A WEEKLY PUBLICATION

Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. VY. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Avé. No ¥.

No. 292 NEW YORK, DECEMBER 15, 1906. Price, Five Cents

9

 

 

=n
a
©
QF
N
Ok

sa ee

«Does Long Hair demand entrance

 
 

 

 

 

 
3 sa

Sipe
SS

pg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A WEEKLY PUBLICATION
DEVOTED TO BORDER HISTORY

 

 

 

fssued Weekly.

By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. V. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-59 Seventh Cree

NG ae Pee according to Act of Cingress in the year 1906, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, as: D.C

_ Beware of Wild West imitations of the Buffalo Bill Stories.

They are about fictitious characters. The Buffalo

Bill weekly is the only weekly containing the adventures of Buffalo Bill, (Col. W. F. me! who is known all

over the world as the king of scouts.

 

No. 292.

 

FALO

NEW YORK, December 15, 1906.

 
 

Price Five Cents. .

 

Kickapoos.

 

 

By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.”

®

 

GHAP TER 1)

THE YELLOW DIAMOND.

Platte City at this time was a sprawling collection of
huts, tents, a few frame buildings, and miles of emi-
grant-“schooners,” upon the ee of the North Fork of
the Platte River. The streets’ were hub-deep with red
mud, which the. horses, mules, and oxen churned daily
into a paste of the consistency of old-fashioned flour-
gruel.

It wasn’t an attractive place, but it had attracted thou-
sands of people—men, women, and children. It had at-
tracted thousands of dollars and vast quantities of sup-
plies and other goods. It was a busy, bustling frontier
town, with all manner of men in it; but the main topic
of interest was the recent gold discoveries in the Black
Hills and the surrounding country.

The one-time long trains of prairie- Se that
had rumbled away on the California trail were now di-
verted to a more northerly route. Even the famous cry
of “Pike’s Peak or Bust!” had given place to.a new
motto of the ever-enthusiastic gold-seeker— on to the
Black Hills!”

The most serious-minded people were bitten of the

Sencar drs Oornony epee ret sara penis ning: Monetary annette nga NTR nn OT

siete ren ares eae aan ae ote ar pte

gold-fever, threw up their business, broke the ties that
bound them to civilization, and hurried away into the
unknown lands of the Dakotas. The fact that the Indian
tribes lying between the Platte and the golden country
were particularly hostile ce but few of these phan-
tom-seekers.

he cosmopolitan throng in Platte City betrayed how
the craze for digging gold had affected people of every
walk in life.. It was said that a famous pastor of a city
church in the Middle West had leit his pulpit, flung
aside his surplice, and gone avowedly to seek for gold.
There were plenty of ministers who struck out into the
gold-fields ostensibly to better the condition of the men’s
souls.

There were physicians, ee professional men af
every known breed, mechanics, and even kid-gloved so-
ciety devotees. The crowds were mostly made up of
men who, for some reason, had been unsuccessful in
their calling at home, or were discontented with their
lot. The contented man is never a pioneer in any degree.

There were, too, a number of the curious gnes—those
who had merely come “to look on.” Some of these be-
came bitten by the gold-bug and i ae bound
North and West, too. : >

~

 
 

 

7 clean-limbed,
| Englishman, °
_| had he gone hunting on the moors of his own shire.

| his expenditures.

 

 

THE BUFFALO

~ Among the throng was the noticeable figure of a
broad-shouldered,
He was dressed as he might have been
Te

had, a frank face, if a retiring manner. People spoke to

4 him, and he «eplied pleasantly; but he seldom opened a
conversation himself. He seemed vastly interested in all _

that was going on, however.

He had now been in Platte City several days, hailing
from nobody knew where, and apparently without any
object for the future. He smoked a big pipe and strolled

about on the broken plank walks, and no train of wagons .

left the town without he was in the crowd to bid the
voyagers Godspeed,

He went freely into the places of “entertainment” in the
evening, but he did not gamble, and he seemed too clean-
minded to desire to enter into the questionable amuse-
ments of the reckless men about him. He did not drink
to excess, but he never seemed to pick and choose his
acquaintances. One-evening he would talk with and
have a drink with the flashiest gambler in the town; the
next he might be found sitting at a table and treating
the veriest “bum,’’ or even a half-cast Indian, He
seemed willing to be friendly with anybody who would
talk and. who had something new fo tell him.

He wore a belt about his: waist, but he had not taken

} up the almost universal custom of carrying a gun slung -
| toa,
) every man one met carried two revolvers, and sometimes

Gun-fights were common in the town, and almost

Even the clerks in
hat had come
with the rush from ce Louis a St. Jo; and, after
their work was over, swaggered about the streets and
dance-halls. with the armament of a Montana outlaw
about their persons !

The Englishman before mentioned was not lavish in
He never “flashed” his money. He

a big bowie in addition, in his belt.

                                        

| did not display much wealth, either in funds or personal

adornment, except in one particular.

His. coat was a. short cutaway. Even when it.was

ua tightly buttoned it did not entirely conceal the watch-
| chain that was fastened from the lower waistcoat pocket
| on one side to the similar pocket on the other side.

And
directly in the middle of this chain was a loop of strong
gold links te which was pendent a jewel.of such magnifi-
cence and beauty that it might have stirred the covetous-
ness of an Indian prince!

It was a great, pear-shaped yellow diamond. It was
cut so exquisitely. that a single ray of light upon it made
the stone glow with every hue of the rainbow, and be-
come absolutely dazzling to the human eye!

Such an ornament could not escape the attention of
even people so busy with their own affairs as was the
floating and resident population of Platte City. The

Englishman began to be spoken of as “The Maw with the.

Volow Diamond.”

One evening, in Jake Kinstry’s, the young oe e

man attracted the attention of a stranger who had not
been seen about the frontier town before. He sat at a
small table by himself at one side, and seemed to scruti-

nize every person who entered the big, barnlike structure —

with more than ordinary interest. Yet the man’s gaze

was never, offensive, and his look did not invite com-

panionship.
Among so many oddly and roughly. deen men this
stranger's “appearance was particularly gentlemanly, al-

 

 

rosy-cheeked young |

traved the @resence of a bowie.

 

BILL STORIES.

though he was not clothed according to Eastern stand-
ards, He wore the tight trousers and high, polished boots
of the cavalryman, yet his coat was of closely fitting
fringed buckskin, and in his belt, as the flaps of his coat
were thrown back, it was easy to see the butts of two
silver-mounted revolvers and the beautifully polished
handle of one of those terrible knives made famous by
Colonel Bowie, of Texas.

Yet there was nothing, from the crown of the stran-
ger’s broad-brimmed, silver-corded hat to the tiikline
silver spurs on his heels, to denote the border ruffian,

His hair waved naturally to his coat-collar, and his
well-bronzed fate was adorned with mustache and goatee.
Innumerable wrinkles at the outer corners of his eyes
and a certain concentration of glance showed him to be
a man used for years to staring across great spaces oi
the earth. Such eyes and such expression in them are
common among sailors and frontiersmen.

As before stated, when the stranger turned his gaze
upon the young Englishman his attention seemed more
than casual. Although his gaze was not offensive,.the
younger man had an uneasy consciousness that he was
being measured and weighed by the keen-eyed individual
—hboth physically and mentally,

The Englishman, too, sat alone by a table, but not for
long. Down the room swaggered a short, dumpy indi-
vidual—one of those sporty, “hail-fellow-well-met’’ sort
of men, with a wide waistband and a wider smile. He
was. known to the fraternity that had gathered at Platte
City like vultures before a battle as “Sport’’ Gallinger.

Sport nodded familiarly to the Englishman and
dropped down into a chair by his table. Sport had
spoken to the Englishman once before, and, to his mind,
that constituted srounds for the establishment of a fa-
miliar acquaintance.

“Great country, this,” said he easily, breaking’ i in ag
the Englishman’s reverie. :

“Tt is, indeed, a ee territory,

39

responded the he

- soberly.

“Find a. good many peculiar types of people here,
heh ?”

« Phey certainly seem strange to me,’
Englishman.

But interesting ?”

“Very interesting.” :

“Say, there's a queer cuss!” said Gallinger, i giadee
an individual who had swaggered across to the bar from
one of the several doors ae the shack. “Ever ameet up
with him?”

“He doesn’t look exactly queer, x said the Englishman
slowly. as

crah’ oe

“T should call that look wicked.”

“Huh! Ho! ho!’ laughed Gallinger, smiting his knee
mightily. “That’s a good one on Brazos Pete! eo

““Brazos Pete,’ eh?”

oNep. Tes from Brazos, They’ re raisin’ cattle down
there, they tell me; an’ Pete’s been dry -nussin’ steers,
Why, he’s as mild as mother’s milk!”

If this was so, Mr. Brazos Pete’s appearance heted
his reputation, and could have been sued in any court
for defamation of character!

He was a surly, black-browed, swaggering Dente
‘Phere was a lump under his collar at the back which be-
Brazos Pete was one cf

those knife-fighters noted in that aay for being; able to

> admitted , the

i

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

THE BUFFALO

pull the weapon from down his back and fling it with
unerring precision at an antagonist before the latter
could draw a gun and shoot.

“Wait till I call him over here.
teresting,’ declared Gallinger.

The Englishman put out a hand in gesture to stop the
other, but Gallinger had already shouted to the fellow
drinking at the har:

“Pete | 2

The fellow dodged as he turned, and the whisky-glass
in his hand dropped to the floor.

“What th That you, Sport?”

“Guess you was looking for somebody else?” laughed
Gallinger, beckoning Brazos Pete over.

“T wasn’t lookin’ for nobody,” grurnbled Pete, swag-
gering nearer. “But, when I hear a call like that, how d’
I know ’tain’t for a pupposs, eh?”

“What purpose?’ asked the Englishman curiously,
nodding to the shirt-sleeved waiter who at once pre-

 

». sented himself beside the table.

“Why, when yuh want tuh git a good shot at a deer

i yuh call him, so’t he’ll raise his head, an’ yuh kin draw

bead on his white spot. I’ve seen that did more’n once in
a shooting-scrape.”

Anybody who knew Brazos Pete well would have been
hard put to it to have found a “white spot” on him. He
was about.as ornery a scoundrel as ever set foot in Platte
City—and that is saying a good deal!

‘The Englishman found the company not at all to his
taste, for after a round of drinks he rose and bade Gal-
linger and Brazos Pete a curt good night.

“Where away so early, pardner >?” demanded Sport, in
his jovial way, but with his nasty little red eyes nar-
rowing.

“Oh, my room and a pipe appeals ‘to me to- night,”

_ plied the Englishman: easily, and, with a cool a &
Brazos, he swung out of the shack.

It was a well-known fact that the Man with the Yel-
low Diamond lived in a rather quiet hotel on a back
street. Back streets in Platte City were not pleasant
places. In the first instance, there were few, if any,
street lights, and one never knew at night whether he
was bumping up against a friend or an enemy.

The stranger at the neighboring table had noted the
evil glitter of Brazos Pete's eyes as they rested_on the
dangling, sparkling bauble pendent from the English
man’s watch-chain, Now Gallinger’s head and the ruf-
fian’s came together for a briefly whispered oo In-
stantly Brazos Pete rose to depart.

But, with the softness of a cat on the hunt, the stran-
ger, who had taken in the entire proceeding with veiled
interest, slipped into the seat vacated by the Englishman.

“Have a drink with me, gentlemen,” he said suavely,
and beckoned to the waiter.

Sport and Brazos looked at each other one
The latter dropped back into his chair, but at a nudge
from Gallinger he arose again.

“Sorry, mister; I gotter go,” he mumbled.

“Oh, have a drink “frst,” ‘said the stranger insistently.
“Why, Pil take a nip with you, sir,” said Gallinger

easy. > = But my friend here has an engagement.”
“Put it off!” exclaimed the other, slapping Brazos

Pete on the back, possibly with the intention of making

sure just where his bowie lay. “Sit down.’

: Be th

Yow’ll find him in-

BILL STORIES. — o a

“Don’t curse witen a man offers you a drink,” inter:
rupted the jovial stranger.

“T guess this chap’s “been drinkin’, Pete.
‘him. You ro about that business,” said Gallinger coldly.

“You'll sit down here and have a drink, Pete,” said the
stranger, with sudden severity. “‘And you, too, Sport!

Or, if you won’t drink, you'll both sit down, just tlie

same!”

“What th———” began Brazos again.

“T told you not to swear. Keep your hands down!”

The command came sharp as the snap of a blacksnake..
From under the edge of the table appeared just the blue
muzzle of a gun in the stranger’s hand. It. was hidden
from everybody in the room but Gallinger and his com
panion, for the ee bask was turned to the gen-
eral company.

“What the devil’s this—a hold-up?” demanded Gal-
linger, but he was careful not to raise his voice.

Tt you like,

“Who the deuce are you,
able——””

“Tm interfering with a pair of blacklegs,
the other.

“Yuh got th’ drop on us now,”
time ll come!” ;

“Not with me, Pete.”

“Don’t yuh be too blamed sure!
seed yuh before, anyway.”

“hat: you have, returned the stranger, smiling
grimly. “I happened to be one of a posse who saved
you from being hung down in Arkansaw a couple of
years ago for horse- stealing. You were plain Pete Bil-

interfering with peace-

99

interrupted

growled Pete; “but our

lings then, and did not flaunt your reputation as a bad

man to any extent.”

Brazos uttered a fearful oath.

“T know you now!” he muttered.

“Thought T’'d recall myself to your memory. There!
That'll do, Sport!’ he added sharply. “No finger.
work |”

vt Let your gun sone if you know what’s good for
you,” growled. Brazos to his partner.
have th’ chance with this man. I know him.”

“What do you want?” demanded Gallinger shakily.

“For you fellows to sit here and take a drink.”

“How long must we sit here?” |

“Till that young fool of an Englishman has a chance
to get home, ” replied the stranger, smiling. “Now you
know.”

Gallinger and Brazos Pete Billings looked at.one an-
other consciously ; but the former exclaimed, with an air
of much-abused innocence:

“You're a mighty fresh chap, you are! What do you

suppose we care whether the fellow gets home or, not?

You’re butting in where there’s no need.”

“Better be safe than sorry,’ quoted the unknown, slip-
ping his revolver back into his belt, but keeping a sharp
watch upon his two companions.

. The waiter brought drinks.
‘stranger had ordered a “soft” drink for himself. The
other two gloomily tossed off their liquor in silence.

“Say! is this your habit?’ demanded Sport Gallinger, ©

whose rage smoldered.
Ms owhat a habien
. “This holdin’ decent people up! ”
“It has become habitual with:me to interfere when I

see a couple of blacklegs like you and your friend plan-

   
  

mea ore ne ese dine

Vl tend to 7

Seems tuh me I’ve

“Vuh wouldn't -

It was noticeable that the ©

SE RAR SAMS RATE LO lan aumceics

" oe

 
 

4 i

THE BUFFALO

ning a gamte each as this, which, I think, T have put the
cap on.’
“Oh, itis, elit’ snarled Gallinger.

“Not particularly so, my friend.”

“Well, it is!”

“Not in this case,” smiled the unknown, while Brazos’
plucked at Gallinger’s sleeve and whispered :

“Let him erlone, I tell yuh!”

“You're a blanked coward!”
fiercely, turning on his mate.

“No; he isn’t,” said the stranger easily.
wise.’

“Who the Old Harry ate you, anyway ?’’
Gallinger. j

Brazos repeated his nudge. His lips came near the
sporting man’s eat, and he whispered something swiftly.

“Oh—huh!” grunted Gallinger, and sank back in his
chair, still staring at the unknown.

exclaimed Gallinger
“Fe’s merely

demanded

The latter looked at his watch reflectively. Then he —

glanced at the two.men.
-“You can go now, if you like,” he said quietly.

The two got up somewhat sheepishly. The stranger's
hands iting: idly at his sides. They might both have
leaped upon him then, but they did not offer to do so.

Gallinger, as he went past him, stopped for a tho-
ment, however.

' “Mebbe you, an’ me'll see more of each other,” he
said.

“Not if I can help it, Sport.
turned the unknown blandly.

Then the two scoundrels swaggered through the room
and went out.

A little later the man in the buckskin coat arose and
went outside into the main street of Platte City. This
thoroughfare lacked no illumination, for the flaming
windows and yawning entrances of various saloons and
worse dives flung plenty of yellow light into the muddy ,
strech.

Nothing did he see of the two scoundrels whom he
had just worsted by sheer “bluff.” He walked on to-
ward his own sleeping-place.

This, too, happened to be ofi a side street, but not
in the direction in which he happened to know the young
Englishman lived. He turned off the main thorough-
fare, and had not walked three rods when he stumbled
over a body lying on the ground in the dark.

Drunken men—even wounded men, who had been
robbed while in their cups—were not uncommon in
Platte City. But the man could not pass this body by
without examination.

He scratched a match, and, sheltering the flame in his
curved palms, bent down, that he might see the face of
the man he had found. A single glance was sufficient.

“Hal” exclaimed the unknown. “He didn’t go di-
rectly home, after all—the fool!”

‘The unconscious man on the ground was the young
Englishman. There was a nasty mark upon the side of
his head, and blood had run from his ear and coagulated.

Then the man in the buckskin coat lit another match,
and cast its light over the young fellow’s body. His coat
was torn open. The heavy gold chain still crossed his
waistcoat.

“Just as I thought!” muttered the stranger.

The yellow diamond had been torn from the watch-
guard.

I don’t like ‘you,’ re-

“Did it ever strike»
‘you that it might be a dangerous habit?”

~

BILL STORIES.

 

CHAPTER II. |
WANTED? A FOOL.

Having convinced himself of the identity of the

wounded man, and of the loss of the valuable gem that

~ he had so unwisely displayed, the man in the. fringed

coat stood upright and glanced hastily about him. The
street was narrow and gloomy, but somg rods ahead was
a light. He knew it was the lantern which marked the
entrance to a stnall hotel.

He was about to stoop and gather the unconscious
man in his arms—big as he was—when he was hailed
suddenly in a low voice, and in a tone of stern command,
from a point in the darkness near at hand.

“Don’t do it!” exclaimed a gruff voice. “I got yuh
covered, yuh tatnal varmint! One o yuh knocked th’
poor devil on th’ head, an’ now you’ve come Be tuh
rob him, heh?’ I—guess—=not!”

“And I guess not, too, old man,” said the stranger
easily, but standing very quietly, knowing very well that 4
the speaker had him covered and that the slightest sous @
of his moving would be the signal for a deadly shot.

‘Jumpin’ Jerusha ! !” exclaimed the man in the shadow.

“Jest yuh speak ag’in, mister!”
“Joe, you ought to ‘be ashamed of yourself, attacking
people in this way.’

“Buffer! Waal, Vl be hanged Ie

“You will be unless you are more careful,” Pobsended
the other cheerfully. “Come, give me a harid.’

“Jumpin’ Jerusha!” repeated the gruff voice. “|
thought you was sure the other feller come back tuh rob
th’ corpse.”

“The man who knocked this lad over, you mean?”

“Nop. That feller run th’ other way. But there was

-a man with him, who waited at the corner yonder.”

“You saw it all?” :

“Yep. But it was too late to warn this poor chap, atid
I didn’t see any use in making a row and getting into a
mess myself. So I waited.”

While he spoke he came close to the prostrate figure
and the man with whom he was talking. But it was so
dark in the lane that the owner of the uncouth voice
could not be well distinguished.

“How did it happen ? ?” asked the man in the fringed
coat.

“Why, this lad was coming through the alley here,
whistling and swinging along like there warn’t a thing
tuh be afeared of.”

“You could see him?”

“Purty well.”

“Old sharp eyes!’ exclaimed the other admiringly.
“You can see better than a wolf in the dark, Joe.”

“Butter than them varmints—or I wouldn't have so
many of their scalps. tuh my credit,” and the gruff voice
broke into a series of throaty chuckles.

‘Well: Pe?

“Oh, about this feller? Why, I didn’t notice the chap
behind him until the blow was struck—it was a heavy
swat with a sand-bag, I reckon. Down he drops, an’
I see another man peering arotind that corner just where
the light is yon.”

“1 see,

“He whistled sharplike, and the man what dropped the
lad, although he stooped as though he was intendin’ tuh

‘rob him, jumps up and runs.

oP

“Thinks I: ‘Tl stop awhile an’ see what follers.

