A WEEKLY PUBLICATION © Fe_1_ DEVOTED 10 BORDER HISTORY _ ~ 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, oie W. F. Cody), who is known all over the world as the king of scouts. No. 268. NEW YORK, June 30, 1906. Price Five Cents. OR, of Apache Land. The Desperadoes By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.” CHAPTER 1. MISS SIMPSON, OF DENVER. Buffalo Bill, the world-famed scout and Indian-fighter, was sitting in his room, in the little adobe hotel, at Glen- cove, in the wildest part of Arizona. The sun came into the room through the deep-cut win- dow in the thick wall, and fell full on the floor. The scout had but a moment before been standing by the window looking down into the dusty street, and had beheld there a slim female figure hurrying toward the low hotel entrance. He had not, however, given that figure any attention. His mind was occupied with certain reports concerning the devilish and murderous doings of an Apache desper- “4 2do, called Billy the Kid. - The great scout knew this young rascal well. Billy the Kid was not a boy, however, as the name might suggest. ber of the San Carlos tribe of Apaches, than whom no more murderous wretches have ever existed on the American continent. The San Carlos Apaches, together with the White Mountain Apaches, and other notorious branches of that He was a young man, by birth a mem-, notorious tribe, had made the Southwest run red with blood. Of Billy the Kid, however, better things had been ex- : pected. He had been taken from the tribe when little more than a child, and sent East to a famous government school for Indian children, in the hope that education and con- tact with the whites would cause him to become “civi- lized,” and that when he returned to his tribe it would be as a civilizing influence. But Billy the Kid, on returning to Arizona, had turned desperado and murderer, and now was the leader of a band of desperadoes as bad in every way as himself, and a terror to the whole of that vast region sometimes known as Apache Land. Ranchmen had been slain, settlers murdered, stages robbed, and the scattered settlements kept in a state of terror. He was still at large; and the thoughts of the scout were concerned with plans whereby this young desperado might be stopped in his career of blood. The outlook was not bright for bringing the work of Billy the Kid to an end. He and his band were ubiquitous. Well supplied with 1 es As inate enic La bisa Bamber \ 05 INE AA RS caer ee onan mache tte fl TET EES OIE EO 2 THE BUFFALO tireless horses, and being able to travel on foot a hundred miles in twenty-four hours, when need demanded, over a desert and mountainous waste where pursuit was dif- ficult and sometimes impossible for white men, he was able to escape all efforts made to bring him to justice. Worst of all, possibly, it was known that in various towns he had white allies, who kept him posted concern- ing the movements of treasure-trains and richly laden stages, and of the efforts and schemes of the government agents to bring about his capture. These allies he paid well, and they had been so far. faithful to him. As to who they were, or what their numbers, that could not be ascertained. While thinking of Billy the Kid thus and recalling the early promise of the young Indian desperado and his ‘present bloody performances, the scout’s meditations were interrupted by a light footstep within his room. It was accompatiied by a swish of skirts. Turning in surprise, he saw that his room had been suddenly in- vaded by a woman. It was the woman he had beheld in the street. She was, as he observed now, not only slim, but lank, with a sharp, hatchety type of cotintenance, and keen dark eyes. She fixed her eyes upon him as she came gliding across the room. With the natural courtesy which characterized him, he sprang to his feet, removing, his heavy hat, which he had been wearing in the room. “Oh, is this Buffalo Bill?” the female asked, with a simpering and girlish giggle. The scout bowed in acknowledgment. “That is what I am often called,” he answered simply. “Do you know, I should have known it was you any- where—just anywhere?” she declared, with a nervous flutter. “Won’t you have a seat?’ he asked politely, evading this compliment. She fluttered into it, spreading her skirts, and remind- ing him of a bird settling into its nest.. “You are so kind!’ she twittered. - He had observed that she carried a small black travel- ing-bag, to which she clung closely, and which she now placed in her lap. “A lovely day, isn’t it?’ she remarked, giving him a comprehensive glance. “We're having beautiful weather now, miss.” “So kind of you to say that!” she simpered. “The weather is very delightful, ” he repeated. “So kind of you to say ‘miss,’ I mean. So many stran- gers address me as ‘madam.’ But you are observant, and you noticed that I am younger than T look. ‘A Woman is as young as she looks,’ you know.” Her gloved fingers were straying over the meth of the black bag, but she did not yet open it. “I know you will be inclined to help me,” she de- clared, glancing at him. “You have such a reputation 1? for kindness! “Then I hope I shall prove worthy of my reputation,” he answered gallantly, wondering vainly as to the cause of this visit and what was in the black bag. He had already made up his mind that there was some- thing very artificial about the woman, and he was not favorably impressed with her honesty. BILL’ STORIES. “T came to you because you are the leading man in this section,” she declared now, “and if I could get you as one of my first customers here then the others would come readily. Oh, I do so hope that you will feel that you can help me! ' ‘She snapped open the mouth of the black bag, and he beheld a miscellaneous assortment of articles, with some small picture-frames and photographs, and caught the glint of the shining handle of a revolver. . She covered up the revolver with a swift motion of her hand, and seemed confused; and then drew out some of the photographs and their small frames. She closed the bag with a snap. The scout stood near her, by the deep window- -ledge, regarding her attentively. “Tf you will become my first customer, Buffalo Bill, [ee : She stopped to smile upon him sweetly. “Of course that isn’t your real name—Buffalo Bill! Pardon me for addressing you by it; but | really con t know what your name is.’ “Cody,” he answered. “Of course—to be sure! I had heard it, and then forgot it. How stupid of me!” She snapped the bag open a and took. out a card, which she extended. “On it was the name: “Miss Grace Simpson, Denver.” “Very glad to know you, Miss Simpson.” He bowed again, and was inwardly smiling. “I am enlarging and tinting photographs,” she said. She held the bag open, and rose with one of the photo-. graphs in her left hand, stepping up to the window beside him. ~*T want to enlarge and tint some photographs for s) you. The work I do i is beautiful—unsurpassed. Really, it is very fine; and to induce you to become my first customer I will enlarge and tint two photos for you for nothing, if you will order a half-dozen later at the regular price, in case you are pleased with them. If you are not pleased s She held the photograph up so that the light fell on it from the window. In doing this she swung half in behind him, and the right hand, which held the black bag, grasped the shining handle of the revolver. He looked at the photograph which she held up, fend ing over it, for mere politeness’ sake. His face and eyes were turned from her, and he did not see the quick change in her features, The eyes snapped suddenly like coals of fire, her mouth compressed tightly, and her face became tigerish. Murder was in that face. 4 Though Buffalo Bill did not know it, to a beholder it would have been apparent, as her fingers closed on the revolver-handle, that she meant to shoot him suddenly in the back, or in the back of the head, before he sus»9. . pected, or turned. But there was a quick step out by the door, and the door flew open. — _ Wild Bull stood there, staring, The face of the woman, which was turned from him, became as white as chalk. The revolver dropped back into the pas bag, unseen by Wild Bill. © - Ce st eV ki an Tol 6 anc Say yo intc 66 ] you.” THE BUFFALO ee was about to withdraw, but Cody wheeled toward im. “Beg your pardon!” said Wild Bill; “I didn’t——” “Come right in!” invited the scout. The woman turned round now, smiling as sweetly as possible, though her face was suffused with blood, which had rushed back into it. Yet she was mistress of herself, “Mr. Hickok, allow me to introduce Miss Simpson, of Denver,” said the scout. “Miss Simpson, Mr. Hickok.» Wild Bill, always gallant, bowed elaborately. “I have been trying to induce Mr. Cody to become my first customer,” she said, laughing; ‘‘and now I intend to have you for my second.” But she did not; for neither of the scouts cared for the photographs. ‘eeocuomasruenimeennd CHAP IER: tb MISS SIMPSON DISAPPEARS. “In the name ofall things, Cody, who was that woman ?” Wild Bill asked the question as soon as the woman was gone from the room. “I don’t know,’ the scout answered; “there is her card. She said she was Miss Simpson, of Denver.” “Cody, she came here to murder you!” The scout dropped into the chair by the window, staring at his old friend. “What nonsense!” 3 ehis SO.) “What makes you think so?” “T saw it in her eyes.” ) Jecher eyes “Yes; as I came in. You had your back to her and was looking at that picture. She had her right hand in that black bag behind your back; and, Cody, if there was ever murder in a human face it was in hers.” Buffalo Bill felt stupefied. “You must be mistaken, Hickok!” “As sure as there is a God, I’m right! She meant to kill you.” | “Then it’s lucky you came in.” “It is. I think she had a revolver in that black bag, and she intended to shoot you in the back with it.” “And yet you said nothing!’ “No, I didn’t. I thought I must be mistaken, at first. And, then, she was a woman! But I ought to have seen if there was a revolver in that bag.” “There was.” “You saw it?” “Yes; when she opened the bag to get out the photo- graphs.” Wild Bill gave a low whistle. “I knew it, Cody; and she came here to murder you!” “It’s hard to believe. I never suspected such-a thing.” “But didn’t you notice her face, even after she turned % round? It was as red as a beet.” “T saw that, but thought it due to confusion.” “It was due to the fact that I stumbled in so suddenly and upset her plan—caught her red-handed, as you may say, and prevented her from using the revolver on He walked over to the deep window and glanced down into the street, but saw nothing of the woman. “You don’t think you imagined that?’ Buffalo Bill BILE STORIES. . 3 asked. “You're sure that you weren’t thinking of trou- ble, and a “Cody, I didn’t imagine it! Murder was in her face, : I tell you, written as plainly as if it had been printed there. No, I wasn’t mistaken.” “The motive? Why should she want to kill me? I never saw her before.” : Wild Bill laughed harshly. “Why should any one want to kill you, Cody? There are dozens of men in this town who would shoot you on sight, if they dared.” “But a woman!” “Some women are as big devils as some men. She may be a sister, or even the wife, of one of your deadliest enemies. How do we know?” “We don’t know, of course.” He, too, looked with searching gaze out of the win- dow, hoping to see the woman again. “The enemies I have here, Hickok, are chiefly my enemies because they stand in with those Indian devils under Billy the Kid. They know I’m here to run. the scoundrel to earth and break up the outlawry that’s dis- gracing the Southwest, and if I do that their source of revenue comes to an end. Does this woman seem to fit in that category?” “I see you think I’m oversuspicious!” “But it seems so impossible.” “All right, have it so; but I know what I saw, and what you didn’t see. And I know if I’d been ten seconds slower you'd have a bullet in you now.” Buffalo, Bill again rose to his feet. “I’m going out,’ he said. “We'll look for her to- gether. I think I can ask her some questions that will tell us if she is our enemy.” , “All right, Il go with you.” Together they went down-stairs; and, not finding the woman there, they went on out into the stréet, glancing round as they did so. They questioned a man near the door, asking if he had seen the woman. “We thought we'd like to take another look at her photographs,” said Wild Bill. “She was a woman who was trying to get photographs to enlarge and color.” “No woman came out by this door,” the man answered. “How long have you been standing here?” AIL of ten minutes. They went back into the hotel office, and inquired of the clerk. “No woman came down this way,” he said, speaking positively. . Buffalo Bill looked him full in the eye, trying to de- termine if the fellow was lying, for it seemed that the woman must have come past him. “She may have gone out through the barroom,’ Wild Bill suggested. They went together into the barroom, where several men were drinking and talking. “Did a woman—a photograph agent—come through here just now?” Buffalo Bill inquired, speaking generally to the crowd. “We thought we'd like to look again at her photograph samples.” “No one came in through here,’ was the surprising answer. : ‘No woman, within the last ten minutes?” “T haven’t seen any woman in here at all,” the bar- Leas penssitin aca liaenesr eahitbecnctianestocmy titan ens inh ephionoone Netto ees t BO LE aE rene | 4 ie i We Mh * I THE. BUFFALO keeper responded. “A woman would have gone out through the office, I judge.” Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill returned to the office. “Well, what do you think of it?’ Wild Bill asked. “She probably went out the back way.” They walked to the end of the hall, and on into the little placita, or court, such as are usually found in these big adobe houses. : A woman servant passed through the placita, and they asked her concerning the woman—if she had seen her. “No sefiors,” was the reply. “She could have gone out through this court?” Si, senor.” “Will you find out, from the servants, if any woman passed out this way within the past ten minutes?” He slipped a silver piece into her hand, and the Mexi- can maid-of-all-work disappeared. Within a few minutes she came back. “Sefior, there was a man went through here about five minutes ago.” “A man!” said Wild Bill, with a gasp. “Si, senor.” “What did he look like?” asked Buffalo Bill. “They said he was slender and dark. The kitchen girl noticed him particularly.” Wild Bill looked at his friend. “Will you show us the way through here to the out- side?” Buffalo Bill requested. The woman ran on before, her feet made light by re- membrance of the silver piece. “He went out through this door and this gate,” she said, pointing to them. “Thank you.” The scouts stepped through to the outside, and found - themselves in the street. It was a narrow street, dusty, and with adobe houses crowded close on either side. _ A few children, brown-skinned as Indians, were rolling and playing in the dust. “No use to ask them if a man went along here,” ob- served the scout, “for men are passing along all the time.” “That's so, too.” They looked up and down the street. “Could the man seen by the kitchen maid have been the woman who wanted to shoot you?’ Wild Bill asked. “It’s possible, yet it seerns unity. A “We'll make a search of the town.” “Not a bad idea; it isn’t a very big town. If the woman is here’ as an agent for those photographs, she will be canvassing the town and we're sure to find hers They began a search of the town, asking cautious ques- tions concerning a dark-eyed woman who was selling photographs and getting orders for their enlargement. Nobody, apparently, had even seen or heard of such a woman. “The thing gets decidedly mysterious! Wild. Bill declared. “It certainly does.” “TI know what I saw, and know what it means,” Wild Bill insisted, as they returned to the hotel. ‘That may - have been a woman; but, man or woman, he or she in- I never was more certain of any- | tended to murder you. thing in my life. You didn’t see the look on her face, remember, and 1 did.” BILL STORIES. : CHAPTER fii THE MESSAGE FROM LANSING, When they reached the hotel office the clerk threw out a telegram. “William F. Cody,” he announced. The scout took the yellow envelope and tore it open. This is what he read: “W. F. Copy, Glencove, Arizona. “Billy the Kid and his men robbed the bank here this morning, and got away with fifty thousand dollars. Can you come at once? We need you. “W.S. Jones, Sheriff,” The scout put the telegram into the hands of Wild Bill. The latter whistled again when he read it. “Cody, that proves it!” He drew his friend away, so that the clerk could not hear. “This proves what I believe,’ he continued. “That the woman tried to shoot fhe?” “Sure thing. And proves that she, or he, is an ally of Billy the Kid. Billy and his gang knew you were here in Glencove. They planned to crack that bank to- day. They were sure you would be the first man to hit their trail after the thing was done. So that woman was sent here to assassinate you. You’re about the only man in Arizona that they’re at all afraid of.” “You don’t leave yourself out, I hope?” “They know I’m just your follower—your satellite.” “Your theory is interesting.” “And true. They feared you, if you struck their trail; and at about the time the bank there was cracked they expected this woman here to end you, so that you couldn’t trouble them in getting away.” The scout took the telegram, folded it. restored it to its envelope, and placed it in his pocket. “And now what?” said Wild Bill. “We'll not be able to look for that woman any longer. We'll have to leave her to pick up photographic trade in peace; for we start for Lansing.” Lansing was the point from which the telegram had beén sent. “There’s only one thing I'd like to wait for.” “What's that?” queried Wild Bill. vcd like to wait until Texas Jack and Nick Wharton get here. “By George, they’re here now!’ The rattle of hoofs was heard in the dusty street, and old Nick Wharton and Texas. Jack rode up at a canter. “Waugh!” squalled the old trapper, when he beheld Buffalo Bill. “Buffler, er ’m a grasshopper-eatin’ Piute!” He bent down from the saddle to shake the scout by the hand, and to greet Wild Bill in the same hearty way Flow is Billy the Kid?” said Texas Jack. “Taking Sunday-school lessons again, I reckon P’ “We've had word from him,” him the telegram. “I was just saying I wishéd you and Wharton were here, as I need you.’ “Needin’ us, eh? >” said the trapper. “Billy the Kid has cracked another bank, down at | Lansing this time, and we start for there at once; if you’re in good condition, Wharton.” “Waugh ! - Did he kill anybody ?” said Buffalo Bill, giving 7 Ther Injun devil at his ted work ag’in! ‘ Nace et vs revs THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. 