No.36Z
APR.18,1908

pur
STORI
AWeekly Publication devoted to Border History

 yeceees

 
 
 

 

  

~ DEVOTED TO BORDER LIFE

 

 

  

Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year.

  

Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. V. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Ave., NV. V.
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1908, 27 the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C.

 

 

over the world as the king of scouts.

 

oe {=~ Beware of Wild West imitations of the Buffalo Bill Stories. They are about fictitious characters. The Buffalo
Bill weekly is the only weekly containing the adventures -of Buffalo Bill,

(Col. W. F. Cody), who is known all

 

No. 362.

NEW YORK, April 18, 1908.

Price Five Cents.

 

Biber PALO BILL'S PICK-UP,

= THE SECRET OF THE HAT AND DAGGER.

 

5

| : | . : By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.”

 

CHAPTER I,
A PRESENT FOR THE SCOUT.

A knock fell on the door of the room. . Buffalo: Bill,
leaning back in a chair by the open window, smoking
and reflecting, pulled himself sharply out of his reverie.

“Come in,” he called.

The door was pushed ajar and a meek-looking China-
nian showed himself on the threshold. The Chinaman
was Jim Fong, general utility man and Gelestial bell-hop
icr that palatial log tavern, the pride of Wagon Wheel,
aid known as “The Colonel’s Own.”

_ “Howdy, Jim?’ said the scout tentatively.
“Howdy, Buff’ Bill?’ returned Jim Fong,
face cracking into a childlike grin.

Jim must’ have knocked on the door aah the toe of
‘one of his wooden-soled shoes, for both hands were
thrust into the sleeves of his yellow blouse.

r “What do you want?” demanded Buffalo Bill.

Pll Jim Fong stepped into the room-and advanced until he
stood within a footyof the scout. He jerked his hands
apart suddenly and the sleeves fell, hiding his yellow

  

his yellow

 

wide sleeve, and exposed his yellow fingers.

fingers.
ened.

“One piecee papel; you savvy him?”

Jim’s right hand arose, shook back the drapery of the
There was
a square card between the fingers and he flipped it onto
Buffalo Bill’s knee.

“Visitor, eh?’ murmured Buffalo Bill, die a short
laugh. “Rather odd for a visitor here in Wagon Wheel
to be sending up his card. I hadn’t any idea there was
a visiting-card this side of Santa Fé.”

He picked up the square bit of pasteboard.

“Ah,” he went on, in a puzzled tone, “it isn’t a visiting-
card, after all.

The card bore the following, -written in a neat hand:

His air smacked of mystery, and his grin broad-

“A shight token of esteem from an admirer of the King
of Scouts, especially to commemorate the gallant rescue
of Phil Okay. a

“Is this all there is to it?” queried the scout, peering
at the smirking Chinaman. “Jim, you yellow rascal,
where’s the token?” ‘

“Me gottee him, all same,” said Jim.

 

 
  
 

 

ag Nt aN ec tt ALE PAO POAT NA sin

Saha gee ae le Pas

 

THE BUFFALO

Thereupon his left hand arose, flipped back the flow-
ing sleeve, and revealed a thin, square package.

‘“VYou’re the queerest hatchet-boy I’ve seen in a long
time, Jim,’ remarked the scout, taking the small pack-
“Why didn’t you hand that tome with the card?”

age.
“No savvy plackage go with one piecee papel,” an-
swered Jim Fong.
didn’t they come together ?”’
“All same.’
“Th 1en you ought to hand them over together. Where

did you get them?”

“Othel side papel lead Buff’ Bill. Me findee papel and
plackage in office. Blingee light up.”

“You don’t know who left them?”

“No savvy. No makee see.”

“Doesn't the colonel know ?”

“Him no savvy.”

“All right, Jim, you’ve done your duty. Good-by.”

But Jim Fong lingered, his hand partly extended, palm
up. The scout comprehended, and dropped a two-bit
piece in the yellow palm.

“Much ‘blige, Buff? Bill,”
toward the door. —

When he went out he left the door open. Shuffling
away down the hall, he suddenly paused, stepped out of
his wooden-soled shoes, and crept back to the open door
in his bare feet. Kneeling. down, he shoved his head
forward and peered through the door.

Biff, thump! Buffalo Bill had snatched a. brier pipe
from the table near which he was sitting and had thrown
it with unerring aim. The pipe struck smartly against
Jim Fong’s yellow forehead, and he let out a whoop,
leaped up, and scampered away.

“Talk about your snooping
scout, “T’ll gamble a blue stack
in the whole Southwest.
had a talk
hole?”

said Jim Fong, shuffling back

Chinks,” muttered the
that one hasn’t his beat
I wonder if Nomad and | ever

Settling back in his chair with a grim smile, the scout
dismissed the Chinaman from his tholights and took up’
the matter of the card and the “token,.’

“Elere’s a go!” he went on, staring alternately at’ the
little package and at the card. “What admirer of mine
has remembered me with a present on account of that
Okay business? I saved Okay from the brutal designs
of Dirk Darrel, the Nugget Notch gambler, and thereby
won Darrel’s lasting enmity and made the Notch so un-
healthy for him that he slipped out of thé camp. Who
would remember me with a ‘token’ on account of that,
unless’’—~and here the scout’s face brightened with a sud-
den thought—‘“unless it was Okay’s pretty little daugh-
ter, Milly?” ;

The scout fell back in his chair once more, and con-
tinued smoking his cigar.

“No doubt it was Milly,’ he proceeded, “but Wagon
Wheel is a long way from Nugget Notch, and how was
Milly able to get the card and the ‘token’ to this hotel?
She did not send them by mail, and if she had brought
them in person she certainly would not have gone away
without having a little visit with Nomad and me. No
she didn’t bring these herself. She must have sent them
by a messenger, and the messenger dropped them down

 

*See
snared ;

BuFFato. BILL

Stories, No. 361,
or, The Witch

of the

“Buffalo Bill En-

Painted Desert.”

in here when Jim’s ear wasn’t at the key-

PILL SS TORLES:

on the desk in the office and then went away. I reckon
the——”

The scout’s talk with himself was suddenly inter-
rupted. A voice floated in through the open window.
“Hi, thar, Buffler !”

The scout leaned through the window and looked
down. His trapper pard, Old Nomad, was standing be-
low. The trapper had seen the scout at the window. It
was quite clear that Nomad, having something of, im-
portance on his mind, was in a hurry, and that he did
not care to waste time coming through the hotel and up
to the scout’s room. ;

“What's up, Nick?” asked the scout.

“Ve’re wanted, pard, an’ on ther run.’

“What for?’

The pards had enjoyed two peaceful days at Wagoii”
Wheel, and the scout kad no knowledge of anything that
would disturb the serenity.

“Martin, a deperty marshal, jest blew inter camp an’
wants ye, Buffler.”

“In a rush?”

“Thet seems ter be ther size 0’ et.”

“All right, Nick; Vl come at once.’

Buffalo Bill started up and secured his hat. Whether
or not he would have need of his revolvers he did not
know, but he took the belt from the bedpost and buckled
it about his waist.

As he was on the point of leaving, he suddenly remem-
bered the card and the “token.” Going back to the table,
he opened a drawer, swept the card and the packet into
the drawer, and closed it,
door of the room behind him.

As he gained the stairway and started down, the door-
way of a room opposite his opened, and the sly, face of
Jim Fong showed itself.

The Chinaman listened craftily until the sounds of
footsteps had died away, then, still in his bare feet, he
stepped clear of the vacant room and went to the scout's
door.

He had heard the grating of the key and the throwing
of the bolt, so he knew the. door had ‘been locked.

But Jim Fong was equal to the emergency.

From somewhere about his capacious blouse he drew
a piece of bent wire. After a few minutes of maneuver-
ing, he contrived to throw the bolt and to gain entranve
to the room.

Now, in spite of all this craftiness, Jim Fong was
not a bad Chinaman. He had a tremendous Hae
and this led him to keep track, as well as he could,
the private affairs of the guests at The Colonel’s oo
But it was nothing more than a morbid curiosity.

Had he been inclined to ‘theft, he could have kept that
card and “token” from Buffalo Bill and never delivered
oA Jim Fong wanted to see was the contents of the
little package. Having satisfied himself in that rega ard,
his intention was to leave the.scout’s room just as he had
found it.

Such curiosity, of course, is liable to get a person into
difficulties ; and the crack of doom was hovering over the
misguided Jim Fong

Hurrying into the room, the Chinaman pushed his
head through the window and looked down the street.
The scout and the trapper were not in sight. It had
taken Jim so long to open the door#that the two pards,
who, as has already appeared, were in a ao had got

 

Then he went out, locking the

a4

 
 

 

 

TRE BUPRALO

*

to ae they were heading for, or had turned out of
the main thoroughfare.

Jim drew back from the window sat looked around.
The card and the package had vanished. A horrible fear
took possession of the Chinaman for a moment: Had
the scout thrust them into his pocket before going out? ~

The next instant -Jim’s fears vanished in a knowing

“smile. A blue calico cover lay over the table, and,one
side of this was slightly disarranged. Jim thought of

the drawer, in his cunning, Oriental way, and reached ©

under the drapery afd pulled it open. Ah! The card
and the package lay under his glimmering eyes. ,

-~\ Ten minutes later a gong sounded in the hotel office.
_ That was a summons for Jim Fong, but the summons
_. was not answered.

' Again and again the clatter of the gong echoed
through the log “hotel, but nevermore was it to be an-
swered by the ‘luckless Jim Fong with his ie patter
of “Awri’.”

CHAPTER LE
THE DEPUTY MARSHAL’S WARNING.

“You haven't any idea what the deputy marshal wants
to see me about?” the scout asked his old pard, as they
hurried along the straggling main street of the town.

“Nary, Bulfler, < answered Nomad. “He’s in ther doc-
tor’s. hands, at ther ae speakin’——”

“The doctor’s hands! Is he hurt?”

“Some pizen cimiroon threw/a bullet inter his arm.
Ef et hadn't been fer thet, Buffer, Martin would hev
come ter ther kunnel’s hang-out fer a powwow oy ye.
Hyar’s whar we climb.” ,

Two-story buildings were scarce in Wagon Wheel.
There were only two in the settlement. The Colonel’s
- Own was one, ‘and the building before which Nomad
just halted was the other. It was a slab stricture with
an outside stairway leading to the second floor. The
_lower part of the building was a general store.

Reaching the top of the stairs, the two pards- turned
into the doctor’s office.

That worthy, in his shirt-sleeves, and with his arms
bare to the elbows, was working over the deputy mart-
shal.

The latter sat in a chair near a window. He was
stripped to the waist, and his left arm was stretched out

** On a table.

There was a bullet in the arm, and the doctor was
probing for it. The operation must have been exceed-
ingly painful, but through it all the deputy marshal was
smoking a cigar, and gave only an occasional wince
to show that he was conscious of what was going on.

The doctor nodded to the scout, whom he had seen
‘on the streets of Wagon Wheel and knew slightly.

“Howdy, Buffalo Bill,’ said Martin, with a rueful
look at the scout. “I had to have this arm attended to,
and that was the reason I couldn’t come to the hotel.”

“How did you get hurt?’ asked Buffalo Bill, taking
a chair facing the deputy. i

VIM tell vou that later... Pirst-off; Id like te have
you tell me something about that affair of yours with
Okay, up Nugget Neggch way.

“Pretty nearly pe Vel yp eny knows about that, Martin.’

e

Bib SS rORLE 3

“Sure, but I want to see if I’ve got it right. A gam-
ee by the name of Darrel has it in for Okay, hasn’t

ee

By Gee.

“Why

“Well, 1 don’t ioe as ‘Ons is very anxious to have
the reason known, but [ll tell you, with the understand-
ing that what I say goes no farther. Okay has a brother,
a sailor, and this brother sent him a long envelope, tied
around with tape, and sealed, and asked Okay to take
charge of it and keep it safely. In some manner, Darrel
found out about that envelope, and evidently he knows
what it contains. He tried to get the envelope from
Okay, and that was what caused the trouble.”

“Darrel didn*t get the envelope?”

NOR

“Mainly because you and Nomad took a.hand in the
game?”

“That had something to do with it, I suppose.”

“And because of the part you took in the game, Darrel
has got it in for you good-and proper?”

“Naturally he doesn’t feel very amiable toward me.”

“I should say not!’ exclaimed Martin, grinding his
teeth on the cigar as the doctor’s probe went deep. “Do
you know that Darrel was at the Ten-mile House last
night?”

“Waugh!” interjected Nomad, stirring angrily. “Ll
reckon, Buffler, ther pizen whelp is on our trail.’

The scout’s face did not change its caprcesion by so
much as a line.

“I didn’t know he was at the Ten-mile House, Mar-
tin, “said: hess Whatvon itr:

“I was coming past there, shortly after midnight,”
proceeded Martin, “when I was halted by a miner, who
said a gambler had robbed him in the place. And it was
a case of robbery, pure and simple. The gambler had
used a table ‘hold-out’ in his game with the miner, and
the miner had grabbed it. As a rule, I never help a.
man who loses his money at cards, but I happened to
know this miner and so I felt a call to interfere.

‘When I went into the Ten-mile House the miner
pointed out to me a roughly dressed, full-bearded indi-
vidual who, he said, was the blackleg that had cheated
him. I walked over to the gambler and took his sizing.
Then my interest began to deepen.

“In spite of the fellow’s rough clothes he had hands
as white and soft as a woman’s. I knew in a minute that .
he was disguised, and/that there was something wrong
with him. I showed him the hold-out and told him he
had better give: back the miner’s money and save trouble.
My left hand was on the butt of a six-shooter as I threw
down the ‘hold-out’ with my right.

“But that gambler was chain-lightning, I’m _ telling
you. He had a pocket-gun, and before you could bat an
eye he had pulled trigger and sent a bullet into my left
arm. Then, throwing himself across the table in front
of him, he ‘closed with me.

“In the struggle, his full beard came away and _ his
hat was knocked off. The man, Buffalo~Bill, was Dirk
Darrel. Everybody in the room seemed to take Darrel’s
part. A crack on the head wiped out my knowledge of
what was going on, and when | corraled my wits, the
miner had me outdoors by the well, throwing cold water
into my face. As soon as I could I went back into the
Ten-mile House, but Darrel had vanished.”

“That's interesting, Martin,” said the scout. “I. only

 
4 | THE

hope you haven’t made any mistake, and that tl Darre!
is on my trail.’

“You hope so?” returned the wondering deputy.

The scout nodded. '

“T have an account with Darrel,’ he went on, “and I
have been hoping he would lay his trail to cross mine.
Now it looks as:though we should not be long in getting
together, and the quicker we can bring this personal mat-
ter to an issue the Lee I'll be suited.”

“Kerect!” exclaimed Old Nomad, sitting back in) his
chair with a long br eath of satisfaction. ‘“Thet pizen
kyard-sharp hes got somethin’ comin’, an’ I’m gladder’n
blazes he’s goin’ ter collect et.”

A grim smile flickered over the old trapper’s face.

‘‘A\ Hindu servant, by the name of Hadj Mahal, tray-
els with Darrel,” continued the scout. “Did you see the
fellow at the Ten-mile House, Martin? He couldn't
have disguised himself so you wouldn’t have known
him.”

“T didn’t see the Hindu, Buffalo Bill,” replied Martin,
“but the proprietor of the hang-out, in order to square
himself with me, told me everything he knew about
Darrel. He said that Darrel had sent the: Hindu into
Wagon Wheel, for something or other. I laid for the
Hindu on the trail, but he must have got wind of what
happened, I reckon, for he never showed up. My arm
to hurting, so I spurred on to the camp. I saw
Nomad, as I was coming up the stairs for an interview
with our sawbones friend”—here the deputy grinned at
the doctor—‘and I told him to send you here as quick
as he could. 1 didn’t think it weil to lose any time letting
you know that Darrel is in this neck of the woods.”

“Um obliged to you, Martin,” said the scout, getting
up, “I was expecting ate like this, however, and
ever since Nomad and I left Nugget Notch we have been
waiting for Dirk Darrel to show his hand. He’s cunning
and courageous, but a more inhuman scoundrel I have
never run across. Hope you won't have any trouble on
account of that arm.”

“T reckon he won’t now, Buffalo Bill,’ remarked the
doctor. “Here’s the black pill that put his arm on the
retired list

As he spoke, the doctor dropped a bullet on the table.

“A thirty-eight,” muttered the scout, eying the little
sphere.

“It didn’t even smash a bone,’ continued the doctor.
“In a couple of weeks the arm will be as well as ever.”

“Tchope so,’ said:the scout. “Adios, Martin.”

He started for the door, followed by Nomad.

“T'd like to have a hand in whatever trick you pull off,
Buffalo Bill,” Martin called after the scout. ‘I’m not
feeling any too amiable toward Dirk Darrel myself. If
you get a chance at him, let me know.”

The scout assured the deputy marshal that he would,
if circumstances made it possible, and the two pards
trooped down the stairs to the street.

“Now, Buffler,” remarked Nomad, as they headed back
toward the hotel, “I reckon we kin begin ter look fer
underhand plays. I don’t reckon this hy ar kyard-sharp
ever dealt a straight game in his miser’ble life.”

“He’s a queer compound of brutality, trickery, an
courage, Nick,” returned the: scout. “He looks like
milksop, but a man’s looks were never more deceiving.’

“Et’s plain, I take et, thet he’s passed up thet thar
dockyment of Okay’s, an’ thet all he’s pinin’ fer, now, is
ter eit even we We; Us, an’ Comp’ny.”

got

BUFFALO .

BILL STORIES.

“That’s the way it looks—and I’m giad of it. While
Darrel is busy with us, Nick, he isn’t pestering Okay
and his daughter Milly. By the time we're done with
him’ —and here Buffalo Bill’s lower jaw snapped omi-
nously—‘“I don’t believe he'll be in condition to pester
anybody.’ eae

“No guess erbout thet,’ chuckled the old trapper. “We
coutdn’t do ther kentry a better sarvice, Buffler, than by
snuffin’ out thet pizen: fiend of er Darrel. Whar ye
goin’ 2” :

“Back to my room. I received a little present from an
‘admirer’—whatever you call that—and I was just about
to open it when you called me. Come up with me and
well see what it is.”

“Whoosh” rallied’ Nomad, with a wink, “some mo-w ,
harrie, Buffler, must be sendin’ ye her. regyards.”

“Tf it’s any moharrie it’s Milly Okay. But we'll know,
pretty’ soon.”

When they had mounted the hotel stairs and traversed
the corridor to the scout’s room, Buffalo Bill was sur-
prised to discover that the door was open.

“This is odd;”. he muttered; “I closed and iocked the
door and I have the key in my pocket.”

“What's this hyar?” asked Nomad, reaching down at
the threshold and-picking up a piece of bent wire.

“Some one used that to pick the lock,’ answered the
scout, an apprehensive look crossing his face,

He stepped into the room. The pipe, which he had
thrown at Jim Fong, lay in front of him, and he kicked
it aside. His eyes passed to the table.. The drawer was
open. The paper in which the packet had been wrapped
lay on the floor.

And on the floor, huddled in a lifeless ‘heap, lay also
Jim Fong.

He was dead, and the scout’s “present” was clasped in
one of his hands.

CHAPTER I

THE FATAL MATCH-CASE,

muttered the startled trapper...
happened o ther Chink, Buffler ?”’

“Waugh!” “Whatever
“That’s a conundrum,’ answered the puzzled SCout:
Mere ain't a pleasant color, not noways.”’

The trapper was right in this. The Chinaman’s face
and hands had turned a bluish-black. So recently had
he met his end that rigor mortis had not yet set in.

i

'He was a pretty good Chinaman, as Chinamen go,”
remarked the scout. “The only trouble with Jim was that
he was too inquisitive: He brought up that. present to
me, and he was wild to see what it was. He_Jeft the
door open when he went out, and then he crept-back alone
the hall and looked in. I.threw one of your ae at
him, Nick.

“He on’y waited till ye got out o’ ther room, Butler,
in order ter snoop in hyar. (ecused, thet pices” er
twisted wire ter pick ther lock; then he found ther
package, undid et, an ee what's thet he’s got
a-holt of ?” ’

Nomad bent down with ihe intention of. releasing the
ee from Jim Fone’s fingers. The scout, however,
erabbed the old man before he cotild carry out his in-

ention.

t¢

 

 
 

  

THE BUPEALO

  

  

“Easy, there, Nick!’ cried the scount warningly.
“There’s no doubt, in my mind, but that the thing the
Chinaman is holding was what caused his death. Let’s
look at it carefully before we lay hands on it.”
. “Et. looks Ipke er match-case, Buffler,”
Nomad.

With the end of his revolver the scout. ‘poked at the
silver trinket until it fell from the Chinaman’s limp
hand. The match-case, if such it was, had been opened
by Jim Fong. As it dropped on the floor a card fell
out of it—a card about'the size of the one that had been
brought to Buffalo Bill with the little packet.

“Waal, . miittered Nomad, “thar’s er key ter ther mys-
tery, I reckon,”

The scout picked up the card. It bore a communica-
tion in the same neat handwriting inscribed on the other:
one.

hazarded

“When Buffalo Bill opens this match-case he dies,”
ran the writing, which the scout read aloud for Nomad’s
benefit, “The serpent’s fang is filled with a deadly
poison from India, a poison which acts. so quickly that I
doubt whether Buffalo Bill will have time to read this
before he cashes in. Yet I hope that the King of Scouts
will be able to read it, so that he may know that Dirk
Darrel never forgets his debts.”

A tigerish look crossed the old trapper’s face.

“Then et was thet low-down blackleg,” he breathed.
“He’s up ter his old tricks. “Course he reckoned, Buf-
fler, thet he’d be safe. in assumin’ ye’d git thet packet an’
open et. Blame’ lucky thing I called ye away afore ye
had er chancet ter investigate. Man, man, but I wisht
I had Darrel under my hands this blessed minit!”

