Lssued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. V. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 19-89 Seventh Ave., NV. Y.
Copyright, 1910, dy STREET & SMITH.

 

No. 468 NEW YORK, APRIL 30, 1910. Price, Five Cents

BUFFALO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

veceeed

 

 

 

As Buffalo Bill seized the disguised friar, the latter, with a rapid motion, threw off his cloak and
fled from the room, leaving the scout and the girl in momentary dismay.

 
 

RS
bee
& SRR Lue
ae PRs
& te

 

 

nt cern Seeman ce

 

 

 

 

 
—

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

fssued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 19-89 Seventh Ave., NV. Y.
Copyright, 1910, 6y STREET & SMITH.

 

No. 468. : %

NEW YORK, April 30, 1910.

Price Five Cents, .

 

BUFFALO BILL'S FIESTA NIGHT;

OR,

At Outs With the Baker’s Dozen.

 

_ By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.”

 

CHAPTER If.
THE RAID OF THE DOZEN. 9

“Theéte, take that!

a mask!”

A shower of rice rained down on W ild Bill Hickok.
A motley crew of Mexican haciendados, Spanish con-
quistadores, columbines, and harlequins surrounded the

Get off the street or else put on

Laramie man and pelted him with rice and struck him

with inflated bladders.

With a whoop of laughter he flung up an arm to pro-
tect his face and ducked through the cordon that sur-
rounded him.

It was the last, or Fiesta Night, of the Phenix carni-
val—a wild, tumt ultuous night, with Washington Street
crowded from end to end with a fun-loving, riotous mob.
Every one was en masque; or, if not, should have been.

_ The luckless person caught without a disguise of. some
-sort°was driven from the street just as ‘Wild Bill was

being driven.

Everything was a joke. li a person lost his temper,
he was made to suffer for it. At any other time, if a
person had walked up to Hickok and slammed a bladder
full of dried peas in his face, there avould have been

_ fireworks; but now he entered into the spirit of hilarity

that had gripped the town by the throat. All he wanted
to do was to protect himself and get out of the way.
For half a block the Laramie man was chased; then

he jumped around a dark corner into a cross street, and

Wild Bill.

i

his pursuers left him alone and went looking for another
victim.

“By gorry,’ chuckled Wild Bill, “there’s a bushel of
rice, more or less, down the back of my neck. I'll have
to go somewhere and stand'on my head in order to
shake it out of my clothes.”

Pulling off his sombrero, he dumped half a peck of the
stuff from his hat brim, then shook himself and threw
off the white grains like so much water. While he was
at work, some one touched his arm.

“Wild Bill!” exclaimed a voice. ¢

The Laramie man whirled. It was too dark to see
much of his interrogator, but Hickok could see that the
man was in some sort of a costume.

“You've got the bulge on me, neighbor,’ returned
“You ve called the turn on my label, but the
handle you tote is too many for me.’

“Bly, deputy. sheriff,? whispered the
“Where’s Buffalo Bill?’

“Pass the ante. He’s mixed up in that, locoed gang
in Washington Street somewhere, but I don’t reckon
you could find him with a search warrant.”

“Disguised ?”

“Not at last accounts; but maybe,’ and Wild Bull
chuckled. grimly, “he’s. thought better of it by now.”

“Well, come with me. I’ve got to see you on business.’’
+ “Business? On’ Fiesta Night? Say moo and chase
yourself! Nobody thinks of business at a time like this.”

“Nobody but officers of the/law. This is important.

apparition.

Hickok !”

 
    

 

 

 

  
  
  

a Pace tne a paranlpeaanl A PO ET at

THE BUFFALO

“Oh, well, if there’s excitement back of it, I’m not
going to step high, wide and handsome to get away from
it. Lead on, my festive deputy, but don’t steer me back
in the main street.”

‘The deputy turned, walked a dozen steps along the
dark cross street, passed through a door into a dimly
lighted corridor, then passed through another into a
sinall, square room furnished with a table and two chairs,
The officer turned up the wick of a low-burning lamp on
the table and faced around.

Hickok, who had come tight at his heels all the way
from the street, saw a swaggering fellow in galligaskins,
huge jack boots, a felt hat with a brim a foot wide and a
turkey feather in the crown, a short jacket and a sash
about his middle supporting an arsenal of ancient pistols
and toad stickers.

“Suffering Sarah!’ muttered Wild Bill.
you're a bloodthirsty specimen, Bly.”

‘Never mind that,” grinned Bly, laying aside his
half mask. “Sit down so’s I can talk with you. There's
hot work on for to-night, and Bangham, the sheriff,

“Say, but

-wants the scout and his pards to help.”
“That sounds good,” returned Wild Bill, sinking into

a chair. “I hope it’s a fair shake and no false alarm.
What's to pay?” -

“Bangham, and two or three other men, are out hunt-
ing for the scout and his compadres,’ went on Bly.
‘Have you heard of Baker and his Dozen?”

“Never.”

“Well, I don’t wonder. They haven’t inhabited this
part-of the country much. They're pretty new to Bang-
ham and the rest of us. The sheriff found a letter on his
desk, about,an hour ago, and it’s that that has stirred us
up. The letter was in a woman’s hand. I haven’t the let-
ter with me, nor a copy of it, but my memory is pretty
good. A fellow named Baker got out of the Yuma pen,
several weeks ago, and every officer in the Southwest has
been on the lookout for him. According to this letter,
this same Baker is loose in Phenix to-night.

“With him are a dozen card sharps, fan-tan gamblers,
and monté thieves, all bent on making a raid of some
kind, under the cover of the carnival, and then. getting
away. What the raid is to be the letter didn’t state.
Bangham wants to nip it in the bud before it’s pulled off,
and lay Baker and as many of the Dozen as possible by
the heels. Consequently, he needs all the help he can
set.”

“IT see,” returned Wild Bill, deeply interested. ‘It
strikes me, though, that Bangham and the rest of you
fellows are up against a hard proposition. This Baker
and his Dozen, I take it, are in disguise, same as all those
other hooting, tooting maskers in Washington Street.
How are you going to spot the convict and his men
until they do pull off their raid?”

“Well, the letter on the sheriff’s desk tells how the
outfit is going to be disguised.”

“Ah! Now you're getting down to brass tacks.”

“According to the information contained in this letter,
Baker, and one or two more of the gang, are to be
costumed as friars and wear long, hooded cloaks.”

LL SOG, :

“Two or three more are to wear pirate rigs, like this
Oramine ’ 7 :

eu

aden

BILL STORIES.

“And some more of the dozen will be Spanish conquis-
tadores.”’ ;

“Buenos! Why have you got on a pirate rig ?”

“Why, in the hope that a friar, or another pirate, or a
Spanish conquistadore will speak to me and give me a
tip: regarding Baker and the plans he has in mind.”

“Fine-o,.”

“You see, Bangham considers it absolutely necessary
that this Baker is captured. He was sent up for life, for
killing a man over in Harqua Halas. He is desperate to
the last degree, and if he can be run to earth, the activi-
ties of the rest of the Dozen will probably be given a
deathblow.”

“That sounds reasonable. But you say that two or
three of the gang are dressed as friars. How are you
going to know when you get the right friar?”

“Why, by playing off on the friar that speaks to me.
Suppose a man, in that sort of disguise, should give me
a tip without letting out a whisper as to who he was, or
where Baker can be found. I’d shadow the friar. When
I made sure of him, I’d nab him.”

“Keno. Who are in the gang?”

“Greasers, chinks and Americans.”

“Sort of an international combine, eh?. And they'll all
look more or less alike on this Fiesta Night. What's
for me to do?”

“You'd better get into this rig of mine, Wild Bill.
Vil get another. Then you can get into the crowd on
Washington Street, look out for friars, conquistadores,
and other pirates, and also try to discover the scout and
the rest of his pards and tip them off as to the work
on hand. If you nail anybody, bring your prisoner to
the sheriff's office in the jail. The main thing Bangham
wants, however, is to capture Baker.” :

“Correct. Peel off those buccaneer togs and I’ll pro-
ceed to make a pirate out of myself. I can wear all my
usual clothes and put my hat inside my coat, but what
am I going to do with my boots?”

“They'll be Safe in this room,” answered Bly. “This
is a pfivate wine room in the rear of the Buena Vista
gambling hall, and it has been reserved for the use of
law-and-order>men. Any property you may leave here
will be safe.” ae

Bly was already stripping. Wild Bill, pleased with
the work ahead of him, crumpled up his sombrero and
put it in the breast of his coat. Then he pulled off ‘his
boots. As fast as Bly took off a piece of his costume,
the Laramie man put it on. ; a

The short, baggy breeches, the coat, the sash, and the
arsenal of ancient weapons wete duly donned. .

“Suppose,” remarked Wild Bill as he worked, “that
that letter on the sheriff's desk is only a joke?” :

“Bangham thought of that,” returned Bly, “but the

letter rings true, and doesn’t sound like a joke. Any-

how, we're chancing it. When last heard of, Baker was
in this part of Arizona. That, of course, makes the infor-
mation contained in the letter look reasonable,

“A woman wrote it, you say?”

“It’s in a woman’s hand.”

“Then I reckon it’s no joke. But, no matter. what
the game, I’m with you.”

“Bangham knew he could count on the scout and his
pards.”

When Wild Bill had got into his jack boots and his

big hat with the trailing feather, and had put the halt

 

 

 

 
   

 

 

     

    

THE BUFFALO

mask in place, his imitation of the skull-and-crossbones
sea rover was all that could be desired.

“Tm off,” he chuckled, moving toward the door. “If
there’s anything to happen, Bly, you can*gamble a blue
stack it’ll happen to me.”

“Take care of yourself,
deputy.

Hickok gave a light laugh, opened the door, and van-
. ished,

that’s all,” cautioned the

CHAPTER II.
THE MEXICAN WITH A ae ACCENT,

Near the corner of Second Avenue and Washington
Street, a crowd had collected around a boxing bear. The
bear was a big “cinnamon,” and wore a muzzle to keep
him from using his teeth, and a pair of boxing gloves to
keep him from using his claws.

The owner of the bear was dressed in paint, feathers,
and buckskin, representing a specimen of the northern
Sioux. But the brogue he used in exploiting the trained.
bear was vastly different from the grunts, whoops and
falling inflections of the speech of the Dahkotahs.
_“F’r two bits, ladies an’ gintlemin, any wan av yez can
box wid Gin’ral Jackson. ‘Ay yez knock him out, yez git
a goold piece to the amount av twinty dhollars; av he
knocks yez out, begory yez git a sore head. Who's th’
_nixt happy mon t’ put on th’ gloves wid Gin’ral Jackson?’

“Py shiminy Grismus, I vill take a leedle oof dot mein-
seluf! Oof I can’t knock dot pear oudt, I vill call mein-
seluf a pack numper und nefer do some more poxing mit
anypody.”

A fat little man in Mexican clothes that were too big
up and down, and too narrow the other way, shoved to
the front, and stood holding out his hands for the gloves.

“Glory be!’ cried the Sioux Indian. ‘“Oi’m a Fenian
av this scrapper ain't a grayser wid a Dootch tonere | in
his head !7

“Pedder dot,” returned the other, his eyes nets
through the holes in his mask, “as some Inchuns mit talk
like an Irisher feller. Pud on der gloves und see me
knock der pear py der mittle oof next veek.”

The prospect made the crowd delirious with joy. The
Dutchman, as soon as the gloves were put on his hands,
waltzed up to the bear and tapped him on the nose.

General Jackson seemed to have been in a somnolent
condition, but that rude touch caused him to brace back
and take notices He sniffed, and with one padded paw
fanned the air in front of his face.

“Vat’s der madder mit Cheneral Chackson ?”’ jeered the

Dutch. greaser. “He iss so keviet.as a Suntay school
bicnic. I vill haf him on der mat in doo minids.”
_ Dancing in again, the little fat man gave the bear a
ringing slap on the right ear. Then the bear grunted,
rose up on his hind legs, and fell on the Mexican with
the Dutch accent like a thousand of brick.

The little man was batted first to one side and then
to the other. As he reeled to the left, a paw caught him.
and sent him reeling to the right. The bear seemed to
be juggling with him. Suddenly General Jackson” gave
his antagonist a straight-out hit, knocking him into the
air, and landing him in the middle of the crowd with
a back somersault.

A grunt was jolted out of the Dutchman as he struck,

BILL STORIES. 3

 

the’ street:

His mask was jarred off and his Mexican
clothes were more or less demoralized. i

He sat up, under the bright, overhead street light,
rubbed his forehead east and looked around.

Pit any pody else ged hit’ mit der eart’quake?’”’ he in-

quired; “‘oder vas it a cyclone, oder schust a plock oof
brick puildings dumpled ofer on me? Oh, see der lights,
der pooty pright lights!”

A roar Ol laughter surged through the crowd. Some

‘one picked the hazy Dutchman up and set him on his

feet, then grabbed his arm and rushed away with him.
The Dutchman didn’t know who had him, or where he
was being taken. He merely resigned himself passively,
went ahead, made turns, and finally was pushed into a
chair.

Then he started, fubbed his eyes, and looked around
with some realization. He was in a small room—a room
lighted by a lamp and containing a table and two chairs.
In front of him stood a man in a helmet with a steel
cotselet over his breast. About his waist was a belt, and
from the belt hung a sword. -This individual was just
removing a mask.

“You are Villum von Schnitzenhauser, pea the -

baron, hey?” inquired the man.

“Yah, so,’ murmured the baron, “aber I peen more
as dot. I peen some fools to dry und pox mit a pear.”

“You're a pard o’ Buffler Bill’s ain’t ye?’

“All. der times”

“T thought I reckernized ye the minit yer mask come
off; so I grabbed ye, an’ rushed ye in hyer fer a quiet
tall.”

“Who you vas, yourseluf?
talk mit me?”

“My name’s Sproul. I’m a deperty sher’ff. The
sher’ff. an’ his deperties are all out lookin’ fer the king
of scouts and pards ter-night.”

“Vy iss dot?”

“There’s business on, an’ Bangham, the sher’ffi, needs
help.”
~ “So?” The baron slapped his chest to waken himseli
up. “Vat iss der pitzness? Tell me.”

Then, as Bly had already talked to Wild Bill, so
Sproul talked to the baron. He told him about Baker
and his Dozen; about Baker’s escape from Yuma:
about the raid the gang was intending to make during
the Fiesa Night; about the necessity of capturing
Baker and as many of the gang as possible ; and about
the disguises the lawless persons were using.

“This disguise 0’ mine,’ added Sproul, “is that of a
Spanish conquistadore. [ was wearin’ it hopin’ some oO’
the gang would see me an’ put me next ter where I could
find Baker. I'll give ye this here disguise, an’ take
yourn; then ye kin go out an’ find some o’ the gang yer-
self. Also, if ye see Buffler Bill an’ any of his pards,
give ‘em a tip as ter what we're tryin’ ter do. Sabe?”

“Yah,” chuckled the baron, “you bed my life I savvy.
I peen so glad as I can’t Say dot der pear knocked me
ofer. Oof dot hatn’t habbened, den you vouldn’t haf
foundt me, und I vouldn’t be doing someding to helup
run down der Paker’s Tozen. Eferyding habbens for
der pest in dis vorld. Gif me dot tisguise, und I vill
gif you der vone vat I got on.’

As he spoke, the baron began getting out of his
greaser clothes. Sproul put the helmet over his head
and buckled on the rusty corselet.

For vy do you vant to
     

SE ae

4

THE BUFFALO

The baron was father thick for this medizval armor,
and when breastplate and backpiece came together, he
was badly squeezed. But he did not complain. The
prospect ahead of him was so alluring that he would
have submitted without a murmur to discomforts a
dozen times more trying.

Sproul pulled up the belt around the baron’s waist and
hung on the swortl. The sword was so long that the
point of it dragged on the floor:

Lastly, Sproul fastened to the baron’s heels long, an--

cient- -looking spurs. ‘There were no rowels on the spurs,
but the ends were merely ground to sharp points.

“There you are,” said the deptty sheriff, standing
back and surveying the baron with a grin.

The plume of the helmet was swishing in the baron’s
face. He slapped it away and peered at Sproul.

“Vat for you take some latighs?” he inquired.

“T was laffin’ ter think what would happen if ye ever
got a whack at one o the Dozen,” explained Sproul.

“Vell,” returned the baron diffidently, “I bed you T
vould go droo der whole Tozen like a virlvind.” He
walked. up and down the room, rattling like a pile of
scrap iton. “T peen a Spanish gonkvistator, hey ?”

“That’s what it’s called, baron.”

“T feel like a lod oof boiler plate, und——¥—”.

The long sword swung in between the baron’s legs,
and tripped him. He pitched forward over a chair and
rolled to the floor like a human rattlebox. When he
tried to get up he jabbed himself with the long spurs.

Sproul gave him a hand and helped him. to gain his
feet.
~ “Ach, vat a lod oof shtuff for a man to’ vear!’ mut-
tered the baron.

“It'll come easy fer ye when ye git used ter it,” en-
couraged Sproul.

“Meppyso. Now, tell me vonce: 1 moost go oudt
indo der shdreed und look for some friars, some birate
fellers, und some oddet mens fixed oop like vat'I was,
hey ?”’

That's it. Be.eareful, baron. Ifa friar, er a pirate,
er an old Spaniard whispers to ye’ an’ gives ye a tip
tegardin’ Baker, mind ye play it up tight an’ proper.’

“Lean de dot, you ‘bed my lite! Dots, easy, for 4
bard of Puttalo: Pils, : oe)

“An don’t ye fergit, baron,’ went on Sproul, “that
yere ter look ter the scout an’ the rest o’ his pards.
If ye find ‘em, tell ‘em jest what I’ve told you about
this Baker an’ his Dozen. Get the hull possey ter huntin’
fer the gang. Between you fellers, an’ us from the
sher’ff’s office, | reckon we kin lay Baker by the heels.”

r Vell, dohea. you)?

“It won't be no easy job, though. Jest remember that.
On a night like this, when half the people in town are
masked, it’s some difficult to mingle with the mob an’
pick out Baker and his gang.”

“Vell, ve know how dot Paker féMer ynd der Tozen
vill be rigged oudt mit clothes, und dot makes it easy.’

“There’s plenty o’ chance fet trouble.”

“Vat a habbiness to hear you say-dot! Anyding vat
has drouple mixed oop in it iss some bleasufes for der
sgout und his bards. Nodding iss vort’ vile vat comes
easy. Der harter vat a t’ing iss to do, der more vat I
like to do it. Yah, so. Subbose I grap holt oof. dis
Paker—vat shall I do mit him?”

 

chance you will have for success.

I

BILL STORIES.

“Why,” said Sproul, “bring him to the  shet’ff’s
office at the county jail.”

“Meppy you see me dere pefore lorig alretty.
ged shdartet | vas a rekular cyclone.”

“Well, baron, the quicker you get started the inore
Im going out and

Ven |

see what more | kin do.”
“Dot’s me, on der chump.”

The paren rattled to the door, and then dhanleed ahd |

rattled his way into the side street. The fun in Wash-
ington Street was growing fast and furious, a perfect
bedlam of mirth resounding all up and down the thor-
oughfare.

“Now for pitzness,’ muttered the baron, picking up
the long sword an@ carrying it in front of him, “now for
pitzness, vich iss, ad der same dime, a bleasure. Vat iss
a ftiar, anyway? Und how vill I know vone ven I see
tr

CHAPTER III.
IN THE PALACE OF CHANCE;

Buffalo Bill, not caring to don a mask and take part
in the riotous fun of Fiesta Night, escaped the rice and
the inflated bladders of the street by dodging into a
gambling resort known as the Palace of Chance.

Here he found plenty to claim his attention,

On Fiesta Night it was the custom-of the ladies of
Phenix, their identities safely hidden under mask and
domino, to visit the various gambling resorts and gratify
a curiosity to see the tiger in its lair. Gentlemanly ush-
ers met the fair maskers at the broad street door artd
showed them around, explaining the mysteries of tou-
lette, faro, keno, draw poker, and the various other
games. More than one of the disguised ladies, ttnable to
resist temptation, patised at some lay out and recklessly
wagered. Thus was some profit returned to the gam-
blers for keeping “open house.”

The scout, withdrawn in a quiet corner, listened to
the cracked piano and the cracked voice that accom-
panied it, to the hum of voices, the rattle of chips and
the drone of the ball in the whirling wheel,

The comments of the masked ladies amused the scout.
Some of the fair ones wete evidently familiar with a
few of the gatnes and feeded no coachifig in making
their plays.

“Tf io oné ktiows us,’ mused the scout, ‘“ a whole lot
of thiigs cottie easy for us to do which we wouldn't
think of doing if our identities were plain. That’s a coin-
mefit on hutnan nature that’s not at all flattering. Now,
for instancé, take that woman in the witch regalia. She
acts as thotieh she was scared to death. Such a person
ought never to have come here.”

The witch’s gown, with its pointed hood, clothed a
slender, graceful figure. The figure fluttered back and
forth as though half aftaid and half ashamed to be. in
such a place.

Evidently the masker was young, and becatise of that

“cc

-and “because of her manner, she caught and held the

scout’s. attention. Wherever the witch moved through

the jostling throng the scout’s eyes followed her.
Most of the ladies who visited the Palace of Chance,
that evening, came in parties; but this witch was alone.

Ps aS

 

 

 
 

 

 

LHE BUPFALO

‘The fact that there was no one with her may have

explained her timidity and frightened air.

Here and there the witch fluttered. At. last the scout
saw her pause and stare fixedly at some one in front
of her. The person at whom she stared was a man—a
man in the cowl of a friar.
enwtapped in his costume that only his gleaming eyes
were visible. They were not eyes to inspire any one’s
confidence.

As the scout watched, his interest growing by leaps
and bounds, he saw something like a shudder pass
through the slender form of the witch, The friar started
toward her, evidently with the intention of speaking.
The witch evaded him and tried to get past him and
reach the street door.

The crowd was so dense, in the front part of the
gambling establishment, that the witch could make no
headway against it. Giving up the attempt to reach the
street, the girl whirled and glided towafd the rear of
the long room—this tove bringing her nearer and
nearer-the scout.

She came so close that he caught a glimpse of her
eyes, atid in them he tead a deadly fear. He was on
the point of springing up and offering the girl the
protection of his sttong arm, when she turned abruptly
atid passed through a door in the side wall of the room.

This door, the scout knew, led imto a small wine
room, whete people sometimes went to play and drink
in private. The girl, it seéitied to him, had entered the
room with the mistaken impression that it might lead
her out of doors. The door closed behind the slender
form and the scout turned his eyes upon the friar. The
man had his gaze“fixed on the door and stood as though
debating some question in his mind; finally, with a
cautious glance around, he moved upon the door and
laid hold of the knob.

