunnel exit had not been
discovered by the renegade and the Indian. For, stand-
ing a few feet away, the fissure in the. rock leading to
the second cavern was not visible, and they had evidently,
in their search, not been as thorough as she was.

Back through the rocky hallway she went, and soon
stood in the presence of her father, who was becoming
alarmed’ by her long absence.

“Father, I have ee it!” she cried.

“The outlet, child?”

iV eg?

“Thank God! Then we are saved!” he said, fervently.

“Yes, father, we will soon leave this spot, as soon as

. your irons are freed from the rock.”

“See; Edna!’

He held up the iron chains as he spoke.

“Free, thank Heaven!”

“Yes, and see, | can unite them again by bending the
worn links ever so little.”

He suited the action to the word, and seemed again
securely bound.

“Leave them so, father, and let us seek rest, for I am
very fired,””

“Yes, and to-morrow

“To-morrow night, father,
place.”

“But we will need food, my child.”

“T have saved something from each meal, and have
quite a supply hidden away.

“Twill ask to-morrow for.my wraps and satchel, and if
they are given me, I have hopes of finding something we
will greatly need.

“Tt depends upon how far the curiosity of that man has
caused him to look through my traps.

(ithe made a thorough search, it will not be there.”

“What is it, child?’

“A revolver !”’
~ “You with a pistol, child?”

“Yes, and a good shot, too, as Henry Hammond shall
find. out if he pursues us.”

“You call him Harry Hammond, Edna?
right name.”

“To you, as your mining comrade, he was known
Prince Harry.”

“Ves, but he has a number of aliases, it seems.’

“One of which is Old Buckskin, and I must oe his
disguise of an old hunter is something wonderful, father.”

“Ah, yes, he is a clever dog, my child.

“But the name he claims of Henry Hammond was his
father’s, it being Henry Hammond Harcourt, while his
is Hugh Harcourt.”

39

 

we will leave this hateful

It is not his

as

CHAPTER XIL
HOPE AND DESPAIR,

The following morning when Snake-with-wings put in
an appearance with the breakfast of the captive father and
daughter, Edna said to him:

“Does your renegade master refuse me my satchel and
wraps ?”

it ececentas Sorbets aa cats

 
ag core ee

 

ieee

    

18

“Snake-with-wings ask chief,” was the uncompromis-
ing response of the Indian.

He now returned from the cabin, bringing with him
the wraps and satchel, with the remark:

“White chief good man, treat paleface squaw much
good.”

“He is worse than that savage brute at your heels,”
said Edna, indignantly, pointing to Ugly, who had fol-
lowed at the Indian’s heels.

The Indian made no reply and departed, Ugly follow-
ing him, and Edna proceeded to examine her satchel.

At a glance she saw that it had been tampered with.

But for this she did not care, seeming only to feel anx-
ious about one thing it contained.

» “Thank God I”

The cry broke fervently from her fips.

“Well, my child?” eagerly asked her father.

“See, sir, I had this satchel made:to carry my little
traps, trinkets and combs and brushes.

“Under this pouch for the brushes is a secret recep-
tacle for my money, and even the lynx eyes of that man
Hammond. 5

“Hugh Harcourt, my child.”

“Yes; even that man, Hugh Harcourt, has not found
out the secret, for here, dear father, see, I have my money
safe. Better than all this, here is a revolver, which is
small, but serviceable, and very valuable, as it is gold-
mounted and my name in diamonds is set in the stock.”

she raised, with a touch on the spring, the steel rim of
the satchel, displaying another opening, which formed a
false bottom to the bag, and in this was her money and
the prized revolver.

She handed the weapon to her father, who examined
it critically, and said:

“Thirty-two caliber, and all six barrels loaded.”

“Yes, and but three enemies to subdue, father,” said
Edna, ina low tone.

“Sh, child! We will leave by the secret entrance in
this cavern.”

That day seemed to them a month in passing away.

But after long waiting the daylight faded away from
through the crevices in the vaulted roof, and Snake-with-
wings came with their supper.

They ate but little, for both were too anxious to enjoy
the meal.

But what they left Edna hid away, and the Indian gave
~ grant, when he came after the dishes, to see that noth-
ing was left for him or the panther.

As soon as he was gone Edna began preparations for
their departure.

First, she packed all of their food in a bag she had

“made of a blanket.

Then she got her father to draw on the bearskin shoes
she had made for him, and the wraps were divided be-
tween them.

“Now come, father,” she said, in a whisper.

He drew the worn links apart and arose, a man free
from his chains.

Then he took up the little bundle of pine torches the
maiden had tied together, and with one lighted, to show
them the way, they departed.

Into the cavern way, in the end of which Edna had

 

 

 

THE BUFFALO

Bild, STORIES.

found the outlet, they went, and ere long came to the ter-
mination of the rockbound passageway.

Into the outer opening they went, and again was heard
that savage growl, and instantly before them appeared a
panther, his eyes gleaming upon them, as he crouched for
the spring upon the maiden, who was in advance, her
father being behind with the torch.

Even at that fateful moment Edna Insley did not lose
her presence of mind, and a flash and report followed
the growl in a second.

There was a howl of rage, and the panther fell at her
very feet, the bullet having pierced his eye.

“Come, father, for that will be heard, and we will be
pursued,” she cried, eagerly.

He sprung to her side, and they beheld, by the torch-

‘light, that above their heads was a shelf of rock, which

was the flooring of a small cave, wherce had bounded

. the frightened animal, which had knocked Edna’s light

from her hand the night before.

On a level, nearly, with that, and some five feet away,
was the outlet of the cavern.

With the aid of her father Edna clambered upon the
rock, and she helped to draw him up after her.

Then the two stepped out of the cavern into the open
air,

But from the lips of both broke a cry of deep despair.

And no wonder!

It was late, and the moon was just rising, and its sil-
very light fell upon a field of mossy white before them,
covering valley and mountain.

“Oh, father! I forgot about the snowstorm,” cried
Edna, feeling faint with the discovery.

“Alas! yes, my child, neither of us thought of that in
our eagerness to escape.”

“But can we not push ahead, father, be it ever so lit-
tle each day?” urged Edna.

“My child, that snow lies two feet deep, and with no
guide through its white wastes, we would be daring
death. We could not travel a mile through it.”

“But what can we do?”

“Return.”

“To that prison, father?”

“Yes, cHid.

Le ders

“No. To await until spring, when the snow is gone.”

“Wait! Oh! it is so long! so long!”

“T have waited these two years, my child.”

“Forgive me, father. We will return and wait, if-——”

“Well, Edna?”

“If the shot has not already alarmed those wretches.”

“We will soon know; but let me get back into the cay-
ern and throw the dead panther out.

“That was as dead a shot, my brave girl, as the famous
Buffalo Bill could have made.”

“Tt was life or death, father, and I am firm in dan-
eer!

“You are indeed, my noble girl,”

Mr. Insley then got back into the cavern, and the body
of the panther was thrown outside, and the two slowly re-
traced their way to their cots.

No sound was heard by them to show that the shot
had reached even the acute hearing of the lion and In-
dian. With bitterness in their hearts at their failure,

 

 

  
 

 

   

   

THE BUFFALO

they hid their bundles, Mr. Insley fastened his chains to-
gether again, and they lay down upon their cots.

The man soon fell asleep, for his long imprisonment
had made him stoical.

But Edna lay awake for a long time, and in her heart
was a resolve that the spring should never find them in
that loathsome den.

Death had dared them to face that waste of snow ; but
Life would dare her to face Death to escape.

CHAPTER XTT-

EDNA MAKES A STRIKE FOR LIBERTY.

When the morning broke, after the unsuccessful at-
tempt of the forlorn captives to escape, it found them very
blue.

Seeing that his daughter seemed almost crushed by
their failure, Mr. Insley endeavored to cheer her.

He told her that their death would Have followed
quickly had they gone forth in that snow, and that in
four months, perhaps, they might be able to make the at-
tempt with every prospect of success.

“Pour months! \t.is an ace. father.”

“Not so long as you think, child. We are certainly not
uncomfortable here, and that redskin gives us good food,
which I certainly have an appetite for, now that I have
you to share my meals with me.

‘We have comfortable cots, the air here is not bad, for
the draught through the cavern keeps it pure, and as we
have so much to “tell each other and plot over for our
plans in the future, we will soon talk the time away.”

“I am glad to see you cheer up so, father. As for
myself, I can stand the delay, only it seemed so hard that
you should have to remain months longer.”

“The very reason that 1 have suffered so long, is why
I care less for the time, my child.”

