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The king of scouts moved
like lightning. His spurred heels
jingled once, for he only had to
take a single jump, and his fist
shot out, landing squarely on the
King Pin’s jaw.

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A WEEKLY PUBLICATION

 

 

 

4tssued Weekly.

By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. V. Post Office, le STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Sante Ave, N.Y.

Copyright, 1910, by STREET & SMITH.

No. 492,

NEW YORK, October 15, 1910.

Price Five Cents. ,

BUFFALO BILL’S O. K.

OR,

Be

Pawnee Bills

Lon 5

Warning.

a,

 

By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.

/

f CHAPTER I.
THE BARON PLAYS HOBO.

Villum von. Schnitzenhauser, otherwise “the Baron,’
Buffalo Bill’s Dutch pard, was in trouble. It was not
the first time he had been in‘trouble, by any means, but
never before had he encountered trouble of this par-
ticular kind.

As a rule, the baron was very fond of having things

-go wrong with him. He was so fond of it, in fact, that

he had been known’to go out of his road to flag some-
thing in the way of hard luck, just to stir up excitement

-and make life worth the living. But, for all that, he

found nothing pleasant in the situation which confronted
him in the town of Tickaboo. _

In order that the reader may understand the tight
corner into which fell fortune had backed the baron,
a few explanations wall be necessary.

On the morning of the day precedifig that in which

' the baron found himself at odds with fate, he had bid-

den a blithe farewell to Buffalo Bill, Nomad, and Little
Cayuse and had left Tickaboo in a: wagon for a ranch
twelve miles away in the hills. .

The wagon belonged to a man named Vogel. Vogel
was a German, who-had happened to fall in with the
baron. Whenever the baron fell in with a fellow coun-
tryman he always fell pretty deep. He liked Vogel and
Vogel liked him. Vogel invited him to go out to the

 

ranch and meet Mrs. Vogel and a promising crop of

young Vogels, and the baron was powerless to resist,

So, leaving his saddle mule, Toofer, in the stable of

the Tickaboo hotel, to be fed and ‘watered by Little Ca-
yuse, the baron embarked gayly in the Vogel wagon for
the Vogel ranch.

The Dutch had a high old time at Vogel’s hat night.
The baron was not enly made acquainted with the V ogel
tribe, but Vogel sent out one,of his five boys to round
up half a dozen more Dutchmen. They all came, and
there was a little impromptu. party in honor of the
baron. Beéing a pard of Buffalo Bill’s, the baron reflected
a little glory and was an object of interest and admira-
tion.

He enjoyed the admiration first-rate, and with a long
pipe in one hand, and a stein full of his ‘favorite beverage
in the other, he reeled off yarn after yarn of his expe-
riences with the king of scouts and the ‘prince of. the
bowie. They were yarns in which the baron was the
hero, and as a sample of the way he could draw the
long bow they were simply immense.- He had the little
Vogels scared under the bed, and the big Vogels and

. their other guests staring wide-eyed and breathing only
* when necessary. Yes, indeed, the baron certainly was

happy. é
Later in the evening the baron was introduced to a
game called gaigel. He remembered, the next morning,

     

 
 

2

that it was played with cards, and that Vogel, and an-
other man named Bauermeister, had annexed all the
cash in his clothes, amounting to some twenty-eight dol-
lars.

The loss of that twenty-eight dollars was what dragged
the baron into his perplexing difficulties on the follow-
ing afternoon. Vogel drove him back to town in the
wagon, setting him down at the Tickabdo hotel at 3 P. M.
After bidding Vogel an affectionate farewell, the baron
strolled into the hostelry—and into the pitfall that fate
had prepared for him,

He inquired for Buffalo Bill, and Was dazed to learn
that Buffalo Bill, Nomad, and Little Cayuse had saddled
up somewhat unexpectedly on the. afternoon of the pre-
ceding day, and started for Last Chance, some forty
miles into the heart of the hills. They had taken Toofer
with them.

While the baron was recovering from the shock
brought on by this information, the proprietor of the
hotel shoved a letter into his hands.

“Buffalo Bill left that for ye, baron,” said the pro-
prietor.. “He allowed ye’d show up here, this after-
noon, an’ I reckon the letter explains why he ast out
‘sO stidden.”

‘The baron flocked by himself, in one corner of the
office, while he opened the letter and spelled out its « con-
tents.

“DEAR Baron: A hurry-up call has just Senived from
Pawnee Bill, per telegraph, summoning us posthaste to
Last Chance. I don’t know the cause of this sudden call,
but Pard Pawnee wouldn’tiave sent it if it hadn’t been
important. The message was received just too late for

us to take the 7 P. M. train which leaves daily over the »

Jerk Water road, so we’re going by horse. We're towing

Toofer along, and expect you to follow by the evening

train to-morrow. We'll meet you in Last C hance.
“Hastily, _ Burrato. Birt.”

There was the trouble. The baron dropped the letter
on his knee and fell back in the chair. Vogel and Bauer-
meister had gaigled him out of every red cent he had had
in his clothes, and how was he to pay his fare to Last
Chance?

Gettingy up unsteadily he walked over to the office
counter.

“How mooch is der pill vat I got here for eating und
shleeping ? * he inquired of. the proprie tor.

“Buffalo Bill paid that, baron,’ was the answer.

The. baron coughed and leaned as carelessly as he’
could on the counter’s edge.

“How mooch iss der fare py der railroadt to Last
Shance rhe’ asked,

“Four dollars. It’s a minin’ proposition—that rail-
road—an’ they charge like all get-out.”

There didn’t seem much “get-out” about it to the baron
——-at least not for him. “Four dollars! And he hadn’t
a sou.

THe might have pledged his pec alvers for his fare,
but Bauermeister was wearing them. Also, Vogel had
his dirk knife with the stag handle.

that the baron put up the guns and the knife after
ete his twenty-eight dollars.

The bron started to inquire if there were any one in
‘ickaboo from whom he could draw four dollars, but
the inquiry never got out. Pride muzzled it. The baron

Vogel had explained —

&

: THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

did not want the scout to discover that he had been gam-
bling, for the scout had no use for that form of’ amuse-
ment. If the baron borrowed four dollags in Tickaboo,
the news would reach the scout, and the scout would
begin asking unpleasant questions about the twenty-eight
and the guns and the knife.

The baron had his pipe, and he filled it ‘and began to
smoke. A forty-mile walk did not appeal. taghim, anc
yet it was necessary for him to obey orders and get to
Last Chance as soon as possible. How was he to do it?

Six o'clock arrived and he had not “tracked this des-
perately hard nut. The supper gong sounded, and the
tide of hungry guests set in toward the dining room.
Usually the baron was the first man to jump when the
gong sounded, but now he hung moodily to his chair.

“Ain't ye goin’ in an’ feed, baron?” inquired the sur-
prised proprietor.

“IT make a bet mit Vogel dot I don’t ead nodding for
two tays,’ explained the baron. “I hope,” he added, by
way of a feeler, “dot Puffalo Pill only paid for me oop
to der time he left?”

‘That’s all,” said the proprietor.

The baron heaved a long sigh and got up.

“T don’d feel so hungry as iss ee der case mit
me, anyvay, said he. “I go py der railroadt station
und see aboudt dot drain for. Last’ Shance.<,

At the station he inquired about freight trains.

“Won't be no freight up fer a couple 0’ days,”
the agent.

The baron had made up his mind to play the hobo. It
wasn't such a difficult matter to steal a ride on a freight
train, but it was impossible for him to wait a couple "of
days.

‘ As he stepped back from the ticket agent’s window, a
middle-aged, prosperous-looking man in Eastern clothes
bustled into the. waiting room.

“Ticket to Last Chance,” said he, through the window.

In paying for the ticket he drew from his pocket a
roll of bills as big as his wrist. \ The baron smothered
a groan at sight 1st all that money, and went out on
the station platform.

A wind was rising, and there were angry-looking clouds
in the evening sky. The switch lights down the yard

gleamed cheerlessly. The only really comfortable-looking
place was the interior of the lighted coaches of the Tick-
aboo train, which was standing in front of the station.

Tickaboo was the terminus of the “Jerk Water’ line,
and all trains to the mines started from the town. There
were a combination mail and baggage car, and two pas-
senger coaches.

The baron walked up the platform tn the engine to
examine the “blind baggage.” He found, however, that
there was a door in both ends of the combination car.

Stealing around the pilot of the throbbing locomotive,
he returned toward the rear of the train on the side
farthest from the station. He studied the brake beams,
and even tried te squeeze himself into a place under one
of the coaches, Even to think of riding in such a way

®

said

.made his skin get up and walk ail over him with cold

No, he ,wouldn’t ride under the train, it wouldn’t be
safe to ride on the front end or the, rear, and the only
place left was on top.

As he made his way warily past the That coach, he saw
the prosperous-looking, middle-aged man with the bank
roll taking his ease in one of the seats. Four men who

 

 

 

 
 

 

=

 

~ seemed to split the hills.

get the full benefit of it,

oo HE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. © ae

looked like miners, and had faces which should have
put «hem behind the bars on general principles, had
thrown two seats together, and were playing cards.

“TI yonder iss it gaigel?’’ murmured the baron sadly.

Those five were the only passengers in the last car.

Taking a look around the rear end of the train, the
baron saw the conductor and brakeman talking with the
engineer on the platform. It was near-seven o’clock—
the time for the train to pull out.

Very quietly, but with all kinds of determination, the
baron mounted the rear platform of the last car, climbed
to the hand rail, and then to the brake wheel.

The cars were low and old-fashioned. Air brakes, in
that day, were unknown.

Balancing himself erect on the brake wheel, the baron
was-ble to seize the edge of the car roof with his hands.
Then, by dint of much squirming, he managed to get

himself onto the roof, and to the ridge that runs down

the middle of passenger cars. Ventilators were open
in the sides of the ridge, and he flattened out, with his
hand clasping the edge of a ventilator opening.

Just at that moment the conductor’s “All aboard!”
was drowned in a crash of thunder. The train started

‘for Last Chance amid/an electrical display that promised

a hard storm—and the baron was right where he could

i

CHAPTER Fl
FOUL PLAY.

The Tickaboo, Last Chance and Southern Railroad
had been built by private enterprise. It was necessary, to

the development of the mines, and not many frills had
been expended upon it in the building. The rails and

ties wangled tortuously through the rough
climbed steep grades and crossed dizzy cafions.
It had cost a vast amount of money to get.the line

country,

through, but the mines—most of them—were of fabulous

richness, and the railroad alone had brought about their
full development.

The baron’s position on the car roof was precarious in
the extreme. Every time the train whipped a curve, he
was put to it to keep himself from being rolled off. lf
he dropped from the top of the train there was no tell-
ing where he would land. It might be in the bottom of
a gulch, or against the wall of a tunnel; or on sharp-
pointed rocks. Wherever it was, his chances. for escap-
ing with his life would be slim.

To add to his peril and discomfort, the storm broke
with a pent-up fury which brought the baron’s” heart
into his throat. Lightning ran all around him like fiery
serpents, hissing and crackling, and the jarring thunder
A smother of rain hurled it-
self over, him and so drenched the car roof that he had
to hang to the ventilator openings with both hands in
order to keep himself on his slippery perch.

- There was light and comfort inside the car. The

_ baron, by craning his neck, could catch glimpses of the

middle- -aged man, smoking and taking his ease; and to
the baron’s ears ‘came the loud laughter of the four
card players.

“TI peen vorking my bassage, all righdt, dis trip,”
thought the baron, slopping miserably around on the

roof, “und all on agount oof dot Vogel und dot Bauer-

oh 3.) Seer aes ten eh ABE eat SORA AAA nee comnn eae

 

mo penny ete ams aa meta ee tS RM et ec tee ey emg rene AK NP eg HE ARK arg
jai a a ecanal ala TS a a aa A

mister.
takes a leg, py shinks.”

The train rolled into a dreary little sation and left

a very slim mail sack. No one got on or off, and the
man who took the mail scudded back to cover without
loss of time.

The baron, had he so desired, could have slipped from
the car roof to solid ground. His physical troubles would
have been at an end, at least. No such thought, however,
entered his head. Whenever he made up his mind to do
a thing, he usually did it. He had that excellent trait
which Athericans call gameness, and could not have been
pried from his roost with a crowbar until that passenger
coach.rolled into Last Chance.

The brakes were kicked loose by the trainmen and the
train shthered away into the night. Once more the
baron began slipping and sliding around on the car roof.
He made so much noise that he wondered why those in
the car did not -hear him. Very likely he made less
noise than he thought, and ‘what little he made was
drowned in the slush of driving rain and the crash of
thunder.

Ordinarily it required close upon *two hours for a
train to cover the distance between Tickaboo and Last
Chance. The baron, when still far from his journey’s
end, felt as though he had traveled a thousand miles and
been on the car roof for two or three days.

His arms were numb clear to his shoulders, and his
‘body was bruiged and sore from the banging around it
was receiving. Just as he was beginning to think that
he must give out, in spite of himself, and tumble into the
right of way, something happened in the car—something
sO tragic that it caused the baron to forget his own un-
comfortable situation.

One of the rough- looking men who had been playing
cards strolled back along the aisle of the car and dropped
into a seat behind the middle-aged man. The baron

was so situated that he could view that particular part”

of the car where the middle-aged man was sitting, al-
though every other part of the car’s interior was out
of his range of vision.

The rufhan had changed his place. This was all right
enough, and hardly deserving.ef comment. The man in
front of him had a newspaper and did not so much as
raise his eyes from what he was reading.

The ruffian’s next move, however, wap surprising to
the baron—and it must have been intensely surprising
to the man with the paper.

Reaching forward suddenly, with his arms over the
back of the seat in front, the rufhan caught the middle-

aged man by the throat and shoulders, at the same time

clapping a big, rough hand over his mouth.

The victim of the attack began to struggle. At that,
the other three men fell upon him. In almost less time
than it takes to tell it, the vicim was bound’ hand and
foot and a twisted handkerchief was thrust between his
jaws.

The baron’s idignation was great. Where were the
conductor and brakemen? What did the train crew
mean by allowing a passenger to be dealt with in. that
summary manner?

There were only five passengers in the last coach, and

if the trainmen were all forward, there was no one’

around to interfere with the game the four scoundrels
were working.

The baron would have interfered—-if he had been able

coe

PN ABP AMM OT OO fee Seer GM Rm AME eee isn can aaron he oy a RTC ty NL rare

Aber I bed you I get to Last Shance oof it

aon Se Seo a come aoa

 
 

as | \)) JHE BUFFALO

todo so. Hanging to the roof of the car with both hands
as he was, had he had a revolver, he would have reached
into the car and done what he could to assist the victim
of the attack.

But the baron was helpless. It was fortunate for
him, perhaps, that the arm he had put through the ven-
tilator opening did not lead to his own-discovery.

As soon as the middle-aged man had been securely
bound and gagged, two of the four ruffians went for-
ward and another went to the rear.

Presently the baron saw the bell rope wriggling
through the car, evidently being drawn by the men on
the front platform. ’

The storm, at that moment, was even more vicious
_ than it had yet been. A torrent of gusty rain enveloped
the coaches, and the lightning flashed almost incessantly.
The train was on the down grade. Casting his eyes to-
ward the track side, the baron saw a mass of boulders,
backed by high peaks.

The bottom of the grade was reached. There followed
a short, level stretch of track alongside of which stood
a switch target. After the level stretch came a climb,
When the train took the up grade, the baron, to his over-
whelming astonishment, saw the locomotive and. the two
forward cars pull away from the rear coach, At the
same instant, the lights in the rear coach were extin-
guished and the car began slowing to a standstill.

What did this mean? :

The baron racked his brain for a solution of the’
mystery. ey

Up the mountain he could see the glare from the open
door of the engine’’ firebox shining back over the wet
tops of the two trailing cars. Higher and highefit went
till the light from the cab and the receding coaches van-
ished in a swirl of watery. darkness.

“Dere goes my shance for gedding vere I vant to
be,” muttered the astounded baron. “I vas left oudt
here mit der last car under der four sgoundrels und dot
odder feller. Vat iss it all aboudt, anyhow? How dit
der lasdt car preak avay from der resdt oof der drain?
Und vy don’d der resdt oof der drain come pack for
us? Himmelblitzen, vat a'keveer pitzness !”

The train had lost the rear car; there was no doubt
about that. It was not extraordinary that the trainmen
were not aware of it. They, very likely, were safely
housed from the storm in the forward coaches.

It had not been difficult for the two ruffians, while
the train was on the down grade, to pull the pin that
- connected the rear car with the car in front. The bell
rope, withdrawn and secured at the rear of the second
car, gave no.clue to what had happened to the car be-
hind. The old-fashioned equipment was a help to the’
four scoundrels in the playing of their bold and myste-
rious game.

_The startled baron, withdrawing his observation from
the track side, once more peered into the car.

He saw the middle-aged man, upright in his seat, but
still bound and gagged. One of the ruffans was with
him as a guard.

He heard voices outside the car and a rattle of iron on
the rails. From behind came a clatter at the switch.
A flash of lightning, blazing out at that moment, showed
a man laboring to throw the switch.

Suddenly the car began to move slowly back toward
the switch, goaded by pinch bars prying at the wheels,

The baron gulped down his amazement. No lamps

. one of the men with the pinch bars,

_sound as of a man leaping aboard.

tum had been almost lost. There was a slight jar as it

 
  

BILL STORIES.

 

had been relighted in the car, but the lightning glare en- e
abled him to see the prisoner and his guard, The guard f
was silent, but determined, while the prisoner was glar- e
ing fruitlessly into the man’s eyes. .

“All ready, Sim?’ yelled one of the men with the
pinch bars.

“All ready, Abe!” roared back the man at the switch:
tet! cer come Y:

The car was forced over the switch and onto the
side track. The baron ran some risk of discovery, but
not much. The scoundrels were too busily occupied
in their work to give much attention to the top of the
car, and the baron flattened himself out and watched and
waited for what was to come.

Now and again, as the lightning served, he could get
a limited view of the side track. |

 

 

It looked more like a
spur than a mere siding, and curved into a. straight
track that lost,itself through a cut among the boulders,

Presently the car began to move of its own momen-
tum, proving that the spur was on a down grade.

“Throw that thar switch an’ git aboard, Sim!” roared
“She's takin’ th
down grade, an’ ye mout as well ride as walk.’

Heavy feet could be heard stamping on the car steps
and’ platform.

“Til be thar!” bellowed Sim.

Again the switch rattled, and then there was another

  

  

The car, meanwhile, was gathering headway and glid.
ing into the rocky cut with rapidly increasing speed. The
furious wind was behind and helped the car along its ia:
course.

Where was the car going? Why had the prosperous-
looking passenger been made a prisoner? And why had :
the car been stolen from the train?

“Here vas some mysderies,’ muttered the dripping b
baron, “und I bed you I haf oxcidement enough pefore
I findt oudt vat it iss all aboudt. Ach, du lieber, vat a ,
time!” F

CHAPTER II. ]
1) BiG 2) DM NG ‘
grace

How far that stolen coach rolled on the down g
of the spur the baron had no means of judging. I[t must
have been two or three miles, at least. Its cotirse was a.
through as rough a bit of country as the baron had eve! ES
seen. His observation of the country, of course, was
somewhat restricted by the night and the tempest, but
the lightning gave him-a tolerable idea of the lay of the
land, »

Furthermore, the spur track was one that was not
much in use. This was evident from the fact that it
was almost overgrown with small bushes. Occasionally

the branches of a tree, reaching out over the top of the . <

car came within one of knocking the baron from the
roof. :

When the car finally came to a standstill its momen-

ee

  
 
  

struck a bumper post at the track end.

Beside the car was a ruinous old platform. -The baron
could have descended now, and hidden -himself away
gamong the Bushes and boulders, but he had a good place
for observation and was consumed with a desire to learn
more about that night’s queer business,

We

  
  
  
  
  

 
 
  
   

 

  
  

  
   
  

 

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The three men reéntered the car fred the ae
and slouched down the aisle,

“Light up, Sim,” said. one. “‘Thar ain’t no one ter
see us hyer. I don’t reckon thar’s been any one out on
this old ore spur sence the vein in the ole Tamarack
Mine petered out. Git the lamps ter goin, pard.”

Sim began scratching matches and lighting the lamps.
In order to reach the lamps he had to climb on the seats.
The baron drew back from the ventilator opénings and

~ waited until the lamps nearest him were lighted.

As soon as the coach was aglow from end to end, the
man referred to as Abe pulled the knotted hgpdkerchiet
from the mouth of the prisoner.

“What is the meaning of this outrage?’ the middie
aged man shouted. “Why am I being treated like this ?”’

“Ve'll know afote ye’re many hours older, Mr. Whit-
man,’ said Abe,

‘AV Ro are your”

“T’m the King Pin.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m up ter snuff every minute of every day
ye kin find in the almanac.” «6

“What does it mean in my case?”

“Bymby ye'll know.”

. “T want to know now!’

Whitman was wroth to a degree that sent the hot blood
into his face, made his voice a shout, and caused him to
struggle with his ropes. Abe, Sim, and the other two
men laughed at him jeeringly.

“What ye want,” growled Abe, the King Pin, “an’
what ye git at the hands 0’ this crowd aire two diff’ rent
things, Mr. W hitman. Jast as soon as the rain slacks up.
a little we're goin’ ter remove ye from the keer.”

“Where am I to be taken?”

“To a nice ole mine’that’s handy by.. This hyer spur
was tun ter the ole mine ter kerry out the ore froin it,
but the vein pinched out an’ the mine’s been abandoned.
Nobody ever comes to it now ‘cept the King Pin an’
his crowd.”

In the faces of the four villains Whitman read a des-
perate and lawless enterprise of some sort.

“Somebody'll smart for this!” he declared. ‘The
cards are all in your hands now, but luck will come my

way before we're done,”

‘Don’t fool yerself,” answered Abe confidently.

“How long do you think it will be before the train
crew discovers this car was cut off from the Hear OL
the train?”

Tl reckon they’ve diskivered it now.”

“They ll come back for the car,’

“Nary, they won't. They'll report back ter Tickaboo
from Last Chance that the keer was lost off, an’ Tick-
aboo'll send out an. engine ter look us up.”

“That engine will find the car!’

“Shore it will, but not much afore mornin’, Thar ain’t
no trafhe up an’ down the line afore ter-morrer, so a lost
keer won't be in nobody’s way. All the railroad men will

“think we kin take keer of ourselves in the keer: till

asian

mornin’.
When that engine comes I’ll make things hot for you
men?” declared Whitman.

“Not so ye kin notice,” returned Abe coolly.

