DEVOTED T0 BORDER HISTORY

 

 

 

Issued Weekly. By Subscription $250 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at New York Post Office by STREET & SMITH, 238 William St., N. Y.

‘No. 169.

Price, Five Cen ts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

v0ceeed

 

 

 

Buffalo Bill suddenly loosened the coil, took a few quick strides toward the Mountain Mystery, and then flung
the lasso. The noose fell over the head of Manton, and while a roar of rage came from the
mysterious giant, the coil was drawn tight, and held him fast.

 
 
 

a a

 

 

A WEEKLY PUBLICATION
DEVOTED TO BORDER HISTORY

 

 

Issued Weekly. By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the N. VY. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 238 William St., NV. Ye
Entered according to Act of Congress tn the year 1904, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D, C.

 

 

No. 169.

NEW YORK, August 6, 1904

Peice Five Cents,

 

IFFALO BILL'S DARK DRIV

OR,

Manton, the Mountain Mystery.

 

By the author of “BUFFALO BILL”

 

CHAR TERK: 1.
OVER THE CHASM,

_ A wild, mournful cry sounded on the air, quavering
“tremulously, and awakening a score of strange echoes
_ among the rocks of those lonely heights.

_ The day was drawing to a close.

' Already, in the deeper gulches, the early twilight
was deepening into darkness.

_ On the lofty pinnacles of rock the glow of sunset
_glinted and transformed base metal into gold.

There was a scanty growth of herbage and an occa-
sional tree; but as a whole, the landscape, over sev-
eral square miles of territory, was about as bare of
‘living growth as could be imagined.

Of the gulches and natural chasms there were many.

Across one of the deepest of these wag strung a stout
rope, one end of which was tied to one of the few trees
in the vicinity, while the other end was attached to a
loose bowlder of sufficient weight to hold it firmly.

  

i

 

The distance across the chasm was about thirty feet.
The depth at that point was probably eighty.

Midway betwixt the two ends of the cable which —
was stretched across, something hung suspended, now
and then swinging slightly to and fro, but mostly mo-
tionless or nearly so.

It was a man!

The rope swung slack, sagging heavily in the center,
and springing slightly when the one suspended from
it made any movement of legs or body.

The man was certainly alive, for he moved. An-
other sign that he lived was the fact that the mournful
cries that occasionally broke upon the silence came
from his lips.

It
was one from which escape without aid would be ab-

solutely impossible.
At a glance, too, it would have been difficult ta

It was a strange situation, and a terrible one.

 
 

Re j
4a: 4

@

oy t
AEP ic 5 Sih es Seg eg 8

2 THE BUFFALO

understand how a man could be placed in such a situ-
ation.

It would seem that it must have required the efforts
of several persons to have accomplished the feat.

These doleful and lingering cries had been repeated
several times, at intervals which could not have been
more exactly the same had they been measured by a
watch.

But now there came a longer interval. Besides,
the suspended figure remained motionless during the
period, so motionless that one might have believed
that death had come to relieve the agony of the unfor-
tunate person’s situation.

At last, however, the figure moved again, and a mo-

\/ ment later the cry again rang out, this time louder
| than it had done before since the very beginning.

It was as if there had been a renewal of hope or
strength, resulting in a more strenuous effort toward
summoning a possible rescuer.

# Almost instantly after the utterance of the last cry
there came another sound to break the brooding silence
of the solitude.

It was the clatter of iron-shod hoofs on the flinty
trail that crossed the mountain spur.

Soon the horseman appeared around a projection
and came at a dashing pace directly toward the brink
of the chasm.

It almost looked for the moment as if the rider
did not. know of the presence of the gulch and the
declivity which there was danger of overriding to his
own doom.

But it soon appeared that_there was neither heed-
lessness nor blindness to blame for the seeming igno-
rance of the danger.

For the rider reined in his horse almost upon the
brink of the chasm, and so close to the bowlder to
which one end of the rope was attached that he could
have touched it with an outstretched hand.

The horseman was Col. William F. Cody—Buffalo

| Bill!

Pe

For an instant he sat motionless in his saddle, staring
out toward the middle of the space where the human
form hung suspended.

“Hi, there!” he sang out, in his ringing tones.

A quick, hopeful yell came back from the unknown. '

There was that in the intonation that was full of

~ more than one kind of significance to Buffalo Bill.

“It is an Indian!” he muttered.
He flung himself from the saddle and, bending to-

BILE Si ORI Eo.

 

ward the open chasm, strained his eyes to'make out the
suspended form with greater distinctness.

He took in at a glance the manner in which the
rope was fastened across the chasm, and he could make
out that the one suspended by it had the rope fastened
under his arms in such a manner that it could do him
no fatal injury.

It seemed to have been the purpose of his foes to
leave him there to die a lingering death from starva-
tion, coupled with the very horror and loneliness of
the position. i

It was a piece of refined cruelty which should have
belonged to red-skinned foes rather than white.

But on that score, as Buffalo Bill had good reason to
know, the savagery of his own race oftentimes ap-
peared in a blacker guise than did that of the Indian
at his worst.

For that matter, Cody had no assurance that the
one thus doomed was not in some measure deserving
of ‘the fate which had been provided for him.

“Who is it?’ he next demanded, in a tone that
might not have been entirely reassuring to the un-
known Indian.

Ven pun: foe,
weakness.

“Injun Joe?’ repeated the scout, meditatively. Then
he recalled when and where he had heard that name
before.

came back, in a voice that shook with

Instantly the manner of the scout became more eager
and positive.,

“Flow long have you been in that pickle, Injun?”
Buffalo Bill next demanded.

“Long, long while. More’n one whole sun. Heap
long. Save pretty quick, poor Injun die; no have any-
thing eat, heap!’’-

“We'll get right about it, Injun. But maybe it will
be no cinch to get you out of that. How are you hung
up? I can’t make out, it is so dark.”

“Rope hitch under arms. Knots tight round. body.
No get loose, hang here whole year.”

“T wish I could see just how you were fixed without
crawling out there myself. You've got to be freed of
the loop around your body. If that was cut would
it let you drop into the ravine?”

There wasea moment of silence.

Evidently the Indian was figuring on the chances as
Buffalo Bill had suggested them.

“No; rope round body cut, Injun not drop. But

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

him hands tied heap tight. Him not cut rope if he
have knife. Un’stand?r”

“T understand, Injun. You can’t help yourself any,
not even if you have a knife. And for that matter, I
don’t see any very slick way of getting you out of it.
I’ve got to crawl out there myself. Does the rope
seem to be strong?” :

“Heap strong.”

As for you, Joe, I’m not even sure that you’re worth
the trouble. You used to‘steal whisky and tobacco
up at Fort Buford. The commandant threatened to
shoot you if you ever showed up there again!”

“No, no!’ cried the Indian, eagerly. “Dat nudder
Injun Joe. Me know him. Him heap bad Injun—
steal, lie, play spy for Sioux on warpath! Me not dat
Injun Joe!”

‘‘Perhaps—perhaps not,’’ muttered the scout, who,

however, had no notion of allowing the poor fellow .
to die the miserable death which had been laid out for

him. ‘

The scout discarded as many of his accoutrements as
he could, got a knife ready for business, and then be-
_ gan crawling out along the rope which was suspended
across the chasm.

It was not such an easy thing to do as it may sound
to hear it told.

But he managed to get over the distance, and in an

almost incredibly brief space of time he was at the
side of the Indian, hanging directly over the middle
of the chasm, with one arm thrown over the rope,
) hugging it tight, leaving the other hand free to work
a with.
_ Now he was so close to the Indian he could make
out tolerably well how he was suspended. He could
see that the redskin’s artns were bound tightly at his
sides and, therefore, it would have been absolutely
impossible for him to have done a thing for himself,
no matter how many knives he might have been pro-
vided with.

The rope across the chasm passed under the Indian’s
arms and was drawn tight across his back, over the
shoulder blades. With his hands freed, it would be as
easy for him to get out of his predicament as for
_ Buffalo Bill himself to return.

And still, to the scout, it was a puzzle how the red-
_ skin could have been placed in such a position against
his own will—and of course he would have resisted
the action if it were possible.

Buffalo Bill first freed the Indian’s hands. Then

TE BURP VO RICE SORTES: 3"

he rubbed his wrists and arms as well as he could
with the one hand which he had at liberty.

This was done to restore the circulation.

“How is your muscle, redskin? Strong enough
to hitch youfself along on the rope?”

The Indian-made a cautious attempt. The thought
that he was to be saved, after all, from the terrible
lingering death to which he had abandoned himself,
spurred him up to make the most energetic use pos- —
sible of all the strength there was left in his body.

But he found it inadequate. When he attempted
to grasp the rope with one hand he nearly lost his hold
altogether.

“Me weak as papoose!” he whined, clinging des-
perately to the rope, with his arms hugged close to his
sides. |

Buffalo Bill got out a flask and let the Indian take
a pull.

That put new life into him, and it was no wonder,
for he was almost famished for the want of food, of
which he had not partaken for several hours even
before being placed in that predicament.

“Tl manage to pull and steady you a little if you'll
go easy,” said the scout.

The latter flung the loop of a lariat which was sus-
pended from his own belt around the body of the red-
skin. Then, still retaining the other: -end).61. the
lariat, the scout made his way back to the side of the
ravine where he had left his horse.

Once more, with a firm footing, he drew firmly at
the lariat, and with the help of the Indian himself the
latter was soon drawn to terra firma.

The swig of liquor put new life into the Indian,
and now that the latter was safe he showed as much
energy as usual.

He cast loose the lariat, shook himself like a fowl
that has been in the water, and then said, in his laconic
way:

“Me hungry now. Give um something eat.”

Buffalo Bill attended to his .horse first, and then
looked for a more sheltered spot near the ravine. The
Indian waited stoically, and not a word was exchanged
until the scout had completed his preparations for a
temporary camp.

The scout was well provided with meat and biscuit,
of which he seldom failed to carry an ample supply
when he was traveling.

That Injun Joe was nearly famished was evident
by the ravenousness with which he partoock of the food

 
 

4 THE BUFFALO

provided by the scout. The latter did not attempt to
urge him to talk until his hunger was satisfied.

Then, before he could put any questions, they were
startled by the clatter of approaching horsemen over
the flinty trail. "

 

CHART UR att
THE MOUNTAIN MYSTERY.

Injun Joe, when he heard the clicking of iron hoofs
on the rocks, turned in a sudden sweep of terror and
would have fled from the spot like a deer. es

But the hand of Buffalo Bill caught him by the arm
and held him back with a grip of iron.

“Stay!” was the terse command from the lips of
the scout.

The Indian stood, but with every muscle and nerve
tense for flight. The scout knew that the fellow would
not tarry a second if the coast were clear.

But at that moment the sounds of the horsemen
ceased as if they had come to a sudden halt.

The spot Buffalo Bill had chosen for his camping
place was one where there was the smallest likelihood
of being intruded upon by any chance passers.

If the horsemen whom. they had heard approaching
were Indians, there was small reason to hope that they
would fail to discover the trail of the scout. An
Indian never pitches a camp, or travels far, without
searching out every track that may be ahead of him,
and ascertaining everything possible concerning the
makers of it. Oe

Buffalo Bill knew that, from the conformation of
the place, the spot where he and Injun Joe at that mo-
ment were waiting was as safe from discovery as any
other, and that there could be no advantage in making
a change.

His rifle was ready as he waited for a further demon-
stration from the horsemen, whom they had heard ap-
proaching.

Injun Joe, with his nerves and courage strangely
shattered by the experience through which he had
just passed, could only stand and shiver with dread.

But it soon appeared that the horsemen were not
_ coming nearer, nor were they simply at a halt to allow
their riders to listen or examine a trail. On the con-
trary, it appeared that they had come to a stop for
the same purpose that Buffalo Bill had done so—in
other words, it was a halt for the night.

The scott’s horse, fortunately, had been left at a

»

 

BILL STORES:

spot where he had not been observed By the strange

667

horsemen. a ‘
The night had come on to be very dark, and while

the two camping places were only a few rods apart,

there was little danger of the strangers discovering |

Buffalo Bill and Injun Joe unless the presence of the |
e "sage
a i

 

66)

two latter was suspected, and a search made for them.
Now there came to the ears of Buffalo Bill and his |
companion the sounds of the horses being led away §

 

from the spot where the strangers had halted. Prob- i Z
ably they were being staked out. 4
Other sounds, indicating the preparations being iv me
made for the night, also came to the ears of Cody ' oe
and his companion. i a
Yet both observed that they could not hear the Bus
voices of the others, although there could be no doubt tea
but that they were exchanging words of some sort. [§ ey
This showed that it would be safe for the scout and i. wr
the Indian to speak, so far as being overheard was f «
concerned, if due caution were observed. ‘ «ey
“We're rather uncomfortably close to-those people | “1
in case they're not friendly,” said“ the scout, in a low Vplair

voice. “But as this is about the spot where I want: #-
to stay during the night I don’t propose to move till a
I have made sure that it is best. op

“You thought it was the crowd that put you.out
there to die coming back, didn’t. you, Joe?”

“Yes, that what me thought,’
ing scarcely above a whisper.

“How many were there of them?”

“Three.”

“White or red?”

“White men.”

“What did they do it for?”

Injun Joe did not immediately reply. Buffalo Bill |
suspected that it might have been but a bluff, after |
all, and.that the men had intended to rescue the red- §
skin from his predicament as soon as their purpose of ae
punishing him sufficiently had been accomplished.

“Me have message they want. Me no give um up.
Me throw down in ravine when they try take away.
That all.” ’

The terse explanation did not make the matter very
clear to the mind of the scout.

“You had a message?” the latter repeated.

EOS.

“Something written?”

nad it.”

“Who gave it to you?”

   
  
  
  
  

said the Indian, speak-
 

THE BUFPALO

'8© | “White man. It for soldiers at fort.”
: “Ah!” muttered the scout, and he became more in-
r Merested. It began to look as if the affair might not
BY J ave been a bluff.
a | “Who was the white man that gave you the mes-
the # ee
a age? he asked. :
ae | “Me not know name. Him wear long whiskers, old
man, heap wrinkle skin, heap talk queer.”
[AY PARSE $
sb Buffalo Bill’s interest became yet more intense.
© “With a long rifle and a queer little horse?’ he
ng I asked.
dy | : “That him. Me try get on horse, him Aa back
this way, Injun Joe tumble off heap quick.” .
' “It was old Nick Wharton!” exclaimed Buffalo Bill.
a | “Yes, that him. Me ’member him say that name.
a

‘Heap queer. scout.”

“He’s queer enough, that’s right. And he gave you

nd | written message to deliver to somebody?”
ras “Yes,”
§ “Do you know what it was?”
ple ; “Me no read paleface see No make pictures
»w Pplain so Injun make ’em out.”