And thus they cheered each other through the day, and
worn out by their loss of sleep the previous night, they
laid down to rest sooner than was their wont.

An hour, two hours passed, and then Edna raised up
in her cot, and, by the low glimmer of the embers, glanced
over to her father’s bed.

His regular breathing told her that he was aslee

Gently she arose, drew on her shoes and folded a wrap
about her. Cautiously she crept away from the spot, yet
not in the direction in which she had gone before.

This time she took the rocky passageway leading to
the cabin.

As noiselessly as the mountain lion could have gone, .

she went, until at last, by feeling, she knew that she was
at the back of the cabin.

She had noticed, as she came through, that the rock
cupboard against the log wall hid the ‘leather hinges of
the door, as well as the opening, and none would have
suspected that behind it was the entrance to a large cav-
ern, so cleverly had the opening been concealed.

She had also observed that to open it Hugh Harcourt
had merely to pull upon the wooden cupboard.

If that pull opened the secret door from the inside of
the cabin, a push must Sait ee from the cave side,
throw it open, she reasoned.

She shoved lightly against it, yet it did not move.

 

BILL STORIES. 19

She pushed farther, and felt it giv

Then she paused, for she heard. ie fee of one
person within the cabin.

She shoved harder against the door and it opened
wide enough for her to see within.

A cot bed was visible in one corner, yet no one was
asleep upon it, as she could see by the firelight from the
hearth.

Yet the breathing of a sleeper she distinctly heard.

Hugh Harcourt had given up to her, the night she
passed in the cabin, his cot, he had told her, while he,
the Indian and the panther had slept in the adjoining hut.

Where, then, was the occupant of that cot?

Could he be absent?

True, she had not seen him since the day he had left
the cavern, making known his terms, and he might have
returned to Boker. City, confident in the inability of her
father and herself to escape, with the watchful eyes of
the Indian and panther upon them.

Without she heard the wind howling, and that perhaps
drowned any noise she might have made in opening the
secret door.

Unfortunately it opened in such a way she could not
see where the sleeper was who breathed so heavily, and
if there was any one else in the room.

The panther, too, she felt she must keep an eye upon.

But she had come there to see just what kind of watch
was kept, and just what the chances of escape were.

She felt that she must see who that sleeper was, and
gently she opened the door farther.

There were no iron hinges to give an unearthly creak,
and not the slightest sound did she make.

With her revolver in hand, and cocked, to be ready for
any emergency, she pushed the secret door far enough
open to put her head through the crack and look around
toward the fire.

Her eyes fell upon a human form lying before the fire
upon a buffalo robe, and covered with another, and then,
quick as a flash she beheld the crouching body and head
erect of the panther.

He saw her as quickly, and he made his spring.

But she had a nerve of iron, and her finger touched the
trigger, and with the, report the beast fell and roiled
over.

But up sprang the sleeping man, and against him the
revolver was turned, and he sank back to his knees

wounded.

Again the weapon flashed, and this time the man fell
dead.

But the panther was not yet slain, and with a bound
he was upon her, his weight hurling her to the ground,
and his teeth were buried in her arm.

But still Edna Insley lost not her nerve and once,
twice her revolver rang through the cabin, and echoed
back in the cavern, and the muzzle was against the hairy
hide of the savage beast.

Instantly he relaxed his grip upon her arm, and in
her ears rang the clanking of chains, and into the cabin
sprang her father.

Then she knew no more.

When Edna Insley recovered her senses s she was lying
upon the cot in the corner of the cabin and her father,
was bending over her with anxious face.

 
 

     

20 : THE BUFFALO

“Thank God, my child, you have revived. I feared
you were fatally hurt,” said Anson Insley, fervently.

The rattle of the chains clinging to his wrists causec
her to start up suddenly and one sweeping glance around
the cabin told her all.

“Oh, father! I fear I was a great coward to faint as
I did,” she cried.

“Ah! no, my child, for you went through enough to
drive you mad. | :
' “See there lies the Indian you killed, and here is the
panther, and he was dead across your form, his teeth fas-
tened in your soft flesh, when I found you.

“But come, let me look to the wound his teeth have
made, and then we will see what is best to be done.

“But where is Harcourt?”

“T have not seen him.”

“Then he must be away, for the door is fastened from
within.”

She advanced toward the fire, at first totteringly, and
then her father dressed the cruel, ugly wound the brute’s
teeth had made in her beautiful arm.

- Mr, Insley was no mean surgeon, and he soon had the
arm well dressed, and drew the cot up nearer to the fire
for Edna to recline upon.

“Now let us remove these ghastly tributes to your
pluck and deadly aim, Edna. I think they had better go
out through the end of the cavern, where we threw the
panther you killed last night.”

He took up a piece of pine as he spoke, lighted it, and,
seizing the Indian, dragged him into the cavern, for his
strength had not sufficiently returned for him to carry
him.

He was gone fot some little while, and then returned
for the panther, and he, too, made his exit through the
other end of the cavern, a secret that seemed only known
to the brute dweller in the cabin.

When-he returned, Anson Insley brought back with
him the wraps and satchel of his daughter, and there was
that in his face which showed her he had resolved to be
a free man.

“Well, my child, we will make ourselves as comfortable
as possible, and hold this fort against all comers,” he said,
in a cheery tone.

“We will hardly have more than one visitor, father.”

“He shall find us ready to receive him, Edna,” was the
laconic reply.

“Now to get these chains off,” and he searched around
for some instrument with which he could free himself
of his loathsome bonds,

A file he could not find, nor a key to fit the locks on
the manacles; but he discovered a piece of stout wire and
this was made to serve duty to try to pick the locks.

But they had become rusted by long disuse and would
not turn.

In vain he searched for something with which to free
himself, for he could find nothing to aid him.

The irons around the wrist were very thick and wide,
and could not be rubbed in two in a year.

To rub the links loose would take a long time, and he
at once decided to let them alone for the present.

The two ends of the chains were accordingly tied to-
gether and then, throwing them over his neck and shoul-
ders, he said, philosophically ;

    

Bilt STORIES,

‘Well, Edna, in this shape they are more of an orna-
ment than otherwise, and will not retard me in the use of
my arms.”

Seeing that the door was closed securely, Anson Insley
then retired to rest, and the day had dawned when he
awoke.

Out of the cabin he looked, to find how heavy had
been the fall of snow.

‘There was no trail leading away from the cabin, and
he knew that Hugh Harcourt must have gone away be-
fore the last snowstorm and was prevented from return-
ing by its severity. ,

To leave that cabin then, even well mounted, without
a thorough knowledge of the country, or a guide, he weil
knew would be madness.

“No, here we must remain until the spring,” he mut-
tered.

Then he went to the adjoining cabin and unbarred the
door.

There were:two horses within, one of them being Won-
der, Edna’s splendid animal.

The cabin was larger than the other, and was filled, ex-
cepting the space for horses, with dried prairie grass for
provender.

A tiny spring bubbled up in one corner, so there was
at least food and water for the animals.

On the walls of the cabin also hung carcasses of cured
game, from buffalo haunches to wild turkeys.

“So far good; there is food enough, such as it is, for
the horses, and we cannot starve. Snake-with-wings was
certainly a good provider.”

So saying, he threw the horses some hay, watered
them, and returned to the cabin, through the knee-deep
snow.

Edna still lay upon the cot, but was restless, and gaz-
ing at her, to his dread, Anson Insley found that she was
awake and burning with fever.

He spoke to her, and she answered incoherently.

“Great God! she is delirious, and is burning up with
fever.

“Father in Heaven! save my noble, brave girl from
death!’ and the man dropped on his knees beside the cot
and burst into tears.

 

CHAPTER XIV.
THE RENEGADE RETURNS,

Tt was some time before the strong man, worn down
by long imprisonment, chagrin and cruel treatment, could
gain the mastery over himself.

A while before life. seemed to have sunshine drifting
through the dark clouds that hovered over him.

He was free. Two of his worst foes, the redskin and
the panther, were dead, his chains were broken, and he
held the cabin, and the idolof his life, his daughter, was
with him.

There seemed to be but one obstacle for him to over-
come, and that was the man who had brought all this
sorrow and misery upon him.

With no idea that his cabin had changed hands, Hugh
Harcourt, he felt, would return and fall a ready victim,
and he would be avenged.

But then, in the midst of his hopes, came again blank

EET Ep eee

‘cary pest re) fered

eh O 0

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st

<
IE

THE BUFFALO

despair in finding that his beautiful daughter had yielded
to the fremiendous weight upon her, and was stricken
down with fever.