The door did not yield readily. There was no bolt
nor key to fasten it, but seemingly the witch was trying,
with all her frail strength, to hold it shut.

The ftiar pushed sharply: The doot gave under his
strong hand, and Buffalo Bill caught a fleeting glimpse

oF the witch hurrying away. Then the friar closed the
“ door.

By then the scout had started to his feet.

What sort of drama was being enacted: beliind that
closed door? he asked himself. Who were this witch
and this friar? And why was the witch afraid’ of the
friar and trying to avoid him?

Perhaps the matter was none of the scout’s btisiness.

_ Nevertheless, a woman in distréss always appealed to

hit; and, certainly, this witch was in some deadly fear
of the friar.

Assuming a careless air, the king of scouts satititered
toward the closed door and stodd there.

He heatd a mumble of voices, his keen éar readily
distinguishing them from the babble of sotind in the
gambling hall. Ofle was the man’s voice, atid the other
the woman’s. The mati’s voice was harsh and tliteat-
enifig, and the woman’s trenitilous and a bit defiaiit.

Then, suddenly, there was a sotind of a qitick tmove-
ment, followed by a stifled scream.

No other, in the big gambling hall, heard that stub-
dtied cry. ‘It remained fot Buffalo Pill alone to act.
Nor did he hesitate. -

SNA Sal te A

So closely was the man.

i A TTR Te oe en nab teint on ay es

BiLE STORIES. . : as

Catching the knob, he twisted it and quickly threw
open the door.

What he saw, when the interior of the little room lay
under his eyes, was enough to fire his blood.

The witch was pressing fearftilly back against the far-
ther wall. In front of her stood the friar, his arm lifted
and a quirt with rawhide thongs in his raised ‘hand, °

The girl cowered under the threatening lash, and a
wild cry rang through the room.

While the scream was still on the girl’s lips, Buffalo
Bill flung himself through the door and caught the
friar’s uplifted arm.

The man had been so wrapped up in his brutal work
that the entrance of the scout had not been heard. As
his hand was caught, he struggled around and gave a
savage look at the intruder.

“You'll not strike the girl,” said the scout. “Drop that
quirt, you cur, or Ill lay it over your own shoulders.”

With a most unfriar like oath, the man flung down the
whip, wrenched himself clear of the scout’s hand, and
leaped through the door, leaving his dark ams behind
him.

Buffalo Bill took a couple of steps in pursuit of him,
but a call from the girl drew him back.

TNO, Gh het him go—don’t follow him.”

“All right,” answered the scout, “if that’s the way you

want it. I don’t care to pry into your affairs, young
lady, but allow me to say that this is hardly the place
for you. If you wish, I'll see that you get safely to your
home.’

‘“‘My home,’ was the dejected answer, “is no safer for
me than this place—nor as safe.”

There was evidently a skeleton in the family closet.
The scout was puzzled as to what he should do next.

“Vd-like.to help you, if I can,” said he, “but 1 dont
want to force my services upon you. I’ve been watching
you for some time, out there in the big room, and it
struck me as though you were a little out of your ele-

ment. Even if you don’t go home, you had better leave
here,”
The girl dropped into a chair. She was calmer now,

and seemed to be thinking deeply.

“Will. you tell me your name?’
eyes to the scout’s.

“Cody,” he answered.

The eyes brightened,
ure.

“Not Buffalo Bill?” she returned.
_ “The same,” he smiled, bowing,
your . service,’:

The chivalrotis manner of the king of scouts still fur-
ther added to the girl’s confidence. She ptt out her
hand. :

“IT eouldh’t have asked for better fortiine than this!”
she exclaimed. “You say that yott want to help me.
Buffalo Bill, I ain going to put you to the test.”

He took the small hand in a reassuting clasp.

“T think,” said*he, “that you. will find me equal to the
test. What is it?” |

“My frame is Baker,” went on the gitl, “Bessie Carme-
lita Baker. My parents are dead, and the man you just
saw in here used to be my guardian, He is a distant
relative, and his nate is also Baker.’ She leaned for-
ward and dropped her voice to an ominous whisper.
“Two years ago,” she added, “he killed a man over in

she asked, lifting her
gleamed with unexpected pleas-

“and very much at

at a IP rE TO IRE
ae omer ES ea so dated Sea

on
i

 
RR TTT

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6 | THE BUFFALO.

the Harqua Hala Mountains, ang he was sent to the
Yuma penitentiary.
the officials in Arizona’are looking for him.”

BE that, is the case, then——-”

The girl lifted her hand restrainingly.

“Please wait, Buffalo Bill. Last night Lorenzo Baker
came to“the house where I live with old Manuelita, who
has been my nurse and foster mother ever since I was
a child. He came to the house, locked me in a room,
and, with several other men, planned lawless things for
to-night, during the fiesta. _Manuelita heard them plan-
ning, and she contrived to let me know about it. Lor-
enzo Baker, and the rest, thought Manuelita had run
‘away without recognizing Baker. But she hadn't run
away; she had hidden herself in the house.”

“With whom was Baker plotting?”

“Why, with Mexicans, Americans, and Chinamen, Buf-
falo Bill, It seems to be an organized gang. Baker
called them, so Manuelita said, his Baker’s ‘Dozen.’”

“What are they intending to do?”

“Tl don’t know, Buffalo Bill, but I do ie theycare
planning something desperate. AT the gang are to bé
disguised. Two or three will be dressed as friars; then
there will be two or three pirates, and ancient Span-
iards.”

An idea seemed suddenly to strike the girl. Jumping
up from her chair, she ran to the door, which Baker had
left open, and closed it.

“You are a brave man, Buffalo Bill, Pee went on,

turning toward him, her eyes sparkling withSexcitement :
“everybody knows of your daring and your success. I[
have a plan to propose. If you will agree to it, you
can do a great stroke for right and justice. Will you
listen to me, and accept a suggestion which I have to
offer ?”’

CHAPTER IV.
THE SCOUT TAKES A DISGUISE.

T Betore you offer any suggestions, Miss Baker,’’ said
the scout, “there is something else we ought to do, and
without delay.’

“What is that?” the.girl inquired.

“Why, if this Lorenzo Baker is an escaped convict, he
must be run down and captured. The longer we delay
notifying the authorities, the harder will be the work of
apprehending the fellow.”

“The suggestion I’m going to make is about that. A
slight delay will not matter.”

“All right, then.” The scout sat down.
Miss Baker.”

“I want to tell you first,’ proceeded ,the girl, “that I
have already notified the sheriff that Lorenzo Baker is
in Phenix, that he has a gang with him called the
Baker’s Dozen, how the members of the gang are to be
disguised, and that they aré planning lawless work of
some kind during this Fiesta Night.” «

“You say you told the sheriff that!”

“No, I wrote the sheriff a letter. The letter wasn’t
signed, for I didn’t want Lorenzo Baker ever to find out
that I had told: the officers about him. He—he would
kill me if he ever knew that.
to the sheriff's office and dropped it on his desk.
one saw her.”

‘““Go ahead,

Manuelita took the letter
No

He escaped from there, and all’

 

BILL STORIES.

“although it
would have been better, Miss Baker, if you had gone
to the sheriff personally and had a frank talk with him,
It is quite possible that he will not pay any attention to
an unsigned letter.”

The girl looked startled.

“Tt’s his duty to pay attention to it, isn’t it?” she asked.

“That was right,’ approved the scout,

“It’s his duty to act according to his judgment. Not
many of us pay much attention to anonymous communi-
cations. When Baker and his Dozen ‘left your house, -
I suppose Manuelita_let you out of the room. in which
you had been locked?”

Admiration crossed the girl’s face.

‘“Manuelita is old,” said she, “but she is very brave.
Baker left a Mexican to watch the house and make sure
I didn’t get away. He had a bottle of pulque and he
drank until he was sleepy. While he slept, Manuelita
took the key of the room from his pocket and let me out.
Then we both ran from the house as fast as we could.”

“Where did you go?”

“To a house owned by one of Manuelita’s friends, in
the Mexican quarter.”

“Why didn’t you-stay there, Miss Baker? Why did
you leave the Mexican quarter and go roaming around ?”

‘Why, because Manuelita was afraid that Lorenzo
Baker, or some of his gang, would find out where we
had gone and come after me. Manuelita got this dis-
guise and told me to go out into Washington Street.
She thought I was safer in the town as a witch than I
would be in the Mexican quarter.” @

The scout could scarcely restrain a smile at the false
logic of Manuelita. The old Mexican woman’s fears
had run away with her ae

“Well,” went on the scout, “even %o, Miss Baker, it
would have been better for you if you had stayed in
Washington Street and not have come into this gam-
bling hall.”

“TI was obliged to come into the gambling hall, Buffalo
Bill?’

“How so?”

“Why, I saw the friar on the sidewalk in front. I knew
Baker was to be in a friar’s costume, and I thought he
had heard of my escape from the house and had come

looking for me.”

“As soon as you saw him you hurried in here?”

Ves. 39

“Then Baker saw you running from him and suspected
that yOu were his former ward. Probably, if you had
not tried to avoid him, he would never have known.”

“That may be so,” admitted the girl, “but I was so
scared I thought of nothing but getting away from him.”

“When Baker came into the gambling hall,” continued
the scout, “your actions still further aroused his sus-

‘picions.”

“I suppose you are right,’ breathed the girl; “but I
couldn’t help acting the way I did. When I came
through that door I ‘hoped it would let me out at the rear
of the gambling hall, and my heart sank when I found
I was in a little room and couldn’t lock the door. 1
tried to hold it against him, but I wasn’t strong enough.
He recognized me the moment he got in here, and he
was in such a rage that he wv rould have lashed me with

his quirt had you not come.’

yin

“How did he happen to have the quirt with him?
quired the scout.

 

a el

 

 
‘crossed her face,

fifteen minutes.

 

 

 
  

SE a gee Se PS Se EM a ec I Be oe Aes eee Nes pte be

THE BUFFALO

“T don’t know, Buffalo Bill.”

“That would seem to indicate that he and his gang
have horses waiting for them somewhere, and that “they
are to make a run for it as soon as this raid they are
planning is finished.”’

The scout stooped down and picked up the quirt. It
was the ordinary sort of quirt, with a short handle, a
thong loop for the wrist, and half a dozen strands of
buckskin. But the end of the handle, where it was
pierced for the loop, was heavily weighted and made a
dangerous weapon.

“I suppose,” said the girl, “that Baker will not stay
in Phenix long after he and his gang carry out their
evil intentions; but I hope,’ and an expression of fear
“that the sheriff will be able to capture
Baker before he can get away. He suspects me, now,
and if he is not captured I should not feel safe a min-
ute,

“Don’t worry about that,” returned the scout reassur-
ingly. “I and my pards will look out for you. But
what was the suggestion you were going to make? I
feel as though I should like to be on the trail of this
man Baker myself.”

“That is in line with the suggestion I was going to
make, Buffalo Bill. J believe you can do more to cap-
ture Baker than any one else.” She bent down and
picked up the friar’s robe from the floor. “Why not put
this on?” said she. “The main thing, now, is to locate
Baker. The rest of the gang, knowing he wears such a
costume, might speak to you and give you some sort of a
clue to Baker’ s whereabouts.”

“Good!” exclaimed the scout, pleased with the clever
suggestion.. “If you had trusted more to your good
sense anid less to Manuelita’ s advice, things would have
gone better with you.’ ‘

Crushing his sombrero together, the scout placed it
in the breast of his coat; then he got into the friar’s
gown and drew the hood over his head.

“Will I pass?” he queried, pulling the robe together
in front of his face.

“Good!” murmured the girl. “No one could tell——
A tap fell on the door at that moment. The girl
broke off her words in a panic, and flew to the scout’s
side, as though for protection.

“Tf that is Lorenzo Baker,” she whispered, ‘‘I-—I

“Lorenzo Baker would not knock in’ that way,’ an-
swered the scout. “I wish it was Baker, for in that
event, I can promise you he would be in the jail inside of
But no such good luck. He’ll not come
back to this Palace of Chance.”

The scout stepped to the door and threw it open.

a?

 

Little Cayuse, his Pinte boy pard, pushed into the room.

The scout laughed and Little Cayuse gave a grunt of
satisfaction.

ay here have you come from, boy? asked the scout.

“All same out there,” and Cay use W aved a hand in the
direction of the gambling hall, “Me see um Pa-e-has-ka,
watch um. Pa-e-has-ka come here. Man come out,
heap mad. Pa-e-has-ka stay long time. Me no sabe
why. Come in so me sabe. Ugh!’
_ Cayuse wore his usual natty costume of trim buck-
skins, medicine.bag at his girdle, and eagle feather in
his black hair. :

‘IT reckon, Cayuse,” smiled the scout, “that everybody
on the street thinks you're white and painted and rigged

99

39

ee

a MS ni ae ihe te eee tea any ed

BIL STORIES, 7
out in Indian togs. You got,here just in time to do
something for me.’

“Buenos!” exclaimed the lad, his eyes glowing. “You
got um queer clothes, Pa-e-has-ka. Me no see um face,
no sabe.’

The scout explained about the friar’s robe, about Ba-
ker and his Dozen, and about Bessie Carmelita Baker.
Cayuse listened attentively.

“Now,” added the scout, “what I want you to do,
Cayusé, is to put on this robe”-—he pointed to the witch’s
garb worn by the girl—‘‘and take Miss Baker safely to
a house in the Mexican quarter, where she has friends.
Baker, wherever he is, will be looking for a girl in a

' witch costume, so he will probably try to entrap you.

You'll have to use your wits. If Baker follows you,
take him to the house of Garcia, in the Mexican quarter.
You know that house well: It was vacant, at last
accounts, and I suppose itis vacant now. I will find
some of our ae and have them go to Garcia’s. and
wait there to take care of Baker in case you can lure
him to the place. If nothing happens to you, and you
can’t carry out ‘the plan, come back to this room and
wait for me to show up here. If Baker won't bite,
we ll try something else.”

“Wuh!” answered Little Cayuse.

Buffalo Bill turned to the girl.

“The move I have planned will be best, Miss Botan”
said he. “Cayuse is my little pard, and you can trust
him as you would me. He will see that you get Safely. to
the house of your Mexican friends.”

But we will be seen going,” said the girl.

“T will let the two of you out through the rear. door
of the gambling room, ’'the scout returned, “and Cay-
use will take you into the Mexican quarter through the
alleyways and the dark streets. You can be sure he will
look well to your safety.”

Cayuse was nearly the girl’s height and build. When
he had got into the diseuise, only “his moccasins, which
showed now and then, revealed his identity—and even
the moccasins might be construed as part of his disguise.

Buffalo Bill left the small room first and made his
way to the rear door. The coast seemed clear, and he
opened the door and watched the girl and Cayuse as
they faded into the night.

Then the scout shut the door, turned, drew the robe
carefully up under his chin—and strode out into some
of the weirdest adventures fate had ever thrown his
way.

CHAPTER V.
THE FRIAR AND THE PIRATE.

The scout’s first move was to make his way to the
hotel and try and corral some of his pards in order to
send them to the deserted house in the Mexican quarter
once used as a dwelling by Garcia.

On his way to the hotel Buffalo Bill kept a sharp eye
out for friars, pirates, and Spanish conquistadores. In
traveling the two short blocks that lay between the
gambling hall and the hotel, he saw no one in the sus- |
picious costumes.

At the hotel a disappointment awaited him. Neither
Nomad, Wild Bill, nor the baron were about the place;
nor had they..been there sinee supper, when they had

 
 

 

BUFFALO

8 | THE

thrown themselves Beene into the gayeties of Fiesta
Night. |

To the scout’s ei elcdss, only the baron had put on
a disguise. That costume of the baron’s had aroused
the mirth of all the pards. é

“I peen oudt for some goot times,’ “averred the baron,
“und you bed I ged him.”

Leaving word with the clerk at the hotel for Nomad, |

Wild Bill or the baron to wait in the office in case any,
or all of them happened to stroll in, the scout once
more made his way out into Washington Street.

-The fun in the street was waxing fast and furious. All
sorts of costumes were to be seen. Devils hobnobbed
with! angels in white with homemade wings; a flower
girl was dancing airily down the middle of the street,
while a man in exaggerated cowboy rig hopped along

and played a concertina; an Italian, with a stuffed mon- |

key, played a jew’s-harp on the sidewalk and gravely
passed his ragged cap; there were witches aplenty,
Mother Hubbards, and one or two King Coles. There
was not one in the whole, pleasure-loving crowd who
was not making all the noise he or she possibly could.

As the scout forced his way through the press, he
kept a sharp watch for friars, old-time Spaniards, and
pirates. The first of the suspicious characters broke on
his sight some distance ahead of him.

The man was a Spanish conquistadore, but his ill-
fitting armor made him look like a freak. As the Span-
iard wobbled along, the plume of his helmet tossed like
the plume on a circus horse, and his long sword got be-
tween his legs and tripped him at nearly: every step.
Not only that, but the long spurs at his heels compelled
him to walk pigeon-toed in order to avoid puncturing
his shins.

As this apparition galloped along it afforded unlimited
mirth for the other maskers.

“That’s one of ’em,” thought the scout. “Miss Baker
said the gang was made of greasers, Americans, and
Chinamen. By the looks, that fellow ahead is a chink.
He handles himself like a washee washee, who has bit
off a little more than he can chew. I'll trail him.”

‘The scout hurried on in order to come closer to the
awkward conquistadore. The ancient Spaniard halted at
a place where a Sioux Indian was exhibiting a boxing
bear. Buffalo Bill saw the fellow pull his long sword
from its scabbard, and, unseen by the Sioux, “jab the
point into the bear’s ribs.

At that moment, Buffalo Bill was so close that an-’
other minute of jostling would have brought him to
the Spaniard’s side. But the bear, unused to the treat-.
ment he was receiving, turned and made a lunge at the
Spaniard with his padded front paws. The lunge jerked
the chain out of the Indian’s hand. Then, with an angry
grunt, the bear took after the Spaniard.

Here was fun, and no mistake. The bear was muz-
zled, and as his front paws in their big boxing gloves

flop-flopped on the street, the maskers howled with de-

light and*pushed out of the way.

The Spaniard yelled and raced like a madman, waving
the long sword, the empty scabbard tripping him again
and again, and the long spurs jabbing him roughly
every time he went down.

There was humor in the spectacle. The Spaniard was
“wo yatds ahead of the bear, and the bear was two yards

BILL. STORIES:

ahead of the Indian, and the Indian was two yards in
the lead of a motley crew of hilarious maskers.

Finally the Spaniard, just as he was on the point of
being overhauled, flung himself headfirst through an
open door, and the door banged shut in the bear’s face.

This gave the Sioux Indian a chance to get a fresh
hold on the bear’s chain and to rap the- Bear over the
head.

“Begorry,” spluttered the wrath fal Sioux, “thot omad-
houn wid th’ kettle hat ought t’\ make a supper f’r th’.
bear, so he had; an’ faith, Oi'd have let him but f’r th’
fear he’d have choked his loife out on th’ boiler plate.”

The Irish-Indian led away the bear, and Buffalo Bill
went through the door into which the ancient Spaniard
had vanished. The shop was a little Mexican pee,
and there was no one inside but a Mexican.

“Where’s the man that just came in here, sefior ?”
inquired the scout.

Fhe shopkeeper was sputtering Hw rathtully in péon
Spanish and picking up a basket of overturned red
peppers. He pointed toward the rear of the shop. A
door there was open and suggested the method of the
Spaniard’s escape.

The scout passed into a dark alleyway, but could see
nothing of the Spaniard.

“Great guns!” he muttered disgustedly. “That chink
has given me the slip—and all on account of the bear.
I’ll have to go among the maskers and try again. Cay-
use ought to be on the job by this time. Tl keep an
eye peeled for him, as well as for some of the Dozen.”

He was about to pass back through the tienda, when
he halted in the open rear door. A big fellow in galli-
gaskins, jack-boots, sash, and.a wide-brimmed hat with
a long feather was talking with the shopkeeper.

The scout had never seen a real, live, flesh-and-blood
pirate, but this specimen certainly looked like one. By
the same token, the scout was as eager to find pirates
that night, as he was to locate ancient Spaniards.

Phie shopkeeper waved a hand toward the rear door
and kept on picking up his peppers. Buffalo Bill jumped
to one side and watched cautiously around the edge of
the door.

The pirate, his wide jack-boots flapping against his
shins, was hurrying toward the rear of the establishment.

“T played in hard luck to lose the Spaniard,” muttered
the scout with satisfaction, “but right here is where good
luck shakes hands with me again. I'll lay for that fel-
low.”

Drawing to one side of the door, he waited, drawing
a revolver from his belt for use in case of emergency.

The pirate stepped through the door, saw the silent
figure in the friar’s robe, and came to a dead halt.

“Baker?” he asked in a husky whisper, a

The voice was plainly disguised, and the scout was
positive he had spotted one of the Dozen: If he could
play the scoundrel right, he might learn something about
the leader of the gang.

“No,” and he‘also disguised his voice, “but I’m er
lookin’ fer him myself. You one o’ the Dozen?”

Sa 8

“Baker’s had trouble,”
little closer to the pirate.

“What kind. 0’ trouble?”

remarked the scout, edging a

>

asked the pirate, edging

away.

 

 
 

a

_ course through the store.

 

HEAR iNT AA Gta irae ea IE eke Ce aoleNen RO He Some oa RN ME
Lhe tn Ae ie ipa = pm ApS ere Dig fas Fee IOS ME ay ee D

THE BUPPALO

“The gal got loose from the house, an’ Baker lost his
make-up in ther Palace o’ Chance. I seen the hull game.
Any notion whar we kin find the ole man?”

The scout’s disguised voice and talk seemed to go
very well with this member of the gang. He resolved
to make the most of his opportunity. —

“Ef that’s ther case, pard,”’ proceeded the pirate, “meb-
byso Baker’s gone ter the hang-out ?” °

‘“Mebbyso,” agreed the scout,
hang-out ?”

“Buenos!”

“Pass on an’ [’ll foller.”

The pirate passed on, but he did not lay a return
On the contrary, he took his
way through the alley.

The gloom was thick, there in the narrow passage
between the huddled buildings, and the scout, congratu-
lating himself that he was now to learn something worth
while, pressed the pirate close.

But, just before the cross street was _teached, some-
thing happened,

At a place where the gloom lay heaviest, the pirate

suddenly whirled. Without any ifs, ands, or whyfores,

he hurled himself at the scout and: erabbed his throat
with both hands.

Buffalo Bill was taken at a a dissdy nase bat not for
long. He and the pirate went down on the hard earth
and rolled and squirmed, each fighting for the breath in
the other’s throat.

