BEADLE & ADAMS’ 20 CENT NOVELS.
[No. 21.
RED R OB,
‘The Boy Road-Agent.
BY OLL coQn reins
LE AND ADAMS, 98 WILLIAM STREET, N.Y.
Vor. II.] JANUARY 5, 1877. [No. 21.
RED. ROB, sais
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT.
BY OLL COOMES,
AUTHOR oF ‘IDAHO TOM,” ‘‘DAKOTA DAN,” ETO.
“ager
NEW YORK:
BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS,
98 WILLIAM STREET.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by
BEADLE AND ADAMS,
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
2 enaaeeeaneennenEnEnEEmeEemammmmemiadeeemenmarsneene= teseasceesoece
RED ROB,
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT.
CHAPTERI,
THE WAGON TRAIN.
AN emigrant train was creeping slowly and laboriously
along the valley of a small tributary of the Rio Grande, to-
ward Conejos, a little Spanish-Mexican town of Southern
Colorado.
It was a warm May day; there was no cool shade in which
to rest, no breeze to fan the brows of the weary travelers.
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT, 17
make the distance, and she was surprised at their delay. As
she rode along, a fearful sound suddenly smote upon her
ears. It came from the direction of the train. It was the
report of firearms, mingled with yetls and shouts. These
Were succeeded by a thunderous boom that came crashing
forth upon the air with more violence than a thunderbolt
from heaven. The earth seemed to rock as the waves of the
terrific sound rolled along the surface and swelled upon the
air, starting a hundred echoes far and near.
“Oh, mercy!” cried Octavia, ‘‘that was the cannon; the
train has been attacked by Indians or robbers!”
She urged her pony forward.
The prolonged twang of a horn suddenly pealed forth
upon the air.
The maiden glanced up the valley toward the north, and
to her surprise beheld her late young cavalier galloping along
the ridge in the direction of the train. He held a bugle to
his lips, ever and anon sending forth a shrill blast upon it.
And still another surprise awaited her.
A band of horsemen burst suddenly from the little grove
of pines, out of which the youth had emerged but a few
minutes previous. All were armed, for she could see their
Weapons gleaming in the sunlight.
At a wild, breakneck speed they thundered across the val-
ley and swept up the hill toward that mysterious young
knight of the plain. -
“Thank God!” burst in accents of joy from Octavia’s lips;
““they are rangers—they are going to help my friends—and
fe is their leader!”
CHAP Tank 71h
THE SOLDIERS’ BIVOUAC.
Norrurern New Mexico!
To this land of Aztec ruins, deserted Zuni cities perched
upon lofty summits amid the purple clouds; to this land of
ancient voleanoes, of hidden rivers, of yawning chasms and
>
18 RED ROB,
grim, savage forests; to this mysterious land, whose history
is written only in cipher, where once burned the fires of‘ the
Sun-worshipers, we would now lead the gentle reader.
Under the somber shadows of a pinon forest, in the fertile
valley of the San Juan, four men reposed in their bivouac.
They were soldiers of the United States, as their uniforms
denoted, and belonged to the garrison at Fort Defiance, in
Arizona.
The day was nearly spent. The wind drifted down from
the cool hights of the distant mountains, and rumbled chill
and sullen through the rifts and gorges of the adjacent foot-
hills. Strange voices whispered in still stranger tones among
the somber pinons.. Buzzards wheeled in the air above the
camp with their naked, coral necks outstretched and greedy
eyes looking to earth as if in anticipation of an early feast.
Coyotes howled in the distance.
The location and its surroundings were well calculated to
inspire the deepest melancholy and gloomiest forebodings.
And perhaps they did, but not one of that little band of vet-
erans admitted it by word or look. Reclining in poBitions
of ease and repose upon their waterproof blankets, that had
come from Navajo looms, they smoked their pipes and con-
versed with the ease and composure of men accustomed to
camp-life.
This little party was under command of James H. Miller,
the Indian agent of the Navajoes; and the object which had
brought them into the San Juan valley was for furthering
the humanitarian Indian policy, of which Mr. Miller was an
earnest advocate. The annuities from the government to the
Navajoes had been exhausted, and for two years in succes-
» sion the crops of the semi-barbarous agriculturists had failed.
Thus, on the verge of starvation and confined to their reser-
vation, the Indians were on the eve of open hostilities. It
required every effort of the agent to prevent it, and in hopes
of finding a district more suitable for a reservation and agri-
cultural purposes, he had penetrated into the valley of the
San Juan, accompanied by three companions; and it is thus
that we find them encamped in that valley, not far from the |
Rio del los Pinos,
“‘T feel thankful to heaven.” Mr. Miller finally remarked,
t
Yer
start
take
mai
con
wil
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ap
pi
istory
f the
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ac,
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, in
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THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. : 19
starting from his thoughts, ‘‘that this expedition was under-
taken.”
“You think then this valley is sufficiently fertile for the
Maintenance of the tribe, do you?” asked Ben Thomas.
“Ido. Water in this arid, volcanic land is the greatest
consideration, and’ the San Juan and its series of tributaries
will furnish this in abundance for irrigation.”
‘But it seems that rivers in this country go dry or sink
beneath the earth’s surface, and the San Juan may also dis-
appear,”
“T think it has been dry at some remote period of the
past,” said Jesus Alviso, the Mexican interpreter.
‘What proof have you of this, Alviso?” asked the Indian
agent.
““The deserted pueblos and ruined acecgutas, senor.”
“T can not think so, Alviso. The formation of this valley
leads me to a different opinion.”
“Then why was this valley deserted?) We have ample
evidence of its having once been densely populated.”
““F know it, and can not account for its desertion upon
any other theory than that the Apaches, those ancient foes of
the Navajoes, overran the valley at some remote period of the
past. This country is an enigma to the antiquarian. It has
been the scene of local strife and bloodshed ever since the
Spanish invaders endeavored to supplant the old Mexic faith.
The wrath of God seems to have ‘fallen upon this country.
It is the Egypt of the New World, for the ‘Seven cities of
the Cibolus,” on the de Chaco river, and the fortified city of
the Aztecs, Quivira, on the San Juan, answer to the once
populous cities of Babylon and Nineveh. We have evidence
of a superior race of people having once dwelt: here. Their
Tuined cities attest this. But now it has become almost a
desert. A few roving bands of Indians, white robbers, and
now and then a few treasure-hunters, like Bedouins, rove
about oyer the country. This region is undoubtedly rich in
mineral deposits, and it’s my opinion that, if the Indian Ap-
propriation Bill now pending in Congress, passes, there will
be a great rush ‘to this land of ruins.”
‘©TIn which case troubles will multiply,” said Ben Thomas,
‘* With the Mexican outlaws to the south of us, the Utes and
20 RED. ROB,
Mormons on the west, and a horde of lawless treasure-seekers
pouring in from all quarters, what will be the result?”
“ War, robbery and crime,” responded Alviso. pas
‘*T apprehend no trouble from the Utes,” said Miller.
“Do not trust them, senor. They appear friendly, but Si
even at this moment they may be in this valley.” tir
The man’s words seemed prophetic. tr
“ Well,” said Mr. Miller, starting to his feet, ‘I must not ¥
neglect the view from the summit of yonder cliff.”
He took a small field-glass from among his effects, and,
accompanied by Alviso, started toward the hill, across a
beautiful valley. The pinons swayed gently above them, the ¥
green grass rustled to their. hasty footsteps. Soon they
reached the foot of the bluff—a spur of the San Juan moun- :
tain—and with light footsteps started up the steep acclivity. :
They soon gained the towering summit and turned their faces
westward. :
The sun was just sinking behind a distant range of hills.
The mountain tops around them seemed ablaze with fire—
altars upon which burned the eternal fires of the Montezumas,
The valley and forest lay brooding in death-like shadows
beneath them.
With his glass the agent swept the surrounding hills, val-
leys and mountains. Far away upon a lofty summit to the
“westward he descried the gray outlines of one of those
ancient ruined cities.. It loomed up against the sky yrim
and ghostly. :
_ For a moment Miller studied the old remains with medita-
tive silence; then he turned his glass upon another object to
which his attention had been called by his companion. He
scanned it for a moment, then exclaimed:
‘“‘That beats me, Alviso.”
It was a smoke, curling upward in a spiral column in the
vicinity of the ruins of Quivira.
“That proves that we are not the only persons. in this
vicinity.”
‘“To be sure it does, senor,” replied Alviso.
“Do you think it is from an Indian camp?”
‘No; it’s too bold for that, Ill tell you my opinion,
senor,”
's
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 21
“Well?”
“You remember of hearing of a party of emigrants that
passed through Santa Fe, about two years ago?”
“Yes: they say they acted queer. They were called
Silent Tongues on account of their reticence as to their des-
tination. All at once they disappeared. Their wagons were
tracked to the old Moqui towns, where all tracés of them
vanished.”
*That’s the story, senor; and now—”
“* Well?”
“Tl risk a doubloon on that smoke curling up from the
retreat of the Silent Tongues.”
‘We'll see to-morrow,” said Miller, and turning-he led the
way down the cliff and back to camp through the gathering
shadows of twilight.
>
CHAPTER IV.
THE THREE MINERS.
Wuen Miller and his companion reached camp they found
their comrades and supper awaiting them.
Seating themselves upon the sward the. four began their
repast. While thus engaged, the agent made known his dis-
covery, and commented upon the same.
The sound of horses’ hoofs and the jingle of trappings sud-
denly arrested their attention. Mechanically they drew their
revolvers as they started and gazed uneasily around.
Three horsemen emerged from the shadows of the woods
and drew rein.
One familiar with a mining district would at once have
pronounced the trio a party of miners. They were mounted
on strong-limbed, yet jaded-looking ponies; and were provided
with huge packs, from which protruded the handles of picks
and spades and other evidences of their being treasure-hunters
on a prospecting tour through the country. They were also
well armed. Coming from the direction of the Quivira ruins,
there was nothing in their looks to engender distrust in the minds
22 RED ROB,
of the soldiers. Though rudely dressed, the open, frank ex-
‘ pression in each face dispelled all apprehension. Their com-
ing broke the savage monotony of the camp, and the quar-
tette hailed their presence with a feeling akin to pleasure.
These three men were eutirely different so far as age and
personal appearances went. The eldest must have been fifty
years or more of age. He was a tall, powerful man, straight
and erect, with a proud, martial bearing. His features wore
a pleasant, yet stern and resolute expression that was indica-
tive of great decision of character. His eyes were of a dark
gray, with that peculiarity of expression in them that one
often sees in those of a docile lion. His face was covered
witha ponderous white beard that gave him a still. more
venerable and imposing Jook.
This man was Basil Walraymond.
The next man in point of years was Nathan Wolfe. He
was about forty years of age, and was a splendid specimen
of the physical man, with a rough, bearded face, upon whose
features cropped out the predominaiff traits of the person’s
character.
The third was a young man of perhaps five-and-twenty
years. A little above the medium hight, he was possessed
of the form of an athlete and the face of an Adonis. His
hair, which was a dark-brown color, was cropped closely to
his head. A heavy mustache, of the same color as his hair,
shaded an expressive mouth, and lent an additional look of
strength to his features and of firmness to his character. In
his dark-blue eyes burned the luster of health, the fire of im-
petuous youth and the spirit of adventure. His cheeks were
bronzed, yet this rather served to strengthen his manly beauty
His voice was clear and full—almost musical.
This was Asa Sheridan.
All-three were dressed in buck-skin with woolen under-
shirts. All wore heavy boots with jingling spurs at the
heels. Broad-brimmed hats covered each head. A leather
belt encircled each waist, and in this belt were a pair of re-
volvers and a murderous-looking knife. A handsome rifle
was swung at the back of each, by means of a strap passing
over the left shoulder and under the right arm. "
A month previous these three were strangers. By chance
en a ae a
x=
T=
—.. os
>
THR BOY ROAD-AGENT. 23
they had been thrown together at SantaFe. ‘Their acquaint-
ance ripened into mutual friendship, and then their friendship
developed itself into a spirit of adventure. This finally car-
Tied them on a prospecting tour into northern New Mexico
and southern Colorado.
The profession and character of each one before their
Meeting at Santa Fe seemed of little concern to the others,
for they made no inquiry of one and another of anything ex-
tending beyond their first meeting. They asked for no pa-
pers of recommendation, of moral character or social stand-
ing. On the border all kinds of characters meet—good, bad
and indifferent—many of them to begin life anew; and so
the past is usually considered beyond the beginning, as it
Were, and to ask a man for a history of himself would be
almost as absurd as to ask a child for its history before it
existed.
The three were friends, that was certain. They were true
to each other; that had been tested in more than one difficulty
With the Arapahoes and Apaches,
“\A military camp, by Jove!” cried young Sheridan, as he
Caught sight of the soldiers’ uniform in the dim glow of the
camp-fire, and reined in his horse within a rod of the camp.
“Yes, on a small scale,” replied Miller, advancing.
Sheridan dismounted and saluted—his companions follow-
ing-his example.
“From Fort Wingate? or Defiance?”
“Defiance,” responded Miller, « Judging from appear-
ances you are miners, and as it is camping time, I. would
just say that the hospitality of the San Juan valley and our
bivouac is at your service,”
; “Thank you, sir,” said the old man, in a bluff, yet kindly
one.
It required but a few minutes to unpack their animals and
lariat them out to grass along with the soldiers’ horses,
This done, the three new-comers brought out their supply
of dried venison, roasted bear-meat and hard biscuit, and
took supper along with their newly-made acquaintances,
“*Tt is a blessed relief,” said Basil Walraymond, “to meet
White men with white hearts in this country. What are you
doing here, anyhow, soldiers?”
24 : RED ROB,
“Looking up a new agency for the Navajoes,” replied
Miller; ‘“‘ and you—”
‘‘We ure hunting gold and silver and diamonds,” inter-
rupted the mysterious old man of stone, anticipating Miller’s
question.
“With what success, senor?” asked Alviso.
The old man bent his fierce look upon Alviso, and his im-
mobile face seemed to wear a faint smile of scorn.
“©Pd be-a fool to tell you,” he responded; then his voice
softened, and he continued: ‘‘but you are soldiers. You
have no time to hunt treasure, so we need have no fears of
you jumping our claims. The fact of it is, however, we
have fio gold, no silver, no diamonds; but we have found
rubies, turquoises and garnets of great value. But you
needn’t murder us for them, for they are cached a hundred
miles from here,” and the speaker broke off into a fit of
silent, good-natured laughter.
“Did you come from the direction of Quivira ruins?” Mr.
Miller asked.
‘‘Not far in that direction. We’ve just returned from
Colorado. We saw your smoke, and bent our course this
way. We go to the ruins to-morrow,” replied the old man.
“‘T saw a smoke in the direction of the ruins a few minutes
ago. There must be a settlement down there, or else—”
“Do you think so, commandant?’ asked Walraymond,
betraying some sudden emotion,
“Jt may be a party of hunters or Indians, or miners like
yourselves,” continued the agent. ‘A party of emigrants
passed northward through Santa Fe a year or two ago, and
nothing has been heard of them since.”
‘“ Were there any women with them?” asked the old man.
“Yes, there were two or three women. The party acted
very queer and mysterious, some thought; but since I saw
that smoke off westward, I am inclined to believe those Silent
Tongues, as they were called, have crept away into this de-
serted valley and taken up their abode. They might have
found a rich gold mine, and are working it secretly; or they
may be one of those bands of outlaws that infest the moun-
tains.” f
Basil Walraymond glared at Miller while he was speaking
with
Ther
hoar
puz:
the
seer
the
coc
the
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eo a oD
itu BOY ROAD-AGENT. 38
With a savage yet thoughtful look in his dark gray eyes.
Then he bent his gaze upon the ground, stroked his long,
hoary beard fiercely, and then resumed his eating.
The old man was agitated, and the soldiers were somewhat
Puzzled by his strong emotions; and were even surprised at
the manner in which his own companions regarded him. He
Seemed to puzzle them all—a living enigma.
Supper was concluded in silence.
By this time darkness had set in. The coyotes had begun
their demoniac chatter—the forest its nocturnal moan. ~The
Cool breeze from the mountains swept chill and sad down
the valley. The dark brow of the San Juan frowned omin-
ously down upon the bivouac.
The fire was replenished with fuel. The blaze leaped
upward and threw its ruddy light over the rough, bearded
faces around it. Millions of sparks drifted into the purple
dome of darkness above. Shadows grim and grotesque
danced in and out of the impenetrable wall of gloom around
them as the flames rose and fell with the currents of air.
Silence, deep and profound, came over the party. The
chill air had first checked’ that spontaneous flow of genial
spirits that characterized most of the party. And now the
warm glow of the fire being felt through every form, it car-
ried them back to the home fireside. It recalled many
Pleasant thoughts, and many bitter ones, no doubt. Eve-
ning’s home pleasures are associated with the warm, cheery
glow of a fire. The faces we knew in youth; faces we know
in manhood; faces that are gone from our view forever; faces
that were went to grow bright at our coming—all appear be-
fore the mental vision in the glowing flame. The fireside is
a powerful agent. It conjures up a thousand vague images;
it resurrects long-buried thoughts, oft-times opening anew
old wounds, or reviving sad, desponding spirits. And it
must have wrought its mysterious influence upon Basil Wal-
raymond, for at times a faint smile would overspread his
stern, bearded face and light up the eyes; then would follow
a nervous twitching of the facial muscles, and a quivering
of the eyelids, that told of some bitter, agonizing thoughts
tugging at his heart-strings.
None watched this’ mysterious old man as did Asa Sheri-
26 RED ROB,
dan. Some strange affinity seemed to have drawn the old
stranger into his heart. Meanwhile young Sheridan was not
aware that he had become the central figure of other eyes.
The soldiers regarded him with even more interest than the
old man—Alviso with evident distrust.
There was an air of reckless abandon about the youth that
seemed to possess some irresistible power of magnetic attrac-
tion—something that attracted and yet repelled—something
to admire and at the same time fear.
After a few minutes’ silence, the Mexican took a diary and
pencil from an inner pocket. Upon the fiy-leaf of the book
he wrote a name. _ He then passed the memoranda to Miller,
in such an indifferent manner as not to attract attention, at
the same time nodding in a significant manner at Sheridan,
who sat with his back toward him.
The agent glanced at the writing in the book and read
that terrible name:
“ Red Rob, the Boy Road-agent !”
CHAPTER V.
THE CENTAUR.
Tue idea of Asa Sheridan; the miner, being Red Rob
seemed preposterous; and yet Alviso’s announcement fell like
a lightning’s bolt upon the agent. He glanced at the inter-
preter, then at the unsuspecting object of his emotions, seem-
ing totally undecided as to what coursc he should pursue.
His first impulse, however, was to take advantage of the
Mexican’s revelation and secure the notorious young outlaw.
But a second thought dismissed the first. He passed the
book back to Alviso and consulted his thoughts.
Red Rob, the Boy Road-agent, had, for two years, been
a terror to New Mexico; and his name was spoken in fear
by some, in praise by others. He had been termed a modern
Claude Duval with but a single exception, that of his age.
Red Rob had never been represented over eighteen years of
old
not
ves.
the
that
rac-
ing
ind
0k
ler,
at
An,
ad
Ww
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 27
Age; although none of his victims could be found that had
ever seen his face; hé always went in disguise.
It was the rich that feared him, for the poor had nothing
that he wanted, and so they rested in comparative ease.
Deeds of heroism, daring adventure, acts of kindness to emi-
grant parties, had won for him a kind of a terrible fascina-
tion,
If Sheridan was Red Rob, Miller could see no reason why
he was called the Boy Road-agent, for he was a man in years,
This gave him reason to believe that Alviso was mistaken in
the man’s identity; and yet, there were hopes of his being
Correct, for the Mexican was acquainted with all the different
characters in the territory.
Heretofore all attempts to capture the young mountain
bandit had proved fruitless. Miller knew this; and, as he
gazed upon the handsome face and athletic form of young
Sheridan, and measured his probable strength, he wondered
What success would attend an attempt to arrest him, and
whether or not the old man Walraymond and Nathan Wolfe
were his companions in outlawry.
The rustle of a bush and the soft, light tread of hoofed
feet not far away, arrested the agent’s attention. In an in-
stant every one of the group turned in the direction of the
sound to behold a human face peering at them over a low
bush. It was a man’s face—aged and wrinkled, and covered
With an immense yellow beard, fully two feet inlength. The
hair was also long, grizzled and disheveled. Neither hat nor
cap was upon his head. ‘There was a vacant expression in
the great bearded face, a wild, unearthly glare in the dark,
sunken eyes.
The man stood about two rods away, where the extremity
of the light, blended with the shadows, created a dim twi-
light. His body was concealed behind a bush, and, judging
by the hight of this, he was of low stature. For several mo-
ments the party regarded the stranger with a look of silent
awe.
Nathan Wolfe seemed more agitated than any. He seemed
to recognize the countenance.
Miller, first to break the silence, cried: ‘‘Who comes
there?”
28 RED ROB,
The man made no response, but turning his head, glanced
from side to side, then resumed his va@ant stare toward the
fire.
The agent challenged him again, but no response.
Then Miller drew his revolver. ‘‘ Answer, or I'll fire,”
and he raised the weapon.
Still no response from the stony-faced intruder.
The agent pressed the trigger and the report of his pistol
crashed through the night. He did not aim at the man’s
head, but above it, hoping to frighten him and elicit a re-
sponse. .
Scarcely had the reverberations of the pistol-shot started
the forest echoes, ere the form of an animal sprung from be- —
hind the very bush where the man stood, and stopped within
the full glare of the light.
An exclamation of involuntary horror burst from every
lip. An awful apparition stood before them.
Upon the body of the animal was a human head and face!
—the same bearded face that had stared at them over the bush !/
There was no doubting the evidence of their eyes—it was
no delusion—no mental phantom, but a living, moving ani-
mal, with the head and face of a man!
lt stood within the full glow of the camp-fire and glared
at them. :
Every man recoiled with an involuntary shudder of vague
horror, The face of the Mexican became ghastly, and his
teeth chattered as with an ague fit.
“* Ay, senor!” he gasped, seizing Miller by the arm, while
his staring eyes were fixed upon the unnatural monster.
“Tt is it, senor—the devil—Centaur—half-human, half-
beast!”
There was no reply. Every eye was still fixed upon the
creature, whose gaze seemed possessed of a diabolical fascin-
ation—a fascination that they could not repel.
However preposterous it seemed to them, there was no de-
nying the living fact. The proof was the creature itself—
there before them, a terrible living horror—the form of a
deer, with a human face and head. The long, yellow beard
hung low upon the breast, and the long, grizzled hair strag-
gled in disordered masses about the neck; while those awful,
inced
l the
ire,”
istol
an’s
re-
ted
be- —
hin
=
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT.
stony-looking eyes, glaring out at them from beneath their
Massive brows in the wavering, garish light, seemed to dart
rays of hellish enchantment into the souls of the astonished
men.
A raven suddenly croaked near by. It broke the awful
Spell, and the monster turned its bearded face and bounded
away into the gloom.
Half a minute had seemed an hour.
The monster left the party speechless. Walraymond was
the first to speak.
‘* Age of wonders—monsters!”
He spoke in a calm, natural tone.
‘Yes, it beats me—it beats all of us,” said the Indian
agent.
“Certainly, certainly,” mused Walraymond, reflectively.
“Surely we are not living in the age of fable—centuries in
advance of time. Surely that mass rising yonder into the
clouds cannot be old Mount Olympus.”
“No, by heavens, Walraymond!” exclaimed young Sheri-
, dan, whose clear, metallic voice dispelled the silent terror
left hanging over the camp; “you are living ia the year of
our Lord, eighteen hundred and seventy-one.”
Walraymond turned to Miller and said:
st What do you understand by that apparition, command-
ant?’
“‘Tt’s a mystery.”
““ Your opinion, then?”
“I saw the body of an animal, not unlike that of a deer,
with a human head—I saw those as plain as I see you.
ay all; I can form no idea in regard to it—it’s a mys-
ery.
“Tt’s as I tell you, senor. It’s a Centaur. They have
dwelt in the valley of the del los Pinos these many, many
centuries.”
The Mexican was superstitious. He spoke in a solemn,
earnest tone—almost fiercely.
Miller recalled the many strange stories he had heard of
this mysterious land-—stories which had come down through
centuries in traditions. He remembered hearing an old
Navajo tell something of a strange race of people with bodies
80 RED ROB, 2
like animals, that dwelt in the valley of some of the San
Juan tributaries; but he accepted the story as one of the le-
gends of the country, and thought no more about it until
that moment.
James Miller was an old soldier, a man of education, and
one of the last to give credence to stories that find their ori-
gin in superstition. But what was he to believe now?—how
was he to dispose of the monster? He had seen it move,
and knew it was no optical delusion—nothing spiritual, but
a tangible object of the material world. Perhaps he was in
a frame of mind that was not calculated to repel the convic-
tion forced so suddenly upon him. The deep solitude of
the place, the gloom of night, the weird sounds coming, as
it were, from out the realms of Nowhere, and the revelation
that Alviso had just made concerning Sheridan—all these,
perhaps, contributed in overcoming his incredulities of all
appertaining to the mysterious. Nothing begets uneasiness
and vague, restless fear so quick as the depressing influence
of gloom and solitude, and the stoutest heart and bravest
mind can no more dispel them from the breast than they can
the shadows of night from around them. There is an awful
resemblance between death and darkness. The horrors of
the one are in the shadows of the other.
‘*And now your opinion, Walraymond?” the agent said,
turning to the old man,
‘Tt must be as your Mexican friend says. Nothing under
the sun is impossible, especially in New Mexico. Yes, sir,
seeing a thing should be all the evidence wanted. No one
can see for another as well as he can for himself. But, af-
ter all, the creature seemed harmless.”
‘It is harmless,” replied Nathan Wolfe, terribly agitated,
and apparently troubled.
“Senor,” said Alviso, ‘‘do not be deceived in the Cen-
taur. These deserted valleys and pueblos bear the hoof-
prints of those ancient demons—are mute witnesses of the
bloody work of the Centaurs.”
Miller saw that the unnatural fear which leads to supersti-
tion was getting the better of himself and men, and so he at
once dismissed the subject; and, as a preclusion to further
excitement, wrapped his blanket around him ‘and lay
San
é le-
until
ull
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 81
tn to rest, pillowing his head in the hollow of his sad-
le.
A soldier and one of the miners were detailed to take the
first watch. The rest of the party followed the agent’s ex-
ample, and wére soon asleep on the ground.
The camp-fire burned low, The coyotes chattered nearer
—the pinons rustled softly in the night wind. The watch-
ers, stationed under the darkness, kept their silent ward.
The near crack of rifles, the whiz of bullets and ‘ whirr ”
of arrows suddenly told them of lurking dangers. The sleep-
ers all started from their sleep, but Agent Miller. He slept
on.
Every man grasped his rifle, expecting an attack, But
they were happily disappointed. No foes appeared. Alviso
crept away into the shadows to reconnoiter.
Ben Thomas turned to Miller, who still slept on. Thomas
spoke to him, but he stirred not. He bent over him and
shook him—lightly at first, then vigorously. Still he could
not rouse the sleeper.
Thomas drew aside the blanket from the agent’s face, upon
which the light now shone, He was lying upon his left side.
His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted and wreathed in
a faint smile that seemed the expression of a pleasant dream.
A dark line ran diagonally across the man’s brow. Thomas
looked closer, and saw it was the track of blood! Then he
started up and cried out:
“My God, Miller is dead!”
And he spoke the truth, A bullet of one of the unseen
foes had struck the agent on the top of the head, passed
downward behind the eye, producing instant death. He
had not moved a muscle nor uttered a word.*
A gloom darker than the shades of night fell upon the
party. The death of the agent was a terrible blow to his
friends and country. And to still add to this loss and sad
state of affairs, Alviso returned to camp with the startling
information that a large party of Utes was in the valley—
that they had stolen every animal but a single one, and that to
stay there would be to court certain death.
Upon a hasty consultation, it was decided to abandon the
* A real incident
2
32 RED ROB,
camp at once. A messenger was dispatched on the only
remaining horse to Fort Defiance, with the news of Miller's
death. -
Under the somber pinons, where the San Juan Mountains
keep their eternal watch, James H. Miller, the soldier and
Christian, was laid to rest. A grave had been hollowed out
with one of the miners’ spades, the body wrapped in a blanket
and lowered into the grave.
When the last shovelful of dirt was placed over the dead,
all turned toward Walraymond, who had unassumingly taken
charge of the burial. The glare of a pine torch lit up the
scene—the mound of fresh earth, the silent figures around it,
their faces looking ghostly in the dim, uncertain glow of the
wavering light, and the most conspicuous of all, the majestic
form of Basil Walraymond, with bared head, and his long,
venerable beard looking hoary in the dusky shadows.
A dead calm fell upon the little party. The old man lifted
his eyes toward heaven—his lips moved—he was praying.
His voice was low and tremulous at first, but finally swelled
out clear and strong and solemn as the tones of a funeral
bell. His whole frame shook with the intensity of his emotions,
as, with all the fervency of his great, noble soul, he lifted
his voice to heaven in behalf of the soul of the departed
man.
It was a wild, weird and solemn scene.
Asa Sheridan watched and listened in breathless silence,
his whole soul seemingly absorbed by the solemn words of
the speaker. A mist gathered over his eyes, and something
came up in his throat and almost choked him. Was it re-
morse? Did the humble supplication of the old man recall
something of the forgotten past?—reach his heart?
When Walraymond had concluded his prayer, Sheridan
turned to Wolfe and said, in a low tone:
‘Strange, mysterious, noble old man! From whence
came he?—who is he?—what is he? Wolfe, I'd give all the
wealth of New Mexico, if I possessed it, for answers to these
questions.”
