$2.50 Published Weekl b Beadle and Adams
V01.  a Year. No. 93 Wn‘gumysrn NEW YORK. ’ leréeeel’llflc N0. 

 

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WITHOUT MUCH AWARE!“ mwoa'r. WILD FRANK woman In}: 10 Tail: POOL, {grab-MST,
m m nwmsnmo mum 91 Ian m ' ‘ ' 

 

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. ‘

Wild Frank,

THE BUCKSKIN BRAVO:
. on,
LADY LILY’S LOVE.

BY EDWARD L. WHEELER,

AUTHOR or “ DEADWOOD max ” NOVELS, “ ROSE—
mm ROB ” noans, “ BOSS BOB,” are, me.

CHAPTER I.
THE wonsnnn STRANGER’S GIFT.

IT was a moonlit night on the vast expanse of
rolling country near the Powder River. For
mile upon mile it stretched away toward the
east in undulating billows divided by tiny val-
leys, and with not a tree visible to the naked
9 e.

’ y-he night was keenly cold even for the month
of December, the air bein filled with biting:
trust, at clear and pure. he moon which rode
atvits ¥ull across the blue vault overhead, bathed
the landscape below in a mellow radiance, which
made the ni ht nearly as light as the day that
had recede it.

'A horseman drew rein upon the crest of aland
billow, somewhat higher than its surrounding
neighbors, and swept the prairies with his eagle
glance, an expression of kindling admiration
coining over his browned features.

“It is a beautiful night, ain’t it, Bess?" he
said, patting his coal-black mustang on the
neck. “ It reminds me of the night old
Spotted Tail and his party ave us a whirl,
over on the Loup. I wonder i there's any reds
around, toonight.” V

He unslung a. field glass from its holster, and
gazed long and earnestly through it, sweeping
the landscape on every Slde.

“Nar a varmint, I guess,” was the conclu-
sion, as 9 put up the glass. “ I reckon they’re
off on a raid somewhere, or else they’d be a-
layin’ for me. Ha! ha! maybe they’re sick of
lagn’ for Wild Frank i”

e chirruped to his horse, and away the faith-
ful mustang gadoped down the hillside and
across. the valley to the next billow. and away
and on like an arrow. so swift he went.

A mile was quickly spent, and Wild Frank
was just crossing another ravine or valley when
he beards. peculiar cry. Instantly he reined
Black Bess back upon her haunches and listened,
his features growing suddenly stern in their ex-
pression. Boy of seventeen summers, though he
was, daily experience on the frontier. from in-
fancy h Id taught him the well-known maxim to

, “look before leaping.”

Will Frank, though young in years. and
short in stature, was strong and rugged. and
the clear cast of his countenance, and the eagle

, 8183100 Of his eye, told better than words that he
goal: son of the frontier, brave and daring to a

u r .

f He was clad from chin to toe in buckskin,

with'a hearskin cloak as cape about his shoulrinrs,

andbrondbrim slouch hat upon a head, Whoso
curling brown hair swept his shoulders. '

 

His weapons consisted of a pair of revolvers
and a knife in his belt, and a. rifle slung across
his back. and this he now unslung and brought
into hand as he drew rein.

“ ’Sh! Bess—be uiet,” he said softly. “ It
wasn’t no animal t at give thct yelp. Mebbe
there are reds in the vicinity. Listen!”

They did listen, the mustang as well as her
rider, and were soon rewarded.

A long moaning cry came floating to them on
the crisp breeze——came from a clump of alder
bushes that grew in the ravine, but a. few yards
away.

“ There! I know’d it wasn’t an animal ki-yil”
Wild Frank said. “Nor it ain’t an Indian as
give that peep. I opine I’d best investigate.”

He guided Black Bess close to the thicket, and

dismounted. Parting the shrubbery, he peered ' r

into a sort of clearing that had been made in the
center, by the use of a knife.

Here a scene was revealedto his gaze, that sent
a. thrill of sympathy through his heart, and a.
chill of horror to attack him.

Lying upon the ground, part1 supported on
his elbow, was a man, with a tullrbeard and un-
kempt hair—with haggard eyes and features,
the latter bloody from flesh wounds.

Beside this stranger was a little girl some two
years old—a pretty little thin she was, with
sunny hair, and fast asleep wit her little head
pillowed against the man’s breast.

“ Thank God!” the wounded stranger uttered,
as he saw Wild Frank. “ I was afraid it was
an Indian coming to finish me.”

“But, it ain’t, on see,” the young scout re-
plied. “What’s t e matter? Done for?”

t. The stranger nodded his head in the affirma-

1ve. . .
“ Yes, I am wounded beyond repair,” he re«
plied. sorrowfully. “ The Indians gave me
chase, and I escaped to this covert, but not until,
they gave me a bullet in my side to remember
them by. It don’t bleed externally, but I am
fast filling up inside, and cannot last much
lon er.”

“ Well, this is too bad, sure enough," Wild

Frag}: said. “Is there nothing I can do for
you ’
“Yes, there is,” the stranger answered,

glancing at the child, piteously. "I have not
many minutes to live, and I must leave my lit-
tle girl alone on a pitiless world. knows
how I have suffered for the past few hours in
fear that I should die ere I could make any pro.
vision for her, and she would be left alone here
upon the prairies to die from starvation,
Oh! my boy, you surely will not let my inno.
cent babe come to that!
not!” ‘ ,
“ You can bet I won't, stranger! I don’t know
much about babies, to be sure, for we never had
many up at our ranch, but I’ll take the little (me
if you say so, and do the best _I know how,
Them as knows Wild Frank, Will. tell you he
never let even a‘dog Want for grub.“

“ God bless you, my boy. Take her and call .
her Myrtle. .
to revere her God. and 'He Will bless you for it.
She has no mother. poor baby, and soon will
have no father. Oil! 11: 15 a bitter cup I have
emailed." - .

 

 

 

Tell me that you will , , '

Care for her tenderly; teach her I ‘7' ‘

 

 

  

 

l

 

1-...

“\ “ “inmoyuuadhirmnd

 

 

,wnd Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. '3

 

And tears trickled down over the face of the
wounded father fast.

“ There don‘t grieve, my friend," Wild Frank
said, kneeling beside him. “ l am’t much versed
in the matter, but there’s them as says there’s

co and happiness in the world beyond this.
Fl? take your gal, and see that it is cared for.
Here. Kiss it, and I’ll take it out where it can
have a better bed upon my blankets."

He tenderly raised the child so that the dying
man could kiss it; then the latter drew a tiny
ebony box from his pocket, and pressed it into
the {bung scout’s hand.

“ ake that,” he said, “and always keep it
if ever any question arises that you
want to know who Myrtle really is, you will
find the necessary proof in that box.”

Wild Frank accordingly shoved it into his
hunting—sack, and then carried the babe from
the thicket. Laying1 it upon the ass, he care—
fully arranged a be out of blan ets, upon his
mustang’s back. Placing his protegee upon this,
he strapped her down so that she could not fall
off—then leaving his mustang to graze, he re-
turned to the thicket dell.

A change had taken place.

The stranger was outstretched, prone upon
the earth, rigid in limb and feature, and with
blood oozing from his mouth and nose.

One itying glance, then the young buck-
;kin kn ght turned and retraced his steps to his

orse. -

with you.

 

CHAPTER II.
A wrrn’s unrurnrunnrss.

TWO men met upon the streets of London, and
paused, with a nod of recognition, the elder of
the two extending his hand, which the younger
man took with seeming reluctance.

“Good-evening. Sir Ralph l” the elder man
said. cordiallv, “Just through your duties at
the bank, eh?”

“I am. your lordship,” Sir Ralph replied,
rather stifliy, and in surprise that he should be

hailed upon the thoroughfare b the moneved
aristocrat, Lord Mt. Morey. “ left the omce
3’ but a few moments ago.”
“So I inferred you would, and strolled this
awaytointercept you. Step over to my oflice,

Revere, for I have something of importance to

- r tell you.”

“ At your requast, my lord, I will do so.” Sir

' Ralph responded, his words and tone indicating

that he would much rather decline than accept
the invitation.

Nevertheless he did not refuse his lordship’s
arm, and the two sauntered along the busy
’Change toward Mont Morey’s broking-house.

There was a marked contrast between these
two men, noticeable to an observer.

.Lord Mt. Morey was a man of portly stature,
With a florid, fleshy face. brown, dull eyes, iron-
gray hair. and side-whiskers to match, and was

, what would have been classed a business and a
society man combined.

His manner was habitually easy and suave,
and his general appearance attractive, for be

:dressed richly as well he might, being one of the

na hobs of the West End.
Sir Ralph Revere was dark both in complex-
wwoa ivory~ mus-

 

teche, which lent him a rather brigandish ap-
pearance. Traces left by trouble about his eyes,
told that his life had not a1“ ays been the easiest
and most succesful, and they spoke trul . Al—
though knighted, he one not Wealthy h ‘e Mt.
Morey, his title being the means of his position
in the -—— Bank, as director and acting cash-
ier.

His dress was far from elegant, as compared
with that of Mt. Morey, yet his manners were
refined.

A short walk brought them to his lordship’s
elegantly appointed private office, where they ‘
became seated.

“ Now, then,‘I suppose you are wondering why
I brought you hire,” Mt. Morey said, tossing
him a cigar and lighting one himself.

“In truth. I am rather in the dark,” Sir
Ralph re lied. “ And mv hours of leisure being
limited, trust you will be brief in what you
have to say, my lord."

“In that respect I will try to be obliging.
You probable know that of late I have been an
occasional visitor to your lodgings, in Lynn
Place, during your business hours at the bank?”

“I have heard as much.” Sir Ralph replied,
with darkening brow, “ but Cecil always denied
it, and therefore I never bothered to ask my
lady about it."

Mont Morey smiled.

“Cecil is French, you know,” he remarked,
“ and was bribed. It was the trth you heard,
Revere. I have called upon your wife, Isabel,
several times. It was first upon solicitation pre—
ferred by a note in her handwriting. I found
her in a wretched state of mind, complaining
Bitte’fly that you did not fulfill your promises to

er

“ In what respect, pray?” Sir Ralph demand—
ed with sudden anger.

‘ Oh! not from neglect, my boy, but from ii:-
ability to keep her. That is to say, your urse
was inadequate to the bills she must ma e in
order to hold her own in her social circles. Then,
too, the lodgings you provided were far from
satisfactory to her.”

“Stop! I will not listen to this!” Sir Ralph
cried, his dusky eyes ablaze with passion. “ls-
abel is proud and ambitious, I’ll admit. but she
has always been reasonable. and accepted with
gogd”grace such as it was in my power to pro-
V1 e.

“Ah! yes, in boy, because she did not wish
to worry you. on Will remember that Isabel
was ranked among the beauties of social London
when you wedded her, three years ago. and
knew not what it was to be in cramped circum-
stances, until her uncle renounced her when she
took you. She has not lost any of her beauty
yet. and the natural desire to queen it in society
still clings to her. You will also remember
I was a former favored suitor, until you ste .pcd
in, by some mistake a reputed millionaire. our
money, youth, and bright promise won nor
from me.

“ I did not rave nor seek the inside of a. lunatic
asylum, but quieth bided my ime. knew she
would regret choosing the young for the old, and
it has proven so. On finding her so miseral lo. I
kindly lent her a few thousand pounds togsatisl‘y
her' current needs. Ind— have continued to

 

4 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo.

 

 

favor her thus. Yesterday she confessed her
love for me, and begged me to take her and go
to Canada or America. I was thunderstrnck,
and reasoned with her the scandal such a move
would cause, but she would hear to nothing.
She declared she did not, nor never could love
you as a husband, and should seek a divorce if
she could not obtain her freedom in any other
way. [ finally told her I would come to you,
and offer you ten thousand pounds to leave the
country and never return. This will give her
the freedom she so much desires, and will start
you anew in another country. Of course you
would not care to live with one who can never
love you, and there is but one course for you to
pursue.”

“ N01” Sir Ralph said, gazing at the floor in
a dazed sort of way. “I would not live with
her, if all is as you say. But before I can be—
lieve it I must have better proof. I must have
the proof from her own lips.”

“Perhaps her handwriting will do as well,”
his lordship said. tossing a. tiny perfumed envel-
i ope upon the table at his cloow’. “ She directed
me to give it to you.” '

Sir Ralph seized it, almOSt savagely; it needed
but a glance to convince him as to the origin of
the graceful feninine chirography.

And with such feelings as can better he im—
‘ agined then described, he perused the contents:

“ LYNN PLACE, August 1.
“Sm. RALPH:—

“ You will have heard all but my confirma‘ ion of
the bitter truth ere this, and it cannot add much to
your zriéf to know that these few lines are to con-
firm his lordship’s words. Go hence, I beg of you,
knowing.r my Sincere pity for you. and nevur cast one
simple though 1 on the wom in whose hand has
wrecked your life. Pierre will bring baby Lily to
the Ben Ton Girden to-night. Take her. and leave
, London forever. ISABEL.”

Sir R llph was upon his feet, stern and erect,
as he. finished reading.

“ The train leaves for Liverpool at nine to-
night," he said. “ I will leave on that train!”

CHAPTER III.
» SHADOWED FROM ENGLAND.

“BUT. holzl,” Lori Mt. Morey said. as Si“
Ralph turned to depart. “ Let me first give
you the ten thousand pounds I offered you.”

“Never!” Rivera replied. turning; on him,
with flashing eyes. “I will not sell a wife’s
honor. even if you stand ready to purchase, and
she be willing: Henceforth, sir, consider me
your enemy 1”

He then turned and left the office.

The door hall scarcely closed behind him,
when alittle withered-up old individual emerged
from an inner office, and took the scat Sir
Ral h had lately occupied.

“ oil. well, it worked like a charm, eh?” he
said, Wiping; his watery eyes, and putting on a
pair of green goggles.

“ Capital.” his lordship replied. “Revere
leaves London tonight. and then, of! noes Isa-
bel to Dr. Perrot’s private asvlum. while Cecil
steps in as Lady Isabel, marries me, and I get
the magnificent fortune. Ha! ha! it‘s a great
watt?" 1: I I belimtewd to» ’

, vno marry so w. 0 maid?
the withered man asked

 

 

“ Because she’d die first, before she would wed
me. She hates me, and my only wonder is that
she has not long are this denounced me to Sir
Ralph. It is possible, however, after she finds
herself caged, that she will take me. I’ll try it,
before I make sure of Cecil.”

“ How is she to be trapped?"

“ Easy enough. Dr. Perrot visits her in
person to inform her that her husband has been
seriously hurt in front of his own private hos-
pital, where he lies in a critical condition. Very
naturally, she will fly to him, and into a padded
dungeon, several of which the doctor has at his
command. How like you the idea, Casper
Slick?" .

“ You are a shrewd schemer
shrewder than I gave you credit for being.
it sure that Revere will leave England?”

“ Positive. I’ve arranged it so that it will be
necessary. Ha! ha!”

Sir Ralph went to Bon Ton Garden that even-
ing and found Pierre with the child, as Lady
lsahel‘s letter had promised. Pierre was the
only man servant they had ever kept—an hon-
est fellow, who never made it his business to
mind any one’s business but his own.

Sir Ralph did not stop to ask any guestions,
but took his little twoyear-old girl an left the

my lord —-
Is

 

garden.

She looked wonderineg up into his face, and '
Eigged closer to him, as if satisfied to be with

in.

He took a cab and was driven to the Liver-
pool train, arrivin at the station just in time
to urchase his tic et, and get aboard.

omething had warned him to prepare him-
self, and, there being no one in the car, he had
no difficulty in clipping of! his mustache, with a.
pair of scissors, and donning a. full false heard
of sandy tint.

Scarce a moment latertwo rough looking men
came along the platform with lanterns. Quickly
laying baby Lily on the seat, he threw his over-
coat over her, and, leaning over, rested his
elbow on the window—sill.

The men with the lanterns came along, and
paused.

“ Humpli I" one said. “ I told you it was more
likelv the Folkstone train, Dick.” ‘

“ Maybe it was,” the other growled, doubt-
fullv. “The chap ain’t here, anyhow.”

Then, they gave Sir Ralph another searching
glance, and passed on.

“ They were after me,” the wronged husband
muttered. “ In Heaven’s name, what foul con-
spi racy can now be working against me?”

It was a question he was not able to solve,
just then. His opportune disguise evidently
had saved him from trouble.

Three stations out of London along-whiskered,
portly man got into the compartment and took _
a, son 1;,

When the train was once more under motion,»
this person touched Sir Ralph upon the shoulder,
and said: '

“ Revere, I know you.”

The barouet wheeled around witha smothered , ’

cur. ". ‘ ,
“inure your’Lhe demanded, his eyes glow” ,

2”» new” 'vmv , »

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

iWild. Frank, the Buckskin VBrav‘o. 3

 

“I am Joe Demond, the detective.” was the

replv, “and I am sent to find a defaulter named
, Sir Ralph Revere. Do you think I will be like-
ly to find him, here?”

Sir Ralph did not reply.

He was dumtounded—horror-struck.

“ What do you mean?” he gasped, after a
ion asilence. “In God’s name, what’s the mat-

er ’ ’

“ Oh! nothing unusual,” Demond replied.
“Lord Mt. Morey suggested to me to—night
that the bank of which he is a director. and
you have until to—night been acting as cashier,
ls l cking in funds. to the amount of ten
thousand dollars, in bonds and paper, and sus-
picioned you. I jumped ahead one train toin-
tercapt you. and here I am."

“ his is an outrageous lie. I left the bank
without drawinfiaeven my own dues, much less
stealing," Sir lph cried, indignantly. “ If
you don't believe me, search me and my cf-

ec s.

“ That is needless exertion,” Demond respond—
ed, quietly. “ If you will take ainstoput your
hands in your side side coat pocket you will find
the neat little package where you were seen to
placeit.”

, With a gasp of incredulity, Sir Ralph obeyed,
and] drew forth a package, as the detective had
sai . .

‘_‘ Heaven help me! this is an infamous con-

iracy to ruin me,” he cried. “I never put
t utrlpackage in my pocket.”

“ hat is not for me to say, Sir Ralph. My
duty is to recover this money, and help you to
slide out of England.” 7

“ What! you he] me to escape?”

“ Yes. The ban has detectives waiting for
you. at Liverpool. I am employed by your
friend, Mt. Morey. He directed me to recover
this money, put it in in own pocket, and help
you dodge the force at ive l.”

“ I cannot see through it ail,” Sir Ralph said,
slowly. “ It is all inexplicable to me.”

4. “ Be that as it may, the next thin toconsider
is your escape. There is an old Eng ish woman
of my acquaintance in the next car, who Will
take your child, muffle it up, and take it aboard
the steamer as her own. I have an old man’s
disguise with me for your use, and will fix you

I up so Satan won’t know you, after the guard
takes your ticket.”

And so it was arranged.

When Sir Ralph left the train and went aboard
an ocean steamer._ at LlVC‘ 01, )t was as an in-
firm old man, while baby ily was bundled up
and taken aboard by an old emigrant woman.

' The detective, Demond, was on hanrl, and by
lying threw several detectives of! the scent, who
had assembled to nab Sir Ralph—at least so the
ban-onet was told by Demond.

, And it was not until the vessel was well out
 'of the Mersey that the baronet removedhis dis-
‘A guise and felt easy and recovered his Ohlld.

" And. when he reviewed his narrow escape
from a conspiracy to ruin him. he c'uld but
thank Mt. Morey and Demond, little dreaming
that it was all a put-up job, concocted by the
:ggxneii, to expedite his departure from English

res

 

 

CHAPTER IV.
WILD FRANK DECLINES.

THE scene once more reverts to the broad
prairie, but at a period fifteen years later in the
finward, never-ceasing stride of this life we

ve.

Fifteen years from the keen November hi ht
when Wild Frank of Montana had left in is
charge a little baby over whom to watch and
care.

He had been a youth then, but now the hard
of time had maturcd him to robust manhood, as -
be swept across the Wyoming plains tonight,
on the back of a thorou ‘hbred mustang, an
exact mate of his Black ess of fifteen years
ago.

A man of barely medium hight, compactly
built, yet clean-limbed, wiry and muscular. he
sat his saddle with the reckless case character—
istic of the true son of the frontier, his elab-
orately-fringed bucksliins and slouch hat pro-
claiming that he still followed the calling of a
prairie scout.

In face he was changed.

His features were more tanned from exrosure,
and a lon , sweeping mustache and goatee to-
gether wit his wealth of curling hair, which
swept his shoulders, gave him a dashing appear-
ance.

His weapons. consisting of a rifle and revolv-
ers, were of Government pattern, and richly
trimmed. .

His course pointed westward to-night, and he

,urged his horse with an occasional application

of the spur, his eagle glance sweeping the land-
scape before hm, inquiringly.

The night was clear moonlit, as had been the
memorable one fifteen years lefore, only void
of the stinging coldness, the air now being soft
and “ arm.

“On, Startle,” the scout said—“on, my boy]
It’s but a matter of five miles fr( m yonder motte
to the Papunaugh’s, where food and rest an ait
us both.”

The mustang kept on perseveringly. though
it was evident that he was wearied from a long
Journey. ‘

Presently they ap roacheda prairiemotte or
a small body of tim er, and Wild Frank reined
his horse down to a walk. for he knew of a spring
therein where water could be obtained for him-
self and steed.

He had not gained the corner of the timber,
however, when a horseman suddenly dashed out
in view, and drew iein before the scout’s path.
A glance sufficed to warn Frank that it was a
red-skin, and his rifle came to bear upon the In-
dian with wonderful quickness.

The Indian gave a grunt in the negative.

“Wild Frank fool!’ he said. raising his rifle
with the muzzle {Jointed upward, to a ramrod in
which was attac ed a white rug. “Scar—Face
come not on war-path~—c0me to talk.”

“ It’s lucky you chanced to have the rag ready.
my fine buck,” the scout said with a grin, “or
Wind be smokin’ the eternal pipe 0’ peace long
more this. What d’ye want with Wild Frank,
Injun?” ,

“ Scar-Fa ce sent to meet Buckskin Bravo on
prairie,” was the stoical reply. ‘

“ Oh! so Wyoming Bill sent you, did he?”