“To whom were you to deliver the message?”
But him say, if me

8

int
‘ill a “Me say to soldiers at fort.
@meet Buffalo Bill me give it him.”
) “Well, you’ve met Buffalo Bill.”

“You him?” questioned the Indian, in evident sur-
prise. And yet the scout had suspected all the while
that Injun Joe had recognized him.

It certainly began to appear that this could not be
(the Injun Joe who had played the part of a sneak
“thief at the fort and at several of the military stations
long the frontier.
7») But the scout was more curious about the import of
Uthe message which Nick Wharton had sent by the
) { ndian than he was about Injun Joe himself.
@ “You say that you threw the message into the ravine
when those men tried to get it away from you?”
} “Yes, me did that.”
“That was better than to let it fall into ee hands,
or the fact that they were so anxious to get hold of
‘ : shows that they thought it might be of some im-
| portance.”

 

      
 

ut

k-

 

 

 

 

: Buffalo Bill made these remarks more to himself
pthan with any-idea of receiving a reply or comment
Mrom the Indian.
. “We ll try for a spot a little farther away from
those people, and then I'll reconnoiter them,’’ said the
Scout, a moment later,

BELL STORIES: 5

He led the way among the rocks and thickets, mov-
ing with the utmost caution, until a fairly comfortable
inclosure was found ata somewhat safer distance from
the camp of the strangers.

“Wait here, Injun Joe,” said Buffalo Bill, then. “TI
will see who and what those men are, and then I’ll re-

-turn to you. Maybe you are having your worry for
nothing about them.”

The Indian shrugged his shoulders and was silent
as the scout left the spot.

In another moment Buffalo Bill had returned to the
first stopping place, whence he proceeded with greater
caution toward the point where the strangers had
halted. .

The spot was easy of approach, and he was able to
keep himself well sheltered until he had approached
close enough to peer in upon the campers.

The latter had kindled a small fire, and were conkine
some fresh meat. By the light of the fire the scout
was able to make them out clearly.

They were white men, and had the appearance of
the ordinary mountain men and miners, such as one
would be likely to meet almost anywhere in that
locality.

They were four in number.

/ There had been only three in the party which had
captured Injun Joe. This did not of itself argue that
the party was not the same. It only indicated that
another member of the party might have been added
after their departure from the ravine.

But there was another reason for believing that this
could not have been the same party which had cap-
tured Injun Joe.

That reason was that they would have been naturally
curious on returning to the vicinity to see how their
victim had fared.

There was no indication of these men taking any
interest in the matter; or, rather, they seemed to know
nothing about it.

The next thing to be ascertained was some hint as
to the character and purposes of these men.

To that end, Buffalo Bill sought to get close enough
to them to overhear what they were talking about.

This he at last succeeded in doing. _

Their consultation was of a desultory character,

‘and for some time it was difficult to make out what
their object in that locality might be. ;

But soon, and gradually, some points came out that

 
 

6

made the matter clearer to the understanding of the
scout.

The shelter for the scout was provided wholly by the
rocks, as there was so little shrubbery. It was of such
an imperfect character that, but for the darkness, he
could not have approached near enough to even hear
the snatches of conversation that came to his ears.

It amounted to this:

They had had among them a girl, apparently as a
sort of captive, who had either strayed, or escaped,
from them just before their arrival at this point.

They had made some search for her, but had not
obtained even a clew to her whereabouts, and, as they
had been in haste to advance as far as possible before
nightfall, they had kept on in this direction, believing
that they would come up with the girl without going
off their course.

While Buffalo Bill was listening to these details, he

was starled at the sight of a singular, wild, bearded »

face that peered out from behind a rock on the opposite
side of the camp, glaring upon the men with an aspect
of singular ferocity.

te

CHAP TER. TT,
IN TUN FOES LEAP.

“That is Manton, the Mountain Mystery.”

These words were uttered by the scout as he saw
the singular face peering in upon the camp of strangers.

The latter were unconscious of the presence of the
two interested observers. Buffalo Bill was thoroughly
shielded from their sight by the bowlder behind which
he was standing. :

Not, so, however, with the one called Manton:

He seemed to have little consideration for caution
It was as if he had started to cross the opening at
the point where the men had pitched their camp, and
had halted merely because he had found his way dis-
puted. ®

It was chance, therefore, that withheld the eyes of
the men from the strange figure looking in upon them.

It gave Buffalo Bill an excellent opportunity to ob-
serve the Mountain Mystery.

Of this individual something needs to be said.

The scout had first heard of his existence a few days-

before the occurrence of the events with which the
incidents of this story have to do.

At the nearest military post, where the scout’ had
tarried for a day, it was told that an eccentric person

 

THE DUPBALO BIDE STORUES:

was roaming the mountain solitudes in the vicinity of
Ralston’s Ravine.

So far -as Buffalo Bill was concerned, the entire
region was an unexplored one.

In plunging into it, he was doing as he had done
many times before in seeking to run down a quarry
—he was undertaking to locate a person, and to fasten
the responsibility for a crime, almost without a clew
to start with.

When he heard of Manton, it was not unnaturally
suggested to him that the Mountain Mystery, as he
was called, might prove to be the one he was search-.
ing for.

Upon reaching the haunts of the mysterious person, —

it had been the luck of the scout to get a glimpse oi

_Manton at the start.

This had been on the other side of the ravine, and
only about twenty-four hours ago. .

From the descriptions that had been given him, he
readily recognized the strange vagabond of the moun-
tains.

These circumstances altogether added a most
dramatic quality to the scene as the scout now looked
upon it. oe

The four mountaineers huddled around the fire, the
flickering light from which fell weirdly upon their
faces, and caused their shadows to dance in outline
against the rocks.

The same red light made the singular face of the
Mountain Mystery appear almost like that of a being
from the world of dreams.

The attire of the vagabond had originally been that
of civilization. But long and rough wear and crude
mendings had reduced his clothes to an appearance ‘of
shreds and patches.

The hair and beard, too, were long and unkempt.

These combined to give him a wild and uncouth ap-_@.

pearance.
The stranger carried no firearms.
In one hand he carried a heavy staff, or club, and a

- strap around his waist served as a belt, through which

was thrust a knife.

The length of time that Manton thus stood, taking
in the details of the camp, was actually very brief.
But it was sufficient to allow Buffalo Bill to make a
more thorough study of the man’s face than he had
been able to do when he had seen him the first time.

The scene of inaction was interrupted in a most
startling manner.

bi

 

 

 

See

 
 

of

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en

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he

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of

X

THE. BUFFALO

With a low exclamation, that sounded almost like a
growl, Manton plunged through the middle of the
camp, thrashing right and left with both hands, one of
which wielded the staff.

While he seemed to take no pains to direct his blows

at the heads of the men, yet every one of the latter

was hit with more or less violence.

With yells of consternation they fairly tumbled over
each other in a mad haste to get out of the way.

There was not a man of them who stayed for an
explanation of the sudden happening.

Yet, as they fled, revolvers were snatched from
their holsters, and there was a rapid popping of the
weapons in a blind attempt to bring down the vaga-
bond.

In this affair the position of Buffalo Bill was a
rather precarious one.

The hasty shots of the men seemed to do no harm
to the one at whom they were directed.

But several of the bullets zipped in uncomfortable
proximity to the face and shoulders of Buffalo Bill.

The scout made haste to dodge behind the bowlder,
which at the moment partially shielded him.

‘ge At the same moment the Mountain Mystery, with-

out waiting to see how much of a clean-up he had
made in his rush through the camp, plunged with head-
long speed so close to Buffalo Bill that the latter had
to spring aside to avoid an actual collision.

Although it was quite dark, the two men were’ so
close to” each othtr that the vagabond could not help
observing the scout.

-He did not come to a halt, but, as he passed, he
reached out one hand and caught hold of the rifle
which was in Cody’s grasp.

The seizure was so sudden, and the momentum of
Manton so violent, that Buffalo Bill was nearly thrown

_ to the ground.

The vagabond was the heavier man of the two.

The scout instinctively gripped the rifle, else it
would have inevitably been snatched/ from his grasp.

As it was, he only retained possession of it by an
almost superhuman outlay of strength.

The struggle was brief, for Manton almost instantly
released his hold when he found that he could not
readily obtain | possession of the weapon.

_ Buffalo Bill would have attempted to detain the
vagabond, had he really had a chance to do so.

But, as a matter of fact, he could have brought

 

BILL STORIES. | 7

Manton to a stop in that headlong flight only in one
way—with a bullet.

This he did not feel justified in doing.

In another moment the Mountain Mystery had dis-
appeared like a shadow among the rocks.

The events of the last few moments had occurred
with such rapidity that Buffalo Bill had no time to
make definite calculations on a next move.

While he had really wished to meet Manton, the
Mountain Mystery, the meeting, when it came, was
not exactly what he had made calculations on.

To have followed up the man under these condi-
tions would have been a good deal like pursuing a
whirlwind.

But there would be ample time for a pursuit.

The manner in which the Mountain Mystery had
fled from the spot would surely leave a trail which it
would be easy to follow.

Before attempting to follow that trail, however, the
scout wished to take some account of the flight of the
camp which Manton had dispersed.

One thing was certain—these men had not the
slightest inclination to pursue the vagabond.

The impetuous manner in which he had swept
through the camp had given them all they had wanted
of him.

_ For some minutes the scout lingered in the vicinity.
He took care to shield himself from observation, as
there was no particular reason why he should invite’
an encounter with the strangers.

In their hasty flight they had left some things in
the inclosure.

He saw them return for these. He heard them chat-
tering together about the startling break-up.

There appeared to be some among them who had
heard some of the tales that were current concerning
the Mountain Mystery.

Some of these yarns were hurriedly narrated, doubt-
less with some embellishments.

As soon~as Buffalo Bill. was certain that the men
had permanently abandoned their camp, he returned
to the spot where he had left Injun Joe.

As he had anticipated, the Indian was gone.

“Probably he got a glimpse of Manton, and heard
the cracking of the pistols, and that was more than
his nerve could stand,” muttered the scout.

“T rather wanted to keep the fellow with me, as |
thought I might have use for him. But one thing I
wanted to get from him, some more information about

 
8 p THE BUREALO

Nick Wharton.
where in this vicinity. I had an idea that he had gone
a hundred miles or so to the south of here. “Just now
I would rather meet him than any other man in the
world.

Buffalo ,Bill made a hasty examination about the
place where he had left Injun Joe, to make sure that
the latter was not hiding among the rocks.

But he found no trace of him.

“Tll get on the track of Manton, and let the In-
dian shift for himself,” said Cody.

He hastened back toward the ravine, following in
the direction which had been taken by the Mountain
Mystery.

As he approached the ravine he heard the sound of
rapidly running footsteps coming in a direction parallel
with his own course.

As has been stated before, the place was almost en-
tirely bare of trees.

Bare rocks, loose bowlders of every size and shape,
with occasional patches of turf and clumps of shrub-
bery, made up the landscape.

The monotony was broken by the ravine, where a
mountain stream had once gouged a pathway. The
river had long since abandoned the track which it had
cut for itself.

Yet there was evidence that the same stream was
at that moment tumbling along a new course not very
far away. Every now and then the faint roar of the
mountain torrent came to the ears of Buffalo Bill. -

Yet, singularly enough, the scout had not yet found
the stream itself.

Cody paused, and, as he did so, he saw the Indian
rush past with headlong speed directly toward the
brink of the ravine.

The next moment a wild cry from Injun Joe rang on

the air. He had either leaped or fallen into the ravine.

CHAPIER* TY:
THE FUGITIVE

For a moment after the mad flight of Injun Joe,
Buffalo Bill was sure that he heard the sound of pur-
‘suing footsteps.

But these abruptly ceased. It served to prove that
there was at least some reason for Injun Joe’s flight.

The scout dashed to the brink of the ravine, which
he must have reached at the very point where the In-

dian had gone over.

I didn’t know the old scout was any- ~

bIUL STORIES:

This was at a considerable distance below the place
where he had first seen Injun Joe suspended.

The ravine at this point was not so deep, nor were
the sides of it so precipitous as they were a half mile
farther up.

Yet, as its bed was probably rocky, it hardly seemed
likely that Injun Joe could have survived the fall.

To satisfy himself on this point, however, Buffalo
Bill made his way, by a short detour, to the bottom of
the ravine.

It was so dark there that it took some time for
him to make a satisfactory search for that which he
expected to find.

Greatly to his surprise no trace of the young Indian,
either dead or alive, was to be found.

The mystery of it made Buffalo Bill reluctant to

abandon the search without result of any kind. Ds,

But he had to do so at last.

Already a good part of the night was spent, and the
scout had accomplished no actual results, nor had he
“gbtained a wink of sleep.

But he was in no mood to take rest now. He wanted
to get on to the track of Manton, and he devoted the

next hour to getting upon the trail of the Mountai~<

Mystery.

In his he succeeded, but found that it led back to the
bottom of the ravine, and along the latter in a south-
westerly course.

With the help of his pocket lantern, he was able
to follow the trail of Manton, and at the same time
he came across other tracks which interested him more
even than did those of the Mountain Mystery.

These tracks were smaller and lighter than the ones
he had been following. They doubled upon them-
selves, having come up the ravine, halted and then re-
turned again.

It looked as if the person who had made them had
started out with the intention of going farther, but had
encountered some signs of danger and turned back.

This was undoubtedly the true explanation as far
as it went.

The tracks were so fresh that it followed that the

person who made them must still be close at hand.

“They are the tracks of a woman,” was the verdict
of Buffalo Bill.

Keeping the light of his lantern on the tracks, he fol-
lowed them at a good pace down the ravine.

He soon came to a point where they paused, or |

 

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seemed to do so, and then turned abruptly toward the

- side of the ravine.

There they became very difficult to trace> The bed
of the ravine, for most of the way, ‘was gravelly and
took the impression of footprints quite distinctly.

‘But here there was a bed of almost solid rock, and,
for a considerable distance, no, unskilled eye could have
detected even the sign of a track.

But the skill of Buffalo Bill could find signs where
none seemed to exist.

So here in the broken fibers of moss, or a few faint
scratches upon the rock itself, the scout discovered
traces that were sufficient to show him the way.

These, to his surprise, followed back up the ravine
again for the distance of several rods.

.. Then he discovered what he had half expected to

find, a dark niche, or passage among the rocks.

This penetrated for a considerable distance into what
was otherwise an unbroken wall of rock.

The scout did not hesitate to penetrate the passage,
but he did so, revolver in hand, prepared for anything
he might meet.

___ Suddenly he heard a sound just ahead of him, and

something struck him with considerable force directly
in the chest.

It was a fragment of rock as large as his hand.

Had there been the strength of a man behind it, the
missile would have certainly thrown him to the earth.

The fact that it did not do so was enough to in-
dicate to his quick intuition that it was a woman and
not a man who had thrown the rock.