5 “The telegram doesn’t say.” “If he didn’t, it was ’cause he war crowded so hard he didn’t have time. Replyin’ to yer question, Buffler, I’m as healthy as a he-grizzly and sp’ilin’ fer a fight.’ The coming together of these four noted men in the natrow street in front of the adobe hotel was drawing men from the barroom and from other buildings; and they stood about respectfully, trying to catch some snatches of the talk, and eying the scouts. Most of them evinced merely healthy curiosity, but there were others whose brows looked dark and lower- ing; and, though the scouts had no proof of it, they felt rather certain that these men were at least sympathizers with Billy the Kid, if not his actual allies. Having settled that they would start at once for Lan- sing, to pick up the trail there and ascertain just what Billy the Kid had done, the scouts paid their score at the hotel, and going to the stable mounted their horses and rode out of the town, accompanied by Texas Jack and old Nick Wharton. When out of the town, Wild Bill delivered himself of his belief that an attempt had been made that morning on the life of Buffalo Bill, telling what he had seen. “The Mexican servant girl said a dark-eyed man went through the placita,” he added; “and, as we couldn’t dis- cover that the woman had left the hotel at all, we thought that might have been her in disguise.” “Waugh!” bellowed the trapper. “I dunno but we seen that man!” “We saw a dark-eyed, slender man, on horseback, on this trail, as we catne in,” said Texas Jack. “Just how did this chap look?” Buffalo Bill asked They described him, to the best of their ability. “He was riding as if the devil was after him,” Texas Jack added. “And was headed toward Lansing?” said Wild Bill. “Perhaps if we crowd along a bit faster,” suggested Buffalo Bill, “we’ll overtake him, and then we can tell if he is the woman who came into my room, and, as Wild Bill says, tried to shoot me. That seems to me a most singular thing; for usually when I’m in danger I have ‘a premonition of it, and I had none then. I didn’t sus- pect the woman at all.” Though they now rode rapidly, and kept their horses at top speed for some time, they did not come in sight of the horseman seen by Wharton and Texas Jack. That did not prove, however, that he was not ahead of them; for even a start of a féw miles, to a man on a good horse, will enable him to keep ahead and out of sight, if he rides rapidly. When Buffalo Bill and his companions arrived in Lan- sing they found the town in a state of wild excitement. The time was now mid-afternoon, and they had ridden twerity miles or more, a portion of the way through a rough country and over mountains. Ap attempt had been made by a small party of men to take the trail of Billy the Kid, but these men had fallen into an ambush two miles beyond Lansing, and had lost several of their number, being thus driven back. The sheriff seemed to be lacking in nerve; for, after sending that message to Buffalo Bill, he had waited, and done nothing beyond uttering a lot of loud talk. He had a dozen men, but they seemed as unwilling as the sheriff to set out without the guidance of Buffalo Bill, The scouts asked to be shown the bank, where it was said the safe had been blown open by nitroglycerin. “We'll take the trail at once,”. the scout announced, “but we'd like a look at the bank first. And we'd like a talk with the bank officers.” They inspected the bank safe. Nitroglycerin had been poured in the joints round the lock and exploded by a small hand battery. All the money the safe contained—about fifty thou- sand dollars in specie and bank-bills—was gone. : The bank president had been shot as he sat in his chair behind a railing, and the cashier, the only other officer or person in the bank at the time, had been tied up and tossed into a corner, and threatened with death if he made any noise. The cashier had been too frightened to give the alarm until Billy the Kid’s men were riding out of the town; and then he had howled for aid, bringing several people into the bank. This was the story they heard. “A bit peculiar this!’ said Wild Bill, in a low tone to the great scout. “Very peculiar!. Help me to question that cashier more closely.” CHAPIER lv GUESTIONING THE CASHIER. The cashier had come, in answer to their summions. He was, in fact, one of the first who appeared before them, in addition to the sheriff and his men, and the ex-- cited people who had met them in the street. The cashier walked over from the house where lay the body of the murdered bank president. His eyes were red with weeping, and he seemed ex- tremely nervous, which was quite natural under the cir- cumstances. He was a small man, with a stealthy, creep- -ing manner, suggestive of a cat; and his red eyes shifted, not meeting the gaze of the beholder squarely. All of which Buffalo’ Bill took into consideration be- fore beginning to cross-examine him. The excited people, and even the sheriff, were shut out of the building, apparently without preconcerted method; and old Nick Wharton was guarding the door, when Buffalo Bill, asking the cashier a simple question, began to draw from him in fuller details the story of the robbery and murder. “The people thought they were half-breed cowboys, or Mexicans,” said the cashier. “Then Billy the Kid’s men didn’t appear in war-paint and feathers, in the manner in which they sometimes go about such things?” ; “No, I thought they were Mexicans at first, before I got a good look at them. They rode up to the bank, with their big Mexican hats over their eyes. We have some Mexicans who are depositors of small amounts, and I thought they were some of them; and I’ve no doubt the people who saw them thought so.” “Did they shoot the president as soon as they en- tered ?” ENS * “Why -didn’t the report of the pistol draw some one in he Re Ma : “Well, there had been a good deal of shooting during the morning. Some drunken cowboys had been shooting 6 “THE, BUEBALO up the town, and the people got used to the revolvers and paid no attention when they heard that shot.” “They didn’t attempt to shoot you?” “They ordered me to hold up my hands, and I did it.” “Didn’t they order the president to hold up his?” “Yes; but instead of doing so he reached for a revolver he had under his desk, and they shot him.” Buffalo Bill was studying the cashier’s face closely. “You didn’t care to take such chances?” “When I saw the president shot that was enough for me; my hands went up.” “And then they tied you?” “They tied me and chucked me in the corner over there; and then they blew open the safe, took the money, and mounting their horses cut out. I heard the galloping in the street.” “You called for help right away ?” “As soon as I knew they were gone; I didn’t want to holler too soon and have one of them come back and pot me for it.” It- was a straight and well-told story; yet something in the shifting eyes of the man, and in the cadence of his voice, told Buffalo Bill that this was not the whole truth, He walked over to the broken safe again, with Wild Bill, stooping to examine it. “The fellow lies,” he said to Hickok. “Just what I was thinking, Cody. What's your opin- ion ?”’ “That he knew when they were coming, and perhaps got everything ready for them.” He ran his fingers along the torn steel of the safe. “T don’t believe the lock was blown loose,” he said. “This safe was opened with a key, and then the nitro- glycerin used to hide the fact.” He beckoned to a bystander, and went aside with him, accompanied by Wild Bill. “See here, my friend,” remarked the scout, “you heard the nitro explosion, I believe you said?” ues, tidid. “What did you see when you heard it?” “TI saw those robbers coming out of the bank here on the double quick.” “And they jumped on their ee at once and made off 2” “Yes; and then I heard the cashier hollering, and that brought me here on the run, with some other fellers.” Buffalo Bill dismissed the man, and asked the cashier for a word in private. “How much money was taken?” “A little over fifty thousand dollars. I know, for I nelped count it last night. We meant to ship most of it out of here by stage this afternoon.” “It was in bills and specie?” “Yes, bank money and gold; more bank-notes than gold.” “Then those rascals could carry it easy enough.” “Oh, no trouble about that! They carried it, all right !” He laughed in a queer way; a strange thing in itself, considering .that he had so recently escaped death, and that his friend, the bank president, had been shot down by his side. “How long had the money been in the bank?’ “The most of it only since yesterday afternoon. It Bill STORIES was deposited by some mine men, and we were to ship it for them to-day.” “Singular how those robbers knew it was here!” the scout remarked significantly. “Tt does seem a bit queer!” “Who knew that the money was here, aside from yourself, the president, and the men who left it here for shipment?” The cashier’s face paled slightly. “No one else.” “Then, of course, it was just by ae that Billy the Kid’s men happened to hit your little bank here when it had so much money in its safe.” “Yes, just a chance, of course. received word of it.” “It’s plain they couldn’t. Of course the depositors wouldn’t have told; and reliable men like yourself and the president could be trusted not to tell.” The cashier glanced at him with a still further paling of his face, as if wondering whether or not there was latent sarcasm in the remark. But the scout’s countenance was unreadable. “Well,” Buffalo Bill added, “we’ve got to get to work on this at once. I want to send a telegram to Fort Win- gate,” “The wires have been cut!’ “That's bad.’ “They stopped working shortly after the sheriff oat his message to you. Of course they were cut by Billy the Kid’s men.” “No one has been sent to repair them?” “T think not.” “And the sheriff didn’t pursue the robbers?” “He was waiting for you to come. Some fellows went They couldn’t have out on their own responsibility, and got the worst of*it. Half of them, or more, were killed in an ambush. I - think you'll have hard work to get any one to go with you, if you intend to pursue the robbers.” His tone was anxious. Apparently he hoped that even. Buffalo Bill would fear to begin a pursuit. “Come, Hickok!’ said the scout. He thanked the cashier politely for the “information” he had given; and the scouts went out together, being followed by Wharton and Texas Jack, with the whole crowd streaming after them. “Now what, Buffler?” shouted Nick Wharton. “We're goin’ to ride to Fort Wingate to get help,” the scout announced, in a tone that could be heard by all. “We'll need troopers for this job. I think Billy the Kid will strike for the Mogollon Mountains, and it will take fighting troopers to dislodge him when he gets there.” -He glanced at the cashier, and caught a Deed look on his face. “Ter ther fort it is, then!” cried Wharton. And he climbed into his saddle. CHAPTER Va THE TABLES TURNED ON THE SCOUT. But Buffalo Bill had no intention of leaving Lansing ° i that minute, and what he did now brought a surprising denouément.. “Keep your eye on the cashier, and if he pulls a gun down him in his tracks!’ he whispered to Wild Bill. tle the CO! kn in he as re bu in as THE BUFFALO Then he turned quietly to the sheriff, who had bus- tled up, accompanied by some other men. “Sheriff Jones,’’ said the scout, speaking so calmly that no one guessed what was coming, “I demand the arrest of the cashier of the. bank, on the charge of being an ac- complice of Billy the Kid.” The cashier turned to run. Wild Bill put out a hand to detain him, and the cashier knocked it away. Then, wheeling round, with revolver in his hand, he stood at bay. His face was white as a sheet, he was trembling, and he looked frightened and thoroughly desperate, as well as guilty. “That’s a lie!” he shouted. “Sheriff,” said the scout, in that same cold tone, rest that man! You know me, and——” - “Yes, I know you, Buffalo Bill, but this hyer is goin’ a bit too fur, don’t you think ?” The sheriff's face had turned red, instead of white; but the scared and desperate look which had also come into it told the great scout that the sheriff was as guilty as the cashier. A roar arose in: the crowd, which seethed forward about the speakers and actors in this little drama. Nick Wharton, ‘as astonished as the cashier himself, stared, from the back of his horse, and then drew on the rein and lifted his big rifle, to be ready for any “ruction’’ that broke forth. “Arrest the cashier!’ requested the scout, his tone a bit sterner and colder. : “Buffalo Bill, I refuse ter do it!” He fell back, drawing a pistol, as if to defend himself. Wild Bill, seeing that if the arrest was made, he and his companions would have to make it, jumped now at the cashier’s throat. At the same instant the revolver i in the cashier’s hand cracked, and Wild Bill fell forward on his face. Made desperate and angry by the belief that Wild Bill had been killed, Texas Jack pitched his revolver for- ward and took a snap shot at the man he believed was Wild Bill’s murderer. The cashier fell back, with a loud cry, tumbling into the arms of one of his friends. With a roar like a cyclone, the men struggling in the street closed in now round Buffalo Bill and his friends. Old Nick Wharton swung his rifle and knocked down a man who jumped at Buffalo Bill with a knife for the purpose of driving it in the scout’s back. Buffalo Bill seemed in that moment of angry turmoil the only sane and calm man there. He leaped to the fallen form of Wild Bill, and stood above it with drawn revolvers. “Back!” he shouted. “Stand back!” “Waugh!” yelled the trapper, swinging his rifle to clear a space about him and his horse. <‘Don’t crowd “ar- | ther people in ther band-wagon!” ~ Texas Jack was trying to reach the side of the scout, and there with him face the yelling mob into which the people in the street had been suddenly transformed. He was thrown down in the crush. “Stand back!” roared the scout, his revolvers threat- ening the men who crowded on him. _ In that instant he saw that there were before him more than one man besides the sheriff who was an ally, or friend, of Billy the Kid. BILL STORIES. 7 7 As he thus threatened and the crowd wavered, the fallen cashier, with a sudden motion, caught him by the leg and jerked him from his feet. The,thing was done so quickly and unexpectedly that the scout pitched forward on his face. Before he could rise, angry men were jumping upon him, as if he were a wounded deer and they a pack of victorious deerhounds. Wild Bill lay senseless, his face covered with blood; Texas Jack had fallen in the crushing crowd; and when Buffalo Bill went down, leaving only old Nick Whar- ton, the hyenalike mob yelled like wild beasts that scented blood. They hurled themselves in a mass on Buffalo Bill and on Texas Jack, holding them down by the very weight and force of numbers. The scout fought like a tiger, for he understood the terrible danger into which he had fallen. He hurled men - from him, and rose part way to his feet with a half-dozen hanging to his back and arms. They had seized his arms first, that he might be pre- vented from using his revolvers. But, indeed, he had no desire to use them, though the temptation was certainly great enough. He had discovered that the sheriff and the cashier were both accomplices of Billy the Kid; and from what was now taking place it began to seem that nearly every man in the street was, likewise; an ally of the desperadoes who had robbed the bank, - Yet some of those now surging about the scout and his pards were doing so merely because they were friends of the sheriff or the cashier ; while others were led solely by that strange mental twist which makes a crowd follow its leaders and “see red” whenever there is a prospect that blood will flow. Old Nick Wharton was pulled from his horse; and though he knocked down several of his assailants, sweep- ing them from their feet by his swinging rifle-barrel, others seized his rifle and laid hold of him; and soon he was struggling vainly against a dozen men. “Waugh!” Buffalo Bill heard him yell, sending out the cry as if it were an Indian war-whoop. Then the scout, trying to rise beneath that insup- portable weight, and reeling to and fro as he sought to shake himself free, was struck heavily on the head. The heavens turned black as that blow felled him, and he dropped in a limp heap beside Wild Bill. Wharton was being held and subdued, in spite of his mad roaring. Wild Bill and Buffalo Bill were senseless, aa the crowd believed that Wild Bill was dead. Texas Jack, though he still fought, fought vainly against a rope that had been tossed round his neck and was now being twisted about his arms and body. “Hang ’em!’ went up, in a wild roar. Some of the more desperate caught the fallen men by the arms and would have rushed them to the nearest tele- graph-pole, with ropes round their necks. But at this juncture caution stayed the sheriff. He desired the death of these men, but he dared not see them thus strung up by the necks without voicing a protest that would prove his innocence after the deed was done. “Boys, remember that Buffalo Bill is a scout o’ ther government !’’ Ne g THE BUFFALO The words had greater weight than he cet or wished. Fort Wingate was not many miles away, and at Fort Wingate were two or three companies of troopers, among whom Buffalo Bill had many warm friends, both officers and privates. As soon as news of the eine of Buffalo Bill and his pards reached Fort Wingate troopers would come, and then there would be a dreadful awakening from this mad orgy. Uncle Sam is not a lenient man to deal with; and most of the men engaged in this, if they went so fat as to hang the helpless scout, would be hanged in turn for their deed of blood. a They knew this as soon as they were given a moment for thought; and that moment for thought was furnished by the words of the sheriff. _ Some of them began to look scared, and their hands fell away from the arms of the fallen men. But the men who held Texas Jack and Nick Wharton still clung to them. The cashier, who had been shot through the shoulder by Texas Jack, but whose wound was not as severe as was at first supposed, staggered to his feet. The pallor of his face was ghastly. But there was in it, besides, the tigerish look of a frightened and thor- oughly desperate man. He swayed a minute, looking about. What he saw in the faces before him gave him courage. “Put them in the jail!’ he shouted to the sheriff. “One of them shot me, and I demand that they be jailed! We'll see if this country has any law; or whether men can come here, claiming to be officers of the government, and ride rough-shod over every one.” _ The sheriff caught the look in his eye. It said as plainly as words that these men ought to be held there to keep them from taking the trail of Billy the Kid, or sending word to Fort Wingate. _ The sheriff had wired to Buffalo Bill at Glencove only because he dared do nothing else; and he was as anxious. as the cashier that the scoundrels under Billy the Kid should be given as much of a start as possible. If Buffalo Bill and his pards were held for a few © hours in the stout adobe jail, Billy the Kid would be given such a start that he could effectually conceal his trail. Billy would then go into hiding in some distant recess of the mountains and remain there for a time, sallying out by and by to commit some other big robbery. “To ther jail with °em!’’ some one in the crowd howled, seconding the desperate demand of the cashier. A rush was made for the scout and his pards; the scout and Wild Bill being still insensible, and Texas Jack and old Nick Wharton helpless. The jail was not far away. Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill were lifted in the arms of a number of strong men. “Waugh! You cowards'll pay fer this!’ roared Whar- ton. “To the jail with ’em!’’ And forthwith they were thrust into the jail and locked behind the heavy adobe walls. A Bh woah ONE EMME TNE NAS SAM MEI Tan NS EAD BILL STORIES. CHAPTER VL AN UNEXPECTED JAIL DELIVERY. Under the active ministrations of Texas Jack and Nick Wharton, Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill soon came to them- selves in the jail. The bullet fired by the cashier had grazed the scalp of Wild Bill, felling him at the moment like an ox stricken in the shambles. Blood from the wound had run down over his face, giving him a ghastly appear- ance. Yet, except for its temporary effects, the wound was not serious. Buffalo Bill, on the other hand, had received a blow so severe that even after he recovered consciousness he was for a time almost helpless, and his face held a dazed look. It was nearly night before he seemed himself again. Out in the town there was wild excitement. The town was dividing into two camps, and the largest was on the side of law and order. _. With this larger section the sheriff pretended to ally himself, because he feared to do otherwise. This crowd was for opening the jail and giving Buf- falo Bill and his friends their liberty. But the sheriff, professing to be desirous for the law, insisted that as they had been jailed under the charge of attempting to kill the cashier they should be held for a legal trial. He was fighting for delay, knowing that every hour favored Billy the Kid. With the falling of darkness a crowd began to roar in front of the jail, a crowd composed of friends of the: cashier... He had fallen in the street, after making that de- mand for the arrest of Buffalo Bill and his pards; and it was now reported that he was at home, dying from the effect of his wound. vit we had weepins, Buffler, we might stand off that band 0’ kyotes, if they force ther doors and git in hyar; but ’thout anything ter fight with ther case seems ruther against us.’ Without the big gun which was his epee ele com- panion, old Nick Wharton felt helpless. _ The weapons of all had been taken away when hey were placed in the jail, though Buffalo Bill had con- cealed, beneath his clothing, the little revolver he always carried there for emergencies. “And the troopers no farther off than Fort Wingate!” said Texas Jack regretfully. “Friends so near, and yet (2? here we are, penned in like criminals! While thus they talked they heard a grating move- ment. One of fe slabs of stone which composed the floor, and which they had thought set in as solidly as adamant, was lifted, and a head came through. To the amazement of all, the face was that of Miss Simpson, of Denver Nick Wharton’s mouth fell open, so great was his. as- - tonishment. ef “Waal! When ther ground bu’sts open and enous a thing Ike that, I’m wonderin’ if my top-knot is plum in gear!” he was muttering, as the woman crawled through _and was fully revealed by the dull candle that sputtered in the deep window-ledge. The other occupants of that close prison were staring quite as hard as Wharton. Buffalo Bill recovered first’ and stepped forward. VV he » _ would be very unpleasant—for you. ered that they really mean it, I thought I’d put in an oar.” She held out her hand, with a low, giggling laugh. “You dear man!” she purred, as she clasped the scout’s hand. “To think of finding you and your friends in such a place as this! It’s positively shocking.” “Waugh! How did yer git in hyar?”’ “Through the hole in the floor, of course!” Wharton peered into the hole. He suppressed a yell as he did so; then, leaped into it, and coming up a Hon on later held in his hands his beloved rifle. “Waugh! This hyar gits me! It’s like findin’ er gold- mine !”” He twisted the long rifle oa in his fingers as if he could not believe that he actually had it again. “There are other weapons down there,” said Miss Simpson sweetly; “if you'll look again, Mr. Wharton, you'll find the revolvers and knives that you and your friends were relieved of this afternoon.” She seemed to enjoy the confusion into which she plunged them. s “But it was very easy,” she explained. was a way in here, and I simply came in.” “For the purpose of releasing us?” said Buffalo Bill. “My dear, you are a good guesser! Yes, I came in here to release you, and I brought you your weapons. You want to go in search of Billy the Kid, and there are certain men in this town resolved that you shall not go. They’re even planning to hang you to-night. That And as I discoy- “T knew there Texas Jack managed to thank her. “But, tell me,” said Wild Bill, whose recollections were very much confused just then, “why you did this? You are not ‘i He was about to declare that she was not Buffalo Bill’s friend, inasmuch as he was sure he had seen her attempting to shoot the scout in that room at Glencove. Buffalo Bill covered Wild Bill’s confusion by break- ing in with a statement: “T am still puzzled about this. But that doesn’t mat- ter. We thank you for your friendship and help.” “You'll go?” she asked. Wharton had climbed into the hole again, finding there a tunnel under the floor, and now he brought up out of the tunnel the weapons that had been taken from the party. Everything was there. “T determined to assist you,” she declared, as she ob- served the weapons. “I can even tell you where your horses are—out by the big cottonwood, near the irri- gating canal that comes down to the town from the moun- tains. They’re there, saddiéd and bridled. I want you to start in pursuit of Billy the Kid. Perhaps I may even go with you, if you don’t object?’ “We'll go, all right, Cody?” said Texas Jack. “Go? I guess we'll go, and be glad to!” added Wild Bill, “Waugh! I don’t stay in this hole a minute longer’n I have to,” said Wharton. JHE BURPPALO BIEL STORIES. Buffalo Bill was thinking. oes, we ll'go,* he: said ; “and we'll not ask you to explain anything you do not wish. We have our weap- ens here, and you have told us where our horses are. We must thank you for this a thousand times. We are held here wrongfully, without being given an opportunity to furnish bonds for our release, and we may be held here a week, awaiting trial.” “My. dear man, what a good guesser you are!” purred the woman. “You'll be held here until Billy the Kid has a chance to get out of the country, if you are not hanged to-night; and you’ll be hanged, if certain men can have their way.” “One o’ ther cusses that’s hankerin’ fer our blood is that sheriff!’ Wharton exploded incautiously. “And the other is that sneaking cashier that sent a bullet at my head,” Wild Bill added angrily. “Come!” The woman turned about and beckoned. For a moment only the scout hesitated. It was his business to keep the law, not to break it. But he did not consider, when he had time for thought, that in leaving that adobe jail he was breaking the law. He was held there wrongfully, for the sole purpose of giving the bank-robbing desperadoes a chance to get away. The sheriff was making no attempt to pursue them, and would not. “Yes; I'll go,” he said, as if Seating to himself. The woman dropped lightly down into the hole; and as her thin, hatchety face vanished Texas Jack followed her. After him went Nick Wharton, with Wild Bill and Buffalo Bill in the rear. The tunnel into which they had descended was black and narrow, and they had to stoop. “Please drop the slab softly into position,’ came back from the darkness, in the voice of the woman. 39 Buffalo Bill slipped it gently into position, shutting out the light of the sputtering candle and making the darkness so dense that nothing could be seen, not even the form of the man directly in front of him. “Straight ahead!’ said the woman, in a low tone. They crept after her. Soon they heard her pulling at the rusty lock of a door. Nick Wharton asked if he could assist her; but the rusty bolt turned, and they saw before them the star- — light, and the outlines of some buildings. They seemed to have emerged at the rear of the iat under cover of the shadows which fell rather heavily there. Round in front of the jail they could hear the angry bellowing of the mob. “Some time,” said the woman, affecting that low sweetness of tone, so different from her voice as the scout remembered it in Glencove, “Il may tell you how EE ee SEO SOLE GS SURE oh EI SISO TAG EAB A Sse Sa URI STU ets ks ANU SNS aot WSR NT Qs ashe na AM ILI CURA AR SR OVO - well on his horse, 10 ; THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. { knew this tunnel and door were here. Just now you’re too glad to get out, I hope, to be inquisitive.” She pointed into the night, in the direction oe the mountains. “Right out there is the big cottonwood-tree by the irri- gating canal, and your-horses are there waiting for ou She stopped, as if hesitating. “I said I might go with you; but—I think I shall change my mind about that. Good-by, and luck be with you! Bring back Billy the Kid, dead or alive.” CHAPPER: Vili THE DISCOVERY OF THE ESCAPE. “Hickok,” said Nick Wharton, speaking in a low tone to Wild Bill, as he felt of his saddle to see that it set “this hyar is ther quarest adventoor that I ever recomembers bein’ mixed up in. “Waugh, it air! And by ther same token, you war shore: mistook when you thought that creeter tried ter shoot Buffler. She didn’t never have that idee.” “It looks as if I was,’ Wild Bill admitted. They had not been seen as they hastened from the rear of the low mud-brick jail out to the shelter of the giant cottonwood. - Beside them rippled the water of the irrigating canal, coming cool and sweet from the mountains; and. be- yond, though not visible, were the mountains themselves, though not the wild Mogollons into which they believed Billy the Kid would plunge for safety. They were about to mount their horses, which they had found saddled and bridled just as the woman had told them would be the case, and still not a sound came to show that their escape had been discovered. “Cody has never more than half believed that the es tried to shoot him in his room there in Glen- cove,” said Wild Bill, “though I told him I was dead slire of-it. “Ve ain’t so dead shore of it now!” cackled the old ~ trapper. “I don’t know what to believe. I’m all mixed up. My head is whirling round, but whether it’s because I’m puz- zled, or from the effects of that scalp-wound, I don’t know.” A handkerchief bandage, over the wound, ened un- der the edge of his hat. “What I’m wondering, Cody,” said Texas Jack, “is if the man on horseback, that we thought might be this woman disguised, could have been her.” “All imagination,” declared Wharton, as he tightened his saddle-cinches. “They warn’t ther same; couldn’t have been, ye see!’ “Singular that she should be here, though!” the scout observed. “Not half so sing’lar, Buffler, as that she should have popped up through that hole in ther jail floor. That’s puzzlin’ me stiddy. How’d she know about that hole: e “Give it up,’ Wild Bill answered. - “An’ how’d she git our hosses, an’ our weepins? Yes, and how’d she git holt of ther key by which she turned ther lock?” “As: Hickok says, I give it up!” recponted the scout. “Ther mysteriousness of this hyar myst’ry tenes me complete!” “In spite of the things we can’t understand, let us be truly thankful,’ as the preacher said in his famous ser- mon,” the scout answered. “Oh, I’m thankful, Buffer; so plum thankful. that my heart is like a honey-pot; but, jes’ ther same, my queeri- osity is powerful excited.” They climbed into their saddles and began to ride slowly out from beneath the cottonwood by ae bank of the irrigating canal. As they did so, a greater roar than ever arose at the jail from which they had escaped. “It’s time ter slide lively, Buffler,” terpreting this as a warning. Then they rode away, striking into a trail that led to- ward the mountains. Behind them, at the jail, the roar grew louder, show- ing an unwonted state of excitement. It was known that the prisoners had escaped. said Wharton, in- The sheriff was the one to make the announcement, and his face was fairly livid, while his eyes stared and _ glared under the light of the street lamp in front of the jail. He was trying to dissemble his real feelings, and was finding it hard work. He and six other men, a short time before—in fact, immediately after Buffalo Bill and his friends had made their escape—had gone to the secret door which entered the secret tunnel. They were armed to the teeth, and their purpose was to kill Buffalo Bill and his companions, and later make their death appear a thing of mystery. After entering the tunnel and locking the door be- hind them, they had put on masks in the darkness, and then crept stealthily through the tunnel until they were beneath the movable slab in the prison floor. The secret of the underground entrance into the jail was supposed to be known only to the sheriff and the constituted authorities of the town. The adobe prison, was an old structure, dating back to the days of the Spanish occupation of the country. The assassination of certain prisoners was necessary at times, thought the old Spaniards; and that it might be done without detection, the secret passage into the jail was constructed, and its existence held as a state secret. The secret had come down from them to this time, still closely maintained. : it Ic I of trying to commit murder. THE: BUFFALO But, naturally, when it became the secret of a sheriff who was.allied with the criminal forces of the country, its use can be guessed. Standing beneath the slab, the sheriff felt of the lock, and fitted a key into it. He started nervously as he discovered that the bolt was loose; for, in her haste, the woman had not locked this door. “I hope nothin’s wrong here, whisper, He lifted the door cautiously, holding a revolver ready; and the faces of his friends were pushed up into the opening. All were prepared to shoot the prisoners on sight, if the thing was necessary. Their surprise was confounding. The adobe prison was empty! ” said the sheriff, in a They could hardly believe the evidence of their senses, and the sheriff climbed into the prison to make sure that there could not possibly be a mistake. He was shaking like a leaf as he tumbled back into the tunnel. “Treachery here!” he hissed. “We'll kill the man that done it!” was the answer. “Somebody gave the thing away,” said another. “Who can we trust?” They almost expected to find foes at the outer en- trance of the secret tunnel. When outside, the sheriff announced that he would enter the jail by the side door, pretend to discover the escape of the prisoners, and then come out and make _ the announcement before the front door ; while his com- panions were to separate and join the crowd out there. This the sheriff did quickly; and it was his announce- ment that brought the roar which our friends heard be- neath the cottonwood. “They must be in the town,” ae the sheriff. “Search for ’em, everybody !” He halted, hesitating. He knew he was excited and trembling; and he wondered if he were not in deadly peril; for he did not know who of the men before him might have knowledge of that secret entrance. Perhaps he was looking into the eyes of men who had released Buffalo Bill! “It’s my duty as sheriff,” he explained, “to hold closely. all prisoners put in that jail, until they’ve been given a trial by a court. I don’t say, and won’t say, that Buf- falo Bill and’ his pards would have been found guilty I’m not the judge of the court. But they were in there as prisoners; and, there- fore, it’s my duty to capture them and return them to the jail. And I call on every man here, no matter what his opinion of their guilt or innocence may be, to aid in their capture.” “scatter and run ’em down!” was yelled. pict tas tat ALAS. Chek tN Oth a ucnitat Raion BILL STORIES | | IT _ “They can’t make a fight, fer they ain’t got no wee- ‘pins; and they can’t git fur ’thout horses!” shouted another. “Hang ’em!” howled a third. But catching comes before hanging! Mystified and trembling, the sheriff hastened to the room where the weapons taken from the scout and his friends had been stored. The weapons were gone! He tran to ‘the stable where their horses had been stalled. ’ The stalls were empty, and the saddles and bridles had disappeared with the horses. He reeled dizzily, as he made this astounding dis- covery, and put his hand against the stable wall for support. “T’m surrounded by enemies!’ was his thought. “Some of our men have peached—have aided these men to escape! They’re already out of the town, as the ab- sence of the horses shows. What devil could have be-- trayed us?’ Visions of a hangman’s noose terrified him. He now ran wildly to the house where the bank cashier lay, and demanded to be admitted to the cash- iler’s room. Out in the streets he heard the yells of the search- ers, many of whom were drunk and ready for any outrage. The cashier had heard the mad tumult, and was sit- ting up in bed, looking scared. “In the name of Heaven, what’s broke loose now?” he asked. The sheriff sank into a chair by the side of the bed, shaking like a bag of jelly. His face was white with fear: “The devil has broke loose!” he whispered hoarsely. “And his name is Buffalo Bill!” - The cashier stared, with face paling. “He’s escaped ?” coves, “How ?” “Somebody’s let him out by the secret tunnel. all gone; and their horses and guns. in the band!” The cashier threw back the bedclothes as if to leap out; but uttered a cry of pain as he did so, and fell back on the pillow, gasping. “We've been betrayed—sold out to Buffalo Bill and the government! We'll hang for this!” The cashier gathered his energies together. “Take a brace!’ he urged. “You're too scary!” They’re There’s a traitor “Too scary? Don’t you feel the noose round your neck? JI do round mine. Man, we're ruined! Our part in this thing is known, or will be known, and then-——” _ You're a fool! L2 He finished with a significant break. “Take a brace! I wish I could get out of this bed, but I can’t. But you don’t know that there has been treachery.” “What else? treachery ?” How could it have happened without “They're clever men. They may have sounded the floor and found the hidden door, and got out without help. If so, they might have got their horses and guns.” “T don’t believe it! For how many years has that tunnel been kept a secret? Longer than you or I can remember. It was never found, or suspected.” “The thing to do is to capture them again. they’re not out of the town?” Perhaps “Oh, they’re out, all right; and we’re ruined!” “Well, get out and help hunt for them,” cashier irritably. “If I could get out of this bed!” “You'd do wonders—when they’re already out of the town!” “Even at the worst,’ urged the cashier, “we can deny everything. If one of our men has betrayed us, it’s some low-down sneak; and our word will go as far as his, We'll denounce him as a liar, We're all right. Brace up. Get out and hunt for those fellows.” “TI want to get out of the country.” “And confess that you’re guilty by running away. 1 “Yes, for ever having gone into this thing! If it gets out that we’re betrayed, others of the band will fall over each other in a hurry to save their own necks by telling everything.” ““Get out and help hunt for those men,” snarled the cashier, “Don’t be a driveling idiot. I’m in as much danger as you are. If you can overtake them, and they give you the least chance by putting up a fight, wipe ‘em out, and that will save us, Get a move on you.” The sheriff pulled his courage together again and left the room, joining-the searchers in the streets. No sooner was he gone than the wounded bank cashier crawled out of bed and began to put on his clothing, staggering with weakness as he did so. He tottered across the room, and from a closet took 2a roll of bank-bills. “The jig is up, I guess, just as he says; but I’ll make myself safe, and the others can look out for themselves. Perhaps they’ll capture Buffalo Bill, and more likely they won't. I’ll get out of here while I can.” — He reeled toward the door, But as he did so he fell, fainting, in the middle of the room, and the roll of bills, which he was trying to crowd into a pocket, dropped from his limp fingers and lay spread out on the floor, a telltale witness of his attempt to escape with the money, should any one come into the _toom before he recgvered consciousness, THE BURFALO snarled the. BILL STORIES, CHAPTER Vill THE BEWILDERING MISS SIMPSON. In the meantime, Buffalo Bill and his mountain pards were flying away from the town on their swift HOSS, over the lonely trail. Turning away from the trail at length, they headed straight away for the Mogollon Mountains, into which they were sure Billy the Kid would enter. Buffalo Bill had stated in the town his intention of riding to Fort Wingate, merely as a blind. . Desirable as it was to get word to the commander at Fort Wingate, Buffalo Bill had meant to take the neces- sary time to go there. ~ He now believed that news of the bank robbery and of the subsequent exciting events could not fail to reach the fort, and he knew that would bring the troopers. The friends speculated much concerning the sensation which the escape would provoke. “T have always said that. running away from any charge seemed a-confession of guilt,’ said Buffalo Bill. “But there are exceptions to all rules, and we'll call this one of the exceptions.” “Better to run away and be misjudged than to have the truth known after our necks have been stretched,” said Texas ia “That jail-breaking doesn’t trouble: my conscience any.” “Waugh! Buffler, ther thing that’ s puzzlin’ me is who is our female friend?’ cried Wharton. “She ain’t ’spe- cially handsome ter look on, but her actions is more beautiful than words. Good deeds is better than good looks, Buffier.” Shortly before morning they halted, to rest themselves and their horses and get something to eat. A small store of provisions, left undisturbed by the sheriff, was in the saddle-pouches. No fire was kindled, and they ate their food cold, and then lay down on the dry grass for a few “winks” of sleep. The sun had risen when they started on again. Before them lay the outlying spurs and hills of the Mogollon range. : | Suddenly, as they odes over a ridge and down into a depression, they saw before them a female figure, lead- _ ing a horse. Hearing the trample of their horses’ hoofs, the woman turned toward them. » She had been crying until her face and nose were very red, and tears were on her cheeks, The woman was “Miss Simpson, of Denver!” In his astonishment, Buffalo Bill drew so hard on the rein that he threw his horse back on its haunches. The woman stared at him with red eyes, and then came crippling toward the group. eh THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. — 13 “Ther female!’ Wharton was gasping. “Tt doesn’t seem possible!” cried Texas Jack. “Cody, what does it mean?” Wild Bill asked. The scout, in his bewilderment, was waiting for the woman to answer the question. “Heaven be praised!” she cried, in her shrill voice, as she pulled at the bridle-rein. Her horse showed evidences of hard driving, but other- - wise was in good trim, and he Tee the other horses with equine curiosity. “Of all the men in the world, Mr. Cody, you and your friends are the ones I wanted to see! Mr. Cody, I have been robbed—robbed !” “Robbed ?” “Yes, Mr. Cody, robbed of all them beautiful photo- graphs that I showed you, And I’ve been abused just dreadfully !” She stood before the group of staring horsemen, sob- bing, and taking out a soiled linen handkerchief from the black bag, she proceeded to wipe her dripping eyes. “Mr. Cody, it was simply awful—simply beyond the ability of my poor words to describe how I was treated, after I’d been robbed of all them’ be-yutiful photo- graphs!” “Were you robbed near here, or in Glencove?” “Near here—right over there!” She pointed with a shaking finger. “Waugh! When we come onter them robbers, we'll settle with ’em fer ye!” exclaimed Wharton, swinging his long rifle and looking round as if he half expected to see the robbers start up from behind some rock or bush. “But how in ther name o’ ther hull cree-ation did yer git out hyar, anyhow, when we seen ye in Lan- sing so recently?” eMer In Lansing?” “Yes, in Lansing, last evenin’,’ continued Wharton. 7 ou on when you come ter ther jail through ther— A motion from the scout caught Wharton’s eye and stilled his words. a 39 “T mean-——whar war Lansing ?” “Why, in Glencove, to be sure! I think you want to be humorous with me, do you not?” ye last night, if you warn’t in What purpose had this woman in wanting to play this singular double rdle? Was she insane, or just enough so to make her love deceptive double-dealing and false- ~) hood ¢ ' The scout was asking himself those questions. suddenly, believing it the better way, and certainly the more open, he took up the matter which Wharton had dropped when motioned to. “Miss Simpson,” he said, “we’re sorry to see you here in trouble, and we'll do what we can to help you.” “Qh, you dear man! I knew you would.” “We can’t do less, since you have done so much for 3) us. “Well, I was wantin’ to help you dreadful bad,” she declared. “Yes, when you came to us in the prison at Lansing.” “Did 1 do that? Well, I'd forgot that, if 1 did! 4 was meaning when I offered to you them be-yutiful photographs. It would have been such a help to you to-have such lovely an’ artistic things to carry about with you. That’s what I meant.” “You were in Lansing last evening?” “Well, if I was, Mr. Cody, I forget it. You see, I forget so many things that it ain’t convenient for me to remember! Now, I owe ten dollars to the hotel-keeper in Sagamore, down on the railroad, and I’m trying to forget it because I can’t spare the ten dollars. I’ll never be able to remember it and pay it now, since all them photographs have been taken from me.” “Who was it robbed you? robbers here,” “Here? Why, the country’s thick with ’em! was Billy the Kid’s men.” “Where was this?” he asked quickly. that trail, please.” . Wild Bill touched the scout on the arm. Wharton began talking to her in his loud way, thus covering up what Wild Bill now said: “Cody, this may be a trick! Better go slow, I think. Maybe there’s an ambush over there, and she wants to lead you into it. I’m feeling sure again that she tried to shoot you in the hotel at Glencove.” “You said not long ago that you might have been mistaken ?” One would hardly expect They “Lead us to “Well, I was trying to make myself think so, after what happened at Lansing; but I feel sure now she did try to kill you in Glencove” “Why should she have let us out of that jail fast night ?” “I don’t know. Perhaps to trap us here.” “That would be singular!” “Yes, but the whole thing is singular.” Buffalo Bill glanced keenly at the woman, who was _ talking in an animated and exciting way with Wharton and Texas Jack. “She rode hard to get here ahead of us!’ “Well, we stopped awhile, you know. Her horse is as fresh as any of ours.” | Thats so, tod. “Tt seems foolish, to think she would release us from the Lansing jail, and then ride out here for the purpose of leading us into the clutches of Billy the Kid; but, Cody, I can’t make it out any other way. ‘There’s an ambush over there, and she’s trying to draw us into it, as sure as my name’s Hickok!” ER ECPI TOT 14 , _ THE BUFFALO The woman had turned again sweetly to Buffalo Bill. “Mr. Cody, I’d like to show you just where I was when I was robbed in that outrageous way,” she said. “You're such a brave and capable man that I really would hope you might get them photographs back for me,’ “We have to be a little cautious, Miss Simpson; but well ride that way soon. The thing that puzzles me just now is how you reece to be out hete in the — fitst placer. “Oh, you inquisitive thing!” she giggled. “I’ve al- ways heard that curiosity belonged alone to women, but now I know it isn’t so. What was I doing out here, Mr. Cody?” “That's what I asked.” Was she hesitating for time to frame an answer? “Why, my dear Mr. Cody, I was on my way to Mo- gollon Crossing! I hardly got a bit of enlarging and tinting to do in that horrid town of Glencove. It was your fault, too; for if you had led off by giving me an order, as I wanted you to, I could have got a lot of work there. But you wouldn’t, and I failed to do much. “And so I set out for Mogollon Crossing, to see if I couldn't do better there; and as I was told this was the most direct way, I came it.” “But this isn’t the way to Mogollon Crossing!’ he purged, | She looked blank, though that might have been clever acting. “Stasi ee? “Certainly not.” “Well, that’s provoking! I was told in Glencove to take the trail that led south, and when the trail forked, to follow the left branch.” : “Oh, I see! Well, when the trail forked you should: have taken the right branch of the fork.” “How dreadfully provoking!’ “And, besides, there is no trail right here.” “But there is one right over there!” she asserted. “Right over there where I was robbed. It’s a small trail, but plain, and T’ll show it to you. And, dear Mr. Cody, aren’t we wasting a dreadful amount of time? Those robbers will be so far that I’ll never get them photographs back if we don’t hurry.” “It must be a game trail, then; for the real trail is in the other direction,” he insisted. “I rode over this way just because I was scared. Just before you saw me, my horse stumbled and pitched me out of the saddle; and that’s why I was walking when you saw me. I was trying to find a rock, or some- thing, by which I could mount cao It’s dreadful to be a woman, Mr. Cody, when you're riding horseback. A woman is such a ee thing, any ey And them photographs !” BILL STORIES. She bubbled again with tears, real or assumed, and plied her lace handkerchief. “Cody,” said Wharton, a sudden start of surprise in his tones, “durh if thar ain’t somebody—Injuns, er some- thin’—tryin’ ter ring us in!” CHAPTER: DS SURROUNDED BY APACHES. Scarcely were the words out of the trapper’s mouth when Indian head-feathers broke into sight from behind the rocks and scrubby sage-brush on the adjacent hill- side; and at the same time, from the other direction, wild Indian yells lifted. For a moment it seemed that the scout and his friends had been trapped. Wild Bill’s face flashed a dull, angry red; for he be- lieved that “Miss Simpson” had -held them in this place by her talking, that they might be trapped; and that the natural Indian inability to keep from howling when the foe is sighted,etogether with the keen eyes of old Nick Wharton in discovering them, were the only things that had kept them from being completely cordoned. He drew hard on the rein, wheeling his horse about. The woman stood, hesitating, staring at the oncoming Indians, who were now plainly to be seen along the base of the nearest hill, to get behind their foes and thus — encompass them. “You're going with us?” the scout cried. “My dear Mr. Cody, are those really Indians?” - “Yes, and Apaches!’ “Apaches! she shrieked. “The cruelest and worst Indians in the land.” She screamed as if she had trod on a rattlesnake. “Whatever will. become of me?” “Mount and ride with us, if you don’t want to fall into their hands. We've got to ride, and ride hard, this instant !’’ She stood screaming, wringing her hands. Buffalo Bill flung himself out of his saddle, and caught her by the arm. pivere, [ll help you)?’ fe cried, the saddle.” “Indians! Apaches!” she velled. as if stricken with hysteria. “Here, I'll help you!” - She flung her arms round his neck, screaming. Precious time was being lost. “Let her go, Cody!” Wild Bill yelled. “She’s tricking you. She'll hold you and all of us here until the red devils corral us,” Rifles cracked from the sage-brush, behind which In- dians were now burrowing, and bullets came “dipping” through the air. “Tl lift you into Fe a iM ) BR BY FS | i : ay Ait V4 i } een senna aege een The woman had wound hee arms round Buffalo Bill’ Ss neck in such a manner that he could not readily dis- lodge them without harsh means, nor could he lift her to her saddle. He was holding his own horse, ‘and had caught the. bridle-rein of her animal; and her horse was now plun- ging, having been frightened by the wild yells, and by the whining of the bullets past its head. “Let her go, Cody!” Wild Bill shouted again. “She’s trapping you! My Heaven, we've got to get out of this !” A bullet cut through his hat, and bie scraped the arms of Texas Jack. Old Nick Wharton threw up his heavy rifle and sent its contents at the nearest Indians. Buffalo Bill tore the woman’s arms from round his neck, and lifting her, , threw her bodily into her saddle, where she swayed as “if about to fall. Texas Jack, always gallant, caught her bridle-rein and began to lead her horse along, giving the scout _ a chance to mount his own animal. -“Take that!’ shouted Wild Bill, beginning to work his deadly revolver. ‘Cody, we’ve got to ride for our lives now; we've wasted time!” “Waugh! We've got ter run ther Injun gantlet!” ‘said Wharton, as he rammed home a bullet in his rifle. The Indians had almost completed their enclosing circle, The woman swayed weakly and seemed about to fall, but clung to the mane of her horse, while the animal began to plunge and jump. Buffalo Bill saw there could be no longer delay, or the result would be fatal. He drove the spurs into his horse and began to ride swiftly toward the point where the Apache forces were trying to effect a junction. He saw his friends and the woman riding at his side. But the woman was still swaying, and still screaming: and he soon slowed his speed to keep near her. “Come on!” yo Wild Bill. of this while I can.’ He dashed on wildly, and the others, with me exception of Buffalo Bill, rode at his heels. They saw that they would have to fight their way out. As Buffalo Bill thus tried to encourage the woman, an Apache arrow struck her horse in the hip, madden- ing the beast. It squealed with pain, and gave such a jump that the woman came near rolling out of the saddle; and then, before Buffalo Bill could get hold of her bridle-rein, her horse was racing straight toward the Indians at the point where they were swarming’ thickest. He turned the head of his horse in that direction to THE BUBFALO “I’m going to get out - race after her, and heard Wild Bill bellowing to him ss Oem et eras Oc irohntcsipee Bg Ca NSE ea PR RAN cpa po LENS A ae ogc OR LRP Ea BILL, STORIES. . 15 that the thing was a trick, and for him to come on while escape was possible. In spite of that he would have illowed for the thought of the woman falling into the hands of those human devils was too much for him, and he could not be sure that she was not all she seemed; but the mad- dened animal that bore her ran with such speed that © it was quite out of the question for him to overtake it. Every leap of his horse was taking him into greater danger, and if his horse were now shot down, his fate might be sealed. Better, he thought, to escape while escape coud per- haps be made, than to fall a prisoner into the hands of those red fiends, and thus be prevented from all hope of rescuing her later. He saw her horse dash madly into and through the red line of feathered braves on the hillside; and then he turned his horse round and rode like mad after his fleeing friends. They were halting and making a stand, for his bene- fit, to give him a chance to overtake them; and their rifles and revolvers were spitting a quick and spiteful fire. Old Nick Wharton was yelling like an Apache. The Indians were squirming closer in, that their rifles and arrow-shots might be more effective, for they are notoriously poor marksmen at long range. Buffalo Bill drew both revolvers, and with one in each hand, and his bridle-rein in his teeth, while he guided his horse chiefly by pressure of his knees, he now ee forward. His friends moved on at the same instant, seeing him coming, and their yells and shots rose louder than ever. Bullets and arrows whistled by the scout’s head and all round him, the arrows fluttering like swift birds, and the bullets whizzing in the air and jumping in the grass. His revolvers were spouting a stream of fire and lead. Indians went down before him, falling sprawled out, but even then yelling, thotigh in their death throes. Maddened by the thought that the scouts might es- cape, the Apaches exposed themselves recklessly, stand- ing up now to shoot at the fleeing white men. Thus exposing themselves, they fell before the deadly fire of the scouts. But that did not now daunt the ethers who leaped forward on foot, while others rode forward on ponies, all yelling like veritable fiends. At the thinnest point, where the Apaches had not been able to gather a force, the scouts made their dash, riding down the few Apaches collected there, pistoling all who stood up before them. They had left a trail of dead Indians behind them. And now the Apaches swung in, in mad pursuit, still yelling like fiends. There seemed to be half a hundred. Those on foot were running to get their ponies. ieee THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. The scout’s horse had been hit several times, though not seriously, and the other horses of his party had not fared better. Three bullets had gone through his clothing, and an arrow through the crown of his hat. That arrow was still there, the point sticking out in front and the feath- ered shaft behind, so that it seemed that he wore a feathered head-dress. The escape had been made by the ratrow oe eee and only by taking extreme risks. That they had escaped was not really yet certain, for the Indians were pursuing hotly, and, if they succeeded in bringing down any of the fleeing horses, the scouts would still be in a bad situation. And what of Miss Simpson? The last the scout had seen of her, her maddened horse was bearing her through the midst of the yelling Dee, CHAPTER xX. MISS SIMPSON REAPPEARS. “Buffller, I’m that puzzled by it that I don’t know whether I’m standin’ on my head er on my heels!” The statement was made solemnly by Nick Wharton. He was bathing with cold water a wound on _ his horse’s shoulder, to take out the inflammation. The spent horses, stiffened by their wounds and their mad race, were, with their riders, in a little grassy cove at the base of the Mogollon range. The day was well spent. Their foes had been dis- tanced, and not an Apache was believed to be near. Wild Bill was cutting some slices of jerked beef, and devouring them as fast as he cut them.’ “I’m not a bit puzzled!” he said. “Waugh! Hickok, I am! I’ve been nursin’ about sixty different opinions every hour sense we broke through that Apache corral 0’ death, and now I ain’t got a single durned opinion left. They c’uldn’t all been right; and, seein’ that, I’ve throwed ’em all away. I ain’t got any on now whatsomever on ther subject of that — woman.’ “Well, I have; she was a fraud and trickster of the first water! She tried her eternal best to hold Cody until the Apaches could get at him, and she tried to keep us all standing there before that until the red devils could surround us.” “But it warn’t a pretense that her hoss war wounded and run away with her.” “No; but that’s the thing that saved Cody. He would have continued trying to help her, but for that, until the red devils would have got him. I know what te talk- ing about.” “You don’t reckon, then, that she’s a pris ner oO ther Apaches: 7 ther war-path before! 2” “Reckon that she is? Certainly not.” “War them Billy ther Kid’s gang?” He stood up, with water dripping from his hands. “They’re his friends, all right; though likely not mem- bers of his band. He’s got friends ans all ee sneak- ing Apaches!” “And they war tryin’ ter help him: a “I’m sure of it. She joined them, and ee to trap us.” Buffalo Bill kee “One thing is certain. path again. And that means trouble. were in war-paint.” “Waugh! Buffler, them red devils is allus on ther The Apaches are on the war- Those fellows _-war-path, except when they’ve been licked so. bad that they’re afraid ter be. How long i 2 it sense they war on “Not six months.” ; ; “And when the troops had licked ’em and druv ‘em inter the mountains, and corralled all they could of ’em , on ther reservations, didn’t they eat ’umble pie and sw’ar by all ther Injun gods that they’d be good ferever after? And don’t they do it every time? And don’t ther govern- ment believe em, and go ter feedin’ the red murderers agin, until they git over their skeer and git fat and sassy, and git ther hankerin’ once more fer scalps? And then some fine mornin’, when ther Injun agent goes out ter hand out ther grub rations, don’t he find two or three dozen young bucks gone, and nobody knows whar they air? And ther next thing don’t we hear of some- body. killed and scalped by ’em, with a war follerin’ hot on top of it, with a lot of people and sogers killed? Waugh! It makes me plum sick ter think of it!” “What’s your opinion, Cody; don’t you think those red devils were friends of Billy the Kid? Or did they just happen to break in and make trouble at the wrong time?” asked Texas Jack, who had been sitting quietly on the ground, listening to the talk. : “They were oe of Billy the Kid.” “T thought so.’ “Some of Billy the Kid’s men have got in with ne and are leading them. Billy the Kid may even be with them. If he could stir up a war just now, it would divert attention from himself. The troopers would have to go after the Indians, and wee be called on to Help them. “The truth, in my opinion, is that ‘Billy theme a. ‘ stirred this thing up, and big trouble is brewing. Really, he’s a marvelous young rascal. We have almost sure proof that he has friends among the white thieves in the towns, and he is able to work the Apaches up to a fight- ing pitch and get their help whenever he wants it. Of course, there are always a lot of young Apache bucks spoiling for a fight and crazy for scalps. It doesn’t re- THE BUFFALO quire much to get them started\ A fellow like. Billy the Kid can do it whenever he sets out to.” what about ther woman We ain't got that | “But, Buffler,” said Wharton, “ what calls herself Miss Simpson? tangle straightened out yit.” “l’m afraid we’re not likely to. Frankly, I’m puzzled.” The words were hardly out of his mouth when a thin, skirt-clad form broke into view—the form of Miss Simp- son—and came running hysterically down the hill toward them. All leaped to their feet. Wild Bill dropped the meat he had been slicing, and caught up his revolver. Wharton clutched and swung round his heavy rifle. “Waugh!” he bellowed. “Speck er sin, and you'll see ther sinner!” i Buffalo Bill clasped the handles of his revolvers, but did not draw the weapons. “Oh, oh!” Miss Simpson was squealing. ‘Oh, oh, I think I’m dead! I think I’m killed! Oh, oh?’ _ “Runnin’ purty lively fer a dead ’oman!” muttered thic trapper, his keen eyes searching the slopes beyond, where he more than half expected to see Indians appearing. But he saw only the woman tumbling wildly down In a few seconds she was in their midst, panting heav- ly and ejaculating nervously. “Miss Simpson, you have no reason to be alarmed here!” said the scout. He looked out at the hills and along the ee of the ittle valley. “If you'll tell us what you saw thst a oe and how you happen to be here, and “Yes, that’s what I’m wantin’ ter know! How’d you git hyar?” : “I came,” she gasped, ine done in a fluttering eap. “Yas, I obsarved ye while you war caming!”’ he re- “I came on my feet, a. on my horse!’ “I see yer feet, but I don’t see ther hoss!’? ' “He threw me and ran away. It was right over there. Oh, I’m nearly dead !” Sie lookedat, % “Were you pursued ?” ecked Butfalo Bill, “Was I pursued? I was chased miles by those horrid ndians. Oh, I thought I should die! a I did nearly “die while they were howling after me.’ “Are any of them near here?” demanded Texas Jack, alking out from the camp. “Oh, I don’t know, Iam sure! I don’t know how far hey chased me; but. I know I rode and rode, and now nd then I heard them howling, and She leaped to her feet, with a squeal of fright. “There! There! Didn’t you hear that? That was BILL STORIES. 17 one of them! Oh, oh! You will protect me, won’t you? I know I can depend on you to protect me!” “That was the howl of a wolf,” said the scout. “A wolf!-Are ae sure? That must have been an Indian !’’ “No; it was the fowl of a wolf, off in the hills there.” She sank down again, trembling. “Oh, TPve had the awfulest time! Words can’t de- scribe it. You know when the Indians tried to surround us, and my horse ran away with me, because that arrow struck him! Well, he ran right through the ranks of the Indians, and then they chased me. I expected every minute to be caught and scalped. Oh, are you sure that was a wolf?” “Quite sure,’ said the scout, his eyes following Texas Jack, who. was cautiously mounting the slope of the hill. _ She began to laugh hysterically. “T’ve heard that howling for hours, and was sure it was Indians. What must you think of me?” She rocked to. and fro on the ground, and her shoul- ders shook with the convulsions of her hysterical laugh- ter. Apparently her nerves, wrought to high tension, had | gone all to pieces, Wild Bill was regarding her fixedly. He did not at all trust her, but believed her to be the personification of treachery, and that her presence boded ill for him and his friends. He was trying to determine if that spasm of hysteria was pure acting. 39 . Buffalo Bill was puzzled by it, and so was Wharton. “T don’t think Indians are near, or that wolf would not be howling,” he declared. “So, you may make your mind free on that point.” “But you will let me stay with you »” she heseed. “Why should you think we wouldn’t?” the scout asked. “The way that—that man looks at me!” She pointed to Wild Bill. Wild Bill’s big hat came off and he bowed politely. “Miss Simpson,” he said, “if P’ve had my suspicions, I lay them on the shelf for the present. As gentlemen, we always protect a woman.. So you needn't be afraid that we’ll drive you out of the camp.” In the reaction from the hysterical laughter, she began to cry. “You saw us from the high oe ae ened Buffalo Bill, “Yes. I-was running, from the Indians I thought, after my horse threw me, and expecting to see the horrid’ things right behind me with their knives and tomahawks, when I happened to see you down here. I didn’t know who you were, but saw you were white men, and I ran toward you as fast as I could, And to think the Indian I heard was.a wolf!’ . She laughed and cried see, “You don’t know how far you ran, atter your horse threw you?” - THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. “I don’t know. It may have been miles. I ran till I’m nearly dead.” Texas Jack returned to report that he “could see no signs of a foe. “Wharton,” said Buffalo Bill, “if you don’t mind, we'll take our horses and scout round a little, ad Deaes we can find Miss Simpson’s horse.” “Correct, Buffler !” The scout glanced comprehensively at Wild Bill and Texas Jack, who were to remain in camp with Miss Simp- son. Wild Bill followed him out, as he went with Wharton to get his horse. “You bet I'll watch her, Cody! This is a mighty sin- gular thing. Twice now she has appeared among us, and you know what happened the first time?” “But I recall that when she came to us in the jail she did us a mighty big favor, Hickok.” “That’s so, too; but [’ll watch her.” CHAPTER XI. THE TREACHERY OF THE VISITOR. The light of day was fading, but still enough re- mained for Buffalo Bill and Nick Wharton to pick up the trail of the woman on top of the hill, where they had first seen her, and follow it for some distance. “She seems ter have been runnin’, remarked Whar- ton, as he observed the imprints of her feet. “Yes, and that bears out her oa yotoas we can find where her horse threw her.” They pushed ahead as fast as possible. But the trailing was difficult work even for such ex- perienced men, for the soil was rocky and without much grass, and there were times when they lost it entirely and only picked it up after much circling and hard work, , They had not gone far before darkness stopped them, and they had not found the point where hoof-ntarks showed. Nor had they seen her horse. “We ain’t follered ther trail fur enough, Buffler, ter tell much!” said Wharton. “No.” “And it leaves us about as much in ther dark as ever as ter whether that lady war lyin’ er sw ‘arin’ ter ther truth.” i “It’s a singular chance that she found us here.” “TI ain’t fergittin’ that it’s mighty sing’lar, Buffler! I should s’picion her powerful, if it warn’t fos what she did fer us in that jail. That kinder sticks me.’ “We'll treat her right,’ said the scout gallantly. wouldn’t be gentlemen to do otherwise.” “But at ther same time we'll keep our eyes and our years open!’ “Yes; that’s what I mean.’ “We Rin 2. Pe Poe ah nth “the pot is so little. They rode back to the camp in the darkness, and found matters as when they had departed. Wild Bill and Texas Jack were seated on the ground, near their horses, talking with Miss Simpson. _ She had recovered from much of her hysterical condi- tion, and had retold for their benefit the ey ef her experiences, or alleged experiences. s Even Wild Bill was now more than. half eon iced that she was honest, and he would have been wholly so but for that ineradicable conviction that he had caught her trying to shoot Buffalo Bill in the*back, while she was talking to him in his room at the hotel in Glencove. That memory haunted him like a bad dream. She inquired of Buffalo Bill and Wharton anxiously concerning her horse, and showed nervousness again be- cause they had not found him. Wild Bill had cut for her some slices of the jerked beef he had been himself devouring. More of the beef was cut for the other remien of the party. Having seen no signs of enemies, Buffalo Bill believed it would be safe to boil some coffee. Accordingly, a small hole was dug in the ground, aa a fire, kindled in it of dry twigs, and over this hole was set the tiny coffee-pot the scout carried with him. “We'll have to make several pots of this,” he remarked I carry it for myself, you know, and it holds only about enough for one person. Will you try the first cup, Miss Simpson?” She urged that she did not like coffee. “Wharton, try it.” Nick Wharton had a great appetite for coffee, which could never be made too black and strong for him. “Can you drink it without milk?” said Miss Simpson, peering into the black liquid. “Ugh! I couldn’t touch | it without milk.” She shuddered. “I likes it better ’thout ther milk!’ declared the trap- | | per, as he turned the stuff out into his cles drink- | ing-cup, and swallowed it piping hot. Buffalo Bill rose to get more water, for another pot | of coffee, and in doing so stumbled and knocked the bag | of coffee into the little stream, which swept it away. “Too bad!” he said, in a tone of disappointment, while Miss Simpson echoed his exclamation. “Wharton, you're dead’ lucky!” he cried. of us will go without coffee this evening.” But they had plenty of water; and the jerked beef, warmed over the glowing coals, was not bad. They had some crackers, too, of which a goodly supply had been brought along; and, altogether, they might have | been faring much worse. f All were “dead tired.” They had ridden hard and | fought hard that day, and the previous Hight had passed | almost without sleep. “The rest THE BUFFALO _ Miss Simpson declared that she was “exhausted.” | The spot where they were camped looked to be secure, and was believed to be so. _ They expected to take up some strenuous work in the morning, in their efforts to locate Billy the Kid, and bring him and some of his’ principal men to justice, or ‘put them out of the business” by doses of lead. _ “Wharton,” said the scout, laughing, “I’m going to et you stand first watch to-night. You swallowed all hat coffee, like a greedy rascal, and didn’t give any of he rest of us a smell of it, and that coffee will help to Keep you wakeful for a time. Call me at ten o’clock.”’ _ Wharton took his long rifle and stationed himself at a point which gave him a good view of the little valley | and its approaches. Buffalo Bill and the others rolled in their blankets, and were soon asleep. _ Miss Simpson had been furnished a blanket, and lay a little apart from the men, and when Wharton walked past, or rather near her, she was actually snoring. , “Plum tuckered out!’ he muttered, and he felt a little twinge of remorse, thinking that*no doubt he had un- intentionally done her a great injustice. _ Wharton recognized that he was feeling undeniably ; leepy.” i _It was natural that he should feel so, he thought, and ie struggled against it. But the desire to sleep grew on him with amazing wwiltness. He caught himself staggering sleepily as he walked his beat with rifle in the hollow of his arm, and roused himself with a jerk. “Waugh! I gotter keep stirrin’ and lively till ten Block, anyhow!’ he muttered, looking at the stars, which were his watch at night. _ He braced up a bit. _ Feeling himself again growing so sleepy that he a 10t hold his e yes open, he walked down to the stream, aitly staggering with slumber, intending to dash cold vater into his face to enable him to resist it, _ He knelt by the stream, his gun sliding to the ground. __ And then he slipped down helplessly, within a foot of he water, and his head falling over on one arm, he lay leeping and unconscious. Miss Simpson rolled uneasily and lifted her head a ‘trifle. Then she lifted it higher, and smiled in a grim way yhen she saw the recumbent form of old Nick Wharton, Sitting up, with the blanket folded about her, she vaited a minute, listening to the deep breathing of the men near. ( Then she rose cautiously, and drawing a knife, whose bright blade she concealed in the sleeve of her dress, ‘while the handle she gripped with fierce and nervous lutch, she began to slip stealthily toward Buffalo Bill, BILL STORIES. 19 She heard the purling of the stream, and the noise made by the horses tearing at the grass. She hesitated for an instant as she oe the great scout. Apparently, even in his sleep she feared him. Then she stole on, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glittering. Kneeling beside him, she lifted the knife, the bright blade slipping out of her sleeve and gleaming in the star- light. “Die!” she hissed, striking quickly, and straight at his heart. But there was an instant transformation. The scout’s right arm flew up, knocking aside the deadly-aimed blow, and then he was leaping to his feet. The knife fell with a click to the ground, and Miss Simpson, thoroughly frightened by her failing to stab him to the heart, was running wildly out of the camp. “Good Heaven!’ he cried. The words and the patter of her feet brought the other two sleeping members of the party leaping up. “What is it?’ cried Wild Bill. Without answering, Buffalo Bill drew his revolver and sped after the fleeing woman. “Somethin’s broke,” said Texas Jack, getting out his revolver. “Where are the horses?” “Here they are.” “Where’s Wharton ?” “T don’t know.” “Was that the woman running ?” “Tl never tell you. Yes, I think it was!” With an oath, Wild Bill sprang away, following oe falo Bill. Texas Jack ran down to the stream, where he now saw the prostrate form of the old trapper. @ “Nick!” he cried, in an agony of apprehension. “Have they knifed you, old fellow?” He lifted the trapper’s head, and felt for knife wounds, and then began to dash cold water from Hie stream in his face. Buffalo Bill was pursuing the woman, and Wild Bill was following him hotly. But the darkness favored her. She ran into the shad- ows of some trees near, and either by crouching and dodging there, or else by superior running, got out of sight, Buffalo Bill ran on for some distance,: until he was sure she had outwitted him. “Cody!” came in the voice of Wild Bill. “Yes, Hickok! Keep a sharp watch there!” “Was it the woman?” Oa ee. “What did she do?” “Tried to stab me.” ZO “The she-devil! You’re sure of it?” Dead) Suze. “Lucky she didn’t!” “It was pure luck that she didn’t.” “You were asleep?” Ovea “The she-devil! away.” But she did get away. They stopped when they had searched in vain. “Cody, how was it?” Wild Bill asked again. “I can hardly tell you. Something waked me—one of my presentiments, I think. I know I woke up sud- denly, feeling that great danger was near, and then I saw her there, with the knife in her hand descending toward my heart. With a movement that was almost involuntary, I knocked it away, and struck so hard that she dropped the knife, And then she ran,” | “Queer that Wharton didn’t see her!” “Very queer.” “But, Cody, you know I’ve suspected her! fools for going to sleep in that way.” They heard Texas Jack shouting something, and they dropped their talk and ran down to the stream by the camp. It was not queer, then, that Wharton had not seen her, for they discovered that Wharton was unconscious. ‘He's as litnp as a rae, said Texas Jack, “and yet I can’t find a wound on him. What do you make of Mee Buffalo Bill scratched a match, in spite of the danger of revealing themselves to enemies, and by its light a quick examination was made. “The coffee!” he said suddenly, the true explanation coming to him like a flash. “The coffee?” queried Wild Bill. mean ?”’ “He’s the oly one who drank any coffee, and it must have been drugged.” By nere Nes “Great guns.” ‘Here, rouse out of this, Nick!” Texas Jack was cry- ing, and he was again dashing water into the trapper’s tacos “Then, Cody, she tied to drug all of us! “That was her intention, but I accidentally knocked over the rest of the coffee, and Nick only got some.’ Wild Bill was staring stupidly, | “But, Cody, how’d she do it?” he went on. “T don’t know. She got the drug into the coffee in some way. She looked into the pot, you remember, and Well, we'll find her; she can’t get We were “What do you (?? remarked that she wouldn’t care to drink it without milk. That might have been when she did it. I’m sure that’s when it was done, if it was a drug,” THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. : = All turned together to try to arouse old Nick Wharton. “The she-devil!” Wild Bill was muttering. “I’ve had a feeling in my bones that she was a trickster!” Then he recalled that she had aided them to escape "from the adobe jail at Lansing, and again he was en- meshed in puzzling doubt. “He’s coming round, I believe!” cried Texas Jack hope- fully. ea cca CHAPTER XII. BUFFALO BILL'S ESCAPE. While the attention of the three scouts was thus ioe to old Nick Wharton, they heard a sound that made them start. It was the soft pattering sound of running moccasined feet. “The Apaches!” said Buffalo Bill. “Billy the Kid’s devils!” added Texas Jack. “We've got to run for it, before they close in on us,’ whispered the scout. “Here, let me help you! Hickok, get up the horses.” While he and Texas Jack lifted the limp form of the old trapper, at the same time catching up his rifle, and began to run with him toward the horses, Wild Bill leaped on before them with incredible speed. Before Hickok could get the lariats loose and the sad- dles on the horses cinched tightly, a horrible series. wos yells broke on the air. 6 . The Apaches: had discovered that their coming was pow and they cast aside all attempt at secrecy. Then they rose into view and began to pour a rain of bullets and arrows down into the valley. Some were running along the slopes of the valley, trying, as on that previous occasion, to surround the little party. “Here; up with him! Onto my horse!” Buffalo Bill gave the command; but the horse, which in the darkness he thought was his, was Texas Jack’s; seeing which, Texas Jack scrambled to its back, to hold Nick Wharton in position there. 8 Hastily, Wild Bill and Buffalo Bill climbed into their saddles, and then began to shoot at the running forms of the Indians, dimly visible in the darkness, but re- vealed by their splitting rifle-fire. - The yells of the Apaches volleyed louder than ever, The hill seemed fairly to swarm with them. “Straight ahead—up the valley!’ Buffalo Bill com; —. inanded. He set his horse at a swift gallop, shooting as he went, At his side, and closely watched by him, came Texas Jack, holding Wharton in front of him. 5 He did not attempt to use Nee nor old “Nick's big rifle. 110 tie BUPTALO Bi Wild: Bill and the scout did all the shooting. / It was quick, hot work; yet not quick enough. The _ Indians began to mass in front of them, shocting closely, ' so that they. heard the “zip-p” of bullets and the pecu- mo liar a “whir-r” of flying arrows. Straight at the Apaches rode the scout, yelling now as loudly as any of them. He broke a hole through the circle there, pistoling all : 4 who opposed him, and behind him he heard the thun- | dering hoofs of the horses of his friends. Then they were through that cordon of death, and | racing away like the wind, pursued by rifle-bullets and “arrows and by the screaming yells of their baffled foes. e In a little while they drew rein, and Buffalo Bill ' shifted to his horse the heavy burden of the limp body __ of old Nick Wharton. | Wild Bill was grumbling over a bullet-wound in the ' calf of his leg, but they dared not halt long enough to [ inspect it, with mounted Apaches thundering so closely | behind, It was a hard chase, for the animals ridden by our ‘friends were already stiff from wounds received during the day. But they distanced their foes in the darkness; and, 7 turning aside, rode off at a tangent. For five miles or more they kept on, and then Aeon i) rein. A small fire was then built in a sheltered place, and ) by its light Wild Bill’s wounded icg was given attention. , It had been bleeding so freely that his boot seemed ' full of blood, but the bullet was not in the wound, having | passed through. Fortunately, it was a small bullet, and ' the wound in the lower part of the calf of the leg was “not as severe as he had feared. Yet it would lame him badly, and for some time he would not be able to do _ much walking. _ .Buffalo Bill cleansed and bandaged the wound with _ |) the skill of a surgeon, and Hickok bore the pain with- ) out a murmur, even laughing at times. | But he was furious against the woman, and acta oe) y F nothing too severe against her treachery. | While Buffalo Bill gave his attention to Hickok’s in- | jured leg, Texas Jack tried to rouse old Nick Wharton out of a heavy slumber that still held him. ' It was slow work, and even when he seemed to ap- f. proach success, Wharton would become heavy-headed if again and was aroused again with difficulty. That he had been severely drugged did not admit of doubt. | Believing that they would be as safe there as anywhere, they put out the fire, hoppled the horses, and went into | camp. 1s [~=ONick Wharton was still slumberous, and Wild Bill’s ) wound made it advisable for him to keep quiet. ’s ©So Buffalo Bill and Texas Jack assumed the guardian- | (ship of the camp, and with rifles ready, they took stations, Do OR LES, 2 tor the purpose of watching throughout the remainder of the night. Inured to hardships, they had accustomed themselves to go without sleep for long periods of time; yet they had a few “winks” of slumber; and the exciting events just passed made them wakeful enough. They came together occasionally, when they walked the length of their beats, and talked in low tones of the treachery of “Miss Simpson,” and conjectured about it. There were some mysterious and inexplicable things which still baffled them. At the first streakings of day Buffalo Bill left camp, mounted on his horse and fully armed, and began to scout in the direction in which the Apaches had been last seen, The country was wild and mountainous, with many bare ridges of rock and water-worn cafions. Approaching the point where the Apache attack had been made, with the intention of there looking the ground over, if the Apaches were gone, he rode almost into a small party of Apache braves, before either he or they were aware of it. They weregas villianous-looking a lot as he had ever encountered. They did not seem to belong to Billy the Kid’s band of Indian desperadoes, They were half naked, and striped and painted for the war-path. They leaped up with fierce yells when they beheld him, and he wheeled his horse about in flight. The pursuit was a wild, yelling scramble. Turning sharply to one side, for the shelter of the hills, and finding a small river interposing itself, Buf- falo Bill drove his horse through the stream. The Apaches were right behind him, and pursued him to the water’s edge as he rode across. Turning in his saddle, Buffalo Bill fired at the Indians who had pursued him so hotly, and one of his fierce as- sailants fell back lifeless. . | The death of the brave checked the impetuous rush of the others, and Buffalo Bill got out of the water. He fired at the Apaches again from the bank, dropping another, and then he dashed away, with the Apaches vel ing behind him like fiends, Knowing they would pick up his trail and follow it, and that probably they would be able to summon to their aid other Apaches, who were probably in the neighborhood, the scout rode hard for a mile or more, and then de- scended into a cafion bed, emerging lower down on the barren, rocky flank of a hill, where the hoof-marks of his horse could not be seen. Far behind him he still heard the yells of the Apaches, and from their peculiar tone knew that the savages were calling others to their aid. “Yell, you fiends!” he exclaimed, with something like satisfaction, for he considered that he had made a lucky escape. co FE Rea 22 THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. CHAPTER OXI PUZZLING SIGHT. When Buffalo Bill regained camp he found his friends much exercised, with Texas Jack on the point of setting out to investigate. The Apache yes had reached them, and the sounds of shooting. His appearance was a great relief to them. Nick Wharton had recovered from his extreme sleepi- ness, and stood with his heavy gun in his hand, staring along the valley as the scout rode into camp... He was expecting the Indians to follow. “Run inter a hornets’ nest, did ye?” he shouted, his hairy face expanding in a smile. “And got out of it again. Wharton, how do you feel now ?” “Jes’ like old Rip Van Winkle, arter his twenty y’ars o’ sleep. I thinks, Buffler, that I could lay down and sleep another twenty. Never war so durn sleepy in my life. The boyees says ’t ther coffee done ther trick. It’s hard ter believe it, fer I didn’t taste nuthin’ wrong with that coffee.” The scout slid out of his saddle, and began to give an account oft what had befallen him. “And, Buffler,” Wharton went on, “I never trusts any woman ag’in! One minute they’re honey an’ ther next they’re vinegar. One minute they’re shootin’ love glances at ye, and ther next they’re stabbin’ ye in ther back. Buffler, I sw’ars off on ther hull caboodle.” Wild Bill was hobbling round, using a stick for a cane, with his wounded leg much swollen and very painful. : But he declared that though he could do little walking he thought he could ride as well as ever. “Tm a bit puzzled by those Apaches,” said the scout. “They didn’t look to be Billy the Kid’s men.” “But you can’t never tell, Buffler!” “That’s true, too. I think we might as well stay here a little longer, and see if they were able to follow miy trail. I believe it will puzzle them to do it.” But a little later it seemed that in this Buffalo Bill was wrong. Wild and continuous yelling was heard, which seemed to denote that his trail had been found, after being lost, and that the Apaches were coming on. > “Keep yourselves and the horses close, and I’ll climb up that slope and see what it means,” he said. He was away like a shot, and soon was climbing the slope mentioned. They watched him until he was lost among the boulders near the top. _ Suddenly he reappeared, beckoning. “You'll not be able to climb up there, Hickok, and I’ll go, if you and Wharton will look out for the horses,” said Texas Jack. When he reached the scout’s side, Texas Jack beheld something that puzzled and startled him, A group of a score of Apaches were in sharp pur- suit of Miss Simpson, who was mounted on an Indian pony, and was trying to escape by swift riding. The flight and pursuit were drawing on toward the valley in which Buffalo Bill and his friends had their temporary camp, and the yells broke more clamorously as the Apaches thus drew nearer, rolling out on the air like the bellowing of a pack of hounds in pursuit of a fox. “What does it mean, Cody?” “They’re certainly trying their best to capture her.” “But if she is their ally—their assistant—why should they?” “We'll have to help her, woman, imperiled by such fiends, demands our assist- ance, no matter what she has done.” “She must have quarreled with them, or disobeyed them, and now they intend to kill her. You don’t see any of Billy the Kid’s men there, do you?” “Some of them may be in that crowd. It’s impossible to tell.”’ The devils are coming straight this way! , “Yes; we'll get back to camp, and prepare to go to a aid.” But before they withdrew from the hill they saw the woman change the direction of her flight, and pass, with her pursuers, out of sight behind a low limestone ridge. {?? The two scouts now descended quickly, creating much excitement by their story. “Women air shore puzzlers, Buffler!” sagely. ; “TE you'll give me a lift to the back of my horse, we'll follow those Apaches and get to the bottom of this thing,” urged Wild Bill, “Though that woman certainly deserves no help from us, we'll see if she needs help.” “She'll need help if those red devils overtake her,” said Buffalo Bill, “There wasn’t any kindness in that war-cry music.” “Better that she should die than to fall into the hands of those devils, if they’ve turned against her. Cody, I’d shoot her myself, to save her from that.” said Wharton Texas Jack and Wharton were getting the horses ready. Wild Bill was helped into his saddle, and the party mounted and rode away. Striking into the Indian trail, beyond the limestone ravine, where the hoofs of the Apache ponies had deeply matked the sandy soil. as plain as a highway. Two miles beyond they came in sight of the Apaches, in a small, rocky valley. The woman had been captured, and they were scream- ing round her like wolves round a faffen deer. *Texas Jack’s name was John B. Omohundro, Omohundro.* A white | ‘The trail was thus for a time.4 Ta ~ T. a ag | th ; tél Su: | as | for | Sto N old rh ridge, they pressed on, finding that it led through a dry . dev k nO b’at the they . Mer es | creeter. THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. 23 “Shall we charge ’em?” asked Texas Jack. | . Buffalo Bill took out his field- gies and leveled them on the group. : “This may be but another clever telele eae said... “That’s what I was beginning to think, mayest ” ob- served Wild Bill, “but hated to say it, for it doesn’t seem a trick, But you know what that woman has already done.. The whole thing may be pure play-acting, for our benefit, intended to draw us to attack those rascals and get wiped out.” “The only trouble with that supposition, ” said Buffalo Bill, “is that they cotild have attacked us there in the camp, if they knew we were there.” “Yes, that's so, too, Uhe thing is,a puzzien’: “Buffler, they’re yowlin’ powerful like Injuns that’s got their bad blood up!” remarked Wharton. After scanning the distant group closely, Buffalo. Bill passed the glasses to his friends. _ “See what you can’make of it!” he urged. “They've pulled her from her horse,” said Texas Jack, as he scrutinized the group, “and they seem to be threat- ening her. I can see their flashing knives and toma- hawks.” . “An’ a deef man could hear ’em yellin’!” said Whar: ton. “I think it will be well if we get a little nearer them, so that we can make a dash to save her if they really mean bloody business,” urged Buffalo Bill. “There’s a hill over there by which we can get within a fourth of a mile of them, if we keep behind it.” He put the glasses away, and they trode from the ravine in behind the screen of the hill, and thus made a - rapid but unseen advance. From a distance of about a quarter of a mile they again surveyed the Apaches and their prisoner. Though the redskins still surrounded her clamorously, they had not actually attacked her; and this circumstance tended to make Buffalo Bill and his friends cautious and suspicious. In addition, the Apaches were apparently ee as if they expected the sudden appearance of some one; for, while the clamor still rose, certain of the redskins stood out as sentinels, with their weapons ready. “I thinks, Buffler, we’d better go er mite slow!” said old Nick Wharton. “That woman is a mighty onsartin We ain't goin’ ter see her hurt by them red devils if we kin help it, but at ther same time thar ain’t ® no use in puttin’ yer head inter the mouth of a grizzly | b’ar, unless you have to.” Glasses were not needed now to determine just what the Apaches were doing. After they had vociferated at Miss Simpson for awhile, ) they began to bind her. Yet as that might be only a ruse to draw the white men out into a charge, Buffalo Bill and his friends still waited, to see what further action the Apaches would take. They saw the woman tied to a an tree, and fuel heaped up about her. “Buffler, they’re goin’ ter burn her by wha? * said Nick Wharton, beginning now to get excited. “If they touch fire to that wood, we'll charge them,” said the scout. The actions of the Apaches. indicated that they really intended to put Miss Simpson to the torture of fire. Buffalo Bill and his friends drew their weapons and sat ready to dash out and attack that score of redskins if they proceeded to put into execution their apparent in- tention. The Apaches were howling madly round that torture pyre, brandishing their knives and tomahawks. Even some of the words reached the four white men, and they were words of hate and fury. “They’re in airnest, Buffler! Texas, they air, Buffler!” ing his big rifle. “If they touch fire to that wood, we charge them!” One of the braves was swinging round his head a lighted torch. Suddenly, with a scream of hate nad rage, he east the torch into the midst of the wood. “Charge ’em!” said Buffalo Bill quietly, yet with an un- forgettable intensity, as he gave the command. By ther horned toads 0’ said Wharton, nérvously finger- CHAPTER XIV..: _ DESPERADOES AGAINST APACHES. Buffalo Bill and his companions began to ride round the low hill which had screened them, putting spurs to their horses, and with revolvers and rifles ready, deter- mined to rescue the woman at whatever cost, and in spite of her seeming acts of enmity against them. She was a woman in peril, and that made them forget everything else. But before they had wicden out into the open and thus into view of the Apaches, counter yells tose loudly —yells that threw the Apaches into a sudden commotion. Buffalo Bill drew rein, throwing his horse back on its haunches. : The others imitated his example, thus coming to an immediate halt. “What’s broke, Buffler?” “We'll have to dismount and see. where you are just a minute.” “But ther fire’s gittin’ at her, Buffler!” — The scout threw his bridle-rein to Texas Jack, leaped from the saddle, and, writhing forward close to the ground for a few paces, reached a point where he could again see the Apaches. What he beheld was astonishing, | Or I will; stay bi 24) THE BUFFALO ae ae had thrown ee into fichting ar- ray; and dashing down the hill toward them came more than a score of horsemen, riding like the wind. : They were yelling, too, as loudly, and in the same manner, Buffalo Bill saw that many of them, too, were Apaches; in fact, that they were Billy the Kid and his desperadoes. “Billy the Kid and his men have attacked the Apaches,” he said, speaking so that his friends could hear, for there was no chance, in that wild babel, that the words could be heard by the Indians. The other horsemen, with the exception of Wild Bill, jumped from their horses, leaving Wild Bill in charge of them, and crawled up beside the great scout, quiver- - ing with excitement. Wild Bill could not dismount readily because of his wounded leg. Some of Billy the Kid’s men, half of them ae were white men, but these were yelling as wildly as their Indian comrades. ‘The Apaches of Billy the Kid’s party were in war- ‘paint and feathers, and some of the white men of the desperado band affected Indian garments and ornaments ; but others were ragamuffins, as to clothing, and tattered and unkempt as to their general appearance. Buffalo Bill and his friends began to understand the terrible drama that was now being enacted before them. Billy the Kid and his men had come to Miss Simp- son’s rescue! Billy the Kid’s desperadoes had’ become aware of the fact that she was about to be burned at the stake. Those other Apaches were not of Billy’s band, though they were of the San Carlos tribe to which he belonged and from which his Apache desperadoes were drawn. - Yet they had never followed him, and were not profes- sional robbers, but simply unmitigated savages, with an innate love of bloodshed and cruelty. “Miss Simpson” having fallen into their hands, they were about to torture her to gratify their love of cruelty. They had expected, or feared, that thei) teast.o8 | bloodthirstiness might be interfered with, which had ex- plained their sentinels. Now, thrown into a rage by this attack and interference, they swung their tomahawks and set their lances in position, and with guns and bows and arrows met the charge of Billy’s men. The smoke of the fire that had been kindled round Miss Simpson had vanished, which seemed to. indicate ‘that the burning brands had been scattered by the des- peradoes who had come to her aid. “T’ve got to have a look at that,” said Wild Bill, -when he heard the terrific roar of the battle. Buffalo Bill ran back to help him, lifting him from the saddle. Then they tied the horses; and Wild Bill, with the scout’s aid, crept up to where Texas Jack and - Nick Wharton were lying, looking at the whirlwind of conflict. BILL STORIES. An Indian battle is one of the fiercest things im- aginable. The yells are frightful in volume and shrill- ness. The whizzing of arrows, and the cracking of fire- arms make horrid music. The two parties had come together with the violence of opposing landslides. Dead men began to litter the ground; dead horses lay here and there. Other horses were racing wildly round, some of them wounded. One with so many arrows sticking in it that it resembled an animated pin-cushion dashed by the hiding-place of the scouts. Round the tree to which Miss Simpson was tied the _ fight raged with the greatest fury. “Waugh! It makes me wanterf git out thar and take a hand in it!” said Wharton. “When two rattlesnakes are fighting, it’s a good idea to let them kill each other,” the scout urged. “Waugh! That’s right, too; but this hyar sets my old blood ter jumpin’. Go it, rattlesnakes! But my oy perthies air oo ee ther Kid this trip, on account 0’ ther woman.’ “This proves that she’s a member of Billy the Kid’s band, all right,” observed Wild Bill, “It seems so,” Buffalo Bill answered. “But it don't. cVar up all. ther ‘myst mes, Waugh! Go it, rattlesnakes!’ More Indians and white men, Buffler ! They were “going it.” and more horses, fell. Gradually the fighting drew away from the tree where the woman was tied, and the watching white men could see her there, still bound to the tree, apparently, with a little curl of smoke risingsabout her feet. But the fire had been so nearly put out that she seemed in no present danger from it. | -“You see what we would have been in if we had charged them!” the scout remarked. “It’s a good thing to have Billy the Kid’s men Ho i it,’ responded Texas Jack. “If that fight draws far sone away from the tree, we can go out and cut her loose.”’ It began to seem that Billy the Kid’s desperadoes were getting the best of the fight. The Apaches were being driven back from the tree toward the lower ground. The yells still rose and the rifles barked. Suddenly the Apaches wheeled their horses round and- began to ride away. “Their chief has been killed,” said the scout, with. ay “tremor of excitement in his voice. “See! a hey ve got him on’a horse a ae carrying him away. The ae are whipped now.’ All could see the fallen chief, whose body lay limp across a horse, held there by a naked and stalwart In- dian. Round this Indian others were rallying, to pro- - tect him and the body of the chief. . Secon et =~ DM ic id re at ud 10 ar er es re her, ad and desperate white men can yell. Billy the Kid’s followers, apparently mad with the battle rage, were attacking this little body-guard. pursuit. ‘Looking out from the hiding-place of the scouts, the ground round the tree and near it seemed strewn with men. and horses, testifying to the deadliness of the com- - pat. Farther and farther away drew the fight. The smoke at the woman’s feet seemed to be in- creasing. : “I’m going out to scatter those brands and release ” said the scout. “That fire may be torturing her now.” “We'll go with you; we'll hang together,” said Wild Bill. “Just help this old cripple onto his horse.” They assisted him, and rode out from their hiding- place toward the tree. The only Indians or desperadoes at that moment visi- ble were the dead and wounded” ones on ‘the battle- ground. ' They galloped their horses forward, seeing that the smoke at the tree was rapidly increasing. Then they were stupefied by their discovery. The woman was dead in the ropes that held her against the tree; and in the center of her forehead was a bullet-hole, telling how she had died. Unable to defend their captive, the Apaches had fin- ished*her by that shot. CHAPTER XV. THE END OF BILLY THE KID. Buffalo Bill had swung down out of his saddle, and was about to cut the ropes that held the body of Miss Simpson to the tree, when his friends became aware that Billy the Kid’s desperadoes were returning. At almost the same instant Billy the Kid beheld ie four men by the’ tree. His wild war-cry lifted upon the air, and he rode to- ward them, leading his desperadoes, who were drunken with blood and success and in a mood for further fighting. : The Indian members of Billy’s band raised their war- cry, and the white men with them yelled as only fierce As they came on, they began to shoot with their re- volvers, some of the Indians letting fly with arrows. Billy the Kid rode at their head, a wild and fierce figure. He had donned Apache garments and Apache war-paint. His head-feathers floated in the wind with the motion of his horse. Texas Jack’s horse dropped at the first fire, hurling its rider to the ground. “All down !” shouted Buffalo Bill. THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. 25 The fighting was still hot, but it was a retreat and Wharton jumped down as if he were a boy. They let their horses go, and, diving behind the bodies of fallen horses, they met the attack of the ae with a hot revolver and rifle-fire. Billy the Kid’s hatred of Buffalo Bill was at that mo- ment at white heat. All the wrongs and outrages against him which he laid at the door of Buffalo Bill rose be- fore him to make him mad with rage. Billy the Kid believed that in all the Southwest he had no more implacable and malignant foe. He fancied that his own safety lay in the death of Buffalo ‘Bill. : In his eyes, Buffalo Bill was the embodiment of law and order, things which he hated and against which he was perpetually arrayed. Buffalo Bill stood for the might of the United States Army, for the government at Washington, for the judges and the courts of the Terri- tories. Bending low on his horse’s mane, with his long eagle feathers flying from the strands of his snaky-black hair, Billy the Kid rode now at Buffalo Bill like a thunderbolt. It was really a magnificent spectacle. He had dropped his bridle-rein on the neck of his horse, and worked a revolver in each hand. Buffalo Bill’s horse went down, shot through the head; and the scout felt bullets tear through his clothing, one of them raking the skin of his shoulder like the passage of a red-hot splinter. But he was out of his saddle even before his horse struck the ground, and he was uninjured, except as to that insignificant bullet scratch. He heard the desperadoes yelling, and heard a cheers of his friends. Dropping to one knee, he replied to the revolver-shots of Billy the Kid. The desperado leader swayed in the saddle as if hit. Buffalo Bill fired again. The rush of the desperado’s horse seemed almost to beat down the scout as his: re- volvers roared; but Billy the Kid went by, reeling in his saddle. “Take that, you snake!’ he cried, in excellent Eng- lish, and fired as he went by at the scout’s broad breast. The bullet struck the handle of the scout’s uplifted revolver, and glanced off without injuring him. Half of Billy the Kid’s remaining men had fallen in that mad charge on the four desperate scouts; and the others rode wildly on, at the heels of Billy the Kid, satisfied with that taste of the scouts’ fighting. But Billy the Kid lurched again in his saddle, and his body striking heavily against his horse’s neck, the ani- mal became frightened, wheeled round, and before any of the desperadoes could stop it, came dashing back to- ward the scene of the fight. Billy the Kid pitched farther out of the saddle, and Os eae a ee ea a en ne HE Ae he Na i eo en a oes Att ueiS Via ia nia ot hv anes Sot a GALA R eet a a RAI AY FORTY CUO RRR AmTO Ta Lm RU AU EW UTED RSISTaEn OA aek hen oh a0 pane SPs in es ate betnetniiesielems ipsa sean nah LeN Acie RRR YR SG Ae RE aM REN IMS iiret ANGE ; Seat pL mati Uk eters Umsaqe uN He leaped from his saddle, and lifted Wild Bill down. : 36 THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. then toppled over, and with his body dragging by the stirrup-leather, which had caught one of his feet, he was drawn over the ground. The horse was staggering, and fell before it gained the spot where the hot fight had taken place. Some of the desperadoes had turned as if to ride back to the aid of their chief, but when they saw him dragged in that way, after tumbling from his saddle, they felt sure he was dead; and they wheeled about and rode off as fast as their horses could carry them. Buffalo Bill was first to reach the fallen horse and ~ rider. The horse still struggled, trying to rise; but Billy the Kid was stone dead. He had been hit twice by bullets. Either of the wounds would have been fatal; and what little life was left to him after he fell from his horse had been crushed out against the rocks and the ground. He was a bruised and battered figure. - Buffalo Bill felt pity for his fate, as he looked at the body, recalling what chances Billy the Kid had been given and what he had become. But the fall of the desperado leader was greeted by Nick Wharton with'a whoop of delight. “Ther devil’s dead!” he roared. And he swung his long rifle round and took a parting shot at the desperadoes who were riding away. Texas Jack’s attention was drawn by a groan. With his attention thus attracted, he discovered one of Billy the Kid’s men lying half crushed under his fallen horse, and with apparently not many minutes to live. With the help of Buffalo Bill he extricated the des- perately wounded outlaw, and the latter was placed in We shade of a rock. “The jig’s up fer me, boys,” said the desperado, speak- ing with difficulty. “I tole Billy the Kid you fellers couldn’t be downed, but he made the tackle, anyhow, and o’ course I had to stand by him. But He stopped, for speaking was painful. Wild Bill came limping up, and stared into the face - of the dying. man. “Why, Cozzins!” he cried. “The same ole Cozzins,’” was the answer, and a faint smile flickered across the whitening face. “Allus up against hard luck, an’ up against: it wuss’n ever this trip. I tried to down ye, Hickok, but I didn’t, and now I’m goin’ over the Great Divide. I reckon that it was yout lead that got me; but I don’t hold it agin’ ye.” Wild Bill stood looking” ant at the man with an ex- pression of pity. —“T didn’t know, Cozzins, that you trained with fie crowd.” “Fer half a year I’ve been with ’em,” said Cozzins. “I had to. The gamblers skinned me; I couldn’t work, because I never l’arnt how; and what was I todo? I had a chance to jine em, and I did. But there’s a lot of re-- spectable guys that stand in with “em, more’n you'd be- lieve. “T think the sheriff and the bank cashier over at Lan- sing are two,” said Wild Bill. The dying man nodded an affirmative. “Plenty more of ’em than them two, Hickok—nice, respectable gents. So, maybe, I ain’t so bad as I might be. I played the game square, same as Billy did. He’s dead, I guess?” “Ves, he’s dead.” “Billy was a bad ’un, and a tough nut in some ways, but he played the game square. He didn’t pertend to be what he wasn’t.” He looked at Buffalo Bill. “The band’s cut to pieces; more’n half of ’em air dead, I reckon?! “IT tHink so.’ “You play the game ae too, Cody; and I don’t hold nuthin’ agin’ you.” “Pm sure we hold nothing against you now.” “Billy thought you was a square man, but dangerous, And that’s why he wanted to wipe you out. He was determined to do it. I advised against it, but he had his fy.” “T’d like to ask you a question.” The man fixed his failing eyes on the face of the Scour, “Who was the woman who is dead over there in ’ those ropes? You fellows attacked the Apaches to release her, I judge, and she was killed by the Indians in the fight. “Oh, him?” “The woman, I mean.’ “No woman, Cody. That feller was a man. But he had a womanish look and a smooth face, and he played the game fer Billy. Yes, he was one of us.” It was a surprising revelation. “Billy sent him to Glencove to kill me?” “T reckon he did,.Cody.” _ “He was one of Billy’s men?” “Sure thing, Cody.” “Then, perhaps you can tell me es he released me and my friends from the adobe jail in Lansing?” “T don’t know nuthin’ about that, Cody; never heard of it before. " he done it, he had his reasons; fer he was a slick ‘un.’ Thinking that there ae ue other wounded men among those supposed to be dead, Texas Jack began to _,- . make an inspection of the field while Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill were questioning the dying outlaw. But he found none. - Two horses that were badly wounded he shot. When he came back, the scout was still ee ques- tions of Cozzins. ~ But the desperado had told all that he really knew. a THE BUPEPALO They remained with him an hour, trying to make him comfortable; and then he passed away, in a sudden fit of coughing. “IT reckons, Buffler, that we'll never know now why that man—I can’t help thinkin’ of him as a woman— helped us ter git outer that jail,” said Wharton, in a tone ‘of regret. CHAP LER X VE THE REAPPEARANCE OF MISS SIMPSON. Before starting back for Lansing, Buffalo Bill and his companions buried the dead outlaws and Indians. : None of the living desperadoes or Apaches returned, or were to be seen. The man they had called “Miss Simpson” they buried with the other outlaws. g Of the Indian ponies running wild after the fight they succeeded in capturing several, for riding animals and pack-horses, and on the pack-horses they loaded the weapons and ammunition found on the bodies of the out- laws, together with the saddles taken from the slain - horses. Though they searched the body of the outlaw known as “Miss Simpson,” they found no scrap of writing that would give a clue to his identity, and Cozzins had not been able to enlighten them much concerning this clever and mysterious man. “Buffler,’ said Wharton, when they had smoothed down the outlaw graves and were ready to turn away, “T reckon we'll never run up agin’ another jes’ like him. And that last look at him, layin’ thar in his woman’s clothes, makes it nigh impossible fer me ter recklect him as 2 man. All the way back to Lansing they talked more or less of the mysterious “Miss Simpson” and his strange ac- tions. They discussed his attempts on the life of Buffalo Bill, and his devices to lead the scout and his friends into am- bush; and the “coffee” incident was one that Nick Whar- ton was never likely to forget, as he declared more than once. All the mysterious actions of “Miss Simpson’ could be accounted for with reasonable satisfaction, except that | jail release in Lansing. _And in default of a better explanation, they accepted Wild Bill’s hypothesis, that in doing that “Miss Simp- . son” had hoped to lead them into the clutches of Billy the Kid. It seemed a rather lame explanation, but it was the best they could find. _ And then they were given a surprise that fairly took my their breath. - It was when they arrived at Lansing. “Miss Simpson” was there ahead of them, and ‘had BILL STORIES. 27 caused the arrest of the sheriff and the cashier, and had sent them, in charge of troopers from the pest, to an- ‘other county for safe-keeping. “Miss Simpson’ was about to start forth from the town with other troopers to the aid of Buffalo Bill and his friends, who, reliable reports said, were in the desert region to the southwest, pursuing the outlaws under Billy the Kid. Buffalo Bill and his friends almost reeled in their sad- dles when ‘Miss Simpson” stepped forth from the hotel in Lansing and greeted them. “You remember me?” she said, extending her hand to the scout. “Remember you?” The scout was staring stupidly. “Somebody knock me down with a feather!” Wharton whispered to himself. “Waal, if this hyar don’t everlast- in’ly flabbergast me, I dunno what would!” “I confess that I’m mystified,’ Buffalo Bill continued, as he took “Miss Simpson’s” extended hand. ‘We buried you, or so we thought, yet here you are.” “Buried me?” Her face paled. Buffalo Bill explained, while his friends stared at “Miss Simpson”. with an amazement that was unabashed, and people from the hotel began to gather round them in the street. Buffalo Bill explained hurriedly, by telling her of the battles he had seen and taken part in, and of the burial of the bodies of the men slain in those battles. She grew even paler. f \ 39 “As you say, there’s a mystery here,” she said, in low tones. “Could I have a private talk with you and your friends ?” They had the “talk’’ as soon as possible, in the parlor of the hotel near at hand. “T think-?’m right in my fears and suspicions.” It was Miss Simpson who was speaking, and the reader may be sure that our friends were giving close attention. “Hints have reached me since I came into this section that my brother had joined Billy the Kid’s outlaws. He was always a bit wild. Five years ago he came into the Southwest, and for some time we haven’t heard of him. I am a detective, regularly employed by the govern- ment. My real name is Miss Simpson; my brother was Edgar Simpson. ‘When we were children he used to masquerade in girl’s clothing now and then; and when he dressed that way even our best friends had trouble in telling us apart. We resembled each other very much. I dislike to think it, but I am sure that my unfortunate brother was the man in woman’s ‘clothing whom you buried.” “Miss Simpson,’ said Buffalo Bill abruptly, “was it you who released us from the adobe jail here in Lan- sing?” SESE Shee 28 : THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. “To be sure it was. I discovered that hidden tunnel by chance that same evening, while spying on the sheriff. I learned what he and his friends meant to do—have you hanged by the mob. So I took the chances; got posses- sion of your horses and weapons, stole the keys from the room where they were kept, and went to your aid. It was a desperate undertaking, but I was impressed with the fact that your lives would be lost if I didn’t take it.” “Waugh! Then that clears ther thing up!’ Wharton exploded. ‘‘You’re a wonder-worker, Miss Simpson, fer a woman!’ She smiled faintly; and it did not seem a boast when she said: : “T have the reputation of being the best woman de- tective in the government employ to-day.” “And you fooled ther sheriff completely !” “T understand how easily it was done now, when I thought it was my own cuteness,” she acknowledged, but she did not smile. “He, like you, thought I was the other ‘Miss Simpson.’ So he told me things, and per- mitted me to go into various places, which surprised me at the time, but which I think I understand now. It helped me to do the things needed to bring your release, and we'll be thankful for that.’ “Miss Simpson,” cried Wharton, quite carried away by his enthusiasm, ‘fer a female woman you're a brick!” They all thought that she was remarkably clever. Buffalo Bill had slain Billy the Kid, and Miss Simp- son had discovered certain secrets concerning the allies and accomplices of that remarkable Indian desperado which resulted in landing the cashier, sheriff, and a num- ber of other men in prison for long sentences. Billy the Kid’s band no more troubled the great South- |. west. THE END. Next week’s issue, No. 269, will be “Buffalo Bill and the Robber Ranch King; or, The White Tarantula of Texas.” This is a lively story of the Texas ranches which you will be sure to enjoy. Do not fail to order this number from your newsdealer in advance, as it is one of the best Buffalo Bill stories published, and already has created a big demand for copies. ABOUT THE EARLY NUMBERS OF THE eqns upatissespreorare . MEDAL, LIBRARY O- 150—Frank Merriwell’s Schooldays. # receive hundreds of letters every week from readers asking if we can supply the early numbers of Tip Top W@W 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 Merriwell 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 complete list of all stories that have been published in book form wp to the time of writing. We will be glad to send a fine colpred catalogue of the Medal Library which is just filled with good things for boys, upon receipt of a ohe-cent stamp to cover postage, MEDAL, LIBRARY No... : 27i—Frank Mertiwell’s Chase. 276—Frank Merriwell in Maine. 167—-Frank Merriwell’s Chums, 178——Frank Merriwell’s Foes. 184—Frank Merriwell’s Trip West. 189—Frank Merriwell Down South. 193-——Frank Merriwell’s Bravery. 197—Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tout. 201—Frank Merriwell in Europe. 20s—Frank Merriwell at Yale. 20g—-Frank Merriwell’s Sports Afield. 213—Frank Merriwell’s Races. 217—Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour. 225—Frank Merriwell’s Courage. 2290—Frank Merriwell’s Daring. 233-——Frank Merriwell’s Athletes. 237—Frank Merriwell’s Skill. 240—Frank Merriwell’s Champions, 244—Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale, 247—Frank Merriwell’s Secret. 251—Frank Merriwell’s Danger. 280—Frank Merriwell’s Struggle. 284—-Frank Mertiwell’s First Job. 288—Frank Merriwell’s Opportunity. 292—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Luck. 296—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. 336—Frank Merriwell’s Great Scheme. 340—Frank Merriwell in England. 344—Frank Merriwell on the Boulevards. 348—Frank Merriwell’s Duel. 352—Frank. Merriwell’s Double Shot. 254—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty. 356—Frank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories. 236—Frank Merriwell in Camp. 262—Frank Merriwell’s Vacation. 267—Frank Merriwell’s Cruise. The Price of the Merriwell Books is Ten Cents per Copy. At ail Newsdealers 359—Frank Merriwell’s Confidence. 362—F rank Merriwell’s Auto. SagiiF Soe em ance RR ame etme Mea ean emimee gD nae erate te ti cnt imine tities etm eee ats mn ih Aas en Sta yy en es eet rate TS TU ; . ‘ y Ai i aa ye i & 365—Frank Merriwell’s Fun. ‘ ISSUED EVERY SATURDAY. HANDSOMEST COLORED COVERS esting. ence with all kinds of criminals, to cover. —he uses his wits. newsdealer. ay eg Beast Ne oe S ‘ey Ce E FIVE CEN For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, by the publishers to any address upon receipt of price in money or postage stamps No other detective library contains stories that are half so inter- Nick Carter has been all over the world and has had experi- | That’s why, boys, his adventures holds one’s interest from cover There is no brutality in Nick’s make-up—he does not need it Do not fail to get the latest number trom your TS PER COPY HERE ARE 477—Captain Satan, the Unknown; or, Nicle Carter’s Great Mistake. of Faith. 479—Abducted in Broad Day; or, Nick Carter’s Dupli- cate Prisoner. 480—The Tong of the Tailless Dragon; or, Nick Carter’s Close Shave. 48i—The Padlocked Mystery; Death Plot Trap. 482—-Dema, the Dangerous; or, Nick Carter’s Chase to Paris, 483—Nick Carter’s Murder Problem; Seek Game with the Dead. 484—A Battle Among the Clouds; or, Nick Carter’s Criminal Client, 48s—The Veiled Princess; or, Nick Carter’s Secret Ac- _ complishment. : 486—The Conquest of a Kingdom; or, Nick Carter’s Fight for a Throne. or, Nick Carter and the or, A Hide-and- 478—A. Wizard of the Highway; or, Nick Carter’s Test HE LATEST TiTLeEs: 487——The elu of Skeletons; or, Nick Cartet’s Greatest Fin 488—A Queen of Inferno; dr, Nick Carter’s Giant Foes. 48o—Nick Cartet’s Foxy Adversary; or, The Lures of the Bird of Paradise. 490—Three Times In Peril; or, Nick Carter’s Busiest Night. 491—The Gold Lettered Dagger ; or, Nick Carter’s Most © | tragic Case. 492—That Mysterious ‘Affair ; . Twelve Hours Work. 493—A. Dead Guardian of Millions; or, N ick Carter Un-' covers a Mystery. or, Chick’s Wonderful 494—The Mysterious Treasure Hunters; or, Nick Car- ter’s Bargain With a Crook. 495-~—The Klondike Bank Puzzle; or, Nick Carter’s Nar- row Escape. 496—The “Bad Man” of Nome; or, Nick Carter’s Hunt in Alaska. ir YOU _ of our libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can be obtained from this office direct. WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS Cut out and fill in the follow- ing order blank and send it to us with the price of the books you want and we will send them to you by return mail. POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Avenue, New Vork City. AVUN OUI SERUM ene eeu Pook wes 190 Gentlemen :—Enclosed find........ cents for which please send me: Cesaeut te Top NOR S CUMIN ee wove ss ees eeu Oy VORA NAG CEN SUUTEVIG TERUG s Gero CUR UE L CVU Nee HoH UNCON WNC GREG Mentors: “=~ 6 Nick Carter Nese el ue ee es ea Cle h es “cS Diamond Dick | Nos. io. ccs.s ce ceca ee rs coo eee ua PVE IA GNVOLNS CNET E UL PENS SV Ge polos Nee mean Liew ess “« _* Buffalo Bill NOS eck ece see reeves Che cucu ds Deed ey Vib s aki s COUCEUDNN CGT OC EGC wae eben Gy cere ee sei ung eu ee sc ** Brave and Bold Nos............... WEVA Use eC AV OL GWE SCC ME SV PSE MENNGVOU STIS 400) Whe CREM RY yc co Soule emt mile ee Cc. «© Rough Rider NOR kere ee yl ca eA So Wee NN da chorea Cu amatebee se Cota TaN ee Clu uence Name...... Re ORETT Ue eye wah Dre ueee gee Bereetaud (INO. y bia laus Ge vebves sav Neue eas ROW oo OU ces eee Staten sia Wc avian ws Abia theta. att tet eh hh cee tte ete yn Act ISSUED EVERY THURSDAY. Diamond Dick and his son, Bertie, are true men of the Western plains. They are noble-hearted fellows who don’t impose on the weaker man and who don’t let anyone else do it if they can help it. You ought to read how they clean up a mining camp of the dis-_ |_ honest gamblers and other toughs who usually prey on the uneducated miners. 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 486—Diamond Dick for the Flag; or, Holding His Own Under Old Glory. 487—Diamond Dick’s Strange Debt; or, Keeping His Word with a Scoundrel. 488—Diamond Dick’s Dumb Pard; or, The Ghost of Black Cafion. 489—Diamond Dick’s.Long Race; or, Neck and Neck for Big Stakes. 490—Diamond Dick in the Rapids; or, That Pale Man from Oregon. 491—Diamond Dick’s Red Foe; or, The Renegade of the Cascades. 492—Diamond Dick’s Secret Scent: or, The Doom of the Three Masked Men. 493—Diamond Dick’s Master-Hand; or, The Battle of the Green-Eyed Demon. 494—Diamond Dick in the Breakers; Savers of Vancouver. 495—Diamond Dick’s Lucky Ace; or, Turning the Trump in a Hard Game. 496—Diamond Dick’s Death Chase; or, Running a ‘Weasel to Earth, or, ‘Fhe Life- LATEST TITLES: 497—Diamond Dick’s Vampire Trail; or, The Mad Horseman of Thunder Mountain. 498—Diamond Dick On the Dead Line; or, A Close Call Among the Utes. 499—Diamond Dick’s Lost Trail; or, A Queer Hunt in Oregon. 500—Diamond Dick’s Midnight Duel; OF, The Girl Ban- dit of Powder River. s01—Diamond Dick On His Nerve; or, The Oath of the waner Circle. so2—Diamond Dick At the Wheel; or, A Race With Death on the Mississippi. 503—-Diamond Dick’s Show-Down; or, Calling a Bad Man’s Bluff. s04—Diamond Dick’s Strange Guest; or, The Outlaw Marksman of Arkansas. 505—Diamond Dick’s Hit and Miss; or, The Man With Six Notches On His Gun. 506—Diamond Dick’s Fight For a Girl; or, The Tender- foot of Bellair Gulch. 507—Diamond Dick’s Underground Trail; or, ‘The Yel- low Demon of the Sierras. IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS of our libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can be obtained from this office direct. Cut out and fill in the follow: ing order blank and send it to us with the price of the books you want and we will send them to you by return mail. POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Avenue, New York City. Gentlemen :—Enclosed find........ cents for which please send me: Di cotees copies of Tip Top NOS 2 Glew cas Pa MaheMecde i lass eeech usa eines evn enone spel lees caweseceuuee sacu een ae eee ene ‘c Nick Carter NOSiie acu deeou reas CG eNeMGe eG We scus ee cesisccceer ecu eb eName UO ala welt sacs sues eal wen Ar geoarnes woes Diamond Dick NOs tei ee aca Cal wudine s Soc se sues ols weeCen ates sls we Cowes uae a eaes soars ° cers. “« « Buffalo Bill INOS isle celgh cece ee se seus ce eeces Guero cl sence e tle ceas Cummmil Win cnicusls Ge uu ee ual ee cage ate ° asiesaes % ** Brave and Bold Nos... 0.060. .ecgses ec Pe ee este de ne ave shee a « Rough Rider NOS Uc vate aan aad clsisiniale ere OSES ec bee sles mieg beste scuc steiner Hie de secure ce gee eles esl eg as 26) OM es ree edie dec cigewet Street and No........ Rie uum enna alia hy Musca a cue a lesa leet OO) Pe ee ee Oe ee Town eveeoeeeoeoeeoverve State. rokelt eeoeoveeves 4 eee se a t J \ 8 a BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVERS {ISSUED EVERY TUESDAY. BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVERS Buffalo Bill wins his way into the heart of every one who reads these strong stories of stirring adventure on the wide prairies of the West. a Boys, ii you want tales of the West that are drawn true to life, do not pass these by. SEE 7) i Va ICE 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 248—Buffalo Bill’s Creek Quarrel; or, Long Hair’s Long Shot. 249—Buttalo Bill Among the Pawnees; or, Nick Whar- ton’s Redskin Chum. 250-Buttalo Bill on a Long Hunt; or, The Tracking of Arrowhead. 251—Buffalo Bill’s Wyoming Trail; or, The Ponghenns : of Red Hand. 252—Buffalo Bill and the Redskin Wizard; or, The Mystery of Biting Adder. 253—Buffalo Bill’s Bold Challenge; or, Fighting Red- skins in the River. 2¢4—Buffalo Bill’s Shawnee Stampede; or, Evil Heart’s ‘Last Call. 255—-Buffalo Bill’s Worst Foe; or, The Black Panther of the Sioux. 256—Buffalo Bill On a Desert Trail; or, The Dery ot the Mojave. 257—-Buffalo Bill’s Rio Grande Feud; Gr, The Gan of the Apaches. 258—Buffalo Bill in Tight Quarters; or, The Ruse of \ the We Tarantula. LATEST TITLES: 259—Buffalo Bill’s Daring Rescue; or, Hunted By Wolves. 260—Buffalo Bill at the Torture Stake; or, A Close Call Among the Utes. 261—Buffalo Bill’s Treasure Train; or, The Doom of the False Guide. 262—Buffalo Bill Among the Blackfeet; or, The Wizard of the Wind River Mountains. 263—Buffalo Bill’s Border Beagles; or, The Trail of Gold and Death. 264—Buffalo Bill and the Bandits in Black; or, The Wild Riders of the Wilderness. 265—Buffalo Bill and the Indian Tiger; or, The Leap for Life. 266—Buffalo Bill on. the Deadwood Trail; or, Cat-Eye, the Sioux Renegade. 267—Buffalo Bill in the Cafion of Death; or, Ringed In by Navajos. 268—Buffalo Bill and Billy the Kid; or, The Desperadoes of Apache Land. 2690—Buffalo Bill and the Robber Ranch King; or, The White Tarantula of Texas. [F YOU WANT ANY of our libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can be obtained from this office direct. ERS Cut out and fill in the follow- BACK NUME ' ing order blank and send it to us with the price of the books you want and we will send them to you by return mail. POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Avenue, SE York City. ee Suen ee Alec oe 190 Gentlemen :—Enclosed find........ cents for which please send me: mee eee copies of Tip Top Noseuce.. De Weer er eG eee ek ho ua un, USO ura eis alae rsisialeccme esis eos ae sesereee “© Nick Carter INOS eae ys serene scree eet n Gy Mote oem: Deeg een oi a usc eeslul see ca use eee ° ae. 1) © Diamond) Dick) Nosio.0 Oi ga ce aes ee ee ec casceae sy estes a « « Buffalo Bill Noe ee Peete i 40 Brave and Bold Nos. esa escent a ek cae ees cas es (2 Rough Rider: Nose Netiec s cc avers css on Strect aad NO. ee, ei, hese cess SP POWHe oc ects Sisto 75) latecas, “THE old popular favorite, Frank Merriwell, has signalized his triumphant return to the pages of TIP TOP, beginning with No, 512, by opening a novel where he has put into practice some clever schemes long entertained, with the idea of building up | the constitutions of backward lads. Here, there has naturally opened up a glorious opportunity for meeting new characters; while the strange adventures and thrilling situations connected with up-to-date American sports are handled as only Frank Merriwell knows how. The famous TIP TOP promises great things from this time on to its world-wide circle of admirers, and with this novel field open to such a talented pen, you may rest assured, boys, Burt L. Standish will spread such a feast before you as has never before been dreamed of. Tell all your young friends that Frank has come back to his own, better equipped than ever to atouse the interest and enthusiam of his vast army of boy admirers. Consult the catalogue below for titles. 512—Frank Merriwell’s New Idea; or, The American School of Athletic Development. Te 513—Frank Merriwell’s Trouble; or, Enemies of the School. a 514—Frank Merriwell’s Pupils; or, The Wizards of Water Polo. ee a 515—Dick Merriwell’s Satisfaction: or, Hot Work at Indoor Baseball, : 5{6—Dick Merriwell’s Discernment; or, The Heroism of a Coward. 517—Dick Merriwell’s Friendly Hand; or, The Boy Who Was Saved. 518—Frank Merriwell’s New Boy; or, The Folly of Dale Sparkfair. 519—Frank Merriwell’s Mode; or, Winning the Confidence of a Wild Lad. so 520—Frank Merriwell’s Aids; or, “The Secret Order of Scalp Lifters.” yt 52{i—Dick Merriwell’s Visit; or, Hot Times at Farnham Hall, e ; i 522—Dick Merriwell’s Retaliation; or, Fardale Against Farnham Hall, | , é 523—Dick Merriwell’s Rival; or, Dale Sparkfair at Fardale. | tL 524—Frank Merriwell’s Young Crew; or, The Mystery of the Boat House. 525—Frank Merriwell’s Fast Nine; or, Champions of the County. 526—Frank Merriwell’s Athletic Field: or, The Great Meet at Bloomfield. —527—Dick Merriwell’s Reprisal; or, The Clash of the Champions. - | 528—Dick Merriwell Dared; or, The Grapple at Wellsbure. Price, Five Cents. For sale by all newsdealers, or sent postpaid by the publishers wpon receipt of price. : | STREET @ SMITH, § Publishers, |= NEW YORK [THE FAVORITE LIST OF FIVE-CENT LIBRARIES BUFFALO BILL STORIES Ao a5 he STNG ARH Ce Buffalo Bill is the hero of a thousand exciting adventures among the Redskins. These are given to our boys only in the BUFFALO BiLL Stories. They are bound to interest and please you. These are stories of the adven- We know, boys, that there is tures of boys who succeeded in | no need of introducing to you climbing the ladder of fame by | Nicholas Carter, the greatest honest effort. No more inter- | sleuth that ever lived. Every esting tales can be imagined. | number containing the adven- Each, number is at least one-third | tures of Niek Carter has a peculiar, longer than the ordinary five- | but delightful, power of fascina- cent library. tion. MIGHT AND MAIN NICK CARTER WEEKLY iON WEEKLY BRAVE AND; BOLD Every boy who prefers variety Ted Strong was appointed dep- | % | in his reading matter, ought to | uty marshal by accident, but he resolves to use his authority and rid his ranch of some very tough be a reader’ of Brave and Bold. All these were written by authors who-are past r ters in the art way that everyone calls him tale is compl é in itself. certainly deserves his title. bullies. He does it in such a slick - of telling bo stories. Every “King of the Wild West” and he _ : whose only name is ‘‘Bowery Billy.” Billy is the true product of the streets of New York. No of Western advemiure is admir- ably. filled by this libraf¥. Every: up-to-date boy ought to read just how law and order are estab- | without imbibing some of that lished and maintained on our | résource and courage that makes Western plains by Diamond Dick, | the character of this homeless boy 2 | Bertie, and Handsome Harry. stand out so prominently. BOWERY BOY LIBRARY The demand for stirring stories The adventures of a poor waif [> boy can read the tales of his trials © THE TIP TOP WEEKLY Boys, Frank Merriwell has opened a school of physical devel- opment. He has gathered all of his old-time comrades about him and their adventures are wonderfully interesting. These are cer- tainly the best tales of athletic adventure.