From the fierce look the trapper ‘wore there is’ no
doubting what would have happened to the cunning
blackleg had he been anywhere within reach.

Just then the scout’s attention was entirely taken up
with the fatal match-case. Jim Fong’s inquisitiveness
had saved Buffalo Bill’s life. Had not the Chinaman
been beforehand with him, on his return from the doc-
tor’s office with Nomad the scout would surely have
investigated the “token” and have met the Chinaman’s
fate.

Still on his knees, the scout aontinied his investiga-
tion of the “token,” being very careful to use the point
of his forty-five. :

After allowing the card to spill out, the top of the
‘match-case had partly closed. The revolver-muzzle was
used by the scout to push it wide open,

As the top went back, a curved-white prong, but little
larger than a knitting-needle and tapering to a point,
shot out of the matelis -case, tapped against the revolver-
muzzle, and dropped out of : sight again, |

Nomad drew a quick breath.

“What sort of an infernal thing is thet: ” he asked,
through his teeth.

“That i is the serpent’s fang,’ explained the scout, lift-°
ing the revolver and looking at the barrel. “Look at the
point of the gun,” he went on, holding up the weapon
for his pard’s inspection.

What Nomad saw was a tiny black oP of fluid on the
blued steel.

“Waugh! Et must be powerful strong ef no more
than er drap kin lay out er man as et laid out Jim Fong.”
a hat is what did the work for the Chinaman, ‘all

&

colonel,”

BILL STORIES. 5
right,” returned Buffalo Bill, indicating the forefiacer
of Jim Fong’s hand. “When he opened the match- -case,
the fang shot out and dug its point into his finger, get-
ting the drop of poison into his blood. This is some of
the Hindu’s work,” he finished, with a black look, eG

“Darrel was behind et, Bufler.”

“Of course he was behind it; Hadj Mahal is only his
tool. You remember what Martin just told us about the
Hindu?”

‘“Meanin’ which, pard?’ ;

“Why, the proprietor of the Ten-mile House told
Martin that the Hindu had been sent in to Wagon Wheel
by Darrel. He was sent to the camp to leave Mie packet
and the card that accompanied it in the office of the hotel,
for me.’

“Darrel ain’t no better’n a
scowled Nomad. “He ain’t as good, kase a rattler ‘buzzes
a watnin’. Darrel strikes without warnin’, He'd give ye
ther glad hand with one, fist an’ knife ye with the other.”

“He's no better than an assassin,” agreed Buffalo Bill.
“Go over to the doctor’s office and have him come here
—Martin, too,.1i he’s able. On your way, stop in the
office and tell the colonel to come up.

Nomad left the room hurriedly to carry out his orders.

Buffalo Bill, understanding that it was best to leave
everything just as he had fo und it, took a chair by the
window and waited for those he had sent for to come.

First to arrive was the colonel. Colonel Hawkins,
the proprietor of the hotel, was a fat, middle-sized man,
and he had come so quick ly to the scout’s room that he
was puffing like a grampus.

“So Jim Fong’s done up, hey?” he wheezed, standing
in the middle of the room and resting his startled gaze
on the sprawled-out ficure of the Chinaman. “T been
hammerin’ the gong fet him fer a hull half-hour, but I
didn’t reckon anythin’ like this had took place. Jim was
honest, in the main, but there wasn’t much dependin’ on
him, Sometimes he’d answer the gong, an’ sometimes
he wouldn’t—jest as he happéned ter feel. What hap-
pened ter him, Cody?”

“T’ve sent for the doctor and the

replied the scout. «They'll be
while, and then. I'll tell the lot of you al
to discover.”

An old newspaper lay on the table. Buffalo Bill tore
off a piece, carefully wiped the muzzle of his revolver,
then set fire to the paper and burned it in the wash-bowl.
He finished by scratching another match and burning’
over the spot on the revolver-muzzle where the fang had
dripped its poison.

The colonel, sitting in a near-by chair,
ously.

By the time the scout had finished, the doctor and
Martin arrived—the latter a trifle pale and carrying his
left arm in a sling.

Nomad had been telling them something on the way to
the hotel, and from this both the doctor and the deputy
had a pretty fair idea of what had happened.

Stooping down beside Jim Fong, the doctor felt his

snake .in ther grass,’

deputy marshal,
de here in a little
1 I have been able

watched curi-

pulse, laid a hand on his heart, ‘bent low and looked

keenly into his wide-open eyes, then fin ally gave close
attention to the skin of his face and hands.

“He’s a gone Chink, all right,’ _temarked the doctor,
starting up. “‘Poisoned, I take Ite:

“He got er leetle dose thet was intended fer Buffler,”
spoke up the old trapper

 
THE BUFFALO

This called for an explanation, which was made-by
Buffalo Bill. Beginning at the point where the China-
man had come into his room with the packet and the
card, the scout followed down through the series of
events that had led to Jim Ifong’s undoing.

Getting down on his knees, just as he had done before,
the scout pushed back the top of the match-case with: the
muzzle of his revolver. The white fang shot out and
left its drop of poison.

The doctor carried the weapon to the light and gazed
at the small drop with deep interest. Finally, picking
up the card that had accompanied Buffalo Bill’s ‘“pres-
ent,’ he scooped the drop off upon it.

“Tm going to take that back to my office for further
investigation,’ he said.

“Be careful, doctor,” warned the scout. “It’s a little
the quickest thing in the poison line that I ever heard
Ole

“Tm not going to take any: chances, you can bet on
that,” said the doctor grimly. “What I’m going to do

vith this sample of poison is entirely in the interest of
science. You're the fellow to look out, Buffalo Bill. Vd
hate to have a cunning and treacherous scoundrel like
this Darrel camped on my trail. If you don’t want that
match-case, [ll

“That was presented to me, doctor,” cut in the scout,
“and I couldn’t think of giving it away.”

With the muzzle of the revolver he tapped the lid of
the case shut, then picked up the case, put it in his
pocket, and cleaned his'revolver as he had done before.
“Vil leave you gentlemen to attend to Jim Fong,” said
he, “for Nick and I have got to ride.”

“Where are you going 2 asked Martin.
“Ten-mile.”’ i
“Tl go with you

“No, you won't, Martin,” said the doctor decisively.
“You're going home and stay there, for a while, at least.
You're not fit for saddle-work.”

This was aa intense disappointment to Martin. He,
likewise, had an_account to settle with Dirk- Darrel, and
was eager to ride with the two pards.

Yethe could do no more than accompany Buffalo Bill
and Old Nomad to the town corral and see them off on
their trail.

a)

CHAPTER,
THE EXPRESS PACKAGE.

Buffalo Bill and Old Nomad wasted two days at the
Ten-mile House. Neither Dirk Darrel nor the Hindu
were claiming the hospitalities of the tavern when the
two pards reached there.

From what Martin had said, the scout thought the
Ten-mile House might be the gambler’s headquar ters
while he was in that part of the country. Because of this
idea, the scout and the trapper stayed two days at the
place, lying low and hoping that Darrel might ee
But he did not.

“Old Man Hickum,” as the owner of the Ten“fnile
House was called, was a wily graybeard, and bore an un-
enviable reputation. So far as Martin knew, Hickum
had taken no active part in the assault which had been

BILL STORIES.
made on the deputy, yet certainly Hickum must have
passively countenanced it.

The tavern was a halting-place for teayeler: en route
between Fort Apache and Wagon Wheel; it was also a
general round-up place for all the miners, cattlemen, and
representatives of the rougher element in the neighboring
hills.

However, while the scout and the trapper were hold-
ing the whip-hand over Old Man Hickum, and waiting
in his place for some sign of the whereabouts of Darrel,
none of the roistering, devil- -may-care element put in an
appearance.

The scout was glad of a If Darrel had any Fe Gids
in those parts, and Hickum managed to give them a line
on the pards’ business, there would’ undoubtedly have
been trouble. The scout was seeking trouble, but with
Darrel alone; and, while he would not have dodged any
exgitement that might have been stirred up by Darrel’s
friends, he did not intend to go out of his way to find it.

In the afternoon of the second day Buffalo Bill and
Old Nomad, profoundly disgusted by their lack of luck,
saddled their horses and headed back toward vee)
Wheel.

“When ye come ter simmer ther thing down, Buffler,”
said the trapper, “Dirk Darrel must hev had: ther ‘et
fer two days, thet his snake-tooth matchbox had k
ye out stiff. Thinkin’ he’s given you yer ticket ter’
dom come,’ an’ got yer started, et’s shore reasonable ee
think he wouldn't hang eround these parts none. Thet
kyard he put in ther match-box was a dead give-away on
Darrel.” i;

“He was so anxious to have me know that he was the
one who engineered that bit of treachery,” returned Buf-
falo Bill, “that he did not hesitate to acknowledge it on
the card.”

“Ther fact thet he did thet, Buffler, would be enough
ter make him pull out fer parts unknown, right arter ther
Hindu left thet thar ‘token’ fer ye at ther hotel, wauldn’ -
eli.

“There’s no telling what Dirk Darrel would do. | We
can't size him up and forecast his actions as we would
do with any one else. Then, you know, Nick, the fact
remains that he didn’t ‘ pel mer

“But he ‘got’ ther Chink. I’ve knowed fellers ter git
hung even fer killin’ er Chink.” -

“From all this, I suppose, you mean to argue that Dar-
rél and Hadj Mahal must have taken themselves off ::and
that, thinking the authorities will be after them for doing
me up, they'll be very careful not to let their where-
abouts be known?”

“Thet’s ther notion I’ve corrafled, Buffler.” We couldn’ t
find their pizen varmints at ther Ten- mile House, an’ I
don’t reckon we'd be able ter spot ’em ef we went over
these hyar hills with er Se They ve ; ducked
good an’ plenty.”

“It may be you're right, Nick, but it won’t do to bank :
on it. Time will tell what Darrel is doing.” oe

This, then, was the highly unsatisfactory condition at :
affairs when the two pards rode into Wagon Wheel at -
the close of their two days’ fruitless attempt to locate the
murderous gambler. :

Leaving their horses at the town corral, hey Apoeceded
at once to The C&onel’s Own, had their supper, and,
afterward, started for the front of the hotel to smoke.
Hawkins met them just then, and handed the scout a bist

manila envelope, plastered with a eSs- company seals. :

‘
a

 
  
  

VS he OD

es

 

 

 

 

 

“Thats ster “you, Buffler. Bill,” said the Colonel.

| “Wells-Fargo toted it from Nugget Notch, an’ it was
_ dumped down in camp by the afternodn stage.”

“Drap et, pard!” admonished Nomad excitedly. “Meb-
byso et’s another “token of esteem’ from ther kyard-
sharp.” }

The scout smiled a little at his old pard’s vehemence.

“We ll go up-stairs, Nick,’ he answered, “and talk it
over.’

The trapper dropped in behind the scout and followed
apprehensively to the foom on the second floor. After

4a lighting a lamp, the scout pulled the window-shade down

and took a chair. :
“Ef I was you, Buffler,” said Nomad earnestly, “I’d
handle thet thing with er pa’r o’ _ tongs. Like es not

et’ll explode and wipe us both out.”

“Be reasonable, Nick,” said Buffalo Bill, “According
to the theory you propounded while we were riding in
from Hickum’s, Darrel has taken to the woods, imbued
with the idea that he has settled for me. Now, if that
is the case, Darrel could not have sent this from Nugget
Notch, and certainly he could not have sent anything to

me, for he wouldn't have the least idea that I would be

alive to receive it.”
The force of this reasoning impressed the trapper.
“Waal, ye’'re right, as usual, Buffler,” he answered,
“but open ther thing keerful, anyways.’
The scout cut the string with his knife, then slid the
knife-blade through the end of the envelope.

out, togther with a smaller one.

The larger of the enclosures had pieces of tape attached
to it by. wax seals, but the tape had been cut. and the
envelope opened.

“Did you ever see this before, Nick?’ ’ queried the sur-
prised ‘scout, holding up the enclosed envelope.

“Shore !” averred ‘the trapper. “Thet’s ther dockyment
Okay’s brother sent ter him an’ wanted him ter keep;
ther one Darrel tried ter git.

Jim Fong would hev been.”

“Let's get at this thing logically, Nick,” said Buffalo
Bill. “This other envelope is addressed to me, plainly
enough, and in a woman’s hand.”

He picked up the smaller envelope, studied its face a
moment, and then tore it open. It contained two letters,
one of which was addressed to the scout, and ran as fol-
lows:

“Dear Frienp: You will see by the other letter con-
tained in this envelope that we have at least heard from

my sailor uncle concerning that valuable document which
my father cared for almost. at the expense of his life. '

All the ‘papers in the case are sent to you, so that you
may read them, and, 1f possibile, help us get at the secret
of ‘the Hat and the Davee Because of Darrel’s brutal
treatment, my father is very ill at his cabin, and for
him to follow out my uncle’s request is not to be thought
of, at the present time. If we wait until my father is
well, then it may be too late. I, perhaps, could attend
to this, but I am not able to leave my father at the
present time. We are under great obligations to you and
Nomad, Buffalo Bill, and J wonder if you have the time
to help us unravel this mystery? You are the only man
I can, or wilk trust. Ifyou cannot help, please return
the papers te me, at the Notch. Thanking you for what
; %

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

us fer a spell.

Shaking
the envelope over the table, a second long envelope fell

Say, .sé¢ what's inside.
Blamed ef I ain’t as cur ‘ous ter see ther inside o’ thet as

 

you have already done fof us, and with kindest regards

to you and your old pard, I remain,

“Your friend, Mitty Oxay.”

“Why,” cried Nomad, “et’s from ther leetle gal her-
self. I ain’t surprised none thet Okay is laid up. What
Dirk Darrel done ter him would hev killed most men
out and out.”

“You're right about that, Nick,’ said Buffalo Bill.
“But Okay was strong and had a good constitution. I’m
sorry for him, though, and for Milly.”

“Milly is shore a fine gal. Et’s a wonder ter me, Buf-
fler, thet Darrel don’t take advantage of ’em while Okay
is knocked out.”

“Well, Darrel wanted the paper consigned to Okay’s
care by the sailor, and Darrel must have understood that
Okay had put it safely eagle his reach.’

“T reckon yere right.”
ite question is, Nick, are we going ; to help Milly and
her father in this particular business ?”

“Tm plum willin’. Milly an’ her dad aire sart’inly
deservin’ people.”

“But we're due at Fort Apache before long.” ‘

“I reckon ther gov’ ment won’t take no hurt waitin’ on
| Et ain't every day, Buffler, we git er
chancet ter help a gal like Milly Okay.”

“You echo my feelings to a t-y, ty.
Okays.”

“Go through the rest o’ them papers, Buffler,”
Nomad impatiently. “Kain’t ye see how I’m chamipin’
ther bit an’ side-steppin’? Let's see W hat. Milly means
by thet ree-mark erbout ther Hat an’ ther Dagger.”

Buffalo Bill picked up the other letter that had been
enclosed with Milly’s in the smaller of the two envelopes.

We'll help the

urged

CHAP LR:
THE HAT AND THE DAGGER.

“This other letter,’ said the scout, “was written by a
man’s fist. It is dated at Vera Cruz, Mexico, and is ad-
dressed to Phil Okay, Nugget Notch, Okay’s sailor
brother sent it. 7) ¢ :

“Reel et off, pard,’ said the trapper,
pipe and leaning back in his chair.

The scout did so without further delay.

relighting his

“DEAR Puit: The old hooker, on which T happen to
be mate, is laid up in this Oiler* seaport, waiting for a
cargo. While I was on shore-leave yesterday I found
out “something that makes me mighty anxious about that
document which I sent to you for safe-keeping some
months ago. Three Oilers la'd for me in a dark alley,
took me down, and one of them laid a knife’s edge at
my throat. They wanted to know what was in that ‘en-
velope I sent to you, and swore they'd cut my throat if
I didn’t tell. I gained a little time by talking with them,
and they had some talk among. themselves, I’m next to
the Oiler lingo, so their tale didn't get past me any.
From what they said, 1 discovered they were in the pay
of a chap named Darrel, and that Darrel knows about

 

*Oiler—Greaser; Mexican.
 

¢

   

8 CE Ur Eee
the envelope and is trying to ‘get it from you. Right in
the middle of the confab, some other sailors from the
hooker happened along, and I gave a yell to attract at-
tention. ‘he Oilers bore away, and I got back to the
ship without a scratch.

“But I’m badly worried, Phil. I wanted you to keep
that envelope until I could come to Nugget Notch and

‘we could see the deal through together. I reckon now
it ain’t safe to wait any longer; so, if you'll open the
envelope and carry out instructions, we ‘ll divvy up on
the proceeds. We've got to get ahead of this swab of
a Darrel, no matter whee ieecoste.::

“That’s all of the letter,” said the scout. “It was

Milly’s warrant for opening the other document.”

“An’ still et don’t explain nothin’ erbout ther Hat an’
ther Dagger,” remarked the old trapper. “I guess ye'll
hev ter read ther original dockyment ter found out erbout
them.”

“Anyhow,” observed Buffalo Bill, “the farther we go
the more interesting the subject becomes.”

“Keno, pard. Even ’way down in Mexico they got
wind o’ ther fact thet Dirk Darrel ts arter the sailor’s
vallyble paper.’ ce

“Darrel has a long arm,’ mused the scout,
to have men do his bidding in Vera Cruz.”

“Sf he’s able

He picked up the original envelope with its flapping

pieces of cut tape, and pulled out a paper, which he slowly
unfolded.

Nomad, deeply absorbed in the proceedings, leaned for-
ward with his elbows on the table and allowed his pipe
to go out again.

As the scout examined the paper, an expression of
disappointment ran through his face.

“What’s ther rip, Buffler?” queried Nomad, quick to
see the change in his pard.

“There isn’t much. here,
response.

“Nothin’ erbout ther Hat an’ ther Dagger?”

‘“There’s something about the Hat and the Dagger, but
nothing that explains what they mean.”

that’s all,” was. the scout’s

He laid the unfolded sheet on the table: What the
sheet contained was this:
“How to Find the Hat and the Dagger: There are

three peaks at the north end of the Opal Range. Get
these peaks in line from the north, then proceed north
or south until the white cross on Panamint Butte is in
plain view and due west. In this vicinity the Hat and
the Dagger will be found.”

“Waugh !” grunted Old Nomad. “Not er word erbout
what ther Hat an’ ther Dagger means.’

“The secret will probably be revealed when the. Hat
and the Dagger are found,” returned the scout.

“Looks like er fool’s chase by er couple er fools.”

The scout smiled,

“We’ve got to make the chase, all the same.”

“IT sabe thet, all tight, Buffler, but I wisht I knowed
évhat ther Hat an’ ther Dagger stands fer.”

“We'll find out before we’re many days older, Tum-
ble in and get a good night’s rest, old pard. We start
for the north end ef the Opal Range i in the morning.”

“Ef this hyar sailorman is playi in’ hoss with us, ” said
Nomad, as he got up, “I’m goin’ ter camp on his trail:
jest ter show hin what er Bobble he made.”

PO. Bill STORIES:

sailor speaks erbout in his letter. |
“mout take ther Hat an’ give his brother ther Da

Ess

“He’s not playing horse with us, Nick. Just remem-
ber that this letter of his was to his brother. You don’t
think for a moment that the sailor would send his own
brother off on a wild-goose chase, do your”

“Et don’t seem possible, thet’s a fact.”

“And it isn’t. possible.” ‘

“Still, et kain’t be much of er ‘divvy,’ which same ther
I reckons ther sailor

Nomad, disappointed in not learning more about their
prospective work, was getting sarcastic. He strode out
of the room, opened the “door next to the scout’ S, went in,
and tumbled into bed.

Buffalo Bill, after his experience ath the match-case,
was on the alert for indications of further treachery. But...
this express package seemed bona fide, and, as such, en-
titled to confidence. Before he went to bed that night
the scout wrote a letter to Milly Okay, telling her that
the papers had come safely to hand, and that, halon she
received that letter, he and Nomad would be where they
could solve the mystery of the Hat and the Dagger. As
soon as they knew what these emblems meant, the scout
ae Milly that she would be fully informed. —

. This letter the scout posted with his own hand, then
Plater to the hotel and went to bed.

Next morning, early, he and the trapper made their
preparations for their trip. A week’s rations were to be ~
taken, together with water-canteens and a full supply of ©
cartridges for their six-shooters. No rifles were to figure
in the expedition. The scout was not expecting to meet
with any hostile foes, and it was his purpose to travel
light and make as quick a journey as possible.

- For several days the horses had had no hard work, and
they were in fine fettle and ready for a dash into the
desert. While the two pards were eating their breakfast,
the saddle-animals stood in front’of The Colonel’s Own,
full canteens at the horns and oe haversacks at the
cantles.

When the scout-and the trapper came out to mount, .
they found a third horseman waiting. He, likewise, was
equipped with canteen and rations. — ee a

“Hello, Martin!” exclaimed Buffalo Bill.
you bound for?”

“For the same place you flies are going—wherever
that is,” was the deputy marshal’s reply.

The scout and his trapper pard exchanged wondering
glances. Martin’s left arm still hung in a sling, and the
pallor had not yet gone out of his face.

It was not the scout’s wish to have a,third person
along. This work for the Okays was secret work, and,
while a knowledge of it might be safely guarded by the
deputy marshal, still the scout did not feel that x had
a right to let Martin accompany them. .

“How did you discover we were going to pull out?”
asked Buffalo Bill.

“I was at the corral this morning, shortly after you
left there with the horses, and the ‘corral boss told me
you and Nomad were off for some place. That wasn't
the whole reason I decided to go with you, though.”

“It’s going to be a long, hard trip, Martin,’

“T inferred that from the amount of supplies you were
taking along.”

