Cents

ive

Seventh Ave., NV. Y.
a

EF

-S5Q

2

 

979

ice,

by STREET & SMITH
Pr

Y. Post Office,
1906.

LV.
9

APRIL 28

 

9

NEW YORK

Entered as Seconda-

50 Pr Year.

Tine nc neeraee

On $2.

PUBLICATION

By subscripte

A WEEK

One of the Jean, gray monsters leaped upward and snapped at the helpless form of the girl, but
Buffale Bill’s revolver cracked at the same moment, and the wolf fell writhing to the earth.

 

 

 

 

Issued Weekly.

 

 

 

is B000204 |

 
 

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¢

 

 

git mote cnnenr in arnannshamavgennanueini epg genera

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

   

REVS TT A WEEKLY. PUBLICATION :
” DEVOTED TO BORDER HISTORY |

 

 

Issued oie | By subscription $2.50 per year.

Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. ¥. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, ae Seventh Avenue,
N. ¥. Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1906, tn the Office of the Librarian of Congress, ee

 

over the world as the king of scouts.

{Be Beware of Wild West imitations of the Buffalo Bill Stories. They are about fictitiogs characters. The Buffalo
Bill weekly is the only weekly containing the adventures of Buffalo Bill, (Col. W. F. rial who is known all

 

NEW YORK, April 28, on

Price Five Cents.

 

 

 

BUFFALO BILL'S

    

oe

OR,

HUNTED BY

 

 

By the acthor of “BUFFALO BILL.”

 

 

CHAPTER. I.

IN \TIME OF NEED. ,

 

   
 
    
  
  

Dressed in his well-known and attractive manner, with
volvers in place and repeating rifle slung at his back,
id mounted on a handsome, mettlesome horse, Buffalo
Il held steadily on his way, wary and alert.
Around him swept the rolling plains of the lower foot-
Is region. On his left, for he was riding northward,
the foot-hills themselves, some near at hand, others
t and far away; on his right stretched the illimitable
meins, aSfar as eye could reach.
v1 he only signs of life visible were an occasional band
4 antelopes, a skulking coyote that slipped along and out
‘fof sight like a spirit of evil, a scurrying jack-rabbit
_. Jrouted by his horse from a bunch of grass, and now and

|then a sailing hawk which screamed in the blue distance
of the sky.
a pi ddenty he drew rein.

A thick column of smoke had appeared, swinging up

‘behind a foot-hills spur, far away in the northwest.
| “A prairie fire?” he questioned.

SS

 

- He drew forth his powerful field-glasses and leveled

them on the smoke column.

  

}

 

“Not a prairie fire,’ he said, after scanning the smoke _
for awhile. “A prairie fire would be moving before the
wind; that fire is stationary. There are no woods or
trees over there to burn.
would not be so heavy and black.
a house that is burning.”

He turned the head of his foc in that direction and
rode on, now at a sweeping gallop.

Yet the smoke was so far away that it took more than
an hour to reach and round the outturust spur of the
foot-hills; and then he saw that the cause of the smoke
was still far distant \ ‘

During that time the smoke had decreased, showing
that the fire was failing.

As he rode on it still further decreased, until it was but
a thin column rising straight into the air.

It must come from

When he at length rounded the last outthrust spur of _

the hills and came in sight of the fire he saw that his —

surmise was correct. A house, a small one, had bee

burning; but all that now remained of it was a heap 0

glowing coals and charred timbers, with some fallen oo

walls.

_ Yet it was not the house alone that drew his attention. ~
Beyond it, in a small grassy hollow, he beheld the

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

The smoke from a camp-fire *

 

 
  

a THE BUFFALO

figure of a woman, or girl, with bowed head, bending
over some object that. lay on the ground.

So absorbed was she in her grief that she did not hear
the light falls of the scout’s horse until it was close on
her; when she sprang to her feet with a cry of fright,
‘staring at Buffalo Bill with a face that was ashy pale
and from which the bright eyes shone with a look of
mingled grief and fear.

A glance at the object by which she hed been tinceting

showed that it was the body of a man. It lay on its back,
with arms spread out, but the face was hidden by a

woman’s apron, which "evidently she had placed over it.

Buffalo Bill saw, in that first surprised glance, that this

woman was but a girl in years—a girl of the border,

dressed as becomingly as any border queen; and he knew

that but for those traces of grief and the ashy pallor of
her face she would have been marvelously beautiful.
Under ordinary conditions she would have attracted any
man by her grace and her surpassing loveliness.

~The scout had drawn rein and lifted his hat.

“Your pardon!” he said courteously. “I think you
are in trouble, and if i can help you in any way you have
but to command me.”
_. There was a little rifle on the grass at her feet, and but
an instant before she had seemed on the point of snatch-
ing it up for the purpose of defending herself.

She stared at him, the fear in her face changing to
amazement.

“You are not—not—one of them?” she gasped, clasp-
ing her hands to her bosom.

“Tam William F. Cody, better known as Buffalo Bill,”
_ he answered respectfully. “T should like to help you, with
your permission.’

His manner was so kind and manly that even if he had

not pronounced that magical name she could hardly have
helped believing him and surrendering herself into his
charge.

Now she came toward him, with hands outstretched,

and dropped to her knees.
“Oh, if you are the great scout, Butalo Bill, Heaven

has sent you here in this ny time of a nieed | es Ly

cried.

He slipped from his ddle to the ground, drawing the
rein over the head of his horse and letting it trail, for he
knew that would keep the animal on es and
approached her,

“You are in trouble,”
has happened?”

The fountain of her tears by aon at these words.

But she tried to tell him what had occurred,

_“My—my father!” she said. “They—they killed him;
and then they fired the house. They would have killed
me, too; but I chanced to be out in the foot-hills there
at the time. I saw them riding away as I ran toward the
house. I was too frantic to fear them, and I do not know
if they saw me; but, seeing that the house was on fire, I
Tushed into it, and found ny father ying in the door-
way.”

She broke down again and was unable to go on.

Her beauty and her grief, and the horror of this
tragedy, not only impressed the scout strongly, but stirred
in him a fierce resentment against the miscreants who had
been guilty of this crime.

_ “They killed him?” he said, hesitating for words.
you know. who they were?’

“He was. not. dead when I found him,’

he said kindly. - “Tell me what

“Do

19

she answered;

BILL STORIES.

 

“and I carried, or rather dragged, him out of the house,
and down into that hollow. There is water down there,
and I thought I might revive him. But he died. He did
not even know me, and never regained consciousness.’

“You didn’t get near enough to see them well enough
to know who they were?” he questioned. “And 1: suppose
you do not know why they did this: i

“Tt was robbery,” she cried, with a sudden ae
that surprised him. ‘Robbery and murder! My father’
had been mining in the hills, and he had been rather suc-
cessful lately, and he had in the cabin a number ‘of bags
of gold-dust. They discovered this, I’m sure, and that’s
why. 39

Robbery and murder, and an attempt. to cover up
their hellish deed by burning the house,” was his mental
conclusion. -

He moved toward the body of the dead man.

‘The girl followed him; and then stepping on in ad-
vance, she took from the dead face, with reverent fingers,
the apron she had laid over it.

Buffalo Bill started back with a cry of surprise, when
he beheld that dead face.

“Jim Colter!” he said.

“You knew him? You knew my father?’

“JT knew him well,” he said.
daughter?” He looked at her earnestly. - “My dear girl,
I knew him well, years ago; and he has changed so little _
that I could not have failed to recognize him even af, this
time. He was a member of a scouting-party which I
once lead against the Sioux, under General Crook.’ Knew
him? I knew him then as if he were my brother! But |
did not know he had engaged in mining since.”

“We have been here more than two years,” said the
girl.

Unable to restrain her emotions longer, she threw her-
self now across the body of her murdered father and
wept in an outburst of passionate grief.

Buffalo Bill walked slowly back to his horse,

a pleasant home, albeit burned in this wilderness.

“Jim Colter!’ was his thought. “And Colter’s-daugh-
ter! My course seems to have been providentially suided
to-day. For if‘ ever I was needed in any place, 1) am
needed here right now.’

He did not disturb the girl in her grief Tears are
nature’s best restorer at certain times, as the scout knew.
She would be calmer and stronger afterward.

Leading the horse by the bridle, he walked toward ihe

smoldering house.

Having passed slowly round it, - was standing with

gaze fixed across the rolling plains to the northward
when he saw her come from the hollow in his direction.

Her manner had changed. The deathly pallor of het
face had given way to a flush that burned hot on each
cheek. Her eyes, blue as the summer sky, and a little
while before tear-filled, were dry now, though the tear
stains on her cheeks gave testimony to her recent weep+
ing. She walked with head erect, as if with a stern pur-
pose, and she carried the little rifle which the scout had
already noticed. She seemed a veritable Pine queen
now,

“You have told me that you are Buffalo Bill, and a_

friend of my father,” she said, as she thus came up to
him; “and I, his daughter, beg of you to do something
to avenge him against those cowardly imutderers, They
Went in “that direction.” .

rS6, you are Colter’s

unease a
at the smoldering remnants of what so recently had been

 

 

 

 

  

  
   
   
 
  

Na

 

3

  
   
 
  
 
 
 
    
  
   
 
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
 

       
&

 

 

tN a

 

i"

THE BUPEALO

She pointed in the direction the scout had been gazing
-——across the rolling plains northward.

“There is a town over there, right at the base of that
blue line of hills,” she went on; “and I’m sure they went
there. He has been in that town lately, and probably
while there he talked too much. When he came home I
detected the odor of liquor. I’m sure they got him to
drinking, and in that way caused him to talk of his gold.”

“I will help you,” was the scout’s simple promise.

“And at once?” she asked. “They are in that town;
but I think we can find them. We must find them!”

She felt nervously in a pocket of her dress, and drew
out a torn slip of paper.

“One of them dropped. this, I am sure.
before you came. It may help us.”

She gave him the slip of paper and watched him
anxiously as he read it.

It contained but a few words, and they seemed to be
merely a portion of a memorandum, which had been torn
in such a manner that no sentence was left whole. But
the handwriting itself might be worth something.

“Tt will be valuable,” he said. “I’m to keep this?”

She nodded; and he put it away carefully in one of his
ee pockets.
~“Yes, I will help you,” he repeated.

He had been thinking how he could help her. The
arrest of the murderers of her father was one of the first
steps. But another, which should even precede that, was
the burial of the man who had been slain Dy those wolves
of the border.

So he told her that ought to be done first: and that
then he would accompany her to the town, and there
together they would seek for the murderers.

A shallow grave was scooped out in the hollow where
the dead man lay; and in it the body was laid, the face
covered again by the girl’s apron. There was no coffin,
no shroud; but the warm prairie earth hid him away and
wrapped him as snugly as if he had been laid to rest in

I found it

_ costliest of garments and richest of caskets; and though

there were no hymns, the prairie winds moaned his dirge;
and the prayers of the girl herself, and her rain of tears,
expressed as sincere grief as could have been shown at
any funeral.

“T have a horse back there in the hills,’”’ she said, when
the grave had been filled in.

The scout had been about to suggest that in their
journey to the town she could ride while he walked, or
that he could take her up behind him on his horse.

“We will get it,” he answered.

He was anxious to get her away from the grave, and
from that smoldering house, and from all the sugges-
tions of grief which were everywhere about her; so they
set out together at once, the girl leading the way toa.
pasture, where a stream that came down from the hills
made the grass rich and green.

In that pasture was a little shed, en the girl
found her saddle. Her father’s saddle was also there.

Buffalo Bill caught the horse for her, and put on it the
saddle and bridle.

And then they rode away together.

“I know that Heaven sent you!” she said simply and
trustfully.

And she gave him a leok that meant more than words.

BILL STORIES.

1

i

CHAPTER If.
OLD ROUNDHEAD’S DESPERADOES.

While these things were occurring, high up in the hills
that overlooked the little town at their base, a body of
horsemen rode along.

They were a wild and reckless set, desperadoes all;

‘armed to the teeth, mounted on swift horses, and we

the bravado swagger of the men of their class.

They were hilarious, too, bandying rough jokes, guf-
fawing loudly, racing their horses at times, and indulging
in much coarse horse-play. They seemed to fear no one
along that wild and lonely way, and they encountered. no
one.

“He’s to be thar shore this week some time,” one of
them declared, when the conversation turned to a subject
that evoked more interest than any other.

“Old Roundhead, yer meanin’—ther boss?’

“Yas, him, of course; and t’other feller, too. Old
Roundhead sent word that he couldn't be mistaken—
that t’other feller was.comin’ by train frum his Texas
ranch ter Antelope Gap, and would then ride straight
acrost country ter Silver Butte. Both of ’em ought ter
be in Silver Butte by ter-morrer, er mebbe ter-day.”

“How much does Roundhead expect ter make out 0’
ther haul?”

‘i dunno. Youll have ter ax fim yo selt.?

“It'd be interestin’ ter know what ther divvy is ter
be!’

“So ’twould, and Old Roundhead’ll tell ye when ther
time comes. But don’t go ter rilin’ him by axin’ him, fer
that’d made him think ’t you didn’t trust him none; and
if thar’s anything Roundhead don’t like it’s ter have men
in his gang that don’t trust him an’ ain’t willin’ ter be-
lieve he knows more’n they do. He’s been ridin’ this
trail fer five years, holdin’ up stage-coaches and doin’ a
gineral road-agent bizness ; and he ought to understand
ther tricks of it by now.’

It was very plain that Old Roundhead, of whom these
wild men spoke so respectfully, was their leader, and had
laid out some kind of “job” for them.

That “Old Roundhead” understood his “business,” was
a thing all were agreed on; for forthwith they began to
recount strange stories of his prowess, of his battles with
‘sheriffs and army officers, of his hairbreadth escapes, and
of his wonderful nerve and courage.

“Old Roundhead don’t fear nobody!” was the declara-
tion of one, as he descanted on one of Roundhead’s feats.

“No; not even ther devil hisself.”

A harsh laugh followed. .

“He ain’t a feller that believes in ee Ole Boy!”

“Ef he did believe in him, he wouldn’t be afraid of
him !”

Now and then they fired revolvers in the air, in sheer
waste of ammunition. The rattle of revolver-shots was
music in their ears.

_ They talked, too, of the “fun” they expected to have in
the town toward which they were going; of the bar-
rooms there, the poker-games, and the roulette wheels.

They had “friends” in that town, it seemed, on whose ©
friendship they could rely ; and some of these friends were _
apparently officers of the law.

When, after several hours’ riding, they came down a
trail in the lower foot-hills, which would lead them out.
into the plains end on to the town, they halted.

il Was uccessary to scan the way before going on.

Sia ea hee as aca “

 
       

   
 

 
    
  
  
  
  
    
   
  
  
    
 
  
  
  
  
   
  
 

Sore

Bill? Waal, it war funnier’n robbin’ a blind man!

Te Nr NON Me fe a ST ear eR Ea et TOT HONS TT Sanaa a RIN aa NS a ara a ae

 

 

ere v
hea ei

De
De

gee se

THE BUFFALO

They were leaving their own dominions, the wild
mountains, in which, like wolves, they had their lair; and
were about to veriture forth into the town, which, though
it held friends, possibly held foes, also.

Less than a week before, this band had descended on a
bank far to the northward ; and though they believed that
this particular job of “safe-cracking” would be laid to
local burglars, or to some one in no way connected with
the real perpetrators, they could not be sure of it.

This sense of insecurity surrounding their lives at all
times made them careful whenever they approached any
point of even half-civilization, and made them suspicious
of all men. ~

They could not even be sure, in thus adventuring, if
those “friends,” whose friendship had been pronounced
on the occasion of their last visit to the place, had not ere

this turned against them, or been brought up to betray

them.

Several of the band rode now to the top of a near-by
hill, and there, with a glass as good and as strong as that
carried by Buffalo Bill himself, they scanned the plain
and the surrounding country, looking down into the town,
which lay spread out below them like a map.

That look down into the narrow streets was like the
view which the eagle must have gained as he passed over
the place. , ¢

Then another sight fixed their attention.

Two riders, a man and a woman, rode out from behind
a butte, heading toward the town.

At these they stared with something like excitement.

“Jack Clermont and his gal, by thunder!” one of them

__ exclaimed.

“It’s ther trail he war ter come by!” said another.
“Yas; he war ter ride over acrost the perairers frum

Antelope Gap. At Beaver Crossin’ he struck inter this

upper trail, and that’s how he’s so near ter ther hills.
Good thing fer us he didn’t take ther lower trail! We
couldn’t ’a’ seen him.”

All the members of the party on the hill took a look at
the man and the woman riding along that dim trail.

“Jack Clermont and his darter!’ was the consensus of
opinion

“It wouldn’t be easy ter be mistook in him, ye know,
sense he’s taking ter playin’ Buffler Bill,” was the state-

‘ment.

“He thinks he’s a bigger man than Buffler !’’
“It’s larfable, ye know!’

“You heerd about him gittin inter trouble over on ther
Brazos last year, through playin’ thet he was Buffler
One
o’ our gang, Jim Madison, war over there, and war
knowin’ to it. Clermont, togged all out in his Buffler.
Bill clo’es, wi’ his rifle an’ pistol, and wi’ his head swelled
ter bustin’, takes a notion inter his head that. he'll do a
real Buffler Bill stunt; and so he kites out after some
fellers that hed held up a stage, er suthin’. He has at his

heels a half-dozen other fellers as big fools as hisself;
and they comes up on ther road-agents, and proceed ter

git funny with.’em. In less’n ten minutes Clermont had
a hole shot through his shoulder and war skinnin’ away
frum them parts as fast as his hoss could kerry him. I
reckon a flyin’ machine wouldn’t been any too rapid fer
him about then!” ° ie
. Their laughter showed that this seemed very funny. —
“TY don’t reckon that feller down thar could be Buffer
hisself?” one asked now. :

4

BILL STORIES.

