56 1914 9 a = =] md = WN S == No. ‘ ny | r ; im . j + steamshi day Gomoy low 4 rN IO BUEN FED 5 maa OLE BERTIE LNT EE PERLE TIT aa aa SR ee EET 2 ¢ nf | oT : An Ideal Publi Y a . ry eal Publication For The American Youth ‘issued Weekly. Entered as Second-class Matter at the New York Post Office, according to an act of Congress, March 3, 1879. Published by ; STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Ave., New York. Copyright, 1914, by STREET & SMITH. O. G. Smith and G. C. Smith, Proprietors. ‘ % Terms to NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY Mail Subscribers. How to Send Money—By post-office or express money order, regis- (Postage Free.) tered letter, bank check or draft, at ourrisk. At your own risk ifsent ; Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Bach. by currency, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter. 3 months,..... Teves ecervesies 65, One year . 2... o.00e jp dbaead cvibas $2.50 Receipts—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper 4 MOMNEHS,.--seresereeseessoes + 85c. 2 copies ONG Year -.s.+.+ soeeeeee 4.00 change of number on your label. If not correct you have not been ‘ DB WRITE co 880i acces cise dcoee $1.25 1 copy two years..........seeee+ 4.00 properly credited, and should let us know at once. L No. 102. NEW YORK, July 11, 1914. Price Five Cents. 6 ® . | Dick Merriwell’s Torquoise Tussle; By BURT L. he CHAPTER I. i AN OLD FOE IN A NEW PLACE, The small dark man walking softly to and fro in the sunlit patio had the military erectness of the trained Be soldier. Deftly rolling a cigarette, he lighted it with a y quick-match touch without halting his stride. The patio eee was littered with cigarette stubs and burned-out matches. Ht A frown was on the man’s forehead and an unpleasant look was in his luminous dark eyes. At times the eyes | _——s narrowed, the man’s features twisted as if the muscles w, ; had been seized with a spasm, his slender, nervous fingers c twitched. In the center of the patio a tiny fountain tinkled, and about it a few flowers bloomed. Farther out the patio was but a foot-beaten square of dusty earth. Round the patio were the four walls of a large adobe house, of the kind common in old Santa Fe. As the little man thus walked and mused, frowned and grimaced, while he rolled and smoked innumerable ciga- réttes, a door in one of the walls darkened, and another man entered, -“Ah, Eugenio!” he cried, rushing forward with ex- tended hand. “It is here that I find you at last, after I have searched Santa Fe from plaza to outermost dust heap.” “Felipe !” Striking hands together, the men drew aside, into a corner of the patio that held a rustic bench; there they sat down, talking in the rapid Spanish fashion, but in ~ . low tones. “You have been going about inquiring for Eugenio -Duranzo?” “Who else?” - “For the present, miy'dear Felipe, 1 1? am Rafael Reyes.” Hy. \ Or, THE FIGHT FOR THE MINE. “he walked round the patio. Into the open doorways a ag a STANDISH. He shrugged and smiled. “Yet it does not matter. I am preparing to cast the disguise aside, since it serves me now to do so. But I wonder that the servant at the door let you in, when you asked for Eugenio Duranzo. Also, how you knew I was in this house piques my curiosity.” “Ah,” said Felipe, showing his white teeth in a pleased smile, “nothing presented less of difficulty. You were a lieutenant at the military post here. This morning, as I prosecuted my search for you, it occurred to me that you had been in the American army, and stationed here, 3 and that I should do well if I pushed my inquiries in % that quarter. I thought you would have made a visit Z there. An old dog likes his old kennel.” “Not when he has been kicked out of it,” said Eugenio, with a harsh laugh. “You went to the post?” “I was going. Then I met one of the troopers, whom I knew, and did not go farther; but questioned him in the street. He had seen you in town, and at this house —the home of Ramon Ruiz, the genealogist—and he thought you were stopping here as Ruiz’s guest. So here I came—asking for Eugenio Duranzo.. As to how Ruiz’s house servant gained the knowledge that Rafael — Reyes was Duranzo—trust a servant to know everything. © Yet the rascal would have held the door against me, — and lied it out, had I not slipped into his itching palm an American silver piece. It is a key that opens many doors. So here I am, my good friend; and here you are; and the matter that brought me here you know— though I proceed to set it forth.” ¥ “But hold,” said Duranzo, “rapid speech oft brings swift repentance. That servant already knows too much, by far; and there are others. Besides, walls have ears. He glanced about cautiously, and above. Getting u } Me thrust his ‘black head. Then he climbed to the gallery. | _ Returning at length, satisfied that he and his companion ~ could converse without being overheard, he rolled an- other cigarette, and sat down once more on the bench. _ Felipe Estavan, accepting paper and tobacco, also | rolled a cigarette. Then they were ready to talk. “That you are here, Felipe, is to me the astonishing thing; we were to have met in El Paso, or Juarez. But you knew I was here—if you received my letter.” “Your letter stated that you would stop here briefly, but it did not say that you would come on immediately to El Paso, Therefore, I was sent here hurriedly to meet you. I am a courier from General Villa himself; who. wills that you shall be in Mexico as speedily now as possible. He needs you—needs your new explosive at once; a delay may be fatal to his plans. “So,” gesticu- lating and twisting his shoulders, “here I am.” Eugenio Duranzo glanced at him through narrowed eyelids. Felipe was young, as was Duranzo—that is to say, they were under twenty-five years of age. They were much alike, too—slender, dark, Spanish. Both were South Americans. But they were not related. | “Was General Villa’s haste tipped with silver—like the key of the door servant. yonder? My invention, as I wrote to you, is for. sale.” i “You chose to loiter in the United States, to make your services and your invention seem more valuable?” said Felipe. “One thousand dollars was what I brought out of Juarez; one thousand dollars, or, rather, its paper equivalent. I have it here, in American bank notes; less than five hundred dollars American, after the ex- change. But there are more house owners and rich hacienderos whom Villa can squeeze, and he will do. so. - This was got together hurriedly; so is a small. sum, as I know, and regret.” — . “Look, you,” said. Duranzo; “we are good friends, and I will speak my thought. You have thrown in your mite with General Villa and the Mexican revolutionists. As for me,” he shrugged again, “I care not for them, any more than I care for the. present government at Mexico City. I would help either of them, with my invention, - for money 5, but not for any petty sum like one thousand dollars in Mexican money, Does Villa think I am a beggar, that he should ask it? As for the money, he will pay. me when he has me down there, and in his power— perhaps it. would be a bullet, and not money, if I did not do his will! Yet I will accept, as an advance, that which you bring me,’ “And go with me to El Paso without delay? That is the“ important thing. At El Paso can be bought the materials you will need for your war bombs and ex- ‘plosives. Villa. is short of explosives; there are bridges o be blown out, earthworks to destroy, buildings to be ‘demolished. He has only gunpowder, most of it in the hape of cartridges. Also, he is planning an aérial fleet. “F assured him that one of your bombs, no larger than an egg, dropped from a height into 2 camp or fort, would do a work of destruction such as has never been known in warfare, He wishes to see it tested.” Eugenio Duranzo sat in thought, then sli exhaled mouthful of cigarette smoke. Oo, Felipe,” he. said. “I will take your money, to p. me get ‘together material, here. Some of it I will : ings as CE ed in about a bape I have eo NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. two bombs here that I will give you now, and Villa can test them on houses or bridges. But for the present “You will not go? “Right now I have another duck to strangle. again, while I tell you about it.” Felipe’s supple tongue ran, volubly, but in vain, while they rolled: cigarettes. “You do not know Dick Merriwell personally, yet you know that he was in our native Valdivia, and took part in the revolution there which brought about the ruin of the fortunes of my family. You may not know that, later, he and I came into conflict at West Point. Now he is here. We have been together, yet he has not recognized me. The duck I am to strangle is Dick Merriwell.” But, my dear Eugenio—~”’ Smoke CHAPTER II, RUPERT HAMPTON, When the Santa Fe train, up from the main line, rolled into the station at Santa Fe, Dick Merriwell was on the station platform, with Brad Buckhart, watching closely the few passengers who alighted. - “There he is—sure as horned toads,” said Brad; “Eng- lish-beefsteak complexion, suit of clothes made in deah old Lunnon, manner of a jook—and a nigger to carry his baggage. Buck up!” Dick laughed. Together they advanced on the English-looking gentle- man, who now stood on the platform, glancing about, his negro servant standing by him with a suit case. Cabmen and hotel runners were shouting at them “Mr. Rupert Hampton, I presume?” said Dick. ‘Dick Merriwell.” The Englishman’s face lost its anxious expression. “T was looking for a much older man,” he explained, glancing into Dick’s fresh and almost boyish face. “I assure you, I am glad to meet you. I received your — telegram in Kansas City.” Es Dick presented Buckhart. fe “Matters have taken a strange course here,” said Hamp- ton; “I am bewildered by it. You have no information yet, I think, of the identity of the man who palmed himself on you in my name; then turned out to be a thief, and was killed by himself in the struggle that was made to capture him?” “You may ‘be able to identify bitte ‘But at 2 guess, said Dick, “I should say. that he was the man who robbed you of your money and papers, while you were on your way from Chicago; and, further, that he must have known of your intention to investigate Marcus Day’s turquoise mine. When he came to me and repre- sented himself as Rupert Hampton, show me, establishing his identity, papers when he robbed you.” “Very. plausible, and no doubt true. Unfortunately, I did not see. the man who robbed me on the train. Who- | ever he was, he is dead, poor fellow.” Fa Dick beckoned to a cabman. “Tam > He secured those — “Tt. will be well, perhaps, unless you have planned other wise,, for. you to.go .to the hatel where I have a room,” he said. “We can then be in close. -communication, and talk, readily over your plans,” . “You. ere -scen. this furaupise:. mine, Mr. Merriwell he had papers to a : No doubt he intended to meet me and slay me; then con- ae asked Hampton, after he had been tucked into the cab, and Dick with Brad were in the seat opposite. “I got that impression from your wire.” “IT have visited it, but I have not investigated it,” Dick explained. “The man I supposed was Hampton wished to have Day’s specimen turquoises brought into Santa Fe, to be inspected by experts. So we set out to do that. On the way the man stole the turquoises from Day, to- gether with another, a very large one, and tried to escape on one of the camp horses. We ran him down. In the struggle to capture him, he turned his weapon on himself unintentionally, and was killed.” “It was a mighty close call, too, for the girl he was fighting with,” said Buckhart. “He was fighting with a girl?’ “With Miss June Arlington, who chanced to be with our party at the time,” Dick explained, “She had gone with the small party that was in pursuit. The fellow we have been calling Hampton jumped out of his hiding place, seized her, and tried to use her as a-shield. That was the situation when his revolver was discharged.” Dick bored his elbow into Buckhart’s side, as a warn- ing to him to be careful. Why was it necessary for Brad to bring June Arlington into the story? “A very unpleasant position for the young lady,” Hampton commented. “Very,” Dick assented. “And dangerous,” said Brad; struggled there, and June would have got the bullet that finished Hampton—I mean the fellow that we thought was you. Glad to know that you don’t resemble him in the least; he was white-eyed, like a shying, treacherous horse. The minute I set my eyes on him, I knew I wasn’t going to like him. And every time afterward, when I was near, him, I wanted to lift up my feet and kick him all over the ground.” “White-eyed,” said Hampton, himself. He raised his voice. “Gentlemen, I know who the man was. I am sorry to say he was my cousin, Her- bert Strange—if I am not mistaken. I haven’t seen him for two or’ three years. But he was here in the States about a year ago, as information has led me to believe; I think at that time he was in the Western city of Den- ver, He was a younger son, and-a scapegrace, and he narrowly escaped a prison term in England.” Rupert Hampton, leaning back against the cushion as the cab jolted and rocked along, seemed to be consider- speaking as though to ing this matter, for he closed his eyes. “Yes,” he said, at length, speaking to Dick, “I am sure now that your conjecture that he robbed me in the train was right. He knew about recent events in Eng- land, with which I was connected; and from the letters and papers he secured from my pockets he learned that I was on my way to Santa Fe to investigate this particu- lar turquoise mine; and that you, Mr. Merriwell, were to head the work, as the representative of the Merriwell Company. He had all the knowledge he needed to enable him to meet you, present credentials, and deceive you as to his identity.” For another minute he was silent. “I can see that I have escaped a great peril,” he added. _ “Once he swore that he would have my life, bécause I had turned against him. I begin to believe that here, in this Western country, he meant to make that threat good. “another turn, as they Sn NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. 