“The engine crew will know there should be five pas-
sengers in the coach, and when the five passengers are

-not found they'll begin investigating,”

“The five passengers ll be found, Whitman. t got a

ae BUF : ALO

 

‘ back.

   

BILL, STORIES. | ae 5

head fer plannin’ an’ ye don’t think I’d overléok sich an
important p’int as that, do ye?”

“How’ll they find me in'the car if you’re going to take
me into this old mine?”

Abe winked at his three companions and they all
laughed softly.

“Tl take keer 0’ that,” said Abe. d

“Are you going to bring me back here from the mine?”

“Yell find out all about this afore long.”

Sim thrust eo out through an open window.

“Rain’s quit,“Abé,” he announced, pulling his head
“It'll begin ag’in, I reckon, but she’s quit fer now.’

“Bully! said Abe. we'll git fer the mine. Take the
rope off’n Whitman’s feet, Hamp,” she added, to one of
the men.

“I refuse to stir from this car!’ cried Whitman.

“Ye do, eh?’ snapped Abe, jerking a revolver from
his belt and nudging the prisoner in the ribs with the
muzzle. “Now, look ye! When I says move, ye ll move.
lf ye don’t move, TIl bore ye, an’ arter that yell be
toted feet fust, I don’t want ter spile yer clothes, either
with rain er bullet holes, but this hyer’s a time when ye
kain’t say ‘No’ ter me.’

“Rope’s an Abe,’ announced Hamp, rising with the
ankle rope in his hands.

“Move!” hissed Abe, to ren,

“TL. protest.
“Move!”
There was a murderous ring in the scotindrel’s voice.

Whitman, undoubtedly a brave man, had yet a fair
amount of discretion. The futility of resistance was
plain and he got up and stepped into the aisle.

“Lead the way, Sim,’ ordered Abe, the King. Pin.
“Foller Sim, Hamp. ll trail erlong arter Whitman
with my stinger out, an’ Ez’ll bring up the rear,”

“Want the lights put out?” asked Sim.

Naw,’ was the answer. “We'll be back hyer afore
long, an’ we'll keep the lamps lit so’s the keer’ll be found
if the railroad people come huntin’ while it’s dark.”

“Bring my satchel,” said the prisoner.

“We'll take it,” returned Abe; “not fer yore conven-
ience, but fer ours.”

“Tf this is a holdup

 

 

“It’s a bigger game than you got any notion of. Pm
er, boss: at plannin’, it de do say ae myself, as
shouldn’t; an’ them as trains with me aire goin’ ter

make thentselves independent well off.”

“They're going to get themselves into a suit of stripes,”
retorted Whitman; “‘and you, as the leader, will get more
than a suit of stripes—you'll get your six feet of rope.”

“Ye’re wrong, but | ain’t a-goin’ ter argy with ye.”

The procession moved along the aisle of the car and
out at the forward door. The baron, excited over the
curious proceeding and highly delighted with his night’s
adventure, waited. until the four men had got off the
car. Then he slopped carefully on hands and knees to
the end of the roof wiltre it hooded the platform, let
himself down to the brake wheel, and thence to the
ground.

His body was bruised and sore, and his limbs were
stiff with the cold from his wet garments, But he paid
no attention to physical discomforts. What were, Abe,
the King Pin, and his men going to do to Whitman? This
was the point which the baron had determined upon
finding out.

  

 

 
“THE BUFFALO

On leaving the car the four men had taken their pris”

oner to the westward.

‘Passing the end of the ruinous plank platform, the
baron softly parted the wet bushes and trailed along
after the scoundrels and their victim. :

There was a lull in the storm. The wind still blew

gustily and the clouds told of more rain to come. There.

was no light of moon or star to show the baron his way.
_ The voices of the men he was following guided him,
and he stumbled and barked his shgns again and again
-as he moved onward through the Sgygi@n darkness.
Finally the baron arrived at the concffision that he
was in an old road, overgrown with small brush from
long disuse. The road mounted upward. Ahead, per-

haps two hundred yards, a hillside btilked ominously, a\
-~ shade blacker than the night.

‘toward the face of the slope. —

The slope proved to be steep and rocky. When the
King Pin and his men reached it and halted, the baron
was quite close to them.

“Dudley!” roared the voice of Abe, the leader.

There was an answer, echoing hollowly from some
place in the bowels ofthe hill.

Presently a light showed against the dark and a man
with a lantern stepped through the entrance to a tunnel.

“Is that you, Aber’ the man asked.

“Sure thing, Dudley,’ answered Abe.

“Did you make out?” i | y

“We made out with ground ter spare. Hyer’s Whit-
man, an’ we got Whitman’s satchel. -We cut the last
_ keer off’n the train on the down grade close ter. the spur

switch, then pried it across the switch an’ onter the spur.
_ Thar she is, down thar now.”

“Whoop!” exulted Dudley.

“I reckon we're the people,” gloried Sims.

“It’s a tough night,” remarked Dudley. —

“Just the night fer a game o’ this kind,” answered
Abe. “But go on in, Dudley. Jingles an’ Pete with ye 2”

“You know it,” said Dudley. Trail along, pards. We
were waiting for you.” x

Dudley stepped back into the tunnel followed by the
other men with the prisoner, Whitman protesting loudly
as he was shoved and pulled along.

Em,

eer RE

CHAPTER IV. >
STARTLING DEVELOPMENTS.

The baron’s interest in this peculiar affair was reach-
ing an absorbing point. Abe and his men had not the
slightest idea that any outsider was spying upon them.
This was an advantage to the baron. Like his pards,

Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill, the baron was always ready .

to right a wrong—and he was more than ready whenever
the righting of a wrong promisgd excitement.

In order to get at the gist Bf these strange designs
against Whitman, it was necessary for the baron to run
. some risks of discovery. He had already taken a few
chances in that direction, but they were as nothing com-
pared with the risk that confronted him now.

_ He must follow Whitman and the King Pin and his
men into the old mine, sizing up the situation in the un-
_derground workings.to the best of his ability. As near
as he could determine, there were seven in the gang—

The men were mounting |

blanket laid over the rocky floor, he was

BILL: STORIES, *

Abe, the leader, who referred to himself as the “King

Pin,” Sim, Hamp, Ez, Dudley, Jingles, and Pete.

These seven, in case the baron was discovered, would
be ranged against him; and the baron had no guns to
fight with. So, he reasoned, he must-avoid discovery,
If ke were found out, there would be no possibility of
doing a good stroke for Whitman. And to help Whit-
man was the object of the baron’s efforts.

Moving forward swiftly, the baron groped his way
inte the tunnel. The lantern was too far away to be of
any aid to him, and he stealthily proceeded along the
bore, running one hand along the wall as he moved on-
ward, & |

The tunnel, so far as the baron could judge, was like
every other mine tunnel with which he was familiar.
Gouged in solid rock, there had been no need of shoring

- timbers.

_ The passage angled, presumably following the vein
which had “pinched out” in the heydey. of the old mine's
prosperity. As the baron rounded one of the angles,
well back from the tunnel’s mouth, a glow of light struck

suddenly against his eygs.

The glow came from around another. angle, twenty-
five or thirty feet onward. A mumble of voices also

_came to the baron’s ears.

“I vas gedding close, I bed you!” murmured the baron.
“Now, I vill put some more gum shoes on my feet, py
shinks, und findt oudt vat iss vat aboudt Vitman.’’

Sinking to hands and knees and hugging one of the
tunnel walls, he wriggled onward. At the corner, from
around which drifted the light and the voices, he stole
a cautious look at what lay beyond.

A large body of ore must have been encountered, at
that particular point, by the diggers of the tunnel. A
huge chamber had been excavated, hemispherical in
shape, with a didmeter of about fifty feet, and a height
in the centre of perhaps twenty feet.

This chamber was plainly the rendezvous of the King
Pin gang. There were cots against the rocky wall, and
from a post planted in the middle of the cavernous
room hung the lantern Dudley had carried to the tunnel
entrance. ‘Two more lighted lanterns hung opposite
each other on the curved wall. One lantern was over a

place where half a dozen horses were secured. Near
the horses were several bales, of hay. Riding gear lay

in a clutter near the hay bales: }
On the other side of the rendezvous jerked beef hung
pendant from the curyed-roof, and there was a table,

‘a collection of tin dishes, and boxes and bags that must

have contained provender. :

The equipment seemed very complete, and the place
was just the kind that would be selected by a gang of
lawless men for a safe hiding place.

Around the post in the centre of the retreat sat Abe
and his followers, and their prisoner. f

Whitman’s clothes had been stripped from him, down
even to his stockings and shoes, and a pair gf coarse
trousers and a dirty flannel shirt had been given him in
their stead. He was wearing the makeshift clothes, and
his bare feet were bound at the ankles. /Sitting on®a
leaning against
the post and glaring at his captors in horror and anger.

Off to one side, a man of the prisoner's height and
build, who resembled him otherwise in a general way,

ep on the garments the prisoner had been forced
to give i 2

up.

%

 
Salas NS Nir L eee Senshi aD inane hea

ee

SA MOE SR RNS Ee aA OR MORE Si, CUO SS

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

“How do they fit ye, Dudley?” inquired Abe, with a
chuckle.

“’Fhey fit,’ answered” Dudley,
been made for me.”

All the ruffans began to laugh.

“T don’t reckon ye’re what ye might call a dead ringer
_ fer Whitman, Dudley,” went on Abe, “but ye’ll do. That
pocketbook with papers’ll identify ye as Whitman, an’
ye kin meet the Ormon men in: Last Chance, git their
certified check fer twenty- -five thousand dollars an’ turn
over the deed thet ye’ve also found @ the pocketbook.
~ Then: yell h@y ter indorse the check in order ter git
the money at the bank. Ye kin copy Whitman’s signa-
ture on the deed till ye’ve got it plumb ter rights. HEkal
ter that, aire ye?”

“Tm equal to anything, Abe,” laughed Dudley, lacing
Whitman’s shoes on his feet. ‘‘This is the slickest game
this gang ever pulléd off. It’s so easy, pards, it seems a
shame to take the money,”

“Don't you trip up on nothin’, that’s all,” warned Abe.
“When a feller gits holt o’ a sure thing, same as we
reckon we've got, he’ 8 apt ter git keerless. Mind what
I tell. ye, Dudley, an’ don’t git keerless.”’
> Sure, L won't.”

“Tve picked ye’ter git the money,” w ent on Abe » be
kase ye’re like Whitman, in a hull lot 0’ ways; at’ ye
know how ter talk like er schoolmaster. But don’t ve
take too much fer granted. The town o’ Last Chance
don’t like the King Pin crowd,/a litle bit, an’ I reckon
thar’s fellers in Last Chance as knows Ace- High Dudley.
If one of them was ter spot ye as Dudley, white. ye ase
masqteradin’ as Whitman, the fat ’u’d be in the fire.”

“They won't spot me, Abe,” declared Dudley. “I’ve
shaved off my whiskers, and there’s a big change in me.
Then, too, these clothes of Whitman’ s, and his jewelry;
which T’ve got on my fingers and in my pockets,. and
the fact that I'll ride in on the lost car, will be in the
nature of corroborative details—see? No one in Last
_ Chance will discover that [m not Whitman—not even
the paying teller at the bank.” ;

“Sim, Hamp, Ez, an’ me’ll be along,” pursued Abe.
“Well alf be in Last Chance. while ye’re makin’ yore
play.”

“You're the ones to be careful,” said Dudley.
given away it will be because some of you do it.”

“Ve kin bank on us, Dudley. Yevsee, us four hev got
ter be in that keer thet was lost off'n thé train. We
bought tickets ter Last Chance, back thar in Tickaboo,
an’ we was all on the keer with ye.. We're ter make it
look as though the keer was lost off when the train
commenced climbin’ the grade south o’ the ore spur.
Savvy?”

“We fixed the bell rope same’ s a it had broke an’ the
_end got tangled in the railin’ o’ the next keer for’ard.
The railroad folks’ll come back huntin’ fer that keer.
When they find it, théy’ll think it jumped the switch an’
took the spur, see? An’ when the keer’s diskivered, we
all got ter be in it—the same five passengers, ter all ap-
pearances, as got inter the keer at Tickaboo, (: Hazmip,
Ez, Sim, an’ me’ll be playin’ keerds.

“As Whitman, Dudley, ye ain’t our sort, so ye ll be
flockin’ by yerself in the back part’o’ the keer. We'll all
be mighty glad when we're found, an’ ye'll complain that
we wasn't nice ter ye, but joshed ye consider’ble.”

“as though they had

39

Ee a

“Trust me to play my part,” returned Dudley.

He was fully dressed in Whitman’s clothes and looked,
to the full, the part of a prosperous, middle-aged man
from some metropolis, either Eastern or Western. The
baron was astounded at the change in Dudley, and more
than astounded at the dodge Dudley was expected to pay
in Last Chance.

The baron’s wit was slow, and he had not yet got it
clearly into his head how Dudley was to proceed. .But
the baron knew that the sum of $25,000 was to be stolen
by the King Pin crowd, with Dudley as the tool for the.
operation. :

The victim of allNhis chicanery had been sitting si-
lently by the post, listening to all that had been said.
His horror and anger increased, and it was with diff-
culty that he kept a check on himself. Now, as Dudley —
began picking up the personal property taken from his
clothes—watch and chain, pocketbook, key ring, and vari-
ous other articles—-Whitman burst out:

“You infernal scoundrels!” he shouted. “I'll get even,
with you for this if it takes every dollar I’ve got in the
world !”

“Don’t ye throw any.o’ that sort o’ ling6 at us, Whit-
man,’ growled Abe, ‘‘or’mebby. we'll do somethin’ wuss
ter ye than jest keepin’ ye a pris’ner till we git the Or-
mond.money an’ make a change o’ base ter other parts.”

“Do your worst, you contemptible hound!’ cried Whit-
man, “I don't care where you go, after you pet the
money. J’ll have you trailed and run down and pun-
ished. In order to keep me from doing that, you scoun-
drels, you'll have to kill me. Go ahead) Shoot me!
That will make a swinging job:of this for you. It will
be a benefit to the BAe ?

“Cork,” yelled Abe, “or Ill plug yer talker Ww ith a gag!
We're in this deal ter make a Wwinnin’, an’ we don’t want
ter wipe ye out—but go a step too fur an’ ye'll taste the
mettle o’ this King Pin crowd.”

All the gang, with the exception of Dudley, were glar-
ing at the prisoner and fingering their weapons sug-
gestively. f

“TI move we sponge him from ther slate!” said Sim.

“Second the motion!” added Hamp.

Dudley spoke up, just as the suggestion seemed about
to’ receive the general. approval.

“Don’t make fools of. yourselves, men!” said he. “Paw-
nee Bill is in Last Chance, and if we go too deep in this
business, Pawnee Bill might try to meddle. We don't
want him mixed in this deal, for he'd probably ring in
Buffalo Bill and his whole outfit. You know what that
would mean,

“Follow out your original plan, Abe; leave the pris-
oner here with Pete and Jingles. The rest of us will
go to the car and ride into Last Chance when the car is

‘found., Pete and Jingles, it is understood, will take good

care of Whitman. After we get.dhe money, and have
a safe getaway in sight, we can let Whitman go. He
won't be able to do anything. His talk’s cheap. Don't
let it get on your nerves. Bring the satchel, somebody,
and the five of us will get back to the car.”

There followed a general movement preceding the de-
parture of the scheming villains, and the baron suddenly
remembered that he was directly in their road if they
moved down the tunnel. He proceded at once to. make
himself safe.

 
 

* 2°

CHAPTER. V.
THE LOST CARLIS FOUND.” |

The baron got away from the angle of the tunnel as
_ rapidly and quietly as he could. On following the tun-
nel the first time he had run his hand along the foot wall
of the bore; now, on returning toward the entrance, he
allowed his fingers to keep in contact with the hanging
wall.
As he hurried, he threw glances behind him, from
time to time,‘ order to see the glow of lantern light

and keep track of the distance that separated him from

~

Abe and his men. ae
To his surprise he saw nothing of the light and heard
nothing of the men; and to his greater surprise he did
not come to the mouth of the tunnel.
It was taking him ten times as long to” cover the dis-

tance between the opening of the bore and the chamber

as it had the other time, and he figured that now he was
going about ‘ten times as fast.
@. What was the matter? 2
The baron came to a breathless halt, leaned against
_ the wall and tried to compose his brain for reflection.

Abe and the four men with him who were returning

to the car must long since have left the mine. Why had
~ they not passed the barop? : oe

- - ‘There could be only one explanation, and the baron ar-

rived at it after some fifteen minutes of painful effort.

He had wandered away from the main tunnel into one
that opened off the hanging wall. —_

One tunnel does not make a mine. “It takes several
tunnels and many cross-cuts, winzes and shafts to make
a real mine.

Cold chills ran up the baron’s back as he thought of
the danger he had been in from a wide opening in the
floor of the level along which he had been hurrying.
Only luck had kept him‘out of such a pitfall.

He remembered that he. had followed the footwall in
going through the main tunnel the first time. That wall

_ had had no openings, and had led him straight to the
big chamber where the gang had their rendezvous. In
returning he had followed the hanging wall, and it had
carried him into another level.

Had he had a light, he could have guarded against

_such a mishap, but, in the darkness, he had trusted to the
wall as a guide, and there had been no way of keeping
clear of the branch tunnel. i
 §$o, all the while the baron had thought he was hasten-
ing toward the mouth of the tunnel, he had been going
farther and farther into the mine. The main tunnel was
probably clear of enemies by then, and the quicker he got

 

server

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

- back to it, the better. The baron started at once on his

return.

Now those who know the baron best will understand
his propensity for blundering. His luck was such that
most of his blunders were in the right direction; but at
_ this time, in returning; as he thought, to the ie tunnel,
he made the same mistake that he made in leaving the
angle by the underground chamber. Instead of follow-
ing the hanging wall, he crossed the lateral bore and
followed. the foot wall.

An hour later he discovered that he had not reached
the main tunnel, and reasoned that he had been due to
_arrive there at, least fifteen minutes after taking the back
track. oo

_ Again, what was the matter?

' pitzness oop to Puffalo Pill,

Foe

He sat down to puzzle it out, finally arriving at the
true stateyof affairs. He had followed the wrong wall.

Manifestly, the way to get out was to follow the foot-
wall back to the hanging wall, and the hanging wall back
to the foot wall of the main tunnel.

Highly pleased with the result of his reasoning, the
baron leaped up to put his plan into execution. Then
another cold: chill galloped through his spine.

He had changed his position, there in the dark, and
couldn’t tell one wall from’ the other! —

“T peen der ygrst fool vat efer valked!” ground out
the baron savagéfy. ‘‘I don’d know nodding, py shinks'!
Here I vas, losdt in der olt mine, und I don’d know any
vich vay to go. Vell, I got to go somevere, und meppeso
oof I lighdt a match dot vill helup.” Mea

Being an inveterate smoker, the baron always carried
matches. He“took one out of his pocket and tried to

elight it, but it had been soaked with, water and wouldn’t
light. All the matches were in that condition.

“Vell,” murmured the baron philosophically, “oof I
can't haf a match light, den I go mitoudt vone. [I vill
shut my eyes und durn aroundt haluf a,tozen times, und
den I yill shdrike oudt und hope for goot luck.”

There was no need of shutting his eyes; nevertheless
he did so, turning around several times, found the near-
est wall and followed it. He went carefully in order
to avoid any gap in the floor under his feet. .

Nothing got in his way. He walked and walked, his
wet shoes hardening on his feet as the leather dried, and
making walking anything but easy.

“I,don’d know vere I. vas no more as a fool,” he
grunted, pausing for a rest. ‘“Meppe I vas miles und
miles avay from dot dunnel vere I come into derfmine.
I am losdt in der blace, und I visht I knowed how_pig
Wy vas.”

By that time, he thought as he rested, the train had
been in Last Chance for several hours. What would
Buffalo Bill think when his Dutch pard did not get off
the train?

These reflections were intensely disagreeable to the
baron. When he fimally met the king of.scouts—if, he
ever did—that game of gaigel with Vogel and Bauer-
meister would probably come out. The baron groaned
in the bitterness of his spirit.

The only way he could offset that gambling game was
by doing something particularly brilliant for Whitman.
He had a line on the trouble-makers, and if he could
get get back to the car and resume his old position on the
roof, he cotild ride on to Last Chance with the bogus
Whitman and the four schemers and tefl the ‘scout
what crooked work was going on.

Yes, that was the ticket, by jinks!

By such a move the baron would star himself; and
the delightful fact would remain that, had he not lost
his money in the game at Vogel’s, he would not have been
compelled to ride on the roof of the car: and if he
hadn’t ridden on the car roof, he would never have found
out what the King’Pin and his gang were up to.

“Oof I pull off dot blay,” mused the baron, ‘der sgout
vill be gladt dot I lost der money und hat to shneak a rite
on der railroadt drain. Yahgadot’s vat I vill do. I vill
rit on der car roof to Last Shance und put der whole

: Hoop-a-la!’? 3

Once more he started’ along the -dark bore, hoping

against hope that luck would come his way. He forgot

"is tired and aching feet, forgot the chill that went to

sel

  

my

 

 
 

to himself, he had wandered
‘and along it to the opening into the mine.

 

 

THE BUFFALO

his marrow because of his wet clothes, forgot anything

and everything but the’ hope that he would be able to
star himself and backcap the game Abe and his men.
were playing. .

He wished that he had had supper beter he started
from Tickaboo. It’s hard to exert oneself on an empty
stomach, and the baron was very careful of “his stom-

‘- ach. However, he forgot even his hunger in the bril-

liant prospect that was opening ahead of him.

Fate was kind, too, most unexpectedly kind. Sud-.
denly the baron felt a draught of cool air against his.
face. Peering steadily ahead of him he saw an indis-

tinct circular opening, somewhat lighter than the prevail-

ing background with which he had been surrounded
for so long. Hardly daring to credit his senses, he ran
forward and came through the mouth of the tunnel into
the fresh, wet air of out of doors.

He felt like shouting over hig good fortune. Unknown
ack into the main tunnel

The Sy was still cloudy, but there was no rain. fall-
ing. A sudden loud hiss, and a chug, chug-chug, chug,
chug-chug, drew his startled eyes toward the spur.

The car was there, its windows glowing. brilliantly
with the lighted lamps. But the car was not alone. There
was a locomotive with it, and the locomotive was just

starting along the up grade with the car in tow.

The baron’s heart sank like lead. For a moment he
was tempted to yell with all his might and hustle down
the slope, hoping the men in the engine cab might hear
him and wait until he got aboard.