/

v .

 

  

8

‘ bore a hole through you!

    

 

Wild. Prank, the Buckskin Bravo}

 

Frank demanded, his brow darkening. “ He
trotted you off down here to shear oil? my pre-
cious top-knot, chi" and the scouts rifle crept
once more toward his shoulder.

“ N01” Scar-Face cried hastily. “Wyoming
Bill no longer want Wild Frank’s scalp. He
sent message which explains.”

And ridino' near, he took a folded paper from
his belt and‘handed it to Wild Frank.

Opening it, the Buckskin Bravo glanced over
it, and then read it cloud in a voice filled with
sarcastic contempt:

“ Omw‘s RANCH, November 90, 18..

"WILD Franc—«After many attempts made to
capture you, none of which have been successful, I
have droppe I that game You have been a hard ill
ferus to sraller. an’ we’ve concluded we’d rut er
hev a man 0‘ yer grit as a frienl than a foe. So er
you’ll quit worrin‘ ng'in‘ us. an‘ join the gang. I‘ll
make ye my first lieutenant. Money au‘ whisky is
plei'ity. an' you‘ll find our lawless life a. heap more
moral avi’ exldit‘yiu’ than yer own. Send an answer
back by Scar—Face. Yours truly.

“ WYOMING BILL."

A wild laugh escaped the Buckskin Bravo as
he tore the paper into bits.

“ So, the bold lion of the hills has got his fill
with the prairie panther, ch?” he said, mocking-
ly. “ Well, I am not surprised. My only
amazement is that Bill should not know me
well enough from experience to be assured I
would tear off In own scalp before I’d accept
such term; from him. A bitter foe to outlaws,
villains and ruff-inns at large, from infancy up,
I am not likely to change my feelings toward
them at this late stage in my life. You can
tell Wyoming Bill this, red-skin, and tell him
also that Wild Frank defies him, and has regis-
tered an oath to hunt him down and bring him
to justice, torrether with the whole of his rene—
gade gang. 0, now—get up and dust before I
If Wyoming Bill
desires to hear further from me, 1please impress
it on his memory that Wild Fran makes it his
home at Papanuuzh’s Ranch.”

Saar Face nodded, and setting the spurs to
his mustang, dashed away across the prairie in
an eastern course.

Wild Frank watched him until he had disap-
peared, more than once griping his rifle tightly,
as though tempted to shoot him.

Finally he rode on into the motto, watered his
horse at,the spring, and then set on westward
across the prairies, pondering, a; he rode, over
this meetin: witn Scar—Face.

So deep were his reflections that he did not
arouse until he heard the crack of a. rifle and

' the whiz of a bullet close to his head.

It took but a glance to discover the author of
the attack.

A horseman was fust disappearin over the
crest of a prairie bil ow, not a. thousand yards

' in advance of him.

,With a. shrill yell Wili Frank gave his muse

, tune; the rein, and dashed away in hot pursuit,

bent on learning who was his new foe.
His first thought was that it was some mem-

, ber of‘Wyominq Bill’s infamous sang.

But on gaining the crest of the billow, over
which his assailant had vanished, he saw his
error. ‘ p ..

 

Below, in a snug little pocket valley, was .
pitched a camp, where several camp-fires were

urning in front of marquee tents, with a
couple of prairie schooners and teams of mules
near at hand. '

A man was just dismounting from a horse
near one of the camp-fires, and a, knot of several
men and women clustered around him. '

With his rifle‘ ready for use, Wild Frank gal-
loped down into the camp, expecting every mo-
ment he would be fired upon, but in this was
ha. pily mistaken.

be people ap red to be more alarmed than
belli ' erent, and when he drew rein they stood
hud ed together and regarded him with doubt-
ful glances. ‘

“What do you want here?” the dismounted
horseman, a burl , well-dressed man, with heavy I
side‘whiskers, as ed.

“I came here to inquire what business you
have to practice target shooting upon inoffensive
travelers?" the Buckskin Bravo replied. “ I
don’t generally swallow lead gills without know-
ing why they were prescribe .” . ‘

CHAPTER V. /
WYOMING BILL, THE oU'rLAw.’ , _

PAPANAUGH’S RANCH was not a. city. Some
half a dozen log cabins and their accom anyin
outbuildings were scattered about on the pra. -
rie, of which John Papanaugh owned the largest
of the lot and it bore the same name which
clung to the settlement.

The population did not exceed sixty or seventy,
not counting the transients and were for the
most part berders and their amilies.

The Ranch was a combination of tavern, .
post—office, grocery store and trading post, pre«
sided over by J chuPapanaugh or his pretty sis—
ter Ella, who was known far and near as the '
Humming Bird. '

The Papanaughs were half-breeds, but despite
this fact, no prettier maiden existed on the bor-
ders of Wyoming. than Humming Bird.

She was of medium hight, we]; rounded and

aceful as a fawn. Her complexion, though ‘
Just a trifle dusky harmonized well with her
joyous features. and the brilliancy of her mag-
netic black eyes and her hair when allowed to
fall back over her shoulders reached half-way
to her feet, in a. silken rippling we‘ve.

Except when angered, s e was ever joyful and
nearly always singing. , ' .
‘ Possessed of a r rich, pure voice, and a. knowl-

edge how to use it. none could rival her in song.
and she won her Indian name of Humming Bird
from her musical roclivities. . "

John Pepanaug was a swarthy. herculean
fellow very reticent,'and inclined to mind no
one’s business but his own. He never spoke um
less spoken to, and when aroused to anger, he
was known as a desperate fighter.

Paoanaugh‘s Ranch was a general steeping
Point for trappers, hunters and overland parties '
bound for the mines. and it was not unusual for

 

the ponulation of the town to be considerably inf- .' ‘

creased bv these transients. ,-
Yet, strange to say, on that same night, on ;,

which Wild Frank rode down into the tourists?" ‘

camp. the Ranch had a scarcity of custom. , ' ’
Three men only, besides John Papanaugh, put 1  ’ ’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

" blence, Were brothers.

 

 

ing Considerable whisky to wash down the dust
0t the cards.

Two of the three, judging by the close resem-

Both were burly, broad-
shouldered men, with heavy black hair, mus-
tache and gontees, and were roughly dressed.
Exposure to the sun and wind had tanned them
to almost an Indian color, and, too, the expres—
sion of their faces was anything but saintly.

They were armed to tLe teeth. and might safe-
13’ have been classed as ugly customers.

he third man was a slim individual, with ap-
parently but. little flesh upon his bones, and a
spare, pinched face fully as villainous in its ex—
pression as those of the two brothers. His mouth
was broad, his nose hooked, and his insignificant
eyes were shaded by a pair of spectacles. lle
wore a Frenchifiod mustache waxed to a pomt
at the ends, and was dressed in a suit of seedy
broadcloth, and a misused, out—ofstylc silk hat.

An observer would have set the two first de-
scribed down as thoroughbred rnfiians, and the
little man of the goggles a criuging villain.

Yet, at Papannugh’s, the trio were regarded
with no particular dislike by tho residents in
general, despite the Wondcrment cvcr rifo us to
how they made their living.

The little man, Dr. Dccring, had first set him”-
sclf up as a Justice of the Peace, but Wild Frank
had proven him a humbug in that capacity, as
he had no papers or authority whatever for such
an office. _ /

He had then mixed in with the Harris broth-
ers, and the trio leafed about without any par-
ticular occupation, except once in a while to
purchase a few furs from the Indians.

Yet they always Stemod to have plenty of
money, and when hanging about the attic-
ment kept well soaked With whisky. At times
they would be absent from the settlement for a.
week to a. month or longer, and then would re-
turn and hang around for as long a time, and
drink gamble and'carouse.

’ Perhaps it was from some secret fear of them
that the people of Pepnnaugh’s never molested
them, for there was suspicion in the mind of
more than one that they did not come by their
money honestly. '

To-ni ht they appeared to be more interested
in a su )dued conversation that ran between
them, than in the game of cards they Were

laying, and frequent glances at stolid John
gapanaugh. who sat dozing near the fireplace,
with a pipe in his mouth, proved that they were
not desirous that he should catch the drift of

, their conversation.

“If he refuses to join us,” Dr. Deering said,
with a. low oath “ then he must die—that is all.
We’ve either got to move out, or Wild Frank
as

h .
‘.‘ Curse him!” Jim, the eldest of the Harris
-b1‘others, hissed. spitefully. "I would like to
see him planted, even better than would the
. For five years he’s been pickin’ off the
28m: until there 9 only four whites left, and the
1 only knows how many of the reds he’s
checked off. Yet he goes on killingr them. and
pee the traps set for ,him. as though possess-
as many lives as the proverbial cat. Some-

esca
ed 0 '
> {- thins, truly, must be done.”

it a table playing a game of cards, and punish- .

 

Wild frank, the fiucksixin Bram}. 

“I reckon I’ve got the most cause to com.
plain,” Bob Harris growled. “ As ye well
know, et’s the cussed scout that’s turned Hum-
min Bird’s thoughts from me.”

“ ah! you’re weak I" the doctor sneered.
“ Faint heart never won fair lady, you know.
If you’ve got a. grudge ag’in’ Wild rank, ou’re
the very one best calculated to slip 3. kn' 6 into
him." '

“ Humphl I ain’ta fool,” Bob declared sour—
ly. “ If you’ll find a. pilgrim about the Itanch,
with grit enough to tackle Wild Frank, single-
handed, I’ll buy a. round of whisky. Fer one I
want him quieted, so I can sail in and Win Hum-
ming Bird.”

“ So ye’r’ blufl'ed downby the little scout, eh?"
Jim Harris grunted. “Waal, now 1 opine at
it war my love case, I’d tell durned quick who
was the best mam—me or Wild Frank. All you
want to do is to talk turkeyto the Humming
Bird, an’ tell her of she don’t marr you her fate
is decided. Ef she sees ye mean usiness, you
bet she’ll come to terms.”

“’Shl" Deering warned, as the door to the
Ranch opened. ‘Here comes some one. Ah!
the captain, in disguise.”

A man of great stature had just entered. He
was fully asix—footcr, and broadly proportioned.
He was clad in brown overalls, overshirt and
stogy boots, with a slouch but upon his end,
and a cloak thrown around his shoulders. The
but was slouched down to the eyes, and was;
met by a shaggy black beard that nearly hid the ‘
rest of the face, except the nose and piercing
black eyes.

He entered with a. quick glance about the
room, and then advanced to where the trio
were seated.

“ Pla in’ kecrds, eh?” he said. “ Waul, I don’t
hear of do take a. hand fer a drink.”

When he had seated himself at the table be-
tween Bob and Jim Harris, he continued in a
hushed tone:

“ ’Sh! mum‘s the word. Big stake ahead.
Tourists camped in Pretty Pocket. Old Enghsh
lord with more money than Croesus and a lovely
daughter in the bargain.”

 

CHAPTER VI.
THE rounisrs’ CAMP.

THE words of the Buckskin Bravo caused the
offending tourists to flush with anger.

“ Aw, ’ he said, in an affecth tone, “ ze Ameri-
can speak angry without 2&2 roper cause, and
without ze respect due no euch nobleman.
Ze Frenchman see American on ze prairie and
mistake him for me Injean, an shoot at him.”

“ I doubt very much if you were so much ,mis‘
taken as that,” Wild Frank retorted. “Unless
your eyes are poor you could have distinguished
me from an Indian in this moonli ht.” Y

“My eyes zey are very poor,” t e Frenchman
replied, adjusting- a pair of gold—rimmed glasses
to the rim of his nose. “ Ze American. no busnness
abroad on 29 prairies when ze night falls, for 29
travelers to frighten." ,

“ I opine it is none of your business who
roams this free soil after nightfall,” Frank said i
sternly. “ It is evident on are a coward, and

I ran read in your face at your shout at me .

 

 

 

..j»»...,,..',sp.e,,  .r 9-  

Wild  the

 

was intentional.
ladies, I should be tempted to
sound thrashing on the spot.
of a man I am I’

“ Awl ze American really must parding ze

But for the presence of these
ive you a God
hat’s the ind

French nobleman for refusin to fight. I have
so distingue honor of being out Alphonse de
Rablee, ze chemist merchante prince of ze city
of Paris. Ze French gentleman nevar fight ze
inferiore in rank."

" Ze French coward nevar fight 29 bold knight
of as prairies," Wild Frank retorted, sarcasti-
cally, “ because he is afraid. Hal be!”

And he wheeled his horse around to depart.

“ Stop,” another man of the group said, com-
mandingly—an older erson, with white hair
and side-whiskers, an every appearance of ad-
vanced ago. “Don’t be so fast, my man.
will apologize to you for the count, who was
merely winning a wager. He sallied forth on
a wager that he‘d get a shot at one of the
Aborigines, and doubtless mistook you for one,
this being his first visit to the plains. If this
explanation is satisfactory, we should be pleased
to have you camp with us for the night, as we
are sadly in need of a scout and guide, which I
perceive you are."

“ True, I am a scout, but at resent not at
liberty ” the Bravo re lied. “ ay I inquire
whom am addressin ’

“Certainly, sir. am Lord Henry Mt.
Morey, of London, and a member of the Eng—
lish arliament elect. The lady on my right IS
in dy Mt. Morey, and the young lady on my
In t is Lady Lillian, m ward. The rest of my
Barty is composed of Count Alphonse de Rablee,

asper Slick, a noted English barrister, and
Henry Irvino', m footman.” '

“Ah!” Wild rank said, with a. slight start
of sur rise, and a quick searching glance at
Lady illian, who was one of the prettiest
young maidens he had ever seen—a sunny-
faced, sunny-haired little thing of seventeen or
eighteen, attired in a tasty walking habit and
finnty fur cap. Then he turned to Lord Mt.

orey.

“But, what brings you here on the prairies
so late in the season, air?”

“Address me as ‘my lord,‘ please,” the Eng-
lishman said, austerely. “ It sounds better, you
know—~more respectful."

“ I prefer not.” Fra wk answered. “There is
but one Lord whom I look up to, and he is not
of flesh. I therefore will address no man' on
earth as my lord. If on wish to address me
and receive a civil United States answer, I am
open for a cnnfab. Otherwise, I am notl"

“Good for on, scout! I honor your senti-

* ments,” Lady ily cried. with enthusiasm, but
Mt. Morey only flushed with rage.

“Curse me but your insolence is unpaidon—
able!" he crie strikin the ground fiercely with
his cane, “and were t not for our unenviable
Situation, from which we must be extricated, I’d
Barr’s, you horsewhipped within an inch of your

e

“I dare say,” the Buckskin Bravo said. with a
peculiar smile. “Your condition would prop-
any need still further repairs, after such a
charge. If your health is at all satisfactory,
you’

better remain calm, as sudden changes of

wail-“a ,

 

Buckskin/fines:

s: _

temperature have been known to result fatally,
here in the West.” "

“You are right. I’ll not uarrel with you],’
Mt. Morey wisely conclud . “ You seesaw
case is like this: We are a party of English
tourists who have been doing the Territories for
health and pleasure. , We started several weeks
ago, overland for the nearest railway point,
bound for the States, when our guide—a half~
breed—took offense and deserted us, yesterday;
and here we are, at a. standstill, without any
knowledge of our surroundings, or how to reach
the railway."

“A bad fix, sure enough,” Wild Frank de-
clared. “ You could never reach the railway
now, even with a guide—at least, it would be a
risk undertakin ."

“ hy, pray?” his lordship demanded, with a.
scared look.

“ Because you’d fall into the hands of one of
several bands of vagabond reds, who are lying
low for just such picnics as this between here
and the railroad. In addition, there will be a
blinding snow-storm of the blizzard pattern, day
after to-morrow, which would be apt to use up
what the reds leave of you.” ,

The faces of the tourists became doubly anx-
ious—all except that of Lady Lily.

“ How do you know this to be true?” she ques-
tioned, modestly.

“ I know thar’s reds, because I’m just in from
a week’s scout among them,” Frank replied. “ I
know there will be a storm from signs taught
me b lifelong experience on the frontier.”

“ hen what are we to do?”

“ You have a choice of two things: turn back
to Papanaugh’s Ranch, or camp here, and pre-
pare fer a week of winter. or more.”

“ l’Ve will remain here,” Mt. Morey decided.

“ And ze scout better go now,” the count su -
gested, with a frown, noting Wild Frank 3
glances at Lady Lily.

CHAPTER VII.
THE HUMMING BIRD.

“You could hardly press me to remain, I
fancy,” Wild Frank returned. “I have heard
said a jealous Frenchman was akin to a rattle-
snake bite, and so I will vamoose, until an op-
portunity comes for me to draw the rattlesnake’s
fangs. Hal hal Good-ni ht to you all!"

“ Good-night!” Lady ily said, earnestly,
while the others looked displeased, Count Al-
phonse in particular.
greatly obliged to you, and shall be glad to have

I you call again.”

Seeing that the Frenchman was greatly Sig-r

ravated, Wild Frank waved his slouch som—
Erero back, gallantly, and Lady Lily took .off‘
her own pretty fur cap and returned the parting-
salute.

“ She is a pretty maid,” the Buckskin Bravo

muttered, as he dashed up out of the valley, and

across the level prairie, to the westward. "

and graceful. thoroughly intelligent and modest,

she is just the kind of a woman I would like to

call Mrs. Wild Frank. Ha! ha! the idea of a

literal old bach like me talking of a wife! I'
reckon she wouldn’t use one of us prairie purps.

for a door-mat, even."


if

“I am sure we areall Y

He spoke a trifle bitterly, as though some timer '

-  x'rv-jy‘vvéé'g-r - .

 

.x ' :31)‘~v.1\~ 1 I. .15. «awash»...
. , J * ‘

 

 
 
 

My“, .‘.._...;....,..a.
i z,, ,

A . 

 

eve-c}- :Jw'Avr - a.
r i, v

 

  

 

was Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. 4

 

 

 

I in his eventful life he had been crossed by some
“ ~ maiden, fair but over proud.

3 ’ A strange lit 01' moodiness seemed to fall over
" r, him as he rode along, and his head dropped for.
‘ ward upon his breast, with a long. deep sigh.

, The moonlight showered down upon his shoul-
ders, as if in sympathy with him, and scintillated
upon several tear-drops that had fallen upon his
muetan ’s neck. .

r » Ho (1 d not arouse until his steed came to a
Sallie and then he came out of his reverie with a
r .

Before him was a circle of low- wing
shrubs, of the sage-bush order, and wit in that
circle was a green grassy mound at the head of
which gleamed a little marble slab, partly over-

, f ‘ grown with creeping vines.
' ' , “ Ah! Sterile, why did you bring me here, to-
, ~ night?" he said, passing his hand across his fore-
, . head. “ Did some subtle instinct tell you that I
i r was thinking with sadness of the one who lies
l buried onder’!”
f He slipped from the saddle and went over and
 ‘ knelt beside the mound, his chin resting upon his
l ' , hand and his eyes fixed upon the headstone over
a,’ ‘- which vines crept clingingly, and proud myrtles
' nodded in sympathy.

“There is to be a clearing up of the mystery,
 "by and by,” he murmured—" something plain y
tells me that. And if I mistake not, it will rend
more hearts than one.”

 

‘ a.”
W

 

 r He again relapsed into silence, and remained
' -‘ 7 ‘so unti a touch upon his shoulder caused him to
. start to his feet.
. \ l, “Humming Bird!” he exclaim gazing in
surprise at he beauteous halt-b irl who
' stood near. “Why are you here,so ar from
the ranch?”

 

“Because I thought I could find on here,
. scout. Many times the Humming ird has
, E r y 7 found the Buckskin Bravo kneeling by this loner
. , ’ 1y ave. Why is it so?”
, y ‘ The same answer that I have given to you
- _. as man times as we have chanced to meet here,
Birdie, the scout said, sadly. “ The grave con-
, ‘ tains all that is 9mg; of one whom I once knew
as a pure, true-hear friend. I never pass this
t unless to stop in reverence to the remem~
bored dead. But, tell me, Humming Bird, what
, ' brings you here to search for me, when you
' , knegflnot but what I was far away upon the
r trei .
. . ’ v .' “Something told the Hummin Bird that she
i i ’. -‘would find Wild Frank here an she came. She
, was lonely at the ranch, all she yearned to see
s’cout, once more to tell him that she loves

J:
i
o'

    

 

  

VA.pained expression shot athwart the Bravo’s

features, and he came closer to the pretty half-

»bregdidgirl, laying one hand upon her fair, round
0' 91‘

n  “Birdie,” he said, slowlg, “ I have on more
r~ 'than one occasion told you t at I could not re-
, Ears! ou in a. lover-like way. From infancy we

'; ave own each other, and Ihave regarded you
~with sisterly affection, but not as a husband
should think of a wife, Heartvfree, and hand-
‘tree, as I am. I pretax-to remain for the few years
yet allotted me to live."

’ “ If heart free, then Humming Bird may still
,bope that, the Buckskin Bravo will yet 18am to

   
  
  
    
   
  
   
  

 

love her " the halt-breed girl said. “Humming
Bird Will never marry unless she can have the
Bravo. She has said it.”

“ Say not so,” Wild Frank replied, “ for you
have many other admirers worth two like me,
in a husbandly sense. There is Jack do Horne——
us wealthy and Worthy a young herder as we
have upon the border. He would cut off his
right hand to possess you.”

“He has never spoken words of love to the
Humming Bird,” was the doubting answer.

“ Because you never gave him the chance from
always hovering about me,” the scout declared.
“ You had better go now—it is getting well on
into the night, and John Papanaugh will be anx-
ious about his sister.”

“ John Papanaugh is no fool,” the maiden re-
plied. “ The Humming Bird knows these prai-
riestoowell to be lost in a dark night, even.
W here is Frank going?”

“Over to the camp of my pards, on Lily
Creek. It has been a round month since I re-
ported.”

“The Humming Bird will go back to the
ranch ” the girl announced. “But before she
goes, Buckskin Bravo must promise her one
thing—promise it sacred ly—swear it!”