3 tinue the deception, and take the mine as his own. He was always a thief. Perhaps toward the end he began to doubt his ability to put this plan through, for there would have been the handicap of a lack of ready money; so he seized the turquoises, and made off with them. He was always a good deal of a fool, in spite of his rascally cleverness. So Herbert is dead; it must have been Herbert!” “As Day is here with his sample turquoises, we cat take them now to the experts here, and learn their probable value,” Dick advised. “We can get at the value of the mine, with that as a basis. I shall want to blow out some of the porphyry, to ascertain how the turquoises run through it; and I shall also want to send a diamond drill through the walls, and: down through the porphyritic extension. With a diamond drill we can ascertain the extent of the porphyry very readily, I think. That may necessitate a camping stay of a num- ber of days, perhaps weeks, at the mine itself.” “IT am in your hands,” said Hampton. “I find that the Merriwell Company has the highest indorsements. As soon as we reach your hotel, I shall be most happy to convince you that I am the real Rupert Hampton; though how I am to prove to you that I, too, didn’t steal my papers from some one, is beyond me.” Hampton secured a room at the hotel that adjoined Dick’s ; and, as Brad was right across the hall, they were close together. At the undertaker’s, Hampton identified the body shown him as that of his cousin, Herbert Strange; and, even though Strange had been a disgrace to his family and an all-around scoundrel, Hampton made arrange- ments for a decent burial of the body in a Santa Fe cemetery, and for the erection of a stone. That evening he cabled the news to England. Brad Buckhart was not a little amused, on returning to his hotel, to find Hampton's negro servant gray with superstitious terror. “Say, boss,” he said, “you tell me-’bout dis, will ye? I ain’t sho dat I done got it straight. Fust off, on my way heah, I done los’ my rabbit foot; dat was about halfway tuh Kansas City. The ve’y nex’ night, as we was ’proachin’ Kansas City, Misteh Hampton los’ his pocketbook an’ his papehs. Now I lissened to you talkin’ *bout anotheh man of de same Hampton name bein’ shot an’ killed. I dunno if I’m gwine stay heah or not, after dis. Huccome dat otheh man be Rup’t Hampton, too? Dat’s what I want tuh know. You splain it.” Brad explained. “I'm ‘ployed in Chicago by Misteh Hampton to go’ wid him, And heah I am. Now I done los’ my rabbit foot. If I had stayed in Chicago I wouldn’t los’ it. Maybe Misteh Hampton—dis second Misteh Hampton—he gwine tuh be killed, too. Dis is a wile country down heah, boss! Say, I already done seen Injuns right in de streets o” dis town.” Brad laughed again. “Oh, those are only Pueblos.” “Dey ain’t Injuns?” “Yes; but they’re peaceable Indians; they’re farmers, — and they cut wood out on the hills and bring it in here to' sell. They :wouldn’t hurt a flea.” “But, boss, dey might hurt a ‘nigger. cans I see round all de time. dey sho does,’ boss.” An’ dese Mexi- Dey looks like Injuns, too; NEW TIP. “TOP” WEEKLY: “Vou'll get used to them.” “No, suh, Boss, dar’s gwine be trouble. stayed in Chicago.” Il wish I’d CHAPTER IIT. TAKING THE MINE. Felipe having departed, Eugenio Duranzo continued his walk to and fro in the patio of Ramon Ruiz. Duranzo felt that the tide of his fortunes had turned. Since his entrance into Santa Fe he had met only treachery and defeat. Herbert Strange, who was then posing as Rupert Hampton, he had known in Denver, where they had worked together as a pair of rascals and confidence men. Duranzo met Strange in Santa Fe ie chance. Then, as it seemed that Strangé could use him, he had become Strange’s secretary, and stood ready to forward his em- ployer’s interests in any rascally way that he could. That Strange was pitted in a contest of wits against Dick Merriwell was the pleasantest thing about it, to Duranzo, But Strange had proved treacherous. He had robbed Duranzo of a fine turquoise, that Duranzo had himself stolen from Brad Buckhart, by clever pocket picking, as Brad lay asleep—~—a turquoise that belonged to June Arling- ton. Worse even than this—Strange had choked Duranzo senseless, tied him up like a bale of hay, and thrust a dirty gag into his mouth. The man who had done that was now dead. Dick Merriwell was living, prosperous, and successful Duranzo wanted to strike at Merriwell. But he was cautious. He did not intend to run his head into a noose. Besides, there were more and better ways of getting revenge than by violent and murderous ones. _ Eugenio Duranzo had intended to stop but a day or two in Santa Fe, on his way from Denver to Mexico, whither he was going for the purpose of selling to Gen- eral Villa a new explosive of his invention. For a long time explosives had been Duranzo’s hobby and study. Then he had seen Dick Merriwell, and he had tarried. Now Fate, or Fortune, had apparently thrown into his hands a means of defeating Dick Merriwell in the work he at present had his heart in. Duranzo was thinking of this, and planning, as he turned to and fro in the old patio, rolling and smoking his cigarettes. “Tt will be revenge, and it will be fortune,” he mut- tered, “But I must not delay. Even now perhaps Hamp- ton is here, and Merriwell will be moving.” — Whenever Eugenio Duranzo had work to perform or revenge to stir him, no restless American could be more active. . Having determined on his course, he hastened away to the office of Ramon Ruiz, where he armed himself _ with certain documents that Ruiz furnished. Then he in every way. hurried out, and began to secure men and horses, and got together an equipment for the. trail. The money that his friend Felipe had brought him bine used freely. It had come as a godsend. He could _ not have hired men and horses and purchased . supplies _ otherwise. _ By midday, Eugenio’s party, quietly collected, as quietly acct from the old town, and taking the trail that ed toward the Los Cerillos Mountains, it hurried away. Pushing on through the afternoon and the larger part £ the ied, Parioz's party was within striking ille- tance of Marcus Day’s turquoise mine when it went into camp. The next morning Duranzo moved upon the mine. Day had left in charge there a man named Robinson, a hard-eyed man of much mining experience; and with Robinson there were three laborers. Robinson had horses and a camping outfit, and his men were in their tents before the mine, when Duranzo’s force came up. Robinson, peacefully smoking his pipe before his tent, regarded: them with curiosity that had in it no forebod- ing. He had seen many such parties trailing through the Western mountains, in his time. He did not dream _that the mine he was guarding was their destination. Duranzo’s methods called for craft always, before re- sorting to force. So, drawing up there, he swung down from his saddle, and engaged Robinson in conversation. His men began to dismount, appearing to be glad of a chance to stretch their legs. And soon Robinson and his men were all talking with the strangers. “What sort of mine have assuming ignorance. “Oh, you hadn’t heard of it?” said Robinson. “Well, it’s a world beater; an old turquoise mine that Injuns once worked, and that they covered up when the Span- iards came into this country. Then it was forgot. Any- how, that’s the way Day dopes it out. He’s the owner.” “A turquoise mine,” said Duranzo; “I never saw one!” “Turquoises ain’t got the value 0’ diamonds, you know —nor em’ralds and rubies,” said Robinson; “but if you've got a wagonload of ’em, why——” “A wagonload !” “A dozen carloads, I bet ye—right in this mine; they're all through the porph’ry, like plums in a puddin’. As 1 said, it’s a world beater.” “T should like to see it.” Robinson glanced round, cautious-eyed. “You're out lookin’ for silver indications?” he asked, “Yes, that’s our idea,” Duranzo assured. “T didn’t know, from the looks, but you had found — and located a claim, and was goin’ out to do work on it; fellers don’t usually go prospectin’ with a campin’ crowd like that; been out months at a time, by myself.” “And found. mines?” said Duranzo. “T can see that you’re ignorant,” said Robinson; “if I'd: found any mines