Swift second thoughts, however, caused him to smother
the yell. Such a clamor might not be heard by the men
on the engine. If they did hear him, and halted to wait
until he arrived, Abe and his men would know about
it,and woufd suspect what he had been up to. That
would have been a bad thing for him, and the worst kind

-_ of a thing for Whitman. he

- Again, if the men on the engine did Anot heat him,

why, those in the mine’ would. The engine would get

away without the baron, and the baron would be left
to the tender mercies of Jingles and Pete. Another ca-

- lamity for Whitman. *

Moving away from the tunnel entrance and a little way

~ down the skope, the baron watched until the engine and

the car got out of sight.

“Vat a luck!” he muttered, dropping in a*heap on the
wet stones and shaking his feet at the place where the
engine and car had disappeared. “Now I don’d vas
aple to shtar meinseluf like vat I t’ought.. Dot Abe feller
say dot der enchine von't be along ondil morning—vich
shows how mooch he knew aboudt it. Vat’s to be tone,
now?” 7

The baron dropped into a quandary.

He could follow the spur back to the main track and
walk to Last Chance. Probably he was not-more than
twenty-five or thirty miles from the town. If he hung
to his trudging persistently, he. would no doubt get into
Last Chance some time the next forenoon.

The very thought made him faint. Before he got to
the town Dudley might have secured the twenty-five
thousand dollars and | escaped | with it.-

There were horses in the robbers’ roost. Would it
be a for him to secure one of them? Stealing a
mount right out from under the noses of Jingles and
ee was a daring proceeding for an unarmed man.

present instance, Buffalo Bill could not guess.

‘ they: trailed. Into Last: Chance:

BILL STORIES. -

Daring proceedings, however, were the Sutews long
suit. His failure to get to the car béfore it left had
made him desperately anxious to do something brilliant.
Getting a horse from the rendezvous appealed to him, and
he got, up and started back to the tunnel.

(CHAPTER VE
PAWNEE BILL’S FRIEND, THE TOWN MARSHAL.
Buffalo Bill’s telegram, received from Pawnee Bill

late in the afternoon of the day the baron rode away
with Vogel, was brief and to the point:

Come ®- a train.
Need help.
“PaWwNEE BILL.” «

‘BuErano Bit) ak.
High jinks turned loose here.

Just what the term “high jinks” could mean, in the
He knew
that Pawnee Bill owned an interest in the Tickaboo,
‘Last Chance and Southern Railroad, and that he had
mining interests in Last Chance; but whether railroad
trouble or mining trouble had developed, or trouble con-
nected with neither the railroad nor the mines, the scout
did not know.

The telegram, through some delay in transmission, ar-
rived too late for the pards to take the evening train from
Tickaboo. Forty miles, however, was not much of a
ride for the knights of the saddle, so the scout had the
horses made ready, wrote the letter to the baron, and
the pards left Tickaboo with the mule, Toofer, in tow.

The pards were not long in discovering that the forty
miles separating Tickaboo from Last Chance were mostly
up and down, and they led through as rough a piece of
country as the scout had ever tr iegl to navigate.

Unlike the night to follow, when the baron tcok his
tide on the car roof, there was calm air, a bright moon
and a placid sky.

It was eight o’clock when the pards trailed out. of
Tickaboo, and it was about two in the morning when
In other words, these
trained horsemen, well mounted, consumed six hours in
covering forty miles! That fact alone speaks volumes
for the difficulties of-the journey.

Pawnee Bill was not in the hotel, and the sleepy man
in the office had agnotion that he was out somewhere
in the country, but he didn’t know where.

There was nothing to be done at that hour, and the
tired pards looked: after their mounts and then hunted
their bunks..

Pawnee Bill, just back from his night ride, joined
them at breakfast.

“Deserted Jericho !” he Bechiimed: “Why, Pard ‘Bill,
I didn’t mean for you to hit your saddles in case you
missed that train. You'd have been in plenty of time
if you'd taken the train this evening.”

=] thought the matter was pressing, Pawnee,’ .an- -

39

swered the scout, “so we saddled up, and .
“Anamit ther high places,” put in old Nomad. “Thet
thar strip o’ road is sartinly full o’ high places, Pawnee.”
“Isn’t the mattér important?’ queried the scout.
“Important, yes; but, owing to the fact that certain
persons are not in town at the present time, it’s Ss not so
important, I reckon, as it will be later.”

 

   

     
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
  
  
   
 
   
  
  
 
   
  
  
   
  
  
 
 
 
    
 
  
   
  
  
   
   
 
  
  
 
  
  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
  
  
   
 
   
    
  
        
    
     
   
    
10 A THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

“What's apr’. |

The prince of the bowie cast a significant glance at
several others who were eating at their table,

“Dell you later, mecarnis,” said he, 3

After breakfast the pards got together in ,Pawnee’s
room, and he proceeded to set the matter in hand clearly

before them.

_ “T’ve got an interest in a likely mining prospect, here”

at Last Chance, amigos. It’s a half interest, and a man
named Ormond owns the other half. The vein cuts
through into a property on the south that’s owned by a
man named Whitman, who lives in Denver. Whitman
has offered to sell his claim to Ormond and me for
_ twenty-five thousand, and he’s to come up to-night on
the train from. Tickaboo, hand over the deed, and get
ce money. Qrmond has azcertified check ready for
im.

..“This mine of ours is the North Star. We've been
shipping ore from it for some time—sending it to the
stamp mill in Tickaboo. Some of the miners working
for Ormond have been ‘high grading, that is, stealing
some of the richest ore and having it milled>in a little
ramshackle ten-stamper up Last Chance Creek.”

“Ormond had his suspicions who the men were, but
he couldn't prove a case against them. He discharged
the suspects and the high grading stopped, right off.”

“Pretty good proof you discharged the right ones,
Pawnee,” said the scout.

“Sure, but not good enough proof to hatl the fellows
up and put them through. A friend of mine—one of
the old original Oklahoma boomers—happens to be town
marshal of Last Chance. Ormond set him to watching
the suspects, hoping he could get a line on them. Per-
cival—that’s the marshal—was found with a.bullet in
him yesterday afternoon.”

“Done for ?” y
"He has a fighting, chance, the camp sawbones tells
us.” \ .
“Did the suspects shoot him?”
“That's what we don’t know. Percival hasn’t been
able to say a rational word sincé he was shot, and the
doctor can’t make any promises as to when he'll get a
lucid interval.
who used to be capper for a Last Chance tin horn, was

seen lurking around the place where Percival was found,

later. Pete’s vamosed, and nobody knows where he’s

ve SORE:

Pawnee Bill was silent for a spac ;
“There’s not enough in. just that, necariis,” he went on
_ presently, “to warrant that telegram I sent you. There

., have been a good many lawless acts committed in this

section lately. Miners up the creek have been robbed,
travelers by trail have been held up; and an attempt was
made, two weeks ago, to. stick up a train that was car-
rying out a consignment of bullion.

“The robbery failed by a scratch. A burning hand-
kerchief, soaked in bear’s oil, was waved across the
track. The engineer, however, was foxy, and he ran
the signal. The railroad company are afraid the attempt
will be repeated, and with better success. yz

“It’s the general opinion in Last Chance that all this
lawlessness can be laid to one gang, and the members of
that gang are known. Suspicion, how®€ver, never got any
man behind the bars. We've got to have something
more than mere suspicion—we’ve got to get proof.”

“Who are these men that compose the gang, Pawnee?”

‘-outht over the road.

A’ kiyi named Pete Something-or-other |

“Abe Ginderlee, who calls himself the King Pin. be-
cause he thinks he’s so high and mighty, is the boss of

‘the outfit. The man Pete, who was skulking around the

place where the wounded marshal was found, is another,
and there are about five more.

“These men come to town, hang around the ‘free-and-
easies’ and spend money freely, but it is positively known
that they don’t do a thing in the line of honest work.
Their money must come from some source, and it’s
the general opinion that they’re back of all the thieving
that’s going on.’

“Where do the men hang out?”

“That’s another suspicious detail, Pard Bill. No one
has been able to discover where they have their roost.
We have nothing against them, though; that is, nothing
but our suspicions.”

“Give them rope enough, Pawnee, and they'll hang
themselves. with it,’ laugfed the scout.

“We want to get something on them, mecarnis. This
high grading might do, if Percival recovers; and if he
was shot by Pete, of the King Pin crowd, that would
help to land ‘him, and perhaps the rest of the gang. |
doubt, however, whether it’s safe to wait very long.

“Every member of the gang is out of town, just now.
and that seems to point to a big job of some kind that
they're hatching up. What I want, necarnis, is your
advice. I’m interested in the railroad, as you know, and
Vd hate to have the express company, which is con-
trolled by the railroad, drop a shipment of bullion. It
might strain the company to make good. What would

‘you do?”

“Pin your faith on the recovery of Percival,” said
the scout promptly. “If Pete did the shooting, and was
set on by the gang, Percival can help send the King Pin
But have Percival guarded. If
there's a chance of his recovering; and telling’ a few
things against the gang, some of Abe Ginderlee,’s men
may try dgain.and make a complete job of Pete’s failure.”

“Tve thought of that,” returned Pawnee Bill. ‘‘Per-
cival’s home is four miles out of town, and he was taken
there when he was found. Ormond has a couple of
armed miners with him all the time. I spent-the night
out there.” :

“Let things move along as they will, then. Don’t try

to hurry anything. Get a sworn’statement ffom Percival
just as soon as he recovers this wits. You'd better go
out there and stay. Nick and I will keep watch in the
camp, and if the King Pin crowd shows up we'll keep
an eye on them.”
_ “You understand, pards,” went on the prince of the
bowie, “that the whole town is morally sure Abe Ginder-
lee’s gang is back of all the lawlessness. What we want
is to make sure of it—get a double cinch on the situa-
tion and railroad the outfit to the pen before they have
a chance to startle the country with a bonanza haul.”

‘Percival is the key to the situation, Pawnee,” said
the scout.

“Tl go out to Percival’s place, then, just as soon as
I can get the gear back on Chick-Chick.’ He got up.
“Where's the baron?” he asked.

Buffalo Bill explained about the baron.

“Hell be in on the night train. from Tickaboo,” he
added. if : }

“That’s the same train Whitman is coming on,” said
Pawnee Bill. “I wish you’d meet him, tell him Ormond
will be on hand to-morrow, amd steer him to the hotel

 

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THE BUFFALO BILL: STORIES. . Oe ae

ff % ; ; : ‘
If there’s any devlopment in Percival’s case, Pard Bill,
Tl ride in and let you know.”

Pawnee Bill left at once. Buffalo Bill and old Nomad
strolled over town to give the place a sizing, and Little
~ Cayusé. went out to the corral to make sure the baron’s
mule wasn’t causing any trouble.

The day passed quietly.. Last Chance did not really

e wake up until night had fallen, and miners began to

come in from the various camps.
The train was due at nine o'clock. Buffalo Bill and

Nomad, wearing their slickers, pushed through the storm

to the railroad station and waited for the train. It
came at last—a bobtail accommodation, consisting of a
locomotive, a combination baggage and mail car, and
one passengér coach. As soon as. the conductor jumped
| down from the platform ef the last car, he made a rush
- for-the telegraph office.
-=. No passengers alighted from the ene passenger coach.

’“Hyar’s a go!” muttered old Nomad. “Whar ther
blazes de opine ther baron is? An’ thet feller Paw-
nee’s lookin’ fer?’

“There were some passengers in the car we lost,” said
a brakeman, struggling in the wind with a-rubber coat.
‘“Car-you lost?” echoed the scout.

Before the brakeman could answer, a torrent of -water
and'a fierce blast of thunder drove all hands into the
waiting room of the station. — “ .

CHAPTER VIL
NEWS FROM PERCIVAL.

“Tell the super, Jack, that we lost our rear coach
south of the old ore spur while climbing Bridger’s Hill,
and that we didn’t find it out until we were close to
Last Ghance. Five passengers in the car, all booked for
this camp. - They're probably snug enough, somewhere
in the vicinity of the ore spur. If it hadn’t been. for the
storm we shouldn’t have lost the car without knowing
it the moment it broke loose.. This is the worst saght
I’ve been out in for a dozen blue moons.”
- The conductor turned:away from the operator’s win-
dow, shook the water from his cap and picked up his
: lantern.

““Just.a moment, ane said Buffalo Bill.
say there were five passengers on that lost car?”

“Five, yes,” said the conductor, giving the scout a
_ quick sizing. ,

“Was one of them a Dutchman ?”

“None of ’em looked like a Dutchman, or talked like
one. You're Buffalo Bill, ain't VOU Sy,

> “Yes, 93 e

“And this Dutchman you're inquiring about is one 0’

“Vou

-- your pards?”

“Ves? “mm ‘ -

“Thought T’d seen you around the Tickabos hoteh
That’s where I lay over. Now I think about it, the
Dutchman was arqgnd the depot when we ptilled out,
but he didn’t get aboard the train.”

“Was there a man named Whitman in the car?”

“Don’t know him. Abe Ginderlee-was in the car, and
three of his cronies.” \

“Ah! And you’re sure the car broke away while you
- were coming up the grade?”

x

“How else could it have got away?”

The conductor couldn’t see any connection between
Abe Ginderlee and his men and the losing of the rear
coach; nor could/the scout, very clearly.

‘““Vhat’s so,” mused the scout. “The stranger is ma-
rooned in company that’s far from pleasant, I should’
say, if Abe Ginderlee’s reputation counts for anything.”

“You can hear all kinds of stuff about Ginderlee in
this town, but I’ve always found him a pretty decent sort
of fellow.”

“Will an engine be sent out from Tickaboo to look
TOR tie lost: carn’ :

“L suppose so, 1f the. super has an engine he can
spare. This road is rather short of engines,” said the
conductor, with a grin, “‘and other kinds of rolling stock,
too.

“Well,” he finished, “ ‘we'll have to be slopping along.
Got some passengers for further south, but they wouldn’t
get into the same coach with Ginderlee. The stranger
was the only man to do it, and I guess he wouldn't have
done it if he'd heard the wild yarns afloat about the -
King Pin.”

The eonductor pulled he cap hard down on his head,
took a firmer grip of his lantern, and let himself out
into the driving downpour.

“Thunder an’ kerry one, Buffler!” growled the old
trapper, “what d’ye think o’ this, hey?’

“Looks queer, Nick,” answered the scout thoughtfully.

“Wuss’'n thet, pard; wuss’n thet! Ther baron was at
ther deepot but he didn’t jump ther train. What ailed
the ole muttonhead ?”

“Probably he had a good reason for staying behind,
Nomad. eo

Not with Toofer at this end o’ the line,” snickered
the aber “no reason on airth- Besides, he’d break
_ hisself in two ter kerry out an order o’ yourn. Waugh!

Meno cumtux, blamed ef I do.’

“Losing that car off the end of the train was an odd
accident,” ruminated the scout, showing clearly the prin-
cipal trend of his thoughts.

“Choo-choo trains ain’t no good, anyways,’ grunted
Nomad. .“‘I kain’t a-bear ’°em. Hossback fer me.”

“The King Pin and three if his men were in that lost
car, Nomad, with a stranger—and that stranger, I'll gam-
ble a blue stack, was Whitman.”

“Ye don’t reckon the gang hev done anythin’ ter Whit-
man, do ye?” asked the trapper, in sudden consternation. ,
“T don’t know. It seems strange, the whole thing, °
that’s all. I'll be glad to see the car co up and

brought intg Last Chance,”

‘Nothin’ more doin’ fer ter- night, 1 reckon.
swim back ter ther hotel?”

“Might as- well.”

The scout thought a long time over the losing of that

car before he went to sleep. The more he thought about
the affair, the more it took on an ominous look. Whit-
man was coming with a deed-that was worth $25,000 to
Pawnee Bill and Ormond.

ot hope nothing happens to that deed,” murmured the
sgout, “and I’ll be glad when that car gets in and brings —
Whitman.” :

With that, he went off to sleep.

He was wakened by a drumming on his door. Start-
ing up in bed he noticed that daylight was coming in at

his window.
““Who’s there?” he demanded.

Shall we

 
12 3 a "THE BUFFALO

“Pawnee Bill, necarnis,’ came the response.

The next instant the scout was out of bed and had
opened the door. )

“What about Percival?’ he asked, as the prince of
the bowie walked into the room.

“On-she-ma-da!” muttered Pawnee Bill. ‘One hope
is dashed while another grows brighter, compadre. Per-
cival has recovered his senses. and the sawbones thinks
now that he'll pull through. He’s my friend, and was a
good stand-by that time our bunch of boomers was
camped at the mouth of Turkey Creek. The fact that
he’ll probably live is the bright side of the picture. The
dark side is this: He don’t know who it was shot him,
for the bullet was fired from a shed. And he hasn't
any line on the high graders. We're up against it, ne-
- carnis.”

“The very fact that he was shot, Pawnee, proves some-
thing.” ‘;

The scout, as he talked, was hurrying into his clothes.

“It proves that some one wanted to put him out of the
way, fast enough, but it isn’t a cinch on the King Pin
_» gang. We can’t go for them because of any ore they lift-
ed, or because of anything they did to Percival. Tough
‘duck, eh?’

The scout went over to his washbasin and ducked his
face in the cool water.

“Rather. tough, and that’s a fact,” he agreed, after
he had thrown aside the towel. “Did you hear what
happened to the last car of that train from Tickaboo ?”

“They were telling me in the office,” answered Pawnee
Bill. :
“There were five passengers in that lost car. Abe

Ginderlee, three of his men, and a stranger. There were

other passengers on the train, but when they learned that
Ginderlee was in the rear car they went into the other
coach.”

“An-pe-tu-we! I’m blessed if I blame them,”

“What sort of a.man is Whitman?”

“Pass the ante. I never saw him.”

“Does Ormond know him?”

“Not from Adam.
letter,’

“Some one in town here must know Whitman. If he’s
got a mining claim in this vicinity, Pawnee, he must have
come here to locate it.”

“Not exactly, Pard Bill, Whitman bought out the
original locater on the report of an expert. He’s never
seen the claim.”

“Oueer 1”

“Why all this palaver?”

“Well, 'm thinking that the stranger who was in-the
tear coach with Ginderlee and his three men must have
been Wittman.” | i

“Easy money.”

“It Whitman had heard the reports about the King
Pin gang he might have gone into the forward car him-
selis” 2

“He might, yes. Being a stranger in these parts,
though, it stands to reason that he never heard anythin
one way or the other about Ginderlee.” Lie

“Whitman was bringing a deed for which you and Or-
mond were to pay him twenty-five thousand dollars,”
| Exactly.’ o

“Suppose Ginderlee, by some trick, should get hold

of that deed ?’’
®

     

@

‘platform.

Ormond arranged the deal by

Bill STORIES.

“Tt wouldn’t do him any good, necarnis. The deed js
made ont to-Ormond and Lillie” - . =

“Ginderlee could catise a lot of trouble.”

“T don’t think he’d bother with the deed. That’s not
the brand of trouble he tries to make. His brand has
the cold cash closer in hand than that. D’ve about made
up my mind to something, necarnis.”

What's: that?’

“Why, the first time any of the King Pin ctowd show
up in Last Chance I’m going to give them a warning to
leave town and stay away.”

The scout reflected for a few moments.

“Considering the temper of this town against them,”
he remarked, at last, “it’s strange that Ginderlee and his
men continue coming here. There'll. be a rdw, some day,
and a street fight. You'd get a case against the King
Pin outfit then, Pawnee, but it might be at the expense of
a few lives. That has got to be avoided. Your plan to
warn the men away seems a good one. The question is,
would they leave with a warning?” *

The eyes of the younger man flashed ominously.

“They'd either leave or take the consequences,” he

‘answered, his voice sharp as the click of a steel trap.

99

 

“Ud back you up if

There was rumbling on the rails in the direction of the
railroad station. The scout’s window commanded a view
of the station, and he got up to take a survey.

An engine was pushing a passenger coach toward the
Buffalo Bill whirled on.thée prince of the
bowie with an expression of relief,

“Here comes that lost car, Pawnee,)’ he called, start-
ing for the door. ‘Suppose we go‘over to the station
and meet Whitman?”

“Go you!” sang out Pawnee Bill, jumping:to his fect
and making after the scout. “I’m curious to learn, too,
whether Ginderlee and his men are aboard, If they are,
I'll have a, chance to put that warning on tap, muy
pronto.” re

s CHAPTER VIII.
THE BOWIE MAN'S WARNING AND THE SCOUTS @: K.

The two pards made a race for the railroad station and
got there just as the belated passengers were getting out
of the car.

First to swing down on the platigrm was a well-
dressed, prosperous-looking, middle-aged man, with an
alligator satchel. He took-half a dozen hasty steps from
the car and then turned angrily.

Four villainous-looking men were crowding the rear
platform.

“You're a lot of hoodlums!” cried the well-dressed
man. :

“Aw, cork yer face!” shouted one of the four, “or
Ell shoot at yore feet an’ make ye do a hornpipe.”’
~ “I wouldn't pass another night in the company of a
lot 0’ rascals like you for a thousand. dollars!” fumed
the middle-aged man. ek

“Close yer trap an’ go on,’ said one of the four,
springing down from the car and advancing truculently.
“I've had enough out o’ ye fer one spell.”””

“Don’t you lay a finger on me, you big hoodlum!” cried

the other. _ We're in town, now, and I'll complain to
the authorities.”

i

 
 

 

 

 

  
  
  

 

   
 

 

 

“THE BUFFALO

“Don’t do that,” spoke up Pawnee Bill, quietly, step-

_ ping to the stranger’s side. “Take this, friend, and give

the kiyi as good 4s he sends.”

Pawnee Bill wrenched a forty-four from its holster
and offered it to the newcomer.

“I don't want any shooting scrape with the scoundrel,”

demurred the well-dressed man.
“’ This might have been the uncovering of a. yellow
streak, or just common-sense discretion. Whatever
it was, the newcomer sank several notches in the esti-.
mation of the pards. ’

“Your name Whitman?” asked Pawnee Bill.

“The same, sir,” was thé reply.

“Well, neighbor, I’m Gordon Lillie, a partner of Or-
mond’s in the buy we're to make of you.”

“Lillie, Lillie, mused Whitman, wrinkling his brows.
*T understood that Ormond’s partner was Pawnee Bill.”

“All one and the same,” laughed the bowie man, good-
naturedly. ‘‘Call me whichever you: please, Whitman.”

, Delighted, I’m sure,” said Whitman, grasping Paw-
nee bill’s hand.

“My pard, Buffalo Bill,’ went on the prince of the
bowie, turning to the scout.

“What! Buffalo Bill?”

Whitman drew in his breath and stared. :

“As it happens,’ said the scout, a little frigidly.

Buffalo Bill had his likes and’ dislikes, and this Whit-
man was one of the dislikes. Whitman. put out his
hand. The scout took it in a perfunctory way.

