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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..39d3220 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66248 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66248) diff --git a/old/66248-0.txt b/old/66248-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 048cbfe..0000000 --- a/old/66248-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4602 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Texas Hawks; or The Strange Decoy, by -Joseph E. Badger - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Texas Hawks; or The Strange Decoy - Beadle's Pocket Novels No. 59 - -Author: Joseph E. Badger - -Release Date: September 8, 2021 [eBook #66248] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: David Edwards, Stephen Hutcheson, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Northern Illinois - University Digital Library) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TEXAS HAWKS; OR THE STRANGE -DECOY *** - - - - - Vol. V.] [No. 59. - SEPTEMBER 30, 1876. - - - - - THE TEXAS HAWKS; - OR, - THE STRANGE DECOY. - - - BY JOS. E. BADGER, Jr. - - - NEW YORK: - BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, - 98 WILLIAM STREET. - - Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by - FRANK STARR & CO., - In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - I The Strange Rider 9 - II The Lottery of Death 19 - III The Midnight Conflict 31 - IV The Baranca Mystery 40 - V The Maiden’s Peril 50 - VI The Lost Trail 60 - VII On Guard 70 - VIII At Bay 78 - IX A Strange Proposal 85 - X The Clew 93 - XI A Double Surprise 96 - - - - - THE TEXAS HAWKS; - OR, - THE STRANGE DECOY. - - - - - CHAPTER I. - THE STRANGE RIDER. - - -“Bah! for my part, I believe it sheer nonsense—nothing but a hoax.” - -“So said I until lately; but now I _know_ there is something in it.” - -The sentences just noted were spoken in very dissimilar tones: the first -one careless and slightly scoffing—the second low and earnest. Both -speakers were young and of prepossessing appearance. - -The scene was an attractive one, though somewhat similar ones have been -described time and time again. In fact it was the bivouac of a hunting -party. - -One glance would decide this. The soiled and blood-stained garments of -the half-score figures gathered around the cheerful, crackling fire, in -attitudes of careless ease, for the most part with pipe in mouth, the -half-picked bones and fragments of meat scattered profusely here and -there, telling of a hearty meal just passed by. The horses, rudely -hoppled, grazing eagerly hard-by, their sides still wet with sweat; the -plentiful supply of rudely-butchered meat that hung suspended from the -trees around, mostly of buffalo and deer, all told plainly that this was -the bivouac of hunters, resting after a successful day’s chase. - -In conscious security they had kindled their camp-fire, and now, without -a thought of danger, were enjoying that indispensable luxury of a true -plainsman—pipes and tobacco. - -Though our hunters had not given the matter a thought, the camp had been -pitched in a truly lovely and picturesque spot. At this point two -goodly-sized timber-islands extended an arm toward each other, almost -meeting. In fact, though the tree-trunks were separated by several -yards, their long branches fairly touched, interweaved together, forming -a gayly-tinted arch, the frost-touched leaves vying in brilliancy with -the colors of the rainbow. - -Through and beyond this natural bower, the prairie stretched far away in -gently-undulating swells, studded at irregular intervals with timber -_mottes_, something similar to those beside which we find our friends. -Close to these twin _mottes_ was a clear stream of water, a confluent of -the Trinity River. - -As already incidentally mentioned, the party consisted of half a score -of hunters, all young—the eldest scarcely numbering thirty years, while -one or two were a third less than that. They were such men as can only -be found apart from the great cities, nurtured in the broad West, their -limbs and lungs fully developed by the clear, pure atmosphere of the -prairies. They would have been out of place in a ladies’ drawing-room, -because they were at home here. Their hair was worn long; scarcely one -of their faces had ever known the touch of a razor, giving their beards -a glossy silkiness seldom seen, that even the scorching sun or crinkling -winds of winter could not destroy. - -“What do you mean by that, Fred?” quickly added the first speaker, -Edward Campbell—a tall, stalwart youth, who, despite his few years, had -already gained a widely-known reputation from more than one desperate -combat with the savages and wild beasts. - -“Just what I say, Ned,” and Fred Hawksley spoke in a serious tone. “I -_know_ there is such a being, because I have seen her—yes, and spoken to -her, too.” - -A general movement followed this announcement, and it was plain that the -subject under discussion possessed no little interest to the hunters. -Still, despite Hawksley’s earnestness, they seemed to doubt. - -“You have never mentioned this before, Fred. Are you sure there is no -mistake?” - -“Am I a fool, Ned Campbell?” retorted the young man, coolly. “I tell you -that I saw her, only three days ago, not two miles from this very spot. -And I spoke to her, too, as I told you before.” - -“That’s why you were so urgent for us to encamp here, was it?” laughed -Ned. “But never mind—tell us all about it now?” - -“Yes—who is she? What did she look like? Did she answer you?” eagerly -cried several of the little band. - -“Well, I’ll tell you all I know about it, provided you promise not to -make fun of me.” - -“You’re not at another of your sells, are you, Fred? Honest Injun, now.” - -“No, Ned, I mean just what I say.” - -“That’s enough. Go on. When you talk like that, we know you’re