wuth namin’, and had kept ’em, I _ wouldn’t be workin’ here for five dollars a day and found; and that’s the pay I’m gettin’ » Day’s a good man, yet he ain’t none too liberal.” Duranzo’s eyes glittered with a new thought. “You wouldn’t join me, if I doubled that figure, Bt; suppose ?” Robinson merely glanced at him, and resumed his. smoking. “Not until he comes back—for a hundred a day. He has left me in charge here.” A “T can see that you’re a good man, and I’d like to em- ploy you,” said Duranzo, flattering. ; He spoke of the weather and the trails, asked savice. about camping, and information of good catnping places, “Before we go on, I’d like to see this turquoise mine,” he said finally; “we might happen on rurauoise-bearing rock, and I'd like to be able to identify it.” ea “Can't do it, stranger,” said Robinson, unmoye — you here?” Duranzo asked, generally, a man sets out alone. I've 3? q r i -yalue of the mine was an important matter, found. But the camping was a delight; “You refuse to let us look at it?” Duranzo affected astonishment. “Ag’inst orders,” Robinson explained. “I’m to set here and guard this hole until Day gets back.” Duranzo had done much shrugging, in the Mexican - fashion; he talked with hands and body, as well as with his lips. Now his shoulders came in two successive shrugs, like the quick archings of the back of a cat. His waiting men, seeing his signal, threw themselves suddenly on Robinson and his companions. It was but the work of a minute. Robinson was not looking for an attack. The stool on which he sat went over, tumbling him to the ground; and a Mexican lariat was being coiled round him almost before he knew what had happened. As he struggled see the pinioning rope, his bellow of rage arose. “Softly, my good friend,” said Duranzo; too much, we may take the notion of windpipe!” Fiercely Robinson demanded to know why he was so treated. Duranzo shrugged again. “The reason,” he said, and he began to roll a cigarette— “my good friend, the reason is this: I am the real owner of this mine!” “if you howl slitting your CHAPTER IV. NINE POINTS OF THE LAW. Traveling leisurely, Dick Merriwell’s party occupied two days in its journey to the mine. The party was not large, but it was unwieldy, There was a train’ of pack animals with camp equipage and supplies. Lashed to stout mules was a small gas engine in sections and a diamond drill; also dynamite, with caps and fuse, and axes, spades, and picks, with other mining tools. Dick was prepared to remain at the mine a number of days, perhaps weeks. The estimation of the probable So he de- termined to know what was in it, from its opening to the farthest | reaches of its porphyry, The Merriwell Com- pany—and Dick was its representative here—had been retained by Rupert Hampton for that express purpose. In addition to Hampton and Marcus Day, June Arling- ton was with the party, and June’s friend, Mrs, Olive Oliver, of. Santa Fe. Then there were the servants: -June’s and Mrs. Oliver’s, in addition to the cooks and the regular camp attendants. Also, there was Brad Buckhart. Last, though far from least in his own estima- tion, was Hampton’s man, from Chicago, “Misteh Alonzo Johnsing,” temporarily covered with gloom and forebod- ing because he had lost his rabbit foot. The camp, at the end of the first day, was pitched be- side the famous old and abandoned turquoise mine, twenty miles out from Santa Fe, in the Los Cerillos Mountains. Here the entire party went , “prospecting” down in the depths of the old mine, searching for tur- quoises, each single member of the party apparently hop- _ ing to find a turquoise to match the magnificent one that - June had turned up there not many days before, and at her throat. nothing was though, per- haps, an exception should be made in favor of the negro, which she now was wearing on a gold chain - Aside from a few worthless specimens, NEW, TIP TOR WEEKLY. Johnson, who turned his: eyes rather anxiously on the hills as night came down and the coyotes began there their unearthly yelping. At the end of the next afternoon Dick’s party came up to the mine that had been found and claimed by Marcus Day. And as they drew in the sight of its entrance, the discovery was made that here something was wrong. Instead of seeing Robinson sitting before the mine, a small dark man was seated there; and above him flew a flag that showed a blood-red star on a white ground. “Hello,” Day grunted, jerking his horse to a stop; “what’s up now?” | The entire party drew rein.. The seated man seemed not to notice them, but calmly shook tobacco into cigarette paper, and rolled a cigarette. “Why,” cried Dick, staring, “the fellow is Rafael Reyes !” “Ts that who it is?” Day growled. He’s preparin’ to get hurt.” He drove his horse on, and the others clattered on. with. him. “Here,” he yelled, his face working with anger, as he drew his horse down before the mouth of the mine, “What's he mean? | “what you doin’ here, anyhow? Or, do you know? What’s the meanin’ o’ that flag? And where is — Robinson ?” “T know I didn’t— [ was You see, | didn’t know just what was wanted Brad had started to his feet. ; ’ll go back and attend to that. The Mexicans didn’t follow us in. If they’re gone, I'll guard that end my- self, You and Day here.” Brad slipped away. “You remember, Day, what Duranzo said about pos- session being nine points of the law?” Dick reminded. “You’ve got possession now. He was in then, and you Stay were out. Now you are in, and he is out. Quite a turning of the tables.” The Mexicans outside were yelling. “Demanding our surrender,’ Dick added. “They're going to burn us out—starve us out—drown us out.” “They can’t do any of it,” said Day; “there’s nothin’ in here that will burn, but some bits of timberin’ that [ set in, and I'll gamble that Duranzo stored food and water in here, in addition to what I had already. Let ‘| "em howl. It don’t hurt us, and makes ’em feel better. q “Queer about that hole out there, leadin’ into the little cave. I didn’t know about it,” Day added, — a “The negro found it—opened it up with a spade— — while following what he said was a coon. He found a table in there——” “Mine,” said Day; “I stayed in there some while my men was timberin’ the mine and kickin’ up a dust. It was a little cubby-hole I was keepin’ private. I didn’t know it could be got into from the outsi¢ “There was a lamp on the table, and whi called a golf oa with an things. He threw. terrific explosion and tore the big hole you saw at the cafion’s bottom. The golf ball was a bomb. Of course, you, had none in there?” “Sure not.” “T knew it. That was one of Duranzo’s bombs.” “Duranzo’s! Great Jupiter! Do you allow he was preparin’ to blow up the mine?” ; “I think not. But he is a bomb fiend; the whole Duranzo family are affected in that way. They’re South American revolutionists, and the bomb is their weapon.” “Great cats!” ; é Another volley rattled against the door. : “Let ’em shoot,” Day grumbled; “they’re knockin’ off splinters, but the door is standin’ up to it, I wish we : had a light in here. That lamp-——” is “Better not light it; it is back in the cavern. We are better off without a light.” - “I dunno but you’re right. I always feel blind and — foolish when I can’t see what I’m doin’: But that bomb — business——- I wonder where Robinson and my men are?” “Possession is nine points of the law, ” said Dick; ‘ond now you are again in possession. But you've got to hold it. To do that, you will need men in