She had been long worried, had passed through much
danger and hardship, and at last the struggle with the
Indian and the panther, in which she had felt the fangs of
the brute crunching through her tender flesh to the bone,
had been too much even for her strong natur

To remain there repining Anson Insley knew would
not save Edna. If she lived, it must be through his care
alone.

Instantly the thought came upon him in all its fullness;
he mastered his emotion, and arose to his feet perfectly
calm.

Laying his hand upon her pulse, he saw that it was
beating rapidly, and her skin seemed to scorch him.

He had acquired considerable knowledge of herbs and
their uses during his border experience, and the cabin
was. well filled with these medical’ plants, gathered by
Snake-with-wings, who was, or had been, a medicine
chief,

setting to work, Anson Insley prepared what he
thought “best, gave them to Edna in proper doses, and
watched the effect most anxiou isly.

And thus the days and nights passed away until at last
the crisis came, and Anson Insley knew. she must die or
liye within the next few hours.

she<seemied, he thought, a trifle better,
for the best.

He had just left her for an instant, to feed and water
the horses for the night, and had left the door of the cabin
partly open to let in a little fresh air.

A few sticks of wood were thrown on the fire to give
light, for night was falling. Turning, Anson Insley “be-
held a man gazing upon him and standing in the door-
way.

‘There was no need for
that man was.

It was Hugh Harcourt, and he held a knife in his hand.

His weapons, Anson Insley knew, were not near him,
for they hung upon the wall near the head of Edna’s cot.
. Driven to madness at the sight of his foe, with a cry
like a wild beast he sprang upon him.

So sudden, so unexpected was the attack, that. Hugh
Harcourt was taken at disadvantage, and the hand that
grasped the knife was in the clutch of his enemy before
he could use it.

Anson Insley had been a wery powerful man, but his
imprisonment had worn him down, and he hada man of
great strength to deal with; but, maddened at the thought
of all he had undergone at the hands of Hugh Harcourt,
forgetting that the same blood flowed in their veins, re-
calling the fact that his loved daughter lay there, perhaps
another victim of the villain before him, he seemed en-
dowed with superhuman power, and the struggle was a
fierce one.

Into the cabin he dragged Harcot urt, at the first on-
slaught, and clinching, they went down together

Then over the floor they fought like wild anin nals, each
striving for the knife held by “Hugh Harcourt.

For a while it seemed as if Anson Insley would be the
victor, but ere long his.weakened frame gave out, and
with grim joy Hugh Harcourt hissed:

and he hoped

him to look twice to see who

 

Ao

TORT rar Se eee ROPERS PNA SD Aral SrA REO ERS TOR AOE SESSA HI

   

BILL STORIES. 21

“Hal you are failing,
you in my power.

“T could kill you now, but I would not, for I will spare
you, to wring by vilest torture, from your lips ae secret
of where you have buried your gold.”

“Never!”

“You'll yield when I put the torture to you,

“Come, you are. now but as a child in my arms, and
back to your den.you go Good God!”

The last cry was from the lips of Hugh Harcourt at
suddenly beholding before him the slender form of a
woman

It was Edna, but worn to a wreck, and her marblelike
face, wan and haggard, her eyes far sunken in her head,
ao upon him with unnatural brilliancy, while in her

and she held a pistol.

Fhe step forward and the bullet sped straight.

Down dropped the haughty head of Hugh Harcourt,
and as one bereft of life his muscles relaxed and he lay
like a dead weight upon the form of his victim.

With a last effort Anson Insley threw off the weight
and staggered to his feet, just in time to catch his da ugh-
ter, from whose hand had fallen. the weapon, and who
was sinking down upon the floor.

Back to her cot he carried her, a giant in strength once
more, and bent anxiously over her.

“Tam unharmed, my brave girl; that wretch is dead
and at last we are free.

“The fever and delirium have left you, so live, live for
me, my. beautiful Edna.”

The weary eyes slowly opened, a smile came upon the
thin lips, and she said, faintly:

““T will live, father.”

Rejoiced at her words, he forgot himself and the fa-
tigue of his savage stru ele, and did all in his power to
aid nature in casting off the disease that had so long held
her in its fetid embrace,

she had taken a reviving a he had given her,
and sunk into a pea aceful sleep, from which he hoped and
believed she would awaken with strength and a hope of
rapid recovery.

Fle bent over her cot until he felt that he could jean
her to close the half-open door and carry the body
through the cavern to throw with that of the Indian and
the panther’ s, for he muttered:

“No, Jocanm ever give that renegade burial,
though the same. blood flows in our veins,’

He turned, and then a cry broke from his lips.

And no wonder, for the bright firelight showed no form
lying upon the floor.

Silently had Hugh Harcourt crept from the cabin and
disappeared in the darkness.

Wi th the morning Edna awoke, and with joy her father

w that she was greatly refreshed.

"Het first glance was toward the door, where had jan
the form of her wicked cousin.

Not seeing it, she turned to her father

“I carried it off and buried it,” he said, with ready
presence of mind, excusing the falsehood under the plea
that it was better for her then to think that he was dead.

But he had already discovered, by going out to the ad-
joining cabin, that Hugh Harcourt had gone, and he had

Anson Insley, and again I have

 

3

even

for explanation.

 

 

 
   

  

   
 
  
   
  
  
  
 
 
  
  
  
  
   
    
    
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
   
 
   
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
   
 
   
  
    

 

22 THE: BUBPALO

carried with him Wonder and the mustang that had be-
longed to Snake-with-wings.

The trails of his horse and the others led down the can-
yon through the snow, which here and there near the
cabin was stained with red drops. Edna’s shot had cer-
tainly wounded, if it had not killed the desperate man,
and cowed him enough to make him seek safety in flight.

 

CHAPTER XV.
HARCOURT PLANS REVENGE.

When Hugh Harcourt was suddenly confronted by the
form of Edna Insley, in his struggle with her father, he
became momentarily unnerved, so ghastly did she look.
He believed that his end had come, yet he seemed not to
have the power to resist.

The bullet fired by Edna was well aimed, for it struck
the object at which the muzzle pointed—the head of her
enemy.

But the ball glanced along the skull, making an ugly
flesh wound, though by no means a serious one.

Its effect upon the man was momentarily stunning, and
seeing that it was not followed up instantly by another,
his cunning led him to pretend to be dead,

Knowing that the father was bending over his daugh-
ter, he quietly turned his head and saw that he was un-
noticed. ‘

Instantly, with the stealthy movement of a panther, he
arose and glided out of the door ‘into the darkness.

For the first time in his life he had trembled in the face
of death. He dared not go back and face the father and
daughter in the cabin.

“The cursed wound has unnerved me, and I feel shaky,
so shall go now.

“But another time I will reap my full revenge, for they
are wholly in my power—or shall be!”

What his last firmly uttered words meant was soon evi-
dent, for straight to the cabin stable he went.

To saddle his own steed and put a lariat on Wonder
and the mustang, and lead them from the stable was a
moment’s work.

Then he bound a handkerchief around his head,
mounted his own horse, and, leading the other two, rode
off in the gloom.

Having already decided upon his course, as he rode
along, he directed his steps toward. a third mountain re-
treat he had made for himself in those fastnesses, and
which Snake-with-wings had not known of.

This was a cavern of vast size, the entrance to which
was almost inaccessible, and the existence of which no
one would ever have suspected.

He had one day climbed a lofty tree to get a bear which
he had shot with his rifle, and which had not fallen, but
died in between two branches.

He had tumbled the bear to the ground, and was about
to follow, when he saw right across from him: on the
cliff a cave.

It opened out upon a shelf of rock, but there was no
possibility of a man reaching the cave from either side,
yet he might descend to the entrance from the cliff above.

Descending the tree, he secured his bearskin, strapped

 

BILE ‘STORIES.

it upon the back of his horse and rode around to reach
the top of the cliff.

This he found impossible to do on horseback, but by the
free use of his lasso to draw him from tree to tree and
point to point, he at last sealed the cliff and stood on the
top looking over into the deep canyon from which he had
come, the tree into the upper branches of which he had
climbed, and down upon the shelf of rock.

" Fastening his lasso to a scrub pine, he had let himself
down to the shelf.

“Ha! here is a hiding place worth having, should I
ever be driven to seek it by either Indian or paleface,”
he had said.

Te entered the cavern, and saw that he was in a vast
rotunda, beyond which was a large tunnel running down-
ward.

He lit some fat pine splints he always carried with him,
and to his surprise, after following the winding tunnel-
like cave for a few hundred yards, came to daylight.

Before him was a dense pine thicket, completely con-
cealing the rear entrance to the cavern, and so thoroughly
hidden that his horse stood within a few feet of him, just
where he had hitched him.