not -fooling.” - -“Well, as I said, I saw her three days ago, out just beyond the big red -rock; you know where that is. I didn’t mention it to any of you, because -we had all been deriding Hark Bogan so unmercifully about her, that I -was ashamed to tell what I had seen. You may remember that I was -unusually quiet, that night, after getting back to camp. I told you I -felt tired, but I was _thinking_. - -“You know that the red rock is just on the top of a high swell—the -highest ground for miles around. I was climbing this—as my nag was tired -and heavily loaded with meat—on foot. Mott suddenly raised his head and -whickered. Even had there not come a quick reply, that would have told -me there was another horse near by, but a neigh _did_ come from directly -ahead of me. - -“I was then almost on the top of the swell, and so could just see the -top of the big rock. And there, beside it, _she_ was. You know how high -the rock is. Well, as she sat her horse, her head was on a level with -the highest part of the rock, so you can judge she was no baby. - -“I remembered Bogan’s description the moment I saw this, and knew that I -must be looking upon his ‘wild woman.’ At first I could only see her -head and shoulders. On her head she wore a small cap of some kind of -fur, with two or three brightly dyed eagle-feathers, such as the Kiowas -wear. Her dress—what I could see of it—seemed to be made of tanned -fawn-skin, trimmed in Indian style. - -“I took in this much at a glance, and as it was nearly dark, I naturally -thought she was some Indian. I knew that only a woman could wear such -hair as that which hung down her back. I even laughed as I thought how -crestfallen old Hark would be, when I proved to him that his lovely -white phantom was nothing more than some wandering Indian squaw. - -“Thinking this I kept on until close to the rock, and not half a dozen -lengths from the stranger. Then she lifted a hand and motioned for me to -pause. That she meant this, I saw from her turning the muzzle of a -light, handsome rifle toward my breast, it resting between the ears of -her horse. She seemed like one who had smelled powder before, and I -obeyed her. - -“Now I could see that she was white—though her complexion was that of a -rich brunette. A more beautiful face I never saw. I can’t describe -it—only that her great big eyes were black and shining as those of a -deer; that her figure was the most superbly developed, the most -symmetrical that I ever beheld in my life. Boys, that face and figure -has haunted me ever since. If that woman is as good and pure as she is -beautiful, she would be well worth dying for!” suddenly added Hawksley, -puffing vigorously at his extinguished pipe. - -“And still better living for—eh, Fred?” and Ned Campbell laughed. “But -go on—you spoke to her—this marvelous beauty?” - -“Yes—but not until she spoke first to me. I was still staring at her, -amazed, for I knew that she did not live anywhere around here—at least -with any one I know, and there’s few families in the State that I do not -know. She said: - -“‘What is your name?’ - -“Just that and nothing more. Of course I told her. But that voice! It -corresponded perfectly with her face and figure, rich, mellow, -voluptuous—just such a voice as I believe Homer endowed the goddess -Calypso with, when she was seeking to captivate Ulysses.” - -“Ha! ha! the invincible conquered—Fred Hawksley in love with the fair -unknown!” - -“Laugh if you will, Ned Campbell,” was the sober reply. “I half-believe -it myself. But as I said, I answered her. She did not speak again, but -gave me a look—a glance that set my brain afire—my heart to throbbing -like a trip-hammer. Then she touched the rein and shot off to the right, -swift as an arrow. At a little distance she paused and raised one hand -toward me. I was dumbfounded then, but since I believe that she meant it -as a _challenge_ to me. I did mount Mott, but jaded as he was, I knew -that he stood no chance in a race with that mustang. - -“Ned, as I rode slowly toward camp, the strange woman—whoever she may -be—fairly rode round me, then with a clear, taunting laugh, gave loose -rein and dashed away over the prairie like a bird. In five minutes, she -was out of sight. Now you know all that I know about the matter.” - -“And you chose this camp in hopes of seeing her again?” - -“Well, no, not that exactly; and yet I did think of her. If we _do_ meet -again, I’ll find out who she is, if it lies in old Mott’s limbs to carry -me up to her. There’s some mystery ’bout the woman, that I’ve determined -to unravel.” - -“Give old ‘buck-skin’ a fair show, with plenty of ground before him, and -he’ll ride over the best mustang that ever scored turf in Texas.” - -“I believe he can,” and Hawksley glanced proudly toward the large, but -nobly-shaped yellow horse that munched the grass at the timber’s edge. - -“Hark!” - -There was little need of the exclamation, for all, both human and -quadruped, heard the sound that called it forth; the quick, rapid thud -of a horse’s hoofs upon the solid prairie. All eyes were instantly -turned toward the arch before alluded to. The rider—and a trained ear -has but little difficulty in deciding whether a galloping horse is -riderless—whoever it might be, was beyond the neck of timber, yet -evidently approaching the bivouac. - -The hunters felt only curiosity, for they knew that only one horseman -approached. Then a simultaneous cry broke from their lips. For a moment -they appeared awe-stricken. - -Sitting a noble looking mustang beneath the leafy canopy, with form -perfectly outlined against the still glowing sky in the west, was none -other than the strange being who had formed the subject of conversation -for the past half-hour. Her features were indistinctly visible, but -there could be no mistake. - -She sat her horse in true savage style: astride, and, with a dress -fashioned for that purpose, as was hers, the effect was far from -displeasing. Her dress flashed back the firelight in a thousand -scintillations, from the beads and silver ornaments that thickly studded -its folds. The long black hair, slightly curling at the extremities, -floated in wild profusion around her form. A light rifle was carelessly -balanced across the deep-seated Mexican saddle. Other weapons gleamed -from the belt that encircled her round, compact waist. - -“Who and what are you, anyhow?” cried Campbell, breaking the spell with -an effort. - -The only reply was a low, clear laugh, melodious as the notes of a -silver bell. Hawksley had not exaggerated in the least. The most -skeptical now acknowledged this, mentally, if not aloud. - -“Keep her in sight, Ned,” muttered Fred, as he arose. “If Mott can do -it, I’ll answer that question before I’m an hour older!” - -At his movement, the strange rider wheeled her mustang and seemed ready -for flight, her face turned, glancing back over her shoulder. - -“I can drop the piebald without hurting her,” muttered Campbell, half -inquiringly. - -“No—that would never do. We have no right. Keep her in sight—I think I -can overhaul her,” and Hawksley uttered a low whistle, at the same time -gliding toward where his saddle and bridle hung. - -With another clear laugh, the strange rider turned and, bending low -along the spotted mustang’s neck, dashed around the timber. Campbell -rushed to the arch, then paused, muttering eagerly: - -“Quick, Fred—she’s waiting for you!” - -Such indeed seemed the case. The woman had only retreated a few hundred -yards from the bivouac, and then, as if feeling implicit confidence in -the powers of the animal she bestrode, had halted, once more glancing -back toward the camp-fire. Her actions were strange as her appearance. -She seemed inviting—challenging pursuit. - -In less than a minute from her first appearance, Fred Hawksley sprung -upon his noble beast, and dashed through the arch out upon the prairie. -The strange rider uttered another laugh, clear and silvery, yet with a -taunting cadence that caused the young hunter’s blood to tingle and his -lips to compress firmly. He resolved to overtake the woman, even if it -cost him the noble steed he bestrode. - -“We’ll follow on after you, Fred,” cried Campbell as his friend dashed -past him. “Don’t be rash—there may be some deviltry in this!” - -The strange rider tossed back her floating hair with one hand, as the -young borderer sprung into view, then with a peculiar cry, gave her -mustang free rein, and sped away over the undulating prairie with the -speed of a swallow. And after her thundered the big yellow horse, with -the long, swinging stride that Fred knew few mustangs could successfully -cope with in any thing over a mile dash. - -“Quick, boys—saddle up!” cried Campbell, excitedly. “Never mind the -meat. I’m afraid that Fred is running into some real trouble—that -creature has bewitched him. See! he forgot his rifle—but he has his -pistols. Make haste! we mustn’t lose sight of them if we can help it, -though the moon is full and will soon be up. We can follow their trail, -if needs be.” - -There was little hesitation. Though the day’s work had been hard, both -men and beasts were ready for a race, and this was no common one. -Already the young hunters possessed a burning curiosity to know who and -what this strange woman rider really was, and what was the motive of her -strange actions. - -Hopples were slipped, saddles and bridles quickly adjusted, and then, -weapons in hand, the little party dashed swiftly beneath the natural -rock, out upon the broad prairie. But where were the two riders—their -friend and the strange woman? - -For a moment a superstitious thrill agitated the young hunters, but then -Campbell laughed. He saw their foolishness. - -“They’re beyond the swell—we’ll see them in a moment. Come on—keep up -with me if you can!” - -That he spoke the truth, the next moment confirmed. Gliding like shadowy -phantoms, rapidly yet noiselessly, two riders appeared near the crest of -the second swell, already a mile away. Only that the moon was just -rising the eastern swells, the chase would have been invisible to the -hunters. - -But few more words were spoken on the part of the little band. One and -all, they saw that a long and severe race was before them, and that all -their attention must be given to their horses, already jaded by their -hard day’s hunt, if they hoped to keep within view of the young ranger. -Up hill and down, over gullies and through the patches of tall grass and -weeds, sped the hunters, now no longer in a compact clump, but strung -out with intervals of a yard, a horse’s length, maybe, between each -other. A dozen lengths in front thundered Ned Campbell on his big bay -horse. - -“Do the best ye can, boys,” he shouted back, with beard on shoulder. “If -you can’t keep up, follow the trail.” - -Each of his friends felt the same vague fear that agitated Campbell’s -heart. They believed that Hawksley was being led into some great peril -by this strange rider—that she was acting the part of a _decoy_. - -But why? That was beyond them. They did not pause to reason—they jumped -at once to the conclusion, preposterous as it seemed. - -The moon shone clear and full upon the prairie, lighting up this unique, -double chase. First—far ahead, almost invisible in the dim, deceitful -light, sped the strange woman rider, the spotted mustang running freely -and seemingly at ease. Close behind—in fact not more than a hundred -yards, thundered the dark figure of the young ranger, urging on his -noble “buck-skin” with both voice and spur. A mile further to the rear -was Ned Campbell, his big bay holding its own, if not slowly gaining -upon the two foremost racers. Gradually losing ground, on struggled the -others, bringing up the rear. - -Bitterly Hawksley regretted