“Shore not!” was the ahswer. “We hed a reeport Of -
Buffer two weeks ago, and he was hundreds o miles

frum here, and goin’ furder.” _
MOh, it’s Jack Ca nee
oss’ letter says about him.”
ae speaker, es seemed to be Old Roundhead’s lieu-
tenant, took from a pocket a folded letter, and spreading
it out on his saddle-horn began to read it, while his com-
panions crowded closely about him, listening intently:
“Ten chances to one, when Clermont hits Silver Butte
he’ll go the whole bluff, with his fine toggery and every-
thing, trying to make people believe that he’s a man of
sand and a second Buffalo Bill. He’s played that game
round his ranch down in Texas so much that he’s got

Let’s see ag’in what

most of the people there to thinkin’ that he really is a _

bigger man than Cody ever dreamed of bein’. It’s likely,
too, that he’ll bring his girl with him. She’s a beauty and
young. But if she should fall into your hands before I
git there, look out that you treat her right, or there ll be a
lively settlement with me! Clermont’s got the wealth
all right—the richest man in old Tom Greene County;
and if we don’t squeeze his wad we don’t deserve to have
any more luck at all.” Sco

There was much more in the same vein, and the letter
was signed, “Old Roundhead.”

When the two riders had passed from sight beyond the
low swells that billowed out from the base of the fo6t™>, 2

hills, the desperadoes who had been watching them put
away the letter and the field-glasses, and rode back to
their waiting comrades to report on what they had seen.

A little later, the strange cavalcade was riding slowly
down the mountain trail toward the town.

 

CHAPTER (i
IN SILVER BUTTE.

    
       
       
         
       
       
    
         
         
        
      
       
 
      
    
 

  

     
 
   
  
 
 
 

- When Buffalo Bill and the girl, whose name was Jennie she

Colter, reached the town of Silver Butte, the afternoon
was far advanced.

Riding up to the best hotel in the place, which was poor
enough, though it boasted the name of the “Palace
Hotel,” Buffalo Bill dismounted, helped the girl from her
saddle, and, leaving the horses hitched to the long pole
used for a hitching-rack, went with her into the hotel.

Theit entrance into the town—they had come galloping
up the crooked, narrow street—had attracted a good deal
of attention; and a number of men swarmed now round

 

fay
e

the entrance, or squatted on the wide steps in front of the —

place, giving voice to their curiosity.

“It’s Buffalo Bill!’ one announced. “I know him,
though I ain’t never seen him in these parts. Thar ain't
another anywhar like him.”

The scout had walked with the girl up to the rude desk
at one end of the railed space, where stood a man who
was apparently. the clerk or proprietor.

“This young lady wishes to stop here for a day or two,
if you have accommodations,” he said, addressing the
man.

The railed space was a bar, as was shown by the num-
ber of bottles and glasses displayed above it; and by the
fact that in front of it stood a few men drinking, while
behind it was a pale-eyed youth in shirt-sleeves, who was
rinsing glasses, but who stopped in his work long enough

to stare rudely at the girl. bo :

The man addressed by the scout turned the hotel regis-

4

—

      
     
        
    
     
   
 

 
   
 
 
 
   
 
   
   
    
   
  
  
 
    
   

Tk,

reupon the girl wrote her name, in a neat hand—
mie Colter ;” and the man put a figure opposite, in-
ng the number of her room.

ere’s another hotel near,” said the scout, “and [ll
up there, myself.”

men in the place lifted their eyebrows in surprise
ey heard that, for they had been wondering if this
ng woman were not the daughter, or ite of the

side, the man who had stated that the stranger
suffalo Bill, backed it with a wager, and declared
e would “find out.”
came now through the door, with a swagger air,
ushinge forward, held out his hand.
iffer Bill, and I knows it!” he cried, smiling.
fe.
uffalo Bill did not seize the extended hand.
‘think I don’t know you!’ he said, looking at the
an with his keen, searching eyes.
“But I know you ! You're Buffler Bill! Ain’t it sol i
- got 2 little bet up with a friend out there. He says you
ain't, arid I says you air. Settle it by tellin’ us.”
“The scout smiled in a quiet way. He was a good
: Preader of character, and he saw that this man was merely
__ inquisitive.
“You win,” he said, and he held out his hand. |
anes you air Buffler Bill?”
The young fellow caught the hand a sought to crush
e it in his big palm, yet gave a look of pain and wonder
\ when he felt the “grip” of the great scout.

Buffalo Bill dropped the hand and turned to the pro-

prietor.

“Give the young lady the best room you have in the
| house,’ he requested, while the winner of the bet re-
“a treated, feeling himself inches taller because he had won

| that-bet and had been permitted to shake the hand of
1 Buffalo Bill.
: The scout now stepped outside, passing through the
a crowd, followed by a servant who was to take the horses.
There he inquired the way to another hotel and walked
away.
i It was night before Buffalo Bill again ventured forth
™ —_ into the streets. When he did so he seemed altogether
another man, for he had taken pains to disguise himself
most elaborately, and slipped out of the hotel unseen by a
back entrance.

He was now a tall, awkward, shambling miner. His

mustache had not only changed color, but to it had been
A added a full beard. Clay-stained overalls, together with
i a clayed coat, and big vest, stained with mud, completely
covered his ordinary attire. He had. discarded his boots
i) and spurs, and wore a pair of heavy, muddy shoes.
Thus garbed and disguised, and with a dialect that was
as remarkable as anything else in his changed character-

istics, he sauntered out into the street.

Some wild- looking men had come riding into the town,
and he had heard them speaking of “Buffler Bill,” even
before they had a chance to communicate with the loafers
who hung around the Palace Hotel like flies.

He did not know they were Old Roundhead’s band,
yet he knew they were desperadoes,

Apparently, from some scraps of conversation that
floated to him, as he walked over to the stables, where the

* Put

 

und, and thrust toh a stubby pen, which he filled

  

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. 5

desperadoes were putting up their horses, Old Round-
head had not yet put in an appearance.

The scout flattened himself against the wall and tried
to hear more.

“Shall we go ahead wi’ ther thing, ef he don’t how up
prompt?’ was a question he heard.

“T dunno,’ was the answer; spoken by the man who
was, in Roundhead’s absence, his lieutenant.

“We kin wait, and give him time ter git here; only,
mebbe they'll cut out in the mornin.’ Clermont was goin’
furder on, I understood.”

This was not very clear to the scout, yet he felt that it
was important,

The thing he had wished to do, on coming into the
town, was to discover who the scoundrels were that had
slain Colter, and fired his cabin after robbing it.

To do that, or in the hope of doing it, he went on now
toward the Palace Hotel, and entered the gambling-
room, which was in a building right beside the barroom
and hotel entrance.

This place was filled with a motley crowd; and another
bar in there was dispensing drinks to the thirsty cus-
tomers.

Some of these eyed the tall “miner” as he came in, and —

two of them soon came toward him. They were profes-
sional gamblers, who fancied him a pigeon that might be
plucked,

“Strike any pay-dirt yet?” he was asked by one of
them.

“Good sign, but not much of the yaller,’ he answered,
with a laugh. “I been rootin’ round like a b’ar up thar fer
a whole month, and ain’t got enough gold-dust out o’ it

ter buy mea good drink. i I sell ye that claim cheap, if ,

you want to buy it.”

“We'll play you for it.”

“Not any. I ain’t no card-sharp. Hain’t seen my pard
round hyar anywhars?”

“What's his namer”’

"Bul Leonard,

“We don’t know him.

“Well, he ought ter be in hyar somewhars, an’ I’m
lookin’ fer ’im.”

He looked for “Sam Leonard” for many minutes, wan-
dering through the crowd, listening to everything he

heard; and, at the end of that time, slouched out into the

street.
He had learned one thing, The band of desperadoes
from the hills, who had invaded the town and evidently

found many friends there, were waiting for a leader,

whom they called Old Roundhead; and when he came
they had a “‘job’ of some kind to “handle.”

He did not believe, however, that these desperadoes had
slain and robbed Colter.

Departing from the place, he came back again in his
own proper person. He seemed now a foot taller than
before, for the slouching gait and the bent, stooped
shoulders were gone ;

swinging in place, he was not only a marked and unfor-

gettable figure, but had so little suggestion of the pre- —

tended miner that not a person there dreamed of con-
necting the two.

The buzz of conversation died down as Buffalo Bill
strade into the room.

His keen eyes searched the room before hing; and then

and he stood erect, tall, lithe, |
straight as a pine-tree; and with the heavy beard absent, «
and the well-known clothing worn, with the revolvers -

 

   

eae ae
  

 

 

 

ait
AY

Se ee oy rate: ret
~ a poeeca oe -
ri ; } }

* si
ar ere

oo. THE BUFFALO

he saw something that made him know this bold entrance
was worth while.

A man by the window turned pale, and passed a hand
across his face as if to shield it from view; and, an
instant later, began to move toward the door.

Buffalo Bill stopped him near the entrance.

“I think PIl ask a word of you!”

The man’s face whitened to the color of chalk, and
instantly a shot sounded. In his desperation, he had
fired at the scout, with a revolver concealed in his pocket,
not removing the weapon for the purpose.

But his aim was bad in the moment of excitement, and
the ball splintered the doorway, passing on into the street.

The next instant Buffalo Bill had him by the throat,
and would have hurled him to the floor, but that a wild
rush of men followed the shot, dozens diving for the door
like prairie dogs scudding for safety; and they knocked
him down, almost stamping on him; and, in the confusion,
the man escaped, and was gone.

Buffalo Bill did not return to the gambling-room, but
hurried on into the street.

He felt that he had blundered. Until sure he could
“land” his man, he should not have attempted it, he
realized. ae

“Dick Torrent!” he said to himself. ‘And as soon as
he saw me he knew | was after him for that murder
committed on the Platte a year ago. And I’m sure that
if I had landed him I’d have had the leader of the gang
that robbed and killed Colter to-day.”

 

CHAPIER TY.
A WARNING.

‘Having left the gambling-room hastily, Buffalo Bill
took advantage of the excitement that reigned in the
street in front of the place to slip back to the stable where
he had been before.

No person was in or about it, and he crept inside, and
began to make hurried examinations of the hoofs of the

», horses, by feeling the hoofs in the darkness with his

/iingers. -

“Ahl’ he said, at length, as he found one that was
marked by having a triangular piece broken out of it.
“The very one!” ca

He ‘struck a match and looked at the horse, and saw
that it was a piebald sorrel, with flowing mane and tail,
and of the bronco breed; yet a horse that looked to. be
fast and tireless. .

Having made this discovery, he blew out the match
quickly and crept away.

He was hardly outside when two men came in that
direction.

“T thought I saw a light,’ said one of them; “but I
guess I didn’t.”

’ They did not perceive the scout in the darkness, but
« went into the stable. In there he heard them talking.
; | lake Torrent’s hoss,” said the man.
» When they came out they were leading the piebald
sorrel.

The excited men in front of the Palace Hotel were still
talking and wrangling, as Buffalo Bill retreated to his
hotel and room.

_ He was thinking over the situation and the significance
of the discovery, when a light tap fell on the door.
Instead of answering it immediately, he drew a re-

%
%

mre . ' Ne rE iA

Fa ESOS ;
farce ENTS ere Seer Ra oe eR

 

f

BILL STORIES.

volver; and, with it ready in his hand, looked at the door,
sitting meanwhile quietly in his chair.

He knew that perils were thickening round him. He
was a stranger in the place. The town was filled with
desperadoes from the mountains. Dick Torrent was

there; and Torrent, now that he felt Buffalo Bill had come -~

to Silver Butte for him, would leave no stone unturned to
compass his death. ,

Rising softly, as the light tap was repeated, he drew the
door open with a quick jerk, at the same time stepping
behind it, and the person outside found himself looking
into the tube of the deadly revolver.

But the caller was the young fellow who had wagered
on his belief that this striking stranger was Buffalo Bill.
_ His face paled when he beheld the weapon with its
muzzle pointed at his head.

“Come in,’ the scout invited, when he saw who it was.

He closed the door as the man came in, and then
locked it. :

The young fellow laughed nervously as he dropped into
a chair.

“T didn’t know but I had my call fer kingdom come,’
he acknowledged. “That fair scairt me.” ee

Buffalo Bill put away his weapon.

“I’m yer friend, Buffler; not because you helped me ter -

win that bet, but because I admires yer. And I’ve come
ter whisper a warnin’, and then I’m ready to go.
man, Dick Torrent, that you had the little ruction with
down at the Palace, is layin’ fer ye, and he’s got a power-
ful lot o’ friends in this town.”

“You've heard something ?”’

“T heard that. My name’s Adams—Ben Adams; I
didn’t interduce myself before. Torrent is plannin’ ter
shoot you full of holes the next time you show up out in
the street. And he'll do it, if you don’t look out fer
him.”

“Adams,”’ said the scout, “I must ask your pardon for

not greeting you more warmly when you first approached ~

me in that hotel. But you: understand that not every man
is to be trusted, and you were then a stranger to me.
More than once I’ve known a man to reach forth his hand
for a hand shake, when at the same time he had in his
other hand a knife or pistol for the man he pretended to
wish to shake hands with. I’m glad to know you, for I
can see that you're all right.”

Ben Adams’ face flushed with pleasure.

“You must have run some risk in coming up here with
this warning?” :

“Waal, I did, a little. I seen one o’ Torrent’s men out
on ther corner; but I war keerful not ter let him know
which way I war goin’. I mounted ter this room by the
back entrance. I think he’s layin’ round outside hopin’
ter git a crack at you.”

The scout had taken a seat, but it was well away from
the window and the door, as Adams noticed.

“You know something about this man Torrent?”

“Not much; and what I do know ain’t any too good.” _ i.

“Fle’s a professional gambler ?”
NGS 7

“And he has a gang round him, ready to do his work?”
“Waal, it ain’t never been healthy fer any one ter jump

onter Torrent in ther gamblin’-house; he’d have ther

whole caboodle o’ them wolves right on top o’ him before
you could say ‘Scat!’ ”’

“There was a murder committed to-day, Adams; a
most cold-blooded murder, and for money. Did you ever

 

 
 

 

hat 6

 

 

 

 
 

“a

 

 

 

seem ter have friends hyer a-plenty.

THE BUFFALO

hear of a man named Colter—a miner, who had a cabin
off near the hills to the south of here, and who lived there
alone with his daughter ?”

Ben Adams’ eyes opened very wide.

_ “T thought that war his darter that you rid inter town
with, and I says so ter the boys!”

: “Yes, that was his daughter. Colter was murdered to-
day for his money, by a band of men who afterward
came in this direction. They fired his house, burning it
to the ground, after they_had finished the job. 1 followed
their trail until I was sure it came to this place, and then
I came on into the town with the girl. And I’m pretty
sure that the leader of that. murderous crew was Dick
Torrent.’

- “You've yer reasons for thinkin’ so?’

“A number of very good reasons; but the one you'll
think the best is, that in following the trail of Colter’s
murderers to- -day I noticed peculiar hoofmarks, and.have
since discovered that the horse which made them belongs
to Dick Torrent. Would you know Torrent’ S horse if I
described it to you?”

eCerbind:

“Ttis a piebald sorrel bronco, with (ae mane and

“tail, al with a triangular piece broken out “of the right

forehoof.”
“Torrent’s,” he said, his -eyes “shining with admiration.

| | Yeu scen Fy itt’ :
~ "No, but I found the horse in the stable back there,

and a man came and took it away, and I overheard him
speak of it as Torrent's. ie

“He war one o’ Torrent’s men, I reckon.”

“T think so.”

“That does ruther pin that murder o’ Colter down
onter Torrent’s gang,” said Adams. “He’d do it, if there
war money in it. And, Buffler, he'll kill you quick as a
eat kin jump, if he gits ther chance! I wanted ter put
you onter that fact, which I see you already knowed.”

“Thank you for the warning,” said the scout. ae
remember it to your credit.”

“And I may shake hands si ye ag’in—with tha
biggest and whitest man of ther West?”

Buffalo Bill seized the outstretched hand, as Adams
rose, and shook it warmly.

“Adams, ” he said, “I’m glad to know yOu; you’ te a
man ina thousand!

“Now, about those desperadoes from the mountains y
he added.

“T-don’t know ’em,’ Adams admitted, ough they
They're drinkin’
and raisin’ ther very old devil. I thought at fust mebbe
they war cowboys, but it don’t look it; and Tm agreein’
with ye that they’re desperadoes.”

- “Report to me, please, if you learn anything about them
worth while. They may have come down here merely for

po a lark; but something {t heard makes me think otherwise. —

And keep away from them, Adams. I think they’re the
kind that would shoot a man and beg his pardon after-

ward.”

Adams stood for a minute by the door fistening, for

the knew he had imperiled himself by coming there, and

then the scout unlocked the door and saw him slip away.

“An honest fellow,’ was his thought, “and an honest
man is worth a good deal in such a den of thieves as
silver. Butte. ae

 

 

NI

BILL, STORIES.

_ CHAPTER V.
THE DUEL IN THE STREET.

Twice before daylight men came to the door of the
scout’s room hammering for admittance.

‘But his sagacity was not misled. Their voices, when
they answered his questions, told of the nature. of their
errand.

- “T don’t think V’ll come out now. I'll be down in the
morning, and if you have anything then to say to
me ie

This statement, to the last cal ller, was cut short by the
crack of a revolver, and the bullet plowed through the
door. The rascal, seeing that he was not to be admitted,
had fired in at the scout, guiding his shot py the sound of
the voice.

But the scout had ducked low after speaking, half
expecting such a thing, and the bullet wh istled harm-
lessly over his head.

At the same instant his own n ready revolver. spoke; and
there was a heavy fall outside. |

He stepped softly aside, with the revolver ready, and
waited; and then heard. the villain cursin 1g heavily and
heard him drag himself away, the action and the coe
together with the heavy fall, showing that the bullet had
found its billet,

There was no further attempt that night to enter the
room of Buffalo Bill, and he retired after a time, falling
asleep as lightly as a cat, ready to waken at the first faint
sound. —

Long years of peril had made him able to do that.

Before the first faint flush of dawn he had left the
room, and was outside, at the stable where his horse had
been taken; when, from that point, he saw a group of
men converging toward the back entrance to the hotel.

They thought their chances of getting him would be
improved with the coming of light.