The scout’s superior skill and prowess enabled him
to wrench the gripping fingers from his neck and whirl
his antagonist underneath. But it was a fierce set-to
the pirate was giving the scout, and the battle was not
won by any means.

“By gorry,’ breathed the pirate, fighting like a demon,

and using his natural tone—a tone that astounded Buf-
“Tile put the kybosh on you, Baker, if it's

falo Bill
the last thing I ever do.”

“Hickok !”? gasped the scout, his muscles growing sud-
denly lax. “How in Sam Hill did this happen?’

The astonishment was paralyzing—and mutual.

“Pard Cody!’ muttered Wild Bill. “Well, suffering
cate! bow did it happen? You tell: me.“
- Both pards got up. Then Buffalo Bill began to laugh.
The shock of surprise over, Hickok also gave way to

mirth, leaning against an adobe wall and shaking until

the ancient weapons in his sash rattled.

“Say,” gasped Hickok, “but this takes the: banner!
Here’s a friar and a pirate, each playing fast and loose
with each other, and never suspecting, for a holy min-
ute, that they’re pards! Why, | thought you were Ba-
ker; Cody!

“And I had a notion you were one of the Dozen?
answered the scout. ‘It’s a mix-up, and no. mistake.
But I’m mighty glad I met up with you, anyway.”

“Same here. Things are not what they seem, on this
blooming Fiesta ‘Night, not by any manner of means.
Fve been following you down the street. When you
came into this hotel, ] came after you. The greaser in
the tienda said you'd left by the back door; so I sailed
along and—and v

Again mirth’ seized the Laramie man,
against the wall.

 

and he fell

   

Se go ter the

BILL STORIES, | ae

CHAPPER VI,

PIRATE NUMBER TWO,

Ss,

“But how did this happen, Hickok?’ asked the scout.
“We'll have to talk quick. A lot of things are to happen,
this night, and if we want to do anything worth while,
we can’t be hung up here for very long.”

“Right-o,” answered Wild Bill, sobering. “I met Bly,
a deputy sheriff, and he was wearing these buccaneer
clothes. He took me to a place where we could have a
quiet talk, and said that Bangham and a force of depu-
ties were looking for you and your pards. It seems
that the sheriff found a letter, written in a woman’s
hand, on his desk, and it told about an escaped convict,
named Baker, who is loose in Phenix, this Fiesta Night.
Baker has a gang with him and is planning to make a
raid, of some sort. The gane’s called the ‘Dozen,’ and
—but I reckon you know as “much, or more, about the
gang than I do. Did you meet up with Bly, or Bang-
ham, or some of the other deputies ?”

“No, I haven’t seen any of them,” answered the scout.
fe got my information from the girl who wrote the
le etter.”

Then, as quickly as he could and leave out none of
the important details, Buffalo Bill told his pard of what
had taken place in the Palace of Chance, and how he had
sent Cayuse, garbed as the witch, to take Miss Baker
to her friends and then to try and ‘lure the leader of the

. gang to Garcia's.

“This here is the queerest tangle I was ever up
against,’ muttered Wild Bill. “The first suspicious char-
acter I see, when I leave Bly, is a friar. I follow the
friar and he turns out to be you. Bly suggested that I
get into this piratical rig.”

“And the girl,” said the scout,
the driar,’

“Both suggestions were A one, pard, seeing that we
couldn't know each of us was to have a hand in the
cross fire. It’s an easy shot that something wofth while
will happen if we keep pegging along in these get ups.”

“I reckon I’d better do most of the pegging along. I
want you to go to Garcia’s old place in the Mexican

“suggested that I play

_ quarter, and see if Cayuse drops in there, trailing Baker.

There are a good many side issues to this night’ s work,
and we've got. to cover every one we can.’

“Keno!” agreed Wild Bill, “Dll put right out for Gar-
cia’s old roost. But, look here, pard. Did the girl tell
you where she lived? That would be a good place to
hunt trouble, seems to me. According to her account,
she and the old Mexican woman left a greaser member
of the gang at the place. The greaser was so full of
pulque he couldn’t get away. If you could go there and
nab him, maybe he’d give you a line on Baker and the
raid the Dozen are intending to make.”

“The girl didn’t tell me where she lived,” said the
scout, “The information might be important,-but [’m
inclined to think that, by /now, some members of the
gang have dropped in ‘at the house, found their drunken
comrade, the door open, and the girl g gone. That would.
mean, of course, that they’d dust, and give the house a
wide berth during the rest of the night. So it’s dollars
to chalk marks that there'll be nothing doing at that
particular house.”

ou ve got the leader’ s Mother Hubbard,” chuckled

 

 
 

re

Se Ad gn a DOE

Se es
ee Se Re

Io

the Laramie man, “and what sort of 4 rig do you reckon
he’s wearing now?” :

“Give it up. Have you seen the baron or Nomad?’

“Not since we. scattered for a time, right after supper.
But you can easy find the baron in that greaser make-
up. of his—he’s a mark. As for Nomad, he’s not in cos-
iume at all. Probably he’s in some of the places along
the street.”

“Well, pard, hike for Garcia’s.
pens, meet meat. the
about midnight.” :

“Correct,”

The pards walked to the cross street and separated,
Wild Bill moving off through the gloom in the direc-
tion of the Mexican quarter, and Buffalo Bill retracing
his way to the glitter and glare and frivolity of Wash-
ington Street.

The scout had no more than pushed into a crowd of
maskers before he got a straight tip. A voice whis-
pered huskily in his ear:

“Watchword fer the night’s been changed ter ‘pesos.’
Ole man’s in trouble. Lost his disguise, an’ is got up as
a cowpunch—white handkerchief around his — neck.
Watch fer the sign an’ look sharp.”

No matter what hap-
room in the Palace of Chance

THE BUPHAUO BILL

 

5 LOREES:

“Pesos, sefior,” he answered. “Mucho trouble.
eighteen, Geronimo Street, muy pronto!” ae

With that, he rushed on without waiting further. In
ordinary circumstances, the scout would have followed
him, but just then he was eager to see what had hap-
pened under the umbrella trees. i ;

Why had the pirate knocked the Spaniard down?
What was the trouble between them? Possibly the
Spaniard could tell something valuable to the forces of
law and order? .

Hurrying on into the darkness, the scout was sud-
denly seized by the Spaniard, who sprang to his feet to—
make the attack,

“Consarn yer pizen pictur’! whooped the Spaniard.
“Ve never’d a-bumped me like thet ef I hadn’t had on
this hyar pesky iron coat an’ headgear. Now I'll make
ye think ye’re buffaloed!”

Again the scout was nearly paralyzed. The pirate
was pinning him against the trunk of a tree and haul-
ing back a fist.

“Nick! cried the scout.
up to, old pard?”

The trapper let out a wheezy breath of consternation.

“Buffler?” he mumbled, ‘“Pard Buffer! Waal, I’m er

“What the nation are you

4 In spite of the hood that enveloped his head, the scout
/ heard all this distinctly enough, Just as the last word

was spoken, and the scout was turning to take note of
the speaker, a man in the garb of a negro minstrel struck
him in the face with an inflated bladder.

Piegan ef I ever dreamt ye was what ye aire! Thunder
an’ kerry one! Waugh, er-r-r-waugh!” The old trap-
per backed off a step and fanned a hand in front of his.
face, “Did thet crack on ther block loco me? Am I
seein’ things at night? Ye ain’t ther pirate, but ye’re a

Lae SITET
Sa

 

“Yah, yah! Ho yo’ lak dat, huh?’

The scout didn’t like it, The fun was harmless, but
it caused him to lose sight of the man who had done the
husky whispering. Although he peered sharply in every
direction, he could see nothing of another friar, an old-
time Spaniard, or a pirate.

“Well,” mused the scout, “I’ve got hold of some-
thing, anyhow. So the watchword has been changed to
‘pesos, eh? And Baker’s in trouble and wearing a
cowboy’s rig with a white hankerchief around his throat.
What's the sign to be? If I can see a cowboy with a
white handkerchief, that’ll be sign enough for me.”

Buffalo Bill, feeling a certain amount of satisfaction
because he had sent Wild Bill to help Cayuse, continued
his watchiul roaming. He moved the other way along
Washington Street, this time in the direction of the city
hall ‘plaza.

On the street corner, directly across from the plaza,
he saw two men crossing toward the umbrella and pep-
per trees in front of the city hall. One was a pirate
and the other was a Spaniard. |

“Great guns,’ muttered the scout, ‘“‘here’s more luck.
There are two of the Dozen, and no mistake. That’s not
the same Spaniard [ saw before, and I’m dead sure the
pirate isn’t Hickok, because Hickok is in the Mexican
quarter, by now. I'll trail along.”

Following the pair, the scout crossed the street and
came to the/ corner of the plaza. ‘The pirate and the
Spaniard were moving in under the umbrella trees, and
their forms were dim in the shadows.

Buffalo Bill strolled in under the trees. He was not
a dozen feet into the plaza before he heard a muttered
impercation, the sound of a blow and of a fall. The
pirate came rushing back toward the street. When near
Buffalo Bill he slackened pace.

“Pesos,” hissed the scout.

The pirate seemed reassured,

 

- biff !

monk. I don’t keer a picayune whether find monks, er
pirates, er old Spaniards—they’re all part o’ the Dozen,
they say. Buffler, speak ag’in. Reassure my puzzled
intelleck.”
“Of course it’s Buffalo Bill,” returned the scout.
“Nary ‘o’ course,” returned Nomad; “‘no more ‘o’
course, Buffler, than me bein’ a pirate. When I met up
with Bangham, an’ he took me ter the sher’ff’s office an’
crowded me inter this iron coat, he didn’t say nothin’
erbout findin’ you an’ fixin’ ye out as a monk. Mebby
he done et arter him an’ me had our palaver? An’ yit,
I kain’t sabby thet, neither, kase I jest left ther sher’ff’s
office an’ was strollin’ down ther street when I run inter
thet pirate. Snarlin’ catermounts, but this hyar Fieste
Night is shore razzlin’ me er heap,”
Old Nomad sat down on a bench, which happened to
be handy, and rubbed a hand over the top of his mask
and drummed his knuckles against the helmet,
The scout sat down beside him. ae
“You saw Bangham, Nick,” he queried, “and he told
you about Baker and his Dozen, and suggested that you
get into that costume and go looking for the gang?’
“Keno, kerect,: an’ then some. 1 thort 2. ‘had thet
pirate ter thinkin’ I was one o’ the Dozen, kase he was
takin’ me ter the gang’s hang-out; then, all ter oncet,
He ketched me with his fist afore I knowed.
Reckon he must er suspected somethin’, an’ never let
on. -Whar'd he gor’
“T didn’t follow him. My principal concern was to
find out something about you.” os oe
“But, ef ye didn’t see Bangham, how’d ye happen ter
make a monk o’ yerself ?”
Then, just as he had explained to Wild Bill, the scout
now explained to Nomad. When the scout had finished,

the whole situation, so far as the scout knew it, was
before the old trapper. ,

 
a

Soe es ae reels eee ane ee eee Se ee ee ee ee

: burglars.
takes 0’ this hyar night.”

 

  
 

PS Se eS ae Oar ne ERATE Seni reat eae One eee

Nomad chuckled, laughed, and then grew sober and
wrathful when he felt of the bruise on his forehead.

“Eighteen Geronimo Street, huh?” he growled, start-
‘ing up from the bench. “Thet must be whar thet thar
pirate hiked to. Ye got ther watchword, ‘so let’s pull
out fer the place an’ see what we kin find.”

This was a suggestion that had already appealed to
the scout. Without delaying further, he got up and
moved off toward the street with the old trapper.

CHAPTER VII.
NO. 18 GERONIMO. STREET.

The Chinese quarter of the town was across Wash-
ington Street from the Mexican quarter. Geronimo
Street ran along the edge of the section given over to
the Celestials. In spite of its proximity to. “ Little
China,” the thoroughfare was inhabited by many fairly
well-to-do citizens.

To find No, 18 was no easy task. Some of the houses
had no numbers,-and some of those that had been num-
bered had lost the figures through wear and tear by
wind and weather.

“We don’t want ter make no mistake, Buffler,”
srunted Nomad. “Thar'd be a purty how-d’ye-do ef we
picked out ther wrong house an’ got run in fer bein’
Thet would jest erbout wind up ther mis-

“Tf there’s a house on every lot,’ said Buffalo Bill,
“and we began counting from Washington Street, the

ninth house would be the one.”

“On which side?’

“Left side; even numbers are all there.
here and wait while I do a little scouting.”

Old Nomad took off his helmet. It was heavy and
the night was hot, so that a suit of armor. was anything
but comfortable. He would also have removed the cor-
selet, but that buttoned down the back, and he was no
contortionist. Dropping, down at the foot of a pecan
tree, he followed the shadowy form of the scout with
his eyes.

There was a palm tree in front of the ninth house on
the left. The scout ducked under the broad, drooping
leaves, jumped a little irrigating ditch, and vani ‘shed
from sight.- He was back in a few minutes.

“What did ye find, pard?’ inquired Nomad,

“That’s the house, all right,” was the answer. “The
number’s on the porch post. The house is two stories
and built of sun-dried bricks.”

“Any one eround?”

“Not that I can see—or hear. If any of the gang
are inside, they’re certainly lying low.”

“It’s a heap healthier fer ’em ter do thet, ther way
things is goin’. Let’s knock, an’ make a call. I’m some
anxious ter git within arm’s reach o’ thet pirate person.
Say, he turned right eround, thar in ther plaza, an’
lambasted me afore I knowed. Ther pizen whelp!’

The scout stood for a moment thoughtfully under the
pecan’ tree.

“There are a dozen of them, Nick,” he observed, “not
counting Baker. With Baker added, the Dozen becomes
a-baker’s dozen. Suppose we knock and are let in

Sit down

,among the whole thirteen ?”

 

 

THE BUFFALO

BILL. STORIES. ' , ti

“What's ther odds?” grumbled tne old trapper reck-
lessly ; “what's thirteen os ereasers, an’ outlaw
Americans ter you an’ me?. Waugh! Pu take six an’ |
know you kin man- -handle t’other seven.’

“T wouldn’t think of it if circumstances indicated that

all thirteen of the gang are in the house; but a lot of

them must still be over in Washington Street. Come on,
pard, and we'll chance it. The quicker we put the ky-
bosh on Baker, the better it will be, all around.”

“Thet’s. ther tork, pard!” Nomad sprang up. “I
reckon I’ll leave thet tin headpiece hyar till I come back.”

“T reckon you won't, Nick. You may need that full
suit for a disguise. You're too plain a Cody pard with-
out it)”

“Kerect! I'll dive inter et ag’in.”’

Nomad pulled the helmet over his head, and he and
the scout turned boldly into the yard, mounted the steps
to the porch and knocked on the door.

A muffled sound came frorn inside. There was.a win-
dow near the door and it seemed as though some one
was looking from the window to make sure of the call-
ers before opening the door. Apparently the view of
the two on the porch, although made in the seni-dark-
ness, was reassuring.

“Que quiere (what do you want) 7”
from the other side of the door.

“Pesos,” said the scout.

‘Pesos,’ answered the unseen speaker.

The door was open and the scout and the trapper
stepped into a dark hall. No word was spoken. The
door was closed and bolted; then the man who had ad-
mitted the pards could be heard groping his way across
the hall. He opened a door at the farther side of the
hall, and the dull glow of a candle pierced the heavy
gloom.

The man had on a friar’s cloak, and was muffled to
the: eyes.

“Come in here,” he said eruffly.

The pards followed him into a neat little sitting room.
There was nothing very elegant about the room, but the
rocking chairs, the matting carpet, the rack of worn
books over a table, all spoke of quiet and comfort.

This sitting room was at the back of the house, and
the doors communicating with the front room and the
kitchen were closed. - Also, the two windows of the
room were draped with heavy blankets to keep the light
from being seen by any one on the outside.

“T’ll be back in a minute, sefiors,’” mumbled the man.
“Got ter go out in front an’ watch fer some more 0’
the Dozen.’

He went into the hall again, closing the door after
him.

POnakes an -taranches |’
“Whar'’s thet pirate?”

“Pass the ante, Nick,’ answered the puzzled scout,
likewise in a guarded tone. “Queer lay out here, and
no mistake.”

Pel net ombray thet jest left us ain’t no greaser.

came a low voice

a3

uttered old Nomad,

He’s

’ Americano.”’

“That’s my idea.”

“Whyever-did he hail us at the door with words in
ther greaser lingo?”

“Maybe that’s the gang’s custom. There's been more
than one man in here, and not many minutes ago,’
the scout added.

‘How d’ye figger et?”

 

 
AEE

Dose

 

 

Hh
Wa
ih
fh

 

12 THE BUFFALO

“The room’s blue with tobacco smoke. One man
couldn’t have made all that.’

“Right ye aire! No more one man couldn’t. But
whar ther blazes hev they all gone?”

“Listen!” whispered the scout, dropping a hand on
the trapper’s knee.

A gurgling noise, faint, but distinct, was heard. It
stopped, then come again, then stopped once more.

“What is et, Buffler?’” whispered Nomad.

“Sounds like a man breathing,” answered the scout.

“Then his breathin’ is some diffikilt.”

Nomad got up and crossed the room to a couch. The
couch was covered with the usual Navajo blanket. The
trapper lifted the edge of the blanket and gave vent to
a muttered exclamation. A pair of jack-boots. could
plainly be seen.

Buffalo Bill hurried to his old pard’s side, and, to-
gether, each laid hold of a boot and drew into sight the
pirate with whom they had parted in the plaza.

The man was tied, hand and foot, and gagged. The
gag was tight between his teeth, and, as he breathed, he
emitted the peculiar sound that had attracted the pards’
attention and led to this discovery,

“Waal, sufferin’ horntoads!” growled the trapper.
“Nice way this Dozen has got, treatin’ one o’ their gang
in sich fashion.”

The bound pirate tried to talk. His eyes begged for
release, but there was a puzzled look in them.

“He reckernizes us as not bein’ two o’ ther Dozen,”
went on Nomad, “but ef we kin -

“Throw up your hands!’

The hall door had opened suddenly, revealing another
friar, a man in an ill-fitting Mexican costume, and an-
other ‘pirate. All three of! the men in the hall had
weapons in hand and leveled.

“Up with ‘em!’’ went on the stern voice. “This makes
two more of the Dozen, and if we wait long enough, I
reckon ‘we'll get the rest.”

“Steady,” called the scout in a warning voice.

Fle pulled the friar’s robe back from his face. A sur-
prised exclamation broke from the three in the door-
way.

“Buffalo Bill!’ cried the man who had been doing the
speaking. “Well, well!’

Revolvers were lowered and the three stepped into
the room.

“Tf this ain’t a surprise party,” laughed the man in
the ereaser clothes, “I don’t want a cent.”

“And we thought we had some more of the Dozen!’
chuckled the pirate.

Nomad gave a disgusted grunt and took off his hel-
met.

“Nice game ye're playin’ on a feller, Bangham,” said
ee ‘oittin’ me inter this hyar rig an’ then tryin’ ter
shoot me up.’

The three men were Bangham, and Bly, and Borat
After they had all laughed a little over the contretemps,
they sat down to talk it over.

“T didn’t think there’d be such a 0 on account:
of the disguises,” said Bangham, “or I wouldn’t have
been _ putting them on you fellows in such a wholesale
Way

opty fixed up Wild Bill,” said the scout,
fixed up Nomad, Bangham, and——”

“An’ it was me as fixed up yer Dutch pard,” grinned

Sproul,

 

“and you

—e eens ee et

 

BILU STORIES.

The two pards started.

“Is the baron masquerading, too?” inquired the scout.

“Shore he is! I got on his greaser clothes. Bang-
ham had run out o Dozen disguises, so I couldn't
change. The baron’s an ole Spaniard, an’ %

“And ll bet money he’s’ the fellow that got into
trouble with the bear!” laughed the scout.

“But how do you happen to be playing the friar?’
demanded the sheriff of Buffalo Bill.

For the third time the scout went over that part of
the matter. The officers listened with absorbed attention.

“Here’s a great cross play,’ commented Bangham,
“and all Hecause-none of us knew what the rest were
doing. An old Mexican woman called at my office, an
hour ago, and told me to come here and Id find one of
the Dozen too full of pulque to move. Bly, Sproul and
I came at once, but we didn’t find the man. While we
were thinking about it, that fellow showed up’—he
pointed to the man on the floor—‘and we nabbed him.
He’s one of the Dozen, all right, but we couldn’t get
him to say a word. After that, you two came, and we
thought we had another pair of rascals. We pushed
the pirate under the——”

The sheriff was interrupted by a fist banging on the
door. Buffalo Bill jumped for the hall and shoved
back the bolt. He had the door open in short order,
but there was no one on the porch. He hurried out on
the porch and peered up and down in the darkness.
But he could see no one.

“Here, Cody,’ called the sheriff, “I reckon this is
what the fellow came for. He brought this and shoved
it under the door. It’s a communication of some sort.’

Bangham, with a folded paper in his hand, retreated
to the sitting room, ihe scout and the rest following
him.

The paper was Laie, on the outer fold, to “Bang-
ham, the Sheriff.” ~

Unfolding the note the sheriff read it aloud:

 

 

“*¥ou can’t beat us out. Call off your men and tell
Cody to call off his pards. We've got Wild Bill and
Little Cayuse, and if anything happens to us, something
will sure happen to them Baxer’s Dozen.’ ”

CHAPTER) VIII,
A COUNCIL OF WAR.

Here was a blow between the eyes, mysteriously de-
livered, but none the less stunning for all that.

“Consarn ther pizen whelps!”’ whooped the old trap-
per. “Is this what this hyar the-ay-ter actin’ is er comin’
to? Us fellers go gallivantin’ eround, makin’ fools 0’
ourselves kase the sher’ff an’ deperties so advises, an’
now we l’arn thet Hickok an’ Leetle Cayuse hev been
trapped an’ aire bein’ held ter answer fer whatever we
do agin’ the gang. Say, I’m some mad, I am, an’ a
heap gloomed up! How did et ever happen, Buffler ?
How was et possible fer Leetle Cayuse, who’s sharper’n
a steel trap, an’ fer Pard Hickok, who kin match wits
an’ shootin’ irons agin’ any gang thet ever walked, ter
git buffaloed an’ kyboshed like what thet thar note says?’

‘“Mebby the note’s a fake,” suggested Sproul.

 

 
in this quarter?

 

 

THE BUBEALO

“Maybe it ie,” returned Buffalo Bill;
genuine ring—to me.’

“One of “the gang must have toted it to the door,
averred Bly. ‘How did he know the lay of the land

hd

“but it’s got a

_ “Probably,” answered Bangham, “the fellow has been
spying on the house here. It’s a nervy gang, anyhow,
to appropriate a private house like this as a hang out for
hatching their villainous schemes.”