The throwing of the rock told him one thing more.

The person into whose hiding place he had pene-
trated possessed no firearm, else it would have been
used instead.

As a consequence, Buffalo Bill did not hesitate as to

. the next move.

Holding the pocket lantern so as to throw the light
ahead of him, he made a quick forward plunge.

At the same time a low, frightened cry, uttered in
a feminine voice, greeted his ears.

He saw an upraised arm with something held in the
hand for a blow. But he caught the wrist and held it
firmly, at the same time flashing the light full into the
face of the unknown fugitive.

As he did so, he regretted the haste of his action, for
the face thus revealed was one marked by youth and
beauty, and just then with an expression of unspeakable
terror.

eirncetanie seca

BILL STORIES, en

The voice of the scout, low and kind, quickly said:

“Have no fears, madam, for I don’t think you'll find
me unfriendly. Maybe you never heard of me, but
I'll chance it by giving you my name. I’m Col. Cody,
a good deal better known as Buffalo Bill.”

A low exclamation of delight came from the lips
of the girl. Then she said, with unexpected frank-
ness :

“You are the one of all others whom I am most
anxious to see.”’

“That’s rather lucky,” said the scout:

The girl still labored under so much agitation that
for a few moments Buffalo Bill refrained from asking
her any questions.

He occupied the time by looking about the small
cave, for such in reality was the place in which the
girl had found refuge.

The narrow passage along which he had advanced
expanded at this point to a width of about twelve feet.

There were numerous indications that the cave had
been used as a place of shelter, probably some time be-
fore the girl had taken possession of it.

There were a few charred sticks to show that a fire
had been kindled there. There were also several
cartridge shells from the cylinder of a revolver.

Under present conditions, at night, the spot was
enshrouded in the blackest darkness.

Even the lantern of the scout but faintly illumined
the place. But, after having sufficiently explored the
spot, the scout set the lantern so that its rays would
fall full upon the girl.

The latter wore a sort of hunting costume with a
short skirt, a tunic trimmed with beads, and leggings
of soft buckskin, and beaded moccasins.

She could have worn nothing that would have been
more becoming.

“Well,’”’ said the scout, “what have you to tell me,
miss?”

“T could make quite a long story of it,’ the girl re-
plied.

“T’d rather you’d make it a short one.”

“You think I gave you rather a warm greeting.”

“Tt would have been a warmer one if you had been
able to sling bullets at me instead of rocks.”

“When I heard you coming I would have given any-
thing if I had had a revolver.”

“T took some chances on account of the smallness of
the tracks.” a

“The size of the tracks wouldn’t have saved you, if
 

LOLs

I could have helped myself. But I’m not giving you
much information. To begin with, my name is Genie
Fairchild.”

“Ah! I have heard the last name before in connec-
tion with something which must have happened some-
where in this locality not very long ago.”

The girl looked at him with sudden eagerness.
laid one hand on his arm and quickly asked:

“Tell me, what is it?”

“About a man being lost at a certain point in a
mountain stream, known as the maelstrom. The man’s
name was Fairchild, if I remember rightly.”

“Yes, yes! that was my father! And I am sure that
he still lives.” ‘

“What makes you think so?”

“Because something that belonged to him, and which
was in his possession at the time he was lost, has been
found since, and sent to the nearest military post.”

“Tell me how that proves anything.”

“That is easy to explain. The article that was found
was a photograph, which I know he carried in his
pocket. It was a picture of myself.”

“I don’t blame him for carrying it, if it was a good
likeness of you,’ smiled the scout.

A faint flush brightened the cheeks of the girl.

“That photograph was found about a week ago at a
spot several miles below the river whirlpool, which is
called the maelstrom.”’

“Who found/it?” »

“It was brought to the fort by a young Indian, who
it seemed gave a rather foggy explanation as to the
exact locality where he had found the picture.”

“How did the facts come to you?”

“Something about the loss of my father was known
at the fort. We were both guests there a short time
before he went away. As soon as the Indian brought
the picture to the fort the fact was communicated to
Then I went there directly, and the picture was

She

me.
given to me.”

“Have you the picture with you now?”

RS. 3

“T would like to see it.”

She handed him the photograph, which was wrapped
up in a piece of oiled silk. The scout took the photo-

graph out of its wrapper, and, after a glance at it, said:
“This has been in the water long enough so that even
the oiled silk did not fully protect it.”
“T had noticed that it was discolored by water. That
seemed to indicate, at least, that my father had fallen

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

 

into the stream. But it did not account for the picture
being found at a place so far distant from the spot
where he was supposed to have been lost.”

“T don’t like to dash any of your hopes, but has it
occurred to you, Miss Fairchild, that your father’s

body might have drifted down the stream and then §

been washed ashore? ‘Then, if the picture had fallen
out of his pocket, that might have been cast up like
any other drift and found by the Indian who took it
to the fort. Or your father’s body might have been
found, in which case nothing would have been more
likely than that the Indian would go through his
pockets. In that case the redskin would have been
likely to give a rather foggy explanation of the mat-
ter.”

“That is true, and I had thought of it.”

“Then why were you so confident that your father
still lives ?” 3

“Did you notice that my name was twice written
across the back of the photograph, and with the same
hand?” |

The scout still held the picture, and now he ex-
amined it more closely by the light of the lantern.

As the girl had said, her name was written twice
across the back of the card, first with ink, and under-
neath with a lead pencil.

The writing in ink showed plainly that it had been
in the water since it was done.

But the pencil writing had been most unmistakably
written since it had received the wetting.

“Yes, yes!” exclaimed the scout. “Now I see what
you mean. If the’second writing was indeed done by
your father, then it had to be done after the photo-
graph had been dried, and subsequent to the accident. ff
It certainly looks like a proof that your father still §
lives.” . 4

“Tt isa proof! Nothing could be more certain. He
wrote my name the second time as well as the first, for
I would know his writing anywhere.”

“Was the Indian, who found the picture, known at

the fort?”

Vas °’
“What was his name?”
“He was known as Injun Joe!”

An impatient ejaculation escaped the lips of the
scout.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

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THE BUFFALO

CHAP TTR ov.

BEGINNING THE SEARCH.

The young redskin called Injun Joe seemed fated to
bring all kinds of annoyance.

The fellow appeared to have plenty of ill luck of his
own. He was one of the sort who seemed to be born
to trouble.

Could the scout have known of this case a few hours
earlier there was no telling how many important facts

he might have obtained by questioning the Indian.

Probably Injun Joe would have lied with every
breath he drew. But Buffalo Bill had a knack of coax-
ing the truth in a case like that at the point of a re“

~ volver,

# or a fall into the ravine.

Se Sees 3

 

Ne ee ga

But there seemed to be no use in bewailing the lost
opportunity. Injun Joe seemed to have taken a leap
: Whether he were dead or
alive, he had disappeared as completely as if the earth
had swallowed him up. ;

And yet at this time it seemed almost imperative

_ that the Indian’s testimony be obtained.

Buffalo Bill told Genie Fairchild briefly of how he

» had chanced upon Injun Joe, and of the rather mixed

lot of events which had filled the hours of the night.
It now occurred to Buffalo Bill that the predicament

in which he had found Injun Joe might likewise have
' been connected with the mystery of the disappearance

of Genie Fairchild’s father.
Since it was evident that the Indian had a crooked

tongue there was a good-sized probability of his hav-

ing told a crooked yarn all the way through.
So it was more than likely that the scout actually

| knew nothing about the cause behind the Indian’s diffi-

culty.

There was one part of the Indian’s story, however,
which must have had a grain of truth in it.

This was the statement that he had seen old Nick
Wharton. This much could hardly have been made out
of whole cloth.

As to the old scout’s having given Injun Joe a mes-
sage to deliver at the military post there was less cer-
tainty.

“Do you mean to say, Miss Fairchild, that you
started out alone in this region to solve the mystery of
your father’s disappearance ?”

“There was no one else to do it.”

“Wasn’t there anyone at the post who would help
you?”

“No. None of them would believe that my father

oe

Bilt StORIES ‘ II

was alive. The proof which I have shown you, they
would make nothing of. While they pretended to
show considerable sympathy for me, they appeared to
treat my idea of the matter as absurd.”

“I suppose that would be quite natural. The dull
routine of military life at a military post doesn’t leave
much room for ideas of the romantic kind. If they
hadn’t pitied you they would have laughed at you. For
that matter, it may all turn out to be as they believed.
But there is enough in it so that I am going to help
you to prove the matter in one way or the other.”

“Thank you—thank you!” exclaimed the girl,
eagerly.

Some explanation concerning the river, which seemed
to terminate in what was called the maelstrom, should
be given here.

A great many wild tales were told of it by men of
the mountains and mines. : |

Probably a large share of these stories were untrue.

Men who lead lives fraught with danger are prone to
credit tales founded on superstition, and to add to them
from their own imagination when relating them to
others.

This much was certain: a wild mountain stream, in
its descent through a rugged region, emptied into a
narrow, natural basin, shut in on all sides by precipitous
walls of rock.

This basin was not more than two hundred feet in
diameter, and almost circular in form. ‘The stream
plunged into it, roaring over rocks and filling the air
with spray.

Within the basin the water swirled like a monstrous
whirlpool that moved with greater velocity toward its
center.

Pieces of driftwood and other objects brought down
upon the current were caught in the swirling tide and
drawn with irresistible force toward the center.

Here they would be sucked down in the whirlpool.

What became of the water after it left the basin
no one seemed to know.

That the stream might reappear again at some point
farther down the mountainside was the most plausible
explanation.

But that such was the case no one seemed to know
for a certainty. )

That it was related that men had fallen into the
whirlpool and been swallowed up by the relentless cur-
rent was but natural. :

In such stories there was probably some truth. *

 
 

Te

a

When it was related that a daring mountain man, in
company with an Indian guide, had braved the perils
of the mountain torrent in a canoe, which had taken its
final plunge into the maelstrom, it might have been
true.

It was probable, also, that the canoe with its occu-

pants had been sucked into the whirlpool and lost.
_- But when it came to be related that a phantom canoe
with ghostly occupants might be seen nightly taking its
mad plunge into the whirlpool in the center of the
basin, there was probably a large element of imagina-
tion in the yarn.

It was also related that a miner, crazed by the loss
of gold which he had toiled hard to find, had thrown
himself into the maelstrom as a suicide.

Whether this were true or not does not so much
matter. The essential part of it was, that anyone who
might by chance or design be cast into the swirling
waters of the whirlpool, must almost certainly be
sucked down to his death.

As.to the manner in which Mr. Fairchild was sup-
posed to have fallen into the whirlpool, there were. con-
tradictory stories.

All that was certain was that he had gone to the
locality with a companion on a prospecting trip for
gold.

Other prospectors had met the pair near the canyon
through which the mountain torrent plunged on its
way to the basin.

The other gold hunters stated that Fairchild and his
companion were rigging up a boat with the intention
of drifting down the stream to a point where they be-
lieved gold would be found.

It appeared to be merely one of those hazardous ven-
tures which men are ever making in the hope of sud-
den gain. :

Whether the statements brought back by the wan-
dering’ mountaineers were true or not, nothing more
had ever been heard of either Fairchild or his com-
panion.

It was easy to believe, therefore, that the two men
had ventured with their frail craft to brave death on
the bosom of the mountain torrent. And, if they had
done so, they had in all probability been swept down
into the maelstrom.

And now the finding of the photograph of Genie
Fairchild, which was in her father’s pocket, added
alinost certain proof as to what had occurred.

THE BUPFALO BILL STORIES.

‘tinued snapping his revolver in the hope of inducing

 

Buffalo Bill discussed the matter with the girl in
all its bearings.

The girl explained to him how ie happened that she
had taken refuge in this spot.

While on her lonely way in the direction of the mael-
strom, which she expected to find by means of the
chart, she had encountered a small party of rough
mountain men who would not allow her to go on.

They showed her no special rudeness, but pretended
that they did not think it safe for her to wander alone
in that wild region.

As a matter of fact, however, she had more cause to
fear them than any other dangers that she might en-
counter. |

Consequently, upon the first opportunity, she sought
to escape.

When they’ had taken her prisoner, they had de- |
prived her of the weapons which she had taken for her
own protection.

Therefore, when she at last succeeded in giving them
the slip, it was necessarily in a most defenseless condi-
tion.

It was only a few hours since she had made her
escape from them.

The captors of Genie Fairchild had been traveling up '
the ravine at the moment when she made her escape.

It was just when the first shades of evening were
falling on the upper heights and in the small moun-
tain parks, that the girl made her bold break for liberty.

But in the ravine it was already dark at the time.
The girl had plenty of nerve, and was fearless of every
danger, save from her captors.

It was by inere chance that she came upon the tocky
passage that branched out from the ravine.

In the last glimpse they had of her, she was running
with the fleetness of a fawn straight up the ravine.

The men had all shouted to her to stop, and one of §f
them fired his revolver in the air to frighten her into We
obedience.

Then he had started full-tilt in pursuit.

 

 

cera

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He had con- .

 

her to surrender without further trouble.

But the girl had not the slightest notion of giving
up.

And when she had found that she had chanced upon
such ‘a good hiding place, she quickly regained con-
fidence in her ability to keep out of the way of her late
captors.

Fortune favored her. There was none in the party

 
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THE BUFFALO

skilled enough in trailing to track the girl over the
rocks.

When their pursuit up the ravine for fully a mile met
with no result, and they realized that there was not
even the trace of a track, they abandoned the pursuit
altogether.

Yet the position of the young girl was not to be
envied. She had no weapons for defense, nor for
shooting game for food.

The supply of dried meat and biscuit, which she had
brought along, were taken from her. When Buffalo
Bill came upon her, therefore, she had begun to regard

_ her situation as desperate.

Yet, as has been shown, she was by no means pre-
pared to surrender to her former captors merely to

escape the possibility of hunger.

Having made her needs known to Buffalo Bill, the
latter lost no time in supplying her from the store of
food which he carried.

By the time that day had fairly dawned both were
ready to start on their way toward the maelstrom, in
quest of a clew to the fate of Mr. Fairchild.

Fortunately, the small chart “which Genie carried

:, p~~ had not been taken from her by her captors.

An examination of it was sufficient to the scout’s
experienced eyes.

It did not take him long to find his way about, even
in a wild locality which was wholly new to him.

According to the meager directions on the chart, the
distance to the point which they wished to reach was
not great.

As they pursued their journey together, Buffalo Bill
spoke to his companion of Manton, the Mountain
Mystery. ? ne

Almost at the moment he did so he came upon a
fresh trail which he was sure he recognized.

“Those are the tracks of Manton himself!” he ex-
claimed:

CHAPTER VI.
OLD NICK AND INJUN JOE.