The opening was large enough for him to lead his
horse through, and the intelligent animal had followed
him without any hesitancy. As the upper end was pref-
erable as an abiding place, Hugh Harcourt had made it
his most secret retreat, and during the few years that
had followed, up to the time he was presented to the
reader in the person of Old Buckskin, he had fitted it up
with real comfort and stored it well with dried game and
provender for his home.

It was to this place he wended his way after retreating
from his canyon cabin, He reached it the following day,
and settled himself down to heal his wound and more
thoroughly mature a plan he had half formed in his evil
brain.

 

CHAR TIOR 20v
CAPTAIN BRASS.

Some two weeks after the flight of Hugh Harcourt
from the canyon cabin, where he left Edna and her father
in full possession, a stranger rode into Poker City one
afternoon.

ie looked the city sport throughout, from his patent
leather boots, kid gloves arid velvet vest, to his heavy
watch chain and eyeglasses.

He had blond hair, worn long, side whiskers and a
mustache of the samé hue, and would have better suited
a city thoroughfare as an exquisite than the festive camp

_known as Poker City.

Fe was well mounted, but if armed his weapons were
not visible.

Some of the loafers about the Rancheros’ Exchange set
him down as an English lord. Others said he was a
mine buyer. Many thought he was a soft city gambler,
come West to show what he could win from hard-fisted
miners.

As soon as he had written his name in the register of
the hotel, and been shown to his room by a Chinese bell
boy, so called from courtesy, as there was not a bell in

  

wee me OF oe

> a m* oy Tf

bet

b
 

 

  

THE BUFFALO

the Exchange, an eager crowd rushed up to have a look
at it.

“Capt. Brass—Brasstown.”

Such was what they read, and it made all hands look
at each other.

“Wal, ef he don’t git ther brass polished up on him in
this heur town I are a liar,” said one.

“Tell be sorry he ever left Brasstown,
other.

And so on the remarks went the rounds, until the land-
lord, wishing to protect a guest who seemed to have
money, said:

“IT tell you, boys, my opinion is that he’s a United
States detective, and if so, he’s got backers; so you'd bet-
ter go slow.”

This was a startling opinion to give, for there was
hardly a man present but what was “wanted” in other
parts whence he had come. Accordingly, visions of mis-
deeds committed, and a thought that perhaps he was the
one for whom the stranger had visited Poker City, caused
Carrots to lose a number of good customers that after-
noon, for the mass of the hotel loungers cae until
the real business of Capt. Brass in coming there was
known.

Cr those who knew their. comrades, as well as them-
selves, to be legitimate scoundrels, a meeting was held,
and two of the most innocent of their company were se-
lected to visit the hotel and discover the whys and the
wherefores of the coming of Capt. Brass.

Though they went together these worthies were not
to seem to be working in partnership, and sat on different
sides of the large fireplace, until the appearance of Capt.
Brass after supper.

He edged his way into the best place at the fire and
lighted a cigar. With his hands behind his back, he
began to puff away with a look of perfect contentment,
while he eyed the crowd with a complacent stare that
would have caused him to be instantly “jumped” but for
that detective idea set afloat.

“T say, stranger, yer name are Brass, ain’t it?’ asked
Sandy Tom, one of the committee of two, whose face
would have served as a model of Sin, for it was so well
stamped with wickedness.

“Yes, my natne is Brass,” was the complacent reply.

“Gilt-edge Brass, I guesses?” said Sandy, and a num-
ber present tittered.

“No; Steel-edge Brass.”

This remark was suggestive, but Sandy went on:

“T know’d a Brassy family in Old Kentuck, an’ you
hes ther look of ’em in your face.”

“No accounting for resemblances, my man, for in your
face I see the very likeness of a murderer that is wanted
in Kentucky.”

This was a center shot. Sandy Tom turned deadly
pale and poked the fire viciously, while the crowd
laughed. The second one of the investigating commit-

tee of two, feeling it now incumbent tpon him to say
something, remarked, as he looked at the stranger.

“Perhaps thet are your biz, lookin’ fer fellers as the
law offers a reward fer?”
“It is, Digger Dave, and vou are my game.
Instantly all present saw that the stranger was atmed

29

remarked an-

 

 

BILL STORIES. —

a3

for a revolver suddenly appeared i in either hand, and one
covered the heart of Digger Dave, who started back with
a cry of terror.
-“T want you, sir, to come with me to my room.”
“Capt. Brass’ stock went up above par at once. The
crowd saw he was a man to take care of himself in spite
of his fancy attire and dandy looks.

An ordinary officer of the law would have found many
to side against him. Believing Capt. Brass to be a gov-
ernment ‘detective, no one resisted his arrest of Digger
Dave, whom he led away to his room, while Sandy Tom,
in abject terror, slipped away to report his discovery to
his waiting comrades.

“Well, sir, who am 1?”

“Ther devil only knows, an’ he won’t tell,’ was Digger
Dave’s blunt reply to the question of Capt. Brass when
the two had entered the room of the latter.

“Well, knowing you, Dave, as a most consummate ras-
cal, I will tell you that I am a man who has a little work
on hand that requires just such men as you are to ¢arry
me throu; pp with it.”

“Wal, ef I helps yer, I ’spects ter git set free.”

“That 1s, you don’t wish to be taken back to Kentucky
to be tried for killing your

“Jist hold yer gabble, cap’n, for whar’s ther tse re-
callin’ up them onpleasant mem’ries o’ ther past? Yer
has me, dead sure, an’ yer knows me, or I lies; but ef yer
wants a man ter help yer, [ll do it ef yer lets up on me.”

“Well, I do want not only you, but more of your kind
to: aid me.”

“You means others as has ther same cause as has I fer
lovin’ these heur parts better than where we come from?
Men as yer ’spects will play ther telltale on ther fellers
as has big rewards set on ’em, ter save ’emselves ?”’

“Curse your rewards! I am not looking up men to
take East, merely to get the rewards offered for their
capture, though I could doubtless do a tremendous busi-
ness here in Poker City by capturing all under exile.’

“Oh! yer don’t mean ter say yer isn’t a detective?’

“T play any part I wish.”

“Then yer ain’t been sent arter me ter take me back ter
Kentuck ?”

TENT GL?

“Hallyloojah !”

“But I know of your crime, and that five thousand was
offered by the governor for your apprehension.”

“My appy—what ?”

“Your capture”

“Yes, that is ther sum he conclooded I were wuth,
fer he sat consid’ble store by me.”

“So you told me one day when you were drunk.”

“Durnation |”

“Yes, your tongue let out the secret.”

“You don’t mean it, pard? Wal, now, who is yer,
fer ther Lord’s sake?”

“It does not matter now, but take me to where I can
find Bill Joyce.”

“Yer knows him, too 2’

“That he is as wicked as you are.”

“Then he are a bad man for sartin.”

“And Bummer Bob, and Lasso Dan, and Arizona Kit
and———

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

   

THE BUFFALO

zd

“Now look heur, pard, yer jist knows all ther old
gang. oY

“You mean the old outlaw gang known as the Mus-
tang Hunters, which the soldiers broke up, after hanging
half of them ?”

“Jeroosher! yer has got ’em down fine.”

“T know that there are fully a dozen of them in Poker
City, though not as one organization now, but as loat-
ers, petty thieves, miners, when they have to work, and
cutthroats at large.”

“And you won't tell me who you are.”

es.

“Wal, ‘spit it out, fer I are all ears like a jackass,”

“Let me tell you a few facts. To-night the gang, be-
lieving me a United States detective, hunted cover some-
where?”

“Lordy

“And you and Sandy were sent up to the hotel to
reconnoiter.”’

“Hallyloojah!”

“mandy | has gone back to report, nul you did not.”

“T’ll sw’ar ter thet; but I’d like ter gox

“Well, take me to the shanty where the old band of
Mustang Hunters are, and you are free.”

“Pard, does yer know what they'd do with me ef I,
did?”

“Digger Dave, do you know what Vll do with you
if you don’t?”

There was no doubting the significance of tone, and
manner, and Digger Dave said ruefully :
“Wal, it are a case for a lawyer ter decide what I are

ter, do.”

“T’ll decide for you.

“Come, take me there, and, as I said, you are free,
and I’ll offer you good terms for the future.”

“Pard, they'll chaw me up.”

N67?

“They'll hist me.”

‘mee here.”

“Wal ??

As he spoke the stranger arose, drew his revolver and
slipped his hand in the miner’s arms, in a free and easy
way.

With his knife he slit a hole in his woolen shirt on the
left side, and into this thrust his hand, still grasping the
.revolver, which had its muzzle dangerously near the
heart of the now frightened man.