“So hat da trip that 1’m fie you couldn’t stand it, e
proceeded the scout.

“Bosh! That's the kind of. wore I feud =k will be
just the tonic to put me on py feet. It’s sasy enough

A

“Where are

 
   
  
  

eS

: ‘party.’

%

\

for a doctor to tell a man to keep in bed, but it’s a hard

' dose for an active man to take.”

“Nevertheless, Martin, it may be an unwise move for

F you to make.”

“T know my own strength better than ‘he doctor,” per-
sisted the deputy. “I’m one-handed, but I can do a whole
lot with my right if we have a scrimmage.”

“There’ Il be no scrimmage, Martin. This isn’t a war-

Well,
Say! Don’t you

“No?” returned the deputy, wath a cool smile.
it may turn out to be one, all the same.
want: me along?) > y. «+

“It’s private business

Tape 1 see! ie

“And we're not after Darrel.”

“In spite of that, you may find that Darrel is after’
you.”

“TL think not.”

“Well, let me ride with you for a while and tell you
just why I’m determined to go. You may laugh at my
reason, but if you insist on my turning back, after I have
told you, why, I’ll about face without | a whimper.”

The scout nodded to Nomad, and they unhitched,
climbed into their saddles, and took the Weewward trail

BD}

 

- through the town.

 

 

 

thie

 
  
   
 
  

~ amounts to something.

As soon as they were sear of the camp, Martin picked
up the thread of his remarks.

“It was a dream,” said he laconically.

“A what?” Buffalo Bill straightened in his saddle
and gave the deputy a keen look to see whether he was

joking.

“Iehad a dream; Buffalo Bill” went on Martin, “and
that is why I am determined to go with you.’

Nomad snickered, and a humorous look crossed Buf-
falo Bill’s face.

“Iwas dead sure you'd Henin to josh,” said Martin
sheepishly, “but once in a while I have a dream that
It was.a dream that put me on
the track of “Funk’ Agnew, the smuggler. By following
up that dream I went straight to the place where Tank’
had concealed about a cord of cigars and a hundred
pounds of opium. Then, it was another nen that gave
me a line on——

“What sort of a dream did yoy have haut Nomad
and me?” laughed the scout.

“T had that. last night,’ pursued the deputy seriously.

“lt saw you and Nomad picking your way through the
hills; then-a ‘sort of cloud blotted you out, and I saw
a stretch of sandy plain; in the middle of the plain was
a“greaser sombrero—one.o’ those bell-crowned. straw
hats. The hat was as big as a house, and there was a
knife through the brim - pinning the sombrero to the
eround. [| could only see the handle of the knife, but
the handle was all of ten feet.long. There was some-

ing of a wind, and the hat was ‘blown up and down.
As it. lifted and fell,I saw the face of a man who was
crouching “under the hat, and it was the face - Dirk
Darrel!”

It would be difficult to decerite the feclines of the
two pards as they listened to this strange dream of the
deputy marshal’s. They stared at each. other, and the
laughter died out of their faces.

“T come of a family that have always had these dreams,
or visions,” continued th® deputy, notirg the impression
his words had made. “Sometimes they amount to some-
thing, and sometimes they don't.

a7

Lie oOP PALO: Bil STORIES.

Now, Buffalo Bill, I |

 

   

me 9

haven’t’the least notion what your business is, nor why
you are taking \this trip. You say it is private business,
and that Darret- has nothing to do with it. What I saw
in my sleep last night may have a bearing on the case,
and it may not, but I have a feeling that Dirk Darrel is
to be mixed up in the business arid I want to go along.
I owe Darrel something, as you know, and if hé is to
show up along your trail, I have a right to demand a
chance at him. Am I to go on with you, or am I to go
back? I am a government officer, Mr. Cody, and know
how to keep a still tongue in my head.”

“I’m not going to tell you anything about our busi-
ness, Martin,’ said the scout, “but your dream, I must

say, has a most remarkable bearing on the situation. -You
haven’t picked up a tip about this work of ours?”

“IT know absolutely nothing about it!’

As a matter of fact, the scout felt sure of this. The

papers sent to him by Milly Okay had not once been out
of his hands. They had been received the evening before,
and the start had been made in the early morning. Surely
it was an odd coincidence that Martin should have a
dream about a sombrero and a knife when the end and
aim of the expedition were to locate a Hat and a Dagger.

“Tf you feel strong enough,” said Buffalo Bill, “I shall
be glad to have you with us—on the understanding, of
course, that you are to say nothing about what we do.
It’s honest work, but the secret is not ours’

“You. may depend on me, Buffalo Billl!”’ answered
Martin.

CHAPTER VI.
APACH ES.

Buffalo Bill had made some general inquiries regard-
ing the route he and Nomad proposed to cover. He had
done this in such a manner as not to reveal their route,
yet, at the same time, to afford them such a knowledge
of the country as it was necessary to possess.

Ten miles from Wagon Wheel, at the desert’s edge,
there was a sinall spring. After leaving this spring there
would be no water short of the northern foot-hills of the
Opals.

The scout, therefore, had formed the plan of lying over
for the rest of the day by the spring at the edge Of the
desert, and crossing to the foot-hills of the Opal Moun-
tains during the night. By doing this, the blistering heat
of the sun would be avoided, and, as the nights were
always clear, there would be no difficulty in keeping the
right course.

“On the whole, perhaps it was a cy thing for the
two pards that Martin had had that ‘dream’ and formed
the resolve to accompany them. He was familiar with
the country, and knew the exact location of the water-
hole in the~foot-hills.

Martin agreed with the scout that it would be best to
hang out at the spring for the rest of the day, and cross
the desert to the Opals during the night.

It was about ten o’clock in “the morning when the little
party defiled through a rocky gulch and came to the
desert’s edge and to the spring. As te scout, who was
in the lead. came closer to the spring, he saw three
Apache Indians squatted on the ground near it.

At sight of the scout, the Apaches sprang up and

 

  
  

 

10. THE BUFFALO
hastily fitted arrows to their bowstrings. An arrow, with
its point steeped in rattlesnake venom, was the last thing
the scout wished to stop just then. While he lifted his
leit hand and gave the peace-sign, he jerked a revolver
irom his belt with his right. |»

Either owing to this move—which promised either
friendship or enmity—or to the sight of Nomad and Mar-
tin, who quickly trailed out from behind the rocks after
the scout, the Apaches dropped their bows and waited
for the white men to approach.

“A passel er pizen reds thet hes slipped erway from
ther Reserve,” muttered Nomad, turning a. disapproving
eye on the Apaches. “I don’t reckon they’re hyar fer
any good.”

“They're not here to bother us, anyway,” said Martin.

“Even if they were,” added Buffalo Bill, “we're: too
strong for them, Besides, an Apache can smell a six-

shooter a mile, and it goes a good deal toward making |

him peaceable.”

Buffalo Bill halted his horse and dismounted.

“How?” said one of the redskins, stepping up to him.

“Howe” the scout returned, taking the Indian’s hand.

The eyes of the Apaches were busy, taking in the three
white men and their equipment with flashifig, compre-
hensive glances.

3uffalo Bill.and his friends, well versed in the Indian
character, paid little attention to the warriors, but went
ahead with their camping preparations.

Haversacks, canteens, ‘saddle-blankets, saddles, and
bridles were thrown down in a heap beside the spring.

“You guard the plunder, Martin,” said Buffalo Bill,
with a significant look. at. the Apaches, “and Nick and
I will look up a place to put out the horses.”

All right,” the deputy answered.

For all to go off with the horses and leave the Indians
alone with the riding-gear and camp-truck would have
been an act of poor judgment. The Apaches had no
firearms and no horses, and Martin, even with only one
good hand to wield a six-shooter, would have no trouble
keeping the reds in subjection.

The scout did not intend to picket the horses very far
from the spring, for the Indians would like to get hands
on them even more than on the rest of the plunder.

Leading the horses away, the two pards prospected a
narrow, gully with steep sides. (This gully led off the
main gulch, and proved to be a. veritable cul-de-sac.
Running for a hundred yards straight into the hill, the
gully came to an end at a sheer wall of tock.

There was a scanty growth of grass in the gully bot-
tom, anda small chaparral of mesquit-bushes.

“Reg’lar corral!” exclaimed Nomad, looking around.
“The sides 0’ this hyar gash aire so: steep no hoss could
climb out ef he wanted ter. No need o’ picketin’ er hob-
blin’, Buffler, Ther mouth o’ ther gully ain’t over thirty
feet wide an’ we kin stretch two’ of our ropes actost et.’

“We couldn’t have had a better place if it had been
made to order,” said Buffalo Bill.) “After we had put
out the horses, I was intending to leave you to guard
them, but now it won’t be necessaty. The Apaches won’t
be able to raid our live stock, except by getting into the
eully by way of the gulch, and we can easily watch
the mouth of the gully from the spring.”

“Uda heap ruther we hadn’t found them thievin’ var- |

mints, though,” growled Old. Nomad. “We'll hey ter
be watchin’ continual, an’ when we leave ther spring

PRET STORIES =

they'll foller us like so many buzzards. The quicker we Ill

  

eit back ter ther spring an’ order ‘ein off, ther better.”

The scout understood the importance of getting rid
of the Apaches fully as much as Nomad, but merely
ordering them off wouldn’t accomplish the purpose.
Such a move would arouse the hostility of the three red-
skins, and cause them to hover around in the hills, await-
ing an opportunity for reprisal.

Turning the horses loose, the two pards retraced their
way to the motith of the gully. “Two of the iron picket-
pins were driven into crevices of the rocks, on each side,
and a rope stretched across: ‘A second rope, tied to
projecting stones, was likewise drawn across below the
first one. ' tae Ae

Congratulating themselves on having secured their
saddle-animals where they. need not be watched, and
could not be tampered with, the pards started back
through the gulch to the spring.

The spring was in plain view, but the gulch-wall cut
off the sloping ground to the north of it. It was to the
north of the spring that the saddles and provisions had
been piled. .So it chanced. that not until they had left
the mouth of the gulch were they aware that matters
had gone wrong with the deputy marshal.

The scout was a little in the lead of Nomad. The
trapper heard his pard mutter a startled exclamation,
and saw him leap forward.

Another moment, and Nomad himself was aware of
the situation. - :

Martin lay flat on his back in the midst of the riding-
gear. This was all that could be seen from a distance,
but it was more than sufficient to fill the pards with mis-
giving, ot Ay

The Apaches had vanished.

When Buffalo Bill and Nomad reached the deputy’s
side, it was a relief for them to discover that their worst
fears were not realized,

Martin was unconscious, but his only wound was a
bruise on the right temple. His belt and revolvers were
gone, and so were the three bags of provisions.

“How dye reckon ther measly skunks got ther best
o’ Martin?” scowled Nomad.

“There’s ‘no use wasting any time talking about that
now,’ answered the scout, rising from the deputy’s. side
and staring across the gray stretch of desert. “The red
thieves have run off with our rations, and we'll have
to return to Wagon Wheel, unless. we can get them
back.” eee

There were no Indians to be seen actoss the desert,
and Buffalo Bill withdrew his gaze and swept it over
the neighboring hills. Shy

“Ther whelps couldn’t hey pulled out more’n a few
minits ago, Buffler,”’ said the trapper. - Se

“tf we can find out which way they went,” the scout
flung back, racing up the slope of the nearest hill, “I
can follow them.” 5 a

He wasn’t long in reaching the crest of the uplift, and
from this elevated position he had a good view of the
surrounding country. For a few moments his eyes saw
nothing; then, as his. keen gaze followed around the
foot of the hill to the north, he saw a lithe red body
dart from the shelter of a rotk-heap and disappear into
the mouth of a little valley between the hills.

No more tredskings followed*this one, and the scout
made up his mind that the one he had seen was the
last of the three. : Ne

 
  
  

   
     
   
   

_to the trapper.
Ptin, and keep watch of the gully.
overtake the red thieves and get back our provender.

left and another hill to the north.

 

“T’ye spotted them, Nick!’ Buffalo Bill called down
“You stay there and take care of Mar-
Ta See aid can’t

Ire

Without waititig for a reply, the scout crossed the hill-

'crest and hurried down the opposite slope.

CHAPTER VIL
A Bol GS GRP RS Bs,

Like Old Nomad, Buffalo Bill could not understand
how the three redskins had been able to get the best
of a trained fighter like the deputy sheriff. But the
explanation, as “the scout had told his pard, could wait
until Martin was able to make it. At that moment, the
matter of utmost concern was to recover the stolen food,
and thus avoid the delay of having to return to Wagon
Wheel.

Close to the foot of the hill, the scout ae the rock-/

heap from behind which the ‘Apache had dart@dinto the
valley. He followed the Apaches’ route, and was pres-
ently in the valley himself,

This valley lay between the hill the scout had just
Inasmuch as there
was nothing to’ be seen of the Apaches on the bare slope
of the second hill, it was a ‘natural inference that they
had kept to the circttitous valley.

The defile angled this way and that in serpentine
fashion; and was littered with piles of lavalike stones.
Stealing from one pile to another, the scout made his
way swiitly around the many turns, constantly peering
ahead for ‘some glimpse of the thieves.
~ In this manner he went half-way around the base of
the second hill without catching sight of any of the
redskins.

North of the hill the valley ran into a sort of dene

‘Fhe natural course for the*fleeing Apaches to take
would be along the defile, but the scout understood very
well that an Apache rarely does the things you expect
him to do. ,

North and west of the Sot hill was a ridge which
cut across the valley. Should the scout climb’ fae ridge,
or make his way along the defile?

He had about decided to scale the ridge, but stepped
into the mouth of the defile for a brief survey before
passing on to higher ground.

It was well for him that he did this." Seeing nothing
to arouse his suspicions along the defile, he lowered his
eyes to its bedi

The-bed was of rocks,’ ‘but a good deal of sand had
drifted in. The warriors, however, might be wise
enough to dodge the loose sand, and tread only where
no footprints would be left.

Buffalo Bill saw no tracks, but he saw ee else.
This. was a roasted chuckwallah—a desert lizard Swhich
the Indians eat and regard as a great delicacy.

He turned the chuckwallah over with his foot. There
was no doubt in his mind but that the roasted lizard had
formed a part of the Apaches’ food-supply, or that one of
the red thieves, burdened with a stolen haversack, had
dropped the. chuckwallah during the flight.

As the chuckwallah lay within the es to the de-

¢

  

‘THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. : as

file, it afforded proof that the Apaches had gone that
way.

Changing his mind as to the ridge, Buffalo Bill started
up the gash in the hills.

_Here there were no littering heaps of stone to screen
his advance, nor, on the other hand, to hide the red-

skins, should they chance to discover that he was on their

tral and \ lay’) tor ‘him,
Owing to its high walls, the big cut got little of the

sun, and was, for that reason, filled with semi-darkness.

Nevertheless, the scout’s eyes roved warily. about as he
advanced, and would instantly have detected a lurking
Apache.

For some distance the defile ran due north, then made
a sharp turn to eastward.

Approaching this turn cautiously, the scout got down

on his knees to reconnoiter before. passing’ it.

Here again he had reason to congratulate himself,

Less than a dozen yards beyond the turn he saw the
red pilferers, only there appeared to be four of them
now, instead of the original three.

Where had the fourth redskin come from?

This was a,puzzling question, and the scout did not
waste time trying to find an answer.

The Indians were squatted on the rocks, close to one
wall of ‘the defile, and were gnawing at some jerked
beef taken from one of the haversacks.

Pour redskins, all within revolver-range, did not deter
the scout. Whatever he did he would have to do
quickly.

Standing erect, he drew both revolvers from his belt,
then hurried around the turn, with a weapon in each
hand,

One of the redskins saw him, and sprang up with a
warning yell.

Crack ts

A -six-shooter barked spitefully, but it was not the
scout’s. For the moment, he had forgotten that Martin’s
belt and revolvers had been stolen, along with the food-
supply. An Apache had the revolvers, and he was using
one of them.

The bullet sang past altogether too close to Buffalo
Bills ear for conifort,

Then an arrow came purring through the air. The
scout flung himself to one side, and the murderous shaft
missed him by a hair.

But by then he was doing something for himself.
Both six-shooters spoke, and the: redskin who had taken
Martin’s guns flung up his arms and plunged head first
to the ground.

A second of the quartet was wounded in the shoulder.

The scout’s success spread panic. The wounded
Apache and the other two whirled about and dashed
along the defile, so wrought up that they did not halt
even to launch.an arrow. —

One of them, however, hung onto a haversack. Buf-
falo Bill wanted that haversack, and concluded to keep
up the pursuit until he got it.

The Apaches were racing toward another bend in the
defile. As the scout plunged after them, firing now and

' again to let the Indians know he was still on their trail, a

thump of hoofs was wafted from around the next turn.
Buffalo Bill, fearing a reenforcement of mounted war-
riors, halted, leveled one of his Sey. and pulled
trigger.
The redskin who was carrying the Pca dropped

  
   
THE BUFFALO

 

his burden with a whoop of pain and caught at hi
wrist.
_ The scout leaped for a jutting rock, and crouched
there, ready to wage desperate battle, in case the ap-
proaching horsemen turned out to be redskins.
There was a big surprise in store for Buffalo Bill.

A horseman, with four unmounted cayuses strung on a

rope, galloped into sight,

“Great Scott!” muttered the scout, staring at the horse-
man as though he could hardly believe his eyes.

The man’s face was a light chocolate color. He wore
a black turban and a black robe, girdled at the waist
with a gaudy sash.. Through the sash were thrust a
brace of old-fashioned pistols and a curved knife.

This apparition pulled rein on discovering the fleeing
Apaches. Without loss of time, the Apaches clambered
to the backs of three of the led horses, cast off the lead-
rope, whirled about, and dashed around the turn.

The man with the turban called after them fiercely,
then dug in with his heels and followed, towing the

single horse that had been left.

“Hadj!” muttered the scout, getting up. and leaning
against the rock. “Hadj Mahal! Now, how under
heaven does Darrel’s Hindu happen to be here? And

why 4s he with these Apaches? Can it be that there
was anything in that dream of Martin’s apart from an
odd coincidence ?”

The scout was bewildered by the cotirse events were
taking.

. He wondered if the presence of the Hindu in that sec-
tion meant also that Darrel was anywhere in the -vicinity.

Could it be that Darrel, in some mysterious manner,
had learned of the express-package delivered to Buffalo

Bilt And did he infer that this.was\from Milly Okay,
and had something to do with that document Darrel had
tried so hard to get? If a supposition of this sort. was
correct, were Darrel and the Hindu following the scout
‘ with the intention of securing the Hat and the Dagger?

It was all very vague and unsatisfactory to Buffalo
Bill. He was inclined to think that Darrel had enlisted
the aid of these Indians, and was following him.

Baffled and perplexed, he went on to where the Apache
had dropped the haversack, picked it up, and returned
to the place where he had first surprised the /four In-
dians.

The Apache he had shot in self-defense had breathed
his last. Unbuckling Martin’s belt from the redskin’s
waist, the scout made it fast around his own, above his

belt. Then he picked up the revolver which the In-
dian had dropped, and jabbed it into the empty holster.
/ A few minutes later he was striding back toward the
Spring, burdened with the three provision-bags. He had
ample food for thought during that return journey.

Buffalo Bill was no believer in dreams, yet he could
not deny but that Martin’s’ dream had shaken his in-
credulity.

It will be remembered that the deputy had said he had
seen the face of Darrel looking out from under the big
sombrero conjured up during his sleep. Darrel never
went any place without Hadj Mahal; for the Hindu was a
hypnotist, and the cool-headed, steady-nerved gambler was
subject to fits which only a quickly induced condition of

hypnosis could avert. It was for this reason that Dar-
rel always had the Hindu near his side. ;

Being aware’ of this, Buffalo Bill felt almost certain
that Dirk Darrel must also be in that vicinity, If he

 

-must have been hiding somewhere in the rear. Any-

over from behind and grabbed the gun out of my hand.

BILL STORIES,

%

were, then the deputy’s dream would deal the scout’s in.
credulity another blow. ee,

Buffalo Bill’s thoughts, absorbing though they were,
did not prevent him from keeping vigilant watch of the
trail behind. But no pursuit was offered, and he finally
rounded the base of the hill and dropped the recovered
provender in the place from which it had been taken. _

The ministrations of the old trapper had brought Mar. |
tin back to his senses. He was sitting up, and had a
red cotton handkerchief tied about his forehead.

“Got ther chow, eh, Buffler?” exulted Old Nomad.

“Yes,” was the answer, “and Martin’s suns along with
it.” Buffalo Bill unbuckled the belt and dropped it at |
the deputy’s side. “How. do you feel, Martin?” he |
added. . :

“A bit hazy, Buffalo Bill,” answered the deputy, “but
I reckon I'll feel better after I have had something to,
eats: ce os
“I feel a trifle hazy myself,” said the scout, with a low
laugh. :

“Erbout what, fer instunce ?”’

pi ibexplain later, Nick.” ah 1

The scout knelt down beside the spring, and took a
long ‘drink.

“Get out some of the grub, pard,’ he added, return-
ing and seating himself beside the deputy. “While
we're eating, we'll talk. I’m anxious to hear how those
Apaches got the upper hand of Martin.”

A flush dyed the deputy’s bronzed face. _

“That was a tenderfoot-play, wasn’t it?” he asked, “I
suppose you think, Buffalo Bill, that if that’s a sample
of my ability, the quicker I point myself for Wagon
Wheel, the better,” .

"That’s where you are wrong, Martin,” said the scout,
laying a hand on the deputy’s arm. “We’re all liable to
make mistakes. No harm has come from #his one, and
it may be that a great deal of good will come out of
At

“What yer sayin’, Buffer,” spoke up Nomad, on his
knees and pulling food out of one of the haversacks, “is
er cornundum ter me,” <

"TlL-explain after Martin gets through, Nick,” said the
scout, taking a piece of bread and jerked beef which
the trapper handed to him. “Go on, amigo,’ he added
to the deputy.