“lve heard about you,’ Whitman vouchsafed.

“It’s barely possible.’

One of the four in Ginderlee’s party had vanished.
One of the remaining three—the most vicious appearing
of the lot—stepped toward thé scout.

“I'm the King Pin, Buffler Bill,” he remarked, “Abe
Ginderlee by name. This ole seed in the shiny shoes an’
the good clothes is the original false alarm. First man
I ever knowed as couldn’t take a joke. Us fellers spent
the night with him in that thar keer, an’ ev’ry time we
joshed he put up a holler. Howdy, anyways? I’m an-
other that’s heerdl 0’ ye.”

“Move on,’ said the scout curtly, leaving the horny
paw useless in the air.

A glint came into the King Pin’s eyes.

‘I moves when I please,” he snorted, ‘an’ I stays
when I please. You ain’t more’n ten feet high, I reckon,
an’ I don’t-b’leeve Injun killin’ has made ye too big a
handful fer me.” |

“I guess Pll go,” said Whitman nervously. “If there’s
a fight on I want to be away somewhere. How do I go
to get to the Hotel, Pawnee Bill?”

“Right around the depot, Whitman,’ answered the
bowie man cheerfully.

“Tl see you after a while?’

“You will—and Ormond, too.”

Whitman, swinging his alligator grip, took himself off
hurriedly.* Ginderlee and his three men lingered,

Some one had been marking a packing case on the plat-
form with a piece of heavy black crayon, and the crayon
was left on the box. Pawnee Bill, picking up the crayon,
moved to the wall of the station building.

“I’m going to write something here for you, Ginder-
lee,” he called. “Vl print it big enough so you can read
it without your glasses, providing you're able to read at
all.”

The engine began pushing the passenger coach up the

r
&

 

 

BILL STORIES. - : | 13

track. The fireman, hanging out of the cab window,

watched the group on the platform as the engine re-
ceded,
“I ain’t no fool,’ snarled the King Pin.
yell diskiver that, if ye take notice.’
“Oneshe-ma-da!” laughed Pawnee Bill. “You're the
one that will take notice, just now. Watch!” p
Then, in bold blaek letters, the prince of the bowie
printed the following on the side of the station:

“T reckon

(NOTICE!

“The King Pin and his men will take the next train
out of town, or shoulder the consequences. ma
(Signed ) “PAWNEE Bit.”

Ginderlee and his men studied the warning carefully
and finally got the gist of it through their heads.

“Mighty purty, ain’t it?” sneered Ginderlee. “But it
don’t amount ter a whoop. Who’re you, ter be orderin’
peaceable citizens out o’ Last Chance like that, huh?”

“You the sher’ff?” demanded one‘of the others.«

“Er the town marshal?” asked the third.

“I’m the man behind the gun,” grinned Pawnee Bill.
“Pardon me,” he supplemented, “behind two guns.”

“Waal, unlimber ’em,” taunted the King Pin. “If ye
kin shoot quicker, er faster’n me, I’ll go on the next train
i er box. Ef ye kain’t, I stays while you go ter king-
dont come.”’ .

“Give me that piece of crayon, Pawnee,” said the scout
quietly.

“There you are, necarnis,’” and the bowie man handed
the crayon over and backed into the open door of the
station, standing there with folded arms.

Across the corner of Pawnee Bill’s warning, the scout
wrote as. follows: ;

"OOK BURRALO Bitt.”

“There’s food for thought, men,” called Pawnee Bill,
“and Buffalo Bill has clinched the warning.”

Ginderlee and the two with him started backward,
staring angrily at the notice. One of the men had clapped
a hand to his gun. tae

“I’m glad as blazes,” remarked Ginderlee, flashing a
look at his two men, “ter know whar you two fellers
stand, Ye're new ter Last Chance, an’, from yer ac-

tions, ye’ve taken the talk-of* this camp fer gospel. I

ain't entitled ter the repertation I got hyer. If you fel-
lers was on the squar’, ye wouldn't take sides ag’inst a
man without a hearin’, Yore only proof ag’in me is
the talk, an’ that don’t prove nothin’.”

“Pve got better proof than the talk,” spoke up the
king of scouts coolly. |
“Meanin’ which?’ .

“Your face, Ginderlee. Faces never lie. What yours
tells me-is enough to shave your head and put you: in
stripes.”

An ugly gleam shot through Ginderlce’s eyes.

“I give ye a chanst ter be friends with me, didn’t 1?”
he barked. ’

“You did,” answered the scout, “but I’m not picking
my friends from high graders, or train robbers, or from
any other class of holdups.”

Ginderlee’s two men began to move around in their
cowhide boots, burning to do something, yet unnerved
by the keen*words of the calm-eyed scout.

mB

   

 
 

BE

aa : oe PA BUPPALO

“Insultin’ remarks like them ain’t ter be put up with,”

fumed, Ginderlee.
“Where’s your nerve then?” purred Pawnee Bill.
“Right hyar!”’ anne
With that, Ginderlee jerked off his hat and threw it
into Buffalo Bill’s faces © :
The king of scouts moved like lightning. His spurred

heels jineled once, for he only had to take a single jump,

‘and boch of his fists shot out. One of them hit the point
\ of the King Pin’s jaw, while the other struck the King
_-Pin’s right wrist, causing a drawn revolver to drop from

a paralyzed hand. Abe Ginderlee toppled backward and

measured his length on the hard boards.

A roar went up from Ginderlee’s two followers. The
roar was followed by a drawing of six-shooters.
“Steady!” spoke up the prince of the bowie, looking
over his gun sights at both men. “Ginderlee needed a
 Jesson in etiquette, and you ought to be obliged té Pard

Bill for giving it to him.” oe

“Waugh!” came a shout* from the corner of the sta-
tion, “Jest kiver one of their pizen varmints, Pawnee,
an’ give Pard Nick a chanst te kiver tother un: As

per us’al, I got hyer a leetle late fer ther beginnin’ 0

ther fracas, but I arrived plumb in time ter see Buf-

fler use his fists. Bee-yuti-ful! When a feller hands

Buffler his hat, he’s got ter do et some differnt. ‘Ain't

thar goin’ ter be any more ter ther set-to? Please break

loose, somebody !” ny
The old trapper, hearing that the lost car had arrived
with its passengers, and that Buffalo Bill and Pawnee

Pill had hurried to the station, had made haste to follow.

The King Pin sat up on the platform, looked dazedly
around and clapped both hands to his jaw. Then he

began to swear: ,

- “Stop that!’ ordered the scout. “I told you once to

move on, and you failed to do it. Now I’m telling you

again. Move! The train north is, due at two o'clock.

-You and your men are to take it.” ~

. Ginderlee got up and began backing away, his two

men following him. : es

~“There’s your hat, Ginderlee,” went on the scout, kick-’
ing the hat after its owner; “and there’s your gun,” he
added, and sent that after the hat. _

\

Ginderlee stooped, recovered his property, and backed

to the corner of the station.

“Thar’ll be more ter this!’ he bellowed, and vanished ©

with his men. we
“Now,” said the scout, “let’s go to breakfast.”

nen

Ag

CHAPTER. [X:
THE GAME IS PLAYED.

Whitman was in the dining room eating his™breakfast

~ when the pards got to the hotel. Ginderlee and his men
did not put up at that particular hotel, for good and suf-’
ficient reasons. de
Cayuse, just coming in from taking-care of the mounts,
joined the pards in the hotel office and went with them
into the dining room. Pawnee Bill got a seat at table
alongside Whitman. Buffalo Bill, old Nomad, and Little
4cayuse sat opposite, — § 4 Ce
“T thought somebody was going to be hurt, there at the
station,’ observed Whitman. oy

BILL’ STORIES. |

“Somebody was,” chuckled Pawnee Bill. “Somebody
walked off with a sore wrist and a sore chin.”

“ “With er sore head in more ways than I kin men-
tion,” grinned old Nomad. _

‘Who was it?” inquired Whitman.

“The kiyi who calls himself the King Pin,

“T want to know!” breathed Whitman. “And there
wasn’t any shooting?”

“Et wasn’t necessary,” explained the trapper.
~“T guess you didn’t know anything about those four
scoundrels when you got into the last car on the train
with them, did you?” inquired Pawnee Bill.

“Certainly not!” cried the Denver man. “Tf Vd known
what-hoodlums they were, you may be sure I'd have got
at the other end of the train.” :

“Tust what happened to that car, Whitman?” asked
the scout.

“Tt was an awful night,” shuddered. Whitman, “and
the first I noticed that anything was wrong the car was
sliding down grade. I thought the train was backing,
but those four hoodlums, who were sitting nearer the
front of the car began yelling that we’d broken away

9

~ from the rest of the train. Gentlemen’—and here Whit-

man gave another shudder—‘the rage of those four men
was something horrible to sce and to listen to. I never
want to go through another such experience. The slash-
ing of rain against the windows, the howl of the wind,
the glare of lightning and the roar of thunder, all gave

_the scene a backgroynd that will impress it indelibly on

my-memory. After that I had ohe long nightmare until

“an engine from Tickaboo found™us and picked us up.

The hoodlums wouldn’t give me any peace, and all the
way in to Last Chance they kept insulting me. It was
awful!” ; 5

So great was the Denver man’s misery over the past
experience that old Nomad laughed silently and winked
at Pawnee Bill.

“You brought the deed?’ asked the bowie man.
“Certainly, Pawnee Bill,” was the answer. “‘I have
everything with me, just as I wrote Mr. Ormond I would
have. You are ready to do your part?” .

“Ormond is. He’s running that mine. I never butt
in or bother him. This is ;the first time I’ve ever seen
the property, and I’ve never seen your claim at all. What's
good enough for Ormond, though, is good enough for
me.” :

“And where is Ormond ?” ”

“He'll be here at eleven o'clock.”

“T’d like to finish this matter up as quickly as possible
and get back to Denver,” said Whitman. “I don't like
it, out here. The people are too—too violent, if 1 may
say so.”

‘Don’t judge the pedple of these hills by the four

-men who passed the night with you in the lost car,’

said theéprince of the bowie.

“T can’t help it;’ said Whitman. “I’m wondering my
hair wasn’t white this morning. It was mos# unnerving,
I assure you.”

» After breakfast, Pawnee Bill and Whitman went to
call on a lawyer to have him glance over the deed and
see that it was all right.

Buffalo Bill, gave Little Cayuse a description of Abe
Ginderlee and sent the boy out to find him and keep

secret watch of his actions. At oné o'clock, if Ginder-

lee showed no signs of leaving on the two.o’clock train,

. Cayuse. was to hunt up the scout and tell him.

 

 
   

 

 

When Pawnee Bill had gone away wah Whitman, and
Cayuse had left to find the King Pin, the scout strolled
over to the railroad station and sent a telegram to the
proprietor of the Tickaboo hotel. In the message he
asked /if the proprietor knew what had become of the
baronies : :

The answer that came back, at a quarter to eleven, was
most amazing: ,

“The baron not in Tickaboo. Left hotel last night to
take train for Last Chance.”

“What do you think of that, Nick?” the scout asked,
reading the telegram to the old*trapper.

“Sufferin’ catermounts!’ muttered Nomad. “Ef he
ain’t in Tickaboo, an’ he didn’t take ther train;-whar in
blazes is he?” _

"Vie by?

“Me too. D’ye think he was asleep on thet for’ard

-kyar.an’ got kerried past Last Chance? It ‘wd be like

ther ole persimmon.”
“You forget what the,conductor said, Nick. He knew
the baron and me by sight, and he declared that the

‘baron wasn’t on the train.”

‘Waal,’ said Nomad confidently, “we got Toofer hyar
with us, an’ thar ain’t nothin’ kin keep ther baron away
from thet thar mule. He'll find ther critter. Jest give
ther baron time an’ he'll come moseyin’ in on us. He’s
blundered som’ers, I reckon.”

The scout was under the impression that the baron
had made some sort of a mistake. There was a possi-
bility that he had taken a train on the main line, instead
of on the Jerk Water branch, and was on his way to the
coast. But, even so, he’d find out his error, sooner or
later, and correct it.

At noon, and just as the dinner gong was sounding,
Pawnee Bill came in with Whitman and with an under-
sized and businesslike appearing person whom he intro-
duced as Henry Ormond. Ormond had the look of a
thoroughly capable man, and the scout gripped his hand
cordially. : :

“We've got that extension,” Ormond whispered to
the scout, with a chuckle, “and Pawnee Bill and I are
going to make a bonanza property out of those two

3

‘claims. Watch our smoke.”

“The deal’s closed?” returned the scout. ¢

“We've got the deed and Whitman’s got the certified
check, so I reckon we can call it closed, all right.”

They went in to dinner, minus the little Piute, who
was presumably watching the King Pin.

Following dinner, Whitman askedi Rawnee Bill and
Ormond to. go with him to the bank to identify him. *

“What do you want to do at the bank?” queried Or-
mond, in surprise.

“Get the money on this check.’

The scout, the bowie man, and Ormond peered at each

other as though they could scarcely believe their ears.

‘Man alive,’ cried Ormond,g‘you don’t want. to go
toting twenty-five thousand in cash around this country.
1 wouldn’t do it; and you hadn't ought to. It’s an+in-
vitation for every plug-ugly in these: parts to lay for
you. Wait and cash your check when you get to Den-
ver.

“I prefer to take the money back with me,’ insisted
Whitman, “and not the check.”

“But you don’t understand,’ put in Pawnee Bill. “A

THE BUPRALO

 

BILL STORIES. 7 ae

big bundle of boodle in a man’s. pocket is apt to arouse
trouble.” 4 ve

‘Nobody will know I have it but you, Ormond, Buffalo
Bill, and the people at the bank.”

“Some one may be watching you.” —

_ “This sort of talk makes me nervous,” declared Whit-
man. "

“On-she-ma-da!” muttered the prince of the bowie.
“Why, it makes me nervous just to think of your carry-
ing all that stuff in your jeans.”

“Tt wouldn’t embarrass the bank here, would it, to pay
out such a sum?”

Ormond laughed.

“Why, friend,’ said he, “five times that amount
wouldn’t feaze the bank here. The institution has to
carry a lot of money to meet pay rolls at the different
mines. We deposit our bullion certificates with the bank,
and they turn the certificates into hard cash. Oh, no,
you won't hurt the bank any by pushing*that through
the paying teller’s window. You're the one that will be
embarrassed.”

“T’d rather have the money,” declared Whitman ob-
stinately. ee

“But you’re a business man, Whitman,” pleaded Or-
mond. ‘A piece of paper the size of that check can be
carried a whole lot easier than a bag of cash. It’s so
much safer, you know.”

Vhitman straightened up suddenly in his chair and a
suspicious gleam darted through his eyes.

“Say,” he demanded, “why are you fellows so anxious
to have me keep this check until I get to Denver? Ain't
it good ?”’

“Good?” echoed Pawnee Bill blankly. .

“Good!” snorted Ormond, in a fume. “What sort of
a bank would certify a check if it wasn’t good? What
do you take us for, anyway, you measley ii

“Tut, tut, Hank!’ interposed Pawnee Bill, laying a
soothing hand on his irate partner’s arm. “‘It sounds
like a slap in the face, I know, but Whitman is excited.
He wants his money. Let him have it. If he doesn’t
get out ef the country with a whole skin, or with his
cash, that’s his lookout. We've got our deed. That’s
enough for us.”

“T don’t care what happens to him now,” grunted Or-
mond. “I'll take him over to the bank and introduce
him and see that he gets loaded up with his dinero.
After that he ought to have a bodyguard, but it won’t
beimes 4

“Ui go with you,” said Pawnee Bill.

So they left with the Denver man between them.

They were hardly out of sight before Little Cayuse
came hurrying into the hotel office. Catching sight of
the scout, he made for; hint,

“Me find um King Pin, Pa-e-has-ka,” said he.

“Where is he, Cayuse?”

“Him got um men at Poker Palace.”

“Does he act as though he was going to leave town
on the two-o’clock train?” :

“Tim say to pards him no go. Him go, then Pa-e-
has-ka drag um to choo-choo cars, put um on.”

“Ta-loo-ral-ay!” tuned up the old trapper... “Kin we
do thet same? Waal, I reckon!”

“Come along, Nick,” said the scout, and started for
the Poker Palace.

 

  

edhe hah ate
a eee ear
 

*

his followers were of like caliber. .

16 | THE BUFFALO

CHAPTER X.
STARTING THE KING PIN CROWD.

That the best interests of the community would be
setved by keeping Abe Ginderlee and his followers out
of Last Chance was something which the scout firmly
believed.

Since his talk with Pawnee Bill regarding the feeling
of the town toward the King Pin outfit, Buffalo Bill had
taken some pains to sample the temper of the people. He
found them in a state of mind where merely a breath

_ would set them by the ears.. The report of some new

crime, or even a rumor, would have caused the whole
town to turn out and ‘take the law irito its own hands.
If Abe Ginderlee, or any of- his men, happened to be
around at such a time, a pitched battle would be the
result.

Such a blot on the good name of the town could be
avoided by keeping Ginderlee and his followers away
from the place.

The scout, from his observations, was fairly certain

‘that the evil opinions the townspeople entertained for the

King Pin were amply warranted.

The man was a ruffian of the very worst sort, and
Neither leader nor
men would hesitate to do anything their lawless minds

_ suggested.

As Buffalo Bill-and old Nomad strode briskly toward
the place known locally as the Poker Palace, a hint of
what they were about followed them, and the people of
the town began leaving their places of business and trail-
ing along.

The scout turned just before the Poker Palace was

reached.

“Gentlemen,” he called, “I am sorry to see a crowd
gathering. There is nothing to warrant it, and proceed-
ings will go forward better if my para and I attend to
them alone. Please clear the street and let’s have as lit-
tle commotion as possible.”

The crowd hesitated a moment, then silently dispersed.

“They wanted ter see the fun, Bufiler, . hcg. y Ws
old ge

“If we're going to have trouble, Nick,”’ retuned the
scout, “they'd have made it worse.’

There was no one loitering around the outside of the
Poker Palace, but a sound of loud talking came from
within. Buffalo Bill quietly pushed open the swinging
doors and stepped through. Old oe was tight at
his heels. j

A long, low foom with a sanded floor stretched away in
front of the pards. On the left was the bar; on the
right, a number of small tables, each with its comple-
ment of four chairs. ;

Three of Ginderlee’s men were sitting at one of the
tables, smoking cheap cigars, and drinking cheaper

_ whisky. The King Pin himself was standing in front
The King Pin

of the bar, haranguing the barkeeper.
men were the only patrons*in the place.
“Tm done palaverin’ with you,’ the barkeeper was

saying, as the pards stepped through the swing doors..
' “T want ye ter keep away from my place, Abe.

People
in this town don’t like you, or your gang, an’, by patter-
nizin’ me, ye cause me ter lose the custom o’ the people in
the town.”

“I drinks whar I please,”

.

‘boomed Ginderlee, ‘an’ I

BILL STORIES. | 5

plays kyards whar I please. This hyar’s er free kentry,
I opine, an’ I’m entitled ter all thar is ter be got out o’ it.”

vt hear Pawnee Bill has give ye a warnin’ ter quit,
an’ that Buffler has O, K.’d it.”

“What's a warnin’ ter quit, even we ant) K.?”
cried the King Pin scornfully. “When I gits ready ter
move out o’ Last Chance, I'll move, an’ not until then.”

Here the scout suddenly interjected a few words into
the conversation.

“It’s a quarter to two, Ginderlee, and ‘the train goes
at two.” ’

. The three men at the table jumped up with startled
oaths, and the King Pin and the barkeeper whirled to
face the pards. Buffalo Bill and Nomad had not been
heard entering the room and the scout’s remark was the
first intimation of their presetice. x

Ginderlee’s hand started toward one of his guns. So
did the hands of his three men.

Buffalo Bill, making no move to draw da weapon,
leaned against the bar, while old Nomad, a broad grin
on his face, lolled upon-the corner Of 2 table.

“Dont bring out your weapons, ’ said the scout. “The
point Pawnee Bill is making, with my help, isn’t worth
a fatality. Persist in drawing, however, and there’ll-be
fireworks and casualties.”

Ginderlee’s chin was bruised, ad. there was small
doubt that his previous,ymeeting with, the scout had de-
veloped an overload of hate. Furthermore, he had been
drinking, and this did not promise a peaceable solution
of the situation.

The scout was expecting a warm time; consequently,
he was most agreeably surprised when his expectations
failed to be realized.

“Thunder!” exclaimed Ginderlee, with a husky laugh,
“T didn’t allow the time was slippin’ by so quick. I'd
made up my mind ter move out 0’ this burg on that
thar two-o clock train. Not bekase ye an’. Pawnee Bill
invited me to,” he added, a glare coming into his eyes,

“an’ don’t ye think et fer a minit. I an’ my men aire
goin’ bekase it suits our bizness ter go. I reckon ye'll
savvy that p’int, all right, afore ye’re many hours older.”

“Tt makes no difference to me why you leave town,
Ginderlee,” said the scout, “just so you leave.”

“Waal, it makes a hull lot o’ diff’rence-ter me,
the King Pin. “I wouldn’t go if it didn’t suit me.
a fashion, ’'m plumb sorry it does suit me ter leave
on that two-o’clock train. Id ruther stick right hyar
an’ fight this out with Buffler Bill, Pawnee Bill, an’ the
hull town. Me an’ my men hev got our rights, an’ we
got the narve ter stand up fer ’em. If bizness didn’t——”

“You’ve got ten minutes to get to the train,” cut in the
scout.

“I’m keepin’ track.o’ the time,” snapped Caiiatce.

“You and your men will start now,” went on the scout.

A great rage welled up in the King Pin. For a mo-
ment it seemed as though his wrath would break all re-
straint; and then, the next instant, it lulled aTEeDHY-

“Boys,” he cried, turning to his three men, “we're
goin’ ter leave on the two- -o’clock train, an’ we ‘might as
well be movin’ fer the station. Come on!”

With fierce looks at the pards, the three men started
after Abe Ginderlee.

A throaty laugh broke from the old trapper as one of

the men passed him. The man halted, whirled, and
half drew one of his revolvers.

” snarled

§

Arter.

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

THE’ BUFFALO

>
“T reckon I wouldn’t,” said old Nomad. _
“Come along hyer, Sim!” ordered Ginderlee.

The party passed through the swing doors, and as the
scout and Nomad passed after them, the barkeeper fell
over on his bar and drew a stertorous breath of relief.