Pretty soon the scout “observed that other men were
stationed near the front entrance.

He smiled grimly.

“They think they have me Goapele

- The sun came up redly, throwing a shaft of light into
the narrow street.

As it did so, Buffalo Bill threw the stable door open,

and rode forth, sitting easily and erect in the saddle, the
rein lying on the horse’ s neck while he guided the animal
by pressure of his knees, In each hand he held a revolver
ready for action.
- He had discovered that Dick Torrent had rallied his
forces and was prepared to murder him as soon as he
appeared, a discovery which showed that either a bold
battle to the death, or a cowardly flight from the town,
was his only course of action.

He chose the fight, out in the open, with his face to his
foes; and he now rode slowly toward the men grouped
in front of the hotel entrance.

They had believed he was in his room up-stairs, and
they had stood there waiting for his appearance, with
men set at the back door to keep him from getting out
that way.

And there he was, mounted and in the street, and ri-
dine slowly and boldly toward them! ©

The result was almost comical.

_ Instead of making a wild rush at him, more than half
of them ran round behind the house to escape the bullets
they expected him to begin pumping froni his revolvers.

 

122 S

ont aS oasis

 
 

BRASS OS

Fn Nat ae eee RNC ea

FT ES aR RT TET RM Te

 

S oeans Sot a. Ton? eory
" "

8 (| SHE BUFFALD

Some of the men posted at the rear of the house
scampered toward the nearest alley.
Yet three of them stood their ground, near the front
entrance. One of these was Dick Torrent himself, and
the others were his most courageous followers..

Torrent was dressed in'a highly dandified manner that
OHS In the bosom-of his white, frilled shirt blazed

diamond as big as a hazelnut, His revolvers were
Sees with diamonds glistening in their handles.
He more than half expected to die in that encounter with
Buffalo Bill, and he had thus arrayed himself because of
that expectation. He meant to die with “his boots on’
and “‘game to the last.”

A shrill cry, like the yelp of a coyote, came from his
lips now. It was his challenge and his battle-ery.

He moved out into the street, and his two comrades
moved out with him.- As he did so-his revolvers. cracked,
the bullets whistling through the air.

Buffalo Bill’s weapons~ ‘lifted and spoke at. the same

instant, the four reports seeming but two.

One of Torrent’s bullets cut a hole through the crown
of the scout’s hat; the other stung the neck of his horse
slightly, making the beast. jump round and destroying the
aim of his next shot.

Yet one of the two first bullets fired had knocked Tor-
rent from his feet, spinning him round in the middle of
the street, where he fell.

The two rascals who had backed Torrent maintained
their ground and continued their firing; but when Buffalo
Bill brought down one of them with a well-directed shot,
and then, setting spurs to his snorting horse, charged at
a wild gait through the street, the third one ran, diving
like a rabbit out of sight behind the corner of the build-
ing, where the other members of the band at that end of
the hotel had already sought refuge.

et yell, like a war-cry, wild and strange, came from the

lips of the scout, as he made that dash, guiding his horse
straight toward that corner.

Bullets flew from his revolvers; and he ducked low.
on the neck of the horse, swaying his head from side to
side to puzzle and baffle whoever fired at him.

A man tumbled under his shots at the corner of the
building, and the others ran like frightened curs.

They had seen Torrent fall, and two others, and the
scout coming on apparently unharmed, and their courage
gave way.

Buffalo Bill sent.a bullet skipping at their heels, ab
hurry them.

Then he heard a revolver-shot in the street, at the same
time that a bullet came ripping through the sleeve of his
coat.

Torrent was sitting up in the dust of the street, coolly
cocking his revolver for another shot,-as the scout turned.

The scout rode straight toward him, ducking as Tor-
rent fired; and then, when the gambler. fired again, the
scout stooped, and, catching Torrent by a quick jerk from
the ground, he lifted him to the saddle.

Though done with such seeming ease, it was really a
marvelous performance.

_ The friends of Torrent were ae near the sable:
Holding Torrent in front of him as a shield, Buffalo
Bill turned in that direction, putting his horse again at a
gallop, and bore down on the crowd, firing rapidly with
ae hand, and holding Torrent up against “him with the
other.
Torrent’s ficods ce aneded: as before. ©

BILL “STORIES.

Saeco ‘on by them, Buffalo Bill rode on past the 7
Palace Hotel, still bearing Torrent on the saddle in front @

‘of him.

The gambler was wounded, and would have fallen to
the ercuad if the scout had relinquished his hold.

 

CHAPTER VI.
A CALL FOR HELP.

As Buffalo Bill thus rode by the hotel Jennie Colter
came rushing from it, springing down from the piazza.

“Help me!” she screamed.

Her eyes were wild with terror and her hands were
extended toward him.

He drew rein so quickly that the horse was thrown on
its haunches.

“For God’s sake, let me oe !’ said Torrent, squirm-
ing painfully. “I’m dying, I think; let me down!”

He had dropped his’ revolver, and gasped now in an

agonized manner.
The scout did not heed him. Torrent was the mur-

derer, or the leader of the murderers, of this girls —

father !
“Help!” she cried again wildly, running up to the horse.
He saw her glance with terror back toward the hotel,

and there in the door he beheld two men appear. Ae s

shot from his revolver, splintering the door-post, drove
them back.

“Up behind!” he said, extending his foot and reaching
out his hand.

Even in her terror she understood; and placing a foot
lightly on the one the scout extended, with the assistance
of his strong hand she swung her self up and to a seat on
the horse behind him. :

She was scarcely there before the horse was in motion
again.

One of the men fired from the doorway, hitting the at

horse in the hip, making an ugly wound. ‘The only j im-
mediate effect was to cause the horse to give a quick jump
that destroyed the aim of some other men, who began
firing recklessly from behind the hotel; and then the horse
tore on at a mad gallop straight ahead, the street leading
here toward the trail to the mountains.

“Let me down!’ Torrent begged again.

“Now that I have you, I think I'd better keep you,” said
the scout grimly; at the same time twisting round in the
saddle with revolver in hand,

The girl understood the motion.

Revolvers were popping behind them and ‘ie ae
of bullets was like the sounds of locusts in the air.

“Zip—azip ;’ they went, winging their flight high over-
head, for the rascals were firing high Hrouga sheer in-
ability to get the range.

Ducking her head to let the scout shoot over it, the girl

clung to him, and heard the pop, pop! of his deadly te oe

volver.

Some men were getting horses from the stables for a
pursuit, but the bullets from his revolvers tended to
destroy their anxiety to begin it.

With a laugh, the scout turned about and rode on,
the gallant horse leaving the narrow street and plunging
along the narrower trail.

“Tim not teady to let you down yet,” said he speaking
to Torrent, who was again begging to be set down.

_ The gambler’s face was pale, both because of his wound

 

   

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THE BUFFALO

and his alarm at his position. He begged piteously,
claiming that he was bleeding badly from a wound in his
shoulder.

Turning again, when he had ridden on for half-a- mile,
the scout directed the girl to dismount and take the bit of
the horse; and then he lowered himself and’ Torrent to the
ground.

“T’m a pretty good surgeon,” he said, “and though I
guess I gave you that wound I’ll see what I can do for it.”

He tore the ruffled shirt open, and looked at the wound.
The bullet had gone through Torrent’s left shoulder, but
rather high up, not touching the lung. Yet it had perfo-
rated bone, and the wound was enough to put him beyond
the ability to fight for a time. a

“TI can fix you up all right, Torrent,’ said the scout,

“Sf your rascals don’t crowd me again. You had it in for
me this morning, eh?”

“Yes, curse you, I hoped to kill you!
gambler savagely.

“That was rather unkind of you, Torrent!”
“Why did you follow me here?” Torrent. snat led,
grinding his teeth with pain, as the scout worked at the

(??

grunted the

wound, plugging it with linen torn from the shirt.

“T didn’t follow you—didn’t know you were here.”
“That’s a lie! You came into that gambling-house last
night looking for me; and you came to the town looking
for me!”

He cursed again, groaning.

“Tf you can keep from exciting yourself, Torrent, Ul
get along better with this little job, and you'll bleed less.”
The gambler subsided, with sudden pain and faintness.

_ The scout glanced toward the street he had left, and
he on toward the mountains. He did not expect that
his enemies—who were Torrent’s friends—would be’ will-
ing to have the matter settled in this manner.

Having dressed the wounded shoulder as well as he
could, the scout now searched the gambler for weapons,

" for te could not trust him.

A long knife was the only find.

‘Torrent lay back on the grass, glaring and cursing, too
weak to do more.

“Hard looks break no bones, Torrent,” said Buffalo
_ Bill. “And now that I’ve done what I can for you. |
must look out for my horse. He’s wounded even worse
ae you are, I think.”

' The wound in the horse’s hip was rather serious, and
had bled freely, the blood still aS down on the
animal’s leg.

-, “You'll be too stiff to ok in an hour or so, old fel-
a said the scout. “That’s bad for you, and may be
even worse for the young lady and myself.”

There was really nothing he could do for this wound,
for no water was near, and he turned to the girl; while
Torrent, propping his back with a rock, cursed and taved

__ with savage ferocity.

The girl was regaining something of her natural calm-
ness. She had been wildly frightened when she rushed
out of the Palace Hotel.

“Those scoundrels came to your room ?”’ chee Bill
asked now. ‘I wish I could have left you somewhere
else, but that seemed the best and safest place. in the
town.”

“Two of them came oe

she panted, fright showing
in her eyes at that memory.

“They demanded admit-

a a ae po ee ee ication
te a Sie sie ta asec Sines ea ee eC tS

 

BILL STORIES.

f ‘ ed AU,
TRARY TES « ‘ a peainnchas siraineae sR
a a  t

tance; but there was another door, and I got out by that,
and ran down into the office. They followed me, com-
manding me to stop, and saying that pod did not want to
harm me, but merely to speak to me.”

“You saw those two men, Torrent?” said the scout.

“What if I did?’ the gambler snapped.

“You know if they belonged to your crowd, or not?’

They didnt! They belonged to the crowd that came
into town last night.”

“The desperadoes from the mountains !”

“Call ‘em what you like. Every one is a desperado, d
suppose, who doesn't line up. with you.”

The scout knew that the men were not followers of
Dick Torrent, for Torrent had spoken stornfully of
them. He could not doubt this, as Torrent went on:

“We fight square, and we don't trouble women !”

The eyes of the scout blazed.

“But you don’t hesitate to murder the father or the
brother of some woman!”

Torrent looked at him resentfully.

“You mean a mae ago, on a Platte ?
brought you. here.”

“No,” said te scout sharply, “IT mean yesterday.
When you killed Colter, south of here, for his money, and
then burned his house, you slew the father of this girl.”

Jennie Colter’s face blanched. She had not known that
this man was one of the murderers of her father, though
she might have suspected it.

Torrent’s pale face, flushed. '

VLhat's’ a el) he cried.) dont know what es
talking about!’

“You and some of your ne, were out of town yester-
day ?”

Thats what

Some of my
if that’s what you

at haven't any ‘band,’ as you. call it.
itis were out of town, though,
mean.’

“And rode toward the south ?”

“Ves; but that other is a lie!”
_ Yet his voice,
him.

shaking and cowardly HOW, convicted

“Torrent, fate, or the hand of Providence, led me to
that burning cabin yesterday, where I found this young
lady, with her, dead father, who had been murdered by
you and your cutthroats. You ought to be shot to pieces,
or cut to ue for that. It was a cowardly and infa-
mous murder.”

“Bats lehad oe to do with it, I tell ee the
gambler protested wildly,

“T struck your trail, out beyond the cabin, and among
other tracks found that.of your sorrel piebald bronco
with the broken hoof. You rode that horse yesterday,
and after you came back to town you put it in the ‘stable
behind the Palace Hotel.” :

Torrent stared in amazement that was mixed with
terror. It seemed to him that this man must have’ super-

 
  

1O

human powers. He would never be able to forget how
Buffalo Bill had charged the whole band gathered in
the streets to wipe ‘him out that morning, and how he had’
made a prisoner even of the leader of the band and

brought him here wounded, where he was at the scout’s:

mercy. But how the scout had gained that information
was even more astonishing. It was so startling that it
was terrifying, and his eyes showed his feelings.

"So, you see,” the scout went on coolly, “that I know
what I’m talking about. I didn’t come to Silver Butte to
arrest you for that murder on the Platte a year ago, for
I didn’t know you were in the town. You thought so,
though; and last night in the gambling-room you tried to
kill me, Failing then, and being still of the opinion that
I had come for you and would never let up, you and your
whole gang tried to do me this morning, and failed. _

“T came here, following that trail of the broken hoof,
and for the purpose of arresting, or killing, the man who
had murdered this girl’s father. And I found that the

murderer of a year ago was the murderer of yesterday.

ad

And now I have you in my power!
“Curse you!” hissed Torrent, in a spasm of helpless
rage and fury.
“Curses break no bones, Torrent, I think I have told
you,” the scout answered, with a quiet smile. “But if
they amuse you, curse on.”

 

CHAPTER VII.
OLD ROUNDHEAD’S PLANS.

Old Roundhead had come quietly into Silver Butte
during the night, and had met his men, conferring with
those who were not too drunk.

They had been “celebrating” their visit to the place in

their usual wild fashion, and more than half of them were
not fit for anything. They lay out in the stables, and
along the sides of the house, snoring heavily.

But Old Roundhead’s faithful lieutenant was clear-
headed, and he had been able to keep some of the men
sober; and he made his report, stating his belief that Cler-
mont, the Texas rancher, oo his pity daughter were
in town.

In making this report, the lieutenant was careful to
qualify his statements, because of what others said,
though he had no personal ea concerning the
matter.

“He’s given out the news that he’s Buffler Bill,eand I
guess nighabout ther whole town is believin’ it; but
knowin’ his little game, ther thing ain’t fooled us. But he
do look like Buffer!” :

“Did you ever see Buffalo Bill?”

Old Roundhead was a strong,’ square-bodied, bullet-
headed fellow, of some education, though little enough
refinement;
strength aud activity of a man ten years younger.

He

ye i Ee se
dept ee harem et OR i cae ath on end Sl eM hpi ra Sapa a Rv

ce THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

in age about forty, and with the muscular

Hye oc earthed

 

was dressed in ranchman’s gatb, and usually when inthe
towns represented himself as a ranchman from some
distant section; and called his followers his “cowboys.”

-“T never did, but I’ve heard how he looks,” said the

lieutenant; “and if all reports don’t lie this feller is purty

much like him.
think he’s Buffler, and then later git the laugh on ’em, I
reckon.”

“TTe’s a fat-headed fool,” said Roundhead senten-
tiously.

“T allow he is, myself.”

“He knows that he looks like Buffalo Bill, or some one
has told him that he does, and so he dresses like him,
and goes round callin’ himself “The Buttalo Bill of the
Saithwest.” .

“And bluffin’ a lot o’ folks inter thinkin’ that he i is!”

PY 6S.”

“Waal, he’s got the ce with him—his darter.
in the Palace Hotel ter-night.”

“Stir up the boys,’ was Roundhead’s
“Those that are too drunk douse with water. Drown ’em,
if you have to, but bring’ em round. And be ready for
business about daylight.” S

The lieutenant walked away;

‘She's

led toward the mountains, in order to see that the way
was clear.
He had a well- defined plan, which he had been matur-

ing for a month, or ever since news had come to him that ~

It’s his game, 0’ course, ter make fellers

eae
contvand..

and Old Roundhead ;
slipped on through the town, and on out to the trail that

 
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Clermont, the Texas ranchman, intended to visit Silver

Butte with his daughter.

girl was decided on.

 

 

 

That plan at first called for the capture of Clermont
himself.

Later, this had been ones, and the abduction of fhe a

Old Roundhead reasoned that, in-
asmuch as Clermont was almost fabulously wealthy, he

would be willing to pay a big sum for the restoration of —
his daughter; and, therefore, she was to be captured and
carried away to the stronghold in the hills, and held there —

until Clermont came down with the sum demanded.

This plan included, naturally, the proper treatment of :

the girl. They merely meant to hold her for ransom, and
surrender her when the ransom was paid.

The scheme was simplicity itself; and there seemed

no doubt that it could be successfully worked, now that —

Clermont and his daughter were ue to be within
reach,

the statement that the man was Buffalo Bill of little con-

The fact that Clermont was expected in the town made

sequence to Old Roundhead, as he had long known that

Clermont was posing as the great scout.

Roundhead’s lieutenant had some trying times in ‘get
ting his men into condition, but he was resourceful, and ~
long before day all of them were wide-awake and ready.

 

for “anything desperate that Old Roundhead ordered.

SS a AOR IO ace eet ea eee ete

 

 

 

 

       
  

 
   

 

 

 

 
     

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
  

  
 
 
   
   
  

  

scout ordered.

 

   
  

  

 

Bet tac sacar

Just before daylight some of them had gone to the
stable where their horses had been kept, while Round-
head had posted himself in the office of the hotel, and
the lieutenant and another had gone up to the girl’s room.

She had ‘not slept well, because of the terrors of her
surroundings and grief for her father, and was up and
fully dressed when the men came to the door; and the
reader has seen that she evaded them, and, passing
Old Roundhead, gained the street, where she secured
the help of Buffalo Bill.

But even after that wild street duel and the escape of
Buffalo Bill and the girl, with the carrying away of the

leader of the men who had sought the life of the scout, .

Old Roundhead and his followers still clung to their belief

that the man was Clermont, the ranchman; and, as he had,

ridden out of the town by the mountain trail, there was
quick saddling, for they meant to head him off there and
carry the girl away.

They knew the trails leading to the mountains, and
"were sure that neither he nor the girl could escape.

Having stopped to attend to the wound of his prisoner,
Buffalo Bill watched the trail over which he had come, for
he anticipated pursuit, and he pondered the question of

Peat he should do with Dick Torrent.

‘He saw horsemen appear in the trail.

“Those are your men,” he said to Torrent, “and no

ave doubt they're feeling ugly; but my advice to you is to
| — order them back,”

“They'll probably charge you,” said Torrent bitterly,

and with a gleam of malice.