“Tf that note is really genuine, Bangham,” mused the
scout, ‘then Baker himself must have written it.”’

“The impudent tone of the thing rather suggests that
the leader is back of it.”

“Then the spy has informed Baker of what is going
on here, and Baker is making a threat in the hope that
he will keep us from interfering with his schemes.”

“I’m sorry for Cayuse and Wild Bill,” said the sheriff,
frowning, “but I can't conscientiously hold off just be-

’

cause they may get hunt:

“Certainly not,’-returned the scout a little sharply.
“Two wrongs don’t make a right; but, while you’re do-
ing all you can to lay Baker ‘by ‘the heels, Nick and |

will do our best to see that Cayuse and Pichote get clear

of their trouble. That’s our first duty, just as your first
duty is to let nothing get between you and this Baker’s
Dozen of scoundrels.”

- Nevertheless, although Bangham was of one mind
with the scout in this, the logic of the situation left him
uncomfortable.

“T wish to thunder the thing was shaping up in a
different way,” he growled fretfully. “That note settles
one point, evert if the capture of that pirate over there
didn’t.”

“What's that?”

oo Why, the tears ofa couple of women haven’t stirred
up this trouble all for nothing. I’m positive now that
Baker is really at large in the town, and that he has a
pack of villains with him who are bent on making a
raid of some kind.”

“You should have been positive of that when I told
you about Bessie Baker and repeated the information
she gave me.’

“She’s a young girl, a her fears may have caused
her to look at this Baker’s Dozen through a mental tele-
scope.”

“Didn’t the old Mexican woman impress you as being
in earnest ?”’

“She was in earnest, all right—so earnest, in fact, that
she was half hysterical. Usually there’s not much sense
to be got ont of a woman in that condition.”

3uffalo Bill walked over to the prisoner. With No-
mad’s help he lifted him to the couch. The fellow’s
mask had already been pulled away. The scout re-
moved the gag.

A. brutal, thoroughly criminal face looked up at the

~ scout as the latter bent down.

The man was a Mexican.

“You belong to this gang of thugs and thieves, do
you?’ demanded the scout, staring hard at the fellow,

He glared defiantly, but would not answer.

“What sort of a raid is this that Baker is intending to
make to-night?’ went on the scout.

Still no answer.

“Thar’s er way ter make him tune up his bazoo,’
scowled the old trapper fiercely.

“You have horses hidden away somewhere,”

 

   

pursued

 

 

BILL BTORING 13

“the scout, “so that you can make a quick getaway as
soon as you pull off the deal that brought you here.
Where are the animals?”

The man persisted in his sullen silence.

“You'll not get anything out of the greaser, Buffalo
Bill,” spoke up Bangham. ‘We tried the scoundrel in
a dozen ways, and couldn't get a thing out of him but
that glare of the eyes.’

ot “sot somethin’ out o’ him,” muttered Old Nomad.
“Fle handed me one under the rim o’ thet thar teakittle
ye shoved onter my head. I wisht he wasn’t tied up,
an’ thet I had him ter capter,”

“Put back the gag, Nick,” said the scout, turning
away from the couch. ‘“What’s your plan for the rest of

* this work, Bangham?” he asked.

“I’m up a stump, as you might say,” returned the
sheriff. | ‘‘This fiesta complicates things and makes it
hard to do any work of the law-and-order kind. What-
ever is done, too, must be done in a hurry. Baker and
his men will work quick in order to make their raid and
get away before morning. Do you think there’s any
use going to the Mexican quarter, to this deserted house
of Garcia’ s, you mentioned ?”’

“Nomad and I will cover that part of it, Bangham.
You and your men can turn your hands to something
else,”

“What would you suggest beyond loafing around the
street and waiting for some of the gang to approach
us?”

“T doubt if hee ll be any more of that. It must be
pretty well known by now that Buffalo Bill and pards and
the sheriff and his deputies are abroad in costumes simi-
lar to those worn by the Dozen. Baker and his gang
will be more than careful now. Don’t forget, too, that
Baker is wearing cowboy clothes, and that he has a
white handkerchief tied around his throat.”

‘Who ever heard of a cowboy with a white handker-
chief!” exclaimed Sproul. “Mostly their handkerchiefs
aire of the red cotton bandanna kind.”

“T think, Sproul,” said the scout, “that Baker is wear-
ing the white handkerchief so the rest of his gang will
know him. Can you get me a Cy orenet s rig, Bang-
ham,” he asked, turning to the sheriff, “‘on short notice

“I can get you anything you want in that line,” re-
plied the sheriff. “My office, over in the jail, has looked
like a Jew clothing store ever since six o’clock., Sproul!”

“Here!” answered the deputy.

“Go over to the office and get Buffalo Bill what he
wants.”

“Take it to the Palace of Chance,” added the scout.
“Val meet you there.”

“What then, Bangham?” asked Sproul.

“Come here and keep house with Bly,” was the an-
swer. “Some of the gang niay show up in this place.
Anyhow, the prisoner is to be guarded. We can’t bother
to tote him to headquarters at this stage of the game.’

Sproul left in a hurry.

“You haven’t told me anything else I might do, Buf-
falo Bill,’ went on the sheriff. “Something has got to
be done and done quick.”

“I'd suggest, then,” said Buffalo Bill, “that you go
looking for the horses which the gang has in readiness
to carry them into the hills when they make their haul.
If you can find the cattle, that will go a long way toward
foiling the gang in case they do what they plan and are
ready to make a dash for the hills.”

93

 
Pitesti (tein: cali eA RecA: ate Ast of AR i che pb i inh Se UN Ah BAe a oan ha ccm te cil Lan cea Hedab nn-asagh pnd onli de pasans coe ost aly Seg gS

 

   

@

“Good idea!” approved Bangham. “There should be
thirteen horses in the bunch, and that number couldn't
be very easily hidden. Still, it’s a large order I’ve got,
and not one to be quickly filled, Where'd be the best
place to look?”

“Well, there are both Chinamen and Mexicans in the
gang. Why not prowl around the Chinese quarter, for
a while? If you don’t have any luck, cross the street to
the place where the Mexicans live.”

“Til do-it. I’m of the opinion, though, that you and
Nomad are going to have the best show at this Garcia
place.”

“I wish I was of the same opinion,” returned the
scout. “If Baker was clever enough to break out of the
Yuma penitentiary, he’s certainly clever enough to know
it won't do for him to keep his prisoners at that old
house. My little Piute pard must have coaxed some of
the gang there—so, the minute Wild Bill showed him-
self, Baker must have known the whole scheme was @
frame-up,”

“Pat's a fact. 2 wonder if this girl,
could give us any further information ?’

“Don’t try to find her—don’t go near her. She has
helped you enough as it is, Bangham, and if Baker found
out where she has gone he might take a chance and try
to get even with her. , We want to protect Miss Baker
instead of unloading any more trouble upon her.”

“Ther easiest way ter help her,” put in Nomad,
ter capter ther leader 0’ ther gang and send him back
ter ther Yuma pen. Let’s be goin’, Buffler.”

The old trapper was putting on his helmet.
scout and Bangham he walked into the hall.

“Keep your eyes open, Bly!” called.out the sheriff
warningly. “TI don’t think anything will happen here, but
you never can tell,’

a onthe Job, Bangham, ’
dently.

Miss. Baker,

With the

answered Bly confi-

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

o’ these fool things I got on. Sufferin’ blazes! I feel
like I was in er hay press.

“We'll fix that,’ said the scout. “When I step ott of
this hooded cloak and into the cowboy fixings, you can
be the friar.”

“Thet’ll help some, I reckon,” ‘answered Nomad.

It was getting along toward midnight, but the fun in
Washington Street was as fast and furious as ever.
The revelers were going a pace that increased with the
passing hours. They would stop and go. home when
they were tired out, and not before.

Buffalo Bill had a faint hope that he might find Little
Cayuse waiting for him in the small room off the rear

of the gambling hall—a hope that the note sent to Bang-

‘ham might turn out to have been merely a “bluff.”

But, in this, he was disappointed. Sproul was wait-
ing for the pards with a bundle, and as soon as he had
delivered the bundle he hurried back to Geronimo
Street.

The change in costumes was quickly effected in the
back room. Old Nomad, with much rejoicing, left be-
hind him his pile of boiler plate. The loose robe with
the hood was far and away more comfortable.

In leaving the Palace of Chance, the pards went out
the rear way, just as Little Cayuse and Miss Baker had
gone, some time earlier in the evening.

Through dark byways they gained the Mexican quar-
ter. The quarter was gloomy ‘enough, at that hour. 1t
had an ominous look at all fou but its silence was

more menacing at the dead of night.

With that the three men let themselves out of the ¢

house. They separated by the palm—Bangham turning
toward the Chinese quarter and the scout and the trap-
per making for Washington Street,

CHAPTER 1X.
GOING IT BLIND.

On the way along Washington Street to the Palace
of Chance, Buffalo Bill and Nomad saw no friars, no
pirates, and no Spanish conquistadores.

“That means,” said the scout, after Nomad had re-
marked on the circumstance, “that Baker has. got his
gang pretty well informed regarding operations against
him.”

“Either thet, Buffler,” observed the trapper, ‘
gittin’ ready fer the raid.”

“The information is out and the gang is hurrying the
raid.”

“Then what’ s the use 0’ disguisin’ ourselves any longer
ef Baker an’ his crowd aire leery 0’ armor-plated sents,
friars an’ pirates?”

“Well, Nick, I am of the opinion that disguises will
still be of help to us. If I hadn’t been, I’d never have
asked Bangham for the cowboy rig.”

“What I want,” grunted the trapper,

‘er they're

"as. tor sit char.

Buffalo. Bill and Nomad were not long in reaching
that part of the narrow street which lay directly in front
of the deserted dwelling once occupied by Garcia.

For the scout and his. pards, a number -of thrilling
incidents clustered about.the squat adobe structure.

“No light thar, Buffler,’ muttered the trapper.

“I didn't think there would be, Nick,’ was the an-
swer. “The Dozen are not showing any fire signals at
a time: like, this.”

“kil bet ye a bushel
bray in ther place.’

PL hat was my notion before we left Geronimo Street.
We've been going it blind, pard, without much hope of
finding Cayuse and Hickok. Nevertheless, we've got
to run out the trail. On -the supposition that there may
be some of the gang in the house, I’m going to go in
the back way while you go in at the front. If I stir up
any one, he'll run toward you, and so the other way
around. #

“I’m hopin’ some o’: ther pizen whelps'll be stirred
up, but I ain’t countin’ on it much.”

They separated, Buffalo Bill going off through the
gloom toward the rear of the adobe and old Nomad
moving upon the front door.

The building was as silent as the grave.
the doors locked. ©

Without difficulty the scout, hand on revolver grip,
entered the kitchen.

No hostile movement of any sort greeted his entrance.
The stillness was so intense that it seemed almost as
though he could hear the beating of his own heart.

But the house had been occupied, and recently. Here,
as in the place at 18 Geronimo Street, the stench of
tobacco smoke was most pronounced.

Jie struck a. natch, /

A broken bench stood near one of the kitchen walls.

o’ dinero thar ain’t a single om-

Nor were

 

 
 

lately been in the place,
Wild Bill.
would have shown a light.

of the Dozen to this place.

 

THE BUBEALO

\

On one end of the bench stood a bottle with a bait

\ burned candle thrust in its mouth.

That candle was further proof that some one had
some one besides Cayuse and
Neither the Piute nor the Laramie man

The kitchen windows were screened with pieces of
dirty canvas.

Passing on through the kitchen, the scout met the
trapper in the only other room the adobe contained.

‘Nothin’ hyar,’ commented the trapper gloomily,
“jest as we reckoned.”

“There has been some one here,” said the scout, and
returned to the kitchen to point out the evidences of
recent occupancy to the ape

' “Waal,” said Nomad, “ther fact thet some un hes

‘been hyat ain't er helpin’ us none.’

“It helps us this far, pard: It confirms’ that note. sent
to Bangham in Geronimo Street. Cayuse lured some
Wild Bill tried to help him.
Through some mischance our pards failed in their cal-
culations, and instead of making a capture they got cap-
tured. All the evidence we find supports that theory.”’

The scout had already lighted the candle. He now
carried the light around the interior of the house, search-
ing all corners.. He found an ancient flint-lock pistol.

“That,” said he, kicking the old gun toward Nomad,
‘is part of Wild Bill’s pirate make-up.”

“Mebby not, Buffler. Thar’s others o the gang in
pirate rig. Some one o’ the Dozen may hev drapped
Sti

“Possibly ;
Bah”

There was nothing else to be found. Candle in hand,
Buffalo: Bill stepped through the back door and held the

but I could almost gamble it was Wild

light close to the ground.

The hard, clayey soil was beaten hard and held no
imprint of passing feet. Not until he had gone care-
fully over the rear of the premises did the ‘scout give
up and return to old Nomad.

“Our hands are in the air, Nick,” -he announced.

“Thet’s what I thort, some ‘sort of er while ago,’ was
she trapper’s response. (

“We've got to do something for our pards, and do it
im a rush.”

“Name ther move an’ I’ll-climb inter et with both
feet.”

“Naming the move’ was a difficult proposition. The
scout paced thoughtfully up and down the kitchen.

However, he turned the situation over in his mind to

some purpose.
There were but two sections of the town where a

lawless gang, even on Fiesta Night, would have head-

quarters for criminal operations.

These were the Mexican and the Chinese sections.
In those quarters more or less unsavory operations were
going on constantly.

‘Baker, having both Mexicans and Chinamen in his
gang, might have chosen either ‘quarter. Geronimo
Street was close to “Little China,” and perhaps that was
the reason he had first made his headquarters at.No. 18.
Driven from Geronimo Street, he might have resorted
to the Mexican section of the town; but would he stay
in the greaser quarter after Little Cayuse had tried to
lure him into Garcia’s old house ?.

~The seout thought not. Only the Chinese quarter re-

 

 

Bile STORIES, I5

mained. The chances were ten to one that the Dozen
—minus the Mexican captured in Geronimo purest iad
gone to “Little China.”

Buffalo Bill explained the results of his reasoning to
Nomad.

“T reckon ye’ve made a bull’s-eye hit, Buffler,” agreed
the trapper, “but chinkdom, in this hyar town, is purty
big fer its size an’ full o’ all sorts er places whar om- —
‘brays kin hide.”

“It hasn’t many places where thirteen horses can
hide,” said the scout.

“Bangham is lookin’ fer thee ridin’ stock.’

ANS il look, too. If we find the horses, Nick, we'll
have a line on the place where Baker and his men are
operating.” a

“Yore jedgment is allers ace-high with me. In trav-
elin’ er blind trail, Ud ruther foller Pard Buffler’shead-
work than a bloodhound, Le’s climb fer. ther chink
headquarters.”

Without wasting any more time they left the deserted

99

- house, turned into the first cross street, and made their

way to the opposite side of the brilliantly lighted main
thoroughfare.

For the most part, the fancy of the Chinamen ran
to long adobe walls covering a block. In these walls
were window and door openings. Partitions made each
house separate and distinct from its neighbor—so far
as the police or “foreign devils’ had any knowledge—
but the long front w all was a partnership affair.

There was not the same silence here that had distin-
guished the Mexican quarter. The slant-eyed men were
night owls, and yellow light gleamed.: around the edges
at more than one ada cunein, and from more than
one interior came the click of dice thrown in an earthen
bowl as heathen gambling went on,

The pards slowly traversed one long aioe wall. In
front of the corner shop a eae lantern was burning
over a red sign covered with white hen tracks. A ick
also came from within this house, but it was the ringing
click of coin. Under the red and white sign was. an
American interpretation of the shopkeeper’s business.
The American sign read, “Dealer in Dollars.”

A dealer in dollars is usually a fat, well-to-do Celes-
tial, who takes American gold below the Rio’ Grande
and turns it into Mexican silver pesos at a ratio of about
two to one. Bringing back the silver coin, the dealer
sells it, at a premium, to Celestials who are transmitting
money to the Flowery Kingdom. There is more silver
in a Mexican dollar than there is in an American dollar.
This the Chinaman knows, and he profits by his knowl-
edge.

While the pards were standing on the corner they
heard a clanking noise as of some one rattling a chain.
It did not come from inside the shop of the dollar
dealer, but from the darkness along the side wall.

The rattle came closer and loser : then, all..at once,
it ceased with a clatter, as though a dozen chain hawsers
had been dropped.

“Ach, du lieber!’ muttered an angry voice, “oof i
vasn’t sooch a goot feller I vould svear like anyding.
Draveling mit a scrap bile on your pack is tough vork,
Now den, vonce more vill I try it, py shinks.”

The sound of rattling chains was resumed; and the
scout and the trapper, with subdued laughs, hurried
around the corner and into the gloom by the side wall.

 

 
SOT

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fares SS eke) Sno aoe SR rr ese tr

nO {° -) THE BURFALO BILL STORIES.

CHAPTER X
LIVTLE: CAYUSE “PLAYS “HIS “PART,

None of. the scout’s pards was more worthy of con-
fidence than Little Cayuse. He took a great pride in
carrying out orders; and this pride was backed with an
ability far beyond the boy’s years.

Safely he conducted Miss Bessie Carmelita Baker to
the Mexican quarter, and left her in the hands of old
Manuelita. The aged Mexican woman was just getting
back from the sheriff’s office, and Cayuse and the girl

met her in front of the house where the two had taken

refuge.

While Manuelita was clasping the girl in her arms,
and snuffling and crying over her as one returned from
the grave, Cayuse had whirled away, without a word,
and vanished in the direction of Washington Street.

Once in the crowded thoroughfare, the boy made it
a point to take short steps, in “order to keep his moc-
casins from showing beneath the bottom of the long
witch’s robe.

Only his keen, restless little eyes showed from under
the pointed hood. He must look out for men in long

robes, for men in big boots and big hats, and for men

in iron coats,

Pa-e-has-ka had described these disguises to him
carefully, and he had them distinctly retordcn in ‘his
mind. Here and there darted his weasel glances.
While he looked he became suddenly aware that he was
being followed—and it was by a man in a robe!

The boy’s heart beat high with exultation. He had
been no more than an hour strolling through the mad
street. when this lucky thing happened... He was fol-
lowed by the Long Robe, and so closely did the Long
Robe resemble Pa-e-has-ka that he could almost have
thought it Pa-e-has-ka himself.

But the Long, Robe was trailing Cayuse and drawing:
closer and closer.

Cayuse, concerned in drawing the trailer after him to

. the Mexican quarter, did not notice how the Long Robe

whispered to left and right as it came on in his foot-
steps; nor did he see how men in iron coats and in big
hats and big boots dropped behind and trailed the Long
Robe.

The Piute thought only of getting the Long Robe to
the place where Pa-e-has-ka had said he would have
pards waiting.

With a delightful feeling of doing his full duty, Cay-

use turned out of Washington Street and laid a meander-

ing course for the Heecarce house.

He was careful not to get too far ahead ‘of the Long
Robe, and careful not to get so close that the Long
Robe could catch him before the vacant adobe was
reached.

Playing with the paleface as. some. venturesome
mouse might play with a cat, he led the man into dark
ways and narrow passages, finally darting into Garcia’s
old place.

Six men came up-to the Long Robe in front of the
house; then the six divided into two parties of three
each, and each party went to the sides of the house.
After that, the Long Robe went in.

“Bess!” called the member of the gang from the door,
in an angry voice.

No-answer was returned from the darkness,

Sia GCL cae an ii A I i AR Le ae Line Care RR a A A ca oN eT rR

“You little fool,” went on the man in the long robe,
“did ye think ye could play lame duck with Baker? He’s
fetgot more erbout this hyar bizness in a minit than ye
know in a yar! He seen me, arter- Butfler Bill come
meddlin’ in the room at the Hoc an’ he told me ter
foller, ye ef: I picked up yer trail. Thet’s what I done.
Now, then, ye ain’t goin’ ter give away this hyar gang
no more! Come for’ard an’ give verself up. Don't
try ter sneak out ther back way. It ain't possible. Six
o’ the gang aire out thar, waitin’.
seven 0 us, an’ ye mout as well drap yer hand inter
the discard.”

Little Cayuse, at the other side of the room, heard
all this with a dejected heart.. He had failed! This
man in the long robe was not Baker, but one of the
Dozen. The boy remembered, then, that the scout had
told him there were probably three or four of the Dozen
in long robes.“ As ill luck would have it, Cayuse had
lured the wrong man to the old adobe.

Cayuse had but one thought, and that was to escape.
If there were six men at the rear of the house, his
most likely course was flight by the front, where only
one man was on guard.

Quick as a flash he darted toward the open door.

But, if the Piute was quick, so also was the Long Robe.
The sound of the pattering moccasins guided the man,
and he hurled himself forward. His hands encoun-
tered Cayuse and held to him with a grip of steel.

The boy tried with all his might to wriggle free. He
tried, too, to draw a weapon. One attempt was as
fruitless as the other. The gown hindered his move-
ments, so that the costume he had used to entrap Baker
-was now entrapping himself.

The struggle carried the boy and the man to the floor.
They fell heavily, :

“Hyer! Comte hyer, some o’ you duffers!” called the
man.

There was a fall of feet in the kitchen as several men-

ran toward the front room through the darkness. Their
excited jabbering was in several tongues.

“Shet the door;
light.”

The door was shut and a match struck.

“Better so, sefior,” said one of the six who had en-
tered through the kitchen, “dat you take heem to-de back
room. Dere is a candle dere, an’ de- windows is dark-
ened.”’

This was good advice. Cayuse was dragged by his
captor into the back room. Here the candle was lighted
and the man in the long robe had a chance to discover
his mistake.

Cayuse, with his arms folded, the pointed hood dropped

puffed Cayuse’s captor, “an’ git a

from his head to his shoulders, stood defiantly against >

the adobe wall of the kitchen.
language of an army teamster.

“Who ther blisterin’ blazes aire you?” he demanded.

‘Me all same Little Cayuse,” answered the boy; “all
same pard Pa-e-has-ka. Why you make um trouble for
‘Piute, huh?. Me try have um good time; you come
make um rough house. Ugh!’ .

The boy’s wits were at work. If he could make these
men think that he had not been trying to trap the Long
Robe, then they might let him 20.

“Stow. yer chatter!” scowled the. Long Robe. it
ain’t no mistake we’re makin’. Whar’d ye git that dress?

The Long Robe used the

Thar's only you agin’

 

 
 

 

 

A THE BUFFALO

| Whar’ s the gal thet was wearin’ ef it?
| strangle the reek out o’ yer body!’