“Come, Digger Dave, we'll take a little walk together,
and get the air.

“We go just as we are now, and if, when passing
through the crowd, or out upon the street, you make the
slightest effort to cry out, my finger touches the trigger,
and the boys will have you to bury in the morning.

“I give you just fifteen minutes to find the shanty
where the gang now are, and if you do, well and good,
and if you do not, then your chips will be called in.

“Now, sit, march.”

And arm in arm the two men, the gorgeous-looking
stranger and the rough desperado, leit (the, roon, ho

latter as white as a corpse, for he knew how thoroughly
he was at the mercy of the man at his side.

 

 

BILL STORIES.

CHAPTER XVII.
THE DESPERADO DOZEN.

- It was somewhat of a surprise when the man calling
himself Capt. Brass of Brasstown, arm in arm with
Digger Dave,*came through the social hall of the hotel,
on the way to the street.

There were some who laughed at Dave, seeing that he
looked badly scared, and a few questions were asked:

“Whar did yer catch him, cap’n?”

“Thet are ther way I ust ter walk with my old ocoman
ter Sunday sarvice.”

“Are he guilty or not guilty, capn?”’

“Brace up, Dave, fer yer: looks skeert.”

“Whar.is yer goin’, pards?”

“Does yer want company?’

Such was the fire that Capt. Brass and Dave had to
run the gantlet of in passing out to the street.

As for Digger Dave, he looked thoroughly frightened
and said nothing.

Capt. Brass Taughed lightly, nodded and made no
reply.

Reaching the street, Dave did not seem to know which
way to go, and the captain halted.

“Which way, pard?” he asked.

“You know which way,’ was the stern reply.

Oh, Lordy! 1 are’ cold ‘meat er Vitake you thar”
groaned Dave.

i Vogoare if you, dotrt.

“Wal, I feels oncommon oncomfortabie, but I s’pose
TL must.

“T know you shall.”

Dave heaved a sigh of resignation and walked on.

After going down the principal street for some dis-
tance, he turned off toward a jutting spur of an over-
hanging mountain. In a few minutes he halted before a
stout cabin built against the cliff.

Tere we vs, pard:”

“Knock !”?

Dave was about to say he did not Le ow how, when he
felt the revolver muzzle digging into his ribs, and in-
stantly his hand fell heavily tipon the door in three
heavy blows.

| Who § ft asked a stern voice, ater a’ minute’s pause.

“Me.

“Who ?”

“Digger Wave,’

Vane name

“Mustang.” ;

There was heard within the removing ofa heavy bar,
and the door was opened, and in stepped Dave and his
strange companion.

“Hello! who in thunder are this?” cried the man who
had let them in.

“A friend,’ whispered the captain to Dave.

“A friend,” cried Dave, who felt the pistol muzzle.

Y er vouches fer him, Dave?”

“T does#:

“Wal, come in, an’ tell us what were ter pay up at
ther hotel, fer Sandy. hev-said thar were hot times fer
you.”

‘Theres be, eroaned ie not putting the “hot
times’’ in the past, or feeling that they were past by any,

o

 

  
  

means. It was very dark and the man, after closing
the door, moved forward, and the next moment a light
shone ahead.

It eame from a secret door at the back of the cabin,
and opened\into a rock chamber running under the cliff.

There were a couple of tables, some chairs, and a lan-
tern as the furniture of the room, and as occupants nine
men, one of whom was Sandy Tom.

That Tom had been talking, and telling some exciting
story was evident, for the crowd were assembled around
him, as the three entered.

“Pards, here are Digger Dave an’ a friend, he calls
him,” said the door opener, as the three stepped into
the rock chamber.

Instantly every eye fell upon the tall form of the very
man who had been the subject of their conversation, when
interrupted by the knock on the door. Each man present
was upon his feet in an instant, and quick as a flash the
hearts of Digger Dave and the stranger were covered by,
nine revolvers, and as many lips breathed one word:

“Betrayed !”

That Digger Dave was desperately scared by the sud-
den act of his comrades, his face plainly revealed, for he
shrank back in terror, his hands outstretched for mercy,
while the doorkeeper also turned quickly and, springing
out of range of the shots of the others, covered him with
his revolver.

But Capt. Brass, on the contrary, showed not the
slightest alarm,

Nor did he raise the weapon he had heen threatening
Dave with, or exhibit hostile intention.

Calmly folding his arms and smiling, he said:

‘Well, comrades, have you no welcome for an old
friend?” :

“Old friend? You is a detective on our trail,” said a
burly fellow, taking it upon himself to be spokesman.

“No, Lasso Dan——”

“Ver knows me?’ gasped the man.

“Ves, Lasso Dan, I know you well, and Lrepeat, 2 am
no detective, but on the contrary an old comrade,” said
the stranger.

“Who is yer?”

“Capt. Brass of Brasstown.”

“Does any of yer know him, pards, fer I doesn’t?’ and
Lasso Dan appealed to all present.

‘‘Nary one knows yer, pard,” he continued, as all shook
their heads.

“And yet I know all present, and can call the roll
from Arizona Kit to Bummer Bob.”

“Then thet thar traitor hev betrayed us,’ and all
scowled upon Digger Dave, who shouted, lustily:
“Fore Heaven, I hasn’t, pards, as he kin tell yer.”

   

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. ae

“Ver fetched him heur.”

“Yas, an’ yer’d hev did ther same’ef yer hed a shootin’
iron a-ticklin’ yer ribs all ther way. He told me he were
a old pard o’ ther Mustang Hunters.”

An exclamation broke from the crowd at this, and
Capt. Brass said:

“Ves, I forced Dave to bring me here, with my re-
volver on his heart, and I told him the truth when I
said I was a friend of the old Mustang Hunters.”

“T never seen yer afore.”

“That shows how good my disguise is.”

“Ah! yer is under a disguise, is yer?” cried Lasso Dan.

Ves

“Wal, who be yer?”

“Did you ever see a hunter they call Old Buckskin?’

“Wal, we hev, but he ain’t nuthin’ ter do with ther
Mustang pards that were.”

“That you need not be so sure of, Lasso Dan,”

“Wal, he didn’t give none o’ us ther sign.”

“Nor hev I.”

‘“Thet are $0; pits yer can't get out o” heur wiient 1

“We shall see.”

“Say, pard, has yer a regimint 0’ sogers outside?” asked
Dan, in alarm, and all, looked uneasy.

‘No, tam alone.’

“Wal, we hes got yer dead, then.”

Without noticing this remark, the stranger asked

“What ever became of your captain?”

“You mean Capt. Hugh?”

ONES

“Wal, he got caught, but managed ter git away, an’
durned ef he ain’t been chawed up by grizzlies, or scalped
by reds, fer all we knows, fer he ain’t showed up heur
since he got his neck out o’ ther noose ther Vigilantes
hed around it.” |

‘Pards, Pani Cape. Hugh? i

A yell broke from the crowd, for with the utterance
of his words the stranger had removed his most cleverly
made disguise, and the dark, evil face of Hugh Harcourt,
the man of numerous aliases and. disguises, was revealed.

It was evident, from the welcome he received, that
he was most popular among the band, or the remnant of
the band of horse thieves which he had once commanded.
Digger Dave, in his delight, danced around him with a
step that reminded one of the gambols of a baby elephant.

It was evident that he took the whole credit of the cap-
tain’s coming upon himself.
‘Whar hes yer been, cap’n?’
“How chipper yer is a-lookin’.”
“Times look good with yer.”
“Wal, now, I are glad ter see yer.”

“Any more biz on hand, cap’n?”

  
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
  
  
   
  
 
  
  
 
 
  
  
  
  
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 
  
  
   
     
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE BURP ALO

26

Unable to reply to one and all the inquiries pouring
upon him, Hugh Harcourt said: |

“Boys, I am not only not dead yet, but ‘Ll am on the trail
for gold and revenge more than a miser for the one and
a wolf for the other. |

“T know these mountains as you do this cabin, and I
have got retreats no living man can find, and I intend
going into business again.”

“Bully for ther cap’n,’ came a chorus of voices.

“T have a little game up in the mountains I wish your

help for, but I have little hope that it will yield me more —

than revenge.

“But I need money, and so do you, and I can get it
for all of us.”

“You. is singin’ ther correct tune now,’

“We is yer honies,” said another. :

“Cap’n, jist you be ther kite and we'll be ther tail.”

“Mv plan, then, is for you all to quit loafing and go
“to work.”

“Phet are ward, cay a,

“Get the confidence of the good peopie of Poker
ity ,

“Work hard, quit drinking, and in a short time nobody
will suspect you of being the rascals you are.”