“It might be very unhealthy for you!’

“Think so? More so for you, I guess.’ %
“If they crowd me, Torrent, I shall simply make a
finish of you!’

The look of fear that came into Torrent’s face showed

that the threat was not without its effect.

 

“Stand on your feet and give them some signal,” the
“Here, Ul help you.”

 

Torrent looked at him steadily. The horsemen who

‘had appeared in the trail near the town were coming on.
Buffalo Bill had renewed the cartridges in his revolver,
had seen that his rifle was in good working condition, and
‘seemed ready to make a stand there.

And Torrent

 

   
  
 
   

  
  
 

  

 
 
  

  

“Try this handkerchief,” he said. “You'll find it in my

pocket here.”

Buffalo Bill felt in the pocket and drew out a bright
ow handkerchief that had in its center a red square.
“They'll understand that,’ said Torrent. “If you'll
o toward them, waving that, they'll treat you decent.”
Buffalo Bill put the handkerchief in his own pocket, but

 

   
   
     

 

 

semed in no hurry to carry out Torrent’s instructions.

sa

a EN gO ir RE

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

 

Yet he realized his exceedingly difficult situation.
With Torrent wounded and helpless, and his horse weak-
ened and bleeding from that shot in the hip, the chances
of getting safely out of the country with the prisoner and
the girl were slim.

With his rifle held ready he watched those horsemen _
come slowly up the trail.

When still well beyond range they stopped, huddling
together as if for consultation. Then one of them rode
forth alone, carrying a white handkerchief on the end of »
a rifle. :

When the man had come half the distance and there
stopped, the scout mounted his horse, which was already
beginning to show stiffness, and rode out to meet him,
bearing aloft the yellow handkerchief taken from Tor-
rent’s pocket.

But before doing so he had placed in the hands of the
girl a revolver, telling her to defend herself with it in
case of need, and to shoot Torrent without hesitation if
his followers showed treachery.

What was apparently treachery came before the scout
was half-way to the waiting horsemen.

A shot from the revolver in the hand of the girl reached
him; and, turning in his saddle, he saw a half-dozen men
dashine down on her from a near-by hill.

Buffalo Bill wheeled with a cry of rage and rode back
as fast as he could drive his crippled horse; but before he
could reach the point where the girl stood, the men had
surrounded her; and, catching her up in their midst, they
galloped wildly toward the hills.

The sarcastic laughter of the gambler reached he scout
as he galloped past in furious, though futile, pursuit.
That laugh, indicating, as it seemed, treachery, caused the
scout, to lift his revolver. But he let the weapon fall, =
refusing to shoot at even a wounded man, and rode on
past the laughing gambler.

The whole scene had shifted in an instant; for the men
in the trail that led toward the town were riding forward
now, joining the single horseman the scout had ridden to
meet; while those who had captured the girl were racing
for the hills, with the scout galloping after them.

Torrent lifted himself weakly, tried to stand erect,
waved his hand joyfully to his followers from the town;
and then, whirling round, fell, collapsing in the trail.

A little later they were surrounding him.

CHAPTER VIII.
THE MESSAGE.

Buffalo Bill had lost his prisoner.
taking him back to Silver Butte.

The scout still supposed that the other men were also
members of Torrent’s gang and that they had captured
the girl merely to draw him away from Torrent.

Torrent’s men were

 

 

em tah et eta oat EAL pat Pectin oet:
 

He discovered his error a little later on.

A rifle roared in the hills, aimed so true that it struck
the horse, pitching the faithful beast to its knees.

The scout sprang from the saddle as the horse went
down.

Then an arrow flirted in a high parabola, and fell near
him; and as it struck, quivering upright in the ground,
the scout saw that the shaft was wrapped round with
white paper.

The outlaws who had the girl had disappeared.

Seeing that his faithful horse was wounded beyond
all hope of recovery, the scout promptly sent a bullet
through its head. He was now on foot, alone, and ap-
parently all his plans had miscarried. A look of pain was
in his face, for it had hurt him sorely to slay the steed
that had borne him so many miles over so many trails.

He removed the saddle and bridle, and carrying them
on his arm, while he still glanced round suspiciously, not
knowing how near enemies might be, he stepped over to
where the arrow had fallen.

Pulling it from the ground, he tore away the letter
tied round the shaft.

Its contents were surprising:

“Mr. JAcK CLERMONT.

“Dear Sir: We have captured your daughter, and
intend to hold her for ransom. Rest assured that if the
money is paid promptly no harm will come to her. But
the money must be paid. You are a wealthy man, one

of the biggest cattlemen and land-holders in the State of
_ Texas. Knowing this, we demand the sum of fifty thou-
sand dollars for the return of your daughter. To prove
to you that we mean business and are able to carry out
our end of this deal, let me say that I have half a hun-
dred good men under me, and that we will never sur-
render the girl until the money is paid; and that if you
send troops or officers after us we will fight them to the
last, and in the event that we are defeated by them we
will simply end the matter by shooting the girl. We
mean business. You may have heard of me.: If not,
ask any one who-is familiar with the mountains here
and the history of the road for the past five years.. You
can get all the information you want. You have come
into Silver Butte posing as Buffalo Bill, as you have
made a fool habit of doing in many places. We merely
state this to show that we know you, and all about you.
Place the fifty thousand in the little cave at the falls of
the Porcupine, in the box you will find buried there at
the right of the entrance. You can’t miss it. We'll get
the money, and if you act square by us we'll then send
the girl in to Silver Butte, or to any other near-by point
you may name, under escort. And she shall not be
harmed in the least. Fail to do this, and her blood will
be on your own head. Yours for business,

“Ortp RouNDHEAD.”

ea

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

aa tO DIO OTA Pe ERT an

      

Buffalo Bill read this with a sense of dizzying amaze-
ment.

While it amazed him, it at the same time oieed the

situation.
He knew now that the men who had ridden out of

the hills were not members of Torrent’s gang, but were |

Old Roundhead’s men, the desperadoes whose entrance
into the town he had known about.

He had heard that there was a ranchman in Texas
who imitated him in many things, and was called often
“the Buffalo Bill of the Southwest.”

He did not know that this ranchman had been in
Silver Butte, or was expected there, yet that such was
the fact his communication made clear. And they had
captured Jennie Colter, under the belief that she was

the ranchman’s daughter, and were riding away with

her. - :

The thing would have been a subject for laughter but
for the fears it evoked for the girl.
herself under the care of the scout!

“T'll have to drop this Torrent matter right here for
the present,” he said to himself, “and go aiter the girl.”

Yet Buffalo Bill was not thinking of going with troop-.

ers, or a posse, but alone.

He smiled grimly, as he remarked:

“They have waked up the wrong passenger!’

Though at the moment he seemed helpless, on foot
and with his horse dead, his manner was never more
determined; and if Old Roundhead’s men had but known
that they had really “waked up the wrong passenger”

they would not have laughed so lightly as they ie .

him reading that message.
When no one appeared, Buffalo Bill climbed the near-
est small hill.

It gave him a view into the town.

scended from the range of hills to the south.
“Nick Nomad?!’ he said, as he brought his eee to
bear on this man.

Depositing the saddle and bridle in a clump of sage-

brush, he ran rapidly across the divide and then clam-- .

bered hurriedly down.
Nick Nomad’s eyes were fixed on the town, and he

did not observe the scout until the latter had come al-

most within hailing distance, when he drew in his un-

gainly steed. :

_ Buffalo Bill scrambled up the slope to meet him.
“Buffler, by all ther gods of war!” cried the old

trapper, stooping from his horse and extending his

gnarled hand. “I warn’t thinkin’of seein’ you hyar, but
the*sight o’ ye is jes’ as welcome as bees an’ flowers in
summer !”

“And I’m more than glad to see you!” ee Bill
declared.

hn a ot gta esate rt eaten ti eProps

 

cattery 5

 

  

 

 

 

9 ALLAN te ts ches ence

She had placed__.

| He also saw a
mounted man, who was threading a narrow trail that de-

 

  

Tiss EEN

  
  

 
   
  
  

 
  
 

    

   

    
   
   
   
 
 
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  

     

 

 

 
   
 

 

 

  

» He wrung the hand of his old friend and pard.

“’Most as glad to see me as if you’d stepped on the
tail of a rattler, eh? Buffler, you’ve got the grip of a
bar!’ ® 2

He drew his hand away, eyed it silently, and then
slowly pulled the fingers apart, as if to be sure that none
~was broken. :

Having done this, he was about to swing out of the
saddle.

“Whither bound?” the scout asked.

“Tnto the town, Buffler.”

“You’re just the man I want to see; not only because
I’m always glad to see you, but because you can do me
a favor. And it must be done quickly—at once.”

“Name it.”

. Buffalo Bill hastily unraveled his singular story.
The twinkling eyes of the little old trapper snapped

and glowed like coals of fire, as he began to understand |
the situation.

“An oncommon funny predicerment fer them fellers
to be in,” he said. “I reckon thet Old Roundhead will
be kickin’ hisself into pieces, when he understands what
a. fool he’s made of hisself and his men, yit it does put

~~ ‘the gal in a bad sitivation; and, Buffer, I’m ready ter

{??

help ye!

“You’re always ready to help me,” said the scout. “I
could have asked for no one who would do: more to
assist me than yourself.” Ai

“Buffler, I ginerally tries ter make good. Jes’ shoot
out ther fust order, and’ see me amble ter perform it.”

“But you have business of your own?”

“Nothin’ wuth talkin’ *bout. I war jes’ goin’ down
inter the town. ’Cause [ war a bit tired of the lonesome-
ness of the hills, but I ain’t reely keerin’ fer the town.
I’d a good deal ruther be in ther hills, if thar’s suthin’
wuth doin’ thar; and I reckon there’s a heap plenty

39

now. |
“The first thing is that I need a horse, and a good
one. ‘Then we'll see what’s to be done.”

The old trapper drove his heels into the sides of the
ancient beast he was riding.

“Jes; so, he said; “and IU sit ye one!”

_ "And, Nick, find out anything you can, and come
straight back to the trail over there, and bring me a
good revolver. Here’s money for them.’

He waved his hand, to show what trail he meant, and
placed the money in the trapper’s hand.

_ With that touch of the heels of its owner, the horse
had lifted its shaggy head,

It was an ungainly beast, with seemingly very. little
life in it; but when its head came up in that way it ap-
peared to.shed the years from its bony frame and become
young again, while a certain fire flashed in its eyes and
it began to champ at the bit.

THE BUPPALO BILL STORIES.

~ scat!

RCS aoe ae eNO eMC en See

erect moan

Se

 

   

The old trapper stroked its rough, shaggy neck, speak-
ing kindly.

“Nebuchadnezzar,
2?

you hears them orders? Then

The old horse moved as if a sharp needle had been

plunged into it, or an electric wire had discharged its

current beneath its skin.

The head went higher, and then, with a leap, it shot
down the trail and away toward the town, with the queer
old trapper bounding and crouching, stoop-shouldered,
in the big saddle.

There was a hopeful light on the face of Buffalo Bill,
as he climbed to the point where he had left his saddle
and bridle.

“A pard in a thousand!” he said, in a tone of satis-
faction. “Yes; I’m thinkin’ that Old Roundhead will
discover before very long that he waked up the wrong
passenger !’

 

CHAPTER IX:
TENNIE S BREDICAMENT,

Jennie Colter did not at all understand the situation
when those wild horsemen swooped down upon her. .

She fired the revolver, as Buffalo Bill had commanded
her to do; and then Old Roundhead’s men were about
her, filling her with fear; and before she knew what to
expect she was lifted from the ground, and they were
riding away with her. -

She heard the cackling, sarcastic laugh of Dick Tor-

trent, whom thése mén had not attempted to injure or

help.

And then she was borne away and on into the hills.

“We ain't goin’ ter hurt ye, lady,” one of them said,
to reassure her.

“Then why have you done this?” she demanded, trem-
bling.

“We'll explain that later,”
Roundhead.

She looked at him ae
dressed and the best-looking.

“Please release me!” she begged tearfully.

“Couldn’t think of it, miss!” he answered.

“But you have no reason to hold me!’

“We think we have, miss!”

They had placed her on a horse, and she saw now
that she was sitting in her own saddle, which they had
taken from the stable and brought out there for her.
Naturally, she connected them. with the men whom Buf-
falo Bill had fought in the street of the town.

Again she begged them to release her.

When they had gone beyond the divide they stopped,
and two or three of them rode with their captain to the
top of the rise and looked down to the place where Buf-
falo Bill had been left.

said the one called Old

He was by far the best-

  

  
 

soucrtisppaiePeagta SALT por
   
 

PRRs ei

PR cea

14 THE BUFFALO

From this point was fired the rifle-shot that killed the :

scout’s horse, and the arrow that bore the message.

When they saw that he had seen the message, and was
reading it, they descended from the rise, and then the
whole party rode on into the hills at a rapid gallop.

Nothing but the fact that for many years she had been
inured to the excitements and the hard life of the wild
border enabled this girl to maintain even a semblance of
courage now. Yet she feared these men with a shrink-
ing, trembling fear, and almost a feeling of despair
clutched at her heart as she was thus borne away.
Again she tried to move the compassion of Old Round-
head.

“Tf you have a daughter of your own, think of what

such a thing would mean to her!” she said, as soon as.
a slower pace made it possible for her to talk at all. -

“Tf you haven’t a daughter, you may have a sister, and
you have had a mother. I appeal to you in the name
of your mother to release me and let me go back to that
town !” ;

“When the time comes,” said Old Roundhead, look-
ing at her not unkindly, for that reference to his mother
had touched him.

His mother had been dead many years, but he re-
membered her. No man ever forgets his mother, and
thought of her always has power to soften him.

“But you can’t gain anything by carrying me away!”
she urged.

“We think we can, miss; we think we can gain a good
deal. Jist remember that we don’t intend to hurt you,
and take it easy. It’s the money we're after.”

‘But I haven’t any money now, and none of my friends
has any, since our home was robbed and my father
killed.”

He stared at her, and then broke into a laugh, which
those near him joined.

‘Tt runs in the family, | reckon!’ he observed.

She was puzzled.

“I don’t think I understand you!”

“Play-actin’, | mean. Play-actin’ shore runs in your
family !’

“Tm sure I don’t understand you!”

He laughed again, for this seemed a joke.

“You ain’t tryin’ to understand hard, I guess. Your
old dad is one of the worst fellers for play-actin’ there
is in the country.’

The distress on her face and its puzzled expression
was not lessened by the roar of laughter which greeted
this sally.

“Now I know that I do not understand you!” she
urged.

The face of her murdered father had never for a
moment been out of her mind, and it seemed cruel for

these rough men to jest about him, as they seemed to
be doing.

enn etn ne Sisal sericea gs Scale re Lie, mp nto trtninksahtee Ldite nwigs maiatn as
Cnn oc
a ah im then a ye =

 
 
 

 
   
  

Bill STORIES:

“That’s all right, then,” said Old Roundhead. “If
you ain’t play-actin’ you're crazy, and we're bound to be
good to crazy people.”

Again they rode on, seeking a rough and wild trail that.

led toward the very heart of the mountains.

Farther and farther she was being borne away; and
this again roused her to an effort to secure her release,
even though before making it she felt that the effort was
doomed to failure. She begged Old Roundhead once
more to set her down there in the mountains and leave
Her, :

“P’l] make the effort to find my way back, even on
foot,” she said, with tremulous lips. “Please—please

don’t take me farther! You have seemed kind and have
spoken kindly. Please—please don’t take me farther 7

Old Roundhead showed a trace of irritation. He did
not like a “cry-baby” woman.

“When the old man comes down with the money we'll
let you go!” he said, briefly and sternly. ;

She stared at him.

‘My father is dead, I have told you!”

“This is enough of that!’ he grunted unamiably.
“Vou go on with us! We'll treat you right, but we re

going to hold you until your dad comes down with the

dust. We've told him where to put it; and when he
puts it there, then you can go.”
“TL have no father, and I have no money!” she wailed.
“Cut it out!’ he commanded, ‘“‘What’s the use of
singin’ that song all day?’
“It’s the truth! Please let me go!”
“Not till we git the money !”’

Then they rode on again, even though her tears fell :

and she begged piteously to be released.

 

CHAPTER X,
ON THEO TRATL.

Buffalo Bill was in the trail above the town when old
Nick Nomad appeared; and he saw, as soon as the latter
emerged from ‘the street into the trail, that he led a

horse, so fine and spirited that it threw Nebuchadnezzar

sadly into the shade.

The scout hurried to meet him, carrying the bridle
and saddle.

“Best I could do,” said the old trapper, with a grin;
“though that style of a beast never suited me!’

“Tt’s just the animal I want,” declared the scout; “and
I owe you a thousand thanks!’

“Pay ’em off next year,’ grunted Nomad. “Hyar’s
yer revolver.
the Hoss)

The scout surveyed the handsome weapon with pride
and pleasure.

“You ought ta have this, or one like it, for yourself.”

sp i pen ernie tn hei cas

I nigh-about paid as much fer it as for

 

 

os Ne est OOM eet

 
 

 

 

~ an’ ther best.

gun,”
| hoss and thet gun is shore cert’in ter charge as much as.

“were deeper, even, than his words.

HE BUEFALO. DIEG

“Wouldn’t be no use ter me,” Nomad avowed. “What
I can’t git with this hyar ole b’ar rifle I lets go. . And
samme way with hosses. The kind that suits
suit me. I has ter have a hoss that kin live on wind and
water a week at a stretch, and endurin’ of that time
‘travel day and night. Thar ain’t many kin do it, ’cept
old Nebuchadnezzar. Hain’t seen nothin’ o’ the abducti-
cators, have ye?”

He bit into a plug of black tobacco as he asked the

question,

“I feels like livin’ ag’in,’ he remarked, when he be-
gan to masticate the weed. ‘Plenty terbacker fer my
jaws an’ fer my pipe and ammynition enough ter last
my gun a y’ar. Now, pint the way you want ter go,
and I’m wi® yer.” ;

He thrust a hand into his pocket and brought out a
few dollars and some pennies. He had, indeed, -paid
high for the horse and the rifle, for the scout had sup-
plied him generously. nS
~ “Whenever it’s seen that a feller wants a hoss, er a
said old Nick sagely, ‘the feller that owns thet

_ther yearth is wuth fer °em. But you had ter have ‘em,
Sorry I couldn’t bring more money back.”