On the morning following the events which have
filled the preceding chapters, a comical-looking horse-
man was jogging his way along a sort of natural path-
way that ran parallel with the ravine.

The man was old and scraggy, which description
will likewise serve for the horse.

The latter limped badly, and the animal was so thin

BILL STORIES. 13

of flesh that it seemed a wonder that she could go at
all.

Yet once, when they were at a smooth stretch of
the trail, the rider gave the beast a peculiar kick with
his heel, and for a short distance she shot ahead like
an arrow from the bow.

When she was making her spurt of speed, the little
mare showed. not the slightest signs of lameness.

Thus it appeared to be rather more than likely that
she understood a few tricks.

The rider was no other than old Nick Wharton, and,
of course, the horse was his Diana.

Old Nick did not allow the little mare to display her
mettle for a great distance. He was not particular
about having her reputation for speed become too well
known.

Another touch with his heels was sufficient to bring
her almost to a standstill. A moment later he be-
came aware of the approach of other horsemen.

A backward glance showed him four mounted men
coming down the trail at a lively clip.

The old scout recognized none of them. He saw
that they were rather roughly clad, and that their
horses showed marks of hard usage.

It was, in reality, the same party that had been the
captors of Genie Fairchild.

The leader of the gang was known as Brant Clayton.

For some years he had been a sort of freelance of ©
the mountains.

While not rated exactly as a desperado, yet he stood
ill in all of the mountain camps.

His companions were men after his own sort. While
none of them had a record that was really very black,
neither was there one among them who had received a
very warm welcome at any of the mining camps in that.
region.

Just. what object Brant Clayton and his gang might
have in riding about the country, was a matter known
only to themselves. e

Yet it was not reasonable to suppose that they did
not have a definite object of some kind.

When they first perceived Nick Wharton and his
little mare jogging along ahead of them, Brant Clay-
ton ordered his companions to slow down a bit until
he could size up the stranger.

“There’s a queer-looking outfit, boys!” he exclaimed.

“A shaggy old pilgrim, and the worst-looking scrub
in-the shape of a horse that ever went on three legs,”
chipped in one of his companions.

 
 

14 THE BUFFALO

’

“Ts it the first time you ever saw that outfit, Dave?”
asked another member of the party.

“T never saw anything that looked like it, except
when there was something wrong in my head. Do you
know who it is?”

“Tt is old Nick Wharton and his trick mare.”

“Tt looks as if it might be old Nick, all right,”
the one called Dave.

“Call that a trick animal?” growled Clayton. “Looks
to me more like a nightmare than anything else. But
what do you know about them, Clem?”

“T never had a very long acquaintance with them.
I happened to be in the same camp with them once,
and I tried to fool with the mare a little. The durn
beast struck me in the chest with one of her forefeet,
and I reckoned for a spell that I’d never have my wind
back again. The old man says that the mare will kick
frontwards, as he calls it, just as well as she will with
her heels.”

“Will she bite?’ asked Dave.

“T reckon she would have chawed the meat all off of
me if I had tried to flirt around with her a great
while.”

“How about the old man?”

“T didn’t have much of a chance to make him out.
But there were some others in the camp that had heard
of him, and they told me that he was more tricky than
the mare. The most I saw of him was while he was
telling the biggest kind of a yarn that ever a profes-
sional liar tried to make up.”

“What was the yarn about ?”

‘“Durned if I can remember much about it. There
was something about a cyclone turning a mule inside
out, and then the wind changing kind of sudden, and
chucking the critter back again into shape. There was
a lot more to the string that I couldn’t begin to tell.”

“Go ahead, boys!” ordered Clayton.

They put spur to their jaded horses and thundered
down the trail in determined pursuit of Nick Wharton.

said

With all that they had heard concerning the old
man, there was nothing to indicate that he was more
than harmlessly eccentric.

They might be a little shy of trying to fool with the
mare, but it did not seem to be possible that there could
be any danger in doing as they pleased with a man
who seemed to be so old and decrepit that he could
hardly sit in the saddle. *

Of course, old Nick saw and heard them long be-
fore they came up with him.

BILL STORIES.

Yet he gave no sign of having done so.

The first indication that he gave of being conscious
of their nearness was when they came clattering up
alongside of him. :

Then Diana, the mare, halted abruptly, bracing her
forefeet as if she had made up her mind not to make
another forward step.

At the same time old Nick raised his head, and
glanced from one to another of the horsemen with a
bland smile.

“Waal, boys!’ he exclaimed.

Clayton and his men pulled up directly across the
trail, and all four looked at Nick Wharton with grim
expressions of countenance.

“You'll have to get off that hoss, old man!” was the
order from Clayton.

“Just what I reckoned I’d have to do, by mighty!”

exclaimed Nick.
Yet he made no move toward obeying the order.
He sat motionless, astride: of the little mare, his legs

so long that his feet nearly touched the ground on

either side.

“Get off, then!” insisted Clayton. ©

“Really, mister, you seem to be in a tarnal fret its

The men looked at each other and then at their
leader. Could it be that the old man did not realize
that there might be danger in thus defying a moun-
tain bully of the stamp of Brant Clayton?’

Whether Nick Wharton knew what he was about or
not, Brant was in no mood to accept any bluffs.

“The past night had not gone well with him. Their -

girl prisoner had escaped from them, and in their
attempts to find her again they had failed.

Then, to add to the irritation of Brant Clayton, he

had no more than fairly gone into camp with his com-
panions than Manton, the Mountain Mystery, had
plunged in among them, thrashing them right and left
and scaring them out of a year’s growth. ®

Men of the stamp of the companions of Brant Clay-
ton are the easiest sort of any to get rattled in the face
of any uncanny occurrence. *

So, after they had been dispersed from their camp,
and all had remounted their horses, it took an hour
of hard riding before they could be induced to come
to a halt.

Then they had partaken of a hurried breakfast, al-
lowed their horses scant time to feed and rest, then
mounted again and set out.

To overcome their fright.and take up their time

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ss

 
 

/ Nick Wharton.

THE BUFFALO

which had intervened before daylight, after the sudden
breaking up of their camp, Clayton had ordered them
to ride to the north.

Yet this direction was exactly opposite to that in
which they had wished to go.

It all amounted to a loss of time, and a useless waste
of horseflesh. |

After the brief halt they had started again in a
southerly direction, compelled to follow almost the
same trail over which they had just traveled.

To them the encounter with Nick Wharton was an
agreeable diversion rather than otherwise.

It seemed to promise them something in the way
of sport, and a general bracing up of their nerves.
Clayton abruptly wheeled his horse up to the side of
Without further ado the big rufhan
reached over and caught the scout by the shoulder.

At the same time he gave a quick, strong pull, never
doubting but that he might easily Jee the old man out
of his saddle.

It was then that the unexpected happened.

In the first place, old Nick seemed to have more stiff-
ness in his backbone than Clayton had dreamed of.
The old fellow did not budge by a hair’sbreadth.

But it-was not merely a matter of sitting still on the
part of the old scout. For, by a sudden movement, one
of his own long arms reached out and locked itself with
that ef the ruffian.

At the same time Nick slyly kicked the flanks of
the little mare, a signal which was well-understood by

‘the animal.

Diana responded to the hint with a vengeance.

She leaped forward as if she had been shot out of
a gun, and Brant Clayton was sent sprawling on the
rocks.

There was-a yell from the ruffian, and a chorus of
shouts from his companions.

The one called Clem, who was the biggest and nervi-
est_of the three, spurred his own horse after that of
the scout, and would have run in so as to have cut off
the flight of the latter.

This was where Diana’s part in the program came in.
Obedient as she was to every signal from her master,
she wheeled suddenly and snapped her vicious heels
right in the face of Clem’s larger horse.

This made the big animal for the moment uncon-
trollable, and the rider had all the troubles he could

“attend to.

BILL STORIES. | 1s

Nick Wharton did not tarry to work the crowd into
any more of a mix-up.

The two who had not been molested were betaking
themselves to a safe distance in the fear that the
vicious. little brute might next be turned loose upon
them.

They had seen enough of her ability in the line of
tricks, and at the same time they realized that the old
man was not so defenseless as he appeared.

Old Nick Wharton, laughing silently, recognized the
fact that it was a good time for him to wind up the
picnic by getting out of it.

Another one of his gentle hints to Diana caused the
latter to dart away over the trail with the impetuous
speed of a race horse.

By this time Brant Clayton had regained his feet.

When he had been thrown from his saddle his rifle
had fallen to the ground.

He now snatched up the weapon and fired a shot
after the retreating form of the old scout.

It was a vicious thing to do. It was merely from
an impulse to revenge, because he had not been allowed
to succeed in the trick which he hintself had attempted
to play.

But the shot did not find the mark. It was a good
deal like shooting at a bird on the wing. Nick Whar-
ton did not even hear the whistle of the bullet.

In a brief space of time, old Nick had left his
would-be tormentors out of sight and hearing.

But for some minutes he did not slacken the pace of
the little mare.

It was a smooth down-grade, just right for keeping
up the speed. “Aad so he covered mile after mile of
distance. ;

At length he came to a point where a sloping path-
way led down to the bottom of the ravine.

Here he slackened the pace of the mare, descending
the path, which was rather steep, until the bed of the
ravine was reached.

Here, as he would have proceeded at a moderate pace
along the ravine, his attention was attracted by a low
call from the midst of the thicket which he was just
passing. 3

The mare was pulled to a halt and the old scout dis-
mounted. A few of his long strides carried him to
the thicket, and there he found a young Indian lying
huddled among the shadows.

It was no other than Injun Joe.

~The face of the young redskin was scratched and —

 
 

;

16 THE BUPRALO

smeared with blood, and his body was covered with
bruises. Nor was this the worst, for he had a broken
arm.

“Injun Joe, by mighty!’ exclaimed the old scout.

CHAPTER VU.
THE MOUNTAIN TORRENT.

Could Buffalo Bill and Genie Fairchild have known
this, when they started out.to solve the mystery of
the missing prospector, they might have been saved
a great deal of trouble.

But it was one of the things that a combination of
circumstances was bound to hide from them for the
time.

That Injun Joe could have survived the leap into the
ravine, which he seemed to have taken so recklessly,
to Buffalo Bill did not seem to be possible.

Consequently the scout“and his girl companion made
their way back, first to the place where Cody had left
his horse.

Buffalo Bill insisted that Genie should mount the
animal, for she was considerably worn with her experi-
ence of the last twenty-four hours.

The way which they would have to go was so steep
and rugged in many places that it was impossible to
move with any great speed. A man could get along
quite as fast on,foot as with a horse.

Buffalo Bill found the way quite carefully outlined
on the chart which the girl had given him.

The way was so rough and wearisome that they had
to make frequent halts, and several times they had to
retrace their steps for some distance, because they
found themselves confronted by impassable barriers.

At the end of three hours Buffalo Bill came to a halt
and exclaimed :

: coerte

The girl listened.

“Yes, I hear a roaring sound,” she said.

“I reckon we’re getting clgse to the river, and some-
where near the maelstrom.
now, the better.”

“Yes, yes—let us not lose a moment of time.”

“And yet you must remember, Miss Fairchild, that
finding the whirlpool itself, and getting a look into it
does not really furnish us with a clew to the fate of
your father, such as we require.”

“T know it. But if we get to the stream, I shall feel

The quicker we get to it

 

Biel) STORIES:

that your sagacity and reason will show us the way
to the final outlet of the stream. As you have said,
after it leaves the whirlpool it must be that the water
follows an underground course, reappearing at some
point which does not show on the maps.”

“You mustn’t have too much faith in me as an ex-

plorer. Others have- gone over the same ground be-
fore me, and I know of no reason why they should not
have found the course of the stream, if it were discov-
erable by ordinary means.”’ !

“T am sure that you will do your best, and because
the way has not yet been found does not argue that
you cannot discover it.”

After another brief resting spell at the base of a
steep slope, they resumed their course, pressing for-
ward more rapidly than they had done before.

Every moment as they advanced the roar from the
rapids became louder in their ears. :

In a short time it became so loud that they could
not make each other heard when speaking in an or-
dinary tone. :

The air seemed to fairly quiver with the din of the
roaring torrent.

Yet the way became more and more rugged, jagged .

rocks and bowlders being heaped or scattered on every

side, until at last Buffalo Bill said:
“We shall have to give up the horse.

think we have much farther to go in this direction.”
They found a small patch of grass, and a bubbling,

spring of water which would serve as refreshment for

the horse.

There was no danger of the animal’s wandering
from the spot as long as there was a mouthful of herb-
age to be cropped.

The pair then pressed on toward the sounds, being
obliged to clamber over the rocks, with:the greatest
difficulty, for some distance.

At last they came out upon a small level plateau.

The width of the level space was less than one hun-
dred feet. On the other side of it there was a steep
declivity, and beyond this roared the torrent.

From where they stood when they reached the pla-
teau, they could see the flying spray from the rapids,

and now and then tongues of water which leaped

upward.

The girl fairly ran across the level stretch, but was
brought to a halt by the warning call of the scout.

Buffalo Bill overtook her, saying as he did so:

“You will be running your head into danger. You

 

But I don’t 2

 

 

 

 

oi (one

pe CU
 

  
 

 

 

 

 

THE BUFFALO

don’t know whether this surface of rock ahead of us
is sound or not. There is no telling but it may be
undermined by the water, and what may seem to be
solid and immovable, in reality may be but a brittle and
hollow shell.”’ :

“How are we to approach it, then?” the girl asked.

“Tl do the approaching to start with.”

“That simply means that you’ll take all the risk.”
: The girl was now facing Buffalo Bill, and she was
| looking earnestly into his face. She realized as she
? had not done before that this man stood ready and
i willing to take upon himself all of the hardship and
‘ : danger incident to the expedition which at the military
‘post had been considered the merest act of folly.
“Why should you do this for me, Buffalo Bill?’
said the girl. ;
e. “Why should I do it for anybody? I suppose it isn’t
. in me to let an affair like this go by without throw-
| ing myself into it.”

  
 

“IT know I have no other friend who would do ‘it
for me.. And what am | in reality but a stranger to
“you?”

“T never reckon those matters according to the length
Of time that I have known a person who wants the
#) help. If I happen to see a man drowning in water,

® 1 wouldn’t wait for a regular introduction to him be-

Y fore I started to fish him out.”

| Buffalo Bill was: smiling as he said this, and that
seemed to banish the momentary embarrassment which
had assailed. the girl.

“Now wait here a moment,” said Cody, “and I'll go
ahead and spy out the land. I reckon if I can get out
to the edge of the plateau there, I shall be able to
see as far as the maelstrom. This must be at the most
rapid part of the stream’s descent, to judge by the
noise which it makes.”’

_ “So you will take the risk which you refuse to allow
me?’

“I would have to go, anyway, and may be it won’t
be necessary for you. Just keep quiet and wait for me.
If it is safe for you and there is anything worth while
for you to see, I'll have you come along.”