“What is that, Birdie? It is seldom Wild
Frank registers an oath—it is never he breaks
one.

“I want you to swear,” the ha1f~breed girl
said, raisin her dusky orbs toward the great
moon, whic soared overhead—“I want you to
promise that if you cannot love and wed me,
you will never loveor wed any one else—espe
cially the pale-faced, stunk-up girl at the tour-
ists’ cam . ’ ' .

Wild rank started, so sudden was the thrust.
Humming Bird had been near then, at the time
of his visit to the camp!
laBut he disguised his surprise by a light little

ugh.

“ Oh, as to that, there is no need of exacting
a promise, for the haughty English beauty
would disdain to be courted by the rough son of
the plains, even were be disposed, which he is
not. Therefore there is no necessity of such a
promise, Birdie.”

“ I say there is l” the girl flashed back, stamp-
ing her foot.

‘Well, well, we won’t quarrel about it,” the
scout said, patting her on the head. “You
have always been a friend to me when others
have turned aside. so I will make the remiss,
in a modified way: If perchance I in] in low
with another, and wish to marry, I will first
come and ask your permission, and abide by
your decision.” .

“ Good! Humming Bird thanks the Buckskin
Bravo l" the girl said, tears of gratitude entering
her eyes. “ She will go now.”

She turned abruptly and darted away over
the prairie, in a southwesterly direction, never
once looking back until she was out of eight of
the scout, _

Then she nosed, and shook her little brown
fist toward t as tourists’ camp, the expression of
her face growing dull and mood

y.

“It is the pale-face girl Whom Wild Frank,
is attracted to. No—maybe. not, for he has
long ere this told Humming Bird be bad no love

  

  

  

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo.

  

 

for her. Humming Bird is not blind, however.
It is in the prairie grave, back yonder, that
Frank‘s love lies buried, and it will never be
_ resurrected unless by the proud—faced beauty at
the tourists’ camp. For Humming Bird no hope
is left-no hope is left, except in the gravel”
And she burst into sobs or lonely grief.

' CHAPTER VIII.
OUTLAWS PLOTTING.
To return to the Ranch.
The words of the new-comer caused the three
villains to start up interestedly.
“ What’s this you say?" Jim Harris demand-
“If thar’s anything spicy, give us the full

 

The stranger glanced cautiously round the
room, again, and then continued, in an under-
to n

he.

“There’s a fat stake, if properly worked. A
party of English tourists is camped over here,
a ways—four men and two women, all told.
One of the women is a g’hal, and a reg’lar
bloomin’ primrose, too, you bet! Set it down
in your memorandum, she’s my meat.
izzled old English cock—sparrow—a
aristocrat from London, with Lord

hitched onto the fore-part of his name—he’s the
kin -oin of the party, and carries the swag."
‘ “ ow much?” the doctor asked, eagerly.

“ That remains to be told,” Wyoming Bill re-
“You kin bet high his
treasury is fat, for these old British skunks
g about the country Without

plied, significantly.

don’t go a-balloouin
plenty of ballast.”

“Of course not,” Bob Harris agreed.
fruit tastes good, and there is no reason why
we shall not pluck it.”

“It may prove to be like Eve’s fruit,” Dr.
Deering suggested,
ever the captain is boss.”

“ t can be worked like a charm. There is no
need of our even venturing a hand. Scar-Face
and the reds can swoop down and gobble
’em up, and fetch ’em to the headquarters.
There we can relieve them of their valuables,
retain the girl, and turn the 01d ’uns loose on
the prairie to graze.”

“A good plan,” Jim Harris decided.
while we’re talking over matters, what’s to be
done with his nibs, Wild Frank? He’s been al-
together too flush 0’ late, to suit our notion. an’
I reckon he’s s’picioned us, too. First we know
he’ll have us pounced upon by the marshal for
hein’ connected with you and the gang."

“ He must be planted,” Wyoming Bill cried,
springing excited]
dro oed back in

philosophically.

chair, however, with a

“ I forgot mvself. so intensely do I hate that
scout,” he added, in a low. hoarse voice.
can prescribe no better fate for him. than hand-
ing him over to the reds, for the stake.
there’s enough grease about him to make him
burn first-rate."

r “Yas,” the doctor said, drawlinglv. “But
this is talk. How many traps have we laid for
this devil’s own. all to no avail.
we've had him in our power, only to have him

y his pards—Laughin‘ Len and Eagle

 

 

   

“True; but we must manage to cage him_
this time, so he won’t break loose. I haven
plan which I think will be successful. I will see
Scar—Face to-night and arrange to have him.
pounne down upon the tourists, to—morrow
night, and capture them. We’ll come here, to—
morrow night, also, and if Wild Frank turns
up, as I’ve an idea he will, we’ll take him and
run him off to headquarters. Should he not’
chance to be here, we’ll nab the Humming
Bird, whom Bob’s struck on, and take her along.
When Wild Frank learns that both the gals are
gone, he’ll rightly conclude who's got ’em and
make :1 strike for the hills again, in search of ' "'
our retreat. We‘ll have spotters out, and be-
fore ho is scarcely aware of it, he’ll find himself
in our power, and at our mercy. How like you
the plan?” ‘

“ It is a bully one!” Bob Harris agreed. 1-."
elated at his prospect of gaining possession of "
the Humming Bird without openly attacking
the Bravo, ild Frank. 

“ Yes. it suits us,” the doctor and Jim Emis . ’ 
assented. . ‘

“Then it is settled. To—morrow night we
will meet here, ready for business. I will come
ina different disguise, but one that you will . .
recognize." '

i,
if
. I

 

When she had recovered from the paroxysm'  5;;
of grief, the Humming Bird turned her steps "
back toward the settlement, mechanically, her
face still gloomy and tear-stained. When she
arrived in sight of the settlement, she halted,
and drawinga little whistle from her pocket,
blew a shrill blast upon it. ~

Shortly after a trim Indian pony galloped out a
from among the cabins, and over to her side, I
with a. whinny of recognition. r ,

Springing upon his back and headin him to
ward the West, Humming bird gave tfie word,, ‘
and he galloped away cefully. For fully an . i ‘
hour the half-breed gir rode on before she drew
rein, then it was in a deep, rocky canyon that, r
split in twain a range of rugged hills. It Wasa , '
dark, lonesome place, where the moonlight did
not penetrate, yet enough light crept down from
the starry ‘dome above to enable one to see a. .
few yards before.

Dismounting, Humming Bird left her ny
to graze, while she hurried on into the dept s of»
the canyon. Allaround her rocky Walls rose ,7
high and steep, and upon them were_engraven‘
strange rude pictures of Indians, animals and
weapons. chiseled out probably by savagesculp—
tors of centuries past and gone. '

Taking no notice of these pictures, the Hum.
mine Bird hurried on until she came to where a '
series of stone steps had been chiseled into the
face of the left rocky wall. at the too of Whic
there was a round hole in the face of the mou
tain. no larger than would admit a person
hand. vet extending to untold depth, ’ I .,

Ascending these stem, and kneelingr before the)
aperture, the Humming Bird spoke in the Sioux‘
tongue:

‘4 Ugh! Great medicine-woman!”

A few minutes elapsed, then came be,
answer in a voice that sounded strange and
pulchralg '-

  
   
  
   
   
  
 
 
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
 
 

   

 

  

   

 

 

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo.

  

11

 

 

“ Who calls upon Ummagog, the Spirit Medi-
cine-Woman of the Manitou?"

“ It is Humming Bird," the girl replied.

“ What wants the half-breed girl in the mid
of night. when earthly beings are supposed to
'1 SIUn'lrer?" was the next query.

'g' “ The heart of the Humming Bird is sad. Her

lover, the Buckskin Bravo, no longer cares for

. l her, and will not take her to his Wigwam.

if Humming Bird comes to the Great Medicine
for words that will bring back the Bravo to
her.”

“ It is not in the power of the Great Medicine

’ to change the likes or dislikes of mankind,”

came from the aperture. "Let Humming Bird
return to the Ranch on the prairies.”

“ Humming Bird will obey. But first she
wishes to ask one favor.”

» “ What is that?” _

“ She prays the good medicinewoman to put
obstacles in the way, so that Wild Frank, the
Buckskin Bravo, may not hereafter meet and
love the English lady called Lady Lillian."

“Who and where is she?”

“ She is with a party of tourists, encamped
upon the prairie ten miles east."

“ Lady Lillian who?”

“ I do not know."

“ Who are her companions?”

“ An English lord and lady, a French count,
a doctor, and a valet."

“ What is the name of the English lord?”

» , “ Lord Mt. Morey.”
, l a i . “ And the count?”
 i “ Count do Rahlce.”

" And the doctor?”

“ Casper Slick.”

“Very well; medicine-woman will remember
the request of the Humming Bird, who better
look for another lover. Let her choose one of
her own race."

_ “The pale-face is as much Humming Bird’s

' race as the red-man,” the maiden returned,
then she turned, descended the steps. sought her
horse. and rode away once more over the moon-
lit prairie toward Papenaugh’s.

   
  

  
  
  
   
 
    
  

 

 

CHAPTER IX.
ANGEL GABRIEL.

WILD FRANK, after arting with the Hum-
ming Bird. rode direct y to the camp of his

rds, Laughing Len and Eagle Eye, which was
mated about four miles northeast of Papa—
mmgh’s settlement,

The camp was pitched in a tiny prairie valley,
or'pocket. upon t e shore of a little pond, which
was fed by a Spring that gurgled out from the

   
    
  
   

aided the hill. _
It was a famous night-stop for overland par-
\ ties familiar With the country. as there was
' - plenty of timber Of the chaparral order near at
' hand. pure water, fresh grass and lots of buffalo-
* fish in the lake.
' A hriirht fire was burning before a solitary
tent. as Wil Frank descended the slope toward
the lake. an around it were gathered three per-
sons. Two of them he readllv recnmlzed—the
wiry, humpbacked little trapper. Lvn. and the
,atalwart. hnwny ex—Sinux chief, Eagle Eye.
WWFmonheeould not placeinhistnem-

     
   
 

 

   
  
   
 

 

     
 

 

ory, and yet failed to recognize him even when
he rode into camp and dismounted.

He was a very aged person, of over medium
hight, yet very thin in flCsb, with long hair and
a great sweeping board which cow red the most
of his face, and all of which was of snowy
whiteness.

He reminded Wild Frank of a picture he had
once seen of legendary Rip Van Winkle, as he
sat upon a log war the fire, partly loaning for-
ward on a staff, for he was even as ragged as
Rip after awakening from his long repose.

“ Hcllol Back, aire v0?” Laughing Len
:zrunted, knocking the ashes out of his pipe.
“ How’s Injun?”

“ Rather noisy. Indications are that it’ll be
a blustery winter with ’cm,” the Buck: kin
Bravo answered. “ Who‘s this old delegate you
have here?”

“ I am the Angel Gabriel!” the old man said,
facing about and cyiug Frank keenly. “ I am
here to warn all sinners to prepare. for it lacks
but a few days of the time when I shall toot my
trumpet.”

“ Oh! is that so?” Frank exclaimed. but with
a smile, for he quickly saw the light of insanity
burning deep in the eyes of the Stranger. “So
we can all prepare to sliuflle off our coil, eh?”

“Verin so saith I,” was the grim response,
and the prophet again tixed his gaze upon the
fire, and relapsed into silence.

“Yas, that ’tarnal cuss tumbled d0wn inter
camp ter-night,” Len said, “ an’ preached king‘
dom kum, as long as or arm, so I reckoned it
must be so, or he won dii’t so at. An’ I war
jest conSiderin’ about sendin’ aglc Eye over ter
the ranch to git a Supply of tobacco for the trip
when I see’d you comin 1”

Then the scout went off into ahearty laugh,
and laughed till he had to hold his sides in

pain.

“ Ugh! Grahel crazy,” Eagle Eye said,
gruflly. “ He big fool like drunk squaw.

“ No. I am not crazy, or drunk,” the stranger
3 he up. “I’m Gabriel—the great and only

abriel, and the toot of my trumpet shall be
heard throughout the land.”

“Where is your trumpet, brother Gabriel?”
Wild Frank asked.

“ It shall be handed down to me ty areg‘in‘ent
of winged mtssuigei's frrm above, in due
time," was the solemn response.

Then the old fellow rolled himself up in a.
blanket that Eagle Eye had given him, and
lay near the fire, closing liis wild eyes as if for
re .
‘ What's to he done with him?” Len demand.
ed. calling Wild Frank one side, after awhile.
“He's crazy, eh?”

“ Yesé—touched somewhere. Let him alone, .
and he’ll harm no one.”

“ Get out! He might lift our hair while we're
sleepinrl"

“Pshawl I’ll run the risk of mine and it‘s
longer than yours. Angel Gabriel’s all right, if
yon let him alone.”

He appeared to be sleeping peacefully when
the scouts rolled themselves up in their ltlnnlv eta,
and they felt no particular fear from his prea-

enl‘e. / .
Yet it is an old and wise saying that appear. ,

   

 

 

Wild Prank, the

   

Buckskin Bravo.

 

  

ances are deceitful, and it proved so in this
base. '

No sooner did the distinct heavy breathing of
the Scouts become audible, than the maniac
stirred, then cautiously raised upon one elbow.

His eyes were now gleaming with intense
cunning.

Not apparently satisfied that they were sleep-
ing, be seized a pebble and tossed it over on the

ground near their heads, and lay quickly back

upon his blanket. .

No stir was made by the pards, Wthh appear-
ed to be proof that they were asleep. The hear-
ing of the prairie scout is as keen as the scent of
a hound, and. unless very sound asleep, it does
not require much to disturb him—~21 fact that the
maniac seemed to comprehend

Rising. he took a good look at the surround-
ings before making a further move.

Then, crouching. he stole cautiously toward
where the pards were rolled in their blankets,
making not so much noise as aunt might have
made.

Taking a. vial of whitish liquor from his

ocket, he held it to Wild Frank’s nose. Then

9 repeated the operation on Laughing Len, and
next on Eagle Eye.

This seemed to satisfy him,'for he gave vent

‘ to a strange laugh. and spurned each of the
sleepers with his foot, and, as they awakened
not, he knew that they were unconscious.

“ Now I will know what I want to know,” he
said. kneelingy by Wild Frank’s side and rum-
mergingr in his pockets. " They thought I was a.
tool. but made a grand miscalculation.”

This thought seemed to please him, for he
laughed long and loud. ~

He took everything out of Wild Frank’s
pocket, but failed to find what he sought for
there.

“ Yes, this is he—I . was not wrong,” he mut-
tered: “but he has not the proof—the blessed
proof. Hal hal with that I could meet the vul-
tures, and face them out in their imposition.”

He was not satisfies/l still. and next searched
Laughing; Len and Eagle Eye, and the saddle
trappings of the party. But with the same re-
su t. ’

He then rose to his feet, and glared about him
fiercely, passing his hands before his eyes sev-
eral time i.

“ I have failed. My only hope is to lie in wait
for my men,” he muttered, “ and get him cor-
nered. Then, if I don’t find out what I want,
I’ll out his heart out and eat it." '

His threat seemed to remind him of some-
thing, for he went back, removed Eagle Eye’s
belt, and strapped it upon his own waist, and
tthen thruSt the weapons of the three scouts into
1 l

Laughing wildly, he turned and pranced out of
the camp, in the way a frisky colt might have
done, seemingr to be overjoyed at his freedom.
.His course he shaped so that it would bring
him to the tourist s’ camp, but he was destined
not to reach it without interruption.
, He had accomplished scarcely half the dies

tance When there was a whizzing sound. and a
lasso settled around his waist, and threw him to
l the around.

 with a sudden fury, he tore the noose”

  
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
  
    
  
  
     
   
   
   
 
  
   
     
   
    
   
  
   
 
   
  
    
   

asunder with asmuch ease as though it had
been made of straw, and sprung once more to ‘
his feet with a pair of cocked revolvers in his
hands, to meet—Doctor Deeringl

“The d—ll" the doctor gasped, evidently not
expecting the weapons. “ Put up your hands I”

“ He! he!" sneered the maniac. “I won’t do
it. Free again, devil—free this time for good.
We ain’t in Deermg’s private as lum now,are
we? Ho! bol I guess not. Id 3 eat you now,
only I’ve at other matters to attend to. But
you shall ear the toot of Gabriel’s trumpet,
soon—take my word for that l”

CHAPTER X.
DEEBING rams A DEAL.

Dnnamoérew livid with rage when he saw
that Angel abriel was prepared and disposed
to defend himself.

“ Fool!” he cried, stamping his foot. “do you
not know that your plan is fruitless? Drop .»
your weapons at once, and return to the cave ;
and remain there till I return.”

“ I won’t!" Gabriel answered doggedly.

“Refuse, curse you. and Ill let the blood-
hounds loose, that ni htly howl before the door
of yo1ur dungeon. T ey’ll make quick work of

 

“Hal he! let ’em loose!" the maniac replied,
with’a cunning grin. “They won’t hurt any-
one.

“ Why not?” ,
“Because I cut their heads of! when I got
free. Hel hel Mr. Deerin , you’ve lost your .
patient! Go seek another. 'm free—free. For ' '
ears I’ve been crazy, but, now that I am free
feel better. Twice before I eluded you, and
the Mother of Satan came to me and anointed
the spot on my head you used to pound. I’llflnd
her. He! hel then you’ll hear the trumpet. Hal '

ha! ha!”

And turning he sped away once more.

The moon ,went under a cloud at this instant,
and when it emerged Deering had lost sight of ,
“1535mm st inn 1" h cared i ‘

‘ursesonmy up 'y er , ratn .
his teeth together.‘ g g

“If I do not recover him, mv pie is dough.
But, pshawl it will he no difllcult matter to
capture him, if I set the right agents after him.‘
And in the mean time, the plan I have been so
long conceiving has arrived at something like
maturity, and it behooves me to strike while
the iron is hot.”

With a. villainous expression of countenance,
he placed a mask upon his face. and then struck
ofl? toward the tourists" camp at a rapid gait. .

On arriving on the crest of the hill, overlook- '
ing the camp, he lay flatljtrfln his stomach. and
took a survey of the situa on. ,

A camp-fire was burning in front of the tents,
but no people were visible near it. _

" They’ve turned in. likely, Which is justas 3
Well for my purpose,” he muttered. _ He the : r
tried a similar plan to that of Angel Gabriel};
earlier in the evening—hurled a stone down int-
to camE. The fall of the stone arousing no one,
he bol 1y descended into the camp, and began
to reconnoiter, cautiously. ‘ . '

The larger of the tents seemed to strikehis

 
  
  
  

 

  
  
  

    
   
  
  
 

    
   

 
 

 

 

 
   

 

fancy the meat. and  a 

,u.

  

   
 
 
 

hunting-knife from his belt, he cut a slit in one

side of the tent large enough toadmit of the

of a man‘s body without trouble.

« He then stood still and listened, to learn if the
noise thereby occasioned had aroused any of the
occupants of the tent. No stir being audible,
he waited a matter of ten minutes longer—then
_ _; » parted the canvas, and peered within.

" . ' Lord Mt. Morey lay with his head close to the
aperture, a fact which seemed to increase
Deefiin ’s satisfaction, for his eyes gleamed,
wrc y.

Seizing the baronet around the throat with a
vise-like gri ,he hauled him from the tent,
and then quickly thrust the muzzle of a revol—
ver into his mouth.

“ There! silence, now!" he commanded, stern-
ly. “ Utter but a single peep, and I blow your

‘ brains out.”

«y Mt. Morey was a coward at heart and grew
white with fear. Indeed, most any mortal
would scarcely have envied him his position.

“That’s the ticket,” the doctor said, as he

witnessed this obedience. “ Now, then, put up

your paws, above your head, and follow me to
the top of yonder hill, where we will sit down
and have a confidential chat on business.”

And he proceeded to walk off up the hill,

,. backward, still keeping one hand on his lord-

’Bhip’s shoulder and the revolver muzzle between
 his 1i Mt. Morey followed with lamb-like
submission, and altogether it was a moving tab—
leau such as had never been seen on that prairie,
before.

_ When they reached the crest of the hill, the
doctor motioned his lordship to a seat upon the
grass, and assumed a like position himself, not

orgetting, however, to keep his man covered.

“There! we’re by ourselves, now,” he an-
nounced, with a chuckle of deli ht. “I Went

down and tuk you, par? clever ike, didn’t I?”

. .- “I cannot understan the meaning of this

‘  strange and unwarrantable indignity,” his lord-
, shipgrowled half in an r, half in fear.

~- ‘ hi probably not,” eering answered with

   
  
   
   
  
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
   
  

slips inter ther next world w’at don’t expect it
ti it comes, kinder suddint like.”
“ What! you don’t mean to murder me?” the
nobleman demanded, in horror.
“Well, that depends how you act,” the doctor
averred. "‘ If you answer all my questions,
‘ business-like, and make everything as clear as
'. Taos lubricatln’ 011. I onine 1 may let you re~
. tain ssron of your ethereal substance awhile
longer. But if you E: to actin’ up muleish,
I’ll guarantee your ggage will pass over
Canaan’s suspensron. bridge without any re-
checking or transfemng w fever—you bet!”

“ Go r11, 1 will answer any question in my
power,” mt, Morey humbly answered, his eyes
never once leaving the I‘PVOIWTV

“Oh! ye will, eh?” Well, then, we’llresort to
siness.. You’re Lord Mt. Morey, *1 high'COQk-
010mm from the Island. eh ?’

y “I am Lord Mt. More ." '

‘ « “Eev been t'ravelin‘ a I over the U. 8., eh?”
»“ I have traveled extemdvel y m enca.”

“ Been searchin’ fer some one?”
a; haw-n >

wearer-thing tex- some one?”

 
   
  
   
  
   
    
 
  
  
     
     
  
     
 

     
 

 

 

Wild frank. the huchskin firavo.

provoking composure. ~ " Thar’s manya man as '

 

“ Exactly, sir.”

“Found him?”

“ I have not.”

“ Revere was the name, eh?”

“Yes—do you know him?”

“ Shut up. What do you want of him?”

“ That, sir, is In private business.”