 

 

 

 
   
  
 
  
  
   
   
   
 
    
     
  
    

THE BUFFALO

| Mebbe them. varmints will come back. So when you

come erlong an’ began tuh light matches v
| “You were for cutting loose and popping me over, eh,
@ old son?”

a “lf yuh hadn’t give a good account of yuhself, I’d
shore done it.”

~“Where’s your shack, Joe?” the other asked, after a
moment.

e “Jest beyant here.”

@ “lake his legs.”

a “Hold_on!. We ain’t got time ter fool with him. Bet-
ter knock somebody up ter look after him, if yuh think
it’s wuth while.”

oof do,” : :

Amt he dead?

“He’s wotth a dozen dead men.”

“Well, I reckoned yuh was in suthin’ of a hurry, Buf-
Hera :

‘So 1] arm, Joe.) :

“Then let’s knock up the hotel people.”

.““No. I want to ’tend to him myself. I want him.”

“What! <A dern fool like him, that ’u’d go whistlin’
trough this street-——”

_“Didn’t I tell you I was looking for a fool—that I
wanted a fool badly enough to pay good wages to him?”

“Huh! I suppose that’s why yuh made me the offer
yuh did?”

“Exactly:

“Waal, I like that!’

“T want a man—several men, in fact—who are so fool-
ish that they don’t know what fear is.’

“And this chap?”

“T think he’s one.

see.” .
“Huh!” grunted the other, and bent to the task.
It was no slight one. The first man would have found
“tt-difficult’ to have carried the big-boned Englishman.
He was well framed, with plenty of muscle, and a solid
ity that asstired these, good Samaritans that he weighed
well over the two-hundred mark.

In a darker lane off the dark street the two with their
‘burden stopped before the door of a low shack. Had
one of them, as he said, not possessed eyes sharper than
those of the night-prowling denizens of the forest and
prairies, they would never have discovered this place.
The Englishman was dropped, and the sharp-eyed one
went inside and lit a smoky lamp. Then the uncon-
scious man was brought in and laid upon a rude bunk
at one side. The man in the fringed coat looked about
the single-roomed shanty and smiled. ~
“This is as homelike as a barn, old man.”

“Huh!” grunted the other non-committingly.

Fe was revealed now as a wity old fellow, bushily
whiskered, what skin of his face was bate being like
wrinkled parchment, with sparkling, glittering eyes un-

 

 

Come on! Give mea lift and we'll

finished at the top with a coonskin scap, the tail of the
animal hanging down upon his shoulders. —

He was not a nice person to look upon. Dirt seemed
to be grimed into his cracked and calloused hands, and
now that he was in the small room and the door was
shut, an unpleasant odor was emanated from his cloth-
Ing. :
“Paugh!’ exclaimed the other man.
here, old man.” .
“Yuh don’t like my hang-out, eh?’

“You're close in

#

a hotel, and I don’t feel free under a ruff, noways!” 4

der pent-house brows, and dressed in a mangy skin suit,

BILL STORIES. co 5

“Vm not in love with it. There ought to be a law
to keep you wolfers out in the open all the time, Joe.
Yotre: net civilized.”

“That’s true enough. An’ I hate the city, anyway,”
snarled the skin-covered man. “They won’t let me in at i

The other man set to work upon the unconscious Eng- :
lishman with practised hand. He put a cold-water com- a
press on his head, while the old man brewed some herbs
over a tiny fire on the hearth and made a strong in-
fusion which he set aside for the injured man to drink
when he aroused.

That result was not attained for some hours, however.
Finally, when the Englishman painfully opened his eyes,
he found only the man in the fringed coat in the room,
the other having withdrawn.

“What-—-— Well, they got me!” muttered the young
fellow.

“They got you.” 3 |

“Take everything I had ?”

“They took nothing but your diamond.” .

At that the Englishman half-started to a sitting pos-
ture, but he fell back, with a groan.

“Better keep still—and drink this.”

The injured man drank the concoction and then laid
back on the pillow.

“I'd forgotten all about that,” he whispered.

“Forgotten about what?’

“The—the diamond.”

“Well—ahem! I reckon you’re one of the men I’m
looking for!’ exclaimed the other.

The Englishman did not notice this statement.
mind was still too greatly confused.

“I suppose it was a great temptation,” he said.

“An heirloom?”

“It belonged to my mother’s family. It came to me
from her estate. I am only a younger son, you know,’
explained the Englishman simply. |

His listener happened to be well informed, and knew
what the statement implied. ©

“You're not particularly well off, Itake itr”. he said.

“Not at all. I was looking about here in your great
West, hoping for an opening.”

“And wearing a diamond worth a fortune, eh?”

Evidently the young man did not fancy such blunt re- i
marks. He closed his eyes. But the other pursued:

“Why didn’t you sell the diamond. before you were
robbed of it?” : '

“Why! I wouldn't sell it! Er—that is—I never |
thought of such a thing!’ he added. i

“But it’s gone now.” :

“Do you know who took it?”

“I have my suspicions.” —

“T saw you at Jake Kinstry’s.
sporty chap and his friend i.

“Why didn’t you go home, as-you said you were go
ing to?” demanded the other man. “I held Sport Gal s
linger and his pard until I thought you were safe a

“You did |?

“T knew they were after your valuables. And it seetns
they got the stone.”

“You don’t know that they did?’

“No. But it’s pretty certain.”

“That yellow diamond is, a8 you surmise, very valu-
able. And it will be a very hard gem to sell. They'll
make little out of it here. It is catalogued with every;

 

His

 

Do you think that i

 

 

}

Waco cp teen lw een meth han tig
ui we

 

hee ch A ca pe =

 
 

6 | THE BUFFALO

big gem-dealer in the world. It is famous. An ancestor
of mine, four generations back, brought it from Burmah.
Those fellows can’t sell it.”

“And you'd like to get it back, I suppose?”

“Well, rather, don’t you know! And-I will!” ex-
claimed the Englishman, with emphasis.

“Td like to know just how you propose to go about
ite

OLAR find that Gallinger i in the morning, and make. him
give it up.”
_ “Walk up to him and ask him for it, I suppose?”

“T will, indeed, sir!”
ue On, if you can’t find him, you'll tackle Brazos Pete?”

“Vou mean the blackeuard he introduced me to?”

“That's the chap.”

“Why, certainly!”

The older man looked the Englishman over with some-
thing like admiration in his eyes.

“I say,’ he exclaimed, “‘you are the fellow I want!”

“IT don’t understand you?” said the other, puzzled.

“T’m looking for a fellow just like you—several like
you, in fact. You say you are looking for an opening.
I can offer you a hundréd dollars a month, your horse,
saddle, blankets, and grub thrown in.’

cr P2

“If you don’t object to a trip into the Black Hills?”

‘Td thought of going. . But I’ve had no experience,
you understand. Though I can shoot.”

“You're just the man I want!” declared the other,
smiting his hand upon his knee.

“Why am I so particularly fitted for this work you
have to offer, sir?” asked the Englishman.
“Because I want a fool—and you fill the bill? was the
frank, if unexpected, reply.

 

CHAP HR IU

WHAT BECAME OF THE YELLOW DIAMOND.

“You have the advantage of me, sir!” exclaimed the
Englishman, after a moment’s silence.

“Oh, my name’s Cody,” said the other blandly.

“Hah! You misunderstand me. I was not inquiring
for your name-——”

“Oh, well, it relieves the situation always for folks to
be introduced.” interrupted Mr. Cody.

“You mistake me again. I did not wish jto know
your name. J doubt if I care to know you at all. But
if I was not laid by the heels in this way, sir, you'd an-
swer to me for the statement you just made!”

There was no doubt but that the Englishman was

angry ; CoD, however, smiled.

“T am taking something of a liberty, I know,” he re-
marked, -“But | like roe liked you from the moment
I first set eyes on you, several days ago.”

The Englishman’s countenance showed vast surprise.

“You have been watching me?”

“Casually before this evening. This evening with
intent. You fitted my-idea of

“Of a fool?’

“Of the kind of a man I am looking for. I want a
man who is so great a fool that he is not staggered by
danger when it faces him and doesn’t know the meaning
of fear. I believe you are one of that kind.”

“You are sugar-coating your insult, sir!” exclaimed

the man in the bunk,

 

him.

BILL STORIES.

“T’m sure 1 didn’t meant to,” langhed Cody. “When
you are better acquainted with me, if you really want
satisfaction because I intimated that you were a fool,
why, I’ll give it to you.”

“TI suppose it would better become me if [ Mratked
you for bringing me into this place and attending me,
Mr. Cody?”

“Perhaps,
prise.”

“Rhi ???

“He has gone out.”

“Oh, your friend?”

“Ves, He is another of the fools I have €ngaged for
this enterprise.”

“You speak as though yyou were sure of me, sir!” ex-
claimed the’ Englishman, with some asperity.

“And am I nots”

“No, sir! My first duty on’ rising from this bed ‘is
to find the scamp ae stole my diamond. And I shall
find him!”

“But you'll have time to talk with me after that?” »

The other’s vexation was not proof against such good
nature. He finally laughed. —

“Well, well, Mr. Cody!
and go hack to my hotel.
later.”

“Very well, Mr. ;

“Mirrivale—Arthur Mirrivale.”

“Happy to make your acquaintange, Mr. Mirrivale—
not under these circumstances, however.”

“Tf you'll help me——”

“T’ll go to yotir hotel with you. It’s pretty nearly
morning, but you are rather shaky on your underpinning
etn.

d ‘he Englishman admitted this fact when he got out
of the*bunk. His head still swam and he was some-
what nauseated. . But after Cody had flung open.thelvor
and the chill wind from the prairies blew upon him he
began to feel better. He was glad to lean upon Cody's
arm the entire distance to his hotel, however.

“Tust out of curiosity, Mr. Mirrivale, Td like to ask
how you expect to trace your diamond?” said the Amer-
ican, before leaving the young man in his room.

“Oh, P'll take a bath, don’t you know, and maybe a
sleep, and, after gefting up again, Dll feel all right.
Then Vl go out and hunt for that Sport fellow—I know
Have often seen him hanging about these dens.”

‘Phat is; if, he

Although I had a partner in that enter-

Let: me-see if 1 can get up
Tl listen to your proposition

 

“You'll find him at Kinstry’s—yes.
hasn't left town.”

"hats whats presume, Mr.-Cody”

“And you'll walk.up to him and ask him for the
diamond ?”

“T shall speak to him—yes.”

“Do you go armed, Mr. Mirrivale?”

“Do I carry, what you fellows over here call a ‘oun,’
do you mean?’

“That is what I mean.”

“Why, no, sir! I’ve never seen the good of that.”

“Before accusing a man in this town of robbery—
whether he be innocent or guilty—pack a gun, Mr. Mir-
rivale—pack a gun |” exclaimed the aa and left
him abruptly.

Aside from a desire to engage the young Beek
in a venture which needed just such reckless souls to
carry it through successfully, Cody was interested in
Mirrivale. The -young Englishman was so big, and

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
THE BURP ALO

» clean, and frank an animal that the border man had “cot-
toned” to him at once.

» Cody had already sent the old wolf-hunter on a: still
m hunt for Sport Gallinger and Brazos Pete. Later the
) old fellow made his report. —

» ‘“Sumpin’ funny “bout them two. varmints, Buffler.
' They had a row in one of the saloons airly this mornin’,
» Brazos knocked Sport galley-west, and now he’s lit out,
He’s j/ined a wagon-train headed by a man named Nu-
gents,

“Not Sam Nugent?” exclaimed Cody.

“The same.”

“Sam’s gone, then?”

UN opp:

“Well, we've got to move ourselves pretty soon,” Cody
» muttered: Aloud he said: “So Brazos went with Nu-
gent?”

“Hired ter him as hunter, so I understand,” and the
| wolfer showed a row of yellow stumps in.a broad smile.
“He'll make a healthy hunter, he will!”
eels Sport badly hurtt”

“Guess not, Buffler. But he’s got a sweet-lookin’ eye.”

“So they quarreled?’” muttered Cody.

But he made no further audible comment upon the old
man’s report. To himself, however, he said:

‘Now, which of those rascals got the yellow diamond?
If Brazos knocked Mirrivale down, it seems reasonable
that he took it. Joe saw him stooping over the man be-
_ fore his companion warned him to run.

“That is—if it was Brazos and Gallinger who made
the attack upon the young man. And it might not have
been. They believed he was bound directly to his hotel,
and he would lave been safely there before I let them
leave Kinstry’s,

“Lintess ‘hey happen to stumble upon him, how did

‘vere to look for the fool? Deep question,

net both Sport and Brazos Pete be inno-

“Half a hundred thugs have seen that diamond. Won-

der is that the boy hadn’t lost it before.

man to tackle, that’s all. And then, perhaps, everybody
didn’t realize the value of the stone.”

Cody, however, had matters of greater importance on
his mind than the welfare of Arthur Mirrivale, tender-
foot “Britisher.” It was not until night that he thought
of the fellow again. Then, remembering what the boy
had threatened to do, he dropped around to Jake Kin-
stry’s place. |

Neither Mirrivale nor Sport Gallinger were present,
but the latter came in while Cody sat placidly smoking
his cigar. He favored the scout with a scowl and went
to the bar. He was not quite steady on his legs and
one of his eyes was certainly in mourning.

Finally he staggered down the room and sat down at
the table next to Cody. He looked ugly—about as ugly
as a man could look and not bite! But Cody leaned
over and tapped him on the arm.

“Well, so you and Brazos Pete had a falling out, I
understand?” he said cheerfully.

“Mind your business, or you'll have a falling out—of
your chair!’ growled Sport, not at all the jolly, cheerful
soul he usually was.

“My! It is serious, is it?”

Sport scowled at him and cursed under his breath.

“And Pete got away with the ‘sparkler, did he? You'd
ought to have known he’d do you dirt if he could. I

He looks a bad >

BILL STORIES, — »

knew him when he was a horse-thief down in Arkansaw _
—and I told you so.” .

Viole ie

Sport began some kind of a highly spiced reply, but
he halted suddenly, his eyes fixed upon a figure that had
just entered the room. It was that of Mirrivale, his
head tied up in a handkerchief, and, although his face
was rather pale, his eyes blazed as they sought Gallin-
ger’s corner and lighted upon the Sport. .

Cody heard the fellow breathe hard as Mirrivale strode
down the room toward him. And the scout was not the
only person who observed the coming together of the
two—the Englishman and the fat-jowled Gallinger.

A silence fell over, that end of the place. Those who
were “in range” slipped carefully aside. There was a
clear lane left for them.

Suddenly, as though he had just come to life, Sport
Gallinger leaped up. With the motion he drew his gun,
He presented it fair at the breast of the unarmed, stri-
ding Englishman!

But Mirrivale did not as much as hesitate. He was
already almost within reach of the scoundrel. His right
arm was already outstretched when Sport moved.

That hand fell—and upon the gun-barrel! Before
Sport could pull the trigger Mirrivale had “broken” the
revolver, and the six cartridges clattered to the floor in
a shower. The, trick was so cleverly and unexpectedly
performed that the bystanders were held speechless for
a minute. Then a chorus of cheers broke out, and the
men crowded around. | i

Mirrivale glanced around in vexation.

“Youll excuse me, gentlemen, but I have a word to
say in private to this fellow,” he observed. Then he saw
Cody sitting by, and nodded to him. “Can I ask you to
go with us, Mr. Cody?” he said.

“T’m your man,” said the American.

“T ain't going anywhere!’ growled Gallinger.

“Come with us,” said Mirrivale’ quietly, ‘or I’ll beat
you to a pulp!’ se
Gallinger changed his mind upon hearing this.

They took him into a side room which could be shut
against the curious of the crowd, and there Mr,. Sport
Gallinger was put through a season of questioning that
made his very soul sweat, But the result was not satis-
factory to Mirrivale. At least, it did not result in the
finding of the yellow diamond. |

Short of the verbosity of dialogue, Gallinger was made
to admit that he had “heard of the accident to Mr. Mir-
rivale.” Indeed, in his evident wrath at Brazos Pete
Billings, he admitted that Brazos Pete had probably
struck the blow that had laid the Englishman out. But
whether Pete had robbed the unconscious man or not, he
declared he did not know. At least, it was plain that
Gallinger himself did not have the yellow diamond, nor
did he know for certain where the jewel was.

Mirrivale let him go. Then he turried to Cody.

“T’m the more convinced that he doesn’t know, because
I learned from a man to whom I did a favor the other
day that the black eye Sport is showing was the result
of a quarrel between him and Brazos, in which both of
the men accused the other of ‘doing’ him in some recent
transaction. There is a doubt in my mind if either of
them have my diamond.’ '

This was not a pleasant thought to Mr. Cody. He
shook his head thoughtfully. Wolfer Joe claimed to

y
b

 

 

 

incertae ht ti cer ater inate
5 : ie eo
r

 

Bhar sherri otik oer et eer mea memainnes evade

 
8 -. | THE BUFFALO

have seen the blow struck which laid Mirrivale low, and
nobody but Brazos Pete had been near the body of the
Englishman—unless _ it were the wolfer himself! |

ret

CHAPTER. TV,
THE PINK BUTTE CLAIM.

“Well, Mr. Mirrivale,’ ” asked Cody, at length, “what
do you propose doing about cr

“T am convinced, at least, that Sport Gallinger hasn't
my diamond. But I must be positive as well regarding
this Brazos man. He’s gone away, I’m told.” |

“Started with Sam Nugent’s train this morning.”

“He’s not far on the road, then. Ill overtake him.”

“He has gone as a hunter. He'll forage way ahead of
the train for game. You might not be able to catch him
if you went half the way to Pink Battie,’

“To where? | .

“Pink Butte. That’s where Sam is Bound although
it is not generally known, And it is where 1 am bound,”
added Cody significantly. thy

“Vou are going to the same destination as this train
Brazos joined?”

Slam

“You spoke se this morning ahi wishing to
engage me in some venture, Mr. Cody?”

Ukhis asthe: venture,”

od tis

“To reach Pink Butte.”

you will be behind this other train?”

“I’m going to get there before Sam—and, naturally,
before Brazos Pete—or I sha’n’t get there at all,” said
Cody. decidedly.

(Mi. Cody,” said the Englishman quietly, “I have

made some inquiries about you. I understand you are—
or have been—-an army scout, and that you are famous
for your hunting exploits and for your work among the
Indians. They ‘call you, I believe—er —Buffalo Bill?”

“Some people call me that. The Indians call me Long
Hair. And some bad men I’ve run up against call me
anything they can lay their tongues to—beh rind my back,”
and Buffalo Bill laughed good naturedly.

gos what is this venture that you are so desirous
of getting men for?’

“Tl tell you,’ Cody. said quietly; and, after See
sure that the door of the little room dered no chance’

for eavesdropping, he told the following tale:

Gold had been found more than two years before in the
Black Hills. And it was first discovered by patfies of
hunters and trappegs, rather than prospectors.

One of the first strikes made was at Pink Butte.
: party got cut considerable gold, and then the Indians
’ chased them-out. Only two reached the Platte alive—
and with the goid. One of them was killed in a saloon
row. He didn’t die instantly, but lingered in fever and
delirium for a week; and, before he died, babbled some
pretty plain directions as to how to find the claim at Pink
Butte.

A man named Sam Nusent was one -of those who
watched this fellow, and eased his last hours. He treas-

make ’em. They’re not so treacherous as the Dakotas —
or Sioux, as they’re commonly called. But they’re pretty

dangerous route?”

The

keep out of fights between now and to-morrow evening.

  

BILL STORIES.

     

 

ured up the man’s babblings. He tried to pump his
partner, a man named Prevost, but Prevost was foxy.

  

Prevost knew that some time a way would be opened
toch the hostiles to Pink Butte. He bided his time—
and so did Sam Nugent. Finally the southern trail was
struck into the Black Hills, and Nugent got up a party to
go by that route and then cut across to: Pink Butte at
a certain point on the trail. ,

PN rg a ee ng

 

 

“Prevost,” said Cody at this point in the story, “has
been making his preparations for more than a year. [
know Prevost; he’s a square man. He’s got up a party,
and they've gone into partnership in proper form, and
they’re going up there to hold that claim: But they .
couldn’t get started’ as soon as ee see, he’s
gone already. 4

“But there’s a way to get to Pink Butte over a much ff
shorter route,” pursued Cody. “I have been that ware
It’s through the desert—the sand-hill desert—but it’s [7
passable, if——”

“lt what?”