Without waiting to argue the matter further, Buffalo
Bill advanced at a somewhat cautious pace toward the
edge of the level rocks.

It was not without reason that he suspected that a
portion of the rocky surface might be undermined by
the stream.

BILL, SLVORIES. ry

It seemed as if a portion of the waters rumbled al-
most under_his feet.

There was a perceptible jar of the rock, and alto-
gether it gave Buffalo Bill the impression that the sur-
face was but a mere shell, at least, for a portion of
the way.

He soon reached a point from which he could see
the downward-rushing current clear to the point where
it made its final leap into the rock-bound basin which
has before been described.

Buffalo Bill noticed near at hand a fragment of rock
which may have weighed twenty-five or thirty pounds.

He picked up this fragment and flung it up and out-
ward so that it struck about halfway betwixt the place
where he was standing and the edge of the plateau.

His intention had been to see if the contact of the
rock with the surface would give out a hollow sound.

The result was much more than he had expected.

There was a thunderous crash, a violent jar of the
surface as if it had been shaken by an earthquake, and
a portion of the level surface several feet in extent
dropped from sight, falling with a crash and a roar
into the hollow space that extended underneath.

The portion of rock which was broken away ex-
tended to within a foot of the very spot where Buf-
falo Bill was standing.

If he had taken a single forward step before casting
the rock, nothing could have saved him from being
precipitated into the abyss.

A low cry of horror broke from the lips of Genie
Fairchild.

She sprang forward and caught the arm of her com-
panion.

As he looked down upon her it could be seen that his
face was a shade paler than usual.

“That was rather a close call!’ he said, in a low
voice.

“Let us get away from here as soon as we can,” re-
turned the girl.

“The worst of the danger is now over. Now I
can make out the course of the stream, and I know to
just what extent, the rock is undermined. A little
further investigation will show to me all that I can dis-
cover from this point. J wish, at least, to satisfy my
curiosity, now that I have gone so far.”

All the principal portion.of the rock surface, which
had been undermined by the torrent, had already caved
in, so that now Buffalo Bill did not hesitate to approach

 
 

18 THE BUPRALO

-much closer to the torrent than he had dared in the
first place.

From the new position which he now gained, he for
the first time was able to see as far as the whirlpool.

The more tumultuous torrent rushed downward over
‘ the rocks for a considerable distance in a course almost
exactly parallel with the plateau.

But for a short distance just opposite to the place
where Buffalo Bill now stood, the stream seemed to be
gliding down a straight, smooth incline.

At the end of this it made a final leap into the cir-
cular basin.

This could not be quite perfectly observed from
where Buffalo Bill was stationed, and he sought to
gain a better point for an outlook.

This was a somewhat difficult and not altogether safe
undertaking.

Genie Fairchild, observing his purpose, could not
restrain her expression of anxiety as she saw him
picking his way along the ragged brink toward the
point of greatest danger.

He moved with the greatest care. In some places
he had to crawl on hands and knees over rocks that
were slippery with spray.

But he at last gained the position which he sought.

He found himself upon a narrow, jutting shelf of
rock almost directly over the swirling current which
made for the whirlpool.

At the very instant that he reached this position, he
observed the large branch of a tree as it shot down
the steep incline of water and plunged madly into the
swirl of the basin.

Buffalo Bill watched the course of the treetop with
a sort of fascination as it was drawn nearer and nearer
to the center of the whirlpool.

It approached the maelstrom with incredible swift-
ness.

In another moment it had reached the center,
for a moment it seemed to poise itself almost motion-
less.

where

Then with a peculiar sucking sound, which sounded
distinctly above the roar of the more distant rapids,
the heavy, sprawling branch seemed to drop from sight
all at once.

“And that is the way that poor Fairchild must have
been drawn to his death!’ muttered Buffalo Bill,
with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

“And, after seeing that, how can I help believing
that the man did go to his death? It really looks as if

¥

BILL STORES

the hopes of the girl have not the shadow of a founda-
tion. I almost wish that she could have seen the fate
of that stick of timber. Certainty as to what must
really be so is far better for anyone than a ground-
less hope.”

For some time Buffalo Bill observed the singular
phenomenon. In a general way, the appearance of the
maelstrom fulfilled all his expectations concerning it.

His most careful observations failed to discover any
sign of an outlet from the basin, except that through
which the water was sucked. :

One thing was certain—no man could be cast into
that current and escape being sucked into the whirl-
pool.

Even if the force of the current were not so irresist-

ible, the walls of the basin were so smooth and steep,

that no one could have climbed out.

Had it been but a still pool of water, a man thrown
into it could have but struggled vainly until obliged
to sink from exhaustion like a rat in a pail of water.

As Buffalo Bill was about to return to his companion
he heard a slight sound in his rear.

Turning, he beheld the tall form of Manton, Ge

lela eae Mystery, advancing toward him.

CHAPTER: Vail.
THRE Si RU EC UE.

It will be remembered that at the close of chapter
five, mention was made of the discovery of tracks
which Buffalo Bill believed were made by Manton.

‘As these tracks did not lead in the direction that
the scout and his companion wished to pursue, he did
not at the time take the trouble to trace them further.

But the discovery of the Mountain Mystery ap-

proaching him along the brink of the maelstrom, re- -

called to the mind of Buffalo Bill his discovery of
the tracks.

It need not be denied that Buffalo Bill was smitten
by a thrill of apprehension when he beheld Manton
coming toward him.

Whether the mysterious vagabond was friendly or
otherwise, the scout had no means of knowing. But
from the little experience he had had with him, the
singular man seemed to be too erratic to be trusted.

Buffalo Bill had left his rifle with Genie Fairchild, |

as he did not wish to be encumbered with it while
scrambling over the rocks.

 

 

awe

 
   
    
 

i
:

| But he had revolvers and a knife upon his person.
Hf it were a mere matter of shooting, it would seem
to be an easy matter for him to dispose of the vaga-
bond, in case the latter should make a hostile demon-
stration.
. Of course, there were plenty of indications that
| Manton was not in his right mind.

| This did not necessarily make him any the less dan-
Igerous, although it made Buffalo Bill uncertain as to
whether he was justified in shooting the man before
he latter made any show of actual hostility.

_ That he might be prepared, Buffalo Bill drew a re-
olver, and called out sharply the single word:
Halt!’

' Even as the command was uttered, it was complied
with. Indeed, the obedience was so prompt that it
eemed to be possible that the man would have halted
nist the same, even if he had not been ordered to

 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  

 

    
   
 
 
   
    
  
 

Q So.
) Buffalo Bill and Manton, the Mountain Mystery,
“were separated from each other by ee, a dozen feet
f£ space.

The strange man had approached to the very brink
f’the maelstrom, and at the moment stood perched on
he narrow .vinnacle of rock, where a single misstep
would have plunged him into the abyss.

Manton raised one hand with a warning gesture and
-exclaimed in a hoarse voice:
“Away from here, man—away from here!’

“That’s pretty good advice for both of us to take, I
reckon,” said Buffalo Bill, with a faint smile.
| “You have no right here—go away !” repeated the
| man.

 

ei

| “If you have a claim on this part of creation, Man-
| ton, I don’t think I am disposed to dispute it with
My you. It’s a rather ragged old hole at best, and a
ty mighty good one to keep out of.” ~
| Now that Manton, the Mountain Mystery, did not
"B® seem inclined to assume the offensive against Buffalo
A : Bill, the latter decided that it were better to retreat to
| a somewhat safer position before carrying the inter-
/ view any further.
_ He could not do this, however, without turning his
_ back squarely on the Mountain Mystery.
| Trusting to his own hearing to warn him of any
movement on the part of the other, the scout turned
_ and began to scramble back over the rugg ged way to the
g Plateau.

© THE BUPRALO BILL STORIES

' .
esuction.

1

He had proceeded but a short distance before he
heard a slight sound in his rear.

He wheeled with lightning quickness, and, as he did
so, he saw the form of Manton in the act of springing
out over the abyss.

The sight froze the speech of the scout into silence.
Had it been to save his own life, he could not have
uttered an outcry at the moment.

But for that matter it would have been of no use
then to have uttered a warning.

The action of the mountain vagabond was no acci-
dent. It was an act of deliberate design, as if it were
in fulfillment of a mania for suicide.

Out leaped the man’s form, and then down his body
shot straight toward the water.

Buffalo Bill turned back, and, in an instant, had re-
gained his former position.

He was inclined to see the form of Manton as it
plunged into the current.

The strange man had maintained the perpendicular
throughout his descent, and he struck the water feet
first. He instantly disappeared beneath the surface.

Buffalo Bill crouched on the shelf of rock and glared
down at the swirling water, his eyes eagerly looking
for the reappearance of the body of the vagabond.

He had to wait so long that he had about made up
his mind that the form of the strange man would. be
sucked down without coming to the surface at all.

But just as he had despaired of seeing him again, he
saw the form of the vagabond drifting with the cur-
rent.

He was still several yards distant from the center
of the whirlpool.

Like the tree branch which had gone down a little
while before, the man’s body moved with ever increas-
ing velocity toward the point of suction, With a yet
deeper fascination, the scout watched the approach to
the point of certain doom.

It did not look as if Manton were making any re-
sistance to the current. His only movements were
such as would be required to keep his head from be-
coming submerged.

The center was reached.

There, like the fragment from the tree, the body of
the man was poised for an instant at the very point of
Then again, like the inanimate object which
had preceded it, the body dropped from sight.

Buffalo Bill drew a long breath, which was almost
like an expression of relief.

 
20 THE BUFFALO

It was not the first time that he had seen a man go
deliberately to his death. But never before hadhe seen
one meet his fate in just this manner.

The position of Genie Fairchild during the enac-
tion of this singular tragedy was such that the inter-
vening rocks cut off all view of it from her eyes.

Now that there seemed to be nothing more to observe
in the basin, Buffalo Bill returned as quickly as pos-
sible to his companion.

First, he briefly described to her the appearance of
the maelstrom. Then he told of the branch of a tree
which came down the stream and disappeared from
sight in the whirlpool.

He ended by describing the encounter with Manton,
the Mountain Mystery. And lastly, when he told of
, the plunge of the vagabond into the abyss, the girl was
prepared for the sequel. —

She listened without offering any comment until he
had finished. Then she said:

“Do you know, Buffalo Bill, that what you have told

me puts a strange suspicion into my mind?”

“What is it?”

“You: say that the strange vagabond at first seemed
anxious to warn you away from the spot?”

Sees .

“And yet he made no particular display of hostility
- toward you?’

“Somewhat to my surprise he did not.”

“Well, then, I think he came to the place with the
intention of throwing himself in, and he was afraid
that you might’ interfere with the execution of his
design.”

“It certainly looked as if he meant to commit sui-
cide;

“On the contrary, I don’t believe he intended to do
anything of the kind.”

“What do you mean?”

“You will laugh at me if I tell you.”

“Tf your idea appears to be very ridiculous, I won’t
agree to take it very seriously.”

“T don’t care whether you do or not, I’m going to
tell you frankly of the queer suggestion that came to
me as you were relating the story.”;

“Go ahead with it, then.”

“The idea is, that I don’t believe this is the first

time Manton, the Mountain Mystery, has seemed to*

attempt to commit suicide by throwing himself into
that abyss.”

“What are you talking about, girl?”

Bib STORMS. ®

“I mean exactly what I say.”

“You mean to say that you think that man has
jumped into the maelstrom before, and that he lived
through the ordeal?”

“That is what I mean.”

Buffalo Bill had not agreed to treat the suggestion
of the young lady with seriousness if it sounded absurd.
_ Yet, now that he came to think of it, incredible as it
might seem, there had really seemed to be something
in the action of Manton that justified the girl’s hy-
pothesis.

Not that it looked in the least probable, or even
possible, that a person could pass through such an
ordeal and live; only that the mysterious vagabond had
gone about the act with a sort of deliberateness and
precision that indicated previous experience along the
same line.

“Your suggestion really sounds rather foolish, Miss
Fairchild,” said the scout. “Yet I’m going:to give it
sufficient consideration to get at something in the way
of proof, either in one way or the other.” |

“What will you do?”

“T will go back and make a closer examination of

the spot from which the mountain vagabond leaped ~~

into the whirlpool.”

“Well, do so if you wish, but take the greatest care
that you meet with no accident yourself.”

Now that Buffalo Bill had decided, he lost no time
in carrying Out the project.

He made his way back over the rocks until he reached
the point over which Manton must have passed on the
way to his plunge.’

Here he made a close examination of the trail.

He was hardly prepared to find unmistakable indica-
tions that the track had been gone over many times, and
recently. %

He followed the trail until it brought him to the
very spot from which the mountain vagabond had ;
leaped into the abyss.

He found that the trail was. equally distinct up to
the jumping-off place.

“That proves one thing to a certainty,”’ muttered the

scout. “It shows that Manton has been over this

track several times, and, unless I make 4 mistake in

.reading the trail, the tracks nearly all point in one

direction, as if he had come to the whirlpool by this
route and returned by another. I’m blest if I don’t
begin to scent a clew to the mystery. But the question
is, how am I going to follow it up?”

 
 

Although Buffalo Bill did not then suspect it, this
last question of his was to be answered in an unmis-
takable manner.

While Genie Fairchild was waiting for the scout’s
‘return, concealed from his view. by the intervening
rocks, she was sure that she heard the sounds of horses’
hoofs approaching at no great distance.

_ These sounds ceased abruptly, and, as she did not
| hear them again, she was inclined to suspect that her
fears had deceived her.

» But a little later, as she glanced in the direction of
the trail over which Manton, the Mountain Mystery,
had passed, she caught a glimpse of a passing figure
. beyond the broken rocks.

Was it the scout returning?

No, for it was moving in the wrong direction. It
must be one of the horsemen whom she had heard'a
moment before.

She was instantly filled with alarm for the safety of
her companion.

Should she utter an outcry to warn him of the pos-
sible danger?

No sooner did this occur to her than she yielded to
the suggestion.

Her clear tones rang out in a shout that sounded
loud and distinct above the roar of the-rapids.

The warning cry came to the ears of Buffalo Bill.
He wheeled about in time to see a man of powerful
build in the very act of leaping upon him.

* He barely had.time to step a little to one side to
-avoid being thrown over the brink into the abyss.

But he could not avoid the clinch of his unknown
enemy, for he only recognized the ruffian who was
leaping upon him as a member of the party who had
been the captors of.Genie Fairchild.

In reality Buffalo Bill’s antagonist was the compan-
ion of Brant Clayton, whom the latter had addressed as
Clem.

In stature he was the giant of the party, and in
temper, as well as in features, he was as ugly as sin.

 

His attack on the scout was so unexpected that the
latter had no time to draw a weapon for self-defense.