here. Besides, I’m ’ growing anxious; so I’d like to go outside. I could then send men in and see how affairs are shaping in the camp. The young ladies there may need protection. Can you hold that door ?” “IT can,” said Day. “I got a pair of guns here, and I know how to use ’em. I’m not much on law knowl- edge; but one thing the laws says is: that a man has a right to defend his property. This is my property. If a men break down my door, I’ve a right to meet ’em in Ss .the doorway with bullets. If that door goes down, I'll ree block the hole that’s left by pilin’ up dead Mexicans in it. You hear me!” Day meant it. “I don’t think Duranzo will open up any murder game; not that he’s too good to do it, but he’d be afraid to do it. There’s white man’s law in this country, and he knows it. So, I think I can leave you. I want to see what Brad is doing, and I want to see what’s on in the camp.” “Look out for lead,” Day warned, as Dick moved off into the darkness. “If you stumble on Robinson, come back and tell me.” Brad was in the cavern, with his head out of the hole, looking at the negro and the Mexicans, with whom he te was talking, when Dick Merriwell appeared there. “Hello,” Brad cried, relief in his voice, “there’s some- thing going on down the slope, in addition to the shoot- ing at the entrance! Johnson is afraid to go down there and see what it is; and these Mexicans are a stupid set of pigs, and afraid, too.” “Day is holding the door at the entrance. to hold this place, Brad, “And get shot!” “Tll take the chance. Duranzo isn’t fool enough to - command his men to fire upon me. I’ve got to see June and Mrs. Oliver—see that they are safe.” “She ought to have gone back to Santa Fe with Hamp- ton,” Brad growled. “On this mountain, in the midst of a crazy } yb of greasers, is no place for a woman.” “You're - But they are here. I intend to I want you I’m going outside a‘ while.” right, Brad. protect them.” “Mrs. Oliver thought it would be interesting—if the Mexicans woke up. Hope she’s finding that it is,” Bud grumbled. “Well, look out for yourself,” As Dick moved off, Johnson followed him, and some of the Mexicans trailed behind Johnson. ‘Misteh Merriwell, suh,” Johnson appealed, “I’se gwine wid you.” : “Come along, then,” said Dick; “you’re not helping Brad any.” “Yes, suh, I’m comin’.” Anxious as Dick was to be moving, he stopped and waited for Johnson to come up with him. After all, he owed a good deal to Johnson. “The loss of your rabbit foot hasn’t brushed the golden dew off your luck, I take notice,” he said; “when you chased that coon and tried to dig it out, you threw on the table the card that .is winning the game. You're a lucky fellow, Johnson, and several people are going to be mighty grateful to you.” “Yes, suh; I hopes so. You didn’t see dat coon, Misteh Merriwell, suh?” “No,” “Nor dat robbeh man?” “No, I didn’t look for him, That hole leads into Day’s 14 | ee NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. mine. We've captured it—got Duranzo out of it; and now we're holding it. You played in the biggest kind of luck when you threw that golf ball into the cafion. The explosion shook up things so that Duranzo and his whole crowd came out of the mine to see what had ‘hap- pened. And while they were outside, we got in. See?” “Is dat de way de cat jump?” said Johnson, his eyes shining. “Only it was a coon!” “That’s the way it jumped.” “Glory !” CHAPTER IX, © DURANZO’S RAGE, Dick Merriwell met on the lower reaches of the slope, the men whose gathering had made Brad Buckhart anx- ious. They were of Duranzo’s crowd of Mexicans, and, after some hesitation, they were moving toward the cavern opening. They fingered their weapons nervously, when Dick ap- proached; then they began to shout questions to the Mexicans who had trailed behind him down the hill. Although they were armed, and in a corner would turn ugly, and become wild beasts when drunk, Dick did not fear them. He knew that Duranzo had picked them up in hasty fashion in Santa Fe, and he thought they could not be depended on. He listened to what they said. In that way he was convinced of what he had suspected: that Duranzo had awakened to the fact that the mine had been entered on the hillside; and now Duranzo had sent these men to see what could be done there. “Brad can stand them off,” he assured himself, and walked on. Johnson, who had stood shuffling his feet and rolling his eyes, was glad to be moving again. The Mexicans who had been following behind him, joined the others, and turned back. Duranzo, Dick now saw, was still at the mine entrance with several of his men, and, apparently, he was parley- ing through the closed door with Marcus Day. Dick hurried on to the camp. Only a man or two of the Mexican camp followers remained in it; but all the women were there, and they were all talking shrilly. June Arlington and Mrs. one of the tents. “Give an account of yourself, sir,” said Jane. “You have been gone a long time. We have been all but deserted here.” Her eyes were shining, her cheeks pale. As for Mrs. Oliver, she did not seem to have enjoyed the situation, in spite of the declarations she had made. She was almost as overjoyed as June, when Dick reappeared, “We thought you were in that fight at the mine,” June added. “I wanted to go up there, but Olive wouldn’t hear to it.” e “Have pity on us—and begin to talk,’ Mrs. Oliver urged; “can’t you see that we are dying for the news?” Dick gave them the news hurriedly. “You will stay in the camp now?” said June, anxious. “If it seems necessary—after I have had a talk with Duranzo.” “Why go up there into danger? You must stay here,” ae Oliver stepped out before Sa Neeee Ss: RS se See gt lenin gies, y : *y E sone “Duranzo isn’t idiot flag . There is no danger,’ said Dick; enough to harm me, if. k ask for a talk, under a of -truce.” “Duranzo is a madman,” said June. “Keep away from him. Remember how Porfirio Duranzo tried to kill you at Yale. This Duranzo:is as mad and bad as he was. Those Valdivians, when aroused, are rattlesnakes. I was tutions > with you in Valdivia, and I. know.” Nevertheless, Dick went. With a large white handkerchief /tied to the end of a a stick, he advanced on the mine éntrance, where Eugenio Duranzo stood with his Mexicans. i The shouting there stopped, aoe After a few moments, in» which he seemed hesitating, Duranzo détached himself from his followers,-and’ came slowly ‘down: the ‘slope. As -he-camie he tried to show nonchalance, and rolled and lighted a cigarette. ‘It was stuck. between his lips when he met Dick, who had stopped to await his coming, halfway. “You would see me?” said Duranzo. His face was a dirty-chalk color, his eyes narrowed and burning. When he spoke his lips twitched ‘and trembled. His looks were as venomous as June had ex- pectéd they would be. “T thought we might be able to-agree on a truce until Hampton returns from Santa Fe,” said Dick. “Another trick, eh?” snapped Duranzo. “Not at all.” “J do not trust you, AES So Rea tg ants eal seni tier tes, ewan Merriwell—you are treacherous, citement, just to draw me and my men out of the mine, so that you could rush in there in our absence. -We were fools enough to do it.” “That was one of your explosive bombs, Duranzo.” Duranzo’s eyes widened and_ stared. “One of my bombs?” “Just so. The negro we have with us, while digging after what he thought was a raccoon, struck his spade through into a-little cave; and that cave led into the mine. was a golf ball. He gave the supposed