“Tf the Injuns don’t say “No!”

“Oh, it’s through the Indian country?”

“Very much so.” |

“Are—are they very hostile?”

“They’re a tribe of Kickapoos-—and as wild as they

 

 

 

 

 

 

ugly just now. There’s something going on among them
internal trouble—that’s makin’ ‘em mighty touchy.
It’s a row over the succession of the chieftainship, t, be-
eV e.. |

“And you propose to fead he Prevost party by. this

“lf it can be done.”

You are looking for men to guard the train! ”

“You've hit it exactly, Mr. Mirrivale.”

“And you're quite sure of getting through ahead of
that Sam Nugent and his party?”

“Tf we get through at allyes.’

“Then I’m your man—at a hundred of your dollars a
month and found,’ declared Mirrivale, thereby showing
that he had. paid close attention to what Cody had pre-
viously said to him.

“By Jove!” exclaimed. the scout, wringing his hand
warmly. “I wasn’t mistaken in you.”

 

 

 

   
   
   
 

“Oh, no; I’m just the sort of a fool you fone me for,”
said the Tian dryly... “And, besides, I want an
interview-—a heart-to-heart talk —with that Brazos Pete.”

“Right!” said Cody, rising from his seat. “Please

  
  
  
   

Come to me then. The Prevost party starts the follow-
ing day, and, as I am supposed, with my men, to supply
the larder with fresh meat, we will make an early start
ahead of the teams.”

‘Incthat day most companies -of emig

   
   
 

rants in crossing

     
   

  

the plains appointed a certain number of scouts and hunt-
ers to attend them. If the party of emigrants were old

  

cy pioneers and had been over the route before, the captain
~ | of the train could easily pick out the best men for this
~ -F work. But in the case of the Prevost expedition to Pink
| Butte, the men were, most of them, “tenderfeet.” Alex-
: ander Prevost was Scotch, and he had clannishly gath-
) ered together men of his own nationality—shrewd, hard-
‘S [} headed men who have made some of the best pioneer
! " . stock this country has ever had, yet in this case they were
yy [| all greenhorns.
4 \ Knowing Cody, and cippeaney to meet him, “foot-
Y | loose” on the street at Platte City, and learning that he

was about starting for the West and North anyway,

  

a path that would enable it to reach Pink Butte in ad-
vance of Sam Nugent’s expedition: Prevost knew just
how rich the placer claim at Pink Butte was, being one
of the two men who had located it. But in these early
days, unless a man stayed by his claim—and sometimes
fough for it—his title was valueless. If the Nugent
‘crowd reached Pink Butte, and Sam was able to locate
the ground in which Prevost and his dead partner had
found such rich “pay-dirt,” he and his crew would have
right and title to the claim, and Prevost would be shut
out.

The game was worth a desperate play.
perate play to attempt to cross the lands of the Kicka-
poos, and Cody had told Prevost so plainly.

  
   
   
  
   
    
  
    
  
  
  
  

party of tenderfeet to urge the attempt showed more
pluck and daring than good sense.

  
  

The scout knew that one of two things would. happen.
Either he would be able to bluff their way through the
Indian lands without a shot being fired, or else they
would be obliged to fight, and fight desperately. There-
fore, ‘the men he hired to help guard the train must be
absolutely fearless men, and men not squeamish about
entering upon what seemed, upon the face of it, to be an
almost hopeless attempt.

 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

_ The Kickapoos at this time were peculiarly disturbed.

‘During the Civil War most of the tribe—which had
years before joined Tecumseh against General William
Henry Harrison, of Tippecanoe, and were prominent as
a fighting tribe until their great defeat by General Zach-
ary Taylor, at Fort Harrison—had fled into Mexico
from the reservation in which they had been herded for
some years by the United States troops. Originally of
the great Algonquin family, the Kickapoos had inhab-
ited the upper Mississippi country. After being so thor-
oughly beaten by General Taylor, they agreed to give up
their lands east of the Mississippi and accepted a reser-
vation in Kansas, on the Osage River.

   
  
  
  
 
    
  
  
  
  

After the Civil War the government sent agents down
into Mexico and brought all but 176 members of the

 

 

THE BUFFALO

1 Prevost had hired him to guide and guard his train over rated to be in any degree a picnic.

It was a des-

Cody was
_ well used to taking such risks—and greater—but for a ~

vost wagons were making ready. for departure.

tribe back. That small ney escaped into the hills, and

live there to this day, having increased to the number of
about five hundred, and being very wealthy and prosper- —

ous. The Kickapoos brought back to their old ranges
were not contented, and had split up into migratory
bands, which the soldiers found great difficulty in keep-
ing under control. .Two years before a large number of
the Kickapoos had raided up into the sand-hill country,
and had remained there. There wete too many other dis-
turbances for Uncle Sam to attend to them just then.
And, holding their lands as they did without authority,
the renegades were all the more jealous of any white
man crossing the territory they claimed.

So Cody did not expect the trip about to be inaugu-
Seasoned. Indian-
fighters were not plentiful about Platte City. He had
run against the wolf-hunter by chance, for the old fellow
had only wandered thus near civilization to get some
new traps and ammunition and a fresh supply of the
poison which he used so extensively in his business.

Besides the old-wolfer and Mirrivale,.Cody knew that
he could depend upon Prevost himself, if it came to a
fight, and at least three of his friends—likewise Scotch-
men, and all of whom had smelled powder during the
“late unpleasantness” between the North and the South.
Aiter studying the matter pro and con, the scout decided
that quantity in his little army was of less importance than
quality. He had seen few men hanging about Platte
City that he cared to invite to join the expedition. Be-
sides, the smaller the party, the less attention they would
attract en route; and they could not afford, nor did Pre-
vost wish, a large enough crowd to keep the Indians at
a distance.

He reported to the Scotchman, therefore, that he had
found two men, and considered them sufficient. There
were four heavy schooners, drawn by six mules each.
They would form a hollow square with these wagons
each night, keeping the mules inside, if necessary, and
fortify the camp in that way. There were sheet-iron
tanks under each wagon for carrying water. The camp
would be able to stand a considerable siege, if worse
came to worst.

“All richt, ma mannie,”’ declared the bewhiskered Scot

—-a brawny man of some six feet three and with a
brogue so thick that you could cut it—‘all richt, ma
mannie.
mon thocht knows th’ fear of naether God nor mon—nor
th’ deil himsel’—ye will bring us safe through, if ony one
Cail /
Mirrivale arrived at Cody’s hotel in the evening. He
had sent his kit of clothes to the place where the Pre-
Avie
scout had for him a splendid mustang and Mexican
saddle, rope, pistols for the holsters, a seven- ‘shot car-
bine, blankets, and a small camp kit.

BILL “STORIES. Oo

Aw know ye of old, Cody, an’ though ye air a:

 

  
  
  

    
 

To. | X THE BUFFALO

“And there’s a hundred dollars in gold to bind the

bargain,” said Cody, slapping the broad coins down upon

the table before the Englishman.

“Twenty: pound—my word!’ murmured Mirrivale.
“Really, the first money I ever earned, don’t you know—
and, by Jove, I haven’t earned that yet!”

“You will.”

“You give it me.so that I won't back out for a month,
anyway, eh, Mr. Cody?”

“No,” returned Buffalo Bill grimly. “I’m giving . to
you in advance because I may not be able to pay yee a
. month hence.”

“Meaning that either you or I may ‘cash in, as you
Ameritans put it?” eee Mirrivale oo

» Or both of us,

“Then, if you believed that, you would be better look:
ing after your employer’s interest by not paying me in
advance,” said the young man, undisturbed.

“You'll do!” cried Cody, smiting him on the shoulder.
“There | Bunk down there on that couch. I’ve papers
to. look over and letters to write before | turn in, . And
we must make an early start.”

Indeed, it was still black night when the scout routed
the Englishman out and they went down into the inn
yard and saddled their horses. Cody led a third saddled
horse by the bridle, and they rode through the streets in
search of Wolfer Joe’s shack.

When they came to it, their horses’ hoofs ringing
loudly on the stones, a light from the window of an
open public house across the way revealed the wolfer
lying on his blanket in front of his door.. The old fellow
sat up, broad awake, when. Cody and Mirrivale ap-
proached. :

_ “What's the matter, old man?” demanded Buffalo Bill.
“Were you afraid we'd get by without your know-
ing it?”

“Nop. °Twarn’t that. But I tell yeh, Buffler, I can’t
noways sleep peaceable under a ruff.”

SYou cantl’

“No, sir-ree! I tried it. I tried ter be civilized. But
I’m an ol Injun, an’ that’s all there is to it.”

“What did you hire that shack for, then?”

“Ter keep me plunder in. Folks ain’t honest in this
yere town, an’ yuh hater lock things up. So I cached
me goods and critters here e

“Not your pack-mules !”

“Shore I did! It’s good enough for the varmints!’”’

“No wonder the house stunk so the other night!” ex-
claimed Cody, in vast amusement. “You gave the mules
the house and you slept in the street, eh?”

Snore.”

_ “Well, come on,” said the scout. “Pack up and we'll
light out.. You can leave your mules and plunder with
Prevost, and mee come along all fight with the
wagons,”

 

i Z

ready to vamose.

BILLY STORIES:

‘Richt!’ exclaimed the old wolf-hunter.- “I’m al
The landlord of this yere shack was
around to-day, and said he’d be obleeged tuh me if |

19
-got out.

“TI should think he would!’ muttered Mirrivale,:as
Wolfer Joe opened the door and led two sorry-looking
pack-mules out of the place. The old man mounted upon
the led horse and the pack-mules fell in behind the cay-
alcade as it clattered through the town.

 

CHAPTER V.
THE QUEEN OF THE KICKAPOOS.

The sun, as it rose behind three horsemen of the plains,
sent the shadows of horses and men shooting across the
grassy levels until the reflections were attenuated carica-
tures of the moving objects themselves. The orth

fork of the Platte, and Platte City, and the outer verge |

of civilization, indeed, lay behind. It was the second
day’s march of the expedition bound for Pink Butte, and
under the management of Alexander Prevost.

Far in the rear, just appearing out of a shallow coulée,
wound the wagon-train itself.
started on in advance, ostensibly to hunt antelopes, but
really Cody did not know how soon Indian signs might
turn up.

The raucous voices of the mule-drivers floated to the
eats of the three horsemen, whose mounts pattered over
the sward with little noise, The leading wagon, had

got stuck, and on this thin air, though so distant, there.

could be distinctly heard the profane remarks of the
driver as he told the six long-eared quadrupeds—and
evetybody else within hearing distance—just what a
thought of them!

“T declare I never heard a Aha tiae Scotchman before,”
said Mirrivale, shaking his head.

“He’s not a Scotchman at present, ” chuckled ous

“Not a Sa a

No, “sit!” :

“His name’s Macaleer. What is he, then?” —

“Fe’s a mule-driver. And a mule is only amenable
to a blacksnake whip and profanity.”

“Well, it’s horrible® said Mirrivale, as another tirade
came faintly, but distinctly, across the plains. “Tf we're
attacked by Indians, ee not let that man go out and
swear at them?”

“Swearing! Profanity!
on the other side.
stranger ?”

“Well, I’ve eae oe on Hoare Hill. blasphese
but this fellow——

“Come, now! yuh don’t honest all that yere attempt
profanity, do yuh?” interposed Joe.

“What do you call it?”

“Why, it’s th’ murmur of low, laughin’ water. It’s

Huh!” erunted Wolfer Joe,
“Yuh don’t call that cussin’, do yuh,

4

 

The three hunters had .

 

  

    
   
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
   
     

 

 
  

 

   
  
  
  
  
  

   
   
   
    
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
  

    
  
     
 

TEE BURP ALO

 

ll a th’ south wind whisperin’ through th’ trees. It’s th’
as MPlowin’ of an old mooley-cow in a barn-yard at milkin’-
[ @itime. Why, that! It’s a Say! did ever yuh hear of

|) Wildcat Bob Simon of th’ Corrinne Trail ?”

| “I never did,’ admitted the Englishman.

“You know him, Buffler?’” pursued Joe.

“I’ve both heard of him and heard him,” oe Cody,
Svith a smile.

je then yuh’ll bear me out when I say that this yere
) Macaleer ain’t a puling infant ’side o’ Wildcat w’en it
i : comes tuh jugglin’ with th’ English langwidge.

' “Tell yuh what they say happened one time,” pursued
the old man, with a devout wink at Cody, “when Wild-
at Bob was freighting for the Anderson Brothers when
hey started their stores at the Snake River Crossing.
Ther was a bunch of: tough citizens in that string of
atile-handlers, now, and don’t yuh forget it!

* _ And no man can manage mules ’nless he kin manage
th’ English langwidge fust,’ declared Joe philosophic-
Bally. “Mules look for it. They need it like er oy
' needs th’ bottle. And when Wildcat got a-goin’ he
could lay out mule-talk that'd make yuh hair curl—it
shore would!

 
  
  
 

 
 

 

 

 
 

  

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

S ‘Waal, this time th’ cook of th’ freighting-crew was
framing up, as a pertic ‘lar treat, a fine mess o corn-
starch puddin’ for th’ drivers one night when Wildcat
| Bob happens erlong.’ While lighting his pipe, Bob, not
seein’ where he was a-goin’, walked inter th’ outstandin’
tangz1e of (hy) Sook-wagon, and tumbled over it onto his
» fire from his pipe sprinkled over th’
ee “itt and burned him. Wildcat picked his-
self up, brushed th’ sparks from his shirt, picked up
the pipe, refilled it, lit it, and got it going right, and
then, sittin’ down on that air waggin-tongue, he started
| to uncoil some of his idees respectin’ people, meanin’
_ hisself, that didn’t know ernough ter walk eround with-
out fallin’ over things. He as mad-an’ he was sore.
He had what an Eastern sharp what come out yere oncet
from a college called an ‘immense vocabulary’—I b’lieve
that were th’ word.

 

 

So SE ON Sa

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Howsomever, Wildcat cut loose and jest spilled over
th’ bile that had gathered in him ’count o’ that header
over th’ waggin-tongue. Now, ha’f.a minute b’fore th’
cook, who was stirring that big, fine mess o’ puddin’,
had tasted it, and he'd found it as sweet as any one’d
want; but when Wildcat had got well inter th’ swing of
his reproachful remarks th’ cook took ernother taste of

    
 
  
  
 

 

 

 

It shore had!

“Now that, Mister Britisher, is what yuh might call
profanity—high- class an’ e- -fective,” concluded old Joe,
with another wink at the amused Cody.

Mirrivale had stared at the dirty old fellow while the
story was being related, with the most childish expres-
sion of wonder on his own face. Now he said:

der-storm !

 

 

   
   
 

     

 

 

that puddin’, an’ it had curdled like new milk i ina thun-

     
 

BILE STORIES. “ II

“Why, sir, I presume you’d call this gentleman—er—
Wildcat Simon

“Wildcat Bob Simon—yep.”

“You'd call him the champion ee of these
Western trails?”

“He shore was!” admitted Wolfer Joe.

“And who,” asked the Englishman softly, “and _ iS
considered to be the champion liar?”

At that Cody broke into a shout of laughter and—
after a moment—the old wolfer brought a grin to his
face.

“Say, pilgrim,” he drawled, “yuh ain’t so ’tarnal green
as yuh look, be yuh?”

Nor did Arthur Mirrivale prove-to be a greenhorn
when it came to tracking and shooting game. He was
a wonderful good shot, and he rode the mettlesome
mount Buffalo Bill had obtained for him with perfect
ease.

That second day the three sighted a herd of antelope
—the fleetest creatures which then ran wild over the
Western plains. To stalk the timid and watchful crea-
tures was no certain task; but having the wind in their
favor the hunters attempted it. It was worse than use-
less to try-to reach the herd afoot. They were ona
broad expanse of open prairie, and it would be impossible
to come near enough to the antelope for a safe shot be-
fore being discovered by the sentinels of the herd.

 

Cody and the wolf-hunter selected the best route by
which to approach the grass on which the creatures fed;
then, when shelter was no longer possible, the horses
would have to be depended upon to run the antelopes
down. It was planned to come at the animals from
three different directions, first one man, then another,
and then the \third showing himself, so as to confuse
the herd and seem to head it off.

Cody told Mirrivale, too, that these graceful creatures
were often run down and lassoed by hunters, instead of
shot, as a flying shot was not at all easy to obtain from
the back of a jumping horse. This idea pleased the
Englishman. He had spent some time on the South

American Pampas, and had learned tq throw the lariat -

as well as the bola. His equipment, furnished by Cody,
included a good hair rope that hung coiled from his
pommel. ; we

Taking advantage of every sheltering mound and clus-
ter of stumpy trees which intervened between them and
the great lawn, the trailers on horseback approached
diversely the antelope herd. Finally they were hidden
from each other—the three; but Cody had instructed his
companions to await his signal before dashing out into
the open. This came finally—his hat raised upon his
carbine-barrel above the top of a grove behind which
the scout was ensconcéd.

At once the Englishman and Wolfer Joe spurred out
upon the plain, and as they were coming from divergent

   
 

12

THE BUFFALO

angles, the startled herd, after the natural momentary
hesitation of such timid animals, dashed away toward
Cody’s retreat. Mirrivale, although such a good shot on
foot, knew better than to try to pick off one of the
flying creatures from the saddle. He swung his rope
instead, and, spurring on his mustang, dashed after the
flight of antelope.
and a handsome buck tumbled to the prairie and lay
there, Mirrivale found that the creature which seemed
to be his own easiest prey was a young doe—a lovely,
spotted: creature, which almost at once, in its fright,
separated itself from the ruck of the herd and dashed off
at a tangent.

On its trail followed Mirrivale’s fleet mustang, and
after that the Englishman noted little of the affair but
his own. chase.

the deer. On and on they flew, while the rope in Mirri-
vale’s hand swung ready to be uncoiled at the proper
moment.

The lithe legs of the doe doubled and sere like
oiled springs. But in running so rapidly, and under
such press of fear, antelopes frequently come to grief
because of their sharp hind hoofs cutting their forelegs.
This happened in the present case, and drops of blood
on the closely cropped sward revealed its wounds to the
hunter.

“Poor little beast!’ muttered Mirrivale. “It will be
a mercy to shoot it; but if I try that 7 know Ill miss
it altogether.”

So he urged his mount on, and finally, just before he
reached the edge of a wooded hill which here rose lei-
surely from the plain, he swung his rope, and fortunately
dropped the noose over the doe’s head. The horse was
well trained for this work, and of its own accord pulled
down.
either its neck or its legs.

Mirrivale leaped out of the saddle and ran to the
struggling little creature, drawing his knife as he did
so. He fell on one knee and seized the antelope before
it could struggle up. And then he marveled; for the
great, brown eyes of the poor beast were raised to him

with so much dumb agony in their glance that the young ©

man was shaken. And, too, tears as human as any
ever wept by the thoughtless hunters that preyed upon
her kind, ran from the doe’s eyes.

“By George!
man under his breath. :

And then something—that indefinable feeling the
sensitive human being possesses when a stranger stares
long at him—caused the young man to look up, startled.
His eyes rested upon a face peering out of the bushes not
three yards from where he knelt.,

The shock of this discovery held Mirrivale dumb. A
dozen fancies chased each other through his brain before

The old wolfer’s gun barked twice,

Fleet as his quarry was, the mustang —
was vigorously decreasing the distance between it and

‘the prairie—but at his bleeding,
Over tumbled the doe, but without ae

What a pity!” exclaimed the English-

BUGE SPORTES.

he grasped one important and—as he thought—soothing
one.

The face was dark, therefore he believed it an In-
dian’s, and that he had suddenly been discovered by
some of the hostiles Cody had spoken of, His next
thought was to leap up, run back for his carbine, and use
his horse as a shelter if a fight was on. Then he re-
membered that at his first move, in all probability—if
the face was that of an enemy—he would be shot down.
So he looked again, and until his mind and his vision
cleared ; and then came the soothing cette

It. was a woman's face—a girl’s!