“Tf you had paid twice as much, Nick, you couldn't
have done better.”

The scout was not wasting time in talk, but was put-
ting the trappings on the horse. He had expressed his
gratitude, and the trapper understood that his thanks
Talk was not needed

between these two old friends and pards. They had

“met every kind of danger together, and each knew the

heart of the other thoroughly.

“Them outlaws will shore think they’ve bit off more’n

they kin chaw,’” said Nick, as he and the scout now rode
together up the trail, and to emphasize the statement
he bit another big chew out of the tobacco plug.

Yet there was nothing of boasting in the words.

Buffalo Bill had given expression to a similar thought
in saying that they had
ger.” ae Se 2
They struck the trail of the mountain desperadoes just
over the divide and followed it cautiously for awhile.

“They don’t seem ter act as if they expected ter be
follered,”” Nick observed, as he scanned the {fail ive
been: thinkin’ thet some on ‘em mene be layin’ fer us,
but I don’t yit see any signs of it.”

In fact, the outlaws had hurried straight on.

They did not believe that the “Texas ranchman,”
whom they thought Buffalo Bill to be, would dare an
immediate pursuit, and they were rather of the opinion
that after he had taken time to think it over and consult
the people of the town he would conclude to pay the

 

i money demanded, rather than risk the life of ins daugh-

ass eiac pees aon nas il mera ais mi Ang ea

you. don’t:

“waked up the wrong passen-~

ee ae

 

STORIES. 15,
They did not-dream that they had the real Buffalo
Bill on their track, aided: by one of the: most: famous
mountain men of: the Die in oe ‘person of old: Bee
Nomad. oe

“Buffler,” said Nide, ; as aha rode on, wate the
trail and the country in front, and taking every pre-
caution they could think of against surprise and treach-
ery, ‘does you believe that 4 hoss kin count?”

“T had never thought so.’

“Well, mebbe Nebby ain't a ete which I
means mebbe he’s more an’ higher than any common
hoss. But this hyar ole beast kin count jes’ like a

human.” ; ae

He cackled out a pleased laugh.

~ Jes’ watch ‘im now. He's follerin’ this trail, same
as we air, and he knows what he’s doin’, jes’ ther same
as a trained sheep-dog knows.what he’s doin’ when he’ s
drivin’ in sheep. An’? he knows, too, jes’ how many hosses
we're follerin’. Thar’s twenty hosses in that crowd, as
you and me know frum countin’ of the hoof-marks. Old
Nebby has counted ’em, an’ he knows it, too.”

23

“Sinoular, if so,” said the scout, smiling at the queer
statements and beliefs of his old friend.

“You don’t believe it?” :

“T haven't had it proved to me.’

“Now, I proves it to you. And you'll notice, too, that

while we're talkin’ about it this ole hoss has got one

year cocked back ter hear what we’re sayin’. He kin
understand English, and Piute, and Sioux, and Chey-
enne, and Pawnee, and about as many other langwidges .
as I kin, myself. But about this hyar trail. Now, looky
thar!”

What he called attention to was a single series of.

hoefmarks, which left the trail and moved along at one
side in the sand.

Nebuchadnezzar stopped when he beheld thom and
seemed to be looking at them. —

“Thar—see that!’

~“Ffe noticed that those hooters leave the Bee
Vil admit.”

“Well, that’s countin’, ain’t it? He counted ‘one’ as,
didn’t he? He seen that one trail left t’oth ers. You il
see even more than that.’

“You didn't pull up a little on the rein when you came
to that?” asked the scout, smiling.

“Nary, Buffler; I didn’t have ter! He’s that knowin’
fer a hoss that sometimes I’m. ’most afeared ter think;
fer it’s kinder a ter have a beast under ye
that knows all'that you’re thinkin’ about, and all 7
you're sayin’, and——-”

“He’s a mind-reader, too, eh?”

“Buffer, I believes it; I shore believes it! T reck’lect

one time I was settin’ on him, on a high ridge, and
wonderin’ which way ter head him ter find water and

 

Se

 
 

THE BUFFALO

I didn’t even say ter him, “Nebby, find water an’
grass!’ I didn’t say anything, and my. hands warn’t on
the reins. But this hyar saygacious creeter knowed what
1 war thinkin’ about, and he forthwith shot his long
years forrud and waltzed away down the slope, and in-
side halfi-an-hour he had his nose in water to his eyes,
and then begun.ter throw ther rich grass inter his achin’
stummick in a manner ter behold. Warn’t. that mind-
readin’? Didn’t he know I war wonderin’ whar we
could find grass and water?”

“T think it was nose-reading. He smelt the water and
the grass, and he was hungry and thirsty.”

“Yer can’t make me believe it, Buffler! [ ‘might ef I
hadn’t seen so many other curious things done by this
beast. He’s as knowin’ as a fox, as sly as a weasel, and
as clever at trailin’ as any Injun that ever crawled
through high grass on his belly. Your hoss suits you,
mebbe; but I wouldn’t give old Nebby hyar fer all the
hosses like that you. could skeer “twixt hyar an’ sun-
down,”

“Tm ready to agree with you that Nepieedacser is
a wonderful horse.”

grass.

The old-trapper grinned with delight at this praise.

“You've knowed him of old, Buffler, and that’s why
you say it. I ain’t fergittin’ ther fust time he ever seen
you.’ ,

“Nor 12”

“Waal, now, did you notice the difference in the way
he treated you ter-day? That was because he reck’lected
ye. He knowed who you was, soon’s he‘ seen ye, ther
same that I did. The tother time he wouldn’t let you
come nigh him. Heels and head war up; you reck’lect,
and he war ready ter kick you inter the middle of next
week, if you'd tried ter lay hands on him.”

“True enough; I recollect that very well.”

“T have ter keep him trained that away, ye see, in a
hoss-stealin’ country like this.
him years ago. I’ve teached ‘im that. So, whenever
any stranger comes near Nebby, somebody he don’t
know, the sensible old creetur’ jes’ keeps his eye on him,
and if ther said stranger tries ter make free with ’im,
then Nebby begins immejitly ter kick the stuffin’ out of
him. Why, this ole hoss has kilt three Injuns and two
white hoss thieves, ter my knowin’, who tried ter be
funny and steal him.”

Apparently, old Nick had Fong otteu the ces of the
way, as he thus rhapsodied about the rack of bones that
carried him, yet he saw everything and heard every-
thing along that wild trail. Not a bird flirted a wing
but he saw it: Not so much as a grasshopper skipped
across the path without his notice. He observed the
hawk sailing in the sky, the wolf skulking on the high
ridge, heard the whirr of the wings of the mountain
partridge, the purl of the tumbling brook; and, with
hand on rifle that lay across the horse in front of him,

BIEL S:

Ti 1 Badn't, Vd ‘a’ lost-

TORIES.

he was ready for a shot at any enemy that might ap-

pear.
Buffalo Bill ney this, and though his own vigilance

‘did not relax it really gave him a pleasanter feeling of

safety to have this keen-eyed old trapper oi company

on this dangerous way.
The desperadoes of the hills rode so fast, antl the i ne-
cessity of proper precaution, to keeping from falling into

traps, so necessarily delayed the scout and the trapper _
that when night came down they were really farther

from Old Roundhead’s men than when the pursuit began.
But they had expected that, and it did not disturb

them. They had anticipated a long and a hard trail.
They drew rein only for a short time, as the sun sank

below the tops of the hills and the shadows of night

began to gather; and in that brief time they prepared
a little something to eat, and gave the horses a ane
to graze and to drink from the stream.

Buffalo Bill and his companion believed now that the
knew the rendezvous toward which Old Roundhead
men were heading, and so, with darkness about them,
as they set forth again, they did not try to follow the:
trail closely, as they had done during the daylight hours, |.
but set out by as short a cut as they knew of toward that —
rendezvous.

Old Roundhead had’ gone into camp some miles be-
yond, with guards out and fires concealed, and prepara-

tions made to resist an attack, though he did not antici-

pate one.
The girl again had renewed her pleadings, even. though’
she felt that they were now useless.

The pursuit she had hoped the scout would begin |

appeared not to have been commenced, and let heart”
was filled with despair.

“I don’t see why you aren’t willing to believe that ee

father is dead!” she urged, addressing Old Roundhead,
He sat by the fire with her, while some of his men
waited on them, all of the men respectful to the chief
and the captive.

“I don’t know how you’re to expect me to believe:
that, when we all saw you with him ee in the trail, e!
was his unexpected answer.

She stared in her amazement.

“Oh!” she said, with sudden comprehension:
mean Buffalo Bill?”

He smiled: -

“Call him that, if you like.”

“But that’s who he was. That wasn’t my father.”

“Where was your father, then?’

“Dead! I’ve told you about that time and again. My
father was murdered in his cabin, and that man was 20

Buffalo Bill.”

“You're all right for a play-actress,”
her as if he wondered if this were “play-acting,” or a
case of insanity.

 

 

 

he said, eying |

‘
nim zs

‘ z
eae ee

 
 

THE BUPEALO

CHAPTER Xi.
IN THE OUTLAWS’ STRONGHOLD.

Buffalo Bill and old Nick were in position in a screen
of mountain aspens that. fringed a high slope over a
narrow cafionlike entrance to a rock- ringed valley long
before daylight broke. —

Their horses were hidden | in Saino. aspen screen
a erie down, yet at a point ‘which could be seen from
_ that high perch. oe a :

_ Though hidden themselves, they were like oe: in a
_high aerie, with the world of hills and valleys spread out
beneath them. |

They had kindled a small fire in a “hollow came diately

mm their arrival, where they had cooked a few things,

and then had stamped out the fire. No smoke rose from
‘its dead embers as the sun rose on the scene.

Suddenly the scout touched the arm of. his old moun-
ain comrade.

aS re in the right place, and in time!” * he said, in a

ie Dna down into the dry bed of a stream some
istance away and far below them, and old Nick, follow-
ng the direction of his pointing finger, beheld some

horsemen ride out from behind the rocky wall there and
ome on at a swinging trot.

Old Roundhead and his men were hurrying to herr
ir’in the hills, and they had in their midst the girl
hey believed to be the ranchman’s daughter.

“We mout ’a’ laid fer ‘em thar,’ said old Nick te-
retfully, as he took a chew of tobacco to assist his see-
ng powers. ‘“‘Thar’d ’a’ ben a fight, but we could ¢
nade things lively fer ther devils!”

“And might have brought about the death of the Girl, e
aid the scout. “That was what I was afraid of, you

“Thar would ’a’ been that danger, I-admits!”’

They watched the cavalcade as it trotted into the cafion
elow them and on through into the valley which con-
tuted this mountain lair of these human wild beasts.
Within that valley were wood, grass, and water, and
yne rough log houses, all hidden away so cleverly that
7¢ Outlaws believed the lea ‘was wholly. unknown to

iders.
Id Nick had discovered it, Ponce) long before, in
mountain wanderings.

Yet the outlaws did not trust solely. to their belief
Jat the place was unknown, but stationed guards in the
issage and on the tall cliffs By a entrance as soon as
he party had entered.

A few men came hurrying forward to meet them.
Most of these were servants, rather than fighters, and
ney took charge of the horses now.
One of them, a drunken, blear-eyed wretch, who had

Epa ANMRRCLELAT aT Ty Tot

Bet SLORIES. 17

been a saloon bum, transported to this place by the gang

after he had shot and killed a Ploswk oe, and was

about te be hung for it by a mob, took the horses rid-

den by the chief and the girl. His red-rimmed, shitty
eyes stared at the girl, oS ae was so a

nounced.

“A wite for the ened! I was his” s though. “Well, she’s
purty enough.” ae

The: chiet: led» the. ie toad One Of. ne cabins,

though she hung back, trembling.

‘Don’t be a fool!”” he snapped. “You're safe here,
ie coy you.
you.’

‘From his high perch in the aspens Buffalo Bill watched
this with his powerful glass, and he saw the girl led
to that cabin, into which she was thrust ae Old Round-
head. ee
Nick took the glass now and then, and with his keen
old eyes searched the valley from end to end, studying
the outlaws and their stronghold.

“Buffler, I’m figgerin’ that it’d take more’n a rigiment
of fightin’ men ter drag them wolves out o’ their den.”

“It would,” the scout admitted. “There aren't many
such strongholds, even in these mountains.”

‘It’s your dad’s ae) we want, not

“Tt ain’t goin’ ter be no easy job gittin’ in thar, But-
fler 17

“We're going in, though!”

“Yas, were goin. in. : on’y said it warn t goin’ ter
be easy.” te
Jennie Colter had not been long alone in the cabin
when Old Roundhead appeared again, bearing this time

a smoking breakfast for her.

“You see, we mean to treat you right,” he said, as he
placed it before her on the rough table. “We'll, not
abuse you, and we'll not starve you. When we deliver
you back into the hands of your dad we want him to feel
that though we held him up for a pretty good wad of
money we acted square otherwise.” :

What singular ideas of honor this fellow had!

A certain admiring glance of his eyes made her shiver.
Old Roundhead was beginning to feel that if this girl’s
father did not comply with that demand for money -he
would not be wholly displeased; for then he would feel
privileged to take the girl herself, and her beauty was

beginning to be very alluring to him.

She did not touch the food a béfore her, but
looked at him earnestly again.

_ “Will you not believe me when I tell you that you
have made a great mistake? [ am not the to of
any Texas ranchman!”

“T don’t know as [I’m carin’ now -Shetier you are or
not,’ he confessed, with sudden insolence that made her
cheeks burn, and her heart fluttered with renewed fright.

“I am not,” she insisted, trying to be bold in spite of

 
THE BUFFALO BILL

the dreadful peril of her situation. “You made a great
mistake. That man with me was, truly, Buffalo Bill, the
famous scout. He came by our place when it was burn-
ing, having been drawn there by the smoke, and there he
found me with my dead father. He was kind to me, and
under his protection I came on to Silver Butte.”

He looked at her with eyes that questioned intently.

“You still stick to that?”

“How can I do anything else, when it is true?”

The saloon bum, who acted as the captain’s servant,
caine in, bringing more food, and ages stared at the
girl's beauty.

Old Roundhead turned to him.

a you ever hear of Buffalo Bill feng in Silver
Butte?

“Eh aever did.”

“No one ever did, a eddes Old Roundhess “He ‘has
steered clear of this section. I don’t think he believes
it’s healthy for his kind up here.”

He ended with a sneer,

The bum went out.

“But look here,” he said to the girl, “even if that fel-
low was Buffalo Bill, instead of your father, makin’ a.
bluff, it won’t do you-any good.”

Her manner became appealing again.

“T hoped that maybe if you understood, the mistake,
and knew that there was no money to be paid for my re-
lease, you’d let me go!”

The look of insolent admiration swept his face once
more.

“Miss,” he said coarsely,
me to do that!”

She sprang up,. her cheeks flaming.

“You—you'd hold me, anyhow ?”

“you're too durned putty for

“Why, we need the refinin’ influence of women here,”
he urged, with a laugh. “You'd ought to be willing to
do' a little missionary work. Women missionaries go
out to the heathen, and we're pretty much heathen, I take
it. You could do a lot of good here.”

“Never!” she cried wildly.

“Well, well, don’t go to making yourself nervous over
it! I haven’t come to the conclusion that you ain’t been
lying about your father.” /

She sank back on the rough stool, trembling.

“Won't you let me go, please?” she begged Bee

He laughed again coarsely.

“Not any. Ii you haven’t any dad who will come

down «with a wad of money for your release we'll hold.

you here. I think I ON where I can get a preacher
who would marry us.’
She stared at him, while her face grew white as ashes.
“So, you see, if you're lyin’ to me about that not being
ae dad, you'd better change it!”
“No—no! I haven’t been lying!”
“All right, then,” he said grimly;

“we'll keep you!”

Fe RRR rr te NCO Te etapa sadn catia blac AST a RRR IR NI RRR serie saucers pap amisces ong ere ar

STORIES.
CHAPTER XIT.

BUFFALO BILL'S ADVANCE,

fuels Bill and Nick Nomad did not move from their
high perch throughout the day.

They saw horsemen leave the hidden valley ae inter-
vals, and knew they had ridden back over the trail to
ascertain if an attempt at pursuit had been made, and
they saw these horsernen return.

When night came the scout and the old trapper de-
scended, picking their way slowly down into the cafion.
Their plans were made, and they were ready to put them
into execution.

In a little perch at the side of the cation trail, just.
where it entered the valley, sat the cafion guard, with
rifle across his knees. Other guards were on the slopes,
but it was this guard the invaders had singled out.

Buffalo Bill crept on in advance, with the trapper
crawling at his heels; and no wily Comanche ever crept _
on a sleeping foe with more stealth. \

The cafion was quiet. Not a cricket chirped. But in}
its lower depths a stream of water murmured musically ‘
The only other sound was the booming dip of a night
hawk.

As Buffalo Bill and his companion thus advanced they
came in sight of that sentinel. If they had not located
his position previously they would not have seen him at
all now, or would have thought him a part of the rocky
wall.

He swung his feet listlessly, and seemed not very
watchiul, but that movement of his feet showed that he
was awake.

The scout and the trapper slipped « on like gliding —
serpents.

‘When he was just beneath the sentinel, though not a
dozen paces from him, a twig broke under the knees
of old Nick Nomad. :

The sentinel sat up straighter and looked dos wn ine
the gloom. ‘The crawling forms were motionless eo
quiet now.

Buffalo Bill, with ‘hife in hand, lay with face half
upturned, and saw the outline of the stooping, pec

form above him.

‘A rabbit, mebbe !” he heard the man say to himself. :

Yet the fact. that a pursuit of the outlaws had been
half expected made him suspicious.