“That are so, fer we'll jine ther meetin’ held by Parson
Skimmins.””

>

, cried one.

“Don’t go it too strong, only appear good, honest fel-
lows up to spring, and then if anything goes wrong, you
know, no one will suspect you.

“In the meantime I'll lay all my plans, and when we set
to work we'll make fortunes.”

“We is to be a band, then?”

“Yes; and as we are just twelve, we'll call ourselves
the Desperado Dozen.”

“Thet are ther p’izen o’ a good name, cap’n.”

“Yes, I like it, and the Overland and settlers will soon
dread it, though no one must suspect any of us.

“As for me, I’ll be thought a, detective still; and go
back to the hotel and say I was mistaken in Digger
Dave.”

“Thet will give me a recommend, an’ ef yer will only
throw in a little soft soap, cap’n, Carrots will let me hang
up a drink or two now and then,” said Dave.

“Now, boys, you understand that your old captain is
on the trail once more.

“This time it is not horse stealing, but a gold ‘trail.

“Here, treat yourselves all around and keep together.”

He threw down a handful of gold on the table, and
after a few more words retraced his way to the hotel,
where he won the way to the hearts of all-in the bar by
treating to drinks all around,

Bi STORIES

Going up to his room, he began pacing to and fro,

- and half aloud he muttered:

“Well, this is good so far, and if I don’t force from
Anson Insley the secret of where he has hidden his gold,
T will take to the Overland trail as a road agent in the

“spring. :

“Tf I do get the gold Vl marry that haughty girl, Ed-
na, and seek other lands.

“Well, the spring will soon show what is to be.

“They cannot leave the cabin until the snow is all
gone, and there is no danger of an Indian even going
there, so they are safe.

“Tl go to the camp of old Blue Cloud, the renegade
Sioux chief, and get half a dozen of his young warriors
to join us and then I will have it all my own way.

“Ay, so mutch of my own way that I will kill Anson
Insley and his daughter, too, if I cannot find the gold.”

Having made up his mind as to his course, he retired
to rest and slept as though his was not a crime-stained
conscience, so hardened had his heart become with

wickedness.

For some time he remained in Poker City, gambling
heavily at the Palace of Fine Arts, and seeming to en;

“joy life, and watching closely the conduct of the members

of the Desperado Dozen to see if he could rely upon
them.

At last, feeling that the spring was near at hand, hav-
ing laid his plans, he mounted his horse and set forth for
the distant camp of the renegade Sioux chief, bent upon
the fulfillment of his fiendish plot for gold against Anson
Insley and his beautiful daughter.

se

CHAPTER XVIII.
BUFFALO BILL TO THE RESCUE.

Immediately after his encounter with the two giants
known as Brunette and Blond Bill, Buffalo Bill was
about to seek Miss Insley to inform her that he was
ready to undertake her mission. Little did he know at
that time that she had already set out upon her search
under the guidance of traitorous Old Buckskin. ©

He was not to linger long enough to ascertain this
fact, for Fate, in the shape of a mounted messenger, rode
up just as Cody was about to approach Landlord Dave
to question him concerning Miss Insley.

The messenger placed in Buffalo Bill’s hands a sealed
packet detailing him at once for a duty for the govern-~
ment. The matter brooked no delay, and the scout, al-
ways quick to act, rode off at once.

The btSiness kept him away from Poker City a much
longer time’ than he anticipated. When he returned he

 
  

felt a strange foreboding concerning Miss Insley. He
went at once to the landlord of the hotel.

“Dave,” he said, “go to Miss Insley’s room and tell
her I have returned and wish to see her.”

“She is not there, pard, and durned if I know where
she is,’ said Landlord Dave, in answer.

‘What! has she gone?” asked Buffalo Bill, in surprise.

“Ves; she left several weeks ago.”

“And alone?”

“No, with Old Buckskin.”

“What?”

“With that white-haired hunter from the mountains
we call Old Buckskin.” |

“She went alone with him?”

“She did.”

“is ds. strange.’

“So I thought, but I had an idea you knew about it.”

“T knew ?”

“Ves, for Old Buckskin told Carrots that you had
sent him with a message to Miss Insley.”

“The infernal old liar! I did no such thing,

“Dave, there is some mystery about that white-haired
hunter.

“He seems square, but it looks as though he might
be crooked.

“Tell me about his coming and the departure of Miss
Insley with him.”

The Governor told all he knew, excepting the eaves-
dropping occurrence, which he wisely kept back, and
how the maiden had paid him a good price for the horse,
Wonder, and asked him to keep her trunk until her re-
turn.

“This is very strange, Dave.”

“Yas; it does not look straight.

“But, Bill, you know Trailer Tom?”

EN eS.

“Well, he lost his life the same night.”

“He was killed, poor fellow?”

“Ves, and we planted him over with Jake Goss, Dandy
Roe and the other boys in the new graveyard, the old
one being full.”

“Who killed him?’ asked Cody.

“Now that is the rub. It seems Trailer Tom saw Old
Buckskin and Miss Insley going off that way in the
night, and followed them.

“What happened, I don’t know, but Tom came back
here dying from a’ wound in his side, and says she shot
him.” !

HOHE

“Yes, Miss Insley.”

“Good God! Can this be possible?”

“Trailer Tom thought it was,’
the Governor.

?

was the dry remark of

   

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

 

 

27,

‘After further talk with the landlord, Buffalo Bill
formed his purpose quickly. He must set out at once
to seek Miss Insley. It became clear to him that Old
Buckskin must have seen the girl during her stay at the
hotel and recognized. her as the daughter of Anson
Insley.

“There is something back of this. He knows about
the gold,” concluded the scout, as he thought the matter
over.

So, believing that treachery of some kind was afoot,
Buffalo Bill set out alone to rescue Edna Insley.

He took the road which Old Buckskin had taken with
Edna the night of the killing of Trailer Tom.

His wonderful manner of reading the signs about
him gave him an idea of the course which they must
have taken.

But getting further into the mountains, he was at a
loss to know which way they could have gone.

Could he not find the retreat of Old Buckskin, which
he felt confident could not be very many miles away,
after a few days’ search, it was his intention to go to the
village of Black Bear, and get a hundred of his best
warriors, and then he knew success was certain.

For two days he searched alone, not wishing to call
on the Indians if he could avoid it, and not desiring to
lose the time it would take to go to their village and back,
for the mountains were not yet wholly free from snow,
and the traveling was dangerous and bad.

At the end of the third day he was about to start for
the village, and give up further search alone, when,
hanging on a small tree, just in front of his face, he saw
an object fluttering.

Riding forward, he saw that it was a lady’s veil.

The wind had whipped it out, and the veil was badly
torn, but still it held firmly upon the branch, which had
evidently caught it as Edna rode beneath, and drawn it
from her head, for he did not doubt that it was hers.

After looking at it carefully he came to several the-
ories that were correct:

First. It had been months on that branch.

Second. It had been torn from her head while she
was passing beneath on horseback.

Third. The manner in which it was caught on the
branch showed that she was going to the north.

Fourth. It had been taken off at night, or she would
have returned and found it. .

Fifth. It was torn off in the midst of the snowstorm
that had followed her departure from Poker City, or she
would have, at any rate, turned and searched for it; but
as she did not, she was doubtless urged on by Old Buck-
skin to hastily seek some shelter.
   

28 THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

Sixth. Old Buckskin was too good a borderman to
look for a temporary shelter in that snowstorm, or to
have pressed on without a definite point in view, and
therefore the retreat could not be far away.

The steepness of the mountain path, on which the veil
was found, had before prevented Buffalo Bill from think-
ing Old Buckskin had led Edna by that rough trail.

But now there could be no doubt which way they had
gone, and on Buffalo Bill went until night caused him
to camp.

With the first streak of day he was again in the. sad-
dle, and had gone but a short distance when he came
to a ridge that overlooked a deep canyon.

Down in the gorge, and at its end, curling up above
the treetops, he saw a thin wreath of smoke.

“By Heaven! I have found: them.”

The cry broke from his lips in ringing tones, and, tak-
ing the nature of the country in at a glance, he saw, the
best way to reach the cabin from whence he: knew the
smoke must come.

On he rode at a swift canter, where the nature. of the
ground permitted, and in an hour’s time was in the can-
yon.

But hardly had he entered the wild valley when he
heard several shots fired in rapid succession, followed by
wild yells, which he knew but too well were Indian
war cries. Nb

On he sped like the wind, and two: minutes after a
thrilling scene burst upon him.

