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A WEEKLY PUBLICATION

». Lssued Weekly.

 

By subscription $2.50 per tod Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. VY. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Ave., N.Y.
Copyright, 1910, dy STREET & SMITH. ;

 

No. 493.

_ NEW YORK, October 22, rgto.

Price Five Cents.

BUFFALO BILL AT CANON DIABLO:

hoe

PAWNEE BILL’S RAILROAD MUTINY.

 

By the “author of “BUFF ALO BILL.”

 

CHAPTER I.
CRACK-LOO.

the baron patted the silver dollar affectionately, made

a few passes over it, and flipped it into the air. ,
_“Now den,” said he, ‘ ‘show we vat you vas goot for.”
‘The dollar dropped with a jingle, rolled two or three

feet in a slowly contracting circle, and finally laid itself

down on the the boards.
~. One roar of delight went up, to an accompaniment et
half a dozen groans.

The roar of delight was not from the baron. He con-
tributed a groan to the disappointed chorus. It was not
his dollar that came nearest to the middle of the crack i in
the board floor.

A greasy person in a soiled Aainel shirt and frayed
corduroy trousers went down on his knees and gathered
up seven shiny dollars. The greasy person’s dollar had
fallen squarely over one of the cracks. ;

“Vat a luck I got dis afternoon,” muttered the baron,
, gloomily.

He had lately come into the possession of $500. In

various ways that were hardly commendable he was try-

ing to make his capital grow. It was growing, all right,

but growing steadily smaller, and not larger.
“What you howlin’ about?’ demanded the greasy per-
son, blinking his bleared eyes at the baron. “You're a

pard o’ the king o’ scouts, an’ have got all kinds o’
money.”

“It's der hardt und easy kind,” explained the baron.
“Hardt to come und easy to go. Pesides, I vas some
sugers at dis crack-loo. Puffalo Pill don’d like sooch
gampling pitzness. He vould shpeak oudt his mindt ad
me oof he knew. Keep it keviet.”

The baron, as he spoke, cast an uneasy look toward
the door. — a

It was afternoon in the Poker Palace, and daylight

hours were not the ones that brought the establishment

much business. It was with lamp-lighting time that the
rush usually began.

The barkeeper had left his counter, and was sitting in
a chair tilted against one of the walls. His head was
bowed on his breast, and he was snoring loudly.

The barkeeper, the baron, and the other six engaged
in crack-loo were the only ones in the place.

Buffalo Bill was not a patron of the Poker Palace, and
it seemed like a safe retreat for the baron while indulging
in forbidden pastimes.

“Buffalo Bill got a string on you?” sneered the greasy
person, flipping a. dollar over his head and watching its
shining descent to the floor.

“You bed my life he has more as a shtring on me,
answered the baron. “Ve vas bards togedder, und ve

 

 
 

 

 

2 THE BUFFALO

shtick site py each so glose as I can’t dell. Don’t roll
your ubber lip like dot und make some faces,” the baron
finished truculently. “I von't shtandt for nodding like
dot.” ,

“Tf ye’re of age,” went on the greasy person, “what
right has any one got ter boss ye? I'd like ter see any,
one try ter tell me I couldn’t play crack- loo, ’r chuck-a-
luck, ’r keno, ’r anythin’. Go on an’ flip.”

They had all flipped but the baron. He now’ fished
for another dollar, turned around with it three times,
as a charm against bad luck, and tossed.

~The coin rattled down on the floor, the baron hopping
around and fanning at it with his hat.

“On der grack mit you!” he breathed. “Schust a leedle
to der left—now der right—now lay down, blease,
blease !’’

The dollar refused to “lie down.” Instead, it circled
a knot hole in the floor, ran into it, and—disappeared.
A laugh went up. While the\baron was deploring the
sad fate of his dollar, the swing doors’ weré pushed
inward, and old Nomad entered the place.

At once the baron grew quiet, and leaned agaitist the
bar. He ‘tried to make it appear as though he had been
' merely a spectator of the game, and not an active pat-
ticipant.

.Nomad looked at the dollars ‘on she: floor, and marked
how every one of the crack-loo players was grinning at
the baron. In his turn, the baron was winking at the
players with his off eye, ‘trying to make them understand
that they weré to say nothing about what he hed ‘been
doing.

-“Buttin’ inter another skin game, baron?” tnguived: the
old trapper.

“Nod ad all, Nomat; nod ad all,’ answered the baron,
ah a wave of the hand. “Dose six vas blaying mit der
tollars. Dere vas six blayers, und six tollars—count dem,
It vas a leedle oxciting schust to vatch.’’

Baht” grunted the greasy person, “he was playin’
with the rest o’ us, an’ his dollar went through the knot
hole.”

. “Iowill poke holes in, your face for dotl”: cried the
baron, two-stepping away from the bar, and waving his
fists.

‘‘Nary ye won't baron,” laughed old Nomad. “ ‘Come
on out front with me. Buffler seen ye sneak in hyar, an’
he sent me over ter see what kind of er game ye was up
aginst. Waugh! Ef ye’re bound to gamble, baron, why
don’t ye play a reel game? This hyar is kid biznes.”

Hope brightened in the baron’s face.

— “Dere iss der roulette veel,” said he, suddenly for-
getting his griévance against the greasy person, “Oof
you tink Puffalo Pill vouldn’t mind .

“Waugh! Come erway, pard. Ye’re an easy mark
at any kind of er game.’

Taking the baron’s arm, he conducted him firmly but
gently toward the swing doors. The greasy, individual
sneered loudly. -

The baron halted.

“Nomat,’ he begged, “I go mit you mit cheerfulness
oof you fairst let me knock dot feller’s headt off! He
vins so mooch, und he acts in sooch a vay, dot he has got
on my nerfs.”

_ “He ain’t wuth botherin’ with,” grunted the trapper,
_ pushing the baron through the swing doors and follow-
ing after him. “How much did ye lose in thar?” he
demanded, as he and the baron started down the street.

 

vot I got.

; he Poker

BILL STORIES:

~ “Elefun tollars,’’ answered the baron.

“How much did ye lose last night? Wasn't ye layin

faro in thet thar place last night?”

“Meppy I vas,” answered the baron indefinitely.
- “How much did ye lose?”

“Pordy-fife tollar. .

“How much o’ thet five hundred ye got left?’

-“Four hundert ninedy-t’ree tollars. Pympy, ven der
luck shanges, I vill make dot fife hundert vat I hat look
like a t’ousand, yah; so helup me!”

“Ve'll make et look like er hole in er doughnut ef ye
keep on,’ ' growled the trapper. “Hev ye got thet four
hunderd an’ ninety-three dollars in yer clothes?”

Ty aay, ol keep him aroundt mit me all der time, looking
for shanceés.”

. “Cough et up—hyar, right inter my hand.”

“Vas iss dot?” gasped the startled baron.

“Buffler’s goin’ ter put ther money inter ther bank fer
ye; Fork. over.’

“Vy, bard,” demurred the baron, “dot iss all der money
You tink I don’t know how to take care oof
my own money, hey ?’’

it don’t think nothin’ erbout et—I know. Aire ye
goin’ ter pass over ther dinero, or hev I got ter tell Buffler
ye wouldn’t?”

“Did Puffalo Pill say dot you vas to ged it?”

“Thet’s what he said.”

“Den,” and the baron heaved a long sigh, “q gif oop.
Put him in der pank so I can sheck him oudt oof I get
shtrapped.”

“Not so ye kin notice.”

The trapper took the roll of bills and the handful of sil-
ver, and carefully deposited both in his pocket. The baron
stopped and leaned gloomily against a hitching poe be-
side the walk.

“Goin’ on with me ter the hotel?” demanded the trap-
per.

“T guess dot I vill vait a leedle, Nomat,”’
baron. “Pooty soon I come along.
going on mit oxcitement in ite”

“I ain't heerd o’ et, ef thar is. Did ye ever hear thet
ole saw erbout a fool an’ his money ?”

PinO. “Vet it I867

“Soon parted, baron!”

And, with that, old Nomad grinned and walked on.

“A fool und his money vas soon barted,’’ mused the
baron. “Vat iss it he means by dot? I schust gif oop
all vat I hat to him, und now he gomes pack mit dose
remarks aboudt a fool und his money vas soon barted!
Fle shpeaks more like a hired man as a bard. Anyvays,
dere iss vone tollar from vich I von’t be parted any
longer as I can helup.”

Leaving the hitching pole, the baron ee between
two buildings, and, by a detour, came to the rear of the
Poker Palace. a

There was no basetnent under the Poker Palace.

answered the
Iss der anyt’ing

The

‘building was set up-a little from the ground, on wooden

sills and corner posts, and the space between the sills
and the ground—some two feet—had been boarded up
There were holes in the boards, and in places the board

_were broken away.

Very cautiously, the: baron looked around to make sure
he was not observed, then dropped to his knees, enlarged
an opening in the boards, and crawled through.

In a few moments he was directly under the floor of
Palace. Dollars were still clinking on~the

toh AA si Stn

 
i

yl

 

opal &

directly under the hole.

munication.
~means of locating the King Pin.

THE BUPFALG

floor, and there was a mumble of voices and a schuffling
of feet overhead. The half- dozen men were still at their
crack-loo.

There was just room for the baron to move about on
his hands and knees, and he angled back and forth across
the dark pocket, hunting for the knot hole in the floor
and for his dollar.

He found the dollar, and was about to crawl out
through the opening he had enlarged, when a very strange
thing happened and held a eee for several mo-
ments. ~

Dimly, yet distinctly, the aon saw a hand thrust
itself through an opening in the boards at the side of the
building, and drop something into a cigar box that stood
There was no lid to the cigar
box. The hand was not more than five feet from the
baron, and he saw that it was minus a thumb. After
executing its work, the hand was swiftly withdrawn, and
the baron could hear some one Tats away from the
side of the building.

“Vell, py shiminy grickeds !” Sanraiiced the baron.
“Sooch a surbrise vat it iss! Vat iss der t'ing vat der
handt lefdt in dér pox? Vas it a ledder?”’

~The baron investigated. Yes; the object in the box
was a letter.

When the baron had spelled out the address on the
letter, he caught his breath.

@HAPTER II.
THE MAN WITH THE BB TSSENG THUMB.

Abe Gindelee. ©
This was the name, written in a scrawling hand, on
the letter.

_ It was a name that recalled vividly to the baron’s mind
a number of unpleasant experiences.

- Abe Gindelee, otherwise “The King Pin,” had con-
ceived a plan for stealing $25,000 from Pawnee Bill and
a man named Henry Ormond.

The plan had fallen through, mainly because fate had
shuffled the baron into\a favorable position for- manipu-

_lating the old, original, double back-acting, Cody-Lillie

kybosh.

Dudley, one of the King Pin gang, had been captured,
and the rest of the gang had gone into retirement. This
letter, addressed to Abe Gindelee, and dropped into a
Box under the Poker Palace by a hand that was minus a
thumb, was the first echo out of the exciting and recent

- past to reach the baron.
_ “What should he do?” he asked himself, as his fingers

closed convulsively on the letter.

Keep the letter, of course! was his thought. Buffalo
Bill and Pawnee Bill would want to look at that com-
Possibly the mysterious letter would be the

Then, too, the man jwho had dropped the letter into
the cigar box must hafe some connection with the gang.
If not really one of the lawless crowd, he certainly must
have some knowledge of the whereabouts of the outfit.

This man could not be very far away. It was possible
that he was somewhere around the Poker Palace.

In the days before the King Pin and his followers
had come under ban of the law, the Poker Palace had

- I got a greadt headt for dot pitzness.

BILL STORIES. . 3

been their rendezvous when visiting the town of Last
Chance. It was very natural, therefore, that the cigar-
bos post office should be under the Palace floor. It had
been so located either with or without the connivance of
the proprietor of the Palace.

The baron finally decided that he eu take possession
of the letter, and go back into the gambling establishment
to look for a man with a missing thumb.

“T vill be a tedectif,” muttered the baron. “I bed you
I vill make a sleuth
oudt oof meinseluf, und see vot I can do. Vat a luck dot
I lose dot tollar, py shinks! Nodding efer habbens for
nodding. Dere iss no agsidents in dis vorlt. I lost der
tollar, und I shneak pack to findt him, und I see dot handt
mitoudt a tumb. Ach, vat a luck! Now I get oudt und
make some tedectif vork.”

The baron got back to the place where he had entered
the regions under the gambling establishment, and rolled
through the breach in the board wall. He looked around
carefully. . No one was in sight. |

He did not go at once into the Poker Palace, but sought
the cover of a shed in the rear, and proceeded to free
his clothes of the moist sand which was adhering to
them.

“Ven a feller pulls off some tedectif vork,” he rumi-
nated, “he has got to tink all der time oof vat he iss
erboudt. Some tedectifs, vat didn’t haf so mooch sense
as me, vouldn’t haf paid any addention to der dirt vat
iss on deir clothes, und meppyso dot vould haf peen some
gif-avays. Hoop-a-la! I bed somet! ing for nodding dot »
I make goot at dis tedectif pitzness.”

Having cleaned up his coat and trousers with painstak-
ing care, the baron started for the front entrance of the
Poker Palace. His cap was festooned with cobwebs. He
had not thought to give his cap any attention—which
proves that the most alert detective mind will overlook
a point or two now, and then. ;

Only five of the @riginal players were now engaged in
the game of crack-loo. The greasy-looking individual
had taken a chair, and was smoking a cob pipe and look-
ing on.

“Cut yer leadin’ string an’ got back, did yer” jeered —
the greasy person, his glimmering eyes resting on the
baron.

_. The other five likewise had something to say. The
barkeeper was still snoring, with his chair tilted back
against the wall.

“Dot’s my pitzness how I ged pack,’
baron, with dignity.

He leaned against the bar and allowed bn eyes to take
in the five players. They were tossing their dollars with
their thumbs and forefingers, and each of them had two:
good thumbs, as could readily be seen.

_ The baron, in his most careless fashion, strolled over
to the snoring barkeeper. That gentleman’s hands were
clasped over the pit of his stomach, and he, like the five
players, had two good thumbs.

The baron continued his stroll around the room, Fi
nally a momentous thought struck him, and he dropped
into a chair by a poker table.

The thought was this:

While the baron was engaged in the game of crack-loo,
he had observed that the annoying person with the
corduroy trousers was left-handed. Always, when he
flipped his dollar, he used his left thumb and forefinger.

answered the

 
 

 

4 : - THE BUFFALO

Was this because he was really left-handed, or because
he had not the necessary thumb on his right hand?

The baron, deeply impressed with his clever reason-
ing, calmly filled and lighted his pipe. Out of the haze
of tobacco smoke that presently floated around his head,
he gazed at the disagreeable person, who was so ready
with his sneers and his gibes.

His right hand, as he sat in his chair, was in his trou-
sers pocket. In order to keep the hand in the pocket,
he was forced to take a strained and unnatural position.

“Meppy dere iss someting wrong mit dot hand,”
thought the baron, “Id vas a righdt handt vat put der
ledder indo der cigar box—yah, I feel pooty sure oof dot.
Dot feller iss using his left handt mit his pipe, und how
vill I ged a look at der odder?”

The greasy person presently gave the baron an open-
ing.
“Hey, Wienerwurst,” he called across the room, “hev
ye got the nerve ter toss another game with me?’

“T got nerf for anyt’ing vat I vant to do,” replied the
baron. ‘‘Schust now I don’d vant to blay any more dot
crack-loo.”

“Feared the ole trapper’ll find it out, huh?’

“Dot's my pitzness, und nod yours.”

“Whoosh! Yeh dassen’t call yer soul yer own! When-
ever Buffler Bill cracks the whip, ye got ter jump. All
he’s got ter do is ter give the word, an’ ye'll lay down an’
roll over, walk lame, er play dead. I'd like ter see a feller
boss me like that!”

All this was very maddening to the baron. He forgot
that he was a detective, and remembered only that he was
a Dutchman with a grievance. !

Jumping up, he knocked the tobacco out of his pipe
bowl, and clattered over to the man in the chair.

“T haf shtood all from you vat I can!” he glowered.
“T haf some chips on ny shoulter, py shimineddy! Lay
down und roll ofer!” 6

“What's that?’ snorted the su lifting himself
slowly erect. : e

“T say for you to lay down und roll ofer!” repeated the
baron sharply. “Also I vill make you valk lame und play
deadt pefore I vas droo mit you. I don’d vas a dog mein-
seluf, aber I prove to eferybody dot you vas: more kinds
oof a yellow cur as I can mention. Vill you ged pitzy,

oder haf I got to lay handts on you?”
' “Lay hands on me, you Dutch sausage, an’ thar
won’t be a grease spot left 0’ ye!”

The man still kept his right hand in his trousers
pocket. His left wandered back toward his hip.

The baron detected the hipward movement as soon as
it had begun. At once he began a few movements of
his own. His fists went out, and his enemy went down.

“Roll ofer!’ cried the baron, standing close, with one
lifted foot. “Roll ofer oder I kick you ofer, py shinks!’

The man’s answer was a lurid oath. Simultaneously,

he reached out both hands and caught the baron’s lifted .

foot.. The next moment the baron also went down, but
he fell directly on top of the man on the floor.

Then they both began to roll over, playing havoc with
the chairs and tables, and making a din that caused the
barkeeper to gasp, drop his tilted chair on the floor, and
open his eyes. No explanations were needed to acquaint
him with what was going on. A fight was in progress,
and he had orders to quell any rough-house that might
take place inside the Palace. ae

“Hyer, you!” he shouted huskily, hurrying toward the

apart.

BILL STORIES.

combatants. “Quit that! Ye kain’t cut no sich capers
in here! Jf ye want ter fight, go out inter the street,
where thar’s plenty o’ room an’ no furniture to smash.
Quit, 1 tell ye!’

At just that moment the baron’s antagonist had gripped
his right hand around the baron’s left wrist. The baron
stared at the hand. The thumb was missing!

At once the baron remembered that he had come into
the Poker Palace the second time looking for a man with
a missing thumb. Realizing that his search had been
successful; his anger faded into exultation.

The five other men, coming to the barkeeper’s aid, had
laid hold of the two fighters, and were dragging them
The baron offered no resistance, although his
antagonist seemed very wroth and determined to keep

up the combat.

“Hold yer bronks, Hackberry,” panted the barkeeper.
“T ain’t goin’ ter have nothin’ like this goin’.on in here.”

“T’ll saw off squar’ with that Dutch slob!” fumed Hack-
berry. “He kain’t jump.me like he done without
playin’ even fer it!’

“Bah!” snorted the baron, picking up his cap, and
retreating toward the door. ‘Bah, I say,’ and he snapped
his fingers, “‘schust like dot. I haf so mooch contempts
for you dot I say nodding more.’’

Still exultant, and with the mysterious letter in his
pocket, he walked to the swing doors, paused there for
one more defiant look at Hackberry, and then vanished.

CHAP DER ATL:
PAWNEE BILL’S FOREBODINGS.

“Maybe this road isn’t so long as some others, necarnis,
but it’s just as wide; and I'll gamble my spurs it’s capable
of stirring up more trouble to the mile than any other
road in a thousand miles.” :

Pawnee Bill was just back from the town of Tickaboo,
at the northern end of the Tickaboo, Last Chance, and
Southern. It was five o’clock in the afternoon, and
Pawnee Bill had come down from Tickaboo on a special
engine.

The T., L. C. & S., locally referred to as the “Jerk-

water Line,’ was a fifty-mile railroad, and had been con-

structed by the mining men in the hills, as a means for
getting their ores to the smelter at Tickaboo.

The road, swinging across gulches on dizzy trestles,
and piercing mountains with long tunnels, had cost an
immense amount of money to build. The rails were
heavy and the roadbed solid. Necessarily, that part of
the work had been well done.

Rolling stock was of secondary importance, and when
the road was ready for the trains, second-hand “gondolas”’
were picked up at bargain rates for the transportation
of ore, discarded passenger coaches were purchased from
other lines for the passenger department, and four loco-
motives were secured from % railway repair shop in
Denver. r

Pawnee Bill not only owned a half interest in a mining
property near Last Chance, but he was also a heavy stock-
holder in the railroad. He had gone up to Tickaboo on
the afternoon of the preceding day, summoned by a tele-
gram from the general manager. Now he was back, and
he was filled with forebodings.

VR Nth Mae mat oath Kh A song ies nate ini tach soumaneieatinnnatnasemssnes tS

 

‘
re ee

hh CD Re te

 

peo an

~ Lightning-that-strikes,”

a false beard to his face.

THE BUFFALO

“What happened in Tickaboo, Pawnee?” inquired the

Scouts ‘

“Why, Hodges, the G. M., is in a taking, Pard Bill,”
answered the prince of the bowie, ‘‘and he passed some
of the nerve strain along to me.”

“It’s something new for you to have an attack of
nerves,” laughed the scout.

“Worry-a-heap is a lot more bother to a tribe than
remarked Pawnee Bull oracu-
larly, reaching mto the.crown of his Stetson for a smoke,
and setting it to going under forced draft.

They were sitting out in front of the hotel, in a scrap
of shade thrown by a small cottonwood. The hotel office
was occupied only by the proprietor and a man from the
mines, with whom he was playing seven-up. Little Cayuse,
curled up on a bench in the sun, was dozing. There was
no one else in the vicinity of the pards.

“Make it plain, Bill,” said the scout, quick to perceive

that there was something of importance in the back of ©

the bowie man’s head.
Pawnee Bill took a quick look around, drew his chair
closer to the scout’s, and went on in a lowered voice.
“It’s like this, necarnis. There are now at large in these

hills several men who will stop at nothing in carrying out

any lawless scheme that may suggest itself. I refer .to
Abe Gindelee, the King Pin, as he calls himself, and
certain of his men, who are known to us as Sim, Hamp,
fz, Pete, and Jingles. Dudley doesn’t count, being now
in the stone yamen in Tickaboo, awaiting tr ial.”

“You still believe that Gindelee and his gang are hang-
ing out in these hills?”

“Gindelee was seen yesterday morning in Tickaboo.”

The scout started.

“Seen there?” he returned.
why wasn’t he captured?’