   
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
   
 
 
 
   
     
   
   
 
   
  
 
   

queried the trapper.

CHAPTER Vili:
THE POURS WAP A'G H EL

“There were too many Apaches for me, Buffalo Bill,”
said Martin, also busying himself with the food, ‘“‘and
it was one I couldn’t see, and wasn’t ‘expecting, that
turned the trick,” rue

“Were there more than three?” asked the scout,

“Yes; a fourth came from somewhere behind, and.
took a hand. I had the other three in front of me, and

took pains to keep them there. The one I couldn’t see
how,’ the first thing I knew this fourth redskin reached
I had just time to look around and see him, when he

changed ends. with the revolver, and brought the butt
of it down on my forehead. That fixed me. I keeled

 
  

   

 

over and took no ectier Da hse in what was going on.

   
  

ins
If I had had two good hands, I might have done some-
re, thing, although I doubt it.

 

the P

uly
red

“When, I “opened my eyes, Nomad. was throwing
fwater into my face. He told me what the Apaches had
done, and how you had hit their trail, and was going
Biter them. We both thought you’d have your hands
full, for you had four reds against you, if you managed
to come up with them, and one of the scoundrels had my
guns.’

“Lo Tete that tourth redskin in a deep cut north of
here,” said Buffalo Bill. “He shook a load out of one
fof your guns, Martin, and it went past me, but alto-
gether too close for my peace of mind. Before he could
‘try again, I had to down him.

   
     
  
   
   
  
   
   

at 7
1e

  

it Mme “The other three got up and started to run. One of

0, 'them held:on toa haversack, That haversack was ours,
‘and I wanted it, so I gave chase. Just about the time

vo al winged the Apache and made him drop the grub-bag

fa man rode around a bend with four led cayuses. © That
man was Darrel’s Hindu, Hadj Mahal”
Nomad dropped his piece of beef and stared.
| “Ye-don’t mean et, Buffler?’ he exclaimed.
“Tt was that Hindu, as big as life,” averred the scout.
“Identifying a fellow like that is easy, Nick. I could
| tell who he was half a mile off.”
“‘What’s he doin’ hyar?”
“It’s a pretty safe guess that Darrel is with him, and
' that they're hiding out somewhere in the hills.”
~ But what fer?’
“At a guess, I should say Darrel found out his match-
case failed to do its expected work, and, also, that I
' had received an express package in Wagon Wheel last
night." It may be that*he imagines what was in that
| express package, and is trailing us.’
f : “What aire ther reds doin’ along with him an’ ther
Me Hindu?’
ie = Probably Darrel has secured their services to help in
i » the trailing. I don’t know that I’ve got the right of

P way.”

f. Lhere fell a ‘silence.
a. “Not knowing what business has brought you out
Wim here,” spoke up “Martin, “T’m not competent. to offer any
| advice, but [ll say this much: If you saw the Hindu,
™ - Buffalo Bill,.then it’s a cinch that Darrel isn’t far away;

; and it’s another cinch that the gambler, the Hindu, and
these reds are following you to put you out of the way.
That’s their business—you take it from me,’

“That dream of yours % panning out. in pretty good
shape, Martin,’ remarked Buffalo Bill. “All I wish is
that it had taken you a little farther, and given us some
sort of a clue to Darfrel’s intentions.”

“Ther on’y dreams I ever hev,” interpolated Old No-
mad, “comes when I go ter bed with er bad stummick—
which ain’t often. Them ain't ther sort o’ dreams thet
mean anythin’. But you seem ter hev ther knack
he dreamin’ things with some, sense ter ’em, Martin.”

R “Youre both taking some stock.in that dream, aren’t
you?’ said the deputy, with a slow smile.

é

 

=

 

SS Oe

 

 

 

queer Sorieideuce: when considered in connection with
the work Nomad and I have undertak en,’

“There's no coincidence about it, Buffalo Bill,’ said
the deptity earnestly. “As I told you, it isn’t often I
have such visions, but when they conte they mean some-

$

 

Pe DUR RALLO Bil

this, but T ean't figure out the situation in any other

“Well, what you have told us about it makes a mighty

DP EORTES 4 £3

  

thing. Are you and Nomad going on with your work,
or are you going ahead and hunt down Darrel and the
Hindu first ?”

“We're going on with our work It may be that Dar-
rel is trying to head us off, and get to the place we
have in mind in advance of us.”

“You know your own business best, of course, but
just remember that in that vision last night I saw Dar-
rel under the hat.”

“How do you interpret. that?’ asked Buffalo Bill.

“Why, it looks to me as tl ough Darrel is to show his
hand at some point farther oh,

There was an unusual luster to the deputy’s eyes, and
his face, which had before been rather pale, was now
flushed with color.

Buffalo Bill leaned over, pushed up the cotton hand-
kerchief, and felt of his forehead.

“What are you doing that for?’ asked Martin.

“See here, amigo,” answered the scout, “you're a sick
man. You weren't any too well when you started with
us, and that rough experience with the Apaches. hasn’t
done you any good. You've got a fever this minute.”

“Nonsense,” deprecated the deputy, but with an un-
easy glance; ‘I'll be all right by the time we're ready
to start across the desert.’

“I don’t think so, Martin.
Bee.

Bythen it was after three o’clock ie the afternoon.
Buffalo Bill walked down to the blind gully, to make sure
that the live stock was all right, and presently returned to
camp and climbed to the top of the hill,

A sweeping examination of the neighboring country
did not offer him any sign of redskins, and he. came
down to the spring again.

Martin was stretched out, with ‘his head on a saddle,
dozing. The scout stepped quietly to his side and looked
down at him anxiously.

“What are you thinking about, Buffalo Bill?
the deputy.

“Tm thinking that your fever is getting worse,” re-
plied the scout. “‘Martin, you’ve got to go back to
Wagon Wheel.”

“But I say——"’

Martin was now fully aroused, and started up to a
sitting posture.

“Why, man,’ went on the scout, “can’t you
stand that you're taking chances with yourself?”

“T understand this—that it takes more than a bullet
through the arm to knock me out.”

“That wound wouldn’t amount to anything if you fol-
lowed the doctor's orders. The fever proves that the
wound isn’t getting along as it ought to. That's why
Vm sending you home, amigo; and I want you to go
now, while you're able to go alone. Suppose you. per-
sisted in your determination to accompany Nomad and
me across the desert, and suppose’ you gave out com-
pletely in the foot-hills of the Opals? Do you know
what that would mean,!Martin? It. would mean that
either Nomad or I would’ have to ride back to Wagon
Wheel with you, and that would knock our business out
here ealley-west.”

“Oh, well, if you look at it in that light, Rae oe
I'll go back. I’ve got a feeling, though, that you're ¢«
ing to need me, and that I ought to go along.”

“If you were well, it would be different. But you
can see for yourself that you wouldn't be of much help

x

However, we'll wait and

’ queried

under-

 

   
 

 

as you are now. ‘Tell me all you know about that water-
hole in the foot-hills. While you’re doing it, Nomad
will bring up your horse.”

Martin yielded, but it was clear that His disappoint-
ment was keen.
without giving it considerable thought. In the deputy’s
present condition, such a trip as the two pards were to
take might easily prove his death. This was the scout’s
main reason for sending Martin back. The fact that
he would prove a drag on the operations of the two
pards was a minor consideration, and mentioned merely
as an argument to get the deputy to return.

While Old Nomad was getting the horse, watering
the animal at the spring, and putting on the riding-gear,
Martin was giving the scout minute instructions for find-
ing the water-hole.

It was when the deputy got up to mount that he be-
gan to realize his weakness. The fever was sapping at
his strength, and he could hardly stand.

The scout looked very grave.

“I don’t know,” said he, “but I ought to have Nomad
ride back with you.”

“It's a foolish notion, Buffalo Bill,’ laughed Martin.
“I'm able to ride ten miles without dropping fom the
saddle. You're right, though, in “saying that home is
the place for me. I wanted to be in at the finish of Dirk
Darrel, but now Pll have to leave it in your hands en-
tirely.”’

Nomad stepped forward to help Martin into the sad-
dle, but he waved him back, pulled himself together, and
gained the horse’s back,

“Adios,.and good luck,’ he called back as he rode
away. on

“He’s plucky, all right,” said Nomad, watching until
the deputy was out of sight, “but ye done ther proper
thing in sendin’ him back.”

“Probably,” returned the scout, “I have saved his Jife.
A few days in ,bed will make him as well as ever, but
the hardships ahead of us would do him up.”

“Wisht I could seé things at night like him,” mut-
tered Nomad. ‘‘Fortun’-tellin’ ain’t in et with thet.”

“I still think that dream of his was nothing more than
a queer coincidence. Darrel was on his mind, so he
dreamed ‘about him.”

“But ther Hat an’. ther, Dagget couldn’t hev been on
his mind, Buffler.”’

“That’s where the coincidence comes in, Nick,” and
the scout lighted his pipe and refused to talk any. more
on that particular subject.

The return of the deputy to Wagon Wheel was to
result in a most unexpected event, and to have a decided
’ bearing on’ the work that lay ahead of the two pards.

Two hours after Martin’s departure, Buffalo Bill and
Nomad saddled up and _ struck directly into the desert,
They were going after a Hat and a Dagger—a quest
they would have laughed at but for that letter written
by Milly Okay.

CEA PPE R UTX:
THE SACRED MOUNTAINS,

in Wagon Wheel, among other things, Buffalo Bill
had learned that the Opal Mountains were considered
“big medicine” by the Apaches, Surreptitious pilgrim-

¢ ;

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES:

Buffalo Bill had not taken this step —

   
     
     
   
 
  
 

ages were made by the red men to the range, and the
finding of an opal by any of the pilgrims was regarde
as a promise that the lucky brave should read his titk
clear to the Hereafter. ee Le
There -was also, in the sacred mountains, a peculig
stone known as the black diamond. This stone, irregulg

in shape, was as black and sparkling as a piece of polished ‘ i
jet. Sometimes it was as small as a hazelnut, and some a
times as large asa man’s fist. -

As the opal was “good medicine” to the superstitioumm
Apaches, so was the black diamond “bad medicine.” The poe

finder of an opal was looked upon as a favorite of the
Great Spirit, and the larger and more fiery the opal, the
greater the favor with which the warrior was regarded,
Nothing in the tribe was too’ good for the man witha
big opal.

It may easily be imagined that whenever a lot of pil-
gtims reached the sacred mountains they immediately

a

Cf

 

fell-to searching for the gem of honor; and it was during :
this search that they were quite as apt to uncover a black ‘

diamond as an opal. _

The finding of a. Black diamond meant death, for it :
proved that the finder was a favorite of the Evil Onc, ‘
and, consequently, that his life was a menace to the wel-
fare of the Apache people.

If the black diamond was of the smallest size, it was
argued that the finder was not very high in the graces of
the Evil One, and that an arrow through the heart was
the proper way to give him his happy despatch: but if
the black diamond was of the largest size, then the finder
was the devil’s prime favorite, and he was put out of
the way by being burned at the stake. |

A white man would naturally, suppose that the luckless
brave who dug up a black diamond when he was look-
ing for an opal would throw the black diamond away, and
pretend he knew nothing about it. But this was not the
case.

The Apache believed that if he flung away a black
diamond, and deceived his people, that he would suffer
infernal tortures to the end of time; but that, if he man-
fully acknowledged his find and accepted his fate stoic-
ally, after a period of torture he would ‘finally be Sent
to the happy hunting grounds, purified and entitled to
stand among the elect.

Fortunately for the Apaches, both the opals and the "hm
black diamonds were scarce. __ :

Buffalo Bill, always intensely interested in the folk-
lore of the red man, stored this interesting bit of super-
stition away in his mind. On the night journey across
the desert, he and his trapper pard beguiled the journey

 

 

*by an animated discussion of it.

Up to midnight, the pards pushed their horses rapidly ;
then they went into dry camp, and rested their animals
for two hours. Following this rest, they pushed forward
again. :

From some cause, Old Nomad’s mount went lame dur-

ing the last lap of the journey. The lameness increased
and, made it impossible for the pards to proceed at a
swift pace.
_ They had calculated upon reaching the water-hole be-
fore dawn, but the unforeseen accident to the trapper’s
horse so délayed them that it was sunrise before they
were able to go into camp,

With Martin’s instructions well in mind, the pards
had no difficulty in locating the water-hole. The water
was brackish and warm, but the horses drank it eagerly.

 
     

 
  

There was still enough in the canteens to last the cds
e some. time.
| Mesquit-bushes, which always grow in the desert
where there is the least sign of water, were banked thickly
fabout the vicinity of the water-hole, and on these the
rhorses could graze.
After watering and picketing out the horses, the pare
‘fell back on their ration-bags. Following breakfast, they
‘lighted their pipes. While the trapper tinkered at his
mount’s game foot, the scout ascended an elevation to
get a view of the surroundings.
| The water-hole was in a small basin. Between the
| basin and the desert a ridge intervened, divided in its
csfiter by a narrow gap.
' Sealing the ridge, the scout walked northward along
it until he came to the top of the farthest outlying spur,
# at the extreme end of the Opal Range.

  

   

' Back of him lay the three peaks of the Opals; north,
cfm west, and east stretched the level desert; and north-
‘kfm west arose Panamint Butte, so near that it seemed a

® detached peak of the Opal Range.
it Sitting down in the shade of a boulder, the scout pulled
e. at his pipe, and allowed his gaze to drift across the des-
|. fe ert toward the spot where he presumed the Hat and the
Dagger were to be found. %

t Was there really a Hat and a Dagger, or were the
f terms merely symbolical?

: The very nature of the terms suggested shauieetity, and
f pointed to his, and Nomad’s search as a monumental
: folly.

. But there was Milly Okay’s letter. The scout knew

her for a sensible girl. Nevertheless, her sailor uncle

might have gone daft on the subject of hidden treasure ;

and Milly, of course, could not be held responsible for
‘her uncle’s folly.

Some time must have passed while the scout sat there
smoking and thinking. Suddenly his gaze encountered
something which startled him.

Putting away his pipe, he shaded his eyes with his
‘hand and looked intently across the desert toward the
butte.

From behind it drifted the figures of galloping horse:
men, They came one at a time, gliding from behind
the butte like so many animated dots. Buffalo Bill
counted twenty before the line of horsemen ceased: to
wrigele from behind the base of the uplift.

“What ye lookin’ at, Buffler ?”’

Nomad, missing his pard, had come to look for him.
The scout turned, and, with a gesture,

- cated the soe horsemen.

“Reds!” muttered the old trapper, staring
headin’ this hyar way!”

“There’s no doubt about their being Indians, Nick,”
said the scout, “and no doubt but that. they are coming
this way.”

Dye reckon they seen us travelin’ acrost ther desert,
at’ thet they’te headin’ fer the Opals, ter give us ther
kibosh ?”

“Why should they give us the kibosh?”

“Waal, ef they’re workin’ fer Darrell :

ne eamblet wouldn’t have such a large number;
Nick. Half a dozen, at most, would be enough for him.
If he had too many, they'd be Hable to turn on him and
the Hindu, strip them of all they have, and then hike
out. Darrel is far and: away too clever to pin his faith
to 2 score of Apaches.”

‘an they re

a9

 

THE BUFFALO

   

silently indi-

BILL STORIES. ge

“Then, agin,’ pursued Nomad, ‘‘don’t fergit thet ye
drapped one o’ the ted varmints yesterday. This bunch
may be arter us ter git revenge.”

“Hardly that. It was a fair fight, with the Apaches as
the aggressors. That redskin was entitled to what he
got, and the rest of his tribe will understand it.”

As the foremost of the riders were drawing near, the
two pards got behind the boulder and continued to
watch.

‘“Mebbyso they’re makin’ fer thet water- hole,” sug-
gested Nomad. “Ef thet’s ther case, et’s time fer us
ter slide.”’

“No, 1 don’t think they’ re making for the water-hole,”
the scout teturned. “The leaders are pointed to pass
on the western ‘side of the range. If they were going
to the water-hole, Nick, thy’d come down ‘the cast aides

To get to the water -hole from the west, they'd have to .
alinab over the mountains—an impossibility with their

horses.”

Kneeling behind the boulder and watching covertly, the
two pards saw the twenty redskins gallop past. They
were nude to the waist, and the visible parts of their
bodies were painted black. They were armed with
lances, bows arffd arrows, and hatchets, and presented a
gruesome and warlike appearance.

“They have come to the sacred mountains to hunt for
opals,”’ was the judgment of the scout.

“T wisht ther hull pizen passel of ‘em ’u’d find black
dimings!” muttered Nomad.

“While they're working on the west. side of the range,”
proceeded the scout, ‘I’ ii ride off and look for the Hat
and the Dagger. We'll avoid trouble, perhaps, by clear-
ing out and not:allowing the reds to see us. So the thing
to do, Nick, is to finish up our work as quickly as we
can.”

The last tedskin had darted past the spur, and as the
scout spoke he got up and started back along the ridge.

“Ain't ye goin’ ter take me erlong when ye look fer
ther Hat an’ ther Dagger, Buffler?” inquired Nomad.

“Vour horse isn’t rapid eyouch, old pard. .I’ve got
to make a quick run. You’d better stay here, and he
ready to move as soon as | return.”

“Consarn ther red varmints!’’ growled the old trap-
per, recognizing the logic that kept him at the water-
hole. “They're allers buttin’ in at er time when they
ain't wanted. Et glooms me .up er heap ter think I
kain’t go with ye, Buffler, but ye’re right erbout hévin’
ter make’a quick trip of et. Ef ye find Darrel layin’ fer
veer

“I hope I will,’ broke in the scout, “but I’m not at all
sanguine. If Darrel’s around here anywhere, he has
probably seen the Indians; and, if he has seen them, he'll
be careful how he shows himself.”

“Thet’s so,’ agreed Nomad.

They descended the ridge to the water-hole, and the
scout led his horse clear of the chaparral, and got the
riding-gear in place.

mk reckons? said Nomad, as the scout rose to the
saddle, “thet I kin keep track o’ ye from the spur.’

“Don't go to the spur, Nick,” counseled the scout.
“Stay right here at the water-hole, and keep your eyes
skinned for reds. You're liable to have more trouble

than ain

Thereupon. the

scout used his ‘spurs,
through the gap.

and vanished

agence ARTs

—

    

   

     
   
 

        
       
     
         
     
   
   
   
   
    
 
  
 
  
    
  
    
  
  
    
   
  
  
    
  
  
    
   
   
   
  
   
   
    
   

   
aed

FO

Stats ae

Setialase eed

- } that the four Apaches meant mischief.

ving on toward the object that had attracted his atten-

a
‘

spurred directly toward the oncoming red men.

ees

5 path.

SPR FA eet a ai

zs AP RERi2 :

 

Pete tines Bore

- oe ee eee ay boa : mak z a

16
CHAPTER

THEPICKS UP,

The instructions in the sailorman’s letter called for
a course due north from the end of the Opal Range,

keeping the three peaks in line.

As soon as he had ridden well away from the range,
so that the three peaks stood_holdly in perspective, Buf-
falo Bill turned in his saddle and looked back.

The peaks were not in line’ Swerving to the left, he
brought the three points one behind the other, and turned
his horse due north.

He was also to look for a cross on Panamint. Butte.
Keeping his northerly direction as straight as he could,
he turned his gaze toward the uplift in the west. With
his horse at a gallop, he rapidly drew abreast of the
butte.

From time to time he looked behind, and when he was
not keeping the peaks in strict alignment, he was main-
taining an alert watch for the cross.

boulders against the dun-colored side of the butte. The

form of the cross was far from perfect, yet it was near

enough to it to be easily recognized.

The scout drew rein. Now, where were the Hat and
the Dagger? If symbols, what sort of symbols were
they?

His eyes searched the sandy ground. There was noth-
ing in his immediate vicinity. Slowly his gaze covered
the open stretch in advance ; then, in the distance, he
saw something.

From where he was he could not tell what sort of an
object lay before him; allfhe knew was that it could not
be a part of the desert. '

He started onward, but had not taken a dozen paces
before a sodden thump of hoofs reached him from the
west.

A look in the direction of the unexpected sound showed
him four mounted Apaches bearing down on him from
Panamint Butte.

Had these four redskins been left behind the butte by

. the others, who had ridden away a short time before, or
_ ) had the Indians been posted there by Darrel?

Yet, however it came about, it was easily to be seen

Instead of keep-
tion, Buffalo Bill turned a little from his course, and
Then it was that the Apaches diverged from a straight

They swerved a little to the north.
' With a pressure of his knee, the scout once more

-}made a change of direction, pointing now for the ob>

ject on the sandy plain, and understanding that he must
force a passage through the redskins in order to gain it.
Arrows began to glance through the air. The scout,

 

 

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

tp on the desert.

 

  

fohtine Indian fashion, Cs down at the side of his
horse, and shot from under the animal’s neck.

The first bullet went to its mark,’ and the Apache in
the lead was unhorsed.

e Such accurate aoe at a gallop dismayed the other
three Indians. However, they had no intention of giving
up the battle, but they were rendered more cautious.

Restraining the ardor of their horses, they scattered
and came on at a slower pace.

Buffalo Bill lifted himself erect in his saddle. Deed
of him he saw a bell-crowned Mexican hat, right side
Through the brim of the hat was thrust
a dagger, pinning the hat to the surface of the ground.

Here, then, was the Hat and the Dagger. They were
not symbols, but the veritable objects.’

The attack of the Indians had rendered Buffalo Bill’s
task a difficult one. If he failed to get the Hat and the
Dagger, the Apaches would take possession of them; and

‘to give much time to the pick-up would afford the say-

ages a distinct advantage, of which ay would not be

: ‘ -,, slow to benefit.
At last he saw it—an irregular arrangement of white .