For a full minute he. stood there peering, and. Le
might have sunk back into his perch, with his rifle again
across his knees, if a snifing cur from the valley had

not come along.
When the dog scented the men lying in the path he
jumped back, with a startled bark, and then, oe

toward them, began to bark at them, fercely ©

PRCT eli ioe co ad leases Bt Ua
ea ee eT Er ener

 

 
 

THE BUFFALO

“Somethin’ oan there!’ said the sentry, now.

Though he craned his neck and looked, he could see
nothing but darkness. Not even the snapping cur was
visible to him. But when the cur backed away, still
barking, and then turned as if to run toward the valley,
the sentry began to descend from his perch.

_ He came sliding down to the narrow path, still see-
ing nothing, and stood peering along the trail.

Suddenly something dark seemed thrown up into his
face, and he felt the clutch of ironlike fingers on his.
throat. He tried to yell. A sudden terror paralyzed
him. Then he fell backward, with the scout on top of
him, those iron fingers squeezing the breath from his
body. | :

Old Nick Nomad writhed forward.

“A cuss on that dog!” he whispered. “The next doe
_1 comes acrost I shoots him on princerple, jes’ fer this!”
Buffalo Bill’s strong fingers had done their work well;
_the sentry lay in the path, with not only the breath, but

emingly the life, choked out of him. :

The scout now brought from his pockets some cords
f rawhide which he had prepared, slipped the nooses
sver the sentry’s wrists and ankles, and took a turn of
' strong rawhide round the man’s body, pinioning his arms
to his sides. In addition, he pressed into the man’s

mouth a ready-made gag.

“Lift him,” he whispered.

Together they picked up the sentinel, and carrying
him with them moved hurriedly along the path in the
direction of the valley, the yelping dog scampering along
in front and making noise enough to arouse all Ee OC-
cupants.

“Cusses on a dog, anyhow!” whispered old Nick. “Ti
_I ever owns a dog after this, may I be shot fer it!’
When the valley opened before them they stepped
some yards aside from the trail, and there deposited their
burden, the man being still unconscious from that ter-
rible choking.

“T dunno but it’d be better ter knife him and roll him
inter ther crick!”” advised old Nick,

But Buffalo Bill had never a love of killing when it
could be avoided.

Having divested themselves of their burden, they lay
on the ground, listening. The dog had fled on toward
the house, still yelping, and they observed a stir there,
as if some of the outlaws had been aroused by the out-
cry.

-“T think we’d better work nearer in,”
scout,

“Jes’ as you say, Buffler; I’m follerin’ ye!’

They moved farther in, sticking close to the trail;

ut when they came close up to the house they climbed

autiously up the slope.

whispered the

_The men who had been aroused by the yelping of the —

TTL Opts rte cn as pra aarp Rp ae ap Taree roar eh a

 

BILL STORIES. 19
dog, and who now stood in front of one of the cabins,
began to follow the dog now, as it ran back toward the
point where it had encountered the intruding strangers.

Dog and men passed the scouts, who lay flattened out
on the hillside, and went. on toward the perch of the >
sentry.

“Now!” said the scout, and he began siding down
the hill toward the trail.

Old Nick followed him, and they hurried on into the
valley, where more men were gathering before the cabins,
a thing they could not see because of the darkness, but a
thing their keen ears told them.

And they heard these men follow the others acs the
trail.

The two daring scouts hugged the ground closely until
these men had also passed, and then slipped on again,
creeping and sliding over the ground, for more watchers
were out in front of the cabins.

“Ther hosses air over thar, Buffler,”” Nick whispered,
as a stamping sound reached them from off on the right.

“Yes; we saw them there in a corral to-day.”

“It’s a good thing ter git ‘em located. We may want
hosses, and fast ones, before we gits out’n this hyar
hornet’s nest.”

All of which was likely to be true.

CHAPTER XIII.

FINDING THE) SENTINEL.

Old Roundhead had been aroused by the excitement
produced among his followers by the yelping cur that
came running to the houses, with its tail tucked between
its legs.

Ordinarily, this action of the dog would not have at-
tracted much attention, but the outlaws were half expect-
ing pursuit.

“Smelt a cussed b’ar, or wolf!” said one.

Yet, when the dog evinced a desire to rush back along
the trail, they began to follow him; and later, as seen,
another party started.

They went on past the gagged sentry, who had not
yet recovered consciousness, and,on to the sentry’s
perch, the dog leading the way almost to that spot and
then showing a cowardly desire to retreat behind their
heels.

“A b’ar that has made his way inter the cafion!”’ said
one. “And ther dog is skeered ter tackle him.”

Old Roundhead had come up.

He advanced a little now, and spoke in a low tone,
calling to the sentinel, who was supposed to be up there
on his perch.

When no answer came the men began to think it

queer.

 
     
   
   
 
   
 

 

~ of a scuffle.

20 en Bie ALO

“Climb up there, Clem!” commanded Roundhead. “If

he has dropped asleep!”

Woe unto the sentinel that at such a time fell asleep
at his post!

The man addressed as Clem climbed the slope to the
perch, and startled those below by the declaration that
the sentinel was not there.

“Gone?” said Old Roundhead, perplexed and angered,
for it occurred to him that, for some reason, the sentry
might have left his post and gone on toward the en-
trance.

The dog seemed puzzled now. It had run to the point
where it had encountered those forms sprawled out, and
now they wére not there. Not having the nose of a
hound, it could not follow their trail, and so it ran round
in small circles, sniffing and acting in a’most unaccount-
able way.

Old Roundhead struck a match, and surveyed the trail
by its light; and as he did so he fancied he saw évidences
A piece of cloth had been torn from the
sentry’s coat and lay there, with a button attached; and
there were holes gouged in the edge of the bank, where
he had dug in with his toes as he fought to keep from
falling under the rush of Buffalo Bill.

“Two of you go on toward the outer entrance,” said
Old Roundhead, as his match flickered out. “And you,
Clem, and you, Bill, climb up to the sentries on the cliff,
and see if they know anything.”

With the others he began to search about the trail,
and to look, by the light of other matches, down into the
cafion, where the little stream rippled.

It was, not long before the men sent away returned,
having discovered nothing; and they brought word from
the sentinels on the cliff that they had not seen or heard
anything out of the way, aside from the yelping of the
dog.

“Search the trail on the way back,’ commanded

_ Roundhead.

They searched the trail and the slopes at its sides,
burning matches for the purpose; and after a time they

came on the bound and gagged form of the sentinel.

Low exclamations of surprise rose from their lips as
they made this find.

They bore him down into the trail, and there a flask
of whisky being produced, efforts were made to bring
him round, and the gag and bonds were removed.

It was plain to them now that enemies had passed in
through the narrow trail.

“More than one had a hand in this,” said Old Round-
head, with an uneasy recollection of the girl’s persistent
statements that the man she had been with when cap-
tured. was the redoubtable scout, Buffalo Bill himself.

It took some time to bring the sentry round, yet when

he regained consciousness he could hardly speak, because
&

Pi STORIES.

head, who had not much superstition in his make-up.

 

    
    
     
       
   
      
          
   
     
   
     
     
        
 
   
         
     
       
       
     
       
           
       
       
     
     
     
     
       
     
     
       
      
   

of the terrific choking he had received. He coughed
and choked, and wheezed out his story in answer to their
excited questions. a
And after all, he had little to tell, and that little wae a
decidedly mysterious. \
He had heard the dog, and had slipped down ae the
trail to see what the brute meant, when something dark —
flew up from ‘the ground at him, Then he had felt
fingers, or something like fingers, on his throat, and those |
fingers had choked him into insensibility; after which he {
knew nothing. |
He was inclined to be scared and superstitious about it.
“I didn’t see any man!’ he asserted, choking out the
words. “I dunno thet it was a man!”
“No; it was a ghost, or a bear!” sneered Old Round-

“T guess it was a man, all right! Ghosts and bears don’t
tie people up that way and stick gags in their mouths!”

“And they must be inside ther sae i said .one;

speaking in fear. ‘

“They'll find it hard to get out, if they are!’ was “Ol
Roundhead’s stern declaration, ‘Make a search of the
place!

That search was begun at once, after two mén had “4
been sent down the trail, well armed, to watch and guard |
it, and Old Roundhead led the search in person.

Torches flickered and smoked, and the dog was. sent
scurrying here and there; but though that hunt was kept
up for more than two hours nothing was discovered.

Apparently, 1f the men who had assaulted and bound
the sentry had come on into the valley they had hurried
on out of it, ahead of that first searching-patty.

Yet so uneasy was Oid Roundhead that he quadrupled
his guards, and kept his men under arms, permitting no _
one to sleep.

His uneasiness showed in his face and manner, when
he again entered the cabin where Jennie Colter was.

She had heard the commotion, though she did nyt
know its occasion.

He told her now, with incredible frankness, but as-_
sured her that if any men had invaded the place with the
intention of rescuing her the only result would be their *..
capture, and her position would not be made better. — |

“Tell me, now,” he said fiercely, “the truth about that
matter! Have you been lyin’ to me, or was that man
Buffalo Bill?”

She hesitated. For an instantsit occurred to her that
perhaps in telling him that she had been foolish, for it —
seemed that it had put him on guard. He noticed bo «
hesitation.

“So you was lyin’ all along?” he snarled.
“T haven’t said so.”

“Well, say now whether you was or not!”
His manner was threatening.

“Will it—make any difference?”

    
     
    

 
not lift his voice.

THE BUPE ALO

“None in the world, so fur as you’re concerned; nor
him, either. If he’s in here,-he’ll never get out!”

Again she hesitated.
“You have heard what I’ve already said,’ was her an-
‘Believe it or not, just as you please.”

Swer.

CHAPI EReXLY.
BUFFALO BILL’S DARING RESCUE.

“Was that man Buffalo Bill?”

A dozen times Old Roundhead had asked that ques-
tion, and he asked it again, this time in a manner that
was threatening.

All night he had remained awake and watching, com-
ing into the cabin now and then where the girl was held,
and his men had beén equally wakeful.

The door he had entered, and which he had not yet
closed, was darkened suddenly behind him; and, turning,

“he saw before him the well-known figure ofthe scout,

a revolver in each hand and both of them pointing at
his heart.
“Yes; that man was Bultic Bilklo said the scout, re-

! plying to the question and at the same time pushing the

door shut with his foot. “If you have anything to say
about him, say it to him, for he is here to answer for
himself !” ‘

The girl seemed about to scream in her excitement.

Old Roundhead turned pale and retreated toward the
wall.

Within hearing were several of his men, yet he dared
Those deadly tubes threatening him
froze the call on his lips.

“You have nothing to say about it?” said the scout.

Jennie Colter stood speechless.

At first her cheeks had paled, but now they flamed
with color. She stood, all a-tremble, in the middle of
the floor, where she had been standing when accosted
by Old Roundhead.

The latter made a slow motion toward his hip, where
his big revolver swung.
“Try it,’ warned the scout,
not here to take risks!’

He spoke then to the girl.
“Right there, behind him, I see a rope; take it and
tie his hands and feet with it. If he so much as moves
or tries to cry out I shall kill him where he stands! I
have friends outside, and horses ready.”

She trembled so that she could hardly walk; but a
sudden feeling of elation sustained her, as she stepped
toward the frenzied, yet fear-filled, outlaw chief.

“Fold out your hands!” Buffalo Bill commanded, in
a low voice.

Old Roundhead hesitated. A light of desperation
flamed in his eyes, and it seemed that he was about to

“and down you go! [’m

try to get out his revolver, or call to his men, But those

 

you so much as give a

ways mean just what I say.

Scar I TE

 

Bu SLORIES Bt
deadly tubes, pointed straight at him, held him quiet.
Not a dozen yards off he heard some of his men talk-
ing. Why did not some of them step up to the cabin
door and look in?

Yet he knew they would not do that, for they had been
given strict orders to keep away from it.

Though he still hesitated, when the command came
again, in the scott's low, tense tones, he put out his

hands.

The girl had taken the rope down from the wall, and
with trembling fingers she began to tie him.

Buffalo Bill, in low tones, while he still kept the out-
law covered, instructed her how to set the knots.

She gained courage under the inspiration of his voice.

“Tie his feet!’ was the order. “Pass the rope round
his ankles and set the knots good and hard.”

she obeyed, as before.

“Old Roundhead,” he said, when this had been done,
bringing a gasp from the lips of the now cowering pris-
oner by this use of that name, “I propose to go out of
this place with the girl you have brought here; and if
sign to your men before I am out-
side of the cabin it will mean your death! Even 1f you
should arouse them, I should shoot you down, and shoot
you down like the dog you are! You know me, by
reputation at least, and know that in such matters I al-
Now, [’m going to see
that those knots are set right, and then I’m going to put
a gag in your mouth,”

Old Roundhead writhed, but the pistols were still
pointed at him.

Even when Buffalo Bill lowered those threatening

- weapons and stepped toward him, Old Roundhead did

not dare to speak or move, for he felt sure that, what-

ever the outcome, his death would be certain, and fear

held him.

- Buffalo Bill tested the knots, setting them harder.
Having done that, he produced a gag’and forced it into
the man’s mouth, securing it there.

Lifting the prisoner bodily in his strong arms, he car-
ried him to the low bed that occupied a corner of the
room and threw him upon it, covering him over with
the blanket.

“Come!” he whispered to the girl.

He had moved softly, and he stepped to her with the
lightness of a feather.

\

She took his hand. She could trust this man, who had
risked so much for her. And she felt in that moment
that she adored him, for his courage, his manliness, his
strength, and great daring.

“T’'ve a friend outside,” he whispered, and he led her
toward the door, after extinguishing the light.

For a moment or two he stood there listening, with
eye down at the keyhole; then he drew the door open
softly.

 
 

 

   

Wunder tryin’,
__ you'd ought to know what that means.”

  

Clap casaner rea acerca er ey ert a ne aa a a TC eS a A wae: almanac sous as
acy? Rasa SH st usnoctnag lane RO acne a a caret a eae sa

22 THE BUFFALO

“Stoop low!’ he whispered. “If they suspect anything
they may begin to shoot!”

He stooped low himself, as he drew her from the
cabin.

A dozen yards away some men were standing, and
their attention had been attracted by the fact that the
light in the cabin had gone out. Ss

They now saw the two forms in the shadows by the
wall.

“That you?” they asked.

Buffalo Bill drew the girl round the corner without
answering, and then began to run with her out into the
darkness.

She felt in that moment that she could fly—that she
could run forever, for freedom opened before her, and
those hated outlaws seemed left behind. Yet she knew
that the peril must be great, and momentarily she ex-
pected to hear the crack of revolvers and the sounds of
pursuit.

The men ran to the cabin, questioning loudly; and,

rushing round the corner, called out:

“That you, Old Roundhead ?’

Getting no answer, they came straight on, pursuing
the shadows that flitted on before.

Then, in the gloom, the girl saw before her a man
on horseback, who seemed to be holding two other
horses,

The horseman was old Nick Nomad. He and the

scout had already visited the corral where the outlaws .

kept their horses and had secured three of the best, and
Nick had them there new in readiness.

As the horses were reached the scout caught the girl
under the arms, lifting her bodily from the ground.

“Up!” he whispered. “Quick! For now we’ve got
to ride!” ;

The pursuing outlaws came straight on, shouting
questions, yet not daring to fire, for they still thought
this must be Old Roundhead, even though his actions
seemed so inexplicable.
turned back into the cabin discovered Old Roundhead
bound and gagged beneath that blanket on the bed, and
his loud cries of alarm told of the treachery and began
to arouse every one.

A revolver cracked now, and then another; and the
girl felt her flesh creep, as she heard the lead sing over
her head.

She had been fairly thrown on the back of the horse
by Buffalo Bill,

Old Nick Nomad caught her and steadied her into
position.

“Tt’s all right, little ‘un!’ he said kindly.
friends,

o VWwere
reck’lect, and we're hyar ter help ye, er go
I claims ter be a friend o’ Buffler, and

In another half-minute the horses were flying down

But just then one who had

, 2 eh I
PO ce an pr ah ar intr eer a

  
 

BILL STORIES.

the cafion trail, with the roused outlaws shooting wildly ©
at the dimly seen riders. f

“Stoop low!’ commanded the scout; and the girl,
clinging to rein and mane, tried to do as he ordered.

It seemed a wild, mad flight through the darkness, but
the horses were familiar with that trail.

High on the sides of the cafion walls bonfires leaped ©
up in the darkness, set by the guards there when they |
heard the clamor in the valley. .

The guards stationed in the little perch where the first
had been earlier in the night lifted their rifles and waited. ‘

They heard that pounding of hoofs, but they could”
not see well down into the trail, and so could not know
whether those riders who came on so swiftly were friends
or foes.

“Who
cline.

“Who
shoot !”’ .

There was no answer. CTs

. His rifle spurted its flame; but the horses tore right on. } ow

Then the men above him began to shoot, and now 1
those on the higher slopes also opened up, while irom |
far behind, at the valley entrance, other shots came.

“Ride!” said the scout.

“Drive ‘em!’ cried the old trapper, as he gouged his
horse’s sides with his heels.

A bullet tore through the hip of the horse the girl
rodé, and the beast stumbled. | |
_ Buffalo Bill’s strong arm caught her from the back of
the horse as it went down. :

“T think my old hoss has got a load o lead, too,”
Nick. iN

But they rode straight on, Buffalo Bill’s animal now
carrying double and the horse ridden by the trapper
beginning to limp..

They gained the outer end of the cafion trail, yet drove
straight ahead.

For five minutes they held on after leaving the cafion,
and then stopped and dismounted.

Is ° < ae
goes there?’ one yelled, jumping down the in

goes there?” he yelled again. “Answer, or I

 

said!

The girl was panting with excitement.

“We're all safe, I hope?” said Buffalo Bill.

“Sound as a nut!’ cried old Nick.

“And you?” said the scout to the girl.

“I—I am all right!” she answered, trembling.

The horses were turned from the trail. Though one
limped badly, the scout sent them flying, riderless, in
this new direction; and the three people who had been
thus left behind heard them crashing loudly through the
aspens.

Lifting the girl in his arms, Buffalo Bill and old Nick
began to climb the adjacent slope, moving as quietly as
possible.