Tell meyer Vil

The brawny scoundrel advanced upon Cayuse with his :

ibig hands outstretched. The boy never flinched.

hat for you strangle Piute boy?” he inquired.
“You make um trouble for Cayuse, Pa-e-has-ka make um
heap trouble for you. Me all same Pa-e-has-ka’s pard.”’

‘Who's Pa-e-has-ka ?”’

The Long Robe was mighty ignorant, Cayuse thought,
if he did not knowmwho Pa-e-has-ka was. Everybody
in the Sduthwest knew Pa-e-has-ka.

A pirate pushed forward from among the six. Pull-
ing off his mask, he showed almond eyes and high cheek
bones.

UN y Savvy
allee same Buff’ Bill.
Bill.”

UIs. that night 2" growled the Long Robe.

“Buenos!” spoke up a Mexican. “De muchacho speak
straight, Senor Chick.”
padre of de scout king. Si!”

“Then this hyer opens up a bag o’ tricks that’s mighty
important te the Dozen. Pablo!”

OSG Fe

“You know whar the ole man was ter be. He’s a
cowpunch now, with a white han’kerchief around his
throat. Go _arter him an’ bring him hyer. He’ssgot ter
know erbout this.”

“Pronto, Sefior Chick.” ’

Pablo vanished : and Sefior Cra fell upon Cayuse
with both hands, held him squirming on the floor, and
helped the others tie him.

Cayuse felt like a squaw. He had not accomplished
what Pa-e-has-ka had sent him to do, and his heart grew
heavy. ~

But where were Pa-e-has-ka’s other. pards? They
were to be there, waiting. And Here the little Piute
found himself alone, and at the mercy of seven of the
Dozen.

Still—and the thought gave the boy some measure of
comfort-——they had sent for Baker! Baker would come!
Might it not be that the scout’s pards were waiting for

3aker to come before making their attack?

Fairly contented, therefore, the boy yielded to the
situation.

There had been a mistake, he reckoned.
wearing a long robe, but a cowboy costume.

How had Pa-e-has-ka missed this knowledge?

Pablo was back shoftly and announced that Baker was
coming.
way, but Baker was coming by the front.

The “Mexican had hardly finished his report when
there came sounds from the front of the house that
proved Baker was close at hand.

The door opened softly. Only sharp: ears mote have
heard that opening door.

“We've got you .covered, you vena roared a fa-
miliar voice, as the door leading into the kitchen was
flung ajar... “One move, and there'll be fireworks |”

‘ruin
My no likee Buff’

; Pa-e-has- -ka,” said the-Chinaman.
Whoosh!

The glow of the candle fell dimly over the form of a

man in piratical rig. Through the man’s mask his eyes’
elimmered fiercely.

It was Wild Bill!

Behind him stood a man in cowboy “clothes,
white handkerchief around_his throat.

  

 

He is not de gal, but de com-

Baker was not-

He—Pablo—had come ahead, and by the back

with a

Bite ST ORS: U7

While Cayuse was guessing and wondering, the cow-
boy caught Wild Bill from behind and hurled him back-
ward,

CHAPTER XI. .
WILD BILL’S MISTAKE,

It will-be recalled that it was after Buffalo Bill met
Wald Bill that the scout received his tip to the effect that
Baker had changed his disguise. The Laramie man, ~
therefore, had not been informed; and, because he lacked
this knowledge, he fell into a costly error,

' He came in front of Garcia’s old adobe at the time
when the six members of the gang were separating.
Little Cayuse, in his disguise, was just passing through
the door, and Sefior Chick was close after him.

Wild Bill made his observations from across the street,
hdigging the shadow of a house wall. :

“By gorry,’ he, muttered, as he watched, “I’m com-
pany front with 4 larger order than Pard Cody thought
he was giving me. Cay use has trailed more than half
the Dozen to the adobe, and there are seven against us.
I’m ready to take any chance, but I’ve got to think of
Baker, and making a safe capture.”

He paused and frowned perplexedly, ¢

“That was Baker, of course,’ he went. on, to himself,

‘Who's wearing that friar’s gown and just went in the

froht way. The other six have separated to make the
capture of the supposed girl a success. What’s for me to
do? 2 j

It was not like the Laramie man to consider results
so carefully. Usually it was touch and go with him.
Now, however, the fact that Baker must be captured
appealed to him so powerfully that he was prone to con-
sider ways and means.

Cayuse would be made a prisoner. That would debar
him from any set-to with the gang. All the work de- —
volved on Wild Bill. He had plenty of confidence in his
own ability, but he hesitated about facing seven and
trying to cut out their leader, single- handed.

The thought occurred to him ‘that he might send to
the sheriff's office for help. If he got reénforcements it
must be from the county jail, for there was no finding
the scout or any of the other pards in that crowd of
bedlamites on Washington Street. ‘

But, the Laramie man reasoned, while he was away
getting some messenger to go to the sheriff's office, the
seven, with their prisoner, “might leave the adobe. If
that happened, Wild Bill would lose track of them en-
tirely. .

He made up his mind that he would not leave his post,
but that he would stay where he was and trust luck to
help him out.

Luck had always dealt kindly by ee firane man.
Te had trusted blindly to it a good many times, and it
had not failed him.

Having come to this conclusion, he crouched down in

-an angle of the adobe wall and waited and watched.

Muffled voices came to him from the house across the
narrow street. Things were happening there, there was
no doubt about that. He itched to have a hand’ in what
was going on, but caution still held him back.’

When Pablo left to bring. Baker, he left by the back
way, and escaped the Laramie man’s prying eyes; and

 
 

aa ale aah it

 

(1% GH BURBALO

when Pablo returned he came the same course he had
followed in leaving, and so escaped Wild Bill’s attention
for the second time.

Having exhausted his patience in waiting . Hickok got
up, with “he intention of scouting around the adobe and
seeing what he could discover. ‘As he moved across the
street he saw some one approaching. The man walked
in a leisurely way, and as he came closer, Wild Bill saw
that he was neither a friar, a pirate, nor an old Span-
iard. He wore the costume of a cowboy.

Now, Wild Bill knew very well that nothing was so
deceiving, that night, as the clothes a man wore; and yet,
in spite of this, he felt that here was an accommodating
character, in no way connected with the Dozen, who
might lend a helping hand.

The man came up to Wild Bill rather confidently.
Stopping within a foot of him, he looked him over care-
fully.

“You're American, ain’t you?
low tone.

“Sure,” was the prompt response.

‘That’s a disguise you have on?”

“Not for Joe! You don’t ketch me bogglin’ myself
up with furrin clothes. I stand fer what I am every
day you can find in the almanac.” |

This line of talk pleased the Laramie man.

“Will you help me pull off a piece of work?’ he asked.

“Well, podner, that depends. What’s the work?” '

‘I’ve got a little pard in that house,’ and Wild Bill
pointed to the adobe. “He’s in a heap of trouble. Seven
lawless chaps have him, and I want to get him away
and capture the boss of the outfit. Will you come in on
the deal? The gang consists of chinks and greasers,
with maybe one or two whites. You know how the ordi-
nary run of chinks and greasers stack up in a set-to.
What d’you say?”

The man hesitated.

‘“What’s yer label, podner >” he asked. “When I work
fer anybody, I kinder like to know who it is.”

Wild Bill gave him the desired information,

“Bully!” exclaimed the cowboy. “Say, that ole raw-
hide, Buffler Bill, cuts a heap o’ ice with me. I’m glad
to help. As fer chinks an’ greasers—why, pard, I eat

bs 33

-€m.

“Wow!? chuckled Wild Bill, grabbing the cowboy’s
hand. “Supposing we go in and have stipper ?”
“Keno! Take the lead an’ count on me ter foller.”

Revolvers in hand, the Laramie man led the way to
the door, pushed it open softly, and moved across the
dark front room.

He was on familiar ground, and hardly needed the
yellow light, that rimmed the kitchen door, to guide
him. Close at his heels he could hear his cowboy aide
pushing after him.

To throw open the kitchen door, level his guns, and
shout his defiance took the Laramie man but a moment.
Then, the next moment, he was paralyzed with amaze-
ment.

Some ote grabbed him from behirid, Without a
chance to resist attack from this unexpected quarter, he
was flung to the floor, his revolvers clattering uselessly
down beside him. Two knees dropped on his chest. |

asked Wild Bill in'a

5 SSSR SEE TF 2 eae

Bint Ss PORIES.

UA Tope here-—protita! 1” called the cowboy. FS
There was no rope convenient—Cayuse having al
ready requisitioned what hemp was handy—but the
captors made shift to use the sash which they seeped

from Wild Bill’s waist.

The lashing occupied about five minutes; and during
those five minutes the Laramie man was trying to lay
hold of something tangible in the way of ideas.

It»was not until he had been dragged out into the
kitchen and saw Cayuse that reason returned to him.

“You low-down, two-faced puncher!” cried Wild Bill.
“What did you do that for?’

“T’m Baker,” said the man, with an ugly laugh. “You
dropped into my hands so easy that I didn’t want to
disturb your plans until the last minute.”

“Baker!” Wild Bill’s jaw fell and a glassy stare crept
into his eyes. ‘“‘Baker!. Say, are you the ombray that
slipped out of Yuma?’

“Let that go,’ was the answer. “I'm the ombray
that’s doing some private business in Phenix to-night,
and these are some of my men. I reckon we'll put you
on the retired list, Mr. Wild Bill, until our game is over
with. We may do a little more than that—ean’t tell till
I get the right hitch on this situation.”

He turned to’ one of the men,

“Tell)me about this, Chick,” said he, “and be quick.”

Chick described the manner in which Little Cayuse had

been captured, and had proved to be a different person

from what he had supposed.

“It may hev been er mistake,’”’ said Chick, “an’ only
a happenchance thet the Piute wore clothes like the gal’s

nyt ‘

“Mistake nothing!’ snarled Baker. “I’ve just been
talking with Siwash. THe tells me that Bangham and his
deputies are at the house in Geronimo Street, and that,
as near as he could figure out, the girl tipped our hand
and put not only the sheriff and his deputies, but Buffalo .
Bill and his pards on our track. Siwash was spying
around the Geronimo Street place, and he heard a lot.
This proves’”—and he waved an angry hand toward
Little Cayuse—‘“‘that Cody and his pards are hot on our
trail; it proves that, after he butted in on me when [|
was talking with the girl at the Palace, she let him in
,on everything. Cody rigged up the Piute to play the
girl’s part, hoping to catch me; and he sent Wild Bill
to the front of this adobe to help the Piute pull off the
job. Two and two make four, Chick, and this is as plain
as that—just about. Give me a piece of paper, some-
body.

It was one of the Chinamen who found a piece of
paper. Baker had a pencil.

Sitting on the bench, he wrote for a few minutes in-
dustriously. When he had finished, he folded the paper
and called Pablo. The Mexican moved forward.

“As I just said, Pablo,’ remarked Baker, “the sheriff
and a couple of deputies are at the Geronimo Street
house. They're disguised, same as the Dozen—a fact
that’s fooled us not a little this night. I want you to
take this note to eighteen Geronimo Street, push it
under the door, knock, and get out of the way. Sabe?
When you leave, go to the coulee back of the dollar
dealer’s, where we “left the horses. Stay there. We've
got to wind up matters muy pronto and get out of town.
J reckon that note will set Bangham and Buffalo Bill

 
 

 

IE SiR LARA alc BD er maser hae i gee gg ante NC gS eh Ng oo ana eh ph Sah hi paa ante et tor me SOE eC NG ts Bias tact RUS Hh ak

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

ssn yams Seperation ee er ee

 

tHE BURP AL®

to thinking. They'll hold their hands, I’ll gamble, until
_ we can make a getaway. If they don’t——”
Baker finished with a hard laugh.
“St,” said Pablo, taking the note and leaving the
house. :

“What was in thatr’ demanded Wild Bill wrathfully.

“Why,” answered Baker, “I merely informed Bang-
ham that we had Little Cayuse and Wild Bill in our
hands, and that if he and the scout didn’t call off their
men and leave us alone, Little Cayuse. and Wild Bill
would have cause to regret it.”

A cry of defiance broke’ from Hickok,

“You'll not lay a murderous finger on me or the Pi-

ute!” he declared. “You haven't the nerve!”
Baker got up from the bench and walked over to the
Laramie man. Looking down on him with glistening,

malevolent eyes, he muttered:

“Let Cody or Bangham get between me and the work
I’m planning to do, and you'll find out how much nerve
Lorenzo Baker has!
happened in the Harqua Halas, eh?
the girl to tell you about that!”

He whirled away. The impression that short speech
made on Wild Bill was far from reassuring,

I ‘reckon you never heard what
You'd better get

CHAPPER XIT
PULLING THE WIRES.

Baker, his face stern and inflexible, turned to Chick.

“We cant stay here,” said he.
to Buffalo Bill. Before he makes trouble for us we've
got to get these prisoners where they'll be safe from him
and safe for us. Sabe the burro, Chick? And whatever
we do, man, has got to be done in a hustle.”

“Wharll we take em?’ inquired Chick, “It, aint
possible, not noways, ter take ’em acrost “Washin'ton
Street ter the chink quarter. Too many people ter
savvy.” ™

“Right. I had already decided that.
a place that will answer. Gag ’em.”

This work of gagging was thoroughly and expedi-
tiously performed. Wild Bill was sputtering his wrath
and defiance when the twisted handkerchief silenced
him.

“Tote ’em along,” ordered Baker, “and follow me.
The last man out shut the door and blow out the candle.
And throw away those cigarettes, you men who are
smoking, but throw ’em away outdoors. Come quietly;
you know the need of that as well as I do.”

Cayuse and Wild Bill were lifted and borne from the
adobe. Baker led the bearers between two dark houses
at the rear of the unused house, then half around the
block to a gravel pit.

A steep descent led into the pit, and the prisoners

“This roost is known

I think I know

BIL SPORTS, 1D.
were pulled and hauled, and dropped: once or twice,
before the bottom was reached.

No better place for hiding prisoners could have been
devised. Daylight, of course, would have lifted the veil
of secrecy that shrouded the pit, but Baker and his
Dozen were manceuvring to finish their nefarious work
and escape long before sunrise.

“Yore head’s all right, amigo,” chuckled Chick, when
the prisoners had been laid down in the pit’s bottom.
“Thar’s ain’t no houses clost ter the rim o’ this hole, an’
no reason on airth that them fellers should be diskiv-
ered. What’s the next move?’

“Our next move,’ answered Baker, “is in the direction
of the dealer in dollars’

“Goin’-ter leave the pris’ners hyer alone?”

“Well, not exactly. We'll let Joe Wing stay with
them. You know the trick of the cord, Wing?”

“All same yellow cord, hey?’
Chinamen.

"Ovi sane.

“My savvy cord ‘tlick.” :

“If I send some one to you, Joe, with orders,to get
busy with the bowstring, you don’t want to lose any
tine.’

“Can do,” answered the yellow man calmly.

“Let me git holt o’ this right, amigo,” said Chick.
“We're now goin’ ter make our raid. Joe Wing stays
hyer with the pris’ners. If we git away with the stuff,
then the pris’ners is left hyer. Is that it?’

nats it. /

“An’ if thar’s any interference with us, then ye send
one o’ the Dozen ter the pit with a cord an’ orders.
Hey?’

“You follow me nicely, Chick.”

“An’ if we make the raise——

“Then, Chick, some one comes for Joe with a led
horse, and they follow us into the hills. -When to-

returned one of the
| ¥

39

‘morrow comes, the prisoners will be located by some one

in the quarter. They'll be released, and can go to
Buffalo Bill and tell the scout how Baker fooled ’em.”

Chick laughed huskily and clapped his leader on+the
back.

“Say, amigo, 1 wisht I had yore head!” he exclaimed
effulgently. ‘You got an eighteen-karat brain, an’ Ill
match it agin’ Buffer Bill’s any day. But how erbout
the divvy when we grab the swag? I’d like that set-
tleda

“Share an’ share alike, Chick,’ answered Baker. “All
I want is enough to see me to some Mexican port with
nothing to worry over until I reach the Sandwich Is-
lands, or Japan, or South Africa. Tl treat all you fel-
lows white—chinks, @reasers, and Americans. But you
know I’ve got to put several thousand miles of ocean
between me and Yuma, and you know I’ve got to have
money’to do it.”

9?
!

 
     
  

THE: BUPFALO

 

“Ye’re ace-high with all o’ us, Baker!” declared Chick.
“Thar ain't a yaller streak in ye, not nowhar.”’

“Well, let’s climb out of this hole. Keep your guns
handy, Wing,” he added to the Chinaman who was to
be left on watch.
slippery lot, and you’ve got to be on the job every
second.”

“My savvy,” answered Joe Wing; “can do.”

Then Wild Bill and Cayuse, lying sprawled on the
hard gravel, watched the dusky figures of the men climb
upward, stand clear. cut and distinct for a moment on
the rim of the pit, then fade from sight.

There was much that Hickok yearned to tell the little
Piute, and a good deal that the “Piute would have liked
to tell Hickok, but they could only turn their heads
toward each other and stare through the dark.

Baker was pulling his wires in clever fashion; and it
was not a comfortable reflection for the Laramie man
that he had helped.

Why, Wild Bill asked himself, had the scout made
such a mistake in Baker’s costume? Baker was sup-
posed to be wearing friar’s clothes, and he had turned
up in front of Garcia’s old adobe in cowboy rig.

Then Wild Bill remembered that the scout had appro-
priated Baker’s hooded gown. ‘This left the leader of
the Dozen without a disguise, and very likely the
“chaps,” sombrero, and flannel shirt were all the gar-
ments he had to fall back on.

It was easy for the helpless man in the gravel pit

to look back and see where he might have proceeded
differently. But there was no use fretting over what
could not be helped, and Hickok began trying his
strength on the twisted sash that held his hands.
The sash
was a good substitute for rope, and held firmly, Fur-
thermore, Joe. Wing had eyes like a cat’s, and seemed
able to observe in the dark what was going on.

‘He was not able to accomplish anything.

“No makee tly bleakee loose,” he grunted,

to Wild Bill’s
muzzle of a revolver.
waitee fol yello’ cord.”

What Wild Bill thought whout hig Wing would not
have looked well in print. He talked wrathiully behind
the gag, but the words merged into.a long, wheezy gur-
gle without sense or any particular sound.

stepping

“You makee tly some mo’, ny no

The Chinaman sat down between the two prisoners,
his revolvers on his knees. Suddenly, as Wild Bill
watched him, he pricked up his ears, listened intently,
then lifted his eyes to the rim of the pit,

Something had rattled at the pit’s brink. Wild Bill
and Cayuse had both heard the fioise, and their eyes
were not slow in following Joe Wing’s.

A man was standing at the edge of the wide hole,
standing quite still and looking down.

         

Bi

“Buffalo Bill and his pards are a

vent to a low whistle.

‘clanking down the steep slope.

side and poking him in the ribs with the

Against the

Ltt ei delet moe: acon emcee ennai sat tnk-aAR eo Neos day

    

S TORTS.

 

lighter background of the stars he was seen to be wear-
ing a helmet and plume, and there was a sheen of steel | |
on his breast that suggested armor. There was a long |
\
j

  

sword at his side, too.

Joe Wing lifted one of the revolvers and squinted
along the barrel. The man above offered a good target,
but the Chinaman had reasons for not wishing to make
any noise.

“Another of this blooming gang!” thought Wild Bill.
“Maybe it’s the fellow sent back by Baker to tell the
chink to use the bowstring. He looks like an ancient
Spaniard. Has he brought the yellow cord or a couple
of horses?”
- On the answer to this question hung the fate of the
two prisoners.

Evidently the Chinaman was doing a little speculating
alone the same line. Lowering the revolver, he gave

The whistle was answered from the top of the bank.
No sooner was the answer returned than the man began

It was quite plain that his disguise was more than he
could handle, for he made hard work of the descent.
Halfway down, he tripped and rolled the rest of the
way, making noise enough for a threshing machine.

 

He stopped suddenly, hitting against a bowlder that
had somehow found its way into the hole. His steel
corselet rang like a fire bell as he hit the bowlder.

Joe Wing, starting up, ran toward the stranger who
had just falled in.

Just what happened after that was ne hazily im-
pressed on Wild Bill and Cayuse.

The form of Wing could be seen to stoop; then the
form of the stranger and the Chinaman mixed into one
dark shadow, which swayed, and staggered, and stum-
bled,

The Chinaman grunted wrathfully. At last, after min-

‘utes that seemed like hours, the ungainly blot went down

When the blot arose it was thinner and more
certain in its movements.

“They've had a fight!’ thought the amazed Hickok.
“One of the Dozen has taken a fall out of another! And
here’s one that’s got the best of the set-to coming this
way. Which is it, the Spaniard or the chink?”

again.

The clankety-clank which accompanied the approach-
ing figure proved that the stranger had been the victor.
What had happened to Joe Wing was problematical.
Hickok was not wasting any regrets on the Chinaman,
but he was considerably wrought up over the ancient
Spaniard.

“Hello, vonce!”’ called the newcomer in a voice that
proved he was no stranger. “Vere you vas, Vild Pill?
Cayuse, vere you peen mit yourseluf?”

Frantic sounds came from behind the gags. The
(Dutchman in armor approached close to the Laramie

 

       

caer dae ane Ueda oat antes

 

 
’ der vay I got you oudt oof dot fix, hey?
grickeds, bard, it dakes more as a shink to put me on’

 

 

aged to find Cayuse and me:

 

THE BUFFALO

man, went down on his knees, and took off the twisted
handkerchief.
“Baron!” gasped Hickok.
“Dot’s me,” jubilated the baron. “Vat you tink oof
Py shiminy

der mat!”

CHAPTER XIII.

FINDING THE HORSES.

The baron quickly released Wild Bill and Cayuse, then
sat down for a little rest.

“T haf hat. more fun do-nighdt,’. he laughed, “as a
parrel oof monkies, yah, so helup me. Fairst vone t’ing,
den anodder ting habbens py me vat I don’d oxpect,
und all der time der oxcidement iss more as I[ can tell.

Say, bards, I vish dey hat a fiesta efery nighdt in der

veek. You no sooner ged oudt oof vone subbrise as
you fall indo anodder. Und dot’s der vay.”
“Where did you pick up that rig, baron?’
Laramie man.
“Der feller vat toldt me aboudt Paker shanged rigs
He say oof I got on some gostumes like dis

asked the

mit me,
dot meppyso I connect mit some oof der gang. ag
Vata time, vat a time!”

The baron heayéd a long, happy sigh, ‘then caught
himself with a sudden grab at his chest.

“Ouch, a leedle!’’ he muttered. “Dere iss a sblinter
in dis iron coat vat shticks me py der rips efery vonce
und some more. I yould haf got oudt oof der t’ing long
ago oof I couldt. Say, Vilt Pill, I haf dit somet’ing for
you, und vill you be so goot to d6 a leedle for me?
Take an axe, or somet’ing, und shop me oudt oof dis
poiler blate.’’