Dark it was, indeed—the red, deep-bronze color asso-
ciated in his mind with the complexion of the few In-
dians he had seen thus far in the West. The girl's
glossy, purple-black hair was plaited over her brows,
but flowed loosely over her shoulders. It was»held Pack
from the face by a band, in which was stuck at a slant”
an eagle’s quill.

“By George! It’s a squaw,”
his lips emitted no sound audible a yard vee
she’s beautiful !”

His idea of Indian women had been colored bythe
squaws and half-breeds hanging about the dens of Platte
City. This creature had no part or lot with those foul —
beings!

Despite rather high cheek: bones and a nose of some
prominence, the face which looked at Mirrivale from
the thicket was not only piquantly attractive—it was
high-bred and haughtily beautiful. Yet there was a
quality in the gaze of the girl’s black eyes which
ened the entire expression of her countenance.

he murmured, Tet
“And

In a moment Mirrivale saw what caused this look.
She was gazing not at him—the white man kneeling on
helpless captive—the
doe. Its pleading eyes and its tears had—strangely
enough, if he understood Indian character aright—ap-

, pealed to her likewise!

All these discoveries were ae by the startled Eng-
lishman in a few seconds, Then the girl looked at him
again. And something of the pleading of the doe’s gaze
was in her own eyes. Mirrivale understood it. The
heart of the dusky maiden had been touched by the suf-
fering. of the doe, and her silence was likewise pregnant
with the same desire that was instinct in the dumb ani.
mal. Her eyes pled for the doe’s release!

Without a word Mirrivale understood her. He looked
once again at the panting captive. Then, swiftly and
without glancing up, he loosened the loop of the hair
rope and—set the antelope free!

For a breath the creature seemed unable to appreciate
the new condition. Then it sprang up, found itself in-
deed released, and tore away across the plain aiter the
now departing herd.

Then did the Englishman fook up again at the Indian

sot.

sath TPES IE 5, 0 Ki i b : A Bd a mb ba
errr sssaresiebiakaaiiins ite Mile 1) Sa dia nt ht ae cbr —— Sorat mma a sak me a

"

 
 
 

Nr Si AN pre

 

 

THE, BUEPALO

( ' girl. Her face was just disappearing in the thicket.
) For an instant he believed he saw the gesture of a small,

brown hand, as though she bade him a silent farewell.

_ Then the bushes closed silently and—she was gone!

After a moment Mirrivale stood up. He passed a

‘ hand over his eyes. Then he swore.

“By George! did I dream that?” he exclaimed.

But his gaze continued only a moment. It was no
dream, he felt. And, although the Indian girl seemed
peaceful enough, he knew that her presence was a warn-
ing that Cody and Wolfer Joe should know at once.

That thicket might be alive with Indian bucks. A

| dozen deadly weapons might be pointed at him at this

very instant!
His activity returned. He dashed back to the mustang,
coiling up the rope as he went, sprang into the saddle,

_, gm and spurred toward his two companions, who were view-
"| ing ‘three dead members of the herd some hundreds of
im yards away.

“Well, by the eternal!” cried Wolfer Joe, in amaze-
ment. “What yuh done with that doe?’ »
“It got away,” panted Mirrivale.

“Got away!” repeated the old man. “What’s th’ mat-

ter with yuh? I seen yuh rope it as clean as a whistle.”
Cody was looking at the young man curiously. He
merely asked :
“What did you see?”
“See?” stammered Mirrivale.
“Yes, in that thicket?”
The intuition of the scout struck the Englishman as

being, little short of marvelous; but he pulled himself

together and—leaving out his own opinion of the girl
and how deeply her beauty had impressed him—the

7 young man told his story.

“Jumping Jerusha!’’ exclaimed Wolfer Joe. ‘This is
springin’ it 6n us derned sudden. I reckoned we wouldn’t
hafter meet Injuns so near th’ river. Who’s that gal,
Buffler ?” ee m

Cody remained seriously thoughtful, but he answered
the question:

“From Mr. Mirrivale’s description, I should say that
we have run up against the very gang I feared.”

“The Kickapoos!” exclaimed Mirrivale,

“The Kickapoos—yes.”

“And that’s one 0’ their squaws?” queried Joe,

“More than that, if I’m-not mistaken, that is their
queen—or the girl a part of the tribe are trying, to
establish as-their queen—the daughter of the old dead
chief—W apahoka.”

 

CHAPTER Vi
THE TRAIL-HUNTER,

“Waal, this is what I call tough luck,” drawled Wolfer
Joe. “Here we ain’t more’n started—as yuh might say

 

BILL STORIES ee

—and these derned Injuns turn up. Waal, Bufller,
what'll it be?”

“Always do the first thing first,” said Cody succinctly.
“And that is

“Get these carcasses back to the train. If we're being

 

” questioned Mirrivale.

- watched from yonder copse we must not show that we
' suspect it.”

“That gal will know the boy seen her,” said Joe.

“Ves ; it is too bad that he let her know that she was
discovered. But it can’t be helped now.”

“That comes of having a tenderfoot along,” said Mir-
rivale, in a vexed tone. “I may be a fool, Mr. Cody;
but you didn’t need a green fool.”

“Oh, shttcks!” exclaiined Wolter Joe: “Ive seen a
derned sight wuss’n you. But it’s too bad yuh let that
doe git erway.”

“Is that all that’s bothering you, old man?” asked
Buffalo Bill, with a laugh. “We don’t need the meat
as bad as all that. Come on, boys, Up with these
carcasses.”

An antelope was laid across the saddle of each horse
and then the three men mounted.
more than casually at the thicket, they rode away, set-
ting off at an angle that would bring them across the
path of the prairie-schooners manned by the Prevost
party.

When they were well out of sight of the thicket and
low hill, Cody called a halt. His sharp eyes had taken
in the lay of the land, and he had been forming a plan
of campaign. He leaped down and made Joe, who was
the lightest of the three, and whose mount’s burden
was not so great, take his own antelope.

“T’ve got a little scouting to do,’ he explained,

Then he told the wolf-hunter where to have the
wagon-train camp for the night, and how to arrange the
camp against surprisé. He would not explain what he
was going to do himself; but, after the wolfer and Mirri-
vale were out of sight, he got busy at once. He turned
his horse’s head and circled around, still under cover,
so. as to come up behind the hill and thicket.

In half an hour he arrived at a deep hollow behind

the hill, in which he left his horse, He did not picket

the animal, or even hobble him. The stallion was trained
to come to his call, and he might need him at any mo-
ment. Leaving the intelligent creature with a word,
Buffalo Bill made his way quite as silently as an Indian,

and with all a redskin’s caution, into the wood which |

covered the small eminence.

The white man’s eyes, trained to note every “sign”

and mark in the wilds, allowed nothing to escape him

as he progressed. He skirted the hill, making his way

around to that side where Mitrivale had seen the Indian

girl in the bushes. And until he reached the very thicket
%

Without glancing

ESE SCC IOI 2

 
  

 

  
    
   
   
    
 
  
  
   
  
  
   
    
   
  
  
 
   
 
   
   
   
  
  
    
 
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
 

 

 

    
pursuit.

the trail of the girl,

 

THE BUFFALO

where the strange meeting Had taken place, the scout did
not find a mark of human occupancy of the wood.

But here were the plain prints of small, moccasined
feet. They came to the edge of the thicket, and led
away from it again, up through the wood toward the
higher land. The keen eyes of the scout saw that both
coming and going the Indian maid had followed nearly
the same direction. He observed where the twigs had
been disturbed, and some of the sapful branches broken
when she pushed through to see the white man and the
captive doe. : |

Assured that no other Indian had come to this spot,
at least, Cody moved along her trail warily, paying most
attention to her retreating footprints. As he moved on
he shot his searching glances all about the wood. It was
somewhat open as the ground rose, and it would have
been quite impossible for even an Indian to have hidden
from his apprehension.

Yet eternal vigilance was the price of follee ae suc-
cessfully on this trail. Knowing the redskin character as
he did, Buffalo Bill knew well that the Indian girl -
even were she alone —would think of the possibility of
She had revealed herself to one of the three
white men. She may have believed them merely on a
hunting venture, and that they would not press farther
mto the country which the Kickapoos had usurped as
their own; yet she would not overlook the possibility of
their being on an entirely different errand from this.

She must know that one or more of the party would
be an old tracker, and would look into her presence in
the wood. Therefore, if she were alone, she would un-
doubtedly make the best time possible for the main en
campment of her people—wherever that might be—and

warn the braves of the approach of the three strange -

white men.

If she had not been alone Cody was liabie, at any mo-
ment, to stir up a hornets’ nest. And he bore this in
mind as he slipped through the copse, following closely
yet ever watchful for surprise.
Finally he came to where the neat little footsteps
branched. She had not gone back by the way she had
approached the edge of the thicket, after all.

For an instant the scout hesitated ; then he decided that.
he desired to Know where she Ba gone to instead of -

where she had come from. If other Indians were in the
neighborhood, or if she had flown to warn her people
of the approach of the three hunters, it behooved: Cody
to learn the truth. So he followed the tiny footprints
of the Indian girl like a hound on the scent.

And the trail was not easy to follow. The girl had,
in places, leaped from rock to rock, avoided moist spots
in the earth, had walked logs, and frequently Cody was
puzzled for some few minutes before picking up the
trail again. It was the natural wit and instinet of the
aborigine against the trained watchfulness of the trail-

\ man’s hand.

a

BILL STORIES.

hunter—the skilful white man of logical mind and strong
reasoning faculties, pitted against the cunning inbred for
generations upon generations in the wild race to which
the girl belonged.

The girl had evidently been quite confidént of being |
pursued; otherwise, she would not have tried so fre.
quently to “break the trail.” After an hour of wearying
work, too, the scout came to a spot where—for the mo-
ment—it seemed as though his search must end com-
pletely. It was at the brink of a rocky gully—too steep
for one to descend without dislodging rocks and gravel,
or leaving some other plain mark, and too wide to leap,
The girl’s moccasined foot had left a print beside a fiat-
topped stone; indeed, the mark was too, too plain! The
foot was pointed down the gully, and it seemed as
though the girl wished—did her pursuer follow her suc-
cessfully to this point—to show him that she had gone
that way. .

But Cody shook his head laa smiled. Wieace way
she had gone, he knew she had not gone down the brink
of the gully, despite the fact that she might have done
so, stepping from rock to rock, and so hid her footsteps
completely. He did not even trouble himself to go in
that direction.

Yet, in which direction did she go from this point?
She had stepped upon the flat rock; of that there could
be little question. But from’ there—-

Now came into play the trained reasoning powers of
the scout’s mind. Had the girl been an old and tried
Kickapoo warrior, the case would have been more com.
plex. Training might“have taught the brave to~dé.te~}
very thing that was so obvious, and so befool the white
trailer—that is, to follow the edge of the gully, down or
up. But Cody was confident that right here the Indian
maid had made a spectacular attempt to throw dust in
the eyes of her pursuers.

He stood and examined the vicinity of the rock, stand-
ing upon it himself to do so. There were few spots
where the earth-mold showed as large as the palm of a
It was rock and trees growing between

The roots of the hardy trees seemed to
have fastened into the very cracks between the boulders;
but the fact was, these boulders lay upon the surface of
the earth and the trees had sprouted and grown up be-
tween them—in some cases pushing the rocks aside.

them, all about.

Having scrutinized the ground, Cody looked over-
head. Several trees stood on either side of the gully and
their branches overhung it. One branch, sprouting from
a tree nearly opposite his position, was a thick, sturdy
limb, bare of small branches, and reached clear over his
head. But this branch was far too high for the girl to
have leaped and caught; indeed, Cody could not have
done so himself. Had she been able to seize the branch,
however, she might have swung herself across the chasm
and landed on a flat-topped rock on the farther side.

 
   

— — ear ee

n

across the gully.
| nor a prism of quartz.
| nonplused. Then he heaved a relieved sigh.
: "It's a bead!” he muttered.

 

  

Yet it would have been a-perilous swing. There would

: have been grave danger of her falling backward to the
| bottom of the chasm. A professional acrobat might —
} ‘could he catch the limb—swing from it and drop safely
| on the-other side;
q nature of a trapeze to swing from

but unless she had gerne in the

 

Suddenly Cody’s eyes and his rambling thought be-

| came centered on something that glistened on the rock

It was not a bit of mica in the rock,
For a moment or two he was

Instantly he descended the steep side of the iy.

4 and then climbed laboriously up to the rock under the
| tree branch, where he had seen the bead glisten.
| had not been mistaken.
og the Indians buy of the white traders for ornamental
BH purposes.
| yet Cody was still a bit piaesd as to how she had ac-
4 complished * ‘the giant swing.”

He
It was a glass bead—such as

The girl had surely crossed the chasm here,

- Then the bead helped him decide. The girl had likely

worn a beaded belt or sash. She had-weighted one end

‘ and flung it over the branch and seized both ends firmly.

: It would be an easy matter then for her active young
| body to swing clear across the chasm, and there she

| dropped securely on the flat stone on which the scout now
| stood. One or more of the beads -had been torn off her

Pe
By

Py belt and—she had overlooked it.

So it was Se beyond peradventure by the
sian girl had gone neither up nor down
were just as many rocks covering the
sowie Uf the chasm, and he could see no foot-

Wik CLE

| a qithie sight; yet he was sure the girl had made her

4 way straightly from the vicinity of the chasm in some
: | direction divergent from its course.
™ boulders extended,
Me hundreds of yards.
Hy step here and left her footprint for guidance.

The flat and broken
interspersed with trees, for some
She would not have made a mis-

But. as Cody progressed, he saw that the farther he

' . went from the chasm the more space lay between the

| stones on which he, likewise, walked. Somewhere, soon,
' the girl must have stepped off the rocks, which told no
F tales,

upon the rather moist ground, which certainly

: would: tell tales.

  
 

       

  
 

: Te looked about him.
_ close enough juxtaposition to make possible a leap from
| one to the other.
_nold, and as impressionable as plaster of Paris.

 

There was a steeper and higher part of the hill just

y ahead of Cody. ..On its surface the trees had grown
_hickly, and there were few rocks.
)) —or around its base—the Indian girl must have placed
1 ' ier foot again upon the soil and left an impression.

Somewhere up there

  

Suddenly, the scout came to a place where it would
ea long—if, indeed, a possible—leap to the next boulder.
There were not two rocks in

   
 

And the soil between was black, forest

| THE BUFFALO

- taking to the ground again. |

 

 

BILL STORIES. _ oa 1s

Here, there were no convenient tree limbs by which

the girl might have swung herself over the break in the |

stone pathway. Cody went here, and: there,.and yon,
looking both alow and aloft for any possible passway.
Unless she had flown—providing,, of course, she had
come this way—the Indian girl must have left the im-
pression of her moccasin on the damp earth.

Suddenly Cody stopped, his eyes fixed ‘upon the
sround directly before him. Here was a wider space

than usual between the rock on which he stood andthe

one in advance. But on the ground, between the two
boulders, lay a broad chip of wood, sliced from a tree,
some time before, by an axman. It lay almost half-way
between the two rocks; but by stepping upon it, one could
reach the farther stone without leaving a footprint on oe
ground.

And yet Cody shook his head thoughtfully. That Kio
lay lightly on the ground, seemingly where it had fallen
when it flew from under the woodman’s ax.
girl stepped upon it, light as her body was, the chip would
have been pressed more deeply into the yielding ‘soil!
Besides, upon scrutinizing the neighborhood, Cody could
see no.tree that had been felled a eS nor had any
fallen log been cut up by the white man is ax, and the
Indian’s hatchet would not have sliced off such « a ae
chip.

Slowly the scout smiled as the: Might of dfevavers broke
upon his mind.

“Well, I aman ass!” he muttered.
nobody’s fool. Let—me—see.”’

He stretched out his gun, and with ihe muzzle ished.
the big chip carefully aside. Beneath it was the ‘plains
print ofa tiny moccasined foot!

The girl had been obliged to leave her spoor in the
soil; but she had found this chip, and come back and
flung it over her footprint in a most natural position.

“And that girl is

Nobody but a man used to reasoning logically from

every cause to every effect would have discovered: thes
ruse. And it was an important discovery, for beyond
that spot the girl had been able to walk on rocks and a
leaning tree trunk for several hundred yards, before
Fortunately for the trailer,
however, he saw that this route was the only safe one
she could have taken, and he hastened forward and
picked her tracks up again where she had swung her.
self out of the top of ue leaning tree into the midst of
a_ thicket.

The broken twigs betrayed her here, and by them he

followed her down a steep side-hill, and finally out into

an open glade, beyond the shoulder of the small moun-
tain. Here she had stood at the edge of the glade, and,
he saw, had probably called her waiting pony to her,
for there were marks of unshod hoofs at the spot, and
after that the moccasin-prints ended, and the pony had
shot away to the northward, | 3

Had the ©

  
  
       
  

 

EEE EERE

(REET

SGP YSN RT EDITS ITI

   
 

THE BUFFALO

“well, ae was alone,” muttered Cody, turning back

and circling the hill toward the spot where he had left

his own mount. “But what report will she take to the
lodges of the Kickapoos fy

CHAPTER VII.
EEE STORY OF WAPAHOKA.

The four long, heavy wagons of Prevost’s train were

formed in a hollow square, with but a narrow opening

left between two of them for an entrance to the camp.
The mules and horses, tied along tWo sides of the square
camp, were champing their oats and stamping off flies,
while the cook and his assistants were preparng a sav-
ory antelope pie and a soup, made of the less delicate
parts of the three carcasses brought in by the hunters,
over. a roaring ire: built under a rude, sheet-iron camp-
stove: eo

Over another hs fo. Vea aes bed of coals—

Wolfer Joe had built a framework of green withes, and
on these withes he was laying and turning long strips
of antelope meat for curing—“jerking,’ he called it.
Several of the haunches would be allowed to. “season”
and get a gamy flavor before eaten: but most. of the lean
- parts of the antelopes would be smoked in this way,
and so become a reserve stock to fall back upon when
game. should prove scarce in the sand-hill country to
which they were coming...
' It was growing. dark—the- purple, velvety darkness
of the plain, when the arching sky is lit dnly by the stars
—when the watchman at the entrance to the camp—
~*none but Alexander Prevost himself—heard the faint
footfall of a horse-somewhere out in that pall of dark-
ness that hid all landmarks. The Scotchman was alert
on the instant; but he gave no warning to the camp. In-
stead, he mocked. the squealing cry of the ground-owl
twice, and then—aiter,a moment’s wait—a third time.
‘There was a quick. response—the sharp bark of a
coyote, repeated twice. At once the Scot sat down upon
the end of the wagon- tongue that happened to be turned
outward, and applied himself to his pipe again.

The hoof- beats came nearer, and finally, out of the
darkness, there loomed up suddenly the horse and rider
—both looking extremely tall in the dusk.

“How gaes th’ night, Buffalo?” queried Prevost,

“Tye ridden around the camp and not seen a sign of
trouble,” "replied the scout’s voice.

ED, amon! ae I dinna hear ye till ye was juist comin’

i a :

“My horse has been trained to sail as Tehily. as a girl
tripping over a ballroom floor,” returned Buffalo Bill,
dismounting ‘and accepting the Scotchman’s
pouch, from which he filled his own pipe.

ine dirty old deil in yon said ye’d gone trackin’ some
sign ye seen?” suggested Prevost. : \

(

tobacco

BILL STORIES.

“You mean Joe?”

“Aye. Eh, mon! but = sa filthy cheil.
never \wash ?”

“He’s a wolfer, and that old skin suit ie Wears is
cueied through and through with the smell of the
dead éarcasses and unclean skins he handlés, One must
have a good stomach, it strikes me, to be a wolf-hunter,”

“Eh, mon! no stomach at all, ye’d better say. Th’
yairy mules lay back ‘their ears when he comes near.”

“Worse men than him one said Cody succinctly,

“Meanin’ ue

“Kickapoos. We'll jane some fun with them I’m
afraid, Prevost.” ge

“But nae so soon as this: ”

(One ot their ee spotted us ee to- day

He told the Scot of Mirrivale’s discovery of the girl-
queen’s presence, for the Englishman and Wolfer 5
had said nothing about it to the party. _

“Tosh, mon!” exclaimed the Scot, letting his pipe go
out. “We are, indeed, likely ter sup sorrer with a short
spoon. I thought we were yet far from the Kickapoos'
grounds.”