golf ball a trial toss when he was returning to the camp, and it went over into the cafion. That was some explosion, Duranzo! As a bomb maker, you.rose in my estimation, after that happened.” Duranzo choked’ and tore at -his collar; He seemed about to have a fit. \ “If I had thought of exploding dynamite ‘tis there to draw you out of the mine,” said Dick, “I admit I should have exhibited cleverness; but I never thought of it. I simply took advantage of it, after it occurred. But. that isn’t the point.” : “What is the point?” Duranzo sputtered. “The truce I suggested.” “With you and Day in possession of the mine?” Du- - ranzo screamed. “You ousted Day, and he has simply been reinstated. So:the position is now as at first. You understand that I am employed by Hampton. If on his return from Santa Fe he says that Day has no! legal rights here, - Hampton will go no further, and that finisheé my ‘work— or, rather, interrupts and ends it, .Can’t we agree on a truce until Hampton comes?” “Tf I wanted to do it, Merriwell, I wouldn’t—just _ because you ask it!” Duranzo flung his cigarette to the NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. Be You exploded dynamite in the cafion and stirred up. ex-~ In the cave was a table, and on it what he thought ' Buckhart. ui : Xe ground. “I'll fight you to.the- finish; I'll fight, Day, and Pil fight Hampton” — ae ig “Day is in the mine, and he is well armed. At the | other entrance Brad Buckhart is stationed, and he. is well armed, So, if you try to rush the mine, you will only get some of your men killed; perhaps be killed yourself.” ‘ Duranzo continued to rage. “There is law in this land. Let the law settle it,” Dick urged, “The law will settle it—yes! But before Hampton comes back I will be inside of that mine, dead or alive. You can’t work a trick like that on me, Merriwell, and | expect me to accept ay . “Tf it must be war, you will respect the rights of non- | combatants; by which I mean the. women and the serv- © ants in my. camp?” said Dick. ‘a “T will respect nothing!” Duranzo raged. “Very well,” said Dick, turning deathly white now. “J shall not trouble you—first. But if a rattlesnake strikes at me or at my friends——” Dick Merriwell turned away sentence, Instead of returning at once to the camp, where tank Arlington anxiously awaited: him, Dick hurried off toward the little cavern. He was uneasy over Brad’s position. Buckhart seemed to be taking the matter quietly, Dick saw when he drew near. Brad was sitting on a heap of stones he had piled up in the cavern, with his head and shoulders thrust out, and was parleying with the Mexi- cans. To enforce respect, a revolver lay withinreach of his hand. “I’ve been telling *em ‘in my best Spanish,” said Brad, as Dick came up, “that I’m awful good-natured when I ain’t riled; so I hope they won’t rile me, though I rile easy. “The leader was about to throw a knife into me, but when I pulled on him with my little old forty-four, he changed his mind. What’s doing at the other end of the wireless?” “Situation unchanged,” said Dick. the entrance door,” “The women’ are all scared up over the. outlook, of course. But there’s going to be no straight-out fighting. What I expect is treachery. It’s a good thing you don’t have to depend on Mexicans, Dick. For most of ‘your force seems to have joined: Duranzo’s; half these men _ here before us, as,you can see, are men belonging to your party. What do you think of it? And you can see why they have gone over.” It was all too apparent; they had joined Duranzo’s men because Duranzo’s men had liquor. It gave a sinister — look to the situation. -Duranzo was a rattlesnake, and generally a Mexican drunk is a devil. “You see why I am playing revolvers for trumps,” said Brad. Dick had thought of going on into the mine, to learn the situation from Day’s standpoint. He abandoned the notion. Duranzo had brought liquor from Santa Fe, and he was now apparently handing it out, both to raise the courage of his followers and to win away the allegi- ; ance of Dick’s. It was like touching fire to gunpowder, and was a fiendish thing to do. Instead of making an appeal to the Mexicans, dropped over into the’ spaded hole, alongside without finishing the “Day is still holding D ike ; Brad 16 NEW “I don’t like the looks of things,” he. said. “Nor I,” Brad agreed. “Heat a greaser up with ‘fire ’ water and he’s sure to reach the exploding point sooner or later, if the fuel supply holds out, Those fellows have been scared up to now—didn’t want to get shot; but by and-.by, when they’ve swallowed more of that red lightning, they won’t be afraid of anything. Duranzo’s planning something desperate when he begins to feed that kind of poison to them.” “My idea,” said Dick. He was quietly thinking, and the more he thought the less he liked the outlook. “Duranzo is\ now as mad as a stampeded steer—ready to run amuck and gore anything that’s before him,” Brad went on; “I knew he would be. So he intends to fight. He told you that possession was nine points of the law; by which I think he meant that it was ten points—all the law he had on his side. In spite of what he said in a way of bluff, I think he planned to hold up Hampton for a big sum of money, or more likely, hold up Day for it. You see, Day can’t afford to lose -time, if he hopes to sell to Hampton; the Englishman’ won't hang round here. always, and shoulder a_ fight, just to get.a look at this mine—which in the end you may advise him not to buy. Day has got to have an examination made, and sell to Hampton while the Eng- lishman is in the buying humor. If he doesn’t, he may look a long time before he finds another possible pur- chaser. So you see that, from Duranzo’s. viewpoint, Day ought to be willing to whack up a big sum to Duranzo to get out of the mine. But. if Duranzo is already out?” Brad flourished his hands. “Duranzo is out! So, what has he got to sell to Day? See? He’s got to get inside again,” , ; “Yes,” said Dick, his thoughts at the camp wisp June Arlington and Mrs, Oliver. “He can’t get in without fighting. So he is nding out the booze. Fill a Mexican to the neck with booze and he'll fight his weight in wild cats. I judge that’s the way General Vill4 is doing, from some reports that have come to me, Villa’s men have done some wild fighting; but it is said the backing has been largely*liquor, instead of patriotism. So long as these men keep sober, they'll take mighty few raw risks; they’ll stand back and pump lead into a door, but they’ll not chance close work. Get ‘em fighting drunk and they'll rip the door off its hinges, fill the entrance with half their number dead, and the others: will rush in on top of the bodies. I’ve seen that kind of fighting—and so have you, pard. We saw some of it down in Valdivia. It’s the Duranzo kind.” _ Brad’s mind had been heated by the fire of the situ- ation, and his tongue ran with the steadiness of a six- » cylinder touring car, Suddenly Dick started up, _ “Pm going back to the camp,” he said. place, Brad, if you have to hurt somebody.” _ “Tm the Texas longhorn that can do it,” said Brad, but without any thought of boasting, as his hand dropped _ to his ‘revolver. “Just take care of yourself, old man, and see that those girls aren’t harmed. Don’t . worry about me up here.” With a determined expression Dick Merriwell climbed “out of the hole. : The chattering Mexicans drew back to make way for him, Some of them eyed him as if they longed to run “Hold this TIP TOP WEEKLY, a knife into him, but no move did they make —— him. : With a cheery good-by ‘ad's a wave-of his tiand te: Briid Dick -hastened away. “The real goods,” said Brad, looking after him. ° “A king might be proud to call him chum. Will I ‘hold this place here—when he asks it? Will 1? Well, I guess, rather!” CHAPTER X. DICK MERRIWELL’S HEADWORK. Dick had expected treachery, for the name of Duranzo was its synonym; yet he had not expected that one of its driving forces would be the sinister inspiration of whisky, He was anxious to get back to the camp, scrape to- gether whatever fighting material he ;found there, and get the camp ready for defense. But he swung over toward the mine entrance as he went along, while he debated whether he should face Duranzo with his new information and give him a strong warning, or let it pass until later, His approach was not seen—he had not meant that it~ should be; and, in consequence, as he came up to the mine, he overheard Duranzo talking. Dick stopped abruptly and drew close against the rocks there; then he stood silent. Duranzo was still in a rage, yet he had tempered it so that ‘he could take stock of his position, Still, he was not very careful in his talk, Three men stood with him, and with these men he seemed to have been conferring. Dick’s heart gave a bound that seemed to throw it into his throat, when he caught the meaning of the con- versation; it concerned June Arlington, and a plan Du- | franzo was preparing to launch against her. “If we want to weaken Merriwell,” he heard Duranzo saying, “that’s the way it can be done. That young lady is the apple of his eye; he is in love with her and intends to marry her, I’ve heard. Capture her, and hold her somewhere; then say to Merriwell that she will be released only if he agrees to get out of here—out of this fight. It is none of his affair, and he’ll be glad to go.” Dick found himself trembling so, that it seemed the rock against which he was leaning shook. Apparently the means by which June’s capture was to be accomplished had been gone over. Dick could not hear all that was said, yet certain Mexican words float- ing to him made him fear once that already June had been captured, or else that the capture was to be attempted immediately. Dick began to slide backward over the ground, If seen there, an effort would be made to take him. He would be held, then, as well as June, in all probability. He was breathing heavily when he reached a point which he considered safe. But he did not stop there, . He backed still farther along; then he hurried across. to the rim of the cafion. Not desiring to be seen by any . one who stood at the mine entrance, he climbed down into the cafion. In this Way he made a wide detour, that brought him out not far from the camp, The cafion walls were not high there, so he had not much. trouble in ascending. He was delighted, on view-. ing the camp, to discover that apparently no change had’ taken place in it while he was gone. Cia eh NE as Laon enn tns y SA pe eee. is pas Se Sa = A +s Sas Pas ee tk: ag CEOS Se. j He hastened now across to the camp. : As he came out again into the open, and could look off at.the mine entrance, he beheld -Duranzo and. the three men in a group there, and close by them the other Mexicans, The attack on the door had failed, or tem- porarily spent itself. June met Dick at the camp entrance. The pallor of his face startled her. Before June could speak, to ask the reason, Olive Oliver appeared. “Here, you’ve been scaring us again,” said the voluble Mrs. Oliver. “Now, don’t say that you haven’t been gone long, for you know that you have! And that negro, Mr. Merriwell!” “What has he done?” said Dick. “He’s sitting over there, moaning; he says he has lost his rabbit foot, and he wants to go back to Chicago. Think of it—Chicago!” Dick forced a laugh. “New Mexico isn’t civilized enough to suit him.” He looked at June. -“You’ve something on your mind?” said June. “Yes, I have,” he admitted; come over here, where we can talk without being heard by those Mexican women,” | “May I come?” Mrs. Oliver asked. Dick wanted to take hold of her and shake her. “Yes, both of you,” he said. He drew out a roll of blankets, and they sat down on it, before one of the white tents. “T don’t want to frighten you, Mrs. Oliver,” he said. “Frighten me? I was a bit scared a while ago, but I’ve got over it. You see, I’m a native here, and | : know Mexicans.” ae “But do you know what some of them are when lg they fill up with liquor? Many Mexicans are fine men— i anaeentiots = ? A. a cmanane >, ee gentlemen; but they’re not the kind we’ve got with us here, this trip.” ‘3 “These are the peon class,” said Mrs. Oliver. ay She had already lost some of her color. “About half Indian—most of them,” said Dick; “and it makes a bad mixture. Duranzo brought liquor, and he is now giving it to them. He wants to get them des- o. perate, when hé thinks he can get them to do anything he tells them to do. The trouble is going to be, as he ought to know, that he will be likely to lose control of them himself. But I suppose he is too egotistic to think that, or admit it.” Dick stopped and looked at Mrs. Oliver. “Goodness, Mr. Merriwell, how you frightened me! Or were you just trying to frighten me?” “Tl was only preparing you for what I am going to say now. We must get out of this camp, and get into the mine.” “But, really, they won’t attack the camp,” urged. “June is in danger, and it seems to me that if she is, you are also. Let me tell you what I overheard - Duranzo saying himself, just a while ago. He was stand- _ ing where he is»now, talking with those three men; you can see them/from here. I had come up by those rocks, wondering if I ought not to seek another talk with him. - Luck enabled me to overhear him planning with those scoundrels to kidnap June, and, by holding her, force ‘me to get out of this fight. I slipped back, gained the - cafion, and here I am, to tell you about it.” Ao fF Mrs. Oliver NEW. ‘TIP TOP WEEKLY, June sat speechless. “But we can go back to town, Dick,” she said, as soon as she regained her voice. , “Not: without abandoning Marcus Day.” “How can we get into the mine?” “l’ve been thinking about that. At first, I thought it would be best to slip out and get into the cafion; then climb’ out of the cafion farther up, and get in at the cavern where Brad is stationed. But if they dropped to our attempt, they could hem us up in the cafion, and have us at their mercy, for they could roll stones down on us there.” “Gracious !” that?” “Not now, but they would later, if they were filled with liquor and became aroused against us. Let them — get crazy drunk, and they’d think no more of it than- - some boys do of stoning a lot of eats. And it might even be that Duranzo couldn’t keep them from doing. it, if he tried.” June glanced round. “There ought to be a better way, ‘Dick. Maybe it would be best if we planned to barricade and defend the camp. I ‘can fight, too, you know; and if you were here——” “The other way I had thought of,” said Dick, going on, “is for us to get into the mine, without pretending that we even want to get in. If we are to do that it must be done right now. Duranzo will probably not try to carry out his plan before night, and that is three hours or more away. By nightfall his Mexicans will be roar- ing drunk, and ready for anything. So I thought we might stroll out along the slope, as if we were but taking a walk, and then hurry on to the cavern, and get in there before they really understand what we are trying to do.” / “But the Mexican women, the wives of the men, and our two servants?” said June. cried Mrs. Oliver. “But would they. do “They will not harm the Mexican women; some of these women are the wives and daughters of our men. In selecting our men I had that in mind. I employed the men for servants and laborers, and their wives and the members of their families for the camp work. I knew the men would stay with us more contentedly, and do their work better. It’s a good thing now that I did. Duranzo’s men have none of their women with them, I fancy, yet that will not change the general situation. They surely will not harm the two elderly women serv- ants of the Oliver’s, either.” Mrs. Oliver’s cheeks had lost the pink that was so becoming in them. Her blue eyes were overbright now. “T dislike the thought of that mine,” she said, “but we had better go at once.” She started up. “Tt will defeat our purpose, if we seem to hurry,” Dick warned. He turned and called to Johnsor. “Come over here, Johnson, I’ve got some work for you.” He knew that many of the Mexican women could understand English. Alonzo Johnson arose and shuffled over. “Johnson, we’re going to take a walk up by the cafion, perhaps we'll go down into it. Think you'd like to go with us?” seat 18: _ “Misteh Merriwell, suh, my haid’s hurtin’ me—it’s a haidache; I’se ve’y well dissatisfied whar I is, suh.” “I think you’d better go, Johnson. The ladies _ will probably want you to pick some flowers for thém; I saw a lot-of bright flowers over on that slope.” “Yes, suh,” said Johnson, “So you'll go?” “Yes, suh; if you says so, suh.” “All right—in a minute; I want to give these women some instructions about supper.” Dick knew that.every word he had said to Johnson had been heard and understood. The women had stopped their almost interminable chattering and were listening. He knew, also, that these women, except the Olivers’ servants, could not be trusted; if their. men, | went over to Duranzo, they would go, too, Approaching the nearest group, Dick began to discuss the supper question with them in their own. language. He laughed and joked with them to divert their sus- picions. “You will want your frijoles and tortillas and your chile con carn piping hot,” he said; “so you'd better send your boys out at once to cut an abundance of wood and carry it in.” “The axes are gone,” said one of the women. “Oh, the axes. They’re gone?” “Some of Duranzo’s men came and took them; they wanted to use them on the door of the mine. “Oh, I see!” Dick’s manner changed not a hair. “Then send some of your boys up there, to tell their fathers they want the axes back, for they must cut and bring in wood for the supper fires.” Two of the Mexican boys were sent “off at once with the message, by their mothers. “And we shall want a lot of hot biscuits, to eat with our butter and jam, and a pot of good tea,” said Dick. “But you know what we want, as well as I do. See that there is plenty; we shall have appetites, after this _ The women laughed understandingly; it had been a strenuous day for Dick dnd his friends. They promised glibly, and laughed again, showing their white teeth. “We're going out for a stroll along the slope, and over by the cafion, and the supper is to be ready for us . when we come back,” Dick explained further. He returned so calmly to the tent. where the girls awaited him that even if the Mexican’ women had sus- _. pected him they would have been thrown off guard. “We can’t make any preparations,” he said at the tent, in a low tone; “we must just walk slowly away, as if we meant to stroll round and return soon. Are you a _ good actor, Mrs. Oliver? June is first class. I’ve seen her stand before the muzzle of a rifle, and never, wink. Well, if you’re ready!” °. The young women Dick helped to their feet. “Come, Johnson,” he said, in a casual tone; “remem- _ ber those flowers you’re expected to pick for the ladies. They will each want a big bouquet.” “Yes, suh,” said Johnson. “Trail along, then.” _ Not a weapon was displayed by Dick and those with him as they walked out of the camp, though Dick had his big forty-four belted under his coat, and in her cloth- ing, somewhere, June had a small revolver concealed. Mrs. Olver: was Loner and so was ‘Johnson, hs NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. camped, They were tired, I guess; anyway, they said Johnson, “is, dat .you “De trouble wid losin’ rabbit foot,” returning to the subject that consumed him, can’t fergit dat you has los’ it.” od thought it was the loss of the coon that was pester- ‘ ing you,” said Dick. Johnson’s chuckle gurgled in his throat. “Misteh Merriwell, suh, dat was sho de mos’ eurdazions coon I ever recomembers.” “But think what he led you to!” saul “Yes, suh; I ain’t fergittin it. But den come de fightin’ afer Hadn’t been fer dat coon wouldn’t been any fightin’. If I gits killed ’fo’ I gits away f’m heah, it will des be ’cause I los’ mah rabbit foot. An’ I neveh would ’a’ los’ it if I hadn’t lef’ Chicago.” “Chicago is a great city, Johnson.” “Tt sho is,” said Johnson, with enthusiasm. “If I-eveh sees dat ole city ag’in, I stays dar. Dat ole Dearborn Street Station’d. look pow’ful good tuh me right. now, You eveh-been in. Chicago, .Misteh Merriwell,. suh ?” Dick laughed. “T’ve.seen its cafions a few times, Johnson,” Thus Dick conversed with the darky, while he swalliell with June. and Mrs. Oliver. out fromthe camp and on > toward the rim of the cafion, June talked, -too, and = her silvery. laughter rose on the air; hate The merry talking was heard by the Mexicans, and- ma Duranzo, at the mine entrance. They. had been:about to set out. to intercept Dick and his little party,. but now, disarmed, they simply stared, and let them pass. on by. Duranzo knew that Dick was armed, and feared him. “That cafion,” said Dick; and he launched into a dis- sertation on cafions. Te June joined him, and they went on, talking of the — Cafion of the Arkansas, above Cafion City, of the Grand — Cafion of the Colorado, and of the Black Cafion of the | Gunnison, nt It was-a fine. and deceptive bit of acting on apt part: of June and Dick. Mrs. Oliver, who had chased imagi- nary thrills when there seemed no danger, nor any likeli- hood of any, was silent, Yet she walked along steadily, though her face was white. She saw now that the peril she had laughed about had become very real and: very near. ; Johnson, unaware of this acting, did his part nine well; for he began to gather flowers, and soon his, black hands were filled with them, . ‘aed In the same leisurely way Dick and his friends con- tinued on up the slope, though by this time the Mexi- cans by the| mine, with Duranzo, had discovered that Dick had Aeblatad” away from the caiion, and, as a con sequence, the Mexicans were out now, looking and = beginning to ask questions. The Mexicans whom Brad had held at bay had disap- peared, and that was a thing to make Dick thankful. » Probably they had joined some of their fellows i in another place. Brad, looking out of his spaded hole like a woodchuel peering from its burrow, seemed a bit astonished when he beheld Dick and those with him. But his fave. lighted up.. “Lost, strayed, or stolen ?” he shouted. ; “All three,” said Dick; “we came up here to keep you from being lonesome.” ’ x “Well, I’m getting that way, since the eel! de- a nec _— ee i nnn € Sibling ere ce ay. ie & X é NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.