“Look out! TeIl me just the solid facts of the
case or I’ll perforate you.”

“ What can it matter to you ?”

“A great deal. Answer my question—what
do you want of Ralph Revere?”

Mt. Morey was silent a moment.

“ It c.:nnot hurt to tell you, as I see,” he said.
“I want Revere to prove an heirship. Years
ago he fled from England to this country, to
evade justice. Shortly afterward a heavy leg-
acy was bequeathed, as we first suppmed to his
wife, but afterward found to his daughter. Re-
vere’s flight had crazed his wife, and she was
the inmate of a private asylum. No one seemed
to know what had become of the child, which
had been left alone upon the world. so I took the
matter into my own hands, and hunted it up.
When I produced it, the executors of the de-
ceased man who had left the fortune, were sus-
picious and over-careful, and would not surren-
der the fortune until they had proof from both
of the parents. I took them and the child to
tlm mad-house, but the mother would not recog-
nize her own offspring. I then threw the mat-
ter into the courts, but accomplished nothing,
after ears of lawing. For five successive sea-
sons have since toured America, in search of
Ra] h Revere, but all to no purpose.”

“ he girl you have, of course, is not Revere’s
own child!” Deering said, in a matter-of-fact
wa .

“ Why not, ray?”

“Oh! you’d hardly lavish so much time and
expense on another’s child—unless you saw a
wide channel for reimbursement.”

Mt. Morey smothered an oath.

“ That matters not, sir. You know where
Revere is, do you?”

“ 0h! perha s-Lagain perhaps not.” .

“ What W' tempt you to tell his where-
abouts?”

“ I am not prepared to set terms tonight.
Who has char e of the fortune?” ,

“An Englis repxcsrntatn‘e of the party is
on his we to join me upon the way East, now
in a few ays.”

“()hl then I‘ll wait,” Deering said. “ I’ll see
you again. And he arose abruptly and took

is leave.

 

CHAPTER XI.
THE FRENCHMAN waxns BAD.
THE following day was a glorious one for

, November.

The sun arose in a clear dee blue sky. and
flooded mother earth with a brig. t3. warm light,
which glistened upon the prairie pools and
streams, and kissed the mountain tops with
Warm caresses. A dim, hazy mist or vapor
seemed to hang around the horiznn, and this
alone caused, a troubled expression to come to,
more than one brow, for it bespoke what was to

‘9. ' x -

  

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   
   
   
  
  

' show 26 Lord Mt.
’semblee not ze coward.”

‘ na'ntly.

 cowardly squaw to molest a defenseless girl,
~ even were I an Indian!” ,

. ‘_,‘ Yes, Alphonse Rubles, and it you don’t lower

 

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo.-

 

 

A' storm was but a,few hours off—a “ bliz-
zard,” as it was termed upon the prairies, which
is composed of a blinding whirl of snow and
wind, which lasts all the way from ten minutes
to five days without cessation. as the case may
be, and in which no son of the prairie ever
cares to be caught. For it is certain bewilder:
ment and death to attempt to wander in one of
these storms when they last, as usual, three or
four days, and it is equally dangerous to remain
still, iii 0 ‘9 place.

And although the morning was warm and In-
dim summer-like, it did not deceive the settlers

’ of Pap'inau'rh’s, an i they could be seen gallop-

in); over different parts of the prairie ocean in
quest of their respective herds, to bring them in
to corral. I

“ Biz,r Storm l” John Papanaugh said, senten-
tiously, as he stood in the doorway of the Ranch,
nnl with his pretty sister, gazed out over the
rolling expanse, which lay seemineg unbroken,
for miles to the eastward—as far as the naked
eye could reach. “ Bigger storm than comes in
years. Humning Bird mind Ranch—John go
hunt up cows.

“0C1! nol Let me go for them," the maiden
S'll‘l. eagerly. “Humming Bird find ’em eas-
‘ 1)

“ As you like, then. Hurry ’cm into the cor-
ral, or the blizzard’ll catch you.”

With alaority the Prairie Pet. as she had been'
aptly christened, obtained her horse, and was
.so >n dashingr away merrily across the duo prai-

,ri.2, l'ldlllf" with seeming recklessness.

' Sue ha seen the ten cows which composed her
brother’s herd, a couple of days before, in the
vicinity of the prairie motte where Wild Frank
bu! met the rone ade chief, S ~ar-Face and ac-
cor lingly headed er mustang in that direction
Hal-Y.

in the course of an hour she drew rein at the
c l :e of the motte, and dismounted. Entering
th’i timber she becran a hasty search for the cat—
tlx,‘ singing the while with touching sadness in
11 El‘ tone.

Siio was perhaps thinking more about Wild
Frank than of her errand, for, without being on
her natural lookout for danger, she ran most
unexpectedly upon a. foe.

A man she met, almost face to face, and that
man hell 0. shot-gun levelel directly at her.

It was the C iunt do Rabies, and an exultant

v. Smile mantled his dish reeable countenance.

“ Ze graude catch!” a chuckled. “ Ze French
coun catch ze wild Injine. Ho! 1131 Ze Lord
Tilt/Morey t’ink 20 count no great warrior, but
he will find ze grando mistake."

“What do you mean, sir?” Humming Bird
demanded. sternly. “ Be kind enough to lower

your weapon and let me pass."

“ Oh, no,” Rablee said, With another villainous

smile. “ Ze Lord Mt. Morey say ze French are

'_cOWard3—-say 28 French Trend of ze American

'Injiue. I make ze gandecatch of ze Injine. and

orey zat ze Frenchman re-

“ You are a fool!" Humming Bird said, indig—.
“ I am not an Indian, and you are a

 

I

  

  
 
  
   
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
   
   
   
  

your aim and let her pass, I ’ll put a bullet in
your head on my own accord l”

liablee started as though he had been shot in
reality, and wheeled about to find himself con-
fronted by Lady Lily, who had stolen into the
timber unawares.

“Diablo! Ze Lady Lily here?” he gasged,
flushing, and not knowing how to excuse im-
se .
“ Yes, ze Lady Lily here i” the young woman
resorted, contemptuously. “ You area pretty
pupiéy, now. aren’t you, Gus de Rabies?"

“ e puppy! Mon Dieul ze insult, ma’m’selle—
just t’ink of ze insult. Ze lucky t’in you not ze
man, or I challenge you to fight ze uel."

“ Baht you are a coward and sneak, so there 1"
Lady Lily retorted. “ Young lady, you can go
on. I wish to talk to his honor, ze grande
count!”

With a thankful glanCe, Humming Bird
bowed, and then sped on to the depths of the
mo to. '

“And now, sir, what have you to say for
yourself?” her ladyship demanded, turning im<
periously upon her companion tourist.

“ Nothing!" Rablee replied. “ Ze Injine
roams in ze forest, an’ I hunt m savage and
make 29 grands catch, and win ze wager of 28
"ii-lord.” , '

“ Yes, I understand. You‘d probably have
harmed the inoffensive thing ha I not oppor-
tuuvly arrived. You Frenchmen are cowards
and ruflians, count 1”

“ Not so; he La y Lily is mistaken.” ,

“Don’t contradict me—I know better.” she
answered, with temper. “I came over here to
tell you they are packing up at ihe camp. pre-
paratory to movint7 over to a place called Papa-
nau h’s Ranch. fn the mean time, while we
are ere alone, Alphon e do Rihlee. I want to
come to an understanding with you.”

Roblee’s eyes sparkled.

“An thin to accommodate ze lovely Lady
Lilyl” e sai , rubbing his hands together. “I
pray for ze grande occasion when I may spill ZS
Berle, blood in zese veins in behalf of as Lady

1 .

‘ Bah! your would—be gallantry is disgusting.
Do you .know I’d rather have a grizzly bear hug
me than on, sir?"

Rablees countenance fell, and his gray eyes
grew hard in their expremion.

“29 Lady Lily insult ze count twice!” he
growled.

"If you call it insult, you‘ll get insulted all
your life. One thing I want to risk you—am -
or am I not the real child of Revere and the
rightful claimant to this fortune? Yoii can tell
me, and thus relieve me of the doubts that of
late years have assailed me, like a phantom.”

“Of course, you are no original,” Rablee an-
swered promptly. “ What 29 world ever make
you t’ink ze different from zat?” .

“I don‘t know. I could never make it seem
so. I have ever been in fear that I would turn
out to be some picked-up wait, to fill the proud,
position I occiipy.”

“Ze Lady iyneed not fear ze least. Her '
rights promise to be established as ze rightful
heir  he baronet, Sirfialph Revere, in wahort
time. ’ . a

 

yam Frank. the

Euckskin Bravo. ‘ 13'

 

“God grant that!" the beautiful girl said,
azing at the ground. “If I should turn out
not lobe, I would kill myself. Alphonse do
’. 7 .Rablee, why is it you always form one of our
PRNL and pay your attentions to me? Answer
me !-—is it not because there is an understanding
between Mt. Morey and yourself, that I am to
be your mfe,,when I come into possession of
hisfnrtunel”
‘v‘ Ze Lady Lin has expressed ze exact terms
{26 understandin .” Roblee confessed, with an
xultant smile. e French count an’ ze Eng:-
ish lady make ze grande match, and set no
v Parisian circles on 29 gm; «rice I” ‘
., “It has occurred to me such m1ght be the
scheme!” the young woman said, biting her lips,
andvher face paling “ But hear me, how, sir,
swear that fortune or no fortune, I Will never
wed 011—110, a thousand turtles no!”
"‘ V e will'seel" Rublee said. drawing a dirk.

" .“ You shall swear you vill marry me, now, or

. ‘you nevar go back to ze camp, alive. Zat is
«sworn to.”

CHAPTER XII.
RABLEE TAKES A MUD BATH.
“MONSTER!” Lady Lily cried, ste iug back,
» r face growing deathly ale. “ ou surer
Evalgi not attempt such a g lastly crime as mur-
eY’ r ' r ,
A 9359' love of mankind will ofttimes drive zat
man to des rate deeds,” Rablee returned,
fiercely; “ on say zero is no love inyour heart
1' me.
“ N01 no! I do not love nor do I even respect
Lady Lily answered. courageously.
, “Who ese is it you love?" the Frenchman
emandedhsavagely. “Show him to me—mon
hen, I on! his heart out!"
,“Bahl the man I love would not deign to
ht so contem tible and cowardly acur as you.
also. man as rave and fearless as all these
pmiriesknow." _

“Ztgflevill You do not mean as lusolent
u y .
. ,“Ayl just that very insoleut scout. He is
3 yideal of brave and noble manhood. To be
, re, I do not suppose that 1 love him, for our

quaintance has been no acquaintance at all.
, t I took a. real liking to him—indeed I did.”
“Then ze infatuation shall end now,” he cried
reely, raising the knife. “ Swear nevare to
, nk of 26 scout again, and 281‘. you will marry

, ” a 4 Or I will plunge ze dagger into our heart,
.nmiv and here. That Wlll settle ze ittle affair
of love, without ze trouble of a. duel with 26
Scout.”

*’ “ No: I would die a hundred'times before I

Would'swear anything 0f .the kmd l” Lady Lily
risfionded. 11“,Strike me if you dare, you. cow-
u v wrote I’,

' Eel—hm you shall see!” Bewa yelled, rush;
' n her with uplifted knife hke an mfuri~

« remained unstruck, for the knife was suddenly

from his grasp, and he was dealt'a blow be-

e-hecd, that sent him tumbhug to the
headferemost.

he scrambled to his feet he had the

 the dashing, Buckskin Bravo,

 

Wild Frank, by Lady Lily’s side, with his arms
folded across his breast.

“ Diablo 1” he hissed, his countenance flaming
with rage. “ Ze scout!”

"Yes, the scout!” Frank answered stemly.
“so now, if you’re itching for a tussle, I’m on
hand to accommodate.”

“ Curses on you!” the Frenchman gritted, rub-
bing his bruised ankle. “I have you arrested
for ze ’sault and we better .”

“ 0111 you coutemptible cur,” Lady Lily cried;
“ Oh, you big coward. Why don’t you fight it
out with a mom, if on dare?”

“ Mon Dwu I Ze nch nobleman vill neVare
soil his hands on 2e rude Americana I will re-
turn to me cam and have as scout arrested for
assault and so ottery." ‘ x

“ Ohl no, don’t be in a hurryl” and Wild
Frank leveled a reVolVer at the Chemist’s head,
“ If you try to sneak off without a ologizing to
this estimable lady for lyour ungeut emanl’y com
duct, I will have to ma e a hole in your head to
remember you b .”

“ To ze Lady ily I apologize humbly—to za
scout I make noncl” ,

“ Oh! you won’t, eh? Well, well. We shall
have to see to that. Throw down your arms, ‘
and I will box your ears.”

“ Ze verry zing, sari I have 29 gentle plem‘r
ure of making ze scout’s heed ache. ’

The alacrity with which the count threw down
{his knife and gun seemed to indicate that he
had had experience in the manly art of self-
defense. ,

“ Ohiyou will get hurt,” Lady Lily protested,
layin a hand upon Frank’s arm, anxiety de-
pic upon her fair, pretty face.

“Ha! ha! no—not by the French delegate,"
the Buckskin Bravo replied, with a smile. “ If
you watch sharp, you’ll see his excellency stick‘
lug head—first in yonder bog.”

Close to where they were standing was a
miry pool, more commonly known on the
prairies as a. “ buffalo wallow,” the stagnant
condition of which made it anything but ade-
sirable bathing-place, for it was about an equal
mixture of water and mud. «

Springing quickly forward, Wild Frank seized
the count in his arms and without much a.
gar-cut effort Bitched him into the 0], he v «

rst, his heels randishing wildly in e air.

“ ThereI I reckon he‘ll need to polish up a
little before he assaults you again, lady ” the
scout announced dryly. “ Have you a orse
hand ?” _

“ At the edge of the grove. sir.”

“Then allow me the honor of escorting you to
it.” And she accepted his arm and they walked
out of the motto. .

“ I can never thank you too much foryour
brave interference,” Lady Lily declared, glv
him her little gloved hand, after he had i -
lantly assisted her to mount her snow-m to
pony. u I____n '

“ No thanks required, ma’am," . the scent
replied raising the hand to his 11 s. “ The
words I by chance overheard more t eurede
me for anytrouble I may ever be put to 111 your
behalf.” “ _

Lady Lily’s cheeks grew scarlet. ' i - ,
“You must pardon me,” and the averted'hw

 

 

 

16

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravé.

   

it

 

face. “You know we often say thin s we
hadn’t ought to, just to spite a disagreeab e per-

“ Oh! yes I see. I Shouldn’t for a moment
have thong t a. lady like you could admire a
rough burr like me!” he said, his face slightly
pained in expression.

“ Yes, you should, too,” she cried, impulsive
1y, looking full in his face, with her lustrous
eyes. “ I do admire you as a true and brave
2: )ll of the prairies, and am not ashamed to own
it, and, what is more, I shall esteem it an honor
to have your friendship.”

“Thanks, my lady. The friendshi was
yours long ago, rough and unpolishcd, ut yet
true. If ever you are in need of a strong arm
of assistance, remember Wild Frank is the one
who carries it for you, when he is around. You
had best go now, for I hear 20 French cuss

' a—snorting and blowing like a porpoise, back in
the woods, and in his rage he may accidentally
shoot you.”

“ But, he will harm you also!”

“ Never fear of that. I’will see that he don’t
touch me. I overheard you say your camp was
moving to Papanaugh‘s?”

“Yes. Something has suddenly changed Mt.
Morey’s mind, and he has resolved to stay on
the prairies a art, or maybe all of the winter,
and therefore e will move to the settlement."

” It is wise. As I told you the last evening,
ere to—morrow dawns this prairie will be envel-
oped in what we term a blizzard.”

“ Sigh! I dread storms. Will Isee you again,
soon ‘
“ In all probabilitv, es. Au revm'r I”

And the Buckskin ravo raised his broad-
rimmed hat, gallantly, as she touched up her
horse and gallopel acet’ully awa , the mean-
while kissing her nger—tips to im, with a
2'0 uish smile. ,

ild Frank then stepped into a clump of
bushes, and waited until the French nobleman
emerged from the motto, and struck 01! toward
camp, swearing deadly vengeance against the
author of his troubles.

He was a sorry-looking.bein , dripping and
covered entirely with mud and s ime from the

001, his face as black and streaked with mud as
it well could be.

"Revenge! revenge! we grands diabolical re-
venge on ze scout,’ Wild Frank heard him
roar, as he struck outacross the prairie.

When he had gone from sight own beyond a
wave in the dun expanse, the scout shouldered
his rifle and strode away to the northwest at a
rapid gait. And, unknown to him, a pair of
eyes watched him unti_l he was out of sight——the
jealous eyes of the Humming Bird, who had
seen their parting, with a flushed lace, and
rapidly-beating heart.

“ They love each other!” was all she said, but
said it bitterly.

CHAPTER XIII.

m GRAVE AND ITS CONTENTS. "

THAT night the moon arose early, for it was
near full.
. ,Thesky was overcast with a faint filmy flew»
. » at moving! clouds, which caused the radiance '
. I ~ I '

 

 

 

  
   
 
  
    
   
   
 
   

the great luminary to shed a ghastly light upon ‘
the prairies. -

The wind was rising and blowing keenly, and
the indications all seemed to be thati the pre—
dicted storm was not far 011. ,

The moon had cleared the horizon about an
hour when Wild Frank dashed down across from
the north, and drew rein at the little rairie -
cemetery, with its single grave, where 9 had
sto ped the previous night. ,

’IPhe little headstone g earned startlinglyin the .
spectral moonshine, and the very, surroundings r
seemed grim and uncanny. =

“It isn’t exactly such a night as grave rob- “;
bers are sup to work,” Wild Frank mut- 3
tered, huski , as he dismounted and took a
searching loo around, “but it will have to an-
swer my purpose. By Jove! it isn’t 3 ‘ob I "
fancy, at all, either; but something to s m
that it will be to my advantagetoknow the con
tents of the box I buried here four years ago.”

He took a spade and pick from his saddle- i
ba 5, and commenced to open the little mound. ’ 3‘
e worked rapidly, until the sweat 
upon his brow. , i _

Once he stopped and listened, but resumed his},
work, a minute later, with a scowl. He had gap.
thrown out but a few more shovelfuls of dirt, 
however, when he paused again, and this time ‘
detected the scarcely audible sound of approach— if ’.
ing footsteps. 

‘ I thought my ears were reliable as ever,” he» .51
muttered, stepping to the side of his mustang,
and seizing his trusty rifle. “Some one is ap— ,
proachingl”

He swept the rairie in all directions with his
keen glance, bu could see no hin within the
range of his vision except the dun— ueéprairie-

ass. '

“ I‘ll send a tester. anyhow,” he said, listening
again. “ It may scare ’em off. It wouldn’t be
exactly to my liking to have an intruder step in,
just now.” - .

His acute sense of hearing told him pretty
nearly where the prowler was, coming along in'
the course with the stifl breeze, and. raising his
rifle, he chanced a shot in that direction, his
rifle speaking savagely.

The report was followed by a wild, strange,
yell—then all was still. , ,

“Thet warn’t no Injun squeak, nora death- , 
yell, either, I allow," he said, standing quietly, _
awaiting developments.

“ Bounded like as it it mi ht have been the
An ! Gabriel,"who blowed is trumpet when
my ittle hornet stung him. Hope it didn’t do
him much damage, whoever it was.” ‘ ‘,

Nothinv further was heard, and be naturally ' '
conclud that he had scared oi! the game. , ‘ A

Seizing his shovel, he a ain set to work, anda 4. ,
gen had the grave open and came to a rough ‘ "

x. . . 4 .

It was pretty well rotted, and he had no dim: * 
unity in tearing oi! the lid. ’ , ;

Within, fully revealed in the ghostly magma 
light lay a human skeleton, the wealth of hair '. 

 

yet clingin to the grinning pronouncing , A
t the rema us of a woman. . - . £
The face of the scout grew pained in ' 

 

don as the ghastly sight met his game, and ,
“pd hiseyes. ‘* IV , ; t

 

   

 
   

. “Poor M‘yrtlel” broke from his lips in a husky
.Viiisper. ‘God grant you a place beside His

one, for no purer angel ever existed upon
this earth. ”

He then took a little ebony box from beside
the skeleton, slipped it into his hunting-sack,
and re laced the rude coffin lid, shutting out the
view 0 the dead.

' _ Springing from the grave, he gazed around,

, sharply.

. ‘ , a No one was in sight; so seizing the shovel, he
V proceeded to fill the grave,nnd restore things to

their former conditio . ' .

When he had finished, he knelt in silence be—
side the mound, with bowed head, and thus re-
’ma.ined several minutes, until something start-

' led him. '

It was but a. flake of snow, fallen upon his
hand. But to him its message was of theutmost
significance and he leaped quickly to his feet and
into the saddle.

‘Awny up in the moonlit northwest a dense
gray line was visible which was approaching
with tremendous Velocity.

It was the .‘ lizznrd.

, “ Now, then, my boy,” Wild Frank said, giv—

‘ing the rein to his impatient mustang, “ scoot

the best you know how. It’s a reg’lar snorter

g like we had ten ears ago, and with us it’s
. . Pa .anang‘n’s or eath.”

nd as if seeming to fully understand the

words, the mustang leaped away over the

Erairie‘ at the top of his speed, and his rider

~ rigged low upon his neck to facilitate his
progress.

But ’twas no use.

‘ In less than five minutes the Whole surround-

ing country was enveloped in the vertex of the

blizzard.

 

 

 

, The blizzard struck Papannucghls Ranch soon
after the Buckskin Bravo had discovered it, and
. shook the stench cabin until it trembled
. throughout; , v
’ _Mo_re of a crowd than usual was congregated
Withm the Ranch to—nigh'thfor the warning of
the approaching storm had driven in such trap~
pets, hunters and herd rs as had no regular
abode, besides some transients from mountain
and prairie among whom was the male portion
of the Mt Morey party, the ladies having been
quartered in a. vacant ( abin close by.

The tWo Harris brothers Dr. Deering, and the
mountain outlaw terror zWyoming Bill, were
seated at atable In a further corner of the room,
drinking and playing cards.