“ Soldiers, what do you propose to do now?”
Tt was the old man who spoke, in his full, rich tone.
‘“We will have to return to the fort;—but you?”
.
THE BOY ,ROAD-AGENT. 88
only “T shall follow those Indians.”
ler’s “*T, too,” said Sheridan.
“And I,” added Wolfe.
ains “ Our time is not our own,” said Ben Thomas. ‘‘It be-
and 0ngs to. our country. But for this we would accompany
ouf. you.”
ket “Do your duty, soldiers,” said the old man, solemnly.
“We may meet again some time, so good-by.”
ad, He shook hands with the soldiers, took up his rifle and
cen turned to leave.
the The wind stirred the branches above; the leaves rustled
it, mournfully, s
the Then the wall of darkness around them seemed to give
tic birth to a hundred spirits of evil. A hundred shadowy fig-
ures floated out of the gloom into the light of the camp-
3)
fire.
ed They were savages. The war-whoop of the Utes burst
o. upon the silent night—echoed and re-echoed among the
ad Mountain caverns, and rolled along in quavering intonation
al through the valley.
, Sheridan, Wolfe and the soldiers fled into the forest gloom.
d Basil Walraymond alone remained to contend with the sav-
d age horde. His giant form, rendered conspicuous by his
_ White beard and gray hair, towered above the seething mass
around him—a grand, majestic soul, struggling with the le-
gions of darkness. :
He discharged his rifle at the foremost Indian. The red-
Skin fell dead. Then he clubbed his weapon. With the
first blow the stock was shattered, but it left him with a
deadlier missile—-the heavy iron barrel, which crushed and
tore its way through the ranks of the foe. The old man
stood his ground. The savages fell away before him. He
was a pivot around which the deadly gun-barrel swept like
an iron arm whirled by some irresistible power.
From the darkness of the woods, young Sheridan and
Nathan Wolfe saw the danger of their old friend, the heroic,
Mysterious Basil Walraymond.
They loved the old man—they resolved he shouid not fall
alone. They rushed back, and side by side with him, fought
the yelling, frenzied horde.
34 RED ROB,
CHAPTER VI.
THE MYSTERIOUS RESCUERS.
OcTaviA was scarcely out of hailing distance of the train,
when the restless eyes of her brother, Major St. Kenelm,
discovered a dark cloud rise suddenly upon the northern
horizon and sweep along the plain. He knew at once it was
not a storm-cloud, but a cloud surcharged with more deadly
elements; and as it approached, it gradually resolved itself
into distinct objects—each object a horse and rider. The
riders were all readily recognized as Indians. The emigrants
could see their plumes swaying in the breeze about their
heads, and their polished spear-heads flashing in the sun.
“They are Arapahoes, boys,” said ‘young Boswell, who
had brought a field-glass to bear upon the moving mass;
“look, major, for yourself.”
St. Kenelm took the glass, and having scanned the party
for a moment, exclaimed: _
‘* Danger is coming, friends—perhaps death! Every man
to his post—we will have to fight! Ho, teamsters! throw
your wagons into a square, that we may have a temporary
barricade, and secure your animals. Be quick, men, for
Heaven’s sake! This way, two of you; help me man the
Silent Friend!”
Two men followed him to the rear wagon, which, being
covered like the others, no one would have guessed was an
artillery-wagon. But such was the case. The party had
improvised a gun-carriage out of a common wagon, and
mounted a small brass howitzer upon it. The weapon had
been kept concealed by the tilt, which was kept securely
closed all around. -It was spoken of only as the “ Silent
Friend.”
The major and his two friends entered the inclosed gun-
carriage, unloosened the canvas so as to be thrown aside in
an instant, and then loaded the gun with a solid shot.
Major St. Kenelm had seen service as an artillerist, and
had
ion
sai
nin
er
tk
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 85
had no doubt of his ability to handle the gun with precis
ion.
‘“* Now let them venture within five hundred yards,” he
Said, calmly. ,
“But, major, look off tere/” cried Harry Gilbrest, run-
hing up in great excitement; ‘‘ there comes another party of
horsemen from the south.”
The gunners looked in the direction indicated, and, sure
enough, saw another party of horsemen sweeping toward
them. They were about the same distance away that the
other party was. St. Kenelm examined them with the
. Blass,
** Boys, we are doomed! They are Kiowas!”
He spoke in a deep, husky tone.
By this time the mules and horses had been secured. The
Women were huddled together behind the barricade of wag-
Ons, trembling with a violent terror.
Every man and boy, black and white, stood with rifle in
hand ready for the affray. A pallor was upon each face,
but it was that pallor with which the brave meet death. A
fierce determination burned in each eye.
- “The Arapahoes are the strongest,” said St. Kenelm;
Perhaps one volley from our rifles, followed by one shot
from the cannon, will check their advance. We can then
meet the Kiowas with our rifles and a discharge of grape.”
In the mean time great excitement prevailed among the
Women. The absence of Octavia was known to all, and the
§eneral belief that she was in imminent danger caused great
Uneasiness. Old Aunt Shady was nearly distracted, and re-
fused, like Rachel of old, to be comforted.
“Do not grieve, Aunt Shady,” said the kind-hearted
Maggie Boswell. ‘‘ Octavia may be the only one of us that'll
escape.”
‘Oh, Miss Maggie, I jis’ know she’ll be murdered an’ den
killed by dem awful. Ingings!” wailed the old negress. ‘‘ If
We’s killed, den de poor young t’ing ‘ll be wusser off dan
eber. Oh, my Octaby! who'd take keer ob her den? Oh,
honey! dis world’s jis’ full ob siu blacker dan my face.
Tell break my heart—I jis’ can’t stand it—oh, Lor’, 'l jis’
86 RED ROB,
And her fat form shook like an aspen under the intensity
of her grief.
“ But, Aunt Shady,” persisted Maggie, with tears in her
eyes, ‘‘ Octavia may be—”
‘Hush, chilé—honey, dear!” interrupted the old negress;
“ole Shady haben’t@libed dis fifty year fur nuffin’. She
know what danger am—she see de awful war in de Souf—
she see’d— Oh, Lor’, sabe my soul!”
The last exclamation was occasioned by the sudden, thun-
derous crash of the cannon, that shook the earth till Aunt
Shady fairly bounced. She stuffed her chubby fingers into
her ears, and looking up at her friends with a lugubrious
wail, cried out: ;
“Children, let’s pray.”
The shot fired at the approaching Arapahoes was not
without effect. It plowed its way through the ranks of the
foe, filling them with terror and consternation. This was a
reception they had never expected to meet with from an emi-
grant train. Had they. known that the party possessed a
cannon, it is doubtful whether they would have made the at-
tack; for, of all things, the Indian has the greatest terror of
a cannon.
The shot put a check to the advance of the Arapahoes,
but the Kiowas kept straight on toward the train, as if ex-
erting every effort to reach it in advance of the Arapahoes.
The emigrants held their fire until the Kiowas were within
fifty paces, then the cannon belched forth its leaden hail and
was succeeded by volley after volley, in rapid succession,
by the deadly Winchesters. The carnage was fearful; more
than a score of savages were unhorsed. A dozen ponies
dashed wildly in every direction over the plain—some with
reeling, tottering riders, others riderless entirely.
The animals of several of the Kiowas became unmanage-
able with affright, and dashed up to the very muzzles of the
repeaters that were still pouring forth an almost continual
stream of fire and lead.
‘The Arapahoes saw this fearless movement of their neigh-
bors, and supposing it was made out of sheer bravery, deter-
mined not to be outdone by them, and rallying, bore down
again to the scene of conflict
rible
ance
our -
Non,
and
slau
pres
insi
alt
gra
aw aot a
nsity
her
"ESS;
She
fi
un-
unt
nto
US
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 87
This encouraged the Kiowas, who, maddened by their ter-
Tible loss, charged the emigrants, with all the savage venge-
ance of their souls thrown into their unearthly yells. But
Our friends were ready for this combined onset. The can-
Non, loaded almost to the muzzle, belched across the plain,
and was immediately followed by the discharge of the rifles.
The ranks of the foe were nearly swept away. The
Slaughter of men and horses was frightful; but the survivors
Pressed on and drove the gunners from the cannon—back
inside of their frail defense of wagons.
Yells of triumph now issued from the red-skins’ lips, for,
although dearly purchased, victory seemed within their
grasp.
A scene that defies description now followed the first ad-
Vantage of the foe. Above the tumult of the battle, rose the
Cries and screams of the terrified women, the wild braying
Of the frightened mules, and the shouts of the defenders.
But, suddenly, above the din of all, the wild clangor of
& horn rung out, and a score of white horsemen charged like
Madmen upon the savages and put them to rout.
And the emigrant train was saved!
Away over the plains in all directions scattered the defeated
Savages in the wildest disorder, and on in swift pursuit swept
the white horsemen, the clangor of the horn, the report of
Pistols and the shouts of the meu ringing out in triumph on
the air,
_ Eagerly our friends watched the wild pursuit, and anx-
lously they awaited the return of those unknown men, to
Whom they were indebted for their lives and all they poss-
€ssed. But they waited in vain. The mysterious horsemen
SWept away out of sight and were seen no more.
Fearful as the conflict had been, and great as was the say-
ges’ loss, the victory of our frietids was almost bloodless and
Without loss. Two men only had been wounded, but one of
these severely; and three mules had broken from the corral
and escaped.
The greatest fears of Octavia’s safety were now entertained.
A large number of the defeated red-skins had fled toward
Conejos, and as they were not being pursued, they would in
all probability overtake the maiden.
38 RED ROB,
They dare not weaken the defensive force of the train by
sending out men in search of her. They were afraid the In-
dians might rally and renew the attack, and between the two
extremities, moments of agonizing suspense and fear held the
party inactive.
Old Aunt Shady waddled to and fro, wringing her hands
ir the bitterest despair and bewailing the unknown fate of
her young mistress.
A riderless pony, with smoking flanks and steaming sides,
suddenly dashed up the road from the direction of Conejos.
All recognized the animal—it was Octavia’s.
Sadness and deepest sorrow fell upon every heart.
What was to be done? Evening was coming on, and
Conejos was fully four miles away, now lost in the shadows
of the grim old mountain beyond.
CHAPTER VII.
A NEW CHARACTER ON THE STAGE.
Ocrayra Sr. KeneLM was in peril. The very danger which
she might have escaped and which threatened her friends, befell
her. She rode back antil the train was in sight, and was a wit-
ness to the conflict. She saw the savages charging down upon
her friends. She saw the cannon belch its death-hail across -
the plain. She heard the yells of the savages and the shouts
of her friends. Still she kept on. In the awful tumult of
battle there was some horrible fascination that led her on
closer and closer to the train. Her attention was divided
between the conflict and that little band of horsemen sweep-
ing across the plain. She was satisfied that they were rang-
ers, and that that gallant, handsome boy was their leader.
She could see him at their head—she saw him sweep down
upon the red-skins and put them to flight. Then her young
heart throbbed with the wildest joy, and its love went out in
silent admiration and thanks for the noble deed of the noble
boy and his followers.
fi
8
Cc
In-
wo
the
\ds
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 39
Octavia’s eyes swam in a mist of tears as she watched the
flying Indians and pursuing rangers; and when they at last
singled out one form among the many, they followed it so
Closely that she failed to notice the approach of two savages
—a Kiowa and Arapaho—until escape was impossible.
The Arapaho dushed alongside of her and seized her pony’s
reins, while the Kiowa rode up, and seizing the terrified girl
around the waist, dragged her from her animal’s back, and
threw her across the withers of his own im front of him.
Octavia’s pouy became so unmanageable that the Arapaho
was compelled'to release his hold, when it dashed away down
the road.
The two Indians turned southward and galloped away with
their fair, helpless captive. Both were young men, and chiefs
at that. They were the leaders of the defeated bands then
flying in every direction across the plain.
They rode on in silence for nearly a mile, when they were
joined by several warriors—about an equal number of each
tribe. Among the Kiowas was a white renegade.
The warriors were highly elated over their leaders’ success
in capturing the beautiful girl. It compensated them, in a
Measure, for their recent terrible loss; yet these warriors
little dreamed of the struggle going on in each chieftain’s
breast.
The whole party moved on at a slow, wearisome gallop,
and when they had journeyed something near five miles, it
became necessary for them to halt and rest their overtaxed
animals.
Octavia was lifted to the ground, but she was so weak and
terrified that she could not stand without support. So a
+lanket was placed upon the sward, and she sat down upon
it and burst into tears. or the first time in her young and
happy life her heart was bowed in trouble and fear.
The young Kiowa chief stood upon one side of her with
folded arms, gazing upon her with that pride so thoroughly
Characteristic of the savage. The Arapaho stood on the
other side, looking none the less proud of the lovely
prize.
At length the ‘pent-up Utica” that had been surging in
these barbarians’ breasts burst forth.
40 RED ROB,
““The dark-eyed maiden will be a beautiful ornament in
Long Lance’s lodge.”
It was the Kiowa who spoke.
“ But that will do the lodge of Red Hawk no good,” said
the Arapaho, manifesting a disposition to cispute the Kiowa’s
right to the maiden.
‘‘ When the Kiowas and the Araphoes go on the war-path
together, the Kiowas do not claim the scalps the Arapahoes
take.”
‘©The Kiowa chief speaks the truth, and the white maiden
is Red Hawk’s captive. He was the first to catch her
pony.”
“And Long Lance captured the maiden. The pony is the
Arapaho’s, the maiden the Kiowa’s,” replied the sagacious
Long Lance.
‘“‘When the Arapaho shoots an enemy, does the Kiowa
steal the scalp?”
This retort was as stinging as it was significant, and the
eyes of the young Arapaho blazed as he spoke. The spirit
of the Kiowa was fired by the cutting sarcasm of his friend,
and the two were as ready to fight each other as they had
been to fight the whites a few hours previous. In fact, it was
»vident now that nothing but a conflict would decide the
siaim to the maiden; and if the dispute was forced to this
zxtremity the fight would be a bloody and desperate one;
or, ci sx:rse, the friends of each would participate, and
these were about equal in point of numbers.
The prize was not likely to be yielded without a struggle,
and the dispute waxed warm between the young chiefs.
ot words were flung at each other, and sinister eyes blazed
*¥ ith a consuming fire of resentment.
Otavia sat shivering with fear. She could not understand
what the disputants said, but their violent gestures, blazing
eyes and fierce, contorted faces told her that something terri-
ble was about to occur. She watched the movements of the
two chiefs, and when at length one of them drew his toma-
hawk, she felt certain it was to be buried in her brain. — But,
when she saw the white renegade hitherto spoken of, step be-
tween the enraged chiefs, something of the real truth dawned
upon her, and a fearful load was lifted from her heart. She
now
j effe
—Ual
of +
sity
arn
ma
Co!
no
in
Lid
a’s
es
n
r
seat
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 41
e
Ow became satisfied that the white man was endeavoring to
{ fect a bloodless adjustment of the dispute, and by the grad-
-Ual contraction of the scowls of rage and the terrible blaze
Of the eyes, she knew that he would succeed.
The chiefs sheathed their weapons and their men fell back.
_Then the renegade turned to Octavia and explained the
Situation to her; informing her that, to avert an appeal to
"Ms, the chiefs had, at his suggestion, agreed to let the
Maiden decide the question herself: that is, say which one she
Considered her captor.
“Between two evils of equal magnitude there is no choice,”
Was the maiden’s cool reply. ‘‘ The lamb can certainly have
0 choice as to which wolf devours it.”
“T know,” replied. the renegade, ‘‘but you’d better say
Which, and save a bloody muss.”
“You have my decision—both are demons at heart,” shc
"eplied, a little fiercely.
The outlaw turned to the young chiefs and explained he
a” when the old fire at once began to blaze up in theit
es,
“See here, red skins,” said the renegade, who really desired
to Avoid a conflict, ‘‘ the horses of the chiefs are strong and
Swift; let their speed determine the question and stop this
Ussin’. Do you see that pine out yander?”
He Pointed out a tree that stood about a hundred rods
South of them on the level plain, solitary and alone.
The chiefs answered in the affirmative.
“Do you see yan grove back thar?” and the white man
— to a dense clump of pines about fifty rods to thei.
eht.
The Chiefs answered with a nod of their plumed heads.
“Wal, now,” continued the peacemaker, ‘‘let the bone ot
“ontention—that’s the gal—be tied to that tree, then let the
Chiefs mount their hosses and light out, startin’ from the edge
yan grove. Then the one that beats to the tree, and lays his
Qds on the gal’s head fust, takes the ante—that’s the gal.”
“The head of White Coyote is deep with wisdom; Red
Hawk is willing,” said the Arapaho, promptly, for he felt
Satisfied that his pony was the fastest, and was anxious to be
*st in accepting the proposition; for then there would be no
esate y
RED ROB,
alternative, under the code of savage honor, but for the Ki
owa to submit to the ordeal. This the latter did, in pri =
terms: PD
** Long Lance will run with the Arapaho.” :
This seemed to afford general satisfaction, since the com §
promise was likely to prove a source of no little pleasant ex} §
citement. Horseracing under any circumstances is afavorit? 3
amusement of all those South-western Indians; but the priZ
for which the two chiefs were now about to run made this
occasion especially exciting.
The renegade made known to the captive the manner it
which the dispute was to be settled. He then assisted her t¢
rise, and placing her upon the back of a pony, started to
ward the lone tree upon the prairie, accompanied by twé
warriors. {
While Octavia was being conducted to the winning goal,
'
:
«
'
‘
i ee a ala alle
the whole party moved down close to the grove before men
tioned, and the two.young chiefs prepared themselves for thé
race. They stripped off every garment except their loin
cloths; removed their head-gearing and tied their long scalp”
locks close down to their heads, so that not a hair would im ©
pede the speed of their animals.
They next stripped their animals of. everything but the
bridles, which consisted of a hair-bit and rein. The ponies
were strong-limbed and fiery fellows; and each one, in the
tribe to which he belonged, bore the reputation of being fast. —
This made each party confident of victory.
Octavia was taken to the tree and bound to its trunk in an —
upright position. A lariat was passed several times around —
her body, between her feet and neck, and the trunk of the
tree, so that she could scarcely move amuscle. Thus secured,
the renegade and two savages went back to the starting point,
and poor Octavia found herself alone in a situation that well- »
nigh drove her mad. There were no hopes for escape, and
as she pondered over her situation, a new fear took posses-
sion of her mind. Knowing how treacherous the savages
were, she felt that it was no more than probable that the one
beaten in the race would bury a tomahawk in her brain.
With eyes swimming in tears of agony, she watched the
group of savages. She saw the chiefs mount their animals
ay
e Ki
brief
com
t ex}
orité
yrizt
the
r if
r t¢
to
two
pal,
;
ene
the
ine y
Ip |
he
ies
he |
st. ~
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 43
‘nd turn, facing down toward her. She saw the savages
Part on either side of their men; she saw the renegade step
ut to one side and elevate the muzzle of a rifle in the air.
he saw a little cloud of smoke puff out from the weapon—
Ssharp, splitting report crashed through the air—a savage
Yell followed, and the racers shot away over the plain!
At the same instant a terrible yell of surprise and the dis-
Charge of rifles told the two racers that something was not right
behind; but they would not, they dared not, glance back to
quire the cause of the alarm. One movement—the turning
of the head—might lose either one the race. But they were
Rot long to remain ignorant of the cause of the wild confu-
§lon which they knew was not occasioned by their excite-
Ment over the race, for close behind them a voice, mingled
With the clatter of other hoofs than their own animals’, sud-
€nly rung out, clear and distinct:
“ OPar the track, smoky-skins, for hyar we come a-boomin? !”
The next instant a horse and rider shot past them like an
arrow!
The man had dashed from the grove behind the savages,
€ instant the signal for the start was given the chiefs, and
all Tecognized in him a terrible foe. The chiefs uttered a
ty of horror as he passed them, and with the desperation of
Madmen urged on their ponies. The race was not now be-
Ween the two savages, but between the savages on the one
ide and an implacable foe on the other.
his foe was a person well advanced in years, with a
“mall, lithe form, clothed in the buck-skin of a borderman.
1S bearded face was thin and wrinkled; and his sharp chin
= long Roman nose lacked but a hair’s-breadth, so to speak,
forming a natural bridge over a wide, bearded mouth.
hj The horse this man bestrode was as antiquated in Jooks as
Mself ; but its speed was something wonderful to behold.
the man shot by the astonished chiefs he turned his
that was clothed in a broad, comical smile, and gave
utterance to a defiant shout.
© Teached the tree a hundred yards or so in advance of
© Savages, and drew up by Octavia’s side.
nig gal, stiddy!” he exclaimed, whipping out a long
©. “ve won the race, ar’n’t I? You're mine, by the
8
face,
44
RED ROB,
rampin’ tigers! Up here, now; you're free!—yquick, my good
gal, and you're safe! There! away, old mare. Into it now
—peg it down, Patience—scat /”
It had required but an instant for him to cut the captive’s
bonds, another to lift her to a seat before him, and then
away he went, while the Indians, with a fearful war-whoop,
thundered on past the tree, in pursuit.
““Good-by, smoky-skins,” the reckless old borderman
shouted back to his pursuers; “if you ketch us, you'll be the
fust that ever laid it across ole Dakota Dan, the great Tri-
angle, jist fresh down from the crisp Nor’-west!”
CHAPTER VIII.
THE NEW MASTER OF THE CAMP.
Tux ranger’s words were all lost to the ears of those they
were intended for, but to Octavia’s ears they were as tidings
of joy supreme. ;
‘Dakota Dan,” she repeated, as though she might be mis-
taken in the words; ‘‘is it possible that I heard aright?”
‘““Yes, mum, I’m Dakota Dan, jist down, fresh as a new-
plucked flower, from the Keya Paha; and proud I be of the
name, and the man, too, Miss. »Come, Patience, ole mare,
sail into it—show the gal yer bottom! Smoke of Jerusalem!
didn’t I play it skinflintically to em smoky varlets? I war
hid in that grove behind ’em, and when I sees what war up,
I says: ‘Dakota Dan, now, ole triangular, primp yerself and
try yer nerve.’ But they'll be more keerful next time. Whar
d’ye live, gal—up to Conejos?”
‘T belong to an emigrant train,” replied Octavia.
“Say ye do? How’s it yer down yer?”
Briefly as possible, the maiden narrated her adventure
from the time of leaving the train till her capture by the two
chiefs,
‘* Judea!” exclaimed the old ranger, ‘‘then that’s what
made that thunderin’ racket up that way. Thought it war
ro
~~
Y good
it now
Ptive’s
| then —
)
ley |
igs :
is- |
W-
1e
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i!
r
5
1
r , ?
pre me
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 45
a hurricane or a volkaner—got a cannon, hain’t ye? Licked
the red-skins, didn’t ye?”
Octavia scarcely knew which question to answer first, she
Was so delighted over her miraculous escape. However, she
answered her interlocutor’s queries as far as her own knowl-
edge extended.
“Well,” replied the reckless old ranger, times are a leetle
frisky down this a-way now, and one’s got to keep a-bobbin’
to dodge all the dangers.”
By this time the old borderman had placed nearly half a
Mile between him and the pursuing red-skins, who were now
directly behind him, coming on a straight line. It was the
desire of the ranger to get back to the grove from which he
had burst so suddenly upon his foe; and, in order to accom-
Plish this, he began bearing gradually toward the left. Ina
few minutes he was going directly north.
The enemy could have taken the ‘“‘ near cut” across and
gained considerably on him; ‘but, believing he was endeavor-
ing to draw them into an ambush, they relinquished the
Chase altogether. This was contrary to anything the ranger
had anticipated, as well as to the usual dogged patience and
Perseverance of savage vengeance. ‘
This turn of affairs enabled the ranger to slacken the speed
Of his animal, when he dismounted and gave the mare up
€ntirely to Octavia, he walking at her side with all the elas-
tie spring and sprightliness of youth.
The maiden protested against this self-sacrifice in her be-
half. It seemed to her that she was as well able to walk as
the old man.
“Bless you, little ’un,” the ranger responded, ‘‘ you needn’t
Worry one bit bout me. I’m growin’ younger in spirit ev-
ery day. My hair will git white, though, and ole Time will
Wear furrows into my face; but I reckon that’s all owin’ to
the climate one’s in, and the condition of his blood. ’Way
Up in the cool regions of Montana, one’s vital fluid gits purty
Cloggy-like-thick, ye know. But come down this way into
Dakota and Nu-braska, und it begins to thin up a leetle, and
One steps friskier; but, come on down here into Nu Mexeko,
and one’s blood gits so thin that it runs right out at the
Pores of the skin. Nothin’ but a good coat of dirt will keep
46 RED ROB,
a northern man’s blood in him down here; then the sun ©
bakes that on him, and he looks fur all the world like a
Mexekin. That’s what’s ailin’ me, Miss, but I hope you'll
excuse my looks. But, here we are, little °un—back to the
very grove that I went bulgin’ out of when the race com-
menced. Lor’, but it does me a mortal sight of good to
think how I waxed it to ’em smoky-skinned centipedes.
But then, I’ve fooled red-skins a million times in my life—
it’s my forte, I sw’ar it is, to foolish red-skins. Foolishness
of one sort or another allers did run natural-like in the Rack-
back family, and if one wasn’t a fool, he had the knack of
playin’ it to a demonstration, and then—”
‘* Bow-wow!”
It was the sudden and deep bay of a dog, coming from
the depths ofthe grove before them, that cut short the
ranger’s speech and forced a cry of surprise from Octavia’s
lips.
“Scorpions!” exclaimed the ranger, stopping short.
The next moment a dog came bounding through the shrub-
yery, and leaped upon the ranger, and frisked and capered
around the horse in an excess of joy.
“ There, now, gal,” said Dakota Dan, with an air of whim-
sical satisfaction, ‘‘there you behold Dakota Dan, the great
triangler red-skin extarminator. That”—thrusting out his fin
ger at the dog with manifest delight—‘‘that is Humility, my
dorg. I left him here to watch my gun and accouterments
while I sailed out and raked the ante at the hoss-race,” and the
old man went off into a fit of hearty laughter at the thoughts
of his own conceit.
“You see, Miss,” he continued, ‘‘I’m simply ole Dan
Rackback alone, but hitch in Patience, my mare here, and
Humility, my dorg thar, and you have the ‘ triangle,’ Dakota
Dan. We're a kind of livin’ clock-work—one part can’t
operate well without t’others: and when we git set a-goin’—
buckle right down to the work, Lor’! thea bounce, red-skins!
away, buffaloes! howl, varmints, and you, ye peraroes, dust!
You see, Miss, that dorg has a mortal sight of man gump-
shin. That bow-wow was a challenge, which, translated to
English, means, ‘Who comes thar? ‘ Scorpions,’ war the
counter-sign, or whatever ye call it, and then all war dis-
meng nines
tinctly
thar.
the t1
Scrat
Saint
She’:
goo¢
inh
the
tien
trac
|
Cor
Pa
eS ale le ae
S
|
le sun
like a
you'll
to the
com-
od to |
edes.
ife—3
Ness
ack-
k of
rom
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 4?
tinetly distinct. Yes, a noble pup, are Humility, my dorg,
thar. He’s a wonderful tooth for red-skins, and can foller
the trail of a bird through the air. He’s jest as good as ever
~ SCratched gravel from an Alpirie peak, or dug snow for a
Saint Bernard monk. And so’s Patience, my mare, here.
She’s a leetle thin jist at present, but can play tricks jist as
800d as any critter that ever tickled a’ audience—good blood
' her—jist as good as ever boxed Arabian soil or kicked
the day-lights outen an Arab. Yes, noble critters are Pa-
tience, my mare here, and Humility, my dorg thar. I could
ace their pedegree cl’ar back to Noah and the -ark.”
“I know from experience,” said Octavia, desirous of en-
Couraging him in his love for his dumb companions, ‘‘ that
atience is fast.”
the
ia’s
1b-
ed
ag ~tsnceie
at
wy
“Fast!” exclaimed the ranger, in apparent astonishment;
“why, bless yer little soul, gal, ye don’t know what fast is.
0u’d ort to see her do her best. As anillustrashin, I'll tell
Je, while we rest, what we done oncet, Patience, she played
lind, Jame and halt, and I played crazy. In this condition
We sailed into a crowd of Ingins to see what war goin’ on;
oY we war ranger’n’ for the Government then, and war actin’
Spy. Wal, we got in all right, but we looked so ’tarnal
‘ough and discomboborated, that the red-skins concluded to
ve some fun and make us run the gantlet. So’bout a
Million of them, more or less, formed in two lines facin’,
@nd started us down atwixt ’em, every sinner intending to
Whack us as we labored by. But Judea! I spoke to Pa-
tience and that’s the last they see’d of her. Away she flew
°wn that gantlet so swift that a crack, big as a tunnel, was
4et’ly split into the air, and then as the gap filled up again—
shed in from both sides, them red-skins war slapt together
that is the two lines—war jist sucked right in together so
“wfully that every red-skin war bu’sted. It’sa fact; but now,
iss, we'll go.”
The old borderman led the way from the grove and across
© plain toward the north.
He moved briskly, and just as the last beams of light faded
Tom the distant mountain hights they reached the train,
_ had gone into camp on the’ scene of the late con
ct,
—————
ih
48 RED Ros,
Amid the wildest excitement and shouts of joy, Octavis
rode into camp.
‘* Bress de Lor’ ob heaben!” shouted old Aunt Shady, clap
ping her fat hands with joy, and alternating between fits of
laughter and outbursts of tears.
Octavia introduced her rescuer to the party. The name
and deeds of Dakota Dan were well known to all, but it was
the first occasion upon which any of them had ever met the
distinguished scout and ranger.