To the credit of the town be it said there was no dem-
onstration by the people. From their stores and places
of business they could see the King Pin and his men
marching toward the railroad station, and the scout and
the trapper marching behind them. The natural infer-
ence must have been that the lawless crowd was being
personally conducted to their train, and forced to leave
at the point of the gun. A situation, so greatly desired
by the people, could hardly have failed to arouse jubi-
lant feelings. However, the general exultation did not
show itself. i

The train was whistling for the station when the King
Pin outfit reached the platform. There was a small
crowd of hangers-on to see the train go through, but
these retired hurriedly into the waiting room when Gin-
derlee and his followers presented themselves.

There was no time for the four departing passengers
to buy tickets.

The same conductor who had gone south on the even-
ing train was now going back to Tickaboo on the aft-
ernoon train.* As he hopped off the front car,-he stared
at Ginderlee and his men, we were crowding toward
the rear coach.

“They got here last night, eh?” the conductor laughed.
“Where are they going now?” -

The scout showed the trainmen the printed notice on
the wall of the depot.

“Oh, that’s the way the wind blows, is it: >” queried the
conductor. “‘Well, I think this town is getting scared
for nothing. But tlitat’s none of my business.”

He darted into the station, and then out again. At
that moment Pawnee Bill came hurrying up with Whit-
man. Whitman was struggling with the alligator satchel,
whith seemed to weigh a ton.

“What’s up?” asked Buffalo Bill.

‘“Whitman’s got his dinero, necarnis,” answered the
prince of the bowie with a wink, “and he’s in a hurry to
get back to Denver.”

“Is he going to take this train?’

“That’s the idea.” J

“Well, he cant. He'll have t to lay over here until to-
morrow afternoon.”

“Vil do no sith thing!” cried Whitman.
today.”

“I’m going

 

“But you don’t understand 1

“T understand that I’ll save a day by taking this train,”
stormed Whitman. “I say, Pawnee Bill, help me get
this satchel aboard.” :

He started toward the rear car, but Buffalo Bill stepped

in front of him. .

BILL SEORIES. 17

“Wait! said the scout. ‘“Ginderlee and his men are
going out on this train—they’re in the rear car now. Ii
you get aboard with that money, they'll have the stuff
before you get to Tickaboo. Don’t be a fool, Whitman!” ~

“Tl take my chances

“No, you won't,” returned the scout sternly,
while ?m around.”

“All aboard!” shouted the conductor. ©

The train began to move. Whitman made a wild er
fort to break past the scout and reach the moving cars.
Buffalo Bill caught him by the shoulders and held him in
a grip of iron.

“T know what’s~good for you,” said the scout, ‘even
if you don’t. You'll stay right here with that money,
Whitman.”

The King Pin and his men appeared on the rear plat-
form of the last car of the train. They seemed excited, ’
and were yelling and waving their guns. Suddenly one
of them turned loose a shot; then another, and another.
Most of the people on the platform ducked for places of
safety, and the flying lead did no damage.

Buffalo Bill and the rest. of the people thought the ~
‘hooting was done in a spirit of bravado and defiance.

They had no means of knowing, of course, that it was
in the King Pin’s plans for the supposed Whitman to
cash his check and ride out of Last Chance with the rest
of the gang. Such, however, was the fact.

Buffalo Bill, in his desire to keep the man with the
money from making a foolish move, had spoiled the care-
fully laid plans of the scoundrels for the moment.

 

66.

not

CHAPTER XI,
THE STRANGE MESSENGER,

Whitman was boiling over with wrath. Tearing away
from the scout’s restraining pands, after the train had
disappeared, he dragged his satchel off to one side and >
faced the man who had tried to do-him a good turn.

“Confound you and your meddling!” he cried. “I
know what I want to do, by thunder! It’s my money ’'m
carrying, and it’s none of your business what becomes of
rey
The scout’s cool eyes gave the Denver man a swift
up-and-down meastirement.

“You've got less sense than I thought you had, Whit-
man,” said he. “I’m charitable enough to suppose, how-
ever, that you haven’t yet got this business through your
headZ... -

“T know all I want to know——’”

“Wait. Abe Ginderlee and his men were ordered out
of town by Pawnee Bill. At that time they were not in-
tending to go. Meanwhile, however, they got wind of
the fact that you were getting the money ‘on your certi-
fied check; and probably surmised that you would go

 

Wh beni mycin py tr an mr nar able ape SLgl sas cae ua ontaadaea Wigs bass

 
 

18

north on the first train. The King Pin crowd thereupon
suddenly made up their minds to travel on the same
train with you. Why was that?’

“T don’t care a picayune why

“Tt was because,” went on the scout, “they wanted to
lay hands on the cash which you were so foolish to
carry with you.”

“I wanted to get back to Denver in a hurry,” persisted
Whitman, “and you hadn’t any business to meddle.”

“All right,” said the scout; “if that’s the way you feel
about it I’m sorry I meddled. It won’t happen again.”

He spun around on his heel and started for the hotel.
Nomad and Pawnee Bill joined him.

“He’s not worth bothering with, mecarnis,” declared
the prince of the bowie disgustedly.

“I’m hopin’ he'll git held up an’ lose all his pizen
cash,” grumbled Nomad. “Et would sarve him right,
him not showin’ no dispersition ter listen ter reason thet-
erway. Wow!” ne

They joined Ormond at the hotel, He had just been
to see about forwarding the deed to Tickaboo for record.
It was with much interest that he listened to Pawnee
Bill’s recital of what had taken place on the gtation plat-
form.

Just as the prince of ae bowie finished, Whitman rode

a3

 

past the hotel on horseback, the alligator satchel securely

fastened to the horn of his saddle.

“Where are you going, Whitman?” called Pawnee Bill.

“Tm going to ride to Tickaboo,”’. was the answer. “I
can get there in time to catch a night train on the main
line,”

“You won't get halfway to Tickaboo.”

“It’s my funeral if I don’t.”

“Waugh!” Nomad hurled after him, “et’ll be a funeral,
all right. Even ef holdups don’t git ye, the trail will.
Et’s straight up and’ down, in places—standin’ on its
head a heap more’n it lays down.”

Whitman made no response, but turned his horse nies
the main street into the north trail.

“Td like a picture of him going over that road,”
laughed Ormond. “I'll bet a month’s clean-up his nerves
will suffer.’

“Till bet he comes back to Last Chance, amigo,’ said
Pawnee Bill, “and waits over for the train to-morrow.”

The scout sat and smoked for an hour. Meanwhile,
Ormond had bidden the scout and Pawnee Bill good-by
and started back to the mine. Pawnee Bill was taking
a smoke with the scout, and old Nomad was catching

forty winks of sleep on a bench in the shade, Cayuse
was out at the corral, investigating ‘Toofer afta making
sure the mule wasn’t getting into any trouble. Taking

care of an animal like Toofer was a big responsibility.

At the end of the hour’s smoke, the telegraph oper- ~

ator came htirriedly from the railroad station and made
his way to the scout.

THE BUFFALO

BILL STORIES.
“T just got a a4 Buffalo Bill,” he announced,
“and I thought you might like to hear what it is’
“That’s kind of you, my friend,” answered the scout.
“Has it anything to do with my. Dutch pard?”
“No, The conductor of the train wired back that Gin-

derlee and his men had forced him to stop the train and
let them off. .They held guns to the conductor’s head,

“and he couldn’t do anything else but give the engineer

the. signal.”

“Where did that happen’ °” asked the/scout, deeply in-
terested.

“Why, close to the old ore spur aoe halfway between
here and Tickaboo.”

“Near the place where thatecar broke loose from the
train, last night, eh?” °

“Same. place.”

The operator turned and started back to the station.

“Shades of .Unk-te-hee!’ muttered Pawnee Bill,
“What. do you.think that means, necarnis?”

“It might mean several things, Pawnee,” returned the
scout, “but I’m inclined to think that the King Pin has
figured it out that Whitman will try to ride horseback
to Tickaboo, and that he and his men stopped the train
and got off at the old ore spur so they could cut across
to the trail and be ready for Whitman when he comes
along.” f

“There are two trails between here and that ore spur,”
said Pawnee Bill. “They'll either have to: cover both
of them, or go further north to the place beyond where
the trail forks.”

“Well, they can do that.
with him to cover both trails, if he wants to.
won't make much of a handful.”

Ginderlee has enough men
Whitman

“The fool deserves all that’s coming to him.”

“No doubt; for all that, however, I’m sorry he’s get-
ting into trouble. I’ve half a notion to saddle up and
ride after him.”

“1 wouldn’t bother with him any more, necarnis,’*said
the prince of the bowie earnestly. ‘He’s made his own
bed, so let him fill it,”

“That’s one way to look at it, of courses but what we
want,. Pawnee, is a clear case against the King Pin.
This looks like a chance to get it.” :

Pawnee Bill started forward in his chair as the scout’s
meaning dawned upon him.

“Deserted Jericho!” he muttered, “I hadn't thought
of that!”

“Percival isn’t able to help us get a line on the gang,”
purstied the scout, “and maybe this matter is just the
thing that will help us.”

- “We'll hit the trail at once, if you say so.”

At that moment two men came up the street toward
the hotel carrying the limp, senseless form of a man.
Behind them followed a small crowd, one of the crowd

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

‘ THE. BUPE ALO

leading’ a horse. The horse had on a bridle, but no
saddle.

“What’s the trouble here?” asked the scout, getting up.

The two bearers brought their. burden forward and
laid it om the bench which old Nomad made haste to va-
cate.

“Why,” explained one of the men, “this feller’’—he
pointed to the still form on the bench—‘rode inter the
edge o’ town on that hoss’’—he turned and pointed to
the led animal—‘‘an’ said jest two words. Them words
was ‘Buffler Bill.’ Arter that the feller drapped from
the hoss, plumb tuckered, I reckon. We picked him
up an’ toted him here. Know him?”

The scout looked at the man on the bench. He was
middle-aged and his face bore the stamp of some refine-
ment. Pis clothing consisted ofan old shirt and an old
pair of trousers. He was bareheaded and barefooted.

“T never saw him before,” said the scout. “Have you
ever seen him, Pawnee?”

“He's a new one on me,” replied the prince of the
bowie. “Get some ‘water, Nick,” he added, to the old
trapper, “and we'll se what we can’ do to bring him
around.” en

The scout bent over the man, picked up one of his
hands and felt his pulse; then he gave him a hurried ex-
amination. i.

“There’s no injury,” he announced. “He must have
had a hard ride, and have pegged out. He doesn’t look
like he belonged in these. hills.”

A man pushed his-way through the crowd excitedly.

“He's one o’ Abe Ginderlee’s gang!” the man asserted
confidently.

“What makes you think that?” asked Pawnee Bill,
whirling sharply on the speaker.

“Kase of the hoss,” was the answer.

“What about the horse?” :

“T keep the town c’ral,” went on the man, “an’ I reck-

*“ ernize the hoss, I do.”

“Who owns the animal?”

“T dunno who owns it, but Pete,,one 0’ Ginderlee’s
men, rode the brute ter town last time he was hyér.
Thar’s a barbed-wire m@rk on the cridter’s shoulder,
an’ I knowed the hoss the minit I set eyes on that mark.
The feller’s one of the gang.”

“Tt’s queer that the stranger should “have Pete's ’

horse,” said the scout, “but he doesn’t look much, like
the average run of the King Pin’s men. If he was one
of that outfit, why should he be here in this condition ?
He hasn’t anything in his pockets, not a weapon to his
name, and he’s barefooted, bareheaded, and uncon-

99 eK
\

 

scious. * He
The water had ‘been’ brought and Pawnee ‘Bill and

old Nomad had begun work, looking to the stranger’s

resuscitation. Their efforts met with quick success.

“Fes? comin’ out o’ et!” announced the trapper.

&

BILL STORIES.

Se eae ee oe

  

19

The than had opened his eyes and was looking blankly
into the faces above him: :

“Who are you?” asked the scout, pushing closer to
the stranger’s side.

“My name’s Whitman,’ was the answer.
“Whitman?” echoed the scout, while the rest of the
pards looked at each other in wonder. J
ws Yes, Whitman ; I’ve met with foul-play at the hands
6f Abe Gindérlee and his gang. They stole my clothes,
my money, and personal property, and my satchel and

a deed I had-to a mining claim-——’
“That’s enough,” broke im the scout hurriedly. “Get”,
up the horses, Nick, you and Cayuse, and see how quick |

you can do it.” ee
The old trapper and the little Piute made haste to
execute the scout’s orders. :

’

a

 

o
CHAPTER XII.

THE BARON STARS HIMSELF.

The baron was left making his way ‘back through the
night toward the mouth of the tunnel, desperately de-
termined to do something that would benefit Whitman,
the prisoner. eo -

Cheated out of his design to ride to Last Chance on
the roof of the lost car, the baron hit upon the expe-
dient of securing one of the half dozen horses he had
seen in the underground chamber of the old mine, and
using the animal to take him to his destination.

It was either secure a horse or walk. All forms of
pedestrianism were regarded by the baron with great
disfavor, especially on an empty stomach., Apart from
that, the necessity for getting to Last Chance in the
shortest possible time was great. Upon his expedition in —

" Jaying everything before Buffalo Bill might depend the :
sticces®® or failure of the King Pin gang in carrying out
a big robbery.

Warily entering the tunnel, the baron got down on his
tenees and crawled toward the chamber. He was very,
careful to follow the right wall, so that he should not
duplicate his recent disasgrous experience of getting
lost in the mine. % ~

In due course he came to the angle, around which He
had watched the gang and listened to their talk. The
lanterns were still burning. Whitman, no doubt greatly, :
fatigued with his misadventures, was lying on his bound,
arms at the foot of the post, to all appearances sound
asleep. Pete was lying on ‘one of the cots, and snoring

loudly. Jingles, sitting near him, was playing a game
of solitaire with a pack of_cards. A lantern over his
head gave him light, and he was so‘seated that his back , -
was toward Whitman, and the horses.

The horses, as already stated, were at the side of the
chamber, directly across fror the sleeping quarters of ©
the gang. € :

a

   
  
 

  

 

ao | ‘THE BUFFALO

A thrill shot through the baron as he surveyed this
scene. While Pete slept, and Jingles played his solitaire,
could not the baron steal into the chamber, get a bridle
on one of the horses, and then make a dash for the tun-
nel mouth and freedom?

He believed that he could, and sfraightway began pit

ting his daring plan into execution.

And daring it was, to the last degree. Unarmed as he
was, if Jingles discovered him there would be iaoaal
and the chances were greatly against the baron’s getting
out of that old mine alive.

The baron, however, had his mind on success, and: did
not stop to consider a possible failure. He had to star
himself, in some way, in order to make up for that mel-
ancholy business at Vogel's,

Leaving the tunnel on hands and knees, he made his
way, foot by foot, around the wall of the chamber and
toward the horses. o

The lantern illuminated only portions of the huge
rock room. Where the baron was crawling, the shad-
ows lay thick. As he moved on and on he kept cautious
watch of Jingles. *But Jingles, much to the baron’s re-
lief, was absorbed in his game.

Presently the baron reached the bales of hay and
the horse furniture. He would not take time to bothet
with a saddle. If he could get a bridle on one of the
horses, and get away with the brute, that would be as
much as he could hope for.

After selecting a: bridle from the clutter of riding -
gear, he crawled around the hay bales and rose up at:

the side of one of the horses, stroking the animal sooth-
ingly with his hand to prevent a snort, or a quick move-
ment that would alarm Jingles.

He was wonderfully successful, and got the bridle
over the horse’s head without undue noise. In fact, his

success had come so easy that he began enlarging his

plans.

Why not bridle two horses and make an attempt to
leave the mine with Whitman? If he could rescue Whit-
man, and take him to Last Chance

 

The glory of such an aghiey omient took the baron’s
breath. A thing like that “would be something to talk
about—and the.baron dearly loved to pose as a hero.

“Py shinks, I vill do dot!” he declared to himself.

Another bridle was secured and put over the head of
another horse. The ropes which tied the two animals to

rings in the wall were cast off, and the mounts were left _

standing, ready for instant, use when needed.

After that came the hardest part of the baron’s plan.
A lantern swung from the post planted in the centre of-
the chamber, and Whitman was lying directly under this
light. If Jingles turned for a look at the prisoner, he
could hardly avoid catching sight of the baron, ihe
baron hoped that Jingles» would not turn.

Snakelike h@ wriggled his way across the open space,

 

BILL: SPORES.

watching Jingles’ back intently every second. Luck
stood by the Dutchman, and he came at last to Whit-
man’s side. Contrary to his expectations, he found that
Whitman was wide-awake, and peering at him in as-
tonishment and wonder.

“I vas your friendt,”’
lips close to the prisoner’s ear,
you avay from dis blace.”

“Who are you?’ came from Whitman, in a whisper.

“I peen der baron, oddervise der sgout’s Dutch bard—
Puffalo Pill’s bard, versteh?’

“How did you know I was here?”

“Dere iss no time for sooch gonversationing. Oof do
feller looks aroundt, ve vill be in some fixes, 1 bed you,
und I don’d got no guns to shoot mit. I have pridles on
two oof der horses—der two glosest to der tungel. Vat
efer habbens, make for vone oof dose horses, und I
vill make for der odder. Now, durn a leedle so I can
vork on der ropes.”

Whitman shifted his position and the baron began un-
knotting the cords that bound his hands. The knots
were tightly drawn and difficult to unloose, but the
baron worked hard and succeeded in getting the rope
removed.

Jingles continued to be absorbed in his solitaire. The
baron smothered a sigh of relief and went to. work on
the ropes that secured Whitman’s ankles,

Just as he had removed these, Jingles yawned, pushed
the cards to one side, and got up. In half a second he
saw the baron and gave a yell.

“Pete! Some un’s hyer!”

Pete's answering yell was drowned in a crash of glass,
for the baron had broken the lantern that swung from
the post. He had planned to do this, in case he was dis-
covered, so the move was quickly made.

“Run for der horses, Vitman!?’ muttered the. baron.
“Here, gif me your handt!’

Whitman’s cramped limbs were none too reliable in
the emergency. The baron supported him, however, and
they started through the heavy gloom toward the horses.

Pete and: Jingles did not indulge in any pistol practice.
The men they would have Shot at were between them
and the horses, and stray bullets might have injured some
of the mounts. Instead of shooting, they rushed across

the baron breathed, placing his
“und I haf come to take

the cavern - ‘to intercept the escaping poeaet and his .

rescuer.

Before Pete and Jingles came close enough to inter-

fere, the baron had Placed Wiieaan on one of the wait- |
ing animals. yo

“Rite like Sam Hill droo der Sane cried the baron.
“Vait on der outsite for me, schust a leedle. Oof I
don’d come, den ee to Last Shance und dell Puffalo
Pill_—_

Whitman started off. At We that iarnene Bee and .
the baron came together in a rough collision. The baron,

  

      
      

  

 

  
  
  

  
  
 

 

 

   

tt
th
tk
ert ee res ets : Ren ter tener Rees ee eee
PE Oia een ae re eet ne Feta eae erent ea

THE BUFFALO

regaining his balance by a quick effort, threw all his
force into a right-handed blow, straight from the shoul-
der. His fist, by good luck, struck Pete full in the face,
and he was thrown backward against Jingles. Both
desperadoes were hurled from their feet. While they
were untangling themselves, swearing luridly and get-
ting their bearings, the baron jumped to the back of the
second horse and started into the black tunnel after
Whitman.

Bullets followed him now, uit the crookedness of the
tunnel proved his salvation. The lead spattered against
the rocky walls, stirring up stutch a frightful clamor that
the baron’s horse lunged wildly ahead. :

The baron let the horse have its own way, rightly sur-
mising that the animal would follow the proper course,
In this;he was not disappointed, and presently was out
of the tunnel, in ‘the misty gray of early morning, ranged
alongside the excited Whitman.

“Where now?’ asked Whitman.

“Anyvere, schust so ve fool dose fellers in der mine!”
answered the baron. “Dey vill be afder us, kevicker as
I can tell! Come along mit me, Vitman!”

The baron goaded his horse down the, slope. Fol-
lowed by Whitman, he plunged into the bushes, rounded
the end of the old platform and the spur track, struck
through a cleft that opened mistily between two hills,
turned to the left at a blank wall, climbed a low rise
and descended into a valley, thick with timber. There
he paused until Whitman came alongside.

“Dere iss a roadt indo Last Shance,” said the baron,
“und ve haf got to findt dot. Ad der same time, Vit-
man, ve haf got to keep a vatch oudt for der fellers
vat vill be looking for us. Der roadt ve vant goes sout’.
Come, und led us be looking.”

They looked for hours, dodging’ this way and that to
keep away from Pete and Jingles. Several times they
saw the two ruffians, loping along and looking for
them.

The baron was jubilant. He talked about himself,
and about what he had done—going over the entire ex-

perience on the car roof with much gusto—and giving -

Whitman a very high idea of his abilities.

Whitman listéned, but he was very tired and hungry,
and the baron had to call a halt several times in order
that his companion might rest.

“Dere iss grub all dot ve vant in Last Shance,” the
baron would whisper encouragingly. “Schust pull -your-
seluf togedder, Vitman, und shtick it oudt ondil velged
dere.”

It was the middle of tic forenoon when they blun-
dered upon the trail. As they started along it they made
the unpleasant discovery that Pete and Jingles, ‘who had

‘kept after them persistently, had picked up their trail

again and were after them with a determination that
boded ill for the fugitives.

BILL STORIES. 21

“We'll be caught,” breathed Whitman. “I’d rather
die than go back into that cave again!” a,

“You von’t do dot,’ answered the baron reassuringly.
“Rite along so fast as you can und gif me a shance to’
tink. -I peen slow mit my t’inking, aber vat 1 tink iss
der goots ven I ged id.”

The baron was still laboring with his reflections when
they came to a fork in the trail. Both forks led north.
The trail was split by a V- -shaped hill, and both branches
of the trail were heavily tintbered.

“You go vone vay,” cried the baron, enthused with a
sudden thought, ‘und I vill go der odder.~ You make for «
Last. Shance, Vitman, und findt der king oof sgouts.
Tell him vat iss going on. I vill vait here ondil dose din-
horns come glose enough to see me, den I vill take der
odder drail vich you don’t drafel. Dot vill make dem —
come afider me, Vitman, und leaf you alone.”

“They ll kill you!” gasped Whitman.

“T ped you someting for nodding dey don’d,” and the
baron wagged his head. “I peen a pooty goot handt
for looking oudt for Numper Vone, yah, so. Rite on,
Vitman. ~You vill ged to Last' Shance somehow, I bed
you, und ven you do, schust tell der sgout all vat I tell
you. Goot-py und goot luck!’

Whitman, with-a wave of the hand, started along the
right-hand fork. The baron, waiting until Pete and Jin-
gles could see him, rushed into the left fork.

A moment later he discovered that both desperadoes
were after him, and he gave a whoop of delight.