The outlaw chief was disguised in a sandy
wig and full board, and though there were a
score or more in the room who were his deadly
’ enemies. they did not suspect his presence.

. The Humming Bird was assisting her brother
‘ behind the bar, and looked prettier than ever,
it seemed in the lamp-llght-at least so thought
a r 1) Harris, whose balequ eyes were ever fixed
 argon her. . .
, ‘Yas, et’s a reg‘lar old-fashioned blizzard.
'byeaes, an’ she’s gom’ ter make things hum a
‘ peopled days at least i” remarked old Red River
In, one 01’ the veteran Indian-fighters and»
invests of Wyoming and New Mexico—a {1r
» , roughaleoking old codger who (*<

 
 
    

   

 
  
 

 

    

Wild frank, the Buckskin Bravo.

 

 
    

11 , ,
show more scars than any man in theroom.
“ An’ et’s a right comfortable thing not to be I
out on the prairies tar-night, of a. teller wants ' A
ter survive, tbo’ here’s what did stan’et out in a.
consarned blizzard, ten year ago, for three mor—
tal days, and then come out hunk. ’Spec thea-
pards is all heer tor-night."

The remark set the inmates of the Ranch. to
looking around them to see if any of their ac~
quaintances were missing.

one man is missing, an” ten to one et’ll be
his last blizzard 1” Jim Harris said, in a low tone
to his com anions.

. “ Who? Wyoming Bill asked~“ not our

man?”
’Shl the rest have dis-

“ Yes, Wild Frank.
covered his absence ” ,

“ Hellol Wild Frank Waddle isn’t herel’? '
Laughing Len cried. “ He left camp this mom- ,
ing and said he’d be here tonight.” .-

‘ He‘s not here," John Papanaugh added
who alwa s kept an eye on those who came :1
went. “ e hasn’t been here today.”

" Then he’s a gene goose!” Red River Sam
averrcd. “ Hear it howl outside! No human
kin live fer hunt his we?r out 0’ this storm.”

“ Wild Frank gonel’ Hummini Bird cried,I
excitedly. “ Then I shall go hunt inn!” '

“ No ye won’t, nutherl" Bob Harris demurred,
scowling. “Ye ain’t oin‘ ter lose yer life fez"
thet skunk—not while lg'm hyar.” _

“‘ Nor is thar any need of It!” a voice cried, as
the door swung open, “for Wild Frank’s on
hand, in time for the picnic l”

      
   

   

      
       
     
      
  
  
  
 
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
    
  
  
   
   
 
 
  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    
 

 

 

CHAPTER XIV.
A RUSE THAT DIDN’T wonx.

IT was in truth the Buckskin Bravo who strode '
into the Ranch, covered with snow until he?
looked like a snowman. ‘

A cheerin shout arose from the lipsof hissev-
oral yarticu or friends and acquaintancesfiand
Hummi Bird ran forward and put but her
hands in. is, joyfully, much to the chagrin and
rage of Bob arris. .

‘I am so glad you have come back, Wild
Frank,” she said, earnestly. Then she quickly
added, inanundertone; “’Shl watch out! Ifeer
there is mischief brewing.”

"Thanks Birdie,” he said, pressing her hand,
and then releasing it. “ I wil bear it in mind,”
He had to shake hands with others whom he ,
knew. for all were glad to see him. , '

“Yes, I came pretty near having to make». .
river trip,” he confessed, in answer to many
questions. “ In fact, I couldn’t have found my
way, but for the sagacity of my mustang.

‘ Waal, I’ll j’ine hands w-i’ ya on yer good 
luck,” lied River Sam said, shaking hands; .
“ Heer’s wot’s been thar. an’ I know how audited .
curious a teller feels when he runs afoul of»; '
blizzard, an‘ don’t kno’ whether he’s wandenn”, _
inter Palestine or Purgatory. So you’re gain? .
ter celebrate the event 0’ yer escape by coloniz-
in’ a reg’lar old picnic, eh?" ~

“ Well not exactly, paid. I heard there was
going to he a sort of rumpus down here 
mm thought I'd he on deck to see it 1 son: '

.7 ldn’t work a fist in,” x r ‘

 
 
      
   
   
   
       
     
        
  
 

  

Wild Frank. the Buckskin Bravo.

 

‘_‘ Bully fer on, Franklin’, old alligator, nn’ ef

on want bachin’, call on Red River Sam, sir——

‘ e old war-hose of Wyoming.” .

5‘ I guess he wouldn’t lack backing," Laughing
Len re lied, “ bein's the majority knows whar
Wild rank lives when he’s tohum. So if thar’s
enny one got any bones to pick, now’s the time
to start the music."

Nota word was said by the four outlaws in
'the corner, but they went on playing as if they

_ had not heard the broad hint slung at them.
~ ‘ .They had heard the conversation, however,
‘ and knew it meant business.

" “I reckon We shall hev to postpone the ’plan
We‘ve been makin’ calculations on,” Wyoming;
Bill said. in an undertone. “Thar appears to
be a fearful bio' mice smelt” somewhur, hero»
., abouts. an’ I rec on ou’re ther ones what’s sue

' I’m so we , disguised. that I’m all

‘ Well! what’s to be‘done? Are we going to
let the chance slip?”
" I“ No, not exactly. I’ll tell you my plan. We

‘ ry-cau’t git Wild Frank, now—that’s certain, f )r

rds here. to-night. But, if we

he’s too many ‘
re:kon we kin snatch the gil,

work it right,

" V and make 01! with her.”

: “ Who in thunder kin reach the cave to—niglit,
' in this howlin’ blizzard?” Bob Harris growlo i,
3 not fancving the prospect as ha, listened to t l \
‘mourutul shrieks of the wind around the cabi l.

' “But one mm in fifty coull lead the way i.)
 the mountains, and we have that maul”

“ Who is he?"

‘ “ Scar-Face, the renegade.”

“ But where is he?” 1

“Outside with a score of the braves, crouch—
ing beside the cabins.”

. ""Then it’s a devilish good time for an at-
tack." Deering declared.

4‘ By no means.” Wyoming Bill protestcl.
“That’s too many fightin’-mau present. My
plan is this: You three se arate, Watch your
chance, and slip from the each, leaving me
alone. I’ll look out fer myself. As soon as y.»

v can, find Scar—Face, aul tell him to get real!
" for a. start. Then you make for the cabin wmr
otourists hev at up. and ca ture the gal for
me. Then ride or the mounta us as fast as ye
can. Let yer horses all be lassoed togethw,
with the red-skin in the lead, an’ he'll take yo
thr’u’ all hunkie. When ye get to headquarters
- that the gal no in the cell till I come.”
» “But what’s to become 0’ you?” Deering d)-

manded. ,
L “Oh! I’ll hang around beer a bit longer, au‘
catch the Humming Bird. and maybe raise the
‘ hair‘of Wild Frank. I’ll also try and bleed the.
, cussed Britisher of some of his superfluous cash
, before I slope for camp.”
~5The plan seemed tostrike the three outlaws
agreeably. and they signified their acquiescence
With nods of approval.
Jim Harris presently arose and sauntercd
about the room, took a drink at the bar, and
watching a proper chance when no one was

looking, slipped from the Ranch into the Wll'Ll‘
n ‘

bu without. , .
‘ ob Harris and Deering played another gamw
mikes with the dis uised chief, at the can-

as! n ‘01.!hi9h the named threw down

 

,we’d rcally kinder like to know who ye

the cards with a vindictive oath, rose from the
table and adjourned to the bar.

“ Got ileecezl, ch?” Red River Sam questioned,
with a chuckle.

“ Cuss my boots, yes—lost every cent,”
the ruflian growled, pouring out a brimming
glass of Whisky. “ Thet old cuss sez ho hails
frum Cahforny, but he plays like a cussed city
shark.”

This shot was intended by the outlaw to
throw suspicion from Wyoming Bill, and was in
a measure successful. After filling his pipe
Bob also departed, but not until he had hissed
in the ear of Humming Bird, who stood near
the door:

“ Oh! my proud sqnaw, you shall be mine yet
afore ye (lie. Remember. ’vo sworn to it, and
yo may as well accept the inevitable.”

“ B:th Humming Bird would die before she
wnuld marry you!” was the proud re ly.

“Thet’ll all do to talk,” he hissed? “You’ll
find the diil’erence when I get you in my.
1) over.”

Then he left the Ranch.

No particular notice was taken of his or J im’s
dog arture. as the three paras usually bunked in
an old cabin, a few rods from the Ranch.

Deering soon followed, and then the disguised
outlaw arose from the table with a swagger and
po :koted a large roll of bills.

"I’zn thcr boss poker-player right 11 from
California!” he shouted, going up to t e bar.
" [ cleaned out them three cayotes in ther
twinkling uv a lamb‘s tail, an’ ther dust 0’ ther
gm no’s made me thirsty. Will some '0’ you
tellers step up an” lubricate yer machinery wi’
prime old red—eye?”

it was an apparently honest invite, but not a
m in moved to accept.

“ l opiue. as a rule, we ncvyer drink wi’stran-
rs, pard, till we know ther name an’ pedigree
0’ thcr cuss we moist n with,” Red River Sam
remarked, in behalf 0 those present.

“ Oh, yo want my meaaure, do ye?” the outlaw
demanded, his eyes emitting a deadly sparkle.
“ Wanl, of you’ll wri$4iown ter Copper Flats.
California, for a desci ptinn uv a feller named
Jack Turkey. yo’ll got a fortygraff o’ jest sech
a feller as I am, an’ yo’ll l’arn his pedigree is
famous for playin’ poker, drinkin’ red-eye, an’
trappin’ cinnamon b‘ar.” ,

“ Yas, I’vo henrn 0’ this Jack Turkey afore,"
531m rctorted, coollv. “ but I’ll bet hoss-loads 0’
nurz'rots you ain’t him.”

“ What! do you mean to dispute my word i,”

“No! but I mean ter prove ye a liar.” the
veteran scout rejoined. “Ef you’re Jack Tur-
lrev, ye kin put up a cent ag’in‘ yonder cabin- '
wnil, an’ shoot it with a revolver first pop.
Thet’s ther kind of a kangaroo Jack Tur: ‘
key is!” ,

The outlaw knew he was caught in a lie. and
was silent for a moment, inwardly boiling with .
rage.

“ I can’t do ct. nor any livin’ cuss on earth,”
he growled. “I’vn Jack Turke , an’I‘m dry.
Bartender. set out yer orime old ,e-tingler.”

“Oh, jest hold on.” Red River Sam inter-
posed. sneeringly. “ Se 1ce ye ail-e a stranger,

airs, -
anyhow)” :

 

 

Wild Frank, the Buck-kin Bravo.

19

 

“I can answer that question I think, boys,”

' Wild Frank said, stepping forward. “This
man is Wyoming Bill, in disguise, and is my

,\ prisonerx” .

CHAPTER xv. V
A DOUBLY BASE DEED.

_ TH]: words of the Buckskin Bravo rung out
clear and distinct, and as he spoke he sprung for-
ward and shoved a cocked revolver fairly against
the outlaw’s face.

“ There! stand!” he continued, sternly.
“ Throw up your hands, or I’ll blow a hole in
your head. ’

W yomiug Bill obeyed, with a bullied oath.

“ You Me! I am not the man you say.” he ex-
ostulated. “ Let me alone, or you shall smart
or this indignity!”

, “Oh! I shall, eh?” Wild Frank replied, calm-
ly. “Well, I don’t just happen to agree with
you, William. You’ve been promisiiig me
various kinds of death and destruction for the
last three years. but it never came. So I con-
cluded to turn the tables, just to see how it would
seem. '

‘_‘ I insist’that it is all a terrible mistake!” the
chief again protested. “ Gentlemen, I again ap-
peal to you.”

“But appeal in vain,” Laughing Len su ple-
mented, producing a. piece of lariat with w ich
to bind his hands. “ You were never known to
listen to the appeals of men, women, and little
children, whom you and your red gang of cut-
,throats have slaughtered, and you needn’t ex-
pect any mercy, now.”

'He was securely bound by Len and Eagle Eye,

While Wild Frank held him pinned by the re—
volver. When he was fixed up beyond a possi—
bility of his getting away, and disurmed, Wild
Frank put up his revolver. .
I “ We’ll see, now, Bill, whether you are not our
man. Ah! yes. on look quite familiar. Hal
. V ha!" and 'ank re oil? the sandy wig and false
, beard.
A swarthy, villainous-faced fellow stood re-
vealed, With black hair, mustache and goatee—
avman the ugly expression of whose countenance
was a, sufficient mirror of his evil nature. ‘

“ Curses on you!” he breathed, as he stood
thus unmasked. “You’ve won, this time, but
your victory will be short-lived, you‘ll find!”

“ Not so short-lived as you’ll be, when I send
vou over to the fort, with my compliments."

ild Frank assured, triumphantl . “Your

little proposal for mete join you, had to de-
n‘cIine, Bill, as I wanted you rather more than
_ you wanted me. Is there any more of your
gang here, tonight?”

 “Were there a hundred. you’d not be apt to
~'flnd it out by me,” the outlaw assured, with a
. my

. r.
 "V" Obi I presume not. We’ll take good care of
53"“, Pet!” the scout said. with sarcasm.

.“bn Papanaugh had had a strong room built
Within the Ranch, purposely for the accommoda-
' ~ n “f prisoners. when, as was a frequent oc-
‘EVEDGE. the U. S. Marshal stopped over night
m ' c en route for the fort with pris-
10K?

    
   
   
    
  
   
   
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
    
 
        
 
  

   
   
    
   
  
     
   
  
  

 
 

   
 
 

h
5-, The cell was built of double thickness of
and  With an iron grated door, to

 

which Was attached an intricate lock, to which
no one possessed a key except John Papanaugh
himself. .

Into this place Wyoming Bill was turned, and
the door locked on him, Until the blizzard should
subside, when it Was Laughing Len and Eagle
Eye’s job to escort him to the nearest military
post, and turn him over into the hamh of the
marshal. .

Loud was the rejoicing at the Ranch the re-
mainder of that‘stormy night, over the capture
of the notorious outlaw and rufliaui whose ter—
rible deeds for three years and over. had thrown
the surrounding country into a state of dread
and fear.

Wild Frank. of course, was the lion of the
occasion as bein the captor, and was landed
with praise and t anked generally for his dur-
ing deed—for it was a deed of daring to face a
human tiger of Wyoming Bill's stamp, whose
hand was stained with the blood of scores of
men.

No thought of further danger seemed to
dwell with the rejoicing party until out in the
wild storm of the night a piercing scream rung
out, and Lord Mt. Morey sta gered from the
bar where he was standing, wit a face as white
as death. _

“Lillian! my God, some harm is come to my
ward!” he cried.

Every man leaped toward the door, and out
into the night. weapons in hand, Wild Frank
leading off, with a stran e. vengefi I cry.

The cabin where the we ladies of the tourist
party had been quartered was not a dozen yards ‘
from the Ranch, and toward it Wild rank
darted through the furious storm accompanied
by a dozen of the men.

In almost less time than it takes to relate it,
the cabin was reached and entered, and there,
lying upon the floor, they found Lady MtuMo-
rcy scalpless‘and with a knife driven through
her heart—dead!

Lady Lillian was gone!

“Great Godl this is fearful!” Wild Frank
cried. “Boys, look to the woman. I’m off
after the girl.’ .

“Sto ! it is madness to think of entering the
blizzar l” Laughing Len cried.

“Mad or no mad. I‘m going to rescue the
young lady I” was the fierce reply. “ Scar-
Face and his infernal gang has done this work,
and my mustang will mighty quick pick their
trail. If I come back with thevgirl, all right.
If I don’t, ye’ kin look for me in yoming Bill’s
stronghold 1” ‘

And as he-finished speaking, the intre id scout
leaped forth once more into the howling lizzard,
rifle in hand. , ‘

Nothing could he see in the bhnding vortex
of frozen fenthe sleet. but he knew the loca-
tion of the corral rain the cabin, and had little
difficulty in reaching it. , .

A shrill whistle brought his faithful mustang
to his side, and he was upon his back in a Jury,
and dashing oil? to the northwest without sadd e
or bridle, and with his hatnn'der his hunting-
shirt, his long hair flashing Wildly hack in the
breeze. . . '

A very hurricane was blowm , and the stin w ,
ing particles of from rain cut is face untiht , ’

u

 

 

 

   
 

  

 

 

 

so

 

Wild Frank. the Buckskin Bravo.

 

caused him intense pain. but he never faltered
or ceased to urge his faithful animal on.

He knew that the outlaw stron hold was
somewhere in the mountains, and he new they
would la their course in that direction.

He ha accordingly aimed in a like course on
starting from the Ranch.

Well he knew his trusty mustang would not
vary an iota from the way he was headed, until
guided different, and he t erefore never turned
his head, but allowed him to keep straight on,
feeling confident that he must in a short While
overtake the fugitives.

Stygian darkness reigned supreme in addition
tenths storm, making it utterly impossible to see
a ea . '

Fully an hour the scout kept desperately on,
hopes of overtaking the savages strong in his
breast; but the further he went the more furi-
Ous raged the storm, but still no signs of suc-

case.

As a last resort he finally stopped, and dis-
mountin , felt upon the snow with his hand,
movin or some distance right and lef t.

‘f M either find their trail, ’ he muttered, “ or
lose myself in the blizzard, and perish.”

Ten minutes of search elapsedflthen he uttered

a cry.

He had found where many horses’ feet had
trodden in the snow, but recently.

“Smell. Startlei” he cried, shoving his saga-
cious mustang’s nose into the snow. Now, old
boy. follow-or die!”

He remounted, and with his nose close to the

ouud the mustang leaped away like a blood-

ound on the trail.

CHAPTER XVI.
A BAKING FEAT.

Tm: surprise upon the two ladies. and the ca
ture of Lady Lily had been sudden and quic ,
and the poor girl found herself bound hand and
foot and in the hands of Jim Harris, almost be-
fore she had time to know what was occurring.

While Scar-Face was securing the scalp of
Lady Mt. Morey, Harris bore Lady Lily from
the cabin and handed her to his brother Bob,
who was upon horseback near the door, as were
also Deering and a score of horribly painted
savages.

The whole tragedy did not consume five mo-
meuts, ere the party were dashing away.

Lady Lily managed to scream, just as they
were passing the Ranch, but after that Bob
Harris held his rough hand closely over her
month, until they had left the settlement far
behind.

“ Now, then. my beauty, you can yell if ye
want to ” he said. taking away his hand. with a
brutal lau h. “I reckon tho’ the storm kin
scream nig onto a notch higher than you can.”

In utter horror, poor Lady Lily could not ut~
ter a sound but trembled in fear and aflright.

The cavalcade moved over the prairie abreast,
the mustan 3 being lariated together through
the bits— except Scar-Face’s, who led the

wa .

Ilsa chanced that Bob Harris was the outer
horseman on the left hand, Deering being next,
and then the red-skins, Jim Harris having the

  

 

Thus they dashed on, at a rapid gallo ,the
renegade chief keeping only a few yards n ad-
vance, and “feeling’ the way. Life—ion ac-

quaintance with the prairie between a -
naugh’s and the mountains put it in his power, 

if necessary, to accomplish the whole distance
with his eyes shut.

“ What are you going to do with me?” Lady
Lily final} ' managed to ask of her ruifianly cap-
tor. ” W y am I thus taken away from my
friends?”

“ Waal, as this ain’t a night fer answerin’ rid-
dles. I don’t know.” Bob Harris replied. " I
’spcct, however, Bill calkerlates ter make awife
outcn you when he gits hum l"

“ Bill? Who is he, )rayi”

“ Why, Wyoming ill, to be sure! Ain’t ye
never hccrd of him? Ef ye ain’t, it’s a wonder,
flor he’s ther worst outlaw we’ve got on the bar
r or.

“ Heaven help me, then! Surely you are not
going to place me in the power of such a
wrote-h?”

“ Waal. yes, I reckon them‘s the orders—that
is, of the captain turns up at headquarters.”

“ Are you outlaws?”

“ We have that honor," Bob returned, dryly;
then he and Deering laughed loudly.

On, on, dashed the strange cavalcade of storm
riders, accomplishing mile after mile of the dis-
tame between the settlement and the hills.

Lady Lily grew very cold, as the merciless
storm bent against her, but stood it bravely,
rather than to ask for a share of her rough cap-
tor’s blanket.

“ I reckon ther captain cut his own windpipe,
to—night,” Deering said. as they rode along.

“ Why so?" Bob Harris demanded.

“Because, he’ll like as not git inter a. row at
the Ranch. I shouldn't wonder. whenI come to
think of it, of lVild Frank ‘spicioned him, the
way he spoke about a picnic, and et they were
to ever find him out, Bill’d hev a slim chance, I
tell you."

“ Pshaw! ten to one you’ll see him along with
us ere we get to the hills.”

“ Mebbe—mebbe not,” the doctor rejoined.
“ Anyhow, at he don’t come back, ye can set me
down as capt’in.” r

“It’ll likely take more’n one to daride that
question Ef Bill turns up his toes, heer’s what
turns Mormon, an’ marries this gal, an’ the
Humming Bird, too.”

“ No women on my plate, ef ve please,” Deer-
ing answered sarcastically. “ I‘d ruther hev a
mule-loud o’ sage-bushes tied to my back.”

“ Thar’s whar We can’t agree!” was Bob’s re-
joinder.

“I pray to God that the noble scout, Wild
Frank, may come to my rescue." Lady Lily
breathed. shuddering as she contemplated her
fate if not taken from the power of these moun-
tain outlaws.

“ Waal. ye needn’t hope in thet direction.”
Harris chuckled. “ fer Wild Frank don’t come

nosin’ around the hills arter us, fearin’ he’ll git . /

shot.”

"‘ I don’t believe he is capable of fear—he is Io-

brave and dauntless.” _ " ,.
“ Wanl. ye jest chew on at, my gal—his b111-
wr won’t never to you be any 00d.” - ' ,

 

 

 

 

  

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
  

 
 

 
 
  

   

 

 

 

I ' “ Matter?" the

 

 

 

 

Wild  the Buckskin Bravo.