having so severely taxed his animal during -the day. Were he fresh now, there was little doubt as to how the chase -would terminate. The spotted mustang would speedily be forced to -acknowledge its master. But now? With varying hope and fear, Fred urged -his horse on. He scarcely knew what to think. At times the spotted -creature seemed laboring heavily, at others to be running well within -himself. Could it be that this strange woman was _playing_ with him? -Fred bit his lip and pressed his spurs home. With an angry snort, the -big horse plunged forward with lightning speed. - -Ned Campbell was urging his horse to the utmost, and in his anxiety -concerning his friend, he neglected his usual caution, unfortunately for -all concerned. Fearing to lose sight of the chase, his gaze was bent -ahead, as he gained the crest of a swell. - -A loud cheer burst from his lips as he caught sight of his friend, -seemingly riding close beside the strange woman. As he turned his head -to cheer on his friends, Ned felt his horse suddenly stumble, and then -came insensibility. - -The big bay horse had stepped into the burrow of a gopher, and -stumbling, fell with violence, casting its rider far over its head. -Campbell lay like one dead, and forgetting all else in their anxiety -regarding his welfare, the young hunters dismounted and crowded round -him. - -Thus a full half-hour was lost; momentous minutes to their friend Fred -Hawksley. Only for that unfortunate stumble, how much that followed -might have been spared! - -Though considerably bruised, when he returned to consciousness, Campbell -found that no bones were broken. Almost his first thought was for his -horse. It stood near by, leisurely cropping the grass, in nowise injured -by the _contretemps_. - -Ned uttered a little exclamation, as he glanced around him. He counted -eight forms besides his own. Then he glanced over the prairie in which -direction he had last noted his young friend. It was clear and -unobstructed. Hawksley and the strange rider had disappeared. - -“You ought to have followed on, boys. I fear that Fred is running into -some snare. Do you take the trail now. I remember the point where I last -saw them. I’ll ride on ahead. Don’t lose any time, but keep the right -track. Fred’s life may depend upon it.” - -Before the last words were spoken, he was in the saddle and away. One -quick glance around settled his course, and then fixing his eyes -steadily upon a point of timber a mile or more ahead, he dashed on like -an arrow fresh from the bow. - -His companions followed more deliberately, though at a steady gallop. -The moonlight was sufficiently strong to enable them to follow the -plainly imprinted trail with little difficulty. In a few minutes they -lost sight of Ned Campbell, behind a timber island. - -Round a point of this the trail led, and dashing along, the eyes of the -pursuers widely dilated as they abruptly drew rein. The prairie here -stretched out free of timber, almost level for several miles in either -direction. And yet not a living object was to be seen upon its surface! - -Was this magic? More than one of the hunters felt a thrill of -superstitious awe, as they glanced at each other. Where were Hawksley -and the strange woman? Where was Ned Campbell? - -“Look!” muttered a tall, lank youth, Zebedee Ruel by name, “hyar’s thar -trail—three critters goin’ at full split. They’ve passed this a-way. -Reckon we’d best follow on—what say?” - -The trail was faint and indistinct at this point, for the ground was -harder, ringing sharply beneath the iron-shod hoofs. It was the edge of -a tract of prairie sometimes found in Texas—more frequently in Kansas -and Nebraska; composed of sand, gravel and flinty pebbles, over which a -horse may pass without leaving a trail. - -Such was soon found to be the case here. Though all dismounted, even -searching the ground upon hands and knees, the trail was soon lost. - -“Ha! boys, we’re fools!” muttered Craig Fenton, in a tone of disquiet. -“Don’t you know this place? Why we’re not five miles from Colton’s -Ranche!” - -“By thunder! you’re right, Craig,” muttered Ruel. “Then they must be in -the—” - -“Look yonder!” - -Following the direction indicated by the outstretched finger, the -hunters beheld the tall figure of a horseman, standing motionless upon -the prairie, not two hundred yards from their position. And yet, only a -moment before, the prairie had been closely scanned, without a living -object being seen. - - - - - CHAPTER II. - THE LOTTERY OF DEATH. - - -Other events were occurring upon that same night, that now claim our -attention. - -A small timber island that stood close beside the stream before spoken -of as running near the hunters’ bivouac, was the scene of a strange and -peculiar trial; one that might with propriety be termed _a lottery of -death_. - -Shortly after dark a band of horsemen began congregating here, riding -silently into the road, dismounting and tethering their animals in a -small glade that occupied the center of the _motte_. That they were -white men, was plain from the few words spoken, though the overhanging -trees concealed their features. - -One man who was among the first to arrive, appeared high in authority, -judging from the deference with which he was regarded by the others. He -seemed ill at ease, or very impatient, moving restlessly to and fro, -muttering more than one curse beneath his breath, stamping his foot -fiercely or nervously fingering the weapons at his belt. - -“How many are there here, Thompson?” he uttered, abruptly pausing beside -a tall, muscular frame. - -“Seventeen, by my count, Cap’n Jap,” replied the man, with the stumpy -pipe still clenched betwixt his teeth. “Thar’s two more yit—Colton an’ -Marcks.” - -“Can it be that he suspects the purpose of our meeting to-night? The -soft-headed fool may have seen his brother since then, and as he knows -the laws of our band, that would put him on his guard. Let him beware! -He’d better cut his own throat than to prove false to us now.” - -“True es preachin’, Cap’n Jap,” quoth Thompson. “We’d sarve him wuss’n -we did Hans Koch. But he’ll be here, I reckon. He’s most al’ays -behindhan’.” - -“Start the fire, Jim. We must have light for the drawing. Ha! there -comes some one now!” - -“Yas—an’ it’s _him_, too. He rides the only racker in the band.” - -“Good!” then adding in a low, rapid tone. “You must watch him close, -Thompson. When he learns what is on the boards, he may cut up nasty. -Keep close enough to him to grab him if I give the word. You -understand?” - -“Bet ye—I’ll do it, never fear,” muttered the man, as he gathered a -handful of dried leaves and grass. - -“Well, Colton,” sternly uttered the man addressed as Captain Jap—his -name being Jasper Morton—turning to the last comer, “you are late, as -usual.” - -“I could not help it, Captain Morton. I was kept—” - -“No excuses. But if you ever hope to rise higher in the band, you must -break yourself of this habit. Only for one thing, you would have been -discharged from the league, long ago.” - -“And that is—” - -“We know you would betray us before the week was out. There—you need not -deny it. I know you too well. I merely mentioned this now because I -believe you need a hint of the kind. You are watched—I tell you that -much. You remember Hans Koch? It has not been so long since that you -should forget his fate. Take care that we do not have to deal with you -in that manner.” - -“What have I done that you should threaten me in this manner, Captain -Morton? Have I ever proved false—haven’t I always obeyed orders?” - -“There—don’t get your back up, Jack Colton. What I say is for your own -good. If I am not mistaken you will be tested to-night, more severely -than you think. See to it that you do not fail. If you do—_you die_!” - -“I don’t understand you.” - -“You will, before long. That will do, Thompson. We only require a little -light, and some prying eye might catch the glimmer. Now, men,” he added, -after a brief pause, “gather round and listen well to what I say. We -have work to do this night—some of you may know what I mean, but most of -you do not. Listen well, but keep silence. - -“First, a word as to the objects of our league, then as to our laws. It -will do no harm to freshen your memory on these points. We all know our -calling—our name, for it is _confiscation_—others call it stealing; but -that don’t matter. Among ourselves we are “Night Hawks.” To others we -are simple cattle-drovers, mustangers, or quiet settlers. - -“We have been organized some six months. In that time our profits have -been nearly two thousand dollars per man: a little better than simple -farming. But it will be better still, now that our markets are fairly -opened, and a chain established along which we can ship our plunder -without chance of being detected. All this, however, you know. - -“Now about our laws. The first is—_death to all traitors_. The -next—death to those who stubbornly refuse to perform the duty assigned -to them. Our motto is, blood for blood. If a member of our league is -taken prisoner, we swear to free him, though it cost the lives of half -our number. If one is killed, we swear to avenge him. - -“You all remember Hans Koch. He warned a friend that we intended -cleaning out his corral on a certain night. A trap was set for us, but -we escaped it, because a trusted spy discovered Koch’s treachery. You -know that Koch met his reward. I killed him, because the lot fell to me. -Had I refused, your laws would have condemned me, even though I was -twice your leader. You wonder why I say all this? I will tell you now. - -“You know that Koch’s death reduced the number of our league to twenty. -There are only eighteen here now. One—Tony Marcks—is absent on duty -assigned him by me. The other—Israel Hackett—is dead.” - -A low murmur of surprise followed this announcement, and it was evident -that few, if any of the band had known of their comrade’s fate. Jasper -Morton waved his hand for silence, then resumed: - -“Yes, Israel Hackett is dead—he was killed last night, while performing -his duty. He was one of our best men, and now duty becomes a pleasure—we -must avenge him as our laws demand.” - -“He shall be avenged—the name? who killed him?” came the fierce cry from -more than one pair of lips. - -“Keep cool—all in good time, men. We will proceed by rule. It is only -one man, and upon one of us the duty falls. We will decide by _the -lottery_. It is the fairest way. Thompson—the pouch!” - -A small, narrow buck-skin bag was handed the leader, who knelt beside -the small fire that flickered faintly and feebly. At a gesture from him -the outlaws—for such they undoubtedly were—gathered more closely around, -bending forward and watching his every motion. - -“You know the rules of this—that a bullet shall be placed in the bag for -each and every person present, all but one of them being old and stained -by rubbing together—the other one bright and new. Then we draw, one by -one, until the bright bullet is chosen. The man who draws that is the -one chosen executioner. There can be no refusal—no retreating. It is a -sacred command, and the one who refuses to obey proclaims himself a -traitor. Do you all understand me?” - -“Yes—we are ready!” - -“And _you_?” turning abruptly toward the man he had called Jack Colton. - -“I vow with the rest—I am ready,” came the quiet reply. - -“Good! I confess that I had some doubts, for you have acted rather -queerly since Koch’s death,” sneered Morton. - -“He was my friend—you can not blame me for feeling touched at his -horrible death.” - -“There is nothing wrong in that—only beware that you do not let your -friendship carry you in his footsteps. His wretched fate would be -happiness compared with yours, in that