“And so we are. But Indians are always roaming
about. You can never depend upon their remaining long
in one place, excepting over the winter. You can make
up your mind that that girl—if she was Wapahoka, as -
I suspect—was not far from the main body of her
tripe!’

As he spoke, Mirrivale strolled auteide of the camp,
and greeted the returned scout.

“What did you make out of it, Mr. Cody? a

“That the girl is as cute as ‘they make them, and
that she’s ridden north as though the devil were after
hers Ne

“Perhaps she got a sight of you on her trail,”
- gested the Englishman slyly. ,

Cody laughed good-naturedly, while the Scot chuckled.

“Aye! she might weel think so,” he muttered, turning
admiring gaze upon the scout. :

“And you think she is the queen of the tribe? 2” asked
Mirrivale, with interest.

“From what I have heard, there is a strong party in
her favor. But the young bucks are opposed to a woman
commanding the tribe. Yet such thing has been among
the Kickapoos. They are more distinctly a peculiar
people—a pure-blooded strain—than any other tribe
in the North and West. They are deeply religious——’
“Religious, is it!” interrupted Prevost. “The red
dels! ’Tis a quare sort of religion those soulless cheils
must have.”

Wha’ Woes te

sug-

“They worship their Great Spirit, and believe in 4
hereafter for the good, and punishment for the wicked.
Their religion goes as far as does that of the Hebrew
race, for they even look forward to. the: legs a a
(Messiah.

 
THE BUFFALO BILL

: . ° \
‘While these same Kickapoos were in Mexico, I am

told, one of their women was wooed by a white man,
and the fellow had every reason to believe that she would
Smarty him. But she persistently refused, and when
i) pressed for her reason, is said to have told him:
“Vou are fair to look upon, and agreeable to me, but
‘your God is not_my God, and our offspring would be
either Indian nor paleface, and therefore a spiritual
‘orphan, to be denied in the unending life the protection
pof the Good Spirit.”
The Scot grunted unbelievingly ; but Mirrivale was
oth impressed and interested. ,
“That girl did not look like the squaws 1 saw hanging
Hout Platte City.’
“No?”
“She was mighty prethy.” ;
“Hal? grunted Prevost. “She’d-be prettier dancin’
aboot ye wi’ her face painted an’ yellin’ like a loon,
while th’ flames o’ deith lapped ye aboot.”
“Prevost never can believe but the worst of a red-
kin,” said Cody quietly.
“There is some good in them?” asked Mirrivale.

“Much good. But not when their wrath is aroused.
have slept with, and eat with, and traveled with bucks
hat, a few months later, or a few months before, were
tying their d—ndest to kill me, An Indian’s word is
tequently more to be trusted than a white man’s. Es-
ecially among these Kickapoos. They are not like the
rule Sioux and other Dakotas. The Sioux are treach-
rous.”

“But about this girl—this Wapahoka?”

“Ts she like her race?”
PY es.)

) “I don’t know. But in looks, I understand, she is not
ure Kickapoo. That is why the opposition to her is
uccessful.. If the chief medicine-man of this runaway
tribe was not her friend, they’d have killed her long
go, I understand. There can be no doubt that she is
he daughter of the old chief and of his squaw, yet they

*

“You don’t suppose it is possible that she is a ie
‘exclaimed Mirrivale.

PNo, No; 1 tell youl’

“Well then, I reckon we can’t work. up any romance
bout her,” said Cody, knocking the ashes from his
) “But she can raise a deuce.of a ruction for us if

GHAPTER VIE”
THE MEETING.

The ca however, Ha imminent, was not apparent

he next day, nor the next, not the next, If the Indian

‘herds of antelope;

“peautiful fawns.

 

STORIES.

girl had carried word of the coming palefaces to her
people—if she had suspected that the three men she had
seen were the forerunners of an emigrant train—the
Kickapoos kept their distance.

But each night Cody insisted upon the camp becoming
an armed square, with a man on watch upon each side.
The feafs of the women and children, however, were
soon soothed, as nothing occurred to disturb the journey
either by day or night. The march was exceedingly
slow, however ; and, too, the hunters had to travel many
miles a day for the game which was to supply the train
with fresh meat.

Cody looked for buffalo signs: Already the prophecy
of a buffalo famine had been made. The building of
the Kansas Pacific Railroad had divided the buffalo

. herds, and it was said that the southern herd was being

wiped out at the rate of thousands every day!

Cody told Mirrivale something of the “humped-back
cattle’ as the Spaniards first nicknamed the bison. He -
himself had aided in the terrible slaughter of the crea-
tures, but in a legitimate manner, and for a legitimate
purpose.

“It was a clean business that gave me this title which
sticks to me now, although I have long since given up
the life of a hunter,’ Cody remarked. ¢1 engaged to
supply the men building the Kansas Pacific with meat—
buffalo meat—for $500 per month. In eighteen months

I killed 4,280 of the beasts, and I can say that they were

- not killed wantonly, and the meat was not wasted. Why,

there’s a lot of fellows have done more toward murder-
ing these poor beasts than I have; only the name didn’t
happen to get stuck to them. There’s Captain Jack ©
Bridges, of Kansas, who boasts of killing 1,142 buffaloes
in six weeks. And many an old scoundrel like old Joe,
here, has killed ’em for their heads and hides alone—
ain’t that so, old asafcedity?” he added, playfully punch-
ing the wolfer in the ribs. “I wonder the wolves don’t
follow us worse than they do, you stink so, old man.”
“The wolves air follering the buffalers. We'll find
‘em all right enough, boys,” declared the wolf-hunter.
Fresh meat was scarce, although they sighted several '
but antelope are not easy to stalk.
They are the swiftest creatures without wings that man
ever tried to hunt. And despite their timidity, the bucks —

and does sometimes show wonderful courage when their

young are in danger. Mirrivale had an example of this
ohne afternoon when the three hunters were galloping
back to rejoin the wagon-train, having been quite unsuc-
cessful in striking the trail of anything bigger than a
coyote, or prairie-wolf.

Turning the spur of a hill, there suddenly sprang up
from a clump of tall grass a doe antelope and a pair of
Like a flash the old one and one of
the fawns started over the brow of the’ ridge—too quick
for any shot to be tried, but the other little fellow began

 

 
 

 

ars

srunning:around in a circle, bleating as ford as he could.
'He was‘confused; and did not know how to escape from
his enemies, and had lost sight of his dam and brother.
_ “Jumping Jerusha! can’t we even git that little feller?”
Gerdes Wolfer Joe, flinging himself from his horse
ane making, a grab for the fawn as it shot past him.
ale laughing at their
antics, ignored Aue a the three tried to close in on
‘the. running and frightened fawn. Ranging themselves
‘around the. circle, the three hunters every now and then
dashed headlong after the fawn as it flew past; but they
sme it by a. rod, of, $O every time. That little animated

mi adda ae amen. were, Sales i. lone a. bleat-
ing and stamping. behind them. They turned, and there
was a handsome buck, and the old doe, and another doe

with him, None of the men had their carbines, but Joe
rushed for his horse to secure his, while Mirrivale:im-.

itated Cody in drawing. one of He heavy revolvers with
which they. were both armed.

‘buck and ‘does, bleating anxiously, darted in ahead. of
him, rushing right between the men. Never stopping
an ‘instant, the big buck led the way; the doe and fawn
‘followed; ands before one could say “Jack Robinson!’
the whiole party-—the fawn trailing his elders this time
were over the ridge!

They were followed by a useless bullet from Joe’s
éarbine. “But Cody and Mirrivale did not attempt to fire.
Cody burst into a loud laugh upoy seeing the wolfer’s
fueful countenance.

: “Jumping Jerusha ! !” exclaimed the old man wrathfully. |

“Are you two fellers, dummies ? Why didn’t BG shoot
one of “em?” ;
y ie. didn’t you? e asked Mirrivale.

"The old 3 man n began to see the humor of the situa.
tion. ne
“Waal,” he drawled, “what s th’ use? We didn’t want
antelope steak, anyway !”

It was that very day, however, and before they reached
the slow- -moving emigrant train, that the trio of hunters
“changed theit luck.” It wasn’t antelopes this time,
but a much harder creature to kill, and Mirrivale had an
experience at the same time that he ‘felt stire he would be
long in forgetting.

They had gone some two Votes beyond the side hill,
on which they had successfully chased the fawn, when
Cody suddenly reined in, as they crossed a small brook,
and his exclamation brought the others to a halt. All
this time’ they. were “on the lookout for Indians, and

never did they ford a creek, or cross a piece of marshy _
ground, without the scout overlooking the vicinity for
And his keen eye seemed ever sweeping the :

footprints. .
horizon: and. hilltops for. signal-smokes,
_ At was not,an Indian “sign” that had startled him now,

THE BUFFALO

But, as. the fawn came hon ie around ie circle, the.

tioningly.

Pike STORIES, -?

however. As Mirrivale and Joe rode back, Cody \
pointing’ at several large spoors in the soft trail,
great animal had recently been here to drink,
rad presume that must be a bear’s track,” said Miriv |
‘hut 1 did not know that the creatures grew So larg
“Ts Ole Ephriam, «sure « enough,’ ” exclaimed

‘wolfer. |
“ ‘Ole Ephriam’ ?” repeated the: Englishman que

‘A. grizzly bear he means. That's the cant phrase |
the brute among hunters out here,” explained Cody.
‘Well, there is some a of ae sores. dl
queried: Mirrivale. |
“Or of gittin’ killed a
grimly. .
“Well, well! Three men ee one bear——
“They don’t often go on their lonesome. Most ta
there’s a pair of ’em—an p'r’aps a en of ha’f-grow |
cubs,” grunted Joe. |
“And evetl one gtizzly is not to - sneezed at as
“He turned up that ravine yond

replied the wol.;

39

enemy,’ added ae
boys. Come on. : 1
Cody’s judgment was -not at oy The bear |
made for the ravine, after drinking at the trickle.
water, and doubtless his den was somewhere up the
among the rocks. It was not a place into which to te
a horse, and Buffalo Bill and Joe dismounted,
_ “Hold on, young feller,” advised the wolfer, as Mit
vale undertook to dismount likewise. ‘I don’t see
easy tree ter climb yere-erbout, am if 1 4a: 904 es
up thar in the saddle.”

“Why?” demanded the Pholishnad hotty:
take care of myself as well on foot as you men? I
not, a child, I hope.”

POR SES

“That’s all very well, pilgrim, an’ no offense mean
returned Joe easily. “But a grizzly, when his dade
up, ain’t no playful lamb, now I do assure yuh!”

_ What of it?” uh

“Tf he gits by Buffler an’ me an’ comes rampagin’ 0
yere, yuh’d better be in the saddle—or else up a tre

“Nonsense !’?

_ “What he says is quite true, Mirrivale,” Cody repli
bruskly. “You don’t know anything about these cré
tures, and we do. Dve known of a grizzly charging al’
killing a man after a score of shots had: been poured in
him from all sides. | They are the wickedest creatur

_ the Almighty ever made.”

“B’sides, yuh might be some good up thar j in the sadd
if he gits erway from us,” added Wolfer Joe. ey
‘kin run him down.” |

“T should’ presume that I could run a fo down ‘ |
foot,” exclaimed Mirrivale, in disgust.

“Waal,” said the old hunter, “ytth persume jest erbo
as wrong as it’s posserble fur yuh to! Ole Ephria

ain't no slouch at travelin’ specially. up Hie

a

 
       
     
  
 
   
  
  
  
   
  
    
   
  
  
   
   
  
   
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
 
 
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
   
   
 
    
 

  

RH

99

“You remain mounted, Mirrivale,” said Cody, ending
e discussion by issuing the command. “And be sure

ou keep plenty of clear space behind you for. a get-
way if you don’t*drop the na at the first fire. That
s, if we let him escape us.’

| The two old hunters left their mounts some distance
rom the mouth of the rocky glen into which they ven.
ured after his bearship. They were quickly out of
lirrivale’s sight, and then began™a - ‘wearisome wait for

he Englishman. a aoe

  
  
 
 
 
 
  
   
  

He heard no shots, or any sound, from up the ravine.
But finally there was a crashing in the brush which
masked the entrance to the place, and, before he could
ull his carbine from its holster, into which he had. fool-
ashly thrust it, a great, grayish, dirty creature burst
fhrough the thicket, and charged down upon him! That
it was a bear, he knew; but such a bear he had never
n his life imagined !

 

; With slobbering jaws and red onl open, showing
he savage teeth, the bear came nearer. Had Mirrivale
known his horse better, he would have been forewarned,
for before ‘the bear came into view the creature had
Dlanted his four feet firmly, and the Englishman had
yeen surprised to hear his heart go “pound pound!” as
he bushes crackled. On the instant the beast rushed
lout, the horse swerved away, and made one stiff-legged
ap. 3

©) Mirrivale could not seize his gun quick enough. And
Me knew that the smaller weapons would be worse than
eless, for this beast of a grizzly looked to him as big
a small elephant! But his rope was at hand, and
seized it, swung the coil around his head, and let it
almost on the instant. It dropped squarely, and the
Phear put up a forepaw into the noose. Then Mirrivale
Spurred his horse, and started off at a tangent, pops to
Pypull the bear down.

_ But at the first yank the bear started directly sie:
Mthe horse and rider, and he actually ran so fast that, on
‘this rough ground, Mirrivale could not ride swiftly
Penough to keep the rope taut!

   
 
 
  
 
  

4 “And then his horse went to one side of the tree, and
Wthe grizzly to the other. Mirrivaie saw the danger of
ithe two coming together, and he cast loose his rope from
the saddle-bow. The bear turned at that and ran down
into a gully, where there was a small creek, wallowing
here in the mud and water. Then it was that the young
Merman saw that the bear had been sorely wounded, for
) the blood colored the water. Ole Ephriam had gone into
he mud to plaster up the wound—shrewd old fellow that
phe he Cody and Joe must have pumped some lead into

 
  

Whim, a good ways up the ravine.
This supposition was true, for out of the ravine now
rushed the two men, and hailed Mirrivale to know if be
hed allowed the beast to escape.

THE BUFFALO

  

 

“He’s down in this hole —and he’s got my rope with
him. That’s a ae ae said Mirrivale ruefully. “I
don’t-Want to lose it.” = \ |

“Go down and ae it off! "chuckled Joe, running for
his horse.

Cody’s mount had aoe its ground; but the wolfer’s
horse had run some distance away when he smeiled
bear. Cody mounted and rode up one bank of the creek,
while Mirrivale remained on the other. The grizzly
was all of ten feet below the bank, and Mirrivale felt
perfectly safe when he forced his horse to a spot on
the bank, directly over the wallowing bear. The latter
glanced once at the Englishman sideways; bears never
look directly at one.. Then, in a second, befare he could
breathe after the look, the beast sprang from the bed
of the creek to the haunch of Mirrivale’s horse!

It was a phenomenal spring. The bear was so huge,
and looked so clumsy, that had any one told the English-
man it could perform such an acrobatic trick, he would
have laughed the teller to scorn! But the bear, growl-
ing ferociously, landed on the horse, and Mirrivale went
onto his horse’s neck in a second.

It is possible that Mirrivale had never been so scared
before in his life. One blow from those horrible claws
which he saw sheathed in the poor horse’s flank, and
he knew that his back would be torn to shreds! It was
a fearful situation. '

But Cody did not lose his head. He could not safely
shoot at the bear when it was so near the Englishman.
So he, too, seized his lasso. ,The loop fell over the
bear’s head and forepaw as the brute raised it to strike.
Cody wheeled his powerful horse and spurred away
from the gully. The grizzly was jerked off the English-
man’s horse, which likewise leaped away, squealing with
pain, and the grizzly fell backward into the creek, was
drawn up against the opposite bank, and “snubbed”
there, until Wolfer Joe rode back on his trembling horse
and put several bullets just where they would do the
most good.

Ole Ephriam expired; but he had managed to do some .

considerable damage to Mirrivale’s mount, and for sev-
eral days the Englishman had to use a horse. belonging
to one of the Scotchmen in the party. The grizzly
served to supply the train with fresh meat—and some
“jerked” flesh—for some days, however.

And all this time no sign of the Kickapoos!

To tell the truth, Cody was both puzzled and worried
over this fact. It was not in the nature of things that
the Indian maiden should have spied. upon the three
hunters of the wagon-train, and not report their presence
to hér warriors. Even if she had not chanced to see
the wagons themselves, and thought the three men were
merely on a hunt, Cody could not understand why some

move had not been made by the redskins. And that they

BILL STORIES. Le 19 a

    
20

Syaagees

THE BUFFALO. BILL STORIES.

    
 
    

   
  

 

   

were not in the vicinity of the trail the expedition was~
Ss tion, the. scout dismounted,. leaving his carbine in the |
saddle, and removed the revolvers from his belt, laying

following, the scout was sure.

At least, he had been sure of this until the morning

following the bear-hunt. Early that day he rode to a
rather high hill in the vicinity of the trail, and climbed
to the summit alone. He could see two valleys to the
northward from this overlook. In both, a thin column
of smoke was’ rising,

Cody well knew that no white men would be forinid in”
The Indians were approaching, and it.

‘this direction.
looked as though they were either side of the trail on
which the wagon-train must pass. There were two par-
ties of the redskins; but whether they were both
poos, or not, he could not guess.

That day he left Wolfer Joe and Mirrivale to See
about in the immediate front of the train, warning them,

as well as the other men, to keep their eyes peeled for
Alene, the scout rode. forward along the trail
He knew, that 1 the red men were.

trouble.
for some miles.
watching the trail, it would not be long before they dis-
covered him, and his being alone would encourage them
to appear. He had had many dealings with these In-
dians on the Osage while the old chief jwas alive, and
he believed that some of the old mem left were
friends. S

It was near noon, and he had just ridden out of a
dense thicket through which the faint trail passed, when
the sound of horses’ hoofs ahead apprised him that he
was due to meet a considerable party of red men within
a few moments.

his

on to the meeting—-uncegtain as the outcome of it was.
There, upon the plain, drawn up in battle array, were
some two score Kickapoo warriors, in war-bonnets and

flaunting their scalp-hung spears, opposing his further

progress.

 

CHAPTER TX,
BUFFALO BILL'S DEFIANCE.

~ The instant he heard the thunder of the horses’ hoofs,
Buffalo Bill had. stooped and plucked a green branch
from a bush by the trail-side; now he advanced, his
horse at a walk, holding this sign. of his peacenild mis-
sion over his head.

It was a moment to shake the stoutest heart.
Kickapoos were in the full panoply of war.
checked their horses some yards from the mouth of
the defile, but they barred the scout’s way conclusively.
The latter, who knew the Indian sign-language as well
as he knew half a dozen different dialects, signaled that
he was alone, and wished to speak with the leader of
the party. At once, one of ‘the Indians in the forefront
of the crowd signaled back for the white man to come
forward afoot, and unarmed,
space dividing his mount and the warriors.

The

Kicka- |

The scout did not flinch, but rode .

‘called the Black Hills.

They had’

into the, middle of the:

de seemed. a reckless thing to da: eu without hesita-

them upon a rock hard by. So, with empty hands, he
strode. forward into the field. He was utterly at the
merey of the crew; yet, even mounted and well armed,

what chance had he, alone, against forty mounted war-
~riors, probably the pick of the tribe on the pick of the

tribe’s fleet ponies? . ®

The Indian who* had replied to his signal did not

come forward to mect him. After a moment, a great

black charger-——not at all the usual Indian pony, but
evidently. a wild range-horse, half-broken to the rider's
control—plunged out of the ruck and galloped down to
meet the scout, And on the beast’s back was the slight
figure of a girl, her hair blowing straight out behind,

 

 

   
  
    
   
    
  
  
   
  

nc
lai
to

SO

her hand firmly guiding the big horse by the use of the *

rawhide thong looped about his lower jaw, in Indixn

fashion,

The queen herself!’ muttered Cody, and he halted,
folding his arms, and waited for her coming.

She was not of the usual type of squaw; she was, in-
deed, a beautiful girl, and her management of her wild
mount was & wonderful piece of horsemanship. Her

flashing eyes looked sternly upon the scout, as she rode

up and pulled her mount back upon his haunches to
stop him.