Clem was a much heavier man than Buffalo Bill, and
the two were soon rolling upon the rocks in a desper-
ate grapple.

They were so near the brink of the whirlpool that
the struggle in reality became an attempt on the part

of each to throw the other over that brink, and to re-

sist the efforts of the opponent to the same end.

‘Ti DOBPALO: BILL STORIES. 21

Meanwhile Genie Fairchild, in suspense as to what
was happening, began cautiously to approach the spot
to see what had become of Buffalo Bill.

CHAP LER 1X:
THE CONSPIRACY,

After the encounter of Brant Clayton and his party
with Nick Wharton, the desperadoes had taken a little
time to recover from the confusion into which they had
been thrown.

The defeat which Clayton had received at the hands
of the old scout was another drop added to the bucket
which was already nearly full of ill nature.

There was an accumulation of ugliness in the man’s
breast, and he felt that he must take revenge on some-
body. ;

As a matter of fact, he had not called this gang to
gether without having some business for them to do.

“Tt looks to me,” said Clayton, “as if there had to
be a big crowd get to this place just when we have
something to do here. You say the name of that old
fellow is Nick Wharton?”

“That’s the name I heard him called by,” was the
answer of one who had once before seen the old scout.

“Tt looks to me as if the old man had more tricks
in him than there are in the mare.”

“There didn’t look to be gumption enough in him to |
make him very dangerous.”

“Neither did there look to be much speed in the
mare, but she managed to get out of the way like a
streak.”

“There isn’t much use of howling over it ndw.
We'll know how to take the old fellow the next time we .
meet him.” :

“Do you reckon that he is here alone?’

“T heard once of his being round with Buffalo Bill.”

“Where was that?”

“Tt was up in the Black Hills region.”

“How long ago was that?’

“Not more than a month or so.”

“Buffalo Bill!” growled Clayton, under his breath.
“T’ve heard enough of that man. While I never got
face to face with him, I know that he has the reputa-
tion. of always putting a finger in a pie.” ie

“THe has the name of being a hard man to tackle.”

“That merely means that he is a man followed by a
streak of good luck. One man is as good as another,

 
 

oe De SDUREARO. BILL STORIES.

except when luck runs against him—that’s my idea.
And luck generally runs my way.”

“I should think it-had for the last day,”
the one called Clem.

“Shut up!’ snapped Clayton.’

There was a brief interval of silence, which was
again broken by Brant Clayton.

“We've been careless to-day. You'll find that my
luck will run all right again, as soon as we get down
to business. We’re not going to drop things here. We
can’t very well afford to when we'have just got on
the track of the goal.”

“Well, you'll find the rest of us ready to stand by
you, if you have anything to put through.”

From this, the men went into what might be called
discussing from various points

muttered

a secret conference,
of view the plans and purposes which had brought them
to this region.

The object of their expedition may be named in a
single word—gold.

In common with many miners and prospectors, ru-
mors of a rich find of the precious metal had come to

theit ears from various sources.
'» These fumors were too persistent and frequent to be
entirely ignored. There must certainly be something
behind them. {

To fit out an expedition to search for such treasure,
was no more nor less than any honorable prospectors
might be prompted to do.

But Brant Clayton and his gang were not the sort
to go about it in an honorable way, even if the ob-
ject were a legitimate one.

' They had heard that several others were in quest
of the same treasure, and now it occurred to them
that old Nick Wharton, and possibly Buffalo Bill, might
be engaged in the same quest.

‘ Brant Clayton could not think of such a thing as al-
lowing the race for the treasure to be an open one.

So, in this secret conference, the rule was laid down
that in future if any of them were to encounter either
Buffalo Bill or Nick Wharton, or for that matter, any
others who could not give a satisfactory account of
themselves, that such interlopers should be shot -at
sight. :

Having discussed this matter in all its details, Clay-
ton and his companions remounted their horses and
struck out at a smart gallop along the same trail which
they had originally intended to follow.

After traveling the ravine for a considerable dis-

*

~

tance, they struck a slightly worn trail which would
lead them in the direction of the mountain torrent.
Although they did not suspect the fact, they again
came very close to encountering Nick Wharton, who
left the pass at about the same time that they did.

It will be remembered that we left Nick Wharton

- just as he had discovered Injun Joe, who was Ve x

in a thicket at one side of the ravine.
As was before stated, the young Indian was badly
injured in the way of scratches and a broken arm.
He was in such a miserable condition that he would
have been glad even if one of his enemies had come
to put an.end to his trouble.

Tortured with thirst, as well as with pain from his -

hurts, he was so exhausted that he could hardly speak.

For once Nick Wharton did not stop to do a great
deal of talking. Dearly as he loved to make his comi-
cal remarks, and to tell his queer stories, he fully un-
derstood what it was to suffer pain.

He had no great liking for an Indian under any
conditions.
trouble enough with them,

First, he got water for the young Indian to drink.

Next he turned his attention to the broken arm, which ~

he found so swollen and painful that the young red-
skin could scarcely repress a cry of pain when the scout
examined it.

There were not many surgeons in those days who
had set more broken arms and legs than had old ve
Wharton.

It was said that he had performed the same opera-
tion on himself, and, at a pinch, some others that were
quite as difficult.

So he went about fixing up the young Indian’s in-
juries without any useless fussing.

Injun Joe submitted to the operation with all the

stoicism of his race.

Not until the scout had gotten the fellow into as

comfortable shape as possible, was there hardly a word
exchanged between them. ;
Then the Indian spoke with some show of animation.
“Injun feel heap better!’ he remarked.
“T reckon ye do, Injun. A man always feels better

to have his bones spliced together if anything happens |

to bu’st em apart,” observed Nick, philosophically.

The Indian was silent.

Old Nick seemed to be pondering something, and,

as usual, he helped himself to think by telling one of his
yarns,

In the course of his long career he had had.

 
 

THE BUFFALO

“T knowed an Injun once that was so durn keerless
that he was always tumblin’ over rocks and into
canyons and sich and breakin’ his bones. He was one
of the sort to be forever in a tarnal tangle of some
sort.

_ “He bu’sted, one time and another, about every bone
he had in his corporosity—he did, by mighty! Both
his laigs were broke in more’n a dozen places, and
when they was set they jest naturally drawed up a lit-
tle each time. The consequence was that they wa’n’t
long enough to reach from his body to the ground.

_which was rather awkward, to put it mild.

“Things went from bad to wuss with that Injun.
His laigs bein’ so durn short, he had to walk on stilts,
and his arms was bu’sted so frequent that they wa’n’t
nothin’ but stubs. Then he broke his hips and back,
his ribs and shoulder blades, afore he got through.
Durn onlucky, that Injun was, by mighty!”

“Heap big lie!’ grunted Injun Joe, as the old scout
paused in his narrative.

“The yarn is jest as true as ever twas, and if that
Injun was alive [’d prove it to ye!”

“Him die?’ grinned the Indian. -

“Yes. Broke his neck at last, and after that he jest
lingered along, so discouraged that he didn’t want to
git well. But he died easy at last, that Injun did.”

The last part of the absurd yarn told by Nick Whar-
ton seemed to be so much more probable to Injun Joe
that the latter allowed it to pass without comment.

But as old Nick Wharton was silent again, and
| seemed to be pondering deeply, Injun Joe was appre-
| hensive lest he might have another yarn to tell.

But he need have had no such fears.

Nick had something else in store for him; a dose
which, however, might not be any more pleasant for
the young redskin.

The old scout fired the first question at him like a
shot out of a gun.

“Where’s that message that I give ye t’other day to
carry to the fort?”

The Indian struggled to his feet.

Although considerably bruised by his fall into the
ravine, the fellow, after all, seemed to bear some-
what of the charmed life of the redskin who was the
hero of Nick’s story.

His bruises nor the broken arm would not long
make it impossible for him to get about. Already
his cowardice prompted him to make another flight.

But old Nick Wharton had his eyes on him, and in

os

BILL STORIES. 23
those eyes there was an expression that warned the
Indian not to attempt running away.

And another thing, Nick would not allow him to
make up a yarn to suit himself.

Despite his fondness for telling queer yarns, the
old scout was a great lover of the truth.

When that was the thing he was after, nothing else
would go with him.

“Out with it, Injun!” said Nick.
message that I give ye?’

“Me lost it,” said the Indian.

“That’s a durn likely story! You want to go to
work and tell me the truth about it, or I’ll go to bu’st-
ing every bone in your body till ye ain’t no better off
than the Injun I was telling about! Now be keerful
‘and don’t make any mistakes, for if you git a hair’s-
breadth out of the way of the truth I'll know it the
minute the word drops!”

It. occurred to Injun Joe, perhaps for the first time
in his life, that thg simple truth might serve him bet-
ter than anything else in this life.

So he went about his story, telling in substance what
is already known -to the reader.

For it should be understood that what he had told
Buffalo Bill tegarding the predicament in, which the
latter had found him, was substantially true as far as
it went.

As a matter of fact, the ones who had attempted to
take the message from him were no other than Brant
Clayton and two of his men, the fourth member of
the party not being with them at the time.

It was also true that Injun Joe had thrown the mes-
sage into the ravine, as he had said, to prevent its fall-
ing into the hands of the white men.

As a matter of fact, Injun Joe was a queer bundle
of inconsistencies.

He seemed to start out with the intention of being
faithful, and he was capable of standing quite cour-
ageously by duty up to a certain point. But if he
found himself in a tight pinch, he did not have the
nerve to own up to a fault.

When Brant Clayton had captured the Indian, they
had first suspected the message he was carrying was
an oral instead of a written one.

“Where is that

They were prepared to torture him at any length
to force him to declare the substance of the message.

They would not accept his solemn asseverations to
the contrary. At last, to save himself from torture,
the messenger had taken the written slip from its hid-

ar

 
 

24 THE BUFFALO

ing place inside his tunic and displayed it before their
eyes.

Then, with lightning quickness, before the message
could be snatched from his fingers,, Injun Joe had run
to the brink of the ravine and thrown the message Over.

Here a poirit comes in which ee not before been
disclosed.

The slip of paper gripped in the pene of the Indian
had not fluttered down into the depths of the ravine,
but instead had lodged on a rocky projection scarcely
a yard beneath the surface.

This fact had been observed by Injun Joe, although
his captors were unaware of it, and he did not take the
trouble to enlighten them.

In his rage at the young Indian, Brant Clayton had
immediately ordered that Injun Joe be suspended out
over the ravine after the fashion in which he was dis-
covered by Buffalo Bill.

It should. here be explained also, how the seeming
difficulty of the operation was overcome.

As a matter of fact, the rope was stretched across
the ravine in the first place and made secure at both
ends.

Then Injun Joe had been forced * crawl out on to
the rope at the point of a revolver, and one of the
outlaws had secured him there in the manner before
described.

It might seem strange that the youre Indian, who in
some respects was so cowardly, did not tell his tor-
mentors where to find the message in the hope of saving
his own life.

But this was where he showed his faithful streak.

So much for the truth of the matter as it relates to
the disappearance of the message.

But since Buffalo Bill had released Injun Joe from
his predicament, something more had occurred, known
only to the Indian himself.

It will be remembered that Buffalo Bill left Injun
Joe by himself when he went to reconnoiter the camp
of the miners.

He had expected Injun Joe to await his return.

As a matter of fact, the Indian was no sooner left
alone than he was making his way back to the ravine,
straight to the spot where he had dropped the message.

He found this on the rocky projection, precisely
where it had fallen.

Having recovered it and concealed it in his tunic,
the Indian had started on his return to the spot where
Buffalo Bill had left him.

It was then that the camp of Brant Clayton had
been broken up by Manton, the Mountain Mystery.

Tt was the young Indian’s luck, therefore, to nearly
collide with Brant Clayton himself.

In mortal terror, Injun Joe had wheeled and raced
back in the direction of the ravine.

At about the same time Manton had made his start

beck STORIES=,

in a direction which would carry him across the track
of Injun Joe.

The latter caught a.glimpse of the Mountain Mys-
tery, and a new terror was added to that which al-
ready dominated him.

For the moment the redskin nearly lost his wits. It
was then that he reached the brink of the ravine and

made the reckless leap which Buffalo Bill had wit-_

nessed.

It would have been unlike the nature of Injun Joe
to have related to Nick Wharton all these details.

But, now that he was nailed to it, he did admit that
he had recovered the lost message.

“Well, Injun,” said Nick, “I reckon there ain’t any
use in taking the message to the fort now. Give it back
to: mie.”

OHAP Tih. oO.
BUFFALO BILL’S DARK DRIVE.

Meanwhile, how fared Buffalo Bill in his struggle
with the desperado on the brink of the maelstrom?

As we have before stated, the outlaw was a heavier
man than Buffalo Bill, and so furious was his attack on
the scout, that at the start Cody had all he could do. .

But it soon became clear that Buffalo Bill was the
superior of the two, and that with a fair ground he
would easily come off the conqueror.

But, in reality, the outcome of the struggle was
decided for them by circumstances which were beyond
the control of either of the antagonists,

At first the desperado attempted with all his strength
to push Buffalo Bill back over the brink.

But when he found that if he were to succeed in
this, the scout would be sure to drag him over also, he
became anxious to win the battle by means of different
tactics.

But it was too late.

The rocks were smooth and sloped steeply toward

the brink.

In their struggles they had worked themselves so
close that they found themselves sliding in spite of all
their attempts to regain a firmer hold.

There was now only one way for them to save them-
selves from taking the terrible plunge.

This was by declaring a temporary truce and so re-
leasing their holds upon each other until both could
regain a better footing.

This the desperado was ready enough to do.

A yell for mercy burst from his lips.

“Let go! let go!” he exclaimed.

But a grim and desperate determination seemed to
possess the scout.

The outlaw, in his terror, half released his hold upon
Buffalo Bill.

This gave the latter a momentary advantage, so that

 

 

as

 
 

ns

he might easily have saved himself by releasing his hold
upon his opponent.

But to have done so would also have given the
outlaw a last chance to save himself.

And, with a persistence and perversity that seemed
to be strangely unlike the usual care and good judg-
ment of the scout, the latter took advantage of his
chance and rushed the outlaw back over the brink.

A wild shriek of mortal terror rang from the man’s
lips.

Buffalo Bill could not have checked the momentum

' of his own forward movement if he had tried.

He saw the form of his foe turning over and over

in the air as it fell toward the surface of the water.
- Realizing that he must inevitably take the plunge,
Buffalo Bill did so in a manner that allowed him in
some measure to control his position when he should
strike the water.

He sprang far out clear of the rocks, and dropped
like a plummet, feet foremost, so as to strike in the
current at almost exactly the same point where the
Mountain Mystery had done so.

Fuily prepared as he was, and in a suitable position,
Buffalo Bill suffered no unpleasant shock from striking
the water.