“Now I haf got plendy oof oxcidement!’ he mut-
tered, and rushed his horse to the besc pace.

CA Pe RX Er.
BETWEEN TWO FIRES.

Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill, while waiting for No-
mad and Cayuse to bring’the horses, had an opportunity
to secure some more information from Whitman.

“How did the King Pin crowd get the upper hand of '
you, Whitman?”

“Why, I was in the last car of the train with them, and
when they cut off the car they.

“Cut off the car?” repeated Pawnee Bill.
the car lost through an accident?’

“No, the King Pin gang of robbers cut it off the train
and got it onto the old sore spur, and close to an aban-
doned mine by the spur. I was in the car alone with
them, and they had already made me a prisoner. They
took me into the old mine, where they have a. rendez-
vous, stripped me of my clothes and all my personal be-
longings, and had a man dress up to represent me. ‘Then
the four who had left Tickaboo in the car, and the man
who was to impersonate me, went back to the car to
wait until an engine should come and find. them.

a
¥

 

“Wasn't

     

Twas a

 
 

| - that train.

- off the .car.

a‘

vf

OO NG NE OO KOEN AD Se Re AY PEs OS:

a?

ae BUerALO BILL STORIES. a

left in the mine in charge of two men called Pete and

~. Tingles.”
~“How did you escape from Pete wid Jingles? -
‘Your Dutch pard, the baron, attended to that.”
Here was another surprise. :
“How did the baron_get into the game?’ asked the

scout. co

“He had orders from you to come to Last Chance on
He didn’t have the money to pay his fare,
and was riding on the roof of the car. He was there
when the King Pin gang made me a prisoner. and cut —
After the car left, he stole into the’ mine
and rescued me. ;

“We were chased. by Pete and Jingles, and it was sev-
eral hours before we found the trail. When we did find
ott Pete and Jingles were right after us, and neither the
_baron‘nor I had anything to defend ourselves with.”

_ “What became of.the baron’s guns?” |

“Fle didn’t tell me that, Buffalo Bill. We 1 shied a
fork on the trail, Pete and Jingles hot after us. The
baron sent me along the right-hand fork, and waited
until Jingles and Pete came close enough to see him, then -
he took the Jeft-hand fork. That left the” trail clear

behind me.

-“1E that hadn’t happened Pd surely have been cap-

: ey for I was so weak I could hardly keep on the

horse when we got here. Where’ll that fork bring the
baron?”
“Into Last Chance,”

two scoundrels who were chasing him«don’t interfere

with his journey. Both forks come into Last Chance,

one east and one west of the railroad. Our Dutch pared
necarnis, is cutting a pretty wide swath, it seems to me.’

Shie's proving, himself a credit to all of us,” returned.

(the: scout.
Just then Nomad and Cee came slashing up to
the front of the hotel with the horses.

“Take good care of this man,” said the scout, to the »

proprietor of the hotel, at the same time indicating
Whitman.

“He kin have anythin’ we got in the house,’
answer.

“Just a moment, Biel Bak eleig Whienan, lifting
himself on his elbow. “Was that deed turned over by
Dudley, the fellow who was got up to represent me?”

“He turned over the deed and oot his money for it,’
‘said the scout. .

+9

“Cashed the cerenea) bce and has the hard ot as

added Pawnee yb: ce = “

“Then they've won 1 out!” ‘muttered. ‘Whitman, drop-
ping back on the bench with a groan.

“Maybe not, Whitman,’ said the scout encouragingly.

“The gang’s split up, and if we can overhaul this man_

Dalley before he joins the rest of the King Pin outfit,
we a get ae money Se But we've got to ny i

 

from Whitman at the forks,’’ observed the scout.

el Pawnee Bill; “providing the ~

was the &

. played his part to perfection.

Ale swung to the back of Bear Paw, ‘Pawnee Bill
mounted Chick-Chick, and the party got under way.

“Whar we goin’?” asked the trapper.

“After the man that got away we the money,” said
Buffalo Bill.

“He took the trail that comes in-east of the Pailroad
track, necarnis, ” spoke up the prince of the bowie.

“The same trail the baron took when he separated
“With
the baron on one side of him, and Oise ie on ‘the other,
we'll have Dudley between two fires.” sf

“Providing. Pete and Jingles don’t do something to
the baron,” qualified Pawnee Bill.

“Waugh!?-cried old Nomad. “What’s this ye’re sayin’
erbqut ther baron? Has he got somethin’ ter do uh

‘this'layout??”. - os

“He has had a whole lot to do with at, Nicky
swered the scout.

Then, as they slashed along the oe: trail, Buffalo
Bill told the old trapper all that Whitman had revealed
concerning the baron.

“Waal, snarlin’ catermounts! Pe eried lhe spacaled: No-
mad. “This -hull bizness is sort 0’ pesterin’. me ter git
et straight. Ther baron got ther paper talk ye left fer
him in ‘Tickaboo, Buffler, but not hevin’ no money. ter
pay his fare he couldn’t start fer Last Chance like er
man an’ a Christian, but had ter stow himself away on
top o’ the keer thet was cut off’n ther train.

“An’ d’ye remember how et rained? Whoosh! Ther
baron must er hed a fine time on top o’ thet keer. All

~this part o’ et, an’ his findin’ the hapgout an’ releasin’

Whitman is plain ter me, but I’m some mixed on the
rest. Jest what was ther game them eS Pin varmints
pulled off?”

“Tt was-one of the rlegetest things I ever hed Cty,
-said’* the scout.

“They simply sidetracked Whitman: in
that old mine, put his clothes onto one of the gang and
sent him along to collect the money from Ormond. I
ainderstand, now, why Dudley was anxious to get the
check cashed.”

“And why he was anxious to get out of town on that
two o'clock train, with the rest of the-gang,” supple-
mented Pawnee Bill. “On-she-ma-da! @ Say, Pard Bill,
if you hadn’t stopped that move of Dudley’s out of the
kindness of your heart, we’d never have had a chance to
get back that twenty-five thousand.”

said the scout, “that reach
Dudley’s a good actor. He
”,. The scout laughed. “Do
you remember how-mad he was at Ginderlee and the
three men with him because. they had made him uncom-
fortable avhile they were all in the lost car together?’

“We do things sometimes,”
farther than we know!

The bowie man echoed the laugh of the king of scouts.
“Ginderlee and the other three were only waiting. in
town to see how Dudley came out with his bold stroke,”

hi

S¢
THE BUFFALO

said he. “When they found that Dudley had pulled
the wool over everybody’s eyes, and had got his money
at the bank, they arranged to go out of town with him
on the afternoon train. They left the train at the ore
spur, I suppose, to go to the mine and get their horses.
Once they’te mounted, they intend to ride the trail and
meet Dudley—then divide.”

“Et’s dollars ter dimes,” said the trapper, “thet our
Dutch pard’ll hev the hull gang arter him.”

“That wouldn’t be possible, Nick,” answered the scout.
“I don’t believe those fellows will have time to get
around and join Dudley before we overhaul him.”

“Abe Ginderlee will be some surprised when he gets
to the mine,” chuckled Pawnee Bill, “and finds Pete and
Jingles, and the prisoner gone.”

“Thet'll make ‘em all the more anxious ter find this
hyar Dudley person,” said old Nomad. “A quick touch
fer ther money, then a quick rush fer parts unknown.
Thet’s their cue.”

“We've got a line on them, at last!” exclaimed Pawnee

Bill, with deep satisfaction.

“That line is liable to cost you and Ornond twenty-
five thousand dollars, Pawnee,” observed the scout.

“Maybe it’s cheap at the price, at that,” said the prince
of the bowie. “The King Pin crowd can’t dodge respon-
sibility for this affair. They’re guilty of abdwetion, rob-
bery, and I don’t know what else. We have the baron
for a witness, and also Whitman. The gang’s as good
as muzzled, in these parts. They

Pawnee Bill paused abruptly.

 

distant,
burst of

From ahead,

                                         

quick firing, then ominous silence. ’

“Somebody’s navels trouble ahead there,’
scout.

“Maybe it’s the baron that’s between two fires, and
not Dydley,” cried Pawnee Bill.

“We'll see, before long. “And Buffalo Bill put Bear
Paw to his swiftest pace.

“Klat-a-way, klat-a-way!” rumbled old Nomad, as he

said the

and Little Cayuse sailed along side by side, just behind,

the two Bills. “I’d shore hate ter hev anythin’ go
wrong with thet Dutch pard o’ ours now, arter he’s been
doin’ so much ter distinguish himself, Hoofs is trumps,

pards; then, guns!”

CHAPTER XIV.
TRICKS: VERSUS GUNS.

If the baron had to think hard to devise some means
for throwing Pete and Jingles off Whitman’s track, he
had to think even harder to get them off his own, The
baron had not picked the fleetest of the horses for him-
self and Whitman. The two pursuing desperadoes had

BILL STORIES.

better mounts. The Ge chase and pursuit had told on
all-the horses, no less than on their riders, but there
was still a good fight left in the baron.

The trail. was one of tremendous difficulty. ' In some
places it- was impossible for a traveler to keep his horse
going at even a fast walk; in others, he had all he could
do to keep his horse ee going heels over head. There
were parts of the trail bordered with cliffs on one side
and chasms on the other; and level stretches, with pas-
sable going, were very rare.

In one of these favored spots, with his enemies out of
sight behind a small elvation, the baron determined to
try a trick. It could only be a matter of time, if he
kept on as he was going, for him to be overhauled. To
reach Last Chance ahead of Pete and Jingles would be
an impossibility. So a trick, or nothing, was his only
resource.

Boulders brush bordered the. trail. Halting
quickly, the baron turned from the trail and forced his
horse into a tangle of bushes. Dismounting, he gripped
his hands around the horse’s nose to prevent a whinny
when Pete and Jingles came along, and waited.

He had not long to wait. The two scoundrels, keenly
following the scent, lashed their tired horses into view,
passed the baron, and disappeared.

Swiftly the baron led out the horse, got ‘onto the ani-
mal’s back and rode after his two enemies.

The road was too rocky to leave any record of his
passage. His trick would. scarcely have been feasible
had this not been the case.

and

He did-not ride so fast now, but more warily. Con-.

stantly he kept his gaze on the trail ahead, watching for
the first glimpse of the two men, eenny in their
quest and returning.

It was some time before he caught sight of them, and
then he found it necessary. to go back over his trail in
order to find a place to hide.

Pete and Jingles were galloping wearily as they baled
him.

“T'll bet a hunderd,”, Pete was saying, that} ihe whelp
hid out on us, an’ that*he went back ter the forks an’
took the other road when we got by him.”

Jingles jingled off a few swear words,

“We'll go back ter the forks an’ see,” he answered.

So much of their conversation carried them out of
earshot, but the baron had heard enough to fill him
with delight.

“Now,” he muttered, as he started north again, ‘‘I
got some clear shoots righdt indo Last Shance! Hoop-
a-la! Oof I vasn’t so hungry I vould feel goot mit
meinseluf.”’

When he had made his next stiff climb, and gained the

fon of an elevation that offered an extensive view of the ©

trail ahead, he saw something which caused: his heart to
skip. a beat.

23

an

Le

 
24 THE BUFFALO

A horseman was riding toward him. Was it some
_ chance traveler, or was it a foe? -The baron, at that dis-
tance, could see little of the man to distinguish him as
friend or enemy. As he came closer, however, and the
horsemen was brought into greater prominence, he rec-
ognized him as Dudley, the scoundrel who had been se-
lected by the Kifig Pin to play the part of Whitman.

Whitman’s satchel was tied at Dudley’s saddle horn.

At once. the baron’s brain was plunged into a sea of
speculation.

Had Dudley got the twenty- ane thousand dollars. Had
he left Last Chance with it, intending to join the gang
at their mine rendezvous ?

Whitman had not had time to reach Last Chance and
tell Buffalo Bill what had been going on; at least, if
Whitman had reached Last Chance and talked with the
scout, then the scout had not had time to intercept
Dudley. ©

“I got to blay spect drick oof I vant to do bomen ing

mit dot fellér, ” ‘mused the baron. “He has gtins, und
meppeso he vill shood me oudt oof der sattle—off der
pack oof der horse, I shouldt say, since 1 don’d got any
’ sattle. No, he won’t do dot. He don’d know vat I
know. He nefer saw me pefore, und he don’d haf no
itees dot I vas nexdt to der game der King Pin fellers.
iss vorking. Vat cari I'do? I vonder oof I could not
bretend to be vone oof der gang und make a grap at
him pefore he couldt shoodt ? I vill dry dot..
she vorks, und-meppe she don’d!”

The baron was very close to Dudley, by that time.
Both men were studying each other fixedly. .

“How you vas?’ queried the baron, pulling up his
horse as he came alongside the other rider.

“Hello!” was the gruff answer.

Dudley was about to ride on, with that curt grecting,

when the baron called again.
“Vait a minid, Dudley!”

The use of his name, when he was playing the role .

of Whitman, and the fact thata complete stranger had
spoken, caused Dudley to fall back on the bit and shove
one hand under his coat.

“Who’re you?”

The baron grinned.

“Vas you reaching for a gun, Dudley?” he asked, as
though reaching for a gun, just ey was a joke: ‘“Don’d
do dot. I vas vone oof der Sang. oe

“Gang? What gang?’

“Vy, der King Pin fellers. Abe schust took me on.
I come along dis vay looking for you, py shinks.”’

he demanded sharply.

Dudley bored his gimletlike eyes ito the baron.

“You're a queer-looking freak,’ said he. ‘Where have
you been?” na
“Oudt ine der. vet.

clothes at der mine, pecause | haf a ledder from Gin-

Meope

I ditn’t haf time to shange my*®

   

BILL SFORIES. - oe

®

derlee for you. Pete, und Shingles, at der mine, say
dot I come along dis fork, vile*Shingles go along der
odder fork.”

“Tet’s see the letter.”

The baron had in his pocket the fie: which Buffalo
Bill had left for him at the Tickaboo hotel. It was badly
water-soaked, but the baron felt positive it would serve
ibs turn:

Removing the jeter, he rode closer to Dudley and
held it out. . Dudley reached for it. As he did so, the
baron’s hand closed about his in a viselike grip.

A rear-of anger broke from Dudley.

“What're you trying to do?” he shouted:

The baron threw himself backward. The “move not

-only .pulled Dudley out of the saddle and cast him

sprawling on the ground, but it also unseated the baron.

“T vas a bard oof Puffalo Pill’s,’ wheezed the baron,
“und I take you for a brisoner, py shiminy grickeds |”

“Tl kill you for this!” ground out Dudley.

“IT don’d tink,’ answered the baron.

They rolled and tumbled and fought all over the
road. Their fierce struggle frightened the horses, and
the baron’s mount kicked up its heels and went north,
while the other horse whirled and went south.

The horse belonging to the gang wanted to take the
back track to the mine, while the horse ridden by Dudley

felt at home in Last Chance, and naturally made in that

e

direction.

“Take your hands off me!” yelled Dudley. “There
goes my horse with my satchel. There’s twenty-five
thousand dollars in the satchel.”

The baron*was sorry to see the horse get away with
the money, but just then he couldn’t let go of Dudley.
Had he done so, Dudley would have drawn a revolver
from under his coat and the baron’s career would have
been brought to a swift close.

At this critical moment, a tramp of galloping hoofs

‘came from the trail, to the north.

The baron, fearful of the approach of Pete and Jin-
gles, swerved his head for a. look in that direction.
What he saw filled him with consternation.

Not only were Pete and. Jingles galloping toward him
and Dudley, but with the two were Abe Ginderlee and
the fellow called Sim. ° . @

“Thar he is!” yelled Pete.

A spiteful volley followed. Bullets fanned the air all

‘ around the baron, kicked up the dust at his side and

—one of them struck Dudley. The baron’s good star
was in the ascendant, but Dudley’s was on the wane.

Dudley fell back cursing. The baron, slipping a quick

hand into his coat, gripped the handfe of a revolver,
pulled it forth, and then leaped to his: oe and began
running north.

- Abe Ginderlee and Sim, together with. Ee and Hamp,
had left the train at the spur and gone to the old.mine.

   

   
  

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Not finding any one there, and fearful of what had-taken
place, Ginderlee and Sim mounted their horses and set
off toward the trail in the hope of meeting Dudley, and
perhaps Pete and Jingles as well. Ez and Hamp, on
foot, were to wait at the forks of the trail, on the possible
chance that Dudley might. come the other road.

The King Pin and Sim encountered Pete and Jin-
gles. The latter two told of the rescue and of the pur-
suit, adding that they were returning to the forks of
the trail to take the other road. Ginderlee assured
them that the men they wére following had not taken
the back track; for, if. they had, Ginderlee and Sim
would. surely have seen’ them. Pete and Jingles then
turned their horses the other way and rode with their
leader and Sim.

The baron, of course, could not figttre all this out
with the limited knowledge at his disposal. Anyhow,
he was contronted with a problem that reqtired all his
attention. How was he, on foot, to prevent the King
Pin outfit from wiping him out?

Just when the crisis had reached its most acute stage,
and the baron had about given himself up for gone, an-
other party of horsemen shot over a “rise” toward the
south,

They were_coming at a tremendous clip, and one of
them was leading the horse that had escaped from
Dudley.

“Puffalo Pill!” yelped the baron, coming to a stand-
still and waving-his arms. “Ach, vat a habbiness! Mein
olt bard, Puffalo Pill! Now someting tifferent. vill
habben !”

CHAPTER XV.
THE MONEY—-AND THE MAN WHO STOLE IT.

“Something different” did happen, and on the instant.
Ginderlee and Sim, recognizing Buffalo Bull, Pawnee
Bill, and their pards in the reenforcements coming to
the baron’s aid, fired a defiant volley, whirled their
mounts on their hind toes and darted northward. Dud-
ley was wounded, and they could not bother with him.

m Anyhow, he had lost the money and perhaps was, not

worth bothering with.

“Stay with the baron, Cayuse!” shouted Buffalo Bill,
as he, and Pawnee Bill, and old Nomad galloped past
the delighted Dutchman.

“Take charge of [Dudley!” the scout added, and ‘was

} gone with his two pards in hot pursuit of the King Pin

men.
The pursuit was not a long one, but it was intensely

disappointing. Ginderlee and his men knew those treach-

erous hills as they knew their two hands. While the
scout and his pards were’ gaining upon them, jump by;
a

AHE BUPFALO

  

      
 

BILL STORIES. 45

   

jump, the scoundrels. faded as though the rock-ribbed
hills had suddenly opened, taken them in, and then
closed- again.

After spending an hour in a useless search, the pards
gave up and turned their horses back toward the place
where Cayuse, the baron, and Dudley had been left.

“On-she-ma-da!” growled the prince of the bowie.
“I’m a heap sorry for this! We have a chance to put
that King Pin fellow behind the bars, if we could only

catch hint: ’

“He knows the country too well for us,’ said the
scout. “Anyhow, Pawnee, Ginderlee knows we have a
case against him. He’ never trouble Last Chance any
more. Making a guess, I should say that he won't lose
a moment getting out of this part of the country. We've
got Dudley, and we’ve got back the money.”

“TI don’t know about getting back the money.”

“It was packed in that alligator satchel, wasn’t it?”

Yes, Dut 4 cre with Dudley long enough
to take any of it

“He wouldn't have taken ue some of it. If he had
had the chance hé’d’have taken the satchel bodily. When
Cayuse caught Dudley’s horse, and we saw the satchel
at the saddle horn, I was pretty sure we had the money.”

“Right you are, necarnis, I’m feeling easier.”

“T’d feel er heap easier ef we'd had er scrimmage and
landed hard on ther King Pin hisself,” rumbled the dis-
appointed old trapper. “Ef ye’re goin’ ter do er thing;
et’s best ter do et right. But when ye kain’t git what
ye want, I opines ye hev ter take what ye kin’ git, an’
be satersfied. I’m fer ridin’ ter thet ole mine an’ lookin’
ther place over, howsumever.”

“Weill do that later, Nick,” said the scout.

When the scout, the trapper and the bowie man got

back to the place where the baron and’ Cayuse had been
left, they found that Dudley had been entirely disarmed.
He was sitting up in the road with a bandaged shoulder.
Cayuse had stripped off his coat and done the bandag-
ing with a handkerchief.
. “Bards,” cried the baron joyfully, “haf you got any-
v’ing vat I can eat? I vas hungry enough to eat a pair
oof olt poots, oder an olt refolfer belt. Say, haf you
got somet’ing?”’

“We haven’t a thing, baron,” answered the scout, “but
you can fill up just as soon as we get back to Last
Chance,’ ,

“Iss Vitman dere?”

“Ves.

“He toldt you vat I dit?”

“He told us some of it—enough so that we know you
have done a big thing, baron. Your pards are proud of
you.” ©

The scout reached out and grasped the baron’s hand.
Pawnee Bill followed suit, and after him came Nomad.

The baron’s chest swelled out, his shoulders squared,

 

 
 
 
  

&
 

26 a ‘THE BUFFALO

: <

and his head went: back. He was a hero.
in his bones, and the scout’s statement’ had saoidige!

clinched the fact. a :

“Vell, I bed you I peen a tickens oof a feller ven I
ged shtarted,”’ said the baron.

“Yere sartinly a whale of er propersition when ye
turn yerself loose, baron,” grinned the old trapper. “But
sence when hev ye took ter ridin’ on keer roofs, hey?”

“How did it happen, e-be-nau-baig,”
Bill, “that you didn’t have enough money to pay your,
- fare from Tickaboo to Last Chance?”

“And what became of your guns) baron?” queried
the scout.

The time for explanations ha. atrived. But the baron
was calm. He understood very, well that what he had
accomplished would make up fo his shortcomings at
Vogel soot 87 ume

“Do you know dot game called gaigel?” he asked.

“T know et erbout a hundred dollars’ wuth,” laughed
_ the trapper. ‘‘Is that what happened ter yer’:

“Vogel und Bauermeister vas a gouple oof shkinflints

at dot gaigel pitzness,’ went on the baron, “I left mit
dem my twenty-eight tollars, und my shooding guns, und
my bocket knife. Vat a hartship vas dot! Nod hafing
der money to rite insite der drain, I rite on der oudt-
site. Dot vas a goot ting. Oof I hat hat money, den
[ vouldn’t haf, foundt oudt nodding aboudt Vitman.
Ain'd id?” ;

“Our Dutch pard gives such a good account of him-
self when he hasn’t any money,” laughed Pawnee Bill,
“that I think it would be a good idea to keep him
strapped all the time.”

“Thet’s ther tork!” approved the trapper.

“T yon’t shtandt for dot,” demurred the baron.

Buffalo Bill got down from his horse and’ walked
oyer to Dudley.