Before him were two cabins, and against one of them
was piled logs, which had been set on fire.

Around the cabin dodged, from tree to tree, half a
dozen forms, and two lay dead upon the grass.

Of those that were carrying on their devilish work he
recognized the Desperado Lae of Poker City, and the
others were Indians.

Could he be mistaken in beholding in the leader Old
Buckskin ?

No, he knew him at a glance.

With a yell that drowned the cries of the Indians he
dashed upon the scene, his revolvers in either hand.

Not until he went into their midst like a meteor did
the dastardly fiends see him, and then they broke in
wild terror, believing that he rode in advance of a large
military company..

But then from the cabin came a cry in the voice of
Edna Insley, for the flames were gaining headway, and
straight forward rode Buffalo Bill,.to put out the fire, for
he saw Old Buckskin and his friends had fled in terror.

Away from the cabin door he kicked the burning
ogs, and then out sprang Edna Insley, pale, wan-look-

-ing and so changed from her oS self that ae hardly

knew her.

¥

Behind her came Anson Insley, and he cried, in ring-
ing tones:

“Oh, sir; let not that wretch escape you!”

“Old Buckskin, you mean?” said Buffalo Bill.

“Ay, Old Buckskin, Hugh Harcourt, or whatever else
he calls himself.

“Oh, sir! you are mounted, and I beg you, although
you have saved us, let not that devil escape.”

Away bounded Buffalo Bill in pursuit, and most anx-
iously did Anson Insley and his daughter await his’ re-
turn.

At last he came back, and he made his report.

The Indian allies had scaled the deep side of the can-
yon and had escaped. Of the Desperado Dozen he had
seen nothing, but their leader, Hugh Harcourt, was
dead. For Buffalo Bill’s horse had stumbled over Har-
court’s body where it lay across the trail, covered with
wounds.

“We have their horses,’ said Cody, “which they left
behind in their frenzy, so we can set out at once for
Poker City.”

In a short. while the traps in the cabin were packed
on the mustangs, and, mounting Edna on his own horse,
while he rode one of the ponies, the party started on their
trail to the mining camp.

Without further adventure, Buffalo Bill, with Mr. Ins
ley and Edna, arrived at Poker City, and were warmly
welcomed.

Edna was given the same rooms she had occupied be-
fore she had started off under the guidance of the treach-
erous Old Buckskin, as she then knew him, and she was
as delighted as a child over new toys at being once more
able to have the prized contents of her trunk at her dis-
posal.

Mr. Insley fitted himself out with a new suit at Sloan’s
store, and though it was by no means a stylish cut, he
began to feel the gentleman once more.

With Buffalo Bill’s help Anson Insley made arrange-
ments to transport his gold from the hiding place he had
guarded so faithfully to his old home in the East, where
many years of happiness with his daughter awaited him, .

THE END.

Next week’s issue (No. 134) will contain “Buffalo
Bill’s Gold Trail; or, the Desperado Dozen.” In this in-
teresting story there is a reappearance of the beautiful
half-breed Indian girl, Red Gove, who assists the noted
scout in the delicate and dangerous mission he has un-
dertaken. How Buffalo Bill and Red Dove trail Capt:
Tiger and the Desperado Dozen to their secret retreat
and secure the large fortune in gold which awaits the
heroine is but.a part of this stirring story of a gold trail,

“which all will want to read.

   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
    
  
   
  
   
 
   
   
    
    
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
     
 

 

 

 

CONTAINING
THE MOST UNIQUE AND FASCINATING TALES OF WESTERN ROMANCE

 

 

 

 

 

Ss abs gest Nase ANS. AGE MOET

339—Diamond Dick’s Race for Gold; or, The Lost Treasure Box.
340—Diamond Dick Missing; or, The Veteran’s Unknown Pard. —
341—Diamond Dick’s Trip East; or, Turning the Tables on the City Sharps.
342—Diamond Dick’s Summer Resort; o, High Old Times at the Sea Shore.
343—Diamond Dick’s “Give-and-Take’; or, Caught in the Undertow.

   

 

344—Diamond Dick’s “White Ghost”; or, Run Down by Auto.

345—Diamond Dick at the Circus; or, An 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 Waif’s Big Winning.
348—Diamond Dick’s Stand-Off; or, The Shotgun Messenger’s Last Trip.
349—Diamond Dick at Fort Piegan; or, Calling an Army Bluff.
350—Diamond Dick’s Makeshift; or, The New ‘Boss at Hold-Over. -
351—Diamond Dick’s Golden Spike; or, Bucking the Track Layers.

352—Diamond Dick’s Schedule; or, The First Train to Dangerfield.

354—Diamond Dick’s Double-Bill; or, A Hot Turn Between Acts.
355—Diamond Dick’s Farewell Performance; or, A Warm Go for the Gate Money.
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 “Bly-by-night.”

358—Diamond Dick’s World-Beater; or, The Race for the Hurricane Handicap.
3s9—Diamond Dick’s Boy Pards; or, The Boarding House Puzzle.
360—Diamond Dick and the Safe-Crackers; or, Two-Spot’s Level Best.
361—-Diamond Dick’s Last Call; or, Run Down on the Ferry.

363—-Diamond Dick’s Line-Up; or, The Young Sport’s Banner Play.
364—Diamond Dick’s Web-Foot Pard; or, Queer Work on the Hurricane Deck.
365—Diamond Dick’s Run to Denver; or, Old Sixty’s Last Mix-Up.
366—Diamond Dick Among the Pueblos; or, A Bold Play for a Big Stake.
367—Diamond Dick’s Dark Chase; or, Captured by Flash-Light.
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.

‘ oes 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.
tiene Dick’s Treasure-Trove; or, The Secret of the Great Stone Idol.
373—Diamond Dick in the Field; or, Handsome Harry’s Peril.

}

 

 

 

 

All of the above numbers always on hand. If you cannot get them from your newsdealer, five
cents a copy will bring them to you by mail, postpaid.
STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 238 William Street, New York.

 

caine

 

LES Wine A

362—Diamond Dick’s Four-Hands-Round; or, A Game of Keeps in the Catskills, iy

353—Diamond Dick’s Wild West; or, A Fair Field and No Favor. |

 

 

  
 

 

 

 

Contains Stories of YOUNG BROADBRIM, the famous Boy Detective, sabi
OLD BROADBRIM, the Great Quaker.

 

 

33—Old Broadbrim Doomed by an Invisible Hand; or, The Victims of the Vial of Death.

a Ole Broadbrim in the Jaws of a Tigress; or, Fighting Against Fearful Odds.

35-—Old Broadbrim Trumping the Trick; or, dhe Girince Disappearance from a Wagner
Car.

36-—Old Broadbrim In and Out of the Toils; or, The Pursuit of Red McMahon and His
Gane.

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 Dealin ig the Death Cards; or, The Doom of the Scarlet Stranglers.

40-——Old Broadbrim Balking a Deep-Laid Plot; or, Geraldine Joslyn’s Remarkable Double.

41—Old Broadbrim Tracking the Dead; or, The Hidden Battery of Doom.

42—Old Broadbrim Always on Hand; or, The Target of an Infamous Band.

43--Old Broadbrim in a Fight for Millions; or, The Daring Impersonation at Stonelow
Grange.

44—Old Broadbrim at Close Quarters; The Puzzie ot the Blue Silk Cord.

45—Old Broadbrim Under Crime’s Phmbs 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 Case.

48—Old Broadbrim in a Deep Sea Struggle; or, A Helping Hand from Nick Carter.

49-—Old Broadbrim on the Wrong Case; or, Revenge After Two Years.

s0—Old Broadbrim in the Dark; or, Throwing Light on a Tangled Mystery.

51—Old Broadbrim on the Stage; or, How the Quaker Foiled a Female Fiend.

52—Young Broadbrim,*the Boy Detective; or, The Old Quaker’s Youthful Ally.

53-—-Young Broadbrim in Kansas City; or, What Was Found in the Flood.

54—Young Broadbrim on an Aérial Trail; or, The Terrible Ordeal of Fire.

55—Young Broadbrim & Company; or, Solving the Mysteries of Rockwood.

56-—-Young Broadbrim Triumphant; or, The Girl Cracksman.

57-—-Young Broadbrim Fighting an Unknown Power; or, A Scientific Murderer.

58—Young Broadbrim on a Weird Case; or, The Mvstery of the Phantom Voices.

s9——Young Broadbrim on a Long Trail; or, Dandy Dick Shanghaied.

60-~Young Broadbrim on a Newsboy ee or, Dandy Dick’s First Case.