Dan was for soon taking his departure, but on the earnest
and urgent solicitation of the men and Octavia, he finally
concluded to remain until morning. The emigrants also pre-
vailed upon him, as a matter of honor as well as necessity,
to take charge of the encampment, which he did with some —
reluctance, for he saw there was a great deal at stake. With
his characteristic open-hartedness and familiar ways, the ran-
ger set about his work of arranging the camp and _ horses
in the safest condition possible under existing circumstances.
After all had been secured, and two guards for the first
watch had been posted, the little band gathered in a group
near the center of the camp, and entered into conversation.
Lanterns hung from the side of the wagons, lit up the
scene. The late conflict was the principal topic discussed
and commented upon.
“This ’ere is a most all-fited, ticklish kentry, friends,”
said Dan, philosophically. ‘‘ If ye set down on the peraroe,
ten to one you'll git rite up and look daggers at the cactus
you sot on; and if ye lay down to rest, ten to one the lance
of a red-skin "ll be jabbed into ye. If it ar’n’t Ingins, why
it’s ‘ greasers,’ and if it ar’n’t greasers, it’s outlaws, and if it
ar’n’t outlaws, it’s the devil hisself. It’s mighty risky, I tell
ye, in you folks trampoozin’ this ’ere kentry with feminine
weemen, and afore ye git clean through to San Juan valley,
I’m afraid youll have skids of trouble. You see the great
‘friangle’s been gallivantin’ all over Nu Mexeko fur six
months, and have gct the lay of the land purty prim. And
we've had some fights too, that took every nerve of man, hoof
and howler to fetch victory or death. Lor’! we've shed gal-
lons and gallons of the best of blood since we’ve been down
here.”
sanenome
—_
Y, Octavia
dy, clap}
"0 fits of!
he name.
1t it was)
Met =
earnest :
finally :
SO pre- |
essity, :
some —
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first |
roup —
on.
the
‘sed
Pe
Oe,
‘us
ce
ry
it
ll
e
_
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 49
‘‘ Bress my soul!” exclaimed old Aunt Shady at this junc-
ture, innocent of any offense; ‘‘ guess you won’t shed much
more—awful lean ole sinner.”
** Always was, Aunt Shadder,” replied Dan, good-naturedly ;
“it runs in the Rackback family. Thar war ten boys of us,
and ole Mrs. Rackbatk used to stand us a whole summer in
the garden fur bean-poles, to keep us outen mischief; but I
growed faster'n the beans and pulled ’em all out by the roots,
and so I war took out of the garden and sent West to ‘ pre-
empt.’ But I'd ruther be lean than plump and fat like you,
Aunt Shadder. And I'll tell ye why. Buffaloes are so lean
down here that the Ingins kill all the fat folks to fry their
meat with.”
Aunt Shady groaned with horror, but her emotions finally
ended in a fit of laughter.
‘Then you have no idea, Dan, who those rangers were,
nor where they belong?’ Major St. Kenelm asked.
‘“* No more’n the man in the moon,” responded the ranger.
“They may b’long to some of the many military posts that
stud these ’ere southern peraroes. | What sort o’ lookin’ man
war their leader, or did ye see?”
** We did not see him,” St. Kenelm replied.
“I did,” said Octavia; ‘‘he was a young man, After I
left the train, he overtook me on the road, and we traveled
and conversed together. He was gentlemanly and courteous,
and dressed in a handsome uniform.”
*“You don’t say!” said the ranger. ‘‘if they’d a-turned
in and helped the Ingins butcher you folks, I'd ’a’ swore then
it war the outlaw gang of Red Rob, the Boy Road-agent.
Did he tell you his name, Octavy?”
**He did not,” replied the maiden, her face betraying
some inward emotion which did not escape the eyes of old
Aunt Shady.
‘Chile ob my ole heart,” she said, approaching the maiden
and gazing down into her face witha lugubrious look, ‘* what
under de sun and shinin’ stars ails you? Ar’n’t you in love,
chile, now say?”
Octavia blushed crimson and in a reproving tone replied:
‘“You must be crazy, Aunt Shady. Of course I love you
and brother Albert.”
50 RED ROB,
‘* Now, honey, do be keerful, and don’t forgit what de
Bible says bout Andynius and Sappfiry. Aunt Shady alers
know dat you lub her and brudder Al, but you neber blush
*bout it dat way. No, chile, your ole aunty knows dar am
sumthin’ wrong wid dat heart ob your’n, and to-morrow I'll
look into it. Ill sift it out, chile. I jist believe dat young
feller you see’d on de road to Cornjose has gwine off wid
your heart, and—”
“Oh, Aunt Shady, do be still,” interrupted Octavia, a little
provoked.
‘Well, missus,” said the old negress, relaxing into silence.
““Tf you do stop at Conejos,” Dakota Dan said, ‘‘ you
want to keep yer eyes on yer mules, yer hands on yer pockets
and yer breeches in yer boot-tops, or, by Judea, them Mexi-
cans will steal’em. They’re the dirtiest thieves that ever
wore ha’r—cowardly, too, as any coyote that ever howled in
the dark. They’d stab a dead man in the back and think
they’d got revenge. But if you jist show ’em your spunk—
the white of yer eye—let ’em b’lieve you’d ruther fight than
eat, then they’ll keep their places.”
‘“‘ Then the village is composed altogther of Mexicans, ig
it?” asked young Boswell.
‘* Mexican half-breeds, with a sprinklin’ of American roust
abouts, Dutch, Irish, Scotch and so on.”
‘Do they all steal?”
‘“ No; jist the ‘ greasers.’”
**T should think they could be broke of that,” said Tom
Gilbert.
‘“They can, lad. It’s no use sayin’ a Mexican can’t be
civilized and induced to quit bad tricks. When I war up to
Denver City I see’d as thievin’ a pack of ’em as ever robbed
a hen-roost, eternally cured of stealin’.. They war ketched
in the act, tried and sentenced to be hung up by the heels
over night. The judge said that stealin’ war a disease with
them—said it prevailed in the States to some extent; and
was called ‘kleptomony,’ or ‘ keep-the-money,’ or suthin’ like
that; and said the only thing that ’d cure it was an applica-
tion of ‘ pervershimheelsoverhedum,’. or some. big Latin name I
couldn’t figure out, that sounds like that. At any rate ropes
war provided and the diseased gentlemen marched down into
sepeceetet nee AT
a te Si
lerg
ush
am
ll
ory
HE BOY ROAD-AGENT, 51
“Yoop-ee Gulch.’ There the heels of the light-fingers were
elevated heavenward, and securely fastened to the limbs of a
majestic ole pine tree. Their heads jist teched the ground,
and the way them invalids bellered for mercy and pawed the
ground would make a bufiler-bull blush to the tips of his
horns. I tell ye what, ole Yoop-ee jist boomed; but, boys,
it war a good idea. The judge war right. It cured them
Mexicans of ‘ kliptoomany,’ and made quiet men of them.”
‘‘Indeed?” said Major St. Kenelm, failing to read the
twinkle in the old ranger’s eyes. ‘‘I should have thought
they would have been all the worse after such humiliating
punishment.” .
“Lord, no, major! It never done any sich a thing, for in
the night the coyotes and wolves went down into the gulch
and eat their heads off close up to their heels.”
A roar of laughter followed the old ranger’s story, and it
Was some time before quiet was restored. When it was,
however, the ranger rose to his feet, and turning to his dog,
Said:
“Come, Humility, we’d better go out and circle the camp,
hadn’t we?”
Humility licked his chops, rose to his feet, and crept softly
away at the heels of his master.
CHAPTER IX.
THE PHANTOM AZTECS.
Frercety, desperately and deadly waged the conflict be-
tween the mysterious old man, Basil Walraymond, and his
two companions on one side, and a horde of Ute savages on
the other, there in the solitude of the San Juan valley, with
the pall of night above and around them. The three white
Men seemed endowed with superhuman strength and shielded
by an invisible hand. The Utes were all around them, surg-
ing to and fro, a livingfvortex. The air above their heads
Was a broad and continual glare of flashing tomahawks.
o*
52 RED ROB,
Steel met steel in deadly clash and ring. Weapons flew
through the air in every direction, knocked from the savages’
hands by the sweeping gun-barrels of the miners.
The Indians could easily have shot them down, but it
seemed as though they were willing to sacrifice a score of
warriors that the whites might be taken alive. The dead
and wounded were trampled under foot by their advancing
comrades—a few moments more and by the sheer force of
numbers they overwhelmed the three brave men, who, borne
to the earth, were soon securely bound hand and foot. Then
they were permitted to rise to their feet, and contrary to all
they had ever heard of before of Indian customs, they were
blindfolded. But no sooner was this done than they heard
a voice speaking English and directing the movements of the
savages through an interpreter, in the crowd that still surge¢
and howled around them. This convinced the captives tha;
a white man had led the war-party into the valley.
Several minutes were taken up in the construction of litterr
upon which to convey the dead and wounded back to thr
village; but this done, and all secure, the procession starte¢
on its journey through the lonely halls of the grim old fo1
est. :
The captives walked with great difficulty, for the bonds
upon their ankles would not admit of a full step. And like
animals, they were led by means of a rope placed around
each one’s neck.
Only the soft tread of the many feet, the rustle of a bush,
and the faint murmur of the foliage overhead, broke the
solemn silence of the night.
Many and bitter were the thoughts of the captives as they
trudged on through the woods—whither they knew not.
Thus in one brief hour had all their hopes of the future,
whatever they were, been shattered by the hand of fate. All
their dreams of wealth had vanished, and they had awakened
to the horrible fact that they were no longer masters, but
doomed prisoners.
For weary miles they journeyed on through the woods.
To the captives each mile seemed a league. Pain caused by
~ walking lengthens distance fourfold, and crowds minutes into
moments if a certain length of time is to end that suffering.
sone IGS
lei —_
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. &8
As they traveled on, they became aware of one thing: that
Most of their captors had taken another route, or else had
fallen behind, and that most, if not all, of those remaining
Were white men. If so, they were satisfied the men were
Outlaws. As if to settle the question, a hilt was suddenly
Ordered, when a man came up to the captives, and, in a low,
Muffled voice, intended to be solemn, he said:
“Strangers, you are the captives of the Phantom Aztecs,
Upon whose sacred soil your infidel feet have intruded. You
Stand at the gate that opens to admit us to the temple in
Which the judgment hall is open for your reception.”
A ponderous door creaked on its rusty hinges. The cap-
tives were conducted into an inclosure where they could al-
Most feel the dismal gloom of the place. They walked upon
@ floor of solid stone that was carpeted with the dust and
Mold of ages; and it at once occurred to the mind of Basil
Walraymond that they were inside of one of those dismal
Old buildings in Quivira ruins.
They followed the passage some distance—at times over
an uneven and slippery floor—and finally turned an angle
into another passage or hall, which they traversed until a
door disputed further advance. This, however, was at once
Opened, and the captives were ushered into an apartment
Which they knew must be more capacious by the purity of
the surrounding atmosphere.
The three men were now seated upon a low wooden bench,
Side by side, when one of the captors addressed them thus:
“You are now at the bar of the judgment hall of the
Phantom Aztecs. The most high judge sits before you who
will preside over your trial and judge you accordingly. Be-
hold!”
The blindfolds were all suddenly removed from the cap-
tives’ eyes. The glare of lights dazed them for a moment,
but soon becoming accustomed to the change, they looked
Upon a scene well calculated to fill them with silent terror.
The room in which they sat was a large one, and its
Crumbling walls and ceiling verified the former suspicion of
Basil Walraymond—they were within one of those ancient
Tuins still to be found in the valley of the San Juan. There
‘Were evidences in abundance, however, of its having under-
54 RED ROB,
gone general repairs to make the place inhabitable; and in
the lurid glare of the torches that lit up the room, it pre-
sented a weird, solemn aspect. Around the room were
seated a dozen persons, all wearing long, dirty white robes
and masks of snow-white whiskers reaching to their waists.
A covering resembling a hood was upon each head. At one
end of the room and upon a kind of dais sat the chief priest
of the Phantom Aztecs, looking down upon the captives with
an assumed benignity. He wore no mask, for his long gray
beard corresponded well with those of his masked comrades,
and gave him a ghostly appearance in the dim light. A
curiously-wrought crown was upon his head. Before him
was a stone altar, and upon this burned a lamp that gave
forth a sickly blue light. In this light, however, the three
captives studied closely the face of the ‘‘most high.” It
was a face wearing the stamp of fifty or more busy years.
The features were strong in their characteristic outlines, but
hard, cold and cruel. The eyes were of a fiery black, and
shot their burning glances from beneath heavy, sullen brows.
There was little in the man’s looks calculated to inspire
hope in the breasts of the captives. They knew, of course,
that the ‘‘ Phantom Aztecs” farce was a glaring imposition,
around which had been thrown a mantle of false solemnity
and an air of mystery. They felt satisfied that if those ven.
erable masks and priestly robes were thrown aside, a band
of fierce and desperate outlaws would stand revealed.
Our friends were also satisfied. that they were not the
first men that had been led captives into that room, for the
‘‘ phantoms” went about their business in a way that showed
experience.
As soon as the prisoners had been seated, and time given
them to impress their minds with the mysteries of their sur-
roundings, the ‘‘most high priest” arose with solemn dig-
nity, and read, in a low, measured tone, or pretended to
read, from a roll of ancient-looking parchment, these words:
“The ‘Phantom Aztecs’ are the chosen people of God.
Away amid the fertile valleys, surrounded by snow-capped
mountains, of a new world, have they planted their seed and
their faith, and written upon tables of stone the history of
their deeds. But now, in the midst of their prosperity, what
comes? The Spanish Jesuit, with a dagger in one hand and
egy neem
re-
es
eacomeaneres
Oy
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 65
Peace offering in the other, The people of vie chosen few
Yeceived them, and at the same time a blow in the heart.
In followed. The temples of the sun have been destroyed
nd the watch-fires of the Montezumas gone out. But their
Spirits are still here—here to-night, where three hundred years
480 they walked in flesh. They shall still rule over the land
&nd sit in judgment upon the intruder till our land once more
“ems with wealth and prosperity. So saith the spirit that is
€ guide to the hand that writes this communication, in the
SPirit-land.”
He laid the ‘“‘ancient” document of the inspired spirit
§Side and said:
“Three men have been taken captives on the sacred soil
°f the Aztecs. Each and all of them will be given a chance
t0 speak—to plead for his life. If you do not desire to
SPeak, it becomes the duty of the “Judge of the Phantom
tees” to pass judgment upon you.”
The « judge ” sat down when the mysterious old man, Basil
alraymond, rose to his feet and said, in a calm, unmoved
One:
= Sir, I scorn your mummery—this mock and cowardly
‘ibunal I despise. You are a set of villains—thirteen of
YOu too cowardly to face three helpless men whom you en-
Sged a hundred savages to capture. You and your allies
Ve shot down innocent men who never thought of harming
You, then you hide your faces beneath masks and your forms
neath gowns of white. But mind you, sirs!” and the old
Man glanced menacingly and fiercely at the different forms
*tound the room, ‘the eye of the inscrutable Good secth
‘Very face here, and searcheth every heart!”
The form of the noble old man seemed to grow taller in
S Majestic grandeur, while his face was surrounded with
“halo of that exalted humanity which fills the heart with
Profound admiration, and which seemed to radiate the sub-
Mity of a soul bearing the image of its’ Maker.
en Basil Walraymond sat down, the judge again arose,
8nd in a tone that trembled with manifest fear or anger, said:
“That captive has- insulted the tribunal of Phantom Az-
“8, and I pronounce upon him the sentence of death in the
- ‘pit ut midnight! Have the other captives any thing to
=”
56 RED ROB,
“‘T wish to say—” said young odes springing to his
feet, but here his lips became sealed, as if his courage had
failed him in further utterance. This was not the caus
however, of brave Asa Sheridan’s sudden silence. Behind
the judge was a small, square opening in the wall, intended,
no doubt, as a window, and iu this opening he saw an object
suddenly appear that seemed to seal his lips with the silenc?
of death, and petrify his form to a stony rigidness,
CHAPTER X.
WHAT SHERIDAN SAW.
A wuitE face, set in aframe of golden hair, and clear-cut
as an ancient cameo. Dark-blue eyes with long, drooping
lashes. Ripe red lips, to which was pressed a snowy, taper:
ing finger—in fact, the face of a lovely young girl was the
object that had appeared at the opening behind the judge’s
stand and sealed the lips of Asa Sheridan. Her finger was
pressed upon her lips, and this, and the imploring look on
her beautiful face, was plainly significant as an order for si-
lence on ‘his part. He obeyed the silent appeal with an in-
voluntary impulse; and the face instantly disappeared.
‘Why does this captive hesitate?” demanded the judge of
the Phantom Aztecs.
‘‘Because I consider this court beneath my notice,” re-
sponded Sheridan, seating himself. But he regretted his hasty
words, the moment they were spoken. There was something
that now threw an air of the deepest gravity and earnestness
around the judgment hall to Sheridan. It was not the white —
robed figures, nor the emblems of mortality that decorated ~
the walls in repulsive ghastliness, nor the ghostly light around
them that had thus impressed him. It was that angelic face
that he had seen at the wiudow, and the order which the
silent lips had given. But it was too late to recall his words
now. ‘The judge rose and said:
“TI sentence that man to the Dungeon of Darkness, What
has the other prisoner to say?”
> to his
ge had
Cause,
Behind
ended, |
object
ilence
ia me IQ ae
ete ccm
{4K BOY ROAD-AGENT. 57
** Nothing,” replied Nathan Wolfe, ‘‘more than that I
would give a great deal to fathom the secret of that Centaur
we saw to-night in the valley.”
‘““That man,” said the “ most high,” ‘‘ will be held in
Londs for further trial.”
And thus ended the court of the Phantom Aztecs. The
lights were extinguished, and each of the captives led away in
a different direction through the ruins.
The blindfold was replaced over Walraymond’s eyes, and
while it was being tied, the voice of the judge said to his com-
panions in Spanish
** Yo conoceis que anciano.”
But Basil Walraymond knew enough of the language |
to understand what the judge said; viz.: ‘‘I know that old
man.”
It sent a shiver to the old man’s heart. It recalled a bit-
ter thought of the past. But he said nothing, nor showed
signs of the terrible emotions surging in his breast.
He was conducted along a narrow, damp passage to a door
which at once wheezed upon its rusty hinges, and admitted
the prisoner and his conductor into the open air; yet this air
seemed filled with the resinous vapor of burning pine; and
he could hear the crackle of fire, and the fluttering of the
flames.
‘* You are now in the tiger-pit,” said his conductor; ‘‘ stand
on your guard, senor.”
Then the bandage was removed, and the glare of a dozen
torches blinded the old man for full a minute; but when his
eyes had become accustomed to the light, he glanced around
him. He saw that he was in an open courtyard, around
which rose the massive walls of one of those ancient ruins
which had doubtless been used by its founders asa temple or
monastery. The main entrance—an arched doorway — was
blocked up with stone. On three sides, the buildings had
crumbled to ruins, leaving only about ten feet of the basement
walls standing. On the fourth side rose the old building from
which he had just come, and which looked as though it
might tumble down at any moment. These seamed, scarred
and time-worn walls, however, bore evidence of skillful archi-
tecture,
58 RED ROB,
Tall, rank weeds grew on the top of the ruins, and para-
sites clambered over and down the wall like a curtain of green,
as if nature had designed that the deformities of the ruins
should be concealed from view. ~
Blazing torches were fastened in niches and crevices in
the wall, and these threw a wavering yellow light over the
place.
The ground beneath the prisoner’s feet was covered with
white sand, and bore evidence of a late struggle—a bloody
combat. Andit must have been desperate, for here and there
amid the footprints that were twisted deep into the sand, were
dark spots where the thirsty earth had drunk up the life-blood
of the contestants.
From the top of the ruins a dozen ‘‘ Phantom Aztecs,” in
their venerable masks and white robes, looked down upon
the old man, who stood there with folded arms, his tall, mar-
tial figure appearing Titanic in the uncertain glow of the dim
torches.
Basil Walraymond knew not what was to come, but the
footprints and dark stains on the ground carried his thoughts
back to the gladiatorial days of ancient Rome. - This gave
him hope. He felt that he was the equal of any man in
physcial power and in the use of thesword. Fifty years had
blunted none of his fine sensibilities nor reduced his wonderful
energy and strength.
While he stood waiting for the appearance of his antago-
nist in the ‘‘tiger-pit,” as the place had been denominated,
something bright flashed suddenly across his vision, and was
immediately followed by the metallic clink of something
against the wall behind him, He turned. around without
manifesting the least curiosity and glanced downward. ” eel cael eae
CHAPTER XV.
RED ROB’S RAID.
Missourt Mout soon returned with the liquor.
‘Here, boy,” he said, ‘‘ drink this down and be a man.”
“See here, ole hoss,” said Dakota Dan, interposing, “ if
this boy wants to drink, I’ve nothin’ to say, but if he don’t
want to, you sha’n’t force it onto him.”
‘The roarin’ demon!” exclaimed the bully, in apparent
astonishment, at the same time tossing glass, liquor and al
over his shoulder behind him, regardless of whom they
struck, ‘‘what’s this? A man, ora mummy? What little,
ole, dried-up institution are you that dares to put ina lip ©
whar Missouri Moll, the King of the Stage, reigns supreme?
Why, man, I shall grind, pulverize to dust and sprinkle ovel
tnis floor your withered carcass.”
‘‘T don’t know anything ’bout your powers to grind uP
foiks,” responded. Dan, coolly, “but Pm determined you
sha’n’t carry out. your threat with that boy.”
‘“‘Durned if I don’t show you, ole dry-bones,” roared thé
bully; “ see here, ole Dutch oven, send over another mug of
‘strangulation.’ ”:
ae
"ll be
rl
you'll
ehind
3 boy
‘ that
low2
ll be
oun
and
the
‘if
n’t
‘7
A te
aR I Bet 8
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. V7
The last words were directed to the bartender’s wife, who
4t once filled the order, when a dozen eager hands flew to
€ bar to bear the glass to their master, Missouri Moll.
As soon as the glass was placed in the stage-driver’s hands,
the bully advanced toward the shrinking youth and reached
°Uut and attempted to seize his nose between his forefinger and
thumb. But at the same instant the form of Dakota Dan
‘ttaightened up and his bony fist was planted directly be-
‘Ween the eyes of Missouri Moll. The driver dropped like a
og to the floor, spilling the liquor as he went down. But
With a roar like that of a mad bull, he sprung to his feet
and Squared off, tore open his coller, shoved up his sleeves
8d was then ready to exterminate the old ranger,
The boy burst into a peal of laughter.
“The Lord e-ternal!” hissed the desperado, “I'll make
You Squeak outen t’other side of your mouth. Tl extarmin-
both of you—”
“Go in, King Molly, P'll back you,” cried Manuel Chica-
loo, the very individual whom the desperado had knocked
— a few minutes before; ‘T’ll’tend to that boy—lI’ll
‘tm him how to insult the King of the Stage—I’ll Yarn him
Qnhers, the insignificant little son of—”
The villain’s low, abusive words were here cut short by
the youth’s fist, which, quicker than thought, was planted on
© wretch’s mouth, knocking him back against the bar with
Tible violence.
The youth’s blow proved the signal for a general attack
"Pon himself and Dakota Dan.
el And, seeing the danger of his friend and the boy, St. Ken-
ma, Springing forward, became involved in the fight.
._ligh above the din of the conflict suddenly arose the
Plercing scream of a whistle. It issued from the midst of
“crowd. It caused an involuntary lull in the confusion.
. +he next moment a yell was heard outside. The tramp-
"Rg of hoofed feet was heard upon the street. The sounds
*PProached. The door was burst suddenly open, and, to
© horror of all, a masked horseman galloped into the saloon!
f is hand he held a cocked revolver. He was immediately
ollowed by another and still another; until a dozen mounted
Masked horsemen were in the room.
78 RED ROB,
Terror swayed the crowd.
“Red Rob! Red Rob, the Boy Road-agent, is upon us!”
burst from the lips of one.
Tt was enough. A panic seized the crowd, and a general
confused rush was made for the door and the windows —
The road-agents opened fire upon the confused mass. In %
few moments the saloon was deserted by all save the outlaw®
and three dead men.
Dakota Dan, St. Kenelm and the boy were also gone.
A yell that fairly shook the building burst from the lips
of the robbers as they ranged their animals around in front
of the bar, and called lustily for ‘‘ drinks.”
But no one answered their summons.
Finally one of the party dismounted and went behind thé
bar to wait on the others. To his surprise he found thé
bar-tender and his wife there, curled up under a sleeping
bunk.
The fat couple were routed out, and by strong argument
in the shape of a cocked revolver, were pursuaded to set out
the drinks and cigars until all were satisfied. Then one of
the robbers demanded:
‘* What’s the bill?”
The quaking, terrified German looked wild.
‘¢ What’s the bill, I ask?”
‘Mine Cott, nodings!” gasped the man, ‘‘if you leave jist
quick. Mine frow is almost to death scared, and trembles
in her pody mooch fast.” ~
‘“‘That’s not the question: what do.we owe you?” demand:
ed the masked road-agent.
‘Two dollars pay for all, but I no charge you if you g?
fast hurry away.”
Despite his remonstrances, the outlaw paid the bill, and
without further annoyance rode out of the saloon, and gal~
loped away toward the mountains.
By this time, however, Conejos was wild with excitement.
The name of Red Rob was upon every lip. But in the midst
of all, no one thought of attempting the capture of the young
outlaw. Self-defense was the only thought that filled. the
minds of the terrified populace, for all they had no need of
fear. They possessed nothing that the outlaws wanted—
gs tee 09
on us!” |
_ general
indows.
In 3
Outlaws
1e,
1e lips
front
1d the
d the
ping:
ment
t
ot
jist
les
nd-
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 79
nothing that they could make away with, and joy followed
the brief reign of terror, when it had become known that the
toad-agents, on leaving the saloon, had taken their departure
from the village.
The list of casualties at the saloon were four men killed
—including the one shot at the gambling table—and several
Wounded. Among the latter was Missouri Moll. He had
Teceived a wound in the fight with Dakota Dan and the boy
that was likely to lay him up for several weeks, as in fact it
did.
Dan and St. Kenelm escaped with but few bruises; but it
left their minds in a state of fear. They were afraid that
their participancy in the saloon fight would involve them in
future trouble; and the fact of their being at the saloon at
all would be instrumental in causing the withdrawal of the
friendship of the better class of the citizens.
“But we’ve got. to watch ’em, major,” Dan said, as they
Wended their way back toward camp; ‘‘they’re a set of
devils, and thar’s no tellin’ which side you’re fightin’ on, nor
Whose friends you're strikin’. Oh, Lor’! if I’d jist had ole
Patience, my mare, and Humility, my dorg, thar in that sa-
loon, the Triangle ’d been complete, and gracious man! no
tellin’ what ’d ’a’ happened.”
“T am really sorry that we got into any trouble at all,
Dan,” said St. Kenelm.
“So am I, major; and I reckon I’m to blame fur it all;
but I couldn't help it. If thar’s anything on earth that I’ll
fight fur, it’s for women and children, for I war a chile onc’t,
and my ole mother war a woman, When that boy came in
thar, lookin’ innocent-like, I couldn’t stand and see that ’tar
Nal big bully impose on him. But, mortal p’ison, major! a
Volkaner of strength and fightosity slumbered in that boy.
Ole Patience, my mare, couldn’t kick harder’n he struck that
‘ere Mexican; and I never see’d Humility, my dorg, flip
around spryer than he did.”
“Do you know how he came out of the fight?” asked the
Major.
“Never see’d him arter we closed in. I hope he got
through safe, though; for I tell ye, major, I took to that boy
83 natural like as water runs down hill. He’s nobody’s
80 RED ROB,
greeny, I’ll bet you. I think all his rural appearances war
put on. But be that as it may, whenever we meet him agin,
we'll meet a good, brave friend.”
‘Yes, we assumed the risk of our lives for him,” replied
his companion; ‘‘ but, Dan, it appears that one of Red Rob’s
men was in the saloon at the time we were.”
‘‘Even so, major; and the moment the fight began, he
called his pals by that ear-splittin’ whistle. Snakes of Jee-
rusalem! I thought judgment had come when I see’d the
reckless devils come a-gallopin’ right into the saloon and go
to shootin’ and bangin’ right and left, regardless of friends
or foes. I war jist sailin’ in handsomely on Missouri Moll,
churnin’ his physeognomy in splendid style, when they came
in. But that boy, major—did you notice him?—did ye see
his eyes? Major, I, Daniel Rackback, do firmly, positively
and honestly believe that that very identical boy war Red
Rob!”
“Indeed! I have thought so myself, Dan. Probabiy
we'll find out soon. He may give our camp a call before he
leaves the country,” replied St. Kenelm, uneasily.
At this juncture they reached camp, and found that their
friends were entirely ignorant of Red Rob’s raid upon Conejos.
CHAPTER XVI.
AUNT SHADY’S TROUBLES.
GREAT excitement prevailed in Conejos on the morning
following Red Rob’s raid upon the saloon. Of three men
that had been killed, not one had come to his death by a
bullet. In every case, knives had been the fatal weapons.
Several, however, had been wounded by the hoofs of the
robbers’ horses that thundered so suddenly in upon them.
But the most startling of all were the placards posted on
every road converging at Conejos, and upon which was writ-
ten this notice:
ces war
0 ag’in,
replied
Rob’s
an, he
f Jee-
1 the
id go
iends
Moll,
ame
' see
- Pern
herria
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 81
“Notice—any one injuring a hair of the heads of the old
man and his friend who visited the ‘ Swill-Pail’ last night, will
be shot without trial or jury. I am responsible for all that
Occurred in the fight there last night, and to me let the injured
look for satisfaction. Rep Ros.”