He sank to a considerable depth and immediately
experienced the force of the swirling current.

Although he was well able to control himself in the
water, Buffalo Bill had no intention of trying to swim.

He knew that it would be wholly futile to do so.

Even if he were able to swim away from the whirl-
pool, and to reach the walls of the basin, it would have
been impossible for him to get out.

As his head came to the surface, the scout. beheld
the body of his late antagonist rolling over and over
in the water as it was swept toward the whirlpool.

The outlaw, as it chanced, had struck upon his back,
knocking the breath out of him, so that he had abso-
lutely no control over himself.

In that condition he was more than half drowned
before he reached the center of the whirlpool.

Buffalo Bill, on the contrary, cool and calm, and
with his lungs well filled, was in the best of condition

to stand the ordeal of being sucked into the maelstrom.

Buffalo Billhad fully made up his mind that a plunge
into the whirlpool under certain circumstances did not
necessarily mean death.

Being convinced, as he was, that it was no mad freak

_that prompted Manton, the Mountain Mystery, to vol-

untarily leap into the whirlpool, he had more than
half formed a purpose to risk the same leap himself.
This was before the attack had been made upon
him by the desperado.
Thus the action which he had
prompted by no restless impulse.
Now that he felt himself drawn rapidly toward ‘the
center of the whirlpool, and felt that the downward

taken had been

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. | 2s

sucking current was beginning to draw him beneath the
surface, Buffalo Bill experienced no real, sense of fear.
There was some anxiety at the outcome, of course.
But he did not feel that he was going to his death.
The rotary motion of the current made him intensely
dizzy, and as he found himself whirling round and
round, with his body almost in the vortex, he was smit-
ten with a slight sense of nausea.
But all the while his nerves held perce steady.
The downward suction of the water now maintained
him in an upright position without the aid of any effort
on his own part. |
As he reached the very center of the vortex there
was a single brief instant in which it seemed that he
stood motionless in the water.
The current roared almost deafeningly in his ears.
He made ready for the plunge and drew a full
breath, at. the same time closing his eyes.
He had barely done so, when he seemed to be seized

-by an irresistible force and jerked down beneath the

surface.

For a brief space he descended with lightning
velocity.

Then, instead of going straight downward, he knew
that his course had become less perpendicular, although
he was moving with the same dizzy speed.

It naturally seemed to him that he was held thus
under the surface for a much longer period than was
actually the case.

As a matter of fact, when he at last felt himself com-
ing to the surface, and knew that his face was no
longer submerged, he had by no means remained under
water so long as he might have done without incon-
venience.

Although his face was again to the surface and he
could draw a full breath, he was. still moving with the
impetuous current.

When he opened his eyes he was not surprised to
find himself enshrouded in darkness.

But a little later he was conscious of a faint gleam
of light that fell upon the smooth current of the stream.

He believed then that he was nearing the end of the
underground channel, and that the finish of his dark
drive on the mountain was close at hand.

A moment more and his hopes were realized.

The stream became broader and less impetuous, and
when he was at last borne out into the light of day, it
was upon a placid though still moving current.

At first his vision was dazzled by the light, for the
sun was shining full upon him.

But he was soon able to make out enough of his
surroundings to assure him that, for the present at
least, he was out of danger.

He found himself in a broad, open space, where the
underground stream broadened into a small lake, whose
placid ‘surface mitrored the towering rocks that frowned
upon its borders.

 
   

26 THE BUFFALO

_

The current of the stream swept along to the left of
the lake, and in another moment the feet of Buffalo
Bill touched upon a gravelly bottom. ©

A few paces brought him to the shore.

This was a sort of pebbly beach which had been
washed and worn by the mountain torrent for count-
less ages.

A glance at the base of the cliffs, uate seemed to
shut in the lake on all sides, made it evident that at
times the stream rose to a,much greater height, and
that the current frequently wore away fragments from
the base of the rocks.

For that, matter, all of the gravel along the shore
which formed the beach had been produced by the
process of erosion upon the rocks.

Special note is taken of these particulars, because of
their bearing upon the discoveries which Buffalo Bill
was soon to make.

But at first Buffalo Bill was too much Seen by
the ordeal through which he had passed to particu-
larly observe his immediate surroundings.

One of the first objects which he really observed
was the body of a man which had been washed up on
the shore at a point a few yards distant from the spot
where he had landed.

As soon as he could summon the ambition to do so,

he approached the body and made a hasty examination _

of it.

-The face had been badly bruised by contact with
rocks, yet it was instantly recognized by Buffalo Bill as
that of the desperado with whom he had been fighting
a short time before.

The man was dead; of this there could be no doubt.

As soon as Buffalo Bill was assured of this fact,
he set about scooping a hollow in the sand that the
body might be buried from sight.

He had hardly begun the task before he discovered
something that brought a cry to his lips.

At first he thought the glittering sand which glim-
- mered so in the sunlight was merely besprinkled with
something known as fool s gold.

But the object which he “had now discovered con-
vinced him of his mistake.

It was a nugget of pure gold, something which, al-
though not a professional gold hunter, he could not
fail to recognize instantly.

Although a dull, rusty color, there were spots upon
it which had been rubbed by the gravel in a shifting
level of the lake, and these spots were worn bright,
looking indeed like gold which has been burnished.

But the weight of the nugget alone would have been
sufficient testimony as to its true value.

Unlike the professional prospector or gold hunter,
the fever which comes for the constant search of the
precious metal had never gotten into the veins of the
scout.

Yet no man can make such a discovery as this with-
out some feeling of excitement.

 

child is also living, as his daughter believes.

  

BIEL. STORIES,

The discovery made him forget, for the time, that
his object in scooping the sand had really been to dig
a grave for the desperado.

He continued to plow in the gravel with his fingers,
and then with a knife from his belt, in quest of more
signs for the precious metal.

Then, for the first time, he realized that even the
sand bore a rich deposit of gold in the small’ particles

as they had been worn from the rocks by the patient

toil of the water.

“T have made a rich strike!’
“And yet probably I’ am not the original discoverer.
This probably explains why Manton, the Mountain
Mystery, made his voluntary plunge into the whirl-
pool.

The fact that I came through the maelstrom in
safety, likewise lends color to the belief that Fair-
THe
question merely remains why he has not returned, if he
is alive and uninjured by his plunge.

“Could it turn out that this inclosure, which seems
to be almost entirely filled bythe lake, is yet more dif-
ficult to get out of than the basin of the maelstrom ?”

So many problems were presented to the brain of
Buffalo Bill that he could not hope. to find an answer to
them all at once.

For the present he contented himself with further
testing the richness of his find.

It did not take long to demonstrate the fact that
he had discovered a veritable pocket, for he found the
gold nuggets as numerous almost as the pebbles in an
ordinary bed of gravel.

When he had finished digging them out, and real-
ized that the contents of the pocket had been exhausted,

he knew that he had unearthed a small fortune, and all ©

within a brief space of time.

“Gold! gold!” exclaimed the scout, standing up and
waving one hand in the air. “And the sand is full of
it! Its sparkle fairly dazzles my eyes!” —

y

CHAPTER xT
GOL Di aS NOR Aad ee

For two hours after he had buried the body of the
desperado, Buffalo Bill was busy in exploring the in-
closure. ~
It was some two or three acres in extent, and oval
in shape.

Like the basin where the maelstrom was located, it
was shut in on all sides by perpendicular rocks.

In some places these were broken and rugged, and
at a casual glance it would have seemed possible to
have scaled them.

But a closer examination showed this to be impos-
sible.

To make a circuit of the basin, it was of course

exclaimed the scout..

 

 

  
  
  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
 
   
 
  
  
  
  
   
 
 
 
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
   
 

     
THE BUFFALO

necessary to cross the lake at both ends, where it was
narrowest.

The Sout found that the lake emptied into two chan-
nels, both of which seemed to plunge into the very
face of the frowning rocks.

It might be that one or both of these would lead into
the open air again and to actual liberty, if he would
take the risk of plunging into them.

But without further evidence of the truth of such
a possibility it would be mere foolhardiness to take the

| chances.

Now, for the first time, Buffalo Bill fully realized
that he had been somewhat inconsiderate of the feelings
of Genie Fairchild in leaving her in the manner in
which he had done.

While she was in possession of the theory concern-
ing the maelstrom, which had led him to hazard the
experiment of a plunge into its depths, she did not
know that he was going to make that plunge himself,
and at that time.

Therefore, she must be in great suspense over his
sudden and complete disappearance, and his non-
return.

“There's no use talking,’ muttered the scout.
“There must be a way out of this, and I can’t make it
any too soon. It is possible that Manton, the Mountain
Mystery, haS come to ths place and gone out of it
again more times than one. If he finds.a way so

ean 1.”
Of course Buffalo Bill’s examination of tie open
space occupied by the hidden lake had been necessarily
a hasty one, and it was by no means thorough.

All that was really demonstrated by it was a cer-
tainty that there was no open passage out of the in-
closure.

Now he set about a closer éxamination at one of
those points where the rock walls were the most broken
and uneven.

For more than an hour he patiently explored every
nook and cranny along the broken surface.

'  Heexamined the most likely places at first, of course,
' but later he poked his way even into narrow crevices
where there was hardly room enough for him to pass.

Penetrating one of these, which seemed to be the
' nearest niche, he was not a little startled by hearing a
' human voice call out to him somewhat harshly.

“Get back from there!’ the voice cried.

~The command issued from the niche in the rocks, and
the first idea suggested to Buffalo Bill was that the
command came from Manton, the Mountain Mystery.

This probability would have made him cautious about
disregarding the order.

But at the same time another possibility occurred to
him, suggested by the peculiar tone im which the com-
mand was uttered.

Before making a move either to retreat or advance,
Buffalo Bill decided to speak.

BILE STORIES. 27

“Who is it?” he asked, in his quiet tones

There was a momentary silence and then the un-
known individual answered :

“So you’re not Manton, the Mountain Mystery?” -

“No, and you have nothing to fear from me. I am
going to make a guess as to mee you are, and if I hit
right, Pil tell you ‘who I am, without any bother.”

“Well, then, make your guess.’

“Are you Mr. Fairchild ?”

“Yes, my name is Fairchild.”

“And T am Buffalo Bill, and it is your daughter,
Genie, who sends me here in search of you. So the
sooner you crawl out of that place, and tell me how to
get out of here for good, the better it will be for both
of us.’

“I would be glad enough: to get out of here if I
could. _ But can I believe my own ears when I hear
you say that you come from my Genie?’

“Your ears are playing an old trick, my man, and I
hope your eyes may look at the girl again pretty soon.
You can’t. very well realize how she has felt about
you since she heard that you fell into the maelstrom.’’

“Then she heard of that?”

“Yes, and was convinced that it was true. And yet,
contrary to the idea of everybody else, she thought |
that you still might be living.”

“Thank Heaven that she did not lose hope, as I did
many days ago!”

“Why lon’ you come out of ieee. Fairchild, and
not keep yourself so mighty shy ?”’

“Because I can’t get out.”

“Why not?”

“T’ve a broken leg!”

“Then I reckon I can come to you.”

Without more ado, Buffalo Bill scrambled down
through the narrow opening and presently found him-
self at the bottom of a sort of grotto, which was so
narrow that it would,have been crowded if half a dozen
men had attempted to stand together in it.

Buffalo Bill’s pocket lantern was now unfit for use,
on account of his dark drive through the underground
channel.

But as soon as the scout’s eyes became accustomed
to the gloom, he found that sufficient daylight ‘pene-
trated to the spot to enable him to observe the few ob-
jects which were discernible.

Mr. Fairchild lay on the rocks with only the thick-
ness of a bearskin for a bed.

The glance showed Buffalo Bill that the man’s leg
was done up in splints in a somewhat rude attempt at
surgery.

The scout bent over the injured man and peered into
the haggard, upturned face.

It was the face of a handsome, middle-aged man,
emaciated by fasting and pain.

“Why, man, how long have you been lying here in
this shape?’ exclaimed the scout. —

 
  

. THE BUFFALO

28

 

we

“For nearly* two weeks.”

“Eyer since you first came down through the mael-
strom—through the water?’

“Vas, 9)

“Then your leg was broken at that time?”

“Not in the passage through the channel, nor until
I had been in this place for a number of hours. I broke
my leg in attempting to get out of the basin in which
this lake is situated. | tried to climb up one of the
steep declivities, which offered a remote promise of
escape. I lost my footing, fell, and so broke my leg. . -

“For many hours after I fell on the rocks, the broken
limb received no attention, and no words can describe
the misery that I suffered. At the same time, I had
had nothing to eat and suffered with thirst.

“It was at this critical time that Manon, the Moun-
tain Mystery, came plunging out of the lake and
found me lying on the sand near the base of the rocks.
At first he regarded me so fiercely that 1 feared the
only escape from my troubles would be by death.

‘He seemed to regard me as an interloper here, as if
this place were his own special possession. He would
speak hardly a word to me, but he seemed to show
some interest in the story I had to tell.

“When I had explained my situation to him, he gave
utterance to a sort of grunt and proceeded to fix up my

ey

leg after a fashion that proved he knew his business, |

although he'seemed to have no consideration for the
amount of pain he might cause me.

“For a day he left. me lying right here, or rather
outside of here, just where I had fallen, providing
me with a scanty supply of dried meat and water. But
the sun scowled upon me so warm, that, in response
to my pleading, he brought me into this place. That
day he went away, leaving a scanty supply of food and
drink for me, and without nae me when he would
return.

“I begged of him, that if hé knew the way out of
this place, he would at least carry a message for me to
some one outside. But this he refused point-blank to
do. The next day, after he went away, a most cufious
thing happened.

“A pigeon flying over the basin, across from the op-
posite_side of the lake, in some manner struck upon
the jagged rocks overhead so as to injure one of its
wings, Partially stunned by the contact, the pigeon
came fluttering:down into this place.

“I teok the bird in my hands, supposing that its wing
was broken.* But in this I was mistaken. The injury
was comparatively slight, and I believed that within
an hour or two it would be able to fly away again.
Then it was that what I hoped might be a happy sug-
gestion popped into my head.

“T had some pieces of paper in my pocket and a pen-
cil, and I wrote a brief message, telling of my predica-
ment, and of how I came to be in it. Signing my name
to his message, I folded it. up and tied it to one of
the pigeon’s legs in such a mafner that it would be

 

BILL STORIES.

easily discovered without hampering the bird in its —
flight.

Then I released the pigeon and encouraged it to a
At first it seemed reluctant to make the attempt, but
at last it perched on the rock over my head, and finally
flew away out of my sight.

“You don’t know what hopes I based on that ex-
periment. For days I hoped:and waited for a reply in
some form. But it was all in vain. Meanwhile, Man-
ton, the Mountain Mystery, returned every day or two,

and kept me scantily supplied with food and water.

