) eee tne ATS2: fs d HE Raa ee rae ae Sic Http Sie ate iia ee GAASIR aooeaae AN oI SESS Pte a ae ay ae at area aes a et { i i Hn i fi i ' ul Maire ‘5 . a : ill of tim alo B got the wrong Buff he number th e€ ck ni t i in Fr? ° Capta Drop it 9 6é 1e of the wheel he cried 99 e, turn Chan  Se en but brought no response. tssued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. V. Post Office, by STREET & oe 79-89 ———— Aveé., NV. Yi Copyright, 1910, dy STREET & SMITH. No. 476, NEW YORK, June 25, 1910. Price Five Cents. Buffalo Bill and the Wheel of Fate OR, Destiny at Deep Notch. By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.” CHAPTER: T. FATE SHUFFLES THE CARDS. Deep Notch lies on one side of the San Leone Moun- tains and Dry Bone on the other. At Deep Notch there was lode mining, with a ten-stamp gold mill, a blacksmith shop, a boarding house, a general store, and all the other buildings that comprise a well-equipped camp; at Dry Bone there were placerings, with huts scattered for miles up and down the gulch. So much for the scene. Between these two camps a new turn in the game of - Destiny was to be played. It fell out that Fate began shuffling the cagds i in Dry Bone. It was close to midnight when two men rode up to the southernmost cabin of the gulch. Drawing rein before the door, one of the riders leaned down from his saddle _and pounded on the planks with the butt of a revolver. The noise echoed hollowly through the log structure, The knocking was repeated with more vigor, but with no better result. “No one at home, baron,” said the man, straightening in his saddle and shoving the revolver back into his belt. “Oof he is, Vild Pill,” returned the other, ‘den der fel- ler shleeps like some logs, Anyhow, T peen so diret dot I von’t rite any furt’er. vas. Py chincher, I vill shday here ondil morgen.” “Correct,” answered Wild Bill. “I don’t care so much about your being played out, but we’ve sure got to be careful of that mule.” vec her tPA ci aia Te Und der mu-el iss so diret as I ~ There was raillery in the Laramie man’s voice, but his Dutch pard may have been too weary to notice it. “Ve shtop here for der nighdt und haf some goot rests mit ourselufs,’ returned the baron, “und den ve go on py sunup und reach Teep Nodch py néxdt dewfall, und rechoin Puffalo Pill, olt Nomat, und Leedle Cayuse. Yah, so; ve can do dot so easy as nodding.” They dismounted. Wild Bill, pushing one arm through the looped bridle reins, laid a hand on the door latch. Rather to his surprise, the door yielded and creaked open. . The Stygian blackness of the hut’s interior yawned in front of the pards. “We'll not have to sleep outside, at any rate,’ remarked Wild Bill, with considerable satisfaction. “We'll picket our horses by food and water, baron, and then invite ourselves to partake of the Bpepsaiies of this empty hangout.” . “Vat a luck!” murmured the baron. Some distance beyond the cabin, well back from the footpath that ran northward through the .widely strag- gling camp, the pards found water and grazing ground. Here Beeswax, Wild Bill’s horse, and Toofer, the baron’s \ mule, were tethered with twenty-foot picket ropes. The riding gear was hung from a tree branch, back of a screen of brush, and the pards returned to the hut and stepped’ across the threshold into the blank darkness. Wild Bill struck a sulphur match. The feeble gleam showed him a board shelf against the wall with a candie in a tin candlestick. Soon a better light illuminated the _ hut’s one room. eee There was a sheet-iron stove in the room, a rough  paton,:" DL ain he (SA nah iment a parm aa: : THE BUFFALO board table, a bench, a couple of three-legged stools, and a cracker box cupboard. “Not many luxuries here,” remarked Wild Bill; “but then, baron, we wouldn’t know what to do with luxuries if we had them.” “A bunk iss nod a luxury,” said the baron. ‘Vere iss a. bunk, eh? I don’d see a bunk.” “Perhaps the bunks are upstairs,” and the Laramie man pointed to a ladder against the end wall. The ladder led to regions where whipsawed planks partly covered the rafters. There were gaping cracks between the planks, and a number of loose ends which must have made walking on them a perilous performance. “Subbose ve go oop und haf a look?’ suggested the “Take the candle and look,” answered Wild Bill, drop- ping down ona stool. ‘“‘I’ll wait till you report, baron, I don’t know but I’d rather chance the floor. down here than those planks overhead.” The baron took the candle in his left hand and slowly climbed the ladder. The upper half of his body disap- peared through the opening at the top of the ladder, and a moment later he let out an exultant whoop. ‘ “Dere iss two peds, Vild Pill!” he called; “two peds mit plankets, py shinks !’’ “Buenos! Go on up, pard. I'll close the door and fol- low you.” . The baron vanished entirely, yellow gleams shining downward between the planks as he moved across the loft on hands and knees. : Wild Bill had just closed the door when a shout of alarm came from the baron, and the loose end of a plank tilted ominously. Being directly under that end of the plank, Wild Bill leaped to get clear. But the baron did not fall. In some manner he succeeded in saving him- self, and the other end of the plank flopped back on the rafters. The candle came down, however, and the baron could be heard gasping over his narrow escape. “Id vas tangerous to be safe oop here, bard,” re- marked the Dutchman. “A leedle more und I vould haf landed in,a heap mit meinseluf.” _ “A miss is as good as a mile,” laughed Wild Bill, “Pring der candle ven you come oop.” The candle had been extinguished in the fall, and where it was the Laramie man could not discover, “Hang the candle!” said he, giving up the search. “I reckon we can go to bed in the dark, baron.” “It iss a pad blace to fool aroundt in der tark,’” “We'll have to be careful, that’s all.” Wild Bill fumbled his way up the ladder and bumped his head against the roof while gingerly groping his way across the treacherous boards. “Where’s my bunk?” he asked. “East oof me, bard,” chuckled the baron. “TI peen in vone, und now you ged in der odder und ve vill shleep.” The Laramie man found the straw mattress and the “blankets without much trouble, and pulled off his boots. “I don’t know what the two rawhides who own this shanty will say,” he remarked, stretching himself out, ne they try to come to bed and find their beds occu- pied.”’ “i don’d care nodding about dot,” declared the baron. “Ven some fellers ain’d in ped py now, den dey don’d de- serf to haf some peds, py shiminy. I vill fighdt pefore I led der fellers put me oudt.” De tA Sk ae Ra EO to a eT GT IR aS bare A RL ca Se eM BILL. STORIES. “T’m hoping they’re“away. for the night,” yawned Wild Bill, “I don’t want any trouble with men who have a better right to the cabin and the beds than we have. You know, pard, we're intruders.” “Oot der owners oof der blace don’d like indruders, for vy do dey leaf der door oben und make it so easy to indrude? Tell me dot.” “I’m not guessing conundrums just now. T’m wonder- ing if anything has happened in Deep Notch? Pard Cody, Nomad, and Little Cayuse have been there for two days, and it’s hardly possible they could be in a mining camp for two days without turning up something.” “Dot’s righdt. Oof dey durn oop somet’ing, den I hope dey don’d durn it down again pefore ve ged close enough to helup. Schust vy dit our bards hurry on to Teep Nodch und leaf us in Lone Shtar ?” “Why, we had to stay in Lone Star to make affidavits regarding Breathitt and Thompson, so——” “Yah, so. I know dot. Ve remain py Lone Shdar to gif der affadafits, vile our bards go on to Teep Nodch. Dot's all righdt, aber vat vas der hurry for Puffalo Pill going to Teep Nodch? Dot’s vat I don’d know.” “The scout just wanted to be doing something, I reckon. There was no need of the whole bunch of us waiting in Lone Star just to give testimony against Breathitt and Thompson.” “Dose fellers iss pad eggs. Dey killed Chasper Lee, und dot means dot dey sving for it, hey?” “Unless the law goes wrong in Lone Star, baron. It was a hard rub Breathitt and Thompson gave us, there along the Pecos, and if any scoundrels richly deserve pun- ishment, then Breathitt and Thompson deserve it.” “Sure, I-bed you. Now, oof ve could find dot Boswell feller, vat vas anodder oof der Tiamont Coterie, ve vould hat vound oop der gang for keeps.’’* “Pard Cody thinks Boswell a good deal of a weal sister and hardly worth bothering with,’ said Wild Bill, with another yawn. “We're cutting for a new deal this round.” _ “Righdt you vas, bard. A new teal, und led us hope dot it vill amoundt to somet’ing.”’ “We'll live in hopes. Buenos noches, baron. for the Land of Nod.” “Und me. Goot nighdt. our bards py Teep Nodch.” _ Silence followed. The baron mixed himself in a lot of dreams, from which he was aroused by a hand dropped over his open mouth, : “Vat’s dot?’ he sputtered from under the smothering nand. “Hist!” returned the Laramie man. Ventre snoring I’m off Do-morrow ve vill be mit like a house afire, baron, and I thought I’d better stop it until we know where we’re at. Some one’s coming. We'd better keep our eyes open until we find out what the owner of this wickiup is going to do about our being here. Listen !” A crufich of gravel was heard outside, accompanying 4 sound of voices. The door opened, and the steps and voices entered the room under the pards. | Fate had finished shuffling and was about to deal the _ cards for the first hand. “An account of the pernicious activities of Breathitt and Thompson was given in No. 475 of the Buffalo. Bill Stories, “Buffalo. Bill’s Diamond Hitch; or, Getting a Line on the Trouble Hunters.” Ce hee  to and ries, the THE BUFFALO CHAPTER If. THE BARON GETS EXCITED. “There’s a candle on the shelf, Thompson,” said a voice. “Light up. Breathitt, you hang onto the prisoner. If he tries to yell, use your hardware.” The pards in the loft gasped. Breathitt and Thomp- son! Were they dreaming? Could it be that the scoun- drelé, supposed to pe safely incarcerated in the Lone Star jail, were there in Dry Bone Gulch—in that very cabin, in fact? Looking between the. wide cracks, Wild Bill and the baron scarcely breathed as they waited and listened. A point of light appeared in the gloom below. It moved toward the shelf. “Guess agin, Chance,” grunted a husky but familiar s voice. “Thar ain't no candle hyer.” “That’s where I left it. I wonder if that little cub of a Scaps has come back here and done anything with the candle?” “What’s this hyer?” came another voice—a voice that was also familiar to theypards. ‘Blamed if it ain’t a can- dlestick on the floor.” “On the floor?” returned the man called Chance. “Then it must have dropped off the shelf. Find the candle, Breathitt, and let’s get it to going. We've got a lot to do, and not much time for doing it.” “Feah’s the candle,’ spoke up a fourth voice, a voice the pards had never heard before. “Come oveh heah, Tomp. It, wasn’t Scaps that bothered the candle. He’s gone to the Nugget ter sell ole Baldy—if he kin. That fool kid ain’t got no sense, none whatever.’ The gleam of the candle brought out a queer group in the room underneath the pards. There were Breathitt and Thompson—of this the light left no doubt—and a man in corduroys and a cap; also, - there was a miner, and a cowboy. The cowboy gad his hands lashed behind him. Breath- itt kept at his side, with an ugly six-shooter glimmering in his hand. The man in the corduroys was undeniably the person whom the pards had already encountered under the name of Boswell. Now he was called Chance. But then, names are merely things to conjure with—sometimes. — The astounding part of the proceedings, for the pards in the loft, had to do with the fact that Breathitt and © Thompson had been mysterjously delivered out of the hands of the law.’ : And who was the cowboy prisoner? He looked re- markably like a man named Rickner, whom the pards had met in the town of Hackaday, distant but a few miles from Lone Star. “Sit down, you!” ordered Boswell, or Chance, whirling on the prisoner. “What’s the meanin’ 0’ this?’ demanded Rickner. “That’s what I want to know, by thunder!’ I’m shackin’ peaceable inter Dry Bone when one o’ you junipers drops a rope Over me an’ snakes me off’n my hoss. What's the meanin’ o’ this rough house, anyways? An’ -what in _ blazes are Breathitt an’ Thompson doin’ here when they ought fo be in jail in Lone Star ?” Rickner was in a fume. If the matter stood as he stated it, certainly he had a right to his disturbed feelings. “Never you mind what Breathitt and Thompson are doing here,” said Chance. “As for yourself, no harm will come to you if you obey orders.” : @ SNS ic Hae ISO BILL STORIES. ‘“Who’re you, that I got to take orders from you?” “I’m Captain Chance—and you'll be taking a long chance if you don’t do as you’re told. Your name’s Rick- ner, I’m informed.” “Rickner, yes. I ain’t never had no cause to be ashamed of it. Jacob Rickner, of Hackaday.” “T’m also informed that you’re on your way.to Deep Notch with a loving cup for the self-styled king of scouts ?” “YVe’re shy a few. What I’ve got ain’t no loving cip, an’ the title ‘king of scouts’ wasn’t given to Buffalo Bill by himself. Others done it.” “What about this offering the people of Hackaday are making the scout?” ~ “That, I take it, ain’t any of your business,” replied Jacob Rickner. An ugly smile flickered across the face of Captain Chance. “I’m making it my business, nevertheless,” said he. “Tt’s a watch an’ chain he’s totin’,” spoke up Thompson. “Ever’body heerd about it in Lone Star, an’ the feller that had charge o’ the jail was tellin’ it ter me. Bekase Buffler Bill an’ his pards captered me an’ Breathitt, an’ landed us in the skookum house, the people livin’ in Hack- aday chipped in an’ bought the scout the watch. Rickner left Lone Star with the watch afore we dug out o’ the lockup, an’ Hi Chance cut in with a sneering laugh. “And the people of Hackaday are rewarding Buffalo Bill for something he did which has been undone,” he observed. “Rickner was intending to hand the scout a watch and chain, with the compliments of all Hackaday, and all the while Breathitt and Thompson are free as air. The case has its humorous aspect, to be sure.” And this Boswell, otherwise Captain Chance, was the man whom the scout and his pards had regarded as a person not worth bothering with! The pards in the loft were surprised at the nerve and resource Chance was showing. “You dug out o’ the jail?” queried Rickner, turning a questioning glance on Breathitt and Thompson. “That’s how we done it,’ guffawed Breathitt. “Chance, our ole pardner, had hosses waitin’ fer us. Knowin’ you was goin’ ter Deep Notch by way o’ Dry Bone, we laid fer ye, an’ ee : “T'll do the talking, Breathitt,’ put in Chance briskly. “Tomp, Jook through Rickner’s pockets.” ® Thompson executed a search, developing a square packet and a letter. Chance laid the packet on the table. The envelope was not sealed, and he drew the letter — out of it. “To Buffalo Bill,” he read, “ ‘the citizens of Hack- aday, recognizing the brave work of the king of scouts in running to earth the slayers of Jasper Lee, and regret- ting the fact that two of the scout’s pards were badly treated in’ Hackaday, desire to present this watch as a token of their appreciation.’ ” " Chance lowered himself on a stool, leaned against the table, and laughed softly. “The wheel of fate is turning,” said he, “and the num- ber that comes up is going to surprise the generous people of Hackaday, no less than that paragon of the frontier, Buffalo Bill.” Anger suddenly took the place of the sneering smile on Chance’s face. Jumping up from the stool he began walk- ing back and forth through the shadows of the room. Sake RNG ee ERISA ice AA OE RE TE Te eS en EE  ‘ | THE BUFFALO “Buffalo Bill,” he cried wrathfully, “thas crossed the trail of the Diamond Coterie twice; now the coterie will cross his trail and show him and his pards that we have fangs and know how to use them. The scout has jumped our game twice, and I have been laying back and waiting for a chance to play even. Now Captain Chance has his chance!” Whirling back to the table, Chance drew a small, oblong box from his pocket—a box with a sliding cover. “Rickner,’” he went on,/turning his crafty eyes in the cowboy’s direction, “I don’t suppose you know anything about the Diamond Coterie, or how Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill smashed the plans of the coterie in the town of Doo- little. Breathitt, Thompson, and myself. Sneed will soon be doing time, and Breathitt and Thompson would have been faring even more badly if they had not dug out of the Lone Star jail and found the horses I had made ready for them in the chaparral. We three are still at large, and to make sure that we remain at large, we have pre- pared a bit of a surprise for the king of scouts.” He raised the little, oblong box carefully. “There is dynamite in this box,” said he. “Opening the cover uncorks a phial of acid that sets off the charge. This beautiful little tribute which the people of Hackaday are sending to the scout’’—he touched the packet taken from Rickner’s pocket—“will be replaced with this other box. The letter will accompany the other box’’—a sar- donic look came with the words—‘and when Buffalo Bill tries to examine his token of esteem, something will prob- ably happen.” A roar of rage burst from Rickner. “You infernal scoundrels!” he cried. ‘You wouldn’t dare do sich a thing! You an’ your gang are a lot o’ yeller curs, but no low-down a Cork.” ‘Thompson threw himself on a hand over his mouth. “We are doing no more than we are warranted in doing,’ proceeded Captain Chance. “I understand that Buffalo Bill thinks that I am a mere figurehead in the co- terie, and that bothering with me is a waste of time. I have let him retain that impression. When the lightning strikes it will come out of a clear sky. But I have a head for planning, and before long there will be lively doings in Deep Notch. Burdick, here,’ and he waved a hand toward the miner, “is beholden to me. He will carry the little box and the letter from the citizens of Hackaday to the scout. There is not much risk for Burdick. As soon as he leaves the packet and the letter he will efface himself, Neither Deep Notch nor Dry Bone will know him any more. ‘Burdick, of course, is not his name. Nor is Chance mine. I shall go to Deep Notch to make sure of our work, and Breathitt and Thompson will go with me. You, Rickner, will be kept sequestered for a time, and then released.” Now all this villainy, mad in its conception and cold- blooded in the telling, worked fearsomely on the nerves of the pards in the loft. Wild Bill, his blood running hot, was fingering his weapons and figuring on the chances of an attack. Those below numbered four, but to take them by surprise would give an advantage not to be lightly considered. The baron’s excitement was less self-restrained thah the Laramie man’s. The infernal machine, and the way in which it was to be delivered to Buffalo Bill under the prisoner and clapped Ph RO i da Ag Na OR PR a Aa pnb daa sani SNe a are There were four in the coterie—Colonel Snead, Se Se See oo kee ean SRC eee pT RES ror toms at BILL | STORIES guise of a “token of appreciation,” had so worked upon the baron’s nerves that he was wild to be doing something to backcap the murderous scheme forthwith. Circumstances suggested caution to the pards. By a coincidence, fortune had brought Wild Bill and the baron to the very cabin which Chance was using as a rendezvous for the coterie. It was a weird coincidence, truly, yet a kindly blunder on the part of probabilities which was to be wisely used. | The baron wished to secure a bettes view of the men below, and changed his position by a foot or two. In his excitement he forgot the treacherous nature of the planks under him. While Wild Bill was still fingering his weapons and staring downward between two of the planks, one of them jumped upward, striking his forehead a violent blow. A broad gap of candlelight suddenly took the place oi the narrow crack, and a loud crash and a wild yell came from the baron as he landed on all fours on the floor below. The Laramie man grabbed at the plank, failed to lay hold of it, and rolled out of the loft—falling the ten feet between the rafters and the floor in a frantic scramble. CHAPTER tf. SCAPS AND “OLD BALDY.” Wild Bill remembered the tremendous commotion caused by the sudden drop on the part of himself and the baron from the loft; he even thought he remembered see- ing Chance running toward him through the dust, which had arisen“in clouds, and into which the candle gleam struck vaguely. But, after that, a great darkness obliter- ated the Laramie man’s senses, and when he opened his eyes it was to look hazily around into more darkness. Silence had-taken the place of tumult. The dust, through which the candle had shown inya dull glow, had vanished. Lying on his back, Wild Bill stared around him and then upward. Far overhead he saw a circular patch of sky sown with stars. “Well, by gorry!” he muttered, lifting a hand to his head. “Looks like I was out of one hole and into an- other. How did it happen? And—and—who put this bandage around my head?” . There was a bandage there, certainly. The circum- stance of the bandage, however, was but one of an army of bewildering circumstances, and the Laramie man’s intellect was not in a condition for keen reasoning. “Vild Pill!” called a dejected voice through the gloom. “The baron, too!” murmured Wild Bill. “Well, misery loves company, and I reckon I’m glad he’s here. If you know anything about this, baron, cut loose with it.” “Vat a drouple!” groaned the baron. “Aber it iss habbiness to know you peen alife, der same as me. Oot dot plank hat peen fasdt py der end, dis vouldn’t haf habbened. Py shiminy grickets, I peen so madt at dot plank I -don’d vas aple to see shdraight.” _ “Never mind the plank. You got on the wrong end of it and knocked us both out of the loft. What Followed after that ?” nd Janded on der floor, Vild Pill, und I t’ink you hit der site oof der faple.”’ ; “T was hit twice, then—first by the end of the plank and next by the side of the table. Go on.” 9 4 THE BUFFALO “Pefore you could say Chack Ropinson, eferypody in der room vas on dop oof me—oxcepting dot Rickner fel- ler. I vas a leedle hazy meinseluf, und dere vas modch talk, und a leedle feller come in during der talk, und he hat a cage e page Dae “Yah, so; mit a pird in der cage.’ _ “Are you positive you had your wits about you, baron ?” demanded Wild Bill. “Will you kiss the book that you saw a little fellow come into the cabin with a bird in a cage?” “I know vat I know, und dot’s all aboudt it. Der leedle feller vent fairst, cage und all; den Rickner ; den you, und ail “I reckon my mind is too feeble to think much about that,” hazarded Wild Bill. ‘Pretty soon you'll be telling me that some one rode into the cabin on an elephant, and Pil begin to have misgivings about your mind being just right. Where are we now? That’s the main point.” “Vell, dose fellers dook us oudt oof der gulch—you, und me, und Rickner, und der leedle feller. Der leedle feller vent fairst, cage und all; den Rickner; den you, und den me. I vas carried ofer der rocks like a pag oof meal, und pympy ve come py a-hole in der groundt—vich iss dis vone. I vas tied mit a rope und led down, und ven I got down, der rope vas tropped.” “Then it's a discovery shaft we're in.” “I take your vort for dot, only I peen mighdy sorry dose fellers disgovered it.” “It’s an abandoned mining shaft,’”’ proceeded the Lara- mie man, sitting up and holding his aching head, “and I should judge it’s thirty feet from top to bottom, sheer wall all the way.” “Anyvay, it’s teep enough to holdt us for a vile—for a long vile, I bed you, vile dose skullduggeries iss going on by Teep Nodch. Ach, I feel so pad ofer dot Teep Nodch pitzness dot I hate to shpeak aboudt it.” “Ah, yes,” muttered Wild Bill, “I am slowly grasping the run of events. We blunder into a cabin in the gulch and take possession; it happens that that cabin was being used by Boswell, otherwise Captain Chance, as a place to hatch his vengeful schemes against Buffalo Bill. Well, well! By gorry, pard, there’s something pretty queer about all that!” “Der kveerest part is aboudt Breathitt und T’ompson, py shinks! Dey haf got avay! All vat ve shtaidt for in Lone Shdar don’d amoundt to nodding.” “And to be kiboshed in the cabin, when so much de- pended on us! Pretty rough, baron. We’ve been holed away here so we can’t interfere with the schemes of Cap- tain Chance. That villain, Burdick, will go to Deep Notch with the letter and the little box for Pard Cody— and we won't be around to keep him from slipping the cover. This isn’t the first time an infernal machine has been handed to the scout—but he never got one before as a tribute from a grateful lot of townsmen like those in Hackaday. Who put this bandage on my head?” “Dot vas me, vile ve vas down here.” “I wish to blazes I had kept my fool wits! Was any- thing said when you were lowered to the bottom of the shaft and the rope thrown after you?” “Nodding, oxcept dot ve vas all to shday here ondil ve | vas foundt—vich vasn’t likely! Vat a lot oof sgoundrels! Oof I vas aple, I vould——” P Hey?? The hail came from the gloom on Wild Bill’s right. BILL STORIES. Here could be dimly discerned the dark opening of a level. “Hello!” answered Wild Bill. “Is that you, Rickner?” “I don’t know nobody name o’ Rickner. I’m Scaps. I been off in the level a-listenin’ to you fellers talk. I was let down fust, me an’ Baldy. Say, ain’t this rough? I'd never'd ‘a’ thought it o’ Burdick.” Wild Bill fumbled in his pocket for a match. Incident- ally he discovered that he had not been relieved of his revolvers. Chance and his men were generous—but it was a generosity that counted for little after burying their prisoners in the depths of the shaft. The lighted match enabled Wild Bill and the baron to take stock of their fellow prisoner, Scaps. He had the figure of a boy, but the»wizened face of a man of thirty or more. He was carrying a large cage, and something inside could be heard fluttering violently. “Well, Scaps,” said Wild Bill, as the match flickered and died out, “who are you?’ “Jest Scaps,’”’ was the indefinite answer. “Do you live in Dry Bone Gulch 2” “Since five year. Come in with the fust stampede.” “Did you live in the cabin where the recent unpleasant- ness occurred?” “Uh-huh. That’s my cabin.” “Who's Burdick ?” “Dunno much about Burdick. He’s been stayin’ at my cabin fer a month, diggin’ on the flats. He said when he -fust come that he only wanted a grubstake, but he’s dug out a dozen grubstakes sence then. I jest kinda let him stay.” “Do you do any digging yourself, Scaps ?” “Semi-occasionally. Sence pap died I ain’t felt much like it.” “When did your father take the one-way trail, Scaps?”’ “Jest arter we got nicely settled on the placering. Purty tough on me ter have pap go.’ Scaps snuffled dismally. “Only got ole Baldy lef? now. Jest me an’ Baldy, an’ look how we been treated. Low-down, measly way ter treat a feller artér I used Burdick white. They was goin’ ter keep Baldy when they lowered me down here, but I made a stir, | bet ye. Then they handed me the cage.” “Who's. Baldy?” . “Don’t ye know? Why, ever’body in the gulch knows Baldy. He’s my pet eagle.” It was clear enough to Wild Bill and the baron that Scaps was lacking mentally. To get information out of him required skillful questioning. “Scaps,” went on the Laramie man, “what do you know about Captain Chance?” “Burdick fetched him ter the cabin yesterday. Chance went away in the arternoon, an’ “long to’rds evenin’ Bur- dick told me thar was a stranger down the gulch as looked as if he might be fool enough ter buy anythin’. He told me ter go down an’ try an’ sell him Baldy. But I didn’t see no stranger. Went ter purty nigh ev’ry cabin in the gulch lookin’ fer a stranger, but it wasn’t no go. Then I piked fer home an’ got inter the cabin. There was a lot o’ noise there, an’ a lot 0’ people. I was grabbed, that’s what I was; an’ purty soon I was hustled ter this ole shaft. an’ dropped ter the bottom. What’s goin’ on, hey?” “A good deal is going on, Scaps,” said Wild Bill, ‘and we're all mixed up init. If you think so much of Baldy why do you want to sell him?” “I dunno: Keepin’ a eagle ain’t no picnic. Can’t tame Baldy, an’ he won’t stand fer pettin’. Thought mebby I THE BUFFALO better sell him an’ git him off’n my hands.” There came a hollow sound of approaching footsteps in the tunnel. “Oh, shucks!” exclaimed Scaps, “I was fergittin’ the other feller.” “Rickner ?” , “T reckon that’s his name. He was brought down arter me, an’ Burdick come with him an’ took off the rope. Rickner’s hands was tied, but I untied ’em.” “Hello, there!’ called Rickner, stepping out of the level. ‘“Here’s a fine Kittle o’ fish, ] must say. .I been explorin’, but there ain’t no way out of this pesky. place except the way we came down. We're in for it, and no _ mistake.” . “I’m not throwing my hand into the discard yet, Rick- ner,” said Wild Bill. “Sit down, amigo, and let’s con- sider.” CHAPTER IV. PRISONERS. ae four men seated themselves in the bottom of the shait. = “T reckon that we’re in a pretty tight corner,” said Wild Bill, “but we’ll pass up that phase of the quéstion for now, and reason together on the way we met up, and why. Rickner, we'll hear from you.” ; ‘I was sent from Hackaday to Lone Star to give you a watch the people of our town had bought for Buffalo Bill,” said Rickner, “but when I got to Lone Star you an’ Nomad had hiked. I made up my mind I’d overtake ye, or else I’d go plumb to Deep Notch.” “The baron and I were left in Lone Star to put our tes- timony against Breathitt and Thompson in black and white, and swear to it,’ explained Wild Bill. “Well,” went on Rickner, “I was told to hand the watch an’ the letter to you, an’ ask you to give ’em ter Buffalo Bill. Anyways, I rode on with the watch, plan- nin’ to spend the night in Dry Bone Gulch, when——’’ “When you got roped and brought to that wickiup,’ said the Laramie man. “We heard that.” “You could ’a’ knocked me down with a feather when I seen Breathitt an’ Thompson. They must have es- caped last night, an’ passed me on the road. I stayed out the night with a rancher friend, an’ Breathitt an’ Thomp- son got here.an’ hatched this scheme ag’inst me. I don’t know what those men were thinkin’ about at Lone Star ter let them two men get away.” “The jail there wasn’t any too sound,” said Wild Bill. “T seen dot meinseluf,’ put in the baron, “dere vas cracks in dot chail pigger as der cracks bedween der poards in der loft. I seen dot.” “You could ’a’ knocked me down with another feather,” pursued Rickner, “when I seen you two fellers drop out 0’ that loft. How was it ye come ter be up there?’ “A happenchance,” and Wild Bill told him. Rickner whistled. “T should say it was a happenchance,” said he, “one o’ the happenchances that’s pulled off about once in a hundred times. Derned if I aint’ stumped by the way this thing has worked out. That Cap’n Chance is a mur- derous whelp, if there ever was one.” “We know him—he used to call himself Boswell.’ “What he told me about this here U’emond Coterie is a fact?” “That was straight talk, Rickner. The coterie have BILL STORIES. run afoul of Buffalo Bill and pards twice, and got the worst of it each time.” . “This time, though,’ muttered Rickner, “they're plan- nin’ a dodge that makes my blood run cold, it does, fer a tact. The baron began to sputter. “Stow. it, baron,” said Wild Bill; “we’re at a point where we've got to do some good, hard headwork—and I’m in anything but good shape for that. It seemed to me as though I shut my eyes in that cabin one minute, an| opened them down here the next.. By gorry, but that was a quick shift!” “They brought that Scaps youngster first,” said Rick- ner, “an’ then me. One of the gang came down with each o’ us ter take off the rope. I moseyed back along the level, lookin’ fer a way out, an’ when Scaps got here he took the ropes off my: hands. You an’ the baron, Wild Bill, was brought down the same way.” “Did they leave you your guns?” asked the Laramie, man. “Nary; they atnexed my hardware when I was roped.” “Und I tropped mine oudt oof my pelt,’ put in the baron. “Mine hung to me,” went on Wild Bill, “and I reckon, in the excitement, they forgot to take ‘em. Of course, amigos, we were put down here to get us out of the way while they carried out that plan over to Deep Notch. We knew too much to be left at liberty.” “Dey vill keep us here ondil ve shdarve mit ourselufs,” growled the baron. “‘Dot’s der blan, I bed you.” “Do you know anything about this place, Scaps?’”’ Wild Bill inquired. “Feller thought he saw ‘float, ” answered Scaps, “so he sunk this here shaft an’ run the level. But it couldn’ have been ‘float’ from anywhere around here. Never found so much as a limestone stringer down here, the feller didn’t.” “Do you think, Scaps, that if we yelled, and I shot off my guns, we could attract the attention of any one in the gulch?” “Not in a thousand years! They couldn’t hear us in the gulch if we was to fire a cannon. An’ no one ever comes this-a-way—no one but me as long’s I’ve knowed the place.” “That puts it up to us to see what chance there is of getting out,” went on Wild Bill. “How long is that tun-. nel, Rickner ?” “Not more’n fifty feet.” “Any air shaft?” “Nary; jest a level with nothin’ but dead air in it.” Wild Bill got up and struck a match. A hopeful ex- clamation escaped his lips as he dropped the match. “Found somethin’ ?” queried Rickner. “The shaft’s been sunk in conglomerate,” answered the Laramie man. “It may be possible to dig out hand and footholds with our knives and work our way to the top.’ “Can't be possible! That Cap’n Chance must ’a’ been too shrewd. ter leave a loophole like that.” : “We'll see, anyhow,” said Wild Bill briskly. “I need 4 tonic to put me in my usual trim, and work’s the tonic. The baron and I have got to get to Deep Notch before fj Pard Cody opens that box of blow-up stuff. Chances 9 diabolical scheme has been so cleverly planned, that theres no way out for the scout—providing that infernal ma- @ chine is all Chance says it is., It’s up to the baron and | i€ rockeds oudt oof himseluf! . answered Wild Bill, THE BUFFALO me to get to Deep Notch and tell the scout about it. Here’s our first attempt to get clear.” Wild Bill, with his knife, began an attack on the side of the shaft. Hole by hole he dug his way upward, using a gouged-out place for his hand and another for his foot while he reached up and slashed out a third. So he mounted for ten feet, and then the point of his knife struck sparks. “Blocked!” he called down. “How iss dot?’ cried the baron, in a.spasm of dismay. “From here up the shaft is solid rock, hard as flint and smooth as glass. It would be easier to lift ourselves out by our bootstraps than to do any more pecking.” He dropped back to the-bottom of the shaft. “Chance knew what he was about, and no mistake,” he went on. “I'll bet a hundred against a summer breeze, amigos, that Chance had looked over this place as a hole for Rickner before the baron and I ever butted into the game.” “Ye can bank on it that he did,” averred Rickner. “He planned this hull scheme complete, and in a way that makes me catch my breath. It’s thirty feet from the bottom o’ the shaft to the top, if it’s an inch. It might as well be thirty miles.” “Vat a hardt luck!” mourned the baron. “Only tirty feet keeps us from nod ledding der sgout make some sky- How great iss der unhabbi- ness vat I feel!” “Tf you’ve got any firesticks, Rickner,” said Wild Bill, “get one to going.” Chance and his men had not relieved Rickner of his - matches, and while he lighted the bottom of the shaft with brief bits of fire, Wild Bill began an examination of the rope that had been used in lowering hith and his com- panions, and had been dropped down after the last man. The rope consisted of two twenty-five foot riatas spliced together. “Enough, lacking ten feet,’ mused the Laramie man, “to double the distance between us and freedom. We'll wait till morning, compadres, and see if daylight offers us any chance.” “What good’ll daylight do us down here?’ asked Rickner. “It will show us the top of the shaft,” said Wild Bill. “What good that does us, if any, remains to be discov- _ ered. I’m going to lie down in the tunnel and snatch the rest of my forty winks. I feel as though I needed it.’’ “I couldn't» shleep,” growled the baron, “for tinking ve vas so padly vanted in Teep Nodch.”’ “Losing sleep over what’s happening in Deep Notch,” from the darkness of the level, “won't help out Pard Cody any. Calm yourself, baron, and pay nature’s toll. You'll be better able to wrestle with this problem in the morning.” The baron made up hi§ mind that he would at least try to sleep, and eventually he succeeded. When he sat up on the hard earth of the level, several hours had passed and Wild Bill was ee to him from the bottom of the shaft. The Laramie man, Rickner, and Scaps were standing under the irregular circle of daylight, looking up, eagerly and speculatively, but not very hopefully. “Iss dere a vay oudt?” inquired the baron. “Well, 1£ we had wings, baron,’ answered Wild Bill, “we might get from here to the place we want to (80. But | we haven't the wings.’ BILL, STORIES.. “Vat iss dot t’ing agross der dop oof der hole?’ “That’s a timber,’ said Wild Bill, eymg the square timber that crossed the mouth of the shaft, running almost over its exact diameter. “It’s the remains, I should say, of the old platform on which the men who dug this shaft had mounted their windlass.” “IT remember that timber,” spoke up. Rickner. “The spliced riatas were lowered across it by Breathitt, Chance, Thompson made trips up an’ and that Burdick tin horn. down with us hombres.” “Look at the wall from ten feet up to the top of the shaft,’ proceeded Wild Bill. ‘Solid rock, just as I said last night, There’s no digging into it, no climbing it over rough bumps. Compadres, we ‘re in here to stay |” “I'd never ‘a’ thought it o’ Burdick!” murmured Scaps. “Himmelblitzen!” groaned the baron. “Und dere iss Toofer und Beeswax! Dey shouldt be shanged to more fodder.” “Hang the horses!”’ exclaimed Wild Bill. ones that ought to have fodder. added. ‘Yah, so,’ clamored the baron. “I peen so tirsty now dot my mout’ is full mit cotton; und so hungry, py shinks, I don’d know nodding.” He slumped down on the bottom of the shaft. “Vell, vell,” he finished, “I nefer vas in a vorse hole as dis.. Und vat iss to pecome oof Puffalo Pill?” Silence alone answered the baron’s question. “We're the And water, too,” he CHAPTER: V. BUFFALO BILL RECEIVES A PRESENT. Deep Notch was a valley, gouged far down in the San Leones. The valley was short, and narrow, and hemmed in by high walls. The walls were pierced by a sitigle outlet—the gap that gave the trail for Dry Bone its right of way. Day and night the ten-stamp gold mill filled the valley with its thunder—for ten eight-hundred-and-fifty- pound stamps, each dropping ninety -eight times to the minute, evolve a clamor that is tremendous. The noise, in this instance, was caught up and echoed and reéchoed be- tween the mountain walls. The mill, the blacksmith shop, the assayer’s office, the headquarters building, the derricks, the shaft houses, the , bunk houses and boarding house, ‘and the general store and the stables comfortably filled the sunken valley. All-day long men came and went among the dump piles, freighting, sharpening drills, ore hauling; and all night long lights glimmered in the shell of the mill and the stamps continued their ceaseless, pounding. The ore at Deep Notch was of the ‘free milling” sort, the stamps breaking it readily out of the ore. Hoagland, an old friend of the scout, was superintend- ent at Deep Notch. It was Hoagland who had invited the scout to the camp, and the scout had gone there to renew old acquaintance and not to carry out any partic- ular business. Old Nomad loafed and grumbled around the general store, while Little Cayuse sunned himself and thought stoically of more lively times in places where the white man was not scarring the face of Nature. Buffalo Bill was much with Hoagland; and when he was not with Hoagland, he was with Turck, the Deep Notch assayer.  8 : THE BUFFALO About ten o’clock in the forenoon of the day following the imprisonment of Wild Bill, the baron, and the rest in the abandoned shaft, the scout was in Turck’s office. . - Turck was retorting amalgam. Great balls of yellow metal, mixed with quicksilver just as it came from the mill pla_es, were placed in iron retorts and hermetically sealed except for a pipe running from the top of the re- tort. The retort, when placed over the furnace fires, was in such a position that the end of the pipe was in a bucket of water. The quicksilver, transformed into fumes by the action of fire, descended the pipe and was again transformed into quicksilver when reaching the water. Turck was a mighty entertaining man. He had seen the West from Alaska down,to Central America, and he had known the old heroes of the Alamo. He and the scout had many guide, trapper, scout, and pioneer friends in common, and it was on this common ground that they met. SES While they were talking, and the quicksilver was leak- ing into the pail, Jimmie Spink came down from the office. Jimmie was timekeeper, eighteen years old, and a devoted admirer of Buffalo Bill. “Been lookin’ for you everywhere, pard,’ said Jimmie. “A man rode up, an hour ago, with a package and a letter for you. Said he couldn’t stop, but that the letter would explain everythin’. Here it is, an’ likewise the package.” ‘Must be from Lone Star‘,”’ hazarded the scout. “Wild Bill and the baron are being kept there longer than they expected, I reckon.” He laid the package on his knees and looked at the address on the envelope. “No,” he went on, “it’s not from Wild Bill. I could pick his hand out of a thousand. My Laramie pard throws a fist that’s as hard to read as it is to forget. This is from some one else.” The scout pulled out the sheet and read. the letter. There was shadow, there in the furnace room of the as- sayer’s office, shadow broken by the dull glow of the fur- nace flames. In the golden light of the fire, Turck and Jimmie saw the scout’s face undergo a queer change. “Oh, blazes!” exclaimed the scout, “what did they want to go and do that for?” “Do what?” - The question came from Turck. Jimmie had an idea that something of a troublesome nature had happened, and that the king of scouts had received a hurry-up call to hike and straighten the matter out. “Read it for yourself,” laughed the scout, handing the letter to Turck. e “Well!” exclaimed Turck, “that shows what the people of Hackaday think of you, Cody, anyhow. You must stand pretty high in their esteem, I should say, when they go to the trouble to buy you a watch and then send a special messenger to deliver it.” “I appreciate their feelings, of course,” said the scout, “but I’ve got all the watches I can use. Toting keepsakes around the country is a bit out of my line, for when I trayel I’ve got to travel light.” “What is it?” queried the inquisitive Jimmie. “Let him read the letter, if he wants to, Turck,” grinned the scout. Jimmie was delighted. The gratitude of the people of Hackaday, as demonstrated by this offering, pointed to labors on the scout’s part which Jimmie would have liked to have recited for his especial benefit. t But Buffalo Bill was diffident. Rarely would he talk of the many deeds of valor in which he had become en- wm es BE en ap ht ne nt panies Sg sn Peseta ean saint BIEL STORIES tangled. All: Jimmie learned he got from old Nomad; and old Nomad was a fine chronicler—even if he did use a good deal of imagination. Jimmie excused himself. Just then he had an hour which he did not know what to do with, so he went on a hunt for old Nomad, to find out what the scout and his pards had done in Hackaday. “Why don’t you look at the watch, Cody?” asked Turck. The scout was studying the oblong package on his knee. “Plenty of time for that, Turck,” said the scout. “You were telling me about Pauline Weaver. Now, when | first met Weaver, he “Quit!” cut in Turck, “I’m as interested in that watch as a schoolgirl is in her first love letter. - I'll not go on palavering about Pauline Weaver till we see what sort of a timepiece your admirers have presented you with. Here, give it tome. Ill open it if you won't.” The scout laughed and picked ‘up the package. The paper that covered it was badly soiled and crumpled, and the address was written by the same hand that had ad- dressed the envelope of the letter. Just as he was about to remove the string, the iron re- tort tumbled sidewise in the furnace, loosening the soaped cover and permitting a cloud of vapor to escape. “Look out, Cody; look out!” whooped Turck. The scout moved instantly to get away from the floating vapor. Quicksilver, in that form, is filled with salivating properties, and the scout had no desire to lose his teeth. Stuffing the package into his coat. pocket; he cautiously assisted Turck in putting the cover back on the retort, each of them using a long poker. When the retort was finally in place, both men dropped back on their chairs. : “The last assayer Hodgland had here,” observed Turck, “got badly salivated. The stuff is muy malo. What was it you did at Hackaday?” “Nothing that demanded the tribute of a watch,” the scout answered. “Something went wrong with your pards in Hackaday, didn’t there?” “I should say so! I reckon the Hackaday folks are so full of regret about that that they are trying to square themselves with the watch. If that’s the case, then the watch ought to go to old Nomad, the baron, and Cayuse. for they stood the brunt of the misunderstanding.” “What sort of a misunderstanding ?” “The three went into Hackaday to wait for Hickok and me to join them- A murder and a robbery happened, and circumstantial evidence rather laid the double crime at the door of my three pards. That caused the trouble.” “But, surely, the very fact that the three were your pards ought to have cleared them?” __ Of course; but, you see, the Hackaday people had the idea that Nomad, the baron, and Cayuse weren’t my pards at all, but were merely pretending to be. Fortunately, Hickok and I reached Hackaday in time, to settle the matter.” : “Now go for the package,” said Turck. ‘“Let’s look at the timepiece and see how ——” Just at that moment Turck moved his chair. One of the pokers lay against the chair and the bucket of water into which the quicksilver was filtering. The bucket was overturned on the earthen floor, and a quart of “quick” rolled around in little drops, , “Thunderation!’ cried Turck. “I’m having the tough- est kind of luck with this bunch of amalgam.”  1g oO iS Ree He scooped up the quicksilver as well as he could and dumped it into a porcelain pan. ‘Then, after he had got a. fresh pail of water, he observed that no more fumes were coming from the pipe. “The “quick’s’ all out,’ he announced. This called for something else. Picking up a pair of heavy tongs, he lifted the hot retort from the furnace and lowered it to the floor; then, knocking ‘eff the cover, he allowed six yellow balls of glowing gold to jroll out on the floor to cool. oo “Tl not refine *em and run ’em into bars until they’re cool enough to handle,” said he, “so I reckon we can at last open up that package and look at the-———” Just at that moment Jimmie reappeared. % “The boss wants you, Buffalo Bill,” he announced, “and on the jump.” ‘ “Oh, snakes!” exclaimed Turck. “I’m doomed not to be one of the first to get a look at that watch.” — The scout had already started for the door, but he turned, with a laugh. : “I'll see that you are-one of the first to clap eyes on the timepiece, Turck,” he answered. ‘I'l not open the package until I come back here. Great Scott, but you’re a -curious sort of an hombre?’ “I wonder that you’re not curious, too. . But mind that you come back here with the package unopened.” CHAPTER: VI. FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM. “There’s no use being in a taking,” said Wild Bill, to -his fellow prisoners in the shaft; “that’s not going to help Pard Cody’s case any, nor our own. We're all getting so sorry that it’s sapping our ginger. Let’s press the other button. Believe me, amigos, it will be better.” “Vat’s der good how many oof dose puttons ve bress, hey?” demanded the baron, resenting the very idea of hope and cheerfulness. “Oof ye got to tie, Vild Pill, den led us look der siddivation righdt in der face ondil der end,”’ : o “Croaker! Shut up, baron. You've got Scaps to snuf-' ing.” “It ain’t that I’m afraid/ter cash in,’ whimpered Scaps, “but who'll take keer 0’ Baldy when I’m gone?” “Son,” returned Wild Bill, “I don’t think Baldy will last much longer down here than any of the rest of us——” f “I didn’t think o’ that,” brightened Scaps, i. weak in- tellect catching the light at a new angle. “But it’s a manly thing,” went on Wild Bill, “never to say die. I’m surprised at the baron. Have you got any- thing to suggest, Rickner ?” ao “T’'d suggest that we make a big noise,’ answered the cowboy. “’Twon’t do no good,” averred Scaps gloomily. “There ain't er soul ter hear any noise.” “Well, s’pose we try,” persisted Rickner. “Our chances - seem to be slim, anyway, and we might as well use our voices afore we lose our strength on account o’ hunger.” ‘The baron groaned, then jumped up frantically. “Led us yell like anyding!” he shouted. “Choin in mit | mie, bards!” - A bedlam of yells resounded in the bottom of the shaft. How far that aggregate of individual noises carried, none of the makers of it could even guess; but there in the THE BUFFALO BIEL STORIES 9 bottom of the hole the echoes almost split their ears. Wild Bill shook all the loads out of one of his revolvers at intervals, punctuating the clamor. é When they were all out of breath, they dropped down and waited, hoping against hope. No friendly head was interposed between their straining eyes and the mocking fairness of the sky, no voice from the pit’s rim answered « their hail. “No go, amigos,’ muttered Wild Bill, “I told ye, I-told ye!’ chirped Scaps, in a sort of mor- bid satisfaction. ‘I reckon Scaps is right,’ commmented Rickner. “We could. shoot off a broadside o’ cannon.down here, an’ the sound wouldn’t kerry over the aidge o’ Dry Bone Gulch.” ‘“Anyvay led’s try it again,’ begged the baron. “Vild Pill say dot ve must do somet’ing, und dere iss nodding else vat ve can.do.” ‘ “I thought, baron,” laughed the Laramie man grimly, “that you. were for lying down and going quietly ?” “Somedimes I feel like dot, und den somedimes again I feel like fighding harder as Sam Hill for freetom.” The baron began to yell and the others helped him. Wild Bill did not shoot the loads out of his remaining weapon. It was the only gun in the crowd and might be needed—but for what the Laramie man could not hazard a guess. Again was there a long pause, and again disappoint- ment. ° ae “Tstold ye, 1 told ye,’ croaked Scaps. “I know this place better’n you.” “Anything else to suggest, Rickner ?” queried Wild Bill. “Nothin’ but more noise. Might as well wear ourselves out that-a-way as ter starve ter death.” The baron heaved another groan. Every mention of food or water merely redoubled his hunger and his thirst. Strange how plenty of anything solaces the mind with a lack of desire for that thing; and, on the other hand, how lack of a thing tortures the mind with a desire for plenty. “I alretty feel like I vas gedding veak,’’ quavered the baron. “Vat a fillain dot Shance feller iss! Und der poor sgout! Iss he plown oop yet, I don’d know? Vat you tink?” “T don’t want to think about ‘that at all,’ answered Wild Bill gruffly. ‘“Here’s something else, Rickner, if you want | tortry it” 3 7 Everybody was enthused. “What is it, Wild Bill?” asked Rickner eagerly. “You're pretty good at throwing a rope?” “Fair to middlin’.” : “Well, ‘there are fifty feet. of rope here and only a thirty-foot throw to make. Go.ahead and try your hand.” The cowboy was consumed with doubts. “This cast is some diffrent from swingin’ a noose around your head an’ lettin’ it fly at a steer, alongside or ahead 0’ you.” : “Sure it's different.” “It’s an up-an’-down throw with no space to work in. This here shaft ain’t more’n six feet acrost. What sort 0’ leverage for a straight-up throw can I get with only six feet to start from?” : “That’s your problem, Rickner. I only suggest the rope because, as you're a cowboy, you ought tobe up to some new wrinkles in lassoing.’”” “Well, I ain’t—not wrinkles that'll do a-trick o’ that sort. Then, too, what’s the rope to ketch on? The rim . NE Rsv susan cat Petpet erat Renae giercoiemile A rece Hiseeisiaeatoestemrer tai irae aarti totehers t \ ft 1 ip 4  v THE BUFFALO is as smooth as the edge of a tin plate. What am I to rope?” “T hoped you might figure out some way to get the rope over that cross-timber,” said Wild Bill. “With both ends o’ the timber on the hard ground! When you rope a thing, Wild Bill, you got to have an end you can get over.” Nevertheless, in spite of his objections, Rickner coiled the spliced riatas in his hand. Swinging several coils as well as he could, he shot them upward. The noose went up for twenty-five feet before it grew tired and fell back most of it into the baron’s upturned face. “Tt don’d vas any good,” grumbled the baron, ‘‘so vat’s der use?’ Wild Bill found a stone broken from the side of the shaft of the level. “What're you goin’ ter do with that?’ demanded Rickner. ; “Perhaps nothing that amounts to anything,” answered the Laramie man, “but anything is worth trying.” He knelt and pulled the noose tightly around the stone, then coiled the rope on the shaft’s bottom so that it would uncoil readily. “Get into the level, all of you,” he ordered. “I’m going to try to throw this stone over the timber. I don’t flatter myself that I'll succeed the first time, or the second, or the hundredth, but I’m going to try just to keep myself busy. When the stone goes up, it will have to come down. _ If you ombrays are out of the way it won’t come down on you,”’ Rickner, the baron, and Scaps scrambled into the tun- nel; then Wild Bill hurled the stone upward and himself rushed into the level. But the stone had to be heavy in order to carry the trailing rope. Of course, the heavier the stone the harder it was to heave. And then, the rope hampered it. The higher the stone went the heavier became the increasing length of rope. The weight fell back with a crash. “I reckon it’s fool business, all right,’ said Wild Bill. “When you come to plumb the difficulties, they're a heap toomany. Even if I could get the stone up above that tim- ber, how am I to make it curve over the top. of the timber and drop on the other side?” “T’row a curve ball!” suggested the baron. “You can’t throw curve balls in a well, baron,” said Wild Bill. need me tryata viel? The baron stepped back into the shaft, picked up the weighted rope, and threw upward. At a height of ten or twelve feet the stone hit the side of the shaft and fell back. The baron, watching the stone as well as he could in the dark, forget to duck into the tunnel. Just how near the stone came to his head in its backward’ fall he did not know, but he declared that he felt the wind of it. “Dot’s a plendy fer der baron!” he declared. “I don’d fool mit nodding like dot. It vould take me oudt oof my misery pooty kevick, aber how kveer it iss dot fellers hang on so hardt efen to misery.” “I wish we had a candle!” murmured Wild Bill, “Und so do I vish dot! Oof ve hat a candle I vould eat id. Ach, vat a goneness dere iss in my shtomach!” “Td like to go through that tunnel with a light,” went on Wild Bill. “As I have only matches, I will do what I can with them.” “T’ve been through it myself, Wild Bill,” said Rickner ¥ 2 ch yaa Hay Rie ia eae a SA EL ors ce lk OM Sharla i aaaae eae sh hi AN Peete cei Lei ieas PERE Nl ot eh ttn int Sen aN a f BIEL. STORIES. discouragingly, “and I tell you it ain’t no use. The level runs inter a dead wall.” “T’m going to see for myself.” The Laramie man looked for himself, and spent a full hour in the survey. When he returned to his companions he was of a mind with Rickner. The tunnel offered no chance of a way out. : “Ve’re done for, hey?” asked the baron. “So far as the tunnel is concerned, baron,” replied Wild Bill. “Und so far as der shaft is goncerned, too. Ve’re pot- tled oop. Dere iss no cork in der pottle, but vat’s der odds aboudt der tifference?” “Wile there’s life there’s hope,” returned the Laramie man, ‘and while there’s no cork in the bottle there’s a chance for the contents to spill out.” “Yah, you bed my life, ve vould shpill oudt kevick enough oof somepody vould only durn dis pottle oopsite down. But Wild Bill gave a sudden yell. “What's the matter with ye?” asked Rickner, alarmed. “T vonder has our fix gone py his headt?” cried the baron. “Vild Pill! Vas you in your righdt mindt?” “I hope so,” replied the Laramie man. “An idea just struck me with so much force that I had to let off a whoop.” -“An idea fer what?” “Why, for getting out of here! The recent oblivio: through which I passed must have dulled my wits, or I'd have thought of it before.” : “What is it?” came from all of them. “Wait till I think it over and get a firm grasp on the details,” answered Wild Bill, leaning back against the wall and relapsing into silence. CHAPTER. VII. FENCING WITH FATE, Hoagland was tilted back in a chair in the shade of the office building when the scout approached in answer to his summons. “What's wanted, Amos?” the scout inquired. “Jimmie was telling me, Bill, that that fellow who came ce me a package and letter for you belongs in Hack- aday! “I don’t know whether he belongs there or not, but he brought a message from there.” . _ A message and a watch,” said Hoagland, with a broad smile. “A testimonial of the high regard in which the people of Hackaday hold the king of scouts,” “Let's talk about old times,” suggested the scout. “I want to see that watch.” “Is that why you sent for me?” “That's all. Do you think, for a minute, I haven’t any curiosity?” Buffalo Bill drew the package from his pocket. “What!” exclaimed Hoagland, “you don’t mean to say you haven’t opened it yet?” “That's what I mean to say, Amos.” “What ails the man! Aren’t you anxious to look at the token of esteem which an admiring populace . _ “Well, yes. Of course I appreciate all that the admir- ing populace have seen fit to do for me, but the fact is, Amos, I haven’t had a chance to open the package yet.”  Cb VE ee THE BUFFALO “How so?” “Why, every time I get ready to untie the string some- thing happens to keep me from it. Down there in the as- sayer’s office a retort of amalgam tipped over, and then the bucket with the quicksilver, and then you sent Jimmie tor me, : “Suppose we cut short the agony and look at it now?” suggested Hoagland. The scout handed the package to the super. _ “Pm going over to the tank for a drink,” said he. “You open it up while I’m gone.” “You’ve got more command over yourself than I’d ever have,” said Hoagland, taking the package and. beginning to pick at the knotted string. The scout laughed and strolled around the end of the office building and towardethe chuck shanty. A spring welleup on the mountainside furnished water for the mill and the living necessities of the camp. This was piped into the valley, and some of it emptied into a round tank near the camp kitchen. The scout helped himself to a drink. ‘While he was _ drinking, old Nomad hustled toward him from the direc- tion of the camp store. “What’s this Jimmié has been tellin’ me, pard?” asked the old trapper, when he came close. “I reckon, Jimmie has been telling you a number of things, Nick,’ said the scout. ‘What particular thing do you reter to?’ “Why; ter a paper talk an’ a package what was brought fer ye fray Hackaday? Jimmie says ther watch is studded with dimings, an’ thet et strikes ther hours an’ ther half hours on a leetle gong, an’ has a stop attach- ment fer timin’ a hoss race, an’ 3 “Jimmie has been stringing you, old pard,” laughed the scout. “I reckon he’s been getting’even for some of the stories you’ve been telling him.” “Wasn't et er watch at all?” “I reckon it is; but I haven't seen it yet. Hoagland has it at the office, and is going to open it. I was thirsty and came for a drink.” “Waugh! Thet’s you, all right. Ye ain’t any curioser than what a wooden Injun is. Le’s go back ter the office an’ hev a look,” Together they proceeded to the office, but Hoagland was not in the chair in which the scout had left him. Nor was he in the office. _ “I reckon Amos has run away ‘with that diamond- studded repeater,” laughed the scout, sitting down and fanning himself with his hat. “I been sayin’ all erlong thet them thar Hackaday peo- ple ort ter do somethin’ for ye, Buffler.” “Bosh! If they did anything. for anybody it ought to have been for you, and the baron, and Little Cayuse. You had a harder time in Hackaday than Hickok or I had.” “Mebbyso ye’re right erbout thet. Whar d’ye s’pose Hoagland went?” Give i007 “Waal, hyar’s somethin’ else, Buffler, I reckon ye won’t chev ter give up: How long aire we goin’ ter rusticate in this hole in the mountings ?” “T’m enjoying my stay here, pard, and I haven’t made up my mind yet when I’d tear myself away.” “Et’s plumb hard on thér narves, this hyar loafin’ eround an’ doin’ nothin’ but eat an’ sleep an’ palaver at the gen’ral store.” estate edt het ne nihil teltvatlph atin ihrer ores eidina in Ctimustouiminshaiir beh ed Rin deca et an aaa a aoa Aion cme wa ais wok tay ber nic tte” reten fc iM reap pu toner ate Mao ntins Syrcsak barb aut ite taste nes phe TT renee Pts ier elite fener et etre cr Uh atin il ties onder eke slab ch LS i a Ne eas , ; BILL: STORIES. Tr “We can’t pull out, Nick, until Wild Bill and the baron get fere, 7 A ; “They ort ter be hyar now. They wasn’t ter stay in Lone Star, thet lawyer. sharp said, more’n two days.” “Did you see the man who brought that package and - the letter, Nick?” asked the scout. “Nary. Jimmie an’ Hoagland was the fellers thet seen him.” “I wonder why he didn’t stay to give the letter and the package to me himself?” ~ “Pass ther ante. Jimmie-allowed he was in some sort of a hurry.” “He was a pretty sort of a messenger to bring a token of esteem like that! He might at least have waited to say howdy. I'd like to have talked with him a little.” “What about, Buffler?’~ “Why, about what’s going on in Lone Star. He could have given us news of our pards.” “Thet’s er fact. Ah, ha! Hyar comes Hoagland, now.” The super, carrying the package in his hand, came hastily around the end of the office building. “Well, Amos,” laughed the scout, “you’re a long while getting a look at my watch.” “That's right,’ grinned Hoagland. “You see, Bill, just as I was on the point of doing the trick, a miner came from the blacksmith shop and wanted some bar iron for drills. I had to go over to the storehouse with him. But now, I reckon, we’re ready.” f “T reckon not.” Leaning over, the scout took the package from Hoag- land’s hand and pushed it into his pocket. “Taken another veer, have you?’ laughed the super. “Not at all. I just happened to think of something.” “Whats” “Why, that I promised Turck not to tamper with this package until he could be in at the opening.” “That's a lot of foolishness, it seems to me,-over a small package like that.” “That’s how it'seems to me.” The scout caught sight of Little Cayuse strolling to- ward the mill. He had now fooled around with. the open- ing of the package for so long that he was prompted to have the trifling matter settled forthwith. “Cayuse!” called the scout. The little Piute turned in answer to the call and cam hurriedly to the office. “Take this to Turck, the assayer,”’ said the scout, “and f tell him to open it, and send what’s inside to me—after he has seen all he wants to of it, of course.” “Ai,” nodded Cayuse, taking the package as it came once more from the scout’s pocket. “An’ mind ye hurry back, Cayuse!” shouted the old trapper after the lad. : “Nomad thinks we ought to be traveling, Amos,” said the scout, shifting the subject. “Traveling?” shouted the super. “No, you don’t! Why, man, I’m going to keep you here for a month.” “Ef ye keep me hyar fer a month,” said the trapper, “yell keep me continual. A month o’ them poundin’ stamps, an’ nothin’ doin’, would see me planted. Either somethin’ hes got ter happen, Hoagland, er else ’'m goin’ ter cut loose from Buffler an’ pull out on my own hook. Thet shot goes as et lays.” serine ni eae in trent tes tt etches hatcheries { i } | |  12 THE BUFFALO “We'll try and have something happen for your espe- cial benefit, Nick,” returned Hoagland. “Hyar’s Cayuse, pigeon toein’ on ther back track,’ an- nounced the trapper. “Blamed ef thet thar package is _ Opened yit.” This seemed to be the case, for the Piute was carrying the little parcel in his hand. “No find um,” he reported. “Wasn't he in his office?” asked the scout. “‘Nah, Pa-e-has-ka.” “Probably he’s in the ore loft at the mill,” suggested Hoagland, “taking samples of the morning’s run of ore. But what’s the use.of waiting for Turck?” “T’m beginning to get tired of this,’ said the scout, taking the package, “‘and I’m going to pocket the thing for the tenth time. I’ve a notion to keep the thing there until the excitement dies down.” Hoagland heaved a long sigh of resignation? “I reckon T’ll have to smother my curiosity and put clamps on the tenterhooks,” he remarked. “Coming back to the subject of your leaving Deep Notch, Nomad,” he added, “I think you’ll have to stay here until the baron and Wild Bill arrive, anyhow.” “Probily,” agreed’ the trapper fretiully, “but Tm blamed ef I kin savvy what keeps them at Lone Star. I got half a notion ter hit ther trail fer Dry Bone an’ see ef I kain’t meet up with them.” “Go on, if you want to, Nick,” said the scout, “but it will be time thrown away.” “We're throwin’ et erway hyar in Deep Notch, Buffler.” Just then Hoagland pointed toward the assayer’s office. Looking in that direction, the scout, Nomad, and Cayuse saw Turck hustling in their direction. ' “Tt won't be long now,” said the super, ‘before we can see for ourselves what sort ofa token the Hackaday peo- ple sent to the king of scouts. But it has been a long wait.” CHAPTER VIII. OLD BALDY IS SACRIFICED. Wild Bill was so long settling the details of his plan that the baron began to get nervous. “Vat's der use oof hanging fire like dot, Vild Pill?” asked the Dutchman. ‘“Shpeak id oudt, anyvay. Meppy ve could helup mit vat you got on your mindt. Dree heads. is viser as vone, ain’d id?” “It is,” said Wild Bill. “Scaps,” and here he turned to the half-witted youth, “how much do you ask for old Baldy ?” “Ain’t asked,” replied Scaps. “I was plannin’ ter take all I could git.” “Is twenty dollars a fair price?’ “That’s a heap more’n I expected.” Wild Bill was out of matches, but Rickner obligingly BIL STORIES, lighted one for him while he pulled some gold from his pocket and put it in Scaps’ hand. “There you are,” said he, “and old Baldy’s mine.” ‘I’m gittin’ the best 0’ ye,” cried Scaps. “That’s my lookout, not yours.” “But what good’ll the twenty dollars do me, er ole Baldy do you, if we ain’t never goin’ ter git out 0’ this holge: “We're goin’ to make a hard effort to get out, Scaps,” said Wild Bill, “and the eagle is going to help.” Rickner gave vent to a jubilant shout. “I’m beginnin’ ter savvy,’ he exclaimed. “TDot’s more as me, den,” said the baron. “How iss olt Paldy going to helup us oudt oof der shaft?” “I’m going to see if he can’t help us out, but I’m not sure that he’ll be able to. Help me, Rickner. The baron will hold the cage while you take Baldy out.” “He'll tear yer hand off, shore!” protested Scaps. “Them talons o’ his, an’ that there beak, are wussn knives. I know, bekase I’ve felt ’em,” “Tt might be a good plan, Rickner,” said Wild Bill, “to wrap a handkerchief around each hand. Here’s mine.” Rickner swathed his hands in such a manner, that the movements of his fingers would not be interfered with. To fumble with the bird and let it get away after it was ~ removed from the cage would have put a@spoke in the Laramie man’s plan, right at the start off. Scaps steadied the cage while Rickner opened the door. The baron, palpitating with excitement, lighted the scene with matches. Baldy, perhaps forewarned of what was in store for him, fought viciously against being removed from the cage. Rickner, grabbing him by the feet, pulled him out by main force. The eagle was a magnificent birl—one of the largest Wild Bill had ever seen—and he fought like a demon. His great wings thrashed the air, his talons worked con- vulsively, and he made desperate lunges with his beak at | Rickner’s face and eyes. “Hustle with your doin’s,” urged Rickner; “I can’t hang on to him very long.” | “Let me get at one of his feet,” said Wild Bill, opening up the bight of the riata noose and threading out the end of the rope. Rickner shifted one of his hands a little, and the Lar- amie man dexterously secured the end of the rope to Baldy’s leg. “I reckon that'll hold,” remarked Wild Bill. “Give the bird a toss upward, Rickner.” The cowboy threw the bird aloft. The huge wings fanned the air and Baldy mounted up and up, the rope paying out as he ascended. “Hoop-a-la!” gloried the baron, at last catching his Laramie pard’s idea, “dot’s der shlickest t’ing vat I efer heardt aboudt. Vat a luck dot dose sgoundrels let Scaps  oe DUVET ALO BILE: SVORIES. 1s pring der eagle down mit him indo der olt mine! But for | When the end of the rope was reached, Wild Bill clung der eagle, und but for der rope vich vas tropped, ve vould _ to it, the dead eagle swaying in the gloom above his head. haf peen in dis blace to shday.” “That's the first time I ever seen anything like that “Don’t get to jubilating too soon, baron,’ warned Wild done,” murmured Rickner, “and it’s great!” Bill. ‘We're not on the surface yet, by a long shot. “T don’t like to have Baldy killed,” snuffled Scaps. “I I dle Chances have been going against us, and it may be too wouldn’t ’a’ sold him if I'd ’a’ knowed what you was ' | LIS much to hope that luck will change for us now. But we'll goin’ to do.” : : do our best.” “Don’d talk sooch foolishness!’ cried the baron. “You > The rope hung heavy on the eagle, but still the huge don’d mean dot, Scaps. Id vas der eagle’s life, or our wings toiled up the airy ascent. The fluttering body of lifes, py shinks. Vat petter could a pird do as helup some | the bird hung between the imprisoned men.and the day- human beings oudt oof a hole like dis?” Pao light for what seemed like an unconscionably long time. “We're not out of the hole yet, pard,” said Wild Bill, Ht Perhaps the time was not so long, but was seemingly ~J’] have to climb up the side of the shaft, get Baldy off lengthened by the tension of the-moment. the rope and tie a slipknot. Rickner, you hold this end, | ot For a few seconds it appeared as though the rope drag and hold it tight.” ) \ oe would prevent the eagle from gaining the timber that “That’s me!” returned the overjoyed Ricker crossed the mouth of the shaft. He came on a level with Already the cowboy was willing to bank on the Laramie 2 the timber, fell back, arose to it again, and finally landed. 44’, Hilti Gieeone : o oe oes aay ee Pee i Wild Bill began scaling the wall of the shaft. When ; He iss on der roost!’ he muttered breathlessly. “Und a To ena eee ke fh a aoe a¢ had reached the topmost notch, just under the smoo | rocks that faced the upper part of the shaft, he was a “We're a long way, from success yet, baron,” returned jiti1e above the swinging form of the dead eagle, : Wild Bill. “Tve got to make a jump of it, pards!” he called down. h. All eyes were lifted toward the daylight and fixed upon “Took a leedle oudt, Vild Pill,” catitioned the baron. 1S Baldy. He seemed content to sit on the timber and rest. “I'll do my best, you can bet your spurs on that, but - “The pint, as I size it up,” said Rickner, “is to get I’ve got to grab both those ropes on the fly—and hang to the rope over the timber, The end tied to Baldy is the end ‘em! If I catch only one, I’ll come down by the run, r that has to come down to us.” Here goes!’ : “That's the point,” answered Wild Bill, Wild Bill, "tio more than an animated shadow to those “I can’t figure out how it’s to be done.” under him, was geen to leave his treacherous support at : a boa figure cite noe it can be done if Baldy only the shaft side and fly toward the middle of the shaft. en det Tighe : The rope was violently shaken. One of the strands : Gently the Laramie man shook the rope, communicat- tat engaged the timber began to slip. It was the strand | ing to it a motion which tugged at the’eagle’s foot. Baldy 4. nich Rickner was holding, and he threw his whole didn’t like the tugging and began to peck at the knot Wild Bill had tied. “That won’t do,” muttered Wild Bill. “The first thing we know, the rope will be back down here and Baldy will be flying over the San Leones.” He gave a harder pull at the rope. Baldy was almost drawn off the timber. There was a tremendous fluttering weight on it-and held it steady. “All-righdt, Vild Pill?’ called the baron. “T won out by a scratch,’ answered the Laramie man. “Look out for Baldy!” The dead bird was cut loose and dropped. Wild Bill had to. twine the fingers of one hand about both halves of the rope and work with the other hand. ei . ff : : Hb . i i 1 - Wings to regain his balance, and he left the timber and To get a slipknot that would hold securely in the end struggled across the gap between it and the tim OL ie oo aioe by the eagle was a labor of infinite difficulty, ae ce ee the rim and ae - the extreme working as the Laramie man had to work. 4 p t f S ; : 5 : oo Ce oe ee ee : oe He accomplished it, however, released the slipknot, and Now, vat iss der nexdt moof? : ; came down with a run. The words were scarcely out of the baron’s mouth e ib : : : aa g . when Wild Bill’s revolver spoke ee Poor Baldy, Hooray!” roared Rickner, catching Wild Bill in his arms as he descended. | S very lives—of the four in the shaft was stricken o a “It's pretty near time for rejoicing,” panted WildgBill. 2 vital place. He tottered on the rim. Mercifully, the “Let’s hope that the knot I made will hold fast. If it Laramie man fired another shot; then the magnificent doesn’t, some one of us is going to take a tumble.’ 5 bird, but the moment before animated with vigorous life, Hand over hand Wild Bill drew in the rope, and the r dropped downward lifeless, thé weight of its body draw- knot slipped upward steadily, closing around the timber ; ing the rope through Wild Bill’s hands. ‘in a narrowing loop. Aipdcblek cake aise sys mest tA Sighs etalk cea et  TA ‘ THE BUFFALO At last the knot was snugly tightened against the tim- ber apd Hickok tried its strength by hanging to the rope. “There you are, amigos!” he shouted. “Who’s to be the first up?” _ “T bed you,” answered the baron, stricken with sudden misgivings, “dot I couldn’t glimb so mooch as haluf vay > oop.” “Then Rickner and I will go first, baron,” said Wild Bill, “and snake you and Scaps out of the shaft. Ill be first to mount, Rickner,” he added,-and began ‘climbing. The knot held, and Wild Bill, in a few minutes, swung himself to the timber and sat there while he recovered his breath. . “Come on, Rickner,” he called presently, slipping along the timber to the rim of the shaft’s opening. CHAPTER Ix. IN THE OPEN CUT. Turck, as it chanced, had anything but the scout’s pack- age on his mind, “Here’s a go, Amos!” he shouted to Hoagland, drawing to a breathless halt in front of the super. “What sort of a go?” asked Hoagland. “Why, that greaser that worked for me, Salvador, has hit the high places with my riding horse!’ “Has he gone to stay?” : ‘He was heading for the Mexican line, at last ac- counts.” This looked like excitement. “There, Nomad,” said Hoagland, turning to the old trapper, “you wanted something to happen. Here it is.” “Chasin’.a greaser hoss thief!” grumbled Nomad. “Waal, et’s somethin’. Goin’ erlong, Buffer?” “How many do you think you need, pard, to lay one greaser horse thief by the heels?” inquired the scout. Nomad grinned. ' “Ye see, I didn’t want ter corral all ther excitement. ‘I reckon Turck an’ me’ll be enough. Klat-a-way, Turck! ' Le'’s git all ther ginger out er this hyar thing we kin.” The assayer and the trapper bounded away in the di- rection of the stable. Cayuse put out for a little patch of grazing ground, where he had that morning picketed Navi, his pinto. : Five minutes later, Turck, Nomad, and Cayuse were streaking it into the hills. “Glad this happened, Bill,’ said Hoagland, “even if Turck never gets his saddle horse back. It stirs up things a little and keeps your trapper pard occupied. Cheap at the rice.” “Nomad’s got to have something doing about every so often,” returned the scout. “He can’t seem to settle down and take things easy for two or three days, hand running. There’s a microbe in his blood that keeps him itching for excitement all the time.” BILL STORIES. oS At that moment the mill whistle blew the noon blast. The roar of the stamps flattened out gradually as the mill engine was shut down. The croon gave way to a stac- cato bump, bump, bump, as the stamps of each battery slowly went out of commission. The silence that filled the valley was intense and oppressive. Miners came pouring out of the shaft house, and mill men came from the mill; ore haulers drove toward the stable to turn out their teams; the night shift in mine and mill jumped out of the bunk-house blankets, got into their boots, and started toward the water tank for a ‘“‘washdown.” In one minute after the whistle had blown, and the reverberation of the stamps had ceased, the camp, was full of husky men. The Chinese waiter appeared in the chuck-shanty door with a tin horn. He blew the horn, and the men started for the boarding house, talking, laughing, and playing pranks on each other like a lot of boys. “That means us, Bill,’ said Hoagland, getting up. “After we eat, 1 want to take you over to an open cut at the side of the valley and show you some ore indica- tions that make this mine look like the biggest bonanza in this part of New Mexico.” “All right, Amos,” said the scout. Hoagland had said nothing further about the package from Hackaday. The scout was glad of it. He was get- ting tired of the foolishness. He would keep the package as it was until Turck got back with or without the miss- ing horse. Meanwhile, he would go with Hoagland to look over the ore indications. _ Hoagland ate at a table apart from the long tables where the employees of the mine had their meals. His guests, of course, ate with him. This noon there were only two at the super’s table, and those two lost no time in finishing their meal. When it was done, they started their pipes and made for the open cut. The cut was about half a mile from the camp, at the extreme edge of the valley. It had been blasted out of the-valley’s bed, close up to the steep mountain wally The men had left the cut, and no more work was to be done there until later. “Did you ever see a finer ‘prospect,’ Bill?” queried _ Hoagland, indicating the vein in the bottom of the cut. “It certainly looks pretty good to me,” answered the scout, his eyes on the hand breadth of darkish rock that crossed from side to side of the trench. “The lead seems to bear down from the mountainside,” he added thought- fully, “and I'll bet something handgome this vein is only a splinter from a bigger and better vein that crops out up the slope.” “I hadn’t thought of that,” mused Hoagland, “but it may be you are right. The mountains all around this valley are of.mineral formation. There’s a little ledge, about forty feet directly over the cut. Suppose we climb  GE Sere ieee THE BUFFALO up there? Do you feel hike making the effort so soon fter dinner ?” “That $ just the time for an effort.” “Tt will be a stiff climb,’ “The stiffer the better. Even if we don’t find a new vein, Amos, we can sit on the ledge and smoke and look off over the camp. It’s a heap cooler up there than it is here. A breeze is fanning through the gap and it must hit this wall of the mountain.” “Corréetl” Hoagland removed his coat and dropped it in the open cut, then pulled up his belt a notch. The scout did like- wise, dropping his coat beside Hoagland’s. The ascent was, almost straight up, with bushes and projecting boulders to help the toiling men, Indications of another vein were lacking, and, so far as discoveries were condéetned, the scout and the super had their work for nothing, but the cooler air and the view over the camp well repaid them for their exertions. “Quite a layout you’ve got here, Hoagland,” observed Buffalo Bil. “A view like.this rather impresses a per- son. You can’t see the surface buildings from below, nor even from the gap as you ride the trail, except by two or three at a time. From here we can spot them all.” “Deep Notch, as a gold producer, is all right, Bill,’ returned Hoagland, “and I’m mighty lucky to have an in- terest in the property apart from this job of superin- tending. Our last:partial clean-up, after a week's run, will total twelve thousand dollars. A week from to-day we'll go after the clean-up in earnest.” “Why do you have a partial clean-up?” “The amalgam gets so thick on the mill plates that some of it is liable to loosen and run off with the tailings. Every time the amalgamator dresses down the plates he takes off a bunch of amalgam. When the vein below there is worked,” and the super nodded downward, “the mill will make even a better showing.” “You must have to carry a good deal of gold here all the time, eh?’ . “We send the bullion out every two weeks. The stuff that’s taken off the plates between clean-ups has to lay over.” “Bad business, Amos,” said the scout. “Some fine day the plug-uglies from the hills will make a raid on you. Carry the bullion in a safe?’ “Safe?” Hoagland laughed. ‘Well, we've got a safe in the office, but I don’t keep the bullion there. That safe, 1f loaded with gold, would be a standing invitation for the plug-uglies to come into Deep Notch and do busi- ness with us. No, friend, the bullion is stored under the floor of the mill.” “Under the floor of the mill?” echoed the scout. “Yes. It’s a heap safer there than it would be in the cate,” “How many of your employees nlite about the cache?” pest lldadinnn feminine aos strane cepa Un ats dat BILL STORIES, T put the stuff in and “Only a few of the trusted ones. take it out while the night shift is on duty. That gives ine a chance to work around the mill without being seen.” “Take my advice and abandon the cache,” said the scout earnestly. “Some one will discover it and make a getaway between two days.” | “T don’t think so—not when you consider iow careful Iam to keep the location of the cache a secret.” “Accidents are always liable to happen. How much have you got in the cache now?” “About twenty thousand dollars’ worth of bullion.” “That would be a rich plum for some tin horn who knew the ropes.” “T agree with you, Bill, but there isn’t a tin horn in this camp, and there never will be if I can help it.” “Maybe you can’t help it. How about the greaser that pulled out with Turck’s horse ?”’ “Well, it’s hard to tell much about a greaser. dor, though, has worked for me for some time.” “And you thought he was straight ?’”” “Lt hadn't (d have fired him.” “Then that proves that you had one tin horn in camp in spite of your vigilance. There may be others,” The scout’s talk made a deep impression on Hoagland. “The stealing of that horse, Bill,” said he, ‘is the first piece of thievery that has been pulled off in this camp for more than a year. It was sent to me as a warning, perhaps. I'll take it that way, anyhow. After this next clean-up goes to town, I'll quit storing bullion under the mill floor.” Salva- “T think you'll be glad you did it. Did Salvador work for Turck?” “He was a sort of roustabout around the mill and the assayer’s Office. I’m well rid of Salvador, even if he gets clear with Turck’s mount.” “That’s one way to look at it.” “To find out atin horn’s stripe is cheap at the price of a horse, Bill.” , “Possibly. Shall we look any farther for that vein, Amos?” “Well, we might climb a little higher.” They started to leave the ledge and mount still nearer to the top of the wall, Their course was strewn with loose boulders, and Hoagland displaced one of these and set it to rolling downward. Together the friends watched the bounding rock. | It jumped the ledge and rushed downward straight for the open cut. “Great Scott!” exclaimed Buffalo Bill. “There goes my watch, and I'll bet a pair of chaps on it.” . “Ts it in your coat?’ demanded Hoagland excitedly. “Yes—I left the package in my coat pocket.” “Criminal whooped Hoagland. “If you'd opened that carelessness !” His words were drowned in a flash and a roar from In tihesitalphe nia aadisaeahensstehdihdico ah old on arelaadhaia oi sonpeaniniiani car sett ease es erp IN rennet tence is as ee 2 eet  16. : THE BUPFALO BILL STORIES. the cut. A cloud of débris geysered aloft, hurling chipped granite at the mountainside. - Buffalo Bill, grabbing Hoagland’s arm, sank down be- hind a friendly barricade of boulders. CHAPTER X. HUNTING FOR HORSES. After Rickner came out of the old shaft, he and Wild Bill pulled out Nomad and Scaps. Scaps had the dead eagle i in his arms when he reached the cross-timber. “That kid is snifflin’ over Baldy as if it was his only brother,” muttered Rickner, watching Scaps work. his way to solid earth along the timber. “Maybe he thought a good deal of the eagle,’ ob- served Wild Bill. | “How could he when he was tryin’ ter sell the bird last night?” : Wild Bill tapped his forehezd suggestively. “He’s shy a few, Rickner,’ he murmured, “and he doesn’t look at things as the rest of us look at them.” He swept his eyes over the surroundings. _ “A first-chop place, this,” he went on, “for stowing away a lot of ombrays who're liable to get meddlesome. We're walled in by boulders, and there’s nothing to bring a human being this way.” : “Ve got to make some hustles mit ourselufs,” cried the baron. “Vat iss going on py Teep Nodch? Dot’s vat ve got to vie oudt. A kevick run to der Nodch—dot’s our cue.’ re “Go and get the horses, baron,” said Wild Bill, “and bring them to the cabin. I want to go there with Scaps and see whether or not Chance, and Breathitt, and Thompson are lingering there. Burdick, as I remember it, was to play the part of Rickner and deliver the letter and the package to Buffalo Bill.. Chance and the other two may be waiting at the cabin for Burdick to get back.” “All righdt,” said the baron, “aber pefore I can ged der horses, bard, I have got to ged pack indo der gulch. I haf losdt drack oof der vay.” “Scaps,” and Wild Bill turned to the youth, “show us the shortest way to the gulch.” “Il wouldn’t.’a’ thought it of Burdick,” the youth was mumbling; “I never’d ’a’ thought it of Burdick. I treated him white.” “Scaps!” shouted the Laramie man. Scaps jumped and whirled around. “Was you a-talkin’ ter me?” he asked. “Yes. Show us a short cut back to the gulch and the cabin.” oe “Come this here way, then.” Scaps started off through the boulders, still carrying the dead eagle in his arms. Nearly a quarter.of a mile lay between the old shaft and the rim of the gulch—a quarter of a mile of as desolate country as lay out of doors. Sas heen SES Te LE ete DiS oe Bi he ae Pico pis Ream ace oa Oe ae a ie snaps ts _ Buffalo Bill, Nomad, an’ Cayuse are there. “No wonder the miners in the gulch couldn’t hear us yellin’ down in that old shaft!” exclaimed Rickner, paus- ing at the edge of the gulch to look.down at the scattered cabins, “We'd never have got out this side of crack o’ doom if it hadn’t been for old Baldy,” said Wild Bill. “What's happened to all o’ us, sence we struck Dry Bone Gulch, is full o’ happenchances, Wild Bill. You an’ the baron jest happened to be in the cab where [| was taken, an’ Scaps happened to have the eagle an’ to insist on toting the bird to the bottom of the shaft. Prob- abilities have been backed clean off the board this round.” “Which proves,” said Wild Bill, “that truth is stranger than fiction, and that the wheel of fate turns up any old combination that destiny calls for.” : Still following Scaps, they were descending the side — of the gulch. “Tere iss vere I leaf you to go for der horses,” said “the baron. “Oof dot gang iss in der house, Vild Pill, gif dem Hail Golumpy.” Perhaps it was fortunate all around that hee eang had not remained in the cabin. The place was empty. If it had been occupied by Chance, Breathitt, and Thompson, the four bullets still left in Wild Bill’s revolver might not have served to carry the day against superior odds. In his present temper, however, the Laramie man would have welcomed a chance to set upon the three scoundrels alone and with his bare hands. , One of the stools in the hut was broken. The plank the baron had displaced lay on the floor under the raf- ters, and there were other evidences of the violent scene of the night before. “Nothing doing here,” growled Wild Bill grumpily. “The three junipers have made a getaway.” “From the’ looks o’ things,” hazarded Rickner, “they must have lit out purty soon arter they lowered us inter the shaft.” “It can’t be that they all went with Burdick?” “Sure not! Chance, Breathitt, and Thompson wouldn’t dare to show themselves in the Deep Notch camp while Burdick, though, ain’t known to your pards.” “But Burdick wouldn’t linger while Pard