Masterly horseman that he was, Buffalo Bill did not
debate long as to the course he should pursue. TVhrusting
his revolvers back into his belt, he put his horse to a
wild gallop, and hung down from the saddle, supported ©
by the crook of his left knee.

As he raced along, his right hand almost swept the

ground.

‘Seeing what he was about to do, the pursuing Indians
gave vent to fierce yells, in the hope of frightening the
scout’s horse and causing the animal to swerve to one
side.

But the horse remained true to the course the scout

had set. Nearer and nearer came the scout to the. odd
objects that lay on the plain. Presently he was upon
them.

Buffalo Bill’s chance had come. It was now or never
with him if he was to secure the mysterious sombrero.

A grab at the high crown of the hat, a efosing of the
steellike fingers, a wrench—and the Greaser head-gear

_ came away from the desert with the dagger still clinging ,

to its brim.

A true eye and steady nerves were needed, for the
scout had to do his work in an instant. ~There ua
be no turning back in the face of the savages.

Hardly had he gripped and drawn away the hat, when
he saw something under the crown of it—something, that
had been left behind. Ne

- It was a black object as big as the scout’s fist. and it
glimmered under the rays of the sun.

a
Not knowing there was anything under the hat’s

crown, the scout had struggled only to secure the hat
itself; yet, even if he had known that there had been
anything under the hat, it is doubtful whether he would
- have been able to obtain it.

 

 

 

 
   
   
 
 
     
 

THE BUFFALO

His disappointment over leaving the shimmering black
bject behind was quickly lost in a more ominous mis-
He heard something drop, and caught a flash
It was. only a flash he caught, and by the
cee realized that-ehis hanging position on the horse

igh en in his dohe hand he reached with his left
his other weapon.

 
  
    

‘That also was gone!
Just where, or when, he had dropped the other revolver
did not know, but he supposed it must have been lost
his belt when he first hung down from the saddle,
making ready for his hurried pick-up.

His situation was now precarious in the extreme. Un-
armed as he was, only his horse’s hoofs lay between him
and death.

Making a détour, he headed back toward the moun-
tains. One of the three remaining Apaches was racing
after him, firing a revolver as he came.

The revolver the Indian was using must have been the
first one the scout had lost. ee |

A second redskin could be seen trailing at his horse’s
side and picking up the second revolver.

Back at the place where the Hat and the Dagger had
been, the third Apache was standing on the ground,

colored cloth.

 

| him. His own horse was the best of the three, how-
ever, and he not only kept his lead, but slowly increased
i : : . |

The shooting of the Apache was wild. After three
shots, the leading’ savage had exhausted the chamber-of
the weapon, and was no more of a menace, so far as
. the firearm was concerned. :

The redskin with the second revolver, profiting by the
way his companion had wasted his bullets, was holding
_his fire, in an attempt to get close enough for accurate
_shooting.

 

Buffalo Bill’s desire was now to reach the water-hole
and lead the three savages through the gap. Nomad
could then be depended on to take care of them.
The hope of carrying out this plan was short-lived.
_ As Buffalo Bill neared the spur, one red horseman after
another deployed from behind it, dug in with his mocca-
sined heels, and bore down on the scout with the inten-
_- tion of heading him off,
| These were a detachment from the twenty. Tn Aans
whom the scout had seen riding awa y trom Panamint
. Butte. There were ten in the party.

With half a score riding at him from in front, and

 

, - dagger,

tf handling the black object gingerly and wrapping it in a.

The scout now had two armed savages racing after »

 

} ‘
BILL STORIES. 17
three more, one armed with a loaded revolver, pressing
him from the rear, there was nothing left for Buffalo
Bill but to head eastward across the desert.

He was not the one to give up, no matter how des-

perate the situatton. If worst came to worst, he had a

As he galloped into the desert he jerked the dagger
from the hat-brini. Then, while he rode, he examined
the hat.

There was nothing about it to make it worth keeping.
He looked it over inside and out, convinced himself that
it was valueless, and flung it away. ~

The hat had merely been used to cover that black,
shiny object which the scout had failed to secure.

Accepting his hard fortune as complacently as he

could, he turned in his saddle, to take account of the

pursuit.

The detachment from around the Opals had joined
with the three from Panamint Butte, and all were riding
together. The Indian who had picked up the black ob-
ject was holding the shimmering thing aloft. Just the
bare sight of it appeared to work the sav ages into fury.

Five of the ten from around the spur were mounted
on much fleeter cayuses than any of the others. These
five steadily drew ahead of the rest, and—what was of
more interest to the fleeing scout—were rapidly
on his own horse.

No arrows were launched, and this was something
which Buffalo Bill regarded as strange. Although the
Apaches seemed furiously hostile, they did not attempt to
shoot him out of the saddle.

The scout’s phenomenal good fortune, it seemed, had
been eclipsed by a run of hard luck. ‘With only his
horse’s speed between him and capture, the losing-acci-
dent came when the animal stumbled and fell sprawling.

Buffalo Bill was hurled over the
dropped in a heap on the sand.
weapon, was shaken from his hand.

gaining

horse’s head, and
The dagger, his sole

Stunned and bewildered, yet realizing fully his situa-
tion, he scrambled to his feet and rushed back to secure
the knife. While he was stooping, with his fingers on
the hilt, the five savages galloped alongside, dropped

_ from their cayuses’ backs, and flung themselves upon -
»- him.

CHAPTER: Xi.

NOMAD S FLIGHT.
a ,
Trouble was stepping high, wide, and handsome on the
desert that day. Not only was Buffalo Bill caught in the

net of disaster, but the old trapper was likewise beset.

Nomad’s hard luck began only a few minutes: after the
scout had vanished through the gap.

a

 
 

 

18 THE BUFFALO
Disappointed and testy because his horse had gone
lame, Nomad was tramping back and forth by the water-
hole, berating his misfortune in not being able to accom-
pany his pard to the end of that Hat-and-Dagger trail.

It was some time before he remembered that Buffalo
Bill had to!d him to keep his eyes skinned for reds, As
soon as thosé instructions worked their way through

the trapper’s ill humor, he started into the chaparral,
carrying his bridle and saddle with him.

He would getthe gear on his horse, he told himself,
and ride the animal about in an attempt to work off
the lameriess. A little exercise, now that the horse had
had some rest, might prove beneficial.

The horse was saddled and bridled. Thereupon, the
trapper coiled up the picket-rope and swung it from the
saddle-horn.

When he had finished, and placed his foot in the stir-
rup preparatory to mounting, he heard a grunt behind
him. With foot still in the stirrup and hand on the
horn, he turned,

Two Apaches met his eyes. They were on foot, and
each had an arrow on his bowstring and the shaft drawn
to its head. ‘The wicked, steel tips of the arrows were
pointed at the trapper’s breast.

Nomad was astounded. Evidently,
come on foot over the mountain.

Dropping his foot from the stirrup, he turned around
slowly. One hand darted toward the handle of his re-
volver. _

“No pull um gun!’ commanded one of the Apaches
ominously. “You pull um gun, we shoot.”

“Looks like et was yore deal,” said Nomad. ‘What
d’ye want, anyways? Ain’t ther palefaces-at peace with
ther “Pachies?) What ye diggin’ up ther hatchet fer, in
my case?”

Nomad was talking to gain time. He did not intend
to allow himself to be captured by a couple of “pizen
reds,”

The Indians made no attempt to answer his question.
One of them, lifting his voice high, gave an ear-splitting
yell.

A silence intervened, and then an answering yell
floated back from high up the mountain.

More redskins were coming! If Nomad wanted to
make a getaway, he would have to be about it before
the Apaches were reenforced. While it might be pos-
‘sible for him to escape two savages, he drew the line
at trying to dodge a score.

Suddenly he struck his horse with the flat of his hand.

As the blow fell and oe horse jumped forward, No-
mad dropped.
_ An arrow zipped through the air over iis head and
lost itself in the chaparral.’ The horse, startled by the
blow, had leaped against the Indian who was ready to
‘shoot, and had flung him aside.

these reds had

 

BILL STORIES.

The old trapper let go can a yell, which was punc-
tuated with the crack of one of his forty- -fives. The In-
dian who had launched the arrow sank back among the

~ bushes, while the. other, regaining an upright position,

closed with’ the trapper before he could pull trigger a
second time.

The Apache had dropped Hie bow, but he had a coke
Nomad changed ends with his revolver, and, gripping
the Indian’s knife-hand, held it firmly while he brought
the revolver-butt down on his head.

“Thet’s one fer Martin!” cried the old trapper;
0 you whelps knocked him over with er blow like thet,\

“ond

an’ now ye're paid off. Ef I had ther hull twenty o’ ‘

a)

 

ye
He bit his words short and listened. There was a

rustling in the chaparral, coming nearer and nearer,
More of the redskins, from the other side ‘of me moun-
tain, were hurrying to the scene.
Nomad launched a defiant bullet at random into the
bushes, then rushed away after his horse. The animal
was drinking at the water-hole,

He ran to the horse, caught him just as s he was about |

to spring away, mounted in a jiffy, and rode for the
gap at a slow, hobbling gallop.

“Sufferin’ wildcats!’” he erumbled. “Any husky In-
jun kin run a heap faster’n what I’m er-goin’,. Brace
up, cabyo!” he cried to his’ horse. “Don't yer know
ther reds aire arter us? Waugh!” he added disgustedly,
ren li omy had ole Nebby hyar, we could shore show
ther ’Pachies how I wear my back ha’r!*

u

3ut “Nebby,” the trapper’s old war-horse, was away
up in the Black Hills, and Nomad had to be content with
the best pace to be got out of his three-legged mount.

At a wobbling gait they left the gap. Nomad turned
to look back at the water-hole, and seven redskins dashed
into view and came after him at top speed.

They were on foot, but, even at that, he could see that
they would give him a hard run of it.

Using his spurs and slapping his hat across his horse’s
withers, he urged the animal to do the best possible.

Nomad, even in that trying situation, was loyal4o his
pard. Buffalo Bill was somewhere to the north, hunting
for a Hat and a Dagger. The trapper would not lead
the redskins in that direction, fearing to complicate the
scout’s work.. Heading eastward, he hoped to draw the
Indians farther and farther away.

The Apaches in pursuit of Nomad had taken due note
of the condition of his horse. Undoubtedly, they felt
that there would be little difficulty i in running the trapper
down. The horse would tire in time, and then they
could swoop down on the luckless old trapper like coyotes
on a wounded buffalo.

After their first wild spurt through the gap, the In-
dians settled down to a steady jog, which they could

 

\fe

| ;

\

 

 

 

 

 
 

d

 

 

 

 

 

keep up hour after hour. This was not a rapid pace, but
it had staying qualities. The trapper might gain on
them for a while, but they would more than make up for
it later.

“Nomad figured out their design, and smiled oyer it
grimly.

“A stern chase, they say,” he muttered, “is a long ’un:
Ther reds hev settled down ter tire ther cabyo out.
Wonderef they don’t think I kin do a leetle runnin’ my-
self arter ther cabyo quits? They'll not git me, an’ I’m
teasin’ ’em off so’st they won't git Buffler. Oh, waal, I
reckon I’m makin’ ther best of er tough propersition, all
right.”

An hour—two hours passed. The seven Apaches were
still jogging along, seven gliding dots on the desert.
They were holding their own now, and neither gaining
nor losing.

“Wonder ef ther red whelps aire thirsty?” chuckled
Nomad, taking a pull at his canteen. “ They could hev
made better time by goin’ back over ther mounting an’
gittin’ their cayuses. But an Injun thinks fust an’ acks

“arterwards,”’

Just about then the trapper discovered that his horse
was failing rapidly.

“Begins ter look like footwork fer me,” he thought
ruefully. “I shore hates ter leave ther hoss, an’ I shore
hates ther thought o’ trampin’ over a hull lot o’ desert,
under a blazin’ sun, an’ with ther ground as hot ag ther
crust o Tophet. I reckon,” he muttered aloud, “I'll
throw up er trench, an’ fight et out!”

This new idea took such forcible possession of him

‘that he stopped the limping horse at once, got down at

a riffle of sand, and fell to work gouging out a sort of
pit with his picket-pin.

The horse, completely fagged, laid down. The body
of the animal was itself a tolerable breastwork, and by
chance the animal had dropped near the edge-of Nomad’s
pit.

Throwing himself down behind the horse, the trapper
replenished the chamber of the revolver used jat the
water-hole, and made ready for eventualities. <

The seven dots grew larger and larger.

Aware of the trapper’s design to make a . stand, the
Apaches began spreading out as they advanced.

“T don’t keer what shape ye come in, ye pizen whelps!’
growled the old man;
thet's (aH.

‘Jest git within reach o’ my guns,
Thar’s ten lives in these shooters, an’ more
in my belt.. Seven ain't so many, ’specially when they’s
Injuns. Anyways,” he added, “this hyar is a hull lot
better’n hoofin’ it acrost ther desert.”

While Nomad, his eyes sharp as a weasel’s and every
muscle tense and ready, watched and waited for the time
to. begin the battle, he was astonished to see every one
of the redskins whirl about suddenly and run like deer
along the back track. |

THe BURPALO-BILT; STORIES. 19

“Now,” the old man yelped, springing to his feet,
“whyever does ther cowardly whelps ack like thet?
What’s ther—

He looked around, toward the east, and instantly the
peculiar actions of the Indians was explained.

Horsemen were riding from that direction, and riding —
fast. One, two, three, four—he counted a dozen of

 

them. Riding with a man in the lead was—unless his eyes

deceived him—a woman.
a ,skirt. :

Dumfounded by this unexpected rescue, . the old man.
stood and stared.

Presently he gave a yell, jerked off ae hat, and waved
it frantically.\

“Dough-boys!” he shouted; “an’ Milly Okay is ridin’
along with ther officer in front. Seems like I’m er-
dreamin’! Milly Okay, by all thet’s good! Whatever is
father,

Surely he caught the flutter of

she doin’ hyar, when she ort ter be with her sick
at the Notch? An’ whatever aire ther sojers doin’ along
with her?” :

Completely bewildered, Old Nomad sat down on the
edge of his rifle-pit and waited for the detachment to
ride up.

CHAPTER XIL
SOME AMAZING FACTS.

The dusty troopers reined in their horses in a circle
about Nomad, the lieutenant in command of the detach-
ment and Milly Okay dismounting for an exchange of
words.

The soldiers were from Fort Apache, and Lieutenant
Detwiler and most of the men were known to the old
trapper.

“Howdy, ye ole fire-eater!” chaffed one of the men;
“what was you tryin’ to do?’

“Come purty nigh gettin’ treed, eh?’
other.

“Where’s Buffalo Bill, Nomad?” asked a third.

Nomad, however, hadn’t much time just then for the
rank and file. He was staring at Milly.

The girl’s face was grave as she caught the trapper’s
outstretched hand.

“Say, but this hyar’s a knock-out!” exclaimed Nomad.
“How’s yer dad, Milly? An’ how did ye happen ter
leave him ter come hyar?” :

“My father?’ repeated the girl blankly.
well as ever, Nomad.”

“Then he must hev got well quick. The letter Buffler
got from ye night afore last said as how he was in purty.
bad shape, an’ thet ye couldn't leave him ter come ter
Wagon Wheel.”

The girl stared at Nomad as though she thought he
had gone crazy. . :

sang out an-

SEG. 45)a5

 
 

THE BUFFALO

»20

“While you two are talking,” put in Lieutenant Det-
wiler, seeing that there was a misunderstanding of some

sort, and that it would take a little while to straighten

it out, “my men and I will ride after those redskins.
They’re a detachment of the party we’re looking for.”

The lieutenant mounted, gave an order, and he and his
ten men galloped toward the mountains.

“Nomad,” said Milly, “I can’t begin to understand
you. I didn’t write Buffalo Bill a letter. And how
could I say my father was sick when he isn’t and hasn't
been?”

Nomad dropped the hat he was holding in his hand,
and ran his fingers through his longhair.

“Ve didn’t write Buffler a letter?” he gasped.

“INO.

“Ye didn’t send him er letter from yer sailor uncle?’

“Certainly not!”

“Ner ye didn’t send him thet vallyble dockyment with
ther tape an’ seals, an’ all?”

“No, no! You must be crazy!”

“I’m beginnin’ ter think I am.

Thet’s right. Waugh!

I’m all boggled up.”
Nomad sat down again,
“And [’m beginning to think,’ said Milly, “that Colo-

nel Hawkins was right when he said Buffalo Bill had

received an express package with my name on the out-
side of it.”

“Hawkins told ye thet?’ mumbled Nomad.

“Yes; and he said that as soon as Buffalo Bill got the
package he made preparations for riding off somewhere.
As soon as I heard that I began to worry.”

“T reckon we'd all hev worried a leetle ef we’d knowed
ye didn’t write thet letter! Buffler wrote you a letter
arter he got thet express package. Didu’t ye git thet?”

“T haven’t received any word from the scout. If his
letter was written within the last day or two, though,
it wouldn’t have reached me, for I have been to Fort
Apache. What was in the express package °”’

“A letter thet claimed ter be from you, another ‘un
thet claimed ter be from yer sailor uncle, an’ then thet
big envelope which claimed ter hev inside ther dockyment
Darrel has been tryin’ ter git !’’

“Why, Nomad, that big envelope is in the Colonel's
safe, at the fort.. I went there purposely to take it.’

“Did yer dad let ye go with et alone, knowin’ Darrel
was loase in ther kentry ?”

“Lieutenant Detwiler happened
Notch,’
post.”

“Then ye come on ter Wagon Wheel?”

“While I was at the post, word came that a lot of
Apaches had left the Reservation and gone to the Opal
Mountains, hunting Great Spirit charms.
Detwiler and ten men were sent after them.

to be at Nugget

the girl answered, “and he escorted me to the

Lieutenant
I knew vou

and Buffalo Bill were at Wagon Wheel, and I decided

BILL STORIES. -

to ride as far as that place with the lieutenant and his
detachment, so I could see you and the scout. —

“When we got to Wagon Wheel I called at the hotel,
but Colonel Hawkins said you were both away, and told
me about that express package. Colonel Hawkins said
he thought Martin, the deputy marshal, could tell me
more abdut the business that had taken Buffalo Bill out
of town, so I called on Martin.

“He had just got back, after accompanying you to the
edge of the desert. He was in bed, with a high fever,
and the doctor said I couldn’t see him; but Martin heard

us talking, and called out that he just had to see me if
Milly Okay. Then I went in, and Martin.

I was really
told me that you and Buffalo Bill had started for the

north end of the Opal range on some private business.
All. I had heard only increased my alarm, particularly
what I heard about Dirk Darrel and Hadj Mahal.”
“What did ye hyer erbout them?”
“Why, that they were in this part of the country,

that Darrel had made an attempt on the scout’s life with —

some sort of a poisoned match-case, and that Buffalo
Bill had seen the Hindu near the spring at the edge of
the desert.” €

“So you flocked along with ther sojers when they
rode out er Wagon Wheel?”

“Ves, ol qust telt: that : oe wait until I had
learned what was going on.’

“Ye don’t know nothin’ erbout a Hat ana Dagger,
do ye?”

“What about them?’ queried Milly, shaking her head.

“Nothin’, on’y thet dockyment we thought was yer
uncle’s give ther location of er Hat an’ er Dagger,
which we was ter find. I didn’t know ther secret of et,
any more’n Buffler did. We was going on a hunt fer
ther things jest kase you had asked us to, in yer let-
ber! )

The girl’s face went white.

“And you were getting into all this trouble for me!’
she exclaimed.

“We'd do er heap fer you, Milly.”

“IT. know you would, Nomad, but 1 hadn’t anything to
do with this at all.”

“I’m beginnin’ ter sense thet.”

“Tell; me, as near as you can ae Gaslt just aia
those letters said. Begin with mine.”

Milly, holding to the bridle of her horse, sank down
on the edge of the rifle-pit, beside the old trapper. Then
the latter told her, as near’ as he could remember, what
the two letters contained, and also repeated what the
other document had to say about the Hat and the Dag-
ger. y
“Oh!” cried Milly, when Nomad had finished,
surely another of Darrel’s contemptible schemes!
as crafty as a fox, and he is trying to kill the scout, out
of revenge for the help he gave my father!”

“thige1S
He is

 

Pe Se

aa

eS

 
| Nomad.

- now on.

THE BUFFALO

“Whar d’ye think thet express package come from?”
“From Darrel, of course.
from the Notch, in my name.’

“D’ye opine Darrel faked up all them letters?”

“There is no doubt of it.”

“But they was all in a different handwritin’, Milly.”

“Don’t you think
that?”

“He’s erbout as slick as they make ’em, I reckon; but

Darrel is clever enough to manage

|} Pi be blamed ef I know what he faked up all thet stuff

erbout ther Hat an’ ther Dagger fer. What underhand
game is he tryin’ ter pull off with sich er fool-play as
thet ?”

“Something brutal and effective, you may depend oa
that,” answered Milly, with flashing eyes. “Tell me how
you came to be pursued by those Indians, Nomad, and
where Buffalo Bill is at this moment.”
“Tm anxious to hear that myself.”

It was Lieutenant Detwiler who spoke.
back alone.

‘Whar’s ther Injuns, leftenant?” queried the trapper.

He had ridden

“Every last one of them has been captured. My men
have them, and are waiting for us a few miles farther
on. Motnt, both of you, and we'll ride.”

“Yell hev ter go slow ef ye travel with me,’ said
“My hoss hes gone lame, an’ erbout all he kin
do is ter crawl.’

“There’s: no particular hurry, Nick,” said the lieu-
tenant. “We have been using our own horses pretty
hard, and they will be all the better for a slow pace from
We ae to get to that water-hole in the Opals
as sOOn aS we can.’