“Vou are a bold man to enter the lands of the Kicka-
poos, alone,” she said to him in her own tongue, which
the scout understood very well.

“IT come in peace,’ said Buffalo Bill quietly.

*T saw you and two other palefaces far from here,
Hens. Were you not content to kill and go away?”

“We wish only to kill enough to serve our party with

food while we travel this trail,’ said Cody calmly.

“There were more of.you then, paleface ?”

“We are a party of peaceful men, who wish to cross
this territory and so reach the hills which have been
We only crave permission to do
this, and to kill such game by the way as we may need.”

“How many are there of ye?”

“Beside the Kickapoo people, we are but few; and we
are peaceful.”

“I know you, Long Hair.
father’s lodge.
he is dead,”

“And you rule in is stead, oh, Wapahoka ee

The girl’s bronze cheek showed sudden surges of

You used to, come to my
You were respected by my father. But

dark-red. *

“IT will govern—in silane ‘of time,

: But now. the
medicifie ‘chic, N akona, aites the people.

Yet he is my

atrienth, ©

“Tt is well, then.
mission I crave?”

“No

Von carely, may eve me the per
ee ae

That lies with pe oe ‘replied sullenly.

  
   
   
  
    
 
   
 
 
  
  
  
   
    
  
  
   
  
  
  
 

“Why do you come?”

£ cc

WwW
mn)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     
CR OSS CO.

ie

fey

ith

my
suit

a

THE BUPFALO BILL STORIES.

“Surely the medicine chief will not forbid it! I know
him. He used to be my friend, too.”

“The paleface and the Kickapoos are friends no

| longer.”

“That is of the Kickapoos’ choosing, then. I have the
kindliest feelings for them all,” declared the scout.

“Long Hair has a smooth tongue. He talks friend-
ship now. How will it be if the Yellow-eyes try to
drive us back to the barren reservations on the Osage?”

“That time has not come,” said Cody simply. “I have
not come to spy upon your people, nor to spy out the
land. We are on a peaceful mission. We merely wish
to cross these lands which you claim, Wapahoka.”

“And behind you come other trains of palefaces!’

“Nay. Weare alone. The other trains go by the
southern trail.”’

“Bet if you pass through peacefully, others will dare
come,”’

“T speak for none but myself and my companions.”

“The medicine chief has told his children that no
white men must cross these lands. If they do, then
misfortune falls upon my people.”

“Your medicine chief is an old fool!” muttered Buf-
falo Bill, in English; but he still replied smoothly in the
Kickapoo tongue:

“Perhaps Nakona is misled,”

“His medicine is good,”

“Perhaps he does not always prophesy truly.. Is he

not keeping thee, Wapahoka, from untrammeled gov-

us to pass, after all; would it not injure your influence —

fas Nakona,

ernment of thy people?” demanded the scout crattily.

Again the girl’s cheeks surged with red, and her eyes
flashed angrily.

“Nakona is an old man, and his medicine is very
strong,’ she muttered.

“Perhaps. Yet others might make medicine as good
Among my own people, | am a medicine
chief,’ declared Cody calmly. “My medicine makes sure
that harm will befall neither the white men nor the
red, if my friends and I are allowed to peacefully pass
over this trail.”

“The paleface medicine is not good for the Kickapoo,”
declared Wapahoka haughtily.

“Let me advise Wapahoka to try it.”

“No! Long Hair, you and your people may not pass,”
declared the girl, :

“Wapahoka, suppose Nakona should decide to allow

if you had first Aeaied me?”

“Tf I say ‘No!’ how will Long Hair change my will,
and Nakona’s?” demanded the girl.

“T shall see your medicine chief myself,” said Cody
flatly,

Instantly the girl’s form was rigid with rage.

‘Does Long Hair dare demand entrance to the hunt-
ing-lands of my people?” she cried haughtily.

 

2

“T demand nothing, O Wapahoka; yet if you dare not

 

give me the permission I crave i
“Dare not!’
“Or cannot i

 

“Cannot!” repeated the girl in the same angry tone.

“Or will not, Wapahoka, then I must see the medi-
cine Chief, Nakona, myself. He knows me of old —
as did your father. And he knows that Long Hair will
not be forbidden without reason.”

“T have but to lift my hand, Long Hair, and the
watriors yonder ae ride down upon thee, and bear thee —
away a prisoner.”

“To the lodge of the medicine chief—aye, a know
Tes

“Nay! to the stake!” hissed the angry queen.

“Not without the word of Nakona,
Cody cheerfully.

“And your companions shall be brought in and area
with thee!” cried the girl, fairly beside herself.

“My companions may make some defense before they
are captured so easily, Wapahoka,” declared Buffalo
Bill sternly. “They are not timid men.”

“All white men are cowards!’ cried the girl.

“Such was not your father’s opinion, Wapahoka,” re-
turned the white man blandly.

He saw that she was, after all, but a self-willed child.
The old chief had allowed her to sway him as she would.
Undoubtedly she had some ‘influence with the tribe; but
the crafty old Nakona—whom Cody knew of old—held
her in leash, and allowed the. qyeen to go but so far. And
the girl was smart enough to secretly realize that she
was suffered to pose as queen only by the will of the
medicine chief,

Therefore, suspecting what he did, Long Hair be-
lieved that his chance of getting his people over the
trail in peace lay in two directions—stirring the queen
to bold action without advising with Nakona, the medi-
cine-man; or by interviewing Nakona himself and wring-
ing from the old reprobate the permission he craved.
Cody knew that Nakona’s power over the tribe was

it seems,’ said

,greatly enhanced by a few moldy old tricks the medi.

cine-man could do—merely sleight of hand, and tricks of
ventriloquism that a real Indian prophet would scorn to
use.

“Long Hair would not so boldly flaunt Nakona to his
face,” said the girl, at last. ‘“Nakona is a great prophet.
His lodge is a lodge of wonders. If he says the pale-

face may not pass through, he must be obeved. Even J,
the queen, must obey,” she said gloomily.
“T would see and converse with Nakona,” said the

scout gravely, “Perhaps my medicine will be strong

enough to overcome his medicine, and he will let us
pass.’

“Long Hair craves ‘6 be ther to Nakona, does he?”
the girl demanded, with satisfaction.

 
 

22

Ohi do. |

“Then be it so!” she S ninet,
ons and your horse, Long Hair.
take you to the medicine-lodge.”

“Tis well,” agreed Cody coolly. “But first let a mes-
sage be sent by one of your fleet young men to my com>
panions, that they may ae of my absence, and that
they are to wait my return.”

The queen turned and clapped her hands. A young
buck at once drove his pony forward, his spear held low
as though he would run the white man through. Cody
did not swerve a hair’s breadth, however, but took out
his note-book and pencil and wrote several lines upon a
sheet of the paper. Tearing it from the book, he held
it out to the young brave, and instructed him where to
find the wagon-train.

“Take the paper that talks and ride as Long Hair
directs,” said the queen.

“Resume.your weap-
I and my warriors will

Instantly the buck set off at his pony’s fleetest pace,
while Cody resumed his weapons and mounted to ride
with the queen and her warriors, as escort, to the medi-
cine-lodge of Nakona.

 

CHAPTER X.
LONG HAIR'S “MAGIC,”

Cody and the Prevost party had come some distance
into that country claimed by the Kickapoos, by this time.
At that day the northwestern portion of Nebraska and
adjoining parts of Dakota were pretty blank on the
school maps. The courses of the rivers and sand-hill
ranges were traced; but there wasn’t a, settlement or a
ranch in all that territory. The wagon-train was ap-
proaching the Niobrara river, and if they could have
passed that for a few days the scout would have been
more troubled over the possibility of yee Sioux
than Kickapoo warriors.

He had met the Kickapoos with a vengeance, how-
ever. In the midst of the party of braves led by the
young queen Cody rode until near night, before arriving
at the main village of the tribe. This portion of the

Kickapoo nation that had escaped from the Kansas

reservation. and come north numbered something like
six hundred souls. Nearly a.thousand of the tribe had
been brought back from Mexico, and 300 had remained
in Kansas, anyway. Those now living in the sand-hill
“desert” comprised a good half of the Kickapoos left
under United,States jurisdiction.

The encampment of the red men was arranged with
the. teepees set up in a roughly egg-shaped plan. At
the point of the egg was a lodge, larger than most of

the others, with the sign of the lizard painted on the

skin flap. Cody knew this to be the medicine chief's
sign, |

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

As the party approached with the white man, a dozen
or more young squaws on pony-ba ck came tearing down
a side glen to meet them. They were armed like braves,
were these Amazons, only they wore no war- -bonnets.

-Wapahoka rode to meet these girls, and went away with .

them, leaving the bucks to usher Cody into the encamp-
ment. It was evident that the women of the Kickapoos
were getting more liberty, under Wapahoka’s influence,
than Indian women usually have. Be,

" The scout found the older squaws aay, Weare the
supper fires; he was given of the best to eat, and-several
of the older men came to smoke with him, and talk
over old times. As yet he was an honored guest in the
camp.

By and by, the young buck who had ridden with his
message to the wagon-train returned with “talking-
leaves” for the scout. The letter was from Mirrivale. It
was evident that the young Englishman and Prevost un-

derstood fully the scout’s instructions, and that the party
were determined to carry them out, despite the peril
which menaced. How great that peril. was neither the
scout nor his comrades knew. oe were. playing the
game blindfolded! :

Up to this time Buffalo Bill had not seen Nakona.
His influence over the Kickapoos had greatly increased
since the father of Wapahoka had died. It was plain
that whoever the medicine-man should set up as chief of

the tribe would in the end be accepted by the bulk of —

ot

“the Kickapoos. That he at present favored:|Vape
as queen was a fact—of this Cody was
manner was half-hearted. It gave ec
chiefs hope. And is was suspected: that an Oona
wished to select one of the ambitious ones, and marry
Wapahoka to him, and so establish the government of
the Kickapoos without internal dissention, or civil war.
The maid was not of a marrying mind, however, She
looked down upon the young men of the tribe, and
flaunted them. She had always had her own will with
her father, and she declared that no man should control
her now. Yet she was superstitiously afraid of the medi-
, cine chief; Cody had already seen that.
Nakona did not come out to meet the palefacé. Cody
saw through this move well enough. The wily old fel-

low did not wish to give his people an opportunity to see

him hobnobbing familiarly with the white man. And
Nakona must have known that ay knew him to be atl
arrant faker. ”

That there have been many wonderful men—many

“prophets” and “holy men” among the Indian tribes of}

the West—there can be no doubt. Especially among 4

people like the Kickapoos, who had kept their blood pure,
and their religion undefiled, these ascetics were likely to
rise up at any time and stir the people with their oratory,
or with the “miracles’’ they performed. Even to become

 

hel
fo!

pit

W |

Fall

Wi

de
ot
Tl

sh

Ke

se.

se

 

of

 
ry

ot

he
ad
th

li-

dy

{oe

nd
an

ry,
me

entailed fastings and waitings on the spirits of the air

kona’s reputation.

Eee

THE, BUFFALQ

a neophite of the class of medicine chiefs, in some tribes,.
3
and of the elements, which ceremonies, in themselves,
were enough to turn the brain of‘an unfed man and make
him insane enough to do and speak strange things. All
Indians are spiritualists, and many of them are mediums.

The power of such» endowed men over the rabble is
marvelous. ;

But Nakona, Cody knew, was an ignorant faker. Years
before he had been put to the test by a really accom-
plished medicine chief. Treachery—the under-handed
murder of his antagonist—was all that had saved Na-
Now, when, somewhere toward mid-
night, the medicine chief sent word for the paleface to
be brought to the medicine-lodge, Cody went without
hesitation. He was accompanied by two of the older
alerted the tribe, and all three stalked solemnly into the
dim lodge, in which the medicine chief was supposed to
work his wonders,

As they entered, Cody saw not alone the blanketed
figure of the medicine-man sitting in the center; but
the small light from without revealed to the quick eye
of the scout a slighter figure, squatted in a far corner
of the lodge. Instantly he guessed who this was, and he
crossed over to the place and seated himself near. He
held his own breath after it became dark and still again—
for every soul in the universe breathes differently. Right,
as it were, at his ear, he could hear the hurried, pal-
pitating breathing of the slight figure he had deseried.

Finally eld Nakona’s voice boomed through the lodge:

“The white man has been brought here because he
doubts the power of the spirits to commune with my
people. The spirits have told‘my people to allow no
white man to cross these lands. Where the shod hoof,
or the iron wheel leave their mark, on that trail other
shod feet, and other wheels follow. So it has always
been. The palefaces with Long Hair must turn back,
and go another way, of the vengeance of the noe

will be vented upon them.”

“Nakona is a great chief,” said Cody, with care. “He
doubtless communes with the spirits. But there are
greater spirits than those with whom he communes.
These spirits have foretold to Long Hair that no harm
shall befall either the palefaces or the Kickapoos if the

|Kickapoos, my brothers, allow my companions and my-

self to pass on over this trail.”

“Does Long Hair require a sign?’ demanded’ the
sepulchral voice of Nakona,

“He does,” responded Cody firmly.

“Then let Long Hair wait—and beware.”

There was a movement in the center of the lodge as
though Nakona arose and stalked to the flap. The flap

swayed in the night wind. This was to represent the

departure of the spirit of the medicine-man on its quest
of the all-powerful spirits with which it commtned..

Toy

BILL, STORIES, :  2F
There was no sound but the breathing of the four ranged
around the lodge. The foxy old Nakona breathed so
softly that even Cody’s sharp ears could noe Metre 7
sound.

Suddenly there was a rustling overhead—followed by
the flapping of great wings in the apex of the miedicine-.
lodge. The sound continued, and finally a great bird—.
but completely hidden by the pitch-darkness of the place
—seemed to settle down from aloft. The wind stirred by
its Happing wings breathed upon the scout’s cheek.: Sud-:
denly a voice spoke—the voice of the bird. It was a:
shrill, cracked ventriloquistic effort. on the. pee of Na-.
kona :

“My people! fou of the naletaces.
Beware of the paleface!”

This the croaking voice repeated over dnd over again. '
It was eery enough. Cody heard the person next to him
move and shudder, with a little catch in her.voice. He
reached out suddenly and seized-a small, smooth hand.
He had been quite sure that his neighbor was W apahoka,
and now he was convinced. She tried to withdraw her
hand; but the scout would not let it go, and, he felt her
idder and tremble as the supposed voice of the “spirit
bird” repeated the warning again and again.

Finally the flapping .of the wings recommenced, and
the invisible bird rose into the peak of the lodge, and
finally was heard no more. —

Cody and the girl sat, side by side, with their backs
against the skin wall of the lodge. Before the bird had
fairly departed, the scout forced Wapahoka’s hand be-
hind her until her fingers touched the taut skin wall.
There he made her nails make a scratching sound upon
the skin. It was a faint noise, but prac to reach
the ears of all in the lodge.

“What is that, oh, great Nakona?” demanded Cody,

in a trembling voice, as though the former manifesta-
tion had quite overpowered him.

My pepe Le

The medicine-man was not going to let such a chance’
slip, He knew he had not made the scratching noise
himself, but he accepted what he thought was a fine
chance to work another game. So he announced it to be
another spirit coming in the form of the ground-hog,
So, enter the ground-hog, which was imitated very clev-
erly indeed by the medicine-man. Meanwhile, Cody: -
squeezed Wapahoka’s hand significantly, and then
dropped it. He knew he had put a big spoke in Nakona’s
wheel, as far as the girl was concerned. . The medicine
man had overreached himself.

The ground- -hog. talked much after the fashion of the
bird. Nakona’s spirit came back to his body, and asked
if the paleface wished for other specimens of his magic.

“Nay, Nakona,” said Cody gravely. “Your magic is.
certainly wonderful. But as you know, among my. own.
people, Nakona, 1, too, am considered a magician. Your
spirits have spoken to you. Let me prove to you-—and

 
Se

to. Hie one men of. your nation —that ay spirits are
greater than Nakona’s.’””

There was a murmur of assent from the two old men,
who: had accompanied Cody into the presence of the
-medicine-man and the queen,

- “To-morrow. night,” said the scout clvty ‘after cer-
tain preparations which ye know, Nakona, must be made,
ere we, that are human, commune with the spirits, I will
display my power, and. let Brey spirits than these
speak to the Kickapoos.”

It was probable that old Nakona didn’t wish to agree.

But he dared not. refuse before his people. Therefore,
he muttered his consent, and that Cody should have the
use of the medicine-lodge for the “performance.” And
then the scout went to the hut assigned him, and put in
a most excellent night’s sleep. How he was to perform

__. for the next evening did not worry him in the least.

In the morning Cody called the chief men together,

-and told them that to succeed in this remarkable under -'

taking the Kickapoos must observe rules for that day.
No person now in the village should go a hundred yards
from the circle of teepees; no person outside should
~ come into the village. As for himself, he must prepare
for the ordeal of the night by going to the summit of
the nearest hill and remaining there, fasting, all day.
The hill in question was bare, and the whole village
could keep watch on him; so the Kickapoos s saw nothing
suspicious int this.

They. might have been suspicious, however, had they
known that for an hour, about noontime, while they

plainly’ saw the figure of the scout sitting back to the

village on the top of the hill, he was conversing with
Wolter Joe and Mirrivale, hidden in the low brush be-
yond. ‘the brow of the eminence. The “talking-leaves”
had brought this meeting about. Here certain plans
were laid, and then Cody’s two camrades hurried back
to the slowly moving wagon-train to put his commands
into effect.

At the fall ‘of dusk, Cody came solemnly down from
_ the hilltop. And he really felt solemn. It’s no fun for
a: hearty man to go twelve hours or more without food,
and he had fasted religiously.

At a certain hour the beating of a drum called the

entire village together into the lane at the head of which
Into the lodge filed the chief.

stood the medicine-lodge.
warriors, and Wapahoka, and Nakona. The occasion
was quite as ceremonious as that of the night before,
only. ‘with such a crowd in the hut there was little chance
‘for hocus-pocus. Nakona knew this, of course, and he
was divided between a feeling of fear of what the pale-
face’s power might be, and a belief that the very num-
bers of the spectators would interfere with Cody’s game.

Cody did not form a complete circle of the visitors.

_ At the back of the lodge a space was left free, in which
he stood. ‘When they were settled, in stilted oe of

earth;

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

Indian oratory, Buffalo Bill harangued the company, |

Knowing the history of the Kickapoos pretty thoroughly,
he recalled to their minds the names of many of the great
chiefs and warriors who had departed ‘for the happy

‘hunting-grounds.

“The spirits of these great men look down upon the

‘Kickapoos and watch over them. Is it not so, my broth-

ers? The spirits of the good, of every nation and tribe,
watch over the welfare of the living. Nakona, here,
brings to you the spirits of the elements in the form of
a bird, or a ground-hog. Nakona is a little man; he
communes with little spirits. It is given to me, Long
Hair, whont your old men know, and who has com.
muned in life with some of those chiefs that are dead
and gone now—it is given to him to know the minds
of the greater spirits. And they see more plainly than

a bird, that looks only from the cloud- heights upor thé :

or than a ground-hog that burrows in the earth.
tell ye, Kickapoos, say that no harm

7

And these spirits, 1

- ghall befall if the whites pass through your hunting —

lands.”

A murmur arose, led. by Nakona, who didn’t like
being called a little man.

“Show us a sign, Long Hair;
mured the crowd.

o>

show us a sigi,” mur-

- “That I will!” cried the scout, lifting up his voice: “Let

there appear before you one of your own great chiefs—
one who has long since sought the happy lands of the
Uae neiog life, but who watches over his people still in
spirit,’ and he named a dead and gone chief of the

Kickapoos whom he was pretty sure none of the old ]

men of this generation could remember, but who had

- been a great hero and figured largely in their legends.

As he ceased speaking the back wall of the lodge
parted, the two flaps being drawn aside. The night was
as dark as a starless night could be, and there being no
obstruction in the way—the lodge standing on the edge
of the village -the black bulk of the barren hill on
which Cody had fastened that day loomed up in the night.

For a minute or two the company blinked at the black-

ness of the night. Then suddenly a luminous spot ap-
peared upon the summit of the hill—just where the
scout had sat so long in “meditation.”