#1

 

Then there was another long ause in conver-
sation, during which the Win shrieked more
horribly and the biting storm tore ovar the prai-
rie with redoubled fury.

' “ Hzflc!” Deering suddenly cried. “ I thought
I heard a. yelL “ ll bet a copper the capt’in is
after us!" I
V “ Yas, robably,” Hams grunted. “ I al-
lowed he's find it too warm at the Ranch for
comfort."

A horse‘s hoof-strokes distinguishable from
those of the cavalcade, were plainly heard, and
soon after a horseman dashed along a few yards
to the left of Bob Harris. Who he was the ruf-
flan could not have told, however, had he been
only a few feet from his face, owing to the den—
sity of the whirling flakes.

“ Hello! is it you, Bill?” Deerin howled
through his hands above the shrie of the
‘storm.

“ Blazes, yes!" was the hoarse, ruff reply, as
the horseman drew nearer. “ ev ye got the
gal all safe?"

“ Yes; heer she is! Whar’s Humming Bird?”
Bob Harris bellowed.

“ At Papanaugh’s. I barely got out o’ the
cussed place with my life. Wild Frank of. cued
on me, an’ I knifed him and skipped. Let me
hev the gel. I’ve got a blanket for her.”

“ I’m cussed glad ye want her,” Bob Harris
cried, “ for she’s heavy.”

Then, in the midst of theblinding flurry the
new-comer gallOped alongSide and took fiady
Lily in his arms, and at the same time Bob Har-
ris received a blow alongside the head that
caused him to grow dizzy.

“ Thunder and lightning! what d’ye mean by
hitting me?” he roared.

There was no answer.

Lady Lily’s new captor had wheeled his horse
abruptly and disappeared like a flash over the
hack trail.

“ What’s the rip?” Deering demanded, as Har-
ris swore frightfully.

rufiian roared. “ Why, blast
it, the captain snatched the gal, punched me be—
side the head and’s gone!"

“Furies! It wasn’t the ca tain! He’d never
do that. We ve been overta en by Wild Frank
and robbed of our prize!” Deering yelled.

It was even so! The Buckskin Bravo had
hunted down the outlaws, rode up to them, and
cunningly obta ned possession of the girl, and,
even as the outlaw came to a halt to talk, he
was skimming away through the storm, oyer
the back trail, his faithful mustang lea mg
along as if he knew and felt the triumph o the
victory. _

Lady Lily opuld not see the face of her new
captor. so furious was the storm, but she felt
that she eculd not have fallen into worse hands
than she had been rescued from,

“ Who are you, sir?” she asked, as they dashed
along. “ Surely you are not the terrible outlaw

. chief?”

‘ ,“ Oh, no I” the brave scout answered, as he
freed her hands and feet, so that she could ride
easier. “ I am one who would go through fire

» r and’water to win your humblest smiles. I am

- Wild Frank-‘7.

‘5 glen, Gad be praised, I am safe!” she cried,

 
 

 

and, impetuously throwing her arms about his
neck, she kissed him upon his bare, broad fore-
head. again and again.

“Yes, you are safe, and I am happy," the
Bravo replied, pillowing her head against his
breast. “We are not entirely out of danger
yet, howeVer for the settlement is far away.
Ve may not he able to find it, and would perish
in the storm.”

“ If you perish, I will not survive you,” she
said, hugging closer to him.

CHAPTER XVII.
THE CONTENTS OF THE Box.
CONTRARY to the scout’s expectation, they had
no difficulty in reaching the settlement, owing
to the mustang’s sagacity and determination,
and were safely in the Ram h before it was mom-

in .

§To due was up but the Humming Bird, all the
rest having retired for the night, but she wel—
coined them back with a quiet grace which
Frank knew was forced, and pre ared them
some venison and warm sling to lace them
up, after their long and desperate ride.

Lord Mt. Morey had already retired for the
night. in one of the many rooms of the Ranch to-
gether with Slick and Rablee, leaving t eir
footman to watch over the remains of her lady-
shi in the cabin near b .

iter thanking Wil Frank over and over
agaiii,warmly, Lady Lily signified her desire to
retire for the remainder of the night, and was
shown to a sleepin a artment on the second
floor by Humming ir , who then returned to
the bar-room, where the Buckskin Bravo sat
with bowed head, gazing thoughtfully into the
fire upon the hearth, his hat thrown off and long
hair rippling down over his shoulder in a brown
wave.

“ The scout’s thoughts are—where?" the half-
breed girl asked, approaching him and layin
her hand upon his head. “He thinks not
present scenes and things.”

“ Right.” Frank answered, looking up with a
smile. “ My mind’s eye was then looking into
the past, and then into the far future, in won-
derment and mystification, Birdie.”

"' Indeed?” the Humming Bird re lied, a trifle
bitterly, as she drew a stool brside im and he-
came seated. “In the past you saw the true,
fathful love of a humble half—breed girl—in the
future you saw a. pleasant home and fireside
with little cl ildi'en playing at your feet, but it
was not the half-breed girl who sat by your side.
No! it was the proud, pretty woman you periled
your life for to-night.’

There were tears in her eyes as she finished
speaking, and, touched at her grief Wild Frank
put his arm around her waist and drew her to
him, imprinting a. kiss upon her dusky fore-
head. - ‘

“There, little sister, do not take it so to
heart,” he said softly. “Your ima “nation is
excited to—ni'ght. Fist the least little it jealous.
And why? Did do more in rescuing Lady
Lily. than I have been doing all my lite on the
border?” I

“ N0, peth s not, but you won her love, any-
how, and you oveher yourself—you cannotdeny ,
either o: those charges, sir,” ' “  ' " ' ’

 

  

  

'22 ' wudrrank, the

Buckskin Bravo. ' y' ' l t;

 

~ “Perhaps—perhaps not. I will not deny a
growmg affection for her, Birdie. No stronger
13 it, however, than my brotherly regard for
you. But, as to reciprocation on the part of a
great and titlei lady like her, I cannot say——
cannot dare to hope for it.”

“ You would marry her, then, if she were to
consent?”

“ I do not know. The thought of matrimony

' has been the least of all my life troubles. Per-
haps if she were to consent, I should accept of an
alliance —with your permission. ”

Humming Bird was silent, her face buried in
her pretty hands, her bosom heaving with emo-
tion. ‘
. “ If you can be happy with her I will not hin—
der you,” she said, finally. “I am going to I'L-
tire, now. When you get ready, you know where
you usually sleep."

She then arose and left the room. Wild Frank
did not retire at once. He poked up the fire,
and sat down again in its bright light, and took
from his hunting-sack the little ebony box h}
had brought iron the lone prairie grave,

It was a pretty little trinket, about four inch-
es square, and the corners were bound with gold
brackets.

For several minutes the scout seemed undecid—
ed Whether to open it or not, but finally he touch-
ed a tiny spring, and the lid flew open.

The inside was lined with satin, fancifully
quilted in colors, and contained a document tied
with a silken string and three likenesses.

These Wild Frank proceeded to examine, crit-

' icall .

On}; was a young: man. of some five-and-twen-
ty years—a. dark, handsome fellow, with a kind-
ly expressioned face, dark hair and mustache,
and plain but nasty attire.

The seconi was a woman perhaps a couple of
ears younger—ea fair, fresh-faced lady with
rilliant eyes, sunny hair. and grind-natured ex—
ression—a worn in plainly a fittingr companion
or the man, With purity and faith engraven in

the countenance.

The third likeness was of a. sweet little two-

r year<old girl. and Wild Frank recognized it
. with a low cry.’
f It was the icture of the same child he had
adopted on t e prairies. years before. of the
wounded stranger ——of the same loved one whose
grave he had visited and opened, early in the
evening. ‘
r Laying asldethe ictures. he took the paper
from the casket, an opened it.
’ It was written in a graceful business hand,
and read as follows:
- “Mm-mmm. November ~. 186—.
“ Tg’arhomgocmr ti. mag ram-Mn : 7—

“Thls is to certify t. at the eiv‘ér of this box,

. Rel h Revere, of London England, has reeche l to s
wil , desolate prairie, with his little child. Lillian. an

’ outcast and wanderer in a strange land. throueh the
villain} of an‘ unknown enemy, and the alleged
tallhlessness of a wife. whose picture find here With
my own and my child‘s. I cannot believe my darlin:
unfaithful. now, but it is too late. 80 nothing seems
to tell me thatit was all a villainous scheme of Mt.
orey's to drive me from the country. , Something

" : owema to tell me that I am not loner for this
, world. ‘I am lootsore weary and hungry. God
have mercy on my, little child it 1 {all by the

1 {will write this and put it in the ebony

my child survives we I pray that whoevar finds her
will take her and rear her 0 irefully. teaching her to
l;ve her God and grow up to be a good and useful
woman. In so pray that the finder will mme an- _
other last favor. ri e to London. ut theCl/lVi'S
on the track, and find if the wife of ir Ralph Ra-
vere was t .ithf’ul to him If so, restore my little Lil-
lian to her mother‘s care. and te'l herthat it was Mt.-
Morev who drova me away by villainous lies, and is
is at Mt. Morey’s door my death can be laid. I will
go now, and s e if I can catch some fish to appraise
my humor, and my poor babe’s. May God grant

me success.
RALPH Rams."

That was all, but it was a Wonderful revelac
tion—and one that confirmed something of a
theory Wild Frank had formed since the tourist ,
part had camped on the prairies.

“"he conversation I overheard between the ,
Frenchman and Lady Lily is now explained.
She is occupying a false position I” he muttered,
passing his and across his forehead. “She is
not the rightful Lady Lillian Revere. as she
belies—for the real child of Sir Ralph was laid ’
in or last restingplace by me, five years ago,
in the grave yonder where the storm holds riot.
Poor Lily! She told Rabiee she would kill her—
self if she should prove to be some nameless
waif. But she must never know the truth, if
that is the case.”

CHAPTER XVIII.
TIT FOR TAT.

THE blizzard which had struck that section of
Wyomian Territory, continued to bowl and’
rage unti the middle of the fourth day, when it ‘
abated as suddenly as it had begun. and the sun
shone once more brightly. A great depth of
snow had fallen, l10wevcr, and it was worth a
man‘s life to attempt wallowing across the
prairies, to any given point, the fleecy body of ,.
{Vinita averaging fully seven feet in depth on the
eve . s

Lady Mt. Morey had been temporarily in-
terred near the scene of her murder, on the
second day, and since then things had passed

snowed up as they were, the inmates could do
little or nothing but can/drink and sleep, unless
it was to play cards. ’

lVild Frank was much in the society of Lady
Lily, and it was apparent; to more than one ob
server that the intimacy between the two was
fast ri emng into an earnest mutual infection. » ‘

Lor Mt. Morey looked on with sava e dis-
pleasure, but said nothing, for, while he cared
the dnuutless Buckskin Bravo, he was also un-
der obligations to him for saving Lady Lily;

istinq enmity with a man whose power seemed
as undisputed as Wild Frank’s. _ r

“ Let them go ahead with their billing and ~
cooin ,” he said to the count. who looked on ,
with ginning jealousy.
the bud, directly. I am dailv expecting to hear
from a person who will produce Ru‘loh Revere, '
~aud when he identifies the girl. and Waking-
ham pays me over the sum of one hundred »
thousand pounds sterling. we will take the girl

 

and light out for Australia. That will dissolve
mallow-match," ' ‘ 7 V  .‘ I

 

box, where some one may find it after I am dead. It I i ‘

without noteworthy incident at the Ranch, for, ' I,

and was shrewd enough not toaggra rate an ex- ' ’7

“ It will get nipped in 

I ~

Wild Prank. the Buckskin Bravo.

l

23 

 

“ But 29 danger, mylord—you do not consider
ze danger. Ze consummation may occur at ze
shortest notice.”

“Bah! no danger, yet. The girl knows her
business. If she gets the heritage and is proven
the heiress, then you can rest assured she’ll feel
too far above the Indian-fighter to even wipe
her feet upon him. If she should not be estab~
lished she might be £001 enough towed the long-
legge vagabond, if I didn’t, as her guardian,
forbid the match.”

“ It is certain she will be established? What
if Revere s’all no identify?”

“ Leave that to me to arrange,” the elder vil-
lain said, with a chuckle. “ I've broken refrac-
tory peo le before this.”

And t us the matter rested.

Mt. Morey did not deign to notice the Bravo,
and Rublec took good care to lidep at a. proper
distance from him.

Wild Frank had encouraged Jack Do Home,
a well-to-do oung-hcrder, to pay lover-like at-
tentions to t e Humming Bird, and the fellow
had done so with a. will, a result of which was

' that the pretty half-brch girl grew to be once
more'her gay, happy self.

No sooner had the blizzard abated, than the
sun broke forth with springtime warmth, and
the weather moderated until the snow began to
ra idly disappear from the prairie.

By the next morning it had so far melted
away that the crests of the prairie billows once
more showed their color of Frown, and it was
safe to venture forth on horseback.

W'yomxng Bill was then brought; from his
cell. and mounted upon a horse, preparatory
for his trip to the military post, in charge of
‘Wild Frank’s pard, Laughing Lcn. Eagle Eye,
Red River Sam, and Jack De Herne also went
along as escort, for it was two days’ ride to the
post, and there might be an attempt on the part
of the outlaws to rescue their chief, and save
him from the late that surely awaited him in
the hands of the authorities.

Soon after their departure, the other trun-
sient storm—bound visitors took leave, and the
Ranch was left weak-hamhd.

Only J ohu Papanaugh, his sister Wild Frank,
and the tourists were left at the hunch, to de-
fend it in case of an attack, except the borders
of the settlement, whose cabins were scattered
abou at various distances. Still, there was no
particular danger of an attack, unless it should
come from the reds associated with Wyoming
Bill’s gang, and it looked probable they would
lay low, as it was known that/tho United States
cavalry at the post was ready to take their trail
at a. moment’s notice.

During the day lVild Frank scouted about the
prairie, but saw no signs of invaders, and re-
turned to the Ranch, and spent the remainder
of the day in Lady Lily‘s society.

. About supper time he met by chance with

Lord Mt. Morey, outside the Ranch, and the
latter paused to speak, seeing which intention,
the scout halted also.

- “ I wish to say to you, young man,” his lord-
ship began, impressively, “ that your attentions
to my ward, are extremely obnoxious to her,

/ and a discontinuance of the same will be thank—

fully received by both her and myself.”

 

“Chi is that so?” Wild Frank replied, with
sarcasm. “Well, sir, I dare to resume that;
when my attentions become un enable, the
young lady will kindly inform me of the fact."

“ But she is very sensitive about wounding
one’s feelincs or she would have long 8 adj:-
missed you!" is lordship protested, angriiv "

“Well. when I et to see by any in
my presence is o jectionable, I will quit,"
the scout replied, coolly. “I have taken a.
great interest in her, sir, and I shall take care
glint vpur villainous game never brings her to

arm.

“ My villainous game, sir?” What do you
mean?” and up came the baronet’s formidable
cane, threatenineg. .

“ Oh! you can put down our stick,” Frank
returned, with provoking c mness. “ You are
probably aware I am not easily scared, sir—a.
long life in the backwoods has made me owl-
proof—to modify an old saying. You are play-é
mg a game, Mt. Morey, and a desperate game
too, which you are not going to Win.”

“What know you about my business, sir?”
the schemer demanded, fiercely.

“More than you think,” was the quiet reply.
“In fact, I know nearly all. See! do you
recognize that?” and he held up the likeness of
baby Lillian ,Revere within a. yard of his lord-
ship’s face.

“A thousand furies! Where did you get
that ?” he cried, grabbing for it, but without
success. “Tell me, man, how came you in,
possession of that likeness of her?” -

“None of your business, sir. I'll bid you
good-by. and leave you to imagine the rest.
Ha! ha! Success to you 1”

RAug with alaugh the Bravo passed into the

one .

For the moment the baronet stood gating , .,

after him, speechless and livid with rage.
“ Curses on his soul!” he gritted, clinching
his hands until the nails cut the flesh. _
“ I hated the fellow from the moment I first ‘
saw him, and now I have ,a cause. But, the! ..
lie’lllfipd his supposed triumph over me is short-
ive !

He hastily sought Count de Rablee, and drew "
him one. side. ' r
“ ’Shl” he uttered, in a husky whis r. “ Arm
yourself with a sure owder to-nigh -, and man-

age to drop it into ild Frank’s coffee.” ,
“ Why?” the chemist demanded, in surprise.
“Because we must be rid of him. He knows .

the Elvhole secret)? ~
0

“ Yes. Will you do this for me?”

“ I will guarantee 111 rival never sees to-
morrow’s run rise," the arisian assured, shown- ,,
in his teeth in a horrible grin.

t. Morey turned away then with a feeling ' .
of relief. I,

Just at dusk be lit a cigar, and tool: a stroll
outside in the early gloaming. , ‘

He had not gone five steps ere he came Inca to r
face with a masked man! .V

'CHAPTER XIX. .
A DASTARD’S ATTEMPT. -
Ir took but a glance for the lord to read;-
nize him as his visitor of several evening: "

 

mm '

LWlld Frank. the

Buckskin Bravo. i I. ’ 'x [l

//.

 

‘belore—for it Was, in reality, Dr. Deering in

u so.

' ' ‘ Hello! I was watching for you,” he sail.
' “Come along out of sight, if you want to talk
business."

Mt. Morey obeyed, for he was even more
eager to arrange matters than the renezadn,
~ who led the way to a secluded little valley near.

' the Ranch.

Here they paused and became seated upon the

grass Deering filling- and lightin a pipe.

“ New, to begin with, what wi you give me
toproduoe this man Revere?” he asked. “ Money
is money with me, and business is business. If
fiou come down in good shape, I’m your man;

you don is, I’m off again.”

- . ‘I'll give you five thousand dollars if‘you
. will bring him before me and my ward and

cause him to swear. in the presence of others,
that, accordingr to his best belief, the girl is his

. own daughter.”

“That would be impossible,” Deerinzr aver-
red. “ Revere hates me worse than analndian
- does a rattlesnake, and I could not persuade him

r todo anything like that. All I can do is pro—

duce him, which I will do for ten thousand."

“I do not want him unless he can be per-
suaded to identify the girl. 1 will give you a
hundred dollars to take him a prisoner and de-
liver him to me at some given point not far
from here, where I can induce him, by coaxing
or b force, to accede to my wishes.”

“ hl no. You are just nine thousand and
nine hundred dollars below my terms,” the doc-
tor declared, decidedly. “I’ll give you five
minutes to decline or accept.”

‘ “I do not need that time” his lordship re-
:sponded emphatically. “I ecliue, forthwith.
I gin}, not a. bank on which you can draw at
"wi .

“ But you are a dainty little game—bird such
as I occisionally make it a point to pluck. Ha!
ha!“ and with a wicked laugh, the renegade
dgew and cooked a. formidable revolver, and
leveled it at Mt. Morey’s hend. .“If you will
be so kind and accomnodating, my royal Bri—

‘ tish buck. I’d liketo have on hand over your
plethoric purse, and your c renorneter, diamond
~ ring, pin, and such other wallybles as you may
chance to have.”

f‘ What! you are not such a villain that you
would rob me!” his lordship gasped, in genuine
alarm. ‘

"I am sorry that necessity so compels me to
violate the biblical commandments," was the

’ cynical reply, “But such, unfortunately for
you. is the case. Either you must give me the
cosey little sum of ten thousand dollars for de-
liver-in up to you _- one certain pilgrim named
Ralph evere. or I shall have to relieve vou of
such lucre as you carrv about your estimable
person. and run the risk of getting as much.”

“ I’ll see you in Iceland before I’ll yield to
' your demand, sir!”

“I’ll see you in a, place of extremely (1pm)-
"Ilite temperature it I ever show you the man
you want." Deering chuckled. “Throw up
yourhands and let me go through you, or I’ll
put a, bullet into your cranium, and then strip

3‘33» Mere; were with e we curse; He.

did not for a moment doubt that the 1%
would be prompt to execute his threat, if pro-

voked, and his valuation of life. as compared

with what valuables he had about his person, '
was great.

Decring proceeded with his search in a sys-
tematic way which showed he had served an
apprenticeship at it. And after he had secured
all that was of any particular value to him, he
turned to leave.

“By-by, John Bull!” he said. “Goback to
the island and tell your countrymen how you
came over tosce the elephant and foundhim
tow homel”

He then backed out of the valley keeping
Mt Morey covered, until the hill hid him from
VIOW.

His lordship went back to the Ranch and
sought his room, where he could curse himself
unmolested. He had lost about three thousand
dollars in money, besides a. handsome watch
and other jewelry.

“Foiled again!” he hissed, pacing the floor
like a caged lion. “But, by Heavens, I will
fight it out on this line till I win or lose all. If
Ralph Revere is in this country, alive, I will'
find him and make him answer my purpose. To
that I solemnly swour."

Shortly after his meeting with Mt. Morey,
Wild Frank entered the supper room of the
Ranch to get his evening rations, which were
being prepared.

As he did so he saw Rabiee in the act of drop-
ping something into his (Frank‘s) cup of coffee,
agilch had already been placed upon the

e.
Susgecting his horrible intention, the Buck-
skin ravo whipped hlS revolver from his belt
with a li,¢.3;11tnin,sr movement, and fired, the bul-
let shatter ng the treacherous Frenchman’s
wrist, and causing him to leap about and yell
lustily.

The supper-room was the scene of confusion
in an instant.

John Papauuugh accompanied by several
herders, rushed in, armed with rifles, and were
followed almost instantly by Humming Bird
and Lady Lily.

“What is the matter?” John Bapanaugh de-
manded of Frank. “Who fired that shot?“

“I am the man,” the Bravo replied, com-
posedly. “I entered this room just in time i
to detect yonder bowlingr covote in the act“
of putting: something in my coffee. Suspectiug,
his devilish design, I shot him through the
wrist.”

“ How is this?" Papanaugh demanded fiercely,
drawing a revolver, and advancing toward De .
Rabieo. “Explain, sir, or I’ll finish the job
Wild Frank has just begun."