‘ie was too slippery, Pard Bill): The clerk at: the
Grafton House saw Gindelee in the washroom, adjusting
The clerk slipped out and noti-
fied the sheriff, and the sheriff went to the hotel. But
the man with the false whiskers had faded. He hasn’t
been seen since.”

~bhe clerk may have been mistaken,”
scout.

“That’s possible, of course. But Hodges don’t think
so. It’s what the clerk saw that caused Hodges to wire
for me. Say, but that G. M. is badly worried, necarnis.
I guess he’s had a dream, or something, that puts our
road in bad on account of the King Pin. Anyhow, the

“If he was seen, Pawnee,

suggested the

-.G. M. is willing to bet his eyeteeth that something is
- going to happen to the line, and that Abe Gindelee is

planning to be back of it with all his kiyis.”
“What does Hodges think will happen?”
SRrOliap p
“Whent 7?

“Why, to-morrow is a good day‘ for it, providing in-

formation got out regarding certain shipments that are
due to go over this standard-guage, fifty-mile eae

of rails and ties.”
“What shipments ?” . {

_. “Well, pard, you know what a big business is done by
the bank here in Last Chance? Several stamp mills in
the hills deposit bullion with the bank, and all the mines,
more or less, draw money for*their pay rolls here. That
makes it necessary, you see, for the bank to handle a
lot of gold going out, and a lot of money coming in. Day
after to-morrow will be the first of the month, afid then

\

BILL STORIES. , 5

there'll be a line of men at the paying teller’s window,
cashing checks against their bullion accounts in order to
get pay-roll money,’ ¢

Pawnee Bill leaned forward and whispered:

“On the passenger train that gets here tomorrow even-
ing at nine o'clock will be one hundred thousand dollars
in cash for the bank.”

“It will be consigned in care of the express company,
won't it? The express company will be responsible for
the money.”

“It’s like this, necarnis,’ explained Pawnee Bill. “The
money comes from Denver by Wells Fargo; at Tickaboo
it’s turned over to our own express company—a compaty
owned and controlled by the T., L. C.& S$. If anything
happens to that money, the road will have to stand for
it. Ifthe road was to get a black eye of that sort, why,
it would go into a receivership—and one of the trunk
lines would gobble it-up at its own figure. The stock-
holders—and I’m one of ’em—would see their holdings
wiped out.”

thar shipment must be guarded so well, Pawnee,”
said the scout, “that there won't be any chance for the
holdups to get at the money.”

“Tt will be guarded to the limit, of course; but the
country through which the road runs is so rough and
unsettled that there’s a chance for a lot to happen.”

“Gindelee has only five men with him. I don’t think
that six men can do much if there is a determined guard
of, say, a dozen men, with the shipment of money.”

“Tust what I told Hodges, but he wouldn’t be soothed.
He’s got a bee in his bonnet that something’s going to
happen to-morrow, and he’s pretty near sick abed. He
had this idea a week ago, and when the clerk at the Graf-
ton House saw some one he thought was Gindeleein the —
washroom, Hodges wired for me. The G. M. has so
mitch money tied up in the road that, if anything happens
to his stock, he'll be ruined.”

“There are several things you can do.
ment back 4,

“That won't do,
money on the first.”

“Send it on by a special train.”

Pawnee Bill laughed.

“There’s no engine to haul a special,” said he, “and.
the through line at Tickaboo won't lend us one.”

“Where's the engine that brought you up from Ticka-
boo?”
\ “It’s gone on to Lillie, at the southern end of the line,
to help to-morrow’s freight over the high places to Ticka-
boo. ‘There’s a double-header going to Tickaboo, carry-
ing about fifteen loads of the richest ore that was ever
mined, They say that the yellow stuff sticks right out of
it, and that the ore assays ten thousand dollars to the ton.
It’s a strike made in the North Star Mine, necarnis, and
the owners of the mine are in a rush to get the ore to.
Tickaboo.”

“Then two bonanza shipments, one of ore, and the
other of money, are due to go over the line to-morrow?”

“That’s it. If anything happens to either one of them,
there’ll be trouble for the road. As a common carrier,
you. know, the road has got to handle the stuff or lose
its chatter.”

“What time does the fr eight leave Lillie?”

“At two in the afternoon.”

“And the passenger train, with the hundred thousand

Hold the ship- —

 

The miners have got to have their.

 
 

Lo THE BUFFALO

dollars in the express car, leaves Tickaboo at seven in
the evening?’ -
““Tyat’s it.
fore the passenger leaves there.’
“What does Hodges suggest, Pawnee?”

“He suggests that Buffalo Bill and pards.go up on the

passenger train that leaves here at two in the afternoon,
and come back with the boodle in the express car. That
would afford Hodges a spasm of relief.”

“We'll do it, then. I think he’s unduly exercised over
this matter, and that Gindelee and his men, or any other

Jawless scoundrels in the hills, would hesitate a long

while before they tried to steal that money.”

“Gindelee made his threats, you know,” said the prince
of the bowie, “that he’d do something big on the line
before he left this part of the country.”

“That was talk.”

“Anyhow, mecarnis, the talk has had its effect on
Hodges. I’ve premonitiotis, too. Maybe they’re foolish,
and entirely the result, of my talk with the G. M.; but
I’ve got them, for all that.” _

“Well, we'll make our arrangements to ride down to
Tickaboo with the bonanza ore train, instead of the after-
noon passenger, and come back with the train leaving
Tickaboo at seven in the evening. In that way, Pawnee,
we'll be able to guard the treasure both ways.”

“Good idea, necarnis! Ill wire the G. M., and—ah,
here’s the baron,’ he finished, catching a glimpse of the
Dutchman hurrying toward them, “and he looks as though
he had something on his- mind, too.”

The baron, excited and exultant, slowed to a halt under
the cottonwood.

“T haf made vone oof dose den strikes, bards!”

-mured the baron. oe

“What sort of a ten strike, baron?’ asked the scout.

“Schust look at dot! Read him, oof you blease; und
den I oxblain vere I ged him.”

With that, the baron drew the mysterious letter from
his pocket, and ‘passed it over to Buffalo Bill. The scout
stared in amazement at the name on the -envelope, and
then lifted his keen eyes to the Dutchman.

ImUt-

 

CHAPTER IV.
THE LETTER.

“This letter is addressed to Abe Gindelee,” sdid the
scout.

“T know dot,’ answered the baron. “Dot’s vat’s der -

smadder mitt,’

_ “Where did you get it, baron?”
The baron looked around.
“Vere iss Nomat?” he inquired. *
“T sent him to look for you. You trailed into the

Poker Palace a couple of hours ago, and I asked Nick to

make sure you didn’t run up against any brace games and

lose your five hundred dollars. But tell me where you
got this.” ;

“Dit you efer blay dot game oof crack-loo?’” asked the

baron. .

“What's that?”

The baron explained, and both Bills laughed.

“T never took a hand in a game of that sort, baron,”
said the scout. “But what has the game of crack-loo to
do with this letter?”

ae

The freight train will get to Tickaboo be-
Li recent: cyents,

BILL. STORIES.

“Tt shows how tings come oudt somedimes ven you
don’t oxpect nodding to habben like it does.”

Thereupon he launched into a lengthy exposition of
He set forth the manner in which his
dollar had gone ‘through the knot hole in the floor of
the Poker Palace; told how Nomad had come and taken
him away, and appropriated his money ; how he had gone
back to the Palace, found the dollar, and seen the thumb-
less hand drop the letter into the cigar box. And then fol-
lowed the recital down to the point where he had left the
gambling resort after discovering that Hackberry was the
man who had put the letter in the box. |

The baron relieved himself of all this with a great deal
of dignity. His chest was well out, and his shoulders
well back, and it could readily be seen that his pride in
his recent accomplishment was most pronounced.

“Baron, you old ne-be-nau-baig,” spoke up Pawnee Bill,
“you’ve been starring yourself ever since you hit this part
of the country. You turned that five hundred by riding on
a car roof during a thunderstorm,* and now you have
started in to make another hit. Pretty soon you'll
be the witole thing, and the rest of your pards will have
to go on the retired list.” :

You could have tied the baron’s complacent grin behind
his ears; at that. He waved his hands deprecatingly.

' “You make some flatterings mit me, Pawnee Pill,” said

he. “I vas a goot feller to get der hang oof t’ings, aber
vere vould I bé midoudt you, und Puffalo Pill, und der
resdt to follow dem oop, hey?” —

“Nississhin, baron, nississhin! Let’s hear what’s inside
of that letter, Pard: Bill.”

Carefully, the king of scouts ran his knife blade under
the flap of the envelope. .

“The King Pin is a fugitive from justice,” he remarked,
“and we've a right to look into anything that may help
to locate him. On that principle, Pawnee, we're going to
look into this.”

Laying back the flap, the scout drew forth the enclosed
sheet, unfolded it, and ran his eyes hastily over the writing
it contained. Suddenly he let the letter drop to his knee,
and gave vent to a long whistle of astonishment.

“On-she-ma-da!’’ murmured Pawnee Bill. ‘You've got
me going, pard. What’s it all about?”

“Come into the hotel,” answered the scout, scrambling

to his feet, and picking up the letter and the envelope.
“It begins to look as though the baron had indeed made
a ten strike. This is too public a place to go into this
matter any deeper® Come up to my room.”

‘Very much excited, and profoundy-curious, the prince
of the bowie and the baron followed the scout into the
hotel, through the office, and up to his room on the second

, floor:

When the door of the room had been closed and locked,
to insure privacy, the pards seated themselves.

“Listen to this,” said the scout, and began to read:

“Axe: Everything’s all right at Lillie. There'll be three
brakemen, a conductor, and the engine crew with that
ore train. The brakemen and the engine crew are with
us. The conductor stands by the railroad company, but
he won’t count. The whole train crew will mutiny just
south of Cafion Diablo, get lashings on the conductor,
halt the train on the cafion trestle, and throw over four

 

*See Burrato Birt Srortes No. 492: “Buff ae 0. Ks
of, Rewnee Bill’s Warning.” 49 uffalo Bill’s

ia \ pus

a sea
ee

 

 
‘throw oyer the sacked ore.

that cunning scoundrel, Gindelee

 

 

THE BUFFALO

or five tons of the sacked ore. Be stire and have wagons
that will carry at least five tons ready in the bottom oi
the cafion. It goes ten thousand to the ton, and you can

‘easily figure out what five tons mean to us. It’s a slick
scheme, and we can work it with ground to spare. Be

ready with the wagons, Abe, and we'll have the ore to
load them. Hastily, BANNOCK,”

“Tell me about that!” gasped-Pawnee Bill. “A mutiny,
a railroad mutiny! A whole train crew, with the excep-
tion of the conductor, goes over to the King Pin crowd,
and steals five tons of ten-thousand-dollar ore in transit.
Shades of Unk-te-hee!”

“Vat a shteal dot vould be!’
“Himmel-blitzen !”

“And the worst of it is,’ went on the excited Pawnee
Bill, “the gang could work through the trick. There's a
trail through the cafion, and there Abe Gindelee will have

exclaimed the baron.

his wagons. The train is stopped on the trestle, and the

mutinous crew, after tying up the conductor, proceed to
The sacks will be torn to
pieces in dropping from the trestle to the bottom of the
cafion, but that won’t injure the ore any. All of it can
be shoveled into the wagons, carted to some old mine,
dumped into it, and then taken out and shipped as though
it had come from the old mine instead of the North Star,
By the sacred O-2u-ha! This is some more scheming by
Pe.

Pawnee Bill jumped to his feet and started for the

door.

_. “Where are you going, Pawnee?” inquired the scout,

“I’m going to wire Hodges. He must come down on
the train to-night, go through to Lillie, and get another
crew for that bonanza ore train. If we don’t nip this
thing in the .

“Wait a minute, patd,” said the scout. “I’ve got an-
other scheme. Baron’—and he turned to the Dutchman
—“go down to the office and get a bottle of mucilage. If
you can see Notnad, send him up here with Cayuse. Don't
do any talking.” ne

“Nod me,’ answered the baron, swelling up with the
great importance of the work ahead of the scout and his
pards. “I vill be mum as some oysders.”

 

"He left the room. Buffalo Bill laid the letter on the
-_washstand, filled his pipe and lighted it, and leaned calmly

back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head, and
thoughtful eyes fixed on the curling smoke.
_ The prince of the bowie was pacing back and forth.
“That letter, mecarnis,’ said he, “doesn’t say a word
about any guards with the ore train.” —
“Were some to be sent?”
“T understood that the miners were going to send a few
men along.” |
“Probably Abe Gindelee and his men intend to help

/

the mutinous train crew by taking care of the guards. If

we work this properly, Pawnee, we can bag the King
Pin and the treacherous railroad men. ‘The baron’s luck
in getting that letter seems almost too good to be true.”

. “Queer place for a post office, there under the Poker
Palace!” murmured the bowie man. “And yet, of all the

places in town, that would certainly be the place for the
gang to arrange a letter box. Gindelee and his men used
to hang ott at the Palace.”

At that moment the baron returned, bringing the bottle
-of mucilage. The old trapper and the little Piute fol-

lowed at his heels. _

BILL’ STORIES. a 7

“Quiet, Nick,” cautioned the scout, as Nomad began
bellowing some jocose remark about the baron and crack-
loo, “We have some warm work ahead of us, and we'll
have to cut out our joshing and pay strict attention to
business. Close and lock the door, Cayuse, and then
close in around me, all of you.”

oe

The scout’s orders were carried out, and then he read

the letter aloud once more for the benefit of Nomad and
Cayuse, adding a few words by way of explaining how
the letter had fallen into the baron’s hands.

“Er-waugh!” muttered the old trapper. “Ther King
Pin hes bobbed up ag’in, hey! Waal, this time we clip
his spurs fer him, eh? Fust thing on ther program, [
reckon, is ter sashay over ter ther Palace’ an’ take in the
feller with one thumb gone, an’ li,

“No,” said the gcout, “I’ve got a better plan than
that.” ;

He was busy sealing up the opened envelope, working
carefully in order to leave no trace of the letter having
been tampered with.

“Tt’s nearly supper time,” he went on, pushing the letter
to one side to dry, “and immediately after supper the
baron will take that letter to the Palace and replace it in
‘the cigar box. You and Cayuse will go with him, Nick.
When the baron is through with his work he will come
back here, but Nick and Cayuse will hide close tothe
Palace and watch for the man who comes after the let-
ter——” :

- “Av when he does come,” said the trapper, with huge
satisfaction, ‘we nabs him, an’ : : Se

“No, Nick,” interrupted the scout, “you don’t nab him.
You and Cayuse will follow him and watch him. You'd
better have your horses ready so you can ride, for the
man who comes after the letter will probably lose little
time in getting out into the country. You and Cayuse,

 

 

Nick, had better have a day’s rations in your war bags,

for I expect you'll trail along after the gang, and be
handily by when the outfit reaches Cation Diablo, to-mor-
row afternoon. I suppose, Pawnee,’ he added, turning
to the prince of the bowie, “that the ore train will be due
at the cafion about three in the afternoon?” :

“Just about, pard,” answered Pawnee Bill.

“Cayuse an’ me aire ter foller ther pizen varmints ter
ther cafion, an’ ter watch ’em?” asked Nomad.

“That’s the idea. Ill be there, and Pawnee Bill will
be with me——”

“Und me,” clamored the baron. ‘You don’d vas going
to leaf me oudt oof somet’ing vich I shtarted, Puffalo
Pile: ‘

“Certainly not, baron,” said the scout, “you'll have a
hand in the doings-along with the rest of us. We'll meet
you and Cayuse in the cafion, Nick, and we can play our
hand so as to catch the men in the bottom of the canon
and the men on the trestle.” :

Just then the supper bell rang, and the scout started
up. oe
“Put the letter in your pocket, baron,” said he, “If

 

I’m any prophet, it won’t be called for until some time

to-night. And row, pards, let’s go down and have supper.
Immediately after the meal the baron, Nick, and Cayuse

will get busy. I’m beginning to have a few premonitions —

myself, Pawnee,” he finished, with a laugh.

“What sort of premonitions, necarnis?” quetied Pawnee
_ “Why,” said the scout as they left the room, “that there
are lively times ahead of us.”

a

 
 

8 oe THE BUFFALO

CHAPTER V.
GETTING READY FOR TROUBLE.

After supper, the baron slipped away down the street.

It was arranged that Nomad should stroll after him, ulti-
-mately dodging around to the rear of the Poker Palace,
and waiting for the baron to come out, meet him, and
indicate the exact place where the man would have to
come to get the letter.. Cayuse was to make ready his
pinto and the trapper’s mount, and lead them, by a round-
about way, into the gloomy regions back of the Palace.’

Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill, sitting over their pipes
under the cottonwood, entered into a cautious discussion
of ways and means. oe

“It’s a big relief, wecarnis,” said the prince of the bowie,
“to know it’s the ore train, and not the money train, that’s
in danger.” :

“Probably,” returned the scout, “Gindelee thinks there
are too many difficulties in the way of lifting the treasure
from the express car. If we nab the whole gang of rob-
bers in Cafion Diablo, Pawnee, we'll have to tevise that
idea of going to Lillie, riding back on the ore train, and
coming up in the treasure car from Tickaboo.”

“That will be a hard blow for Hodges. He was count-

_ ing on our riding to Last Chance with the money. I can’t
wire him an explanation, either; for we’ve got to keep
our information about the King Pin’s plans under our
hats for the present.” ey

“Yes,” agreed the scout, “we've got to keep Gindelee’s
plans, and otir own, as dark as possible.”

“I wonder who this man Bannock is, who wrote the
letter?” | Pr

“A new member of the gang, I reckon. I figure that
Bannock has been working the Lillie end of Gindelee’s
scheme, and that he succeeded in bribing the train crew
to turn against the railroad company. Bannock turned
the letter over to Hackberry, and Hackberry put it in the
cigar box, where one of the men with Gindelee could
readily lay hands on it. Bannock never came into Last

Chance, I take it, and Hackberry has probably been out -

of the camp for some time. Where will Hodges get his

guards, now that we’re not going to do. that part of it?”

“A Tickaboo deputy sheriff has offered to furnish men.
The deputy’s name is Briggs, and he’s a man whom
Hodges knows well and trusts to the limit. Ill simply
wire Hodges to let Briggs furnish the men.” *

“That will do.”

“You are intending that you and I and the baron: will
ride to Cafion Diablo to-morrow forenoon?”

“How far is the cafion from Last Chance?”

“Six miles.” er

“Between here and the old ore spur, where we had

our last give-and-take with the King Pin men?”

“Yes. The same trail we took in following Dudley
crosses the cafion. A blind trail comes into the Last
Chance road in the cafion’s bed.”

“Ah, yes!. I remember crossing that cafion, now. I
think it would be well, Pawnee, for you and the baron to
ride out of Last Chance on the ore train.”

“But if the crew should see us, mecarnis, they might
suspect that we were next to their plans.”

“Don’t let them see you. Couldn’t you and the baron.
_ stow yourselves away aboard the ore cars withott being —

seen? If you could do that, you might be ina better posi-
tion to help Cayuse, Nomad, and me at the cafion. You'd

‘Street, and started into the hotel,

BILL. STORIES.

be up on the trestle when the unloading began, and if you
could find the conductor and get the lashings off him, he’d
be a valuable aide. If there are guards with the cars, you
can help the guards fight off the King Pin crowd.”

“I guess you've got a bean on the right number,
necarmis, ruminated Pawnee Bill. “Hadn’t-you better go
with the ere train, too, instead of getting to the cafion
eater: |

“I want to be on the ground as soon as I can get there,
and at least a couple of hours ahead of the time the ore
train is due at the cafion. I shall have to round up Nomad
and Cayuse, and be ready to chip in when the fun begins.”

“Have we got men enough? _ The way I figure it,
Pard Bill, there are eight in Gendelee’s gang, counting
Bannock and Hackberry.. Then there are the two men
in the engine cab of the freight train, and the three brake-
men. That makes thirteen against us.”

“The engine crew will probably stay with the engine.
While the train is on the trestle, running back and forth
around the cars will be out of the question. Count out
the mutinous train crew, and you have eleven left.. If you
can rescue the conductor and get his help, you and the
baron and the conductor will make three, and Nomad,
Cayuse, and I will make three more—six all together.

“The advantage will be on our side, Pawnee, because
we're springing the surprise. Then, again, if there are
any miners with the ore cars you'll have them on your
side. We've got to keep our plans quiet, as you just
remarked, and if we try to get men from here to help us,
a a chance for what we are doing to spring a
eak.

“Buenos, pard,” assented Pawnee Bill. “I guess we can
manage it if nothing goes wrong.”

“We've got to be careful,” declared the scout, “and
make sure that nothing does go wrong. This man Ban-
nock, I feel sure, will not be with the gang in Cafion
Diablo. If he was going to join them, why doesn’t he do
So at once, instead of sending that letter to Abe by Hack-
berry? It’s possible, too, that Hackberry himself won't
be with the King Pin outfit in the cafion. If he intended
to be, he would have carried the letter to them instead of

leaving it in that cigar box under the Poker Palace, to
be called for.”

“Whoosh!” murmured the prince of the bowie, rubbing
a hand across his forehead. “There are so many kinks
in this proposition that I’m getting all snarled up.”

“It’s complicated,” said the scout, “and yet it’s simple
enough. The King Pin scoundrels are. going to try and
dump some of that rich ore’ out of the cars and into the
bottom of Cafion Diablo. In this they’re to be helped
by a mutinous train crew. Our business is to surprise
them at their work, and make a clean haul of the entire
gang, if possible. In any event, however, we're to save -
the ore and capture Abe Gindelee. You and I, and’the
rest of our pards, will come together in the cafion, and
take the thieves, as I hope, completely by surprise. By
getting to the cafion a couple of hours ahead of the train,
Vl be able to look over the surroundings and plan the
tight kind of a move when the pinch comes.”

“That’s the ticket!’ exclaimed Pawnee Bill, —

Just at that moment the baron came up from down the

3 The scout saw him as
he stepped into the glow of light that poured through the
office door. ne oe?

“Hello, baron !” he called.

PAA

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
NE ehh aa ween Wer en te Low we. t a

ee

Av Pe ee:

v reas

away without making a bet.