“T suppose you know, Dudley,” said he, “that. we have
a clear case against you.’

“What can a man do when his own pards turn against
him?” cried Dudley, his face contorted with pain and
anger. “They shot at that Dutchman and me, while we
were squabbling in the road. What they meant by that
is more than I know.”

“Well, you’ve played your part, “Dudley,” said Pawnee
Bill, “and you did a good job of it. You ought to have
been an actor instead of a road agent.”

“If things had gone as I planned ’em,”
prisoner, ‘I wouldn’t be here now. I wanted to take
that two-o’clock train. If I’d succeeded, I’d have been
a good ways from this place, just about now.”

“T interfered with your plans under a misapprehen-
sion,” said Buffalo Bill.

_ “You interfered, no matter why or what for, and be-
tween you and the Dutchman you cooked my goose.
Thunder, how me shoulder hurts!”

 

He felt ik”

put in Pawnee~~

-ernoon train;

growled the

BILL STORIES.

} Has the King Pin gang any hiding places close to
this place?”

“The gang’s got hiding places all through the hills.”

“Do you know where they are?” /

“T do, some of them.”

“Are you willing to tell?” |

“Pm not a squealer, if that’s what you're trying to
get at
“Ye’re mighty keerful 0’ a lot o’ men thet didn’t stop
ter think twicet afore they put er bullet intér ye,’
sneered old Nomad. :

“Was that Dutchman on the roof of that car while
Abe and the rest were getting the upper hand of Whit-
man fr’

“Dot’s me,’ put in the baron, with a swagger. “Vat’s
modre, I vas in der olt mine looking on vile you vas ged-
ding indo Vitman’s clothes. Und I hear vat you say, dot
time. I vould haf come pack by Lasdt Shance on top
o@f der car der same as I rote oudt oof Tickaboo, only [
got losdt in der mine vile gedding oudt, und der car vent
avay pefore I got to vére it vas. Ach, I haf hat some
doings, I bed you.”

“It wasn’t my plot,’ said Dudley. “Abe Ginderlce
hatched it. I looked more like Whitman than any of
the rest, and so they tacked that part of it onto me.”

“How did Ginderlee find out Whitman was coming
with a deed,” asked Pawnee Bill, “and that Ormond was
to meet him ahd give him a certified check?”

“Some fellow at Ormond’s mine told him.”

“One of ne men discharged for high grading: r)

“I reckon so.’

“Ginderlee laid his plans, but was it a part of his*plan

‘to steal the car?”

“Originally. he intended to stop the train at the ore
spur and take Whitman off. He had one of the gang
in Tickaboo watching for Whitman, and that man tele-
graphed Abe when Whitman reached town,

“Abe and two more went down to Tickaboo on the aft-
then, with the man who was on watch
there, they boarded the evening train for Last Chance.
The stormy night, and the fact that only Abe and his
men, and Whitman, were in the rear car, gave Abe the
idea of cutting the car off the train.

“The grades favored the move. There was a down
grade to the spur switch. That made it easy to uncouple
the last coach. Then there’ was a short level stretch,
followed by an up grade. The car slid to a standstill on
the level track, the switch was turned, and it was pushed
onto the spur track with crowbars. The spur is on a
down grade clear to the old mine, so she! car tan itself.”

Dudley seemed to take a delight in telling about this
part of the work. He knew it had been a cleverly con-
ceived affair, cunningly carried out. That it noe failed

was due solely to i a series of accidents. —
: ’ ae

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a

THE BUFFALO

“You'd probably have got away if it hadn’t been for
that bullet in the shoulder,’ suggested Pawnee Bill.

He wanted to work on the prisoner’s feelings and so
set him against the rest of the gang that he would tell
all he*knew about their various hiding places. *

Dudley was shrewd enough to see the point the howie
man was trying to make.

“Vou wan t work me,” said he. “*T'll tell: all I know
about what the gang has done—this is the first job I’ve
tackled with the outfit—but I’ll not open my head about
their hangouts. Ginderlee has a good many places where
he can hide—places that I ot know anything about,
nor any one else in his gang.”

“Did Jingles shoot Percival?’ asked Pawnee Bill.

“That was Pete who did that.”

“And it was Pete and Jingles who did the high grad-
ing at Our mine?”

“That’s what I heard from Abe.”

“And the whole gang tried to stop the train and hold
up?

“The whole gang, barring me:
then.”

“T reckon we've talked enough for now, pard,” inter-
posed the scout. “We'd better be going back to Last
Chance... The baron can ride Dudley’s horse, and take
Dudley up behind him.”

While the prisoner was being made ready for his
journey back to Last Chance, Pawnee Bill was removing
the alligator satchel from Dudley’s horse and transfer-
ring it to his own. He opened the satchel and looked
into it.\

“The stuff is all here, from the looks of things,”
he.

“Nota dollar of it has been touched,” declared Dud-
ley.

“Ormond -and. I are in luck,” averred the prince of
the bowie grimly.

a wasn't with them

said

a

CHAPTER XVI.
BACK TO LAST CHANCE.

Ag was evening when the pards, after having disposed
of Dudley for the night, put away their horses and went
to the hotel. They were late for supper, but the pro-

. prietor had a meal cooked and served up éspecially for

their benefit.

The proprietor made a slight mistake in underestimat-
ing the ‘baron’s capacity.. The last meal the baron had
eaten had been a dinner at Vogel’s thirty hours before.
Consequently he was hollow clear through, and the
amount of upholstering he needed, in the food line, as-
tounded the proprietor of the hotel.

When the hot food was exhausted, the proprietor drew

BILL STORIES. ™ a7

on the larder for something cold; and the bar6n was
still warehousing provender when ihe rest of his pads
got through and left the dining room.

“That Dutchman eats as.though he wasn’t human,’
complained the proprietor to Buffalo Bill when the lat-
ter stepped into the office. ‘More like a b’ar. If that’s
how he eats reg’lar, I ot ter charge him double rates.”

“Don’t jedge him by the sample he’s showin’ ye now,
pard,’ said old Nomad.
fer a month, but he don’t mow ee no more’n ordinary
folks when he’s in his us’al trim.”

Whitman was in the office. He had discarded the
abbreviated wardrobe furnised him by Abe Ginderlee,
at the old mine, and had bought some clothes at a store
in the camp. It was rather rough clothing, but any
change was more than agreeable to him. ‘

“How are you feeling, Whitman?’ asked the scout.

“First-rate,” answered the Denver man, “only a good
deal worried about that money.”

“T’m the one to worry about that,’ lanated the prince
of the bowie, “Ormond and me, amigo.’

“T wasn’t looking at it in that way. The deed has -
been turned over to you, and sent away for record. I
had no business letting the deed get out of my hands.”

“And Ormond and I had no business turning that:
check over to Dudley. Why, we even went so far as —
to go with him to the bank and introduce him to the pay-
ing teller. That’s where we were a

“How about the money?”

“We recovered it, every cent. The cashier opened the
bank for me and put the satchel in the safe. You can
have it to-morrow.” .

A great relief manifested itself in Whitman’s manner
and bearing.

“Then we're all right, eh?’ he asked.

“Right as a trivet, Whitman,’ answered Pawnee Bill.
“Tt’s just the same as thosigh: the King Pin fellows had
never meddled in the matter.”

“Except,” said Whitman, with a wry face, “that I’ve. _
had an experience I’ll never forget.”

“Your experience, and the baron’s, has given us a
clear case against the King Pin and his gang, and that’s
something we’ve been after for a long time. They have
been clever enough to hide their tracks completely in
every other case of lawlessness they've been mixed up in,
but they rather overshot the mark in this mine deal.”

“What'll be done with Dudley?”

“He'll be sent up, and probably a reward will be of-
fered for the rest of the gang. I’ve wired Tickaboo,
and the sheriff is coming up on the ae train and will
take Dudley up the line to-morrow.’

A tramp of hoofs was heard outside the office at
that moment.
“Thar’s our crowd now!” cried old Nomad. “I'll hev

ter choke off ther baron ef he’s goin’ with us.”

€
Ry

Se.

“Te ain’t had nothin’ ter eat

 
 

BR ee ad | | THE BUFFALO

“Whai’s going on?” inquired Whitman as the old
trapper darted through the dining-room door after the
baron,

“A party is going out to oe old mine to inate it over,’
said the scout. ‘Pawnee Bill and I are not in the party,
“but Nomad and the baron are. About a dozen towns-
people, well-mounted and well-armed, are going with
them.”

Nomad came out with the baron.
“Waugh!” laughed the trapper,
through yet, but I made him quit.”

“I bed you ve don’d findt any oof dose fellers at der
mine,” said the baron, putting on his hat and borrowing
a cigar from Pawnee Bill. “Dere ain’d any use oof
going oudt,’ he finished, as he fired the weed, “aber I
got to g0 along to keep Nomat und der resdt oudt oof
drouple.” =~

ee NOoRt ‘cried the trapper, “I know ye’ve -got. er
pictur’ o’ ther baron keepin’ me out o’ trouble.”

They left the office—the baron walking with a very
pronounced swagger—and presently the druning of
the horses’ hoofs faded in the distance.

“Tf I wasn’t so sure they’d not find any of the gang,
remarked the scout, “I’d be going with them.”

“That rendezvous won’t know the King Pin outfit any
more, w#ecarnis,’ asserted Pawnee Bill, “and that ‘shot
goes as it lays.” i

Long before the party got back from the mine, Buf-
falo Bill, Pawnee Bill, and Cayuse had fallen asleep in
their beds. It was not until the next morning that No-
®nad and the baron gave them a report.

“he says he ain't

“Et was shore a great ole place, Buffler,” said the old |

trapper. “No gang could hev. had a. finer hangout.
Thar’s one tunnel leadin’ in from ther hillside, an’ a lot
more tunnels moseyin’ off an’ gallivantin’ eround.. We
took a feller with us as knowed the workin’s, an’ he pi-
loted us through.

“Thar was er big chamber at the end o’ ther main tun-
nel which ther gang used as headquarters. They lived
thar themselves an’ kept their hosses thar. Ther baron
says thet when he seen the chamber fust, it was fitted

up with cots an’ evrythin’ fer housekeepin’. But. all
thet truck had disappeared. The gang went back, arter
gittin’ erway from us, an’ moved ter. some other roost.
Ef Dudley would only tell all he knows, I reckon we
could round up ther pizen varmints yit.”

“Dudley has told about all he intends to,”
scout.

Gorman, the sheriff, who had come up from Tickaboo
especially to take Dudley to the county bastile, rode
out ‘with Pawnee Bill in the forenoon to see Percival.

When they came back they brought assurances from
the doctor. that the town marshal was out of danger.

VOLE we’ can get Dudley to turn state’s evidence,” gaid

said the

BILL STORIES.

your eter see,

aes

Gorman, ‘

‘we'll have a pretty good case against the man.

called Pete.”
“Then,” put in Nomad, “ther next thing ter do ter

Petegwill ‘be ter find him. J reckon et’ll be a hard job.”

.“T believe that all the rest of the gang will get out of
the country,’ said Gormon. “They may haye good
places to hide, among these hills, but all the while they’re
in this part of the country they’re in danger. Ginderlee
has got a pretty sharp wit, and you can bank on it he'll
do what's best for him.”

Dudley’s wounded shoulder did not prevent him from

traveling north with the sheriff. ‘Whitman boarded the

same train for Tickaboo, taking his satchel, a draft in
lieu of the money, and all the personal property which
had been taken from him in the old mine.

The last thing he did, before getting aboard the train,
was to hand the baron an envelope. The envelope was
marked: ‘For the baron—a reward for valiant service.”

When. the train had pulled out, and the last farewell
had been waved by Gorman and Whitman, all the pards
clustered around the baron to find out what was in his
envelope. The Dutchman’s fingers shook a little as he
tore open the envelope and drew out five one-hundred.
dollar bills.

“Ach, py shiminy!” he gasped. “Dot's vat comes to
a feller ven he does his duty, yah, so. Fife hundert tol-
lars! I-vin dot pecause I lose twendy- -eight tollars mit
Vogel und Banermeister at dot gaigel pitzness. Say, dot
Vitman feller iss all righdt, I bed you. He can keep ged-
ding indo some more olt mines all der time, und I vill
ged him oudt ad der same brice. Easy money!’

“Not so easy, either, baron, spoke up Pawnee Bill.
“Tt would take more than that to hire me to ride on a
ear roof over the Tickaboo, Last Chance and Southern.”

“I make der rite ad nighdt, und in der yorst shtorm vat
vexulted: the ae :

“Keep ther money, son,’ * ‘said old Nomad; ‘you're
entitled to it.” -

THE END. be

We thought when we read this story that Gindelec
and his crowd put up about as slick a game as a bunch
of scoundrels ever hoped to get away with. But they
got busy again, and went themselves one better, and some
more. You'll read about it next week, or you'll miss
something that you wouldn’t like to, Any one has to
get up pretty early in the morning, to get anything on our
friends, the two Bills, but they get it just about put all
over them this time, and you'll wonder that they. are still
alive to tell the tale. Baron Schnitzenhauser gets the
rough end of it, too, but he’s still able to laugh at every-
thing and eat his regular meals. The story will be out
next week. It’s called: “Buffalo Bill at Cafion Diablo;
or, Pawnee Bill’s Railroad Mutiny.” 493 is the number,
and you'd better tell your newsdealer to save you one.

 

Jae

  
    

pl a a Bw reg ee ea

joan

Shes Sai ae Fee

oP AS

  
 

tit

ar,

Tene

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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WOLVES AND WILD HORSES.

The northern steppes of Russia present some of the wildest
scenes known to civilization. The readers of Good News
will remember a sketch published in these columns describ-
ing scenes in the re ic n of northern Europe, entitled “Chased
by Wolves.” The Monts referred to in that adventure oc-
curred in the month of January, 1873, and those of the fol-
lowing sketch were in the early spring of the same year.

The young Englishman named Hurbert was still the guest
of Count Skarinski, the two gentlemen being those who were
chased by wolves, and who came so near losing their lives
on that eventful occasion.

In that frightful January experience the ground was cov-
ered with snow, cutting off from the wolves all their ordi-
nary supplies of food, and hence their boldness in attacking
the hunters, hunger having overcome every other sense.
But the scene which we row relate occurred when the fields
were cleared of their winter’s covering, and’ the hunter's
Tisks ‘were not of so extraordinary a character while the
game was more varied.

The Englishman had tarried longer than he at first in-
tended with his friend, the count, who had promised him
some more agreeable sport than they had been able to enjoy
during an unusually severe winter. They had been more
than once engaged with wolves, but young Hurbert had not
yet even got a shot at a bear, an animal which keeps pretty
close to its hidden quarters in winter. © ;

The two hunters had ridden many miles into the wildest
section of the country in search of game, mounted upon fine
horses, and followed by servants and two pack animals.

After 4 couple of days’ good sport in which they had se-
cured all the game which they could conveniently pack upon
two led horses, the two hunters had turned their steps home-
ward. The Englishman had killed his first bear, and, feel-
ing well satisfied With the excursion, was chatting pleasantly
with the count as they:rode along, when suddenly one of the
attendants rode up and called his master’s attention to some-
thing in the distance.

“Excellent,” said the count, “but we must get near enough
to sea”

‘What is it?” asked Hurbert, straining his eyes in the di-
rection indicated. ° :

“It is a lucky chance,” replied the count, “for it will en-
able me to show you something new. I know you can never
have seen wolves hunt wild horses.”

‘Of course not,”

“Then. you will see fun.”

 

\

BILL STORIES. Ly aap

“Excellent! I smell a device, as the play hath it.”

“You observe those small objects, away yonder?”

“TI can barely see them. *What are they?”

“It is a pack of wolves laying a trap for a wild horse.”

“Can’t we go nearer?” ue
, “Yes, with caution. Here, boys,’ continued the count to
his men; “take the led horses and go on the regular way.
Mr. Hurbert and myself will watch the tricks of the wolves
ian a while from that clump of trees at the base of the
iit. 4 }

The attendants kept on their way, as directed, while the
two hunters turned their horses’ heads toward the clump of
trees spoken of by the count. They felt less fear of be-—

3

ing observed by the wolves because they had noted that the ©

animals were far to windward of them, and first managing
to place the screen afforded by the trees between themselves
the game, they gradually drew as near as they could. Se-
creting themselves, they found that chance had favored their
purpose in every respect.

- As is the case in Texas and Mexico, the steppes of Rus- ©

sia contain a breed of wild horses, which, at times, when
other food is scarce, fall victims to the rapacity of the.
wolves. These wild horses, when openly and roughly at-
tacked, or in numbers, are ugly customers to handle, and, by
kicking, they often kill many of their enemies before they
are themselves overcome. The cunning wolves, therefore,
resort to trickery in place of open force. To this species of
attack the horse seems stupidly blind at times, and his sus-
picions are not aroused until too late to defend himself. °

All this the count explained to his companion as they took
their position of observation.

- Whenever wolves associate together for mischief there is
always a numerous train of smaller ones to follow in the
rear and act as auxilaries in the work of destruction. The
larger and more powerful of the herd must be first served,
and whatever is left afterward must suffice for those who
have neither the strength nor courage to fight for the spoils.

Two large wolves are sufficient to destroy the most power-
ful horse, and it is seldom that more than two ever begin
the assault, although there may be twenty or thirty in the
whole pack.

It is no less amusing than interesting to watch their in-
genious mode of attack, showing a shrewdness and a power
‘of reasoning which one finds it difficult to accord to animals
of this class.

The scene upon which the two hunters now looked em-

braced a gently sloping glade of broad dimensions, covered
with a short herbage. There was in sight, not far away, a
horse feeding by. himself; none other of his tribe were any-
where to be seen.
“ On one side were grouped a pack of twenty-five or thirty
wolves, close together, all sitting motionless, except now
and then a subdued motion of the tail was observable, or an.
impatient licking of the jaws was discerned.

Two large wolyes, far in advance of this squatting group,
were apparently frolicking between them and the horse,
which was still quietly feeding upon a spot which afforded
him some choice substance.

These two wolves gradually approach nearer and nearer

to the horse in their gambols, all the time in the most play- —

ful and caressing manner, lying, frisking, and rolling about,
until the too credulous and unsuspecting victim is most com-
pletely put off his guard by curiosity and familiarity.

Still the gang squat silently in the same place, interested
to the last degree in these movements. “ s

“How long will this last?” asked Hurbert

“The crisis is at hand,” said the count. |

“T could shoot half a dozen from here before they could
get out of range.”

“That would spoil the sport.” .

“True,” said the somewhat impatient Englishman, watch-
ing the two large wolves.

“You must be as patient as an angler,’ said the couns,
“and you will remember this scene.”

 
 

&

ea ‘THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

“Those two wolves are separating.”

“Yes; watch them closely now:”

“One would think they’d attack together.”
“You will see. They are very cunning.”
“This is not new to you?”

-

- pop!” came the short, sharp report of succeeding discharges,

“T have seen it twice before, and when I have described |

it to strangers,” said the count, “it has been positively difficult
for me to make them believe that I was not in some way de-
ceived. I have a good witness in yourself this time, or else
I would send a bullet through those ugly, big fellows.”. ,
As was intimated by Hurbert, the two large wolves were
gradually separating from each other, one of them approach-
ing the horse’s head and the other his tail, still frolicking,
and with no apparent purpose, but with a shyness and cun-
ning“which the pen cannot describe.
. Still the gang of squatting wolves remain *by themselves,
motionless, but with glowing eyeballs.
~ The two wolves had worked themselves to within about a

rod of the horse, while the larger animal-still cropped the

short, sweet grass in the most unsuspicious manner, not
even pausing for a moment to look at.the wolves. Of course
he was conscious of their proximity, but it had come upon
him so gradually as to mesmerize him, as it were, with a
sense of indifference.

“Aa 177

hore. :

These exclamations of mutual excitement escaped the two
hunters as the critical moment came.

The attack was sinmtultaneous..

Both wolves sprang at th€ir victim at the same instant,
one fixing his fangs in the throat, the other in the horse’s
flank.

and more of their number fell over dead.

The confusion cost them dearly, for before they could get
out of range eleven of the wolves were laid low by the bul-
lets from those unerring rifles now in full and excellent
practice.

The attendants, hearing the firearms, no longer. feared
to frighten the wolves by approaching, and so hastened to
join their master and his friend. The dead wolves were
left where they fell, as the party had already as much as
they could carry. upon the pack horses, and -only the best
hides are worth the trouble of skinning the animals.

s mh,

WHAT THE DRUG CLERK SAID.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” asked the drug clerk, as |
drank the soda water flavored with pineapple sirup.

“Ys, Very. good.” Hs

The drug clerk laughed sardonically, and said:

“Of course. But then you don’t know what it is made
ot ae .

“What do you mean?”

“The old man’s out,’ he said, looking cautiously around

| the store, “and I'll let you into some of the secrets of the

a.

Both hold on for an instant like grim death. The horse,

becoming dazed and trembling with pain, begins to turn

round and round, as if upon a pivot. This for only a moment,
when the wolf hanging on his throat gives up his hold and~-

fixes, quick as~ thought, his jaws on the hamstrings, which
he severs with the quickness of a knife.
~ The one at the flank hangs on still.

This has taken some minutes to describe, but was really
the work of an incredibly brief space of time. The horse
was helpless. He lay at their mercy upon the ground.

The struggle is over. The victory is won.

At this signal the idlers who have patiently awaited the
event rush down upon the scene and begin to gorge them-
selves, the small fry of followers yet keeping at a distance
until their superiors are gorged with the still quivering and
warm flesh of the horse, and then they pick the boyes.clean,

business, if you won’t give me away.”

Strict secrecy being promised, he continued: ©

“The old man made that pineapple sirup, but he didn’t
make it right from the fruit. He made it out of old cheese,
‘that. you could smell through a fireproof safe. Full of
“skippers, too! I'll tell you a curious thing about that cheese.
The old man cut off a slice and brought it upstairs here
with him one night.. He laid it on the@gcounter; next morn-
ing it was gone. Come to look, the lfttle animals in it had
shoved it onto the floor, wriggled it down the stairs, and put
it back exactly in its old place in the cheese. The old man
said that was an extraordinary illustration of the strength
of the home instinct in the brute creation.

“Yes, and our sarsaparilla sirup he doctors up by extract-
ing juice from bootlegs and old trunks. He distills all our
lemon sirup from roofing shingles and from chips that we

~get over there at the cooper’s shop; and when we run out

2

of raspberry all he wants is a handful of red bugs, a gallon
of coal oil, and half an hour by himself. And as for the
soda water itself—well, if people only knew how we use

up seidlitz powders when the soda is short, the store’d bx

* “‘Often’ is not the word for it.

while the satiated animals withdraw a rod or so, and sit lick-

ing their chops, apparently regretting that they can hold no
more.