This seemed to renew the fear and excitement of the pop-
Ulace. All even feared to question each other as to the old
Man and friend referred to. They knew how fruitless had
been the efforts of the military to capture this band of dur-
ing robbers, and so the very name of hid Rob was sufficient
to impel obedience to the wishes of the young road-agent.
It soon leaked out, however, that the ‘“‘old man” referred to
Was the redoubtable Dakota Dan, the ranger; and “his
friend,” Major St. Kenelm. This discovery threw some sus-
Picions around the emigrant train—in fact, led to the belief
that it, or some of its members at least, were in some manner
Connected with the outlaws.
But this was all set aside in the minds of the law-abiding
People, what few there were in Conejos, by Dakota Dan, who
Went boldly into the village and made known the truth of
the whole affair.
This course proved a master-stroke of policy, for it at once
drew either the respect or fear of the citizens over to the em-
igrants. Dakota Dan was lionized by those who had been
his enemies, but the old ranger shook his head dubiously.
He would not be caught in a trap by the flattery of such
Men as he had seen in the Conejos saloon.
The. boy for whom he and St. Kenelm had fought could
hot be found, and the ranger now became satisfied that he
Was Red Rob.
The days wore as quietly away as could be expected, and
the time for our friends to resume their journey drew near.
Before their departure, however, an entertainment was to be
given by the citizens of Conejos in honor of their brief so-
Journ. This was to be a Jaile (a ball) or platform dance in
the open air, the chief amusement of the Mexican belles and
beaux. It was not to be a fandango, a name which many
Writers, through ignorance, associate with all Mexican dances,
but a ball of different dances—the American cotillion, the
Mexican cotillion and round dances.
82 4 RED ROB,
Through maidenly curiosity, Octavia St. Kenelm and Mag’
gie Boswell were both anxious to attend the ball, but theif
friends held the propriety of their going under careful con-
sideration. They grew very uneasy as the time for the ball
approached through fear the decision would be in the nega
tive; and Octavia finally resolved to appeal to Aunt Shady
and have her exert her influence upon her brother Al.
She found the old negress seated alone, some little distance
from camp, weeping.
‘‘ Why, Aunt Shady, what in the world is the matter with
you?” asked the maiden, seeing the tears chasing each other
down her sable cheeks.
‘*Oh, honey, dear!” sobbed the. old woman, “I’s most
awful sorry in my ole heart.”
“What has given you trouble and sorrow, Aunt Shady?”
‘‘Oh, Lor’ bless you, honey. I war jist thinking "bout
ole Kaintucky shore, and my little pickaninny—my little boy
dat—”
“Your little boy? Why, Aunty, I never knew you were
married.”
‘Tn course I was, chile; but my ole man he died, and my
little Henry Olay, he war put up on de auction-block one day
and sold, and den I nebber sees him no more. He war only
‘five years ole when he war sole, Octaby; and "bout de same
time your ole father bought me. Dat Henry Clay chile war
de sweetest, darlin’est little feller dat you ebber see. His ole
mudder’s heart war proud ob de little toad. He war jis’ as
smart as a cricket. But oh, Octaby, when ole massa told
me dat he sell my little Henry Clay, ebberything turn black,
den green, and I tried to hide my little chile in my heart;
but I couldn’t, and when he war taken away, it seemed I
would die dead. De little feller looked back, held up his
hands and cried, and called for his ole: mudder; but no one
but me and God, honey, heard dem baby cries. And so he
war taken away and I war left alone. But den when your
fadder bought me, I wer’n’t so lonesome, for den I hab my
little Octaby to love. But now comes anudder sorry—an
awful secret, honey.”
“An awful secret, aunty? Goodness! I thought you
were always the happiest old woman on earth—without
tr
— Mm
ind Mag-
ut their
ful con-
the ball
1€ nega-
Shady
istance
T with
other
most
dy ”
bout
boy
vere
my
lay
ly
ne
ar
le
is
d
,
,
ee
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 83
troubles or cares, and now here you are with one of those
Mysterious things called secrets.”
‘* Yes, honey; and it all concerns yoahself,” and Aunt
Shady burst into a flood of tears that almost melted Octavia’s
heart with pity.
Dropping on her knees at the old woman’s feet with tears
‘in her dark eyes, the maiden asked:
“Ts the secret of which you speak concerning me,
Aunty?”
‘* Yes, chile, all concernin’ you. But I can’t tell it to you
yit, Octaby. Tl tell all ‘bout it some day. I promised
your ole father and b’loved ole Massa St. Kenelm—not dat
One what sole my little Henry Clay—when he went away
dat—”
“* Went away?” exclaimed Octavia; ‘is my father not
dead?”
“Don’t people go away when dey die, honey. My ole
Man is ’way up in heaben wid de Lor’, and dar’s whar dis
Ole soul ’spects to go some day. But when ole massa went
away, as-I1 war gwine to say, he said: ‘Shady, if I—if
Sumthin’ don’t happen to Octaby inside of twelve years, you
Can tell her the secret of her life—that is, if you are living
—twelve years from dis very day and not before. I prom-
ised him all dat.”
“* And does brother Al not know the secret of which you
Speak?” asked Octavia.
“No, chile, he known uffin’ "bout it. When he know de
Whole thing, I know it ’ll make his heart sad. Oh, deah!”
You’: tell me what it is, won’t you, Aunty?” Octavia
asked, looking up into the old woman’s face.
““Not yit, chile; de twelve years will not be out yit fur
four long weeks; den I tell it all, though it break my ole
heart, and I ’spects it will break my poor, darling Octaby’s
heart and Massa Al’s too. But I promised do old massa I’d
do it, and-de good angel ob my soul recorded my words on
de big book/in heaben.”
For a moment both the old woman and her young mis-
tress were silent—plunged deep in the labyrinths of thought.
Finally the negress continued:
“And den dar am anudder trouble in my heart, Octaby.”
84 RED ROB,
‘* Another trouble?” repeated Octavia, im painful sur-
prise; ‘‘you are the embodiment of secrets and troubles,
Aunty. I wish I could relieve you of some of them.”
‘* Law-sakes-alive! Bress your soul, honey, you're jis’
speakin’ right outen your heart-now, Octaby. Now tell me,
chile, ar’n’t you in love?”
‘‘ Why, what a question, Aunty Shady. Is tuat what
troubles you?”
‘‘ Hain’t dat enuff to? Ebber since dat day dat you met
dat young ranger boy, on de road to Cornjos, you’ve been
kind a thoughtful and dreamy-like. I know you love dat
fellah you talk ’bout, now don’t you?”
Octavia laughed a clear, musical laugh. Aunt Shady,
too, in that hearty, good-natured way of hers, adding, with
a knowing shake of the head:
“‘'You can’t fool your ole Aunty, chile. She young once
too—”
‘“‘ And loved some one, I dare say,” put in the maiden.
‘* No, not ebbery young squirt dat come along, for, chile,
your ole Aunty used to be as gay a colahed gal as dar war
in all Kaintucky. And dar war a dozen—oh, law-sakes,
yes; a hundred young colahed chaps tryin’ to shine round
your Aunty, but I jist up and sack dem ebbery last one.
But dar war one, Sam Johnsing, a gay young nigger, dat
kept a-coming and a-coming still, and at las’ yer Aunt Shady
got her dander up and she jis’ took dat nigger by de collah
and sent him a-bouncing. -Den I married one ob massa’s
niggers dat war a good man, and loved de Lor’. And dat’s
jist de way I'd do wid dat young ranger boy, chile, if I war
you.”
“‘T may never see him again, Aunty,” replied Octavia,
with a roguish smile. ‘‘ Moreover, I don’t know whether he
wants to marry, or loves the—”
“Oh, pshaw! you don’t understand what I say,” inter-
rupted the negress. :
‘‘ Well, it don’t make any difference. The young man
will not know where to find me when we get over the moun-
tains.”
‘“‘ Law-sakes-alive! You can’ hide from a fellah dat’s
lovin’ you. Love in a man has an instinct dat’s like de
lose
Well
he v
See 1
sing
and
—a
ity
de
sir
sur-
des,
jis’
ne,
lat
THR BOY ROAD-AGENT. 85
Nose ob a bloodhound. Why, didn’t I hide in de ole dry
Well onc’t when Sam Johnsing war a-coming? and didn’t
he walk right slap-dab up to de well and look down and
See me and laff? Den I fired up and says I: ‘Sam John-
Sing, what fur you come here? and he 'said he war dry,
nd went dar to git a drink, but, tut! it wa’n’t so, honey,”
~~and Aunt Shady gave her head a disdainful toss—“ for
© wa’n’t no well at all—nebber had been—only a deep hole
de big boys had dug playin’ ‘ hunt gold.’”
“Aunty, you speak as though the ranger loved me.
‘Ho knows that he has ever given me a second thought
Since we parted?”
“T does, dat’s who. No youngester wid a spark ob true
Manhood in his bosom could see you and not fall in lub wid
You, honey.”
“You are very flattering in your compliments, Aunty.”
“Well, honest-bright, Octaby, don’t you lub dat boy?”
“Aunty Shady,” said Octavia, seriously, “the image of
that young man is constantly before me when I am asleep
tnd awake. Sometimes I find myself looking around in
°pes of seeing him. I am always expecting something, I
‘© not know what; and now, if this is love, then I love that
Young ranger and am not ashamed to—”
“Yes, dat’s lub—de very fust symptons ob de disease,
Chile, . Your ole Aunty knows how it act on de constitush-
‘ng. Dar am always sumthing wanted, but no telling what,
When one’s in lub.”
“Changing the subject, Aunty, won’t you prevail on
brother Al to take me to the ball to-night? I just want to
See how the young folks in this miserable country appear.”
“T expected dat; but den I war young onc’t, too, and I
tells you, Octaby, dar wa’n’t a colahed gal in all Kaintucky
at could beat your Aunty at a colahed hoe-down, as we
Wed to call’em, dem days. I could jist beat de world
“Ncing juba, or cutting de pigeon-wing, and ’xpects I could
Skip *round right lively yit. Yes, I likes to see one be
Young when dey can. Massa Al will let you go—said he
Would go wid you and Miss Boswell, but he told me not to
tell you, so I won’t, honey,” and the old woman went off
Mto a merry outburst of laughter.
86 RED ROB,
CHAPTER XVII.
THE MEXICAN BAILE.
Octavia was highly pleased over her prospect of going t0
the baile, and yet she was seriously impressed by the revela-
tion of the negress concerning the secret of her life. She
thought it very strange that a mystery should cloud her life
that had glided along so smoothly ever since she could re
member, She wondered what the secret could possibly be,
and as she could conceive no answer, she quieted her emo-
tions by the self-assurance that it was nothing for which she
herself was responsible.
As to her love for the young ranger, she experienced no
regrets in admitting to herself the truth of the matter—that,
from the moment she looked into his eyes, she loved him.
She could not help it.. But where now was the object of her
love? Would she ever see him again?
These and many other questions arose in her mind, but
being unanswerable, they filled her heart with a vague, pain-
ful longing.
The evening was finally ushered in, and with the first shades
of twilight, the stirring sound of the music of violins floated
out upon the ‘balmy air. It came from the clump of trees
about a hundred yards south of camp, where the platform
for the badle had been constructed. The sound rose and fell
with the variations of the tune, now high, now low, now soft,
now strong—all swelling forth with a sweet, enchanting
melody. It roused the spirits of the young emigrants, and
the old ones, too, for that matter. Aunt Shady was taken
with a sudden fit of youthful enthusiasm and began to “‘cut
the pigeon-wing”’ with all the wonted spiritedness of a maid of
twenty.
The sound of fluttering feet keeping time to the music
soon became mingled with the ravishing strains that floated
up from the grove. It was an inviting temptation—one that
youth could not resist.
M
siste
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afte
ion.
sur
sur
for
Per “a bi
ng to
Vela-
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1 re-
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l-
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 87
Major St. Kenelm, accompanied by his sweetheart and
Sister, went down to the scene of festivity and amuse-
Ment. Some of the men had preceded them, others came
after.
Several large bonfires contributed their light to the occas-
ion. The platform upon which the dance was held, and its
Surroundings, were lit up with a glare as if of the mid-day
sun.
A row of seats was arranged around the edge of the plat-
form for the dancers’ accommodation, and to one of these the
Major conducted Maggie and Octavia, and seated himself be-
tween them.
A number of couples were already on the floor, engaged in
&slow waltz. This the major considered fortunate, as it
attracted much of the attention from them, and the maidens
Were saved the embarrassment of running the gantlet of fifty
or more pairs of inquisitive eyes.
St. Kenelm surveyed the crowd with a critical eye. Those
that took part in the amusements of the evening were orderly-
looking people, well-dressed, well-behaved and courteous, that
JS, in their way of viewing such things; although they were
Somewhat at variance with our friends’ views of social man-
Ners. There were a number of bright-eyed senoritas there,
dressed in their short frocks and slippers; and young men of
different nationalities, trigged out in the gay, flashy suit of
the ranchero, and others peculiar to the Spanish-Mexican
Youths of the country.
Outside, where lurked dim shadows among the trees, were
Congregated clumps of spectators, mostly such roughs and
desperadoes as composed the crowd at the “ Swill-Pail,” the
Previous night. And several of them St. Kenelm recog-
nized, but with their bearded faces were associated no very
Pleasant recollections. However, they were all quiet and
Orderly.
Several young men, handsomely attired, came in from
adjoining towns and ranches. A few of them were strangers
there, but this seemed to give the party little concern, and
the youths were admitted without a word to the platform,
Where they at once entered into the full spirit of the occa-
Sion. And if there was any preference shown by the
388 RED ROB,
senoritas for the assembled youths, it seemed to be i
favor of those who were strangers. In fact, the maidens
seemed to vie with each other in making the young strangers’
evening at Conejos one of pleasure.
Our three friends studied every action and movement of
the people closely. They saw that they possessed none of
those rigid formalities of politeness and social etiquette to
which they had been accustomed; and which, to some,
makes fashionable society burdensome. All acted out theif
natures in a mutual sociability. Their gallantry and senti-
ments were the spontaneous outburst of their natures, In-
troductions were entirely dispensed with. If a gentleman
wished a partner for the next waltz or cotillion, and he was
a stranger, he had only to select his lady and make his
wishes known. It seemed an incumbent duty for her to ac-
cept, at leas. she always did, and all went on merrily as ever.
Our friends, by close observation, soon became posted in
all the particulars pertaining to society in this far south-west-
ern land.
Both Octavia and Maggie loved to dance, but they felt
it would be useless for them to attempt those strange figures
and steps among those born dancers, whose women were
perfection itself in the art—their movements so graceful;
their rising, falling, bowing, sinking and waving of hand-
kerchiefs so in keeping with the tune that they seemed to
float upon the ‘varying waves of the music.
The ‘‘ proprietor” of the dale waited upon St. Kenelm
and his fair companions, and invited them to take a part in
the dancing. They declined on the ground of being unac-
customed to their steps and dances.
‘* Si, senor,” replied the proprietor, ‘‘your American
dances—your cotillions and waltzes we dance sometimes,
and a set for a cotillion A soon be called especially for
your pleasure.”
‘“‘Thank you, sir,” replied St. Kenelm, “ but we only came
here as spectators, and have no desire to expose our ignorance
of the ‘ light fantastic toe.’ ”
“No excuses, senor,” replied the Mexican, with a smile.
““I will make an announcement for a cotillion soon, and
hope you will respond.”
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 89
The proprietor glided away and the dancing went on.
St. Kenelm, and the maidens at his side, continued to
Watch the graceful forms, whirling, circling and floating
away in the giddy mazes of the waltz.
Suddenly the major felt his sister clutch his arm with a
ot start, while a little cry of surprise burst from her
Ps. :
“Why, sister,” he said, ‘‘ what is the matter?”
“There he is, brother—the young ranger who rode with
Me—who saved the train from an Indian massacre,” re-
Plied Octavia, her face flushed and her lips quivering with
Motion.
“Where?” asked the young man.
“That is he standing on the corner of the stage with
the embroidered Spencer jacket and gold-banded hat,” said
Octavia.
Albert St. Kenelm had no difficulty in selecting the form
Of the person referred to. It was that of a youth of per-
haps eighteen years of age. He was dressed in a suit of
Costly fabric highly ornamented, and after the style of a
lexican ranchero.
This youth had just arrived, and his handsome face, his
fine form and unobtrusive martial air, set off in his flashy
Uniform, rendered him a conspicuous object for many in-
Quisitive and critical eyes.
When St. Kenelm had singled him out, the youth stood
With the side of his face toward him, yet with this partial
View the major became vaguely impressed with the belief
that there was something familiar about the boy’s features;
but to save him, he could not recall the face from the depths
of the past.
However, he kept his eyes upon the youth, whom he, as
Well as old Aunt’ Shady, knew had won his sister’s heart.
€ saw the young lad run his eyes carefully over the as-
_ Sembly, and when they finally caught sight of Octavia’s face
when their eyes met, there was that mutual recognition
of two loving hearts visible in the faint smile, the drooping
€yelids and the momentary embarrassment of each.
The young ranger’s search seemed ended now, and he
turned his eyes upon the dancers
90 RED ROB,
St. Kenelm studied his face closely, then said, in a reflec
tive tone:
“He is a manly-looking youth, Octavia, and i have cel
tainly met him before. But it was not in Missouri, nor i2
St. Louis, nor on the way here, I am sure.”
“‘T know I never saw him until the day before we reached
Conejos,” said Octavia.
‘* Let me see,” continued the major, thoughtfully, ‘‘ wasn’t
it the night I was at the ‘ Swill-Pail’ saloon that I saw him?
—yes, by heavens, it was! That is the very country-boy
that came in dressed in citizen’s clothing, and looking s0
‘green’ and awkward, and whose presence there got Dab
and I into trouble. Yes, it’s the very same lad.”
‘* Are you sure of this, brother?” Octavia asked.
“Tam positive of it now, and shall manage to speak to
him soon. That boy is a verification of the old adage,
‘ Still watersrun deep.’ Since you and he exchanged glances,
sister, I know full well the feeling that exists between you
and him. You love him, Octavia, and before your acquaint-
ance goes any further, I must know who he is, where he be-
longs, and in fact all about him. I observe that he is the
center of an attraction that seems very inquisitive, but he
meets their impertinent glances without flinching. He is
the very boy, yet how different he appears, from when Mis-
souri Moll tried to force the liquor on him. I think now
there was a purpose in the unsophisticated look he assumed
when he entered the saloon. It is queer these people don’t
inquire into the character of a stranger before he is per-
mitted to take part in the dance. I dare say he will soon
march up to some Mexican belle and lead her right out upon
the floor without the least ceremony.”
At this juncture the music ceased and the dancers sought
their seats,
Then the announcement was made that a “set for a cotil-
lion would form on the floor.”
Before the words were scarcely uttered, the young stranger
was seen making his way across the staging toward our three
friends,
eo
reflec:
re cel-
nor in
ched
asn’t
him?
-boy
2 so
Dan
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. $i
CHAPTER XVIII.
A STARTLING ANNOUNCEMENT.
As he approached, the young man put out his hand to-
Ward St. Kenelm, saying:
‘Senor, I am supremely happy to see you here, and to
know that you escaped unharmed.”
‘*T presume I know,” replied St. Kenelm, grasping the
Youth’s hand, ‘‘ what you have reference to.”
‘“The saloon,” said the lad.
‘““The same,” responded the major, ‘though I scarcely
Tecognize the bashful boy in citizen’s gray in yourself.”
The youth smiled, and, turning to Octavia, lifted his hat,
and said:
“ Senorita, E congratulate you on your escape from the
Savages the evening I met you on the road.”
““Thank you, sir,” Octavia replied, blushing crimson al-
Most; ‘‘and to you, I believe, is owing the salvation of our
Whole train.”
“Tt is a pleasure to know that I was near enough to be of
~ Service to the train. But, fair senorita, you and I are Amer-
icans, and Americans dance cotillions. Would you honor
Me with your company, this dance?”
“* With pleasure,” replied Octavia, half unconsciously, and,
Tising to her feet, she accepted the proffered arm of the
young cavalier, and was escorted to the floor.
Major St. Kenelm did not approve of this act of his sister.
To him it seemed too familiar for such limited acquaintance.
But then he saw that Octavia’s girlish infatuation had led her
away, and while he decided not to reprove her for this first
unbecoming act, he determined it should not be repeated on
that or any other occasion. He felt in no way indignant
toward the youth, for he but followed the too familiar cus-
toms of the country. Moreover, he, as well as the whole
‘train, was under a life-long obligation to the boy who had,
92 : RED ROB,
upon Octavia’s own evidence, saved the whole train from an
Indian massacre.
The music finally struck up, and Octavia and her compan-
ion were soon whirling away in the dance.
The major and his pretty sweetheart watched them with,
an admiring gaze through the whole dance. When the music
at Jength ceased, the youth escorted Octavia to her former
seat by her brother’s side, and thanked her with the fervent
gallantry of a young knight, for the honor she had conferred
upon him. Then, with a polite bow to all, he turned and
moved away toward the opposite end of the platform.
He was near the middle of the floor, when a rock, hurled
by an unseen hand, whizzed past his head and struck the
ground several paces beyond. Another stone fell on the
floor at his feet.
The’ youth stopped on the floor and gazed around him,
with a calm, defiant look, for the authors of the cowardly act.
‘“That’s him! that’s him!” suddenly burst from the lips of
one of the rowdies standing off at one side, ‘‘ that’s the very
lark that caused the trouble t’other night at the saloon.”
The boy advanced to the edge of the platform, and, fold-
ing his arms upon his breast, said, ina calm, defiant tone:
“Villains, I defy you!”
For a moment a general row was threatened. The roughs
gathered in a body at one side, brandishing knives and pistols
and uttering fearful execrations.
The manager of the baile advanced to the edge of the plat-
form and addressed the rabble in kind words, begging them
not to raise a disturbance in the presence of the females.
But he was only answered by clamorous demands for the
boy, and, like wolves, gradually growing bolder, they edged
and crowded toward the platform.
They held the balance of power.in point of numbers, and
a knowledge of this fact emboldened them.
‘“We want that boy,” shouted one of the desperadoes;
‘he’s the very chap that caused the death of Zeke Tarlo,
Tom Eakers and Long John t’other night at the ‘ Swill Pail.’
We don’t want to raise a fuss here, but we do want that
young, white-livered cuss, and, what’s more, we'll have him
or die.”
n an
pan-
rith
Isic
ner
ont
ed
nd
e
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 93
: “Gentlemen, or rather rowdies,” said the youth, advanc
ing to the edge of the platform nearest to them, ‘‘ I’m afraid
You'll die, for you can not have your wish gratified. I did
Not enter the saloon the other night to raise a disturbance,
&nd so I am not responsible for the death of your fricnds.
I sincerely regret that there was any blood shed at all; though,
I daresay, Conejos and the world would be better off to-day
if you had all been killed. I did not come here to-night for
@ fight, and at any other time I am willing to meet you
Whenever and wherever you may appoint, and adjust this
Matter—this grudge you hold against me for fancied in-
Juries.”
“Hear, will ye?” roared an outlaw, ‘the young squirt
talks as though he war a host. But, that won’t work, my
gay and festive young cuss. You can’t intimidate us fellers
that’s on our muscle. You’ve got to walk-the-chalk right
Out of thar, or else we’ll snake ye out by the heels.”
By this time the confusion among the dancers amounted
almost to.a panic. Maggie and Octavia were trembling with
terror. A commotion of fear swayed the crowd. The des-
Peradoes advanced still closer and closer toward the brave,
Unflinching boy.
““ See here, villains!” the youth suddenly exclaimed, in a
Stern, resolute tone, holding above his head, between his
thumb aud forefinger, a small silver whistle which all could
See distinctly, ‘‘if you persist in a row here, I will make it
& bloody one for you. You will not get off as you did at
the saloon the other night. You have scorned my power—
you have mocked my youth; but let me tell you, despera-
does, that one blast upon that whistle will bring a troop of
armed men upon you. J am Red Rob, the Boy Road-agent,
and my men are within call-yea, even within sound of my
®oice /”
These words fell like a thunderbolt upon the ears of those
Who heard them. Tle outlaws recoiled from the presence
Of the youth as if from the mouth of a cannon about to be
fired. The dancers became panic-stricken and fled from the
Platform in wild confusion.
At the end of one minute but a single person remained
Upon the platform or within the glare of the bonfires.
94 RED ROB,
And that person was Red Rob, the Boy Road-agent.
A smile of grim trrumph lit up the face of the young out-
law; then he uttered a series of ‘‘ clucking” whistles, when
a riderless horse—a beautiful cream-coiored or ‘* buck-skin”
mustang stud, with a white mane and tail, and handsomely
caparisoned, galloped from the darkness into the glare of the
lights.
The youth spoke to it; it came alongside of the platform;
the young outlaw mounted it and galloped away. And soon
the clatter of four score of hoofed feet was heard, retreating
from the lower end of the grove, in the direction of the
mountains.
CHAPTER XIX.
ZELLA AT THE GROTTO,
A wait as if of agony burst from the lips of the negro
boy, Slyly, when he saw Asa Sheridan stagger and fall in a
dead faint in the mountain grotto, whither he had conducted
him.
‘‘ Oh, de good Lord hab marcy!” the youth cried, rolling
upon the earth and tearing at his head as though a nest of
hornets had attacked him; ‘ what will dis poo’ nigger boy
do? He’s dead as sure as de Lord’s in heaben, and de
young missus told me—boo-hoo!— Oh, de Lord help me!”
A thought appeared to enter the youth’s mind all at once,
and, springing to his feet, he glided out of the grotto, and
sped away down the mountain steep with all the speed of a
Tyrolean youth on his native Alps.
But a brief period had elapsed ere he returned, followed by
a female. ;
A ery of joy burst from the boy’s lips, and he executed a
leap into the air that would have done credit to a gymnast,
as he entered the grotto. For in the dim glow of the light
he had left burning in the retreat he saw that Sheridan had
recovered from his swoon, and was just finishing the painful
task of binding up his wound.
' out:
vhen
cin”
nely
the
m;
on
ng
he
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 95
“Oh, Missus Zella!” he shouted, clapping his hands in an
€xcess of joy; ‘‘ de young man’s come to—he’s alive again.
Lyi, missus, and ar’n’t dis nigger chile tickled plum to
death!”
*“You were wounded, were you, stranger?” asked the sweet,
low voice of the woman, advancing toward the young man,
and pusliing back the shawl that was thrown hood-like over
her head.
Sheridan raised his eyes and beheld the beautiful face that
he had seen at the window of the “ judgment hall,” the face
Of the angel, who had been instrumental in delivering him
from the dungeon of the ruins. A thrill of indescribable joy
Shot through his whole frame, and his heart took new cour-
ge and grew stronger in that feeling which the first glimpse
Of her fair face had awakened within it.
The sweet, blue eyes of the girl looked down upon him.
With a light of angelic serenity shining from their azure
depths. The pretty face was flushed and clothed in an ex-
Pression of the greatest anxiety. She was excited and nearly
Cut of breath in consequence of her hasty ascent of the steep
Mountain side.
Sheridan comprehended the whole situation at a glance.
Frightened by his fainting, Slyly had hurried away and
brought his young mistress there; and seeing the maiden was
aiarmed, the wounded man hastened to relieve her of her
fears.
“Yes,” he replied, with an air of relief, ‘‘I received a
Tifle-wound as I sped across the open space, between the
Tuins and the chaparral, at the foot of the mountains. But,
My dear, unknown young friend, the wound is so very slight
that I am almost ashamed to admit that I fainted when I
€ntered this grotto. I am very sorry that you have been
Put to unnecessary trouble after doing what you have for
Me.”
“Then you know who I am?” the maiden said, gazing
€arnestly into the young man’s face.
‘TI suppose you are Zella. Am I right?”
““Yes, sir; I am Zella.”
‘The same whose face I saw at the window of the ‘judg-
Ment hall? ”
96 RED ROB,
“The same.”
‘*God bless you then, Zella!” the young man exclaimed,
thankfully; ‘‘ you have been an angel of mercy to me.”
‘*T have done only what I considered it my duty to do—
what my heart’s instinct, my woman’s sense of mercy guided
me in.”
‘‘ Heart’s instinct?” repeated Sheridan to himself, his own
heart giving a great bound; ‘that I would call love, Can
this angel of mercy—this pure, modest flower hidden away
here amid the San Juan ruins—can it be possible that she
cares for me?”
His mental questioning was here interrupted by the sweet
voice of Zella, who, turning to Slyly,. said;
“‘Slyly, you will go out and keep watch. A close search
is being made by the men, and some of them may have seen
us, and will attempt to follow. Keep within speaking dis-
tance of the grotto.”
“Tl do dat, Missus Zella,” and the ebon-colored boy
bounded out into the darkness.
Then Zella turned to Asa Sheridan and said:
** You may think it immodest of me, young stranger, in
coming to you here. But Slyly told me you were wounded
and bleeding to death. I knew he could do nothing; so I
came myself.”
‘* For which I shall never cease to be grateful to you, Miss
—Miss Zella,” Asa replied, in a tone of the deepest interest.
‘‘ Although my wound is simply a flesh-wound which I suc-
ceeded in binding up alone, I feel as thankful to you, for
your good intention in coming here, as though you had saved
my life. The principle of the good Samaritan is all the
same, But, Zella, I am astonished to find a single rose
blooming among so many deadly thorns.”