“ It all ze grande mistake,”,the Parisian chat-
ter-ed, between groans of pain, his face deathly
pale. “Ze mi-lord bilions, and he told me to '
prer‘are ze proper remedy, and put it in his
coffee. at ze end of ze table. I do zat, when he
rufiimi shoot me in 7.9 wrist with ze pistol.”

A“ Is this true?" Papavnaugh demanded. turning V
to Mt. Morov, who had entered just in time to
overhear what had been said. '

 

.“ of course it is true, only the devilish £99]

 

 Frank, the

Eucks'kin Bravo. 

 

has made a, mistake in the endof the table where
I sit,” his lordship lied unblushingly.

“This may all seem planSIble to the rest of
you, but I do not feel inclined to swallow it, no
more than would I yonder coffee," Wild Frank
replied. “ If it- is true that what his Frenchness
dro ped into the coffee was simply a remedy
forgiliousnoss—then perhaps he will not object
to drinking the Cup of coffee to satisfy my sus-

picion of foul play.’

“Pshawl this is nonsense!” Mt. Morey pro-
tested, blusteringly.

“Zis is utter madness,” Rablee added. “Ze
remedy cure biliousneSs, but be sure death to

any person who is not afflicted with 20 ailment.
I am in ze most perfect health—man dieu, it
would be no death of me!” and he looked all the
horror he knew how.

“ Your story is weak,” lVild Frank said.
“But I’ll give you one more chance. Let the
, one drink the coifeo for whom it was prepared.
If it does not kill him, I’ll drop the matter
here."

“ Curses, no!” Mt. Morey cried. “ I have
quite recovered from my attack, and it would
kill me, of course.”

“ Presumedly!” the Buckskin Bravo retorted,
“Your disease evidently was short—lived.” Then
turning to Rublee he added: “ And to you, sir,
I’ll give one hour to forever leave this vicinity.
If I ever catch sight of you after that, I’ll cut
your treacherous heart out 1”

CHAPTER XX.
THE BIRD AND THE VULTURE.

“WILD FRANK bi fool!” John Papanaugh
said. growlingly. “ ught to kill and scalp the
snake on the spot."

“No!” the scout said, calmly, “for it has al-
ways been my rule to give an enemy a chance
for his life. As I would disdain to cross wea—
pons with yonder wretch, I’ll do the next best
thing—give him a chance for his life, safely
promising him that if he ever crosses my pat
again, it shall be his death-signal. Go, sir—
malighaste, lest I be tempted to kill you on the
spo ,

A window was open at Rablee’s elbow, and
Without waiting for a second invitation. he
leaped through it and disappeared, glad, no
doubt, to escape with his life.

“And now, as for you,” Wild Frank said,
facing Mt. Morey, “ Whom I believe to be impli-
cated in this cowardly attempt on my life, I
shall extend to you the warning not to get
nearer to me than five feet, lost I slap your
mouth for You. and thus necessitate an affair of
honor, in which you would come up missing.”

Hethen turned nd strode to the bar-room, and
sat down as though nothing had happened_
., Mt, Morey took advantage of 'the chance af-

forded him, and returned  his room, where
once more he paced the floor in a state of baffled
fury that knew no bounds. .

Wild Frank retired early that night. for it
'was his intention to take a ride to the moun-
tains early the folloWiDg momma for a purpose
which he alone knew. , _ _

In fact, every one Within the ranch. retired
. ‘earlier than usual, except Humming—Bird. who

V setup after the rest had retired to talk 

her now suitor, stalwart, handsome Jack do
Horne. '

It was nearly midnight ere the herder took
leave, and the pretty half—breed girl accom-
panied him to the door to say good-night as he
strode across the rairie to his own cabin.

She stood thus in the doorway, the cool even-
ing breeze tossing her luxuriant hair, until his
footsteps had grown inaudible, and was about
turning to re-enter the Ranch, when she heard a
faint cry. -

With a start, she stopped breathin for an in-
stant, and bent forward in an attitu e of listerr
ing. The cry had not sounded more thana dozen
yards away.

“ Birdie! hel l he] I” shenowheard,distinct-
ly, a little furt er 0 .

“ Something has happened to Jack,” she
gasped, and ran swiftly out on the prairie in the
direction of the cry, notsto ping to consider.

And, scarcely a rd ha she gone, when a
man spmn up from behind a little prairie knoll
and seized er. ‘

She instantly recognized him as being Bob
Harris, and uttered a shrill scream of alarm.
With an oath, he sprung away, with her in his
arms, holding a hand over her mouth.

Her scream had been the si nal for two-score
of rcd~skins to leap from t e grass, and sur-
round the Ranch with hideous war-cries, and a.
fierce attack was made upon the cal in door,
which had been slammed shut. and barred, just
in time tovyrevent their entering.

It was ild Frank who had one this, just in
the nick of time. He had heard Humming
Bird’s scream, leaped from his couch of skins
and down the stairs all in almost an instant; he
saw the swarm of dusky forms out on the prai-
rie, and shut and barred the door in another in-
stant.

He was already dressed, as luck would have
it, not haying undressed on retiring, and, Seiz-
ing his trusty rifle. he took a place at one of the
loop-holes. on the defensive.

He was speedily joined by John Papanaugh,
who came tumb.ing down the stairs more asleep
than awake. . _

“ What’s the matter?” he cried, intuitively
seizing his rifle, and rubhin his eyes.

“The matter is that Bir ie’s gone, and we’re
surrounded by reds,” Frank replied.

And, even as he spoke the Indians without
commenced a fie ce attack upon the door of the
cabin with their torr ahawks.

“ You hear?” the scout continued, grimly.
“They mean business, and there’s only s1x of us
in the Reno", four of whom cannot be depended
on. It remains for us two to—u'ork!”

Papanaugh nodded understandingly. lie was
full y awake now, and griped his rifle With sav-
age determination.

Several shots were fired but were only an-
SWered by derisive yells. 'l‘hey did not reach
the so vaze attackers.'.

“ We must manage to reach them from some
other source, before they get the door down, or
our game is up,” Frank declared. anxiously.

“ Me got it fixed,” the half-breed replied, as
he pointed to two plugs. one of which was

 

driven slant—Wise into either door-post, the slant
being toward each other, and pomtinz to a

 

 

   
 
   
   
  
  
  
 

   

x

 

 
  

. Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo.

  

 

center without, oppOSIte the center of the door.
“Pull plugs out, and find loop—holes.”

This Was accordingly done, and a literal vol-
ley fired upon the horde of savages around the
door, followed b another and another as fast
as the two defen ers could manipulate their re-
peating rifles.

It was not cries of derision that now answered
their fire, but yells of mortal pain, and of rage,
and there was a general stampede from the
vicinity of the door, follovved by a brooding
stillness without.

Lady Lily came down-stairs, now, carrying a
light sporting rifle of handsome finish.
“ Am I too late?” she cried gayly,

I could hit one of the savage brutes.”

“We’ve scattered ‘em for the present,” Wild
Frank replied, sm ling. “ You may possxbly
have an opportunity yet, before the night is
over. Where is his lordliness?”

“ In the hallway above, crouching in one cor-
ner like a scared poodle,” Lady Lily replied.
“ I wouldn’t be such a timid goose as he is for
the world.”

For nearly an hour the uiet continued. and
not a sign 0 the enemy co d be seen or heard.

f‘ I reckon they’ve gone for good,” Papanaugh

“ I’m sure

said.

“ Don’t fool yourself. They’ll not give up
without another attack,” the Buckskin Bravo
replied. “ Ahl didn’t I tell youl”

A loud chorus of yells now peeled forth on all
sides of the cabin.

They had surrounded it.

” Now, then, each one take a loop-hole and
watch for a painted head,” Frank said, and ac-
cordingly three sides of the cabin were taken
and guarded. ,

After the series of yells all again became quiet
without.

What the reds were doing was unknown to
the three defenders for nothing could be seen of

, them for u ward of an hour.

 1y. n

Then Wi d Frank discovered them, mounted
upon their ponies, and riding swiftly toward the
north through the moonlight.

:‘ The cause of their flight soon became apparent,
as a band of mountain herders dashed past the
cabin in hot pursuit.

The danger was over.

A consultation was now held, and Wild Frank
declared his intention of going in quest of Hum-
minieBird.

, “ fore you go,” Lady Lily said, leading
him to one side. ‘ I want you to tell me what
yen, know about me.” '

‘_‘ About you?” Frank asked, feigning sur-

rise.

“Yes, about me. I accidentally overheard
the words between you and Mt. Morey Ill—lll‘Iht,
as you stood outside the cabin, and am pmifive
that you know whether I am the real Lillian
Revere or not. If you do knew, for Heaven‘s
sake tell me, and relieve me of an awful sus-

nse. .

“I will tell you all on condition that you
will consent to be my wife on my return from
findingIl-Iumming Bird,” the scout said, earnest-

xaeetiug you, and trust you give my honest af—
Ieetlo'n encouragement" I

l

haVe grown to love you sincerely since ‘

 

“ I do not deny a strong love for you, Wild
Frank,” was the slow reply, as she gazed up into
his eyes; “and ii' I am really Lillian Revere,
I will gladly give you my hand. But if I am
some nameless outcast—picked up by Mt. Mo-
rey—I will never wed any man; I will kill my-
self and end my—misery l” '

CHAPTER XXI.
THE MEDICINE-WOMAN REVEALED.

“THAT would be very wrong,” the scout an-
swered, taking her slender hands in his strong
ones. “ To thr )w away a life because you
could not command a title, would be utter non-
sense, especially when you would have a true
and faithful n‘otector in me.” V

“ Then am not the real Lillian Revere?” she
demanded, wildly. “ It must be so, or you
would not talk that way.”

“Pshaw! Do not get excited. I cannot an-
swer your question until my return, when I
may possibly brinrr Sir Ralph Revere with me,
and also his Wife.’ , ‘ '

“Oh, do not! They will denounce me as a.
fraud and impostor.”

“Maybe not. If they should, you know to
whom you may fly for love and protection
through life.”

“No—no! Gladly will I accept your offer,
Wild Frank, if I can come to you in bridal with
a title and plenty of money, but never will I
wed you knowing that I am some nameless waif
of the streets of London, picked up by Mt. Mo-
rey to further his mercenary schemes. I would
rather go away to some lonely spot and lay
downand die, in the consciousness that I was
guiltless of casting my humble lot with a man
of noble nature like you i” -

“ Well, when I return, I do not think you will
have cause for a moment to consider such arash
move. By-by, now! A lover’s kiss, and then I
am merrily oil“ over the prairies to the rescue of
the Humming Bird.” ‘

The kisses were exchanged between the strange-
I contrasted pair: then Wild Frank left the

anch. procured his horse, and was soon gallop-
ing away toward the northwest, through the
waning moonlight.

He did not follow the trail of the red-skins,
who, with their pursuers, had disappeared from
view down a decline in the prairie. but struck
off in a course which experience had taught him
wasa nearer route to the hills. ~

An hour’s swift ride brought him to the foot-
hills of a rooky range, and he entered the same
gulch that Humming Bird had entered a few
nights previous. and was soon standing at the 1
month of the singular aperture where she had

stood. .

“ Hello!” be challenged. through the, hole.
“Spirit Medicine-Woman ahoy!” /

“ What’s wanted and who cells?” was the al-
most immediate answer in an unearthly and se-
pulcliral tone.

“ It is I, IVild Frank, the scout,” the Buckskin
Bravo answered. “ I have come to beg a per-
sonal and immediate interwew with the Spirit
Medicine-Woman.”

“ Impossible!" was the reply. “ Earthly be-
ings can m ver gain access the realms of d'e-Y
parted spirits until after dent ." r '> ‘

 

    
  

 

 
 
 

     
 

 

a

Wild. Frank. the

“Pshawi enough of nonsensei” Wild Frank
returned, impatiently. " If you are‘ the one
who fifteen years ago was be n no of Su‘ Ralph
Revere, in London, for Heaven’s sake let me in,
as I have something of vital importance to com-
municate.” _ _ .

“ What cause have you for imagining me to
be Lad Revere?” the secret medicinewoman
deman ed.

“ Because I have pictures of yourself, your
husband and child, and have seen your face on
one or more occasions during my rambles over
in the mountains," was the scout’s prompt an-
swer.

Following which there was a silence of several
minutes’ duration. _ _

I So long did it continue that Wild Frank grew
impatient, and once more applied his mouth to
the a rture. I _

“ ell, are you gomg to adnut me or not?” he

asked.

“Yes, follow me,” voice a said at his elbow,
and turning he beheld a inatronly-looking
woman of some fifty years standing near him.

She was attired in a dress of buckskin, and
were her hair down over hcl‘ shoulders. Her
eyes were brown, and her face, though fur-

, rowed by time and its neighbor, sorrow, still
bore traces of an early beauty.

She led the way down the steps, up the gulch

_ a few yards, and into a black fissure in the
rocks, which barely admitted the passage of
their bodies. Following the fissure a short dis-
tam-e, they suddenly emerged into a cavern of
considerable size. which was lighted by a ruddy
fire burning in the center.

A few rude stools, couches of skins, a rough
table, and some pots and kettles comprised the
furniture, with the exception of a rifle.

Upon one of the couches of furs. near the fire,
reclined a man, who arose upon his elbow as the
medicine-woman entered, accompanied by the
Buckskin Bravo.

It required ’but a glance from the scout’s ea 1e
te’yie 1to recognize him as the lunatic, Angel a—

r e .

“Be seated," the woman said, “and state

‘ your errand.”

' “ i will do so. Are you the wife of Sir Ralph

Revere?"

‘ “ I am,” was therreply.
“And this man is—”
“ My husband, sir.”
“I t iought as much, when I saw him a few
nights ago. He is laboring underinsanity, is he

0t?”

“ No, for, thanks to this good Samaritan, I
have fully rec0vered. so that all is clear to me
and I recognize you 1" Sir Ralph said, rising and
extending his hand. “ You, sir, are the one to
whom I consigned my two-year-old child, on
that November night, fifteen years ago, are you

01;?”

“ I am Wild Frank, yes, and received such a
child. But, you were dead ere. I left you.”

“ No, not dead-onlv in a swoon. superiuduced
.by the faintness caused by my arm. and Want;
of food. I afterward recovered, but bereft of
/ reason to some extent.” . .

*“And you?” the scout said, turning to Lady

’ Revere-4‘0” you favor me with the facts of ,
“It?”

    

 

Buckskin firm").

this strange life romance in which I have had a
hand?” '

“I can,” was the reply, “ for I have compared
stories with my husband, and we thoroughly
understand how hasely we have been wronged
by the villainy of another. But tell me~is Lord
I t. Morey here in the West, as I have heard?"

“ There is such a man now at Papanaugh’s
Ranch,” “’ild Frank replied, respectfully.

“ And is he accompanied by a young woman
whom he claims is our child—mine and Sir
Ra] h’s?”

“ es, my lady.”

“ Then, what we most want to know-is that
our Lillian? You, sir, should know into whose
care my husband placed the little thing fifteen
years ago.” '

Wild Frank did not answer immediately. He
was suddenly assailed with a temptation to de—
clare the one he loved so dearly to be the right
and only Lillian Revere.

W'hat harm could it be? No one but he and
Mt. Morey would know different, perhaps, and
it might save a life. Then his thoughts reverted
to the little prairie grave. and a feeling of ex-
quisite sadness stole o’er him.

CHAPTER XXII.
A BITTER REVELATION.

“YOU do not answer,” Sir Ralph said.
“What are we to infer by your silence? that
our child is living or dead? ’

“ She is dead,” Wild Frank replied, gravely,
“and lies buried upon the prairie but a few
miles from here. After you gave her to me, I
took her to my solitary mountain home, and
there carefully reared her until she became a
pretty, healthful little maiden, of sweet dispo«
sition and winning ways. I taught her as much
as I knew how, and bought her books to read,
when at the settlements, so that she Was soon
able to turn about and teach me. She never
left the cabin further than to seek a neighbor-
ing peak which commanded a View of the broad
prairies, and when she died, of a sudden fever,
she requested me to place her grave down in the

rairie. I fulfilled her wish, and placed a mar-

le slab at her head, to mark her last resting-
plece. She was as dear to me as if she were in
reality my own child, and her death cast a deep
gloom over my life.”

“ How long ago did she die!”

“Nearly five years. I never examined the
contents of the box you gave me, until a few
ni hts since."

here was a short silence, and then Lady
Revere said: ’

“I will now relate my story, and we will
compare notes. Accordjng‘3 to indy. husband,
previous to his flight from nglan , Lord Mt.
Morey pre’udiced him against me by a lying re-

 

.

port that was in love with him—Mt. Morey
-—aud no longer wished to betled tom own
husband. This was the cause of Sir lph‘s

flight. I learned it afterward from Mt. More ,
who taunted me with the fact. About 1 e
sumo lime my husband left London I was sent
word that he was dangerously hurt, and lying
in a private hasnital in another part of London.
Leavin my child. in charge of my French.
39

 

nurse, hastened to the place,

  

 
  
 

,
*3".
u,

JR

. '15.

 . -.

 

 

 

a

 

evil until too late, when I found myself incar-
cerated in a private mad—house, hopelessly in-
sane, they said. Maybe I was. At times it
seemed to me I should go crazy. In due time
Mt. Morey called upon me, and offered to
secure my release if I would marry him before
I saw the outside of m dungeon. I refused him,
of course. Again an again he came with his
offer, and as many times I scornfully repulsed
him, until one day, in a taunting mood, he told
me lnw he had been the projector of one of the
most devilish plots over concocted, the result of
which you already can see—my husband driven
from England, and I placed in an asylum. The
object he said was to get possession of some
money which he first b'iliovetl had fallen to me,
but later learned was willetl to my child. After
that his visits ceased for a time, until one day
hevisited me in company 'with another man,
and asked me if a little irl, whom he had also
brought along, was mv c 11 l, winking at me as
much as to say th it if I would identify the child
as mine, he woull liberate me.

"Of course I denied the child, emphatically,
and they left. After that I was not visited by
any one except my keepers. Nearhr a year I
remiined in the mad-house; then I escaped.
You may rest assured it was the happiest do
of .my life. In a secluded part of London
went to work, until I had accumulated enough
money to defray my expenses to America.
Hire I came, in search of my husband and
child, praying God to assist me to find them.
Knowing e had always talked much of Western
A-nsrica, I came to the West in search of him.
For twelve years I roamed through the States
and Territories as an In lieu medicine-woman,
ever on the search. I had a knowledge of medi—
cine, an! by experience acquired more.

“Twelve years without success. Two years
ago, I ran across Sir Rtlpl’l, as I believed, and
found him a lunatic. I brourht him here, and
worked over him to restore his mind, but when
I WIS just beginning to have hopes, he dis-
appeared, and I did not see him again for
months. 'Thus four times did I run across him
and he escape me. feuv ni‘zhts ago, I found
him wounded, upon the prairie, and brought
him hither, and by the grace of God I have
succeeded in bringing back his full reason.”

“You are a noble woman,” the scout said.
heartily, “and He Who ever watches over us,
will ever after guide you into a happy pnfhWaV.
I feel sorr for one person—the poor misled girl
who has, sen taught to suppose that she was
Lillian Rrvere. She is a noble, sweet-hearted
girl, and my only wish is that she might always
be led. in the future as in the past, to suppose
that she is really your daughter.”

“ If she is such a pure, noble girl as you de-
scribe. I see no reason why we should mar her

oung life by not claiming her. as our own' 90
(mg as own child is dead,” Sir Ralph said,
turning to L'ldv Revere.

‘.‘ I will not object, dear husband, for I have

, eyes keen enough to see that our true and tried

friend here, Wild Frank. who cared for our
poor Lillian. is in love with this false heiress.
and I feel that we on ht to reward him. But
would we claim her, t. Morey, out of spite,

r

l

 frank, the Buckskin filmed;

 

would be likely to give the whole deception
away.” '

“That can be arranged,” Wild Frank said. ' V.

“ In your name I will have him seized and taken
to the est, charged with his several criminal
acts. on. Sir Ralph, can then visit him and
offer him his liberty if he will forever quit the
country and give up his game.”

‘ y no meansl I shall seek him as soon as
I am able and challenge him to meet me with
swords,” the baronet said. sternly, “ and if I
am half as good a man as I once was, I can forE
ever settle our account. I should never rest
easy otherwise.” ,

“ Do as you like about that, sir. I must now
bid you adieu, for I have a'mission in the moun-
tains that demands my attention. I suppose I
will Ssfee you next at the settlement.”

‘ es.
01d foe to-morrow," Sir Ralph responded.

He then showed Wild Frank from the cavern,
and the scout set oi! on horseback into the manna
talus.

He did not knew the exact location of the out-
laWs’ rendezvous, but was resolved to search for
it until he found it if it took a month.

He rode along the gulch until he came to a
transverse gulch. Here he dismounted and
picketed his horse. -

He had scarcely done so ere a score of painted
red skins sprung up from the sheltcr of various

trees and rocks and surrounded him with yells '

of victory.

Drawing his revolver, the intrepid scout be-
gan a deadly fire into their midst, and full half
their number lay outstretched upon the ground
8:181 he was forced to submit to overpowering
U C S.

“Aha! so we’ve caught you at last, eh?” a

triumphant voice cried, as the red devils were "

binding him, and Jim Harris stepped into view.
“ I allow we’ll have a roast up at camp now.
Dive hear, devil scout, we’re going to roast ye
alive 1”

“ Roast and be hanged," was the defiant an-
swer of the Buckskin Bravo.

 

CHAPTER XXIII.
IN 'rnn HUMAN morals DEN.

WITHOUT further parley, a thick banda e
was placed before Wild Frank‘s eyes, and or

was marched off betweenva group of his red "

captors.

Not a word was spoken, only the sound of
many footfalls awakening the echoes of the
rocky ravine.

It was fully an hour, as near as the scout
could judge. before a halt was made, and the I
bandage romowd from before his eyes, enabling-
him to note his surroundings.