The luminous point grew. It seemed like a. writhing
flame of bluish tinge. Suddenly it disappeared, and in its
place the startled company saw the figure of a man out:
lined ‘completely in the same blue flame!

Slowly the weird figure turned until it faced the Ean
of the Kickapoos.
watchers in the medicine- -lodge, but from the people
outside in the lanes of the encampment. It was like @

universal sigh soughing through the village.

For the figure of fire was that of a handsome, stal-
ward warrior, in full Kickapoo war-dress, who stood with
folded arms looking down into the encampment.

A murmur rose not alone from the |

 

OU
le:

th
to
‘th

tu
ex

st

ck
Lb

ptr

ti

K
DU

th

$e

 
  

ny, ?

ily,
eat

py

the
the

ng
Mm -
ad
ids
lan

he

the

 

me again.

‘with a chuckle.

elsewhere, being seen.
Kickapoos, however, had hurried them through the lands”

 

 

CHAPTER XI.
ON TO PINK BUTTE,

The fey figure of the Indian was visible for some few
minutes on the summit of the hill, And meanwhile, not
a word was spoken in the Kickapoo encampment. Those
in the medicine-lodge were stricken dumb.-

Then slowly the fire began to die away.
outlines. of the figure disappeared. Then all that was
left was the point of blue flame on the ground. At last
that, too, was quenched, and the flaps of the lodge fell
to. When the Indians began to speak among themselves
they found that Cody had taken this moment for depar-
ture. He was gone from the camp, and his horse was
gone from the herd of Indian. ponies. But this last the
Kickapoos did not. discover until the morning. They
stack very closely to their lodges—men, women, and

children—auntil daybreak.

Meanwhile, the scout was riding hard after the wagon-
train, and from another direction Wolfer Joe and Mir
tivale were riding hard, too. While Cody had held the
Kickapoos in their village, Prevost and his men had
urged, the mules on, day and night, and the train was
now some miles beyond the encampment and well into
the desert of sand-hills. It was past daybreak when the
scout and his two assistants overtook the train.

“Are we pursued, mon?’ was Prevost’s- first query as
the scout rode up to the crawling train.

“That I can’t say. But if you’ve a fresh horse I’ll
go back after an hour’s sleep and see. I fancy, however,
that Nakona will be loath to let his people run up against
, He’s lost prestige enough.” —

“How: about the queen?” demanded Mirrivale, who

thad ridden up, still in his Indian dress.

“She’s a, plucky little piece of goods; but I think
she’s wise to Nakona’s magic now. And, by the way,
Arthur, if she should ever see you in those togs she cer-
tainly would wish to change her single state.”

“Ain’t he a beaut of a Injun?”’ demanded Wolfer Joe,
“J did that job in fine shape, if I do say

it myself. Guess them Kickapoo bucks would ha’ been
| willin? tuh swear he was togged out puffec’ly proper,
heh 2”

“They . were ay impressed,” admitted Cody. “Tf

they've been impressed sufficiently to let us alone now

that we are past them, Til be content.”

This seemed to be the condition of affairs, for Sal
days passed without a sign of Indians on their trail, or
The trouble they had with the

where game was more or less plentiful, and now in these
sand-hills the hunters could scarcely find half enough

fresh meat to keep the party satisfied. As for buffaloes, -

they hadn’t seen one of the creatures since leaving the

North Fork of the Platte.

This haste, however, to get out of the Kickapoo coun-

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

Slowly the ;

    

 

 

 

try encouraged Prevost and his friends to believe they
~ would arrive at their destination—Pink ‘Butte-—in fads:

vance of the party under Sam Nugent. And that was.
really the prize for which they had run so-much ‘risk in
taking to this northern, and shorter, trail. As for Mirr-
vale, he had not forgotten his desire to meet Brazos Pete’
Billings again. He believed that. the ‘scoundrel: had
robbed him of the yellow diamond, and, as She es Perse
Buffalo Bill, he proposed to get it -back.: 5

In the adventures of the journey WES Haglistin an had:
proven himself quite worthy of the scout’s first: confi’
dence. Mirrivale was fearless and cool headed, and had
the making of an excellent bordermian and® pioneer in
him. Even Wolfer Joe had re Speaking’ ¢ . He as
a “pilgrim and a stranger.”

Besides the lack of fresh game, there were long ae
over which the train had to go without fresh water,

The tanks in the wagors supplied a small and lukewarm ie

ration to each man and beast. When they arrived at a
bubbling spring, or deep water-hole or spring, after one
of these desert hauls, men and beasts were overcome
with joy, and fairly reveled in the sweet water.

Having left the Kickapoos and their queen behind, it
was not all plain sailing, however, for the scout and
his comrades. The three were quite as anxiously awake
for signs of some wandering party of Sioux, who in-
habited the lands to the north and east of the trail, This
country was so barren, however—being generally desig-
nated at that day by the term “bad lands’—that they
chanced to come upon no war-party. Nor did ‘they see
a soul but members of their own party for weeks.

It was here, however, that they finally\came upon the
first buffaloes. It was a stray herd of fifty or so; but

out of it Buffalo Bill and his two assistants got five car-
casses. Mirrivale’s interest was roused by. the killing
of the great creatures—three of the slain were fine bulls
—-and he was anxious to joina real hunt against the crea-
tures later in the season.

As for Wolfer Joe, nothing but the hundred dotate a
month and his promise kept him with the expedition after
this. The buffalo herd was being tr railed by a horde of
wolves, and as there was a bounty of half a deliar for
each wolf-scalp and the hides were worth about a dollar
apiece, the old man desired greatly to . gin his season's
th? ee

There was one point that Buffalo Bill had not ex
plained to Prevost and his friends before they started.
This trail through the sand-hill country did not lead di
rectly to Pink Butte. Some miles from that place it
joined thes regular trail over which the Nugent expe-
dition would make its way. One night they arrived and —
made camp in the usual form at the fork of these two
trails.

The party was somewhat worried as to whether by
any possible chance Nugent and his gang of claim-jump-

 
  
a) deal,’ the scout said.

   

THE BUFFALO

26

ers had. got ahead of them. Some were for dividing”

forces and having Prevost and some helpers ride for-
ward and relocate the Pink Butte claims at once. Cody,
however, advised against weakening the force with the
wagons. .

“An alee cE ieee is not yet passed — a good
“And this Sam Nugent is a bad
man—I know him of old.”

“Tf he’s got many like: PEACE Pete with him, they must

be a crew of bad men,’ ’ suggested Mirrivale.

“Brazos Pete is a lamb beside Sam himself,” declared
Cody. “I know them both.” See
_ “Aye, an’ so do I,” admitted Prevost. “They'd nae
be. above attackin’ th’ train, shootin’ it up, an’ leave it for
fowk tae think th’ Anjuns done it.”

“True for you,” returned Cody. “We'd best stick to-
gether. Wolfer Joe can ride ahead in the morning to
spy out along the trail, while I ride back and-see who
. is behind -us,’

But in the morning this program was changed oe
by the fact that Cody’s horse was a little lame, and his
owner wished to doctor the beast himself.

“You ride back, Mirrivale. Stick to the trail. If you
meet nobody within twenty miles or so who can tell you
anything about Sam Nugent, give it up ae return.
He'll be too far behind us to cause any worry.”

The Englishman rode away on this mission, thane the
unfamiliar trail, and. sighting no sign of humanity for
a good ten miles. Then in the distance, and from the
top of a low hill, he saw dust rising far ahead. The
long ribbon of dust betrayed a slow-moving caravan be-
neath it, and Mirrivale spurred his horse onward. As
he drew nearer—yet still too far away to distinguish the
first wagon or the animals that drew it—he was assured
by the length of the dust-cloud that he was approaching
a much longer train than that led by Alexander Prevost.

Suddenly, out of the cloud of dust, spurred a single
horseman. It was a white man the Englishman knew
by the way the figure rode. Soon it was near enough
for both riders to obtain some idea of the dress and arma-
ment of each other. The strange rider pulled in his
horse, rose in his stirrups, and waved his hat. Mirrivale
replied to the signal, and kept steadily on. Evidently
the stranger was friendly.

There had been “hold- “ups”
told him, and Mirrivale carried his carbine in his hands
as he drew near.

whose features were half-hidden from the Englishman
by the flapping brim of his hat.

“How goes it, neighbor ?” shouted the stranger, com-
ing within ear-shot. Wy. tor taking the back track ?”’

“Looking to see who is coming up behind us,” returned
Mirrivale, still riding forward. “Who you with?” —

rivale’ 's query with another, »

on these trails, Cody had

So, he noticed, did the other fellow,

“Who you with?” asked the stranger, ie to. Mir-

BILL STORIES.

 

“A bunch of folks from Platte City,” said the Enelish-
man cautiously.

“Shucks! didn’t know we had neighbors so near us, &

Yuh must have dropped back since yisterday ?”
“Ves.” said Mirrivale, “we did. Who did you say you
were?”

~ “Nugent's train. There’s fifteen wagons.

We j’ined

forces with a bunch that got mauled by Injuns ‘bout a §

hundred miles back. You folks have trouble?”

Mirrivale did not immediately reply. He had spurred
his horse very near to the other now, and tried to see
more of the man’s face.

_ “Who are you? what’s your name?” the, Englishman
suddenly called out.

With an oath the other suddenly pulled in his horse
and ‘slid like lightning over to the ground on the farther
side. He jerked up his rifle as he dropped, too, and firedy ,
“Brazos Pete, as I a yelled the See r Dye
been looking for you.”

“And yer'll see all yer want o me right yere!’” ex-
claimed the desperado. “How th’ coe yuh got ahead
of me on this yere trail I don’t see.’

He fired again. But Mirrivale, too, had oe to the
ground and put his horse between himself and his en-
emy. The two men were some rods apart—far enough
to make aiming over the backs of the uneasy horses any-
thing but certain. Pete, however, being an old-timer
at this game, deliberately shot down Mirrivale’s mount
with his third bullet.

The good horse staggered, groaned, «1.
knees, and rolled over, leaving its mao’ ©
to the villain’s fire. But Mirrivale’s Spirit WES
He did not flinch. Twice he had fired at He he could
see of Brazos Pete—the second shot at the legs of the
man, which showed under his horse’s belly.

And this bullet hit the mark. Brazos Pete yelled and
hopped on one foot.’ His head came above the saddle,
and Mirrivale sent the hat spinning from it. And then
he deliberately walked toward his enemy, firing as he
went ! ;

Tt was a duel to the death. Brazos Pete had the best
chance, for he was behind shelter. But the courage the
Englishman showed in approaching him evidently rat-
tled the desperado and his bullets flew wild.

 

CHAPTER XII. %
JOURNEY’S END...

The explosion of the guns had aroused attention at
the head of the long wagon-train which was comng up
behind Brazos Pete. Up the trail spurred four heavily
armed men and came upon the shooting-match just at this
point, Mirrivale was approaching the cowering Brazos
behind his horse with a deadly eee ne was a.
ling. ; ; iy

   

    

com!

 

 

 

    
 

sh-

us,

 

THE BUFFALO

“Hold #? your hands, Pete!” the Englishman com-
manded. “Drop your gun? Quick now!’

The scoundrel failed to see reenforcements coming-and,
having emptied the magazine of his rifle, ord the
command.

“Now hand over my diamond—hand it over I say, or
Vil shoot you down like a dog!’

“Wha—what diamond?” stammered Pete.

| “The -yellow diamond you tore from my watch-chain
the night you knocked me down in Platte City. You
know what I mean well enough, and you comply at once
with my demand or I'll certainly take the stone off your
dead body.”

The young fellow said it with so much emphasis that
the desperado believed he meant it. Perhaps Mirrivale
a He was not the tenderfoot he had been when Buf-

o Bill first sighted him in Platte City.

“The desperado put his hand into the breast of his shirt /

and, still held under the fascinating spell of Mirrivale’s
carbine, placed a little packet in the Englishman’s hand.
The latter felt the shape of the valuable gem within the
coverings and, without waiting to unwrap it, he slipped
the packet in his pocket and, to Brazos Pete’s surprise,
yaulted into the latter’s saddle.

It was at that moment that the four men riding at top
speed up the trail halloed to him. Pete turned and saw
that, had he delayed a moment or two, he might yet have
won out.

With a yell a rage and Po he jerked_the bowie
fromthe back of his neck and sent it hurtling after
the Englishman. But the latter had struck spurs to the
horse and the latter leaped away up the trail at a pace
that made Pete’s act useless.

The desperado urged his friends on after Me erivale.
however, by yelling to them at the top of his voice that
he had been robbed and shot by the Englishman. One of
the cavalcade was\Sam Nugent himself, and he was a
man after Brazos Pete’s own heart. The four pursuers
larruped their horses and fired after Mirrivale: but
fortunately Brazos Pete had been well mounted, and Mir-
tivale had got a good start.

Te was some fifteen miles behind his friends, however ;
and that fifteen miles, with the quartet in such close pur-
suit, were the hardest miles the young man “had ever
ridden. As he came in sight of the Prevost train he
emptied his revolver in the air so as to attract attention.
Instantly he was recognized, and Cody, Prevost, _and
Macaleer rode out to meet him.

In a few words Mirrivale explained what had befallen
him, while the then from the other wagon-train ap-
proached more cautiously. Finally Sam Nugent, haul-
ing in his horse just out of gun-shot, raised his voice
and hailed fhe group ahead:

“We want thar feller, gents. You may be all right

 

BILL STORIES. | a.

Oe but he’s a thief and has shot up one of my
men.’

“You'll have to put us all in the same category, Sam,”
said Cody, riding out a bit and taking the lead in the
conference. ‘We know all about what he did to Brazos
Pete, and I sanction it.”

“Who the dickens are you?” demanded Sam.

“And
what have you to say about it?”

One of his comrades evidently recognized Buffalo Bill,
for he said something quickly to Nugent.

“Look here! Are you Buffalo Bill?’

“I.bear that title—yes,” returned the scout.

“You're a Unted States scout. I call on you to hand
that feller over to me. He’s shot a man, I tell yuh, and
robbed him,”

“And if he’d shot the whole bunch o’ ye, ’twould ha’e
been sma’ loss!’ yelled Prevost, unable to igeep still
longer.

“By mighty! Is that Alex Prevost?” roared Nugent.

“Ye may weel ask, ma mannie. “Tis indeed himsel’.”

“How the devil did you git here?” cried the wondering
Nugent. :

“Aye, Sam, thae’s mair ways o” skinnin’ a rat than be-
ginnin’ at his tail,” returned the rejoiced Scot. “Ve did
nae see us pass ye in the nicht?’ oe

“No. Nor you didn’t pass us. I have Buffalo Bill to
thank for this, I presume?” cried Nugent.

Obs it is not necessary for you to feel any gratitude
to me,’ remarked the scout easily. ie

“Ah! But it isn’t all over. yet,” tht cated Nugent,
shaking his head.

“It’s all over but the shouting, Sam,” declared Cody.
“Don’t lose sight of that point. We're between you and
Pink Butte, and if you, or any of your people, try to
pass us, there’s bound to be trouble.”

“You dare to block the trail, do you?”

“We dare. And we’ve men enough to make my threat
good. You'll pass us neither afoot, nor on horseback,
neither day nor night. And if you bring up your
wagons, the trail’s too narrow and the sand too deep for
them to get by. You’ve been beaten, Sam, and that’s all
there is fo it.%

It was all a bluff! With the preponderance of Nu-
gent’s numbers, he might have attacked Prevost’s train
and put it out of commission. He might have wrecked
the four wagons belonging to the Scotchmen. He could
have taken a portion of his men and ridden around the
Scots and reached Pink Butte first.
ing tone taken by Cody, and his cool assurance, left Nu-
gent and his friends limp.

The four rode back, breathing threats and slaughter

as they went; but actually not a man from the Nugent

train tried to push by the smaller party that kept steadily

on toward Pink Butte. The next day Prevost and two
of his friends rode ahead to restake the claims the Scot

&e

But the command- .

 

4
f
|
   

28 THE BUFFALO
and his first partner had opened. Cody and his two
partners guarded the rear of the wagon-train, and so
they kept on to their destination. When the Nugent
party arrived at Pink Butte the best claims were already
staked out and held by determined men, backed by rifles
and plenty of ammunition.

Wolfer Joe, to whom digging gold never appealed, had
at/ once departed with his two mangy mules, for certain
valleys in which he had seen plenty of wolves and their
tracks on the way up. Mirrivale, however, having re-
covered his jewel, was bitten sorely by the goldbug.
Prevost and his friends had certainly preempted what
looked to be the best claims; but Mirrivale settled on one,
put up a shack, bought tools and provisions with the
money Cody paid him-—and both were terribly high, as
the miners had to sell out of their meager stores—and
set to work scratchng the rocky soil for “color.”

‘Cody, who had seen a dozen gold-rushes, shook his
head over this business. =;

“You'd better come with me and get your. regular
wages, Arthur,” he said. “You are a good man, and I

BILL STORIES,

“What will youl do?” 4 i . ; :
“Go back to the river and bring another gang of gold
hunters out here somewhere—unless something better

turns up. But not over the northern trail again. I might!

not be able to fool the Kickapoos twice.”
“No, Cody. “I’m obliged to you, and am proud of the

fact that you consider me something besides a tenderfoot
—or a fool!” said Mirrivale.. “But I’ve got other things.

to think of than a mere living to acquire. Some time I’d
like to go back to the old folks and show ’em that I’m

wotth something. I’ve got a reputation as a loafer over @
there—that I never stick to things when I begin ‘em.

Now I’m going to stick here—for awhile, at least.’
“Good luck to you, then, Arthur!” said Cody warmly.

“Til be around this way again, it’s likely, after a few
months. I hope I'll find you've struck it rich.”
And so the scout rode out of the new camp and—for

the time—out of Arthur Mirrivale’s life.

THE END.

_ Next week’s issue, No. 2093, is entitled “Buffalo Bill |

in Peril; or, The Red Amazons of the Niobrara.”

 

 

 

ABOUT THE EARLY.
NUMBERS OF THE

can assure you of steady employment.”

 

 

 

 

MEDAL, LIBRARY
No.

150—F rank Merriwell’s Schooldays.

B teceive hundreds of letters every week from readers asking if we can supply the early numbers of Tip Top
(G containing Frank’s adventures. In every case we are obliged to reply that numbers 1 to 300 are entirely out of °
print. We would like to call the attention of our readers to the fact that the Frank Mérriwell Stories now
being published in book form in the Medal Library are inclusive of these early numbers. The first book to appear
was No. 150 entitled ‘‘Frank Merriwell’s Schooldays.’? We give herewith a contplete list of all stories that have been “s
published in book form up to the time of writing. We will be glad to send a fine colored. catalogue of the Medal
Library which is just filled with good things for boys, upon receipt of a one-cent stamp to cover postage.

 

&

 

MEDAL, LIBRARY
No.

a71—F rank Merriwell’s Chase,

 

276—Frank Merriwell in Maine. ’

 

167—Frank Merriwell’s Chums.
178—Frank Merriwell’s Foes.
184——Ftank Merriwell’s Trip West.
189—Frank Mertiwell Down South.
193—F rank Merriwell’s Bravery.
1907—Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour,
201—Frank Merriwell in Europe.
205—Frank Merriwell at Yale.

209—F rank Merriwell’s Sports Afield.
213—Frank Merriwell’s Races.
217—Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour.
225—F rank Merriwell’s Courage.
2290—Frank Merriwell’s Daring.
233—Frank Merriwell’s Athletes.
237—Frank Merriwell’s Skill.
24o—Frank Merriwell’s Champions.
244—Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale,
247—Frank Merriwell’s Secret.
asi—Frank Merriwell’s Danger, |

280—-Frank Merriwell’s Struggle.
284—Frank Merriwell’s First Job.
288—Frank Merriwell’s Opportunity,
20o2—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Luck.
206—Frank Merriwell’s Protégé.
300—Frank Merriwell on the Road.
304—Frank Merriwell’s Own Company.
308—Frank Merriwell’s Fame.
312—Frank Merriwell’s College Chums.
316—Frank Merriwell’s Problem.
320—Frank Merriwell’s Fortune.
324—Frank Merriwell’s New Comedian.
328+-Frank Merriwell’s Prosperity.
332—Frank Merriwell’s Stage Hit.
330—Frank Merriwell’s Great Scheme.
340—Frank Merriwell in Englarid.
344—F rank Merriwell on the Boulevards.
348—Frank Merriwell’s Duel.
352—Frank Merriwell’s Double Shot.

a

 

254—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty.