Cody was opening that package. He’d hike out. Burdick had to figure some to get the package and the letter into the scout’s hands, and that gives us a forlorn hope.” “Hope o’ what?” “Why, that there’s been a delay in the scout’s looking at his ‘present’ from Hackaday. This may have been caused by Burdick’s figuring to hide his hand in deliver- ing the package, or it is possible that the scout is away from the camp on some business or other and hasn't been able to receive and open the package.” “I hope you're right,” said Rickner. ro et Slee 4 0O “A nope at, fT, mel  ‘ THE BUFFALO “Are you going back to Hackaday?” asked Wild Bill. “Me? Now? Well, not-so you can notice. Breathitt an’ Thompson hav got away, an’ I’m goin’ to do what I can to overhaul ‘em. Likewise, I’m goin’ to see what happens, or has happened, in Deep Notch.” ‘“Where’s your horse, Rickner? tion?” ee a notion. skin’s backy1 lost all track OTe, “The baron and I stakéd our own mounts out at a distance from the cabin, but my horse would hardly be able to carry double on a quick run to Deep’ Notch.” Have ysyou any no- “I don’t ask you to let me ride on one o’ your hosses, Wild Bul. If I can’t find my own mount, I'll get an- other from down the gulch. Reckon I'd better go out an’ look for the buckskin.” ee 3 "TL go awith you. «Sceaps; and the Laramie man turned to the youth, “rustle some grub for all hands, will you? Hurry itup. We've got to start with a rush, and we've got to eat before we start.” “T wouldn’t ’a’ thought it o’ Burdick,” mumbled Scaps, “after me takin’ him in an’ treatin’ him white.” » Wild Bill yelled at Scaps, captured his attention, and got him to promise to get some food ready; then he and Rickner left the cabin to look for the buckskin. Wild Bill was not expecting to find the horse, having an, idea that the animal had perhaps been appropriated ' by Chance and his men. But there was a surprise in store for Wild Bill, for the buckskin cayuse was discov- ered less than a hundred feet from the cabin door. “T reckon Buck was too badly fagged. for them tin horns to use him,” said Rickner. “Anyways, they must have had mounts of their own.” The cowboy led the horse down to the creek for water. While he was leading the animal back, the baron ap- peared. “Der horses vas gone away mit deirselufs, Vild Pill!” reported the baron. “I don’d vas aple to see dem any- yeres. , “By gorry, Chance must have found the live stock and hustled it out of the way. I don’t think either he or his men used the animals, for they were fagged at the time the gang must have started. Probably the mounts have been tucked away in some other place in the gulch.” “TH get riding gear on Buckskin and ride down the gulch on a-hunt for the animals,” offered Rickner. “You've got to get to Deep Notch in a hurry, an’ if the hosses can’t be located, I’d better try an’ pick you up a couple down below.” “Have something to eat first, Rickner. We're bound to have a delay, and it’s poor policy to face a difficulty like this on an empty stomach.” “It iss pedder dot we ve eat,’ \agreed the baron; ‘“‘meppy ve vas too lade to do anyt’ing for Puffalo Pill, anyvays. I vished I knowed dot.” Arter I was snaked off’n the buck- 17 Riekner had found his saddle, saddle anket, and bridle, and he made his horse all ready@for the start be- fore going into the cabin for his nfeal. It was about two o’clock in the afternoon, and the dis- couraging delays were working on the spirits of the three men.. There was little talk as they bolted their food, and when. they had finished eating, Rickner mounted and fared away. BILL STORIES. Wild Bill and the baron, taking different dieetpae from the cabin, beat up the brush, Wild Bill whistling now and again a familiar note that Beeswax, if in hear- ing, would understand and answer with a whinney. Three hours of this work enabled the pards to go far and search exhaustively, but without: result. Beeswax. and Toofer had apparently disappeared for good. It be- gan to look, indeed, as though. Chance and his men had : taken the mounts with them—although why they should bother with Toofer, who was the most stubborn and - vicious long-eared brute on hoofs, was a mystery. “It’s my idea, baron,’ remarked Wild Bill gloomily, when he and his Dutch pard met at the cabin, “that the mounts were taken away so they wouldn’t be found and lead to disagreeable Questioning.” “Dere iss nopody to kvestion,’ demurred the baron; “und vy vasn’t dot puckskin horse taken avay, too? Dis iss der toughest broposition vat I efer vent oop against, yah, so helup me.” Hope was'at the lowest ebb when Rickner came shack- ing up to the cabin with Toofer and Beeswax in tow. “ve been the hull length o’ the gulch,” said Rickner. “On my,way down, things was gloomy. Nobody had a hoss—ev ry hoss in Dry Bone was away some’r’s. On my way back, I heerd a whinner in the bresh, p’inted that-a- way, an’ fgund these animiles. Ridin’ gear was layin’ ’ close to ’em. I saddled up in a brace o’ shakes, an’ hyer we are, ready fer the trail.” “Mit a lot oof time losdt!” muttered te baron; “‘so mooch time dot I bed you all iss ofer at der Nodch.” “We'll hit the trail good and hard, just the same,” said Wild Bill, rising to his saddle. “Spurs»and quirts, compadres—and now for Deep Notch!’ CHAPTER XL A MURDEROUS PROBLEM. Buffalo Bill and Hoagland, lying under the shelter of a boulder on the mountainside, waited for the last piece of débris from the cut to settle; then, lifting themselves erect, they stared down into the cut in astonishment. A shallow hole had been scooped out on the newly dis- covered vein. All around lay the litter of the blast, prov- ing what a tremendous force had been behind it. “Well, (ll be blamed!” muttered the astounded Hoag- land. “What in blazes did that?” basmtdinhnetandn silat nem ioveanpecmnmasiiniensse irs ete iat aS es ea ka gy Dele tea Lae eas calc aaa ek  PTR ea CRIN RNR OR Cheater oly 1 Reaar Lae Bah po RES NRT CNRS RET CRN Ne eee eset ee 18 : : oe. BURPALO oh eo) . “Giant powder,” said the scout. “T know, Bill *hut »where did the giant powder come from?” | “From a loaded hole your miners must have left and forgotten about.” “Not on your life! I’m careful about that. When a “blast is put in, my men have orders to count the charges as they go off. Six loads opened up that cut, and the six loads are all accounted for. Besides, Bill, a piece of fuse sticking out of a hole couldn't set off a blast in any such way. That rock would have had to fall on dyna- mite, or on a cap connected with a stick of dynamite. There’s no other way.” “Did you have any giant powder in your pocket, Amos?” queried the scout. quizzically. “Well, hardly.” “The boulder landed squarely on our coats.” “Was there any dynamite in your coat?” “Tm not in the mining business, and haven't any use for dynamite. [fi——” The scout paused, a queer cx=ression pulling at the lines of his face. ‘ “Go on, said Hoagland. “Let's get to the bottom of this if we can.’ “It seems a wild supposition, Amos,’ went on the scout slowly, “and yet, if there was any dynamite in my coat, it must have been in that package.” Hoagland gasped. “You don’t mean to insinuate that the people of Hack- aday would a -“T insinuate nothing against the people of Hackaday,” cut in the scout. “They’re friends of mine, to a man.” “Then why should there have been any high explosive in that package?” “There are ways., It is absolutely certain that. giant powder caused the blow up, isn’t it?” res,” “You’re equally certain that it could not have been caused by a charge left by your miners?” “Positive.” i “Then there must have been dynamite in our coats— and it could only have been in that package.’ “But why in a package sent to you by friends and ACMIreLs gy Teck adaN Ue) ae ® “It’s a murderous problem, and in working it out, Amos, the facts indicate that the people of Hackaday had nothing to do with the package.” “Who, then? I’m getting bewildered.” “Let us suppose that I have enemies, Now, a clever enemy could have devised that diabolical scheme. The letter could have been forged and the package. delivered. I have seen a few infernal machines in my time, and that package may have been arranged so that the dynamite would ‘let go’ when the box was opened.” 6 Lerner aes BILE STORIES. 4 r Hoagland broke out into a torrent of maledictions _ against such contemptible work under the guise of a. tribute from grateful friends. “The work is contemptible, all right,” proceeded the scout. “And, in this connection, [ am reminded that the man who brought the letter and the package didn’t de- liver it to me by his own hand. That looked suspicious to me before, but it looks doubly suspicious now. You saw the fellow?” GE Know hima ie “Not from Adam. He was a stranger to me. From his appearance he was a miner. His horse was a sorrel cayuse, But I didn’t pay much attention. I called Jim- mie and told him to take the letter and the package to Turck’s office. When Jimmie came back and reported, the man had been gone for fifteen minutes. In fact, he wheeled and left for the gap as soon as the letter and the’ package were delivered to me.” “Did he ask any questions about me?’ “He wanted to know if you were in the camp, and I said you were. That's all.” “Don't you think it queer that a man, bringing me such a ‘token of esteem,’ as that package was supposed to be, should fail to give it to me with his own hands?’ “Come to think of it, Bill, it was mighty queer!” “My idea, exactly. And that proves that the man brought an infernal machine and wanted to get a long way off before I began tampering with it.” | The scout brushed a hand across his frowning brow. “Cody luck has stood right at my elbow,’ he added, “ever since that package was put into my hands. You know how many times we have been near to opening it. Why, I gave it to you to open while I went for a drink! If you hadn’t been called to the. storehouse for drill iron, . The scout winced and shrugged his shoulders, “I'd have gone skyrocketing, sure!’ murmured Hoag- land. He was a brave man, but his face went white. Again he broke out into a flood of maledictions against the would-be assassins who had sent the deadly contrivance to the scout. “Who do you think the villains can be?” he asked. The scout was thoughtful. “IT can think of no one but Breathitt and Thompson, ’ said he, “whom my pards and I recently landed in the Lone Star jail. But they’re behind the bars.” “Isn't there any one else?” “No one but Boswell, a weak-kneed tin horn without ginger enough to carry out such a scheme. I haven't any idea that Boswell is in this part of the country, even!” “Then, 1f it wasn’t Breathitt, or’ Thompson, or Bos- well, what is your next guess?” inf wa pla all  THE BUFFALO “Some new hand, I should say at a venture.” “An enemy, of course?” “Perhaps yes, and perhaps no. The plug-uglies I men- tioned a while ago may be playing a game here.” “A game? What sort of a game?” “I don’t know, but ¢ertainly it had for part of its object the sending of Buffalo Bill along the one-way trail. I’ve got an idea for probing this to the bottom.” “How ?” “Listen, Amos. You will return to the camp alone and say nothing about the explosion. You “But it must have -been heard in the camp!” “Even so, no one will think anything about it. Blast- ing is going on in Deep Notch pretty much all the time. None of your men has come to investigate the explosion, and that proves that they have taken it as a matter of course,” I’m to return to camp and say nothing What next?” “lll hang around in the hills. You'll say that I left you to take a little pasear, and that I was to be back by three o’clock, Three o’clock will come and I won’t be back. You will appear surprised and say so to as many of your employees as you can; but you’ll suppose that my peasear carried me rather farther than I antici- pated, and that I’ surely show up later. But I won’t bé around by supper time. You'll’ seem to grow worried. If Nick and Cayuse get back, you'll tip them off. Nick will quiet your fears. He'll tell you that Buffalo Bill knows how to take care of himself, and that there’s no occasion for worry. Understand all that?” “Well, go.on., about the explosion. “Yes, Bill, but where does it lead to? What’s it all about ?” “I’m figuring that, if there is any game back of that infernal machine apart from just putting me out of the way, then some one will be around to learn whether the plan succeeded. If you act as/I tell you, it will be known all through Deep Notch that I am missing. When that’s discovered by the spy—if there is such a person hanging, around the camp—he’ll consider that the time is ripe to go on with the game, whatever it is. Then V’ll take hold —with both hands.” "How 2 “In the way that seems best. The method I’ve sug- gested appears to be the only one for getting to the bot- tom of this matter. It’s worth trying, even if it doesn’t amount to anything,” - “T'll do whatever you say, Bill.” “There’s another coat in my luggage. As it gets chilly in this Notch after sundown, you might leave the coat in the brush between the assayer’s office and the mill. There are three small clumps—leave it in the middle clump.” “Is that all?” “That’s all, If anything happens, Amos, you can gam- - 8 IRE aR IETS IR ATEN aT ACT a I a cae Oe Ve rae I BILL STORIES, 19 ble that I'll be on deck. If the situation queers up, pay no attention to it. Ten to one it will be the game, pro- ceeding to a finish. Let it proceed. I'll see that no loss comes to you.” “You have sure got a head for planning, old friend,” said Hoagland, “but I don’t want you to twist off more than you can take care of.” “T’m not doing that,’ laughed the scout. “Any instructions for Nomad and the Piute?” “Tell Nomad to hang around the mill, and tell Cayuse to be close to Turck’s office. They will be handily by for me, and I can get them if I want them.” “Correct. But what will you do for supper 2?” “Supper never bothers me at a time like this.” “T suppose not. I’m beginning to understand how it is you have so much success scouting and doing other stunts. You use your head as a as you do yout hands. Nerve, backed by sagacity “And I don’t want any bouquets, Amos. how well you can play your part.” Hoagland paused only long enough to grasp the scout’s hand, and then he descended to the shelf and on into the open cut. The scout, from the mountainside, watched him as he moved through the camp. Hike, and see CHAPTER XII THE VOICE IN THE DARK. The trail taken by Wild Bill, the baron, and Rickner in their journey from Dry Bone to Deep Notch led through a rough pass that pierced the San Leone Mountains. Or-. dinarily, a mounted man could traverse the pass between suns, but Wild Bill was hoping to do better than that. Evening found them just entering the pass, and pound- ing recklessly onward over a treacherous trail. The baron’s mule lost footing, a mile within the pass, and slid dewn a ten-foot embankment. Fortunately, neither the baron nor the mule was injured, but it was a close call. It was dark as Erebus in the pass—so dark the ‘travelers could hardly see their hands before their faces. This rendered it difficult to get the baron and the mule back into the trail, but it was finally ac- complished, after the loss of half an hour of valuable tiie. «= ‘“Meppyso I preak my neck ven I do dot again,” the baron. “You don’t want to do it again, pard,” returned Wild Bill, “T don’d vant to, you bed you. I ditn’t vant to do it dot odder time, but down I vent, schust der same.” “Tt’s a mighty bad trail,” spoke up. Rickner, “when a mule can’t stay in it. I wish I knew it better. I know it runs through the pass, an’ that if we keep to the pass we're bound to come out at Deep Notch.” said itt eA my ce ihe net eae  So eae Meee Ln a s AS RATS ae “20 THE BUFFALO “It’s my first time over the trail,” said the Laramie man. : “Look a leedle oudt dot it ain’t der lasdt time,” urged the baron. “One thing’s sure, by gorry, and that is that the more haste we make the less speed we'll develop. A few more accidents like the baron’s and we won't get to the Notch for a week. I can see daylight, anyhow, before we get to the camp.” Rickner, who had been over the road once before, took the lead, racking his memory for the various pitfalls that threatened travelers. He went slowly. Wild Bill and the baron followed the cowboy in single file, by ear alone. : The pass grew more and more rugged as the party trailed farther and farther into it, The riders could look up and see the peaks outlined against the night sky, the mighty granite buttressed against the stars in a jagged line to right and left. There were a few slips on the part of the horses, but no serious mishap. The pace, however, was heartbreak- ingly slow. “Ve von’t ged py Teep Nodch for a mont’ oof ve go like dis,” grumbled the baron. “It’s better to get there in a month, pard,” called back Wild Bill, “than not to get there at all.” “Vere do you tink iss Shance und der odder fellers?” “Tm by. Ive ceased to think about those ombrays, and all that bothers me now is Pard Cody and that in- fernal package.” “Ach,” wailed the baron, “dot bodders me, too, more as I can tell. Meppyso ve meet dot Purdick feller coming pack, hey? Vat you tink?” “Maybe he don’t intend to come back. Quite likely, Baron, Burdick will rejoin Breathitt, Thompson, and Chance at some other place than Dry Bone. The gang would be foolish to go back there, after the way they handled us.” oe “Don’t you think they. was up to somethin’ besides jest wipin’ Buffalo Bill off the map?’ asked Rickner, from ahead. “That’s job enough for ’em, and I don’t think they ll tangle up with anything else. Ive got an-opinion But Wild Bill did not voice his opinion. At that pre- cise juncture a hail reached the ears of the three men from some point in advance. “Oo-ee! QOo-ee!”’ It was a distant hail, but very distinct and rather - queer. The three riders pulled to a halt. “Well!” exclaimed Wild Bill; “now, what do you think of that?” | “For vy don’d der feller say ‘hello’ und be done mit itr? asked the baron. “‘Oo-ee, oo-ee!’”’ he mocked. “Vas it a shink hail, I don’d know?’ 1 Ble STORIES: “Better answer it, Wild Bill,” suggested Rickner. ‘Tf we can get the feller close enough, mebby we can find out who he is.” “T was going to answer it.” Wild Bill threw back his head and answered the hail in the sate manner it had been given. Dead silence followed. . “Vat nexdt?” muttered the. baron. peen shcared off?” “Has der f eller “IT don’t think so,’ answered the Laramie man. “He's probably riding toward us. We'll wait here for a spell and see what happens.”’ “| They waited a few minutes and then, from far ahead, they heard the scrambling of a horse. “Oo-ee! Oo-ee!” Once more the voice came out of the dark. “Oo-ee! Oo-ee!’ yelled Wild Bill. “Que quiere?” came from the night, in Spanish “Greaser, by thunder!” muttered Rickner. “I was hopin’ it might be Burdick, or some o’ them others.’ “Who are you?” rapped out Wild Bill, in his best peon Mexican. “Salvador!” answered the man. ‘“Ees dat you, Capitan Chance ?”’ “Je-ru-sa-lem !”” whispered Rickner. “A greaser look- in’ for Chance! Say, the gang must-——’ : Sil? roared Wild Bill, : “T haf found vat you want! Sefior Burdick ees in de camp! He sent me to tell vere you get vat you want.” “Wait for us,’ whooped Wild Bill. “Move on, Rick- ner,’ he added to the cowboy, dropping. his voice and showing as much excitement as he ever displayed. “We're picking up a fag end of something, here, and that Sal- vador is our quarry. We'll nail the whelp.” Cautiously Ricknéf ~rode forward. The hoofbeats — ahead came closer and closer, and suddenly the Laramie man and the baron heard quick movements, an oath in Spanish and another in English, and then\a heavy fall. “What's to pay, Rickner?” demanded Wild Bill. “Nothin’,” puffed the cowboy, “only I’ve got my knees on the greaser’s chest, an’ my fingers around his throat. Come an’ take him. Bring my lariat.” No one had any matches. The struggle to get out of ° the old shaft had depleted their pockets of firesticks and they had not replenished their supply at Scaps’ cabin. All that was done had to be.by groping. Dimly Wild Bill discerned the figure of a riderless horse in the trail. Halting beside the animal, he leaned over and felt for the coiled rope. Securing the rope, he dismounted and stumbled blindly to the place where Rickner had his prisoner. “Careful,” warned Rickner. “If he ever gets away from us in this darkness he’s gone for good. Here—I'll turn him over on his face,” \ Ce bi ite ail th Me eh 3 lef iIne¢  Ay RES Wild Bill knelt down and succeeded in getting the end . of the rope around the Mexican’s wrists. “He's safe,” announced the Laramie man, hanging to the rest of the rope. “Get up, Rickner, and let him turn over. We'll palaver some.” The cowboy arose and the dusky blot in the trail stirred and sat up. “Take de caballo, sehor!” begged the Mexican, “take de caballo but let me go. Ah, Dios mio! I no want de caballo !”’ “Whose caballo is it?” asked Wild Bill. “Him b’long Sefor Turck.” “And who’s Sehor Turck? or you'll wish you had.” Speak the truth, greaser, “T speak de trut’, sil’ quavered the prisoner. ‘De aballo ees b’long to Sefior Turck, de assayer at Deep Notch.” “Stole the horse, did you?” “Me, I borrow heem! Un poco tiempo, I take heem back.” “Why are you looking for Captain Chance?’ “T was told,” “By Burdick ?” “Si. I was told by Sefior Burdick.” The Mexican’s hard luck had sapped all.his nerve. He was shaking like a man with the ague, and his teeth chattered as he talked. “Where is Burdick? At the Deep Notch mine?’ He hide by the Deep Notch mine.” “What have you found out that you were to tell shance 2” “Where de gol’ ees hid, sefior.” “Gold 2” “Si! De oro from de clean-up. Eet ees under de mill floor. I told Sefior Burdick, an’ he told me to find Cap- itan Chance an’ tell him.” “There is another deal back of this, by gorry if there ain't!” exclaimed Wild Bill. “Say, you,” and he gave the rope a savage pull, “was Buffalo Bill in the camp ? You sabe, Buffalo Bill?” “T sabe. He ees in de camp.” “Did Burdick come to the camp with anything for Buf- falo Bill?” “Si, he come.” “Before you left?” “Si, long time.” “What did Burdick leave for Buffalo Bill?” “Quien sabe? I do not know dat, sefior.” “Had anything happened to Buffalo Bill before you lett” “I do not know dat, sefior.” “You were to meet Chance in this pass?” “Si! You no keel me for dat, sefior. me for take de caballo?” - You no want THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. “T don’t know what T’ll do with you, yet. Didn’t you pass Chance? Are you sure he’s behind us?” “No sabe, sefior. I thought you was heem.” “Here's a; mix, pards,) said Wild Bil, 7 Chance, Breathitt, and Thompson may be behind us, but we can’t tell for sure; but we do know for sure that there’s some- thing on at the Deep Notch mine. Shall we ride on, or wait here to see if the three tinhorns try to pass?” “Better ride on,’ suggested Rickner, “an’ take the greaser with us. We're tollable shore somethin’ll be doin’ at Déep Notch, an’ it’s a long chance whether wait here to see if the three tin horns try to pass?’ “Dot’s vat I tink,’ struck in the baron, “At lasdt ag- gounts Puffalo Pill Wtis safe, aber he hat der backage. Led us rite on.” “We can’t make the mine before sunup,’ said Wild Bill, “and the game may be all over there by the time we arrive.” “IT reckon we’d better go on, jest the same,’ said Rickner, “That’s how I reckon. Bear a hand, baron, while we tie this whelp to the stolen horse.” Getting the Mexican on the horse, and safely bound in that position, was a difficult matter, but the three friends succeeded. When they continued onward, Wild Bill was towing the horse and the prisoner. CHAPTER XIII. THE SCOUTS COUNTERPLOT. Old Nomad, Turck, and Little Cayuse had a weary and fruitless time of it chasing the Mexican horse thief. They rode back through the gap and down into Deep Notch just as the Chinaman was blowing the supper horn. Jimmie met them on the way to the stable and handed out some disquieting news. “Buffalo Bill is missin’!” The old trapper drew back on Hide-rack’s bit. “Missin: ?” he echoed. “That’s what. He an’ the boss went over to the new cut right after dinner. The boss come back, but Buffalo | Bill allowed he’d take a little pasear an’ git back by three o'clock. He didn’t show up by three. Now it’s supper time an’ he ain’t showed up yet.” “Did he take his hoss, son?” “Nope. The horse is in the stable.” “Waugh! Somethin’s come up, an’ I'll bet a poncho. Shore somethin’ had ter come up while me an’ Cayuse was out o' camp.” The horsemen rode on, Cayuse with a gloomy, appre- hensive look on his face. “Where do you reckon Buffalo Bill has gone?” in- quired Turck, when the horses had been attended to. “Ain't got er idee,’ said Nomad,  Ze . JHE BUPRALO “He wouldn’t go far without his horse, would he?” “Et ain’t likely he would, but ye never kin tell what Buffler is goin’ ter do.” The old trapper was more worried than he cared to acknowledge. : “Cayuse,” said he, after Turck had left them to drop in at his office, “what d’ye opine erbout this?” Cayuse shook his head. “I don’t know nothing erbout et, nuther; but ef Buf- fler left ter take a leetle pasear an’ allowed he’d be back _ by three, et’s a safe bet he was slipped up in his calcu- : lations. Now et’s arter six, an’ he’s three hours behind schedule. Blamed ef I like ther looks 0’ things. S’posin’ we hunt up Hoagland an’ ask a few questions ?” “Wuh!” assented Little Cayuse. The super was standing in front of his office, talking with one of the men on the night shift. “That’s all I know about it, Jameson,” the super was saying. “Buffalo Bill told me he’d be back by three, but it’s supper time, and he hasn’t shown up. You're as good a hand at guessing as I am.” Jameson shook his head forebodingly, and moved on _ toward the chuck shanty. Nomad and Cayuse stepped to Hoagland’s side. “What's this hyar erbout Pard Buffler not gittin’ back ter camp, Hoagland?” the old trapper demanded. “Oh, you’re here, eh? Find anything of that missing horse?” “Didn’t find hide ner ha’r o’ ther critter. But thet ain’t what's botherin’ me. Whar’s Buffler?” “You heard——” “All ther camp seems ter know he went out with you, right arter dinner, an’ left ye ter take:a pasear, sayin’ hed git back at three. Waal, et’s six, an’ he’s still absent a hull lot. What d’ye think?” Hoagland rammed his hands into his jacket pockets, took a cautious look around, then turned toward the office door. “Come in, Nomad, you and Cayuse,” said he, “and Pll tell you what I think.” ; | When they were all inside the office, the super closed the door. “Buffalo Bill is working a counterplot,” said he. “He - told me I was to tell you two about it, but that you were not to let it out to a living soul.” Nomad and Cayuse opened their. eyes wide at that. “What's the counterplot?” asked the trapper, anxious to get right down.to the facts. Hoagland led off by explaining about the package which had ostensibly arrived from Hackaday, and which had exploded in the scout’s coat when the loosened boulder rolled down on it. This caught and held the breathless attention of the trapper and the Piute. — The super went on, stating the inferences the scout Rie STORIES. ‘ o had drawn from the infernal machine and the move he had planned to backcap possible trouble. : “Wouldn’t thet rattle yore spurs?’ scowled Nomad, a fierce gleam in his eyes. “Talk erbout yore mis’able, low-down schemes, thet thar one shore takes ther banner. Waugh! I wish ter thunder I could git my hands on ther throat o’ ther pizen whelp thet’s back o’ the play. He’d never git clear o’ me with any breath left in him,” “If you follow Bill’s orders, Nomad,” said Hoagland, “you may get the chance you ask for.” “What's the orders?” “Why, to act as though you don’t know where the scout is, but also as though you are confident he'll come back all right, in good time. Also, you are to hang around the stamp mill.” ‘Showin’ myself ter the mill men, er hangin’ back an’ watchin’ unbeknownst ter ’em?”’ “Bill didn’t say. You'll have to use your own judg- ment about that. Cayuse is to give his attention to the assayer’s office, both of you holding yourselves in con- stant readiness to answer any sudden call of the scout’s.” “We'll do thet, shore. I kin see Buffler’s idee, which is some queer when ye consider how thick-headed I am erbout any fine work. Buffler is lettin’ them ombrays think the watch an’ chain blowed up an’ wiped him out. Thet’ll give ’em narve ter go ahead with any underhand work they’re plannin’ hyar. At the right time, Buffler’ll step in an’ apply the reg’lation Cody kibosh.” “That’s the size of it, Nick.” “An’ I’m jest ter hang eround ther mill an’ wait.” “So I understand it. No matter what you see, you’re not to interfere until Bill gives you the word. That’s his instructions to me, and I suppose they’ll apply equally to you.” “Waal, sence I got my work mapped out, I reckon I’ll set in at chuck pile an’ then purceed ter the mill. I’m beginnin’ ter feel better. This hyar is somethin’ wuth while, this is. I was beginnin’ ter think Deep Notch camp was deader’n a smelt, but mebbyso I’ll hev cause ter change my mind.” “T’d like to see the camp ‘deader than a smelt’ if it’s got to be lively because of crime and trouble,” said Hoag- land. “I’ve fought to preserve order here, and I’ve suc- ceeded pretty well, up to now.” : “Don’t be in a takin’ over what’s goin’ ter happen now. Buffler’s on ther job, an’ whenever Pard Buffler gits on a job, youth an’ beauty kin sleep in peace an’ ye kin leave the front doors open. Come on, Cayuse, an’ Let's) eat,” . The topic of all the miners at table was Buffalo Bill and his mysterious absence. “Don’t ye worry none erbout my pard,” Nomad re- marked. “He wasn’t born yesterday, an’ he ain’t no ten- derfoot.. He'll come back from his pasear, an’ mebbyso he'll come back in er way ter s’prise ye.” plan i Rae IRE SAE tO Sag nf  We AV (Rx wm nh i c ’ 1 i THE BUFFALO When Nomad and Cayuse left the chuck shanty after supper, they separated without remark. Each knew what he was to do and did not choose to discuss their work before the miners. Old Nomad was loafing in the body of the mill when the seven-o’clock whistle blew and the night shift took hold. He saw Blake, the engineer, drop his hand from the whistle cord to the starting lever. The big flywheel, that turned half its circumference under the mill floor, gathered motion slowly. The stamps puttered up and down as the cams hit the stamp-stem shoulders with in- creasing rapidity, and finally the whole discordant sound straightened out into a steady roar. The wooden shell of the mill shivered from the titanic work of the batteries. Muddy water gushed from the screens Of the battery boxes, spurted in a thin stream over the copper plates coated with quicksilver, yielded up the gold, then carried the tailings off into the tailings trough. A big lantern, swinging from the roof of the mill, lighted the plates, the battery boxes, and the whirling flywheel, Head high between the floor and the upper half of the stamp stems was a loft, open at the side facing the body of the mill. This loft was reached by a short flight of stairs against the right-hand wall of the mill. Outside, an incline ran up to the loft. Ore wagons climbed the incline, discharged their contents on the ore platform, and the ore was then thrown into crushers and broken small for the stamps. Hoppers and chutes car- ried the broken ore into the battery boxes. Besides the light in the body of the mill, there was another in the loft. No ore hauling, of course, was done during the night. Sufficient ore for the use of the night shift was piled on the outside platform during the day. For an hour, Nomad watched the scene of activity inside the mill, then he stepped into the engine room. “Buffalo Bill got back yet?’ Blake shouted in Nomad’s ear. " “Nary, he ain’t,” replied Nomad, “but I reckon ye’'ll all know when he gits back.” “Ain't ye worried none?’ “Not me! Buffler knows how ter look out fer Number One. Thet’s er fact ye don’t want ter lose in the shuf- fle, Blake.” Nomad started from the engine room by the outside door, “Calculatin’ ter turn in?” inquired Blake. Old Nomad made a reply that was drowned in the up- roar of the shaking gold mill. He was not intending to turn in, however, but did not think it necessary to apprise Blake of the fact. Slowly walking around the side of the mill, Nomad took a chair in the dark space under the ore loft. BILU STORIES. CHAPTER XIV, THE TROUBLE BEGINS. There were only three men on the night shift in the mill, Blake, the engineer, was one; Hagan,gthe amal- gamator, was another, and Rostetter, the roustabout, was the third. It was Blake’s business, of course, to attend to the engine. Hagan looked after the plates and the batteries, dressing down the plates as occasion demanded, regulat- ing the flow of water and ore into the battery boxes, and making sure that everything proceeded properly. Ros- tetter spent most of his time in the ore loft, keeping the hoppers properly filled. Whenever he left the loft it was usually for the purpose of acting as fireman for Blake. Unless something broke down there was no occasion for any of the mill men going far back under the ore loft. Hagan occasionally had to go to the back of the battery boxes to regulate the flow of water or ore, but he never went back far enough to become aware of the presence of Nomad. The old trapper smoked his pipe and kept a keen eye on all that went forward in the body of the mill. It was monotonous business. When everything was going well, Hagan occupied a chair between the. two sets of plates, vigilantly eying the dancing stems at the edge of the ore loft, the sheet of muddy water over the plates, and the gush of water and tailings into the tailings trough. He “hung up” the stamps twice before midnight. That is, he put one battery out of commission while the ma- chinery was still going, and went over the silvered plates with a bottle of “quick’’ and a short whisk broom. This was called “dressing down.’ Otherwise, the batteries demanded little attention. Old Nomad, lulled by the-roar and the monotony of his vigil, leaned back against the rough board wall and caught himself dropping into a doze. At midnight he got up, stole out of the mill by a door under the ore loft, and climbed the incline leading to the head of the ramshackle building. There he mounted the ore platform and looked through a gap in the boards into the loft. Rostetter was shoveling crushed ore into the hoppers, stripped to the waist and looking like a demon under the light and through the mounting dust. Nomad, in order to get himself thoroughly awake, walked up and down the incline of the road, gulping in the crisp night air. “Et’s tamer than I know how ter mention,’ he mut- tered, returning to his chair under the loft, ‘Wonder ef Buffler is on ther wrong track? Waugh! Et’ll be ther fust time, ef he is. But why don’t ther pesky trouble begin?”  ¢ THE: BUFFALO The hours dragged. Light began to fringe the moun- tain wall on the east. . Nomad’s disappointment was intense. passed and not a thing had happened! While he was pestering himself with disagreeable thoughts, “Hagan ran hastily up into the loft and hung up . the stamps of both batteries. The silence that reigned in the mill was a signal for Blake to stop the engine. But the machinery kept whirling merrily. The night had Hagan yelled from the ore loft. There was no answer from the engine room. Hagan repeated the yell. Still no answer. _ Evidently puzzled to account for Blake’s failure to show himself, reply, or stop the engine, Hagan ran down the steps into the body of the mill, rounded the ends of the plates and disappeared through the door of the engine room. Old Nomad, craning his head eagerly forward, thought he heard the sound of a blow, followed instantly by a + smothered cry. Was it his imagination? He did not think so; and he was still less of that opinion when Ros- tetter also rushed down the steps and jumped into the engine room. _ None ‘of the mill men reappeared. As Nomad translated his instructions, he was not to interfere with what was going forward—at least, not until he received a signal from Buffalo Bill. But here was wholesale trouble of some sort, and the old trapper felt an irresistible call to investigate. What had happened to Blake, Hagan, and Rostetter? It seemed like a question that ought to be settled forthwith. Creeping out between the two batteries, Nomad moved down the wide aisle between the plates, rounded the bot- tom of the right-hand plate, and stepped to the door of the engine room. He had a flashing Siiapee of the three mill men, all of 3 them bound hand and foot and gagged. They were lying on the engine-room floor, and over them ee a ruffan with a drawn revolver. e The sight of that ruffan was a dazer for the old trapper. a Was he dreaming, or was the man really Breathitt? If it was Breathitt, what was he doing there when he was supposed to be in the lockup at Lone Star? But that was a time for action and not for figuring out mental problems. Nomad’s hand darted at his hip. Simultaneously with the movement to draw a revolver, Nomad was seized from behind by a pair of powerful arms and thrown backward. At the same moment a hand covered his lips to prevent outcry.’ “It’s the old varmint, Buffalo Bill’s pard,” hissed a voice, “Gag him, quick! Hold his hand, Burdick! [ll sit on his feet. Thompson, get something between his jaws.” BILL -STORIGS. Nomad was bewildered by all this. Here was Thomp- son, as well as Breathitt! Both men, therefore, must have given the Lone Star authorities the slip. Burdick the trapper had never seen before, and the other man, who had charge _ the po was also strange to him. The old trapper’s chagrin was deep. He had inter- fered when he had been told not to do so, and now he was in the grip of men who had captured the night shift at the mill. It was too early to expect any aid f-om the camp. It would be almost two hours yet before the shift in the mine knocked off work and the day shift for mine and mill issued from the bunk house. There was ample tinie for these daring scoundrels to do a lot of evil work! But what was their work to be? Were they planning to strip the plates of amalgam? What else was there of value about the mill? Nomad was pushed to one side. Thompson brought out some stout canvas bags and stood by expectantly waiting. “Hurry up, Burdick,’ warned the man in charge of operations. “If that greaser told you the right place, we'll win out if we hustle. Don’t lose any time.” | Burdick glided to a point midway between the plates, knelt down on the wet planks and examined the floor carefully. “The greaser said thar was a white spot close ter the place whar the trap’s ter be pried open, an’—ha! hyer it is, by thunder! I reckon this is the last time the boss o’ this camp’ll ever stow his gold in sich a cache.” Drawing a knife from his pocket, Burdick pressed the point down into the boards and pried on the handle. A section of the floor, measuring about a square foot, gave way and was lifted and laid aside. \ Burdick reached down into the opening and drew out a canvas bag. “By thunder!” he gasped, in a flurry of satisfaction and joy, “we won't need them bags we brought. The super’s furnishin’ us with bags an’ makings everythin’ handy fer us. Did ye ever see anythin’ ter beat it?” “Open that bag,” ordered the leader, ‘‘and let’s make sure. We don’t want any rhinecaboo run in onus at this stage of the game.” Burdick untied the mouth of thé bag and fished out a bar of bullion. The yellow gold glinted brightly in the mingled glow of the lantern and the coming day. The leader, Thompson, and Burdick could not resist showing their exultation. But not for long did they forget them- selves, “Take the bag out,” ordered the leader, “and tie it to one of the saddles. Thompson, you bring up another bag and do the same with it. Lively, now!’ “Lively it is, Cap’n Chance,” answered Chomian | The helpless Nomad was watching all this. He saw  THE BUFFALO Burdick hurfy from the rear of the mill, and Thompson kneel down, fetch up another bag and run out after Bur- dick. While they were gone, Captain Chance dropped to his tnees and dug up four more bags. By the time he had them on the mill. floor, Thompson and Burdick were “This is all the boodle,” said Chance. “Replace the square piece of floor, Burdick, and then you and Thomp- son carry the rest of the bags out to the horses. Don't come back here... Wait for me in the chaparral.” “What are you goin’ ter do hyer?’ asked Thompson. “Pay my respects to Buffalo Bill’s trapper pard,” was the answer, with a fiendish smile in Nomad’s di- rection. “Don’t ye linger hyer too long, Chance,” warned Burdick. ‘T’d linger here to settle for this old rawhide if it was my last act,” flung back Chance, with a snap of the jaws. “No use’n Breathitt stayin’ ter watch them pris’ners any more, is thar?” queried Thompson. “T want Breathitt to help me.” “What ye goin’ ter do?” “That’s my business. After I’m through here only the Piute boy will be left of Buffalo Bill’s gang. He'll learn, I guess, that the coterie have fangs and know how to use ’em.”’ : “T got er feelin’ that somethin’s goin’ ter happen,’ muttered Thompson, picking up two of the bags. “It kain’t be possible we're ter ‘hev all this luck without no more trouble than has come our way so fur.” “Take the gifts the gods bestow—and shut your head,” said Captain Chance sternly. “You're following my lead, now, and not Snead’s.” Thompson vanished from the rear of the mill. Bur- dick replaced the square of flooring, picked up the re- maining two bags and staggered out eh them. Nomad had been mightily surprised at the uncovering of the cache. A fool place it was to hide gold-mill treas- ure! What had Hoagland been thinking of to secrete so much bullion under the floor of that ramshackle building? . While Nomad pondered and said things to himself, Captain Chance stepped toward him. “Breathitt!” he called. “I need you. Leave those men and come here.” a CHAPTER XV. THE WHEEL OF FATE. Nomad was in a state of fearful uncertainty. He was expecting Buffalo Bill, and yet the scout eee: while in coming. Something surely must have gone wrong with Buffalo 25 BICL STORMS nlans. If not, then surely he would have been at i1and to prevent the robbery. : Captain Chance knelt down beside Nomad. “You know something about me, you varmint,” said Chance; ‘‘you’ll remember, I guess, when I tell you that I used the name of Boswell, and that I’m one of the Dia- mond Coterie. Ae you pleasantly surprised ?” Twin devils lurked in the eyes of Captain Chance. His face was the face of a demon, hungry to destroy. © Nomad recalled the man, then. He would have had some forcible remarks to make, had the gag not pre- vented. ye “Tt was I,’ Chance went on gloatingly, “who sent that infernal machine to Buffalo Bill. It was Burdick who brought it to the camp and left it for the scout. The people of Hackaday had started Rickner with a package and a letter. 