So ravenous are these savage creatures that of the car-
cass of the horse nothing whatever is. left in thirty minutes

except the frame, many of the smaller bones even being con-

sumed.

“T cannot wait any longer,” said the Englishman. “I must
have a shot at them.”

“Well, we have seen the whole affair, the complete opera-
tony’ said the count,”
- “Let us blaze away, then.”
“Very good.”
Both men brought their repeating rifles to their shoulders.
“Hold, count!”
“What is it?” |
“Let us make sure of those two cunning devils wh

brought down the horse. You take the one at the right,”

said Hurbert, “and I will aim for the other.”

The first sense of an enemy near at hand which the gorged
animals realized was thosé two first shots which caused
their leaders to roll over upon the greensward in the throes
of death. They were for a moment confused, and, seeing

no enemy, they ran toward the clump of woods until “pop! ~

gutted by a howling mob in less’n an hour!”
“Do you do that kind of thing often?”

The drug business is a
perfect fraud. These porous plasters. The-old man has a
national reputation for them. He makes ’em out of old
sunbonnets and glue—cuts up the sunbonnets and smears on
the glue; and when you get one of his plasters on your
back it is there for life: There’s a man comes in here most
every day to swear at the old man because he put on one
of our plasters for a lame back in 1848, time of the Mexi-
can War, and as he couldn’t get it off, the skin grew over it
like the bark of a tree, you know. That plaster has worked
farther and farther in until now it’s gone to his lungs, and it
pulls at his left lung in a way to set him etary.  f1e:is a
very remarkable chemist—the old man. I do believe he
could-make paregoric out of umbrellasgand boil down an
illustrated weekly paper into attar of roses. He has the
blamedest ingenuity. You wouldn’t believe.” |

“But your customers generally ate satisfied?” |

- “Oh, yes! You see, they don’t know. A: doctor sends a
prescription here, written in a dead language. ‘We don’t
bother ourselves to try to read it. I ask the boy what's
the matter with the patient. Then I put a little cayenne
pepper in some molasses, and touch her up with assafetida to
give her a good, strong smell, and drop in some squills and
ipecac to make a kind of a goneness in the stomach, and
stir i some wormwood to make her take hold of the insides,
and then let her go. Patient thinks it’s splendid because it

fy

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Th
  

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+

THE BUFFALO

tastes nasty; and the old man gets the money, and so every-

body’s happy. There’s a woman around in Pine Streef with -

lumbago who deals with us, and one day when I forgot to
put the assafetida in the lotion she sent around and threat-
ened to prosecute us for malpractice. The old man fixed up
the next bottle so that you could have smelled it in Asiatic
Turkey when the cork was out. That se¢med to calm her.”

“Do the physicians approve of that kind of thing?”

“Oh, you know the doctors all work on shares with the
old man. If a doctor sees a woman is going to die anyhow,
he loads her up with drugs, and then collects twenty-five per
cent. commission from us. And so when we accidentally put
in arsenic instead of glauber salts, and a convalescent pa-
tient climbs the golden. stair, the doctor knows better than
to make a fuss about the mistake. He wipes his eyes and
tells the family he saw the disease would be fatal from the
first. We have a new boy here who makes about four fatal
blunders a week. Never gets hold of any harmless drug
when there’s a deadly poison within reach. The old man
hires him for economy. Only last week he sent a quart of
laudanum to a young clergyman who sent for port wine,
and one of our best customers was an angel in less than an
hour. If that boy was let go; perfectly loose, to do just as
he pleased, he’d fill all the cemeteries in town before the
month was out. Yellow fever and cholera combined are
not half as dangerous as that boy.”

“Where is her's: 3

“Why, he is out now. He took to Mrs. Jones, who has
cerebro-spinal meningitis, the medicine that was intended for
Mrs. Blackburn’s baby; and the baby got Mrs. Jones’ pre-
scription. He has gone back to rectify the mistake. You
just notice when you go by Blackburn’s if there isn’t crape
on the door. I bet you a pound of cough lozenges that baby
was waited into the mysterious realms of the hereafter
three-quarters of an hour ago. That boy never knows
where anything is but the gumdrops and the licorice. He
can go straight to them every time. Here he comes, now.
Say, Johnny, did you fix it all right?”

“No,” said a small boy, who entered at the moment.
“Blackburn’s baby got a dose before I reached the house, and
it has gone up.”

“I told you so,” said the clerk to me. And then, turning to
Johnny, he said: vs

“You look sharp, now. ,Go into the cellar and mix the
red paint with the old man’s patent liver pads, and see if
we ain’t nearly out of the lard and soft soap for his Balm
of Peru for removing freckles and purifying the com-
plexion.”

“Why,” said the boy, drawing his head out of the gum-
drop drawer, “the old man told me he wanted the lard put
up into boxes for tetter ointment, and that when I was done
I should melt up the glue for the jujube paste.”

While the clerk argued the matter with him, I paid for
the soda water ahd withdrew Both the clerk and the boy
struck me as likely to be very efficient as instruments of sud-
den death.

BROKE THE PIRATE’S HEART.

The little story that we are going to tell is about a pirate’s
son and how he turned out.

It is very sad to have a son who turns out differently from
what you desire or expect; to take great pains with his edu-
cation, and then for him to go in a direction quite contrary
to his bringing up.

Once there was a pirate who had an only son. He doted
on the boy, and wanted him to grow up and become a credit
to his parents; so he spared no expense on his education.
He not .only taught the boy at home, but sent him to one
of the best piratical schools in the country for six months
in every year. . :

He furnished him withthe “Pirate’s Own” library, and
introduced him to the society of the most distinguished buc-
can¢ers in the neighborhood, whose conversation any boy,

 

 

 

BILE STORIES. © 3

&

might profit by; but all to no avail. The more that, parent
tried to set him the path that would lead to piratical suc-
cess, the more the boy strove’ to thwart his wishes,

When he should have been learning the quickest method
of scuttling a ship or cutting a throat, that boy would be
discovered in a corner immersed in an instructive book, and
he would steal away from the society of the most instructive
corsairs to attend the meeting of the Mutual Improvement
Association.

It is easy to guess the result of all this. The boy con-
tinued to disregard the teaching, the remonstrances, and
even the threats of his father, persisting in following what
he weakly called a worthy career, until he finally broke that
poor pirate’s heart, and brought his gray hairs down in sor
row to the grave. ,

ABOUT MERCURY.

Mercury, commonly called quicksilver, because it looks like
silver and flows quickly, is the only metal which is liquid at
the common heat of the air. Small drops of pure mercury
are sometimes found, but it is usually obtained from an ore
called cinnabar—the sulphide of mercury—made up of mer-
cury and sulphur. The metal is easily procured by heating
the cinnabar in close cast-iron vessels with quicklime or iron
filings. The lime takes up the sulphur, and the mercury
passes off as a vapor through tubes into a vessel containing
water, where it is condensed into liquid mercury. Pure mer-
cury is very heavy, as bright as silver, and is not tarnished
‘by air at the common heat; but when heated it takes up
oxygen from the air, and is converted into a red powder
called the oxide of mercury. If the mercury is heated to a
greater degree, the oxygen can be driven off again, and the
mercuty turned back to its fluid state. It does not become

solid until exposed to a great degree of cold—from 39 to 40 _

degrees below zero, Fahrenheit. Another method of ob-
taining it is to roast the ore in a specially constructed fur-
nace, in which case the sulphur contained in the cinnabar is
cdhverted into sulphurous acid, and the metal is collected in
a condensing chamber.

WHY AND HOW WE LAUGH.

Laughing is caused by the very opposite influences that
produce sighing. The nervous system is highly excited by
some external cause. The impression is so intense, and the
mind so fixed upon it that the respiratory process is irregular
and uncontrolled.

Persons excited to a fit of laughter generally hold their
breath until they can hold it no longer, and then suddenly
there is a quick expiration, causing eccentric sounds, the
mind being too intently fixed upon the cause of excitement
either to moderate the sounds or to control the breathing.
It has been observed that laughter is indicative of particular
temper and character, according to the sound of the vowel
that prevails.

Persons that laugh in a broad Latin “A” are open-hearted,
honest people. Excessive jerking laughter is vulgarity.
Those laughing in a dry “A” are but little expansive, and
a hard lot of people. When the Latin “E” prevails, they are
a phlegmatic, melancholy sort. Timorous, unsteady people
laugh in a kind of swelling “I.” Laughter in “O” is the ut-
terance of proud, bold, imperative people. Beware of those

that laugh in “o, 0” (0). They are traitors, haters, scorners.
& ‘

A MOUNTAIN ON THE MOVE. :
A traveling mountain is found at the Cascades of the Co-

lumbia. It is a triple-peaked mass of dark-brown basalt, Sie

ot eight miles in length, where it fronts the river, and rises
to.a height of almost two thousand feet above the water.

That it is in motion is the last thought which would be
likely to suggest itself to the mind of any one passing it; yet
it is a well-established fact that this entire mountain is mov-
ing slowly but steadily down the river.

~

  
 
  

  

 

 

 

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STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City.

. Dear Sirs

TIP TOP WEEKLY, NOS aa ae,
NICK CARTER WEENIY, 0 eke
DIAMOND DICK WEEKLY, “ .................. oe

WNGME EUs hea coer isc bees seu eeb eas

/

 

Enclosed please TIRES os Co oa e ks eee Cove reeks

eocee TrstesescescecssecccccsccooccccnesgeevessecsessdIO

cents for which send me: |

BUFFALO BILL STORIES, NOS....sersssecesecencserearesssers
BRAVE AND BOLD WEEKLY, “

ape SCOCOTOOOOHOOCOECASEOOHOOSSHHOHEOOOHEY

rere: sSEPEEEs eecesere secon ieesccesanesssCHly sosovecsseaneecccenecececer ee sSEGl@secernsnneee

2

  
 
 

=

 

BUFFALO BILL STORIES

 

 

ISSUED EVERY TUESDAY

BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVERS

 

 

There is no need of our telling American readers how interesting the stories of the adventures

of Buffalo Bill, as scout and plainsman, really are.

These stories have been read exclusively in this

weekly for many years, and are voted to be masterpieces dealing with Western adventure.
Buffalo Bill is more popular to-day than he ever was, and, consequently, everybody ought to

know all there is to know about him.

In no manner can

you become so thoroughly acquainted with

the actual habits and life of this great man, as by reading the BUFFALO BILL STORIES. |
You can have your news-dealer
order them or they will be sent direct by the publishers to any address upon receipt of the price in
money or postage-stamps.

We give herewith a list of all of the back numbers in print.

245—Buffalo
250—Buffalo
252—Buffalo
253—-Buffalo
254—Buffalo
256—Buffalo
258—Buffalo
264—Buffalo
267—Buffalo
272—Buffalo
273—Buffalo
274—Buffalo
275—Buffalo
278—Buffalo
280—Buffalo
2838—Buffalo
285—Buffalo
287—Buffalo
288—Buffalo
292—Buffalo
298—Buffalo
298—Buffalo
299—Buffalo
305—Buffalo
306—Buffalo
308—Buffalo
309—Buffalo
312—Buffalo
314—Buffalo
315—Buffalo
316—Buffalo
319—Buffalo
321—Buffalo
324—Buffalo
325—Buffalo
326—Buffalo
327—Buffalo
328—Buffalo
329—Buffalo
330—Buffalo
331—Buffalo

32—Buffalo
333—Buftalo
334—Buffalo
335—Buffalo
336—Buffalo
337—Buffalo
338—Buffalo
339—-Buffalo
340—Buffalo
341—Buffalo
342—Buffalo
343-——Bnuffalo
344—Buffalo
345—Buffalo
346—Buffalo
348—Buffalo
349—Buffalo
350—Buffalo
351—Buffalo
352—-Buffalo
353— Buffalo
354—Buffalo
355—Buffalo
356—Buffalo
357—Buffalo
358—Buffalo
359—Buffalo
360—Buffalo
362—Buffalo
363—Buffalo
364—Buffalo

BES eosts Quarry: yoo ils es 5
Bill onvax ong: Hunt. 22:5 os 5
Bill and the Redskin Wizard 5
Bill’s Bold Challenge....... 5
Bill’s Shawnee Stampede.... 5
Bill on a Desert Trail...... 5
Bill in Tight Quarters...... 5
Bill and the Bandits in Black
Bill in the Canyon of Death.
Bill’s Dusky Trailers.......
Bill’s Diamond Mine........ 5
Bill and the Pawnee Serpent
Bill’s Scarlet Hand 5
Bil’s Daring Plunge.....:.. é
Bills Ghost  Rai@ec.e oes
Bel Up a eS CUmD chai cre we toes
Bill’s Master-stroke.........
Bill and the Brazos Terror... 5
Bill’s Dance of Death

Bill’s Medic#ie-lodge........
UME Perlis see sie ees
Bill’s Black Hagles..........
Bill’s Desperate Dozen...... 5
Bill and the Barge Bandits.
Bill, the Desert Hotspur.... 5
Bill’s Whirlwind Chase.....
Bill’s Red Retribution...... 5
Bil’s Death Jump....... Pecos
Bill in the Jaws of Death....
Bill’s Aztec Runners...... 5
Bill’s Dance with Death.....
Bill’s Mazeppa Ride........ é
Bills Gypsy. Bandas. . oe
Bills: GO eEunters 3.1 eur
BE in} Old -Mexieoe 3 6.2 iss 5
Bill’s Message from the Dead
Bill and the Wolf-master.... 5
Bill’s Flying Wonder....... 5
Bill’s Hidden *Gold.........
Bills: Outlawe rai. ce.
Bill and the Indian Queen...
Bill and the Mad Marauder...
Bills tee: Barricades: es. .
Bill and the Robber Elk.....
Bill’s-Ghost) Dance... 22... 5
Bill’s: -Peacé-pipe... 24 es
Bill’s Red Nemesis.........
Bill’s Enchanted Mesa...... E
Bill in the Desert of Death.. !
BuilleePay Streaks. tc 5
Bill. on Detached Duty......
Bill's; Arm: Mystery. oy
Bill's: Surprise’ Party .2.2...
Bills “Great Ride esis eo he 5
Bisa water ira skies.
Bill’s Ordeal of Fire........
Bill's
Bill’s
Bill’s i
Bills: Mat-boat (Drift. 2 0%
Bi ONG HDCCK ice ceaae tec teus 5
Bill and the Bronco Buster. .
Bill’s Great Round-up...... 5
BTS ee Pledge artistes es 5
Bills. Cowboy i Pards. 1. 22:
Bill and the Emigrants......
Bill Among the Pueblos.....
Bill’s Four-footed Pards....
Bills Protepe aie ass ies
BuUS SPIGA Ds sie ticent aie wes
PSUS QUeStie Bale Sec ta ‘
Bill’s Waif of ths Plains.... 5

 

366—Buffalo
367—Butffalo
368—Buffalo
369—Buffalo
370—Buffalo
371—Buffalo
372—Buffalo
374—Buffalo
375-—Buffalo
377—Bufialo
3878—Buffalo
379—Buffalo
380—Buffalo
381—Biurffalo
382—Buffalo
383—Buffalo
384—Buffalo
385—Buffalo
386—Buffalo
387—Buffalo
388—Buffalo
389—Buffalo
390—Buffalo
391—Buffalo
392—Buffalo
398—Buffalo
394—Buffalo
395—Buffalo
396—Buffalo
397—Buffalo
398—Ruffalo
399—Buffalo
400—Buffalo
401—Buffalo
402—Buffalo
403—Buffalo
404—B1 ffalo
405—Buffalo
4N6—RBuffalo
407—Buffalo
408—Buffalo
409—Buffalo
410—Buffalo
411—Buffalo
412 Buffalo
413—Buffalo
414—Buffalo
415—Buffalo
416—Buffalo
417—Buffalo
418—-Buffalo
419—Buffalo
421—Buffalo
422-—Buffalo
423—Buffalo
424-Buffalo
425—Buffalo
426—Buffalo
427—Buffalo
428—Buffalo
429—Buffalo
430—Buffalo
431—Buffalo

Bill Among the Mormons.... 5
Bris: “ASSIStan ce.) CoN e ios:

Bill’s Rattlesnake Trail.....

Bill and the Slave-Dealers...

Brie. Strong Arm...) 65 2s).

ite Girl Pardee oy eG

Bill’s Iron Bracelets.......-

Bilis. JadecAmulet.. 2... 2. F
Bills Magic Lariat........- 9
Bill’s Bridge of Fire........ :
Wiles? OMCs. se ee

Heike «Ply -Stredkar. 6... ee: ;
MOVIN Orage aeiee sso 5) sss ohees j
Bilie--Clean-upy. .b. 2. ee ;
Oe USCis sia Se fp. a

But @verbownde 2. Se... f
Bill's ine areas sh. . 3s ehet :
Bilis: Bic ‘Compracthi i's. 3% 5
Bill-and Catamity Jane... .-

Bills Kid Paved. hi. ieee. 5
Bill’s Desperate Plight...... i
Bill’’s Fearless Stand.......

Bill and the Yelping Crew...

Bill’s Guiding Hand........ 5
Rill’s Qneer Quest.......... ‘
Bill’s Prize “Getaway”...... b
Bill’s Hurricane Hustle..... 5
Bile Star Play. ...% 2.2: 5
Bit i es

Biller Prackenss.. c 6 i. oases

Bilspatch Pardo cei. : a
Billvand= the Bravos. es.. |. i
Bill and the Quaker....... :
Rill’s Package of Death..... :
Bill’s Treasure Cache....... f
Billserivate: War. 30.0...
Bill and the Trouble Hunter
Bill and the Rope Wizard..
PUPA CRUDs 5 5 cites os
Bill Among the Cheyennes..
Bill Wyesierede yagi. aes 2s
Bill and the Red Hand......
Bill’s Tree-trunk Drift......
Bill and the Specter........
Bill and the Red Feathers...
Bill’s King Stroke..... Lee
Bill. the Desert Cyclone.....
Bill’s Cumbres Scouts.......
Bill and the Man-wolf......
Bill.and His Winged Pard..
Bil atoBabylon Bat. ..i00-.:.
BUS One Ame eo. oes c is
Bill’s: "Steel Arm Pard....%. f
Billise Aztec: Guide nis e.2 3c. 5
Bill and Little Firefly......

Bilt in, the Aztec: City... . .. f
Bill’s Balloon Escape....... ‘
Bill and the Guerrillas......

Bills: Border Ware. i ccs

Bill’s Mexican Mix-up.......

Bill and the Gamecock..... 5
Bill and the Cheyenne Raiders

SEDUST SESE 2H

5

MDW MDE OU DU WEST St

Sl

Bill’s Whirlwind Finish..... ye

 

432—Buffalo
433—Buffalo
434—Buffalo
435—Buffalo
436—Butffalo
437—Buffalo
438—Buffalo
439— Buffalo
440—Buffalo
441—Buffalo
442—Buffalo
443—Baffalo
444— Buffalo
445—Buftalo
446—Buffalo
447—-Buffalo
448—Burffalo
449—Buffalo
450—Buffalo
451— Buffalo

mosa

452—Buffalo
453—Buffalo
454—Buffalo
455— Buffalo
456—Buffalo
457—Buffalo
458—Buffalo
459—Buffalo
460—Buffalo
461—Buffalo
462— Buffalo
463— Buffalo
464— Buffalo
465—Buffalo
466—Buffalo
467—Buffalo
468—Buffalo
469—Buffalo
470—Bnuffalo
471-—Buffalo
472—Buffalo
473—Buftalo
474—_Buffalo
475—Buffalo
476—Buffalo
477—Buffalo
478—Buffalo
479— Buffalo
480—Buffalo
481—Buffalo
482—Buffalo
483—-Buffalo
484—Buffalo
485—Buffalo
486—Buffalo
487—Buffalo
488—Buffalo
489—Buffalo
490—Buffalo
491—Buffalo
492—Buffalo
493—Buffalo

Bills Santa Fe Secret......
Bill and the Taos Terror.... 5
Bill’s Bracelet of Gold......
Bill and the Border Baron...
Bill at Salt River Ranch.... 5,
Bill’s Panhandle Man-hunt.. 5
Bill at Blossom Range...... :
Bill and Juniper Joe........ :
Bibs. Binak Scoop ie. ec.
Bill at ‘Cleamwatenoern 2 sc. 5
Biuls sWaahing “Wands 32 ey-.3.\3
Bills Cings Claim 222 yea.
BALES: COmMpadeS 38%: care, é
Bill in the Bad Lands...... 5
Bill and the Boy Bugler.... }
Bill and the Heathen Chinee. 3
Bill and the Chink War.. é
Bill’s Chinese Chase........ §
Bill’s Secret. Message....... E
Bill and the Horde of Her-

Bills Lonesome Trail....... Dd
Bu SvOuarPyerrrs 24 3h ees E
Billi -DeadweoG. 2 on...
Bil sicirst Aldea... f
Bill and Old Moonlight...... 5
Billy RC Date eee eee og. i
Bills) Davow Paice. Gees ces ‘
Bill’s “Sight Unseen’’....... :
Bille eew Warde. oh. 5
Biss winged. Victory’ >.... &
Bill’s Pieces-of-Hight........ 6
Bill and the Hight Vaqueros :
Bill’s Unlucky Siesta....... ‘
Bul Apache Cimeers i... d
Bill and the Apache Totem.. 5
Bill’s Golden Wonder....... 5
Billie -Aniestar Night oo. By
Bill and the Hatchet Boys.. |
Bill and the Mining Shark... &
Bill and the Cattle Barons... £
Bill's “Bone. OGdsr were ee. 5
Bill, the Peacemaker....... £
Bill’s Promise to Pay....... 5
Bills: Diamond Match... .... E
Bill and the Wheel of Fate.. 5
Bill and the Pool of Mystery 5
Bill and the Deserter....... dD
Bill’s Island in the Air...... :
Bill, Down Marshals so. 4.35 r
Bris sO LIM a tM ceri ol E
Bill’s Test 5
Bill and the Ponca Raiders.. 5
Bill’s Boldest Stroke 5
Bill’s Enigma

Bill’s Blockade ‘
Bill and the Gilded Clique... 5
Bill and Perdita Reyes...... 5
Bill and the Boomers....... 5
Bill Calise ae Toten i aie ce
Bill and the Ke-week Totem. ¢
BLS 2 Os Keg ss oer sas ous fara acs i
Bill at Canon Diablo... 3. ; e

If you want any back numbers of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be obtained direct

from this office.

Postage-stamps taken the same as money.

STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, 79-89 SEVENTH AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY

nent