356—Frank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories.

 

258—Frank Merriwell in Camp. ~
262—Frank Merriwell’s Vacation.
267—Frank Merriwell’s Cruise.

 

 

 

 

 

359—Frank Merriwell’s Confidence.
362—Frank Merriwell’s Auto. °
365—Frank Metriwell’s Fun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Price of the Merriwell Books is Ten Cents per Copy. At all Newsdealers

 

 

 
 

   
 

 

 

  
 
 

   

Ni
   
 
  

cold.
etter
light

f the
rfoot
ings
eid

Tm
over
“em,

mly,
few |

-for

 

| 269-—Buffalo Bill and the Robber Ranch ine,

 

pais EVERY TU ESDAY.

BEAUTIFUL SREVRED COVERS

Buffalo Bill wins his way into the heart of every
one who teads these strong stories of stirring adventure

on the wide prairies of the West.
Boys, if you want tales of the West that are
drawn true to life, do not pass these by.

PRICE FIVE

CENTS PER

COPY

For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, by the publishers to any address upon- receipt of price in money or postage stamps

 

 

HERE ARE THE

267—Buffalo |Bill in’ the Cafton of Death; of, Ringed
In by Navajos.

208-—Buffalo Bill and Billy the Kid; or, The Desperados
of Apache Land.

or, The
White Tarantula of Texas.

270—Buffalo Bill in the Land of Wonders; or, The Mad
Chief of-the Madocs.

| 271—Butfalo Bill and the Traitor Soldier; or, Fair Inez,

the Pear! of the Post.

272—Buffalo Bill’s Dusky Trailers; or, Thé Bandits at
Bay.

273 ER Bill’s Diamond Mine; or, The Bedouins
of the Plains.

| 274—~Buftalo Bill and the Pawnee Gernahe: or, The Ven-

detta, or Death: +
275—Buffalo Bill’s Scarlet Hand;
Blood Stain.
276—Buffalo Bill Running the Cantley: or, The Wolves
of the Emigrant Trail:
277—Buftalo Bill’s Leap:an the Dark;
of Santibell.
278—Buffalo Bill’s Daring Plunge; of, .The Grisly Ghost
of Mahoe.
—Buffalo Bill’s Desperate Mission; or, The Round-
up in Hidden Valley.

or, ‘The Accusing

Gz, ane Outcast

| 20—Buffalo Bill’s Ghost Raid; or, Hot Times at Bubble

oe

291—Buffalo Bill and the Mad Millionaire; or,

 

LATEST TITLES:

281—Buffalo Bill’s Traitor Guide:

or, The Vengeance
Of Alkali Rete. eee
282—Buffalo Bill’s Camp-fires;

Snake River Crossing.

or, The Bad Man of

-283—Buffalo Bill Up a Stump: , or, The Pawnee Faker of

the Bitter Root.

284-—Buffalo Bill’s Secret Foe; or, The Wizard of Windy

Gulch.

285—Buffalo Bill’s Master-stroke ;
Death Valley:

286—Buffalo Bill and the Masked
John, the Half-breed. .

287—Butfalo Bill and the Brazos Terror ; pr, they Lone
Star Outlaws.

288— Buffalo Bill’s Dance of Death;
Hawks of Snake River.

289--Butfalo Bill and the Creepitis Terror; or,
Black Spider of the Shoshones.

290—-Buffalo Bill and the Brand of Cain; or, The Wan-
dering Jew of the Plains.

or, The Specter of

lystery; or, Teton

or, a Night
The

The
Redskin Rovers.
292—-Buffalo Bill’s Mediéine-lodge; or,
. Queen of the Kickapoos.
293--Buffalo Bill in Peril; or, The Red Amazons of
the Niobrarah.

The White

294—Buffalo Bills Strange Pard; or, Wolfer Joe on

ae War-path.,

 

IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS of our libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they 6an bé obtained from this office direct.
Out out and fill in the following order blank and vue it t2 us with the price of the books you want and we will send them to you by réturn mail,

POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME A3 MONEY
STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Avenue, New York City.

Gentlemen :—Enclosed f1NG2 2 2-s eee cents fer which please send me:

wean ol copies of TIP TOP NOB.. 1s¢5cdeh ays sveihvavadssivese.-.i---
noe et cee | & «NICK CARTER AN GB eee ee ence uae oy
| S DIAMOND DICK: NOS, .cos2hi 1 be8i, hia g edb ook

Shiue Sepa Dea aaa a Si aici Street ent ING ou eG oh

pas euNeD RSL AED ee ha OU cL ph OO

Rees copies of BUFFALO BILL NOB. 8 eos deaas aed cheeueiougsasass
“« “BRAVE AND BOLD Nos.......- OMe eevee nl lo
“© ROUGH RIDER NOS. aniigeser ea) Yaa ney ee

ee UC Urs UA OEE bea ee POWsde ce Biel a

eer ieee ere ae eek erg cere mena

       

 

 
 

 

SIAN DSOME COLORED COVERS

ie

Never has Burt L. Standish written such interesting tales of the
adventures of the Merriwell brothers, Frank and Dick, as are now appear-
ing in this weekly. Mr. Standish has a world-wide circle of friends and
he is putting forth his best efforts to amuse and -entertain them. - Boys,
you have no idea of what a grand feast he is preparing for you,
Top’s stories are going to astonish you. Do not fail to get it.

PRICE FIVE CENTS PER COPY

ISSUED EVERY FRIDAY.

 

Tip J

 

For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, by the publishers upon receipt of price in money or postage stamps

 

 

HERE ARE THE.

528—Dick Meeriwell Dared; or, The Grapple at Wells-
burg.

529—Diek Merriwell’s Dismay; or, The Departure of
June.

530—Frank Merriwell’s Son; or, The Mark of the Star.

Merry House.

532—Frank Merriwell’s House-Party; or, The Rustle
with the Rovers.

533—Dick Merriwell’s Summer Team; or, Baseball in
the Blue Hills.

534——Dick Merriwell’s Demand; or, The Draw at Mad-
-. awaska. ~

535—Dick Merriwell’s Slabmate ; or, The Boy from

Bloomfield.

536—Frank Merriwell’s Summer Camp; or, The Athletic-

school in the Woods.
537—Frank Merriwell’s Proposal; or, Starting the Sport
in the League.

538—Frank Merriwell’s Spook-hunters; or, The Mys-

terious Island of Mad Lake.
539—Dick Merriwell’s Check; or, The Hot Bunch From
Happy Camp.
~ §40—Dick Merriwell’s Sacrifice; or, Team Work That
“— Vold:

YF YOU WANT aoe BACK NUMBERS of our libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they ean be obtained from this office direct. |
he following order blank and send it to us with the price of the books you want and we will send them to you by xeturn raail.

~ Gut out and fill in ¢
POSTAGB STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY.

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Avenue, New York City 620 oe Se ee Sea Ae 190
Gentlemen :—Enclosed find............ ecnts for which please send me: aries

Spee: copies of TIP TOP NOB...0cc:cenenseteevodineeraonsteeenaea, — .seeve--COplés of BURPALO BIEL NOs os ee kee

Seeskaee “ “NICK CARTER NOs chi coer ieee ee eae BRAVE AMD BOLD Nose ee: --

grererses, {DIAMOND DICK > NOS..-0.2cceeeeeeee cece eset) eee “. “ROUGH RIDER. _—Nos.---..--.- sess e ee ee

AMO... ccc cccccecccncccccccscccncc- os snnnescenaes Street and No..............- oe “to Statecsec.c: ues sous

| 543—Frank Merriwell’s Pride;
531—Frank Merriwell’s Old Flock; or, The Reunion at}
} 544—Frank Merriwell’s Young. Winners; or, The Stars |

 

UWeeemisrscsecaterscececaes TOWDicce cocci oeeces

LATEST TITLES:

ick Merriwell’s Heart: or, eatin the Hard |

> Lock  Sizeaia

542—Frank Merriwell’s New Auto;
Destruction.

or, The Lure to

“ors The Double-Header

at Pineville.

in the Blue Hills.

545—Dick Merriwell’s Lead; or, Bound to Hold First |
Place:

546—Dick Merriwell’s Influence; or, On the Right Roaa

ae At diast:

547—Dick Merriwell’s Top Notch; or, Against Odds,
Fate, and Scheming.

548—Frank Merriwell’s Kids; or, , The World Beaters In

New York. |

549—Frank Merriwell’s . ee aker:
Game Without Guns,

Or, Hanne Big

550—Dick Merriwell, Peering: or, First Days at Yale.

551—Dick Merriwell’s Progress; or, The First Chance
some ON. the Field.
552—Dick Merriwell, Half-back ; or, Getting into the
Game at Last.
553—Dick Merriwell’s Resentment or, In Defense of
His Honor.

(

sS

pha:
fell

 

186-

af

Cut
PO,

ST

Na

 
  

:
10
ce

RT

of.
4

 

 

SSUED EVERY WEDNESDAY...

 

BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVERS

_ There are a large number of boys to whom stories about the same

haracters,, week after week, become monotonous.

It was to” suit these ©

ellows that we published Brave anp Botp. ee

Each story is full 30,000 words in length and is (complete i in’ “teal “

aving no connection with any that went before or will come after,‘

Don't miss these,

 

PRICE FIVE CENTS PER core

For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, by the publishers to any address upon receipt of price in money or postage stamps

 

 

m78—The Lone Range Rider; or, Among the Rustlers of the Bad ¢ 104—The. Border Nomad; or, Sharper Stokes’ Double Deal. By.

Lands. By Herbert Bellwood.

179—Warbling William; or, The Singing Detective’ of Rocket
Range. By Lieutenant A: Kk. Sims.

i8—Engine No. 13; or, The Youngest Driver on the Line. By

Engineer James Fisk.

1—The Lost Chief; or, Gordon Keith’s Adventures Among
the Redskins. By Lawrence White, Jr.

182—South-Paw Steve; or, The Medford Boys and Their Rivals.
By: Richard Field.

13—The Man of Fire; or, Iron Fern, of Rocket Gulch: By
Herbert Bellwood.

n&4—On Sampan and Junk; or, Gordon Keith Adrift in China.
By Lawrence White, Tr.

185—Dick Hardy’s School Scrapes;
By Robert, Reid.

186—Cowboy Steve; or, The Bond et Blood. By Herbert Bell-
wood,

187—Chip Conway’s ‘White Chae or, Trailing ie emond
Lifters. By Inspector: Robert Barnes.

88—Tracked Across Europe; or, The Clue of the Moving
Pictures. By Lawrence White, din:

18—Cool Colorado: or, Ay Cowboy’s | Bight for Fortune. By
Albert W. Aiken.

190—Captain. Mystery; or, The Brave Girl of Boulder Bar. By
Herbert Bellwood.

191—Silver Sallie; or, The Three Queer Pards of Poker Pocket.
Bye Cowdrick.

po~The Ranch Raiders: or, Secret of the Golden Dagger. By
Capt. ‘Hal Hazelton.

yA Baptism of Fire; or, At the Front With the ano: By
Mark’ Darran,

or, The Rivals: of No. 21.

‘aes:
imams

Ao6—A Strange

201—Dick Ellis, the Nighthawk Reporter;

 

Herbert Bellwood.
195—Mark Mallory’s Struggle; or, Friends and Foes At, West _
Point.” By. Lieut. Fred Garrison, US SEA:
Clue; or, The Sharks and Sharps of New York,
By James Fisk.
197—-Ranch Bob; or, The Boy Sleuth of Kansas,
‘Traill,
198—The Electric Wizard: or, Through: Air and Water to the
Pole. By Emerson Bell.
199—Bob, the Shadow; or, Solving a Double. “Mystery. By
Richard Hackstoff. :
200—Young Giants of the Gridiron; or, Reine. For the Foot- =~
ball Pennant. By Frank Merriwell. ;

By Richard

or, The Biggest, News
“Beat” on Record, ‘By Robert: Reid: -
202—Pete, the Breaker Boy; or, The Young Coal: Nine Ferret.
By. Richard Hackstaff. ay
203—Young Maverick, the Boy From Nowhere?
derfoot Oil King of Texas, By Sam Rusher:
204—-Tom, the Mystery Boy; or, Trailed. By a Bectet Shadow.
By Robert Reid.
205—Footlight Phil; or, From Call- boy to Star,
Henry: Abbott. | .
206—The Sky Smugglers; or, Gordon Keith's ‘Greit Balloon
Chase.’ By Lawrence White, vr :
207—Bart Benner’s Mine; or, The Boy Whe Got There,
Lieut, Lionel. Lounsberry.. v
208—The Young Ranchman; or, Bart Benner Going it ‘Mtone.
By the “author of ‘ ‘Bart eG Mine.’ °
209-—-Bart Benner’s ‘Cowboy Days; The: Young Hunter.-of 7
the Big Horn. By the Ties Of “Bart Benner’s Mine.”

a Manag ger .

ie

If YOU WANT ANY BAOK NUMBERS of our libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they ean be obtained. from this: office direct.
Cut out and fill in the following order blanm aad s0. send it to us with the price of the books you want and we will send ee te Nodes oy Fenn. males

POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME A

5

  
 
  

SIREET. & SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seyenth Avenue, New York City. pnesecanscennarntretenryces A ae
Gentlemen :—Enclosed find............ cents for which please sendme cea ‘
».._..copies of TIP TOP Noe Us sia ssircn) a iasase Re ay: copies of BUFFALO BILL NOB... . seen eeenceesnnnwereapgnencnnens .
«NICK CARTER PE soe Ge os sakes peso st -~ veesscees | “@ BRAVE AND BOLD NOS cose aasse as isu
6 te “ DIAMOND DICK BiB teseses Ee ounartiee ait et EM SUES g es ROUGH RIDER _ Nos pee . eae Ase eee Se ene aee neem

  

 

 

br, he: Ten: i

     
 

 

SETS eS ear Le ages REE OME ey) eee ete

 

ISSUED EVERY MONDAY.

HANDSOME COLORED Cove

 

Ted Strong wants to make your acquaintance, boys, and we a.
convinced that you will be proud to have him as a friend. Tl].
tales of his adventures among the cowboys are full of fascinatir
He is known to every one as ine of the Wild Wes

interest.

and he upholds the title.

PRICE FIVE CENTS PER ‘COPY

For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, by the publishers upon receipt of price In money or postage stamps

 

 

HERE ARE THE LATEST TITLES:

116—King of the Wild West’s Gulch Diggings; or,
Stella’s Star Role.
117—King of the Wild West’s Motor-Car;
Fosdick’s Peril.
118—King of the Wild West’s Duty; or, Stella Cast
Away in the Wilderness.
~I19g—King of the Wild West’s Wild-Goose Band; or,
Stella’s Long Flight.
120—King of the Wild West's Galleon; or, Stella’s
_ Spanish Treasure.
121—King of the Wild West’s Fire Fight; or, Stella in
_ the Burning Forest.
122—King of the Wild West’s Bluff; or, How Stella
Saved the Day.
123—King of the Wild West’s Nerve; or, Stella in the
Saddle.
124—King of the Wild West’s Helping Hand; or, Stella,
the Girl Range-rider.
125—King of the Wild West’s Buckskin Guide; or,
Stella at the Grand Round-up.
126—King of the Wild West’s Strategy; or, Stella’s
Trick. Pony.

or, Stella

127—King of the Wild West’s Tangled Trail; or, The

Disappearance of Stella.

128—King of the Wild West’s Long Ride; or, Stella

Lost on the Red Mesa.

136—King of the Wild West’s Trail;

 

129—King of the Wild West’s Phantom; or, Stella
| Danger

130—King of the Wild West’s Bode ob crs.

Stella’s Fort in the Coulée.
131—King of the Wild West’s Corral;
Brought the Warning.
132—King of the Wild West’s Tender’: >:
Stella’s Surprise Party.
133—King of the Wild’ West’s Nighi

~What Happened to Stella.
134—King of the Wild West’ s Outlaw ; or, Stella to
Rescue.

Vvidiigics ,

135—King of the Wild West at the Throttle; or, Stes

in the Flames.

Bill Blue.

137—King of the Wild West’s Race; or, Stella Amc 5
or, How;

- the Seris.
138—King of the Wild West’s Fire-signal ;
Stella Foiled the Marauders.

139—King of the Wild West Rides the Line; or, Ste.

Saves Old Glory.

140—King of the Wild West’s Treasure; or, Stella .

the Walls of Montezuma.

141—King of the Wild West’s Totem; or, Stella Mal:

a New Maxim.

%

 

Mf YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS of our libraries and eannot procure them from newsdealers, ites can be obtained from this office din »
Cut out and fill in the following order blank and send it to us with the pries of the books you want and we will send them to you by ae Wit

~ POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY.

- STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Avenue, New York City. pe ees coeceecneass scednmearcntca<s owen. 1.
Gentlemen :—Enclosed find............ cents for which please send me: ‘ ‘
_----e..00pies of TIP TOP Nee EOI A ic copies of BUFFALO BILL. —_NoS.-...-22--02-0e---+- ee eeneeeeeeee
—-..--0 ** “NICK CARTER Ness ee Leap SED Cavan a ee ei emus « “BRAVE AND BOLD. NOS. ..2 2-02-22 222-222 - eee eee ee eats
ie: “<  « DIAMOND DICK Wee ee See) “ROUGH RIDER) NOB. .2. 20-22-22 e nee eee

Wamo Amana n ean ann nm meee mannan eat, aan Street and No...... Re) ennenaan OD cconk ogee eg SUNOS nt

or, How Sty)

of, Stella: Fine

has Mita}
cg Ne ae 6

 

 
 

 

 

 
 

 

THE FAVORITE LIST |

FIVE: CENT LIBRARIES

 

 

 

 

 

Buffalo Bill Stories

Buffalo Bill is the hero of a thousand exciting -adven-
tures among the Redskins. These are giver to our
boys only in the Buffalo Bill Stories. They are bound
to interest and please you. oe.

searing Throne nemeaie ee ep

 

 

 

 

ROUGH RIDER WEEKLY

Ted Strong was appointed deputy mar-
shal by accident, but he resolves to use his
authority and rid his ranch of some very
tough bullies, He does it in such a slick
way that everyone calls him ‘‘King of the
Wild West” and he certainly deserves his
title. $100 in cash are given to the readers
of. this publication, every three months.
Buy a copy and learn how to come in for a
share of it.

MIGHT AND MAIN

These are stories of the adven-
tures of boys. who succeeded in
climbing the ladder of fame by
honest effort. No more inter-
esting tales can be imagined.
Each number is at least one-third
longer than the ordinary five-
cent library.

DIAMOND DICK WEEKLY
Fhe demand for stirring stories

of Western adventure is admirs

ably filled by this library. Every

up-to-date boy ought to read just

how law and order are estab-

lished and maintained on our

Western plains by Diamond Dick,

Bertie, and Handsome Harry.

NICK CARTER WEEKLY:

We know, boys, that there is
no need of introducing to you
Nicholas. Carter, -the reatest
sleuth that ever lived. Every
number containing the adven-
tures of Nick Carter has a peculiar,
but delightful, pow of fascina-
tion.

 

BRAVE AND BOLD

Every boy who prefers variety
in his reading matter, ought to
be a reader of Brave and Bold.
All these were written by authors
who are past masters in the art
of telling boys’ stories. Every

tale is complete in itself.

whose only name is

 

BOWERY BOY LIBRARY

The adventures of a poor waif
‘‘Bowery
Billy.” Billy is the true product
of the streets of New York. No
boy can read the tales of his trials
without imbibing some of that
resource and courage that makes
the character of this homeless boy
stand out so prominently.

 

 

 

The Tip Top Weekly

Frank Merriwell and his brother Dick are known and loved by over cne

hundred and fifty thousand of the best boys in the United States.
vigorous fellows who dare to do right no matter what the.
We are sure you will like it.

both clean-cut,

consequences. Get the current number.

They are