‘*T do not understand you, Mr.—”
“Sheridan,” said the young man, ‘‘Asa Sheridan is the
name. I had reference to yourself among so many—so—”
“‘T comprehend now, Mr. Sheridan,” answered the fair
girl, sadly, and with a mortified look; ‘“‘but, do not touch
upon that subject now. It is painful to me. I will visit
you again, if you so desire, before you leave here; then I
will tell you all,”
“ry
ing ti
you 7
she
any)
Voil
con
hay
an
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imed,
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Can
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she
eet
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 97
_ ‘Yes, Zella, I desire that you do come again. 1 am will-
ig to remain your prisoner here until you tell me to go, if
You will be my jailer.”
A confused smile lit up the maiden’s fair, lovely face.
“You are extravagant of compliments, Mr. Sheridan,”
She replied, “but I do not want you to consider yourself
‘nybody’s prisoner. I was satisfied that you would suffer
Voilence if not death, and as my soul revolts against the
Commission of crime, I resolved to save you. You may
have to remain here a month, no telling. This grotto can
be reached by two ways only—one the path you came,
‘nd the other by climbing up a succession of dangerous
ledges. Your enemies will hunt you down if possible, but
Whenever they give up the search and all danger is past, you
Will be so informed and guided away to safety. I will see
that you want for nothing. Slyly is out hunting and ram-
bling among the mountain hills most of his time, and so I
Can send him here without his absence being suspected. Do
Not hesitate to entrust any word for me to him.”
“T will not, Zella; but how am I ever to repay you for
this kindness? I am nothing but a penniless miner with
Only the clothes on my back. The Indians robbed me of all
Possessed.”
“Never mind, Mr. Sheridan,” Zella smiled, rising to her
feet, and drawing her shawl around her shoulders, ‘I am
Rot doing this for money. So let that not trouble you.”
“Are you going so soon?” Sheridan demanded.
““T must go. My absence may arouse suspicions. Good-
Night, Mr. Sheridan.”
Before he could speak again she was gone, and Asa
Sheridan was alone. The young man now threw himself
Upon the couch arranged for him, and gave way to a train
°f reflections. He reviewed the night’s experience. It was
full of horrors, perils and sufferings, but, amid all, the sweet,
®Ngelic face of Zella shone out like the beacon star of hope.
is thoughts finally reverted to his companions, Basil Wal-
Taymond and Nathan Wolfe. But, as to where they now
Were, and what had been their fate, he could form no con-
_©eption. He had heard sentence passed upon each, it is
"ue, and had heard Slyly say the old man had escaped, but
98 RED ROB,
this was all. His mind, and heart, too, had been so con-
fused when Zella was there, that he never once thought of
inquiring after them. And now that he was alone, a spirit
of restlessness took possession of him that lasted through
the remainder of that terrible night.
CHAPTER XX.
LOVE IN A MOUNTAIN GROTTO.
THE coming of day dispelledemuch of the gloom and bit-
ter recollections of the night from the mind of Asa Sheri-
dan; and feeling like a new mau he arose from his couch
and surveyed the scene spread out before him.
The sun was shining into the grotto, diffusing new life and
vigor through his overworked body and mind. Birds were
singing outside. The flash of a little cascade near the
mouth of the grotto could be seen pouring down in ribbons
of foam. Away across the valley, over the top of a somber
pinon forest, he could see the dark mountains piled up
against the eastern sky like a mighty cloudbank.
To the young exile everything seemed so bright, so plea-
sant, so joyous, that his mind reverted to the night’s adven-
tures as to a‘horrible nightmare. But his wound, his feeble
strength and the many-evidences of his fair rescuer’s kind-
ness around him, all were ample proof of what he had
passed through. And yet he looked back to certain inci-
dents in the night’s adventures with pleasure—such as he
had never before enjoyed. It was those incidents in which
he was brought face to face with the fair Zella, the good
angel whose transcendent beauty and gentle soul had found
their way to his heart—into that sacred chamber of love.
During the day, Slyly put in an appearance with a supply
of provisions, and a basket of luscious early peaches, that
still grew in the neglected orchards around those ancient ruins
and in many of the fertile valleys of New Mexico.
“And here’s sumthin’ else, Massa Shear-a-ding, dat de
) con-
rht of
spirit
‘ough
bit-
Ti
ch
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 99
Young missus send you,” said the precocious young African,
drawing a time-worn book from the bosom of his calico
shirt. «She said it war the bestest she had to kill time
Wid, and I guess it is, for I knocked a couple ob hours
‘oOming up de mountain wid it, lookin’ at de picters. Dar’s
§0bs of dem, massa, in de book. Jings!” and the boy gave
his knee a sudden slap that started Sheridan, ‘‘ but wouldn’t
Tike to be Miss Zella’s prisoner, and git lots ob good fix-
Mgs to eat, and have nothing to do but look at picters?
ings!”
a “My brave little fellow,” said Asa, taking the book,
you don’t think what you’re saying. I may be killed at
‘hy moment. My enemjes might follow you here and find
Me, and then I reckon you’d not want to be in my place.”
“Te! he! hi! hi!” laughed the boy, shoving his bands
Into his breeches pockets and leaning back to give full flow
‘o his exuberance of spirits, while his whole face seemed
Sddenly transformed into a double row of white pearls;
“dat’s a good un’ on Slyly, the Weasel, as dey call 1i@
hy, Massa Shear-a-ding, dar ar’n’t a man, Injun or wolf,
at can foller de Weasel. I can climb a tree quicker’n a
Wild-cat, and I can run like sixty and jump—oh, golly! you
dis’ ort to see me jump, massa. And den it’d make you
Tun clean over to hear me sing, ‘Dar was an ole nigger and
his name was Uncle Ned,’ or else dat odder song ’bout de
“Swanee Riber.’”
“Who taught you those songs, Slyly?”
“De young missus. Ain’t she a bully gal?”
Sheridan smiled and replied:
. Some day I may have you render those songs in your
happiest vein, Slyly.”
As he spoke he opened the book and glancing at the title-
Page read aloud:
“The Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe.”
“Golly, don’t know dat song, massa,” laughed Slyly, the
€asel,
Sheridan smiled, but did not correct the youth. He turn-
ed through the book rapidly, glancing abstractedly at each
lustration.
“Tell your mistress,” he at length said, ‘that I ama
e
100 RED. ROB,
thousand times obliged to her for these kindnesses she h®
bestowed upon me.”
“* Guess I will tell her, massa; but she told me to ax yo!
how your wound was.”
“Getting along as well as could be expected.”
‘‘ Crackey! dat’s fine, ain’t it?” exclaimed the Weasé:
irisking about as though he was delighted with the news
‘‘when I tells de young missus dat, 1’ll bet it'll set de blush
-a-skippin’ over her face.”
Slyly remained but a few minutes longer, and when é
-~went away Asa sat down and ate of the delicious fruit set!
him by Zella. When he had thus satisfied himself, he agai?
‘took up the book and began turning through it, lookidg} ©
-carelessly at each illustration. While thus engaged, he cam
suddenly across a sheet of note-paper, upon which had bee?
written a letter bearing no date, but which had evidently
been written the day before. The paper had never bee!
folded, and a glance at the single name ‘‘ Aaron,” to-whod
i was addressed, and the name of the writer, satisfied As#
that it was only awaiting an opportunity to be dispatched t
its destination.
Sheridan could not resist the temptation to read it. It rat‘
“My Dear AARON:
‘*T have long delayed writing to inquire after your worldly
shappiness. For these many years it has afforded me infinite
pleasure:and satisfaction to know you are living in constant
sorrow over a lost child. You know I told you, Aaron, that
I would have revenge when you won Estelle’s Jove from me}
and then deprived me of all my lands by taking advantage
of a slight flaw in the title. You should have known bette!
than to have crossed my path—aroused my Spanish blood.
But I presume you know it now. I beg you will take goo
care of the child I left you, for I always hated the brat. But
then she will be a thorn in your side to keep you constantly
reminded of your lost child and my vengeance. Your daugh
ter I still have. She is now grown to womanhood, and has
large, soft, blue eyes, silken, brown hair and a sweet, angelic
face.- She is the very image of ner mother. I see Esiellé
Le Grand every day in her face and form. She is well edu-
cated—several years in a convent made her all that is lovely-
And, my dear Aaron, I am going to break the facts to het
soon, and then—well, 7 can guess the rest Jf J couldn't
have the mother to.wed, I will have the daughter /
“ Yours, revengefully, LEOPOLD HaMALLADO.”
she has
ax yoll
V easel,
news;
lushes
en he
t sent
agaib
king
came
bee
ntly
reen
100
'
Asa
| to
in:
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 101
“The demon! the gloating fiend!” burst from the lips of
the young miner, when he had concluded the revengeful
€pistle. ‘ The description of the girl is that of Zella, Can
It be possible that she is the stolen child—the beautiful
Woman soon to be made the wife of one she has known only
88a father? God forbid! It cannot be possible. There
Must be some other girl at the ruins doomed to the fate
threatened in this letter. Zella was certainly ignorant of
the cruel missive being in the book. I will keep it till she
Comes. I will show it to her, and find out the truth—the
Secrets connected with her life, and the ruins of Quivira.
But there is not a doubt in my mind but those ‘ Phantom
Aztecs’ are robbers—that very party of emigrants that
Passed through Santa Fe two or three years ago, and whom
the people called Silent Tongues. Oh, the wickedness of
this world!”
Slyly came daily to the mountain grotto, with food and
€licacies—such as the country afforded—sent by. Zella.
Sheridan whiled away the time the best he could, though
the hours seemed to drag by on leaden feet. His wound
Caled rapidly, and he grew as strong as ever. He longed
toplunge out once more into the free air; but an invisible
Power held him a prisoner in the grotto. It was love.
Nearly a week went by ere Zella came to the grotto—it
Seemed a year to Asa. It was in broad daylight when she
Came, and her presence was hailed with infinite joy by her
Captive.
“Tt seems an age, Zella,” he said, with a frank earnest-
Ness in his tone, ‘‘ since I last saw you. I have read Robin-
Son Crusoe through twice, and to kill time have begun read-
hg it backward with the book upside down”
“Then you must know the story by heart,” the maiden
Said, with a pleasant smile. ‘I must admit that litera-
ture at the ruins is scarce—in fact, limited to that single
Volume.”
“Well, Zella, I hegan to think you were never coming
back.»
“And I began top think so, too,” the maiden replied.
Ver since your escape the men have been on the constant
“
0k-out for you, but to-day they went away toward the
RED ROB,
south, and I took advantage of their absence to venturé
out.” .
‘Can you tell me anything of my dear old friend, Basil
Walraymond, and of Nathan Wolfe, Zella?”
“The old man was sentenced to the ‘ tiger-pit,’ you remem
ber?” replied Zella. ‘‘ Well, he was put into a pen, as I
cal! it, and a wild panther, which the men had caught in
trap, turned in upon him—”
‘“My God, Zella! what sort of inhuman monsters aré
your friends?— But, pardon me—go on, Zella; was Wal:
raymond killed?”
‘“No; but he had a terrible struggle with the beast.
,His arm was crushed and broken by the panther’s jaws,
but he escaped and has not been recaptured yet. Your
other friend is still in custody. Slyly and I have been try-
ing to find where he is incarcerated, but so far have failed.”
Sheridan groaned in spirit, and relapsed into a painful
silence. But at length he said:
‘Poor old man! he was one of the noblest-hearted men I
ever met. I reverenced him, Zella.”
‘Yes, he was a noble-looking old man, and my heart
bled with pity for him when I saw him standing in the
‘ tiger-pit,’ waiting for the ferocious brute to be turned loos@ —
upon him. His tall form, his snowy beard, and stern,
thoughtful face, made him an object of veneration to me-
I knew, however, as he stood waiting, that he had no ide
of what was to come. I knew that he possessed no wea
pons, and this would render his destruction certain. My
wits were put to work—I wanted to save that man. 1
“®eeslipped around and threw a knife into the pit. It saved
his life. With the weapon he afterward killed the panther;
but oh, Mr. Sheridan! how my heart was wrung with pity
and sadness, when I saw the old man all covered with blood;
and saw his poor broken arm dangling helplessly at his
side, and his white, bearded face looking up at his tor
mentors, so sad, so pitiful, in the glare of the torches!
wanted to rush into that horrible pit and help him—sav@
him, but I knew I could do nothing. But God was with
the innocent and just. He came to the old man’s assistanc’
When another beast was turned loose into the pit, the old
Man
Cade
and
and
as j
enturé
Basil
mem-
, ast
in 4
are
Wal-
ast.
WS,
our
try:
d.”
ful
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 103
Man placed his shoulder against the stone wall that harri-
ded the arched gateway opening into the pit. It toppled
‘nd fell, aud with a shout he leaped through the opening
‘nd escaped.”
“Zella, is Leopold Hamallado your father?” asked Asa,
4s if suddenly startled from a dream.
Zella’s face became flushed, and in a little asperity of
Re, she said:
“You have been questioning Slyly?”
“T have not, Zella, upon my word and honor. There is
What led to the question. I found that paper in the book
You sent me, and supposing it was also intended for me, I
Tead it.”
She took the cruel letter and read it, then burst into a
flood of teats.
“Oh, heavens!” she moaned, with all the bitterness of
iI
rt
ae
se
€spair, ‘‘ you will despise me now!”
“And why should f, Zella?” he asked, in a tone intended
Pacify her sudden-sorrow; ‘if the contents of this letter
ae true, you can’t help it.”
“Tt is true—oh, heavens, it is too true!” she cried, wring-
‘Mg her hands in grief. ‘The man whom I have always
“Onsidered my father told me but a day or two ago that I
Was not his chitt—that he had stolen me from my father,
Who had married the woman he—Leopold Hamallado—
°Ved, and thereby incurred his hatred. But this is not all
© told me, but I will not repeat it. The letter tells it all,
and but for one thing, Mr. Sheridan, I would have fled last
Nght from the ruins to the Navajo agency.”
“And what was that one thing, Zella”
“The promise | made you—to come back and tell you of
Your friends and of ‘the ‘ Phantom Aztecs.’”
“Heaven bless you, girl! I would have died here waiting
° you,” Sheridan-said, crossing the grotto and seating him-
Self by her side. < ‘‘ Zella, I can not keep back the emotions
of my heart longer—not if you despise me for my boldness.
Ut to be plain, Zella, I love you!—I loved you from the
Moment I first saw your face at the window of the ‘ judg-
Ment hall.’ Zella, it would be all I could wish for on earth
know that my love is reciprocated.”
104 RED ROB,
** Asa,” she replied—it was the first time she had addres*
ed him thus—“ perhaps if you were away from here, and
were to calmly think over the little you know of me, yo!
would change your mind and love.”
‘Never, Zella,” he replied, half desponding, half hopeful
“‘T-am not a boy; I know my heart. Your situation, dea! >
girl, makes my love all the stronger.”
‘“‘But I have been reared as the daughter of a Spaniard;
and that Spaniard is the leader of as notorious a set of out
laws as ever existed.”
‘“‘T care not for that, either. As I told you before—a
this letter tells me—you could not help your situation.”
“But what do you know of me—of my character?” sbé
asked.
‘* Purity and innocence are written upon your’brow, upo?
your heart, and upon your soul. Zella, my own heart’s it
stinct tells me this.”
*“God knows,” she said, sadly, ‘‘I have lived a spotles
life despite the society I have lived in. For ten years I lived
with a Spanish lady at Albuquerque who was a mother to mé
in every respect. She seat me to a Catholic school, where
obtained a liberal education. As she had no children of bet
own, she wanted to adopt me, but my father objected, aD
finally dragged me off away up here, where; for some two 0%
three years, he has been the leader of a gang of robbers—
nearly all Spanish-Mexicans—who for cruelty to captive’
have no equal. They have traps set all through the mou”
tains for wild animals; and whenever a bear or panther #
caught, they secure it and shut it up until they can captut?
an innocent miner or hunter, when the two are thrown t&
gether in that horrible ‘ tiger-pit.’. But one thing can be said
to the credit of these bad men: they have never, by word %
act, offered me the least insult, or uttered an immodest w0
in my presence. On the contrary, all seemed to vie with
each other in their endeavors to make me happy and comfo™
table in those dismal old ruins. _ My supposed father told D®
that I was a little child when he stole me away from DY
father. He said my mother was dead, but he refused to tell
me where my father lived, and what his name is. But ©
come briefly to the point, I have been living these years wit?
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 105
“band of lawless men, and could you, Asa, conscientiously
Wed such a woman?”
dress “This detracts nothing from my love for you, Zella. The
», and | SWeetest flowers oft bloom amid the thorniest thistles. I {
», you} “ow whereof I speak. My love is no boyish infatuation.
or five days have I been studying this matter over, and my |
veful; } ly fears were that you would not return to me here. I |
deat longed to lay bare my heart’s love. I have now done so, aw
&id with this confession of love, Zella, I will repeat the ques- i]
iard, | “on: will you be my wife?—mine to love always—mine to 4
ou} Sherish and protect from this cold, cruel world?” i
The maiden’s eyes drooped shyly. A deep flush suffused
—as €r face; her lips quivered with the joyous emotions of her |
Young heart, and in a low, tremulous tone, said:
| she “Asa, my heart is yours.”
Asa’s heart gave a great bound of joy. He took her little ii
poo btown hand in his, and drawing her closer to his wildly:
in throbbing breast, imprinted upon her warm, ripe, red lips
the seal of their betrothal.
less A deep silence succeeded, and joy reigned supreme within
ved that mountain grotto, Never did two hearts beat more joy- i
me °Us in reciprocal love. For several moments they sat motion-
el 88 and silent as if listening to the responsive yet silent com-
per Munion going on between their hearts, The past, the pre- if
nd Sent and the future with all their sorrows and dangers, were |
of Tgotten in that moment of sweet, rapturous bliss,
ee But this holy silence was suddenly broken—broken by
@ he sound of footsteps ascending the rocky acclivity. The |
nD Next moment a sombrero appeared within sight above the i
is Stony ledge in front of the grotto, and beneath the hat ap- Hf
¥ Peared the dark, sinister eyes and wicked face of Leopold a
F, amallado, whom Asa at once recognized as the judge of {
d the «Phantom Aztecs.” |
q
1 t |
i
wh” ‘
eee
ee
RED ROB,
CHAPTER XXI.
IN THE VALLEY OF THE RIO DEL LOS PINOS.
In the valley of the Rio del los Pinos, not far from thé
San Juan, human voices could have been heard calling to
each other from the depth of the deep, dark pinon forest.
They were children’s voices, and with them were now and
then mingled the deeper tones of men, the sturdy ringing
blows of axes, the crash of falling timber and the barking of
dogs,
Drawing nearer these sounds, one would have discovered
that they issued from an encampment that was teeming with
busy life. White men and black; white women and black,
were there, all actively engaged in some duty or other; while
three or four children played “hide-and-seek” in the wood
back of the camp.
The men were at work in a-little glade on the foundation
of four or five log-cabins, which were, of themselves, evi-
dence of permanent settlement. And that these settlers
had traveled far to reach this secluded spot, was also evident
from their covered wagons and jaded animals. The most
conspicuous of all, however, and that mest likely to arrest
the attention of a stranger, was a small, brass howitzer
mounted upon a little eminence commanding the valley for
some distance around.
Near by the workmen stood a little old man, dressed in
the garb of a borderman. He was leaning upon his mfle and
watching the men with a bland, quizzical expression on his
thin, bearded face. At his side crouched a dog, and behind
him stood a drowsy-looking horse with a bridle and blanket
apon it.
The former was Dakota Dan; the animal at his side, his
dog, Humility; the one behind him, his mare, Patience.
And, as the reader has already inferred, this little band of
settlers was the emigrant party we left, in a preceding chap-
ter, at the little village of Conejos. Three weeks previous
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT, 107
they had left the last named point, and under the guidance
% Dakota Dan had reached the valley of the del los Pinos
the shrine of their pilgrimage—in safety,
They had left Conejos on the morning after the baile, when
d Rob, the Boy Road-agent, had made his identity known,
Sttiking terror into the hearts of the people, and putting a
SUdden termination to the night’s amusemént.
“The self-announcement of the handsome young outlaw had
§0ne like a dart to the breast of Octavia St. Kenelm, and she
Was carried back to camp ina dead swoon. This proved,
Yond a doubt, the great love she entertained for the youth,
Nd while her brother felt himself under manysobligations to
d Rob, for the assistance he had rendered them in the
hour of need and imminent peril, he also felt relieved, re-
Jiced, when they got away from the vicinity of Conejos,
€ was afraid the young outlaw would make a formal de-
Mand for Octavia’s hand, and in case of refusal, carry her
away by shéer force. The brother would much rather see
*r go down to her grave than wed to such a character.
his was the St. Kenelm pride of spirit. And when they
&t last found themselves in the valley of the del los Pinos all
€lt relieved so far as Red Rob was céncerned—felt satisfied
at the mountains separated them from the young free-
ter,
But, another fear kept them in a constant state of alarm,
X the morning they left Conejos, a man overtook them a
Short way out from the village, and gave St. Kenelm a folded
Paper, then wheeled his horse and galloped away.
The major opened it and saw, written upon it, in a miser-
“ble, scrawling hand, these words:
“Mistur Saint Kenelm, sur, you and that thare ole kuss,
Dakory Dan, needn’t think ’cos you’r gorin’ to git er way be-
re am able to git out, that you will eskape my vengeance.
N foller you to Californy or hell, but whafl’ll have satisfak-
Shun, And mind ye,Tll go backed by ther boys, too, and
Jum yh er not expektin’ the King of the Road.
ee a ‘*Missourr Mout.”
Tt was the threat of a bully and a coward, else they would
’ have entertained little fears. They knew that he would not
K satisfaction openly, but would creep upon them in the
108 RED ROB,
dark like'a coyote or lurking sivage. However, Dakota Dat
had been retained in the service of the party as a scout, and
his presence gave them some assurance that Missouri Moll
would not approach the camp unseen.
The weather had been exceedingly fine, and so far all bad
gone en well. Building had progressed rapidly. The logs
for six cabins were nearly all cut and hewn, and drawn id,
ready to be notched and lain up. Two buildings were await
ing their rafters, and in a few days more would be prepared
for occupation. Some of the men were chopping in the tia
ber, some hauling in, and others building. Thus the work
went steadily ow in the new settlement which had been named
“The Hidden Home.”
The days wore on, and one evening the little band were
assembled around a bright, glowing fire in the open air, some
engaged in conversation, some reading and some musing
over the past.
Octavia and Maggie were there, their pretty young faces
looking bright as ever; although the former could not entirely
conceal the disappointment her young heart had sustained if
its relations with that handsome young road-agent, Red Rob.
Major St. Kenelm and old Mr. Gilbrest were discussing the
prospects of the future in connection with their new homes.
“ There is not a doubt in my mind,” said the latter, “ but
that this valley, for sheep-raising and. fruit culture, is witl-
out a parallel. I believe we can make these two branches of
industry pay us well, even if we never strike a lick toward
mining.
“Tt appears that the ancients, who once dwelt in this
valley, made fruit culture a specialty; and from this source;
I am informed, the Navajo Indians still derive the largest
portion of their revenue. It it true, wool-growing and theif -
looms are not neglected. Besides attending to our flocks and
orchards, I would think that, when the busy season is ovels
we could prospect some for treasure in the mountains sul
rounding us.”
“‘Pervidin’,” put in Dakota Dan, philosophically, ‘the
nohle red-men—the Utes or ’Rapahocs—don’t come dow?
and eat yer fruit, kill yer flocks, and discomboborate ye
bar. Durn an Ingin; you can’: enny more tell when he’s
go}
Sel
bir
Va
Ta
8a
mM
jis
sk
an
ind
(oll
ad
gs
in,
it
ed
m-
rk
od
THE BOY ROAD AGENT. 109
80in’ to drap down among a f ‘lev than ye can swaller yer-
Seif. But then the Triangler Extarminator will keep a-bob-
bin’ and see what cxn be done for a while to’rds-keepin’ the
Valley purged of red skins, or of ghosts, anyhow,” and the
Tanger cast a lugdbrious look toward old Aunt Shady, who
St with her ears open, listening intently to every word.
“Oh, Lord sakes alive!” she exclaimed, when ghosts were
Mentioned, ‘‘if dar am ghosteses in dis here country, I’ll
ist pack up my duds and hoof it cl’ar back to ole Kaintucky
Shore whar I war bo’n.”
. Durn Kentucky!” retorted old Dan, for he delighted
m tormenting the old negress; “‘ it’s nothin’ but an abolition
Nigger-nest.”
“See here, man! how you talks!” the old woman ex-
“aimed, in injured pride; ‘‘you hain’t got no respect for
be Lincoln, de proclamation, nor de Lord, you hain’t.”
_ At this juncture, Humility, who was lying by his master’s
‘ide, thrgst his nose upward and sniffed the air as though
© had giiddenly detected the presence of something im the
dtmosphére. F
“What is it, pup?” questioned Dan, throwing his rifle
Across his knees.
’ The dog rose upon all fours, wagged his tail, pricked up
his ears, and appeared now to be listening intently.
“Sumthin’s wrong, boys, sure as water runs down hill—
' there! I’ve heard of it—smoke of Jerusalem!”
The old borderman was excited. He pointed directly
before him, and all eyes instantly followed in the direction
hdicated, and to their horror beheld the face of a man cov-
ed with a long, grizzled beard, staring at them with wild,
earthly eyes. But the most horrible of all was the dis-
“overy that the head and face of the man rested, not upon
© neck and shoulders of a human, but upon those of an
tmal—an animal with a human head—an apparition that
Alea each soul with a strange horror.
Tom side to side the face of the monster turned, as if
ting every object and studying each face around the fire.
€n it turned, and bounding across the range of light, dis-
*PPeared in the gloom beyond, while Humility, with a yelp,
away in swift pursuit.
110 RED ROB,
A deep silence fell upon the encampment.
The pinons sighed mournfully overhead, and the deep baJ
of the dog sounded faint in the distance.
CHAPTER XXII.
HOW MISSOURI MOLL KEPT HIS WORD.
““Tr’s a God’s fact, friends; P've heard of it afore,” said
Dakota Dan, although he hetrayed but little emotion.“ It
called Centaur, and said to be the descendant of a race of
people that used to inhabit this country, hundreds of yea®
ago. An ole miner told me it alers appeared round camp
fires o’ nights, attracked by the light. And he said, whe™
ever you see’d one of them critters, sumthin’ bad war sure 1
follow.” b
“You don’t believe in ghosts, do you, Dan?” asked St
Kenelm, desirous of testing the old ranger’s superstitious te?’
dencies.
‘“‘ Wal, no, major, though some things do look kindé
quare at times. One as can read books never believe sich
things. Take me on the trail, in the woods, or on the rivels
and I’ve a good eddycation, And then I used to knoW
every letter in the alfabet from A to izzard, and could read
a right smart sprinkle; but then one will furgit sich thing®
Howsumever, I can talk two langwidges aside my own.”
“Indeed!” said St. Kenelm, surprised by this announce
ment of his linguistic lore; ‘‘ what two?—French and Spa
ish?”
‘“‘No, major; more intelligent langwidge—hoss and dog
langwidge.”
A smile passed over every face at this reply, notwithstand
ing the serious impression left upon all by the apparition. —
Humility soon returned from the woods, and the uneask
ness he now betrayed by bounding away into the gloom,
then back to his master’s side, convinced the ranger that
something was wrong out in the woods. So he at ond?
eep bay
” said
‘“c It’s
ice of
years
amp
‘hen
re t0
St
teD
det
ich
er,
ow
ad
rs.
e-
a-
7s
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT, 111
Made known his intention of going out (o reconnoiter the sur
‘Ounding forest.
He left the camp, and in less than ten minutes returned
Tom the same direction, having made the entire circuit of
the place. His face and movements both betrayed some ex:
Atement.
“Put out the fire,” he said, endeavoring to appear calm,
“for as true as thar’s a heaven above us, Missouri Moll,
With a party of friends and a horde of Ingins, are near!
€ep cool ’bout it, or they may smell a ‘ mice.’ ”
An exclamation of surprise burst from every lip, and ter-
Tor blanched each face. The fearful news fell like a thun-
derboit upon the ears of the little band, and for a moment
all seemed stupefied by the shock it gave them.
But the calm, cool voice of the old ranger, admonishing
them of their danger, soon set all in motion.
Yo extinguish the fire, secure the women and children in
Places of sufety, and place every man in a defensive position,
Sccupied but a few brief moments.
Three covered wagons were arranged side by side near
the center of the camp, and the beds of the women placed
Mside of these. This was done as a measure of greater
Safety. If an enemy charged through camp, the defense.
less would not be so exposed to crushing hoofs or murderous
Weapons as if they were upon the ground.
~ Octavia St. Kelelm and Maggie Boswell occupied the
Wagon on the right, facing south, the Gilbrest women and
Children the middle one, and old Aunt Shady and another
Negro woman the third.
Two guards were posted, one north, the other east of the
Camp. The men stood with rifles in hand, waiting for the
Worst to come,
Dakota Dan and his faithful dog reconnoitered in the
Woods.
The horses and mules in the corral manifested some un-
€asiness. ‘fhe pinons swayed and rustled ominously in the
breeze. The coyotes gibbered incessantly away off among
the foothills.
The men conversed in low tones, the women in tremulous
Whispers.
4
112 RED ROB,
Octavia and Maggie did not disrobe when they retired t0
their ‘apartment ” in the wagon. Fear had banished al
sleep from their eyes, They went to work and fastened
the lower edge of the wagon cover securely down to the bos
all around, as though this frail barrier of canvas would s@
cure their retreat against intruders. Then, locked in each
other’s arms, they entered. into conversation, They talked
in low tones of their dangerous situation, of Red Rob, avd
in fact of everything suggested to their.young minds.