How he came, or whither he went, I could not con-
jecture. The only evidence I had was that his cloth-
ing was always wet when he arrived, so [| assumed
that he had to come by way of water.”

“Well, my man, you have had quite an experience,
and I am blest if I am sure that you have got to the end
of it yet! You say you haven’t any idea as to how
Manton gets out of here?”

“No, I haven’t the least idea.”

“Do you think there is any way of getting out by
means of climbing over the rocks, or through any hid-
den passage among them?”

“No, I don’t think there is. I think Manton comes
and goes by means of one or another of the channels
through which the water flows.” 4

“Has Manton been here. to see you to-day?”

“No, but I am expecting him.”

“He jumped into the whirlpool just before I did so,
and unless he met with some accident, there’s-every
reason to believe that he is still here. There are so
many hiding places among the rocks, that he might be
in the vicinity easily enough without my having seen
him.”

Fairchild was about to speak again, when Buffalo’
Bill laid a hand warningly on his arm.

They both heard the sound of footsteps on the rocks
and sand outside.

“I am going to get out of sight when he comes here,
and don’t you mention to him that you have seen me,”
said Buffalo Bill, in a whisper. “After he goes from
here I will set a watch on him, and will find the way he
gets out of here.”’

The footsteps outside had paused momentarily, and
without waiting for any response from Mr. Fairchildy
Buffalo Bill squeezed himself into a dark, narrow re-
cess from whence he could overhear all that passed
within the little grotto.

He had barely time to get out of sight when Manton
clambered into the place where Fairchild was lying. _

Few words were exchanged between Fairchild and
the Mountain Mystery.

For the sake of keeping up appearances Fairchild
asked the usual questions, and as usual begged that
Manton carry some message from him, or tell him of a
way of escape fee the basin of the hidden lake.

And, as usual, Manton’s only answer came in the
shape of gruff erunts or silent shrugs.

 
THE BUFFALO

 

Manton gave Mr. Fairchild a new supply of dried
#% meat, and this time he added a few cakes made of
%@ coarse cornmeal.
He made no examination of the broken limb, and did
not remain so long as usual.
The instant that he went Buffalo Bill returned to the
wyrisoner, for such Fairchild seemed to have become.

the inclosure unobserved by the scout, Buffalo Bill
hastened to climb out of the cleft, and take up a position
whence he could observe his movements. He was in
time to see Manton hurry along the beach that skirted
that side of the lake. He saw him enter one of the
@ clefts among the rocks at no great distance.
But just as Buffalo Bill would have gone to investi-
“Ys gate, Manton reappeared, paused at the entrance of the
# «cleft, glanced alertly up and down the lake and along
./ the narrow strip of beach, and at last started with his
great strides along the lower end of the lake.
\ , Buffalo Bill followed cautiously, keeping well out of
sight, and was in time to see Manton plunge into the
§ lake and move toward one of the channels that served
§ §6for the outflow.
“Found at last!
falo Bill.

That is the way!” exclaimed Buf-

 
  
    
  
   
   
   
     
  

CHAPTER 21h
CONCLUSION.

What had become of the message Mr. Fairchild
ad intrusted to the wild pigeon which seemed to have
so providentially dropped into the hidden grotto where
_the man was the same as imprisoned ?

_ Its fate is easily explained.

Nick Wharton, whose foxy old eyes observed every-
hing, had seen the lonely pigeon flutter somewhat
weakly down upon a rock and remain there so long that
he curiosity of the old man was excited.

He had approached, and seeing that, the bird seemed
o be too weak to fly, he went up and tried to capture
t in his hands.

The pigeon tried to flutter out of his way, and in do-
/ing so it gave the scout a glimpse of the slip of paper
i tied to its leg.

@) «Ina moment he had captured the bird and read the
“# message.

A little later he had encountered Injun Joe.

The message was addressed especially to Genie Fair-
child, and directed to the military post. But the appeal
for help was open to anyone who might find it.

This was the strangely ill-fated message, and the
reason that Nick Wharton had not done anything about
the rescue of Mr. Fairchild from his predicament, was
that he was wholly at a loss how to proceed, since there
were no directions as to how to reach the hidden lake.

The only suggestion of value given in the message
was the fact that Manton, the Mountain Mystery, vis-

Then, to make sure that Manton should not leave ©

BILL STORIES. 29
ited the place, and that by’ following him probably the
way of getting in and out of the strangely hidden re-
treat could be found.

Nick Wharton had not yet had an opportunity for
following the Mountain Mystery.

So that part of the program was left, after all, for
Buffalo Bill to accomplish. And he did it, with his
usual dash and boldness, without knowing certainly
what the outcome might be.

After an hour or two of recuperation, during which
Nick Wharton put in good time in pumping facts out
of the young Indian, the latter improved so that he de-
clared himself able to conduct the old scout back to the
point whence the maelstrom stream flowed out from
the hidden lake and into the open.

_ This was a secret which Injun Joe had discovered
through seeing Manton appear at that point.

“Manton him heap medicine, just same spirit; him
die in roaring water two, three time, come life again,”
declared Injun Joe, in reply to Nick’s inquiries.

“Yes durned superscrumptious, redskin} that’s what
ye air, by mighty!” retorted Nick.

Nick set the Indian on Diana’s back, and, walking
at the side of the mare, he allowed the Indian to guide
him to the place he wished to reach.

As they approached it Injun Joe became so terrified
that it was with difficulty the old scout could prevail
upon him to proceed.

But the distance was much shorter than he ‘had sup-
posed, for the stream, after leaving the whirlpool,
flowed in the direction of the ravine for a considerable
distance.

Through a narrow pass, barely wide enough for the
little mare to squeeze through, they made their way,
and came out into a narrow valley, along which flowed
a broad and placid stream.

This they followed up for half a mile, and there
came to the place where it issued from the base of a
perpendicular cliff.

“That where him come out!” declared Injun Joe,
pointing at the spot where the stream glided forth.

“Likely enough. That ere Manton is umbacious
enough to come out of any sort of a durned hole where
a decent, right-headed man would have to quit sneezin’
and go to glory!”

The mare, the young Indian and the old scout were
standing behind a rocky projection at the moment, and
even as Nick spoke these last words both of them saw
Manton, the Mountain Mystery, come out from among
the rocks on the opposite side of the stream and stand
gazing down the valley.

Injun Joe clung to the arm of the scout in sudden
terror.

At that moment a muttered ejaculation escaped from
the lips of Nick Wharton.

The Indian turned to look at the stream where it
came forth from under the cliff, and at which point the
old scout was pointing.

 
30 THE BUREALO
For at that instant another form appeared on the
surface of the stream, walking with his head and shoul
ders out of the water.

“It’s Buffler Bill, by mighty!’

And so it was!

The border king was wading along the shallow bed
of the stream.

The next moment he had stepped out of the water
and was gazing toward Manton, who seemed to be
buried in a reverie, and unconscious of everything
around him.

Through all of his adventures Buffalo Bill had kept
his lasso and reata fastened at his belt.

Now he suddenly loosened the coil, took a few quick
strides toward the Mountain Mystery, and then flung
the lasso. -

True as a die sped the noose.

It fell over the head and shoulders of Manton, and
while a roar of rage came from the mysterious giant,
the coil was drawn taut and held him fast!

“Good, By mighty! Got him in a tarnal tangle!’
yelled old Nick, who, at the same time, went splashing
across the shallow river to lend a helping hand in re-
ducing the strange giant to submission, should such help
be needed.

Manton made a fearful struggle; but the reata was
strong and he could not getaway.

In a moment more the two scouts had him helplessly
bound, the noose was taken off, and then, for the first
time, they discovered that his head was bleeding from
a wound.

Soon after the capture of the Mountain Mystery was
effected he sank into unconsciousness.

They made him as comfortable as possible, and Nick
Wharton volunteered to remain with him, while Buf-
falo Bill returned to the place where he had left Genie
Fairchild, about whom he was keenly anxious.

The scout was not at a loss to find his way, from di-
rections of the older scout, and in a short time he was
fairly on his way to the vicinity of the whirlpool,
where he hoped that the girl might still linger, uncer-
tain as she was concerning the fate of Buffalo Bill.

But before he could reach the rendezvous, he was
startled to hear the sound of swiftly running footsteps
and a scream of terror.

The next instant he beheld Genie Fairchild as she
darted forth from a rugged pathway.

A cry of unspeakable relief broke from her lips as

she found herself face to face with the border king.

She still carried his rifle, which he had left in her
charge, and this she thrust into his hands, exclaiming
as she did so:

“They're coming—at my very heels!”

“Who?” he breathlessly demanded.

“Two of my former captors! Oh!—save yourself!’

The scout’s rifle went up and twice the repeater
spoke its deadly sentence.

The two outlaws had just sprung into view. “Yells

BLL STORES:

of consternation which were on their lips, as they
discovered Buffalo Bill confronting them, while they
gripped their own weapons, were changed to groans
of death agony as they were smitten by bullets.

Brant Clayton was the foremost of the twain, and so,
before he could carry out the planned program against
Buffalo Bill, the conspirators went the way that so
many other foes of the noted scout had to go.

The next moment Genie Fairchild, laughing and
crying at the same time, and weak with the reaction
from her terror, was clasped in the strong arms of
Buffalo Bill.

And while for a brief space she thus allowed hiny

to support her, she listened to the joyful tidings of the
finding of her father.

There is little more to tell.

Manton, the Mountain Mystery, when he recovered
consciousness, recovered his say also, and he told
the scouts his story.

This, in brief, was to the effect that while prospect-
ing’ for gold he had drifted down the rapids and been
drawn into the maelstrom.

The terrible ordeal had upset his as and from
that hour to the time when the injury to his head
restored his sanity, his memory was a blank.

It turned out that he had accumulated a large store.

of gold nuggets and dust from the beach of the hidden
lake.

This was found later by chance, he being instinctively
led to the cache which he had made while out of his
head.

It was found that, by special care, it was possible
to return to the hidden lake by way of the passage
through which the water ran out of the lake, instead
of braving the danger of the whirlpool, although the
latter was not such | a serious peril as it had appeared.

The scouts returned to the hidden lake and brought
Mr. Fairchild out in safety, and he was taken to a
mining camp not many miles distant.

Later, Fairchild and Manton staked claims on the
beach of the hidden lake, and for a time they proved to
be of almost fabulous value.

Buffalo Bill, however, was not permitted to accu-
mulate a fortune at that time. A duty and danger call
summoned him in another direction.

With old Nick and Diana it was the same.

Of the beautiful and brave Genie we would like-
wise fain tell another tale.

THE END.

Next week’s issue, No. 170, will contain “Buffalo
Bill’s Fair, Square Deal: or, The Duke of the Dagger’s
Deadlock.” This story tells of the terrible struggle
between the mysterious man known as the Duke of the
Dagger and the great scout.

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

BUFFALO Bi ORIES

Containing the Most Thrilling Adventures of the Celebrated
Government Scout “BUFFALO BILL” (Hon. William F. Cody.)

 

 

135—Buffalo Bill in Arizona; or, The Black Brotherhood. '
136—Buffalo Bill and the Revolver Riders; or, Kent King, the Gambler Guide.
137—Buffalo Bill in the Black Hills; or, Red Hand, the White Mystery.
138—Buffalo Bill’s Daring; or, The Branded Brotherhood.
139—Buffalo Bill’s Pluck; or, The Mysterious Boy of the West.
- 140—Buffalo Bill’s Long Chase; or, Grit, the Gambler Sport.
141—Buffalo Bill’s Nerve of Iron; or, The Chief of the Gold Wolves.
142—Buffalo Bill’s Raid of Death; or, The Border Robin Hood. _
143—Buffalo Bill’s Triple Duel; or, Red Plume, the Boy Hermit.
144—Buffalo Bill’s Boy Scout; or, The Phantom Spy of the Prairie.
145—Buffalo Bill’s Feather-Weight; or, Apache Charley, the Indian Athlete.
146—Buffalo Bill’s Fire Fighters; or, Darrell, the Drover from Dead Easy.
147—Buffalo Bill’s Boy Beagle; or, New York Ned’s Redskin Trail.
148—Buffalo Bill’s Five “Friendlies”; or, Wally Burt, the War Hawk of Tomaclub.
149—Buffalo Bill’s Banner Play; or, Cripps, the Canyon Centaur.
1s0—Buffalo Bill’s Pawnee Pard; or, The Comanche Captive.
151—Buffalo Bill, the Spotter Scout; or, The Saddle Knight from Siskiyou.
152—Buffalo Bill’s Danger Line; or, Snake Eye’s Silent Signal.
153—Buffalo Bill’s Blind Lead; or, The Pirates of the Prairie.
154—Buffalo Bill’s River Rovers; or, Redskins and Rangers.
15s—Buffalo Bill and the Kid-Glove Kid; or, The Flim-flam at Flamingo,
156—Buffalo Bill’s Four-footed Pard; or, The Red Witch.
157—Buffalo Bill at Bay; or, The Last Call at Lost Canyon.
158—Buffalo Bill’s Cold Chase: or, Running Down Redskins on Ice.
-159—Buffalo Bill and the Timber Thieves; or, The Camp of the Secret Clan.
160—Buffalo Bill’s Long Drop; or, Drawing Lots with Death.
161—Buffalo Bill’s Blockhouse; or, Old Nick Wharton’s Strategy.
162—Buffalo Bill’s Canyon Cache: or, The Beauty from Butte.

163—Buffalo Bill and the Great Sunstone; or, The Trick that Trapped 4 the ‘uke oF the Dagger. i:

164—Buffalo Bill’s Wildest Ride; or, The Monster Serpent of the Bad Lands’ Lake.
165—Buffalo Bill and the Greengoods’ Cabal; or, The Woman with the Manacled Arm.
166—Buffalo Bill’s Lightning Shot; or, The Red Gulch Rescue.

167—Buffalo Bill’s Bandit Friend; or, The Mystery of the Black Riders.

168—Buffalo Bill at Bay;or, The Claim Jumper of Silver Gulch.

 

 

All of the above numbers always on hand. lf you cannot get them from your newsdealer,
five cents a copy will bring them to you by mail, postpaid.

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 2338 Wiiliam St. NEW YORK

 

 

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These books are written by well-Known authors,
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9 Oo. The First Shot for Liberty; or, The Minute Men of Massachusetts, By John De Mora
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LATEST TITLES :
156—Buffalo Bill’s Four Footed Pard; :
or, The Red Witch
157—Buffalo Bill at Bay:

or, The Last Call at Lost Shen |
158—Buffalo Bill’s Cold Chase; or, Running

Down Redskins on the _ Ice
159— Buffalo Bill and the Timber Thieves;

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160—Buffalo Bill’s Long Drop;

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or, The Woman With the Manacled Arm

 

 

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THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES

or, Old Nick Wharton’s Strategy q

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