 

THE BUFFALO

The baron whirled around and made his way in the
direction of the two dusky forms under the cottonwood.
“Iss dot you, Puffalo Pill?” he asked cautiously. “Der

light isS SO pright, and vere you vas iss so plack, dot I.

can’t see nodding.”

- “Drop your voice, baron,” cautioned the scout.
you put the letter back in the box ?”
“You bed mty life,’ answered the baron, “und I ditn’t

ged him dere any too kevick.”

“How’s that?”

“Vy, it vas like dis, bard: Pefore I leaf dot hole under
der floor a ltandt reaches in und takes der ledder, Ven I
come oudt, a.man iss gedding on a horse pack oof der
honkatonk, und he rides avay vile I shtick my headt oudt.
Oof I hat peen a gouple oof minids lader, der feller
vouldn’t haf got der ledder.”

“You were lucky. in getting the letter back just vn
you did. Had Cayuse joined Nomad with the horses?”

“Yah, $0, schust a leedle vile peMre I vent under der
floor.”

“And they rode away after the man?”

“Yah, wohl! I see dem.rite afder der feller.”

“Which way did the man go?”

“You rememper der vay you vent, dot odder time, + ven
you shased afder ae ee

Pes: 3

“Vell, dot feller mit der ledder vent dot vay, und Nomat
und Cayuse vent afder him.”

“Qn-she-ma-da!’”’? muttered Pawnee Bill.
headed for Cafion Diablo, all right.”

“Aber dere iss somet’ing vat I can’t understand,” went
on the baron.

“What’s that?” asked the scout. |

“Vell, I vent indo der Poker Palace. Dere vas a rou-
dette outfit going, und a crowd oof peoples vas aroundt. I
bed me ter dollar vat I hat in my bocket—planked him
down on der ret-——”

“Of course!” exclaimed the scout, “you couldn’t get
And of course, baron, you
bet on the red, and the black won, eh?’

“How you guess it oudt?’

“It wasn’t a hard guess.”

“Vell, I see dot Hackberry feller at dot roulette out-

They’ re

ft :

“Pia cltierey 2” echoed the scout, startled. »
“Yah, so. He was bedding himseluf, und he gif me a
pad look mit his eyes und shake his fist. Den I hat a
tought, Puffalo Pill, und rushed avay mit it to you.’

“What sort of a thought was it, baron?’

“Vell, I vonder vy der plazes dot Hackberry feller
didn’t keep dot ledder und gif it to der odder feller? For
vy dit he go to all der trouble to put der ledder in der
cigar box, ven he could haf handet it ofer mitoudt using
der box ad all?’

There wa’ a silence.

“Tt looks queer,’ commented Pawnee Bill.

“Very likely,’ hazarded the scout, not\a little puzzled :

by the baron’s information, “Hackberry was afraid of
being seen, and didn’t know when the other man would
come for the letter. I reckon I’ll stroll over to the Palace

and have’a look at Hackberry. You two go to bed. I'll -

be back presently and hit my own bunk.”

 

iid

BILL SIORIES: : 9

CHAPTER Vi.
GETTING DOWN TO WORK.

Buffalo Bill was more puzzled over the peculiar actions
of the man Hackberry than he cared to admit to his
pards. Why the fellow should make use of the cigar box
when he could just as well have delivered the letter in”
person, was rather difficult to understand.

He may not have known the man who was to come for
the letter, or he may have expected the man to come at
an hour when it could not be delivered personally, Either
of these guesses might have been a sufficient explanation,
but, somehow, neither of them satisfied the scout.

When events were not running logically, a subtle some-
thing down in the scout’s nature stirred vaguely and
apprised him of the fact. He felt that weird premonition
very strongly in the present instance.

It might be well to make a prisoner of Hackberry, and
run the risk of the news getting to Gindelee, than to let
him remain at darge while events of such moment were
almost due to happen.

‘There was a péssibility that Hackberry was a spy of
the King Pins, and had been posted in Last Chance pur-
posely to keep watch of the movements of the scout and
his pards. ‘Gindelee” had vowed, with all the emphasis
he could put into the words, that he would have revenge
on Buffalo Bill and his compadres for the affair in which
Dudley had lost his liberty.

The scout had laughed at the King Pin’s threats; but,
while still holding therh in contempt, he had a feeling that :
Gindelee and his men were keeping track of him and his
pards. Possibly Hackberry was the one who was doing
the spying.

All the games in the Poker Palace were running full
blast when the scout pushed open the swing doors and
entered the gambling hall. The click of the ball in the
roulette wheel, the droning calls of the croupier, the slap
of cards at the poker tables, the rattle of chips from every
corner of the big room, and the clink of. glasses at the
bar formed a background for the hoarse, strident, and
maudlin voices of the players and bar patrons.

There were three men back of the bar now, and they
were all busy.

The scout pushed his way through 2 fog of stale tobacco
smoke, halted near the center of the room, and shouted
Hackberry’ s name at the top of his voice.

A moment of silence followed the call. One of tee
barkeepers, leaning over the bar, beckoned to the scout.

“Lookin’ fer Hackberry, Palhe Bill?” a the man
in the dirty white apron.
“Yes,” the scout answered.
“Well, he’s left town.”
“How long since?” '
“Not more’n half an hour,
anythin’ partic’ler ?”
“Why, as for that,” answered the scout ingenuously,
“my Dutcth pard had some trouble with the man, and |
want to find out about it.’
- The barkeeper grinned. aN
“I reckon that’s the reason Hackberry got out,” said
he. “He was afeared ye might take up the matter.”

“Where did he go?”

“Out inter the hills some’r’s. Thar ain’t nobody seems
ter know jest whar Hackberry belongs.”

“Where does he work?” —

Want to see him about

 
 

10 THE BUFFALO

‘Tie don’t work, he loafs; jest loafs, an’ hunts fer suck-
ers at crack-loo or some other fool game.’

“You don’t know- when he'll come back ?”

“He's here every day or two,”

“Get word to me when he’s here the next time, will

ou?”

“Bank on it, Buffalo Bill!”

The scout’s last request was for effect, more than any-
thing else.
business he had with Hackberry was not pressing, and
would keep. -

On leaving the Poker Palace, the scout turned his steps
toward the town corral, where most of the men who rode
into town for the evening games, left their horses. The
proprietor of the place was lounging on a bench by the
gate. a

“Do you know a man by the name of Hackberry?”
the scout inquired. Hee

“He leaves his hoss here whenever he’s in town,” was
the answer. [oe

“Is his horse in the corral now?”

“He left town somethin’ more’n an hour ago.”

- “Which way did he travel ?” tee

“Give it up.” - .

__ “When he comes back the next time, I wish you’d tell
him that Buffalo Bill would like to see him.”

"T will, shore.” aes es
_ The last request, like the one given the barkeeper, was
for effect, and calculated to allay any suspicions that
‘might arise in the corral keeper’s mind,

_ There was no doubt that Hackberry had really left
SOW. 6 ne
_-“There’s a mystery about that man,” mused the scout,
as he'retraced his way to the hotel, “but the mystery is
of secondary importance. The fact that really counts is
that a holdup is on the cards for to-morrow, and that
through Hackberry the baron found out about it, We'll
turn the tables on the gang, and, I hope, put Gindelee
out of business for good and all,”

_ Pawnee Bill and the baron had already gone to bed, and
the scout lost no time in following them.

_ He was up early the following morning, but not so
eatly as Pawnee Bill. The latter was returning from the
railroad station as the scout stepped out in front of the
hotel for a few breaths of fresh air.

“I sent that wire to Hodges, necarnis,” announced the
prince of the bowie. “He'll have to depend on the guards
Briggs is to furnish him, and I guess he'll just-about
throw a fit when he finds you’re not to ride with the
treasure train. I lightened the blow a little by telling
him he needn’t worry. That’s about all I could say.” |

“He'll not have to worry long, Pawnee,” said the scout.
“By nine o’clock to-night the treasure train will be. in,
and the money will be in the bank. I hope, too, that
Gindelee and his gang will be under guard here, ready te
“join Dudley in the Tickaboo jail,”

“What did you find out about Hackberry ?”

“Nothing, except that he left town a little while after _

jthe baron saw him for the last time in the Palace.”
“Sure he left, necarnis?”

_ “He took his horse from the corral and rode away.

That ought to be proof enough.”

“Somehow, Pard Bill, I’m not feeling easy in my mind.
I'll bet my medicine that something’s going wrong,” |

“You're right there, Pawnee,” laughed: the scout light-

 

He wanted the barkeeper to think that the.

BILL STORIES.

ly. “Something is certainly going wrong with Gindelee
and his gang this afternoon.”

“You still think it’s best for you to ride alone to the
cafion, and for the baron and me to follow on the ore
train?” re nie

“Yes, that appears to be the best plan.” _

~“You know what would happen if Gindelee and his
gang should get a chance at you?”

“I know what would happen to Gindelee,”’ and the
scout laughed again. “Just how much do you know about
the Cafion Diablo, Pawnee?”

“Mighty little; but our landlord knows -all about it.
He worked a gravel bar in the cafion, a year or two ago.”

“He’s a trustworthy sort of fellow, and I think I’ll talk
with him.”

The scout asked the proprietor to come out, and they
sat under the cottonwood and talked.

_ “We want to ask you a few questions, Pardo,” said
Pawnee Bill, “and ye want you to forget all about the
talking we’ve done when we're through,” -

Pardo stared for a moment, and then grinned broadly.

“I can do that, all right,” said he. “Goon with yer
questions.”

“You worked a placer, once, in Cafion Diablo 2?”

“I was sev’ral kinds of a fool when I done that. There’s
‘color’ in the cafion, but nothin’ worth while. I was
down there when the construction, gang was puttin’ the
trestle across, One of their blasts unkivered the likeliest
old cliff dwellin’ I ever seen—not exceptin’ them. in the
Cafion du Chelly, But don’t let-me ramble. Fire away
with yer questions.” 7

“Tell us about the old cliff dwelling,” said the scout.

“No one could ever find the place onless they knowed

tight whar it was. Knowin’ the ropes, ye can git inter it :

from the top o’ the cafion wall, or from the bottom.”
‘Where is it, Pardo?” :
“Just west o’ the trestle. There’s an overhang o’ rock
there—the only overhang in that part o’ the cafion. A
man'on a horse can ride ter the back o’ that overhang
an’ see daylight an’ a path leadin’ up, It’s a stiffish climb
for a hoss, but fifty feet brings a feller inter a niche cur-
tained with granite, an’ back o’ the curtain is four walls
as perfect as these here walls o’ my hotel, Right in the
back 0’ the niche a man can look up an’ see daylight ag’in,

_an’ another climb through a sort o’ rift’ll land him on top

o’ the rimrock. It was in blastin’ out the approach ter
the trestle that the construction gang found that rift.
Comin’ south, it opens on the left, jest after ye git off'n
the trestle. Looks like a blind fissure, but foller it down,
an’ it leads ter the cliff dwellin’, Queer freak o’ natur’,
improved on by them ole aborigines, I reckon. What else
kin I tell ye?” .

“Who else, besides you, knows of that peculiar forma-
tion and the cliff dwelling?” asked the scout.

“Only a few of the construction gang, but they ain't
any of ’em around here no more.” |

The scout got up. heal ae

“Much obliged, Pardo,” said he, “you've told me some-
thing I’m glad to know,” | ; yee

“Glad I could help ye, Buffalo Bill,” answered Pardo,
and went back into the hotel. ee

“Bear what he told us in mind, Pawnee,” went on the
scout. “That old cliff dwelling may come useful to us.”

“Unies it has already been preémpted by Gindelee.”’

“We'll chance that. I’m going to start for the cafion
at eleven o'clock, Now, let’s go in and have breakfast.”

 
 

 
 

 

um. Ugh!’

~ man they had been following.

THE BUFFALO

CHAPTER VII.
A TRAP.

Old Nomad and Little Cayuse considered themselves in
great luck. Standing to horse, side by side in the heavy
shadow of the shed back of the Poker Palace, they saw a
dark form skulk along the side of the gambling house
wall, sink to its knees for a moment, then rise, hurry
to a waiting horse, mount, and ride away.

“That’s our meat, son,’ murmured the old trapper.

“Wuh,’ answered Cayuse.

They let the man get a fair lead, and then followed.

“Thunder!” chuckled Nomad. ‘Blamed ef he ain’t
takin’ ther same trail Dudley took.’ ]

“Ai,” said Cayuse. ‘‘We follow um heap easy.”

After once getting started on that trail it was impossible
for the man ahead to turn to the right or left south of
Cafion Diablo. It was not necessary for Nomad or
Cayuse to keep the man in sight, and they-held their horses
back and followed at a distance which kept the fall of
their animals’ hoofs from reaching the man they were
following. ee

The trail, difficult by day, was doubly difficult by night ;
but Hide-rack and Navi were sure-footed, and could be
trusted to keep their riders out of the chasms which now
and then yawned blackly beside them.

“Warm times ter-morrer, son,” exulted the trapper,

“purvidin’ this feller with ther paper talk brings us close
ter the King Pin an’ his pizen gang.”
“Mebbyso,” said Cayuse.
“An? ain't ther baron ther limit fer pickin’ up cues,
though? Snarlin’ catermounts! Et seems, lately, as

though he couldn’t turn eround without hevin’ some likely ”

tip hit him plumb between the eyes. Think o’ et, pard!
He loses a dollar through a knot hole in ther Palace floor,
goes arter et bumby, an’ sees a hand drappin’ er letter
inter a.seegar box! Them two things couldn’t fall ter-

‘gether thet-er-way oncet in er thousand times. But thet's
ther way things happens fer ther baron ever sence we leit -

Tickaboo. Afore*thet Dutchman knows et, he’s shore
goin’ to be er mascot.” ;

“Ugh!” grunted Cayuse, suddenly drawing rein.

- Instinctively, the trapper pulled Hide-rack to a stop.

“What's ter pay, son?’”? Nomad inquired.

“Tinhorn ahead make um stop. Mebbyso he Pics

we come ‘long behind.”

~~ “Yough luck, thet, ef et’s ther case,” muttered the

trapper.
_ He peered ahead through the gloom, and, in a few
- moments, made out a figure sitting motionless on a horse.

~ “Hey, thar!” shouted the figure.
“Ts he callin’ ter us?” whispered the chagrined Nomad.
' “Wth,” Cayuse whispered back. “We make um bad
break, Pa-e-has-ka say we no let um savvy we follow,
“Come along here,” called the man ahead.
ye’re thar, all right, so what’s the good o’ hangin’ back?”
“We're in fer et,” grumbled Noniad, “so we mout as

. well goon. Ther safest thing fer us, I reckon, is ter lay

ther cimiroon by ther heels. We're comin’,” he yelled.
At that point the trail was bordered with black, om-
inous-looking boulders,-some of them masked with brush
‘ahd stunted trees. The pards rode on cautiously, and
came presently to a halt within half a dozen feet of the

“Who are ye?’ demanded the man sharply.

eT know |

BILL STORIES. | i

“Travelers, same as yerself,”’ replied the old trapper.

“Queer time ter be travelin’ a trail like this,’ was the
other’s comment.

“Which ther same we mout say erbout yerself,’ said
Nomad. .

“Was you follerin’ me?”

“We was ridin’ arter ye. Mebbyso thet’s follerin’, an’
mebbyso et ain’t.”

“T reckon it’s follerin’, all right.” :

“T don’t keer a whoop what ye reckon. You got ter
hev a reason for ev’ry blame’ thing? Don’t own all out-
doors, do ye? Back out o’ ther way, an’ we'll ride on.
Then you kin do the follerin’ if ye’d ruther hev it thet
way.” :

“Ye got ter tell me who ye aire, an’ whar yer game is,’
declared the man, with a touch of malice in his voice.

“Waugh!” snorted the old trapper, his gorge rising.

. “Jest use yer soft pedal, pilgrim, or ye'll hev more kinds

o’ trouble on yore hands than ye kin take keer of. [’m
goin’ by ye!”

~ He forced Hide-rack forward on one side of the man,
and Little Cayuse urged Navi up on the other side. z

“That’s fur enough!” snarled the man in the middle of
the trail. ““When I says a thing I means it. See this
here guirr®, \

“Waugh! Is thet thing ye’re p'intin’ at mea gun? Et’s
purty dark, an’ I kain’t be shore.” eae

“Try ter ride on afore ye’ve answered my questions, an’
I'll prove it’s a gun in a way that won’t leave any doubt.” —

Perhaps the stranger, noting the size of the little Piute
in the gloom, thought he was not worthy of attention; or
perhaps the stranger had only one revolver. Be that as
it may, he gave his whole attention to Nomad, and therein
madeé a mistake. . *

With a swift movement, Cayuse leaned fogward and
struck the arm that was lifting the revolver a quick blow -
with his fist. .

“Bully fer you, kid!” whooped the old trapper, and
flung himself at the man beside him.

Cayuse had a glimpse of the two slipping down between
the horses in a wild struggle; then, most unexpectedly,
Cayuse was grabbed from behind and jerked roughly into
the trail. To his intense surprise, he found himself on his
back, with two hands twisting at his throat, and two knees
holding him down. f

There was a sound of rapid footsteps crunching the
flinty soil, and the footsteps all seemed to converge to-
ward the point where the trapper was struggling with
the stranger. ;

The boy was dazed with the suddenness of it all.
Voices went up. s ie

“T got the Injun!” cried the man who was holding
Cayuse.

“An’ we got ole Nomad!” answered another voice.
“Let go o’ him, Ez. He’s ours, an’ He kain’t do a thing e
. “A trap, by thunder!” bellowed the trapper. “Blazes
ter blazes an’ all hands ’round! A trap, er I’m er Piegan!”

Tremendous amazement throbbed in old Nomad’s
voice. : .

Vas. a trap oe answered some one, “an’ ye rode right
inter it! I kain’t understand why the pards o” the king
© scouts is éracked up so. They’re easy, plumb easy.
Git on the ropes, boys, an’ tie “em to their hosses.”

Getting on the ropes was a matter of only a few mo-
ments. There were five men to do the work, and they
had sprung a surprise and secured an advantage at the

 
 

ia: i _ THE BUFFALO

very beginning. Both the trapper and Little Cayuse
fought instinctively, just as wild cats will fight with one
foot fast in a steel trap. Their resistance was useless,
and they were bound and tied to their horses.

‘When the work was done, four of the men hurried off
to the trailside and reappeared with their mounts.

“I reckon it worked, eh, boys?” guffawed one of the
men. | "

“It worked slicker’n grease, Abe,’ answered one of
the others.

Abe! oe

The sound of that name sent a sudden chill through
old Nomad.

“Looky hyar oncet,” he sputtered. “‘Is the feller they’re
callin’ Abe there ther same as calls hisself the King Pin?”

“Ye’re a good hand at guessin’,” chuckled the man. “I’m
Abe Gindelee.”’

Nomad grunted savagely, and worried at the ropes
binding his hands.

“S’prised?”’ taunted Gindelee.

“Nary, [ ain’t,’ was the trapper’s sarcastic answer.
“We was expectin’ ye, an’ thet’s how ye got ther kibosh
on us so easy. I wisht my hands was loose. I’d put er
hole through ye an’ let out some o’ ther pizen.”’

“Ye say ye would,” retorted Gindelee, “but could ye?
I got a head fer plannin’, I hev. Cody’ll find it out afore
he’s done with me. Pete, you take the ole seed’s hoss
in tow. Jingles, lead the Injun. Ez, you an’ Sim start
ahead. I'll foller along behind.”

The bridles of Hide-rack and Navi were taken in hand
by Pete and Jingles. The other two men took the lead,
and Abe Gindelee dropped behind.

During the onward march, the two prisoners had time
to adjust themselves, in a measure, to the unexpected
situation. , ;

4

They were in the hands of the King Pin gang! How

had the trap been laid? Had the man Nomad and Cayuse
were following discovered the two on his track, and,
somehow, sent a warning to Gindelee?

That was an impossible supposition, The trap had
been laid, and the man from Last Chance had guided
Nomad and Cayuse into it,

But this seemed an equally impossible explanation.

‘How'd this happen, anyways?” cried the disgrunted
old Nomad. “You tinhorn behind, thar. I’m speakin’
ter vou.’ :

“That’s what I reckoned,’ came the cool response
from Gindelee, :

“Waal,” went on Nomad impatiently, “ain’t ye goin’

ter answer?’

‘When I git good an’ ready. Jest now I don’t happen
ter be ready.”

Nomad grunted, and relapsed into silence.

“Whar ye takin’ ug?’ he aroused to inquire, after a
while, when the shadowy procession had turned from the
trail into a seemingly solid wall of bushes and~boulders.

“Ter a place whar we're stoppin’ out the night,” was
the reply.

No ‘one knew the black recesses’ of those wild hills
better than Abe Gindelee, It was this knowledge that
had saved him from capture on a previous occasion,

“Remember how me an’ my boys faded away from
Buffler Bill an’ his pards the time Dudley was captured?”
pursued the King Pin, ns
“I don’t. reckon I'll fergit thet fer a spell,’ said the
trapper.

Bil ok Eo.

“Waal, I’m takin’ ye now ter the place whar us fellers
went then,” and the horses of Si and Ez broke, crashing,
through the dusky wall of brush.

“Single file!” ordered Gindelee.

The procession thinned out, twisted and _ turned
through a passage so narrow that Nomad scraped his

stirrups, and finally bunched up and came to a halt in.

an open space, where a lantern was burning.
{| “Dismount, boys,’ commanded Gindelee, ‘an’ take the
pris’ners down from their hosses.”

CHAPTER VITT:
GINDELEE, THE SCHEMER.

Old Nomad and Cayuse, hauled roughly from their
horses and dropped down on hard rock with their backs
against a clifflike wall, were able to look upward at a
wide, irregular circle of starlight.

The shadows of a steep wall surrounded them, and
arose for twenty feet above their heads, Over the wall
was the patch of sky, with the stars.

“We’re in a sink, Cayuse,” remarked Nomad.

“Ugh,” grunted Cayuse, “‘we all same in bad hole.”

“Thet’s right, too,” ground out Nomad, “but et kain’t
be helped.”

In the light of the lantern men were moving around,
leading away the horses. Presently, when the horses
were gone and only two of the men remained, Abe Ginde-

lee came over to the prisoners and sat down between.

them.