Wild Bill got behind the Dutchman and unbuckled the
straps. As the corselet dropped, the baron gave is a
joyful kick; then he pulled off the helmet and kicked
it after the other piece of armor.

“No more oof dot for Villum von Schnitzenhauser !”
he declared.

“Easy, there, baron,’ cautioned Wild Bill.
work ahead. Do you want a hand in it?”

‘You bed my life I] vant a handt in vatefer dere iss
going !”’

“Then it’s safer to wear. that eesti for a while
longer. We've got to get busy.”

“Vat aboudt? I vould suffer all der discomfortings
bossiple for more oxcidement! Dot iss pread und trink
to me. It makes no odds aboudt der tifference vat I
haf to year, schust so dot you gif me some lifely times.
Aber, I tell you dose, it vas hardt to be lifely mit t’ings
like dot holding you down.”

“First off,’ went on Wild Bill, “tell me ae you man-
9)?

“There is

       
    

  

BILL STORES.

“Dot’s easy. I see a pirate on Vashington Shdreet.
You bed you I peen on der lookoudt for dem fellers. 1
come along mit der pirate to dot Garcia house. He go
in py der pack door, und | vait around. Den dere iss
some noises in der house,’und den pympy some fellers
come oudt mit some odder fellers vat is carried. I findt
me oudt, pooty soon, dot der fellers vat is carried vas
Vild Pill und Leedle Cayuse. Vata subbrise iss dot! 1
valk along und vait py der edge oof der pig hole; den,
afder a vile, ven eferyt’ing seems bromising, | show
meinseluf und make some shtar blays. Vat you tink?
Ain’d I some rekular virlvinds ?”’

The baron was intensely proud of his exploit.

“You're a regular cyclone, baron!’ declared Wild
Bill. :

“Tell him to Puffalo Pill, vill you? Led him ‘know
vat a fine feller he got for a Dutch bard.’

“Tl tell him, you can gamble on. that.”

“How you ged in dot fix, huh, you und Cayuse?”

“We haven’t time for that now. While Cayuse and
I were in the hands of the gang we overheard some
of their plans. They've gone to make their raid.”

‘“‘Ah-h-h, so! Gone for der raid! Und vere iss dot?’

“Ata place in Chinatown where a chink deals in dol-
lars. That’s as much-as I know.”

“Py shinks, I teal in tollars meinseluf, in some lim-
idet vays. You don’d know der blace?”’

“No, baron, but well have to find it. The horses are
behind the dollar dealer's shop.”

“Den ve make some dracks, eh?. Ve go ofer py China-
down und find der blace vere der feller teals in tollars.
Vat a funny pitzness! Eferypody teals in tollars, some
more, und some less, aber——”

“What did you do to the Chinaman?”

“Vell, he tumpled down mit himseluf und hit his headt
on der rock vat I hit on, a leedle vile pefore. He lost
his vits, afder dot, und | dook mein swordt oudt oof
der t'ing vat holdts der plade und run him droo more
as a tozen times!”

“What a bloodthirsty Dutchman you are, ieee a Fiesta
Night! Cayuse will help you into your iron shell, baron,
while I go and see what I can do for the Chinaman.”

22

“Dig some holes for him,’ answered the baron, “‘dot’s

all ‘vat you can do.’

Although the Laramie man hunted high and low, he
wasn’t able to find the Chinaman. He found the baron’s
sword, hoysever, and a lighted match failed to show any
erewsome stains on tne blade. When he got back to
the Dutchman and Cayuse, the corselet and helmet had
been put in place.

“Dit you findt der sword, Vild Pill?’ demanded the
baron,

“That’s all I did find,” was the answer.
man is gone.”

“The China-

     

 
   

   
 

  

  

Y | 7
ss. iasaneltnnen est ncenitiennl atmos cam! Ratlreneetie nn Sw Se bien ctv spit etter ns an i te subs)

THE BUREPALO

“How you make dot oudt?
leaf mit himseluf all cut oop like some bepper boxes?”

“You never touched him with the sword, baron. That
was a dream. The Chinaman hit his head on the stone
and lost his wits; then, wie we were talking, he got
out of the pit and ran away.”

“Vell, vell,” muttered the baron, “I ought I hit him
mit der sword, und I don’d do dot ad all! Vere you
tink der feller vent?” ;

“Into Chinatown, of course! He’s gone to tell Baker
what’s happened. The quicker we follow him, the more
success we will have. Come on!”

“Shall.ve do dis mitoudt Puffalo Pill to helup ?”

“We haven't time to look up Pard Cody. I have made
a big bobble to-night, and I’d like to do something to
make up for it.”

Cayuse grunted approvingly. His ideas and Wild
Bill’s were running in the same groove.

The baron had to be helped up the steep slope, but
when the party reached the crest they had clear sailing
in the direction of Washington Street and the Chinese
quarter.

The costumes of the three had suffered considerably
in the rough experiences that had overtaken the pards.
Cayuse’s disguise was torn and crumpled, Wild Bill was
minus his. sash and half of the wide brim of his hat
had been torn away, aan the baron’s armor was badly
battered.

They reached Wactinsion Street, to find that the
crowd was thinning somewhat at that end of the thor-
oughfare. There was still plenty of noise and plenty
of hilarity, but the revelers were beginning to tire of the
foolishness.

The pards crossed the street and dived into the gloomy
alleys of Chinatown. At one of the long adobe walls
the three paused while Wild Bill knocked on a door.
There was lamplight inside, for a glow shone around
the edges Of the window shades.

A bolt was drawn, the door opened by a couple of
inches, and a Celestial peered out.

“Whachee want?’ he inquired.

“Where’s the dollar dealer?’ asked Wild Bill.

“Wanchee buy Mexican dolla’s?”

_“That’s what the chink sells, ain’t it?”

““Las’ house in block. nee Moy sellee ve cheap.
You go ketchee dolla’s aw ri’.

The door closed and the bolt was shoved into place.

-“That chink must be a capper for Yuen Moy,’ mut-
tered Wild Bill. ‘Last house in the block, eh? That’s

the place on the/other corner.”
“Don’d vaste some more time,”
ing off with rattling briskness ;
on ourselufs.”
Wild Bill grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
“Not so fast, baron,’

urged the baron, start-
“led’s ged some moofs

he whispered. “We're after the

ii ee aca eae

     

  

BELL

How could der Shinaman .

Bill,

Se in. class ifn be ical st sak ehi ain -ae iat a

     

 

STORIES.

horses, you know, and they’re behind the dollar dealer's
Our trail leads us along the rear of the build-
This way.”

Little Cayuse, as usual, was saying, nothing.

shop.
ings, and not along the front.
But he
was all eyes and ears. Nothing ‘escaped him. He and
the baron followed Wild Bill around that end of the
adobe block and, in the rear, found a swale, overgrown
with greasewood bushes.

This block of shops was at the very edge of that part
of town. Beyond the rear doors lay the open country.
“That coulee is where the horses are,” ee Wild

“and Til gamble my spurs on it.”

“Und so vill I, py shinks!” spoke up the baron.
a fine blace to hite some horses.”

“You stay at the top of the bank, baron,” said Wild
Bill, “and Cayuse and I will prospect the coulee.”

Por vy cant beor”

“You rattle too much. If there’s any one guarding
the horses, Cayuse and I will have fo come up on them
without any noise. Wait here until we come back.”

tN ae

The Laramie man and the Piute slid down the bank
and vanished among the bushes. The baron waited
fifteen or twenty minutes. By that time his patience was
exhausted, and he was just on the point of rattling down
into the swale and looking for his pards when Wild Bill
suddenly emerged from the bushes.

“Baron!” whispered Wild Bill.

“On teck !”? answered the baron.
ding?”

“We've spotted the mounts,” was the answer, “and
there are thirteen of them, all togged out with riding
gear, water canteens, and haversacks. The Dozen are
ready for the run Of their lives. No one was with the
horses..* Cayuse and I are going to take them to the
Ranch Eight corral. He'll lead five and I'll lead six, and
well each ride one. After Baker makes his raid, he'll
be bothered some in making his getaway; and that, you
see, will give Bangham and his deputies a chance to nab
hith,”

“Pully !” chuckled the baron. “You und Cayuse rite
avay der horses, und vat does dot leaf for me?’

“That’s what I came back to tell you. Hang around
the dollar dealer’s, baron. Keep a weather eye out for
Baker and the gang. As soon as Cayuse and I get the
horses into the corral, we'll come to the corner shop.
Meanwhile, you locate a good big bunch of trouble so
we can help you handle it.”

“Yah,.-so. I vill’see vat I can do. \ For all oof haluf
an hour, now, dere has nod ae anyding going on.
Someding vill durn oop, I bed you.”

Wild Bill dropped back into the coulee, and the baron
rattled away to the farther end of the block and moved
through the shadow of the adobe wall in the direction
of the front of the shop.

‘The long sword continued to bother him. Half a

“Dit you findt some-

     
  

elk hr bas oes dhs laian eth, an hin lel: ates nen lel aes athe ear Pie spc Mele hectic

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

THE BUFFALO

dozen times it swung between his moving knees, and he
barely saved himself a fall; then, the last time, he was
thrown headlong, and landed on the plume of his helmet.

He felt like saying things, but. restrained himself,
Barely had he climbed to his feet when he saw a cloaked
figure and a man in what seemed to be cowboy fixings
rushing toward him. Drawing the sword with some dif-
ficulty, he placed his back to the wall.

“Keep off!” he threatened; “keep avay from me, oder
py shinks I cut you in doo!” :

“Waugh!” muttered the man in the cloak, “how he
does tune up! Snarlin’ catermounts!. Why, ye’d think
he was a hired man’ instid of er pard.”

“Put down that long sword, baron,” said another
voice; “you'll be getting yourself into hot water with it,

next thing you know.”

The baron dropped the long blade. a;

“Puffalo Pill!” he gasped. “Iss dot bossiple? Und
olt Nomat! Afder all vat I peen droo, here vas der pig-
gest subbrise oof all. Shake, bards! I half peen doing
someding. Ask me aboudt it.”

CHAPTER: XIV,
THE RAID.

“This hyar takes ther persimmon!” exclaimed old No-
tad. “We never expected ter see you hyar,: baron,’

“Dit you oxbect to see me got oop like some Span-
?” queried the Dutchman, with a smothered laugh.

“We expected that, pard,” “You
see, we have met the deputy that borrowed your Mex-
ican clothes. This meeting is a lucky thing. You are
in time to help us locate Wild Bill and Cayuse. They

jards?
answered the scout.

29

have
“Shtop a leedle,” put in the baron, swelling up as much
as his steel coat would allow, “I vish to rebort, Puffalo
Pill, dot 1 haf foundt der bards und made some resgues.
Vild Pill und Cayuse vas as safe as anypody. Me,
Paron. von Schnitzenhauser, iss der vone vat dit it.”
He slapped his steel breastplate, and just then the
“splinter” dug him in the ribs and doubled him up.
“All. thet sounds too good ter be true,’
Nomad,
“Where were our pards, baron?” asked the scout,
how did you work through the trick ?”

 

said old

“and

“Fairst, blease,”’ answered the baron, “unputton der
iron coat so dot I can take him off. Dere iss someding
insite vich cuts a hole in me efery time vat I take a
long breat’.

- He backed up to Nomad, and ite latter freed him of
that part of his armor.

“Ye kain’t tell me nothin’ erbout how the thing feels,
said the trapper consolingly; “I had the same

Jigs

baron,”

BILL STORIES, A 23

kind of er outfit on fer a spell.
ter animiles, an’ no mistake.”

The baron kicked the corselet out of the way.

“I vill tell you: all aboudt dot shtar blay oof mine,”
he remarked.
T vas 4 :
He \was interrupted by 2 revolver. shot.

 

The sharp

crack of the weapon came from the other side of the
It was followed by a screech; as-of a China-

mud wall.
man in distress, and then by a scuffling of feet, a mumble

of voices speaking hurriedly, and other sounds of tur-

moil and violence.

The scout gave a startled jump.

“The. dealer in Mexican money, pards!’”’ he cried.
“Baker is making a raid on the chink!
chance to lay the scoundrel by the heels!”

Buffalo Bill whirled away and rushed back to the

front of the building. The baron followed him. No-.

mad, thinking swiftly, turned toward the rear of the
structure.
With the scout a the baron blocking escape from
the shop at the front, it was reasonable to suppose that
some of the gang would attempt to escape at the rear.
The old trapper, seeing this point, covered it without

waiting for orders.

To the scout’s surprise, the front door of the money:
Nomad, at nearly the same:

dealer’s shop was locked.
moment, discovered the same condition pt affairs at the
rear.

kick beside the door latch. The door shook under the
attack.
rier, burst it inward.

At the same instant, old Nomad crashed in the rear

door with a four-fogt length of ironwood: taken from
Yuen Moy’s s woodpile.

The scout and the baron. rushed into a small room,
He was ,

and found an old Chinaman lying on the floor.
groaning, and had evidently been injured.

An iron door, set.in the adobe wall, was swung out-.

ward, revealing the place where the Chinaman kept his
Mexican dollars. The vault was shallow, and one glance
showed that it had been stripped of its wealth.

There was a short counter on the opposite side of the
room, with an ink pot, a brush, and a pile of yellow
paper.
stand, and there were three or four chairs scattered
about.

But there was no one else in the room besides the

Chinaman.

Buffalo Bill ran to the Celestial and knelt done be-
One of the man’s yellow hands was pressed”
to his right shoulder, where a blot of red was ee

side him.

through his yellow: blouse.
“Did some one steal your money ?” asked the scout.

Them things is cruelty

“Dis iss der vay how it habbened. Vile.

Here’s our.

Lifting one of his heavy boots, the scout planted a’.

The baron, hurling himself against the frail bar- .

A nargileh pipe stood in a corner, on a low *

6

 
 

 

 

 

THE BUPFALO

~The Chinaman jabbered in his native tongue.

“Talk English—quick!” cried Buffalo Bill.

“Melican man takee money! Chinaman, greaser man,
help takee. Melican man.shootee Yuen Moy!”

“Where are the thieves?”

ENO sabe.”

“How did they get in here?”

Before Yuen Moy could answer, he fainted from the
shock. It could not have been anything else that sent
his, Celestial wits wool-gathering, for the scout’s keen
eye told him the wound was: not overly serious.

At that moment a man rushed into the shop from a
room in the rear. He hada revolver in his right hand,
and, with his left, was carrying a matting bag.
~-“Thar’s one of ’em, pard!’’ whooped old Nomad, from
behind the man. “I was watching the rear door, an’ he
tried ter git out thar! Grab him!”

The trapper’s shout died in the vicious bark of a six-
shooter. The bullet fanned the scout’s cheek and
plunked into the adobe wall. .

- With a furious yell, the baron leaped at the man, only
to meet 4he flying -bag which the fellow had launched
at him. The matting sack was filled with silver pesos
and made rather a formidable missile.

The baron, struck squarely, toppled to the floor beside
the Chinaman.

‘Keep away from me, er I'll wipe ye out!”
fugitive. s

The next moment he had thrown himself over the
counter. Buffalo Bill plunged after him,
the counter just in time to see a panel in the wall slide
shut.

It was a concealed panel, and had the scout not seen
it close, he would not have believed there was any open-
ing in the wall.

With a kick he smashed the puke and a black hole,
three feet square, gaped in front of him.

Baker and his men, he reasoned, must have come into
the money dealer’s shop through the opening, and all
had made their escape in the same way.

Without. hesitating a moment, he climbed through the
hole.

_ “Both doors was locked,’ Buffler,” panted Nowiad, fol-
lowing the scout, “an’ ther tinhorns must hev broke in

on the ole chink this hyar way. Whar did thet ombray
gor

roared the

getting over

The two pards were in blank darkness, but from some
place ahead of them they could hear muffled sounds of
feet hurrying away.

“We're on the right track, Nick,” the scout flung back.
“Trail along, and we'll see where we land. It’s Baker,
all right, who’s doing this,”

“Shore et’s ther Dozen! But et’s a sneak game fer
twelve men ter play on one lone chink.”

' Buffalo Bill, crossing a cleared stretch of floor, came

Beetroot xn Pa Se RAG eat ie

RS EN al Ee RS ge eS I TR CR aR ee ie a Se RT ae. el Sa als Sh

   

BILE STORIES.

abruptly to a solid wall. He fumbled in his pockets for
a match and struck one.

There was a door in this partition.

a yell:

“Look hyar, pard!”

The scout whirled around. Through the broken panel
came a glow of light. Nomad, standing well within the
yellow gleam, was pointing to a hole in the roof.

“That’s the way they went,’ exclaimed the scout.
“There’s a ladder leading up to the trap.”

’ He began climbing the ladder, and soon was head
and shoulders above the roof. The starlight, which fell
over the whole block of roofs, revealed none of the
Dozen.

Stepping from the top at the ladder, Buffalo Bull
walked to the rear edge of the roof. Here there was
a second ladder. Dark forms were scurrying away to-
ward a brushy coulee less than a hundred feet oo the
back dodrs of the long building.

“T've spotted them, Nick!” called the scout. “Their

horses are over in that swale, and they’re making for

‘em full kelter, I reckon they'll eS us—-unless Bang-
ham found the mounts.”
“Foller ’em, anyways!”
from the top of the ladder.

The urging was unnecessary. Buffalo Bill was al-
ready halfway down the second ladder.

cried . the oe jumping

He was six yards in the lead when Nomad touched

solid ground, and the last of the gang was just vanish-

ing duskily over the top of the coulee.

At any moment the scout, running at his best speed,
expected to hear a pounding of hoofs, announcing the
escape of the gang. But no such sound reached his ears.
Instead, there came the rattle of half a dozen revolver
shots, fired at irregular ‘intervals. To this ominous

noise was stiddenly added yells of an attacking force.

“It’s Baker and his gang! They’re looking for their
mounts—and they’ll never find them. Now’s our chance,
Bangham.” p

“Whoop!” cried the old trapper. “Did ye hyer' thet,
Buffler? / Ef et wasn’t Wild a a-torkin’, then I never
heerd him.”

The scout did not reply—he needed hid reath for
something else. While Nomad was speaking, the scout
dropped over the top of the coulee and was in the thick
of the set-to.

CHAPTER. XV.

oR OU Lan Geel hn ee OIZ BN

There, among the bushes of the dark coulee, it was
difficult to distinguish between friend and foe. The
branches ¢rashed, there was a sound of blows, an occa-

Sh ie ce eal A ll A ae a Ta ah he lara a BTA, el PRE aR

He was about to —
lay hold of the latch when the trapper stopped him with

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

‘THE BUFFALO

sional shout of anger, and now and then the sound of a
man running.
- The scout, the moment he was in the brush, encoun-
tered some one who tried to lay hold of him. A word
from the man proved him to be Bangham, and it came
just in time to stop the scout’s fist.

“Sheer off, Bangham,” called the scout;
Bill. Where are the raiders?”

“All around’ us,’
without :

At that imstant the sheriff came to close aa with
a foe, the suddenness of the encounter lending point

“is Buttalo

was the answer; “you can’t: move

 

‘to his words.

The scout ran on down the slope of the cone calling

“loudly for Wild Bill.

The Laramie man answered from a distance. In try-
ing to reach him, Buffalo Bill ran into a hurrying form.
No questions were asked, and the two men came to
hand grips without delay.

Buffalo Bill’s hand slid along his antagonist’s right

‘arm. Instinctively the scout knew there was a knife in

the hand, and at the wrist he brought his fingers to-
gether in a viselike clutch.

A gasp of pain came from the man, and eine
dropped from his fingers. The scout‘released the wrist
and caught at the man’s throat. His fingers came in
contact with a knotted handkerchief—a white handker-
chief, unless the deep shadows of the coulee were play-
ing deceptively with the scout’s eyes.

“Baker!” cried Buffalo Bill, twisting his fingers in the
handkerchief. :

“Who are you?’ gritted Baker.

“The man who caught your wrist once before—in the
Palace of Chance.”

An oath fell from the convict’s lips.

“You're responsible for this!’ he hissed.
you, I’d have won out. You'll pay for it!”

“But for

Then, with all the skill and with every ounce of
strength in his control, the convict tried to exact from
the king of scouts a debt of vengeance.

Baker was not long in finding that he was in the
hands of one who had mastered every detail of such a
rough and tumble.

Struggling and fighting, the two fell into ihe Biche
There they rolled and twisted until the scout got his
fingers fairly about his antagonist’s throat.

By that time lanterns were bobbing up and down the
coulee like so many fireflies. The Chinamen, angered at
the attack made on Yuen Moy, had come with lights to
the scene of the battle.

Little Cayuse, taking a lantern from one of the yellow
men, went looking for Pa-e-has-ka. Wild Bill, having

captured a thieving Chinaman, found himself with noth-

ing more to do, and joined the Piute in his search.

 

BILL STORIES. 25

“Pard Cody!” shouted the Laramie man, as he. and
Cayuse weaved their way through the bushes of the
coulee.

The scout heard and answered. A moment later Wild
Bill and the boy were at the scout’s side.

“Who've you got there, pard?’ asked Hickok.

“Baker,” was the reply.

“Glory! He’s the one we want, and I was afraid he
had given us the slip.”

“Take off his belt, Hickok, ” said the scout, “and let’s
get his hands lashed. He’s quite a handful, and he don’t
seem to know when he’s beaten.”

While Cayuse held the lantern, the Laramie man bent
down, unbuckled Baker’s belt, and then, while the scout
twisted the squirming form over on its side, the wrists
were brought sharply backward and made secure.

The instant the scout got up, Baker also staggered to
his feet. Wild Bill laid hold of him.

“It’s ‘your old friend, amigo,’ murmured Wild Bill
‘the old friend you helped so neatly at Garcia's
You ought to know I'd
But don’t give me a

grimly, *
house in the Mexican quarter.
do anything for you, after that.
chance to do too much,”

The veiled significance of the words was not lec upon
the convict.

At that juncture Bangham rushed up.

“Séén anything of Baker?” he asked, distinguishing
the little group in the lantern’s light.

“Here he is,’ answered the Laramie man.
see him, Bangham?”

“Fine!” exulted the sheriff.
all our trouble. See you later.”

“Where are you going?” called the scout.

‘Nomad and I are collecting loot,” he answered. “The
chinks have flocked down here from that row of ’dobes,
and are finding bags of dollars all through the chaparral.
Nomad and I are holding them up as they come. out of
the swale.”

“Can't you

“T reckon this is worth —

“T reckon they're mostly friends of Yuen, Moy’s, and —
that they’d turn the stuff over to him.”

“That's what I reckon, but you never can tell what a
chink’ll do.”

Bangham hurried off.