Behind them they heard the oncoming outlaws. |

“We're safe!” said the seout, to reassure the girl.

 

 

   
   

 

Ss Ace da eta NPAs AABN oNaMNRUNEK Aecinh-etna anc eee

seectsnet oni orel myst iced de ooh OE ie
 

  

  

   
   

“They'll: follow those horses. - Up here, in.a bunch of
aspens, we have other horses, the ones we rode here,

and we're in te now to defy those scoundrels to do
their worst.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XV.
HUNTED BY WOLVES.
| is ‘I reckons we’d better scatter, Pard Buffler,” said old
| I | Nick. “I'll sorter drop back a bit an’ try ter make it
_ interestin’ fer them parsuin’ varmints. I kin send ‘em on

another track, mebbe. You kite on ahead with ther
gal.”

 

The scout and the trapper were being hotly chased
by. Old Roundhead’s desperadoes. :

The trail led between high hills, up which it was im-
possible to climb with horses, and yelind them came the

». _ they appeared to be gaining.

Old Nick had been riding in the rear, twisting round
now and then in the saddle to look back,.though he
) could only at times catch a faint glimpse of the gallop-
a ~ ing pursuers. ee
i We Just as you say,” was the scout’s answer.
| good care of yourself, though.”

He understood old Nick’s desire to “mingle” with. the.
Hascals in a lively fight; but he understood also the sin-
_cerity of the trapper’s wish to aid him and the girl,

_ Nomad. was one of those rare old heroes who always
_ put self last. He was quaint and eccentric, but lovable,
‘with a heart almost too big for his shriveled old body.

) |) “Nebby,” he said, drawing rein, “it’s our call ter chip
inter this game a bit more lively, 1 give ae an’
ther gal a chanct ter git clean away.”

Then he sat on his horse in the trail, listening to the
clatter of hoofs—Buffalo Bill riding away in one di-
‘rection and the pursuing desperadoes coming on as rap-
o idly from: the other.

 

 

“Take

  
 
  

  
 
  

for it had been running hard and seemed fully to under-
stand the peril of the. situation. — ;
Round the bend: of the backward trail came a huge
horseman, leading the pursuit.
““T dunno who ye air,’ muttered old’ Nick Nomad,
“hyar s my complerments to ye, jes’ the same!”

_ The long rifle flamed its contents, and the big horse-
man threw up his hands and pitched over stiffly to the
ground.

 

 

 

 

_ tense | is jestified on occasions like this!”

The horseman behind’ the slain desperado drew rein
with comical suddenness.

Nick Nomad poured a charge of powder into the muz-
f his rifle, rammed Ne a ball, and set a Ly

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

THE BUEFALO

i enraged outlaws, led by Old Roundhead himself, and

The shaggy horse held its head up, Gomme a little,
“but

Seems kinder murder, Nebbe: but killin’ in self-de- .

BILE STORIES... - : : 23°.

 

-He disdained the modern breech-loader, and: his ex-
pertness and the celerity with which he could charge that
old muzzle-loader: seemed almost to justify -his choice.
Certainly that old ene was a dangerous weapon i in Le
hands.

He drew Nebby to one side of the trail, Ww here horse
and rider were screened by the shadows, and waited.
Again his action was justified, for a storm of bullets
flew up the trail, cutting the leaves of the bushes.

Nomad’s hairy lips worked in amused mutterings.

“Wastin’ their good ammynition, Nebby !”

Then he sat in silence.

Again a volley rang out, and a storm of lead threshed
alone the trail like hailstones, bringing only re
from the little old trapper.

“More good ammynition wasted, Nebby! EE i
throwed away lead and powder like thet I’d need a
wagon-train ter tote. my supplies round fer me. But
when we shoots, Nebby, we allus tries ter know what
we're shootin’ at.”

Hearing nothing, and thinking that after making that
stand the pursued had ridden on, the desperadoes came
out from behind the screening rock into the trail.

Then again Nick Nomad’s long rifle was lifted and
blazed, and once more the man who was in the lead fell

to the earth.

There was a sudden scampering retreat following this,
which made Nomad double over on his horse’s neck in
silent laughter. ae

“T reckons we'd better move on now, Nebby, an’ ’ take
ther risks, fer ther next move o’ them devils will be ter
climb ther sides o’ the hills and try ter. surround us. Kin
ye walk jes’ outside ther trail, old hoss, and keep frum
makin’ a noise by trompin’ down ther ‘brush ?”

Nebby seemed to understand quite as well as his mas-
ter just what was needed now, and he moved on quietly,
well within the shadows cast by. the rocks, while old
Nick, having reloaded the long rifle, twisted half round.
in the big saddle and watched the dim trail behind 1 him,
where at the moment not an enemy was to be seen.

As for Buffalo Bill, he had ridden straight. on, driving
his horse at top speed.

At the end of the cafionlike ee where the scout
was given a choice of ways, he deviated from the direct.
course, turning well to the right. :

This led him over some high, rocky ridges, but the »
horse was an excellent hill-climber, and seemed not to
mind the double burden he carried.

Bill and the pa rode into. an
which lay as a great natural

Two hours later Buffalo I
open, prairielike country,

- park between the hills, parks such as are frequent in the

Western mountains. 2
Straight across this the scout held his way, and he
was beginning to feel safe, knowing that the desperadoes

a
 

 

  

had been stayed by old Nick Nomad, and that he, bane
now on another trail, had temporarily baffled pursuit.

The horse was breathing heavily from its rough hill
work, and he drew it down into a slow walk.

“Pretty. tired?” said the scout to the girl, speaking
kindly.

“T’m too excited to be tired,” was her answer.

“I think we are perfectly safe now. Over at the
farther end of this park is a trail which will take us on
toward the town.”

“But Nick Nomad?” she questioned.

“T’ye never known the time when that old fellow
couldn’t take care of himself.”

“V’m anxious about him.”

“T might be if I didn’t know him so well.”

“But if he falls into their hands they'll murder him!”

“Very true, yet I don’t think he’ll fall into their hands.
He’s a shrewd old mountaineer, knows every trail and
every hill; has fought Indians and outlaws all his life,
and has never yet been permanently worsted. Nick No-
mad will probably reach the town before we do.”

The scout’s confidence relieved the mind of the girl.

“T can never thank you enough for what you and he
have done—for the risks you took to help me, a stranger
to you!” she said earnestly.

“Ah, but I was not a stranger to your father!” he
answered. “Yet I would have done the same under any
circumstances. My dear young lady, it is all in the
game, and isn’t worth talking about. I regret, though,
that. | wasn’t able to hold Dick Torrent when | had
hin

He spurred the horse into a faster gait.

“What is that?’ she asked suddenly, when she saw
something dark leap across the way in front.

“Did you see something?” he asked.

“T certainly did! Yes, and there is another!”

Her voice trembled.
He pretended to be looking in the direction she indi-
cated. Yet he had seen those scurrying forms even be-

fore she’ spoke, and he knew what they were—wolves of

the mountains, that, having scented the fleeing pair and
their horse, were gathering for an attack.
By a motion of his hand, which she did not detect, he
released one of the revolvers.
“And there’s another!” she cried. “They’re—they’re
wolves !” a
‘From off at the left came a prolonged howl, as if the

king wolf was summoning his pack.

“Wolves?” he said; “true enough !”’
an, tide—ride!” she begged, clutching him with a arms
that trembled. “Ride, for Heaven’s sake!”

“Daylight is no more bee an hour or so away, and
they may not attack us,” he urged.
ened.”
pit they are going to attack us!

{?

_ She cried, as she

 

THE BUFFALO

“Don’t be fright-.

iliea ees

A patheeegnartdt ee

BILL STORIES.

saw one trot with eee motion close in toward the
horse.
‘We'll ride a bit faster, if you say so; but, really, we
don’t want to make them think we’re afraid of them.”
“But—but is there no shelter? Can't we go some-

where?”

 

They were well out in the wide, price park, which | :

was so vast that it seemed but a level sea of grass, miles
and miles in extent. And nowhere within its area was
there anything which could offer refuge.

The horse was moving at rather a brisk gait by this

time, and the wolves were momentarily becoming bolder,

Through the darkness other running forms could be
seen; and now and then some of the more daring came
close in to the horse, snapping and showing gleaming
teeth.

At intervals wild howls rose on the air from different
directions. The wolves of the hills were gathering.

The girl became more and more frightened, in spite

of the scout’s efforts to calm her and his assurances that.»

the peril was not great.

He knew, however, that the danger was becoming
great, and he foresaw a battle and a race for life.

It came even sooner than he anticipated.

One of the boldest of the ferocious creatures, leaping

up, stuck its teeth into the leg of the horse and drew
from it a tiny stream of blood.

The effect was terrifying. The scent of blood mad=

dened the wolves, and they crowded in from all sides,
snapping and leaping.

Then one of the boldest leaped fairly to the back of

the frightened and running horse.

Buffalo Bill struck it down with his royolven, but for
an instant the face of the huge, fierce creature, its gleam-
ing teeth and fiery eyes were right before the eyes of the

girl, and she even felt its hot, panting breath.
She screamed. That terrible sight was too much, and
the next moment she was in a faint.

Jennie Colter was a girl of the border, with all the
courage which that implies, and under ordinary circum-
stances even this startling experience would not have
made her faint; yet for many hours her nerves had been

at high tension, she had had no sléep, and had eaten

almost nothing, and her strength had given way.

The scout caught her, to keep her from falling, ang !

drew her well up on the horse, where she lay limp.

The wolves seemed to know that something had gone

wrong, and it made them bolder.

They began to spring more courageously at the horse
and to snap at the legs of the scout.

They were increasing in numbers, too, drawn by those
mournful howls.

Buffalo Bill’s revolver was out, and its Re cee
fell on the night air, and a wolf tumbled back to, the

ground.

ON eran i nN ak aa cil pha Sa a eli Nish

he la Shas i nae ee

       

‘i
‘i
ai

  
   

 

   

 

 

  
 
   
   
  

  

  
   

  
 
 

a eI

 

 

| ti a
NS

  

 

He was set on instantly by his companions, who scented
the blood that dripped from the builet None _and in
another minute he was torn to “pleces.

The fall of the wolf stayed them for a little; and the
scout, putting the horse now at a wild gallop, was able
fe gain on the snarling pack.

But they came on again, yelping wie. the whole pack

in full chase, and, overtaking the horse, they began to
leap up again, snapping and snarling. Some of the most
vicious and wisest sprang at the horse's legs, to hamstring
him, and so bring him down, as they did deer and other
game.
_ One of the lean gray monsters leaped upward and
snappd at the helpless form of the girl, but Buffalo Bill’s
revolver cracked at the same moment, and the wolf fell
writhing to the earth,

It was set on, as the other had been, and was torn to
pieces, being devoured even before it was fairly dead.
Dimly ‘ahead of him the scout saw some dark hills,

_and he knew he was approaching an outthrust spur of

the range.

The sight gave him hope.

_So again he drove his heels into the sides of the horse,
and holding the girl with one arm pumped bullets at the
snapping brutes that pursued him.

Whenever one fell, the others were instantly on top
of it, tearing it with their teeth, even while its howls of
pain rang out.

Driving his horse toward the nearest ridge, which rose
before him like a sharp wedge, the scout forced the pant-

 

ing animal to the top, shooting coe the wolves that

crowded him hardest.

Buffalo Bill slipped to the ground, still holding the
girl, who had begun to moan in a way to show return-
ing consciousness. —

Placing himself in front of her and the trembling
horse, with one hand the scout worked a revolver, drop-

ping wolf after wolf, and so holding them at bay, while

with the other hand he drew from his pocket a flask of
liquor and spilt its contents on the grass.

‘As he did so. he shot one ag tae down into the
grass.

It was an uncertain experiment, and he was thinking
that it would have to be followed with a match; but the
fire’of the cartridge set flame to ae brandy-soaked g grass
and a flame shot upward.

“As it thus sprang up in a tongue of fire, which re-

vealed the leaping and snarling wolves, they fell back

before it, for all animals dread fre, especially wild

animals.

The fire, caught by the wind that came down from the
hills, flashed higher, driving the wolves still farther back;
and Buffalo Bill, leading the horse and carrying the

_ girl, stepped through it, even though it scorched the legs

_ the horse, and finding a bare rock which the fire

ee

THE BUPPAIO’

  

Billy STORIES. 725)
one not touch he ap abed to Me top of it, dragging | the
horse up the steep by the bit.

Some of the desperate wolves. circled ‘round the fire,

which had not spread far, but Buffalo Bill shot two of
the leaders, thus holding the others in check for a. mo-
ment or so, and in that interval he thrust a lighted match
into the’ grass on that side. _

In a very short time he was cordoned with flame,
which held the wolves at bay.

“lf any of Old Roundhead’s desperadoes have strayed
into this section in pursuit of me they'll see this fire, all
right,” was his thought ; “but better desperadoes, even,
that these wolves.”

Then he gave his attention to restoring the girl to ¢ con-
sciousness. e

For a time, at least, he was safe, and daylight was
now fast coming: on.

arora

CHAPIER XVI.
CLEVER NEBUCHADNEZZAR.

Old Nick Nomad was having some interesting ad-
ventures of his own, and so was Nebuchadnezzar.

The deaths of the outlaws shot down by Nick held
the others in check for awhile, until old. Nick and Nebby
were able to get some distance away, where they trusted

to Nebby’s heels and flew on toward the end of the nate

row path. oe
"Here Nick Nomad does e om the trail, turning in
a direction opposite to that taken by Buffalo Bill.
When he had ridden a short distance he dismounted,
and drawing the rein over Nebby’s head left the faith-

ful beast there, while he crept back.

He felt that it was his duty to delay the desperadoes
until the safety of Buffalo Bill and the girl was as-
sured.

Slipping .back toward the trail, Nick Nomad climbed
into a thick-branched, scrubby tree that grew on a hill-
side, and from that perch watched, ee, with nb
long rifle across his knees.

He heard the outlaws come on to the end of the
narrow. path, and there he saw them light torches and be-
gin to look about, for their natural sense told them it was
likely the daring invaders of the valley had left the path
near that point. ae

They had with them the dog that had. given warnine
of the intruders’ invasion, and Nick saw it by the light
of the torches, as it ran whining and sniffing here and
there. He cursed it, in a low, humorous way, telling
himself that if he had a dog possessed of no more sense
he would shoot it and feed it to coyotes.

The dog was of no service as a trailer, yet some of the
outlaws seemed to rely much on its nose, and encouraged
it in its work.

After a little the torch nearest Nick fickered out, or

 

 

 
  

 
 

26 THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

was hidden. by intervening rocks, and he saw no more
of the dog, though for a time he heard some of the des-
peradoes encouraging the animal in its futile attempts. —

-When the last of the torchlights vanished and the
voices grew fainter Nick Nomad slipped down from the
tree and climbed the slope toward Nebuchadnezzar.

As he did so he heard strange sounds, which hastened
his movements.

The dog, in circling round on the slope, had found
Nebuchadnezzar. ee ae

Nebby at the time had his shaggy head on the ground
and was endeavoring to do a little quiet grazing, though
the quantity of grass to be secured there was not great.

He was disturbed in this by the dog, that came trot-
ting and sniffing toward him over the rocks.

The dog beheld no man, and was not sure what the
discovery of this horse meant.

Nebby lifted his shaggy head and se at the in-

truder, munching the while at the scrap of grass he had
pulled from. a niche in the rock.

A wise old shaggy-head was Nebuchadnezzar. The
trapper had hardly exaggerated the horse’s intelligence
in his talks with Buffalo Bill. He knew that the dog
was a foe, just as he would have known that a sniffing
wolf was a foe, for his master owned no dog. —

As the dog came near the horse turned its heels to-
ward it, and so wheeled round slowly, as a wild hors
does when threatened by a wolf, keeping its heels Bs
ways at the danger-point.

The dog drew still nearer, sniffing, and seemed on the
point of barking.

It was at this ‘anaes feta Nick Nomad canie
in sight of the two, having crawled up silently over the
rocks. ie
colher pizen-eritter? che eine d and his rifle ee
from the hollow of his arm. “I wonder ef he’s got a
human with *im?”

He saw no one as he stared round in the faint light, he
could not be sure that one or more of the outlaws was not
near. With the dog there it was likely that they were
not far away.

For a minute he watched the’ dog sniffing ee fhe
horse, and the horse turning slowly with heels to the foe.

Putting his fingers to his lips, the old trapper sent forth
a low whistle, that had some resemblance to the whistle
of a startled deer.

The ears of the horse rose with a jerk as he heard it.
Then followed a lightninglike kick with both feet, aimed
. straight at the dog.

The thump of that terrific kick reached the trapper, and
caused him to double over with laughter, as Be saw the
dog roll backward. S

Wheeling round with a leap the here: now rtished upon
the dog, coming down on it with all four like a deer
jumping on a rattlesnake. - : 2

Old Nick Nomad was slipping on again, his sides sha-
king with merriment, yet wary and alert and with rifle
ready for anything. He half expected to see some des-
perado show himself on the slope.

The dog had been killed by that first kick ; “yet old
Nebby was still pulverizing it with his hoofs when the
trapper arrived on the spot.

_ “Whoa, Nebuchadnezzar—whoa, consarn ye!” he a
in low tones. “Don’t git so rambunctious excited over
this that you'll call all the human varmints up hyar!~ You
done that work good, but you needn’t run even a good
job- inter ther ground. No use hammerin’ him any
more.”

He stroked the shaggy neck of the trembling horse,

“You laid him out, Nebby, and I knowed you could do
it; and thet’s why I give ye ther signal; but you needn’t.
keep on fightin’ a dead creetur. He's deader’n old
Joshua!”

‘He stepped over to the dog, and lifted it, seeing the

form still quiver; and observed that the first kick de- a i

livered by the heels of Nebuchadnezzar had broken the
dog’s neck.

“Dead as a smoked herrin’, Nebby|
rooster, you! You hoppin’, pizen, horned toad, you!
Durned ef I ain’t proud of ye! Whoa, Nebuchadnezzar!” ;

The horse was still trembling.