61 Young Broadbrim on the Border; Catching the Smugglers of Canada.

62--Young Broadbrim in the Lumber bas or, Getting the Best of Outlaws.

63—Young Broadbrim and the Hotel Thieves: or, Clever Crooks Rum 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.

 

All of the aLove numbers always on hand. If you cannot get them from your newsdealer, five cents a copy
will bring them to you by mail, postpaid,

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 238 William Street, New York.

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

SENS THe

 

 
 
   

   

ce Eas
ft

Containing the Most Thrilling Adventures of the Celebrated
Government Scout “BUFFALO BILL” (Hon. William F. Cody).

TRENT EY cog IT AEASED
= anni een

98—Buffalo Bill’s Rush-Ride; or, Sure-Shot, the High-Flyer.
99—Buffalo Bill and the Phantom Soldier; or, Little Sure-Shot’s Lone Trail.
100—-Buffalo Bill’s Leap for Life; or, Phe White Death of Beaver Wash.
to1—-Buffalo Bill and the Dead-Shot Rangers; or, The Prairie Outlaw at Bay.
102—Buffalo Bill in Dead Man’s Swamp; or, Trailing the Red Man Hunters,
103—Buffalo Bill’s Pony Patrol; or, The Mysterious Boy of the Overland.
104——Buffalo Bill in Disguise; or, The Boy Boomer at Danger Divide.
10s—-Buffalo Bill’s Ordeal of Fire; or, The Siege of Longhurst Ranch.
 yo6—Buffalo Bill on a Renegade’s Trail; or, The White Queen of the Mandans.
107—Buffalo Bill’s Balloon Trip; or, Foiling the Apaches.
108—Buffalo Bill’s Drop; or, Dead Shot Ned, the Kansas Kid.
109-——Buffalo Bill’s Lasso-Throwers; or, Shadow Sam’s Short Stop.
110—Buffalo Bill’s Relentless Trail; or, The Unknown Slayer of the Black Cavalry.
t11—Buffalo Bill and Silent Sam; or, The Woman of the Iron Hand. :
112—Buffalo Bill’s Raid on the Midnighters; or, Following a Specter Guide.
113—Buffalo Bill at Beacon Rock; or, Drawing Lots with Death.
/114—Buffalo Bill and the Wolves of Mexico. :
11s—Buffalo Bill and the White Buffalo; or, The Black Horse , Rider.
116—Buffalo Bill and the Prairie Hercules; or, The Spectre Soldier of the Overland.
117-——Buffalo Bill and the Doomed Thirteen; or, Out on the Silver Trail.
113-—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.
122—Buffalo Bill’s Pards of the Plains; or, The Dread Shot Four. :
123—Buffalo Buill’s Helping Hand; or, The Secret of Kid Glove Kate.
124Buffalo 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, W hite Coyote, the Renegade Chief.
131—-Buffalo Bill’s Dead-Shot Dragon; or, The Man-Killer of Perdition City.
132-—Buffalo Bill’s Trump Card; or, The Indian Heiress.
oe : a reid pee ee Sawin
All of the above numbers always on hand. If you cannot get them from your newsdealer, five
cents a copy will bring them to you by mail, postpaid.

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 238 William Street, New York.

opttsagitiee.

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

  

LARGEST CIRCULATION
IN AMERICA,

TIP. TOP. WEEKLY

The ideal publication for the
American youth Contains
stories of the adventures of
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Dick Merriwell Surprised: er, Cap’a Wiley’s Wind Jammers,

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Dick Merriwell’s Distrust; or, Meeting the Masked Champions.
Frank Merriwell’s Grand Finish; or, The Independent Champions

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Upright and Hogest; or, Harry Hale’s Struggle to Success.

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Two Young inventors ; or, The Treasure of Tiree Pine Mountain.
The Life ef the School; or, Out for Fun and Fortune.

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Tom Hamlin, Mesmerist; or, The Boy With the Iroa Will.

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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 and
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 Carteron a Parisian Trail; or, The Death Trap ofthe ‘‘Silencers’’

348. Nick Carter’s Battle Against Odds ; or, The Mystery of the Detroit
Pawnbroker.

349. Nick Carter on His Metal. or, The Trapping of Cool Kate.

350. Nick Carier’s Life Chase; or, The Shot From Ambush.

351. Nick Carter’s Chain of Guilt; or, The Robbery of Express No. 5.

 

STORIES OF THE
FAR WEST.

Diamond Dick Weekly

These are stories about the
Bicee Diamond Dick and his son,

ertie. Every boy will be more
than satisfied with these tales,
because they are drawn trueto
life, and are extremely interest-
ing. Diamond Dick is a dead
shot, and never allows a des-
perado to get the drop on him.

The following is a list of the
: E latest numbers:

i

 

 

359. Diamond Dick’s Boy Pards; or, The Boarding House Puzzle.

360. Diamond Dick and the Safe Crackers ; or, Two Spot’s Level Best.

361. Diamond Dick’s Last Call; or, Run Down on the Ferry.

362. Diewoas vee Four Hand’s Round; or, A Game cf Keeps ia the
aeskills, i

363. Diamond Dick’s Line Up; or, The Young Sport’s Banner Play.

364. Be wicks Web Foot Pard; or, Queer Work oa the Hurricane
eck,

 

 

 

 

 

 

52.
53.
54.
53.

56.

 

More Reading Matter Than
Any Five-Cent Detective
Library Published,

Yount Broadbrim. Weekly

Young Broadbrim is the
shrewdest and most clever boy
detective that ever lived. His
marvelous strength and wonder-
ful-nerye enables him to pene-
trate where most men would
fear togo.

All the tales of his adventures
are absolutely new.

The following is a list of the
latest numbers written espec-
jally for this line:

 

 

Young Pah os acd the Boy Detective; or, The Old Quaker’s Faithfu

ly.
Young Broadbrim in Kansas City; er, What Was Found 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 Triumphant; or, The Girl Cracksman.
Young Broadbrim Fighting sn Unknown Power; or, A Scientific

Murderer.

 

‘TALES OF FRONTIER] »
ADVENTURE.

Buffalo Bill Stories

Every boy ought to read the
- adventures of Buffalo Bill, as
detailed in this library.

They are full of lively advent-
ure, and just the kind that thrills
the heart of every true boy.

The following is a list of the
latest numbers:

   

hag ie 5
120. Buffalo BiIPs Discovery; or, The Mystery of the Gold Treasure.
121. Buftalo Bill’s Clean-Up: or, Routing the Rascals of Yellow Dust

City. ;
122. Buffaio Bill’s Pards of the Plains; or, The Dead Shot Four.
123. Buffalo Bill’s Helping Hain ; or, The Secret of Kid Glove Kate.
124, Buffalo Bill’s Boy Pard ; or, Captain Hyena and His Red Angels.
125. Bufialo Bill’s Sacrifice; or, Waneta, the Indian Queen.

 

 

 

 

 
 

 
Ieee hehehehehe bbbbbbbebbbbbbb@
Largest Circulation of Any 5c. Library Published

Tip Top Weekly

THE IDEAL PUBLICATION FOR THE AMERICAN YOUTH

 

 

The stories that appear in Tip Top have been written especially for the bright,
up-to-date American lad. They detail the adventures of Frank and Dick Merriwell, two
brothers, who are all-around athletes with plenty of pluck and dash.

LATEST NUMBERS.
384—Frank Merriwell’s Quick Move; or, Cooling Off Cap’n Wiley. :
385—Dick Merriwell’s Red Friend ;

or, Old Joe Crowfoot to the Front.
ue rank Merriwell’s Nomads; or, Cap’n Wiley’ s Clever Work.
387—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust;

ot, Meeting the Masked Champions.

388—Frank Merriwell’s Grand Finish;

ot, [he Independent Champions of America.
, 389—Dick Merriwell Back at Fardale; or, Getting Onto the Eleven.
390—Dick Merriwell’s New Enemy; or, The Hatred of Barron ae
391—Dick Merriwell’s Hard Struggle;

ot, Great Work on the Gridiron.

392—Dick Merriwell Held in Check;
or, Chester Arlineton’ s Successful Move.

393—Dick Merriwell’s Firm Hand; or, Settling Old Scores.
394—Dick Merriwell’s Last Resort; or, Fighting Hard to the Finish.

 

 

EAofe fF hehe ELIA LLLP PLL LDL EL ELLA ELLE LLL ATRL RS IR RHR AL Le LIAL ALO)

 

 

To be had from all newsdealers, or sent upon the receipt of price, S5c.,
by the publishers

STREET & SMITH, 238 William St., New York City

EAL ADEE EAI AIA AIDE EIDE PEP EEF AO

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