Octavia spoke in praiseworthy terms of the outlaw youth,
who had made captive her heart. In spite of all that he!
friends had said—in spite of all she had seen, she could nol
help loving Red Rob. Her own reason taught her that he
was unworthy of her love; still she could not rend asunder
the magic chain that bound her heart to him.
‘** Brother Albert rejoices that we are away from the vicinity
of Red Rob’s. retreat,” Octavia said to Muggie, ‘‘ and all oD
my account. But, Maggie, I cannot help loving him, outlaw
though he be.”
‘* Your infatuation, will wear off, by-and-by, Octavia,” re
plied the sedate, matter-of-fact Maggie.
‘“No, never, Maggie!’ responded Octavia, firmly. ‘ All
naturally suppose that I love Red Rob, but none knew it posi
tively but you and brother. I have made confidents of n0
others.” *
‘* Red Rob is unworthy of your thoughts, Octavia, to say
nothing of your love,” affirmed Maggie.
‘*We all felt thankful, from the bottom of our hearts,
that he saved the train from the Indians; and then you and
I, and all the rest, felt grateful to him for saving brother's
life, the night he visited the saloon in Conejos.”
“T admit that, Octavia,” said Maggie, ‘‘ but in neither ip
stance was his real character known.”
‘That matters not, dear Maggie. We accepted the gift,
and so must not rebuke the donor, or else we will be wicked
and selfish creatures. If an infidel saves your life, the act
would be no greater if it had been done by a Christian.”
“T admit this, Octavia; but we were deceived in his cha®
acter. We thought at first, all of us, that we were bestow-
ing our thanks and admiration upon a good, brave and noble
Tetired t0
‘ished all
fastened
the box
rould se
in each
y talked
ob, and
youth,
at her
id not
hat he
under
cinity
1] on
itlaw
’
Te-
All
osi-
no
ay
s,
id
9
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 118
boy, but instead of that, he turns out to be tlie notorious
Toad-agent, Red Rob. He had some designs, it is thought,
in saving the train—perhaps to destroy it himself.”
“Oh, Maggie, do not talk so of him. It hurts me, and—”
Octavia’s words were here brought to an abrupt conclusion
by a faint noise outside, followed by a slight vibratory jarr-
ing of the wagon.
Both listened with bated breath and wildly-palpitating hearts.
“What do you think it was?” asked Maggie, when they
found the movement was not repeated.
““T presume it was one of the men passing, and struck his
foot against the wagon-tongue,” replied Octavia.
“*T will look out and see what is gojng on, if the darkness
will admit,” said Maggie. }
Carefully she raised the lower edge of the tilt in front,
and gazed out.
The wagon was standing in the little clearing, yet the
shadows of the woods rose up like a grim black wall around
them, infolding all in a mantle of gloom. Maggie could see
hothing, but she thought she heard stealthy footsteps re-
treating rapidly from near the wagon. Before she could
make this fact known to her companion, both felt a kind of
athrumming jar like a heavy rope being drawn suddenly
taut. The next instant the wagon started forward with
such a violent lurch that the maidens were thrown from their
Seats. But quickly recovering their former positions, they
Were startled by the discovery that the wagon was in mo-
tion,
‘** What does it mean, Maggie?” gasped the terrified Oc-
tavia.
““The men must be moving the wagon by hand,” was the
response.
They tore aside the canvas in front and gazed out. Not
the sign of a man or horse was about the wagon. And yet
the vehicle was in rapid motion—the wheels rattling and
thundering over the uneven ground as thoud@fiawe by a
Span of fiery animals.
“Oh, heavens, what does it mean?” cried Octavia, in terror.
“ Look, Octavia!” exclaimed Maggie, pointing on ahead;
*““do you see that rope?”
RED ROB,
Octavia saw it the moment she spoke. Objects wefé
fi gradually unfolding themselves from the darkness as thé
eyes became more accustomed to gloom, and the maidens
could now sce the dim outlines of arope, one end of which
was attached to the wagon-tongue, the other end being
| lost in the impenetrable gloom of the woods, but a rod oF
in two away.
| An enemy had crept from the woods and attached the
rope to the wagon.
Octavia uttered a cry of alarm.
a The report of rifles at the further side of the camp told
| that their friends were engaged there with an enemy.
| The wagon rolled into the woods and came to a violent
| halt by striking against a tree. The maidens were thrown
prostrate by the collision. As they hurriedly rose to theif
feet again, a gruff, coarse voice shouted:
“Quick, men, seize them!” R
Then the canvas was stripped from the bows, and two
men.sprung up into the wagon.
The maidens uttered a scream—it told where they were.
The next moment they felt strong arms encircle their waists
-—felt themselves lifted from their feet and handed from the
wagon to other men on horseback, ready to receive them.
Then, despite their cries and entreaties, they were borne
swiftly away.
The conflict on the opposite side of the camp had been
very brief—in fact, the enemy had only made a feint to
draw the attention of the men from the foe operating on the
other side of the camp. ~ But as soon as the settlers saw
what was up—heard the noise of the wagon and the screams
of the maidens, they turned and hurried to the girls" assist-
ance. But they were too late. When they reached the
wagons, the enemy were gone with the maidens; but from
i] out the darkness, a deep, hoarse voice, furious with demoniac
i} passion ag@ hellish triumph, hurled back the words:
Hi} ‘“* Veng@atice is mine at last!”
Major St. Kenelm recognized the voice. It well-nigh
froze the blood in his veins,
It was the voice of the desperado, Missouri Moll!
Oct
act
ore
en
as
th
cts were
Ss as the
Maidens
F which
1 being
rod or
ed the
) told
olent
own
heir
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT, 115
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE NIGHT FLIGHT.
Daxora Dan was busily engaged north of the camp when
Octavia and Maggie were captured. A band of Arapahoes,
acting in concert with the outlaws, attacked the camp in
Order to draw attention from the south side, and thereby
€nable Missouri Moll to carry out his designs. But as soon
4s the outlaw’s shout of vengeance announced his success,
the Indians withdrew. Then the defenders hurried to the
Other side of the camp to find the maidens gone.
“Oh, heavens!” burst from Albert St. Kenelm’s lips, and
he fairly staggered under the terrible blow.
“Oh, Lord!’ groaned Dakota Dan. ‘I knowed some-
thin’ war goin’ wrong,” he continued, with a dubious shake
Of the head, ‘“‘when I heard them rovin’ wild cats of Ara-
Pahoes utter their war-yoop, and then not make a general
attack. J knowed it war one of their tarnal slippery tricks
to draw our attention aside, while other of their friends done
Some deviltry at another point.”
“You were right, Dan,” replied St. Kenelm, with a heavy
heart. ‘* The outlaws had tied a number of lariats together,
When one of their men crawled in and fastened one end
of it to the wagon-tongue, leaving the other end out in the
Woods where the main party would not be exposed. By
this means, the wagon was drawn suddenly into the impene-
trable shadows. The rope is here yet.”
“Too bad, too bad!” sighed the ranger, regretfully. ‘IT
did not think Missouri Moll could outwit the Triangle.
But Pll make it all up yet, friends—I will, true as water
runs down hill. Jist keep a stiddy nerve, a stiff lip and
quiet tongue. I’ve never found a case yit, but what we—
that’s’ me, Patience, my mare, and Humility, my dorg—
Could work out. We figure by the rule of three, and we
have solved some knotty problems. When man, hoof and
-howler are all once set a-goin’, you could jist as well stop
a i
116 RED ROB,
an avalanche. With Humility to take the lead with bis
olfactory snoot, me next to direct movements, and drap #
occasional bullet: here and there, and old Patience to brivé
up the rear and slap an occasional red-skin into purgatory—
with all these things set to work like machinery, then ook
out for a pestilence. Why, bless your soul, friends, whe
I war up in Dakota, the Triangle got to be sich a dead cel’
tainty that jist to shout ‘Dakota Dan” at a red-skin he’
drap down instanter, and arrange his hair for the skulP
knife. As for Missouri Moll and his men—why, they won
be a huckleberry to us for to circumvent if they don’t f
in with the Ingins. If two men will go with me, we'll
take the trail at once, and won’t come back without the
gals.”
Major St. Kenelm and Richard Boswell, brothers of thé
captured maidens, at once announeed their readiness to ac
company him; and leaving the camp in charge of Mr. Gil-
brest, his boys and the negroes, the three set out in pursuit
of Missouri Moll.
They all journeyed on foot, although the ranger took his
mare along to be used in case of emergency.
They had no difficulty in finding the trail of the outlaws;
nor in following it. Humility took the lead with his nos¢
to the ground, and all the men had to do was to follow the
dog. To St. Kenelm and Boswell, this would have been #
difficult task, owing to the darkness, which at times entirely
concealed the animal from view; but to old Dan it was n0
trouble whatever. The dog and master had become so ac-
customed to each other’s part in the great drama of bordert
life they were continually enacting, that they seemed con-
trolled by the same intuitive volition.
Thus for miles they journeyed on, when a low, significant
whine of the dog told that the enemy was near.
The trio came to a halt—they listened. They heard 4
slight, confused crashing through the undergrowth and tram-
ple of hoofed feet some distance in advance.
‘“* Plant yerselves right here, friends,” said the old border-
man, ‘and then I'll know ‘whar to find ye when I come
back. Don’t move if the earth sinks ’neath yer feet, for,
if we git sep’rated, we might git into trouble. [ll run
d with bis
‘nd drap all
Ce to bring
urgatory—
then Icok
nds, whell
dead cer
skin he'd
e skulp
€y won't
lon’t fall
le, we'll
it them
of the
to ac-
r. Gil-
ursuit
k his
AWS,
10Se
the
n &
ely
no
Cc:
or
fa
‘
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT, 117
S1t and reconnoiter the sitewation—be back in a minute or
More.”
And, so saying, the ranger stole softly away. St. Kenelm
énd Boswell listened. They could now hear the murmur of
Many voices, asx if engaged in consultation; and presently
they heard the tread of horses’ feet going away, and all
Sounds become hushed.
The enemy had resumed his journey.
Dakota Dan soon made his reappearance.
“‘ Well, what discovery, Dan?” asked St. Kenelm, with
€ager impatience.
‘“« The ’tarnal devils have divided the work—that is, the
Arapahoes and outlaws met out thar, and the ’Rappas claim-
ed one of the gals for their share of the spoils.”
“And did they get one of them?” asked Roswell.
“They did, by Jerusalem! The outlaws didn’t want to
give her up, but they had to or fight. But I don’t know
Which one the ‘Rappas got. It war too dark to tell—the
"Raps went one way and the whites the t’other.”
This news added new weight to the brothers’ grief, but
to the major the blow fell with double force. Both his
Sister and sweetheart were in peril, but, while they were
Captives together, he knew the presence of one would be
Some comfort to the other. But now they were separated,
and he instinctively felt that the one in the power of the In-
dians was in the most imminent peril, and between his love
for his sister and that of his sweetheart, it was a hard mat-
ter for him to decide which party to follow first—the one
Which had Octavia, or the one which had Maggie in custody.
Fortunately, however, he had no decision to make, for
Dakota Dan knew not which of the maidens had been given
up to the Indians. But which-ever was in the power of the
Outlaws, Dakota Dan considered in the most peril. For,
notwithstanding his hatred for the Indians, he considered
them more honorable and humane toward female captives
than their white associates. He argued this to his two com-
panions, and succeeded in convincing them that an Indian
Was a savage by nature, but with many redeeming traits of
character, while a renegade was a creature whose moral de-
pravity was utter and complete.
118 RED ROB,
The old ranger’s views were accepted as a decision to thé
question as to which party they should follow. Moreover,
Missouri Moll was ucting under a spirit of revenge, and there
was no telling what his. devilish heart would lead him into
to gratify that spirit. :
The trail of the outlaws continued due southward, crossed
the San Juan river, and headed for the mountains wherei?
their safety would be assured.
Missouri Moll led the way with an’ ease and rapidity that
were evidence of a familiar knowledge of the country and
its tortuous windings. He was followed by ten men, all
well mounted and armed, and all of the most desperate cliar-
acier.
The outlaw had kept Maggie Boswell a captive in his
possession, under the impression that she was St. Kenelm’s
sister. He carried her in front of him, the poor girl lying
an almost lifeless burden in his strong arms.
As they rode along, the ruffians conversed together over
their victory, all appearing wonderfully elated at their ‘‘ mas-
ter’s ” success.
‘*Durn ther souls of them!” the desperado growled, as
they moved along, “‘Tll Tarn ’em how to tamper with me,
Missouri Moll, King of the Road. This ’ere gal ‘ll not be-
gin to pay for that ’tarnal gap that Saint Kenelm cut across
my face, forever ruinin’ my beauty. Nec, boys; we'll cut
for the hills und ambush. The friends of this gal ’ll be apt
to foller us, of course, when we’!l shoot every devil of ’em.
But, lookey here, boys, I want about five of you to drap
behind now, and act asa rear guard. ‘If persuers should
come onto us, ail to onc’t, it would hussel me like thunder
to git out of the way with this gal. She’s a dead lump, al-
most. ‘Thar’s no danger, yit it’s best to keep on the safe
side. The emegrants cau’t track us in the night, so we'll
be able tu git hid afore morning. But then I want a rear
guard. It’ll be more military like. They'll think l’m a
reg’lar West P'int gineral afore they git through with me.”
Five men at once signified their willingness to comply
with their master’s orders, and at once took their positions
in the rear of the cavalcade.
After crossing the river, the outlaws entered the dry,
gravel
define!
with :
Sive «
dog ¢
be c
hims
and
Dak
evel
I
on
gra
for
ya
M
le
| to the
reover,
| there
into,
‘ossed
erein
that
and
, all
ar
his
n’s
ng
er
S-
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. « 119
Stavelly bed of a stream, and continued to follow its well-
defined course toward the mountains. They did not move
With all the speed nor silence possible, for in their exces-
Sive elations of triumph, they had forgotten all about the
dog of Dakota Dan, by means of which swift pursuit could
be conducted. And while the outlaw was congratulating
himself on the success that-had attended his night’s work,
and the distance he was putting between himself and enemies,
Dakota Dan and his two companions were gaining upon them
every minute.
Ignorant of this fact, however, Missouri Moll rode leisurely
On up the creek. As he advanced, the banks on either side
gradually rose higher and higher, and ere long the outlaws
found thenselves traversing the dark, distal depths of a
Yawning can n several hundred feet deep. But Missouri
Moil k.ew the tortuous windings of the rift, and to where it
led, and so pushed on in triumph.
Soon he and his four companions debouched from the dis-
Mal gorge into an open-court or park, that was walld in on all
Sides by the mountain, that rose a thousand feet above them.
The m:on was now in the zenith, throwing its mellow light
into the little valley. For a hundred feet or more the walls
Tose almost perpendicular, then began to slope gradu:lly
backward in irregular tiers, one above the other, like the ter-
Taced seats of an amphitheater. The shadows concealed
Many of the irregularities of the awful hights, giving the
Place that symmetry of form that lingers about the ruined
handiwork of mat.
Here, wishin this valley, Missouri Moll believed he was
Sife; but no sooner had he expressed an assurance to that
effect than the report of firearms came rolling up the canon,
With the sullen roar of artillery, awaking a thousand moun-
tain echoes—gathering volume as it advanced.
“The guard has been attacked!” exclaimed Missouri Moll,
With sudden terror. ‘‘ That old Dakota Dan and them emi-
grants have overtaken them in the pass!”
They listened with bated breath.
The firing ceased all at once—in fact there was but one
discharge. Then, when the rebounding echoes of the repurts
had died away, a deadly hush succeeded,
Se
SS EE
i]
120 RED ROB,
The moon shining down into the little valley fell upon the
stolid faces of five motionless horsemen.
Suddenly the clatter of hoofs is heard coming swiftly up
the stony pass.
“Brace for a fight, boys!” exclaimed Missouri Moll; ‘it
may be enemies what’s got in alead of the rear guard.”
Five hands sought a revolver each—five locks clicked as
one, and the men were ready for fight.
Then forth from the shadows of the pass came three rider-
less horses, mad with affright. These were followed by two
others with riders—all that remained of the five detailed: to
guard the rear approach.
‘“They’re comin’!” cried one of the fugitives, ‘close be-
hind! They’ve killed three of the boys!”
‘‘Dismount, men!” roared Missouri Moll, ‘‘ and defend the
approach to the valley with your lives!”
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE WILD RIDER.
' Daxota Dan and his companions had come up with the
rear guard of the outlaws when about half-way through tie
pass; and with one well-irected broadside tumbled three of
the villains from their horses --the other two seeking safety
in flight. Before firing upon them, however, the old ranger
had assured himself of the fact that no captive was in their
possession,
This attack would place the others on the defensive, and,
being fully acquainted with the pass himself, Dan knew it
would require some precaution to avert an ambuscade, He
trusted, however, to the superior instinct of Humility, and,
passing over the three dead outlaws, they picked their way
onward through the eternal gloom of the pass.
As they approached the valley without finding the enemy,
the old ranger began, to speculate over the possible movements
of the outlaws. He soon arrived at a decision, which proved
&
2 the
yup.
Ae
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 121
to be the correct one as to the position and intention of ihe
foe, and at once ordered a halt, saying:
“We can’t go another step till daylight, boys; tho’ this
may seem a cruel fact to you. The devils are in the valley
concealed, coverin’ the mouth of this pass with their rifles.
We've got to wait for daylight, then mebby we can execute
a flank movement onto them. If we could only see now,
Humility here, and Patience thar, would do their part,
and do it well; but then we can’t, and so we'll have to
wait.”
This decision was a painful one to Boswell and St. Kenelm,
but they accepted it without a murmur; though the long
hours of night were passed in dire impatience.
The first evidence they received of the approach of day
was the sight of a slender thread of light hundteds of feet
above their heads.
_ Dakota Dan was in no hurry to be on the move. He
wai'ed until broad daylight had unfolded every object in the
little valley from the shadows of night. As the sun gilded
the distant mountain hights, he crept forward, followed by
his two companions. As they neared the mouth of the pass
the light struggling in showed that all was clear before them.
At length they debouched into the little valley, and to their
surprise found it deserted by all except the outlaws’ horses.
This, however, convinced them that the villains were not far
away—had secreted themselves in some niche or cave in the
carped and fluted walls that hemmed in the little vale.
White the three s!ood carefully searching the valley before
them for their enemies, a veice that seemed to come from
the clouds shouted forth:
“Raise yer eyes, Dakota Dan, and you'll see what yer
lookin’ for!”
The trio lifted their eyes, and. upon a sharp projecting
ledge or table-rock, two hundred feet above them, beheld
Missouri Moll standing, with Maggie Boswell at his side.
A cry of surprise and indignation burst from the lips of
the men, and Humility growled. fiercely:
Plain and distinct the outlaw and his frail captive stood
out against the rosy morn, he a demon, she an angel.
The shriek of an eagle perched on a cliff high up in the
by) RED ROB,
the v
him |
“
clouds, and the soft chirp of a bluebird in the valley were
fit accompaniments to the two spirits on the rock.
Three rifles were raised simultaneously to shoot the des
perad» down, but he in‘erposed the body of the trembling =
Maggie between him and danger, and then shouted: ,
“Shoot if you’d complete what I’ve begun.” + Sku
“Don’t fire, for God’s sake!” moaned St. Kenelm, lowel }|_ drix
ing his own rifle. pe
Dan and Boswell obeyed the lover’s request.
Then the old ranger scanned the rock for some placé He
where he might be able to ascend the rock, but the wall was x
perpendicular. He could do nothing, and he dare not ven-
ture further into the valley for fear his body would become
the focus for half a dozen concealed rifles.
“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the demon on the cliff. ‘‘I dare a
you to shoot!”
“Tv ll be too easy a death for you, monster,” replied Dan, ss
his bearded face assuming a look of intense pain. ‘‘I want
that pup to chaw yer throat till yer life leaks out little by
jerks.”
“You can talk now,” responded the desperado, ‘but I
defy you and the men you have back in that pass.”
“That’s good,” said Dan; in a low tone. ‘He thinks
thar’s more of us back in the canon, but let him think so,
and directly I'll swing old Mortality into posish and send @
bullet plumb center through his brain afore he’s time to creep
behind the gal.” }
‘*Be careful, Dan, for her sake,’ continued St. Kenelm,
whose heart could no longer couceal its emotions of love for
her so near, and yet so far away beyond their assistance.
Maggie was standing on the edge of the dizzy hight, her
head bowed, her arms hanging at length and her hands clasped
together. Her pale face looked serene in its sadness, and to
St. Kenelm, never so swect and angelic as now.
““Thar’s no way to flank the ’tarnal varmint,” said Dan,
after a moment’s reflection, ‘‘ else I’d send Humility, my dorg
thar, up to throttle the big, cowardly sneak.” |
‘* Where do you suppose his men are?” asked Boswell. |
“Three of them’s back in the pass,” replied Dan, face- |
tiously, ‘(and Tl venture to assert the others are guardin’
vere
des-
jing
er
ce
7
e
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 128
the way by which he got up thar, or else they are hid behind
tim under them rocks.”
“Why don’t you shoot?” suddenly yelled out the des-
Perado, from above; ‘‘1’m ready.”
“You be, be you? You're durned brave now, ar’n’t ye?
Skulk behind a gal, can’t ye? You'll make another boy
drink likker, won’t ye?” returned Dan, with all the sarcasm
he could throw into the words.
‘Ho, ho!” retorted the outlaw, ‘‘ vengeance is sweet.
Here I can defy you all, and the moment a man 0° you fires
@ shot, I will give you what you seek—lI will hurl this girl
down to you, as true as there is a God!”
The brother and lover groaned in spirit.
‘You're a brave critter, ar’n’t you? What did that gal
do to you?” responded Dan.
“Do you see that?” asked the desperado, laying his
forefiuger on a livid scar that extended across his cheek.
“Yes; pity the knife that made it didn’t find your heart,”
the old ranger shouted back.
‘ Rither your knife, or that of the man who stands at your
‘Side, made that scar in the Conejos saloon,” continued Mis-
souri Moll. ‘‘I swore then I’d have revenge, even if you
Were backed by a legion of devils, and I will too. ‘The two
girls’ captivity is but a foretaste of what’stofoller. Besides,
you’ve not the road-agents to aid and abet you as they did at
Conejos. Your friend, Red Rob, will not be so handy next
time. He'll not dance with yer gals soon again, for they are
My gals now.” wt
“T can’t see what all that’s got todo with that scar on yer
face, and that bigger one on yer soul. Away up yander,
Missouri Moll,” said the ranger, lifting his hand warningly
toward heaven, ‘‘ is a God in whose eyes you are a smaller
Speck of insignificance than in mine. He’ll settle accounts
with you, man, and send you below where Satan is already
Punchin’ up the fire in anticipation of your comin’. The
horn of Gabriele will soon proclaim the judgmen jays
Your ears.”
The old ranger’s words seemed strangely prophetic, for
Searcely had they died upon the clear, vibrant air, ere the
shri!! clangor of a hern came thrilling down from amid
“upon ‘which the outlaw and maiden stand—and then, n0
124 RED ROB,
the gray mist of morning clouds, gathering volume as if
advanced—bounding and rebounding from mountain side 1
side, and rushing away through the shadowy gorges, awakiDg
a thousand slumbering echoes.
Our friends started with amazement; the outlaw’s face wa
aghast with terror. All lifted their eyes upward.
A cry burst from every lip, now pale and trembling.
Down from amid the clouds, along the mountain side wheré
it seemed impossible for the foot of man to have picked its
way with safety, came a horseman at a wild, breakneck speed.
His head was bare, his hair flying in the wind. Neithet
saddle nor bridle hampered the chamois like movement of
the gallant steed, from whose nostrils the hot breath poured
in almost fiery currents, and whose smoking flanks were cove!”
ed with frosty foam. The ring of the iron-shod hoofs could
be distinctly heard upon the stony mountain side, and with
every footstroke fire seemed to burst in jets from the rocks.
“My God!” exclaimed St. Kenelm, ‘‘ who is it?—what
madman thus riding into eternity?”
No one answered, for no one knew.
Still on comes the mad, reckless rider, straight down the
dangerous mountain side. He will soon reach the table rock
power on eartlrcan save him from plunging over the cliff into
the valley, hundreds of feet below.. The movements of the
fabled steed Pegasus could not have been more swift, his
footsteps more unerring among the clouds, than that of the
animal now flying down the mountain side; nor his rider Jes3
daring than the gallant young Bellerophon as he dashed oD
to the conquest of the dread Chimera.
There was akind of a horrible fascination in the awful
scene, and the three men in the valley, and the outlaw on the
cliff forgot all else and watched the wild horseman galloping
down into the awful abyss. -
As he drew nearer and nearer the ledge, the flushed face
ider began to assume a look of familiarity.
ed Rob!” exclaimed St. Kenelm.
‘* Red Rob!” repeated Boswell. ~
‘*Red Rob, the Boy Road-Agent!” added Dakota Dan,
with a nervous start. d
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 125
le as it
Side to
waking
CHAPTER XXV.
ice was RED ROB IN BONDS.
WHEN they recognized the face of Red Rob rushing on *
where Into a fearful death, Dakota Dan and his two companions
d its turned aside to shut out the horrible sight so soon to come.
peed. eThen their hearts almost ceased to beat—their very souls
ither Sickened with horror in anticipation of hearing that awful
we crushing sound.
ara Aside from the ring of the horse’s hoofs a pistol-shot rung
Out from the cliff above; an awful cry of human agony fol-
suld lowed.
Our friends lifted their eyes upward, and a cry of aston-
vith :
i ishment burst from their lips.
hat They saw Missouri Moll stagger backward and fall. They
Saw Red Rob check the speed of his animal and come to a
Sudden halt at Maggie’s side on the very brink of destruc-
he tion. They saw the young outlaw lift the terrified girl to a
Seat before him, and then go bounding away up the moun-
horrible suspense.
Dakota Dan raised his rifle to fire, but St. Kenelm pre
vented his deadly purpose.
“Do not fire on him, Dan,” the young man said; ‘ rub
ber though he be, he is too brave—too noble to die—but
look yonder! There are Missouri Moll’s friends!”
True enough, the sudden turn of affairs had brought the
Outlaw’s friends from their concealment, and with all their
speed scaled the mountain side in pursuit of the reckless boy
outlaw.
The form of Missouri Moll could be seen hanging half-over
the edge of the cliff, his life-blood trickling from a wound in
the heart.
7 tain side, his Pegasean steed bounding from terrace to terrace
a With all the swiftness and accuracy of footstep of the moun-
j tain goat
‘ The three men witnessed the whole with a sort of a vague,
126 RED ROB,
Prophetic indeed had been Dakota Dan’s words. In less
than a minute from the time of their utterance, the spirit of ce
the desperado had gone to the judgment. doze
‘“Now what, Dan?” asked St. Kenelm. tlem
‘* Ay! what indeed?” replied the ranger, in a tone of deep thar
perplexity, as he watched Red Rob disappear from view amid y
clouds that still hung like a pall around the crest of the pas
* mountains. ‘I never war so helpless in all my life. Neither :
man, hoof nor howler can put @ a lick, kick or tooth. to
But the question now arises: is the gal out of the fryin’-
pan into the fire? What’ll that wild young dare-devil dos re:
with her?” Re
“‘ Yes, these are the questions, indeed,” said young Bos-
well. ‘I felt in hopes we were out of the reach of that W
outlaw, albeit we are under many obligations to him.”
‘And Vl bet we'll be under another one,” said Dan. :. t
‘‘He’s already been a pestilence to that Missouri Moll,
and—” z (
“You think, then, he will take sister Maggie to her
friends, do you?” interrupted Boswell.
‘** He’s capable of other good acts, I dare say. That boy
is an outlaw and robber for nothing but the wild fun and
adventure in it, I dare say. We hear of his doin’ more
good acts than bad ones, and that’s sumthin’ you can’t say
of two outen every three of mankind, be they saints or sin-
ners; and yit the latter go onpunished, but are simply called
‘doubtful,’ ‘scaly,’ or—to put it a little stronger—‘ rascals.’
But Red Rob! Oh, Lord! he’s a monster—a boy outlaw!
a murderer, and all sich, beca’se he gallops down once and
awhile and relieves some ole ‘don’ of his ill-gotten gains
and fast hosses, and raises a general rompus all over the
ranchoes—scares the peons to death, and then gallops back
to the mountains to hear the thunder roar, and laff in his {
sleeve. I don’t approve of sich things, boys; but then that
Red Robert is a prince of a robber, and may turn out to
sumthin’ good afore he dies. Thar’s no tellin’.”
‘‘T hope, Dan, that your words will prove true in this
case,” declared St. Kenelm, as his mind reverted to Octavia’s
love for the young outlaw. ‘‘ But, boys, time is precious.
Neither of the girls is rescued.”
In less
irit of
deep
amid
f the
ither
oth.
rin’.
do«
Os-
lat
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 127
“True,” responded Dan, as if suddenly started from a
doze; ‘‘let us at once hasten back to the Hidden Home set-
tlement. If that young scamp takes Maggie home, she’ll be
thar afore us.”
Without further delay they turned their faces down the
Pass and moved with dispatch.
They soon passed the three dead outlaws and emerged in-
to the open valley.
Crossing the San Juan, they hurried rapidly forward and
Teached home just as a band of masked horsemen, with Red
Rob at their head, came in sight of the camp. ;
On a pony at the young outlaw’s side rode Maggie Bos-
well.
Dakota Dan’s words had again proven prophetic; Red
Rob had restored the maiden to her friends unharmed.
On the outskirts of the settlement the main body halted.
Only Red Rob rode into camp with Maggie.
on-
or
ne
d
le
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 187
“‘T have proven myself an enemy that seeks a terrible re-
Yenge, girl. I loved your mother and warned your father
that if he won her away from me he would rue it. And
8Ohe has. He shall know yet that I have his child, and
that I propose to make her my wife. You are the very
Picture of your mother. She was an educated woman, and
that you might be as near like her in every respect as was
Possible, I sent you to school and into the best society at
Albuquerque. Your father is still living, and I will tell you
Something about him before long that will astonish you.
But in one week from to-day we leave Quivira ruins for
Salt Lake City, and between now and then—or as soon as
the men all get home—your handsome, vagabond lover will
be consigned to death in the tiger-pit.”
Zella stirred not, nor even evinced the slightest emotion
&t the man’s fiendish words and threats. But nothing es-
Caped her ears. Every word was indelibly stamped on her
Memory.
Presently the villain arose and left the room, locking the
door behind him.
Then the resolute courage that she had been struggling
to keep up so long, gave way, and the maiden burst into a
flood of tears. The deepest anguish wrung her poor young
heart.
She was kept a close prisoner, her wants being attended
by the old negress that was both cook and housekeeper in
the outlaws’ retreat.
From the negress she learned thut active preparations for
eparture from the ruins were going on. She said the cap-
tain was getting uneasy—that he had expressed a fear of
that old man who had escaped from the tiger pit.
“Where is Slyly, Hulda?” Zella asked the negress one
Morning, when she brought in her breakfast.
‘* He’s skulkin’ round de ruins here like a kill-ship fiste-
dog. Guess he’s up to some deviltry. De ole massa jist
Mo’n licked thurder outen him yisterday, and he look mos’
awful sneakin’, does dat Slyly boy.”
This news, bad as it was in one respect, gave Zella some
hope. She felt satisfied that her faithful servant-boy wouid
leave nothing undone to liberate her.
188 RED ROB,
On the fourth night of her incarceration she suddenly b&
came aware that something or some one was in the room
She was so terrified that she could not move nor utter
word. It was so dark in the room that she could not sé
her hand before her. An awful horror stilled her heatti
and at last, when it seemed as though the awful suspen
could be borne no longer, a voice whispered:
“‘Missus Zel-lee!” the last syllable slipped out into ®
shrill, wheezy squeak.
It was Slyly, the Weasel.
The sudden reaction from terror to joy left Zella so weak
that she could scarcely stand.
‘“‘ Ts it you, Slyly?” she gasped, as if in doubt.
“You jist bet, Missus Zella. Guess if I wasn’t so black
like de darkness, you could see me.”
‘Where did you get in, Slyly?”
‘“‘Jings! I jis’ wiggle-waggled in; but sorry to say you
can’t git out dar, missus. But I come in to see you, aD
see if 1 could do ennything for you.”
““What’s going on outside, Slyly?”
‘© Oh, Lord, missus! ebb’rything dat’s bad. De ole mass
givin’ me de awfulestest whalin’ dat I ever had. Whew-ee!
he jis’ made de blood fly! Id kill him, dead, missus,” and
the boy’s voice fell to a calm, deliberate tone, ‘if you'd tell
me to.”
‘Oh, no, Slyly! never! You would be a murderer the?
—the wickedest of wicked people. But, what is your mas
ter and the men doing?”
‘‘ Fixing up de tiger-pit to put de young man, Mass@
Sher-a-ding, into. De men cotch two mos’ gol-whoppin’ big
bears in de bear-traps and dey am gwinc to make dem eat
de prisoner up, ’fore de Lord dey is, Missus Zella.”
“Slyly, you have been a good, kind boy to me,” said
Zella, laying her hands upon the youth’s head. ‘‘If I evet
can, I will make you a present of a pony or a gun some
day; or whatever else you would prefer.”
‘Golly, missus! guess I'll take a big, long plug ob to
backer.” :
Zella could not help smiling at the boy’s aspiration, but,
naving promised him the coveted article, she said:
awa
Tk
ole
pis
pis
Ze
Ca
yc
ly be
room.
tter 4
rt see
eart;
ensé
to 4,
ck
ou
nd
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 189
** Slyly, can’t you turn the bears out and let them get
away?”
“Guess not, missus; ’fraid dey’ll cotch dis nigger. But
T knows sumthin’ betier’n dat, I does. I know how méan
Ole massa kill de wolves dat howl in de valley. He put
Pising in de meat and give it to dem. I knows whar de
Pising is, and I guess I give some to de b’ars.”
“Do so, Slyly, and you will never regret it,” replicd
Zella, highly pleased with the youth’s idea. ‘But be very
Careful that you are not caught in the act, or it will cost you
Your life.”
‘“* Think I will be dog-goshed careful, missus,”
The boy soon left the room, his exit being made with that
Wonderful silence with which he had entered.
The next morning Zella.looked for the place where he
had effected his entry, but could see no sign of an opening
in the walls, the ceiling or the floor.
The coming night was the time set. for the execution, or
Tather the torture, of Asa Sheridan; and, as the day wore
away, a vague and horrible suspense took possession of
Zellx’s mind, which was increased by a dull, foreboding
Sound without, resembling the moan of a coming storm.
Shortly after darkness set in, Slyly stood at her side in her
Prison room.
‘Did you succeed in killing the bears, Slyly?” the maiden
asked, trembling through fear of a negative answer.
* Lord, yes, missus; de b’ars am as dead as Noah!” the |
youth replied.
Zella’s brain grew dizzy with the sudden rush of blood
from her heart that had seemed to be growing cold with fear
and horror; but she soon recovered her composure and asked:
** Does your master know it?”
‘* Guess he does, missus; and, Lord gosh! it ’d do yoah
Soul good to hear him chaw out de awfulestest cuss words.
Gracious Peter! but he’s jist a-foamin’ nad! I tell you it’s
fun to hear him cuss ‘and rave. He’s a mighty easy swearin’
man—words flow as easy like as de San Ju-ann.”
“* Does he mistrust who poisoned them?”
“No, guess not, for I heard him say he’d extarminate the
®ne that done it if he knowed who it war.”
140 RED ROB,
“Do you know what they’re going to do with ‘the ‘cap-
tive?”
“No; but I thought I’d cous and tell you what I’d doné
so’s you wouldn’t take on.”
“Well, Slyly, I want you to go back and watch them.
If you can liberate Mr. Sheridan do so, and then let me heat
from you.”
“All right, missus. Ill go right now, ’ca’se I’s in a hig
hurry—want to hear ole massa boom and swear ’bout de
b’ars. I tell ye, it’s gay.”
Zella made no reply to the eccentric youth’s remark, and
the next moment she was alone.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
AUNT SHADY’S SECRET,
Daxora Dan and Octavia St. Kenelm reached Hidden
Home in due timé and in safety.
“To Octavia the camp presented quite a different appeat-
ance to what it did when she was so ruthlessly taken away.
it looked more like that of military than of civilians, for the
soldiers with Red Rob and his band were still there. The
former numbered some forty odd, the latter just fifteen.
The horses of both the soldiers and outlaws were cor-
raled in the valley, not far away.
Red Rob was allowed the freedom of certain well defined
limits over’ which two soldiers kept strict guard. His me?
were confined in one of the,settlers’ unfinished buildings, and
seemed to take their situation with cool indifference, passing
the time in smoking, playing cards and spinning yarns.
Red Rob also seemed to take his captivity as coolly as
though he were a military prisoner being held fcr immediate
exchange. He conversed freely with the settlers and soldiers,
and expressed a regret to Judge Thompson for his. having
postponed his trail until the day following.
As soon as Dakota Dan returned with Octavia, the ‘young
outl
and
the
agg
Cor
Ca
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 141
cap- | Utlaw chief was as greatly rejoiced as any one in the camp;
‘nd ere her friends were aware of the fact, the maiden and
done | the youth were together.
“Tam sorry, young man,” Octavia said to him, as they
hem. | Zain met, ‘to find you in this situation. For all you are
heat penered an outlaw, you have been a valuable friend to us
»
hig “Octavia,” the youth replied, tenderly, ‘‘do not let my
| de | “aptivity give you one moment’s trouble. I feel confident of
4equittal.”
and “Upon what grounds?” she asked, eagerly.
| _ “Of the good deeds in excess of the bad ones that I have
€n the author of,”
“‘T hope it will prove to be even as you say.”
“Then you do care for me, Octavia?’ the youth asked,
With a tremor in his voice.
Octavia started, and her face flushed crimson.
_ “I beg you will not be offended with me, Octavia,” con
tinued Rob; ‘‘my own heart tells me that I am loved, for
Since I first met you on the road to Conejos, I have loved
an You, and there is nothing I would not have done for you and
Your love. Jt was this love that’ brought me into the San
re Yan valley, and although I am now a prisoner, this inte: view
f With you will more than repay me. for the risks Lrun. But
e fT am mistaken, Octavia, in regard to your feelings, I pray
e | You will tell me. To know that you love me, is all I ask.
will prove myself worthy of your love.”
“Red Rob, outlaw though you bel love you,” replied
Octavia, her eyes dropping, and her lips quivering with the
€motions of her young heart.
“God bless you, my darling girl,” responded the youth,
joyfully; ‘to know this is to live. Had my love not been
Teciprocated by you, I should not have cared how my trial
terminated. As it is, I only ask that you wait until I have
€en tried. The judge is waiting for the arrival of a party
of soldiers, settlers, and Sante Fe excursionists, who have
een following my trail for two weeks, and who were to
have met Captain Rushton’s command at the confluence of
the Rio del los Pinos with the San Juan. As soon as they
“trive, I will be tried.”
142 RED ROB,
‘*My prayers will be for your acquittal, Rob—”
“Robert Conrad,” said the youth. ‘Some time, if I live
I will tell you why I am called Red Rob, the Boy Road
agent.”
They conversed awhile longer, then separated. No true!
hearts ever beat happier with the responsive thrills of love
and joy.
Octavia sought Aunt Shady, but. she could not be found.
The last seen of the old darkey, she was walking leisurely
down toward the river. The maiden went in search of het.
She found her seated upon the river-bank, smoking a short
stemmed clay pipe. Tears were chasing each other dow?
her sable cheeks. They recalled the time Octavia had found
her in a similar mood while encamped near Conejos.
The old woman looked up, as Octavia came up to where
she sat, and in a tone half laughing, half crying, exclaimed:
‘‘ Law-sakes, honey!”
‘‘ Well, what’s the matter now, Aunt Shady?” the maiden
asked.
‘‘[Ps jist thinkin’ how lonely I'd be now if you’d been
killed when dem Ingins had you.”
““There’s lots of folks in the world besides me, Aunt
Shady.”
“Yes, I know dat, chile, too. But den dar ar’n’t but one
Octaby; den dey am nuffin’ tome what you’s been. Ever
sence my little Henry Clay’s been gone, you’ve filled dat va-
cant place in my heart, honey. Poor little Hankie; he war
a mos’ awful sweet cffile.”
“Do you think you’d know him, aunty, if you were to
meet him?” ;
‘*Oh, Lord sakes, yes, chile! a mudder couldn’t furgit ber
childerns. Den my litle Henry Clay had a—”
“A birth mark?—a strawberry on his arm?” laughed Oc-
tavia.
‘No, chile; but he had a finger cut off, and a big scar
on his head, and one ob his big toes war crooked; and I’d
know him by dese ’firmities.”
‘‘T should think so; but look here, aunty, the time for
you to tell that secret about my life is up; do you know
it?”
a
git ¢
pror
bert
but
by
Not
Me
live,
oad-
‘uer
ove
nd.
ely
er.
vn
1d
THR BOY ROAD-\GENT. 1438
‘Oh, bress my soul, Octaby! I war in hopes you’d for-
git dat secret. It'll cause you trouble, chile, and if I hadn’t
Promised ole Massa St. Kenelm to tell you and Massa Al-
bert, I'd die afore I'd tell it—yes, indeed I would, honey;
but if I must, why, I must.”
“You must tell it, aunty,” said Octavia, seating herself
by the old negress’ side.
“Well, chile, to come right slap-dab to de p’int, you’re
Not your fadder’s chile.”
“Not my father’s child?” exclaimed Octavia, in astonish-
Ment; ‘‘ what do you mean by that assertion?”
‘*T mean you're not Massa St. Kenelm’s chile—not Massa
Albert’s sister.”
“Ts this true, Aunt Shady?’ demanded the maiden, in
Painful surprise.
“ Yes, honor bright, honey; you’s not Massa Albert’s sister.”
“Then who am I?”
**Don’t know who, chile.”
““My God!” cried the maiden, bitterly, ‘‘am I an out-
Cast? Was I picked out of the gutter?”
‘“No, indeedy, you wa’n’t. You war a sweet, darling
little toddler left at Massa St. Kenelm’s house, all fixed up
in nicesest clothes I ebber see’d.”
r ‘‘Then brother Albert knows I am not his sister, does
ie?”
‘*No, he don’t.”
“ And why not?”
**°Ca’se I nebber told him. He had a little sister Octaby,
but she war taken away and you left in her place.”
A little cry burst from the maiden’s lips.
“Your father—dat’s ole Massa St. Kenelm, war nigh
*bout distracted when he found his little baby girl was gone,
but he come to me and said: ‘ Shady, keep dis a secret, dis
Changin’ ob children. I know who done de hellish deed,
and I'll never cease to hunt him till I gits my chile. I will
hever come back till I finds her—my Octaby. He told me
to call you Octaby—jist like his chile—to treat you kindly,
"eaze ye couldn’t help it. He said if he didn’t git back in-
Side ob twelve years, to tell, you and Albert de secret, and
Now it’s told, honey.”
1i4 RED ROB,
‘Why didn’t brother Albert know it the time the exchang?
when he come home, he nebber knowed but you war OC
taby, you’d growed so. In de meanwhile, de news come t?
vs dat Massa St. Kenelm had been killed by de Lincoln s0
jers in Arkansaw; and it war so, honey, for de whole thing
war in de papers.”
Octavia wept bitterly. Old Aunt Shady wept too.
The sound of hoofed feet suddenly started them both.
They raised their eyes and beheld that fearful apparitio?®
that had so startled the settlers a night or two before—thal
terrible creature that Dakota Dan had called a Centaur—®
creature with a human head and face upon the shoulders »
and body of a large deer. It stood upon the opposite side
of the river staring at them with its glassy eyes and
white-bearded face—so horrible, so repulsive, that the souls
of the women sickened with an indescribable abhorrence,
and with a scream of terror they turned and fled toward
camp.
An alarm at offte spread through the whole camp, and
soldiers and settlers at once flew to their arms and formed
in line of battle. But all became quiet when the cause of
the excitement became known.
‘‘ What is this creature you call Centaur?” asked Captai2
Rushton.
Dakota Dan described the animal, and then, accompanied
by the captain and a squad of soldiers, they repaired to thé
river bank where the women had seen it. But, to their dis
appointment, they found it had disappeared. Hoofprints,
however, were found in the yielding soil along the bank,
which was evidence of its having been there.
And so, none the wiser, the party returned to camp.
By this time the sun was nearly down, and a gray mist
was gathering in the valley.
was made?” 3
‘‘He war away down South gwine to college; and whe? _s
de wah broke out, he went right from de college into d@
army, and staid dar four long years; so de two years a rE
college, and de four in de Confederate army, made si* :
years,” and the old negress illustrated the fact on her fit :
gers, ‘‘and all dat time he nebber see his little sister. 5?
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 145
change A faint noise like the rumble of distant thunder was
heard afar-off in the mountains. Dakota Dan shook his head
when Ominously.
nto de “We're goin’ to have a storm, boys, Tm afeard. You
ars at Can hear the old weather-dog a-growlin’ over in the moun-
e six tain now. The rain may not reach us from the clouds,
or fin but I'll bet it ‘Il come a-boomin’ down the river from up the
So mountain. But, let it come, captain; I’ve detarmined on
r Oc one p’int, and that is to foller the track of that animal to
ne to its hidin’-place. I’m goin’ to know whether it’s man or
n s0° beast, flesh or spirit.”
hing ‘“ But night is coming on; how can you see to follow the
track?”
“Smoke of Jerusalem, man! don’t you know anything
oth. *bout Dakota Dan, the great Triangle of the West? Hu-
‘ion mility, my dorg thar, can foller a year-ole trail, and I can
hat foller him. Humility leads, I command, and Patience, my
—a ( mare here, brings up the rear in reg’lar military order. Both
ers. of ’em animals are as sagacious critters, capt’in, as ever
de sunk tooth or boxed American soil. Thar’s good blood
od in them, capt’in, as ever leaped in equine or canine veins.
Is I could trace their pedigree cl’ar back to Noah and the ark,
e; Isw’ar I can. But, capt’in, I’m goin’. Keep lots of guards
d out to-night, and then post men to watch the guards. Thar’s
no tellin’ what ’ll happen in this world.”
d ; The ranger took his dog and left the camp.
The night came on dark and gloomy. The wind soughed
z dismally through the pinons, and rumbled in hollow, sullen
tones among the hills. The gathering storm moaned in the
distance.
RED ROB,
CHAPTER XXIX.
A TRAILING A CENTAUR.
Daxotra Dan put Humility on the track of the Centaur
and moved rapidly away in pursuit. The creature had fol-
lowed down the del los Pinos to its junction with the San
Juan, when it turned and continued on down the latter
stream.
Night had already blended mountain and plain in chaotic
gloom. The sky was overcast with black, scudding clouds.
The heavens were one quivering sheet of vivid flame, ren-
dered more terrible in its awful grandeur by the constant roll
of thunder afar off.
Such storms as that threatened were not of infrequent
occurrence in this volcanic latitude, though now and then 4
fearful wind-storm swept over the mountains and plains of
southern Colorado and northern New Mexico. Dakota Dan
had become familiar with the country and its climatic freaks,
and knew exactly what to depend upon. On the night in
question he prophesied a heavy rain along the eastern range
of mountains, but he was satisfied that it would not extend
as far westward as the del los Pinos valley; that is, that there
would be little rain here, but he had no doubt but the wind
and thunder would be terrific. He was satisfied, also, that,
if there was a heavy rain to the *eastward, the streams and
gorges would empty their flood into the San Juan and fill it
to overflowing, even endangering the valley with inundation.
i | But, nothing daunted, he pushed on for miles.
Suddenly Humility came to a stop, and manifested signs
of having sighted the game they were following.
A prolonged glare of sheet lightning revealed the form of
the Centaur moving along, with the lofty, majestic tread of
a stately buck, a short way before him, its bearded face turn-
ing from side to side and glancing backward over its shoul-
ders, as though it detected the presence of danger.
It was following the river bank where the trees grew sparse,
and n
the st
again
mons
Se
as hi
cont
frig
hor
gla’
lov
hi
pr
m
dl
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 147
and now and then when the animal ascended a: little rise in
the surface of the ground, the hunter could see it outlined
against the blazing sky and appearing like some Titanic
Monster, grim and grotesque. 5
Several times the ranger was tempted to fire upon it, but,
as he could not aim with any certainty of success, he finally
Concluded not to run the risk of a shot through fear of
aur frightening it away; and so he followed on—on after the
fol- horrible creature that at times loomed up in the lightning’s
San glare, then sunk from view in the blinding gloom that fol-
‘ter lowed. Sometimes he was close upon it, then again far be-
; hind. The creature moved on all the time with the same
tic Proud, stately gait, while its bearded face kept that constant
is, movement from side to side, as though the lightning’s glare
u- blinded it.
Ul Suddenly the ranger came to a halt, and exclaimed aloud
to his dumb companion:
é { ‘‘ Humility, whar the nation are we goin’, pup?—crazy?
What are we follerin’? and what are we follerin’ it fur?
Have we journeyed through life all these years—through a
thousand dangers, to be led to death by—by what? Durn
“the thing, what is it? It ar’n’t human, nor it ar’n’t beast, but
it’s both. Ah! now I’ve got it! Heavens, pup, what con-
demned fools we’ve been! That’s the devil—the veritable
old skeezicks hisself! and like hundreds of others, we’ve been
follerin’ his Sutanic majesty, scarcely knowin’ it. Queer you
didn’t smell brimstone in his track, Humility. Tuar’s no
mistake ’bout it bein’ the superintendent of the sulphur-dig-
gin’s. He’s got a human head, pup; cloven feet, and—well,
he’s got no horns now—reckon it’s sheddin’ time for horns;
but it’s no use whinin’—it’s the old imp, and so we’d better
make the best of our fool’s errand, and turn noses prowptly,
and go ba— Jerusa'em!”
A human cry burst suddenly upon his ears.
It c-me from down the river, and on the wings of the
storm, it seemed like a wail of distress,
Dan listened for a repetition of the cry.
Away off.toward the mountains he heard a faint rolling,
Tushing, roaring sound, as if the sluice-way of heaven had
been rent asunder, and rivers of water were pouring down
148 RED ROB,
and spreading over the valley in one mighty, resistless
tide.
“By Judea, pup, she’s comin’! exclaimed Dan, accus
tomed to talk aloud to his dumb companions as though they
comprehended what he said. ‘‘ The rain’s been awful uP
mountainward. The gorges have all emptied their water
into the river at once and now it’s comin’ a-howlin’. How
it sounds! Heavens, but it’s awful! In ten minutes more
it will be here and the river ’ll be rushin’ on bank-full. Yes,
pup, and it’s beginnin’ to rain a Jeetle sprinkle here, and
now let us git to shelter.”
They turned from the river and started away toward the
bluffs.
““There again!” suddenly burst from Dan’s lips.
‘‘ Broof!” barked Humility, softly.
Both had heard that cry of distress from down the river
again.
‘We must see into it, ole dorg,” said the ranger, and turn-
ing, he glided rapidly down the river.
Those cries of distress grew plainer and plainer before him,
the roar of the advancing avalanche of water louder and
louder behind. Still he hurried on—he could not turn a
deaf ear to suffering humanity.
He suddenly discovered that the sound came from out
upon the river. He glanced off in the direction from whence
it came, when in the lurid glare of the lightning he saw that
which sent a shudder to his soul. In the middle of -the
river was an island barren of vegetation. It loomed up
against the glaring waters plain and distinct. A post was
planted in the center of this island, and to the post was
bound a man in an upright position.
From this helpless creature’s lips issued those cries of dis-
tress, for well he must have known that the torrent, whose
thunderous tread: was plainly audible, would sweep him from
existence.
The quivering sheet-lightning that illumined the surround-
ing with the glare of: the midday sun, showed the ranger how
securely the helpless man was lashed to the post.
The water that separated the old borderman from the island
Was quite shallow, and the ravger was about to step down
t
the’
whe
opp
4
bo
Te
resistless
» accus-
sh they
ful up
water
How
more
Yes,
, and
the
ver
RS
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 149
the bank and wade over to the helpless. man’s assistance,
when he discovered the forms of several men standing on the
Opposite shere with rifles in their hands.
What did it mean? Why were they there? Had they
bound that helpless man to the stake on the island?
There were few moments for idle speculations. The tor-
rent was near. The rain was falling fast—the .cries of the
doomed man sounded above all.
Humility started suddenly up with a low, fierce growl.
Dan heard a slight rustle behind him, and turning, he
Saw the bushes near him suddenly parted, and a black, ter-
Tified face appear in the opening!
CHAPTER XXX
SLYLY AND THE TORRENT.
Ir was Slyly, the Weasel, that appeared before the ranger.
‘* Zip-ee, stranger!” exclaimed the young darkey; ‘‘did I
skeer you bad?’ .
‘“Who are you, »nyhow?—an imp of darkness?” respond-
ed Dan, confronting the boy, while Humility kept up his
growling.
“Pm black as sin, massa—black as a chunk whittled out
ob de night; but if you jis’ make dat or’nery-lookin’ dog ob
your’n quit his smarlin’ and take his teeth in, I’ll come out
ob here and tel] you who I is.”
Dan quieted his dog, and the little darkey slid out of the
bushes like an eel.
‘* Now I’s Slyly, the Weasel, and live up to de ruins; and,
massa, if you can save dat young man out dar what de
wicked men are goin’ to kill, de young missus ’ll never for-
git to pray for you.”
“Who is that man? and why is he fastened to that post?”
asked Dan,
‘“‘He’s Mister Shear-a-ding, and he’s put dar to drown,
*kase he lubs de ole massa’s gal. Ole Massa Hamallado is
150 RED | ROB,
an awful bad man. ‘But Lord, massa, don’t you hear de
torrent comin’ ?”
“Tm not deaf, nigger.”
‘Wal, can’t you save-de young man for Miss Zella’s sake?”
“It’s too late now; thie torrent’s here—oh! Je-rusalem!”
‘*Oh, Lord!” groaned the boy.
With the rush and roar of a hundred trains of cars along
their iron road, the torrent swept past them, bearing upon its
foamy crest masses of floating timber and debris. It seemed
utterly impossible that human life could withstand the awful
tread of the seething giant. But no sooner had the head of
the torrent passed by, and the water in its wake sought @
general level imthe bed of the river, than that wail of dis-
tress again issued forth upon the night.
Dan glanced over the now full, rushing river, and, to his
surprise and horror, beheld the bound and fettered man still
at his post. The island, however, was submerged, and the
doomed man nearly covered. Only his head and shoulders
were above the rushing tide.
The river was nearly bank-full and still rising rapidly.
A few minutes more, and the life of Asa Sheridan will have
been ended.
The young man’s terror and mental torture were far more
terrible than they would have been had he been consigned
to the tiger-pit. It was by a. miracle only that he escaped
being ground to atoms under the heel of the flood-monster,
to be tortured to death by inches as the water crept slowly
up his breast and neck. He struggled with all the despera-
tion of a madman to free himself, but the water had drawn
his bonds all the tighter, and his efforts were as futile as a
child’s. His enemies had made sure that he would not es-
cape, and then, to make assurance doubly sure, they stood
upon the bank to watch him perish.
To shoot a man down seemed no pleasure to Leopold
Hamallado. It was too soon over with. He loved to see
an enemy writhe in agony, as we have already seen in the
case of Basil Walraymond. When he found that the two
bears were dead—had been poisoned—his devilish brain was
put to work to conjure up a substitute for the beasts. The
storm muttering afar off suggested an idea. He knew by
former
the m<¢
known
Tepairt
far, al
which
tures,
heath
Si
ser pi
coul
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ing
mei
was
r
has
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ir de
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ong
its
ed
ul
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 151
“ormer observations what was sure to follow the storm in
the mountains—the flooding of the San Juan. He made
known his plans to his men, and with the captive at once
Tepaired to the island to put them into execution. And, so
far, all had worked well; and with that~ fiendish delight
Which appeared to be ‘the controlling element of their na-
tures, they watched the form of the youth slowly sinking be-
Neath the rising waters.
Slowly, and with all the horror in the touch of a slimy
Serpent, the water crept up the young man’s neck. | He
Could turn his head from: side to side. He could glance
along the surface of the lightning lit waters and see it roll-
ing around him. He could see. the dusky forins of his tor-
Mentors standing on the high bank, but no friendly form
Was to be seen.
The water at length reached’ his chin, He saw that he
had but a minute longer to live. The rushing river was
black with floating logs and debris swept down from the
Mountains; and it was only the post against which he was
leaning that saved the young man from being crushed to
atoms by these. :
The last hope of earthly assistance faded from Asa Sheri-
dan’s breast, and he lifted to God in prayer his trembling
Voice. ~
Something brushed each cheek. He turned his head and
Saw that a huge forked log had caught astride of the post to
Which he was bound. Each prong was about ten feet in
length by a foot and a half in diameter; and while Sheri-
dan was contemplating each with that vague hope with
Which a drowning man grasps at a straw, a voice within a
foot of him suddenly spoke:
“Stranger, ye’re in a monstrous ticklish place, ain’t
yer”
Sheridan bent his head to one side and saw the head of a
Man close up in the crotch of the huge fork. It was a thin,
rough, bearded face, yet one calculated to inspire the suffer-
ing man with hope. His heart leaped with joy, and his lips
articulated the imploring appeal:
“ Help, stranger, or I’ll drown!”
“T believe you,” replied the man in the crotch of the
RED ROB,
log, reaching out and cutting young Sheridan’s bonds; ‘‘ nowy
jist as soon as yer hands are free, throw ’em up and cling
to the logs. But keep yer head well behind the prongs,
and then them devils can’t shoot you. There, now, stran-
ger; how’s that?”
“Tm free!—great God be thanked! I am free once
more!” the young man exclaimed, in alowtone. ‘‘ Who are
you, friend? Heaven’s instrument of mercy?”
“Tm familiarly known as Dakota Dan, the Triangle red-
skin extarminator. Thar’s two more of us back yet—one’s
Humility, my dorg, and the other’s Patience, my mare—
awful pre-dicament you war in, wa’n’t it, youngster?”
‘‘T was dying by inches, Dakota Dan,” the young man
responded; “‘but how are we to escape, now the log has
lodged against this post?”
“< Jist wait, youngster; the water ‘ll soon raise and boost
the bark over the post, then away we'll go, heigh-ho, down
the giver! Keep a hand on each prong to support yerself,
and then we'll run no risks—there!—now!—here we go
a-scootin’!” r
Leopold Hamallado and his minions saw the great forked
log lodge against the post. Its prong next to them concealed
the youth’s head from their view. But still they kept their
watch until the top of the post had disappeared beneath the
rising waves; and when the fork floated on, they never
dreamed that it bore two human souls with it. Outwitted,
defeated villains, they supposed the mad waves had covered
their victim, and that the morning sun would rise upon a life-
less, bloated form standing erect upon the island, a tempting
feast to those filthy-winged inhabitants of the air—the vul-
tures!
en
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 158
CHAPTER XXXII.
ON TERRA FIRMA.
‘Tus "ere is what I call boatin’ under diffickilty, young-
ster,” said Dakota Dan, as he and Sheridan floated swiftly
down the roaring river; ‘‘I’ve sailed on canoes and other
large vessels that there way, whar the accommodations war
much better’n they are here. Most too much moisture ’bout
this for me, stranger.”
‘“‘T observe that you are inclined to take things coolly, old
friend,” said Asa. : 5
“Yes, this water, especially. But, youngster, kick out
vigorously with your left foot, and we’ll try and ‘gee’ this
ere craft to’rds the shore, and let’s land. I never did like
boatin’.”
Asa complied with the ranger’s request, and a perceptible
change in the course of the log was observed. It veered off
toward the right shore, and in a few minutes the men had
effected a safe janding and sought the cover of the trees that
fringed the river.
‘** Now then, young man,” said Dakota Dan, “I’m in my
element, and if you’ll jist trip along with me up to whar
Humility, my dorg, and ole Mortality, my rifle, ave, I’ll be
much ob-eeged to you.”
‘“ Dakota Dan, I am at your service in anything you may
command,” Asa said, as they started off up the river. ‘‘ You
have saved my life, and—”
“ Certainly,” interrupted the ranger, for he knew what was
coming, ‘ I’ve been doin’ a great deal for sufferin’ humanity
for these thirty years, and it’s jist as common fur me. to save
a life as it is to wing a red-skin, But. them war really rob-
bers that haltered you up thar, war they?”
“They were outlaws of the vilest character, but what led
you to think they were?”
“A little black negro boy, ‘hat drapped from the clouds,
154 RED ROB,
told me they war. He wara cute little brat I tell ye—called
himself the Weasel.”
‘“Indeed?” exclaimed Sheridan. ‘‘ Has he gone?”
‘Gosh, jings, no! Massa Shear-a-ding, here I is!” ex-
claimed a voice, and Slyly came bounding through the dark-
ness, and seizing Asa by the hand, kissed it-with joy. ‘‘ Oh,
Cesars, Massa Shear-a-ding!. You don’t know how glad I is
dat you’s safe. I told dat man it war you and he saved you;
and now the young missus ’ll git me a whoppin’ big plug ob
tobacker. Kiyi! ain’t dis chile happy as a pickle?” andthe
youth executed a leap and a tumble that would have done
credit to a young gymnast.
“Where is Zella, Slyly?” Sheridan asked.
“Tn de ruins locked up,” replied the boy; ‘‘ ole massa’s
jist been raisin’ de partic’ler ole Scratch down dar. He shut
de young missus up; cussed ole Huldah, de nigger cook,
black; and whaled de very nation outen dis chile. Whew!
but de ole sinner jist scotch!”
‘“* What was the matter with the monster?” asked Asa.
‘He war mad—jist hornet-mad ’bout de bears.”
“What about the bears?”
“ Jings! but ivll make yoah hair stiff up when I tell you.
You see ole massa war gwine to put you in de tiger-pit and
let de bears eat you up smack and smooth. But Miss Zella
tell dis chile to p’isen de bears, and, gosh! I done it. And
den’s when de storm begin to mutter; ole massa jist rave and
dance. When he sees dar war a storm comin’, away he
went wid you to de island—swear he drown you, and away
I poked arter him. I couldn’t do any thing, but I war aw-
fully tickled when dat gemman come up. I told him who
you war, and away he went to save you. Golly, massa, he’s
a bully ole chap.” -
Dan chuckled to himself.
‘““And your mistress is a prisoner?” asked Asa,
“Yes, ‘sah.”
2 And can you get into her prison?”
* Yes, sah.”
‘Will you see her to-night, and tell her T am safe?”
“Yes, sah; any thing else?” with a broad grin.
“Tell her to be patient—that I will rescue her as soon as
t
‘!HE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 168
I can get force enough together to capture the outlaws and
all.” 7
‘Lord sakes, massa! if you takes de young missus away,
and kill de robbers, what’ll come ob dis poor nigger boy?”
‘**] will see that you are well cared‘for, Slyly. You have
been a faithful friend to your mistress and to me.”
“* Ki-yi! dat sounds good, massa; I’s your huckleberry.”
‘Be careful that your master does not catch you in your
going to Zella’s prison.”
“Tl see to dat, massa; but, scissors! wouldn’t I like to
tell ole massa dat you am safe.”
“Why so?”
‘* Oh, jist to see him snap his teeth and grit his eyes.”
Dakota Dan indulged in a fit of hearty laughter over the
odd expression of the lively little darkey.
‘But 1 won’t tell him, in course, massa,” the youth con-
tinued.
‘*Then hasten back to the ruins and see Zella at once.”
‘* All right, massa,” and the boy was gone.
Dakota Dan and Sheridan continued on up the river till
they came to where Humility was guarding his master’s
Weapons.
*That’s Humility, my dorg, stranger,” said the ranger,
and he went on and gave a detailed history of the animal
and his wonderful exploits, winding up by inviting Asa to
accompany him to the camp on the del los Pinos.
Sheridan gladly accepted, and the two started off up the
river.
The young man’s spirits became revived. With the as-
sistance of the soldiers, whom Dan informed him were so
near, he hoped to be enabled to effect the rescue of Zella
’ and the capture of the outlaw band.
RED ROB,
CHAPTER XXXII.
RED ROB UNDER TRIAL.
Ow1nG to circumstances—that of high waters—over which
they had no control, Dakota Dan and Asa Sheridan did not
reach the camp until the next day about one o’clock.
They found the trial of Red Rob going on when they ar-
rived, and so great was the excitement, and so deep the in-
terest manifestid by all parties, that Sheridan had no oppor-
tunity of making known the object that laid nearest to his
own heart; but was compelled to await the termination of
the proceedings.
During the day a party of soldiers and several Mexican
ranchmen, who had suffered losses at the hands of Red Rob,
came in from the east, and joined Captain Rushton, who
had been expecting them a day or two. This party had
come directly from Conejos, from whence they had followed
Red Rob’s band, word having been previously sent to the
nearest military post that the young outlaw and his gang
were in the vicinity of Conejos. When it was found, how-
ever, that the robbers were headed for across the mountains,
a messenger was dispatched to Fort Wingate for assistance,
or rather, for the military there to endeavor to head the rob-
bers off, as it was generaily believed that they were moving
toward Arizona.
At the very time that the mcssenger reached Wingate,
a party of excursionists—all gentlemen—from Santa Fe,
reached there also on their. way to the San Juan valley:
Among them were Judge Obed Thompson and several officers
of tlie civil government of the Territory, besides several pro-
fessional gentlemen, all of whom were spending their sum-
mer vacation in a trip to northern New Mexico. But the
news of the outlaws’ movement checked their gushing spirits
of romantic adventure; and all would have returned home,
had it not been that the commandant of Fort Wingate de-
cided to send a party of cavalry, under Captain Rushton, up
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 157
to the San Juan to look out for Red Rob. and his gang.
The excursionists all resolved to go on with the soldiers; and
did so.
As fate would have it, Captain Rushton’s party was
destined to capture Red Rob and his band; while Jucge
Thompson was also destined to ‘sit in judgment on the
young outlaw.”
The judge was one of those remarkable Western men,
more noted for his eccentricities than legal lore. He had
an abundance of self-esteem and dogged perseverance, which,
in a measure, accounted for his holding the high position he
did; though some attributed all to political favoritism. But,
be that as it may, Judge Thompson claimed the right to
convene court at any time in criminal matters, and at any
place. He was a strong adherent, or at least had been, to
the laws of Judge Lynch, having had considerable experi-
ence at one time and another, in Texas and Arkansas.
The judge had convened a special court for the trial of
Red Rob. He was not very particular about those many
little technicalities and points of order so closely observed
by most judicials. Nor was he at all particular about his
own choice of sentences, often using those more forcible
than elegant. In short, Judge Obed Thompson was a re-
presentative Western man.
In the absence of regular officers, the judge supplied their
places by appointment. A sheriff and prosecuting attorney
were selected from among his Santa Fe friends. He then is-
sued a venire facias for a jury of twelve men.
The jury was composed of seven soldiers, three of the ex-
cursionists and two of the settlers. The former were really
exempt from such duty in civil courts, but upon this occa-
sion, wherein they anticipated an interesting time, they con-
sented to serve.
The jury being impanneled, the judge stg a all ready
for the trial to begin.
No stately edifice inclosed the band of courtiers; no
princely court-room was destined to ring with the legal elo-
quence of that dashing young disciple of ‘Blackstone who
had been appointed as prosecuting attorney, A clump of
pinons was selected as the most favorable place for the
158 RED ROB,
‘court to sit.” The jury occupied a fallen log, while the
judge was indulged in the luxury of a chair, and a table for
a desk, furnished by the settlers of Hidden Home.
Red Rob occupied a seat in front of the judge, and when
he was called upon to speak, he rose promptly and spoke in
a clear, unmoved tone, while his handsome face glowed with
a half-mischievous smile.
The ‘prosecuting attorney” was a young man who em-
braced this opportunity to display his legal knowledge, as
it was, in fact, the very first case in which he had been
called upon to render assistance alone, and earn a fee that
was not to be divided with a senior partner.
‘*Red Rob,” said the judge, when general order had been
restored, ‘‘ what is your right name?”
‘Robert B. Conrad,” replied the youth, that mysterious
smile playing about his lips.
‘Well, Robert B. Conrad, are you ready for trial?” ques-
tioned the judge, producing a large meerschaum pipe and
silver tobacco-box.
‘‘’What difference would it make if I were not?” replied
-the young outlaw. -
“‘It°is the duty incumbent upon the court to allow the
prisoner time for defense. If you desire witnesses, time
will be granted you to procure them. If you want the as-
sistance of an attorney, you will be allowed time, also, to
obtain one.”
“‘T thank the court for this kind information,” said the
young road-agent,; ‘‘ but I have all the witnesses I care for;
and, as to an attorney, F think so little of them that I shall
forego the needed nuisance, and conduct my own side of
this scrape.”
“Then let the witnesses for the State be called,” said
Thomas Jefferson Overbaron, the ‘‘ State’s attorney,” who
felt sensibly hit by the prisoner’s remarks.
The sheriff arose and called the names: Christopher Wal-
broke, Don Manuel Raviso and Juan Jose Vaca.
The three men came forward as their names were called.
Albert St. Kenelm was not a little surprised when his eyes
fell upon the hard, cruel face of Christopher Walbroke. He
recognized it as the face of the gambler who had taken such
—
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. , 159
a conspicuous part in the fight at the Conejos saloon, on that
memorable night, and who then answerd to the name of
Manuel Chicaloo. The major knew that this man’s tes!\imony
would be made as strong as the villainous character of a re-
vengeful spirit could make it, against the youth who had so
often proven a terror to the gamblers and drunkards of
Conejos.
Don Manuel Raviso was a wealthy Mexican gentleman
who had suffered at the hands of Red Rob’s gang,
Juan Jose Vaca was the overseer of a large ranch north
of Santa Fe which had also been visited by the outlaws.
The three were sworn. Don Raviso took the stand.
‘‘Don Manuel Raviso,” said Overbaron, with that free,
important air so peculiar to the legal profession, yet which
all could see was assumed, ‘will you please state to the jury
your occupation, the piace of your residence, and whether
you do, or do not, recognize the prisoner at the bar?”
‘*T own and operate a large ranch about forty miles south
of Conejos,” began the witness, ‘‘and I recognize the pris-
oner at the bar as Red Rob.”
Overbaron gave Red Rob a glance which seemed to say,
‘What do you think of attorneys now?” as though Raviso’s
statement had been made solely upon the young lawyer’s in-
stigation. Then he ran his eyes over the crowd, permitting
them to rest for a moment upon the pretty, anxious faces of
Octavia St. Kenelm and Maggie Boswell, of whose eyes he
believed he had become an object of admiration.
“Senor Raviso,” he said, running his fingers through his
hair, then glancing at his hand with a close, intense look, as
though he considered the single brown hair that had been
dragged from his head worth more than the soul of the boy
outlaw, ‘‘ state to the court,” he continued, after a moment’s
hesitation, ‘‘ under what circumstance you heretofore met the
prisoner.”
“Under circumstances over which I had no control,” re-
plied the witness, and an outburst of laughter followed the
curt response. Even the judge was compelled to conceal
his face in clouds of tobacco-smoke in order to maintain the
sober dignity of the court. Overbaron never ‘ cracked” a
smile. ‘‘ About one month ago,” Raviso continued, ‘my
160 RED ROB,
hacienda was visited by a band of outlaws. They broke into
my casa and confronted me in my library. The leader drew
a revolver, and in the name of Red Rob demanded my
money aud jewels. I gave him my watch, some money, and
a large umount of silver plate. Then they left.”
“That’s all, Don Raviso—all that’s necessary, unless the
robber wislies to cross-examine,” said the attorney, venturing
to elevate his heels upon the judge’s stand.
‘““] would like to ask the witness,” said Red Rob,
‘‘whether it was in the night or daytime when he was at
tacked and robbed ?”
“] should think you knew yourself; however, it was in
the night,” replied Raviso—“ on the night of the twentieth
day of May last.”
‘“©At what hour in the night?” asked the prisoner.
“‘T object, your honor!” cried Overbaron, springing to his
feet.
‘State your objections,” said the judge, his half-closed
eyes following the little clouds of smoke drifting upward
. among the pinon boughs,
‘‘The question is not in the order of a direct cross exam-
ination,” said Overbaron; ‘‘ moreover, it is immaterial to us
whether it was night-or day, or at what hour, the witness
was robbed.”
‘“ Your honor,” said Red Rob, rising to his feet, ‘‘if it is
immaterial to this court where and at what hour the witness
was robbed, I would like to know what the learned gentle-
man is ranting about. . But, your honor, I put the question
that I may be enabled to prove that I was not at the ranch
at the time the witness refers to.”
The court sustained the question, and Raviso answered:
‘‘Tt was precisely eleven o’clock, for when I handed the
robber my watch—an open face—1l glanced at it and noted
the time exactly.”
‘‘T am done with the witness,” said Red Rob.
‘* Juan Jose Vaca will take the stand,” said the prosecu-
ting attorney.
This witness was put upon the stand and testified that he
was the overseer of a large ranch north of Santa Fe, and
that, about five weeks previous, a band of robbers had eii-
te!
at
at
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT 161
tered the premises and stolen a number of horses and valu-
ables. The leader of that gang he recognized in the prisoner
at the bar, although it was in the night when the attack was
made.
The cross-examination was confined to a single question,
which elicited nothing favorable to the prisoner.
Christopher Walbroke was next called
‘© Mr. Walbroke,” said Overbaron, contemplating his ele-
vated feet with a look of admiration, ‘‘ where do you live?—
what do you do for a livelihood?--and do you, or do you
not, recognize the prisoner before you?”
“T reside at Conejos,” replied the witness, ‘‘and since
Missouri Moll got hurt J’ve been drivin’ stage in his place till
I started on this tramp. Yes, sir!’ and the witness began to
wax wroth, ‘“‘ I recognize that chap as Red Rob, the very
Villain that—”
‘* Sir!” interrupted the court, savagely, ‘‘ you must remem-
ber that you are upon oath, and that no such contempt of
court will be tolerated. The use of further profanity will
receive condemnation—I won’t have it,” and the judge sunk
back into his seat, and calmly resumed his smoking.
A brief silence ensued, but the stage-driver, having recoy-
ered from his unexpected reprimand, resumed his evidence.
‘Wal, I know that’s Red Rob—the very feller that’s
robbed the Santa Fe coach three times this summer. - But
about a month ago a passel of us Conejos boys were in the
Swill-Pail saloon there, havin’ a good, quiet’ time, when that
very boy came in, dressed up in citizen’s clothes, and lookin’
jist as green as grass. He got into a fuss with big Missouri
“Moll, when ole Dakota Dan and another feller took his part,
and a free fight ensued. While the fight war goin’ on, he
pulled a whistle outen his pocket, and then he put it to his
lips and blowed a screecher.. The next minute his hull gang
of robbers rode right into that saloon and began to shoot
and iang right and Jeft into the crowd.”
Walbroke stopped to take breath, when the attorney em-
braced the moment to make an ass of himself by putting a
question he regretted the next moment.
‘‘ What time was the attack made?”
‘t Jist about midnight.”
RED ROB,
‘* Was anybody killed?”
“‘ Three men were killed dead.”
‘‘Did the robbers steal or destroy anything?”
“No, they got too drunk to steal anything but licker,
and then they soon cut for their holes in the mountains. If
they hadn’t, we’d ’a’ give them goss, we would.”
‘* When did you see Red Rob again?”
‘A few nights after’ards at a baile. He war there, and
boasted that he war Red Rob, and broke up the dance.”
‘* Was that the last time you saw him?”
“Yes, till to-day.”
“‘That’s all, Mr. Walbroke.”
‘¢ J will ask you a question or two,” said Red Rob.
‘‘ Who’s axin’ these questions?” retorted the surly Wal-
broke, manifesting his spirit of revenge in the look he gave
the prisoner.
‘‘ We're all having something to say, and I will only ask
you a few plain questions, Mr. Walbroke.”
“‘T won’t answer ’em—I’ll die first,” was the savage re-
sponse.
Overbaron smiled grimly, and inwardly wished the coward-
ly witness would keep his word.
Every eye sought the face of the judge. It soon ap-
peared from the white vapor that hung around it like a heavy
fog.
‘Mr, Walbroke,” the judicial smoke-stack announced,
‘‘you will answer all questions put to you by the prisoner—
promptly, and without equivocation.” s
Walbroke frowned sullenly, Overbaron looked sharply at
Red Rob, and Red Rob resumed his questioning:
‘* You say that the robbers rode into the saloon and be
gan shooting right and left—that three men were killed;
now state whether these men came to their death by bullets
or knives.” '
‘“They were stabbed with knives,” replied the witness,
crustily, though a shake of Overbaron’s head, and a sudden
contraction of the brows, told him that he had committed 4
blunder.
‘‘ Every one of them?” questioned Red Rob.
Yes, every one of them,” replied the witness, still un-
THE BOY .ROAD-AGENT. 163
able to understand the grimaces. of Overbaron, who, unable
to stand it longer, sprung to his feet and exclaimed:
“I object, your honor, to this being admitted as evi-
dence, upon these grounds: there are cases where none but
a skillful surgeon can discriminate between the track of a
knife and that of a bullet; such might have been the case—
in fact was, without a doubt.”
‘Your honor,” said Red Rob, ‘‘T hold that the ques-
tion should be in order on these grounds, if no other, that
aman is a fool that can’t tell a pistol-wound from that of
a knife.”
A murmur of applause burst from the lips of the audi-
ence.
The court started drowsily from a gentle doze, and said,
with a yawn:
‘The court s’tains the evidence.”
Overbaron’s face became flushed with silent rage at his
repeated unsuccessful attempts to suppress evidence that was
really favorable to the prisoner.
‘** You also stated,” continued Red Rob, “‘ that a general
free fight was going on when the robbers rode in, and that
the robbers got drunk, Did they pay for their liquor?”
‘“Who ever heard of robbers paying for anything they’d
stole?” was Walbroke’s reply, which afforded Overbaron
an opportunity for an outburst of laughter that was dry and
lonely.
‘‘ What else did the robbers do?” asked Red Rob, glan-
cing toward the young lawyer, as though he expected an
objection. But the limb of the law seemed engaged in some
little speculation of his own just at that moment, and
failed to put in “the objection” which seemed to be his
strongest point.
‘Wal, sir, that very night,” continued the witness,
** Red Rob’s gang posted up notices on every road leading
from Conejos, informin’ us people that if we molested two
certain persons, that war in the fight at the saloon, they
would play thunder with us.”
‘Were these notices dated?” asked Red Rob, determined
to go as far ag he could from the main question.
“They war.”
RED ROB,
‘‘ What date was on them?” glancing at Overbaron, who
was still mentally engaged, and at the judge, who was nod-
ding in his chair.
“Tt war May the twentieth.”
“T object!” suddenly cried Overbaron.
The spectators laughed, the judge awoke, and, seeing
Overbaron on his feet, guessed at the truth, and said:,
“The court overrules the objection—no need of argu-
ment.”
“You are sure the notices bore that date, are you?” con-
tinued Red Rob.
“Tm not a fool; guess I know what I am sayin’.”
‘* Well, then, on the night of the twentieth of last May,
about midnight, you say my men rode into the Conejos sa-
- loon.”
‘Yes, 1 swear to it.”
“Mr. Walbroke,” said Overbaron, as an idea seemed to
have suddenly entered his mind, ‘‘I would like to ask you
one more question; how far is it from Conejos to Don Man-
uel Raviso’s ranch?”
*‘ Just fifty miles as the crow flies,” replied the witness.
Red Rob turned and laughed in the young lawyer’s face,
saying:
‘A very unfortunate question, and gives the right to cross-
examine.” :
Overbaron looked as though he would faint. His own
ignorance of the distance between the two places had led to
an irreparable blunder. He did not care as much for the
evidence nor what it amounted to, so that he maintained his
position among his friends by displaying evidence of ability
as a lawyer. He felt satisfied that Red Rob would’be shot,
no difference what the evidence amounted to. He knew
that public opinion had already passed sentence upon the
‘ young outlaw, and that an enraged people would not allow
the culprit to go unhung. The trial was simply a farce,
having for its object a show of mercy toward the prisoner.
*“'You say, Mr. Walbroke,” said Red Rob, “it is fifty
miles between Conejos and Raviso’s ranch. Could a maa
ride that distance tn one hour ?” ‘ g
“No, nor in five of ’em.”
uv
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 165
“* That’s all,” said the prisoner.
““That’s all,” added the attorney.
“* Has the prisoner any rebutting testimony to offer?” asked
the judge. /
‘None, except that already given by the witnesses for
the State,” replied the young outlaw, contrary to the hopes
of many, who had become favorably impressed with the
youth, and the calm, fearless manner im’ which-he had con-
ducted himself throughout the trial. His reply was, to
Octavia and Maggie, a bitter disappointment. They felt
certain, by the youth’s indifference, and that pleasant, mis-
chievous smile that lit up his face, that he would produce
evidence that would procure his acquittal.
‘This, then, closes the case,’ said the judge, “and I
shall now submit the evidence, such as it is, to the careful
consideration of the jury, without argument.”
This proved a bitter disappointment to Overbaron, for if
he had been a little awkward in-examining the witnesses,
he hoped to have-repaired all and shed immortal luster upon
his name in a long, brilliant and conclusive argument and
summary of the evidence.
“In submitting this case to you for your verdict, gentle-
men of the jury,” continued the judge, ‘‘I hope you wikl
confine yourselves strictly to the testimony, and let no out-
side ma‘ters or prejudices influence you in the least. You
will also bear in mind that there were some conflictions in
the evidence as to dates, and make such deductions and al-
lowances as will ultimately lead you ‘o the primary truth
of the whole. Do not be in a hurry. .
a
THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. 179
tell you all about the man In the first place, he and I had
a little dispute, years ago, in the State of Arkansas. War
wick got the advantage of me at first, but I finally beat him
out. Istole his child—a little girl. Nothing will reach a
man’s heart quicker than to steal a petted child. It has
been my way of doing revenge Well, I took Warwick’s
child and exchanged it for another—that of Aaron St.
Kenelm, a gentleman who had done me a grievous wrong.
This last child 1 have now—a beautiful woman. But War-
wick, I presume, thought I had his child yet, and hunted
me down—followed me here. But I got the best of him
again—well, to make a long story short, if you have ever
seen a creature around here with the body of a deer and the
head of a man, you have seen that much of your friend
Warwick. The deer is a tame one, and we arranged y: ur
friend’s head upon it as a ghastly warning to others. And
now comes Basil Walraymond—-the father of the last girl I
adopted,’ and the villain smiled like a demon. ‘In a few
days his venerable face will go stalking through the valley
of the San Juan,’ and this, Asa, is the history of the Cén-
taur. I thought I recognized the face the first time it
came to our camp. Two days after this visit, I dug out of
my prison and escaped, and have been hiding around the
ruins ever since in hopes of being able to liberate you and
Walraymond.”
‘* Walraymond escaped the night we were first captured,”
replied Asa, ‘so did I, but 1 was recaptured again, and God
and I only know what I have suffered.”
Nathan Wolfe’s escape had led to one discovery that
proved a source of pleasure to the St. Kenelms. Octavia——
the child left by Hamallado—was not the villain’s child, but
the child of the dead man Warwick, who hai been slain,
while in search of his child.
Wolfe took possession of the ghastly remains of his friend,
and interred it in the grave that had been hollowed out for
Red Rob’s remains; and thus ended the mystery of the Cen-
taur.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
CLOSING EVENTS.
BerorE night had fully set in Red Rob, as his friends
continued to call him, and his men, accompanied by Dakota
Dan, Asa Sheridan and Basil Walraymond, besides a number
of soldiers, set out for the den of the outlaws.
When about a mile from the place a halt was ordered,
when Dakota Dan and Basil Walraymond crept forward to
reconnoiter the ruins. They found a great commotion
among the outlaws, and from observation they soon guessed
what was going on. They were preparing to evacuate the ruins.
The scouts hurried back and reported, when the whole
party swept down upon the outlaws. A short conflict en-
sued, but the robbers being cut off from the ruins by a
flank movement, every man of them was captured or killed.
Among the latter was Leopold Hamallado, whose death
saved Judge Lynch a case.
Zella was found prepared for the flight from the ruins.
Asa Sheridan sought for her the moment the fight began.
He found her in the room where she had been kept a pri-
soner, and the reunion of the lovers was one of unbounded
love and joy.
When Zella learned, from the lips of her lover, that Basil ;
Walraymond, the old man whose life she had saved by
throwing him a knife that memorable night when he stood
in the tiger-pit, was her father, she fell upon her knees and
between sobs of joy thanked God for having sent her a
father, ay! and a brother, too, for both were soon in her
presence, showering kisses of love and joy upon the pretty,
pale face.
The ruins were searched anda vast amount of booty
found stowed away. Upon the person of Hamallado was
found the heavy gold watch which Don Raviso swore Red
Rob’s band had taken from him. This, along with many
other things, went to corroborate Captain Conrad’s story—
that Raviso had been robbed by a band of outlaws whose
~~
ee
THE. BOY ROAD-AGENT. 181
haunts were west of the mountains, and, as the young ran-
ger believed, in the valley of the San Juan.
Securing all that they could find, the rangers returned
to Hidden Home. The old negress, Huldah, and Slyly, the
Weasel, were taken along.
Aaron St. Kenelm, uo longer Basil Walraymond, led Zella
into O-.tavia’s tent, and made known their relationship to
each other. Octavia wept bitterly, and Zella wept, too.
Nathan Wolfe had already held an interview with Octavia,”
and had broken to her the sad news of her father’s death;
but Nathan spared from her sensitive heart the story of the
shocking mutilation of her father’s remains, and that it was
his lifeless face that stared from the head of the Centaur.
_Octavia received much comfort from the assurance that
she should always be considered as one of the St. Kenelm
family.
Each one of the girls was to bear the name she then bore—
Zella St. Kenelm and Octavia Warwick.
While the St. Kenelms were rejoicing over their providen-
tial reunion, a scream outside suddenly startled them.
Albert rushed out of the tent, and was not a little surprised
to see old Aunt Shady with the boy Slyly hugged up to her
breast so tight that the boy’s eyes fairly protruded from his
head, while she was pouring kisses and words of endearment
upon the little fellow.
The boy was kicking, squirming and struggling for liberty,
threatening the old negress with the vengeance of “ Missus
Zella” if she did not release him. But Aunt Shady held on,
and a rauger was about to intercede in the boy’s behalf when
the old woman burst forth:
‘“Oh, Hankie Clay, darling! don’t you know yoah poor,
broken-hearted ole mudder? Speak, chile ob my heart—
speak out, or I’il jist done gone und die, honey!”
“Don’t know you from ole Huldah,” gasped the boy.
“ Jist you let me go, or I call de missus or Massa Shear-a-
ding.”
Shady released her constrictor grasp upon the youth’s form,
but still clung to his arm, and continued her hold, too, until
sue had convinced all around her, if not the boy, that she
was the little fellow’s mother.
RED ROB, THE BOY ROAD-AGENT.
And Aunt Shady was happy, too, and laughed and cried
by turns until she forgot her joys and pleasures of that night
in sleep.
The following morning the soldiers and excursionists left
Hidden Home for Fort Wingate, taking with them the out-
laws captured at the ruins. :
Red Rob and his men remained in the valley of the del los
Pinos several days, and in the mean time succeeded in con-
Vincing the settlers tliat the dangers surrounding them would
not admit of a successful settlement being made. And so
the little party pulled up and moved up into Colorado, where
in as lovely a fertile valley as the sun ever shone upon tliey
once more “‘ pitched their tents;” and where they still reside,
enjoying all the blessings and rewards that follow in the wake
of happiness, industry and enterprise.
That same year Major St. Kenelm and Maggie Boswell and
Asa Sheridan and Zella St. Kenelm were married; and if
their courtship days have been dark and cloudy, those that
followed have been bright with the joys and sunshine of mar-
ried bliss.
Aaron St. Kenelm, that brave and noble old Basil Wal-
raymond, makes his home with his son Albert, and is still in
possession of vigorous health and manhood.
Slyly is a servant in Zella’s family, and his mother in that
of the St. Kenelms, where she vows she will remain until she
“dies dead.”
Captain Robert Conrad is still at the head of his rangers,
now inthe service.of his country. Rumor has it that, dur-
ing tue Coming winter, he is to lead to the altar the bright-
eyed Octavia, and there consummate the vows made years
before in the valley of the Rio del los Pinos. May joy be with
them all,
Dakota Dan left our friends after he had seen them per-
manently located in the moré congenial climate of Colorado.
But, as regular as the autumn comes, the ‘‘ Triangle” visits the
St. Kenelms and their friends, and no one on earth is more
welcome.to their humble homes than the noble-hearted old
ranger,
THE END.
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