1 and my men captured Rickner, Burdick took his place as messenger, and I merely changed pack- ages. Buffalo Bill went out into the hills for a pasear, and he took the package with him. He opened the pack- age, old Nomad, and that’s the reason your pard did not get back to the camp. He'll never come back to the camp.” . Nomad strained at the ropes. leased one hand for a minute! “T see you are enjoying this little talk” went on Chance. “I thought you would. That’s why I am lin- gering here, when I ought to be with my men and traveling at speed for parts unknown. But I would risk even more for such a pleasant little talk. “Buffalo Bill thought that I was lacking in nerve and deterthination!” Chance laughed mockingly. “Does this work of mine show a lack of nerve and determination? Robbing a mill, in a camp like this, almost in broad day- light—almost at the time for changing shifts! But there is more, Nomad. Your other two pards, Wild Bill and the Dutchman, are also out of the running. They are famishing. for food and water, this minute, in an old, abandoned mine! I wonder, after I am through with you, if Buffalo Bill could say Captain Chance is lacking sn nerve and determination? The Diamond Coterie has suffered through the scout and his pards. But now, old varmint, it is the coterie’s turn. The wheel of fate moves slowly, sometimes, but it moves relentlessly.” | All this rush of information, this torrent of facts, - dazed the trapper. Was there any truth in the informa- tion, after all? Chance was wrong in what he said about Buffalo Bill. Might he not also be wrong in his statemerits regarding Wild Bill and the baron? Madness shone in the eyes of Captain Chance. There was not the least doubt about his brain being turned. Any human being who would plot and plan with such yenom and audacity could be nothing less than locoed. Breathitt had hurried in from the engine room and as standing impatiently by while Chance did his talking. If he could have re- WwW:  26 “Stow it!” growled Breathitt. “D’ye want us-ter git kiboshed, Chance, jest when we got a chance ter pull out with more swag than we ever seen before? Do what ye're a-goin’ ter an’ let’s hike.” “Help me lift him, Breathitt,” ordered Chance. “Take him by the shoulders.” “Whar ye goin’ ter take him?” “To the wheel, the wheel of fate! Where else?” Chance laughed hoarsely. “Destiny is working overtime in Deep Notch this morning.” “Talk sense,’ scowled Breathitt. Chance shot a look at Breathitt that caused him to ’ bend hastily and grasp Nomad by the shoulders. Between the two scoundrels the old trapper was lifted and borne to the great flywheel. “Stand him against the rim,’ said Chance, with a fiendish chuckle. “What the bloomin’ “Say, Breathitt,” and again Chance leveled a savage look at Breathitt, “I am here to ibe obeyed. Bind the varmint to the wheel.” The binding was done, quickly, effectively. The old trapper, his body bent to conform with the are of the broad rim, had his feet on the floor. Chance was crazy. Being crazy, he was equal to any- thing. Now, before many seconds had ticked away, steam would be turned into the machinery. The big wheel would begin to turn, Nomad remembered how he had seen it fly in the wheel pit all the long night through. : | If there had been an atom of the thing called fear any- where in the old trapper’s body, it would have expressed itself then by some flicker of the eyes, some dismay in the lines of the weather-beaten old face. Chance brought his gleaming eyes close to Nomad’s, searching his every feature. “He is a brave man, that is true,’ Chance mumbled, _ then whisked the gag from Nomad’s jaws. A howl of protest went tp from Breathitt. “What did ye do that fer?” He demanded. “I’ve stood fer all this foolfshness, but when ye give Nomad a chance ter yell an’ mebby spile our getaway, I object.” _ “I'm going to start the machinery, Breathitt,’” an- swered Chance. “When the machinery gets to going, what noise the varmint makes won't be heard. You can keep him from yelling until the wheel starts.” Breathitt gave a jump. “D’you mean ter say ye’re goin’ ter start that wheel?” he asked huskily, rebellion flaring in his eyes. “What else did I tie the varmint to the wheel for?” Quick as lightning, Chance stooped and picked up a crowbar from the mill floor. He faced Breathitt and held the bar threateningly. “Try to interfere with me and you won’t ride with THE BUFFALO BILL. STORIES. the, rest of us when we leave!” he threatened. “Vn going to start the engine e He was interrupted by a rush of feet across the mill floor. Breathitt whirled, and his eyes widened and his jaw fell. A like consternation had also seized upon Chance. Was this Buffalo Bill hurling himself upon the scene? The scoundrels had decided, most emphatically, that the king of scouts would trouble them no more. What had gone wrong with that package that it had failed to do its work? Breathitt, face to face with a danger upon which he had not calculated, was quick to recover his wits, One hand swung behind him. Before the hand could secure what it was reaching for, Buffalo Bill’s fist had countered the move. A ter- rific blow hurled Breathitt against the side of -he wheel. From there he dropped like a stone to the floor. With a furious cry, Chance attempted to use the crow- bar. The scout’s hand, darting at his hip, arrested the movement. “You've got the wrong number this turn of the wheel, Captain Chance!” cried Buffalo Bill; “drop it!’ Glance met glance. The savage, unreasoning gleam in the eyes of Captain Chance faded. The crowbar dropped ringing to the floor and against the wheel. The scout laughed. “You've a little more nerve and determination than I credited you with, back in Doolittle, but not much more, after all. You've a black heart and an unscrupulous mind. You can plan fearful things—if no harm is to come to you in carrying them out. Through no fault of yours destiny has come into its own at Deep Notch. But the victims of destiny, Captain Chance, are you and your men, not Buffalo Bill and pards.” The revolver came slowly from its holster. Chance quailed before the scout’s look and the drawn weapon. 7 Chance faltered, “Shoot?” said the scout; “well, yes, Chance, I’d shoot you as quick as I would a rattlesnake, if you gave me half an excuse. But you'll not give me the excuse. You're going to obey orders, because you have too much regard for your own miserable life. Release my pard from that wheel !”’ “Are—are you going to shoot Chance stepped hesitatingly toward Nomad, casting fearful backward glances at the leveled revolver. From knot to knot his trembling hands moved, casting off one piece of rope after another. “I reckoned ye’d come, Buffler,” said Nomad, “but 1 was beginnin’ ter hev my doubts. Ye was some late.” “Not a second late, Nick,” answered the scout. “But these hyar tin horns hey. > “No time for talk, now. Get some of that rope oe Breathitt before he comes to and tries to escape.’ Nomad turned, a little lamely, and picked up two sp he fic fr an We ga. sle W the ani Ty  we on VO g THE BUFFALO pieces of the rope., While he worked over Breathitt, the scout peered at Chance over the sights of his revolver. “Now, then, Nick,” said the scout, “get the lashings on Chance, otherwise Boswell, and we’ll have all the re- maining members of the coterie.” Chance turned around obediently and threw his wrists behind him. “Quite er change in Chance, all of a sudden,” said the old trapper dryly. “He’s been callin’ me er varmint. I'd like ter settle with him fer thet. Why, he’s er varmint hisself—wuss than ary four-footed varmint thet walks er crawls.” Chance had to sit down in the amalgamator’s chair while the rope was being made fast to his ankles. “What’s going on here ?” cried the voice of Hoagland from the ore loft. “Is it time for me to show myself, Bill? I haven’t slept a wink all night, I was so worked up over this business. When the stamps were hung up, I had a notion to chase down here—but I held off until now.” “It’s all right, Amos,” called the scout. “The game failed. Destiny started out after me, but switched d9 around and “My hand’s in the discard, and I’m out of the game,” spoke up Chance, suddenly arousing himself, “but I haven’t failed altogether. The bullion under the mill floor has been taken away by my men : “What!” shouted Hoagland, running down the stairs. from the loft. “Have they got away with the bullion?” “Chance thinks his men have got clear with the gold,” answered the scout, “but he’s mistaken. I have been watching every move he and his men made, from start to finish. I saw them ride into the chaparral below the gap, meet Burdick, then approach the mill on foot. Turck sleeps in the assayér’s office. I got Turck and Cayuse. When the last sack of gold was carried out and tied to the saddles, Burdick and Thompson were captured easily and without any fuss. They’re in the chaparral now, Turck and Cayuse watching them.” Chance stared as though unable to believe his ears. “Burdick and Thompson are captured?” he muttered. “Yes. Your criminal work failed all around, Chance.” “Not all around, Buffalé Bill, not all around.” A chuckle came from Chance’s lips. “Wild Bill and your Dutch pard are holed away in a deserted mine. They can’t get out. They'll starve and die unless you buy their lives from me, me.” . Chance lifted himself erect in the chair and threw back his head. The scout and the trapper exchanged astounded looks. “Is this true, Chance,” demanded the scout, “or is it a lie of yours 2” “It is true! Do you want to know my price for telling you where your pards are? There is not much time to be lost if you want to save them!” e . BILL STORIES. 27 “What is your price?” “Freedom for myself and my men. Take off these ropes and———”’ “The price is too steep. Don’t you pay it, Pard Cody.” There was a stir in the shadows under the ore loft and Wild Bill and the baron pushed into-view. Behind them came Rickner, towing a badly frightened Mexican. CHAPTER XVI. CHEATED BY FATE, This last surprise, so far as Chance was concerned, was the greatest. Fate had cheated him .all around. There was nothing left but to acknowledge defeat, and take whatever punishment the law might impose. “Well done, pards!”” exclaimed the scout. “Rickner, how is it that I find you here?” Rickner turned the Mexican over to Wild Bill and stepped forward. “Buffalo Bill,” said he, “I was commissioned by the people o’ Hackaday to go to Lone Star and hand over a mighty fine watch an’ chain, an’ a letter, to Wild Bill to be taken on to this place and given to you. Through sarcumstances over which I had no control,-I failed to find Wild Bill in Lone Star, an’ was hung up in Dry Bone Gulch. Another ombray toted the letter an’ a fake box to you. I now wish ter present the watch, an’ ter offer my regrets that a-tribute of esteem come so mighty nigh bein’ the end o’ you.” . Rickner bent over Chance and passed a hand into his pocket. He rose finally with a glittering object in his hand. “Amigo, here’s the watch,” said he. “I was tollably shore Chance had it.” The scout took the watch. _ “Nomad,” laughed the scout, “go out and call Turck. He’s as hungry to look at this watch as 1am. Tell him and Cayuse to come in and to bring with them the horses, the gold, and the prisoners.” With a loud guffaw, old Nomad ran to the rear of the mill and lifted his voice. ae The watch was a beautiful timepiece. Rickner ex- plained that it would have been presented to the scout sooner if it hadn’t been for the fact that so regal a time- piece had to be ordered from Denver. While Turck, Cayuse, and the prisoners were coming, Hoagland went out into the engine room and released his mill men. Hagan, Blake, and Rostetter flocked clam- orously into the body of the mill. “Tf that wasn’t the rawest blazer I ever seen worked,’ cried Blake. “I was downed in my engine room. Hagan hing up the stamps and yelled to me. I didn’t answer, an’ Hagan investigated. Then they downed him, as he came through the door. Rostetter heard Hagan yell an’ he come, too, an’ got the same sort of a reception. Whar  Feet spe empath paca eigen Re Ea PTS 28 THE BUFFALO old Nomad come from I] don’t know, but he soy et aan. self in the door and was pulled over backward an’ three men dropped on top 0’ him. Talk about rough house! Oh, my! I’m at a loss fer words ter tell jest how rough it raley was.” “But Buffalo Bill butted inter the game an’ saved the gold!” exclaimed Hagan. “He disappeared from camp, an’ when he came back it was with a rush!’ “Waugh!” jubilated Nomad; “didn’t I tell ye?” “What were they doin’ with you out here, Nomad?’ asked Blake. “They had Nick tied to the rim of the flywheel,’ said the scout, “and Chance was going to start the engine.” “Vat a teufel iss dot feller!” barked the baron. “He don’d vas fit to live. Dot’s vat I say, und I: know more aboudt it as anypody.” At that moment Turck appeared in the engine-room door. “What's to be done with this gold, Amos?’ he called. “It’s gone under the mill floor for the last time,’ answered Hoagland. “We'll take it up to the office. Blake, you and Hagan and Rostetter take charge of the stuff, and of the horses and prisoners. It’s pretty near time for your shift to knock off, anyway. Take the gold and the prisoners to the office and send the horses to the stable. We'll join you after a while.” The toil men left to obey orders, and Turck and Cayuse came into the mill. “Here’s something you want to see, Turck,” said the scout. “Look well at it, amigo. It came pretty near proving fatal to you, no less than to Amos and myself.” “The watch!” exclaimed Turck. “By Jove, but it’s a beauty. Well, well! DT’m glad it wasn’t in your coat when the rock rolled down on it.” “Pard,’ said Wild Bill, “how in Sam Hill did you get away from that infernal machine?’ “By a series of happenchances, Hickok,’ was the an- swer. “Cody luck stood by me, from start to finish. You were holed away in a deserted mine, [’m told, and The scout was interrupted by the breakfast horn. “That means us, friends,” said Hoagland. “Let’s re- move ourselves to the chuck shanty and get the kinks out of this tangle over our morning meal. There’s some- thing worth hearing here, I’ll bet a row of ’dobies.” Breathitt had revived, and he and Chance were sent, under strong convoy, to the office to join Burdick and Thompson. Salvador was taken by Turck to his quar- ters in the assay office, and tied to.a bunk. Over the breakfast every part of the queer complica- tion, just finished, was gone through with, detail by de- tail. Rickner, at some length, described his adventures and misadventures; Wild Bill and the baron filled in their part of the gap; Nomad described his own movements and sensations, and then Buffalo Bill dwelt upon the pe- PS a AS Ne NB SN aE IM BILL STORIES. he found out, and so, when he was joined by Chance, . &G-Beware of Wild West imitations of the Buffalo Bill Stories. : 23st fe mareneaar tay tcc MENG th GBS Nae SAS ASE ONS ao Se 5a TS SN culiar fencing with fate that had prevented him, and his _ friends, from opening the package supposed to contain the watch and chain. Hoagland sat entranced. “And Nomad,” he murmured, when all was said, “was repining because he had to spend a few days in such a quiet camp as Deep Notch! All the time you were be-_ wailing your fate, Nomad,” and he turned to the trapper, ‘Wild Bill, the baron, and Rickner were flying eagles out of the old mine and, by the cleverest dodge I ever heard of, escaping to get here and warn the scout not to look | at that particular watch. They failed, but Fate was man- aging friend Bill’s affairs.. Yes, gentlemen, this is the strangest series of events I ever heard ot in the West— and the West is the home of wonders. What will be done with the prisoners ?”’ “T and my pards,” said the scout, “will help Rickner take Breathitt and Thompson back to Lone Star. Chance is not guilty in any way for what the coterie did on the “@ trail between Hackaday and Lone Star. Chance ought @ to be handled by the law in this vicinity.” “Ill have him sent over to Wagon Wheel—our nearest base of supplies,” said Hoagland. “They can give him all the law he needs, Salvador, re ever, seems to have fallen into the hands of Burdick “Burdick will have to go with Chance to Wagon | Wheel,” interposed the scout. “Exactly; but Salvador can be given his liberty, I reckon, with a severe reprimand. He found out where I kept the gold cached, and told Burdick. Burdick, it 7 seems, has been hanging around the camp, trying to find 4 out what happened to you, Buffalo Bill. Well, he thought 4 Breathitt, and Thompson, the game was launched—and resulted in the undoing of the coterie.” “That’s it, Amos,” said the scout. THE END. Do you know what a “dog soldier” is? Little Cayuse 4 will put you wise in the next story, and in such an inter- J esting, dramatic way that you will never forget. The @ tale is a particularly good one in many respects. There | is fun in it, but the serious business piles up until old Nick Nomad is moved to remark: “Ther trouble sign is of us, Buffler, bigger'n ther side of a barn.” “Wah! You bed my life,’ chimes in the Baron von Schnitzen- hauser. But wait until you see what comes out of that trouble. The story is called “Buffalo Bill and the Pool of Mystery; or, The Hand of the Prophet’ You are advised to make sure of getting it, for it’s the sort you'll be delighted to read. Out next week in No. 477. tess a 7 ie They are about fictitious characters. The Buffalo Bill weekly is the only weekly containing the adventures of Buffalo Bill, (Col. W. F. Cody), who is known all over the world as the king of scouts. coll last trac her his hai nec anc yea scr’ jec THE BUFFALO DEVOTED T0 BORDER NEW YORK, June 25, 1910, ——— ee ane TERMS TO BUFFALO BILL STORIES MAIL SUBSCRIBERS. (Postage Free.) Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Each. RR ORT Ci era aren lis 32.50 2 copies one year.............. 4.00 1 copy two years.........505.. 4,00 65¢, 8 months ...aseen-eesemennceanae i 4 MONnthS ..sececeenenneeawetenn= 85c. 6 MODLLS ca-nnecenenerenenaewne $1.25 » Send Money—By post-office or express money order, etter, bank check or draft, at our risk. At your own risk if sent sy, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter. ) Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper iber on your label. If not correct you have not been properly hould let us know at once. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79=89 Seventh Avenue, New York change of nu credited, and s Ormonp G. SMITH, Dy, ‘ ae Proprietors, Grorcs C. Smitx, | P HAIRBREADTH ESCAPE. a month or two before the outbreak of the 1an war, one of the most promising cadets, or, as they are more commonly styled, “pupils,” of the military college of St. Cyr was Gaston de Langeais. He was the last representative Of an ancient family in Brittany, whose traditional obstinacy and impatience of control he had in- rited to an extent which rendered him more popular with es than with the presiding authorities. yy nature with an abundance of luxuriantly curling which he was inordinately vain, the prescribed having it cropped short was a perpetual criev- ) him; and he looked anxiously forward to his second year at St. Cyr, and to ‘his emancipation from the too close scrutiny to which he had hitherto been periodically sub- jected. “Tn two mates, “my Franco-G nonths,” he said exultingly, to one of his inti- time here will be up, and once named ‘officer’ e Iree as air, and no longer ashamed to show my- “to my Cousin Louise. For you see,” he added, lifting his cap and displaying a thick growth of short curls care- lully flattened down, “I still have some hair left.” Castles in the air, however, are apt to collapse; and ‘tons visionary projects were, to say the least, pre- / mornings later, at the hour of parade, the corps ters were unexpectedly summoned to underge the n of the infantry lieutenant, Bouchard, a lynx- eyed martinet, by no means favorably disposed toward pu- pils designed for cavalry regiments, whom he contemptu- ously designated as “coxeombs.” De Langeais, as the recognized leader of the band, was Particularly obnoxious to him; and his keen eye twinkled maliciously as he stopped short before the young man and “xamined him curiously. Take off your cap,” he said. : ston obeyed with an inward shiver of apprehension. | thought as much,” growled the lieutenant. “If that “Uperfiuous hair has not disappeared by this time to-morrow, ill pass the next four days in the ‘salle de police.’ o are in for it now,’ whispered his sympathizing when the terrible Bouchard had passed on.. : aoe bit of it,” replied De Langeais, shrugging his v iqeeeS. UNConcernedly. Why, what on earth can you do?” Comrade CONT BILL STORIES. “I don’t exactly know; but I intend to put off the evil day as long as I possibly can.” ‘Next morning, with the aid of a couple of brushes, well Soaked in water, he succeeded in leveling the rebellious locks so as to deceive even a practiced eye, and appeared on parade with his wonted jaunty air, although not a little nervous as to the result of the coming ordeal. Presently the lieutenant, with an ominously slow step, and pausing as before, exactly in front of Gaston, repeated the order of the previous day: corm lake. off your ap.” | “or a moment Bouchard appeared puzzled by the appar- ently smooth surface of the “pupil’s” head, but bent on ascertaining the real state of the case, he unceremoniously fted a portion of the flattened hair with his forefinger, 1ereby disclosing a substratum of tiny curls. Then. turn- to the adjutant who accompanied him, he briefly con- ed the offender for four days*to the “salle de police,” continued his round of inspection with a self-satisfied During the last day of his seclusion Gaston practically employed his leisure in decorating his knee, by a judicial mixture of blue and green paint, with a tolérably exact imitation of a bruise, which he showed to the regimental doctor, pretending that the contusion had been caused by his coming in contact with a post in the riding school. Whether he implicitly believed the statement or not, the good-natured physician put him on the sick, list, and thus twenty-four hours were gained. His reappearance on parade, however, became at length a matter of necessity, and this time his continued disobedience entailed on him a week’s further confinement, at the expiration of which he was again consigned to durance vile for an entire fortnight. “This will never do,” thought De Langeais. “The earthenware pot must in the long run be smashed by the iron one, and I shall have to give in at last. I had better try old Grison once more,” Whereupon, having previously, by way of precatition, added a few touches to the pictorial embellishment of his knee, he limped into the consulting room of Doctor Grison, who was, fortunately, too much engaged with other patients to bestow more than a very cursory glance at the bruise, and not knowing what to make of the case,: gave the new- comer an order:of admission to the infirmary, then under the charge of half a dozen sisters of charity, presided over by a lady superior. “Gaston had hardly changed his ordinary attire for the regulation loose gray coat and cotton nightcap, when Pitrot, the tonsor of the establishment, was announced, bearing an enormous pair of scissors and a laconic note, which ran as follows: E nt 4 wm — Ree a y = ~ 5 tH be ais 7 (g Ru 7Q © mp a . “The pupil De Langeais’ hair to be cut off immediately. “BOUCHARD.” The. poor coiffeur, unwilling to lose so excellent a cus- tomer. for pomade and other capillary unguents, and yet compelled to obey the imperative mandate, was in despair. ‘Would it not be possible, monsieur,” he suggested, “to obtain from the lady superior a certificate that the effect of the operation might be injurious to an invalid?” Gaston could not help smiling at the idea. “I don’t quite see,” he said, “what a cropped head has to do with a bruise on the knee, but there can be no harm in trying.” ae : As good luck would have it, Sister Angelique, in whose memory, perhaps, still lingered the fondly cherished recol- lection of some romantic episode of her youthful days, lis- tened with interest to the handsome Breton, while he related to her his; hopes and fears, and his attachment to his Cousin Louise. Being naturally kind-hearted and sympa- thetic, she agreed without much persuasion to his rather incongruous request, so that Pére Pitrot, relieved from his disagreeable responsibility, went on his way rejoicing. 