“What were you doing in this coulee, Hickok ae
queried the. scout. aa
~ “Cayuse and I found the gang’s horses hidden away
here,” answered Hickok, keeping one arm through Ba-
ker’s, and touching him now and then with the muzzle of
a’ six-shooter, “and we started to take them to the Ranch
Eight corral. Bangham stopped us before we'd got out
of the quarter. When he found out who we were and
what we had, he got Bly and Sproul from somewhere
in Geronimo Street, and the live stock was turned over
to them. Bangham, Cayuse, and yours truly came back

 
 

 

   

here. We reached the coulee=just as the trouble was
turned on in that corner ’dobe, so we were nicely fixed
to give the gang a warm welcome. But the brush and
the darkness rather worked against us. Baker and one
chink are all we managed to capture. The rest, unless

later returns change the result, have faded away. They
didn’t ‘take the loot, though. The tinhorns couldn’t
bother with that when their necks were in danger. They

dropped their bags and took to their heels.”

“That straightens the matter out, to some extent,
Pard Hickok,” said the scout; “but how did the baron
get you away from Baker and his men?”

Hickok explained, going back far enough in his talk
to acknowledge his costly error at Garcia’s adobe.

“I reckon, by gorry,” he finished, “that I’ve sawed
off even for that. If it hadn’t been for Cayuse and me,
Baker and his men would have found their horses and
made good with their clean-up.”

“You and Cayuse certainly rang the bell,’ declared the
scout. “There’s nothing left to worry you about this
night’s doings.’’

‘Buffalo Bill, leaving the Piute and the Laramie man
to ‘take care of Baker, climbed out of the coulee and
made his way back to Yuen Moy’s Mexican-dollar em-
porium.,

' The Chinaman was lying on a cot in the back room
of his’ house, and a slant-eyed doctor was oe a dried
frog over his bandaged wound.

The baron was leaning over a wash_ basin,
corner, bathing a bruised place over his right eye.

in one

« “How dit you come oudt mit yourseluf, Puffalo Pill?”
asked the baron, drying his face on a handkerchief and
turning upon the scout.
“Fairly baron,’
Baker.”
~-Hoop-en-de-doo !” crowed the baron. |
as I can’t tell pecause I ditn’t have somet’ing to do mit
der. scrimmage, aber I vas knocked oudt mit dot pag
oof dollars. Vata plow! Mein headt rings mit it more
und more. | ditn’t know nodding ondil a minid ago.”
- The scout stepped to the side of Yuen Moy’s cot.
‘How much money did the robbers take from you?”
he inquired. Pe :
“So many bags,’ and the Celestial held up nine yellow
fingers; “allee same fi’ hunnerd dol’ in each bag.”
“That would have been quite a haul if they’d got away
with it.”
“They no ketchee money?’
deep interest.
“You'll get some ne it back.”
This was plainly more than the dealer in dollars had
expected, and he drew a long breath a relief.
_ “My heap peor Chinaman,” said he; “no. likee lose so
muchee dinero,”
“Didn't you hear the robbers coming?”

well, was the reply. “We've gat

SE vas so madt

99

asked ‘Yuen Moy, with

THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

He shook his head.
“They makee come flom othel side wall,” he explained.

“Sabe li'l’ do’
else sabe.”

in wall. My sabe; no thinkee any one

“Who lives in the house next to this—the one a atone
which the thieves came?”

“Him vacant long time.”

“Then it’s clear how you were taken at a disadvantage.
The gang came over the roof, into the next house, and
through the secret door. This ought to be a lesson to
you, Yuen Moy, not to have anything to doéwith secret
doors.”’

_ A Chinaman runs to rabbit-like burrows and concealed
doors as naturally as a horse takes to his oats, and Yuen -
Moy merely shook his head without replying.

‘How did you happen to have the door of your money
vault open?” went on the scout.

“Countee money. Lobbers come in by tlap do’ when
me no see; makee shoot; Yuen Moy makee fall.
Whoosh! Plenty bad.” ,

Hearing footsteps approaching the door, the scout
turned away, to see Nomad coming with a Chinese pris-
Bangham with Baker, and Cayuse and Wild Bill
toting matting bags of coin.

soner,

“We found six,’ reported Wild Bill, dropping his joa
of bags. “Maybe some of the chinks held out a few on
tis,-and maybe some of the Dozen got clear with a few.
How many were taken?” :

“Nine,” said the scout. “The six you bring, and the
one thrown at the baron and left here, make seven. That
leaves only two to be accounted for. Yuen Moy is get-
ting off pretty well, I think.”

“Better than he deserves,’ declared Bangham, step-
ping to the door of the other room and taking a look at
the Chinaman’s vault. ‘‘He might as well keep his silver
dollars in a dry-goods box as to lock ‘em in there. Let's
see, Nomad,’ he added, returning into the rear room,
“if we can’t get that Chinaman to tell us a few things.”

“His names Joe Wing,” grinned Wild Bill, “and
Cayuse and I have met him before. He ought to. be
able to give you some reliable information—if he only

will.”

CHAPTER XVI.
ACS HOO Ra OF Zk Dl.

Yuen Moy had twisted around on his cot and was
looking at Joe Wing. Joe Wing averted his eyes, evi-

dently troubled by the old Chinaman’s stare.
“Ts reckon. they.
Nomad. .
The Chinese doctor and Yuen Moy jabbered with each
Joe Wing listened and shivered. —
spoke up Wild Bill, “don’t seem to

savvies each other,” observed old

other. for a moment.
“What they say,”

  

 

 

 

 
   

 

 

 

 

Fi ec aera ee er a

cee OSU RED SETI

 

 

eapraeentn Se Solis A eeepc acna pda ening rote

THE. BUS PALO

set well with Joe Wing. What do you think, Pard
Cody?” and the Laramie man turned to the scout with
a wide grin. “That’s the man he nodded toward the
yellow prisoner—“that the baron ran through a dozen
times with his sword.”

“I took it pack,” cried the baron. “I tell you in der
grafel pit dot I made some miscalculations aboudt dot.
Vat for you mention sooch a t’ing, hey?”

“Joe Wing knows the baron pretty well, Pard Cody,”
went on the Laramie man; and then did the Dutchman
full credit by describing the rescue in the gravel pit.

“That work of the baron’s, pards,’ declared the scout,
“is what prevented Baker and his men from using their
horses and making good with their raid. Now let’s see
what we can get out of Joe Wing. Who is he, Yuen
Moy?” “

“Him workee fol me, one eee time,” replied the
money dealer. »

“Ah! Then he must have known about that sliding
panel in the wall, eh?”

“All same. Him sabe. Mebbyso him tellee Melican
lobber. Joe Wing plenty bad China boy.”

“How about it, Joe?’ asked the scout.

“My tellee Blaker,”’ admitted Joe Wing, bending his
head to avoid the eyes of Yuen Moy and Baker.

“When did Baker reach Phenix?”

Las DT:
“And went directly to the house in Geronimo Street ?”
“Him makee go there Fiesta Ni’.”

“Where did he get all those horses?”

“Sefior Chick gettee hlorsee. Sefior Chick makee
come with Blaker.”

“Who got the gang together?’

“Sefior Chick.”

“Sefior Chick is some punkins,’ put in Wild Bill.
“Cayuse and I know the gentleman. Too bad he slipped
through the net. The penitentiary will have an apne
ment with him one of these days, all same Baker.”

“Joe,” pursued the scout, keeping to his line of ques-

tions, “why did Baker and his gang dresS up in cCOS- a,

tumes and fool around Washington Street?”

“Wanchee makee laid on Palace gamble hall,’ said Joe
Wing.

“That’s news,” muttered Bangham. “They must have
been planning two raids. To raid the Palace of Chance
would have been as reckless a job as a gang of ruffans
ever tried. Why didn’t the gang carry out the scheme,
oer!

“Blaker “laid Buff’ Bill; ae Melican girl makee too
much chin.”

“Miss Baker scared ion out of that job, then,” said
the scout. “When you gave up: thinking of the Palace

y)

’

‘of Chance asia place for a haul, Baker, you fell back

on Yuen Moy, eh? Better small pickings than none at
all?”

BILL STORIES, | 27

“You're talking with that two-faced yellow whelp of
a chink,’ snarled Baker, “and not with me.”

“You overplayed your hand in Geronimo Street, didn’t
you?” continued the scout, still addressing Baker. “You
went right there with your gang and did your plotting.
You forgot about the old Mexican woman. Then, when
you left and put the Mexican in charge of the house,
you made another misplay. The Mexican drank too
much pulque, and old Manuelita took the key from his
pocket and released the girl.”

«

“That’s the how of it, hey?” cried Baker savagely.

“That greaser dog told me the officers came to the place,
and that he had to make a run to get clear of them.”

“From which,’ laughed the scout, “it seems that I’m
giving you a little gratuitous information.”

“T don’t care a picayune how it seems to you! That
yarn of the greaser’s is what scared me away from the
Palace. We could have turned/that gambling joint in-
side out. .I had men enough.” .

“You haven’t pulled your wires very well, Baker,” said
the scout. “A great many things were in your favor,
but, more than all, the fact that this was Fiesta Night
counted for you. Escaped convict though you were, you

“could roam athe streets of the town, and nobody sus-

pected you.”

“If it hadn’t been for that girl, I’d be in the hills
with all my Dozen men, about now, and more loot than
we'd know what to do with. I reckon, even if | am
down and out, the girl will be taken care of.”

“She will,” returned sharply, “she’ll be taken care of
by the scout and his pards. I reckon we’re equal to the
job.”

“Waugh!” rumbled the old trapper. “Ef ter-night’s
work hesn’t proved et, I don’t reckon anythin’ could.’

“Don’t overlook the important fact, Baker,’ spoke up
Wild Bill, “that your gang is a mighty short dozen
about now. No horses, no loot, no leader. Anyhow, you
can’t herd greasers and chinks together and get ahead
any—even in your line.”

““Allow me to return you this letter,” said Bangham,
handing Baker the note that had been slipped under the
door of the house in Geronimo Street. ‘‘Perhaps,”

Bangham added, with a laugh, “you'd like to add a post-

script to it?”

The paper dropped on the floor, and Baker set his
heel on it with a muttered imprecation.

“This won’t be the end!’ he hissed, with a savage look
at Buffalo Bill. .

“The end—so far as you're concerned,” averred the
sheriff, with a snap of the jaws.

‘What about the prisoner in “Geronimo Street, Bang-
ham?” asked the scout.

“Bly and Sproul landed him in the lockup some time
ago,’ was the answer.
 

ag | THE BUFFALO
“Vm some interested in him,’ remarked old Nomad.
“Ef he gits out o’ yer ole skooktim house, Bangham,
send me a telegraft.”’

The trapper rubbed his head thoughtfilly.

“T dit someding to helup keep der Tozen from ged-
ding off mit der tollar pags,’ said the baron.

For some time he had been worried about what the
scout had said coficetning Bessie Carmelita Baker, and
how she had been the one to cut the largest figtire in
,events just past.

“Honors, baton,” rettirned the scout, ‘are about evenly
divided between you and Miss Baker.”

The baron brightened.

“Tt vas goot to do someting dot’s vort’ vile,” he
went on.

“We have stayed here long enough, pards,”’ said the
scout, “Suppose we set out for the hotel? Afen’t you
all satisfied that we've made a night of it?’

_ “TI hat more atventures in dis vone nighdt, py shinks,”
gloried the baron, “dan in any mont’ vat efer I put in
pefore.” |

“For which, I reckon,” said Bangham, “that Sproul,
and Bly, and I are somewhat responsible. But the first
fellows I thought about, when I found that letter on my
desk, were Buffalo Bill and pards.”

“That started the cross fire,’ answered the scout.

“Leave what’s left of your fiesta clothes here, pards,” he’

added, “and we'll try and get back to our hotel respecta-
bly.”

“T've got a pair of boots somewhere,” remarked Wild
Bill. “Have Bly get them for me, will you, Bangham?”

The sheriff agreed, and the party, with the two. pris-
oners in tow, left the establishment of Yuen Moy, and
made their way through the silent town to thé jail.

Here Baker was left to await the coming of a prison
official from Yuma, and Joe Wing to receive what pun-
ishment he merited, along with the Mexican, and Bui-
falo Bill, Wild Bill, Nomad, the baron, and Little Cayuse
turned their weary féet in the direction of the hotel.

The first-gray of dawn was silvering the east, and the
pards crunchéd throtigh rice at every step.

“There’s only ofie real, gefitiine fiesta,” terarked Wild
Bill, “and that comés once a year, atid happens tight
Mere.)

“T bed you!” came enthusiastically from the baron.
‘Vat a habbiness oof it come vonce a veck!”

THE END;

In the story of next week the author gives you a trip

to Chinatown. Not only that, which in itself is highly
interesting, but he takes you with Cody through some
adventtires iti tie Mongolian quarter which are decidedly
exciting. The heathen Chinee manages to keep the great
scout and his pards guessing for a while. The tale is
called “Buffalo Bill and the Hatchet-Boys; ot, A Pledge

 

Fe eaaT SoH Se RARE eR ae ET ER EUS SE ENTS SRY eRe THT

BILE «STORIES.

Redeemed.” It is far atid away one of the best this seriés
has ever had. You'd better make sure of getting it. The
number of the weekly it will appear in is 460. Reimem-
ber that, as well as the title: then you will avotl ary
chance of missing this star narrative of thrilling adven-
ture.

AG-Beware of Wild West imitations of the Buffalo Bill Stories.
They are about ii¢ditions characters. The Bufialo Bill weekly
is the only weekly coitaining the adventures of Buffalo Bill,

(Col. W. F; Cody), who is known all over the world as the king
Of scouts.

LETTER FROM BURT L. STANDISH.
Dear Frienps: Are you feading the stories of
“Clif Stirling, Captain of the Nine,” which are ap-
pearing in the new Tor-NorcuH MaGaziNneE: If you are

not, you are certainly missing the finest series of base-

ball stories published in years. You should find the
third story in this series, which is a complete yarn
in ten chapters, in the Tor-NotcH for May, now
on the news stands.

If your newsdealer is not cartying this magazine,
ask him to get it, and keep asking him until he does
so. And whenever you see a newsdealer who carries
the five-cent publications, but who does not carry
Tor-Notcu, speak to him abotit it; in this way you
will help us to get this magazine before the boys of
the country.

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A MYSTERY OF THE FOREST.

tions about the Pomoola, that strange animal, .or
being, which used to inhabit the wild region about
Mount Katahdin, will perhaps feel interested in the

R ws who have heard or read of the Indian tradi-

following incident that fell within the writer’s experience

several years ago.

My brother William and I had accompanied an old hiinter
named Hughy Watson upon one of his autumn trips “up
at the lakes,’ as we Maine people say. It was our third
day at the Moosehead, or rather that part of it known as
Lily Bay. We had been beating about the head of the bay,
and dodging in and out among its hundred islands with our
canoe. But our success had thus far been poor enough;

‘game was scarce and very shy. A lot of city sportsmen had

been up the week before, we heard; and that accounted
for it.

“It’s no use, boys,’ said old Hughy, as Will and I came
into camp that night, well tired out with our long tfamp, and
with nothing better than a féw tough ducks fot our supper.
“It’s no use at all. These blasted city swells have frightened
every deer out of ‘the woods and every bird off the water.
We must get back where they haven't been. It isn’t that
they’ve killed off the game; but they've been firing, and
hallooing, and dogging, and wottying everything about here,
from a robin to a moose. You ought to see their camp over

here. I happened to come upon it to-day. Such a place) for

a camp!’ “Twas on a hill right where everything could see
it for miles around; and see their fite nights. Tell you it’s
a sight to behold there! Ground’s covered with crackers
and hard-bread for tods! Oyster kegs tolling round! Two
or three burst guns left under foot! Whisky bottles cruriched
up! Never saw stich a sight in my life. You can gitess

‘jist what a hoodt-todt was going on there all ‘the time.

Sportsmen! Paddy-whackers would come neafer to it. But
well go farther back.’

So the next morning we went back; arid after a long day’s
tramp over the rolling forest lands to the northward, we
came out on a wild-looking sheet of watet, which we after-
ward learned was called Ragged Lake. Its notched, sctaggy,

and ctaggy shores might well have suggested the name.

Neaf us a noisy brook camé rattling down into it, and not
more than a quarter of a mile farther on the outlet comes
out in a patallel direction, with equal noise and*foam. Some
idea may be obtained from this circumstance of the rough

®

BILL SFORIES:

stirface of the country about us. It was a wild, unfrequerited
region, and as this was what we were looking for, we con-
cluded to tty our luck here for a while.

“It ought to be a clever place for mink,” said Hughy; “and

we may find a family of beayer up this brook. J never was

on these waters before.”

We made up an open camp, Indian fashion, under some
large spruces, ahd just at dusk we had the good fortune to
see and shoot a “cafibou,’ a small and very swift soft of
deer. It was cloudy, and came on vety datk. I never, before
ot since, heard such a sérenade ftom owls as our fire drew
around us. Screeches and the most dismal hoots blended in
horrible concert. Round and found us they glided in noise-
less circles, and their name was legion., It was ttterly im-
possible to sleep, atid the frequent discharge of our gutis
failed to disperse them. But in the morning the merry totes
of the kingfisher told us there wete plenty of trout in the
stream we were on, and where there are trout there are al-
ways mink. So we fell to lining the banks with “‘figure-four”
traps, which occupied us during the whole of the following

day. There were no indications. that the stream had evér-
been trapped before, and we anticipated a “full pack of fur.

“This is what I call freedom,’ said Hughy, as we sat
round ott fire that night. “No sportsmen fooling found
heré. All just as old Mothet Nattiré made it. Atid she
made it pretty rough and wild, too,” contintied the old
fellow, gazing off at the black sprtice-clad peaks of Katah-
din, fat to the eastward, where the “hunter’s moon” was
looming up overt the desolate summit. “Like enough we are
the first white folks ever in here. The lumberiméen wouldt't

come into stich a region as this. We crossed theif old trail —

teri miles below.”

Yes, likely eriough we were. At least we had no reason
to complain of the trapping grourid we had thtis stumbled
tipoh. For we began to réap a fine harvest of fur ere the
first three days had passed. And for boys of sixteeti, like
Will and I, no better etitertaintnent could have been got tip.

But as days passed we began to notice that Hushy seemed

uneasy and watchful.

“What can ail the old man?’ asked Will; as we were
making the round of the traps one day. “He doesn’t act
at all as he did the first few days we were in here. Haven't
you noticed it?’ And we agreed to rally the old chap a
little when we got back. Well, after supper that night, see-
ing Hughy looking sulky and absent, I asked all at once:

“What is it, Hughy; aren't things going on right here?”

The old man turned atid looked at us a moment, as if not
cettain what he should answer. Then he said:

“T never like to be laughed at, especially by boys. 1
thought at first we’d struck a fine streath, and pethaps it’s all
fancy, for I haven't seen or heard a single thing wrong yet.
But I’ve been feeling for several days just as if theré was
something, either man or beast, hafging rourid us here. It
may be a catamount, or it may be some tiean thief of a
river driver, sheaking about for a chahce to Steal our fur;
or some Indian who Hunts here, and would bé glad to be

rid of us. Can't tell. And perhaps it’s all my notion; bit

I ean’t get tid of it. I remembet once, wheh I was up
at the Telos Lake, I felt just so sevefal days, and finally otie
night I hid in a clump of hemlocks, a little ways from my
camp, and didn’t go to it at all. Along in the night I heard
a noise about it, and saw what I took fof men there. I
didn’t speak or fire on them. Things were upset round the
next moftiing, but ’'d moved my fur the day before. And
another tite I was up beyond Katahdin; and several days
before I had seen any signs I began to feel that something
was watching me, and a night or two after | waked up and
saw a catamount glaring at me from a treetop. I suppose
he'd been prowling tound, but had kept out of sight. And
I think we shall find that there’s something , unusual lurking
round us now.”

Old Hughy’s presentiments were well calculated to keep us

 
  

  
 

 

co THE BUFFALO

wakeful and vigilant. But several days passed without the
least sign of any one being near us, and we were beginning
to forget it, when one evening I saw what certainly justified
Hughy’s suspicions. I had left the fire to bring some water
from the brook, which was within a few rods of us. :I had
‘stooped to dip it up, when, as I rose, I caught a glimpse
of what I took to be a man, standing at a little distance. In
an instant it vanished behind a shrubby fir. “1 felt quite
positive, yet it was so dusk, and whatever I had seen was
out of sight so quick, that | knew I was very liable to have
been mistaken. And checking my first impulse to run to the
camp and give an alarm, I decided to say nothing at pres-
ent, but watch. Hughy and Will were soon asleep, and | lay
down, but kept awake. Hour after hour went by. At length
the moon rose. It was one of those still late autumn nights,
when frogs are silent and birds and insects are quiet; when
only the larger beasts of prey are abroad. There were no
owls that night. The leaves had fallen and covered the
ground with a dry and rustling carpet. After a while I
began to distinguish footsteps among them, at a distance.
- They were faint and stealthy, and I was somewhat in doubt
whether it were not my fancy, till the sharp snap of a twig
convinced me. It might easily have been a “lucivee,” or a
“fisher,” or a bear; but I at once connected it with what I
had seen in the evening. I listened, breathlessly. The steps
were coming nearer. But it was very dark under the thick
spruce boughs. Suddenly the steps ceased, and for a few
moments all was still; then I saw a dark shadow pass a nar-
row vista, where the moonlight fell through the black tree-
tops. It had the shape of a man. The steps went on as if
the creature, or whatever it was, were passing around us,
keeping at about the same distance. Gradually it came
around to the point where I had first heard it. There was
another pause, and again I saw it cross the moonlit line, to
continue its walk around our camp. I wasn’t much alarmed,
but. its movements gave me a strange sort of feeling. I re-
member thinking it was no use to wake Will or Hughy, who
was snoring away at a great rate. So cocking my gun, I
crept noiselessly down the path we had beaten to the brook,
to get nearer the place where I had seen the shadow in the
moonlight. Cgeeping up within two or three rods, I crouched
at the foot of a fallen tree and waited. The footsteps were
again approaching in their circuit. There was the same
pause as before, and again the form stepped into the moon-
light a-moment and was again in the shadow. But the
moon was pouring down brightly, and I distinctly saw its
shape, the figure of a man, looking brown and naked, save
_ where a hairy outline showed against the light. A feeling of
sickness or of horror came over me. The idea of using
my gun did not even present itself. I crept back as silently
as I came down. I heard the steps come round again; then
they grew fainter and fainter as the walker moved off into
the forest.