“Jes’ because you .done it up slick thar ain’t no need
fer ye ter keep on quiverin’, as ef you expected it ter
come at ye again. Whoa, Nebby!”

Having thrown down the dog, he again stroked the
shaggy neck of the horse.

“Now, eee he said, putting up the rein,
me is a-goin’ ter adjourn this meetin’. Hyar’s a high hill
tight before us, which no common hoss could climb; but
I'm bettin’ that you kin go up it, ef I helps ye a little.”

Forthwith he began to “help” Nebby up the steep slope,
his help being pulls on the bridle, with sundry jerks and
encouraging words.

And though the hill was so een thus encouraged, ‘old
Nebuchadnezzar went up it like a climbing goat.

The descent on the opposite side was almost as bad, and
now and then Nebby shot downward like a toboggan.
But the net result was that the old trapper and his shaggy
beast were able to leave the dangerous trail behind them.

After a time they found a hollow through whi
stream ran, and down it they descended toward the oh
that were still so far away.

CHAPTER RVI.

“OAGAIN

IN. SILVER BUTTE,

“Buffler Bill ferever! Hooroar!

Many hours had passed and many, weary miles oa
been tr aveled, and the time was after noon, of the follow-
ine day. 6 Be

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—~-“way her weariness.

 

Old Nick Nomad had descended in safety to the plains,
without secing foe of any’kind after that encounter with

the dog.

He had gained a high ridge that overlooked the town
of Silver Butte. Nebby had his nose deep in grass, and
the old man had been gnawing at some jerked venison
which he had carried behind his saddle; but now he rose
up and stared hard into the valley below, where ran a trail.
_ “Hear thet, Nebby!’’ he cried, jerking Nebby’s rein
from the ground. “Buffler Bill ferever.”

A minute later he was dragging old Nebby by the

bridle down the slope, at the same time waving one hand

excitedly in the hope of attracting the scout’s attention.
- In this he succeeded, for the scout’s eyes were as keen
and watchful as those of a hawk.

Buffalo Bill saw the old man stumbling down from the
high ridge, where he had been concealed among the rocks

and sage-brush, and drew rein.

Jennie Colter was seated behind Buffalo Bill’s saddle,
and they were journeying toward Silver Butte. __
The girl was very tired; yet that sight seemed to drive
She smiled and laughed. She had
feared the worst for the old trapper, even though the
scout had more than once declared his confidence in his
abilities.

“Nomad!” she said, and she waved her hand to him..

“And sound as a nut!” said Buffalo Bill, as pleased.as
the girl. “Old Nick pays may be depended on to tutn

_ up safe, whatever happens.”

“He is a wonderful man!’

“Aye, that he is!” said the scout heartily.

A little later Nomad had reached the trail, and was
shaking hands with the scout and the girl, who had de-
scended from the back of the horse.

“T been watchin’ fer ye fer four mortual hours, Bui-
fler!”’ he cackled, as he pumped away with both hands.
“Ve been so long in comin’ that I’d begun ter think mebbe
you'd got ahead o’ me and was already in ther town. 1
told old Nebby that ef we camped on that high ridge we'd
be cert’in ter see ye descend by one o’ ther trails. How
air ye—how air ye! Gol-durn it, shake ag’in! Them
human varmints didn’t git ye, I see.”

“Oh, but we’ve had a dreadful time!” said the girl;
and she began to tell of their experience with the wolves.

“Well, I’ve been havin’ a good time! Nebby’s been
and made a hero out’n hisself ag’in. Killed thet dog, by
thunder!
baloo when we slipped inter the cafion trail? Waal, old
Nebby jes’ ferever settled thet creetur’s hash—oh, he sali-
vated im!”

_ He bent over, shaking with merriment; and then told

the wonderful story in his own wonderful wav.

“I reckon ef wed jes’ turned Nebby loose in thet trail

doe BOVPALO. Bil

You recklect that dog that made sich a hulla-—

STORIES. 27

and give ’im his orders he’d ’a’ broke the necks of every
one 0’ them parsuin’ rascals, includin’ of Old Roundhead
hisself. Buffler, thar’s a hoss wuth a million dollars; and
ter look at ‘im you wouldn’t think he’s wuth a hundred

cents! Thet shows how much ye kin count on looks in
this world. I never gives over the opinion that them that
does air better than them that looks.”

* * ** x *

Silver Butte was permitted the sensation that day of
looking upon two Buffalo Bills, or, rather, upon two men
each of whom seemed to be Buffalo Bill; for the Texas
ranchman had come into town that morning his
daughter and an escort of cowboys; and his attire and
general appearance being so much like those of the ja-
mous scout, those who had not seen Buffalo Bill there a
short time before could be pardoned for thinking this was
the scout’ returned.

with

Jack Clermont, the ranchman, had hardly entered the
town before he found himself in trouble.

Word reached Dick Torrent, the wounded gambler,
that Buffalo Bill had returned; and Torrent summoned
his fighting men, for he did not intend to be taken without
a resistance.

One of these fighting men he sent down with an ulti-
matum to Clermont, ordering him to leave town at once

_or take the consequences, assuring him that he would not

surrender without a fight and that he intended to shoot his
foe on sight. Se

Jack Clermont was naturally very much
when. he received this message.

astonished

“Why, I never saw this man Torrent!” he proclaimed.

“Air you Buffler Bill?’ was the demand.

Clermont hesitated.

He had intended to claim that he was Buffalo Bill.

_ “Well, what if I am?”

“Then this order is for you—you're to git out o’ here;
and if you try to take Torrent thar’ll be gun play o’ the
wust kind, and you'll find yerself.layin’ on yer back and
starin’ up at the stars, with enough bullets in ye to sink
a ship.”

This was plain speaking ; and Jack Clermont concluded
that in that place at least he did not care to assume the
character of Buffalo Bill.

So he laughed good-naturedly.

“Go back and tell Mr. Torrent that I’m- not Buffalo
Bill, and that I’m here on a peaceful errand, which has
nothing to do with him. And give him my compliments.”

When Buffalo Bill descended into the town, at the
close of the afternoon, there was another flutter of ex-
citement, and again the warning of danger was sent to
Torrent’s room.

Heedless of danger, apparently, the scout went with old

   

 

  
28

Nick and the girl to the Palace Hotel, telling the pro-

ptietor why he had left the town and what had occurred,

yet saying nothing of his intentions toward Torrent.
The story flew on the wings of the wind.

It was a story of nerve and daring, for the desperadoes

ander Old Roundhead were well known by reputation at
least, and personally to many men of the place. That
Buffalo Bill and Nick Nomad had invaded the stronghold
of the mountain bandit and brought the girl safely away
seemed almost an incredible thing.

Many disbelieved it and denied its probability ; but even
these were inquisitive enough to crowd the saloon and
the gambling-house, with eager questions; and the pro-
prietor was kept busy telling the ae as he handed
drinks over the sloppy bar.

In the midst of this, Buffalo Bill had a caller, in
the person of Jack Clermont, the Texan, who came into
the room, looking somewhat red-faced, for he still wore
that suit made in imitation of the clothing of Buffalo Bill,
and was self-conscious because of it.

He had heard the story, and it had induced him to call
on the redoubtable scout. He was greeted with a kindness
| that made his face grow even redder. He had not known
_ how his masquerading would be received by the genuine
Buffalo Bill, and was pleased to be greeted courteously in
| spite of it.

He hung his big hat on his knee, as he sat | in a chair,

talking with the scout.

Old Nick was in the room, wary as a hawk, taking no
part in the conversation. Nick hardly heard what was
said, for his ears were trained on the door and on the hall
outside of it, where enemies might be expected to ap-
proach. This watching habit, a characteristic so Indian-

like as to be most noticeable, had become a second nature -

to him. So long had .his life been spent among wild
things—wild beasts and wild men, who are always watch-

ing for enemies, that he had become in that respect like:

them. No watch-dog with nose on paws before the door
of his master’s dwelling was ever more alert in that way
than old Nick. .
“T think I owe you something,”
“In what way?’ the scout asked.
“Well, you see if I had come a day or so sooner, or if
you hadn’t got here first, it would have been my daugh-
ter captured, instead of this other young lady; and to get
her back I should probably have had to pay the fifty thou-
sand dollars which that rascal, Old Roundhead, de-
manded. That is what I mean, when I say I owe you
something,” <i
“In that sense you were fortunate,” the scout ndeitied.
“And I’m ready to pay it—whatever you think it ought
to be worth!”

said Clermont.

THE BUPUALO-

Bill STORIES.

Buffalo Bill’s face dushed: He was not accustomed to
taking pay for any humanitarian work performed by him.

even though the offer was made by a man $0 wealthy as —

Jack Clermont.

But in an instant his countenance cleared.

“Tl tell you what I’d like you to do, Mr. Clermont,”
he said. “That girl’s father was killed, and all the money
he had was taken. That leaves her penniless, as well as
fatherless. You may pay me by helping her; give her
whatever sum you think you wish to give me, and you'll
be doing a good deed to a girl who just now needs help.”

“T'll do it,’ said Clermont heartily. “Vl! see that shes
placed in a good financial position.”

“Thank you,” said the scout ; “and, now, another thing.”

“Name it.”

“Vou have some cowboys with you?”

¥as./

“Tet me have two or three of them—fellows who can. :

be depended on to fight.”

“Tl do it; I’ve got just the men you want.”

“With two or three good fighting men, and my friend
Nick Nomad, I can take that gambler, Dick Torrent. He
is the murderer of that girl’s father; and, in addition to
that, murdered a man on the Platte a year ago.”

“Vou can have the men as soon as you like,” said Cler-
mont.

* Xk * * # # *

That night, with old Nick, and the cowboys furnished
by Jack Clermont, Buffalo Bill raided the room where
Dick Torrent had stationed himself with his nS ‘of
fighting men.

There was a hot time for a few minutes, and some

wounded men at the end of it.
But Buffalo Bill captured the murderer, whose wounded

shoulder had much improved since it was hurt; and the
next day he set out, with an escort, for civilization, ta-

king with him his prisoner.
Old Nick went with him, and so did Jennie Colter, for
she wanted to get away from that wild land. RS
Later, Jack Clermont kept his word, sending to her
the money which he had wished to pay to Buffalo Bill;
and, as it was a generous sum, it placed her beyond want,
and on the road to prosperity.

THE END.

Next week’s issue, No. 260, will be “Buffalo Bill at the
Torture Stake; or, A Close Call Among the Utes.”
is another strong, characteristic story, giving the great
scout’s thrilling experience as a prisoner of the Utes, at

‘This 32

a time when that fierce tribe dominated the Colorado

mountains.

eS Heware of Wild West imitations of the Buffalo Bill Stories. They are about fictitious characters. The Buffalo
Bill weekly is the only weekly containing the adventures of Buffalo Bill, (Col. W. F. Cody), who is known all

over the world as the king of scouts.

 
 

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convinced that you will be proud to have him as a friend. The
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84——King of the Wild West’s Sapphire Mines; or, The
ee Smugglers of Yogo Creek.
85—King of the Wild West’ s Crooked Trail; or, A Trip
into Old Mexico.
86—King of the Wild West’s Human Map;
Treasure of the Magic Cave Trail.
87—King of the Wild West in the Corra al; or, Teach-
ing the Law to Custer, the Wild Horse.
8&8—King of the Wild West’s Dangerous Game; or,
; The Win-Out in Idaho,
89—King of the Wild West’s Strange Find; or
Lost City of the Sangre de Christo.
go—King of the Wild West’s Militia; or, Breaking the
Strike in Leadville.
o1—King of the Wild West’s Justice; or,
War of the Las Animas.
' 92—King of the Wild West’s Saint; or, The End of
Polygamy in Utah.
03—King of the Wild West’s Hold;or, C Capturing the
Big Timber Thieves.
94—King “of the Wild West's Submarine; or,
See for Sunken Treasure,

Gb ihe

The

The Sheep

The

 

LATEST TITLES:

yon

g5--Kine of the Wil
Stone Door.
96—King of the Wild Wes
of 7 liburon: Island.
97—Kinge of the Wild West's. Strange Quest; or, The
. White Princess of Sonora.
98—King of the Wild West’s
Enigma of Lost Springs.
99—King of the Wild West’s. Chas
of Yuen Ho.
100—Kine of the Wild West’s Meteor; or,
the Kiondike Diamond.
xyOi—Kking of the Wild West in Siberia; or, Castaway on
the Arctic Ocean.
102—King of the Wild West’s Haunt; or, Stella’s Escape
trem Sacrifice,
103—Kinge of the Wild West ts’ Dive: or,
the * Go iden Baby.’
104—King of the Wild West’s Guard: or, Stella’s Long
— Shot.
to5—King of the Wild West’s Posse; or,
Vigilance Committee.

1 West's Finish; or, The Great

S Peril: Cannibals

or, Fhe

Horsethief;. or, The

The Rescue
The Race tor

The Finding of

Stella’s Own

 

 

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2--Buffalo Bill’s Arapahoe Alliance; or, Fighting. the
Tejons.
3—Buffalo Bill on Special Service:
Dance of the Apaches,
4—Buffalo Bill on a Treasure Hunt; or,
: Hoard of the Yaquis.
Pe Bill’s Lost Quarry ; or, Following a Cold
Tear,
6—Butfialo Bill Among the Seaanciee or,
hunder’s Last Ride.
7—Buffalo Bill's Stockade Siege ;
Fort.
8—Buffalo Bill’s Creek Quarrel ; or, Long Hair’s Teng
Shot.
i9o-—Buffalo Bill Among the Pawnees; or, Nick W bare
ton’s Redskin Chum.
o—Buffalo Bill on a Long Hunt; or, The Tracking of
Bo Arrowhead.
—Buffalo Bill’s Wyoming Trail: or, The Conquering
2 of Red Hand,
2—Buffalo Bill and the Redskin’ Wizard; or, The
Mystery of Biting oe

or, The Death

The Secret

ond

ot, Holding” the

THE

 

LATEST TITLES:

253-—Bufialo Bill’s Bold Challenge; or, Fighting Red-
skins in the River, .
254-——Buffalo Pill’s Shawnee Stampede; or, Evil Heart's
Last Cait,
255—Buffalo Bill’s Worst Foe;
of the Sioux.
256—-Buffalo Bill On a Desert Trail; or, The Mystery o
2 ee Mojave,
257—Buffalo Bill’s Rio Grande Feud ;
the Apaches.
258—Buffalo Bill in Tight Quarters; or,
the Jumping Tarantula.
2s9—Buffalo Bill’s Daring Rescue; or,
Wolves.
260—Buffalo Bill at the a aetiee Stake; or, A Close Call
Among the U tes,
261—Buffalo Bill's 7 reasure 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 af
Goid and Death.

or, The Black Panther

or, Che Giant of
The Ruse of

Hunted by

 

 

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iy HE old popular favorite, Frank Merriwell, has signalized his triumphant return to
the pages of TIP TOP, beginning with No. 512, by opening a novel

OF

 

 

     
 
 

where he has put into practice some clever schemes long entertained, with the ideal
of building up the constitutions of backward ads. 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. ae “

Tell all your young friends that Frank has come back to his own, better equipped

than ever to arouse the interest and enthusiasm 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. |

513—Frank Merriwell’s Trouble; or, Enemies of the School.

- 514—Frank Merriwell’s Pupils; or, The Wizards of Water Polo.
515—Dick Merriwell’s Satisfaction: or, Hot Work at Indoor Baseball,
516—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.

~5{9—Frank Merriwell’s Mode; or, Winning the Confidence of a Wild Lad.
520—Frank Merriwell’s Aids; or, “The Secret Order of Scalp Lifters.”
521—Dick Merriwell’s Visit; or, Hot Times at Farnham Hall,
522—Dick Merriwell’s Retaliation; or, Fardale Against Farnham Hall,
523—Dick Merriwell’s Rival; or, Dale Sparkfair at Fardale,
524—Frank Merriwell’s Young Crew; or, The Mystery of the Boat House.
525—Frank Merriwell’s Fast Nine; or, Champions of the County.

 

 

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the Redskins.
BILL STORIES.

 

BUFFALO BILL STORIES

Buffalo Bill is the hero of a thousand exciting adventures among
These are given to our boys only in the BUFFALO
They are bound to interest and please you.

 

 

 

MIGHT AND MAIN

These are stories of the adven-
tures of boys who succeeded in
climbing the ladder of fame by
honest effort. No more inter-

esting tales can be imagined.
Each number is at least one-third
longer than the ordinary- five-
cent library.

NICK CARTER ES

We know, boys, that there is
no need of introducing to you
Nicholas “Carter, the - greatest
sleuth that ever lived. Every
number containing the adven-
tures of Nick Carter has a peculiar,
but delightful, power of fascina-
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BRAVE AND BOLD

Every boy who prefers variety
|| in his reading matter, ougié to

|| be a reader of Brave and Bold.

|| All these were written by authors
} who are past masters in the art
of telling boys’ stories. Every

: | tale is complete in itself.

Ted Strong was appointed dep- | ji
uty marshal by accident, but he
resolves. to use his authority and
rid his ranch of some very tough
bullies. He does it in such a slick
way that everyone
“King of the Wild West”
certainly deserves his title.

and he

calls him |)

 

[TEDSTRONG KING 25- WILD WEST |

= HAnig,  10Wn DY 3 Ride

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

| The demand for stirring stories
of Western adventure is admir-

aa ably filled by this library. Every

up-to-date boy ought to read just

*} how law and order are estab-

lished and maintained on our
+| Western plains by Diamond Dick,
zs , Bertie, and Handsome Harry.

 

BOWERY BOY LIBRARY “a

The adventures of a poor waif 7
whose only name is “Bowery _
Billy.” Billy is the true product
of the streets of New York. No

boy can read the tales of his trials ||
without imbibing some of that |

resource and courage that.makes

the character of this homeless boy |)

stand out so prominently. wif

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE TIP TOP WEEKLY

 

 

 

 

Boys, Frank Merriwell has opened a school of physi¢al devel-
opment. He has gathered all of his old-time comrades about him
and their adventures are wonderfully interesting. These are cer-
tainly ane best tales of athletic adventure.