The halt had been made in the interior of

a large rocky cavern. in front of the narrow en- ! '

trance to which was a level rocky plateau.
Looking out of the entrance the prisoner could
we nothin': but blank space, and rightly con-

.cln'lerl that the cave was near the top of a. moun-

tain, but just which one he had no way of learnfi

1112‘. I .
The interior of the cavern, which was  x

We shall probably go there to face our r

  
   
  
  
   
    
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
   
  
 
   
  
   
  
    
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
   
   
   
  
 
 
  
   
  
  
   
   
      
 
     
    
    
      
     

   

    
 

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo.

 

nished with furs,weapons and usual cumnappuré

ienances, was the retreat of Wyoming Bill and

his desperate gang of renegade red and Wlllte

Outlaws; but, alas! for the aforesaid band, they

had lost their notorious chief. .

Among those who surrounded him Wild
Frank was not surprised to see the Harris
brothers and Doc Deemng. He had long sus—
pected that they belonged to the out-laws; but,
until now, had not been able to obtain any
proof against them. _

“ Yes, this is our head-quarters,” J 1m Harris
remarked, interpreting the meaning z f the
scout's glance around. “ How d’ye like the
looks of it? Beckcn it don’t look purty wel-
come, eh?” _

“ Better git him a Blhle,” Bob Harris sneered,
“sothet he kin begfn tcr learn how to say his
prtycrs."

“ You need not trouble yourself,” VViltlFrank
retorted. “Ten to one you three ruflians will
no d to say your frayors before I will.”

At this the outlaw laughed loudly, and turned
away.

The Indians then bound the scout‘s feet, and
he was tossed upon a pile of skins in a corner of
the cave, where he was left for hours.

Daydawn soon peeped in at the mouth of the
cave, and he could see the red-skins congregated
upon the plateau without, and also tho. white
outlaws, and concluded that they were holding
a pow-wow—prohably concernincr what disposi-
tion was to he made of their prisoner.

What would be the result?

To Wild Frank it was apparent that some
horrible plan of torture would be deviscd,
which would end in death, unlcss he was rescued.

That no one would come to his rescue, he felt
certain, for his two pards were on their way to

- the military post, and there was no one else in
the vicinity who would come in search of him.

The rospect was therefore anything but

easan .

He was in the midst of contemplation of his
situation when he felt a slight touch upon his
back, and whirled around to find no one less
than the Humming Bird near him.

“ ’Shl for your life, don’t speak above a whis-
per!” she said, in a smothered tone. “ I have
managed to get here without attracting notice.
Do on know what they propose todo with you?”

“$10 more than that they threatened to roast
me.” the scout replied.

“Yes; that is just what they intend to do,”
the half-breed girl assured. “ You must escape
now if eVer.” .

“ hat is imposs1ble. Ifear,” with a dubious
shake of his head. “ I am bound and helpless,
) and unarmed.” I
. “I will free you of your bonds.’_’ Humming

Bird’replied, producing a sharp knife, and sev-
' cring the cards that bound his hands and feet.
.“ Now take this knife and watch your chance to

make your escape.”
‘ “ But yon—I came to rescue you, and cannot

0 back without you?"

“ Do not risk your own safety on my ac-
count,” the girl answered. “I have a better
gain. which will workgiwith less  Egg

 threatens to ve me in . .

- -  It I will consent to

 

marry him as soon as we get there. I shall con-
sent to this, and thus get lzack to my brother,
and then denounce these ruflians." '

“ But. is this not risky? They may force you
to keep your pledge."

“ That they cannot do. Before they can make
me, you can come and arrest them,"

‘ If successful in escaping, yes. It would be
a triumph I would crave.”

“Then I will look for you. ’Sh! some one is
coming. I must go.”

She glidcd away throth a fissure in the rock,
into some inner cave, and that was the last the
scout saw of her, in the rendezvous.

The three outlaws now entered, and approach-
ccl where Wild Frank still lay, as if bound and
helpless. He had the knife concealed in the
sleeve of his buckskin jacket, ready for instant
use, however, and was resolved to sell his life
dearly.

“ “loll, we’ve held a meeting.” Jim Harris
said, folding his arms, “ and the reds reckon as
how they ortor hev ye fer a roast. You’ve
killed sheep of their brothers, and raised the
deuce generally, and they allow they’d feel safer
('f you war evaporath in a cloud 0’ smoke. An1
so, as we’re under deep obligations to the afore-
said reds, we must rend our hearts in sorrow,
and lose you, our loved one.”

“ How long before the interesting ceremony is
to commence, may I ask?” Wild Frank inquired
with the utmost composure.

“You’ll be informed, as soon as we decide,”
Jim Harris answered, turning away, followed
by his comrades. .

hey returned in about an hour, however,
and Bob Harris said:

“ The fair Humming Bird has consented to
liecomo Mrs. Bob Harris, old boy. so you see
we’ve won everything. I start at once for mid-
prairic, where the ceremony will be performed
to—morrow eve, at six o’clock. by the Reverend
Doctor Deering, here. Part of the reds will
keep us company. The remainder of ’em, and
brother Jim will stay here, and tomorrow eve,
at six o’clock the fires will be lighted what is to
burn ye up. Ta! to! old Ion hair. I wish you
a warm and pleasant trip. rop me a postal-
cord when you cross the line, and tell me how
you like it.” ‘

“ Perhaps you will hear from me again,” Wild
Frank suggested, significantly.

CHAPTER XXIV.
A TIMELY VICTORY.

BOB HARRIS and the Humming Bird accom-
panied by Doc veering and a dozen renegade
red-skins. sonn left the cave en route for the
prairie, where the ceremony was to take

ace.
p After they had gone. and when the shades of

nightwvere creeping into the cave. Jim Harris
brought a. heavy blanket and lay down between
Wild Frank and the mouth of the cave.

The outlaw rolled himself in his blanket,pree
mmtory for a nap, and it was but a short
while ere his heavy breathing pronounced him
to beaslmo. ' , - I ‘

ThenWqui-ukm basement» 

\‘- I y . ‘ ._yv

 

80

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo;

 

before him. All the reds were rolled in their
blankets in another part of the cavem—Harris’s
body was the only obstacle between the scout
and liberty!

Grasping his knife firmly in his right hand he
arose quickly and softl to his feet.

To his surprise Jim arris did the very same
thing, and for the instant the two mortal ene—‘
mies stood glaring at each other, neither mak-
ing a. single motion, olfensive or defensive.

Till, with a faint hiss, the Buckskin Bravo
leaped forward, with a lightning-like move—
' ment. and plunged the knife into the ruflian’s
breast, at the same time clutching his throat to
prevent his raising an alarm. Dropping the

knife he then supported Harris back to the
ground, and held him there till his life ebbed
o t

u . , >

Satisfied that Harris was dead, Wild Frank
appropriated the outlaw’s revolvers, and once
more rose to his feet.

The silent encounter had not aroused any of
the sleeping reds, and he stole cautiously toward
the mouth of the cave, and soon succeeded n
gaining the plateau outside and the free air of
i rt

y.

“ Now then, to the rescue again,” he muttered.

“ The first thin": is to get out of the mountains,

and the next thing is to pick the trail of Bob

Harris and his party. After that, leave it to
me to step in and win the game.”

A few more scenes will suffice to close our
little life drama.

In the heart of a deep prairie motto. where
nature had left a little clearing, stood a group of
people, at six o’clock the following day.

First noticeable was Bob Harris, who held the
Humming Bird beside him, evidently against
her will, or she was crying bitterly. In front
of them Deering stood with an open prayer«
book. while the red—skins were squatting around
the trio in a circle. "'

“ Stet up yer snivelingl” Bob Harris was say-
ing, ‘f for t won’t do ye no good. Ye’ve not
tor marry me now an’ here, an’ ther sooner ther
better. Ye needn’t think ye kin git out of it.
fer ye can‘t." ‘

“ I want to go to the ranch—I won’t marry
any one till I see my brother,” Humming Bird
tearfully protested.

“ Ye’r’ goin’ to do as I want—not as you
want!” Harris growled, drawing and cockiur: a
revolver and placing it azainst the side of her
head. “ It‘s jest six o’clock now, and we’ll pro-
ceed with the ceremony, knowin’ that the flames
even now begin to tickle the legs of Wild Frank!
Ha! ha) Revenge is sweet. I can even now
smell his flesh scorching!”

“ Monster l” Humming: Bird gasped. /

_ f‘ Shot up !" her proposed snouse eruflly re-
plied. “Jest ye mind what ther minister sez.
Go ahead: doctor: let the funeral nurceed.”

AGCOI'dmzlv. Deerimz proceeded to read from
the book a marriage service, and soon came to“
the! query passage, which he modified to suit the
occasiou:,_

“ If thar’s may one present who has got any
 staunch take

 

place, let him step forward and say
ever hereafter shet up!” I

“ And I step forward, here and now,.to for-
bid the banns!" Wild Frank cried, leaping- for-
ward into the glade from the edge of the timber
followed by Laughing Len, Eagle Eye, and fa
two-score of cavalrymen. “ Stand and de.iver '
in the name of the law!”

The surprise was complete and overwhelming
and the Indians and two outlaws were scour
in the same time it takes to tell it.

“ Ha! ha! You smell my meat roestiu , eh?"
Wild Frank said grimly confronting Bob arris.
“You’ll have lenty of time on your way to the
post to join yoming Bill’s tight-rope per-
formance.”

Taking Humming Bird, Wild Frank soon after
set out for Papanuugli’s, While the soldiers went
into camp until the marrow, when a raid was to
be made on the outlaws’ stronghold.

On his way to the Ranch, the scout related to
Humming Bird how he had escaped, and, as
luck would have it, 11:16. fallen in with the cav—
alry, who were on the we to the hills to rout
out the outlaws. Len an Eagle Eye had also
met them, and sending the outlaw chief on to
the fort in charge of a posse of soldiers, had
come back to help take the rendezvous.

so, or for-

CHAPTER XXV.

MT. MOREY’S PARTING- THRUST~CONCLUSION.‘

ARRIVING at the Ranch with Humming Bird,
Wild Frank found Sir Ra] h and Lady Revere
already there, and Lord t. Morey and his as-
sociates gone.

The villainous nobleman had sloped shortly
before Revere’s arrival, having evidently got
wind of his coming, and concluded not to meet

one whom he had so deeply wronged. Slick and x, I

his valet hail also gone. .

The English lawyer had also departed, having -
adjusted the business and settled the fortune
upon Lady Lillian, whom Sir Ralph had recog.
nized as his own child. ‘

Finding everything all working well, Wild,
Frank took leave early in the mornin , to join
the raid upon the mountain stronghol. , promisu
ing to be back within a week, when it was ar-

ranged that he and Lady Lilv should be weddai ‘ I

and also at the same time Jack de Herne an -
Humming Bird. . ~ -,
The attack upon the rendezvous was successes
fully made, one night later and all the Indians
either killed or cactured. x \
Thus ended the existence of one of the worst
hands of outlaws that ever infested the wilds of
Wyoming. . r 
At the conclusion of the raid. Wild Frank and
his Di).de returned to Pananaugh’s where the ’
Buckskin Bravo received one of the hardest
blows of his life. ' -_
Lady Lilv had disappeared, and not a trace
could be found of her. '
All that the Reveres
Wns explained in a letter whiCh she had left
hind. addressed to the scout. .
1* read as follows: .  r
“WILD FRANK:~Wheu vou get this I 311311th 2‘ "
from here. dead. I have found out the deceit'thgt '
has been.me cam..wiwxex.m deal: as

knew about the matter

m,, . \_

x

 

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo.

 

n taunting letter culling me that! am not the child of
the Rcvnres but the d uizhter nfa ruin-drinking old
match-woman in London. God forbid. now. that l
shou.d ever have lived to love and by loved. when my
low birth p aces an eternal barrier between us.
Goodby, love. May we meet to know one another

in the nexu world. .
" Your betrothed—m death,
“ LILY. "

With the keenost anguish the Buckskin Bravo
read this, and foruuys, weeks—ay, even months,
he scoured the prairies in search of his lost
darling. but never found her. Then he plunged
deeper into the wilderness as guide of tho_U_nited
States exolari‘ug and surveying expedition, a
man with life lllll)ll2t€l‘0d—Wltl1 affection seared
by Death’s grim hand. _

Several years have passed since that memo—
Table season, and time denls gently With the
Buckskin Bravo, and not a month goes by that
is not iudelil ly stamped with some startling
scene of his wild career.

The Revcrcs returned to England; Jack De
Heme married Hummingr Bird 11rd still lives at
Papuiiuugh‘s; Wy'Ollllllg‘ Bill and his piirds were
taken from jail and lynched without any triul‘
Mt. Morey and his crew were never after heard
from; at this writing Laughing Lou and Eagle
Eye are up in North Montana trapping; Wild
Frank lies sick in Kansas Cit , Mn.—and here
we layour ,n in Its bracket. ight our sanctum
pipe, and bid our friends on rcvoir.

THE END.

 

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'l‘he \Vhihe lmllnn.’ l)‘ Capt. J. F. C. Adm-m.
lhu-khorn Bill. By Edward 1.. Wheeler.
The Shadow Ship. iiy (Jul. Pmdiss Ingrnharn.
The Red llrotherhond. liy W. J. I‘l'llllllhun.
"and Jack. iiy T. (I. linrhnugh.
llnrr cane Bill. By J‘Mth Ii. Imdger. Jr.
Single Ilnnrl. B ' W. J. Humilinn.
l’nten denther me. By Philip S. Wnrne.
The l rder Robin Ilnml. By llnil'nlo Bill.
Gold Rifle the Shnr whom-er. Br Ed. I.. Wheeler.
om Zip’n (Jam... 3y cm. J. '. c. Adnnu.
liy Oli Cumneu.
jind Tom Western. By w. J. lhuumnn.
Deadwood Dick on Dork. y E. 1.. Wheeler.
lluwkeye IIm-ry. My 0!] (Yunnan.
The “of Duelist. R Co]. Prellllgs ingmhnm.
Abe Co t, we me.x lur. By Allmrl w. Aiken.
Corduroy Chnrlle. By Edward L.\\'he.-lcr.
\Vlll Some". "In liny miscuve. By Chm. Morris.
Sol Gin er, the Glam Trnmm. Br A. W. Aiken.
Ronehll Rob. By Edwnrd L. Wheeler.
lehtnlng Joe. Iinu L. J. r. C. Amunl.
K" Ilnrel’ool. By T. I. iinrhmizll.
Rollo, lhd Buy Ranger. Iiy Oil Gnomes.
l1lyl, the Girl Miner. BV’ Edward L. Wheeler.
Detective Dink. By Charla: Mnrria.
h‘nrc Shot Seth. the Boy Riflenmn. By OllCoomee.
thr Sum. Hy J. Alexmldvr Indian.
The Jon ofthe Sen. By Ailwrl W. Aiken.
Photoarnph l’hli,tlw iim Similh. By E. L.Whealer.
l’lcnynne Pete. By Chnrhn Murr a.
Inland Jim; .»r.’l'h.- Pu ol'the Family. By Bruce-
hridge ilvmyug (.lurk ilnrknwn} '

the Shadow. By Edwnrd L. Wheeler.
Bv C-d. Pronilu iugruhnm.
Deadwood Diek’l Device. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
The Black Mu-tnnzer. My Cnpl. Mayno Reid.

1‘0 ()ld Fro-t , Ibo Guide. By T. C. l’inrhnugli.

H!
52

The flea
fieth Johan. .
H8 (‘nnldn Chet. tin: Cnnniarl’eiter Chlaf. By “'horier.

incr.

By Col. Frentlu Ingmhnm.
lly Edwhrd 5. Elm.

8-} Th6 Dlllllb Puc. By Cnpi. Frederick Winllnker.

//gEADLE

POCKE

manuwmwwumwmmmmmm

\ PRICE, nvrf arms.

’8

LIBRARY.

{Kmmmwé’mmwmfiwmmum‘h’ffiffi
By 5.1m rd 5. Ellis.

R?) The Boy )llncrn.
| By Bruce-

86 Jan-k knwny in New Yurk.
lxriduc iirinyniz.
87 The Ilm-aur (‘nplnim By Cui. Prentiss iinrrnhxun.
2‘8 liendn‘nmi liick ln Lcnth iilc. By E. L.\\'hnoler.
89 lilll lilddnn’ 'l'rnpper. 15y Etlwm‘d S. Elllg.
90 ’I ippy. the 'l uxnn. 1', ‘eurze Glehrun.
9| Mindier sum. liv Jug. E. limlgcr, Jr.
92 i‘lw 01-ch Blond ouml. By Sillllllrl W. Prince.
93 Phil iim-(lv, the liuss Buy. By Chm-lea Mnrrln‘.
94} licndwood hick nu lie By E. L.Whr.eicr.
90 Buck linvkrnm. By (‘ Mal! J. l“. C. Admins.
96 Gilt-Edged Dick. By Edward L. “'lu-eler.
97 The mak Siced ol'the l’rnlrlcu. J. L. Bowen.
98 'i he Son Serpent. iiy lulu chi...
99 Bollllllza Bill, ll'u- Mn“ 'i’mrher. liy E. L. Wheeler.
100 Nut. ’I‘udd. lly I'llllllll'll Ell“. .
1“! During Ihn‘ '. llv [in r
102 The Yellow l‘liicl‘.
1015 ('hip, [hr Hirl Spnrl. Edward L. Wheeler.
10-1 The lilnrk Schooner. iiy linger Slurhnck.
“‘5 I mlunm: llnrl'y. By (‘l urirs Morris.
J glut-linu‘k K it. My .11).. l". i ,- .
ll 7 Jack Ihnlo‘n lend. l'y ,.lv
103 Rack )lonniuln Kit. it); T.(7. l
109 'I he {ll-undod i and. l’ ' Frva Dun
ll!) The ilrvnd liltler. By a V W
l “mun 1:01).“n‘KiIl-Jnillmril‘llu ‘
2 The llelpienn linnd. By ( "r
If Sour-an .‘nul, theSih-nl Hm.
-l I‘incy i’nni. Ihe Mum”. ll. liny. i.
5 limuin‘om llk "A Double. is
‘i Jnllez (‘0 n lm-rr. My Can i‘
anpv Fl'ull (ll ('nl- rmlu liy linilnln lllil.
Will Wildfire, lhn'l llurmlglulm-d. Br ('hus. Mun-ll.
9 Blunde lHll. lly Edward L. \\'l aher, ‘
0 Gopher G id. the i‘vy ’l'rapl-rr. l‘. ('. iiurlmngli.
il2i llnI-rv Arnmlrorg. By llr ridgullu lg.
122 The llnntcd llnnlcr. liy lulu-u  i
123 Folid h‘xun, H11» Buy Rudd-Agean .
124 Judo c 1.) rich. Jr. llv ‘I'. l}. linrlmugh.
125 The Lnnd l’lrntcfl. lly ( apt. Mug-nu Reid.
12“ Blue Hinze-M. l‘y Frank lmm- M.
127 'i'om' lfox. Iho Fn-rl'el. By Erlmird L. Vl'hwler.
1% \rni \\ llllllru’n Buyer. is. (‘lmrll‘s .‘lorrll.
1‘29 Fnule l it, [lies '1.) Damn. Br Ull (Wu-mes.
180 Gilli] ’l‘riu‘uer. (he Spm‘l. I; - 'i‘. (‘. Hurhungh.
3| A “nine 01’ Cold. liy lidwnrd L. \Vhen-Ivr.

32 lhiini y Innoc, liw 1105' Sport. liy J. E. ihuiuer, Jr.
33 “‘llth-e. ilm l‘msel n! llh‘ Ronni. [5y l‘d‘llllll Duulonl.
834 Mike Merrv. Ihr llnrhvr Pniiw linr. iiy (7. Murrls. ’

‘3

upl. Mu... Reid.

\l' I. Pelef.
rhiulgh.
I] I.

(Ill ( 'nmm-I.
. llnrlnmgll.

HHHH—lHH-‘Hu

fr iondwood ilk-l" of Dcudu'ood. By Whaler.
. 6 “Id Rube. tha Humor. By l'upl. llmnillvn Hulmes.
3’? Duran Roch. l5_\' G. Wuldu Browhr.
a» Bob Roche". 1h.- hm hm... liy cm... M- m.
89 The “luck (Mimi. Br Joseph ll1l4lgvr,Jr.
Cnptnin Arizonn. By Philip  \l’nrnu.
New York Noll. ll_r Edward L. \Vlmrh-r.
Linic 'l'exnmlhe Young: llunlanxcr. Hy (Jll Guam”,
lh-ndly lbw-sh. lly .ln». E. llmluer. . .
thilt‘. Gr“. lllB \Vllll Rider. lZ ' (‘l-l. ingrnharn.
The Tiger of’i‘uon. Hy Glen V nl-ln Browne.
14 The I‘nfllo King. liy ank Dumom.
147 Nnhhy Nick ol'Nevnlln. RV 1'2. 1.. Wheeler.
14% Thumlr-rhnlt Tum. liy iurry St. (.‘murze.
] 19 “oh “(n-kc”. the ihznl: Runner. By (‘. Morris.
150 The Mini Minor. By G. \i‘hldn Brnwr
151 The Son 'J‘r'nllcr. fly Col. Prentir
152 Dnmly ilnrkc. Hy Willimn ii. )-
lfifi \"ild Frnnk. By Edward L. \
154 The Buy 'l'rnileru. iiyJo.
155 Gold I'llune. liy (‘nl. Prvllllm ingrnlmm.
150 \RVll'l \}\' Iillrc in the “'oods. By C. Morris.

ml: \‘ . :u 5.
157 Ned Temple. lly T. C. Hnrhnnzh. Rendy Jan. 19.
158 lu-udwoml Dick’s Doom. By Ed. L. thcler.
Ready .111". ill. ‘

qued Every “'ednenduy.

Bondie'a Packet Librnry [5 hr min by all New:-
d-‘nlml, tire and: yrr cupv, or uni by nmii on receipt or fix
cont: ranch.

BEADLE J; ADAMS, Publishers,
98 “'lilinm Street, New Yul-k.

I urnlmm.

. T.
lindunr, Jr.