case.” - -Morton seemed to have some secret spite against this member of his band, -but Colton commanded himself by an effort of will, and with a scowl the -outlaw leader turned once more to the subject in hand. - -“Thompson, mold a bullet, your molds run the truest. Make haste.” - -Five minutes later, all was ready. Jasper Morton took the bullets—one -bright as silver, the others all dingy and dark—and slowly dropped them -one by one into the buck-skin pouch, so that all could see. Then he -shook them up thoroughly. - -“Now, as I call, let each man step forward and draw. You are standing in -a circle. I will begin here at my right hand, and go to the left. When -you draw, open your hand and hold the bullet in the firelight so that -all may see. You first, Wilkins.” - -The man advanced, plunged his hand into the pouch, withdrew it, holding -the pellet of lead where the firelight shone full upon it. It was dark -and dingy. - -So were the next half-dozen drawn. Some seemed pleased at the result, -others indifferent, but one uttered a low curse, as though he had been -deprived of a prized boon in not drawing the bright bullet. - -Jack Colton came next, and the features of the outlaw chief lighted up -with a gleam of malignant joy, as the young man held up the fatal -pellet. It was just what he had been longing for. Had he known the -meaning of the word, it is probable that he would have prayed for this -result. - -“You are the elected, Colton,” he cried, in a voice that rung with -triumph. “_Your_ hand must deal the avenging blow! But first—to show -that all was conducted fair. See—here are the other bullets. All are -dark—you drew the only bright one. Are you satisfied?” - -“Yes, I am satisfied. I will avenge Hackett, since fate selects me. Tell -me the name, and what I must do,” quietly replied the young man. - -“You must kill him, and before morning. Such are the rules. No -unnecessary delay.” - -“I know—his name?” impatiently. - -“Listen. Of course I am very sorry that it has happened as it has. It -would have been better had the choice fallen on some other man; but -since you _are_ elected, you must forget all save that you belong to -this league,” and as he spoke Morton’s eyes gleamed with diabolical joy. - -“What do you mean by this?” faltered Colton, his bronzed cheek paling. - -“Only to prepare you. Israel Hackett was killed by _your brother, Henry -Colton_!” - -“My God!” gasped Colton, the terrible truth bursting upon his heart. “My -brother—and I—but no, no! You can not mean that!” - -“Thompson, remember what I told you,” cried Morton, sharply, shrinking -back from before the agitated outlaw, one hand seeking his belt. “Yes, I -_do_ mean it. Your brother killed Hackett, and he is doomed. _You_ took -your chance with the rest of us—you must fulfill your oath.” - -“I will not—I’ll kill you first!” screamed the unfortunate young man, -and in his frenzy, his revolver was jerked from the sheath at his side. - -Now Morton’s precautions stood him in good stead. Thompson sprung -forward and clutched the half-crazed outlaw, pinning his arms closely to -his sides, holding him powerless as a child. - -Thus assisted, Morton quickly disarmed Colton, then motioned Thompson to -release him. With a hot, angry glance around him, the young man stood -still, quelling his emotion by a powerful exertion of will. - -“Now let me know just what you mean by this action, Jack Colton. Have -you forgotten your oath this soon? Do you intend to defy the league?” - -“Yes—when you try to make me soil my hands with the blood of a brother,” -was the firm reply. - -“Ah, you remember the tie now, do you?” sneered Morton. “And yet, only a -few weeks since, you swore that you’d have his heart’s blood. Have you -forgotten that he cursed you, and drove you from his door like a dog, -because, as he said, you insulted his wife?” - -“He only served me right. I did insult her, but it was when I was drunk. -Never mind that now. I tell you that I will not murder him.” - -“Take care—you are sealing your own doom by these words. You have been -told your duty—obey, or take the consequence.” - -“Let it come. I am ready.” - -“Durn the fool—what’s the use o’ palaverin’?” growled Thompson. “Here’s -the bullets; shake ’em up, an’ give _him_ a turn.” - -“For the last time—will you obey?” - -“No.” - -Again the drawing of the death-lottery was gone through, this time even -more deliberately than before. Evidently Morton was anxious to put -Colton to death, from some reason of his own. During its progress, the -attitude of the prisoner—for such he now was—did not change, but his -features altered greatly. His resolution seemed dying out as he noted -the cool nonchalance with which the lots were drawn. Life appeared more -and more dear to him. - -“It’s me,” uttered Thompson, with a coarse laugh. “Well, Colton, my boy, -since it’s so, reckon I must. How’ll you hev it—lead or steel?” - -“Neither. Spare me—do not murder me!” gasped the young man, pale and -trembling. - -“You know the alternative,” coldly replied Morton. “Do your duty and you -are safe.” - -“You are not jesting—you mean this?” - -“Yes. Strike the blow that avenges Israel Hackett, and we will forget -that you refused to do your duty.” - -“I will do it. I did not think it was so hard to die; and he _did_ treat -me mean—like a dog—he even kicked me!” muttered Colton, tremblingly. - -Morton’s eye gleamed. This sudden change seemed to please him greatly. -Thompson looked on in disgust. He felt only contempt for this pitiful -craven. - -“Come, we have lost time enough. Mount and let’s be going. We’ll make a -clean sweep of the corrals, too, while about it. Thompson, you and I -will keep our friend, here, company,” and Morton glanced significantly -at his acolyte. - -The little band filed forth from the woods, and then set out over the -prairie at a rapid gallop—the one gait of Morton’s horsemen. They had -only a few miles to travel, and of that they made short work. - -Jack Colton rode between Thompson and Morton, his head bowed as though -strongly agitated. The outlaw chief was in high spirits. Whatever may -have been his object, he was greatly pleased with the course affairs had -that night taken. - -“Yonder’s the ranche,” muttered Thompson, slackening his pace. “Now, -what’s the programme, old man?” - -“Well, our first care is to see that Colton, here, does his duty. Either -you or I can go with him to the door, just to keep his courage up, you -know; the other can take charge of the men and go through the stables -and corral.” - -“Jest as you say, Cap’n Jap. But how’d we best work it—bu’st in an’ take -the critter by s’prise, or knock ’im up?” - -“Best rap at the door. He’ll think it’s all right when he hears Jack’s -voice. And as for you, my man,” addressing Colton, “remember that your -life depends upon how you act this night. Thompson, you will keep him -covered with your pistol, and at the first sign of treachery, drop him. -You hear me?” - -“Yas—I’ll do it, too, so mind yer eye, ole boy,” and the tall ruffian -uttered an oath to bind his threat. - -“You waste a great many words. I have to do this deed, and I will do it. -Why do you threaten so much?” quietly added Colton. - -“Because I don’t half-trust you. I believe you are a traitor at heart, -and I am half-sorry that I gave you another chance at the grove. But -take care! You’d better have been born dead than to attempt any -treachery toward us now. While one of the band lives, your life will be -in peril.” - -“His will may be good a-plenty, but he hain’t got the sand in his craw -to act the traitor. But never fret, Cap’n Jap. I’ll see that he puts Hen -Colton out o’ the way, or down he goes hisself. Come, we’d better git -down here. The houn’s begin to smell us a’ready.” - -The entire party now dismounted, securing their animals to the rude rail -fence, at this point being hidden from the house by the long hay-topped -stables. After a few whispered instructions from Jasper Morton, Thompson -linked his arm in that of Colton, and glided silently toward the house. - -As they crossed the stile-blocks, a furious barking broke the air, and -half a dozen large hounds came rushing toward them. Thompson cocked his -pistol, as he muttered in Colton’s ear: - -“Quiet ’em, Jack—still the brutes, or you’ll never live to make love to -Hen’s widow!” - -“Should you harm me, those brutes would tear you to pieces before you -could fire twice,” coolly replied Colton. “See—they know me.” - -The huge hounds had recognized the hand that had so often fed them in -days gone by, and their angry greeting turned to one of joy. With -difficulty Colton kept them from leaping upon his body in a swarm, -licking his hands and face. - -Thompson uttered an oath. The baying of the hounds had aroused the -inmates of the building, for a faint light shone through the heavily -shuttered windows. - -“Wal, it don’t matter much, a’ter all. We won’t hev to knock so long. -But now mind how ye act, Jack Colton. You see—I hev my shooter cocked -an’ ready. The fust crooked step you make—down goes your apple-cart! -Onderstand?” - -“Yes. But suppose he refuses to open the door?” - -“He won’t if you play it fine. You tell him to open; thet you’re hard -hit—bin in a muss at the Corners. I’ll sw’ar to it. Thet’ll fetch him, -sure. So—kinder lean on me. It’ll look better an’ ’ll hide your barker -from him ontil he comes out. Keep cool now, and mind your eye, for your -life depends on your doing this job slick an’ without any bunglin’.” - -“All right. You hail him. I’m hurt too bad to call so loud,” added -Colton, with a sickly laugh. - -“Hellow—the house! You Hen Colton—I say—_durn_ it all, man be ye deef?” -roared Thompson, supporting the young man upon one strong arm. - -“What’s wanting out there?” demanded a clear, strong voice from the -interior. - -“You’re wanted—got a sick man here thet needs a little doctorin’. Some -kin o’ your’n, I reckon. Says he’s your brother.” - -“What’s that?” and the heavy door was cautiously swung ajar a few -inches. - -“It’s me, Henry,” and the young man’s voice trembled. - -“What’s the matter with you?” the settler demanded, a trace of suspicion -in his tones. - -“Nothin’ much—only cut up a little. _Monte_ Pete an’ One-eyed Johnny -doubled teams on him, down to the Corners. They’re subjects for a -fust-class wake, an’ the lad here is hurt consid’able. He would hev me -fetch him here—said he wanted to make it up ’th you, or somethin’ like -that. But I reckon he’s wuth two dead critters yit,” hastily explained -the tall outlaw. - -“It’s true, Henry. Give me shelter for one night, or until my hurts can -be looked to. You will?” - -“Of course—you are my brother still, though you had acted twice as bad -as you have done. Come—let me help you.” - -The settler, unsuspecting treachery, stepped out upon the porch, his -countenance expressing his anxiety. Then Thompson nudged Jack Colton -with his elbow, as he loosened his hold. - -What followed was quick as thought. A bright flash—a sharp report—a -death-cry of intense agony—a heavy fall upon the broad stone steps. - -Then Colton, still clutching the smoking pistol, sprung forward and -seizing his brother pushed him forcibly back into the building, in a -moment closing the heavy oaken door and dropping the stout bars into -place. - -Inside the brothers—outside, what? A writhing, bleeding body from which -the life was rapidly ebbing. Thompson the outlaw had been outwitted, and -paid the penalty with his life! - -As he gave Colton the signal that the time had come for his bloody deed, -the young man turned his pistol against his breast and fired. With -bullet-pierced breast, the outlaw fell, dying. - -Henry Colton was thunderstruck. At first he believed that the assault -was upon him, but when his brother closed and