“This here’s the place we come,” said he, “that time
Buffler Bill an’ his pards give us a run fer our lives. We
pushed in here, an’ the scout couldn’t find us. That gives
ye a notion o’ how safe us fellers aire, an’ how secure
we're able ter keep you.” |

“What's et fur?’ demanded Nomad.
want ter know.” .

“Tm goin’ inter that,” laughed Gindelee. ‘I want ye
ter know all about it. It'll be right pleasin® ter me when
Buffler Bilan’ all his pards understand what I’m up ter.
It wag that Dutch pard o’ your’n as tipped my hand that
other"time when ye played hob with my work an cap-
tered Dudley. Ain’t that so?”

“That's so; agreed Nomad.

‘An’ it was the Dutchman as started ye on this fool
chase arter Ez, wasn’t it 2”

“Mebbyso.”

“It was. Thad it all planned, The Dutchman got five
hundred dollars fer what he done in bustin’ up my other
gaine, an’ he’s been gamblin’ with the money. Hagkberry
is in my pay. He tossed dollars with the Dutchman in
the Poker Palace this arternoon, didn’t he? I knéw. Ez
talked with Hackberry in Last Chance, an’ Hackberry
told him all about it. Hackberry’s been waitin’ two days
fer that chance at the Dutchman. He kept workin’ the
Dutchman along to’rds that hole in the floor, waitin’ fer

‘a dollar 0’ his money ter roll through the hole. At last
a dollar done it.”

*“Thet’s what I

“Ye mean ter say thet was put up?” gasped the startled

trapper.
“Shore it was put up. I done the plannin’, Hackberry

knowed the Dutchman ’u’d come back an’ crawl under the
Poker Palace arter that dollar. It was in the natur’ 0’

‘

 

 
SS

 

THE BUFFALO

things that he would. It was only a question o’ when

‘he’d do it, that was all. You lugged the Dutchman away.

Hackberry watched ye from the Palace. By an’ by he
seen the Dutchman sneak back, make a hole in the boards,
an’ crawl in under the Palace. That was Hackberry’s
clue ter drop the fake letter inter the cigar box.”

“Fake letter?” echoed Nomad. “Did ye say fake let-
tek e

Gindelee enjoyed the old trapper’s consternation. It

was pleasant for him to carry such havoc into the camp

of his enemies.

“T don’t know what ye think o’.me ter imagine I’d use
any sich fool way fer exchangin’ correspondence as im-
portant as that ’u’d be, if it was the real thing. If the
Dutchman hadn’t crawled under the Poker Palace, we
had another way we was goin’ ter git that fake letter inter
Buffler Bill’s hands. But this way worked; we wasn’t
noways shore it would, but it did.” :

“Thunder an’ kerry one!” murmured’ Nomad to him-

self, “Alla bloomin’ frame-up, an’ nothin’ to et!” .

“Oh, yes, thar’s a hull lot back o’ it,’ went on Gindelee,

his voice trembling with husky triumph; “thar’s a hull

lot more to it than what ye opine. An’ Buffer Bill won't
know that part unta} it’s too everlastin’ late ter help mat-
ters. fae
“Go on,” growled Nomad. “Tell me the rest o’ et.”
“Waal, I wanted ter sidetrack Buffler Bill an’ pards
fer ter-morrer. Ye see, | wanted ’em ter think me an’

‘my men was workin’ at the ore train. That’u’d hold ’em

while 1 got in my real work on that money that’s goin’

ter the Last Chance bank.” ° .

If Old Nomad was astounded before, he was literally
paralyzed now. Cayuse, who had been following the talk
closely, was in much the same condition.

This cunning schemer, by a play so adroit that it had
even fooled the king of scouts, was planning to keep Buf-
falo Bill and his pards at the south end of the railroad
while the King Pin men worked their will with the treas-
ure train at the other end!

“Got ye goin’ now!” haw-hawed Gindelee. “Hit ye
squar’ in the face with somethin’ ye wasn’t expectin’,
didn’t 1? When.I play sich a game, I don’t leave no
pint unkivered. Why, I went down ter Tickaboo, t’other
day, an’ 1 found out while I was thar jest how worried
Hodges, the general manager, was. He sent fer Pawnee

Bill, an’ he wanted Pawnee Bill ter hev the king 0’ scouts

an’ his pards ride from Tickaboo ter Last Chance, with
that bank monéy. But Buffler an’ his pards won't do it;
the guardin’ is left with Deperty Sher’ff Briggs, an’
some men Briggs is ter furnish Hodges. Hodges has got
confidence in Briggs, Hodges has.” And the schemer
went off into another roar of laughter.

These revelations, made in a spirit of bravado by Gin-
delee, were confusing to the old trapper. His head was
fairly splitting with them.

‘Flesh yer yaup,” cried Nomad, “an’ gi’ me a chanst
ter think over what ye've said an’ git it straightened out,
Ye’ve told me so blame’ much that I’m all bogged down
with et.”

“Neither you ner the Injun kin git away,” said Ginde-
lee, “so don’t waste any time thinkin’ ye kin. Thar’s
jest one narrer path out o’ this sink, an’ one o’ my men'll
watch it all night. Jest ter make the case more bindin’,
I’m goin’ ter hev two more ©. my men set on each side
o’ ye till plumb day. I’m goin’ ter show you fellers what
kind of er juniper I am afore I’m done with ye.”

BELL STORIES. 19

Thereupon Gindelee walked away and lost himself
somewhere beyond the circle of light cast by the lantern.
A moment later three men presented themselves. Two
sat down on the rocks on either side of Cayuse and old
Nomad, and the other, presumbably, went off to guard

_the path.

Neither the trapper nor the little Piute exchanged a
word. oe

They understood not only their own desperate situa-
tion, but likewise the hopeless tangle in which Buffalo
Bill, Pawnee Bill and the baron were involved. While
the scout, the bowie man and the baron were wasting
their time on the ore train, Gindelee and his gang were
plotting to hold up the express car on the passenger
train,

Nomad had a lingering hope that the guards the deputy
sheriff was to furnish Hodges might prove more than a
match for Gindelee and his gang. To that forlorn hope
the old trapper pinned his faith; then, tired nature assert-
ing itself irresistibly, he dropped off to sleep.

He was awakened by the movements of men around
him. He opened his eyes, and found that it was morn-
ing. He tried to move, but his bound limbs were numb,
and seemed to belong to some one else. He glanced over
at Cayuse, and saw that the boy was watching him with
glistening eyes.

An armed man still sat on either side of the prisoners.
Farther around the steep wall of the sink was a cleft
through the solid rock. In this cleft another armed man
was sitting.

Gindelee and two more men were moving around, pre-
paring breakfast.

Suddenly a ring of hoofs was heard in the passage that
led from the sink to the trail. The armed guard jumped
to his feet and faced the other way.

“Who is it, Sim?’ demanded Gindelee, his hand flying
to his hip. ;

“Briggs,”
manner.

“Bully fer Briggs!’ cried the King Pin, dropping his
hand from the gun grip. ‘Tell him ter ride in.”

Sim beckoned to some one in the passage, and stepped
aside to clear the way. A short, thickset man rode into
the sink and drew rein in front of Gindelee.

“Well,” said the newcomer, “here | am, accordin’ to
agreement.”

“Ve're a man o’ yer word, Briggs,” said Gindelee, “an’
that’s what I like ter see. Brung the letter ter Hodges?’

“I’ve got it here,’ and Briggs drew a letter from the
breast of his coat. ‘The letter says that the bearer is the
leader of the five men I’ve selected to guard the money
on to-night’s train. That letter’s all you need, providin’
you men get yourselves up so you won't be recognized
by any one in Tickaboo who happens to know you.”

“Trust us fer that, Briggs,” answered the King Pin.
“We'll walk in on the general manager and hand over
the letter ten minutes before train time. He'll take us
right to the express keer, I reckon. Arter that, we've
got everythin’ in our own hands.” ay

“You ought to have, and that’s a fact,” replied Briggs.

He had the hangdog air of a man who is performing,
against his own better judgment, an act of shame and
dishonor. Nevertheless, he was determined.

“Won't ye ‘light?’ queried Gindelee.
“No, [’m going to hike right back.

replied Sim, suddenly losing his hostile

lf I'm gone too

 
 

“14 THE BUPEALO

long it may show up against me later on.
money and take your letter.”

_Gindelee reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll
of bills, The roll was exchanged for the letter, and
Briggs rode back through the entrance to the passage
counting the bills as he went.

“You be at the general manager’s office ter vouch fer
us, in case it has ter be done!” called Gindelee after
‘Briggs.

“All right,” Briggs answered.

With that he rode out of sight. So quickly had he
come and gone, and so wrapped up was he in the treach-
erous business that claimed his attention, that he had not
seen Cayuse and Nomad at all.

As the old trapper lay back, dazedly working out this
new complication in his mind, he suddenly drew a long
breath and closed his eyes, ©

Briggs, the treacherous deputy sheriff, for a ‘considera-
tion, was recommending to Hodges, general manager: of
the road, the would-be robbers as guards for the bank
money while in transit between Tickaboo and Last
Chance! '

The very audacity of the King Pin almost took the old
trapper’s breath.

Give me the

CHAPTER IX;
CAYUSE ESCAPES.

The hands of the prisoners were not released when
they were given their breakfast. One of the men, sitting
between them, gave first one a mouthful and then the
other.

“Waugh!” grumbled Nomad.
kain’t ontie our hands an’ let us eat ee we was Civ-
ilized?”

Gindelee, who was ; passing at the moment, heard the
remark.

“We ain’t takin’ no chances with you fellers,” said he.
“Ye'd better be glad we didn’t knock ye in the head an’
leave ye in the trail last night, stid o’ growlin’ about the

way we're handin’ out yer chuck.” :
The old trapper, scowling blackly, finished his food

without further remark.

Preparations were going forward for a move of some
sort. Gindelee and four of the gang were shaving, clean-
ing the mud from their boots and rubbing them with oil,
polishing up their spurs and accouterments, and endeay-
oring by every means at their command to make them-
selves more presentable.

There was only one razor, and it passed from hand to
hand. The bottom of a tin pan, scoured with sand until
it was fairly bright, served as a looking-glass. It was
_ set on a ledge of the sink wall, and one after another

* A

“What’s ther reason ye

/
BELL SIORIES.

of the rascally gang placed himself before it, and soon
made a big change in his personal appearance.

During this bustle of preparation, the trapper and the
little Piute had a chance to exchange a few words in

s ee

private.

“Ye onderstand what them pizen varmints hev done,
Cayuse?” whispered the trapper.

“Wuh,” answered the boy.- “Fool um Pa-e-has-ka;
make um Pa-e-has-ka think they steal um ore when they
steal um dinero from treasure train. Ugh!”

Old Nomad muttered fiercely under his breath.

“This hyar is oncet, I reckon,” said he, “when Buffler
an’ pards took the bit in their teeth an’ hiked ther wrong
way. Snarlin’ catermounts, but et Eom me all up jest
ter think o’ what’s bound ter happen, an’ us two not able
ter do a thing.

“Ef you er me, or both o’ us, could git ter Last Chance

afore Buffler, Pawnee an’ ther baron leaves thar, we’

mout put er flea in our pards’ ears—but et ain’t possible.
I’d like mighty well ter know who’ sygoin’ ter pay ther
fiddler fer this hyar dance, an’ how much.”

oe ee me make um getaway, Nomad,” murmured
Cayuse. “Me saw um hand ropes in two on rock, last
sleep. Bymby, mebbyso me make um run, ketch um
pinto, ride to Last Chance, tell um Pa-e-has-ka.”

A fierce joy surged through the old trapper’s face.

“Tf ye kin do thet, son, ye’re a corker!” said he. “Yore
hands aire free, aire they, an’ ye’re holdin’ ’em behind
yer™

Bi. 33

“Keep ’ em thar—don’t let on. Purty soon thar may
be er chanst fer ye ter hike. I’d be tickled plumb ter
death ef ye could git loose, tell Buffler, an’ hev him beat
ther gang at their own game. Now he

“Stop yer chinnin’!” shouted Abe Gindelee from across
the sink, “‘Jingles, ye roll ’em apart, and sit between ’em
an’ see that they don’t do any more palaverin’.”

Jingles carried out his orders, and there was no fur-
ther conversation for Nomad and Cayuse—at least, with
‘each other.

A few minutes later five horses, riding gear all in
place, were led into the sink. Abe Girndelee, and the four
men who had been attending to their personal appearance,
mounted the hor8es and single-filed toward the narrow

 

passage. Gindelee reined up a minute in front of old
Nomad.
“Dye know what we’re goin’ ter-do, Nomad?” ‘he

asked with an evil, psciens grin.
“I got my suspicions,” answered the trapper. ie

' “Us fellers hev been picked as guards fer the bank
money. How’s thet fer a joke, hey? It’s one o’ the fun-
niest things that ever happened in this part o’ the ken-
try, an’ I’m the feller that figered it all out. While Buf-
fler Bill an’ the rest o’ his pards aire tryin’ ter save the
ore train, me an’ my men’ll be takin’ keer o’ the bank

 
st

 

an’ gitaway. Jingles’ll look arter ye,
_ guns.

ter pick with him, an’ I'll pick it, sooner er later.

doin’,
With another of his illtomened laughs, the ‘ae Bin i
-.. erbout. nothin’.

my Injun pard go, so’st we kin kerry ther news ter Buf-
‘seated himself between Nomad and Cayuse

tf ye try any foolishness.”

fer a whack.

| “Ve ain’t got fifteen cents,”
fifteen thousand dollars.”

“THE BUFFAEO

boodle. Thar’s somethin’ pleasant fer & ter think erbout -

durin’ the rest o’ the day an’ ter-night.”
‘Aire we ter stay hyar all day- nee an’ al night

. ter-night ?” demanded Nomad,

“Ve're ter stay right hyar until we inks our cece
He’s got orders, if
ye make him any trouble, ter shoot.
wide o’ the mark, nuther, if ye force him ter use his
My compliments ter Buffler Bill when ye see him
—if ye ever do—an’ tell him he'll hev ter git up in the
mornin’ if he gits ahead o’ my own game. I got a crow
Mind
that! Jest now I’m plenty contented to fool him like I’m
It'll make him grit his teeth, I reckon.”

followed the rest of his men into the passage.
As soon as they were gone, Jingles lighted his pipe and

revolver from his belt, he laid: it down in front of him,
where it would be handy. ae s

“You fellers act decent,’ said Jingles, ‘an’ we ain’t
a-goin’ ter hev no trouble... Thar’ll be fireworks, though,

“Looky hyar, Jingles,’ returned old Nomad, endeay-
oring to attract and hold the man’s attention so Cayuse
could execute his plans. for pee “Td like ter. make a

» dicker with ye,”

“Ye kain’t do it,” answered io. chortty:

“Wouldn’t ye like ter do a leetle honest work fer a
change?”

“Not fer the small change ye’re able ter hand: over.
What ye had in yore pockets hes already been divided
up. We're out fer big pickin’s, this trip. When we turn
the trick, none o’ us’ll hev ter work any more fer a spell.”

“T reckon ye’re plannin’ ter A a hundred thousand by

ter-night's work, hey?”

While Nomad talked, claiming more and more: of Jin-

_ gles’ interest and attention, Little Cayuse, noiselessly and
warily, was pulling his feet in and working at- ay rope

about his ankles with one hand.

“That’s what,” and Jingles smacked his toe.
hundred thousand in cold cash we’re a-goin’ ter git.”

“How much o’ et’ll come ter you? Gindelee’ll take
ther biggest share, an’ then thar’s five more ter come in
If ye git ten thousand dollars ye'll be
lucky.” ie

“Waal, then [ll be lucky—an’ satersfied.”.
_ “S’posin’ I agree ter give ye fifteew sipusand: a

e
Nomad, ashe talked, was able to look around Jingles
and see Cayuse working at the ankle rope with both —

hands, Jf the old trapper lost Jingles’ interest for a sec-
ond ‘now, the little Piute would be discovered, and his
‘design ffustrated.. © 2

-jeered: Jingles, “let alone

An’ he wont go .

“Pullpe a

(it’s ab

BiLcL STORIES. 15

Jingles made as though he would turn around.

“Listen hyar,” cried Nomad. “Ef I make er promise ter
ye, et'll be kerried out. Saber. Ef I tell ye thet yell
git fifteen thousand, ye tl git et. Buffler Bill an’ Pawnee
Bill will stand back o’ any promise thet I make. Ye kin
bank on thet. An’ thet ain’t all!”

The old trapper’s eyes gleamed as they leveled sane
selves on Jingles’ face.

“What more is thar?” demanded Jingles.

“Tll promise thet nothin’ will be done ter ye account
o’ thet Dudley affair, an’ thet ye'll go free from ther law
account 9’ this bizness. Thet’s-a hull lot, ain’t et? Ye’ll
be a free man, Jingles, with fifteen thousand honest dol-
lars in yer jeans. While sheriffs an’ detectives aire hunt-
in’ down. Gindelee an’ the rest, you won’t hev ter worry
An’ all ye got ter do is ter let me an’

fler an’ Pawnee in time ter keep the King Pin from lootin’
thet express keer.”

“Ye paint er pleasin’ pictur’,
talk is cheap.”

“Et ’u’d come out jest as a say, Jingles.” .
~“Nary-it wouldn't. .D’you know how it would come
out?” i

“How?”

“Why, Abe ’u’d hunt me down an’ shoot me ott 0’
hand. If Abe couldn’t do it, then Sim would do the
etrick; an’ if not Sim, then Ez, er Hamp, er Pete. I know
Abe better’n ye do,” :

“But s Pee Buffler Bill oul take arter Gindelee an’

”

returned Jingles, “but

the rest o’ the gang, an’ capter ’°em an’ turn ‘em over ter

the law? They couldn’t bother ye then.”

“Buffler Bill couldn't do it. The job’s too big fer
him. The way Abe’s fooled the king o’ scouts this trip
is proof o’ that. I know what I’m a-sayin’. Thar ain't

-no man alive kin beat Abe Gindelee at his own game.
_ You hesh up now, an’ stop yer jawin’.

I wouldn't let ye

go if ye was ter agree ter give mea million. That's flat.”
“Who's Bannock, the feller thet signed thet note left

in the cigar box?”

- “Ain’t no- sich feller,’ tnighed faeces “That’s jest

another 0’ Abe’s rane capers. All Abe said in that letter

was made up out o’ his own head—railroad mutiny, an’

all, Buffler Bill swallered the bait, hook, line an’ bobber.

An’ that proves ag’ in mie a fine hand at plannin’
Aue te a
“eye. : Ls i

_ Cayuse was free. Old Nomad saw hin get to his knees
and reach out for the revolver in front of Jingles. Jin-
gles glimpsed the brown hand gripping the gun, and was
up with a roar, : a

 

Like lightning Cayuse bounded fhe narrow pa assage

leading to the trail.

Bang!»

 
 

16 THE BUFFALO
A bullet from Jingles’ other gun chipped a splinter of
rock from the wall at the entrance to the passage, but
Little Cayuse bounded on unharmed.
Swearing fiercely, Jingles lurched after him. Old
Nomad, lying back on his numbed limbs, saw the first
ey of hope piercing oe overcast skies.

CHAPTER X.
A SPOKE IN THE WHEEL,

Cayuse’s attempt to secure Jingles’ gun was the move
that had so suddenly apprised the man of what had been
going on behind his back. Had he not reached for the
gun, the boy might possibly have glided into the entrance
to the passage without arousing Jingles. On the other
hand, however, if Jingles had heard him, he could have
picked up the gun and fired—perhaps with fatal effect.
So Little Cayuse snatched the weapon and made off. The
second or two required for Jingles to pull a second gun
from his belt ee the boy to beat the bullet to the
pasHee.

Having been deprived of ho own weapons, the Piute ~

boy was anxious to arm himself with the gun of Jingles’,

He had the gun, and a fair start on his way to freedom. .

While keeping away from the enraged Jingles, Cayuse
must manage somehow to secure his pinto, Navi.

The passage was a rift through the high rocks, and
full of! serpentine twists. The winding nature of the
little defile was an excellent thing for the Piute, since it
prevented Jingles from shooting.

Navi, Cayuse reasoned as he raced through the pas-
sage, must be with the other horses. But where were the
other horses?

With five taken from the horse herd by the departing

desperadoes, there should have been three animals left—
Navi, Hide-rack, and a mount for Jingles.

Cayuse, although he could not see any great distance
ahead of him, felt that he was getting close to the trail.
Suddenly a turn in the passage brought him opposite a
break in the left-hand wall. The break was overgrown
with brush, and the boy’s alert eye showed him that some
of the bush branches were torn and broken. Horses, he
thought, must have passed through that break! Quick
as a flash he scrambled into the opening; then, when
- screened by the bushes, he turned about and waited, re-
volver in hand.

Down the defile he eould feed Jingles, running and
swearing. He came closer and closer, and. finally dashed
around the turn, and was brought into full view.

The boy’s hand gripped hard on the es and he
scarcely breathed as he waited.

Jingles, evidently convinced that Cayuse had pushed on

BILL STORIES.

to the trail, did. not turn into the eee. but-continued
onward.
Heaving a deep breath of eutijacuen, ee dnrtist

the revolver through his girdle and forced’ “his way

through the bushes. At last the tangle of brush gave way,
and a flat acre of forage, watered by a small.creek, came
under the boy’s eyes. The little plateau was entirely sur-
rounded by hills, and where the creek flowed into the pla-
teau, and out of it again, Cayuse could not see. What
he did see were three ae of them Navi—and
they filled his eyes.

--The horses were hobbled, and riding gear lay i in a pile
a few yards away. :

Cayuse knew that Jingles would reach the trail, fail to
find the boy he was looking for, and would then un-
doubtedly- return along the passagé, and come through
the break in the wall.

A combat seemed inevitable. Either Cayuse would en-
counter Jingles there on the plateau, or in the narrow
defile; in one place or the other the encounter must come.

Swiftly as he could, the boy cast the hobbles from
Navi’s front legs, jerked his bridle and riding blanket
from the heap of riding oe and soon had the
pinto ready for the road.

While he worked, a thought came to him. .

If he could get back into the defile before Jingles re-

turned, why could he not go to the sink and free old

Nomad? The two of them could then, if fortune favored,
- make a prisoner of Jingles and lead him into Last Chance,
on his horse.