30. {HE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. A quarter of an hour later the lieutenant burst into the infirmary in a paroxysm of fury. “oo, youngster!’ lie cried, “it .seéms you are bert on braving me. Well, we shall see. You cannot stay sham- ming here forever; and, mark my words—when you do come out I’ll have that head of yours as smooth as a billiard ball!” With this parting threat he bounced out of the room, and next day every one of the future crvalry officers—the prisoner alone excepted—underwent the summary opera- tion of “cropping” at the hands of the tonsor, Pitrot. Meanwhile, Gaston’s position was by no means an. en- viable one. Through the grated windows of the infirmary he could see his comrades mounting their horses ia the courtyard, and caracoling gayly as they passed, g@and on Sundays—most painful trial of all—could hear with a pang of envy the joyous shouts of his more fortunate colleagues, emancipated for a few hours from duty, and on their way to catch the first train to Paris. The day of deliverance, however, was at hand. Early on the 14th of July—a date never to be forgotten by De Langeais—the occupants of the infirmary were suddenly. startled by a tremendous uproar immediately under their windows, and, on looking out, imagined for a moment that pandemonium had broken loose. "Such a spectacle had assuredly never been witnessed at St. Cyr. The entire quadrangle was thronged by an ex- cited multitude, rushing to and fro in tumultuous disorder, flinging their caps high in the air, and bursting every now and then -gnto a loud and prolonged hurrah! Was it a revolt, Hi elon the sisters and “their patients, or what could it possibly mean? A few minutes sufficed to explain the mystery. A hasty step was heard outside the door, immediately followed by the entrance into the sick room of an adjutant, bearing in his hand an\ official document, the contents of which, re- cited by him in a sonorous voice, were greeted with an enthusiasm bordering on frenzy. ; “War is declared with Prussia. By imperial decree the seniors are henceforth sub-lieutenants.” Before the sisters, deafened by the clamor, had recovered from their stupefaction, they found themselves aloné in the infirmary, the invalids, one and all, having mustered strength’ enough to throw aside their wraps and make the best of their way downstairs. Each of the seniors entitled to promotion having notified the adjutant on duty the regiment to which he was desirous of being attached, the pteparations for departure were speedily completed. At an early hour in the afternoon the band of exulting youngsters started for Paris, intent on making the most of the three days allowed them before joining their respective corps. Gaston’s regiment being ‘stationed at Lille, he-had ample leisure, after partaking of a farewell repast at Brebant’s with his old companions, to carry into. execution his long- cherished project of paying a flying visit. to his Cousin Louise at Trouville; and, repairing on the third day to headquarters, reported himself to the colonel of the Forty- second Dragoons, who received him most cordially. “You are dispensed from duty,” ‘said his chief, “until you have got your kit in order. Ma fot, young man, you have arrived in the very nick of time, for beforé the week is out we shall be on our way to the front.’ On his first appearance at mess, De Langeais discovered, to his astonishment, that every one of his new companions, without exception, was closely cropped. “A very necessary precaution,’ said the president “in war time; the less incumbrance we carry about us the better. Ay long beard and as little hair as possible: no comb or razor wanted, nothing but a simple ‘brush up’ ” “Not to mention,” chiniéd in an old campaigner, of pro- verbial baldness, “that a heavy helmet plays the very deuce with one’s hair.” fluenced by them; and, on the arrival of his division lat pee tm sett ee nih at fa hem Gaston listened with due respect to these well-meant ex- hortations, but without the slightest intention of being in- Metz some days later, had already, more than once, declined to avail himself of the services of the regimental barber. Nevertheless, he instinctively felt that a continued refusal to conform to the general custom must inevitably endanger his popularity, and that the only way to atone for this obnoxious ~singularity was to distinguish himself by some ~exploit which might obtain for him an honorable mention in the order of the day. 3 An opportunity soon came. On the 18th of August his regiment, posted near St. Privat, behind an avenue of q poplars bordering the road to Saarbruck, had been exposed a for several hours to a galling fire of the German artillery, | and had suffered severely from an incessant storm of shells, which were beginning to set the trees on fire. The position of the French corps became untenable, and the colonel, deciding that the enemy’s guns must at any cost be silenced, ordered a small detachment of dragoons commanded by De Langeais to charge, and cut them off from the main body. ; The Germans, taken by surprise, and imaginfiie they were about to be attacked by the entire regiment, "Ceased firing, and hastily retreated, leaving one of their guns on the ee field, which Gaston, at the head of fifteen men, bore down | upon, and, sabring the gunners, carried it triumphantly into the French lines. 2 “Bravo!” cried the colonel warmly, grasping the young 4 sub-lieutenant’s hand; “you have deserved the cross for ‘this, and I will take care that you get it.” Stimulated by this first success, and eager to justify by — some further act of daring the good opinion of his chief, De Langeais neglected no opportunity of proving himself worthy of it. Dispatched on a foraging expedition and at- tacked by an outpost of infantry, he completely routed them and brought ten prisoners into the camp, and a few days later held his ground for half an hour, unsupported save | by his own men, against an entire corps of the enemy. His gallantry did not pass unrewarded. Not only was the Cross of the Legion of Honor conferred on him, but his name was three times mentioned for exceptional bravery in the order of the day, and his speedy promotion to the rank of 2 lieutenant was generally regardéd as a certainty. At this juncture the unexpected capitulation of Metz was a severe blow to him, and, unwilling to accept comparative liberty on parole, he conceived a project which, although a extremely hazardous, might enable him to join the army of 7 the Loire. His design being approved by the general com- manding under Bazaine, who intrusted Aim with a letter to his colleague, Aurelle de Paladines, informing him that the army of Prince Frederick Charles would shortly march toward the Loire, Gaston exchanged his uniform for a blouse and a peasant’s straw hat, and carrying a basket of eggs, pursued his way in the direction of the enemy’s lines. “It is a terrible task,” he thought; “but better be shot at once than rot in a German prison.” Challenged by the first man he met, and arrested on sus- picion, he was taken before the colonel of the regiment, who, — surrounded by his officers in council, scrutinized the pris- oner attentively. “Where do you come from?” he inquired, in tolerable French. “From Ladonchamps, on my way with these eggs to Grige,” was the young man’s reply. - “Are you aware that you run the risk of being treated as a spy?” pursued his interrogator. “Necessity has no choice,” retorted De Langeais. with a perfectly indifferent air. 4 During this brief colloquy, the officers glanced curiously at the stalwart individual before them, and were almost unanimously of the colonel’s openly expressed opinion that he was no peasant, but an officer in disguise, and conse- nsf nhttntacthns sonar mbt etka Dat whil Bow tr _ sipp {wet hanc by t as ¢ extt asf spec prov ing, spec shot of ¢ wou pury Ings has pro plat says eng OL ft { ota, PAeXCE paic dar the dra: by 80 1 _ toh: IS t be » of Sw: yer THE BUFFALO yently a spy. A pause boding no good to the accused en- gied, and in another moment his fate would have been _ galed, when a gray-haired major, who had been intently aring at De Langeats, suddenly rosé from his seat. "sStay,” he exclaimed, “with all submission, I think you are mistaken. This man, whoever he may be, is no officer. ' All those we have taken prisoners have been close cropped, and no one ever heard of a French soldier on active service with such a head of hair as that.” “True, the major is right,” assented several of those resent. ‘It may be so,” said the colonel, only half convinced. “and in that case he is entitled to the benefit of the doubt. Give him a’pass and let him go and be hanged somewhere else.” “A narrow escape,’ muttered Gaston to himself, as he left the camp. “LI wonder what Bouchard would say if he knew it?” A week later ottr hero reached his destination and de- livered his credentials to the general in command, by whom the grade of lieutenant was immediately conferred on him. At the conclusion of the campaign he was promoted to a captaincy, and in 1871, after the final rout of the Com- mune, married his Cousin Louise. In the following year, while on leave in Paris, he came across his old enemy, Bouchard, on the Boulevard des Italiens. “How goes it with you?” asked the latter, as they were sipping their wine together, “Admirably,” replied Gaston. “Here am I, a captain at twenty-two, chevalier of the Legion of Honor, and the hus- hand of a charming wife; and all this—no thanks to you, by the way, Bouchard—because I saved my hair.” BEAVER TRAPPING IN CANADA. years ago it was considered that the beaver, ; more than an emblem, was almost as nearly > buffalo, and in order to preserve as far few which were left, and to perpetuate the ent game laws were enacted by the various I the Dominion forbidding the hunting, shoot- trapping, wounding, or killing of any animal of the extinct aS pos species for an almost indefinite period. vas thought that in this way, even if the useful animal should never again imerease sufficiently to become an asset of any intrinsic value to the Dominion, a sufficient number Would at least be preserved for park and natural: history purposes. This plan sueceeded beyond the fondest imagin- Ings of the game guardians, for the beaver, left unmolested, has increased to such an extent throughout the various Provinces as to become quite numerous. Indeed, com- plaints are bing received by the various game guardians, ‘ays the Field, to the effect that the enterprising little engineer is doing damage to drains and lands in the vicinity Owir to the general gratification felt, however, by the guardians, as well as by sportsmen and others, over the _ excellent results of the close season, little attention has been paid to these complaints, as it was felt that the alleged damage done by damming the streams and thereby flooding ine neighboring lands will be obviated when the projected “ainage work has been completed. It is asserted that the complaints were largely originated by persons who desired the season opened for killing beaver, Y that they could make a profit from the furs. In Mani- ha the close season for beaver is indefinite, and there ; 20 intimation that a date will be fixed when they may e trapped or killed in any way. . There are many colonies ae animal in the province, on the Ochre River, in the Dau AEE district, in the neighborhood of ae pilin and along the Souris River, beaver dams being very plentiful, n Saskatchewan, no one may trap or kill beaver in any BILL STORIES. manner until December to, 1910, nor may any one during that time destroy a beaver dam. In Alberta the season is closed until December 31, 1912, while in British Columbia the beaver is immune from destruction until August 1, 1911. In Ontario, as in Manitoba, an indefinite period has been fixed for the protection of the beaver, and the result of the closed season for the last. few years is appreciably ap- parent. While in most parts of Ontario the beaver is prac- tically exterminated, in Algonquin Park they have multi- plied very rapidly. As instancing the difficulties encountered through the dams being constructed by the animals, a member of the McLachlan Mill Company, on making one of his periodical inspections of the company’s remaining timber at a point where portaging was necessary, found that the beaver had dammed the river. He decided to cut a portion out of the dam, in order to relieve the flood, and did so, placing a net across the cutting: This he found, on his next trip, repaired and the dam as before. He then placed two cross- cut saws, with the teeth pointing up the river, at the gap, which also was ineffectual, and he then placed a revolving wheel across the aperture which he had recut in order to prevent the rebuilding of the dam. On his return the wheel was completely built in, and the laborious portage had to be repeated. In sheer desperation he played his last card, and, knowing the timid nature of the beaver, he constructed a figure in the shape of a man and placed it in the centre of the aperture, where it re- mained a grotesque object for several days. On his return, to his amazement he found only the head and shoulders of the figure remaining sticking up above the completed dam. After this he gave.up endeavoring to clear the portage. JEWISH COLONIES IN HOLY LAND. From time to time various colonies of Jews have actually returned to the Holy Land. There are records of Jewish settlements there as early as 1170, and in the sixteenth cen- tury the city of Tiberias, “where only Jews were to dwell,” was rebuilt. : But it was not until comparatively modern times that the founding of regular colonies began. In 1878 the ideas of Laurence Oliphant and the Earl of Shaftesbury took defi- nite shape in the purchase of yoo acres of land by the Jews of Jerusalem and the foundation of the colony of © Petah Tikwah. After the Russian persecution of 1881, large numbers of Jews emigrated, and at the end of 1898 there were about 5,000 Jewish colonists in Palestine. HARD WORK. A gentleman residing in a village, finding that the diminu- tion of his wood pile continued after his fires went out, desired a clue to the mystery. At an hour! when “all honest folks should be in bed,” hearing a scuffling noise in the yard, he cautiously raised the window, and saw a neighbor trying — to get a large log into his wheelbarrow. “VYowre a pretty fellow,” said the owner, and steal my wood while I sleep.” “Ves” replied the thief, “and I suppose you would stay up there and see me break my back with lifting before you’d offer to come down and help me!” “to come here AS JIMMIE SAW IT. Jimmie had spent. his first day at school. : “What did you learn?” was his aunt’s question. “Didn't learn anything.” “Well, what did you do?” “Didn’t do anything. There was a woman wanting to know how to spell cat, and I told her.” x  Ce TIP TOP WEEKLY. The adventures of Frank and Dick Merriwell can ee had only. in Thirty-two pages. he most popular publication for boys. this weekly. High art colored covers. g2o—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Game; or, The Tigers of Texas. y30—Frank Merriwell’s Six-in-hand; or, The Trail to Pick- pocket. y31—Frank Merriwell’s Duplicate; or, The Trail from Ringbelt. 732—Frank Merriwell on Rattlesnake Ranch; or, The Dupe Who Became a Shark. 33—Frank Merriwell’s Sure Hand; or, The Man Who Won the Big Race. 734—Frank Merriwell’s Treasure Map; or, The Search for Buried Gold, Price, 5 cents. 735—Frank Merriwell, Prince of the Rope: or, The King Bee from Kinknot. 736—Dick Merriwell, Captain of the Vrain: or, Game to the ast: 737—Dick Merriwell’s Control; or, The Man on the Bench. 738—Dick Merriwell’s Back Stop; or, The Result of Bad Habits. cr Merriwell’s Masked Enemy ; or, The Man With the car, “ 740—Dick Merriwell’s Motor Car; or, The Wizard of the Road. 4 741—Dick Merriwell’s Hot Pursuit; or, Running Down’the Kid- nappers. * a NICK CAI _ Whe best detective stories on earth. covers. Thirty-two big pages. Price, 5 cents. 690—A Clue from the Past; or, Nick Carter’s Relentless Foe. 691—The Red Triangle; or, Nick Carter’s Three-Cornered Puzzle. 692—Doctor Quartz Again; or, Nick Carter’s Shrewdest Oppo- nent. 693—The Famous Case of Doctor Quartz; or, Nick Carter’s Most Subtle Foe. ee Clue; or, Nick Carter in Pursuit of Doctor uartz, 6o5—The Prison Cipher; or, Nick Carter Tracing a Mysterious Nick Carter’s exploits are read the world over. High art colored 696—A Pupil of Doctor? Quartz ; or, Nick Carter’s Accidental Clue 697—The Midnight Visitor; or, Nick Carter’s Teasing Mystery. 698—The Master Crook’s Match ; or, Nick Carter on His Mettle. 699—The Man Who Vanished; or, Nick Carter’s Craftiest Foe. 7o0o—The Garnet Gauntlet; or, Nick Carter Pierces a Double Mystery. 701—The Silver-hair Mystery; or, Nick Carter's Shadowy Clas 702—The Cloak of Guilt; or, Nick Carter in the Snare of His Double. 703—A Battle for a Million; or, Nick Carter’s Master Device. The heroes of the stories published in this weekly are dear to the hearts of 60,000 boys. Thirty-two big pages. splendid Western character. High art colored covers. 704—Diamond Dick’s Sparkling Signal 5 on Che Trail of the Missing Necklace. 705—-Diamond Dick’s Game of Chance; Razorback Band. v06—Diamond Dick’s Convict Chase; Delivery. 707—Diamond Dick’s Jewel Hunt; less Gem. 7e8—Diamond Dick’s Noble Exploit; or, Missed Their Mark. or, Grappling with the or, The Mysterious Jail or, The Riddle of the Price- The oo Who Diamond Dick is a Price, 5 cents. 709—-Diamond Dick’s Fire Mystery; or, Rounding Up a Rascally Band. ~to—Diamond Dick’s Adroitness; or, The Mystery of the Health Hotel. 711—Diamond Dick’s Valor; or, The Boys of Gordon Gulch. 712—Diamond Dick’s Derelict; or, The Outcast of the Ozark. “a 713—Diamond Dick’s Clever Play; or, Saving a Fortune to a. Young Aéronaut. 714—Diamond Dick’s Dory; or, Trolling for a Tartar. For sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, 1 5 cents per copy, in money or postage stamps, by G STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79-89. Seventh Avenue, New York | IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS of our Weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be 4 obtained from this office direct. us with the price of the Weeklies you want and we will send them to you by return mail. Fill out the following Order Blank and send it to POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY; . STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City. Dear Sirs: TiP TOP WEEKLY, NOS oe Poe aes. NICK CARTER WEEKLY, DIAMOND DICK WEEKLY, “ eoee eer eee oc ere eee eee eee eeeoe eee eweeeeecoeo eee cece eee oe eeneoeee eee e fame. eeeeoee oc? secee SAD ee ad CS eS Preah wc ua G Bias Spice ee wee sleiec a's CILY Suse cedeedbabeokeeeeceeucres sMlQl@.ccssscas ccs ee reco ec reo et erro ec eee eee ee eee Soodeeecevs teers bepee eee e, Baclosee: please PAN aCe EGU cree ee cents for Hae send mes ae BUFFALO BILL STORIES, NoS................ccccesceeceeeges BRAVE AND BOLD WEEKLY, ‘‘ @eeeeeeeeeoceeooeeesooeee ee e8080088   UFFALO 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. a man, as by reading the BUFFALO BILL STORIES. We give herewith a list of all of the back numbers in print. order them or they will be sent direct by the publishers to any address upon receipt of the price in money or 245—Buffalo 247—Buffalo 250—Buffalo 252—Buffalo 2538—Buffalo 254—Buffalo 256—Buffalo 258—Buffalo 264—Buftfalo 267—Buffalo 269—Buffalo postage-stamps. Bills oct s@uanrye. 63.0 5.55.56 Bills Stockade Siege...,.5,5. Bill-en.a Wone Hunts... i. +6 Bill and the Redskin Wizard,, Bill’s Bold Challenge.. Bill on’ a Desert. Trail....... Bill in Tight Quarters....... Bill and the Bandits in Black.. Bill in the Cafion of Death.. Bill and the Robber Ranch eeeeoe Bill’s Shawnee Stampede..... 348—Buffalo 349—Buffalo 350—Buffalo 351—Buffalo 352—Buffale 353—Buffale 354—Buffalo 355—Buffalo 356—Buftfalo 357—Buftfalo 358—Buffalo Bill’s Casket of Pearls...... Bis Skye Prot sucess teres Bill's “Totem”? 3.75... Bill’s Flat-boat Drift. Bill on Deck. Suisterta lollelie (are Bill and the Bronco Buster... Bill’s Great Round-up....... Bills “PlCARE ps. soe c's ac Bills: CowbeycP ard .s¢ se '« «0 Bill and the Bmigrants..,... Bill Among the Pueblos..... eo oeeece eee eee You can have your news-dealer 414—-Buffalo 415—Buffalo 416—Buffalo 417—Buftfalo 418—Buffalo 419—Buffalo 421—Buffalo 422—Buffalo 423—Buffalo 424—Buffalo 425—Buffalo ‘Bill and the Man-wolf...... Bill, the Desert Cyclone..... Bill’s Cumbres Scouts....... Bill and His Winged Pard... Bill ats Babylon Bat.. ss so st Bill'sLong Arm eo ease eG Bill’s Steel Arm Pard...... Bill’s Aztec Guide... 2.036. Bill and Little Firefly...... Bill in: the “Aztec: City. 3..2 6 Bill’’s Balloon Escape...... King 859—Buffalo Bill’s Four-footed Pards...... 426—Buffalo Bill and the Guerrillas...... 272—Butftfalo 273—Buffalo 274—-Buffalo 275—Buftalo 276—Buffalo 278—Buffalo 280—Buffalo 283—Buffalo 285—Buffalo 287—Buffalo 288—Buffalo 290—Buffalo 292-—Buffalo 298—Buffalo 298—Buffalo 299-—Buffalo 805—Buffalo 806—Buffalo 308—Bufiialo 809—Buffalo 810—Buffalo 311—Buffalo 812—Buffalo 314—Buffalo 315—Buffalo 316—Buffalo 319—Buffalo 321—Buffalo 324—Buffalo 325—Buffalo 3826—Buffalo 3827—Buffalo 328—Buffalo 3829—Buffalo 330—Buffalo 331—Buffalo 832—Buffalo 333—Buffalo 334—Buffalo 835—Buffalo 336—Buffalo ~337—Buffalo 338—Buffalo 339—Buffalo 340—Buffalo 841—Buffalo 342—Buffalo 3438—Buffalo 344—Buffalo 345—Buffalo 346—Buffalo Bill and the Pawnee Serpent. Bilin! Pele sey oe es es 6 os Bill’s Black HEagles.......... Bill in the Jaws of Death.... Bill’s Aztec Runners... Bill’s Dusky Trailers..... Bill’s Diamone. Mine.. Bill’s Scarlet Hand. Bill Running the Gantlet. ushs Bill’s Daring Plunge........ Bills: Ghost: Raid ees ssi. 6 BHT Dp awStumpn.s.. e c sk es Bill’s Master-stroke........ Bill-and the Brazos Terror... Bill’’s Dance of Death....... Bill and the Brand of Cain.. Bill’s Medicine-lodge........ Bills Desperate Dozen...... Bill and the Barge Bandits.. Bill, the Desert Hotspur.... Bill’s Whirlwind Chase...... Bill’s Red Retribution....... Bill Haunted BibtsyMicht for Miter. sci Bill’s Death Jump... Bill’s Dance with Death..... Bill’s Mazeppa Ride......... BillisaiGy pS¥2 BANG...