While they were ‘riding across the desert, to overhaul
the rest of the detachment, Nomad rehearsed*fully all
that. had happened since he and the scout had been de-
coyed into the desert by those spurious letters.

“There’s no telling what may have happened to Buf-
falo: Bill!” cried Milly, with a sharp pang in her voice.
‘Darrel has laid some cunning and treacherous plan, and
he ‘scout has fallen into it.”

“We'll find the ‘scout; Miss Okay!” declared Detwiler,
with a snap of the jaws. “If anything has happened to
him, Darrel shall be made to pay dearly for it.”

“Buffler is gin’rally able ter take keer 0’ himself,” re-

arked Nomad, although with failing confidence, “an’
’m hopin’? we’ll\find him waitin’ at ther water-hole.

ourse, he left ther water-hole ter look fer thet fool Hat
n’ Dagger, an’ I don’t opine he was expectin’ anythin’
yas wrong, kase he was bankin’ on thet letter he thort he
rot from Milly: Ef he ain’t at ther water-hole, then et’s
p ter us ter find him.”’

“We'll find him, all right,’ asserted Detwiler.

“We must!’ breathed Milly.
A little later they came up with the troopers, who were

co got some one to send it.

BibE SLORIES oF
walking their horses toward the mountains. Seven of
the soldiers had each an Apache marching in front of
him,

An interpreter with the detachment had discovered that
more of the redskins were in camp on the western side of
the range.
pect for opals in new ground; those who had been left
had told off one of their number to watch their horses,
while nine had gone over the mountain on foot, also
prospecting for “Great Spirit stones.” It: was two of
those nine who had stirred up Nomad by the water-hole.
Nomad had shot one, and had injured the other so he
could not join in the pursuit with the rest.

When Detwiler had gathered this information from
the interpreter, he turned to Milly and Nomad.

“Tf we don’t find Buffalo Bill at the water-hole,” said
he, “then we'll make these Indians take us to their camp.
The chances are a hundred to one that, if anything has
happened to the scout, this bunch of opal-hunters are
back of it.”

Ten of their number had ridden off, to pros- |

1

An hour later the troopers, with their prisoners, passed

through the gap in the ridge and came to the water-
hole.

Buffalo Bill was not there.

Fears for the scout’s safety now took concrete form,
and even Nomad was beginning to lose heart.

Five of the troopers were left at the water-hole, to

watch six of the prisoners. The seventh prisoner was
selected to guide Detwiler, Milly, Nomad, and the five
remaining troopers around the spur to the Apache camp.
The trapper, leaving his lame horse at the water-hole,
borrowed one belonging to a soldier.

 

CHARTER XIII.

\

BUFFALO BILL AT THE STAKE)

The king of scouts, beset by five Apaches who seemed
bent on capturing him alive, fought with all his strength.
The rest of the Indians came up quickly, however, and
he was overwhelmed by numbers and made a prisoner.

Thongs were made fast about his wrists and ankles.

He was then laid across his horse, like a bag of meal, and
the Apaches began a forward movement in the direction
of the mountain spur.

The savages were exultant. By turning his head, the
scout was able occasionally to catch sight of the redskin
who carried the black stone.

Now and then an Indian would ride alongside the scout
and cut him with a quirt, at the same time taunting him
in the Indian tongue. .

The scout, through all this ill-treatment, preserved’ a
stoical demeanor. Had he attempted any retort, his ca>-
tors would have doubled their abuse.

sj aca A

 
  

 

4

ATTA

22

Passing around the tip of the spur, the Apaches rode
down the western side of the range, and finally turned in
at a valley that cut into the mountains.

There was some grass in the valley, and a large pool
of standing water.

Beside the pool the Indians dismounted, the leader of

the party conversing with three other Apaches, who were .

in the camp when the rest arrived. One of these three
had a bruise on the forehead, arid another had a wound
in the thigh. |

There was much animated talk between the leader and
the three Apaches. While it was going on, the scout was
jerked roughly from the back of his horse and flung on
the ground, a little way to one side.

The cayuses were hobbled and turned loose.
diately afterward all the redskins gathered around the
scout, kicking and striking him.

Imme-

“T am Pa-has-ka,” he said in Spanish, ““Do yot think
Pa-has-ka is a woman, that he should be afraid of your
?. Bah! Pa-has-ka is a white chieg,
~and you Apaches are  squaws! Where are your

feet or your hands
war-
riors ?”

Suddenly the leader broke through the circle of bucks
and ordered them away. In his hand the leader carried
the round black stone.

“Pa-has-ka speaks Spanish?”
ering at the scout.

ra NiG ec.

“You killed a warrior in a cafion by the spring one
sleep ago, beyond the desert?”

“T defended myself,”
rior fell.

“You kill another warrior a little while ago?”

asked the leader, glow-

said the scout, “and the war-
He was a thief.”

pur-
sued the leader, his eyes gleaming balefully,

“He tried to kill me. I, killed him first.”

“Tt is well,” continued the léader. “The two warriors
fell in fair fight, and the Apaches know how to bear such
It is not for this you have our anger.
Out in the desert you found this black diamond under
a sombrero. You fled with the sombrero and a
but you left the black diamond behind.
of a woman.” :

Buffalo Bill gave a start. Abruptly he remembered
the superstition of the Apaches, and what the finding of
the black diamond always meant. Had that black dia-
mond been put under the hat by Darrel? And was it
through Darrel’s connivance that these savages were
there to see him—the scout—uncoyer the fatal stone?

*Pa-has-ka,”

losses like men.

knife,
Jt ~was the act

said the scout calmly, ‘is a white man.

The laws and customs of the Indians are not for him.’ _- ®
“The pony-soldiers will never know,”

“You are a.son of the Evil One,”
“and, as such, you must die.”

“Pa-has-ka simply picked up the sombrero,” went on
the scout. “It was some other whd found the bleck dia-
mond and put it under the hat.”

growled the chief,

BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

soldiers,”

 

cee

   
  
  
  
  
 
  

“Pa-has-ka found it,” persisted the chief; “three of
the Apaches saw him find it. A fourth Te etic would
have seen, but he was killed by Pa-has- Kea ©

It was useless to argue with the red men. They hal
made up their minds to kill the scout, and one excuse |
was as good as another. A

“Tf the Apaches do. this,” said Buffalo Bill, “they]
will hear from the pony-soldiers at Fort ae

the ae ke can, take care of themselves,”
the leader. “Buffalo Bill knows now why he is to die,
It is the custom that the one who finds.a black diamond]
like this’’—the leader held out the shiny stone in his open
palm—‘“must die by the stake.”

“Tt is not the white man’s custom,”

The leader stepped back and waved his aa Half)
a dozen warriors laid hold of the scout, dragged him to
the great bole of a sahuara cactus from which the spines
had been shaved, and bound him upright and firmly.

The Indians thereupon darted away, and presently
began returning with armfuls of mesquit brush and
dried branches of ironwood, thorn, and palo verde.

These were piled about the scout’s feet, and the pile
kept growing until he was covered to the waist.

The king of scouts felt that he had never been brought}
face to face with a more desperate situation. He was
absolutely in the dark as to the hard luck suffered by’
Nomad, and he believed, at that moment, that his trapper
pard was at the water-hole on the other side of the
mountain. |

He remembered that he had told Nomad to stay at thé
watef-hole, and not try to keep track of what happened
on the desert.; Because of this, Nomad would fail to
learn of the tragedy.

Ww

as

aver red FO!

>

cc

 

 

i

ees ae

+h

ee ee

Yet, lad the trapper known what was going on, he
would have been powerless to interfere successfully. [le
would. have tried, of course, and the result would have
been that he also must have fallen-into trouble.

Buffalo Bill was perfectly calm through all the prepa- 7
rations that were being made. .When the brush and \q
wood had been heaped up, two of the redskins lighted
improvised torches, and began dancing around the help-
less captive and the sahuara,

Suddenly the leader made a sign. The torch-bearers

sprang to one side and waited.
“Pa-has-ka understands why he is to die?” demanded
the leader.

“Pa-has-ka understands that every brave who takes
part in this will be/ called to answer for it by the pony-
was the defiant response.

answered the
etafty leader. ‘“‘After the flames are done, what is left
will be put away.”

\

The humor of this delicate suggestion was not appre-
ciated by the scout.

 
THE BUFFALO

   
   
  

“Has Pa-has-ka anything to say?” went on the leader,
_ “Pa-has-ka would like to know if the Apaches know a
“white man by the name of Dirk Darrel?’

‘and the brown man with the black cap.”

In the group that surrounded him Buffalo Bill recog-
‘nized one of the Apaches who had helped in the theft of
the provisions at the. spring. This Apache had a scar
fon his cheek,

“T should like to ask Scarred Face’’—here the scout
nodded toward the Apache—“if he and the other three
Fhid behind Panamint Butte, waiting for Pa-has-ka to
come?”

The leader exchanged some. guttural words with
{ MM Scarred Face. /

0 ‘This so,’
3 “Then,”

the leader went on in Spanish,
said Buffalo Bill, “it was Darrel who found

the black diamond and put it under the sombrero.”
yf is Pa-has-ka afraid of the fire?” sneered the leader.
(fm “Pa-has-ka is not afraid of anything the Apaches may
ido, but it is Darrel who is the son of the Evil One, and
e fe it is Darrel who should be burned at the stake.”
“Darrel is a friend of the Apaches,’ persisted the
it Mae leader.
s “The chief of the Apaches lies when he says he is
y Mg burning me at the stake because I found the black dia-
t Ma mond. He wants my life, and that is his excuse. He
e knows. that Dirk Darrel is the one who should be stand-
fe ing here, and net Pa-has-ka.”
6H «The Jeader gave a yell, and slapped his hands together,
d Man instantly the two bucks with the torches sprang for-
o Man ward. bent to the pile, and began pulling the flames
‘through and through it.
And‘ in that supreme moment, when the mesquit

brush began to crackle and the smoke to rise, a'thunder
of héofs awoke the.echoes of the valley.

Through the smoke-fog, as the wind whipped it aside,

§ Buffalo Bill could see soldiers racing for the scene;

™ and in the lead of the soldiers were Nomad and—could

'he believe his eyes, or had the smoke blinded them ?—

| Milly Okay!

CHAPTER XIV.
a THE INDIAN PRISONERS.

In less than five minutes after the ‘Soldiers had ridden
‘into the valley, six of them had rounded up sixteen
Apaches. The wily savages had been caught red-handed
in a deed which the chief of the pony-soldiers would not
overlook, and for which he would demand punishment.
‘Some of the red men rushed for their weapons, but the
Six soldiers, Detwiler at their head, had made a com-
plete surround, and were fanning the air with twelve
atmy Colts, /

f
£

“Darrel has been a friend of the Apaches, both Darrel

BILL. STORIES. 23

Nomad and Milly were not in the cordon drawn about
the panic-stricken savages. Their apprehension was all
for Buffalo Bill. Dashing among the savages, they
leaped from their horses and scattered the blazing brush.

“Buffler!” cried Nomad frantically, “ye was clost ter
yer finish, pard!: An’ I never knowed! These hyar
pizen varmints fe

Nomad, wrought up as he had never been before,
sprang among the Apaches and struck out right and left
with his fists... Wherever he saw a feathered head he let
fly at it. |

“ll Varn ye ter tie up Buffler at ther stake! [Ill
fix ye fer doin’ sich things ter a pard o’ mine! Ye’re a
pack 0’ cowardly coyotes, the hull o’ ye! Whoop-ya!
It’s me, Ole Nomad, Buffler’s pard!”
' In vain did Detwiler shout for Nomad to quit. He
seemed not to hear, but continued his yelling and ham-
mering. Indians went down before him like tenpins in
a bowling-alley; and whenever one of them managed
to. stagger up, he was bowled over again. And all the
while the itate old trapper was whooping like a demon.

Milly Okay cut Buffalo Bill loose from the sahuara,
and it remained for him to grab Old Nomad and pull him
out from among the Indians.

“Buffler,” panted Nomad, grabbing the scout’s hand
and hanging to it, “I come mighty nigh losin’ ye. An’ |
never knowed! Snarlin’ catermounts! I’d er be¢n plumb
crazy ef I'd ’a’ suspicioned anythin’ like this hyar was
Aire ye all right, pard?”

 

goin’ on.

“My eyes and throat are full of smoke, that’s about .
all,” answered Buffalo Bill. “Turn to, Nick, and let's
help the troopers disarm the reds.”

“But I want ter know how et all happened

“There are a number of things I want to know myself,
but they will have to wait. Come on.”

“That’s the talk, Cody!” shouted Detwiler. “While
we hold the drop on the reds, you and Nomad get every
bow, arrow, hatchet, and lance they have.”

 

Nearly every buck had a hatchet and a knife, and some
few had their bows and quivers cf arrows. For the most
part, however, bows, arrows, and lances had been laid
aside when brush was gathered and preparations were
being made for the fire.

The scout found his revolvers, as luck would have it,
and he hastily filled the empty chambers and, thrust the
weapons into his belt.

The sixteen Apaches were stripped of their weapons —
in short order, bows, arrows, lances, knives, and hatchets
being flung on the scattered brush.

“Now,” ordered Detwiler, “set fire to the brush, some
of you, and we'll have a burning that’s worth while.”

The Indians watched ruefully while this order was.
being carried out.

“Who's the leader, Buffalo Bill?” asked Detwiler.

 
 

THE BUFFALO

24

e

_ The scout indicated that crestfallen personage.

“Find something to. tie him with, Nomad,” ordered
Detwiler, “and make him fast.”

While the old trapper was cheerfully obeying, Buffalo
Bill was securing Scarred Face. Pieces of his own bonds
were used in the tying. When he had finished, the scout -
dragged his prisoner over and laid him beside the leader.

With picket-ropes the other savages were tied in a
string, a bight of thesrope passing around each redskin’s
neck. The only Apache exempt from.this treatment,
aside from the leader and Scarred Face, was the one
who had been shot in the thigh. This warrior could not
stand on his feet, and hence had to be treated differently.

“Now,” said the lieutenant, when this had been com-
pleted, “I reckon we can have a little talk. Why were
the Indians using you in that way, Cody?”

The scout picked up the black diamond.

“Dirk Darrel had ordered it,” answered the .scout.
“Darrel has it in for me, and the Indians were trying
to help him.”

“The chief will answer for this,”
so will Darrel—if we can find him.
have in your hand?”

“Something found under a hat I picked up from the
desert,’ said the scout, “Ill have to explain to. you;
though, all that stuff about the Hat and the Dagger. If
I don’t you won’t be able to follow me.”

“Save yourself the trouble, old chap,” said the lieu-
tenant; “Nick has told us all about that fool proposition.
You really found a Hat and a Dagger?”

“I really did,” smiled Buffalo Bill grimly. “Before I
could get.to them, however, four Apaches ran out from
behind Panamint Butte, and tried to head me off. I
dropped one of them, and made a flying pick-up as I gal-
loped past the hat.’ But I failed to pick up the black
diamond, which was under it. ‘The three reds who were
chasing me found the stone, and took possession of it;
they also secured my revolvers, which had falfen out of
my belt. I’ was unarmed then, and had to run. As
hard luek would have it, I ran into ten mounted bucks,
who galloped out from behind the spur. Between the lot —
of them, I was captured, brought here, and tied to that
sahuara. The chief said I was to die because I had,
found the black diamond; but I know better than that.
I was to die because Darrel had ordered it, and because
IT am conyinced that he put that hat and dagger where>
1 found them, put the black diamond under the hat, and
likewise posted the four reds behind Panamint Butte. I
don’t know exactly how the game was worked, but I
believe I can find out.”

“How?” queried Detwiler.

“From this buck’ here,” answered the scout, walking
over to Scarred Face.

Nomad, Milly, and the lieutenant gathered euued

Lhe scout tried Scatred Face in English, and then in

said Detwiler, ‘and
What’s that you

  
  
  
 

BILL STORIES

Spanish. Evidently he was not well enough acqusitl
with either language to reply im. it.
“Have you an interpreter with you, lieutenant >” But
falo Bill asked. :
Detwiler called one of hismen. —
“You know the va ee a He scout inquired]
of the trooper.
“Well enough to talk,” was the teoly {
“Ask Scarred Faee where Darrel and Z Hindu are.”
The soldier put the question, and got a reply. 7q
“Tn the hut north of the spring at the edge of the]
desert,” the soldier translated. d
Thereupon this interesting dialogue passed, with the |
soldier translating question and response:
“Where did you come from’
“From the Reservation, with the rest of Lone Wolfs)

band.” t!
“Why did you leave the Reservation?’ :

“To hunt for Great Spirit stones.”

“Where did you meet Dirk Darrel ?”’ .

“As we were nearing ‘the edge of the desert, on our Ja
way to the sacred mountains. He talked with Lone 1
Wolf, paid him gold, and Lone Wolf had six warriors }
go with him.” ‘

“Where did you go?”

“To the hut north of the spring.’

‘What did you do theres = BB:

“Darrel sent four of. us, on foot, to the spring, to ®
watch for Pa-has-ka and Wolf Killer.”

“Why did you steal the haversacks? Did Darrel tell
you to do that?”

“No: we took the haversacks because we had had
nothing to eat but chuckwallah, and were hungry. Dar- —
rel was mad.”

“What did Darrel do?” |

“He sent me across the desert, to this camp. I saw
Lone Wolf, and told him Darrel wanted four braves
to go behind Panamint Butte and watch for Pa-has-ka ©
and Wolf Killer. If they found a black diamond, they
were to be burned at the stake.”

“You went to the butte?”

“The other braves rode there with us; then they rode
away, leaving me and three other braves to ‘watch for |
Pa-has-ka and Wolf Killer.”

“You saw Pa-has-Ka pick up the hat and uncover the
black diamond?” ae

“Yes; and we cee Pa- has-ka, and would have
killed hae

“Where was Wolf Killer all ne time ?”

“No sabe.”

This. exhausted Scarred. Pace.

ee ee ph eae

information

The.

gleaned from him caused Nomad’s gorge to begin to
Detwiler himself was tremendously worked up by
the revelation. . - =

“It’s a dastardly outrage, Cody!" the lieutenant de-

rise.

 
he ‘

he

    
  
  
  

'be able-to catch Darrel.

under our feet.

To save time was the main consideration.

some of the ponies, and tied there.
Fmounted, tied together as they

THE BUFFALO

Jared. “This scoundre! Darrel planned his revenge so
that the superstitious Apaches would help him. He knew
hat if you were seen to uncover the black.diamond, Lone
Wolf would burn you at the stake. That is the revenge
he wanted. You had failed to open that fatal match-
ease, and he laid this pretty trap for you. He» must
have known all about Lone Wolf and his gang coming
to the Opals, and that knowledge gave him a basis for
his schemes.”

' “It was an elaborate game,”

murmured the scout

thoughtfully, “but Darrel is an elaborate schemer when ©

he lets himself loose. However, there are other points
concerning which I am still in the dark. For instance.”
and the scout turned with a smile to Milly, “how does it
happen that I find you here? Did you get my letter 2”

“No, Buffalo Bill,’ answered Milly,:“my name, and

that of my father and of my uncle, have been used to

I sent you no letter, and no express package.
doing.”

trick you.
That was all Darrel’s

Milly then explained in detail, just as she had done be-
fore to Nomad.

“Ah, but it was elaborate,’ muttered the scout, dazed
by the developments of the gambler’s villainy. “There
is a way, however, in which,.if we act quickly, we may
He is wanted for many things,
but it is the killing of Jim Fong that will put a rope
around his neck.”

“What’s your plan, Cody?” asked Detwiler, interested

Fat once.

“My plan is for two of us to ride at once, with
Scarred Face to lead the way. He\will take us-directly
to the hut where Darrel and the Hindu are staying, and
we can bag the pair. But we can’t let any grass grow
If Darrel hears about events in the des-
ert before we reach the hut, the fat will be in the fire.

| He’s slippery, and will lose no time getting away when
F he hears what a fiasco his plans have run into out here.”

“V’ll go with you, Cody,” said Detwiler.~ “I can leave

| my sergeant to take care of Lone Wolf and to shoo the

redskins back where they beléng, and it’s quite impor-
tant, I think, that this Darrel be captured. He’s inciting
the Indians to make trouble, and can’t be left at large.

| We'll get this outfit around to the water-hole, and leave

all the prisoners and all the men together; then we'll
hike, just as soon as you give the word.”

“T’m in on ther deal,” said Nomad.

“And I,” declared Milly. :

The scout did not care to lose precious minutes de-

'bating the question as to who was or who was not going.

Lone Wolf,
Scarred Face, and the wounded Apache were put on
The rest were also
were, and the: cayuses
roped in grotips of three, each of the five soldiers taking

 

BILL STORIES. “25

a group in charge. The remaining cayuses, nine in num-
ber, were driven along by the scout, Nomad, and Milly.

When the water-hole was reached, it was thought best
for the scout, Nomad, Detwiler, and Milly to take supper
in the camp, eating of the rations brought by the soldiers.
They also exchanged their horses for some of those be-
longing to the troopers who had been left at the water-
hole, as those animals had had rest and forage, and, as
a consequence, were fresher.

In spite of their utmost efforts, evening was ay ad-
vanced before the scout, the trapper, the lieutenant, and
the girl could begin their journey.

The lieutenant lingered to give final instructions to
the sergeant, who was to start for Wagon Wheel very
shortly, with all the prisoners mounted, and ae par-
ticular care of Lone Wolf.

In Wagon Wheel, shotild he reach that town in ad-
vance of Detwiler, the sergeant was to herd the Apaches
securely, and wait for his comanding officer to come.

When the smaller party left, Scarred Face was seated

on one of the tayuses, bound and tied to his mount,

which, in turn, was secured to Nomad’s saddle-horn.

ee

CHAPTER XV.
THE FATE OF DARREL.

It was early morning before the scout and his party,
guided by Scarred Face, reached the neighborhood -of
the hut where Darrel and the Hindu had made their
rendezvous, pending the execution of their plans on the
desert.

To reach the hut, the party traversed the same defile
which Buffalo Bill had followed in pursuing the Apaches
who had stolen the provisions.

A mile beyond the second turn of the defile stood hie
hut, a miserable adobe affair, surrounded by sterile hills:

That the gambler and the Hindu. were in the hut
seemed certain, from the fact that six horses were
picketed out on the scant grazing-ground which the defile
offered.

“Tt looks as though Darrel had a full house,’ ob-
served Detwiler, his eyes on the horses. .

“Pour of those animals are Indian cayuses, lieutenant,”
replied the scout.

“Are there four Apaches with Darrel?”

“There were six, if Scarred Face has told us the
truth. One of them was bowled over at the tume the
raid was made on our comissarriat, and Scarred Face
was sent to the Opals, to join Lone Wolf. That would
leave four active reds, although two of them were
slightly wounded.”

“We're good fer ’em, Buffler,” spoke up Nomad.

“T don’t want any fehine with Milly around,”
the scout.

said

 
 

 

26 THE BUFFALO

 

Milly plucked a small six-shooter from the bosom of
her dress.
“You gave this to me, Buffalo Bill,’

> she said, “up at

+)

 

the Notch. If there is any fighting

“Vou're a little brick, Milly,’ cut tm the scout;
all know that.
chances of your getting hurt.

“we
Nevertheless, | don’t want to take any
Detwiler, Nomad, and I
will go forward to the hut, and you're to stay and. take
care of Scarred Face. ave everything is all right in
the hut, you can come in.’

Milly knew how.to obey orders, and eelded erace-
fully to the wishes of the scout. Nomad cast himself
loose from Scarred Face, and passed the leash-rope to
the girl; then, dismounting, the three men hurried on to
the door of the hut.

They did not announce their presence by knocking,
but pushed open the door and walked in. What they

saw astounded them.

The hut, almost destitute of furniture, contained but
one room. In the center of the room, mounted on two
stools, was a long, narrow box. At one end of the box

the Hindu was crouching.

the scout had whis-
he is a hypnotist of

“Be careful of the Hindu’s eves,”
pered to Detwiler, as they entered; “
rare power,”

Hadj Mahal, looking particularly subdued and wo-
begone, started up as the three men entered.

“What would you, sahibs?” he asked.

“Where's Darrel?” asked the scout.

Hadj Mahal stepped back, stared at’the intruders an
instant with his snakelike eyes, then made a gesture to-
ward the box.

” he answered.

Wonderingly, ‘the tives newcomers stepped to the
side of the box and looked down.

Of a surety it was Darrel, Dirk Darrel, the inhuman

monster, the gambler, the.treacherous concocter of deep
schemes for vengeance.

““He is thete, sahibs

‘He looked almost feminine as he lay in the box, his
hands crossed on his breast.

His brown hair waved softly about his white. fore-
head and his eyes were closed.

“Dead!” exclaimed Detwiler.

“Yes, sahib,” said the Hindu humbly.

“How was he killed?’ queried the scout.

“The convulsions, sahib. We both knew he was to
die from them, but we did not believe it would come so
soon.”

“When did this happen?”

“Last night, sahib,’’

.7Make shore of et, Buffler,’ urged Old Nomad
hoarsely. ““Ther pizen blackleg is full 0’ his tricks.”
“Sahib,” spoke up Hadj Mahal sharply, “death settles

every account. If the teniente has done ill, overlook it.”

BILL STORIES.

“Ee cheated er rope, thet’s what he’s done,” growled j
“T ain't got. any fine words ter waste on a
Make shore of

Nomad.
villain like Dirk Darrel, dead er alive.
et, Buffler,” he'added to the scout.

“EF intend to, Nick,” returned Buffalo ney quietly,
“Vou do the same, Detwiler.” :

The scout took one of the gambler’s hands and felt
for the pulse.
ment under the white, soft skin.
the heart;
so far as the scout could tell.

him to draw back.
“T’m satisfied,’ said he.

Detwiler plucked a bit of lint from his coat, and

dropped it on the finely chiseled lips. For five minutes
he kept his eyes on the lint, but it did not move.
“I’m satisfied,’ said he. “The country is well rid of
an evil character.”
“Will you go now, sahibs?” asked the Hindu, averting

his eyes.

“We.shall go directly, my man,’ answered the lieu-
tenant, “and you will go with us.”

“Tet it be so,’ was the humble reply, “but wait until
the burial. Am I] allowed that much time, sahib?”

“Yes. We will wait for it.”

“Thet is what'll settle my doubts,” said Nomad. “Ve
kin bet a blue stack we'll stay.”

Buffalo Bill stepped to the door and beckoned to Milly.
She rode up, leading the captive redskin behind her.

“Any further use for that scarred-face Indian, Buffalo
Bill?” asked Detwiler.

NOS:

“Then let’s not bother with him any longer.”

Detwiler went out and cut the Indian loose.

“Go back to your Reservation,”
hand-talk.
this.”

Without a word, Scarred Face whirled his cayuse and
galloped back down the defile. ‘

Milly dismounted and entered the room. She started
back instinctively at sight of the box.

“Is it Darrel?” she asked.

“Yes. Those fits of his took him off before the law

said he, making the
“Mind, we shall have an eye on you aiter

had a chance.”

Milly passed to the side of the box and looked down
calmly into the face of the gambler. .

“Perhaps it, is better so, Buffalo Bill,” was her com-
ment, as she turned away with a shiver.

At that moment the four redskins came in.

“It is ready,” said one of them to. the Hindu,
Spanish,

Hadj Mahal took the cover of the box from one side
of the room, where it was leaning against the wall,
looked intently into the face of the gambler for an in-

in

He could not detect the slightest move. |
He laid one hand over —
nor was there the slightest movement there, |
He laid one hand on ~
Darrel’s head. The cold and clammy sensation caused

   

     
   

 

 

   
    
  
  
   
  
    
    
 

ta

 
   
 

As

   
 
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
    
  
     
   
  
  
  
   
  
 
  
  
   
  
     

rn

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    
 

stant, then quickly laid ie cover over the box ean nailed
-it down.

This work finished, he motioned to the Indians, Be-

tween them they picked up the box and carried it through

the door and along the defile. Nomad walked beside
them every step of the way, while Buffalo Bill and
Detwiler trailed behind. Milly was left to look after the
horses. '

“Your old pard appears to be peopacal oo re:

' marked the lieutenant, in a low tone.

“That’s because he knew Dirk Darrel so well,”
the scout’s answer.
The Apaches came to a halt beyond a pile of rocks

Was

MH that screened the side of the defile from the cabin.

Here an oblong pit had been dug in a sandy flat. The
pit was seven feet deep. Two shovels laid on the mound

| of sand beside it.

The two unwounded Apaches got down into the pit,
and between them lowered the box. When it was safely
down, they leaped out and fell to work with their
shovels. 7

The work did not ‘take long, and the mound had soon
been heaped up.

No said Detwiler, nen the four Apaches in
Spanish, ‘ ‘you bucks see how quick you can get back to
the Reservation. We know something about what you
have been ‘doing, and if you don’t want more trouble than
you know how to handle, you'll be good Indians from
this on. Hike!”

They hiked, Probably they were thankful to escape
with nothing more than a warning,

Hadj Mahal, bound with a rope found in the ‘hut, was
made fast to his horse; then the scout, the trapper, and
the lieutenant mounted and rgde away. The trapper,
just as when they had traveled up the defile, had a pris-
oner in charge as they traveled the other way. Only the
prisoner, this time, was a Hindu, and not an Apache.

“Thet’s ther finish o’ Darrel,” breathed Nomad, with
intense satisfaction. ‘He’s paid ther penalty, I reckon,
but ['d shore like ter hev seen et paid in anotherAvay.”’

“This way is best, Nick,’ answered Milly.

\

CHAPTER XVI;
CONCLUSION.

En route from the spring back to Wagon Wheel, Buf-
falo Bill managed to.secure a little further information
from Hadj Mahal.

The Hindu appeared greatly dejected, sad apparently
spoke freely. He seemed to feel as though it would be

- well to conceal nothing.

“When you and Darrel left Nugget Notch,” asked the

- scout, “where did you.go?”

THE BUFFALO

BILL’ STORIES. : 27

“Into the hills.”

“And when’ did you come to this section?”

“Directly we heard that you and Nomad were here
sahib.”

“Where did you stay we

“At the Old Man Hickum’s, sahib.”

“Were you present when Martin, the deputy marshal,
was shot by-Darrel ?”

“No, sahib. I had gone to Wagon Wheel.”
“What for ?” ;

“To leave the card and the little package for fie

%

;Sanipe.

“How did you leave it?”

“T laid it on the, hotel counter, sahib, when there was
no one else in the office.”

“Then you went back to Hickum’s ?”

“No, sahib. I hid in the town until_I learned that
the Chinaman had been killed, and not Buffalo Bill.”

“Ah, I see!
to Darrel?”

“Ves, sanib, it wasle:
“Where did you meet Darrel? At Hickum’s?”’

“No, sahib. When I left Hickum’s, Darrel said I was
not to meet him until I could report the result of the
match-case plot; after that, 1 was to meet him in the
hills, at a place we knew of.”

“Who prepared that bogus express package for ie? :
“Darrek (sahips: ;
“Did he go back to the Notch to send it?”

“He -had the package ready, arid in the hands of a
friend, before we came to Wagon Wheel. If that friend
did not hear from him, the friend was to put it in the
cxDiCoS -office.”

“He wrote all those letters binele ie

“Ves, sahib; and fixed up the brown envelope with
the cut tapes and the seals. He was clever, sahib.”’

“He was, fora fact. li 1 had’ been killed by that
loaded match-case, Darrel would have sent word to this
confederate of his in Nugget Notch, and the package

It was you, then, who carried the news

would not have been expressed. Was that the way of

Ibe

“Yes, sahib.”

“Deucedly clever,”

“Infernal cunnin’,
Nomad.

“When did you go to that hut in the defile?” continued
Buffalo Bill. ,

“Directly after I had reached Darrel in the hills, and
told him that the Chinaman, and. not Buffalo Bill, had
met his fate with the match-case.’

“Ah! And what about that hat and dagger: ”

~ I went with Darrel to fix that, sahib. We were about
the work while you and Nomad were looking for us at
the Ten-mile House.”

put in Detwiler.
thet’s my word fer et!’ growled

 
A.

28 THE BUFFALO

“You felt sure that we would bite at the bait offered
by that express package, did you?” | :

“Darrel was always sure of his plans.”

“How about the black diamond? Where did you get
that?” :

“Tt was a piece of hard coal, sahib. The Indians did
not know the difference. I fixed it a little.”

“Waal, I'll be hanged!’ muttered’ Nomad. “Them
thar “Pachies was*goin’ ter burn a human bein’ at ther
stake jest on account of er piece o’ hard coal! Say,
Buffler, ef I had a ton er hard coal, an’ scattered et
through ther Opal Mountings, I reckon I could kill off
ther hull ’Pachie Nation!’

“Then,” went on the scout, still addressing the Hindu,
“after putting that ‘plant’ in the desert, and after hear-
ing from the four Apaches you sent to the spring that
Nomad and I were on the way to the Opals, you sent
Scarred Face to tell Lone Wolf to have four warriors
watch for us from behind Panamint Butte?”

“It was not Ib who did that, sahib,” protested Hadj
Mahal, “but Darrel. It was even as you have said. You
Suffalo Bill; much more clever than Dar-

7

are clevér;
mel.

“Thanks,” said the scout dryly.

“What will you do with me, sahib? Will you set me
free, so that [ may return to my own country ?”

“Well, not that anybody knows of,” struck in Detwiler.
“You'll go to Fort Apaclie, and answer for some of your
crooked work. To my notion, you’re about as smooth as
your gambler master.”

“Very well, sahib,” said the Hindu humbly.

By early afternoon the party had reached Wagon
‘Wheel. The sergeant, with the soldiers and the pris-
oners, were there awaiting their arrival, They had made
a safe journey from the Opals, and had all the Apaches
they had started with, with the exception of the one who
had been wounded in the thigh. This Indian’s wound
had proved more serious than had at first been sup-
posed, and he had succumbed while crossing the desert.

Detwiler had dinner at The Colonel’s Own, with the
scout, the trapper, and Milly; following the dinner, he
bade good-by to Buffalo Bill and his friends, mounted,
and rode away on the Fort Apache trail with his troopers
and prisoners.

That Hadj Mahal, in spite of his seeming humility,
was a slippery fellow to handle was proved conclusively.
by subsequent events.

His first night in the guard-house at the post was
also his last. The soldier who brought him and Lone

Dog» their breakfast was found asleep in the strong
room, stripped of his keys and the revolver he always
wore when attending to the wants of culprits. _ 6

The Hindu and Lone Dog and O’Farrel—a turbulent,
disorderly trooper—were all three among the missing.

should have done with him is a question.
‘believe that he is heading for ’Frisco, with the intention

Bi A: STORIES.

And these, as it happened, were the only persons who
were that night confined in the guard-house.

The fugitives, in some mysterious manner, got ont
of the stockade without challenge by any of the sentries,
Where they went was a question no one could answer.

 

Several squads spent some time hunting for them, but

all returned empty-handed.
Detwiler, in charge of one of the squads, rode into

Wagon Wheel, and acquainted the scout and his friends
with the news. —

“I told you, lieutenant,”
Hindu was a hypnotist.”

“T know you did, and I warned everybody at the post,”
was the lieutenant’s reply; “but no one there appears
to take much stock in hypnotism.” :

“Well, I reckon they'll take some stock in it after this,”

“That's the way |. size the matter(upey lis jst as
well, though, that the whole bunch got away. O’Farrel
wasn't any good to anybody, and the service will ‘be
better off without him; and if Lone Wolf skips across
the border into Mexico, the United States is. well rid of
As for the Hindu, what we ever
I hope and

said the scout, “that the

a trouble-maker.

of taking ship for India. He belongs with the Thugs
of his native country. When all’s said and done, Buf-
falo Bill, Darrel was the man we wanted—and Darrel
is now out of the way for good and all.”
“Well, I’m satisfied, lieutenant, if you are.”
“All’s well that ends well, Cody. I’m going

much whether I have any success or not.” $

Later on, Detwiler loped away with his squad, and
the scout, the trapper, and Milly took horse and started
back to Nugget Notch. The two pards were going
to see the girl safely in her father’s care before icy
went to Fort Apache.

They left Martin, the deputy marshal, rapidly recoyer- ~

ing from his fever, and delighted to think that Dirk
Darrel would no more bother the cohorts of law and
order.

“Somehow,” said Old Nomad, as he rode along with
his pard and Milly, “I got er feelin” thet everythin’ ain't
right.”

“That what isn’t just right, Nick?” asked Buffalo Bill.

“Give et up. I jest feel in my bones, like, thet some-
thin’ er other hes gone wrong.”

“Look out,” laughed the king of scouts,
having dreams like Martin’s.”

Milly, who had heard of the deputy’s oad dream, joined
in the scout’s laugh, and the old trapper loaded his pipe
and fell into silence.

59

“or you'll be

THE, END.

ae next number (363) will be “Buffalo Bill’s Quest
r, Lhe Hidden City of the Hatchet-boys.”

to keep
on scouring the hills until I’m called m, but I don’t care

 
  
 

 

ottighty falls stay the transcontinental road.
> across, the gorge 4oo feet deep by a steel bridge, and a little

 

 

 

 

 

NEW YORK, April 18, 1908.

 

 

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AROUND THE CAMP FIRE.

HUNTING BIG GAME.

A viet to. South and Central Africa will show why great
game has been thinned out so alarmingly that elephant and
giraffe are now rarely seen south of the Zambesi. It is
mainly due to a dozen marvels of railroad enterprise that
are being pushed in order that Cecil Rhodes’ dream of
8,000 miles of track between Cape Town and Cairo should
be realized.

One may now enter a train of palace-cars at Cape Town
and travel 2,000 miles straight to the great Zambesi River,
that, divides the Dark™ Continent in two. Not. even the
It is carried

beyond the traveler is amazed to find the magnificent five-
storied Grand Hotel, with a hundred bedrooms, electric
lights and elevators and fans dumped down amid savage
scenery. In the near vicinity of this strangest of hotels one
may shoot rhinoceros and giraffe, lion and leopard and hippo,
not to mention twenty different kinds of antelope, from the
immense kudu down to the little hartebeest and impala.

It is the famous and costly “Big Game Limited” that
whirls one into the savage heart of Africa. Little more than
fifteen years ago the 750,000 square miles of Rhodesia had
not a mile of railroad. Then came that fatal cattle plague
known as the rinderpest, which denuded the country of even
the most primitive means of transport, and on top of this the
Matabele rebellion of 1896, which resulted in terrible slaugh-
ter of the whites.

These two causes led to great activity of railroad-building
in the vast territory to which Cecil Rhodes gave his name,
and the last 228 miles, from Palapye to Buluwayo, were
laid in the incredibly short space of four and a half months.
Then it was that the old coaching-days in this part of
Africa passed away forever.

It is not until Buluwayo is reached that even the larger
antelopes are seen from the car windows. Within a few

 

THE BURFALO

stigated ‘by the warlike Matabele,

BILL STORIES. oe 29

miles of this boom-town of .the veldt are the wild, rocky
Matoppo Hills, where eleven years ago Cecil Rhodes went
unarmed and almost alone to talk over the Matabele savages
to peace. Here, too, embedded in the solid granite, lies
Cecil Rhodes’ body, the tomb facing a grand panorama of
Central African scenery which the empire-builder himself
called “The View of the World.”

It was in 1898 that Rhodes formulated a scheme for the
extension of the main trunk line from Buluwayo by-way
of Gwelo to the Zambesi and thence onward to Lake Tan-
ganyika. His restless ambition hoped that meanwhile the
British Government would be pushing south through the
swamps and forests of the upper Nile and thus gradually
a Cape to Cairo railway, all British, would be completed.

It is worth noting that the 180 miles from Salisbury to
Gwelo traversed by the Big Game Limited were laid, while
the Boer War was actually raging on Rhodesia’s borders,
so that the contractors had another formidable enemy added
to those already existing, which ranged from man-eating
lions, who terrorized their laborers, to the destructive white
lions, which bored through and destroyed all the timber.

Without fuss, however, the pioneers. persevered, and to-day
the Cape Government railroads issue circular tourist tickets
into the haunts of the wild elephants and lion-ridden jungles.

One novel feature of the Rhodesian section is that mag-
nificent saloon-cars are-provided for private hire. The term
must be at least one month, and the charge includes all
catering. Surely here is a novelty—a magnificent palace
on wheels, lighted with electric light, sumptuously carpeted,
with perfect table-service and card-rooms, drawing-rooms,
luxurious beds fitted with electric fans at the side, miniature
kitchens with Portuguese chefs, a library, shower baths, and
even a stenograplier to take down notes if the big game
hunter contemplates a book.

There is no roughing it in hunting lions and elephants
in this style). The train or private car is used as a base
It is shunted into jungle-sidings as may be required,
Local chiefs

camp.
and tehts taken forward for the day’s trip.
provide trackers and beaters, and the necessary money—
chiefly cotton cloth, brass wire, ae cowrie shells—is car-
ried on the wonderful train.

If required the Rhodesian Railroads, Limited, will send

an expert taxidermist with the party, so that lion and ante- |
lope heads may be set up literally while you wait, and exe.*

ceptionally fine tusks mounted on fancy stands. Just ‘such
a trip was undertaken recently by Sir Edmund and Lady
Lechmere, and also by Mr. and Mrs. Alan Gardner. Both

couples are well known as big game hunters.

How one of the old-time shots like F. C. Selous must
marvel at such changed conditions! In his day, only twenty
years ago, there’ were no railroads in this part of Africa at
all, and he had to trek up-country for five or six months
by ox-wagon before the shooting- grounds were reached. On
the other hand, game was infinitely more abundant in those
days. Selous was a professional ivory- -hunter, and his record
is 300 elephants in a single month,

Many of the wayside stations just south of the Zambesi
recall fierce and bloody memories. Thus at little Norton

eight or ten years ago the weak- kneed Mashona tribes, in-
rose in rebellion and

am,

 
30

slaughtered, Administrator Norton and Mrs. Norton, their
children, and the English nurse.

Just beyond Norton the Big Game Limited runs through
an oddly contorted forest of mahogany, teak, and mopani
wood. The trunks were twisted into strange fantastic shapes
years ago through having been torn and trampled upon as
saplings by the vast herds of elephant that roamed over
all this district.

After a stay at the strangest of Grand Hotels in the very
heart of Central Africa, the traveler may push on yet ture
ther north to Broken Hill, another 400 or 500 miles. In
places he will see the lords of the jungle gazing innocently
at the express as it thunders by. Vast herds of zebra are
seen grazing like cattle in a field at home; and here and there
one notices the telegraph-wires torn down, most likely by
mischievous elephants or terrified giraffes flying from their
natural enemy, the lion.

There is really very little of a gap left to empl. the
Cape to Cairo stretch of 8,000 miles, and at railhead to-day
the wealthy traveler will find himself in a wilderness more
wild and dense than any that even Stanley or Livingstone
faced a quarter of a century ago.

Ha RAs eee eee
WINDMILL-SIGNALING.

To the casual observer viewing a Dutch landscape there

\

is nothing to arrest the attention in the fact that possibly

one or more out of a dozen windmills in sight are to all
appearances simply standing idle while the others continue
their never-ending task.

If one watches the sails of the idle mills closely it may
perhaps be noticed that they move slightly from time to
time and thén remain for a while at a different angle. If
this is so, the miller is in all probability engaged im holding

a conversation with the proprietor of the cher mill, which -

may be miles away; in fact, possibly barely visible on the
horizon,

Quite recently the Dutch Government carried on a series
of experiments in order to ascertain the value of windmill-
signaling for military purposes, and were surprised to find
that communication could readily be established with far
distant centers and that confidential messages could be sent

on. from one mill to another and so forwarded throughout.

the length and breadth of Holland in.an incredibly short
time by means of secret codes known only to the millers
themselves.

These codes have been handed down from generation to-

generation, and jealously guarded from outsiders with all the
intense conservatism for which. the provincial Dutch are
proverbial. Apart, however, from these secret codes, under-
stood only by the millers and local groups of mill-owners,
there exists a series of, windmill signals with which every one
of the inhabitants of the country districts is familiar.

At times, for instance, a mill may stop working suddenly
and the miller be seen to.come out and, with the aid of a
long pole with an iron hook at the end like a gigantic boat-
hook, reach up and drag down the descending sail until the
arms assume a certain position, Every one knows immedi-
ately that some accident has happened to the wooden ma-
chinery of the mil], and that the services af the local car-
penter are required.

{HE BUFFALO

BILL STORIES, :

BY JAMES REYNOLDS.

 

“T’ve passed nearly half my life on hossback, mister,”

' said Dick Burleigh, one evening, to me, shortly after we

had had supper and concluded our camp arrangements
by leading our horses to water and then staking then in
the young, succulent prairie-grass that grew for unaum-
bered miles around us; “but of all my rides there was
on’y one that made the ha’r stand right straight up! By
gracious! the stiffenin’ didn’t git eout of it ae a fort-
night arterward.”’

“Well, let us hear the particulars of that ride, Dick,”
I said, as I lit the tobacco in my pipe and commenced
smoking it, by way of refreshment or sedative to my
nerves, which were somewhat irritated by the mishaps of
a long and wearisome day’s journey.

“Waal, ye see,’ commenced Dick, as he threw himself
on the turf and leaned his long, lank body against the
trunk of an oak-tree, “I’ve bene on the perarie and in

the mountains in the sarvice of one or the other of the
St.. Lewis fur companies, man an’ boy, nigh on ter forty
years,-and after Injins and peltry I’ve did a considerable
of rough ridin’; but on’y oncejwas I in real trouble, an

that was when a pooty Injun gal gripped a tight hold o’
~this yere heart o’ mine in a way it’s never got over to

this yere day.”

“Ah, ha, Dick!’ I cried, “so you havébeen in love, eh?
Why, I thought you were a confirmed old bachelor, look-
ing upon your rifle as your truest companion.”

Had not my interlocutor’s face been deeply tanned by
exposure to the sun and winds of many a yeat/ passed
on the prairie, I am persuaded I would have seen it suf-
fused with blushes as crimson as those of the shyest
maiden.

“Waal, mister,’ he replied, “it’s true I’m an old mate-
less buck; but it’s also true that that ’ ere Injin gal, ef I'd
had my own way with her, would ’a’ made a different
chap o’ Dick Burleigh. ~I do b’leeve she war in love with
me; but she acted j Jess like a possum, an’ I cpuldn't bring
her down nohow.”

“What had she to do with the ride?”

“TIL come tc that bimeby,” responded Dick. “Yer see,
I war, the season I’m speakin’ of, up trappin’ among the

‘Crows—we war on pooty good Hants with ’em, an’ usual-

ly quartered in one or other o” their villages, whar we
cured our beaver, which we caught in one or other o’ the
tributaries of the Yaller Stone. Jem Beckwith, who was
head devs of the Crows at the time—their big chief—
was in the company’s employ, and, while he passed off as
a Injin among the redskins, was a real white. How-
somdever, our company, through him, had the monopoly
of the Crow territory, from the Black Hills to the Rocky
Mountings, and an easy time we gin’rally had of it.

“Of course, we all of us trappers pretended to look on
Jem as a real redskin, and to respect him as chief of the
nation, and that tickled his followers mightily, particu-

larly as he was down on the Blackfeet; the greatest

hoss- thieves eout, ‘ceptin’, of course, the us
“The village to which I attached myself when the sum-

4)
a

x

“AO An -

 

i

 
     

x

her had set well in, moved tip to the forks of the river,
lext where the hot sulfur springs are, that they, like other
ashionable folks, might have their stomicks cleaned
out, jest as I’m told the big bugs o’ York go to Sary-
ogy tu git themselves built up for the next winter’s big
trunk,
; __ Now, yer SEG, there was a gal in that ’ ‘ere village that
es’ tuk the ha’r off o’ this yere lead o’ mine for pooti-
fess. My! but wasn’t she han’some! an’ I guess: she
fnew it; for | war darn fool enough onct tu give her a
ookin’-glass, an’ from that moment she ptt on airs.
There’s no use talkin’,
at yere glass, I b’lieve I’d a made Perairie Flower—
frat war her name—Mrs. Dick Burleigh.

‘“Howsomdever, Perairie Flower always stuck by me
when I war in the village, an’ she’d make moccasins an’
Dther things for my use that’d tickle me e’enmost tu
Heath. Jem Beckwith used tu say that I’d fixed her flint
for her, an’ all I’d hev tu do ‘u’d be tu tuck her under
ly arm an’ invite her ta my lodge, where she mout take

are o’ the furnitur’ an’ do the cookin’.

“Somehow, mister—from a nat’ral bashfulness, I
s pose—I kept delayin’ the happy, hour, I couldn't zackly
Bay where I’d pitch my tent, an’ | didn’t want to keep
my Perairie Flower a-galivantin’ round from pillar ta

mpost. If I’d- got to be big chief, like Beckwith, Id ’a
fastened on tu her mighty quick, I tell you. But that
isn’t yere nor thar neow.”

And Dick gave forth a sigh that reminded me very
much of the blowing off of steam oft a Mississippi high-
pressure boat.

“Waal,” hej continued, “we moved, that is the Injins

mdid, up to the springs, an’, of course; we follered for pro-
tection against. the thievin’ Blackfeet an’ the sneakin’ As-
Bsanoboins, an’ to trap beaver. S’pose you never war up
to them hot springs? Waal, ther jes on the dividin’-line
tween the Blackfeet an’ Crow grounds, an’ mighty nigh
ontu the Rocky Mountings, an’ jes in abeout the worst
Some o’ the sides

  
     
  
      
  
   
  
 

figcountry for hoss-flesh you ever seed.
mo. the hills thar air as steep as a wall in St. Lewis, an’ a
nighty sight higher an’ deeper—places so steep that war
you to jump from the top o’ one 0’ ’em when a boy you'd
be a old man afore ye struck yeatth ag’in.” !
“Rather steep, that, Dick,” I remarked, ,
fm Dick, however, didn’t see the point, and continued ;

   

66

We hadn't much more’n got well settled—the two vil-
ages 0’ the Crows were how together, as thur wur
plenty o’ feed fur thur hosses—an’ our traps sot, when
who should we see hoverin’ round but them pesky Black-
feet. They'd smelled our animiles and wur on the path
for °em—regular hoss-stealers. Jem Beckwith got up a
expedition to head the cusses off. He sent a gang o’ our
thieves quietly into the Blackfoot country, an’ the rest he
nade watch our own animiles, nigh ontu three thousand
head, pretty closely-—so close that the Blackfeet got kind
0 narvous, an’ showed their hands more’n once, which,
oO course, tickled Jem most to death.
"For nearly three weeks the thieves kept hoverin’
Bround us; but nary animile did they tech. Meantime,
four thieves got into the country o the enemy an’ col-
lected about a thousand head o’ the puttiest-hosses you
ever laid your eyes on. When the Blackfeet found eout
10w’t theyid ‘been tricked, warn’t they mad! You could
a’'most hear thar teeth enash together, altho’ they wur a
dozen ‘miles from us.
“All-at onet IR disappeared. Jem thought somethin’

  
 

THE BUFEPALO BILL” STORIES,

mistet ; but ef it hadn’t ’a’ bin for ‘

‘and gobbled up half our herd.

 

ot

   

wur up, an’ he sent scouts out arter, em; but nothin’
could be heard 0’ ’em. Some o’ our warriors managed
to penetrate to their village disguised ; but pump as they
would not a thing could he got out 0’ ’em, 'cept that Jem,
our big chief, was wise—that his medicin’ wur good, an’
that thar wur no use contendin’ agin’ him. Of course,
when this was reported to Beckwith, he regarded it as
so much palaver. He was satisfied that the Blackfeet had
some scheme on foot, an’ he was resolved to thwart it.

“The summer, howsomdever, wore away, an’ nothin’
more wur heard o’ the would-be thieves. Id nothin’ to
do but trap an’ make love to Perairie Flower, who allers
liked to hev me by her side. But, somehow, whenever
I felt that it wur time to build a wigwam o’ my own, ary’
that I'd want her to mind it for me when I was away
a-huntin’ or trappin’, my heart would rise squar’ inter my
throat an’ stop me from talkin’. I know I was a big
fool, mister, for bein’ so bashful. But what wur a feller
to do when he couldn’t open his mind? Perairie Flower
got prouder an’ prouder, the pooty little witch, every
day, an’ that air lookin’-glass wur continerally in her
hands.

“()’ course, notwithstandin’ the warnin’s of Jem, the
Injins got tired huntin’ an’ trappin’.. They would be off
on the war-path, an’ go they would. They got up a row
with the Dacotahs, an’ nothing but blood an’ “scalps would
satisfy their wounded honor. When Jem saw that they
were bound to fight, he proposed that the villages should
divide an’ go down to the Big Horn, whar the animiles
would be safer from the thieves o’ the Blackfeet.

“This wur agreed to, an’ the villages divided for the
winter. Beaver had given out, an’ Jem advised us to-go
back with him, which, o’ course, we agreed to. For my
own part | couldn’t stay away from Perairie Flower.
We picked up our traps, an’ es ue a saddled or
animiles. We'd hed a good ketch, an’ knew we'd be
welcome at the tradin’-post, whar a bia ne wok awaited us.

“It was jest for this movement “the Blackfeet had
waited. They had a idea that they could git in among
our animiles and stampede ‘em afore we could help our-
selves,

‘In goin’ deown the Yaller Stone the thieves collected
around. us, and one. night, when the greater part of our
people war out foragin’, the cusses swept deown ontu us,
That warn’t the wust ont.
They had a fancy for our young women, and they jest
cum right inter the midst of ‘em and cleaned ‘em right
eout—my pooty Perairie Flower among the rest.

wile happened, at the time this took place, that I war
some distance eout a-huntin’, and when I got back the
red devil that stole her—Little B’ar, an old squaw told
me he war called—war well on his way tu the. upper
forks o’? the Missoury River, right in the mountings.
Gracious, warn’t I mad! I went straight to Jem Beck-
with, who was as mad as myself ‘cause the thieves had
carcumvented him, and told him I wanted jest the best
critter 0’ a hoss he had left. Jem was a trump. When I
told him what had happened, he loaned me his critter,
an’ told me which way 1’d better go ef I would git back
my gal. What I knew of Little B’ar wasn’t much; but I
wat ” satisfied that I could lick him in a fair fieht ; his
only advantage over me would be his knowle dee o the
trails in the mountings, whar he could take short cuts to
his own village. I knew he war alone. He had had a
sheakin’ idea for Perairie Flower for/a long time, an’
neow that he’d got her, he war resolved tu make tracks

 
 

  

a2 Vie BURPALO,
straight back tu his village, leavin’ his thieves tu follow
with the booty.

“T soon found the cuss’ trail, and follered sharp ontu
it. All night I traveled, hopin’ tu cum up with him; but
as it war bright moonlight, he kept on, with his precious
“ burden in his arms.

“For two days an’ nights I follered sharp, but he still
kept ahead. At length I crossed the Missoury, findin’
fresh tracks all the time.

“On the third night I war well inter the opens o’ the
hills, an’ still the tracks o’ Little B’ar's hoss was before

e; but I saw that the critter was beginnin’ to give
eout, an’ ef driven much longer’d be used up. Little
B’ar warn't a fool, I knew, an’ he would try tu play the
blind on any one who'd be attemptin’ to foller him.
tu once the trail gev eout!—the tracks ceased! I knew

that the B’ar was at one o’ his games; an’ I jest drew in
an’ dismounted. I warn’t a-goin’ any farther that night.

“Tyin’ my _hoss tu a tree, givin’ him rope enough to
pick up somethin’ tu eat, I climbed the tallest piece of tim-
ber I could pick eout an’ took a ginral look over the
country, which, howsomdever, warn't very far, owin’ tu
the onevenness o’ the ground. Still I stayed up thar, an’
I kept my eyes aroun’ me. Little B’ar couldn't be far
off, | knew. Abeout midnight, I should judge, I saw,
scarce a mile off, on a hill on t’other side oO. a deep creek,

a little thread o’ light. It war a fire; an’ how my heart
jumped——Peraitic Flower war thar.

“T got eout o' that tree-quick, an’, shoulderin’ my gun,
4 made straight for the light. I hed some difficulty in
crossin’ the creek; but I managed that, an’ when I found
myself on the side o’ the hill, I moved noiselessly—so
noiselessly that the sharp ears o’ Little B’ar never heerd
a sound. Gradually I worked my way up tu the camp,
an’ from behind a tree I could see right squar’ inter it.
Thar wat poor Perairie Flower a-sittin’ down_on the
groun’, with her head between her knees, an’ her captor
crouched cozily by the fire, a-smokin’ an’ lookin’ as inner-
cent as if he war a angel!

“I could ’a’ finished himeright off with my gun, an’
war about tu do it, when, I’ll be bless’d, when I looked
agin at that, ere Specimen 0° a pooty woman, ef she
warn't a lookin’ an’ fixin’ her ha’r in the glass I’d given
her, an’ as unconsarnedly as ef she war in her own lodge
an’ me a-settin’ by her side, a-makin’ sweet speeches tus
her in Injin! That ’ere sight jest tuk the feelin’ I hed
agin’ Little Bar right eout o’ me, it did. Howsomdever,
I warn't a-goin’ tu give her up tu the Blackfoot that way.
I'd hev her back, but by cunnin’ this time. It was évi-
dent the gal didn’t mind her captivity a bit. That look-

in’-glass war her consolation. To it she turned an’ .com-
forted herself.

“IT went back for my hoss, an’ soon had him across
the creek. It was now beginning to.be day. Mounting
the critter, I made straight » for. Little B’ar’s campin’-
ground; but when I entered it with a whoop, the birds
had flown. I again follored, and kept cautiously in their
track all the day, up and down the durndest, roughest
country I ever seed.

“Jest as it war growin’ dark, I got onto a harrow
ledge o’ a hill wide enough for a hoss to step on, an’ no
more. Qn each side there war a precipice so steep that
it made my head dizzy to look down it. At the farthest
end o’ the ledge stood Little Brar and his captive. His
horse war a little in advance o’ him. Had it been light
enough I’d ’a’ shot the feller; but I somehow war afraid

BILL STORIES.

sysmelt a Blackfoot:

All

‘labor, manage to get up ag’in on the ledge.

 

 

  
 
 
    

     

o’ hittin’ Perairie Flower. I couldn't -dism
couldn’t go back, so theré war only one thing Ie
and that war to go forred an’ take the chances.
mile was full.o'/fire, an’ not a bit tired, any Be
It war with difficulty I cou
him from galloping as we neared the Injin. Jes
got within a few paces o' him, an’ I war about.
my gun to bear on his body, an’ then. called
Riawee to come to me, the thief gave a terrific war-) V
that startled my animile, It threw him onto his haw
an’ the next moment we war over the ledge a-goi
down a thousand feet, into the darkness below.
descended I heard the triumphant cry o’ the thie
war mad. In less time than I kin tell you this t
war half-way down the hill, an’ I on his back.
nately, he got off the ledge head first, an’ he ha
enongh to throw his fore feet forward, and draw h
feet under his belly. The Injin thought, we war
to pieces; but we wartn’t. We slid down that
precipice like lightnin’, and landed safe an’ sound
Every minute I thought we'd be dashed to pieces
the animile had swerved a foot in his descent eith
we would have been. :

“I thanked my stars when I got to a place a
but on lookin’ round I saw that “right under me,
dred feet below, there foamed an’ dashed a mounti
rent. We war in a worse fix than before. I cor
to stay in that yere place all night. In fact, I coul
I wanted to, get off it.

“When daylight broke, I could see what a fearf
I had taken on that steep hillside: I wondered
ever got down it. It was Providence that dir
for had the critter got off the ledge a hundred fee
way, we'd ’a’ bin dashed to pieces on the rocks t
hundreds o’ feet below us. The brave hoss I cou
up the hill ag’in. It was too difficult a job fo
had to kill him, poor critter. I could o'ly, with
Litt
and Pee aie Flower war no longer thar. I saw.
no use to foller ’em, so with a sigh at the loss of mj
sweetheart, I made tracks back on the road I'd cor
it war a long journey to the Yaller Stone, whar T
with some trappers, and so got helped to the
post, whar to‘kill my grief I got onter the bigges
ever war on in my life.”

“And what became of Prairie Flower: .

“Surely you didn't give her up that way.’ ;

“It war o’ no manner O use to renew the cha
felt-miserable for a time.”

“So that’s the end of your story 2”

"Mighty nigh it. About two years arter, I w
pin’ in the Blackfoot country. Them Injins pron
protect us. One day I entered thar village, an’ fh
first woman I séed war Perairie Flower! Shes
papoose tied to her back. It was the child of Littl
an’ she war its mother! Blast me, mister,’ ef she fi
that same identical lookin’-glass in her hand
guv to her, an’ war admirin’ herself in it! But sh
half as pooty/as when I courted her. She spoke ™
enough to me; but she loved the father of her pa
She coolly told me that she thought, an’ so did he
band, when my horse went over the ledge, I was
on the big stones below, and my being eout 0’ the}
she thought she might jest as well 1 love ‘Little B’ar as
body else. Mister, Tet’ Ss go liquor, an’ then to sleep.
pipe’s out, an’ I’m kind 0’ tired.” a

  
 

 

   
  
   
   
   
  
  
    
  
     
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
     
  
   
   
  
    
    
     
   
     
  
       
     
   
  
    
   
   
    
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
     
   
   
   
   
  
    

 

    
  
  

     
 

 

 

. ee) © = ¥. 4
BUFFALO BILL STORIES

ISSUED EVERY TUESDAY

‘BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVER s

Buffalo Bill wins his way into the heart of ever
one who reads the strong stories of stirring adventure o
the wide prairies of the West published in this week
Boys, if you want tales of the West that ar
drawn true to life, do not pass these. by.
PRICE FIVE CENTS PER COPY

For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, by the publishers to any address upon receipt of price in money or postage stamps

oa

 

HERE ARE THE LATEST TITLES:

331—Buffalo Bill and the Indian Queen; or, The Ghost
Flower’s Mission.
332—Buffalo Bill and the Mad Marauder;
For a Foe:
333—Buffalo Bill’s Ice Barricade; or, The Red and
White Renegades of Powder River.
The Mail

or, A King

334—Buffalo Bill and the Robber Elk; or,
seekers of the Range.

335—Buffalo Bill’s Ghost Dance; of, The Thrall of the
Lightning That Strikes.

336—Buffalo Bill’s . Peace Pipe; or, The Casket of Mys-
tery.

337—Buffalo Bill’s Red Nemesis; or, The White Captive

é of the Sioux.

338—Buffalo Bill’s Enchanted Mesa; or,

cess of ithe Moquis.

339—Buffalo Bill in the Desert of Death; or,
Secret of the Jasper Joss.

340—Buffalo Bill’s Pay Streak; or,
Trouble for the ’Paches.

341—Buffalo Bill on Detached Duty ;
the Bad Ax Trail.

342—Buffalo Bill’s Army Mystery ;
Catamount Puzzle.

343—Buffalo Bill’s Surprise Party ;
of the Picketwire.

oe eee Duls 4areat Ride: or,
Handsome Elk.

345—Buftalo Bill’s Water Trail;
Fort Totten.

346—Buffalo Bill’s Ordeal of Fire;
Coteaus.

The Lost Prin-

or, The Break on

or, The Rope-and-

or, The Red Raiders
The Capture of
, The Still Hunt at

or, Trapped in the

The
A Box Full Of

 

347—Buffalo Bill ° Among the Man- Raters: One ataae |
tery of Tiburon. Island.

348—Buffalo Bill’s Casket of Bearls : or, The aost Ti
ure of the Montezumas.

349— Buffalo Bill’s Sky Pilot; or, The Pie a Bo

350—Buffalo Bill’s “Totem”; or, The Mystic Shit
the Yaquis.

351—Butffalo Bill’s Flat-boat Drift; or, Taming the
sissippi Tigers.

352—Buffalo Bill on Deck; or, The Strange Pilo
River Belle.

353—Buffalo Bill and the Bronco Buster; or, The It
of Wolf Fang.

354—Buffalo Bill’s Great Round-up; or, Trailing
Red Cattle-rustlers.

355—Buffalo Bill’s Pledge;
Narrow Path.

356—Buffalo Bill’s Cowboy Pard:; or, Hoofs and Hy
on the Chisholm Trail.

357—Buffalo Bill and the Emigrants:
Captain of the Wagon Train.

358— Buffalo Bill Among the Pueblos; or,
Hunt of Professor Bings.

3590-—Buffalo Bill’s Four-footed Pards: of, tranine VW
Ute “Shisiers.”

360—Buffalo Bill’s Protégé; or, Foiling a Nihilist P|

361—Buffalo Bill Bncaared- Oe, The Witeh of the Paintiid
Desert.

362—Buffalo Bill’s Pick- “UD; oF, The Secret of the
‘and Dagger.

363—Buffalo Bill’s Otiest; or, The Hidden ane of +1
Hatchet: boys. \

or, The Vultures of

ot, Phe Ph
ues

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