With this object in mind, the little Piute picked a
riata out of the clutter of horse furniture and dropped
the coil over his head so that it hung from his shoulders.
This accomplished, he turned and leaped to the back of
the pinto.

Scarcely was hic on the calico’s back before the spiteful
crack of a revolver echoed through the length and breadth
of the little platean, The explosion was followed by a
fierce laugh, but the laugh died suddenly in Cayuse’s
ears, He felt as though some one had struck him with a
club on the forehead, and he fell forward.

Instinctively he threw both arms around Navi’s neck,
and thus held his seat on the pinto’s back. A, moment
later his senses cleared. With a fierce effort he ie
ened up.

As through a blur of fog ce saw Jingles running to-

ward him from the break in the wall. Jingles halted, as
Cayuse raised himself, and. fred again. The bullet missed

its target.

- Rallying all his sttenieth. Cee jerked the revolver
from his girdle, steadied it an instant, and then fired.

He was dénied the knowledge of what that shot ac-
complished, if anything. Scarcely had the echoes of it

dinned in his ears when the revolver dropped from his

 

 

 

 

Op Piette ra
 

 

. broken thread of events.

 

3
pe Pen
ee .

THE BUFFALO

nerveless fingers and a black pall shrouded his senses.
Again he grabbed convulsively at Navi’s neck, and: alter
that he:remembered no more.

Cayuse, several hours later, opened his eyes. He “was
lying on his back in the trail to Last Chance, his face
stiff with a clotted flow that had rilled. over. it from his
temples. Dimly he saw Navi’s head above him, and felt
the pinto’s nose against his shoulder. ae

He tried to rise, but hisweakness appalled ink At
last, after several attempts, he gained a sitting posture.
Rubbing his eyes, he looked around him wonderingly.

It was several moments before his brain picked up the
He was on the trail, well along
toward Last Chance. )

passage and along the trail, and just at this point Cayuse’s
arms must have fallen from the pinto’s neck and allowed
him to tumble to the ground.

He spoke an approving word to oe and Noe whin-—

nied in answer.

Cayuse looked up at the sky. The sun was. = past the
zenith and well started down the western. slope of the
heavens.

It was after noon ! ‘After noon, ae Pa- e- ae t ae
have left for Cafion Diablo! But Pawnee Bull, perhaps,
was still in Last Chance. .
the town in time to warn him of what. Gindelee. and his
men had done and were doing.

He tried to get to his feet, but his legs crumpled under
him. He called Nayi closer, 4nd, with hands on the raw-
hide girth that held ‘the riding blanket in place, managed
to pull himself erect.

For a little while he stood there, his brain reeling and

the boulders beside the trail dancing fantastically.

Cayuse had been hurt. The bullet fired by Jingles had

struck his forehead. But Cayuse had not taken the One-

way Trail. He was alive and had the use of his limbs.

And he was not a squaw to fail his pards at such a-

moment.

The riata remained hanging around his neck. Why it
had not fallen off during the ride from the gang’s ren-
dezvous Cayuse did not know, and was too weak even
to hazard a guess. The rope was still there, and_ that
was the main point. If Cayuse could get to Navi's back,
he could tie himself so that he could not fall; apd if his
brain failed him again, Navi would carry him safely to
the town. |

It seemed to the boy as though he were hours strug
gling to get on the pinto’s back. In reality, however, the

lapsing time registered itself in minutes instead-of hours.

Cayuse succeeded finally. Tying himself ae the
pinto’s back was another move that tried fiercely his fail-
ing strength. But he succeeded in that, too, after a fash-
ion, and urged Navi on with a husky cry.

Then, dropping low over Navi’s neck, the little Piute

began to ‘have queer visions, cut through with lucid mo-

@

 

Navi had borne-him out-of the ~

Perhaps Cayuse could reach —

BILL STORIES. a

ments that made his thoughts a bizarre mixture of the
real-and the unreal.
He had launched a bullet at Jingles.

Here ‘entered the boy’s brain a legend which he had
heard among the Kiowas—a legend of ‘the Boy Hero of
the Kiowas and of his foster mother, the squaw, Spider
Woman. Jingles, in the lad’s disordered mind, became
the black spirit, and Cayuse, the son of the sun god, went
against him in battle.

Again was there a * kaleidoscopic shift in the Piute’s
ne

- What would become of old Nomad, left bound and
helpless in the sink? Would Jingles wreak vengeance
upon the helpless trapper for Cayuse’s escape?

A groan of pain tugged at the boy’s lips, but was stifled.

‘He felt warm drops trickling over hiS face, and every
‘movement of Navi; running along the trail, wrenched
him in every bone and sinew.

He thought of Pa-é-has-ka, his beloved Pa-e-has- ka!

, Would his medicine keep him safe from the black designs
‘of the King Pin men?

Cayuse made a feeble effort to get at his medicine
bag. If he could but take out the dried mustang hoof,
and-rub himself with it, he knew the Trues would
strengthen him for the work he had yet to do.

‘But he was powerless to get at the hoof. Failing in
this, he began crooning the warrior’s song of “The Little
Red Ant” who descended the hill with one arrow only.
He crooned the words of the song once, and then every-
thing went from him—even the imaginings of his unbal-
anced fancy.

OO *K ** ** OK * +6

“Waal, by thunder!” cried Pardo, hurrying out of the
hotel to the hitching pole in front. “If here ain’t that
Piute Injun pard o’/the scout’s, I’m a sinner. Kivered
with blood, too, an’ tied ter his hoss with a lariat. Don't
this beat all? Look at him, Hank!”

Hank was the man with whom Pardo had been whiling
away the time at seven-up. He caine forward and gave
a startled look at the pinto, and at the unconscious form
bound to the pinto’s back. —

» “1 reckon he’s cashed in, by the looks,’ remarked Hank,

| “but an Injun, more or less, don’t count anyways.”

“This Injun counts!” answered Pardo. “None o’ his
pards are here, but I’m goin’ ter take him in an’ look
after him. He’s alive, too.
be rough.”

It was after five o’clock in the afternoon. Buffalo Bill
had ridden away for Cafion Diablo at eleven o'clock, and
Pawnee Bill and the baron had left on the ore train about
twenty minutes after the “up” passenger had rolled out
of the Last Chance station.

e

‘That bullet must ~
have found its mark, or Jingles would never have per-
mitted Navi to get away with his unconscious rider.

Now, then, steady, an’ don’t 2

 
   

“18

CHAPTER XI.
THE SCOUT IN THE CANON.

ak is full of mysteries, and this holds as true of the
most commonplace life as of a peril-sown career like that
of the king of scouts.

Had Buffalo Bill been fifteen minutes’ later in passing
that particular place i in the trail which led to Gindelee’s
rendezvous, he would have met Navi, flying out of the
rocks and brush with the unconscious Cayuse on his back.
Had this happened, events to come would have fallen
out far differently. °

Unconscious of what had happened, and of what was
going on, Buffalo Bill continued his rapid pace. By noon
he was in the bottom of the cafion and scouting cautiously
in the direction of the railroad trestle.

He was looking for Nomad and Cayuse as well as for
signs of the King Pin and his men. Of course, he could
not find his pards, and, of course, he could see nothing
of Abe Gindelee and his gang.

His scouting finally brought him directly under the
trestle. Here he saw two wagons. They were standing
in the trail, and the horses had been taken from the
poles. Working out the last detail of his plan with the
utmost cunning, the King Pin had caused those wagons
to be leit where they were as a “blind.”

“There are the wagons,” thought the scout, “ready for
the rich ore when it is thrown from the train and off the
trestle.”

He looked upward and gave vent to a Nok werner
whistle.

So high above him was that frail bridge which spanned
the two walls of the cafion that it looked like some airy
spider web.

“That ore,’ he muttered,
fall,

“T reckon,” he added grimly, “there won’t be much use
of putting it through a crusher by the time it hits the rock
bottom of this gulch, But where are the men who are
to take care of the ore after the mutinous trainmen drop
it from the ore cars?”

“will have a long ways to

He rode up the cafion for a short distance without

finding anything to satisfy his curiosity.

“Tt’s a little after noon,” ruminated the scout, “and the
ore train isn’t due on the trestle until about three o'clock.
— suppose the gang are waiting somewhere, so as not to
get here ahead of the train’s schedule, And wherever
the gang is, it’s‘a cinch that Nomad and Cayyse 2 are ems
low in the same vicinity. 1 wonder
- He broke off abruptly. Returning down the cafion, his
eyes had suddenly alighted upon the rock overhang men-
tioned by Pardo. The scout checked his horse.

“Is there any possibility,” he asked himself, “of the
King Pin men being in that old cliff dwelling? Gindglee
seems to kee all about these hills, and there’s a charice

 

THE BUFFALO

hint of a niche, or of a cliff dwelling tucked away with-

}wall apart at an angle of twenty or thirty degrees,

BILL STORIES.

that he possesses the secret of the cliff house. I'll try
and settle that point now while I have the time.”
A study of the cafion wall, above the overhang, gave no

in it.

“Pardo said the riche was screened by a granite cur-
tain,’ the scout reflected. ‘‘That being the case, I could
hardly expect to see anything of the cliff house from Y
here. I’ll ride in under the overhang,”

The flat, projecting rock at the base of the wall was
of gigantic dimensions. ‘The bed of the cafion beneath
it was flat, and the under surface of the overhang cleared
the scout’s head by several feet as he sat on his horse.

He urged Bear Paw through the gloom toward the
back part of the niche. Some twenty-five feet brought
him to the rear wall, with the same head clearance there
as at the lip of the overhang. Following the wall, the
scout came in due course to a fissure that had torn the

The fissure was just wide enough for him to ‘ride
through, and he came out into one of the most curious
formations he- had ever encountered in: the Western
country.

The fissure, bending to an angle less sharp, passed
upward across ‘the face of the cafion wall, It was.a

 

sunken fissure ; that is, a rim followed it on the side over-

looking the cafion, and this rim was so high that it threw
the bottom of the fissure into gloom. a

“It’s like a goat path,’’! mutter ed thé: scout: | T.ecan't
hear anything up above there that sounds alarming, so
put your best foot foremost, Bear’Paw, and we i see
what's above.” = cae

“A touch of the spur sent the snorting war horse gin-
gerly up the incline. Occasionally there was a slip, but
Bear Paw recovered himself quickly and continued on,
every “muscle tense and straining to the work.

Now and again the scout was able to look upward at
the sky, over. the fissure’s rim, and to ) Judes of his ele-
vation.

  
 
 

He was a hundred feet up, as he believed, when Bear
Paw stepped from the incline to a level shelf.

  
 

The rim of the fissure formed the “granite curtain”
mentioned by Pardo, The mouth of the niche set back
from it for perhaps a dozen feet.

 

\

  
 

The scout turned Bear Paw around so that he was.
facing toward the depths of the niche. The daylight for |
his ‘observations flooded downward between the rim of  — |
the fissure and the cliff wall behind it. It was none too
good, but served for a hasty examination,

  
 
 
 
 

A perfect wall of hewed stone fronted the see “her
wall extended from the bottom of. the niche to the top,
with an opening for a door and another for a-window.

 
 
 

‘The scout, still finding nothing to alarm Bis oe all
around the cliff house,

     
 

 

THE BUFFALO

He discovered that it was enclosed on all four sides—
that the walls of the niche served for neither side wall
nor rear wall, but merely for roof and floor,

Back of the house he saw nothing of the other passage
leading to the'top of the cafion wall.

“Possibly,” he reflected, “I shall have to go inside the
house to find that. I may find something else there;"too,
something I don’t expect.” :

Dismounting at the door opening, he pushed his left
arm through the loop of his bridle reins and, with a re-
volver in his right hand, stepped into the house.

No enemy appeared to dispute his passage, nor was
there any one to be seen.

The house contained but one room, and a glow of day-
light, falling through an opening in the roof, well to the
rear, enabled the scout to make a survey of the interior.

As he moved forward, he stumbled over a stone metat
_-a primitive contrivance for grinding corn. Arriving at
a point directly under the opening in the roof, he discov-
ered that the rear wall had been built out at an angle
into the room, and that the stonework was an extension
of a rift that angled through the heart of the cliff to the
top of it.

“A great place, this!” exclaimed the scout. “There’s
no evidence, so far as I can see, to indicate that any law-
less men have made a rendezvous of the cliff house. Abe
Gindelee knows nothing about the place, that’s sure, or
he would have made use of it. It may come in handy for
Pawnee and me later.”

Still leading Bear Paw, he mounted the masonry in-
cline, passed through the opening in the cliff-house roof,
and started up the bottom of the narrow rift.’ Aiter fil-
teen or twenty feet of the ascent had been covered, he
paused to look back down the steep gash.

“T should think,” he pondered, “that in a heavy rain
that cliff house would be flooded. This rift would carry
water like an eave spout—and it empties into the house.
The-old cliff dwellers, I imagine, were ingenious enough
to invent a way to take care of the water.”

Finishing his-climb, the scout emerged through a rough
granite portal upon the railroad right of way, close to the
point where the trestle pitched off into space. Leaving
Bear Paw behind, he walked out a little way on the
trestle. The structure was heavily planked between the
rails, but walking across it would have been trying for a
man with poor nerves.

After-a time the scout went back to Bear Paw.

“Inside that rift is a good place for me to wait,” ran
his thoughts. “It can’t be long now before the King Pin
and his men show up in the bottom of the cafion. I can
lay low in the rift, and steal out occasionally and keep
track of events in the cafion from the trestle. The hard-
est part of the proceeding will be to effect a meeting with
Nomad and Cayuse. If I could locate them, and get

BIE SlORiis, 19
them into this cliff-dwelling layout with me, we would be
nicely situated for a move agajnst the gang—either above
or below.’

Leading Bear Paw back through the rough portal, th
scout unloosened the saddle cinches and then sat down
and filled and lighted his pipe.

After an hour’s wait, he went warily out on the trestle
and took a look at the bottom of the canon.

There was no sign of the King Pin men.

He returned to the cleft and waited another. hour, after
which he made a second reconnoissance.

Still no sign of the gang. :
A little later, while he was whiling away the time in
the cleft, a singing of the rails informed him that a train

was coming from the south. He looked at his watch.

“Tt’s the passenger train,” he muttered ; “the one that
leaves Last Chance at two o'clock.” a

The train rumbled past, and crossed the trestle at a
slow tate of speed. When it had passed on out of hear-
ing, the perplexed scout took a third look into the bottom
of the cafion. : ,

The King Pin men were not yet in evidence.

“There’s something mighty mysterious about this,”
thought the scout. “Ii they were waiting for the pas-
senger train to get by before showing themselves, they'd
have had plenty of time. I wonder if anything has gone >
crossways with the King Pin’s plans?”

Buffalo Bill continued to wait and watch until the rum:
ble of another train was heard in the south.

“That’s the ore train!” he muttered. “It’s éoming, and
the King Pin gang are not here to carry out their part
of the agreement with the mutinous railroaders. Some-
thing ought to happen now!”

Leaving Bear Paw well back from the outlet of the
cleft, the scout knelt behind a boulder and waited for the
last turn of the wheel in his game.with fate.

CHAPTER XII.
‘K FLASH IN THE PAN.

The train which the scout presently saw coming up.
from the south was hauled by two locomotives. Instantly,
he was reminded of something which had before escaped
him,

The engine which had brought Pawnee Bill from Ticka-
boo had gone on to Lillie to help haul the load of ore cars
to the northern terminus of the line.

The letter left in the cigar box under the Poker Palace
had stated that the engine crew would be in the mutiny
along with the three brakemen. Nothing was said about
an extra engine crew.

Was it possible that the King Pin, who prided himself

 
 

20 : ane THE BUBPALO
; : ®

on thoroughness whenever he undertook a piece of work,

had known nothing about the extra engine? If he had
not, and had not bribed the crew of the extra engine,
then the three brakemen and the men in one of the cabs,
would have three men against them—the conductor and
the crew of the extra engine.

Three against five was by no means Oe es
odds.

The two locomotives churned peacefully along, and the
string of loads bobbed as peacefully in their wake.
Everything connected with that ore train looked as serene
and law-abiding as one could wish for.

The front-end brakeman, sitting on his brake wheel,
was joshing over the tender with the coal heaver on the
first engine. The brakeman in the middle of the train
was lying on some ore Sacks in one of the “gondola” cars,
playing a jew’s-harp. The rear-end brakeman was visit-

' ing amiably with a couple of miners on the front of the
way car. The miners had Winchester rifles across their
knees. The conductor was looking dreamily through a
window of the “lookout,” half asleep and wholly obliy-
ious of any mutiny on the part of his train crew.

The scout saw nothing of Pawnee Bill and the baron.

“Well, great Scott!” exclaimed. the scout, after the
train had rumbled onto the trestle. ‘It looks as though
the big ore train holdup was destined to be a flash in

the pan, after all. I never saw a more congenial lot of
‘men than just sailed past here on that freight. If there’s
going to be a mutiny, it will have to happen pretty quick.”

Leaning over the’ boulder, the scout watched while the
ore train glided across the trestle. It did not stop on the
trestle, but did come to a halt after it had crossed. Paw-
nee Bill and the!baron tumbled out of the rear door of
the way car and off the rear platform. From the cupola
the conductor gave the brakeman the “high sign” to go
ahead, and the train gathered momentum and vanished
on its peaceful way. .

Stepping out on the trestle, the scout waved his hat.
Pawnee Bill and the baron saw him and waved an an-
swering greeting, then hurried back across the trestle.

“What's the matter with our holdup, Pawnee?” de-
manded the scout when his pards had come close to him.
_ The prince of the bowie laughed.

“The King Pin’s schemes have slipped: a cog,” he an-
swered. ‘The arrangements Bannock made with the five
trainmen to mutiny didn’t take in the crew of the extra
engine or the two guards with the Winchesters. Call me
a greaser, necarnis, if | hadn't lost sight of that extra en-
gine myself. I don’t know why I didn’t think about it
when you read a letter Hackberry ee in the cigar
box.

“The baron and I sneaked aboard one of the ore cars
at Last Chance, and just as we thought we had hidden
ourselves completely under two bags of ore, one of the
brakemen looked over a bag, and said we'd be a whole

BILE: SPORIES.

lot more comfortable if we’d go back into the caboose.
We went back, and after I’d sized up the number of men
on the train, I knew there’d be no mutiny and no holdup,”

“It’s funny der vay der ting has turned oudt mit it-
seluf,’” mumbled the puzzled baron.

“Had any of the train crew been approached?’ asked
the scout. y bs

“L didn't ask em, Ban Bill,’ said the bowie man.
“They seemed like such pleasant, agreeable chaps that I
hadn’t the heart to put the thing up to them. Anyhow,
if there was to be any holdup, the crew of one engine,
the two men with the Winchesters, the conductor, the
baron and myself would have had to be put out of the
running long before the trestle was reached. Something
has happened, and the King Pin was forced to gigg back
on the enterprise. But maybe Gindelee and his men are
in the cafion ?”

“T've been looking for them for three hotirs,” said the
scout, “and they’re not anywhere around,”

“Then the whole business was a fiasco! Gindelee dis-
covered, just in time, that an extra engine crew and a

couple of armed guards were to be with the train; and .

called off all proceedings.”

“I don’d like dot,” grunted the baron. “Ven I ged fixed
for a leedle oxcidement, py shinks, I vant it to come
along. »Vere iss Nomat und Cayuse, Puffalo Pill?”

“I haven’t seen them, baron,” said the scout. “I sup-
pose they’re still watching the man who called for that
letter Hackberry left in the cigar box.”

“That man, necarnis,” remarked Pawnee Bill, “must
have joined the rest of the gang. The letter was ad-
dressed to Abe Gindelee, and, naturally, the man who
picked it out of the cigar box would have to find Gindelee
to deliver it. The only good thing that has come out of
this is the line Nomad and Cayuse are sure to get on the
gang. When they report, there’s a chance that we can
come near enough to Gindelee to capture him.”

“‘Here’s Hoping! answered the scout, but not in a tone
at all sanguine. “Look down there, Pawnee,” he added,
stepping to the edge of the trestle and pointing ‘down-
ward. ae

“Wagons!” exclaimed the prince of the bowie.

“Wagons for the ore,” went on the scout. “They’re
out of a job. Some of the gang will probably come after

those wagons, and if we hang around here for a while

we.may be able to catch them at it. More than that,
pard, Nomad and Cayuse are expecting to join us in the
canon. We ought to stick around until we hear from
them.”

“Oof you got somet’ing to eat along mit you, Puffal
Pill,” said-the baron, “TI vill shtick, you bed you, so lone
as der grub holds oudt.”

“There are rations in my war bag,’ the scout answered.
“By the way, necarnis,”

did you leave your horse?’

queried Pawnge Bill, “where

 

 

the
the

 
looking around.

| his. visit.

 

THE “BUPPAEO

“This way,’ and the scout left the end of the trestle
and passed through the rough portal that led to the cleft.
“Deserted Jericho!” exclaimed the prince of the bowie,
“What sort of a place is this, necarnis?”’
“T calkit the waterspout,’ Buffalo Bill laughed. “‘Fol-

| low along down and Ill show you what’s at the bottom.’

With Bear Paw in tow, and with Pawnee Bill and the

| baron sliding along behind, the scout descended into the

old cliff dwelling.
The amazement of his pards” increased as they stood

| in the big stone room and peered about*them.

“Ah, ha, Pard Bill,’ cried the bowie man, his face sud-

| denly clearing, “I get you! This is that old cliff dwell-

ing Pardo was talking about. A rummy old place, and
no mistake. Is there a way down into the cafion?”’

“Keep on following me,” said the scout.

Leading his pards out of the stone house, he descended
to the overhang.

“Dot’s a keveer ting, I bed you,” puffed the baron.
“Und vat a blace for putting some kiboshes on der King”
Pin gang, eh? Oof ve could coax dem in der blace, how

asy couldt ve vind dem oop!”

“I’m thinking,”
a good place for us to hide while we're waiting for some

of the gang to come for the wagons. I don’t believe Abe

Gindelee knows anything about this hole in the wall. It.

he did, he’d have been here and have left some traces of.
We can hang around, and, if we have to, we
can avail ourselves of the advantages the place affords.”

“An-pe-tu-wel’ muttered Pawnee Bill. , “The , place
has advantages, sure enough. If we want to appear in
the bottom of the cafion, we can do so at will; and if we
find it necessary to reach the rim, we can get there un-
seen and under cover. Further, if we have to put up a
fight, three men in the cliff house could hold off an army.”

It was decidetl that.a guard should be posted under the
overhang to watch for King Pin men as well as for
Nomad and Cayuse. The baron, fortified ‘with a link of
bologna sausage and a couple of slices of bread, was se-
lected for the duty. '

Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill then ascended to the
cliff house, They left Bear Paw just inside the fissure

opening, where there wereeinesquite bushes on which he.

could browse.

The queer retreat of the old cliff dwellers was an ob-
ject of interest and curiosity for both the pards, and
i looked over it thoroughly. Along toward evening
they descended to the overhang, tie got out the rest of
the scout’s rations.

The baron had had a quiet watch, and not a person,
friendly or otherwise, had shown up in the cafion.

“How much longer had we better stay here, necarnis?”
the prince: of the bowie inquired when they had finished
their lunch, .

 

observed the scout, “that this will be:

BILE SLORIES. \ Bh
©

“All night, if necessary,” answered the scout. “I don't
want to leave until I find Who comes for those two
wagons. Nor do I want to leave until we get some word
from Nomad and Caytise. Either or, both of them may
arrive in the cafion at any moment, and bring important
information concerning Gindelee.”

“Correct!” agreed Pawnee Bill. “I believe Pll go up-
the cafion and bunk down in one of the wagons. If any
one gets busy with the wagons, I'll be nee where Ie can
take a hand in the game at short notice.”

\. “Good idea, Pawnee!” approved the scout. “We'll

leave the baron here, and I'll go with you... It will be
pretty dark in the bottom of this cafion before long, and
by being in the wagons we may prevent them from get-
ting away from us.’

“Vah, I bed you it vill be tark!” declared the baron.
“How vill T see Nomat und Cayuse ven dey come?”

“You'll hear their horses’ hoofs, baron,” answered the
prince’of the bowie.

“How I vas going to know dose hoofs from der fioofs
oof der Kihg Pin horses, eh?”

“Why, you'll have to investigate before you do much
talking, that’s all.”

Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill left the overhang and

“walked up the cafion, leaving the baron to make himself

as comfortable as he could.

CHAPTER XIII.
CAUGHT ON THE TRESTLE.

The king of scouts climbed into one wagon and the
prince of the bowie into ‘the other. The scout, stretched
out on his back on the rough boards of the wagon box,
lay for a long time looking up at the stars.

The feeling of uneasiness, which had first manifested
itself regarding Hackberry, was still with him. Some-
how events were not moving properly. There was some-
thing wrong, and the scout was sure of it.

He reviewed all that had happened, giving Seinen
attention to each detail, but without being able to put his
finger on any one point that afforded good cause for his

* forebodings.

“T’d give a hundred,” he murmured, “if I knew exactly
what there is about this that’s bothering me.”

And with that his perplexity slipped from him in ‘sleep.

It was morning when he was awakened, a bright, fresh
morning, with the sun rising gloriously over the cafon
rim. Pawnee Bill was calling.

“Here we are, necarnis,’ observed the pees of the
bowie when the scout had got to his feet, “in the same
old wagons. Nobody came to move them last night, and

-T guess they’re here to stay. The King Pin doesn’t want

     

 
   

x
a

22 THR BUFFALO

his wagons, anyhow. Rather than run the chance of cap-.~—

ture by coming after them, he'll leave them alone.”

The scout got down, and he and Pawnee Bill started
wack toward the overhang.

“Are you a heavy sleeper, Pawnee: rte scout asked.

“Not as a rule.”

“Nor: 1, either. Its queer, don't you think, that we
didn’t hear that treasure train cross the trestle last
night ?”

Pawnee Bill’s alarm caught fire on ‘the instant.

“On-she-ma-da!” he exclaimed, giving a_startled jump:
“It should have crossed the trestle about eight-thirty.

g

V’ll take my solemn Alfred, necarmis, I hadn't gone to

sleep at that time.”

“The train may have been late; yet, even if it was, the
fact remains that neither of us was awakened by it, Pil
lay a hundred the train didn’t come through.”

“That means, then, that it met with trouble.’

“Perhaps. Is there a telegraph station nearer than
Last Chance?”

“There’s one at Crockett, the first station north of the
_ cafion, It’s a short mile from here.”

“Tl go to Crockett and wire Tickaboo for news. I
can ride there along the track.”

“That’s me, too. We'll both go. Jumping horn toads!
If anything has happened to that bank money ae we've
been fooling away time with the ore train, ’1I-——

He paused abruptly, removed his hat and ran his fin-
gers excitedly through his long hair; then he took a
cheroot from the crown of his Stetson, and got it to

going.

The baron, snugly bunked with his head on a stone -

pillow, cushioned with his cap, was still sound oes and
snoring. Buffalo Bill awoke him hastily.

“Haf you done somet’ing mit dot King Pin feller?”
demanded the baron, starting up and opening his eyes.

“He didn’t come last night,’ answered the scout;
“neither Gindelee nor our pards got here. What’s more,
baron, Pawnee and I are of the opinion that the train
with the bank money did not cross the trestle. It was
gs to go through at eight-thirty, but nee of us heard

‘Did you?” -

ee ditn’t hear nodding!” gasped the baron, struggling
to his feet and picking up his cap. ‘“Vat’s der answer?”
he asked excitedly. “Has dere peen a wreck?”

“That’s what Pawnee Bill and I are now going to find
out. A mile north of the cafion there’s a telegraph sta-
tion. We're going there. While we’re gone, you stay
up at the end of the tregtle and watch for Nomad and
Cayuse. I can’t understand where they are,, for their
instructions plainly required them to join me here.’

While the scout was talking he was putting the saddle
on Bear Bew and pulling up the cinches. Pawnee Bill
had already started up the incline toward the cliff house.
He was badly aes :

life, pard, get back!

  

BILL STORIES.

In short order all three of the pards clambered up
fissure and rift and reached the railroad track. —

“Vere vill I hang oudt, Puffalo Pill?’ inquired the
baron.

“Anywhere along here, baron,” answered the scout.
“Use your own pb er but keep close watch of the

bottom of the cafion.’

Pawnee Bill was on his way across the rete Buffalo
Bill started after him, leading Bear Paw.

a vouldn't go across dere mit a horse for a t’ousant
tollar!” breathed the baron. “Vat if Bear Paw shouldt
chump ofer? Himmel-blitzen!”

The scout did not take time to answer his Datch pard.

The plank walk between the rails was wide, and the intel-

ligent war horse made little resistance, and showed no:

fright.

Twice in his life Bear Paw had ree the king of
scouts safely over a chasm on a tree trunk, and one of
those times the tree trunk had been set on fire and, was
fiercely blazing.

Pawnee Bill paused and looked back.

“T was forgetting about the horse, necarnis,” he called.

_“How’re you making it?”

“Bear Paw is used to this tight-rope work, ” the scout
replied. “He has a steadier head than I have myself.
When we're over, he'll carry us double to Crockett
and——’

The pards were no more than halfway across the trestle
when a singing of the rails and clatter to the north ap-
prised.them of the aera fact Bie a train was
coming!

“A train!” yelled coe Bill, startled.
train due at this time!’

“It must be a special!” shouted the scout. “Took to
yourself, Pawnee! If we get out of this, we'll have to
hurry.” .

“Get back!” toared the prince of the bowie.

“There’s no

“For your
The train’s right on top of us. Let
Bear Paw go and swing yourself down from the ends of
the ties. Quick!” '

Already the nose of an engine was close to the trestle

approach. Pawnee Bill, as he stepped from the plankd

walk to Fhe narrow. foothold outside the rail, saw? tat

“there was nto train back of the engine, and that the engine

was coming alone at a ripping pace.

Roosting on the ends of ‘the ties, two hundred feet of
space beneath him, the prince of the bowie cast a hasty
look at the scout.

Buffalo Bill had turned Bear Paw around, and was in
the saddle. With a shiver for the scout’s peril rather
than for his own, the bowie man proceeded to a him:
self as safe as circumstances would allow. ~

A man had half his body thrust through a’ =, Fdow

of the engine, and was yelling — and ae
his fist,

 

 

 
 

THE BUFFALO

As Pawnee Bill swung down from the end of the tie,
the roar of the engine drowned the hoofbeats of Buffalo
Bill’s horse,

A great astonishment fed seized hold of the prince of
the bowie, an astonishment that neither the scout’s peril
nor his own could stifle. As he swung over the depths,
while the trestle shook under the racing engine, Pawnee
Bill wondered if his eyes had played him a trick. Was
that man in the window of the engine cab really Abe

Gindelee ?

In less time than it takes to tell of it, the engine had
passed,

Clambering quickly up on the trestle again, the prince
of the bowie leaped to his feet and stared after the loco-
motive,

Five men were ended into the cab, and in the tender,
mixed with the coal, he saw several canvas bags.

But Buffalo Bill had escaped. A gasp of relief tore.

through the bowie man’s lips when he realized that his
pard had safely regained the rim of the cafion.

Yes, Gindelee and his men were in the cab. There
could be no doubt on that score. |

Where had they come from? Where had they secured
the engine? What were they doing there?

These mental questions flashed like lightning through
Pawnee Bill’s brain, Although they covered important
points, it was useless to probe for answers to the ques-
tions then,

The men in the cab had slowed the engine to a halt;
then, reversing, they brought the engine back to the end
of the trestle, a

“Foller me, men!” merepee Abe Gindelee, springing
down from the gangway. ”“ We'll git Buffler Bill! We’ve
got him holed up among the rocks hyer! Come along, i
tell ye! It won’t take more’n half a minute.”

Perhaps the scoundrels felt sure that Pawnee Bill had
been dashed from the trestle to the bottom of the .cafion.
At any rate, they paid no attention to him, but swarmed
out of the cab and followed their leader epee the en-
trance to the cleft.

Unlimbering his revolvers as he ran, Pawnee Bill made
a frantic rush after the men who had vanished soe
the ‘rocks.

Shots were being fired. The echoes reached the prince
of the bowie, and stirred him to yet a faster pace.

The baron appeared from around the end of the loco-
motive as Pawnee Bill, waving his weapons, jumped. from
the traek. :

“Guns are trumps, baron!” yelled Pawnee Bill. Vas

is the King Pin gang, and they’ve closed in on the scout. ‘
We've got to lift the blockade!” .

The prince of the bowie disappeared among the
boulders, Just at that moment there came a stentorian
call from the scout.

BILL STORIES.

23

“Never mind me, Pawnee!
gine! Get away with it!”

The baron hesitated, painfully undecided. Pawnee Bill
did not reappear. |

“He don’d come,. und I ged ayay mit it, py shinks!”
muttered the baron,

With that he climbed ‘into the cab and leaned over the
fireman’s seat.

Get away with that en-

“Vich ting do I pull?” he cried frantically; “vat iss
to.be tone to make'a gedavay : pe
. At random he pulled two or three things. The bell

began to ring, and a sharp blast escaped from the whistle. —

A bareheaded man in a red shirt came staggering out
from among the rocks, His left arm was swinging help-
lessly, but he clutched a six-shooter in his right hand,

‘Get out o’ that!” the man yelled. “Clear, or I'll shoot
ye out o’ the cab!” ,

The baron dropped over on the other side of the cab,
and wildly pushed and pulled. The engine jumped back-
ward and raced off across the trestle again.

The baron wanted to go to Last Chance, but a move in
any diregtion just then was entirely satisfactory. Lean-
ing through a cab window, he shook his fist at the bare-
headed man, then dodged down as bullets began to fly.

: sCHAPTER XIV:
“AN: ASTOUNDING DISCOVERY.

Never before had the spirited Bear Paw stood so loy-
ally by the scout as when the locomotive came rushing
across the trestle. A

The scout had refused to abandon his war horse and
swing downward from the ends of the ties; he *preferred,

rather, to take his chances on the nerve and speed of

Bear Paw.
No touch of the spur was needed. The horse, fright-
ened by the buzz and clatter behind, flung away along the

_ plank walk at a tremendous clip. He jumped clear of the

track to solid ground just as the locomotive swept by.

Gathering up his reins with a quick pull, the king of
scouts brought Bear Paw to a dead stop, then rose in
his stirrups for a swift look after the engine.

He saw that the engine was slowing down, and that
the men in the cab—whom he easily identified—had de-
signs upon his life. He saw also the canvas bags in the
tender, and the first light of a most astounding discovery
flashed through his brain. .

Urging Bear Paw through the rough portal of the rift,
he.spurred him down the descent. The engine roared up
and stopped, and to the scout’s ears came the yell of
Gindelee, urging his men to the attack.

The scout checked Bear Paw’s descent back of a pro-
jecting shoulder of stone. Then he waited. —

   

 
24 THE BUF FALO
Gindelee, leading four ffs, stumbled through the
granite portal. Lead began to spatter around the scout,
cutting holes in his clothes and glancing from his saddle
horn. He answered the volley, and Gindelee’s right arm
dropped, and he staggered against the men behind him.

At that instant Buffalo Bill heard the prince of the
bowie calling on the baron to follow him.

The scout lifted his voice in a demand for Pawnee Bill
to get away with the engine.

This order, ringing in the ears of the wounded. Ciasiee
and his followers, threw them into a panic.
“Back ter the engine!” cried Gindelee.

standin’ thar, gawping like a lot 0’ fools?
lose the loot? Back ter the en ine, I say ! ye
Pawnee Bill, at that precise juncture, rushed in among
the rocks. In his haste he stumbled and measured his
length on inclined ground, and began rolling downward.
When he recovered his feet and looked back, all but one
man had left the cleft. _

With an angry shout, the prince of the: bowie hurled
himself at the man and jerked him backward. ;

The engine could be heard leaping away, outiacross the
trestle. The voice of Abe Gindelee followed it,

“Who’s taken the engine, Pawnee?” demanded ‘the
scout.

Quieting his. prisoner with a heavy blow,.the bowie
man looked out of the cleft, then fell back with a hail
ef lead cutting the air all around him. | 4

“It’s the baron, #ecarnis!” shouted Pawnee Bill.

““Let’s hope for the best, Pawnee,” returned the scout
grimly. “I don’t think the baron knows any more about
an engine than I do, but he’s managed to get the thing
started, and he’s off. Down into the cliff ae pard!
We'll make a stand there.” >

Enraged by the loss of their booty, the Ria. Pin men
were eager for reprisal against the two Bills. The scoun-
drels did not know where the cleft led, and were under
_ the impression that they were driving the pards into a
cul-de-sac of some sort from which escape would be
impossible, =.

The pards safely Heached the sot of the incline, a

tumbled into the stone house.
mounted, led Bear Paw to the farther side of the big
room, and quickly rejoined Pawnee Bill close to the open-
ing in the roof, :
_ “Why did you want some one to run off with the
engine, necarnis?” asked the bowie man. “Those scoun-
drels would have cooked their own goose if they had kept
on with the engine to the end of the line.”

Why, they had the bank money in ane cab with them,
pard,’ ,’ said the scout. ;

Pawnee Bill’s eyes widened;

“I don’t understand ” he began.
“Nor I, Pawnee,” cut in the scout, “but you can make
_ Up your mind that it’s just as I ty you. I’ve a notion |

“Why aire ye
D’ye want ter

. gamble my spurs on it.

There Buffalo Bill dis-

BILL STORIES.

that the King Pin has been fooling us with that plan of
his against the ore*train. All the time he was leading
us to believe he wanted some of a ore, uc Was really
after the money in the express car.’

“Shades of Unk-te-hee!” burst from re prince of the
“That's a dead-centre shot, Pard Bill, and I'll
Why didn’t I think

Right at that moment the progress of events gave the
bowie man other things to think about. Two of the King
Pin men came sliding and scrambling down into the stone
house. Evidently they had lost their footing on the
‘treacherous descent, and had come farther than they had
intended.

One of them was Gindelee. :

The king of scouts flung himself on the leader of the

bowie.

gang and wrenched the revolver out of his right hand.

Pawnee Bill collared the other man before he had recoy-

=éred from the dazed condition that followed His fall.

Flinging the man flat and disarming him, the prince of
the bowie sat down on his chest and looked for more to

come down. from overhead.

““CYar out, you fellers!” yelled Gindelee hoarsely.
“We're nabbed, Sim an’ me! Make a gitaway while ye
got time. The jig’s up!”

Hasty feet could be heard sevamnbling toward the top
of the rift. Neither of the pards could leave, on account
of their pressing engagements with the King Pin and Sim.

A rope from the scout’s saddle was put around Ginde-
lee’s ankles. Further binding at the wrists would have

been brutal, on account of the prisoner’s wounded arm.

Sim was lashed hand and foot by Pawnee Bill, and
presently both pards stood panting between their cap-
tives. Gindelee was fuming. At just the moment when
his carefully executed plans were near fulfillment, for-
tune had changed with bewildering suddenness and
thrown her favors to Buffalo Bill and his pards. ©

“Well, Gindelee,” remarked the scout, “your desire to
wipe me out has led to your own undoing. If you hadn’t
stopped that engine, and made a dead set at me, your
~ lawless career might have continued fdr some little time
vee It the end, however, T and my pards would have
got you.’

“I hate yeh!” cried Gindelee, rabid with anger'‘and the
pain of his wound. “I hate yeh plumb down ter the
ground! But fer yore meddlin’ I’d been fixed fer life.
Kill me! If ye don’t yell wisht ye had!”

- The scout stepped coolly toward him. With a howl of
pain and rage the prisoner drew back.

“Keep away from me, I tell ye!” he whooped. “If ye
come nigh enough I'll light inter ye with my a nails

7 an’ my teeth! I got one good hand yit!”

Fe finished with a torrent of curses.

“You've no more sense or reason than a -mad- dog,”
said the scout when ‘Gindelee’ s fury y had a oe
itself, ere Boe.

 
  

oS US Rh

(yb VM Cv

   

THE BUFFALO

He turned to his pard.
“See what you can do for his injured arm, Fae
he added.

“T’ll do that, yes,”’. answered the Pee of the bowie.
“T couldn’t do less for a wounded cur.’ 4

Gindelee glared at Pawnee Bill, but made no objec-
tion while the sleeve of his shirt was being cut away and
the cloth used as a bandage for the arm.

The scout, meanwlfile, was giving his attention to Sim,
the other prisoner.

“You looted the treasure train, did you?” tie asked.

“No use’n denyin’ it,” scowled Sim. “I reckon ye seen
them bags in the tender.”

“How did you do it?”

“We was the yards as Hodges hired ter stay in the
or keer an’ see the shipment through ter destina-
tion, 7 ;

There was an exultant note in the scoundrel’s voice, as
though he gloried in a deed which had failed a
through an accident of fortune.

“What!” exclaimed the scout.

Sim repeated his words.

_ “T thought a man. named Briggs, a eapity sheriff, was
to recommend a guard for the bank money,” went on the
scout.

“Thats we Briggs done,” grinned Sim.
mended us.’

“Now, by my medicine!” gasped Pawnee Bill, rising
from his work over Gindelee. “I’ve heard a good many
weird and wonderful things in my time, but nothing that
ever equalled this! Briggs, the man in whom Hodges had
so much confidence, was bribed! How did you get the
money, Sim? And what did you do with the rest of the
train?”

“We blew open the express company’s strong box and
got the money,” explained Sim. “As for the rest of it,
we stole the engine and cut loose from the train.”

“That happened last night. Why didn’t you come along
with the engine before?”

“We backed the engine in on that old ore spur near one
of our hangouts. A man was ter be thar with our hosses.
He wasn’t thar, an’ he didn’ t come. When mornin’ came
down on us we got up steam in the ole kettle an’ started
up the line, calculatin’ ter leave the engine nigh a place
whar we got another Pe Then we ketched 1 fel-
lers on the trestle, an’ that kinder stopped our trip.”

“Hist!” said the scout, bending his head to listen.
“There’s some one else coming down the slide. Maybe
it’s——” :

“Hello, thar!” came a hail from above.
ye, Buffler Bill?’

“Friends,” said the puzzled Pawnee Bill; “but who?”
The scout answered the hail, then he Sad ‘the bowie

“He recom-

“Whar aire

man stood with their six- -shooterss ready in case the

“friends” should turn out to be foes.

\

BILL STORIES.

     
   

A man deeded into the chamber.
“Pardo ls exclaimed the pards, in a breath.

“Whoop!” jubilated the hotel man. “Sure, amigos, it’s
Pardo. Come down, men,” he called back through the
roof of the stone house ;“‘here they agre!” |

Three men from Last Chance heeded ‘the call, rapidly
descending the incline until they stood side by side with .
Pardo. : :

CHAPTER XV.
MORE DISCOVERIES.

“Tell me about this!”/exclaimed Pawnee Bill. “How

did you men get here, and why did you come?”

“We got hyer on a hand car belonging ter the railroad
company,” explained Pardo, ‘an’ the reason we come is
bekase of somethin’ told us by Leetle Cayuse.”

“Little Cayuse!” as the scout. “Where did you
see him?”

“He blowed inter Lae Chance along about five O Rlogle

last night, tied ter his pinto an’ with a hole in him that

jest missed hittin’ a vital spot.”

&

“Wounded ?”’
“T reckon ye’d hev called it that, Buffler Bill, if ye could
’a’ seen the Injun when his hoss stopped in front o’ the
hotel! He was out 0’ his wits, an’ we couldn’t figger what
had happened, noways. The doctor fetched him around
along about sunup, an’ when he told us what had hap-
pened ter him an’ ole Nomad, I got tergether two parties.
One hit out fer Cafion Diablo on the hand car, an’ t’other
party jumped hosses and moved at a double-quick fer a
place on the north trail which Cayuse told about. 1 made
a bee line fer the cliff house as soon as we got off’n the
hand car, opinin’ I might find ye hyer. That’s
“What did Cayuse tell you?’ interrupted the scout.
“What happened to him and Nomad?” :
“They run inter a trap, an’ the trap was sprung by
Gindelee an’ Comp’ny. Both of.’em was captered an’ |
taken ter a sink, off ter one side o’ the trail. Gindelee
told his two pris’ners-that the letter in the cigar box was
a bluff, an’ was put thar jest ter throw Buffler Bill an’
pards off the right trail... While you was botherin’ with
the ore train, Gindelee had planned to rob the passenger.
train of the bank money.

“When Cayuse an’ Nomad heerd that they was about
crazy. In the mornin’ they got crazier still when Ginde-
lee an’ four o’ his men rode away ter visit Tickaboo an’
act as gyards fer the bank money. One man was left in
charge of the prisoners, when the King Pin an’ his four,
rode off. Somethin’ had ter be done—an’ Leetle Cayuse
done it. He got loose an’ made a rush fer liberty. The
man oe was guardin’ him turned loose a shot.

 
a Rs ae BURR ALO

“That's what happened ter yer Injun pard, Buffler Bill,
He was all arternoon gittin’ ter Last Chance, an’ when he

got thar he was off the jump, n’ couldn’t be fetched to till -

mornin’. As soon as he begun ter talk I begun ter git
busy, as I said, an’ one party come ter Cafion Diablo, atl’
t’other un went ter find Nomad.”

Following this recital, the scout was silent for a space,

“Will Cayuse pull through, Pardo?” he asked.

“With ground ter spare!’ answered the hotel man.
“He’s tougher’n whalebone. He'll begin chirkin’ up
right off as soon’s he finds out that Pa-e-has-ka ain't
moulted er feather.”

“Did you hear anything about. the down pascengey
from Tickaboo last night?”

“It didn’t arrive. Everybody lost track of it. At mid-
night the conductor reported from Crockett that the train
-had been held up two miles north o’ the old ore spur, the
express safe dynamited, the bank money taken out an’
the thieves gettin’ away on the engine. . Nobody was hurt,
although the express messenger an’ the engine crew was
treated purty rough. The conductor had to walk seven
miles to git to Crockett an’ send his message.

“The sheriff is foolin’, through the hills north of the
old ore spur lookin’ fer the robbers.
out, some time this mornin’, ter pick up the train an’ push
‘it on ter Last > nance an’ Lillie,
ae purty soon.’

“Some one had better go up to the track and flag that

39

train,” suggested Pawnee Bill. “I'll have to ride some-

thing back to Last Chance, and we’ve only one horse. Be-

sides, we have two prisoners to go.” :

“No need o’ flaggin’ the train,’ laughed Pardo.
hand car is on the track, an’ I reckon the passenger train
won't run over it. But you go up, Jake,” he finished,
turning to one of the men. “If the passenger train don’t
happen ae Bee soon, we can all get to Last Chance
on the hand car.’

“T believe,’ spoke up ie scout, “that I'll 36 ie Last
Chance with the rest of you, providing I can get one of
your men, Pardo, to ride the trail with my horse. _ The
quicker I can get to Cast Chance the better I'll like it.

Our Dutch pard, the last we saw of him, was rushing an
engine up the track. He doesn’t know how to run an
engine, and I’m in a hurry to get to a telegraph office and
find out what has Rois of him. He had all that bank
money along.”

“Thunder !” gasped Pardo,
bank money ?” _

“We'll explain later. Which of you men will take my

horse back to town?” an
“Hank’ll do it,” said Be

“Sure,” volunteered Hank readily. “T see the hoss, an’

all you got ter do is ter show me the way out 0’ this hole

-in the rocks. Then I’ll meander.”

While the scout was leading Bear Paw down to the

An engine was sent.

I reckon it ought to be

eure.

a _ laughed the prince of the bowie.
“How'd he get hold of the.

BILL STORIES.

bottom of the cafion, and watching Hank mount and ride
for the trail, Pardo, Pawnee Bill and the other man were
getting the two prisoners up to the railroad track.

Jake had gone, some time before, to flag the passenger
train in case it happened along. As luck would have it,
the three cars, pushed by an engine, crossed..the trestle
while the scout was climbing through the rift.

Gindelee and Sim were being loaded into the combina-
tion mail and express car, when the ‘scout stepped through
the boulders into the right of way, and Pawnee Bill was
explaining matters to the conductor. | .

The scout happened to know that particular conductor.
He was a man who had been inclined to think that most
of the stories that had been floating up and down the
line about the King Pin and his lawlessness were nine-
tenths fake. | : :

When Gindelee came aboard the train, at Tickaboo,
with four of his men to act as guards for the bank

»money, the conductor had not recognized the leader of

the gang. Now, after his night’s experience with a looted

~and abandoned train, the conductot’s views of Gindelee

had undergone a most decided chafge. .

“I wish they could hang the blackguard for what he’s
done!” cried the conductor. “It was the most brazen
piece of work any one ever heard of! The idea of that
crowd acting as guards for a hundred thousand in hard
cash! f could laugh at the joke if I wasn’t so mad over
the way it turned out.”
~ A slender little man hopped down from one of ihe pas-
senger coaches and rushed toward Pawnee Bill with out-
stretched hand.

“Lillie!” he cried. “Say, it does me a power of good
to see you, and to know that the leader of the scoundrels
who played hob with us last night has been caught!”

“Oh, hello, Hodges!” said Pawnee Bill. “Meet my
pard, Buffalo Bill,” he added. — : |

“Tn delighted, Buffalo Bill!”. bubbled Hodges. “I
wish I had words to let you know what a miserable night
I have put in. I didn’t sleep a wink after that treastire
train left Tickaboo, for I was positive there’d be trouble.
I'd have felt easier in my mind if Buffalo Bill and his
pards had been with the confounded boodle, but that tele-

gram from Pawnee shivered my last hope in that re-

spect.” ;
“We were attending to other busiess, a:
“We thought it was

mighty important, at the time, but it turned out to be a

false alatm.” 7
: “False alarm or no,” answered the scout; “but for that,
Pawnee, we shouldn’t have been at Cation Diablo; and
if we hadn’t been here we'd have missed the wind Wo:
“Anepe-tu-twe !
sense, as ‘usual, ne

a PNY. hen Rathburr the conductor bE the treasure train,

wired from Crockett,” proceeded Hodges, whose ‘telief

 

The Long-haired Chief is ie
THE BUFFALO

from worry seemed to have made him garrulous, “I was
completely knocked out. That’s a fact, Pawnee. The
train hadn’t been reported anywhere on the line after
leaving Fitzgerald. It was nearly. four hours late at
Crockett when Rathbun wired about the holdup, and the
stealing of the money and the engine.

“We hag the two engines at Tickaboo that had brought
in the ore train, but they were dead in the roundhouse,
and their crews had to be hunted up. I sent for engi-
neers and firemen, and for the sheriff. It was close to
daylight when the engine was. ready to stagt.. I was
aboard, and the sheriff had been gone for a& couple of
hours with a posse. We picked up the train just where
the infernal scoundrels/had left it. Fortunately there
were only half a dozen passengers aboard, and they were
all men, so there wasn’t any hardships suffered by the
passengers

“It’s queer,” struck in the scout, “that my Dutch pard,
on that runaway locomotive, didn’t run into this train,
Hodges.”

“Your Dutch pard?” echoed Hodges. “Why, bless you,
he’s in the first passenger coach with me. He sprained
his ankle, or he’d be out here. He’s in the car, and the
money’s in the car——” ,

“All aboard!” yelled the condtictor. “We're only
twelve hours late,” he added grimly, “but this outfit of
rolling stock is due to leave Lillie, north bound, at one-
thirty this afternoon.”

“Hoop-a-la!” came a yell from one of the windows of
the train.

The scout, turning his eyes toward that particular
window, saw the baron looking out and waving his cap.

“Coming, pard!” he called, and hurried for the car.

 

 

CHAPTER XVI. f
| A REUNION. .

Everybody explained everything to everybody else dur-
ing the rest of that ride into Last Chance. There were
only six miles to go, but twenty miles an hour was the
. schedtiled rate for fast trains on the T., L. Ci, and S,

and the talking in the first coach was all of the rapid-fire
variety. fe

The scout’s interest centred about the baron, and the
baron’s experiences on the engine. —

The baron, as the scout had surmised, knew nothing
about running a locomotive. He had managed to start
it, after starting about everything else connected with it
first, even emptying the sand box. Once the engine was
started, the baron was in almost as bad a predicament as
he had been before, for he didn’t know how to stop.

He rushed through Crockett at top speed, the agent

BILL. STORIES, 24
dancing like a madman on the platform and tossing his
arms, He yelled something about a “train altéad.”

The baron caught that much, and it almost paralyzed
him. He didn’t want to wreck the engine, or another
train, and he wasn’t anyways anxious to be in such a col-
lision himself, so he began experimenting with the levers
once more, The whistle screeched, the bell clanged, and
a lot of other things happened before the baron, by great
‘good luck, managed to find the right lever for shutting
off the steam. ;

As the engine slowed to a halt, he saw, over the tender,
the end.of a car just poking itself around a crttve. For-
tunately there was a man on the end of the car, and he
pulled a rope and brought the train to a standstill within
a foot of the tender of the baron’s engine.

“TI got afraidt oof a collision,” said the baron, “und J
chumped. Dot’s how it habbened dot I shbrained my
ankle like vat I dit. Peddet a shbrained ankle as a proken
neck, anyvays, und it iss pedder to be a fool for luck dan
everyt’ing else put togedder. I’m alife, der money iss
safed, der King Pin iss gaptured, und so vat’s der odds
aboudt der tifference >”

The crew of the baron’s engine was aboard the train.
They immediately got into the cab, the engine was side-
“tracked on the old ore spur, and the train passed on with
_a clear track ahead. ~

The officials of the bank at Last Chance were about
as much worked up over the robbery as was Hodges.
So far as liability for the shipment went, that lay with the
express company, but there were several mining men im-
patient to draw their pay rolls, and it’s a bad thing for
a bank to refuse payment on a perfectly good check pre-
sented by a valued customer.

The bank men were at the station when the train was
shoved up to the station platform; but they were not the
only ones who had assembled to see the looted train ar-
rive. Nearly the whole town was thronging the plat-
fOr fe. ce

“You can get your mdéney of the express agent, getl-
tlemen,” said Hodges blandly to the president of the
Danie e.

“Have—have you got it?” gasped that amazed official.

“We have, certainly,” answered the G. M. reassur-
ingly.

“But we got word here that the thieves had got away,
with it.” :

“So they did, but Buffalo Bill and his pards were lucky
enotigh to meet the thieves and recover the money.”

“ie if allthere 2”

“Beyond a doubt.”

“Well, we want it, and in a hurry.”

The bank officials, inside of ten minutes, were on the
way to the bank with the canvas bags, and marching
under escort of three armed men.

@
,

Buffalo Bill lost interest in this proceeding, however,

o

 
   

28

when, as he stepped from the car, old Nomad pushed up
to him and grabbed his hand.

“Waugh! Yeh kain’t lose me, Buffler!” the apeer
cried. ‘‘I'was in er tight place, toe afore last, me an’
Leetle Cayuse, but we got out o’ et.”

“Tell me about that, pard,’ said the scout, gripping
Nomad’s hand and then hanging to it as he led him
through the crowd.

"Thar aint, much ter: tell:
“TLeetle Cayuse shore had ther hot end o’ thet ruction,.an’
I’m a heap prouder o’ the kid than I ever was afore. Him
an’ me drapped headfust inter a put-up job, thet’s the
long an’ short o’ et. No trouble was on the pike fer thet
ore train—none whatever. Et was all er scheme ter-——”

“T know about that, Nick,’ interrupted the scout.
“Tell me what happened to you and Cayuse.”

The old trapper went into the recital, bringing it up to
the point where he had seen Cayuse get away.

“T heerd shootin’ arter thet,” he went on, ‘an’ I was
afeared ther kid had been wiped out.-. But he hadn’t.
Bumby Jingles come er crawlin’ back. He had been shot
in the leg, an’ he couldn’t walk. Waugh, but he used

language, thet feller! He was pullin’ himself along with~

his hands an’ draggin’ himself, an’ sw’arin’ what he was
goin’ ter do ter me ter git even fer what Cayuse had done
ter him. But he was too badly hurt to do much in the
hostile line. He was groanin’ somethin’ frightful, and et
was all he could do ter git a bandage around his game pin.
Arter thet he went off inter a faint, er somethin’. Thet
was my cue ter git busy with the ropes.

“I found the place whar Leetle eee had Sawaal his
hand ropes in two on a sharp aidge o’ rock, an’ I sawed
through mine in ther same way.

“When | got loose I went huntin’ fer the hosses.
When I found ’em et was gittin’ erlong to’rds sundown,
an’ I had ter git somethin’ ter eat afore takin’ ther trail
with Jingles. Had ter tie Jingles to his hoss, an’ I had so

much trouble towin’ him erlong ther trail thet I quit |

an’ knocked off fer ther night, layin’ down an’ sleepin’
at the trailside. My hands was thet numb I didn’t: know
whether they berlonged ter me er ter some un else.

They're only now jest ie ter feel what ye mout call.

nacheral.

“With daylight I pushed o on inter Last Chance, an’ met
a party as was comin’ out ter look fer me. An’ thet’s the
hull o’ et, Buffler.”

“You and Cayuse certainly had a hard time,’ com-
mented the scout, “but it all helped, even if indirectly,
toward the finish that has come to Abe Gindelee. How is
Cayuse?”

“Feelin’ better’n whut he did,’ answered ca
he’ll feel better still when he sees you, an’ knows. Gindelee
has been captered, an’ the bank money, recovered. Ther.
bullet ie eo his head—same as a crease.
shock an’ loss 0’ blood an’ the work he made himself do,

THE BUFFALO

Buffler,’ began Nomad.

“Deal,” will be the story in next week’s number.

It was the |

   

BILI: STORIES.

when he wasn’t able, tryin’ ter git hyar and put ye next
ter what Gindelee was doin’. Cayuse'll be all pent in
a week,”

They came to the hotel, and the scout bere upstairs
to his little Piute pard’s room. The boy, his head ban-
daged, was lying in bed with expectant eyes on the door.

His eyes glowed when the scout hastened in.

“Pa-e-has-ka!” he cried joyfully. |

Buffalo Bill stepped to the bedside and took his hand.

“Once more,” said he, “Little Cayuse has proved him-
self a wagrior. We're all proud of you, boy !”

_ That was enough for Cayuse.

veh!” he. granted, “Cayuse acted all same squaw.
King Pin tinhorns git um bank money ?”
“They got it, Cayuse,’ replied the scout, “but we got

it back. Also, we captured the King Pin himself, and

one of his men.
Jingles.”

‘The boy’s eyes danced.

“Heap fine!” he exulted. ‘“Pa-e-has-ka heap big chief
—Cayuse’s chief. You tell um Cayuse, huh?” \.

‘Drawing a chair up beside the bed, the scout sat down
and patiently and fully went into all the details of recent
events. Near the close of the recital, Pawnee Bill came
helping the baron into the room.

“A shbrained ankle don’d vas mooch oof a bicnic,”
said the baron as he was lowered into a chair. “Cayuse,
for a veek, meppy, you und me iss on der rediret lisdt.”

“You caf pass the time, baron,” grinned Pawnee Bill,
“by playing crack-loo.”

“Nod me,” fluttered the baron; “no more oof dot crack-
loo for me. Oof I hatn’t blayed dot, den I vouldn’t haf
foundt dot fake ledder in der- cigar box, und nodding
vouldt haf habbened Vat came our vay. I vas some
suggers, und oof I don’t learn vat I ought to know from
oxberiences, den I vas some suggers all der time—vich I
ain’t, you bed you.”

“I’m almost tempted to give you back what’s left of
your five hundred, baron,” laughed, the scout, “but I

reckon it will be safer to wait a while.”
me

Nomad had already made a prisoner of

THE END.
“Buffalo Bill’s Pawnee Bill’s Stock
And if
you don’t want to miss a corking good wind-up to these
fascinating “Tickaboo and Last Chance” stories, you'd
better ask your news agent to save you a copy of No.
494. Baron Schnitzenhauser starts out for a little pleas-
ure ride on his favorite mule, and—oh, “vat a pitzness”
he gets into. Some of those precious rascals of the old
Gindelee gang get busy again, and call to their aid the
mysterious and dastardly methods employed by the Mex-
icans in their criminal vocations. Incidentally, Buffalo
Bill turns a trick at rough ae that will make vou sit
up and take notice. Don’t miss it.

‘Tratistet + OF,

  
 

Xt
in

|=

THE BUFFALO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NEW YORK, October 22, 1910.

 

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A BOY HERO.

In the year 1862, at the time of the great Indian massacre
in Minnesota, there lived, some twenty miles from New
Ulm, a farmet by the name of Henry Meeker.

His family consisted of himself, his wife, and two chil-
dren—a boy and girl.

The boy was thirteen years of age, and was named Joseph.
His sister Mary was two years his junior.

They had been living in comparative safety for nearly
two years, and were on friendly terms with the Indians, who
frequently called at the dwelling of the Meckers, and were
always kindly received.

Early on the morning of August 2oth, 1862, three In-
dians, who were known to the family, c called and asked for
something to eat, and while Mrs. Meeker was procuring
it for them they requested her husband to get down his
rifle and go a short distance from the dwelling and see which
one was the best marksman.

He did not altogether like the idea, and in a polite way
refused.

They then became angry, and asked if he thought they
were going to hurt him. ©

Not caring to irritate them, or give them any cause to
make a disturbance, he consented to go with them.

All four then proceeded to a grove, some little distance
from the house, when they stopped, and one of the Indians
pointed out as the target a leaf that was on the extreme edge
of a limb of a tree about twenty yards from where they
stood.

Henry Meeker was then told to fire ist and see if he
could hit it,

He took aim and fired, and as he did so one of the Indians
shot him in the back, and he fell over dead.

_ They then returned to the dwelling and informed Mrs.
Meeker that her husband had shot himself.

She started to go to her husband, but as she was crossing.
the threshold of the door one of the Indians split her head

open with his tomahawk, and she fell dead at his feet.
Little Mary was then’ killed by another of the Indians.
They then looked for Joseph, but he was nowhere to be

found, though present when they first came.

The Indians now ransacked the house, and took away
with them all they considered ©f any value.

After his father went out with the Indians young Joseph
started to follow them, and had nearly reached the grove
when he saw his father killed.

BILL STORIES. : | 29

At this the horrified boy turned and ran toward the house,
but on his way he stumbled and fell near some bushes.

As he glanced back he saw the Indians returning, and
immediately crept into the bushes, and concealed himself.

From here he saw his mother brained, heard the cry
of his sister, and afterward discovered that she had been
murdered also.

Joseph remained in his hiding ae until some time after
the Indians had gone, and then he fell upon his knees and
prayed to God to protect and watch over him.

Then he got up and proceeded to dig a grave near where
his father had fallen.

To this grave the poor boy drew his dead parents and
sister, and covered them over from human sight, weeping
bitter tears of anguish,  - t

Then he took his late father’s rifle and ammunition, and
sadly left the place that had been a happy home to him.

After a lonesome and tiresome journey of several miles
he reached the dwelling of a neighbor, where he found the
head of the family lying on the ground dead, and the house

/deserted.

As he had forgotten to take any food with him, and was
by this time quite hungry, he entered the house, and found
three potatoes, which he ate, and a little corn meal, which
he took away with him.

He then set off again, this time intending to reach Man-
kato, which he thought would be the most likely place to
meet with some friends, for he now rightly concluded that
there had been a general uprising of the Indians.

He traveled for nearly three hours without seeing a living
being, and then wondered if he was on the right course, or
whether. he had taken the wrong direction. 5

Then he stopped at a stream of water, to quench his thirst,
rest, and reflect.

He had been there some considerable time, lost in a pain-—
ful reverie, thinking of his forlorn condition—an orphan,
homeless, friendless, and alone in the world—and wondering
what awful doom might yet be his, when he was aroused and
startled by hearing sounds as of the approach of human
beings.

Not knowing whether these were friends or foes, he
immediately crept into some tall grass, stretched himself out
flat on the ground, and listened in breathless silence.

As the parties drew near he saw there were two men, two
boys, three women, and one little girl, all white.

He started toward them, and the men, as soon as they
saw him, raised their guns as if to shoot. ©
Oe God’s sake, don’t murder me!” he called to them.

“Come here, my boy,” said one of the men, as both
quickly lowered their pieces; “you shall not be harmed. We
were startled at first, before we saw clearly, and mistook
you for an Indian,”

Little Joseph joined the group, and related his tragic tale.

The men informed him that they were brothers, and that
while. working on their farm some distance from their house,
the Indians had come, murdered the whole household, set
fire to the building, and had then disappeared.

Seeing the fire, the brothers had hastened home, found

_all the inmates dead, and the fire so far progressed that it
was impossible to check it.

They had then started off, and shortly after had fallen in

with three women and children, who had escaped from the

Indians after having suffered the loss of their husbands and
fathers.

They all now continued on their journey toward Manta,

young Joseph Meeker finding he had heretofore been travel- —
ing in the wrong ,direction. as

They had not proceeded very far when they were ap=< © 7

prised of Indians being near, and decided that they had better
conceal themselves in the most available place they could
find; if discovered, to protect themselves as best they could.

While: attempting to carry out this purpose they were,

 
 

 

   

30 THE BUFFALO

suddenly surrounded, by a large body of savages, who ap-
peared to be drunk, and were very noisy.

One of them told the whites, in broken English, that if
they would keep perfectly quiet and not attempt to escape,
they would suffer no violence at their hands.

He had hardly finished speaking when one of his com-
panions caught hold of one of the women in such a rough
manner as to cause her to cry out with pain.

At this the savage raised his tomahawk and struck her a
violent blow on the head, repeated it, and killed her on the
spot.

This seemed to be a signal for the others, and a peucrel
massacre ensued.

As one of the Indians made a leap toward little Todent
the heroic lad raised his gun, shot him through the heart,
and then, with great presence of mind, threw himself flat
down by his side, as if he had been killed also.

Something now seemed to alarm the Indians, for they
all made off in haste, not even waiting to plunder their vic-
tims.

During the remainder of that eventful day, which was
now drawing to a close, young Joseph Meeker lay as still
as death, in the same position as he had fallen.

About dusk, not having heard anything to alarm him for
some time, he ventured to get up and look about him.-

A terrible and revolting sight met his view.

Stretched upon the ground all around him lay the bloody
remains of his companions, and also of two Indians, one of
whom he had killed himself.

As it was now growing too dark for him to venture far-
ther that night, for fear of missing his way, he drew back
into some bushes and’sat down, almost wishing he had been
killed with the rest and relieved of his miseries.

While sitting there, reflecting on the strange fact that he
should have been spared on two occasions when all with
him had been killed, he fancied he heard some one groan,
and after listening attentively some little time he heard it
again.

He then went back to see if any one was alive, and if so

to do what he could to help him or her.

When he got back among the dead all was quiet, and
not a sound could be heard.

Could he have been mistaken? Was it seusination

caused by the terrible strain he had passed through? He

felt sure he had heard some one groan, and yet everything
now was perfectly still.

He was about to retrace his steps when he was again
startled by the same peculiar sound.

He now decided to examine each one, and convince him-
self that there was no one still alive.

The first person he came to was the man who had first
spoken to him.

He placed his hand on his face to see if it was cold,
and found it still warm, and that blood was poe from a
wound in his side.

While he was still examining the man, a still inde:
cided whether he was dead or alive, he was again startled
by a low moan, which he was certain proceeded from the
man’s lips.

Being thus satisfied that there was still life in ihe man,
our little hero at once set to work to stop the flow of blood
‘as best he could.

He had just succeeded in securing a bandage over the
wound when the poor sufferer with another and heavier
moan, opened his lips, and saintly articulated :

“Water ! water !”

“In a minute, sir,” said little Joseph, as he bounded away
to a brook near by, filled his hat, and then hurried back
with it, losing a little more than half by leakage, but leaving
enough to give the famishing stranger a reviving draft.

“God bless you, lad! this brings me new life!” exclaimed
the man, in a grateful tone. “Who are your”

cenere

 

BILL. STORIES.

 

“I’m Joseph Meeker, sir—the boy that ee your party
before the Indians came and murdered all.”

“How did you escape?”

“I shot the Indian that was going to kill me, and then
threw myself down beside him, and pretended to be dead.
I lay still there till a little while ago, when I got up and
went into the bushes. There I heard you moan, sir, and
came to you.”

“You are a brave, noble boy!” said the man, lifting him-

‘self up on his hands, and glancing around as well as he could

for the gathering darkness.

“Oh, this is terrible! terrible!” he added “All killed
but you and me, and I, perhaps, mortally wounded. Can
you help me into the bushes, so that. the next party of sav-
ages will not be likely to see me, and then get me some
more water before you go?”

“I’m not going, sir, while you live,” returned Joseph, as
he proceeded to assist the wounded man to a place of con-
cealment. “‘l’ll stay with you, sir, and do all 1 can for you.”

“And again I say, God bless you!” rejoined the man, but
rather feebly; and soon afterward he fainted dead away,
and the poor boy thought he was dead in reality.

-He did not leave-him, however, and an hour or so after-
ward the’man again revived.

Joseph brought him more water, and continued to do all

“he could for him through the night.

Early in the morning Joseph heard a tramping sound, and,
to his great joy, beheld a party of soldiers on their way to
Mankato.

They stopped, buried the dead, and took the eounded man
with them on a litter, little Joseph going along, and thus
was the poor boy saved.

Eventually the wounded man, whose name was Nathan
Paxon, entirely recovered, and then he sought out our boy
hero, adopted him, and made him heir to a large property,
so that virtue and heroism in his case received a deserving
reward in the end.

Joseph Meeker of that day is no longer a boy at this day,
but a strong, stalwart, influential man, who already holds a
high political position, and whose eloquent voice. may be
heard in the great council halls of the nation.

AMONG THE FIREWORKS.

Davy and I were friends. I loved him as if he had been a

brother, and he loved me. His eyes were as brown and soft

as any woman’s, and his mouth as kissable. I used to won-
der if he had a sister who looked like him, for if so.I should
have liked to have known her; but he told me he had neither
brother nor sister in all the world.

He was a little fellow, too, with no great strength in him,
but good enough at anything that took brains, to make up
for it bravely.

Some of the fellows at our place made fun as him, and
called him “Missy,” and that was how I came first to be

- acquainted with him, taking his part.

A nice, nice boy, I used to say;.and I called him “Davy”
from the very’ first.

How modest he was, and how quiet; half afraid of the
other fellows, and fond of getting by himself.

He had a little room somewhere, but he never asked even |

me to go there. I took it hard at first, but it was a way he
had, nothing more.

Sometimes I thought he had a very poor place, and. was
ashamed of it.

We were in a firework poe: did I tell you that? It’s a

nice, lively business. You know that any minute a careless ©

idiot may send the whole establishment aloft, like a sky-
rocket.

I never left the place &t night without thanking Heaven
inwardly at least for my day’s safety. It was more OF a
chance or a Providence than if I'd been an seeds on a
railway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 

   
EB ivernorctias

-in-to.purchase fireworks. 8
-thines—that. was one of my duties—and after he had given

THE BUFFALO

Davy did delicate work, and did it well, too. He was
careful, and anxious to please. He made high wages, but
his only luxury was a book. How he used to read them as
children eat sweetmeats. It was good to-see him.

Sometimes he read to me, and he coaxed me into going
to church with him. That I felt safer among the skyrockets
and gunpowder after that, I don’t deny.

He did me good in all ways, real good. I was better for
having known him, much better, and I told him so often. I
didn’t mind praising Davy to his face. You see, I used to
drink a little, like the rest, at first, but after he talked to me
about it, 1 left it off. I didn't chew, either. It seemed
strange to myself that I should care so much for what that
pretty boy thought, but I did.

The women all liked him, and never passed without a
word or a nod, and that, I used to say, was a good sign for
him.

For two years we worked together. Fourth of July was
now coming, and we were busy at all sorts of magnificent
show pieces, when there came a letter to me from my aunt,
a nice old woman, who lived on Long Island.

“Robert,” said she, “come to us for the Fourth. You've
a holiday, then, like all the rest of us, and as it comes a’
Saturday, why, we'll have you over Sunday. Bring your. lit-
tle friend that you speak so well of with you, if you hike;
he'll have as hearty a welcome as I can give him.”

So I showed the letter to Davy.

“My boy,” says I, “it’s among green trees and beside blue
waters. It’s a happy place to be of a hot summer day. Yow ll
come?”

“T should like it,” said-he.

“Tt’s no fine place,” said I; “one room for the old folks
downstairs, and a big garret, which Jack and Jim, and you
and I will shate. Jolly boys they are; you'll like ’em;. but
it’s a home, poor as it is, and they have a table that would
scare city boarding-house keepers into fits, and it’s clean and
trim, for aunt sees to that. You'll come?”

But Davy was shaking his head.

Ol Cad ty eK ie:

“You'll be welcome,” said I.

“T don’t doubt it,” said he.

“Then why not come?” said I.

“T can’t,’ was all he said.

A thought came into my head.

“Perhaps we are too common for you,” said I.
so, out and ott.” !

“Oh, Rob!” said he—‘“‘oh, Rob, don't! Please don’t, Rob!”

“You'll come?” said I.

“T can’t, 1 can’t,” said he.

So 1 walked away from him, angry—yes, angry with him.

I never spoke to him for two days. 1 passed him without
a look. I made sure-he was proud, for you see he was better
educated and more delicate in his ways than J. The very
day before the Fourth I saw him with his head hidden in
his. arms, the picture of despair, and my heart smote me.
But I was angry, still. :

“Tf he comes to me, and gives. me a good reason for his
refusal, ’ll shake hands again,” thought I; “not other-
wise.”

But he did not come.

So when we were being paid off in the noon hour, I
looked another way when he looked at me, and went to my
work in a hurry. ane
I felt as if I had: lost half my life, but I kept it up- Isn't
it strange how we Cat keep quarrels up against our better
nature? A moment was coming when I’d have given my
life not to have quarreled with Davy, but I did not guess how
neat it was. :

-It:came at five that afternoon. A gentleman ‘had been
.to..purchase I had been showing him some

“Then say

his order and. gone away, | found his glove upon the floor.

BILL STORIES. 31
I picked it up and went to the door. He was quite a dis-
tance off already, and 1 ran after him. It took me two min-
utes to reach him.

In those two minutes it came. A crash—a roar—a sound
like an earthquake—and I was flung down upon my face
with the shock.

1 knew what had happened—the fireworks factory, was
blown up.

In a minute I staggered to my feet, and the man, who
had just taken his glove from me, rose up, too.

We stared at each other like madmen.

“Oh, my God!” said he.

“Oh, my God!” said I. It wasn’t swearing. We didn’t
say it that way. We didn’t mean it that way.

Then I screamed out:

‘Davy, Davy! my deat old Davy!’ and ran foward tlie
building—the ruins that had been the building, I mean.

1 saw horrible sights; mangled bodies and severed limbs.
Through them, and through the flames, I went screaming
for Davy. Gunpowder smoke was thick about me; things
were crashing and blazing still, lights, blue, and red, and
green mixed together. Some men, alive yet and unharmed,
were struggling for their senses. Others, burned and
wounded, were crawling away.

I cared for none of them as I cared for Davy. At last,
where a great beam had fallen, I heard a groan, and under
it, the weight broken by rubbish, thank God! I found Davy.
It was hard work getting him out, but I didn’t care, and I
carried him on my bosom to the pump, and wet his face and
hair, He came back to life again. ;

He lay in my arms, weak and pale, but alive, and, I be-
lieved, not dying.

“Davy,” said 1; “old Davy.”

Then he said:

“Dear, dear Robert! Oh, thank Heaven, you are alive!”

Said I, “Are you hurt much, Davy?”

“My arm is broken, I think,” said he; “but I am not as bad
as I might be otherwise. I was on the ground floor, and
Heaven kept the great beam above me. Iad*a fallvand @
brick broke my arm, but the smells and sights made me
faint.”’

Oh, how I cried then, like a woman, and I kissed Davy.

“I'll take you to the doctor’s, my boy,” said I; “and Vil
nurse you well again.”

Then I saw the face grow scarlet, and the small white
right hand caught my wrist.

“Oh, Robert Rush,” said the voice Pve always thought so
sweet. “You aré good—you will hide it from the rest, and
not let them insult me. Oh, you'll be kind and pitiful, I
know, fot the sake of your dead mother.”

And then I knew, all in an instant, that it was a woman
into whose eyes I looked—a young and beautiful woman.

“Tt had no friends,” she said; “only a childish grandmother
in the country, to work for, and they pay women so little, and
because L was neither old nor hideous they made life a bur-
den to me. I must live alone and work alone, and ‘be in-
sulted and starve, and so I thought no one need ever know,
and | have worked here as a man. Hide it from the rest;
T blush with shame, but you are good; try to hide it, Robert.”

And I put my lips to her hand, and said:

“My heart should have told me this sooner. If you can
like Robert Rush well enough to be his wife you shall never
be lonely in this world again.”

She never has been. Her health and beauty were fe-
stored; if they had not been, 1 would have loved her and
cherished her, Heaven knows, but they were restored, and
she married me before the winter came.

When any who knew Davy see my wife, remembering him -
as one never found amid the ruins of the factory, they are
apt to say: 4 ee

“Tow like she is to him!”

And T say:

“No wonder. She is all the sister Davy ever had.”

 
  

   

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336—Buffalo
337—Buffalo
338—Buffalo
339—Buffalo
340—Buffalo
341—Buffalo
342— Buffalo
343—Bnuffalo
344—Buffalo
345—Buffalo
346—Buffalo
348—Buffalo
349—Buffalo
350—Buftalo
351—Buffalo
352—Buffalo
354—Buffalo
355—Buffalo
356—Buffalo
357—Buffalo
358—Buffalo
359—Buffalo
360—Buffalo
362— Buffalo
363—Buffalo
364—_Buffalo

Bills Wwost eQuarnyig. eee 5
Bill-onvas Longs Aunts. 5
Bill and che Redskin Wizard 5
Bill’s Bold Challenge....... 5
Bill’s Shawnee Stampede.... 5
Bill’ ‘on..a° Desert: Trails: 2+:
Bill in Tight Quarters...... 5
Bill and the Bandits in Black
Bill in the Canyon of Death.
Bills’ Dusky Trailers. .......
Bill’s Diamond Mine........ 5
Bill and the Pawnee Serpent
Bill’s Searlet Hand 5
Bill’s Daring Plunge........
Bilis’ Ghost Raiden.) ss 0
Bill Up VAStum pr esc Sooke
Bill’s') Master-stroke.

Bill and the Brazos Terror.
Bill’s Dance of Death

Bill’s Medicine-lodge........ 5
IBTimes a ee aos 5
Bulls Black: Wagiles ...5.\.55 6%
Bill’s Desperate Dozen.

Bill and the Barge Bandits.
Bill, the Desert’ Hotspur. .

Bills Whirlwind Chase..... 5
Bill’s Red Retribution...... 5
Bill’s Death Jump 5
Bill in the Jaws of Death....
Bill’s Aztec Runners...... 5
Bill’s Dance with Death.....
Bill’s Mazeppa Ride........ 3
Bill’s Gypsy Band...........
Bill’s
Bolin. Old «Mexico: 32.5 5
Bill’s Message from the Dead
Bill and the Wolf-master....
Bill’s Flying Wonder....... 5
Bills: “Hidden: Gold... sia 5
Bills: Outlaw. “Grail... 2.
Bill and the Indian Queen...
Bill and the Mad Marauder. .
Bill’s Iee Barricade.

Bill and the Robber Elk.....
Bill’s Ghost Dance.........
Bilktss  -Beace-pipe coe io aes
Bill’s Red Nemesis.........
Bill’s Enchanted Mesa......
Bill in the Desert of Death..
Bill's Bay. Streaks. ie Psy
Bill on Detached Duty......
Bill’s Arm Mystery........ :
Bill’s Surprise Party.......
Bills Great Ridewr. cnc...

Bill’s

Bill’s Ordeal of Fire.
Bill’s Casket of Pearls.
Bill’s
Bill’s san
Bill’s Flat-boat Drift.......
Bill on Deck

Bill and the Bronco Buster. .
Bill’s Great Round-up......
Bilks) GRled sees si ee.
Bill’s Cowboy

Bill and the Emigrants......
Bill Among the Pueblos.....
Bil’s our-footed Pards....
SHES Protege i225. cic eee ce
SUMS: PICKEU YD eh. 6 55 cos els eon
Pld s OUCSE oe ei ee eee .
Bill’s Waif of the Plains.... 5

Gold Hunters. :. 22.2 22 5

 

366—Buffalo
367—Buffalo
368—Buffalo
369—Buffalo
370—Buffalo
371—Buffalo
372—Buffalo
374—Buffalo
375—Buffalo
377—Butfialo
378—Buffalo
379—Buffalo
380—Buffalo
381—Buffalo
382— Buffalo

384—Buffalo
385—-Buffalo
386—Buffalo
387—Butffalo
388—Buffalo

390— Buffalo
391—Buffalo
392—Buffalo
393—Buffalo
394— Buffalo
395—-Buffalo
396— Buffalo
397—Buffalo
398—Ruffalo
399— Buffalo
400—LBuffalo
401—Buffalo
402—-Buffalo
403—Buffalo
404—Bi ffalo
405 alo
406—Ruffalo
407—Buffalo
408—Buffalo
409—Buffalo
410—Bnffalo
411—-Buffalo
412—Buffalo

414—Buffalo
415—Buffalo
416—Buffalo
417—Buffalo
418—-Buffalo
419—Buffalo
421—-Buffalo
422Buffalo
423—Buffalo

41 424-—_Buffalo

425—Buffalo
426—Buffalo
427—Buffalo
428—Bnffalo
429—Buffalo
430—Buffalo
431—Buffalo

Bill Among the Mormons.... 5

SUNS" SA SSISTANCOM egos oslo 5

Bill’s Rattlesnake Trail.....
Bill and the Slave-Dealers...
BillseStronesArl.. . oases.
BilVsnGiehs Pardee. Oe
Bill’s. Tron Bracelets........
Bill’s Jade; Amulet... 2...
Bill’s Magic Lariat. .s......
Bill's Bridge of Hire.:......
PME eR OWC Ra Wirsisie ecole olle)e, o>
BUMS Cole ay, -Streai 2 .c:.:0)6ess08s 0
Hs INI G eee chat cece odes ies
Bill’s Clean-up.....

ese ER ULSO 200s o5.0:' 6! 6 Seto ieee. Ss
Ul OVETDOATG =... siccie 6 ioe ene
PUES ee Oe Sas ch clans cee ie (6 ©
Billie: hie Contract). 0's...
Bill and Caiamity Jane.....
PSS eles PATO es 6. See Pees
Bill’’s Desperate Plight......
Bill’s Fearless Stand.......
Bill and the Yelping Crew...
Bill’s Guiding Hand........
Bills? Oneer: Quest: a5...
Bill’s Prize “Getaway”

Bill’s Hurricane Hustle.....
Bills: «Star oPlaye acne ieee
Bills: -Blufhas svg cee ete
Bill’s
Bil’s “Dutch: Pard:. 3a
Billzand: the Bravo. 3.2
Bill and the Quaker....32..

MP rackersy eae cies tales an ;

Bill’s Package of Death..... i

Bill’s Treasure Cache.......

BAS ePrivate Ware anv E
cosa } 467—Buffalo

Bill and the Trouble Hunter
Bill and the Rope Wizard..

WBNS HMC SEA oe akc etelgs oo’ :

Bill Among the Cheyennes..
Bill sBesite ged ing soc sons hese

Bill and the Red Hand...... Ki
Bills “Pree-trunk Drift...... i
Bill-and the Specter........ Ei

Bill and the Red Feathers.
Bill’s
Bill, the Desert Cyclone.....

King Stroke..... Be eo

Bill’s Cumbres Scouts....... §

Bill and the Man-wolf......
Bill and His Winged Pard..

Bill at Babylon Bar........ 5

Bills Won es MAT ee ee eae
Bill’s Steel Arm Pard......
Bil’s Aztec’ Guide.....0...
Billtand: ‘hittle Wirefly,....... .

Bill ing the Aztec City. : 6.7... cj

Bill’s Balloon Escape.......
Bill and the Guerrillas......
Bill’s Border War..... bi foe
Bill’s Mexican Mix-up.......
Bill and the Gamecock.....
Bill and the Cheyenne Raiders
Bill’s Whirlwind Finish.....

5

5
5
5

 

432—Buffalo
433—Buffalo
434—Buffalo
435—Buffalo
436—Buffalo
437—Buffalo
438—Butffalo
439— Buffalo
440—Buftalo
441—Buffalo
442—Buffalo
443—Buiffalo
444—Buffalo
445—Buffalo
446—Buffalo
447—Buffalo
448— Buffalo
449— Buffalo
450—Buffalo
451—-Buffalo

45 2—Buffalo
453—Buffalo
454—Buffalo

456—Buffalo
457—Buffalo
458—Buffalo
459—Butffalo
460—Buffalo
461—Buftfalo
462—Buffalo
463— Buffalo
464—Buffalo
465—Buffalo
466—Buftalo

468—Buffalo
469—Buffalo
470—Buffalo
471—Buffalo
472—Buffalo
473—Buftalo
474—Buffalo
475—Buffalo
476—Buffalo
477—Buffalo
478— Buffalo
479—Buffalo
480—Buffalo
481—-Buffalo
482—Buffalo
483—-Buffalo
484-—_Buffalo
485—Buffalo
486—Buffalo
487—Buffalo
488—Buffalo
489— Buffalo
490—Buffalo
491—Buffalo
492—Buffalo
493— Buffalo

Bill’s Santa Fe Secret......

These stories have been read exclusively in this

In no manner can you iecome so thoroughly acquainted with

Bill and the: Taos Terror... . £

Bill's Bracelet of Gold......

Bill and the Border Baron... 5

Bill at Salt River

AAMC es 8D

Bill’s Panhandle Man-hunt.. [
Bill at Blossom Range...... :

Bill and Juniper Joe........
Bas Hing SCOOp.. uc.)
Bill
Bits’ Winning Hand. ssc...
Bis: Cinche Glatmes css
Bill’s

at (Clearwater. ccc... E

COMPARES Henne se ‘

Bill ain* thesBad Lands... .... 5

Bill. and the Boy Bugler....
Bill and the Heathen Chinee.
Bill and the Chink War..

Bills Chinese: Chase a3.c% 00 £

Bill’s Secret Message.......

Bill and the Horde of Her-

Bill’s Lonesome Trail....... 5
Bilis Quarry ceases. steGe. 5
Bill im Deadwood’: . 42.3 5. 26.
BUS RIES CAN ee so hae ek, :
Bill and Old Moonlight...... t
Bill SRepandes ete hoc oe io F
Bills Whrow Dake 228 o20 oe: Fi

Bill’s
Bill’s
Bill’s
Bill’s Pieces-of-Hight........
Bill and the Hight Vaqueros
Bill’s Unlucky Siesta.......
Bills Apache Clue. 5525...
Bill and the Apache Totem..
Bill’s Golden Wonder.......
Bills; Biesta Nightestc. oi... .
Bill and the Hatchet Boys..
Bill and the Mining Shark...
Bill and the Cattle Barons...
Biles: Tone -Oda@sersges es
Bill, the Peacemaker.......
Bill’s Promise to Pay.......
Bills “Diamonds Hitch... <6
Bill and the Wheel of Fate.
Bill and the Pool of Mystery
Bill and the Deserter.......
Bill’s Island in the Air......
Bill, Lown Marshal i. 2c. :
Bills 2-Wiltimatum. soc.
Bill’s Test

Bill and the Ponca Raiders. .
Bill’s
Bills Enigma
Bill’s Blockade

NG@wic Pordee see

‘Sight Unseen? .. 0... f

“Winged @Vactory ss... €

OU OT SU OF OU OF OF OF OT OT OT

OU OU OV OT ON

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Boldest Stroke ....... 5

Bill and the Gilded Clique... 5
2

Bill and Perdita Reyes......

Bill and the Boomers....... 5

Bille Calis’ a Halts. s ic...
Bill and the Ke-week Totem.

BTS OM Ke ich toe etre se 5

Bill at Cafion Diablo.:.....

5

If you want any back numbers of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be obei direct

from this office.

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