It was getting toward morning. I sat down to think the
matter over. Presently Hughy woke,

“You up?” said he; whereupon I told him what I had
seen. He listened without a word, till I was describing how
it looked as I last saw it, when he exclaimed: ‘

“It’s an Indian devil! It’s old Pomoola! That’s just as
Tve heard the Old Town Indians describe it a hundred
times, but I always thought it was all a lie. They always
left a place as soon as they’d seen one of those things, and
I reckon we'd better.”

But we didn’t leave; and our good luck with our traps
continued despite Hughy’s hints at Indian superstitions. We
were pretty cautious, however, and kept together a good
deal. It was not that we were particularly afraid of it, as
a beast, but its singular movements had given us a sort of
dread of it.

Nothing further was seen for some time.
to fish in the lake for trout. It was alive with them, too;
splendid fellows. We frequently caught them as heavy as
ten pounds, and one day Will caught what Hughy called a

We had begun

ing.

BILL STORIES.

“togue trout,’ which must have weighed twenty or twenty-
five pounds. He fairly drew our canoe after him when he
was hooked, and it took all our skill to land him.

I remember we were up near the head of the lake that
afternoon. Our camp was at the foot, or lower end. It was
getting dusk as we paddled back along. There were several
islands in the lake, nearly all of them craggy and high. Just
as we were passing the lower one we heard a curious noise,
a sort of “Waugh! Waugh!” and, looking round to the
island, we saw a strange manlike creature, standing upright
on a rock, overlooking the water. We were not more than

eight rods off, and it was not so dark but that we could
see it plainly ‘enough. As we stopped paddling it uttered
the same sound again—a noise between a grunt and a bark.

I knew at once it was the same creature I had seen before,
and told them so. It must have swum fully half a mile to
get upon the island. If we hadn’t been fools we should
have gone up and found out then and there what it was,
and.so solved the mystery. For the island was small, and we
should have had it completely penned up and at our mercy.
But we ‘were boys~then, with our heads full of Hughy’s
big stories; and as for Watson himself, all the fur in Maine
wouldn't have hired him to goa stroke nearer. Will hal-
looed at it, whereupon it raised its forepaws, or arms,
and swung them about like a drunken man, making the same
noise as before. It was growing dark, and we came off
and left it. The next day we went down round the island,
but it wasn’t there. It had gone away-during the night.

It was now November; and one morning we woke up to
find the ground white and a smart snow coming. Toward
night it cleared up cold and wintry. Our open camp wasn’t
very comfortable that night. We waked up shivering, and
Hughy was wincing under twinges of his old foe, the “rheu-
matiz.”

“We must get out of this, boys,

33

” said he. “Winter’s com-+

During the day we took up cur traps and prepared for our
long tramp southward. We packed our fur in bundles;
for we had to back it out for the first forty miles. It was
to be our last night there, and we sat about our fire, talking
over home matters, and thinking of what might have hap-
pened since we left. All at once Hughy remembered our
canoe.

“We may come here again,” said he; “and it’s some work
to make one. You go down, Jed, and pull it out of the
lake, and hide it in that little clump of cedars close to the
water. It'll keep sound there two or three years.”

So I ran down to the lake. It wasn’t more than a hundred
rods. Drawing the canoe out of the water, I stowed it
away, bottom up, among the cedars at the foot of a high
crag which overhung the lake.

I was just-coming away when J heard behind me the
same queer sound we had heard at the island, and, looking
up, saw the beast-man again standing at the top of the crag.
He wasn’t more than a hundred feet off, so I had a pretty
good view of him as he stood out against the clear, sunset
sky. It was the same form and shape as before, fully as tall
as a man, and I could now see the face. Perhaps it was

partly fear, but I did think it had a devilish look.

There was a tuft of thick hair on the head, which lent
a frightful expression to the face. If this was what the
Indians used to see, | don’t wonder they thought it was the
devil. I had my gun, and slowly raised it, as if to take
aim. The creature raised its arm in the same way. But
I’d no thoughts of firing. I didn’t dare to. And when I
lowered my gun, the creature dropped its arm with another
“Waugh, waugh!”

I know I was frightened, yet I saw it plainly enough,
and could have sworn to its identity anywhere. I don’t
know how long we stood staring at each other, but I saw
it was growing darker, and, stepping backward till I. was
out of sight? behind a cedar, I went into camp about as fast
as my legs would carry me.

aa IT SR IA Oe aa ee ara AR ai tis aa ot

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

subtle genius upon the temples of the Acropolis,

 

THE BUFFALO

Will was for going down all together and shooting at it.
But Hughy wouldn’t hear of it. He was pretty strongly
tinged with the old Indian whims concerning Pomoola, the
demon of the mountain near us. “We'd no business with
it,’ he said. ‘And he’d have nothing: to do with it whatever,

_ unless he was obliged to.”

The next day we started for the settlements. That was
the last we saw of it. Of course Will and I told our story
after getting home, and I presume it never increased: our
reputation for veracity among our neighbors. Hughy
showed an old hunter’s wisdom by keeping still about it.
When persons who had heard us asked him, he merely said
that he did see something queer, and that was all they could
get out of him. Will and 1 pitched into him once for not
substantiating our account better.

“Noo use, no jise at all’ said: the old man;
going to get laughed at for nothing.”

I’ve thought about it a great deal since, but I never could
satisfy myself what it was we saw. I heard of wild men,
of children carried off and reared by wild beasts, and the
Indians were always telling of Pomoola, but I never could
settle it in my mind. JI know there are a great many things
in the Northern wilderness which the “scientific men” would
laugh at a person for seeing or trying to describe.

But here’s my story. Take it for what it is worth.”

Sand: Teain’t

THE BRIDGES OF OLD.

Prominent among the unobtrusive but real blessings of
civilization are bridges, while many of them deserve to
rank among the greatest triumphs of man’s constructive
ingenuity. In early times, very, primitive substitutes for
these conveniences seem to have prevailed. For a small
stream, stepping-stones or the trunk of a tree would be
a natural suggestion; for a larger one, a search for a
ford was indispensable. .Of the importance of fords we
have many indications in the number of local names de-
rived from the circumstance, as Hereford, Oxford, Guild-
ford, etc.

As the use of boats was discovered, a fe ane take
the place of the dangerous and disagreeable wading through
the water. When we examine the history of the great
building nations of antiquity, we are surprised to find the
construction of stone bridges to be so late an event. The
Egyptians. were essentially devoted to architecture, but it
did not take that form.

Small wooden bridges over their innumerable canals must
have. been common, but they did not apparently feel the
necessity of crossing their mighty river otherwise than in
boats. As the Euphrates flowed through the middle of

‘Babylon, we are not astonished to hear of a connecting

link between the two halves. Herodotus ascribes it. to
Nitocris. It was 1,000 yards long, and probably consisted
of stone piers, overlaid with planking which was removed
at night,

Whatever bridges existed in Greece were probably of this
type, but none are known earlier than the date of the
Roman occupation. The Athenians, while lavishing their
forgot
to bridge the Cephisus, which perhaps was dry every
summmer. It is to the Romans we owe the first applica-
tion of the round arch to the purpose of bridge building,
for which it is so well fitted. Even at Rome, however,
the oldest bridge was a wooden one, the famous Pons Sub-
licius, made immortal by the feats of Horatius Cocles, fa-
miliar to British boys in the manly strains of Macaulay.
From some religious considerations, this ancient bridge was
constantly rebuilt.in wood, no metal fastenings being al-
lowed, and hence the chief priests were called Pontifices,
or bridge-makers—a name afterward ludicrously assumed
by the popes.

But it is in the provinces that the Romans constructed

BILL STORIES. 3t.

bridges worthy of their material greatness. In these erec-
tions, as in all their works of public utility, we admire an
air of latent stretigth, of majestic solidity, which is at the
same time combined with perfect adaptation to their pur-
pose. They seem to have been intended to last forever.
One of their finest was built by the order of Trajan, 105
A. D., in Spain, over the Tagus.

The Moors have given the name Alcantara—the Bridge—
to the adjoining town. The river is liable at this place
to immense variations of level, The bridge is consequently
very high, the roadway, which is perfectly level, being 140
feet above the bed of the stream. It is indeed more what
is now called a viaduct which happens to cross a river
than a bridge. The same emperor employed a Greek archi-
tect, Apollodorus, to build a bridge over the Danube, below |
the Irom: Gate. The foundations of the piers of this
structure have been seen in the bed of the stream, when
the water has been unusually low, at a village called
Severin, where the width of the river is 1,300 yards. The
superstructure for this great length was probably of wood.

Fine Roman bridges, still in good preservation, are to be
seen at Rimini, Narni, Merida, and other places. After the
irruption of the Barbarians into the Roman Empire, there
was a long intermission in the building of bridges, except on
the part of the Moors in Spain, who built a bridge over’
the Guadalquivir, at Cordova, under Hashem, the son of
Abderrahman.

In the south of France, a religious fraternity was estab-
lished, the object of which was to build bridges, maintain
ferries, and establish roadside inns near the most fre-
quented fords. They received the official sanction of Pope
Clement II1., and built bridges at Avignon—1176-1188—and
at Lyons. From this date onward, many remarkable bridges
were built in mountainous countries under the direction: of
the monks. Their extraordinary boldness of design has
often given them the popular title of Devil’s Bridge, as, for
instance, near Aberystwith, where the single arch so called
is said to have been thrown over the raging stream, by the
monks of Strata Florida Abbey, in the reign of ae
Rufus.

A very curious bridge is found near Croyland, consumes
of three pointed arches over three distinct watercourse,
which meet from different directions. In modern times we
are so familiar with the feats of civil engineers that it would
be tedious to enumerate the marvelous structures which
bear our railroads high over deep ravines or stormy estu-
aries. The story, alas! is not one of unbrgken triumph:
the wild forces of nature have on one sad ahd memorable
occasion swept away the long bridge that cr@ssed the tidal
course of the Tay—-December 28, 1879.

In mountainous countries necessity has long ago taught
the inhabitants to find some way of bridging Ser deep
ravines and chasms. In the Himalayas they employ the
Calamus rotang, and other species of cane palm or rattan,
which have the habit of growing to a prodigious length.
Sir Joseph. Hooker thus describes one he himself passed
over: “Two parallel canes, on the same horizontal plane,
were stretched across the stream; from these others hung
in loops, and along the loops were laid one or two bamboo
stems for fiooring; crosspieces below this flooring hung
from the two upper canes, which they thus served to keep
apart. The traveler grasps one of the canes in either hand
and walks along the loose bamboos laid on the swinging
loops.”

Somewhat similar were the suspension bridges used in
the Andes along the great roads constructed by the Peruvian
Incas. - These were ‘made of thick ropes manufactured otf
the fibres of the Agave Americana, several cables being
bound together with pliant osier twigs, and then covered
over with earth and the branches of trees. Humboldt de-
scribes a bridge of upward of 130 feet span, over the
Chimbo, in Quito, of which the main ropes, four itiches in
diameter, were made of agave fibre, ©

 
 

 

 

  

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STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York

 

 

IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS

of out Weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be
obtained from this office direct.

Fill out the following Order Blank and send it to

us with the price of the Weeklies you want and we will send them to you by return mail. POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY.

 

STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City.

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BRAVE AND BOLD WEEKLY,“ .............2... ve geesieeswe ese

 

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BUFFALO BILL STORIES

 

ISSUED EVERY TUESDAY

BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVERS

 

 

There is no need of our telling American readers how interesting the stories of the adventures

of Buffalo Bill, as scout and plainsman, really are.

These stories have been read exclusively in this

weekly for many years, and are voted to be masterpieces dealing with Western adventure.
Buffalo Bill is more popular to-day than he ever was, and, consequently, everybody ought to

know all there is to know about him.

In no manner can you become so thoroughly acquainted with

the actual habits and life of this great man, as by reading the BUFFALO BILL STO RIES.

You can have your news-dealer
order them or they will be sent direct by the publishers to any address upon receipt of the price in
money or postage-stamps.

We give herewith a list of all of the back numbers in print.

245—Buffalo
247—Buffalo
250—Buffalo
252—Buffalo
253—Buffalo
254—-Buffalo
256—Buffalo
258—Buffalo
264—Buffalo
267—Buffalo
269—Buffalo

Bill's: Lost! Quarry:: oi.)s 2c 5 os
Bill’s Stockade Siege........
Bill on a Long Hunt...

Pee
Bill and the Redskin Wizard..
Bill’s Bold Challenge........ 5

Bill’s Shawnee Stampede.....
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

EON ss

272—Buffalo
273—Buffalo
274—Buffalo
275—Buffalo
276—Buftfalo
278—Buffalo
280—Buffalo
283—Buffalo
285—Buffalo
287—Buffalo
288—Buffalo
290—Buffalo
292—Buffalo
293—Buffalo
298—Buftfalo
299—Buffalo
303—Buffalo
305—Buffalo
306—Buffalo
307—Buffalo
308—Buffalo
309—Buffalo
310—Buffalo
311—Buffalo
312—Buffalo
314—-Buffalo
315—Buffalo
316—Buffalo
319—Buffalo
321—Buffalo
324—Buffalo
325—Buffalo
326—Buffalo
327—Buffalo
328—Buffalo
329—Buffalo
330—Buffalo
331—Buffalo
332—Buffalo
333—Buffalo
334—Buftfalo
335—Buffalo
336—Buffalo
337—Buffalo
338—Buffalo
339—Buffalo
340—Buffalo
341—Buffalo
342—Buffalo
343—Buffalo
344—Buffalo
345—Buffalo

Bill’s Dusky Trailers........
Bill’s Diamond Mine.........
Bill and the Pawnee Serpent..
Bills] Scarlet Mand... 3s...
Bill Running the Gantlet....
Bill’s Daring Plunge........
Bills GhostRaidy v2.05 oe
Bille Up a Stump ie ee
Bill’s Master-stroke........
Bill and the Brazos Terror...
Bill’s Dance of Death.......
Bill and the Brand of Cain..
Bill’s Medicine-lodge........
Bi WNeP en ei se esas
Bill’s Black Hagles..........
Bill’s Desperate Dozen......
Bill and the White Specter..
Bill and the Barge Bandits. .
Bill, the Desert Hotspur....
Bill’s Wild Range Riders....
Bill’s Whirlwind Chase......
Bill’s Red Retribution.......
Bill Haunted UAE AS see sci a ees
Bil¥s: Might for Lifes. o.s 6:
Bills? Death Jumpin ee.
Bill in the Jaws of Death....
Bills Aztec Runnerss:. 3.0%. 6:
Bill’s Dance with Death.....
Bill’s Mazeppa Ride.........
Bill’s Gy psys Band sic. esa.
Bill’s= Gold Huntersic:s <i. 2
Bilt: ins Old Mexico. 6) assscs
Bill’s Message from the Dead
Bill and the Wolf-master....
Bill’s Flying Wonder.......
Bills; Hidden’ Gold.-. et... 2.
Bili¢se Outlaw eiral vs 33.505. 3.
Bill and the Indian Queen...
Bill and the Mad Marauder..
Bills Tce. Barricade: 2.
Bill and the Robber Elk....
Bills Ghost Dance..........
Bill’s Peace-pipe parame
Bill’s Red Nemesis..........
Bill’s Enchanted Mesa......
Bill in the Desert of Death..
Bills: Pay; Streakass 2.5.
Bill on Detached Duty......
Bill’’s Army Mystery........
Bill’s Surprise Party........
Bill's: Greatiu Rides cre
Bills water, Trails... 3.

5

 

346—Buffalo
348—Buffalo
349—Buffalo
350—Buffalo
351—Buffalo
352—Buffalo
353—Buffalo
354—Buffalo
355—Buffalo
356—Buffalo
357—Buffalo
358—Buffalo
359—Buffalo
3860—Buffalo
362—Buffalo
863—Buffalo
364—Buffalo
3866—Buffalo
367—Buffalo
368—Buffalo
3869—Buffalo
3870—Buffalo
371—Buffalo
372—Buffalo
373—Buftfalo
374—Buffalo
375—Buffalo
376—Buffalo
377—Buffalo
378—Buffalo
379—Buffalo
380—Buffalo
381—Buffalo
382—Buffalo
383—Buffalo
384—Buffalo
385—Buffalo
886—Buffalo
387—Buffalo
3888—Buffalo
389—Buffalo
390—Buffalo
391—Buffalo
392—Buffalo
393—Buffalo
394—Buffalo
395—Buffalo
3896—Buffalo
397—Buffalo
398—Buffalo
399—Buffalo
400—Buffalo
401—Buffalo
402—Buffalo
403—Buffalo
404—Buffalo
405—Buffalo
406—Buffalo
407—Buffalo
408—Buffalo
409—Buffalo
410—Buffalo
411—Buffalo

Bill’s Ordeal of Fire........
Bill’s Casket of Pearls......
Bills Sky: “Pilotccct. esc,
Bills: Totem es sae oe
Bill’s Flat-boat Drift........
Billvons Decker 8. eh oie
Bill and the Bronco Buster...
Bill’s Great Round-up.......
Bill's: “Bledsoe vies eee
Bill’s Cowboy Pard..........
Bill and the Emigrants......
Bill Among the Pueblos.....
Bill’s Four-footed Pards......
Billis | Prot@gés re eek
Bill's PICK-—UD ci% Nace ee
Billig Quester toe
Bill’s Waif of the Plains....
Bill Among the Mormons...
Billks “Assistance 7k wks
Bill’s Rattlesnake Trail....
Bill and the Slave-Dealers..
Bills. Strong. Arms. 02.5 6.0.
Bills Girl Pardes. ss ee
Bill’s Iron Bracelets.........
Bills? Ranch, Riders os 2.6 35 i
Bills Jade nAmulets: .. 6 cs 6:
Bills “Magie: Lariat... 226.
Bills: 4 Paper-Tallke): eo sc3.3.
Bill’s Bridge of Fire........
Bill’s Bowie

Bill’s Pay-streako nc. c0s ss -
Bills Man Gccecee ciel sccei oteceeeen
Bill’s
Bill’s Ruse
Bill Overboard

Bis Rhine Pes

Bills Bier Contracts sc a. 0s
Bill and Calamity Jane......
Bilis ead Pardee sec sa otek ts
Bill’s Desperate Plight.......
Bills Mearless= Stand. 75. . .%
Bill and the Yelping Crew...
Bills: Guiding Hand<)%,..4.
Brilless Queer Quest sn fo. cee he
Bill’s Prize “‘Getaway”......
Bill’s Hurricane Hustle......
Bills Stari, Playas. vce eee.
BilliswBluihee os cc oe
Bills Trackers 2055. cis seeks
Bill seputehe ward 26 er:
Billvand: the BravOyss sens 6 os
Bill and the Quaker.........
Bill’s Package of Death....
Bill’s Treasure Cache.......
Bills Private “War. :0.2:.- .
Bill and the Trouble Hunter..
Bill and the Rope Wizard...
Bills obiestavsee eco ie oe cee
Bill Among the Cheyennes...
Bill BeSIGZOOe ise tee cours
Bill and the Red Hand.......
Bill’s Tree-trunk Drift......
Bill and the Specter.........

Clean-up..io 3 cna a

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412—-Buffalo
413—Buffalo
414—Buftfalo
415—Buffalo
416—Buffalo
417—Buffalo
418—Buffalo
419—Buffalo
420—Buffalo
421—Buffalo
422—Buffalo
423—Buffalo
424—Buftalo
425—Buffalo
426—Buffalo
427—Buffalo
428—Buffalo
429—Buffalo
430—Buffalo
431—-Buffalo
432—Buffalo
433—Buffalo
434—Buffalo
435—Buffalo
436—Buffalo
437—Buffalo
438—Buffalo
439—Buffalo
440—Buffalo
441—-Buffalo
442—Buffalo
443—Buffalo
444—Buftfalo
445—Buffalo
446—Buffalo
447—Buffalo
448—Buffalo
449—Buffalo
450—Buffalo
451—Buffalo

mosa.

452—Buffalo
453—Buffalo
454—-Buffalo

5 | 455—Buffalo

456—Buffalo
457—Buffalo
458—Buffalo
459—Buffalo
460—Buffalo
461—Buffalo
462—Buffalo
463—Buffalo
464—Buffalo
465—Buffalo
466—Buffalo
467—Buffalo
468—Buffalo
469—Buffalo
470—Buffalo
471—Buffalo
472—Buffalo
473—Buffalo

Bill and the Red Feathers...
Bills King. Stroke 23... sa. s
Bill, the Desert Cyclone.....
Bill’s Cumbres Scouts.......
Bill and the Man-wolf......
Bill and His Winged Pard...
Billecat Babylon Baw <3...
Bill's: Won's: Army ie ace
Bill and Old Weasel Top....
Bill’s Steel Arm Pard......
Bill’s Aztec Guide.............
Bill and Little Firefly......
Bill in the Aztec City......
Bill’’s Balloon Escape......
Bill and the Guerrillas......
Bill’s Border War eave
Bill’s Mexican Mix-up

Bill and the Gamecock Bas
Bill and the Cheyenne Raiders
Bills Whirlwind Finish....
Bill’s Santa Fe Secret......
Bill and the Taos Terror..
Bill’s Bracelet of Gold....
Bill and the Border Baron..
Bill at Salt River Ranch...
Bill’s Panhandle Man-hunt.
Bill at Blossom Range.....
Bill ‘and Juniper Joe... 2.3 2s:
Bills Binal: “Scoop: sa4--4.. . . -
Billat- Clearwaters i .0.005.%
Bills Winning: Mamdi ys. 2.
Bills; Cinch: Claim. 552025...
Bills’ Comradesijusce oes 5 os ae
Bill in the Bad Lands......
Bill and the Boy Bugler....
Bill and the Heathen Chinee.
Bill and the Chink War...... 5
Bills: Chinese:Chase. (0.20.
Bill’s Secret Message.......
Bill and the Horde of Her-

Bill’s Lonesome Trail......
Billisys Quwannye cs me oc eae ors toe
Bilt ine. Deadwood... 2.0.3:
BilleseiimetcAlde cts csc oe
Bill and Old Moonlight......
Bill Repaid

Biles: DHLOWDACK 1.5.28 2) ences
Bill's s:Sight.Unseen ci, vc.
‘Bills iNew. Bards... 3. Nees
Bilks.. Winged: Victory.?5...
Bill’s Pieces-of-Hight.......
Bill and the Hight Vaqueros.
Bill’s Unlucky. Siesta........
Bills Apache Clue.......'..
Bill and the Apache Totem..
Bill’s Golden Wonder........
Bill’s Fiesta Night........
Bill and the Hatchet Boys
Bill and the Mining Shark...
Bill and the Cattle Barons...
Bill’s Longe Oddsiais si oi
Bill, the Peacemaker........ 5

If you want any back numbers of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be obtained direct

from this office.

Postage-stamps taken the same as money.

STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, 79-89 SEVENTH AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY