P e venth Ave, NV. ¥ 59 Se 9 79> N. ¥. Lost Opceey STREET & €MITH MARCH 23, 1907 at the class Matter read as Secona- Enter /EQr. y ton $2.50 per (a By subs Cents ive 9 YORK a aia ome __ A WEEKLY PUBLICATION DEVOTED TO BORDER HISTORY ae Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Avenue, Nuit, Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1g07, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. ae Beware of Wild West imitations of the Buffato Bill Stories. They « are about fictitious characters. The Buffalo Bill weekly is the only weekly containing the adventures of Buffalo Bill, (Col. W. F. Cody), who is known all over the world as the king of scouts. No. 306. NEW YORK, March 23, 1907. - . Price Five Cents. Buffalo Bill, the Desert Hotspur; OR, PIZEN JANE, OF CINNABAR. By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.” CHAPIER 1. THE VOICE FROM THE TREE, — tHapl. Buffalo Bill drew rein and looked round. He was in a narrow and lonely trail that ran close by the Cinnabar River. The country was gullied and cut by small cafions. Several hundred feet below him the river roared in its narrow, rock-bound bed. On the sloping sides of this cafion was a number of trees, some of them of large size; and trees of the same kind bordered the trail. _ The scout, having drawn rein, sat quite still in his saddle, listening. All he heard now was the roar of the. stream, the soughing of the wind in the trees, and the restless champing of his spirited horse. etlelp!’ It sounded again. ~ Once more Buffalo Bill stared round. The call seemed to have come out of the sky, or to have floated from the mist that rose above the tumbling water of the river. \ “Can my ears have fooled me?” was his thought. “Hello!” he called: ~ What is itr’ A faint mumbling seemed to come in.answer to this, but he could not locate the sound nor distinguish the words. He rode up and down the trail, looking over into the cafion and along its timbered slope. He let his eyes wander over the rocky hillsides oppo- site the cafion. “The wind is fooling me!’ was his Hacene Yet he was not satisfied to let it go at that. So he dismounted, tied his horse, and swung down the incline of the cafion for a number of yards, and there, reaching a shelf of tock, he bent over the river and listened. 7. Then he heard it again—a cry for ben. \ But this time it seemed to be above him, almost over his head ;*and it sounded so startlingly clear that he could have fancied that the lips that made it were at his elbow. “Yes,” he said, starting up and staring round. “Where are you? I-see no one.” 2 | THE BUFFALO ‘The call rose louder and clearer, so clear that it was. absolutely startling. Apparently, the. one making the cry had, for the first time, become. aware that the call for help had reached humaneats. Le “Here I am, ight here ! Help! I'm right here—in this tree!” Buffalo Bill rose to his ee and stared hard at the tree before him. It was within six yards of him, higher up toward the level where lay the trail; and the voice had seemed to come from the heart of it. Yet he could see no led in ache tree, It was a large, stubby oak, wide branching and low; its thick boughs extended along the cafion ale oe there a massy shade. - “Yes?” he said, jumping foward it. Where?” . The voice seemed now to’ gurgle, 2 and again the answer was indistinct. He climbed up to the tree, and welled round it, bedas no opening, “In the tree?” he asked. “Tn this tree?” _ He kicked on it and hammered on it with his euilas “Yes!” the voice now screamed, seeming to be right before him. “I’m—fast—in —- this — consarned — tree! Help! H-e-l-p! H-e-l-p!” “Yes? said the scout again, shouting the word, “How. did you get.in? And how can I reach you?’ “Tfell—in! Help! H-e- HPs H-e-l-p!” _/ Fell m? How? When well in, atthe. top, yon fool! H- -e-l-p!” : The voice had a aly quavering sound, fo keyed and singular. “Fell in from. the, top! Je The scout looked at the thick top: of the tree. “Well, this must.be investigated !” _ He began to climb the tree, using his lariat to: fa him, looping it round the tree and round his body, thus assisting himself materially in making the ascent. He climbed rapidly in this way, and was soon in the Help Ln H-e-l-p ! lower branches, _ The ‘voice continued to. a sometimes sounding loud and clear, and then almost falling, or seeming to fall, to shrill whispers. He fancied these changes were due to the wind that roared through the top of the tree, carrying the sound first one way and then another. In a very short time he was in - matted top of the oak, hanging over the cafion. Then, to his amazement, he saw before him a large hole, such as a bear might have used. The calls were coming from this hole. He looked into it. The hole was black as pitch, and he could : see nothing ; oe ah BILL , STORIES. but the words of the person down in it seemed now to be shot at him as if from the muzzle of a “gun. . a “Help! ab ceripty _o- -e-Lp! | Tm | in _ the _tree; an nd I 9 : ‘ \, es es— Yes, | heard you,’ She glanced down into the hole and shivered. “Now, if you'll permit me, I'll try to a you down to » the ground,” he said. “Oh, law, I-kin make that all right ; at deat t trouble me a little bit!” To show that it did not she swung down from the nest of branches, and then, grappling the tree as if she were a man, she slid down to the ground. | The scout followed her, and soon stood beside her ‘on | the shelving slope. OLEH BU BT ALO ‘Well, may I be switched if I was ever in sich a ree- “Now I’ Y) help you up to the trail,” he said. must be pretty well exhausted by this time, and—— “Lawk, I don’t need ‘no help!’ She began to scramble up to the trail. The scout accompanied her, assisting her as much as she would let him. And soon they stood together in the trail. CHAPTER {1 PIZEN JANE, OF CINNABAR. Having arrived at a position in the trail, Buffalo Bill looked more carefully at the woman rescued from her strange prison in the hollow oak overhanging the cafion of the river. The woman looked as intently at him, with black eyes that snapped and burned. She inspected him from top to toe, critically, as if trying to size him up and determine what character of man he was. Then a sudden fiery wrath blazed in her black eyes, her lips became pinched, and then opened in one of her. strange cackles. “I guess,’ she snapped, “that you’re the man that’s playin’ the fake Buffler Bill trick about here. And if ye air, then I dunno but I’d ruther been left in the tree than to have been helped by ye. Air you him, er ain’t ye?” Buffalo Bill could not repress a smile at her manner. “IT haven’t the pleasure of knowing who this fake Buffalo Bill is, but beg to assure you that I am the real Buffalo Bill,’ he said. “My name is Cody, as, perhaps, you have heard, and : _ She cackled again, scoffing at his declaration. “What’s the proof of it?” she demanded. “T shall not try to present any proof, other than my word,” “And if you’re the fake Buffler, yer word ain’t good furder’n a man could sling a steer by the tail. You ain’t the fake Buffler ?” “No, madam, I am not.” “Why do ye call me madam, and how’d ye know I ever was married, to desarve that title? Simply because I’m oldish and have lost my good looks? You don’t know me?” -““T haven’t the honor.” He touched his hat again. “Well, I’m Pizen Jane, frum Cinnabar. GO mer’ “T never had the honor to——” “Shucks! Don’t be so perlite. Perliteness is due, mebbe, to young girls with red cheeks and yaller hair, and eyes that keeps rollin’ at the men; but it don’t b’long in talkin’ to a woman like me, that’s seen Ne world, and had all her beauty knocked off her long ago.” 39 “T only meant—— ~ ’ Never heard BILL STORIES~ | 3 oe a <0 THE SUPFALO (BILE (STORIES. “Don’t mean, then, when speakin’ to me; jes’ speak yer thoughts. I know I’m homely, and my temper ain't any purtier than my face. I’m Pizen fane, of Cinnabar.” He smiled. “T’m very glad to aie you, and wish to assure you again that I am William Ee Cody, known to many as Buffalo Bill.” “Jes’ the same, I’m goin’ to watch ye!” “That’s kind of you.” “You mean to say by that it ain’t kind o’ me, after you yankin’ me outer that hole? Well, I thank you fer that. Where you goin’?”’ : “T was on my way from Cinnabar.” “Yisterday I was, too; but I got stuck in that hole, and that brought my journeyin’ to a close. you're goin’ on, I’ll go with ye. You've got a hoss there.” “A very good animal.” “Glad of it; fer I’m goin’ to ride behind ye on that hoss. I don’t reckon you've got anything to eat?” es, : have food in my saddle-pouches. I will get it for you.” “Tm that hungry I could eat cleunke Fer) ye see, didn’t have any supper las’ night, an’ no breakfast this mornin’. If't wasn’t so fur, I’d git down to ne river and git me a drink.” “T have a water- Sorte: which you're welcome to.” “Law suz, you're a reg’lar travelin’ hotel! Well, [m glad of it; fer ’'m that hungry and dry that 1 can’t think straight. When IT git somethin’ to eat and drink, I'll try to see if my hat is on straight, and if my clothes sets right. Shouldn’t wonder if they don’t, sense my ex- petience in that tree.”’ She continued to talk while he procured.the food and the water; and then she sat down on the ground and devoured the things he gave her. While doing it she now and then looked at him, with covert glances, and now and then she mumbled, as if talking to herself. The scout was undeniably puzzled by this woman, In his experience on the border he had encountered many strange characters. Sometimes he had found that their eccentricity was assumed as a mask and covered some. hidden design, or concealed a scoundrelly and criminal past. Ina few cases he had found that an assumed ec- centricity concealed an officer of the law, who was masked in that way for detective-work. After brushing the crumbs out of her lap in a oe ful manner, she looked tp. “Was you tellin’ me the truth when you said you was the ginuine Buffalo Bill?” “Nothing but the truth,” he answered. Her face still showed doubt. “Lemme ask ye another question er two.” “As many as you like.” Y reckon, if- “Did you ever hear of a wu'thless critter named Pete a Sanborn ?” “T never did.” “He used to run a little hash-house down at Cee only he was too lazy to run it, and his wife done the work. He liked to gamble better than he did to, work, and he’d ruther pick a man’s pockets than to git money ° ° 99 in any other way. “A fellow to keep away from,” “Well, he was. I knowed him to my sorrow. He’s done things lately a good deal wuss’n any of them things. I hope vigilantes will git him, and finish him.” | Her blackened and straggling teeth came oe wih a vindictive click. “And you never,’ she went on, “heerd ofa young fel- ler called Pool Clayton? His reg’lar name was Powell; — but he played pool and billiards so much that the fellers got to callin’ him Pool; and I reckon it fit him, fer the name stuck. He’s a young man, not much more’n a boy, and I think he knowed you!” The final sentence she shot at the sou as if it were an accusation. Fi \ “T never PRR GS to re him, so far as my knowl- edge goes.” “He’s a young man, and ruther good-lookin’; more weak than really mean, I should say; and goin’ to the _. dogs fast, last accounts I had of him.” “T never heard ef him.” She brushed her lap again, as if there were more crumbs in it, and looked down, as if taking time to gather her thoughts, or think of more questions. Finally she arose. — “Now, if you don’t *bject, I’d like fer ye to give me a lift on yer hoss, if he'll kerry double. It’s askin’ a good deal, I know, but Fas “T shall be happy to let you ride on my horse, and [ will walk; or you may mount behind my saddle, if that - pleases you.” She laughed then, crackling out in the manner that had first attracted him. It was not musical, nor even sug- gestive of good humor, though the woman apparently meant that it should suggest the last. sé “Tm Pizen Jane, of Cinnabar,” she said again, “and I hope you won't rue the day when you fu’st met me. You won't, if you’re straight. But if you’re not reely Buffler Bill, but the fake that mebbe ye air, you'll not think meetin’ me was good fer yer health.” Then she seemed to feel that this was harsh, when the things he had done for her were considered. “T reckon I’d ought to beg yer pardon,” gétically. she said apolo- “Tf I say things you don’t like, fergit ’em.- ’m ~Joose-jawed, and my tongue wags sometimes like a splin- ter in a wind-storm. But if you understood the things that’s made me what I am, you wouldn't think it a mite strange if I was tryin’ to shoot yer head off, instead THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. | 5 of talkin’ ca’m to you. You desarve it, if the things I -heerd about ye air true.” : “I hope to merit your good opinion,” said the scout, _ much amused by the freedom with which she “wagged” her tongue. “You'll git it, if ye desarve it; and if ye don’t desarve it, then you'll git what you do desarve; and don’t you fail to recklect that! “It seems a strange name,” horse. Piven lane 2 Ves : “Well, I’m Pizen, to some people, ‘cause I stand fer my rights and don’t let nobody tromp on me. I’m Pizen to men who don’t do right, you bet! And PH tell ye now, what mebbe I’d ought to keep to myself, that I’m on the war-path, and that I’m standin’ ready to shoot full of holes a certain man as soon as I meet him. Rejoice that you ain’t him.” he said, bringing up his She cackled again. “You don’t seem so very warlike,” said the scout, sm1- ling at her. “I don’t mind telling you that.” “That's a compliment, I s’pose? Well, I don’t desarve it.) She looked the hone over critically. “Air you goin’ right ¢ on through the mountains >” eves” “Tt’s nigh two days’ journey!” vves. loknow at.” | “And this trail is filled with road-agents, they say; road-agents that lay fer everything that comes along, and shoots men as if they wasn’t more than wolves.” “Yes, it’s a dangerous trail.” “What if you’re held up?” “T shall defend myself; but I’m trusting not to be.” “I reckon I can trust ye; and if I can’t trust ye L can. watch ye. back.” Again she uttered that laughing, mirthless cackle. The scout held the horse by the head, and with an agility that was surprising, disdaining his aid, she put a foot in the stirrup and mounted to the animal’s back, seating herself behind the saddle.. Hold the hoss’ head, and I'll sail up to his “T’m spryer’n I look,” she said, “otherwise I couldn’t got into that tree where ye found me. Now, if you Il mount, we'll jog along, and you can tell me more about yerself while we’re goin’. I’ll say to you that Pizen Jane, of Cinnabar, is searchin’ fer somebody she hopes to find; and if she finds him, interestin’ times air billed to foller fer all concerned. That’s why I’m on this trail; what you ‘re on it fur ain’t eppeatcd yit, so fur as I _ know.” Buffalo Bill mounted, smiling at the woman’s naive manner of ae to “pump” him, Fer I’m Pizen Jane, of Cinnabar.” . ie they jogged, on, as quaint a pair as the trail had seen in many a day. Pizen Jane’s tongue was running like a windmill. CHAPTER HI. CHASED BY WOLVES. Because of the intense midsummer heat in that desert region, Buffalo Bill did not journey far that morning, but telieved his horse of its double burden long before noon, and took shelter from the burning sun in the shady depths of the cafion, at a point where its sides were scalable for man and beast. Pizen Jane seemed impervious to the heat, and declared her anxiety to go on. But she descended into the cafion, and there helped the scout eat the food which remained after her famine-feast of the morning. Throughoutthe journey, and now, as she and the scout rested, she asked strange questions without number, all tending to show that she still did not believe he was the man he represented himself to be. What her own intentions and plans were she cloaked with much cleverness, though she talked all round the subject, drowning it in’a very sea of words. Buffalo Bill gained the idea, however, that she had suffered some wrong, at the hands of some man, or men, or that some bitter grief and disappointment had come to her; for the avenging, or righting, of which she had set forth alone on this dangerous trail. . In addition, it seemed that she suspected him of being in some manner concerned in the wrong done her; and that she had proofs of it she more than once hinted. “T begin to fear you are crazy, madam,” he said, at length, when she had vexed him with her many hints of personal wrong-doing. “But please remember that I never met you before, and know absolutely nothing of any of the men you so veiledly speak of. I might know more, if you would be more open in what you say.” — “And then you'd know too much, if you ain’t the reel Buffler!’’ she cackled. “Pizen Jane may be’ homely- lookin’, and no doubt she is, but she ain’t no fool.” They did not go on until the cool shadows of eve- ning covered the. trail. They continued the journey far into the night, going forward by the light of the moon. The hour was late, when Pizen Jane gave a convulsive leap, and threw her arms round the scout’s body, with a quick motion. “Did ye hear that?” she asked breathless. The scout drew rein, “T heard nothing,” “There it is agin! And they’re answering each other, I'll listen atc 1) Wolves, as I’m a mortal sinner! be bound. Jes’ THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. a 6 The scout could not fail to hear them now, for their © “Buffler,” Pizen Jane cackled, “I know you're enj'yin’ howls swept out in a wild chorus. : 2 my society, even if the wolves is chasin’ us!” es “Wolves?” she said. e “T should feel better if you were not here,” he an- Yes. a 7 e swered. quite frankly. “Comin’ this way?” . “Why, Buffler ?”’ “T don’t know, I’m sure.’ a. “Because of the wolves. You have no need to ask.” | But she observed that he touched up the horse with ‘He fired at another. the spur. ~ «It fell with a yelp, being only wounded; but immedi- The-wolves were in two bands, apparently; one band ately its ferocious comrades sprang on it, tearing it to on the mountainside, off on the left, and the other be- pieces almost instantly, being rendered savage beyond hind, in the trail, or in the river cafion. Those on the hill- belief by the scent of its flowing blood. side were nearest, and their howls soon became frightfy. | Even the bold scout shuddered as he- saw that. He “Chasin’ us?” she asked. had seen its like more than once, yet it never failed to “We'll hope not.” impress him with a sense of the awful ferocity of wolves “Well, I know they air! Ye can’t fool me. I’ve had | when maddened in that way, and of his terrible peril. experience. This ain't the fu’st time I’ve heerd ’em.” He knew that if his horse fell, or if either of the riders She put her hand into her bosom and drew out a re- should be thrown to the ground, a ore death could volver. only result. “This ain’t big as to kill many. wolves with,” “Buffler,’ said Pizen Jane at length, as he brought she remarked; “but it’s big enough to kill me, which it'll / down another wolf, thus feeding it to its comrades, “I do if the wolves should seem about to git me. I’d ruther know this trail, havin’ been over it before, and you don’t die by a bullet than to have them critters tear me into know it; but there’s a ford right ahead, where the trail giblets. Ugh! Hear ’em yellin’!” s dips down and then crosses the river. If you can reach It was not a pleasant sound, and again the scout that ford, you can git in the water there and make a touched the horse up with the spur. stand agin’ ‘em wu'th while. They'll git us, otherwise.” The country lay more open before him, of which he She did not emit that cackling laugh now; in fact, she was glad. The moonlight and open country lessened the had begun to appreciate her horrible danger, and was danger from the wolves; for, like all evil creatures, they speculating as to its outcome. loved the darkness rather than the light. “Thank Heaven for that!” said the scout. “Perhaps J The horse was now flying along, oblivious of its double can hold them off until the ford is reached.” burden. : .... He had fired:every cartridge out of his revolver, and It not only heard the wolves, but had scented them, now drew another. and was frightened. “Can you reload this one?” -he said, passing it back to The howling drew nearer, and soon the wolves, sweep- her, with some cartridges. ing down from the hills, were seen running along the ee Sos es, she said; ‘“‘and shoot it, too! trail just behind the fugitives, and off on the deft, beyond Re eee She proceeded to show that she could, by bringing dor lf that tried to 1 the horse, cl They grew constantly bolder and bolder; so that soon bones i : Ce the rec} the h Ce es The claws of the wolf struck through the thick hide of the horse just as she fired, and, contracting in a death- clutch, they raked the skin open, so that blood flowed. The horse gave a jump that came nigh hurling Pizen Jane to the ground. \ “ They seemed to recognize the helplessness of the fugi- _ tives, pitted against so many; for the wolf gains courage from numbers, and is boldest when in big packs. Soon the wolves became $0 reckless that they dashed into the trail, partly surrounding the horse. Then they began to leap at its nose, and sought to strike their teeth into its legs for the purpose of hamstringing it, after the manner in which they were accustomed to bring down deer and other game. The scout shot one that sprang at the horse’s head; and then dropped another that had leaped to the horse’s But she threw her arms round the scout and held on like grim death. A dozen wolves had leaped on the one she shot, and were rending and devouring it; but others came on, more frantically determined than ever to pull down the horse, now that they scented the hot blood which streamed from haunches. its flank. “Downed ’em, ye did!” cried Pizen Jane. “Good for Buffalo Bill brought down one of the De ee syou! 1t makes me most love ye Buffler, to see you drop and Pizen Jane another. ’em like that.” . os Though the living ones stopped to rend the dead and Then she sounded her strange jae . dying, the delay was brief enough. THE BUFFALO Vet it enabled the oo. peed horse.to gain on its fiendish foes. “The ford's ‘jist ahead. of, ye now!” screamed in the ear of Buffalo Bill. In another minute he saw before him the darkly flow- ing waters of the river, which had emerged from ‘its cafion bed and here flowed through a quiet landscape. Buffalo Bill spurred the frantic and terrified horse into the river until the water came up over the girth. - “Drew up your feet,” he said to Pizen Jane. “T ain’t neither sugar ner salt, to be melted away by a little water,’ she declared; “and I dunno but I could swim if I was driv to it; so don’t worry about me.° Jist so. we git out o' reach o’ them screechin’ varmints,. is all Taek.” - The pursuing and tafunited wolves ey up to the edge of the water. Buffalo Bill turned in the saddle and dropped one of them by a well-directed shot, and then wounded an- other, The ferocious survivors began to tear at the fallen ‘wolves as soon as they were down, so that within a few minutes ee was left of them but shining, dislocated bones. The sight. was nek to make the scout and the woman shudder. Buffalo Bil urged the tome still farther out into the river, until the water stood midway of its sides. The wolves on the shore seemed, within a few minutes, to number scores, and even hundreds. _Their snapping teeth, fiery eyes, and struggling move- ments, made the shore a writhing mass of fiendish forms. Some of them dashed into the water and began to swim out to’ the horse. But they were at a disadvantage in the water; for they could not there make the tremendous leaps that would carry them to the horse’s back, nor could they move quickly enough to baffle the revolver-fire of the scout and Pizen Jane. Pizen Jane was reloading and firing the revolver the scout had given her, with a coolness and courage that would have befitted a man. ' Between them they succeeded in ce every wolf that swam. close to the horse. The dark bodies of dead wolves bobbed in the stream below the ford, where there were some eddies, that, catching them, whirled them slowly round and round. But the fate of the wolves already slain had small deterrent effect on those still living, and their numbers seemed inexhaustible. Where they came from could hardly be told; they seemed to spring out of the very ground; and they ran snapping and yelping along the banks, on both sides of the river now, while at intervals a few of the most desperate plunged in and tried to reach the horse and its riders, CUPS SRN UU pe Meh oases EA Pizen Jane BILL STORIES; 7 _ Generous as his supply of ammunition was, Buffalo Bill began to fear it would soon be exhausted. : But while the wolves still raved on the shores of ‘the moonlit river, and dashed into the water in efforts to reach the horse, a wild scream was heard near-by, which had on them a marvelous effect. It was the scream of a panther. The big beast had scented the flowing blood, and doubtless had come for a feast. The leaping forms of the wolves dropped out of sight with almost startling suddenness, as the lithe body of the panther came down the hillside with springing leaps. - “Glory be!’ cried Pizen Jane, with an almost hysterical cackle. ‘The painter has druv ’em off.” — melas “painter, ” as. she called the panther, came on to- ward the river, not at first. seeing . the horse midway of the stream. In another moment it would have been cracking the bones of the dead wolves, if the horse had not been startled by its coming and began to plunge in the water, making a good deal of noise. The panther stopped, throwing up its head and looking down at the horse, It was startled, and seemed too surprised for a mo- ment to move. Then,, with a quick leap, it turned aside: and in another instant it, too, was lost to sight in the darkness. “Glory be!” Pizen Jane mumbled. Buffalo Bill saw now that she was trembling, as if her nerves were exhausted. © Ae) he asked. Before she could answer, the sharp. report of a re- volver, or rifle, sounded. oe ee It was some distance away; yet the stillness which had followed the cessation of the wolf-attack made it pos- sible for sounds to carry a long. distance. “Shall we ride out now?” Following the first shot came some others in quick s suc- cession. “Some other pore aitier aeacted by them varmints! Pizen Jane ea UY es. | “I hope they don’t git ie if he’s honest and hon’ fable; I hope he’s nigh to the water, and can git into it, as we cdg The scout was listening for a repetition of the shots. “T hope a Painter will come ‘long to his. ’sistance, as it did to ours.’ The shots did not sound again. “They've killed him,-er he’s druv ‘em away, er mebbe the painter skeered ’em, I’m swearin’ by painters, frum . this on!” Pizen Jane’s tongue would wag, no matter what te {?? “pened. “Tf I thought we eoae aid him, and he needed aid now, I'd try.to go to his help,” said the generous scout. 8. a THE BUFFALO “But we don’t know, where ! he is!’ “He’s out in that direction, somewhere.” : ‘And he may be a road-agent, er even an. Injun. likely: to be, than an honest man.’ a oe “Very true; yet I shouldn't want any . human ane. to be torn alive by wolves.” _ Peace “It'd. serve some-.of “em right,” ee Dias Jane, with a grimness that was not pleasant. “Some on ‘em that I know of, and am lookin’ fer, ought to be chopped into giblets. the crime of murder, when I meet *em.’ When the shots did not come again, and pias oc- curred to indicate who the man was, or what had hap- pened to him, the scout abandoned his desire to go to his ade oo Oe He feared the return of the wolves; and so he kept his horse in the stream, though the beast was soon shaking from the: chill of the cold water. “Tt’s a tarnal queer thing, Buffler, ther way that animiles do,” averred the woman, dropping into a mood of philos- ophy. ‘The wolves warn't afeared of us, even when we laid em out on the shore like chopped corn, though they was skeered o’ that painter; and the painter that wasn’t afeared of the wolves, was afeared of us. that queer there’s no knowin’ what to expect of ’em.” More For nearly an hour the scout kept his shivering horse — in the stream; but when it was seen that the wolves were not likely to return soon he rode out of the water. On the shore he went into camp, and. there he built a fire. The fire would help to keep the wolves at bay: and also it was needed to enable him and Pizen Jane to dry their wet clothing. | He screened the fire as well as he could yet he knew it might be seen; and he was in a land where he could expect to meet enemies in human shape as terrible as the wolves and as little given to mercy. To guard. against surprise, he for a time stood in the darkness beyond the rim of the firelight, watching there, while the woman by the fire dried and warmed herself. Far away he heard wolves howling; and they may have been some of those who had pursued him. / But the man who had fired the shots did not oe himself known. The stars and the moon ae their slow way west- ward, and the night grew late. At last the scout returned to the fire, fed it with wood, and sat down. Pizen Jane had fallen asleep. but ihe return Beek oe her, and she sat up. “Buffler,’” she said, smoothing back her tangled hair, “what air ye goin’ to do now?” “In what way?” he asked. “Why, to-morrer ?” “7 hardly know.” » Well, I know you’re lookin’ fer road- od -If the wolves. should ale jem, ita save mic country where a woman can feel safe.” Varmints air - BILL STORIES. he de “You seem. to think you are a mind- rade clared, with.a laugh. | Tam. 1 kin fod. yer mind same’ s my own.’ “What am I thinking of 2” oe . “That you wish Pizen Jane was in 1 purgatory, er, some éther furrin country!” ; He laughed again, and she laughed with him. “Hardly that, of course.’ “You're wishin’ I wasn’t with yout oe ! “Vour society is very pleasant,” was his gallant state- ment; “but you will admit that this is ey the sort of “And that’s why I’m goin’ to hang 40 ye. You can't git rid of me. Ill cling to ye like the bark on a. tree, and you can’t help it. Ber ye see, you're huntin’ road- agents, and so am J. And if you find ’em, and I’m with ye, why, ’ll find ’em, too. And that’s what I want. a He smiled into the firelight. “T thought you were of the opinion that I was a fake, _and you meant to cling to me for the purpose of finding out?” : “Well, that is one reason,’ she admitted, with bltnt frankness. “If you ain’t the real Buffler Bill, why, I want to know that, 1 And then I'll be makin’ things mighty iieestin®: feriye., She laughed again, sliding from her stern grimness and threatening into laughing good humor. “T’'ll watch a while, if ye want to sleep,” she said. vive pad my a winks, and can git along now till morning.” ~ y The scout felt sure that he could trust this woman not to harm him in his sleep. She still mystified him, and he could not yet fathom her purpose in being there; for he did not credit her with all the motives she pote ed. After a while he lay down for atime, leaving Pizen Jane on guard by the dying camp-fire. _ The horse was picketed on its lariat a few ees away, and was certain to give an alarm if wolves or other wild animals approached. ; CHAPTER IV. A STARTLING DISCOVERY. | In ae morning Buffalo Bill shot a jack: rabbit, and ie breakfasted on that. Bones of wolves on the opposite a gave Laie ~ of the terrible night battle with those creatures. ‘Eo. the woman it seemed almost a horrible re and not a reality, with the sun now shining brightly, and not -a wolf, or other harmful beast, in sight. 99 ~“T feel as good as new, she said, in her. queer ways “only a bit stiff in the j/ints.” She walked along the river Toe exercise, a — = iim insispelii enc PS TERA BU FFALO “Now wie ye goin’ to do?’”’ she eee, coming hack, while the scout watered his horse at the stream. Pm going first to the point where those shots sounded in the night.” “D’ye reckon ye can find it?” “T hope so. I located the direction pretty accurately.” “But you couldn’t tell how fur they was off.” “No; but if we get the direction and keep going we'll come to the place, by and by.” “Yes; that’s so, too. “I spose you’re wishin’ I’d go back to the town this mornin’?” “Not since you said you didn’t intend to.” He smiled at her. She interested him, and he was still studying her, trying to determine her character and what she really meant by thus clinging to him. “Well, I’m goin’ to hang to ye; and if you should say T couldn’t, I’d go anyhow. I think I’m takin’ a fancy to yer. If 1 was a younger woman now!” | “What? “ad think Pd try to marry ye; if I found out you was what ye pretend to be, and honest.” — “You flatter me,” he said, with a smile. 7P eo 1? Well, £ dont mean it,” ” “Te helped ter to the back ‘oi his’ horse, tenes she said she needed no assistance ; and they rode on again, going now in the direction: of those mysterious shots. ~ They had progressed a mile before Buffalo Bill found what he was looking , for—indications of the presence of men. -Hoofprints of horses showed, and the tracks of men, a considerable body of them. ; But the tracks were nearly a day old, and could none of them have been made by the man who fired the shots. “There was, too, the ashes of an old camp-fire. he did. “Ah!” he said, as he looked about. “Some one came along after these men had left; and, finding this old camp “and the ashes, he built a new fire here; and that was last night; and, whoever he was, he did the oe e “At wolves?” \ Yes, 1 think so; that seems the most likely guess. Some of the wolves troubled him, and he shot at them.” He began to search beyond the limits of the camp, hoping to find wolf-tracks which would prove his theory. He stopped this search on observing a soil-stained let- ter. : It had been stepped on by a horse, whose hoofs. had driven it into the earth, half-covering it, He took it up and looked at it. To his astonishment, the address side of the envelope -bore the name of Nick Nomad. “Nomad!” he said, staring round as if he half-expected to see his old pard of the plains and mountains rise out of the ground there. “Nomad! He was here.” BILL Buffalo Bill inspected that among the first of the things STORIES. a : 7 He looked about; then took from the envelope the let- ter it held; for the envelope had already been torn open. It was rete a note, on some matter of business of no importance. “Nomad dropped it a chance. dropped it purposely.” He began to search the ground osely. “What ye found?” called Pizen Jane, who was ae hey No; perhaps he ing him. “A letter from an old friend.” “Funny kind of a post-office to be gittin’ letters out - of!’ she observed. The scout went on with his search. He found wolf-tracks out beyond the point where the ground had been torn by the hoofs of horses, thus es- tablishing his belief that the man who had camped alone there during the night had been troubled by the wolves, and had fired upon them. “IT wonder if that man could have been Nomad: ?’ was his thought. He dismissed it in a moment. : “No; Nomad is too wary to have gone on without in- specting my camp by the river; and, if he had inspected it, he would have discovered me and made: himself known.” He searched again at the point vitor the er had been trampled into the soil. | This examination convinced him that the horse that had stepped on the letter had been of the horses that were there two nights before. - “Whoever the man was who did the shooting he was not Nomad.” : After a ie he returned to where the woman had stood watching him. : : “What ye found?” she demanded. He showed her the letter. “Nick Nomad is an old friend of mine. We have hunted and trailed together more times than I can tell you; and he’s true as steel. “I thought at first he did that shooting. But I’m convinced he did not. A body of men camped here two nights ago; and at that time, or before that time, Nomad was here, and dropped this letter.” “Some other man might have had it and dropped it,” she said. : “Ye, that is so: ite “Road-agents, mebbe; he might have been robbed, and they may have tuck that letter” from him, with other things.” Somé other man might have dropped “You're good at guessing,” the scout admitted. “All of that may be true. I’m of the opinion the large party camping here two nights ago were road-agents.” “He might have jined em?>~ “Impossible. What I’m afraid of is that he was uh them as a prisoner.” Bes Me age ‘Delccighdd aca valle ‘er went na aaa 10 ; -THE BUFFALO “Glory be! Ye don’t mean it?” “He’s shrewd ; and if he was He prisoner he probably the fact, or “guess” oe He doubtless had 110 ae to write, or to drop anything else.” ee “Road-agents!” she said, looking about. oe “And now your question of what I am going to “do ie Tah going to follow the trail Of those road- answered. agents, even if it is two days’ old.” “And the man that camped here alone, and done | that cs shootin’ last night?” He may have been a road-agent, fol lowing on their trail; and, if so, he is now riding on to overtake Hos We can tell better about that as ‘we go on.” ( / DOE Wie may’ve been Ses follerim, dupes ‘same as IT am;and your” — “Very true.” The scout, though anxious now to go on as fast as pos- sible, did not give over the search of this camping-spot until he was sure there was ae unfound that could aid him. ““Mebbe he’s one o ite men I’m lookin’ fur,” said Pizen Jane, as she mounted to go on. “TI don’t reckon he is, though ; ’twould be too much good luck. Luck ain’t been rollin’ my way much lately.” She cackled in her shrill fashion, as if she thought she had said something funny. No single trail was observed to leave the main trail, as they went on. By and by the scout. became convinced that Nick Nomad was a prisoner of a gang of outlaws, though he had no solid proof on which to build this belief. lf it had not been for the fact that the letter had been _ trampled into the ground, showing by that that the horses had been there after it was dropped, he might have thought Nomad had struck the outlaws’ trail, and was following them. For he knew that Nick Nomad was in a tet country for the sole purpose of running down the road-agents and desperadoes that infested it—the same mission that had brought him there. Buffalo Bill talked of his beliefs and theories with Pizen Jane, for he discovered that she possessed a good fund of hard, common sense, and her judgments were at times valuable. She agreed with him, when he had scinea out the proofs, that Nick Nomad had not been following the big trail; and, if that were so, then that he had either been in advance of the outlaws, or he was with them. lf with them, nothing was surer than that old Nome was a prisoner. We ll follow this trail: ‘until we know ae truth: . said the scout. “Buffer,” she cackled, “I’m with sh Ye may think that is a joke, but ‘tain’t; fer I mean that I’m with ye ~~ in spirit, as well as otherwise. bimeby that Pizen Jane is a good deal-better than she BILL STORIES. And mebbe you'll allow. looks, and ‘has got more sénse than any man would ane if he vetged by ae ey her — Clack | CHAPTER We THE CAPTURE OF NICK NOMAD. There were some dramatic things eared oe the capture of old Nick Nomad by Snaky Pete’s band of road-agents and outlaws. The old trapper and mountain-man had received ed from his famous pard,. Buffalo Bill, informing him that the latter intended to go into the desert country that lay near the base of the Sepulchre Mountains, for the pur- pose, if possible, of breaking up the road-agent Greate: tion known to exist there. The mountains of the gruesome name deserved. the title of Sepulchre. . ‘They were barren and forbidding, and held so little water on their desert side that it was. as much as a man’s life was worth to get lost in them there, for he was pretty certain to die of thirst. Yet the Sepulchre Mountains held gold in paying quan- — tities, and that lure was drawing men from - quarters of the country. a Gold is such a magnet ina. no 5 matter ouee it is men will go to get it, even under the arctic circle} and 1 1: could be certainly known that gold is at the north pole, money would soon be found to equip expeditions of such. magnitude that the secret of even that hitherto unas- sailable poimt would quickly be laid bare. The miners and prospectors. who were Vaan in the Sepulchre Mountains, and in the adjacent desert, locally called Death Valley, had been shipping out a good deal of gold, by the stages, and in other ways; and on that gold road-agents had been levying heavy tolls. . Yet, knowing this, Nick Nomad had been unaccount- ably careless, after striking the trail leading into ie Sepulchre Mountains. ‘He fancied that the road-agents confined hee opera- tions rather exclusively to another trail, and to the other side of the mountains, and to the trails that crisscrossed” the desert. ‘ Hence, he did not adopt his usual precautions. ~ He went to sleep in the open, with a fire burning, curling himself up by it, and there enjoying his pipe in fancied security. Near-by grazed his horse, the famous old Nebuchad- nezzar; a horse whose apparent age and decrepitude had to be discounted, or the beholder would be much fooled in him; for, though it seemed that Nebuchadnezzar had about outlived his usefulness and could run no more than a turtle, the old beast was amazingly et and. also ama-- zingly intelligent. ‘ i ‘i fs) ea i ‘ Ps) Ha Ny i vs fi he ie YE Wy i » ‘ ~ could see well enough to shoot down the horse : through ye, ef ye shoot Nebby!” he yale So intelligent was he that old Nick Nomad felt as safe, with Nebuchadnezzar grazing close by, as if the horse had been a trained watch-dog sitting guard there. But even old Nebuchadnezzar grew sleepy after .a while, and lay down on the grass to rest. _ And being tired that day, for he had journeyed far, he slept quite as heavily as did his wearied master. So that, though his ears were keen, trampling hoofs were almost upon the camp before the fact was thudded by their hoofs into his dull ears, arousing him. Nebuchadnezzar lifted his head then, and squealed a warning, at the same time scrambling up and snorting in alarm. Nick Nomad opened his eyes, and bounded to his feet with the agility of a man many years younger. _ Ashe did so, he caught up his rifle, an ancient weapon, and swung it round. “Whoa, Nebby, consarn ye!” he srunted: up?” He knew on the te “Hands up!’ came to him out of the darkness, and he heard rifles clicking. Then he saw dimly the cote uy mounted men. He ducked with lightning quickness, sliding across the smoldering fire as he did so, trying thus to reach Nebu- chadnezzar. ‘He whistled at the same time in a shrill way, and the “What's knowing beast came running toward him, until stopped by the lariat. _ The horse reached the end of the lariat oath ajerk, and stood snorting. | “Whoa, Nebby!” In another minute Nick Nomad would have cut the lariat and been on the back of the old horse; but a rifle rang, and the bullet whistled past his face, making its wind felt, it was so close. Nomad stopped, then; not because he so much feared “for himself, as because he feared for the life of Nebuchad- NEZZAY:, 4 He knew that even in the darkness those riflemen ; he was sure they would do it if he tried to get away on its back; and Nebuchadnezzar was as dear to him as his own life. He faced round, swinging his heavy rifle. “By all ther spooks o’ ther hills, ef I don’t let daylight “Ware thar, and don’t do it!’ _ Aman was riding toward him, and at the man’s heels came others. “Hands up!” “And drap my gun? Waal, ye ae know me, if ye think T’ll do it. Waugh!” “Put down that gun!” Tie Boer ALO. “T'll do that, yes; and willin’, see ’t I can’t do nothin’. Bille S [OR TES: if else. But I shoot’s ther fust cuss thet lays a hand in harm on my ole hoss.” The man drew rein. Some of those behind him snickered at Nomad’s words. Whoairyer’ “Waugh! I’m a better man than ther critter that asks’ ther question!” “No foolishness! Hands up! And your name!” One of the man’s followers,) who had ridden near enough to see Nomad, now announced the old trapper’s name. “Nick Nomad,” he said; “ther friend of Buffler Bill! And may the devil roast him!” “Put down yer gun!” the leader miided The tone was so menacing that Nomad saw he must comply, if he didn’t want to feel the lead of the outlaw’s revolver. So he laid the old rifle on the ground, though he did it with a sigh. Then he folded his arms on his breast, and stood erect before the outlaws, an impressive figure, in spite of his small stature, weazened face, and his eccentric dress. He was a typical trapper of the old time, in appear- ance, with his fringed and greasy leggings, and hunting- shirt of cloth and deerskin, and the round beaver-skin cap on his head, the cap being as greasy and soiled as his clothing. ‘Now, what is it ye want of me?” he said; though the manner in which the announcement of his name had been received told him that these men were his enemies; and he was sure they were road-agents, the very desperadoes he had come there to seek with his old pard, Buffalo Bill. The men sprang from their saddles and surrounded him. Old Nebuchadnezzar backed from them to the end of his picket-rope, and snorted indignantly and fearfully. _NSAir you Nick Nomad, as he says?” demanded the leader, peering into the trapper’s face. Nomad fancied that lying would gain him nothing. ‘Happy ter say thet 1 aim," he declared. “I reckon it ain't a name ter be ashamed on, along this hyar border; seein’ thet Injuns and outlaws never yit liked ther sound or ite “Give up yer weapons.” “Thar’s my gun.” “But yer other weapons—yer knife and pistols.” “And then what?” the old man asked. ‘“Mebbe ye'll be wantin’ me ter give up my life next?” “Surrender yer weapons!” was shouted at him. Nomad was driven to the conviction that this sur- render meant his death. If he was to die, he preferred to do it in more heroic fashion than that. He sprang from the ground, as the outlaw leader bent toward him; and his foot, catching the man under the 12 : | ‘THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. : chin, fiirled him back against the men behind him, throw- ing them into sudden confusion. Nomad, the next instant, was leaping away. He did not run toward Nebuchadnezzar, preferring to take the chances of bullets alone, so strongly did he love his horse, Bullets followed, ee through the air round his head. The outlaws jumped in chase of him, yelling like In- - dians. Nomad stumped: as he thus leaped along, and fell to the ground. It was a good thing for him; for bullets swept through the air over the spot where he dropped, and some of them would have struck him if he had remained in an upright position. He was trying to rise, when one of the outlaws sprang on him, landing astride of his back, and almost knocking the breath out of him. This outlaw threw his arms round Nomad’s neck, and yelled for help; and, other outlaws piling on him at once, the old man was forced to submit. When he had been tied, and sat helpless on the grass, and the light of a hastily built camp-fire illuminated the scene, he stared quizzically into the face of the infuriated leader, who stood now before him, boiling with rage. “Tf old Nebby once puts his foot in yer face,’ said Nomad, “man, you'll know thet the little love-tap I handed ye wa’n’t jes’ nothin’ at all! And what would ye expect? Was I goin’ to stand still and let ye kill me? You’ve got me now; and so I cal’late I can’t help my- self.” ag Snaky Pete, for it was he, drew a knife. “T’m tempted to slice ye into mince-meat!” he gasped. “I wouldn't,’ said Nomad coolly; “fer I'll tell ye right now that I’m too old and tough ter make good mince- meat out of.” ‘The man turned round, fierce in his manner as an en- raged grizzly. ‘ “Where’s Pool Clayton?” he snarled. A young man, a mere stripling, stepped forth from. the vociferating crowd. Pivere the said, Nomad looked at him, by the light of the fire. He saw a youth of rather comely appearance, yet with a certain hardness of face that showed a desperate at- tempt at recklessness. “You've been braggin’ on yer nerve,” said Snaky Pete to the youth. ‘‘Hyer’s yer chance to show it!” Pool Clayton looked at his chief uneasily. “IT don’t think I understand you!’ he said. “Ne dower. “No. 99 “Well, hyer’s a chance to show yer nerve, and prove that you're one of us. You need hardenin’. We've got him go. this old fool; but we can’t keep him, and we can’t let Git your gun, and put a bullet through him, as he sets there. That'll finish him, as a warnin’ to others like him; and then we'll go on.” | The young man became as pale as if he had seen.a ghost. : _He looked about appealingly. “I-—I-—can’t do it!” he gasped. Snaky Pete glared at him. “You won't obey orders?” “Yes—I’m willing to obey orders, but——’ “Then, do what I tell ye!” roared the desperado ‘leader. “Git yer rifle, and put a bullet through this car- rion, and show you’re a man, with the nerve of a man.” Pool Clayton whitened still more, and trembled visibly. The outlaws pressed close about him, staring into his face, noting this sign of what they considered weakness and cowardice. Snaky Pete’s eyes glittered like the 265 of the basilisk, “Do ye hear me?” he yelled. Clayton half-turned about, as if he nals to oe then stopped. “I—I can’t do it!” he gasped. “Don’t ask me to.” Snaky Pete came closer to him, his huge fist doubled. “Do you obey orders?” he shouted. “Yes—but——” Crack ! Snaky Pete’s heavy fist shot out, and struck the youth full in the face, knocking him down. Clayton fell, clawing at the air; where he had fallen. The outlaw leader stepped toward him, as if he meant to administer a kick in addition to the blow. “You're the one that’s a tarnal coward!” old Nomad muttered. 1) never (seen a amano)’ that kind, (hat wasn’t.” a He was apparently the only calm person there; Be: it was his life that was threatened. Snaky Pete lifted his heavy boot to kick Clayton, tien repented of his intention. and then lay still “He'll coe one all He ain’t got the spirit of “Let him lay!” he snarled. right.. And we'll move on. a skunk.” The outlaws began to Bee their lame ready for mov- ing on, Snaky Pete walked up to his prisoner. He looked fairly fiendish in the flickering firelight. “Don’t git gay over this!” he growled. “You'll go over the range, in the morning, jist the same, That young skunk will come round bimeby and foller on, and then will be meek as a kitten, He'll finish you with that bullet, and be glad to, before we git through with him.” The sage old trapper did not answer this brutal speech, He had learned wisdom with his years _ eS SS BN ty Ni REIT IIRL RES Diages ; me. aS Ries THE BUPFALO BILL STORIES. _. When the desperadoes lifted him to the back of old Nebuchadnezzar the cords slipped from one of his wrists. He did mot try to take advantage of it, so far as attempting an escape was concerned; but in writhing round, as he struggled to straighten up on his horse, he contrived to drop from an inner pocket the letter which ’ Buttalo Bill found. The shrewd old trapper was sure that sonner or later the keen-eyed scout would hit that trail, and then would find that, letter. And he believed that if he could contrive to keep the breath of life in his body until Buffalo Bill was given time to do something, his chances of escape were yet good, : Hence, he resolved to do nothing to unduly anger this truculent outlaw chief and his men. oe “I kin be as humble as a creepin’ field-mouse, when I haf to,’ was his thought, “and meek and humble is my lay now; mayhe it'll pull me through.” __ When the outlaws went on they left Pool Clayton lying unconscious on the grass, his horse lariated and grazing close by him. CHAD RE RA * FOOL CLAYTON: When Pool Clayton came to himself, with the dark- ness about him, except where it was lightened by the dying camp-fire, he saw that he was alone—that he had been abandoned. His horse, grazing close by, tearing noisily at the grass, was the only thing of life near him. But he shuddered when he heard, afar off, the howl of wolves, “The men have left me!” he said. He staggered to his feet. There was caked blood on his face, and on his shirt, for that blow in the face had caused his nose to bleed freely. He was stiff and sore, and he felt dizzy and wretchedly - sick and ‘miserable. As full recollection came to him, his whole body burned with uncontrollable rage against Snaky Pete and the men who constituted his band of road-agent outlaws. Clayton glanced round, looked at is sky, and then at the nearly extinct fire. “They've been gone some time,” he said. left me out here, thinking maybe the wolves would get 39 Then he swore violently, raging against Snaky Pete. He loaded Snaky Pete with opprobrious names and noisy abuse, “And have - By and by he became saner and cooler, though his new hatred of Snaky Pete did not abate. 13 He lighted a torch of grass at the fire, and looked for the trail of the outlaws, finding it soon. “Gone on,” he said; “and they'll camp about morning at the Poplar Bluffs.” i He knew the place, and was sure he could find the outlaws in camp there; but he did not know whether to. follow them. or not. : In his searching, he expected to come upon the body of the old trapper, being fully persuaded that Snaky Pete meant his death. | ‘They'll shoot him, and leave him by the trail for the wolves to eat,” he said. “Maybe that’s what the wolves are howling over now.” He shuddered, as when Snaky Pete commanded him to shoot the old man, “T couldn’t do that!’ was his thought. “I couldn’t » Ado iti He stirred the fire into new life, for its light drove away a certain lonely feeling that troubfed him, And’ he began to think of what he should now do. “T was a fool for ever joinin’ em,” he assured himself, . groaning over the memory of Snaky Pete’s brutal blow. “He'll kill me, ebb, if I foller ’°em; and the boys will make sport of me.’ He was beginning to realize that he was not, after all, cut from the same cleth as these outlaws. He had been wild in the town, had gambled, and got into bad company; and, being tempted one night, he had gone with an acquaintance and joined Snaky Pete’s band’ of road-agents; being assured by his new friend—one of Snaky Pete’s men—that the life led by this band was one long and gay carouse, with plenty of fun—alto- gether a desirable life for a young man of courage and spirit; who felt the chafing restraint of law and order. Pool Clayton had been with the band less than a week, and was finding the life anything but what he had pic- tured it. _ The men were rougher and coarser, and more brutal, - than he had imagined; and altogether the delightful stir and excitement had not been what he anticipated. Snaky Pete, whom he knew only too well, had been cruelly harsh, and had told him he was a coward and a milksop, and needed “hardening.” Already there had been several attempts to “harden” him: that is, to brutalize him; from which he had shrunk. This last attempt, however, had gone beyond anything he had dreamed of; when he was ordered to kill a man in cold blood, just as if that man were no more than a wolf. Pool Clayton had not been able to doit; and this was the result—struck senseless to the ground, and aban- doned on the lonely prairie. _ “Mebbe I’d better go back to the town,” he said; “I ain’t fit for this.” But back in the town officers were watching for him THE BUPPAEO ee for some small offense against the laws; doned the thought of doing that when he recalled the fact. There seemed nothing he could do except follow the outlaws and rejoin them. ‘He believed that long before he could overtake them the old trapper would be murdered and put out of the way, and that murder, at least, would not be forced on him. “T s’pose I can bear the boys chaffing and joking me,” “And I reckon I do need hardening, if I’m u oe I ama he mused. to keep with ’em, and lead this life. sort of milksop and weak.” Yet he could not feel right toward Snaky Pele A feeling that was murderous burned in his very soul . against the brutal outlaw leader. “That he should treat me that way—me !_when he’d 5 I wouldn’t joined ’em, but and now ought to be my best friend! fer the fact that I learned he was the leader ; 7 to have him treat me that way! After a while, when he felt better and stronger, he © rose from the fire, and got his horse. Then he mounted, and rode away in the directiqn of Poplar Bluffs, the camping-place of which he knew. _ His evil tendencies, and evil surroundings and_ past, had conquered again; he meant to rejoin the road- - agents, and “face the music,’ whatever it might be. and he aban- : the chief. BILL STORIES, at once, that Molloy was us here, in the absence of “Where have they gone?” he asked, ignoring Molloy’ s words, — ‘ “Gone to rake in another prisoner fer you to shoot!” was the brutal answer. One of the outlaws “ha-hahed” at this, his sympathies being against Clayton. “And as the other one is here yit, you'll have two to shoot, soon’s the boss gits back.’’ Clayton did not answer, but slid out of his saddle. “The boss said that if you did come back you’d: got to do what he ordered ye to, er he’d sure shoot you!’ Molloy added. Clayton picketed his horse, and returned to where te outlaws wefe grouped. At one side lay the prisoner, old Nick Nomad; and Nomad’s horse was with the other horses, grazing by the stream. - “You heard what I said?” snapped Molloy. “Yes, I heard what you said.” Clayton felt and looked confused. His cheeks burned hot again, and he knew he was trembling a little. _ «Yet he tried to hide this indication of weakness. Some of the men greeted ny aS coldly and rather surlily, | He saw that he had fallen in their estimation. It was a rule of the band that whatever the “boss” ordered had to be done, and no questions asked. Clayton had re- _ fused to obey orders, and that made him a marked man. CHAPTER: VIl. TOM MOLLOY. Pool Clayton reached Poplar Bluffs. an isolated point on the river, at the foot. of a spur of the Sepulchre Mountains, after daylight, but he did not at once ven- ture into the camp. : He could not summon\ up enough courage until he saw a number of outlaws ride away from the camp, and. guessed that one of them was Snaky Pete. When he entered the camp he found but few of the outlaws there, and those few seemed to-be under com- | mand of a young fellow not much older than himself. This young fellow was a weasel-eyed, rat-faced youth, named Tom Molloy, as desperate a character for his years as one could wish to see. ~ Moreover, Molloy had no love for Pool Clayton. He had a feeling that Clayton thought himself the bet- ter of the two, and it had aroused his dislike and enmity. “So you've come sneakin’ in, have ye?” he sneered, his little eyes gleaming with vindictive animosity. “I shouldn’t think you would, after that!” Pool Clayton’s face flushed to a deep red, then paled. He had expected to receive the jeers of the outlaws, but it did not please him to have this young fellow begin the thing. Nor did it please him to discover, as he did . “If you heard what I said, why don’t you answer?’ Molloy demanded, - | “Acdont have to,” Clayton flared. shaken by growing anger. — Molloy fare a hairy, red fist and stepped in front of him.. 1 Vou dont, hey? al reckon you know I’m commander here now?” a 1 Ves Clayton eyed that hairy and threatening fist.. “Then speak with respect to me. Do you understand thdtr Youve got to speak with respect to me, or I'll hammer your face in ag’in,’ “Tt wasn’t you did it.” you think | cant, ear) He shook his hairy, red fist under Clayton’s nose. Clayton hesitated, and looked about uneasily. He knew that since his refusal of the night he was looked on as a coward by these men. Molloy was bullying him because of that. Molloy was himself the coward, and Clayton felt it. Let ae hesitated, merely pushing the red fist away | when it was thrust so close that it touched_ are tip of his nose. & . tense tone. We a en et et a VA rca ra *, THE BUFFALO BILL “Don’t do that!” he protested mildly ;. so: mildly- that olloy was only encouraged to continue his bullying. “Pm not to, eh?” said Molloy; pushing His ‘fist once ‘more against Clayton’s nose, this time a stich oe was almosta blow?) - “ tell you, not to do ae again” said | Clayton, his one ‘rising. “And what will you do? Hey yee coward, what will you do? V’m in. command here, ain’t 1?”- at nase t ee you ain t, butt tell you not to do that again.” Some of the men rose, interesting to them. — “Give it to him, Molloy!” one of them sang out. “Molloy pushed his fist against Clayton’s nose, this time so strongly that it brought blood, for Clayton’s nose was still sensitive and ready to bleed at a touch. The dripping of blood down on his shirt caused Clay- ton to turn white as a sheet; his eyes glittered with a sort of hot light, and he clenched his fists. Do “You're. a bully and a coward,” he said, in a low, “And if you think I’m afraid of you, or | afraid to fight you, you're mistaken.” | He stepped back, and began slowiy. to take off his coat. His head was roaring in a queer way, and flecks of _ red seemed to shoot and dart before his eyes. | grinning ; this was becoming | The men gathered round, forming a ring, with the | youths in the middle. Po Sue, aim, Molloy ! !’ said the one who hha chipped ) in before. | Molloy could hardly believe his eyes, when he saw |, that Clayton was coolly preparing to. fight him. — | He sprang at him, but one of the men caught and held him. gee e “Meet him fair,” he was adjured; “meet him fair!’ » | “Oh, I'll meet him fair!” Molloy snarled, really amazed ) by the discovery that he would have to fight; “and I’ll A hammer him to a pulp.” i He shook himself free of the man’s hands, and began i to take off his own coat and roll up his sleeves. His arms were big and red, covered with — and | unpleasant-looking. Clayton’s arms, as he bared them, were white as a girl’s, above the tan circles of his wrists; but, white as they were, they: looked firm, and hard, and muscular. ‘His face, too Pas did not show fear now, nor | cowardice. | “Now, I’m ready for you!” he said quietly. | “And heré you git it!’ howled Molloy, his «anger } flaming red in his freckled face. “Look ode for I’m | coming !” | He: leaped, and swung, thinking to Hino Clayton ( down at a blow. ‘didn’t know what had happened to him. STORIES. - To his surprise, Clayton. side-stepped and dodged, so that the blow, meant for. his face, went . over. his head. VThen—crack ! Clayton’s hard, white fist fell full on thefreckled face of the bully, and Molloy tumbled backward, and. would have fallen if. one of the outlaws had not caught him. Molloy. was. dazed by that blow ; but he saw that if he did not-now whip Clayton he vould lose his standing with these men. A Clayton was standing quite still, his bosom heaving, his eyes glittering, and his face still pale; he had his hands up, ready for defense. When Molloy came again, his blow missed, and so did Clayton’s; and then they locked in a fierce grapple, each striving to throw the other. The men stood about, clapping their hands and urging on the. fighting. This was to them as good as a circus. “Slug him, Molloy.!?.. “Stand up to him, Pool!” “Hook him under the jaw!” » ‘Gave inthis lace!” Such were the commands en as the men hopped about in their excitement. The combatants came to the ground together, Ciiven . underneath... Molloy had his arms .round Clayton, and now tried to push his head against the ground, and at the same -time batter him in the face., om In the opinion of the watching men, Pool Clayton was as good as whipped. ‘ But with a mighty effort he twisted round, half-ri- sing; and then, catching. Molloy ‘about the waist and shoulders, he lifted the young bully, and threw him through the air. Molloy fell on his head and shoulders, a crashing fall, and lay still, after sliding ott on the ground in a limp heap. : The thing was done so quickly, and was such a sur- prise, that the men stood in breathless silence, staring. Then one of them came up to Clayton, and offered his hand, which Clayton took. “I didn’t think ye’d do it, Pool,’ he confessed. “But you're a game rooster, after all; and here’s my hand on’t!’” Molloy groaned, writhed about, and then came slowly to a sitting position, dabbing at his face weakly with his hands, and fluttering his eyelids. For a minute “he Then he saw the grinning faces about him, and Pool Clayton standing, white-faced, and with arms folded, near-by. At sight of that face, evoking recollections of what. had happened, Molloy uttered a scream of rage, and drew his revolver. He leveled it quick as a flash, and fired, steering an oath “as he did so. : 16 But one of the outlaws sprang at him, and succeeded in striking his arm, thus turning the weapon | aside. ie pushed Molloy | back eds and took the fee volver from his hands. __ “None o’ that!” he cried sternly. and you'd ought to take it like a man.’ Molloy turned on him, springing to his feet. “Gimme my. revolver!” he commanded. The man tossed it to one of his friends. “Not on yer life, I dontls: “T’m boss here, ain’t I? Gimme that revolver! y “And let ye shoot Clayton: ei oe / _“That’s none of your bizness! Gimme that revolver!” The man stood facing him. ia “See here!” he said. “We reports this biz to Snaky - Pete, and. Snaky Pete ain’t goin’ to like it. don’t take no more orders frum you while he’s gone, Do you git that through yer head, or do I have to ham- mer it into it with my fist? You’re no longer boss of this outfit, Ben, there, takes yo place ; revolver. Now, go off some’eres, and think it over.’ Molloy might have protested further, but that a feel- ing pf dizzy faintness came upon him, and he had to. drop to a seat on. the ground. Pool Clayton felt. bewildered, rather than exultant, and he had forebodings. He did not know how this whole thing would be regarded by Snaky Pete. He walked out to his horse, after putting his coat on, and changed the picket-pin, trying to find something to occupy himself with, while he could think. Finally he came back, and sat down by the fire. c Molloy, lying on the grass, panting and dizzy, oe at him malevolently. The men said nothing, though they steadily regarded both him and Molloy. “A good ’un fer you!” said a voice. — Nick Nomad had spoken, much to Clayton’s surprise. “T was bettin’ on ye frum the fust jump. Whenever I hear a feller hollerin’ and pawin’ round, tearin’ up the ground like a mad bull, wantin’ to fight, I allus knows thet thar’s more wind in him than courage; and so I __ knowed you'd do him up. And it’s congratulatin’ -ye on it 1 am. Molloy oe himself on ae elbow and shot a malig- nant glance at the old trapper. “Ts it your cut in?” he snapped. “Shut yer head, and keep, it shut, or ll feed bullets into yer mouth.” “Pm Lee hungry I could eat anything,” said the old trapper, “even bullets.” The answer brought a et from the outlaws, and | seemed to lessen the tension existing. — Pool Clayton had dropped down near the old epRet, but he did not now look at him. But soon he heard the trapper say, and knew that the | “We don’t do that : kind o’ work, ye know! If you're licked, yon re licked And we — and he’s sy yer and mission. THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. words were intended for him, even ‘though ae tmight be overheard by the other outlaws: “My old: pard, Buffer Bill, has been: sighted in this section of kentry, yer friends has told’ me, and. the boss has gone out ter investigate reports about. him } ‘and he says if Buffler is caught, then you'll have the fun of shootin’ both him and’ me. ‘be things doin’ some be they catches oe ain t sich a fool as me.’ 1'm cal’lating that there will He CHAPTER val, CLOSING IN ON BUFFALO BILL. Snaky Pete had in his band some ‘of the ee eters of the West, some being men who had made their mark @ as scouts in earlier and better days. ‘These men had “gone wrong” at. last, and were now & but they had not. lost their skill in scouting outlaws ; and trailing; and on them Snaky Pete relied for informa- tion concerning Buffalo Bill, if the latter was really in the country. After. leaving camp, Snaky be scouts and spies broke into two bands, one being under his command, and the other under command of a faithful lieutenant whose cruelties had gained him the name of The White Wolf. It was now the night of the second day of their in- vestigations, after news had been received from the town confirming the information of Buffalo Bill’s presence Word had, come to Snaky Pete that Buf- falo Bill had been sighted. As strange as anything was the statement that the great border scout was accompanied by a woman of hatchety face and elderly aspect. The informants brought a description of the place where Buffalo Bill and this female had gone into camp ; and, after a discussion with his men, Snaky Pete de- cided to try to surround the scout there, and capture or kill him. ‘r Horses were left behind, lest by neighing or stamping they should reveal their presence to the man whom the outlaws hoped to take. At two o’clock in the morning the late moon came up, giving light; and Snaky Pete delayed his attack until that hour, for the camp of the scout was in a dark successful. ‘By the hour of ridnvente Snaky Pete and his men . "were on the mountain slope just below this camp; and they were creeping up the slope when the first faint | light in the east heralded the rising moon. FGI EDIE SE SSE LPR THEE Fi hollow, and light was needed to make an 1 attack on it es Buffalo Bill had been duly diligent, yet he knew | nothing of this stealthy approach-of the road-agents a who were determined on his destruction. He had fallen asleep in the earlier part of the aiebt. 6 yW ae = SE ESS zB SSE SL SAE LY ODIO Vo ng he 1p, itil [ irk | ait @ vast amount of talking she Had done. . THE BUFFALO yi But now he was. a having been aroused at about one o'clock. a At his command le eae had ca down, dropping : _ yelling as wildly as if they were Indians; and, with re- _ wolvers cracking, they sprang down into the hollow, _ where they expected to find the scout asleep. anto sound slumber. — oe, . The scout knew. Le ‘was in a- ae country. In -addition to the road agents who had captured Nomad, Indians were known by hyn to be in the neigh- borhood.. All:signs pointed to this.as a pay dan- gerous locality. os The scout sat in the ness eee the rising a the moon. His feet were over the concealed fire in the ground, to keep them warm, for the night was cold; and his coat was drawn tightly about him. His rifle was by his side, and 1 in a places were his revolvers and knife. ~The night was very dark just“before the moon’s ap- pearance, and he observed that it also ‘was oy quiet. ae Though some wolves howled ae off, near at hand not a sound was to be heard. This was to - his mind suggestive, danger. He thought it meant Indians. Whether they were crawling on him or not, he could not tell, but that Indians were moving about seemed witnessed by the deathly stillness. ( ad portended His horse, which had been grazing peacefully, became restless. However, after a few snorts it settled down again to nibbling at the scanty grass. But soon it ceased to feed. The scout arose now, ‘undoubling his tall form and standing erect in the darkness, with rifle in hand and head bent in a listening attitude. - ce ( He saw the dark’ shape where the woman lay. “No use to arouse her,’ was his thought; “she needs all the sleep she can get.” ° Pizen Jane was still an enigma to him, in spite of the The information given of herself had not been much more informing than word-puzzles. But she had clung to him, refusing to leave him, while stoutly declaring that her mission there was the same as his—to hunt down outlaws. When he heard Hens, the scout walked out to his horse. He found it with head up bad ears pricked forward, as if it either saw or heard something suspicious. © Standing by his horse, with hand on the lariat-rope close to» its nose, the scout looked out into the silent - darkness, while his. imagination pictured there crawling Indian forms. He did not think a outlaws The moon rose, lighting the rim of the hollow where he had pitched camp; but the rim was covered with a thick growth of bushes and small trees, and so con- Sse ganeee SPIO AR ERIE ICN ai Ee enten A Bb lb etr famine ct ME cit eee re ara SO ema a rahe Noe BILE SIGRIpS, — < | , 17 cealed from his searching eyes. the forms of the des- peradoes who had _ crept up there. Suddenly, they jumped into view, in the red moonlight, With one swift circling motion Buffalo Bill drew his knife and cut the rope that picketed his horse. In another instant he was on its back. With a wild dash, he broke through the thin line of outlaws on that side. He knew that if he returned to assist Pizen Jane his life would pay for it; and he preferred that she should fall into the hands of these men, leaving him alive, so that he might aid her later; a thing he certainly could not do if he rushed down there and fell oa the fire of their revolvers. Yet he had a certain twinge of conscience, which seemed to accuse him of cowardice 3 an abandonment of Pizen Jane. “But she can take care of herself, if any person in the world can, and later I can do something for her,’ he thought, as he drove his horse pell-mell through -the cracking bushes and the ype branches of the low trees. The outlaws near him yelled, and took snap shots at him; and soon other shots came ripping through the brush after him. But he had cleared the cordon which Snaky Pete was certain he had drawn round the camp; and, with a good horse under him, he felt secure, even though that horse had now neither saddle nor bridle. ~He waved his hand grimly in the direction of the yell- ing outlaws, as his horse galloped on into the open and he saw the gray prairies“at the foot of the mountains lying before him in the light of the rising moon. “Catch me, if you can!’’ he shouted. He felt almost gay, in the thought of the manner in which the outlaws had let him 2 through the ae of their net. Then he recalled that now both the woman and old Nick Nomad were prisoners in their hands, while he had escaped by the narrowest margin; and, realizing the deli- cate and dangerous work lying now before him, he mentally girded himself anew for the desperate work thus laid on him, . CHAPTER IX. A DEFIANT PRISONER, Pizen Jane was aroused from heavy slumber by the yells of the road oo and the crackling fire of their revolvers. _ She sprang up in bewilderment and momentary ter- ror. 18 2 THE BUFFALO Mei almost - ran over ee as” ao dashed | in ade: ot the scout. A ee ; ; ee One came up: ‘to: her: and, catching her F roughly ea the atm, jerked her ‘found. Her anger blazed at the insult. fist, she struck him in ‘the face. “You don’t know me, -I reckon?” she cried. “Well, iim. Pizen' Jane, “ot ‘Cinnabar, and “I dont: Jow. fo mis'rable: specimen of a mar to treat me as i r wasn t ‘a lady.” - The astounded road-agent put a hand to his tingling face. Then, as she seemed about to give hit a Second blow, he ducked, and stepped backward. : ‘Pardon me,” he said, not without humor; “Due! didn’t know I’d run up aginst the hind leg of a mule!” Other desperadoes came rushing up, and they sur- rounded her, asking ‘questions. ee ae “It’s none o’ yer bizness who I am, er what I’m doin’ here!” she snapped. “But I’m Pizen Jane, of Cin- nabar; and what my bizness is you'll know ‘fore you're ready fer it, lemme tell ye! And if any o’ you cattle thinks. he. can make fun o’ me, er tries to git gay with meé, he'll mighty oS wish’t he’d gone to some school of good manners.’ “You was with Buffalo Bille” “What if I was; an’ what if I wasn’t?” ““Vhat was him that rid off on that hoss?” out!” She folded her arms, and looked about defiantly, not at all afraid of them, apparently; and she made a queer figure, as she stood there, thus surrounded, with the light of the rising moon revealing her gaunt form and homely features. The chase of the scout, to judge from the sounds, was of a lively character; there was a continual pop- ping of rifles and revolvers, as the outlaws took snap shots at him, or at shadows which they mistook for him. 7 reckon they ain’t goin’ to git him,” said Pizen Jane complacently, as she cocked an ear in the direction of the uproar. . “Well, we've ct you!” was the grim answer... “And a lot 0’ good it will do ye! Now that you’ve got me, what ye goin’ to do with me? I ain't got nto money, and I’m too old and Ce fer any 0° ye to want me fer'a wife.” She had recovered Ue ental balance, if it had in- deed been lost at all. Now she sat down on the ground very deliberately,.and smoothed her ee hair and her travel-stained dress. ‘Some of the pursuing toad- “agents ae to come in, breathless and spent. They stared hard at her; and she snapped at them with vinegary answers when they asked questions i i i: j BILL STORIES. Drawing Pe her “Poller him and ask him, and then oe you'll’ find. good deal of danger by yer foolishness?” said Snaky. One of the men An who” soon. ) returned | from the ee was Snaky Pete. : When her” eyes righted’ on. him hee t joorned with a - fiercer fire than had: been in’ then lately. She™ got up, aiid strode toward him, her fingers outstretched as if she meant to tear his face. 3 “| “So, it's-you, is it?” she cried! “Well, I ‘nig oy knowed it was you, and I did partly guess tl. You low-lived, knock- kneed, as livered, flea- Pe devil- hunted ——” ; She stopped, gasping, unable to find aids to express her detestation and hatred; but went on again: “Oh, you mis’rable scum of the earth, you! You pestiferous, walkin’ image of a man! ve found you, and now I settle with you!” te She stopped, and slowly, drew a “revolver from the folds of her dress. In another moment she would have shot Snaky Pete dead, if one of his men had not caught her arm and knocked the weapon from her hand. She struggled with this man, shrieking, and tearing at him, frantically trying to regain her revolver. “When she was held,-for others were forced to go to their comrade’s aid, she stood panting and glaring at Snaky Pete, who had not said a word, but stared at her with wide eyes that hardly blinked. Cie “Jane Clayton!” he gasped. of thought——” “You thought I’d be too much of a woman, and too big a coward ore me 1 ae you was a i he said: “T was told it, and [— | : “Hoped I was; eh? Well, I ain’t! I’m alive enough to make things warm fer ye, and im Tiére: to, do it. Leggo ot me!” This last was directed to the men who clung to pet ~holding her. “Leggo of me!” she ‘screeched at them, flinging her- self to and fro. 2 “Search her, and see if she’s got other weapons,” said Snaky Pete. The men had been astounded on hearing her words to him; the whole thing was to them strange and mys- terious. | They searched her, but not very thoroughly. “Now, what air you doin’ here?” Snaky Pete de- manded of her. “You was with that man!” “Ves, with a man callin’ hisself Buffler Bill, hots I don’t know if he tole the truth about it. What of it? He was huntin’ outlaws, he said; and so was I.. And we j'ined teains, each to help the other. I jedge, by the way you tried to git him, that he’s the ginuine Buffler. And may the Lord speed him, in runnin” away from ye!” — “T s'pose you Know that you’ve run yerself into a | You're afeard o’ me, and you'd better be. | tell these gapin’, white-livered wretches with ye that I _ know you. melted it down and sold it? ET Rec uolis ieertte rbd ier airman I PRINT et AAD! mh ry er rab e elgsett ai pb gh iy NRE ASE 1 Pete. “If we'll let you go in the mornin’, and give ye a horse, will you cut out fer the town?” - J oe “Will 1? Not till I git through with you!’ . “Then we'll send you under escort; and if you won’t go no other way, we'll tie you to a horse, and make you go.” “Pete Sanborn,” she said, scorn in het voice, “of all the mean, low-down cowards on this earth, you’re the wust! Onl kin And why shouldn’t I, sense I was yer wife fer more’n two years, and had a chance to know how beastly mean a.man kin be when he gits down and tries? I-come huntin’ ye, fer one thing; and I’ve found ye.” Snaky Pete seemed afraid of her. “Shut up!” he said. She cackled defiantly. “IT won’t! I’m goin’ to tell these men what a coward ye air. You remember that time you knocked the drunk man down in the street, and then drug him into an alley and robbed him? And_do ye recklect that other time, when you stole the gold altar-service from a church, and ou do you recall that other time, when o “Close your head!” he shouted. He sprang at her, wild-eyed and fendict But she clawed him in the face, and he fell back. “Take her away!” he commanded. “Kill her—do any- thing; but take her away!” The men dragged her away, while she screamed and raved her hatred of the man who had once been her hus- band. Snaky Pete tried to turn the incident aside as a jest. “Heavens!” he said, “that woman’s got a tongue worse than a whip! She'll kill me. I did marry her; but that tongue made me mighty sick of my bargain, and I left her. She’s sore over that, and she y He stopped, as if disturbed by the angry outcries of Pizen Jane, but it was really because he realized that he might talk too much himself. ie COAP TER. MOTHER AND SON, Buttalo Bill was ‘not captured by Snaky Pete’s- road- agents, The escape of the dreaded scout annoyed them. They feared him, and knowledge that he was in that region disconcerted and troubled them greatly. They returned to the pursuit after daylight, but had no better success, and at length gave over the attempt to capture the elusive scout. When Snaky Pete and his band, with their woman i Bone focird the camp at Poplar Bluffs, Tom Mol- THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. 19 loy and Pool Clayton, with their strife and bickering, had disrupted the band left there, and were on the point of settling the trouble by a free-for-all fight. “You'll be int’rested in some one there,” Snaky Pete had said to Pizen Jane. That she was interested was proved by the outcry she made as her eyes fell on Pool Clayton. “So you're here, jes’ as I expected to find ye?” she sputtered. “Right here with these pizen skunks, after you writ to me that you had fell into the hands of a fake Buffler Bill, who was a road-agent, and that he was holdin’ you a pris’ner, and was likely to murder ye! What did you mean by writin’ that pack o’ lies to yer own mother?” Pool Clayton’s face grew as red as a beat. He looked at Snaky Pete and the road agents, and then back at the woman who had so suddenly announced that he was her son. On the ground lay the. prisoner, twinkle in his eyes now. “What did ye mean?” she screamed at Pool Clayton. “Here I find this pizen scamp that used to call hisself my husband, and with him I find you! Both o’ ye road- agents—the man that was.my husband, and the boy that was my son!” Pizen Jane’s voice broke in a sort of pitiful wail, and Nomad saw the tears come into her eyes. Pool Clayton looked confused and sheepish; Snaky Pete looked angry and humiliated. A “Here, shut up yer yawp!” Snaky Pete shouted to her. “You're a nuisance; do ye know it?” Nick Nomad, a “A nuisance is a good sight more of a credit to ther community than a murderous wretch like you air!” she retorted. “Shut up yer own yawp! The Lord gimme my tongue, and I’ve a right to use it, and I’m goin’ to.” She turned again to Pool Clayton. “T’m ashamed of ye!” she said. “Why did you write me sich a pack o’ lies?” : “Just to make you think I—I was killed,:or would be,” he admitted. “You didn’t want the to know that you had turned road-agent. You didn’t want me to know that you’d ‘jined forces with that measly runt there that I heard. one of these men call Snaky Pete. Well, he is snaky, ~and he’s worse’n snaky.” Then her voice and manner changed. “Pool,” she said, with something of motherly tender- ness in her voice, “it hurt me to believe that you’d gone wrong; and to find you here hurts me more than that did. Git out of it, son; leave this crowd of villains, and try to be an honest man. I’m a pore old woman, but I'll work my finger-nails off to git ye a start in some honest way, if you'll jes’ make a try to be honest.” bake Her away, - commanded Snaky Pete, irritated and wrathful. 20 She suffered herself to be led away, broken in spirit now, and sobbing. For the moment, at least, she was no longer Pizen Jane, but a heart- broken old woman. The stir caused by the return of the main body of des- peradoes caused the feud between Pool Clayton and Tom Molloy to be forgotten, or overlooked, for a time. The astonishing claim of Pizen Jane, that Pool Clay- ton was her son, and that Snaky Pete was her recreant husband, was enough of itself to make the outlaws forget that Clayton and Molloy had fought, and were threaten- ing bloody things against each other. Snaky Pete walked nervously about, a tone of irritation which masked somewhat the real HET of his heart. He observed the prisoner, old Nick Nomad. Then he looked at Pool Clayton, who had withdraan to a distance, both from his mother and from Snaky Pete, his stepfather. giving orders in Molloy had slunk away, and was busily engaged i in ma- king himself inconspicuous. Snaky Pete grew wrathful and murderously vindictive. “Here!” he snarled, speaking to Pool Clayton. “You ain't done yit what I told ye to!” He swung his hand toward Nick Nomad, as he thus spoke to the young would-be outlaw. “T told you to shoot that old skunk, and git him out of the way, and you ain’t done it!” Pool Clayton came forward when Snaky Pete shouted to him a second time. “You needn’t think that you and yer ae kin come here and run this camp! If she makes trouble, I’ll lay a stingin’ quirt across her back; and you've got to mind me, er I'll put a bullet through your head instanter, and _ git rid of ye!” Pool Clayton stood before him, trembling. (Dowe hear?’ ~ | “Yes,” said Clayton. “Then finish up the job that you wouldn’t do when I first tole ye to; put a bullet through that skunk instanter. _ We can't - He’s a pard of Buffalo Bill, and out he goes. keep him. and we can’t afford to let him go.” Old Nick Nomad never changed countenance as he heard these brutal orders. “Buffer,” he had said once, talking with his old border pard, “‘T allus tries ter live, so that when ther eend comes I can face it square and honest. My hand has been aginst tons and [ has tried to keep it frum doin’ wrong,” In that confident assurance old Nick Nomad lived, and. in it he could now die, if he had to. Yet the warm currents of life ran through his veins still, almost as freely as when he was a youth, and he did not desire death. He desired to live, that he might further strike at the wrong-doers of the border ; and even as he listened to Snaky Pete he was wondering how he ‘THE BUFFALO BIL STORIES. could escape the doom a those words cenit fore- shadowed. : Another heard Snaky Pete's brutal and murderous commands. The other was Pizen Jane. She stepped courageously in front of the old trapper, brushing away the hands of the outlaws who would have restrained her. “Air you a friend of Buffler Bill—the ginuine Buf- fler Bill?” she demanded. s “Lady,” said Nomad, “I is happy ter say thet I’m one of thet man’s closest: friends. Ill never deny thet, even afore ther Judgment.” She faced round toward Snaky Pete. _ “Pete Sanborn,” she said, her words sharp as knives, “when you kill this man you shoot me down, too; and as fur as lettin’ any son of mine do a thing like that, I'll slay him with my own hands fust!” Snaky Pete’s eyes glittered and his face almost grew black with rage. fag “Git out of my way!” he yelled, drawing a long knife. He lifted it, and jumped with it at the fearless woman. A trifle cracked, seeming far off on the slope of ve near-by mountain. Snaky Pete stopped in mid-air, and, throwing up his hands, he fell to the earth, blood spurting from between his lips. The men of the camp stood still, shocked and con- fused; then a yell of wrath broke forth, Some of them threw themselves on their horses, while others rushed to Snaky Pete, lifting him. “Glory be!” screamed Pizen Jane, waving her gaunt arms. “If the devil is dead, 1 know who pee him! *Twas Buffler Bill!” CHAPTER XI. THE DESERT HOTSPUR. Buffalo Bill had not only evaded and baffled the out- laws, but had circled round them, struck their trail, and had followed it so closely that, from the mountainside, he had been able to look down into the camp and behold the scenes which have been described. _ He had strong field-glasses, that drew the actors close to him, apparently. He saw them so clearly that he al- . most fancied he could follow the conversation. — His long-range rifle lay at his side. He saw that Nomad was there as a prisoner, and cer- tain actions told him that Nomad was in peril. He also fancied that Pizen Jane’s life was being threatened. As he looked, lowering his field-glasses occasionally, he fitted to his rifle ee sights, taking them from a pocket of his coat. On all the border there was not another rifle-shot like yan ES V {Re THE BUFFALO tffalo Bill. ooter. Instead of looking longer through the field-glasses, he oked now through the telescopic sights of his rifle. He saw Snaky Pete standing before the woman, who was protecting Nick Nomad with her body. He Saw the snife raised and glittering in Snaky Pete’s hand. ” Then his rifle cracked, with the sights bearing on.the outlaw leader ; and the bullet speeding true, he saw Snaky Pete pitch up his hands and roll to the ground. “Good work!” he said, patting the rifle affectionately. ‘That was about as long a shot as I ever made; but I ot him.” He saw men spring for their horses, and knew they would ride out to the point where the rifle had sounded. # Yet he lingered long enough to see Snaky Pete lifted ; and carried aside. 3 P . “I didn’t kill him,” he said. “The distance was too |) great, and I didn’t strike a vital spot; but he’ll remember | it for some time, Me no doubt, and maybe it will teach / him better manners.’ i He removed the telescopic sight and stowed it away, | and placed the field-glasses in their case. e Taking up his rifle, he made his way down the hill, “keeping out of view of the horsemen who were now fi- ing hard in his direction. Some distance below, in a growth of aspens, his horse : "had been concealed, ' Mounting, he rode down the slope. Then, swinging . ‘round the projecting base of the hill, he shaped his course cross the open country. His horse was speedy, and it was seemingly untiring. Though the outlaws saw him soon, and ae hot chase, » he steadily drew away from them. ) In an hour he had lost sight even of the foremost. That night, as darkness fell, the great scout was be- B tore ‘the cate at Fort Thompson, where a company of | cavalry was stationed. He was famous as a long-range sharp- be oy He was challenged; then he was Airis and con- i ducted to the headquarters of Major Clendenning, the : - commander. ‘long run; and the scout’s clothing was powdered with white dust, and dust streaked his face to a grayish tinge. _ He showed every indication of long and hard riding, Clendenning sprang up, with outstretched hand, when he noted scout was brought before him. Buffalo Bill had saluted ; but he now took the extended “hand of the officer. - “In the name of Heaven, Cody, where have you come from?” cried the major. “I thought you were over about the Sepulcher Mountains.” - “So I was, major,’ was his answer, “but now I am here. I rode from there since this morning.” _ Major Clendenning’s amazement showed in n his face. Cody’s horse was in a white lather of sweat from its BILL STORIES. ar “You had a change of horses, no doubt; and you must be nearly dead! Here, let me get you some wine!” “T had but one horse. He is pretty well exhausted, but will be all right after a rest. I need another, which I hope you can let me have.” “Swallow the wine, Cody, and then I’ll hear your story. Straight from the Sepulchre Mountains since morning!’ Buffalo Bill drank the wine, and then began to tell his story. ea ae “Nomad is a prisoner,”’ was one of his statements, ‘‘and so is a woinan from Cinnabar who calls herself Pizen Jane. I’m not just certain of her, but she bravely stood up before Nomad when that outlaw threatened him.” “She and Nomad will both be slain, if they have not been alreddy,”’ said Clendenning. “It may be. I’m hoping otherwise. But I saw I could do no more then than I had done, and that if I expected to aid them. I must have assistance. So I rode here to get ithe “You shall have it, Cody.” “I want twenty good men, well armed.and provisioned. We'll not be able to get back there as quickly as I came from there; but we can go as fast as possible... I shall rescue Nomad and root out that devil’s nest. If he has been killed, there will be some desperadoes of the Sepul- chre Mountains who will pay for it with their lives.” “You can start as early in the morning, Cody, as you like, and you shall have the men,” said Clendenning; “T’ll give the orders right now.” me He turned to the door. “Stop, major; | want those men right now, without a moment’s delay.” Clendenning turned back in surprise. “But you'll have to rest, Cody; you can’t go. back with- out proper rest.” “I’m fit to start back this minute, Major Clendenning. It willbe a favor if you detail the men who are to go with me, and have them get ready instantly. I should like to have you order an extra horse for me; and while preparations are being made a eat a bite, and then can go right back.” Clendenning, amazed at the scout’s orders, proceeded, however, to carry them out. Twenty picked men were soon saddling horses, looking to their rifles, packing rations, and getting ready for a hard and swift ride to the Sepulchre Mountains. Buffalo Bill swallowed some food hastily, ordered his saddle-pouches to be filled with more; and then dropped down on a lounge in the major’s headquarters for a few winks of sleep. He had hardly stretched himself on the lounge before he was sleeping soundly. 22° THE BUFFALO He slept less than noe an hour, during which time the preparations for his departure were being hurried ; then he awoke, seemingly much refreshed and Mee for any task. It was this astonishing ability to fall asleep anywhere and at any time, and to awake after a brief slumber ap- parently as refreshed as if he had slept through a whole “night, that in part made Buffalo Bill the wonder he was on a border trail. He now brushed his clothing, ate more food, and then issued fromthe major’s headquarters. “Men,” he said, speaking to the troopers who greeted him, and who were about ready to follow him, “we'll have a hard night’s work of it, and a part of to-morrow may be consumed if the outlaws have changed their location; but I know you, each of you—men of the gallant old Seventh Cavalry !—and I thank you in advance for the success 1. know you will achieve. If Nick Nomad has been killed by Snaky Pete’s desperadoes, then desperado blood will flow before we see this fort again.” They cheered him to the echo. _Not a man there but felt proud to follow this gallant scout, whose reputation was so closely linked with that of the famous Seventh Cavalry. Members of that noted regiment had died with Custer on the battle-field of the Little Bighorn, when a handful of men were overwhelmed and swept out of existence by a horde of Indian braves, the flower of the aS nation. c On almost every battle-field of the West in which Uncle Sam’s troopers were hurled against Indians or out- laws, the gallant Seventh had had representatives. The troopers cheered again, saluting the flag, as they passed in the night out through the heavy double gates of the fort. Major Clendenning accompanied them beyond the limits of the fort and its grounds. _ . “Men,” he said, as he was about to turn back, oy have “a new name for our famous ‘scout. Hotspur usually refers to a man impetuous of temper; but it might mean, also, | think, a man who as a horseman rode with a spur so hot that in nine hours he covered the distance between the Sepulchre Mountains and Fort Thompson. So I give you a new name for him—Buffalo Bill, the Desert Hotspur.” He lifted his hat to the scout; and again the aes cheered, their loud’cheering rolling across the level lands in a way that, if it could have been heard by them, would have startled the desperadoes under Snaky Pete. Then the troopers, with Buffalo Bill riding swiftly at their head, to set the pace for them, galloped away through the night and the darkness, the thundering of the hoofs of the horses reaching into the barracks at the fort. fe fe PA Myo bane BILL STORIES, CHAPTER 3. IN THE OUTLAW STRONGHOLD, Snaky Pete's men, when they returned, reported that no horse they had could keep in sight of the thorough- bred ridden by Buffalo Bill. Snaky Pete received the report lying on a roll of blan- kets, gasping and sputtering. The bullet fired by the scout had struck him on the lower lip, laying it open, knocking out some teeth, and bringing a spurt of blood from the wound. Snaky Pete had thought he was killed when he fell and knew that blood was pouring from his mouth. As a matter of fact, he was not seriously wounded, though the pain was sharp for a time, and the character of the wound made it difficult for him to speak. His fright did not soon pass, however. Even after his men returned with their report that Buffalo Bill had escaped he still lay on the blankets, moaning and cursing. - The fact that Buffalo. Bill had ridden toward distant Por Thompson filled him with uneasiness. Because of it he ordered the horses to be got ready, and the entire band to move at once into the Sepulchre Mountains. ae He was filled with a sullen and savage rage against Pizen Jane and Pool Clayton, and against Nick Nomad. He began to believe that Pizen Jane had guided Nomad and Buffalo Bill; and he now even suspected that Pool Clayton, in joining the band, was moved by a desire to betray it into the hands of officers. He refused to. furnish Pizen Jane with a horse, de- claring that if she accompanied him she would have to walk. a She came up to him, as he swayed weakly on the horse to which he had been helped. “Git out o’ my way,” he mumbled. . ‘round me [’ll kill ye!’* oe “But I want to know if you ain’t goin’ to’send Pool away? I ain’t goin’ away myself, but I. want. Pool turned loose on a horse, with orders fer him to go back to Cinnabar. I’ve been talkin’ with him, and he'll do it. Air ye goin’ to let him?” “TH furnish you with.a horse to clear out ae he said, speaking with pain and difficulty. 2 “Me? La, I ain’t goin’! But I want him to start now, instanter. Here he’s like a Bond apple in a middle of a lotvof rotten ones, So “Go yourself!” Snaky Pete snarled at her. “No, I stays with you!” Why ?” “Well, jest to please myéSelf.” “To help that old trapper ?” ; “No; jes’ to please myself. I’m yer wife, ain’t 1? Er I was before I divorced ye. I think I'll. stay with you.” “Tl kill you if you do!” he fumed. “He can’t go! Go “Tf you hang yerself, and I’ll be glad to have you git out.” ¢ ie She aigpren back, to where Pool Clayton was riding. He slipped from his- horse. “Take it, and Vl walk,’ he said, nae a “guilty flush. “JT want you to leave these men instanter,” she urged. “No; L ain’t goin’ to. Why don’t you go?” “Me?” She leaned toward him. ete Sanborn soon’s I git the chance. fe, and now he’s ruinin’ yourn, ‘Her voice was low, but her face flushed as if she had swallowed fiery liquor. Snaky Pete saw her talking with the youth, and then saw her mount the horse which Pool surrendered to her. i “They’re ag’inst me!” he grumbled, under his. breath. They’ ve planned to break up the band and git me cap- Hitured. It’s. revenge she’s after. Well, I’ll settle her; Hand I'll settle him, and that old trapper, too! I see now p why Pool wouldn’ t shoot the old cuss; it was ‘cause he’s with him. He and she air in with Buffalo Bill and ithe officers. Likely they’re to git a reward, if they land me. Well, I'll settle em!” ' He brooded over this, his anger ‘mounting and his de- | sire to “settle em’ growing. “Mebbe I can git out of her what the plans of Buffalo Bill air; er mebbe I can git it out of Pool. I reckon that ony will try to bring soldiers from Fort Thomp- son. There’s a nasty fight comin’, | can see. Well, l’m vin’ yit; and long’s I can straddle a horse and give orders, I’m worth a dozen men in a fight. And if Cody thinks we won't fight he'll know better when he tackles He ruined my His thoughts took another turn: “P'r’aps | might buy Cody to draw off the soldiers by sending him word that if he didn’t- Id kill Nomad. It might work, and might r advisable if we git in a tight bole : He was in a fretting and fuming mood hen the Sepulchre Mountains were entered. His wound made him feverish, and that did not add to his good temper. He snapped and snarled at his men whenever they came to him for orders, and conducted himself altogether in a disagreeable way. _ “He’s jes’ like a bear wah a sore head,” said Pizen Jane, when she observed these things. Clayton had done the same; both of them avoiding, as uch as possible, personal contact with the irascible leader. toe ' _As soon as their permanent camp was gained, in the Epepulchie Mountains, ‘the outlaws began to put it in _ order for a fight, or a Siege. » the place was a cuplike hollow, with a pass running ‘through it. If an enemy could gain and hold both ends of that pass the outlaws could only ‘escape by scaling the ‘mountains. But, on the other hand, if the outlaws bar- THE BUFFALO “Because I’ve! swore py everything that’s good and bad that I’m goin’ to kill - She -had kept with the outlaw command, and Pool Bite. STORES. 23 ricaded those entrances into the valley and’ stationed ‘a force of riflemen behind the barricades, the troopers who climbed over them would have the. fight of their lives to accomplish it. “In spite of the pain of his wound and his feverishness, Snaky Pete personally superintended. the strengthening of the barricades. He saw that ammunition was prop- erly distributed, and that all arms were put in the dh possible condition. ae Night was approaching before all the ae were in condition to suit him, He looked them over carefully, as he walked from point to point, his face swathed in bandages. “If they climb over them,” he thought grimly, “there’ll be more dead troopers than live ones. When Snaky Pete Bis his back to the wall, he fights, and they Il find it out.” CHAPTER XIIL_ BUFFALO BILL AS A SCOUT. Buffalo Bill and the troopers from Fort Thompson struck the foot-hills of the Sepulchre Mountains at day- break, and were thus able to get under cover of the scrub that fringed them, and out of sight of any spies and scouts that-Snaky Pete might have sent out. It had been a hard night’s ride to accomplish this, but it was worth the exertion. Buffalo Bill was sure the road-agents had changed their position since he saw them last. Hence, the first thing to do was to locate them in their new position. ; In spite of the tremendous strain he had been.under for so long, he undertook to do this himself; and he leit the troopers in camp in a grassy nest within the foot- hills, but close up to the base of the Sepulchre range. He rode his weary horse for a few miles, until he struck the trail made by the outlaws in their retreat. Then he left the horse well ee and ea on foot to follow the trail. It was so fresh-looking he thought the outlaws were not far ahead. He went so slowly, however, in order to guard against surprise that the afternoon was well advanced before he came in sight of the cuplike hollow where they were preparing to make their stand. From an elevation that commanded the hollow he looked with his field-glasses right down into the camp, and saw the busy preparations making to meet the troopers. Ae He was much worried, because he could not see old Nick Nomad... He hoped, however, that the old man was being held ‘in one of the houses.. Once he beheld Pizen Jane, but only for a brief mo- 24 THE BUFFALO “ment or two. She came out of a low hut, and looked about, and then went in again. “T must know, if possible, if Nomad is- there; and I wish I could do something to- oo that woman when we make our charge.” His study of the outlaw stronghold doniheed him that it would be folly to attack it from either.end of the pass. The barricades were strong, he saw, and he did not wish to sacrifice the lives of any of the. os needlessly. So he began to examine the aps of the ie that led down into that hollow. Z _ They were unscalable to horses, but he believed at one point men might descend them, even in the darkness. He made careful note of that point, and stowed its landmarks in his memory. ‘ When the shadows of coming night filled the hollow the scout moved from his position, and began to work his way down toward it, screening "himself behind rocks and bushes. ; Darkness came fully while he was still on the slope of the hill, and he remained there until he felt it was safe to work still nearer in to the outlaw camp. Guards had been set at the barricades, and beyond them in the passes, and guards were also stationed round the camp at intervals. The scout approached so near to one of these guards that he heard the tread of the fellow’s feet and sels the odor of the tobacco burning in his pipe. - Though he desired to get still nearer in, Buffalo Bill saw the difficulty of the attempt, for this sentry walked a beat which crossed the line of his advance. - After working with much care to one side he crouched in the darkness, and emitted there the well-known “cuckoo” call of the prairie dog owl, hoping by it to reach old Nomad, if the trapper still lived. The guard was not disturbed at first by the call of the little owl, for it was a familiar sound; but when it was several times repeated, and with a variation he had never heard in the note, his attention was attracted. “A cussed funny dog owl,” the scout heard him m mut: ter; and then heard him come toward him. Buffalo Bill desired to keep from the outlaws the fact that their camp was being spied on, hence ‘he crouched low i in the hollow and waited until the guard had turned back. | Then he sent forth again the “cuckoo” call, with that. queer variation which had attracted the notice of the sentinel. | . Unfortunately for the immediate success of the scout’s efforts, Nomad was at the time asleep in one of the huts, and so did not hear him. When no answer came to his calls the scout’s uneasi- _ ness concerning the fate of Nomad grew. Resolved to know, if possible, if the old ae lived, & placement of a small stone, BIEL STORIES, he slipped from his place of concealment when the sentry had walked to the farther end of his beat, and then went @ sliding farther down, over the steep rocks. i The sentry was a keen-eared fellow, and heard the dis- slope. * The scout flattened himself on the rocks and waited, ee the stone fell. : : The sentry, after a moment of silence, again came to- a ward him; and soon the scout could see ue faintly in 1M the dim Heht of the stars. : a ‘Prairie dog. owls don’t ginerally go to Oi ens: the sentinel was muttering, as he stood staring up the slope, trying to make out what it was shad started the gy stone to rolling. He could see nothing that warranted suspicion. “Mebbe a coyote tryin’ to git at the owl,” he said to he himsel {; “hain't heerd the owl fer a minute er So. P raps it was Carel off by a coyote.” He came still farther up the slope, prying and peering. He saw something, and, Pe yy his rifle, he fired at it. : ne What he beheld was the recumbent form of the scout, flattened against the rock. The scout saw the rifle pointed toward him, avoided its bullet by a quick, sliding movement. oe struck the rock over his head. _ That sliding motion was heard and seen, by the sentry. He did not believe, then, that what he trad shot at was a man, but thought it a coyote; and because it had not bounded away he thought he had slain it, =f Ele leaped forward, swinging his rifle; while a roar of excited calls and questions were filinled up at fim from the camp. He beheld the dark ball into which the scout had- doubled himself when he knew he could not easily escape, and plunged toward it, with knife in hand. To his,;astonishment, as he bent down he was caught by the collar of his coat and jerked flat on his face. He yelled in fright; then wheezed, as the iron fingers anid The _of the scout settled round his windpipe. The men below were yelling up at him. Luifalo Bill’s choking fingers reduced him to uncon- cievsness, and then flung him aside. The scout still lay where he had been lying; but now kis revolvers were out. SLs “That aroused the whole camp,” he said to himself, “and I'll have to get out of here quick.” Bet it occurred to him that in arousing the outlaws he had probably aroused the old trapper, also, if he lived. 50 he sent forth again, ‘with that varying une the call of the little dog owl. Oid Nomad, who had been eG by the riflé-shot -and the clamor, heard it, and recognized it at: once. ‘He sat bolt upright, listening for its repetition. which rattled down the q it THE BUFFALO It came again, clear and unmistakable. Sbee “Buffler!” he said, with a thrill of. recognition. Then he rolled to the door of the -hut, for-he was pound; and from the open doorway sounded a. cry similar to that which had come from the hillside. _ When Buffalo Bill heard it a great.load of dread. rolled ' Be rom his heart. = “Nomad!” he said. “Thank Heaven, ee is sve! f §6Pizen Jane had heen standing close. by the door, on (the outside, when Nick Nomad uttered. that cry of the dog owl. “That's queer’ faintly outlined, es “A hull cageful,” he answered. _ And again he sent out the cry. Buffalo Bill was already eee up-the slope, know- ) ing that the outlaws would soon be there. Fle was glad he had aroused old Nomad, but he re- gretted that he had drawn the rifle-fire of the sentry ; for he had hoped the outlaws would not guess that an enemy had-gained access to that slope of the hill overhanging their permanent camp. But regrets were useless. The ae thing to be gore was to accommodate himself to the facts. When the outlaws, climbing up the hill, ad the point where the sentry lay senseless, they found him, and flashed lights, to discover if he were dead, or what had happpened to him. _ By shaking the ‘man they aroused him; and he sat up, Staring and wheezing, eens at his aching throat. “I thought it was a coyote,” he gurgled. “And what was it?” Welk 1 dunno; choked mé, and-———”’ “Must have been a man!” ol thought it— it was a coyote, prowlin’ round after a dog owl,” he explained. “I heard a dog owl, and then I thought I saw the coyote, and “Shot at a coyote? That was no way to do! Y “Well, I didn’t know but ’twas mebbe a man.” They took him down into the camp, where Snaky Pete was nervously awaiting their report. Snaky Pete ques- tioned him, and inspected his throat. | eae prints there, it looks like,” he said. ‘‘’T was man. And if a man, theh ‘twas an enemy, er he nt slid out that way. Mebbe there air more of Fem up there... as the oy and every man Pad to his post.” Old Nick Nenad lying in tie doomeay o the iit, as listening for some other sound from Buffalo Bill. “What was the meanin’ of that?” Pizen- Jane asked im, after the helpless sentry. had been brought in. Nomad was silent. She repeated her question. she said, looking at him, seeing him “Have you Bot a dog owl hid about but somethin’ grabbed me, and BILL STORIES. 25 “I might say, if I thought I could trust ie 4 Chal ae to ye that you can,” she said; “though I’m doin’ jes’ what I have been meanin’ to do all day.” She bent over him and cut the cords that held him, and then slipped the knife into his hands. “Now; what. was it?” — “Buffler Bill,’ said Nomad. “He was out thar. war his signal ter me; and I answered it.” “He’s got men with him?” she gasped. er “IT dunno. Mebbe he has, and mebbe he hain’. But he’s silent now, and prob’bly has cut out, seein’ that the force hyar is too big fer him. But you bet he'll be comin’ back ag’in; and when he does, somethin’ will be doin’.” Be Thet CHAPTER XIV, THE LIVING BARRICADE. In one way, it was unfortunate that Pizen Jane had released old Nomad at that time. — A road-agent who had heard the cry of the dog owl from the hut, and wondered about it, came over to inves- tigate, and appeared so suddenly and inopportunely that ' he discoveted what Pizen Jane had done. With a yell of astonishment and wrath, he hurled the woman aside and leaped on the old trapper. Under ordinary conditions, Nomad might have en- gaged this desperado successfully; but now his arms and legs were benumbed, and his whole body was sore and stiff, from the long congestion of blood caused by the bonds that had been on him. Nevertheless, though surprised, and taken at such a disadvantage, the old trapper put up a stiff fight. He slashed a wide gash in the outlaw’s face with the knife. Pizen Jane had given him; and then, tripping the outlaw, he rolled with him over and over on the oe clawing and striking with all his might. Pizen Jane flew to the aid of Nomad, and set upon the road-agent. ~ How the singular combat would ie ended, if there had been no interference, cannot be stated. oO There was. interference. Other outlaws, drawn by the noise, ran to the hut; and in a very little while both old Nomad and Pizen Jane were overpowered and their weapons taken from them. Snaky Pete came to the hut, drawn by the yells of his men, and learned what had happened. ‘His rage passed all bounds. He drew a revolver, and for an instant it seemed that he meant to shoot both old | Nomad and Pizetr Jane- ~ a ave Then another thought came to him. “Tie ‘em, and keep ‘en tied, he said ; Clayton here. I want to see him bad. s That sounded ominous. Pool Clayton was oalled: and came forward with fear. and trembling: “and send Pool 5 ~ offense itself. THE, BUFFALO 26 He had told his. mother not long before that he was willing to leave the outlaws, and glad to do it, if she would accompany him. He had been expecting that she would do that soon. difficulty of getting out of the camp. Pool Clayton had been given a good deal a time tor serious reflection.. His dreams of what a road-agent’s life was like had not come true; been aroused to a realization of the enormity of: the his mother. But perhaps the oe of the ee that fd laa en him was a recollection of Snaky Pete’s commands to him to shoot old Nomad. That, with his present. fear of neon dace in the battle with the troopers that seemed imminent, had made him want to get out of the camp without delay. It seemed to him that his talks with his mother, and even his thoughts and desires to get away, had become known to Snaky Pete, when the latter sent for him, com- manding him sharply to appear at once. On arriving at the hut, he saw Nomad and Pizen Jane bound and prisoners. : A startling fear that he was to be commanded to shoot not only Nomad but his mother came to terrify him. : But that was not the thing in the mind of Snaky Pete. “Tie him!” Snaky Pete roared. The road-agents threw themselves upon the fat stricken youth, quickly subdued him, and bound him. - Then Snaky Pete took occasion to explain to his t men just what he meant to do. “Buffalo Bill thinks mighty well, seems to me, of them three people,” he said, pointing to the three prisoners. “It’s my opinion that Pool and his mother got in here on purpose to betray the band, and lead enemies to it. In my jedgment, they’d have done something to-night, by way of weakenin’ the barricades mebbe, that would have got us all killed, er captured.” The murmurs of the desperadoes rose e unpleasantly, as they listened to these accusations. -“T been watchin’ Pool ever sence he refused to shoot that old duffer there when I ordered him to. That's one p’int in the proof that he is cle Nomad’s friend, and Cody’s friend ; rattlesnake in many ways that ever crawled on the earth. Tis Jes’ the same, I ain’t goin’ to shoot ’em—not now! I want ‘em put up in front of the barricades, where the troopers can see ’em; and then, if the soldiers want to shoot into the barricades, let ’em do it.” _ Tt was a long speech, and its utterance cost him effort and pain; yet he felt savagely gratified by it. He had determined on the death of Pizen Jane, and of Pool Clayton and Nick Nomad. If the troopers, in trying to take the barricades, killed It was delayed, he ou ie os and, besides, he had: In addition, his heart had been touched by ; and that woman I know to be the pizenest BILL: STORIES. the three, well..and good; for a time; ~he hoped. their position there would -hold the soldiers back... e If the prisoners were not thus slain, he would have them shot as enemies, after the coming fight was over. He still had confidence in his men, and in the strength of his position, and was feverishly vengeful and defiant. Pool Clayton wilted and cried out for mercy when he was dragged by the road-agents out to one of the bar- ricades, and was lifted over it and tied to ne logs of which it was composed. : His mother was tied by his side. They were on the outside of the barricade, a looked up the dark pass, where they half-expected to see soon the flaming of the carbines of troopers. | Placed thus, where the rain of lead could not miss # them, it seemed to Pool Clayton that his end was at hand. He cried out in bitterness and anguish of spirit, re- proaching himself for the evil course which had led to this. “Pool,” said Pizen Jane, touched by his moaning out- cries, “there air things that air.a heap worse’n to die this way; and’one of the things that air worse is bein’ a successful road-agent. Fer that is a thing that would shore destroy you, and. land you in Hades.” “Oh, don’t talk that way!” he wailed.. “Don’t talk that way! We.must escape! We must get away!” He threw himself to and fro in his agonies.. . One of the outlaws came climbing over the fade. “See here,” he said, ‘ “if you don’t stop that yelpin’, I’ve got orders to gag ye. Now, will you stop?” Pool Clayton stopped, but lay shivering against the logs, white-faced and wild-eyed, overcome by terror. At the other barricade Nick Nomad had been tied in ‘the same way. But Nomad was showing no cowardly . spirit. He believed in Buffalo Bill’s ability to accomplish even wonders, and he therefore had fee CHAP DER SOs THE GALLANT TROOPERS. Bavalo Bill scaled successiully the slope oF the 1 moun- tain above the outlaw camp and got away. He heard the uproar in the camp, and was almost tempted to turn back, fearing for the life of Nick Nomad. But he went on, — He did not really see how he could help Nomad with- out at the same time putting his own life in such jeopardy that the risk could not be justified. Two hours later he* reached his . horse, whieh he mounted, and then shaped his course by the stars in the direction of the camp of troopers. Midnight was long past when he reached their camp and reported his discoveries. Tne BUPEALO their “I must have half an hour’s sleep,” he said, “and while I am getting it have everything made ready for an imme- have j@fiate advance.” 2 He dropped down by one of the fires, in his se. neth and was sleeping almost at once, as soundly as a child. iant. | The lieutenant in command of the troopers awoke him n he Wat the end of his brief nap. bar- , Then, once more, the redoubtable scout was in ‘the s of | Baddte, this time leading the troopers forth toward the Idiscovered camp of the desperadoes of the Sepulchre » Mountains. ked The men under Buffalo Bill Sead the base of the s00n i mountain over against the outlaw camp shortly before ; () daylight, having ridden hard to accomplish it. miss jf ‘[Here the horses were left, one man out of four drop- and. |) ping back to hold them, while the other ee went for- re- [§ ward. 1 to Buffalo Bill again led the advance, up. the ae of ) the mountain. sut- [| His spying of the previous afternoon had convinced die him of the folly of trying to take those barricades by aa dl rssaiilt:. | uld [) He did not doubt the courage had ability of the troopers, than whom braver men never lived, but it would have been criminal, he felt, to ask them to lay | down their lives in front-of those deadly barricades when . the camp might be taken in an easier way. X hat de. His plan was to climb the mountain and descend in Eve "the darkness just before the dawn upon the outlaw camp, endeavoring by this descent and the suddenness the | of the attack to surprise and stampede its defenders. | In spite of his strenuous efforts to get down the slope ) while the darkness was densest, the very fact that the ' darkness was so great kept the scout from doing this. For the descent had to be made with caution; and, con- sequently, was made with wearying slowness. in ish The gray dawn was in the east when the troopers crouched like mountain-lions on the rocky ground that ) overhung the outlaw camp. Down in the camp there was some kind of stir, (uepes what it meant could not be determined. a In the gray light the shapes of the low. huts were almost indistinguishable. oF ‘The sentries that the scout knew were there could not ck Fi he seen. Not a light flickered, and no camp-fire glow was seen.” hw - But he was sure that behind the barricades the out- ly ° laws were waiting and watching, and that alert seritinels _ were making their ceaseless and vigilant rounds. Suddenly a single revolver-shot sounded down in the 1e 1e camp, breaking with startling clearness on the ‘still air . of the dawn. Dp Following it there was an excited clamor. He Buffalo Bill did not know what that shot meant. BELL STORIES 27; realized that it might be a signal that he and the troopers had been discovered. Yet he did not hesitate, but gave instantly the com- mand to charge, hoping to gain some advantage by the excitement and confusion into which the outlaws seemed | to have been thrown. The troopers leaped, some ee and rolling, down the bouldered slope. Then their charging cheer rose, and their carbines flamed and cracked, as they gained the lower ground, and rushed upon the huts they now beheld before them. Most of the outlaws were at the moment behind the barricades which defended the two sides of the camp, at the entrances of the pass. Some of them. however, were in or near one of the huts, and with wild yells they tried to meet the onset of the charging troopers. At the head of the troopers was seen the tall form of Buffalo Bill, as, with revolver in hand, he led the charge. Desperadoes went down, under the fire of the troopers, . and troopers fell, shot by desperadoes; and then the troopers were in the midst of the huts, and the battle was on in all its fury. “CHAPTER XVI. PIZEN JTANE'S VENGEANCE, The shot which Budfalo Bill and the troopers heard, and which was followed by their ey was fired by Pizen Jane. Perhaps because she was a woman the cords that bound her wrists and held her to the barricade were not knotted as securely and tightly as those that bound her son. Men are desperate and low indeed when they do not, consciously or Pe retain some consid- eration for a woman. Pizen Jane discovered after a time that she could work her wrists about in the cords. - She said nothing of her discovery, for outlaws were neat her, behind the barricade; and out in front paced a sentry. But she began to strain and tug at the cords, finding by and by that they gave a little. This added to her desire to get out of them, and to that task she bent her endeavors. Yet a long time went by before she again felt the cords slip and give under her manipulation. After she was able to draw out one hand she stood for some time in silence, considering what she could do. Apparently, she could do nothing, because of the men near-by. yee She did not dare to speak of what she had see [07 Pool, lest she should be overheard. f After that, as she waited, hoping for something that —-s = = 7 3 ¢ ‘ “at 3 dere ; Out in ifont saw her ¢ Che ctand crect «7 4 ade bk 1, <3 tetas x. SHE STOOG EFect Dy al ficade er nands pening fe La pi ane more Leo Tir So eet roamnreccee. and 435A nant JACK ONCE More, her 11ps ti JT pTEessea, and Gid 710 answer him. Long before dee fis Fool Oy a “ ee Ee C O. n d © Qu ; 2 in the face “Hello? iY 2 He repeated. “What you doin’? Then her hands flew out, and, catching the knife from his belt, that tumbled him back, gasping and she drove it into his shoulder, inflicting a wound OQ Mm fou half-paralyz LA Before the outlaws on the other side of the barricade knew just what had occurred, Pizen Jane had cut the cords that held her, had stricken loose those that bound Pool Clayton, climbing over the barricade, the knife and the revolver in her hands, and was sentry’s she snarled, at one of sought to oppose her progress. “Git out o’ the men who He fell back out of the way of the knife. Then she sprang down, and in another instant she was running toward the huts. my way!’ striking One of the outlaws pitched up a rifle and was on the poimt of shooting her. “Don’t do it!” a companion warned, and he knocked the muzzle of the gun aside. “The boss would raise Old Ned wi’ ye, if ye should.’ But though followed her. When they reached the huts, though they had fol- lowed close at her heels, they could not find her. they feared to shoot, a couple of them One of them poked his head into the hut where Snaky Pete vas lying, supposedly asleep. | “Hello!” he called, in a low voice. ‘That no eTS has got away, and is in the camp here some’eres.’ Snaky Pete came to his feet, and rushed to the door. startling answer. med to rise out of the ground before She threwt pe the revolver, and fired full at him. olver-shot that the scout and the troopers ang out, Snaky Pete Sanborn, the out- ado, pitched forward on his face, falling | s d kept her vow. f the troopers came right on top of this, attention of the outlaws to the task of repul- ht that ¢ Lit tilda L ollowed was sharp and hot, but it was inding that the troopers were within the camp itself, 1 stationed at the barricades a them and running for safety out through within the camp, who had been trapped there, fought with a courage and desperation worthy of a better They slew some of the troopers, and several of their fell. rs tried to get out of the camp, but, being they threw down their weapons and sur- 1} oe oD eN cht oF i. oD rill voice of Pizen Jane was heard once, as she took part in the fight against the outlaws; and once the held her, with smoking pistol, confronting one OE When the fight had onde she was found lying dead close by the hut where she had killed her infamous and recreant ‘husband. Nomad was, of course, released from his unpleasant predicament. Pool Clayton seemed genuinely grieved over the death of his mother, and shed bitter tears when he beheld her dead body. He was not held for the crime of being a member of the road-agent band, but was permitted to depart from the country. That a genuine reformation in his character was ef- fected the scout believed, for afterward he had word of him, at,a time when Pool was residing in a Pacific Coast city, where he had secured honorable employment and seemed determined to live an honest life. THE END. Next week’s issue, No. 307, will be “Buffalo Bill’s Wild Range Riders; or, The Vengeance of Crazy Snake.” You will find it a capital story of Indian and border life. KS AN SRA —< ISSUED EVERY TUESDAY. BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVERS Buffalo Bill wins his way into the heart of every | one who reads these strong stories of stirring adventure | on the wide prairies of the West. Boys, if you want tales of the West that are | drawn true to life, do not pass these by. PRICE FIVE CENTS PER COPY For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, by the publishers to any address upon receipt of price in money or postage alanine HERE ARE THE 278—Buffalo Bill’s Daring Plunge; or, The Grisly Ghost of Mahoe. les 279—Buffalo Bill’s Desperate Mission; or, The Round- up in Hidden Valley. 280—Buffalo Bill’s Ghost Raid; or, Hot Times at Bubble Pricking. 281—Buffalo Bill’s Traitor Gute or, The Vengeance of Alkali Pete. 282—Buffalo Bill’s Camp-fires; Snake River Crossing. 283—Buffalo Bill Up a Stump ; ; Or, The Pabines Baler of the Bitter Root. _ 284—Buffalo Bill’s Secret Foe; or, The Wizard of Windy Gulch. 285—Buffalo Bill’s Master-stroke ; Death Valley. 286—Buffalo Bill and the Masked Mystery ; or, Teton a John, the Half-breed. 287—-Buffalo Bill and the Brazos Terror; or, The Lone : Star Outlaws. 288—Buffalo Bill’s Dance of Death; Hawks of Snake River. 289—Buffalo Bill and the Creeping Terror; Black Spider of the Shoshones. 200—Buffalo Bill and the Brand of Cain; or, The Wane dering Jew of the Plains, ee Bill and the Mad Millionaire; “, ‘Redskin Rovers. 292—Buffalo Bill’s Medicine-lodge; or, The White Queen of the Kickapoos. - 293—Buffalo Bill in Peril; the Niobrarah. or, The Bad Man of or; ‘The Specter of or, The Night or, The Or, “Lhe or, The Red Amazons of LATEST TITLES: 294—-Buffalo Bill’s Strange Pard; or, Wolfer Joe on the War-path. 295—Buftalo Bill in the Death Desert; or, The Worship of the Phantom Flower. 296-—-Buffalo Bill in No Man’s Land; or, The Sky-mir- ror of the Panhandle. 297—-Buffalo Bill’s Border Rufflans; oo) Game OL Panther Pete) 298—Buffalo Bill’s Black Eagles; or, The Snake-master from Timbuctoo. 299-—Buffalo Bill’s Desperate Dozen; or, The Raiders of Round-Robin Ranch. 300—Buffalo Bill’s Rival; or, The Scalp-hunter of the Niobrarah. : 301—Butftalo Bill’s Ice Ce or, ‘Phe Trail of the Black Rifle, or, The Desperate 302——Buffalo Bill and the Boy Bugler; or, The White Flower of Fetterman Prairie. 303—Buffalo Bill and the White Specter; or, The Mys- terious Medicine-man of Spirit Lake, , 304—Buffalo Bill’s Death Defiance; or, The Bad Men of Timber Bar. 305—Buffalo Bill and the Barge Bandits; or, The Demon of Wolf River Cafion, 306—Buffalo Bill, the Desert Hotspur; or, Pizen Jane, of Cinnabar. 307—-Buffalo Bill’s Wild Range Riders; or, The Venge- ance of Crazy Snake. 308—Buffalo Bill’s Whirlwind Chase; or, The Mustang: Catchers of Bitter Water, * 309—Buffalo Bill’s Red Retribution; or, The Raid of the Dancing Dervishes. If you want any back numbers of our libraries and cannot procure them from your news- Gealers: they can be obtained from this office direct, Postage stamps taken the same as money. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Avenue, NEW YORK CITY. Fag ISSUED EVERY ( SATURDAY. HANDSOMEST COLORED COVERS No other detective library contains stories that are half so inter- esting. ence with all kinds of criminals, Nick Carter has been all over the world and has had experi- That’s why, boys, his adventures. holds one’s interest from « covet to cover. There is no brutality in Nick’s make-up—he does not need it —he uses his wits. newsdealer. | ‘PRICE Do not fail to get the latest number from your FIVE CENTS PER COPY ‘For ale by all newsdealers, or sent, by the publishers to any address upon receipt of price in money or postage stamps HERE ARE THE '§05—The Man of Many Faces; or, Nick Carter Behind the Scenes. - 506—A Letter From the Dead; or, Nick Carter’s Prowd- est Moment. 507—Bare-faced Jimmy, the Gentleman Crook; or, Nick Carter’s Amazing Experiment. 508—The Gentleman Crook’s Last Act; or, Nick Carter and the Haunted House. 509—The “Skidoo” of the K. U. & T.; or, Nick Carter‘s Great Train Robbery Case. 510—The Last of the Outlaws; or, How Nick Carter Stopped the “Cannon- ball.” 511—Nick Carter’s Twin Mystery; or, The Secret of the Green Automobile. Br2—A Battle of Wits; or, Nick Carter’s Fight for Life, | 513A Game of Five ‘Millions; or, Nick Carter’s Fight With a Fiend. _ 514—Codman the Poisoner; or, Nick ee s Strangest Experience. 515—The Plot of the Poisoner; or, Niel Carter’s Hair- breadth Escape. 516—The Mechanical Giant; or, Ten-Ichi Plays a Lone Hand. Mystery. 518—A eee Woman; or, Nick Carter Faces a risis '519—Madge Morley’s Ghost; or, Nick Carter’s Des- perate Fight. 20—An Automobile Mystery; or, Nick Corer S. Blood- hound on the Scent. LATEST TITLES: 521~-The Mysterious Stranger; or, Nick Carter’s Com- plex Case, 522—The White Arm of a Woman; or, Nick Carter’s i Desperate Chase. 523—The Man in the Doorway; or, Nick Carter’s Con- quest of a Castle. 524—The Plot of the Baron; or, Nick Carter’s Telling Strategy. 525—The Passenger on the Night Local; or, Nick Car- ter’s Perfect Disguise. 526—A Double Mystery; or, Nick Carter’s Strong-hand Play. 527—Clarice, the Countess; boat Chase. / 528—Clarice, the Woman Detective; or, Nick Carter's Titled Assistant. 5290-—The Index of Seven Stars; or, Nick Carter Finds the Hidden City. 530—An Amazonian Queen; or, Nick Carter Becomes a Gladiator. 531—A_ Blackmailer’s Palaice: or, Nick Carter Dis- covers the Hidden Hand. ~ $17—Doris, ihe Unknowns of Nick Carters Bindiaid | 532—Gipsy Madge, the Blackmailer; or, Nick Carter’s First-class Bluff. 533—Facinge an Unseen Terror; or, Nick Cn Day of Blunders. - 534—Idayah, the Woman of Mystery; 0 or, Nick Carter’s Fourfold Problem. 53 a Making of a King: or, Nick Carter ee His Greatest Mystery. If you want any~back numbers of our ibrane and cannot procure them from your newsdealess, they can be obtained from this office divect. Postage stamps taken the same as money. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Avenue, NEW YORK cae or, Nick Carter s Motor- i: ling Man’s Bad Mistake: | ISSUED EVERY. THURSDAY. B BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVERS | plains. Diamond Dick ae his son, Battic, are true men. of. ‘the Western They are noble-hearted fellows who don’t i impose on the weaker [) man and who don’t let anyone else do it if they can help i fh § You ought to read how they clean up a mining camp a the ae t honest gamblers and other foughs who oe prey on a uneducated _ miners. PRICE FIVE CENTS PER COPY » For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, by the publishers to any address upon receipt of price in money or na stamps HERE ARE oe 512—Diamond Dicks in the Saddle ; or, The Secret ‘of the _ Steel Glove. — F 513—Diamond Dick’s Greatest pei: : Hobo of Death Valley. 514—Diamond Dick’s; Outlaw Duel; or, The Bronco- buster of the Pecos. 515—Diamond Dick’s Mystic Mark; or, The Haha! ker- i _ chief Man’s Vendetta. fF 516—Diamond Dick’s Race Riot; or, A Hot Brush in Mexico. 517—Diamond. Dick’s Ghostly Round-up; or, The Phan- tom Steer of K-Bar-6. 518—Diamond Dick’s Big Drive; Down in a Blizzard. 519—Diamond Dick’s Trail of Vengeance; or, Tracked to the Rio Grande. 520—Diamond Dick Holds ‘the Fort) “or, , Along the Big River. . 521—-Diamond Dick’s ‘Steel Glove; or, , The Smiling Man a oo Brom Santa We. 5§22—Diamond Dick’s No- -namie ee Os, (ine. Srii- or, The Strange or Holding /Lhem Biot Wor k 523-—Diamond Dick’s © Midnight. Snonedes _ot, . The _ Horse-thieves of the Cimarron. 524—Diamond Dick’s Forlorn Hope; or, The Siege of Adobe Castle, . 525—Diamond Dick’s Night Watch; or, ‘The Pretty Girl of Falling Rock. 526—Diamond Dick’s Three To One; or, Backed By Uncle Sam, | _ $27—Diamond Dick’s Golden Coe or, The Secret oF iy -. Snake River.. a 528—Diamond Dick’s Long ee or, ee ~ Against a Giant. THE LATEST. TITLES: | 529--Diamond Dick’s Heiress Hunt; ot, A Dash Through the Big Divide. } mee 530—Diamond Dick at the Vhrottle; Headlight of Hoodoo Pass. 531—Diamond Dick’s Hobo. Trail; the Long Blue Scar. 532—-Diamond Dick’s Black Sign; or, A Strange Battle with a Dead Man. $33--Diamond Dick’s Queer Rebuke; or, Giving a Les- son to a “Bad Man.”.. * 534——Diamond Dick’s Night Ride; or, The Worth. of a Thoroughbred Pard. — ; §35—Diamond Dick on an Indian Trail; Or, ‘The Venge- ance of a Navaho. 536—Diamond Dick in Arizona ; sport of Grand) Ganon. 2 537—-Diamond Dick Over the Rio Grandes or, A. Aunt for a Girl Through Mexico. - 538—Diamond Dick’s Shower of a or, The Princess of the Montezumas. — - 539—Diamond Dick Below the Line; or, An American Against Big Odds. : 540—Diamond Dick on Shipboard ; Ory Blocking a Slick Game. s41—Diamond Dick’s Wide Loops or, | Roping ee at One Throw. © 342-—Diamond Dick’s Royal Foe; or, ‘The Strange Pas: sage Of the Sania Cruz. 543—Diamond Dick’s College Scrap On A Battle toe His Alma Mater. or, The Ghostly or, ‘The Man with pire © Foolhardy 544—Diamond Dick in the Deep Snows ; or, A Cae Call on the Yukon. 545—Diamond Dick’s Merciless Trail; or, The ye Ras- ~ ~eals of White Horse. If you want any oe aoe of our libraries and cannot procure them fon your news- dealers, they can be obtained from this office direct. STREET & SMITH, Publ lishers, 29 ‘Seventh Avenue, NEW YORK CITY. Postage stamps taken the same as money. : Presse Str aca ie SE Po aa ISSUED EVERY FRIDAY | HAN DSOME COLORED COVERS "Never bas Burt L. Standish written aut intebeating tales of the adventures of the Merriwell brothers, Prank and Dick, as are now appear- ing in this weekly. he is putting forth his best efforts to amuse and entertain them. you have no idea of what a grand feast he is preparing for you, Mr, Standish has a world-wide circle of friends and Boys, Tip Top’s stories are going to astonish you. Do not fail to buy this library. PRICE FIVE CENTS PER COPY For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, by the publishers upon receipt of price in money or postage stamps HERE ARE THE 539—Dick Merriwell’s Check; or, The Hot Bunch From Happy Camp. 540—Dick Mee Sacrifice ; or, Team Work That Told. 541—Dick Merriwell’s Heart; Luck Streak. 542—Frank Merriwell’s New Auto; Destruction. 543—Frank Merriwell’s Pride; at Pineville. 544—Frank Merriwell’s Young Winners; in the Blue Hills. 545—Dick Merriwell’s Lead; or, Bound to Hold First Place. 546—Dick Merriwell’s Influence; or, On the Right Road At Last. 547—Dick Merriwell’s Top Notch; or, Against Odds, Fate, and Scheming. 548—Frank Merriwell’s Kids; or, The World Beaters In New York. 549—Frank Merriwell’s Kodakers; or, Game Without Guns. 550—Dick Merriwell, Freshman; or, First Days at Yale. 5§51—Dick Merriwell’s Progress : or, The First Chance on the Field. 552—Dick Merriwell, Half-back; or, Getting into the Game at Last. 553—Dick Merriwell’s Resentment; or, In Defense of His Honor. 554—Dick Merriwell Repaid; or, The Heart of Officer _ Maloney. or, Beste the Hard or, The Tee to or, The Double-Header “or, The Stars Hunting Big LATEST | 565—Frank Merriwell’s Horse; or, TITLES: 555—Dick Merriwell’s Staying Power; or, The Great Game at New Haven. .« 550—Dick Merriwell’s “Push”; or, The Victim of the “Flying Mare.” 557—Dick Merriwell’s Running; or, The Meet at Me- chanics’ Hall. 558—Dick Merriwell’s Joke; or, Fun with the Jumping Frenchman. 559—Dick Merriwell’s Seven; or, The Scrub That Made the Regulars “Go Some.” 560—Dick Merriwell’s Partner; lexas, 561—Dick Merriwell in the Tank; or, Rushing the Regu- lars at Water Polo. 562—Frank Merriwell’s Captive; or, The Folly of Ches- ter Arlington. or, The Boy from 563—Frank Merriwell’s Trailing; or, The Flight oF a Fool. 564—Frank Merriwell’s Talisman ; or, The Charm of 2 Cocheta. tie Boy Who Would Be Bad.- 566—Frank Merriwell’s Intrusion; or, Warner, the Man a Who Won. 507—-Frank Merriwell’s Bluff; or, The Lost Sefiorita oF £ Pn Sonora. 568—Dick Merriwell’s Regret; or, The Friend He Never Knew. 569—Dick Merriwell’s Silent Work; ae A Helping | Hand fora Foe. _If you want any back numbers of our libraries and. cannot procure them from yout coe oa can be obtained from this office direct. Postage stamps taken the same as money. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 19 Seventh svete, NEW YORK cry. } } i f t a ee Ee |] THE FAVORITE LIST | OF FIVE-CENT LIBRARIES Buffalo Bill Stories Buffalo Bill is the hero of a thousand exciting adven- tures among the Redskins. These are given to our boys only in the Buffalo Bill Stories. They are bound to interest and please you. eu Se RIDER WEERLY DIAMOND DICH WEEKLY Ted Strong was appointed deputy mar- shal by accident, but he resolves to use his authority and rid his ranch of some very tough bullies. He-does it in such a slick way that everyone calls him ‘‘King of the Wild West” and he certainly deserves his title. $100 in cash are given to the readers of this publication, Buy.a copy and learn how to come in for a share of it. The demand for stirring stories of Western adventure is admir- ably filled by this library. Every up-to-date boy ought to read just how law and order are estab- lished and maintained on our Western plains by Diamond Dick, Bertie, and Handsome Harry. MIGHT AND MAIN These are stories of the adven- tures of boys who succeeded in, climbing the ladder of fame by honest effort. No more inter- esting tales can be imagined. Each number is at least one-third longer than the ordinary five- cent library. NICK CARTER WEEKLY We know, boys, that there is | no need of introducing to you Nicholas Carter, the greatest | sleuth that ever lived. Every | number containing the adven- tures of Nick Carter has a peculiar, | but delightful, pow of fascina- tion. BRAVE AND BOLD Every boy who prefers variety in his reading matter, ought to be a reader of Brave and Bold. All these were written by authors who are past masters in the art of telling boys’ stories. Every tale is complete in itself. TOWEL BOY LIBRARY The adventures of a poor waif Whose’ only name is ‘‘Bowery Billy.” Billy is the true product of the streets of New York. No} boy can read the tales of his trials without imbibing some of that resource and courage that makes | the character of this homeless boy | stand out so prominently. both clean-cut, consequences. The Tip Top Weekly Frank Merriwell and his brother Dick are known and loved by over one hundred and fifty thousand of the best boys in the United States. They are vigorous fellows who dare to do right no matter what the Get the current number. We are sure you will like it.