barred the door, with that -horrible groaning outside, an inkling of the truth flashed upon his -mind. - -“What is this—what do you mean, Jack?” he gasped, bewildered. - -“It means that I have saved your life, Henry, for the present. But -come—is the house well secured? We’ll have a desperate fight on our -hands before many minutes.” - -“Yes—all is secure. But explain—I don’t understand. You are not -hurt—that man lied?” - -“No, I am well. That was part of a plot. But first—out with the light, -then go and tell your wife that you are safe. Tell her that there is no -real danger, for we can easily beat them off until day, and they’ll not -dare stay longer, for fear of the neighbors. Go now—then hasten back -here.” - -Henry Colton followed his brother’s advice, for he heard his affrighted -wife calling his name in anxious tones from the upper half-story, that -answered for sleeping apartments. A true woman of the border, she felt -safe on seeing him unhurt, and stilling the child, she hastily dressed -and followed her husband to the lower floor. - -“Mary, this is no place for you,” murmured Henry as she glided to his -side. “Go and stay with Tommy. There may be danger here.” - -“No more to me than to you, Henry. I can load your weapons for you, if -you have not time. No—I will not go. Tommy is safe up stairs, and my -place is here beside you.” - -“Let her stay, Henry. It will show me what I have to make amends for. -Mary,” added Jack, his voice sounding husky, “while I have time, let me -pray your forgiveness. I was drunk and half crazy, or I would have known -better than to have insulted you. You will try and forget my words?” - -“Yes—and we will be true brother and sister after this. You can not -guess how deeply it hurt me, knowing that I had caused hard feelings -between you and Henry.” - -“He was right—it was my fault. But I’ll make amends, if my life is -spared.” - -His brother understood this last remark though Mary did not, for Jack -had, in a few hasty words, told him all. How, when driven from his home -by his only brother, he had fallen into the tempter’s snare, and become -one of Jasper Morton’s “Night Hawks.” He told him too of the death-doom -sworn by the outlaws, and that while one of the Night Hawks lived, -neither would be safe from danger. It was this thought that clouded both -their brows. - -Henry Colton marveled greatly that no attack had been made, though full -quarter of an hour had elapsed since the fall of Thompson, but a word -from Jack explained this. The Night Hawks, busy plundering the stables -and corral, no doubt fancied that the death-cry proceeded from the -settler, and that the chosen executioner had done his work well. But -they would soon discover the truth, and then— - -“Ha! it’s coming now!” muttered Jack Colton, in a low, strained tone, as -a peculiar whistle came faintly to their ears. “That’s Morton’s signal -to Thompson.” - -“Stand in this corner, Mary, out of range. We must show the devils no -mercy now, and remember that the more we lay out to-night, the less we -will have to fight in the future,” sternly added the settler. - -“If the moon only shone brighter!” muttered Jack, his eyes gleaming -viciously. “I’d give my left hand for a fair shot at that devil, -Morton!” - -“I know him now. If he’s wise, he’ll keep out of range. Look! yonder -they come!” - -The rifles of the brothers clicked ominously, and then two dark muzzles -protruded slightly from the small loop holes. The house had been built -with an eye to defense against the Indians though until now the settler -had been unmolested. The outlaw whom he had shot, he detected riding off -on a valuable stallion, the day before, and at his rifle’s crack, Israel -Hackett fell dead. Horse-stealing was regarded as an even more heinous -crime than murder, in those days. - -Jasper Morton had chuckled fiendishly, as he heard the shot and -death-cry. He believed that his plans had been successfully carried out. -But he became uneasy at the long delay of his acolyte, and gave the -signal as stated. No answer coming, he began to suspect the truth, and -mustering his men, was now approaching the dark and silent building. - -“When you are sure of your aim, Jack,” muttered Colton, “tell me.” - -“I’m ready now.” - -“Then—fire!” - -Two whiplike reports rung out upon the clear night air, sounding almost -like one. Two of the Night Hawks fell to the ground, writhing in their -death-agonies. Wild cries broke from the survivors, and with one accord -they broke and fled, seeking the nearest cover, for the moment -completely demoralized. - -The brothers laughed, and quickly reloaded their weapons. But Mary -seemed greatly agitated. As Henry noted her pale and frightened face, -she murmured - -“_What if they fire the house!_” - -“My God! I did not think of that!” gasped Colton. - - - - - CHAPTER III. - THE MIDNIGHT CONFLICT. - - -A strange fear filled the breast of the young hunter, Ned Campbell, as -he dashed away over the prairie, his eyes riveted upon the point where -he had last seen his friend in hot pursuit of the weird rider. And yet, -had he attempted, he could not have given expression to this dread, in -words. - -Something seemed to tell him that Fred Hawksley was running blindfold -into a deadly peril—the more to be dreaded because unknown. That this -strange woman was acting the part of a _decoy_. - -All the rumors that he had ever heard of her, now flashed across his -mind. Until this night he had treated them with contempt, believing them -mere fabrications, or else finding birth in a superstitious imagination. - -For six months past, that portion of Texas in and around the “Corners,” -had been filled with wild rumors and stories in which a strange woman -rider played a prominent part. In one thing all coincided, that the -woman was young and bewilderingly lovely. In all else, the accounts -differed. - -One day she was seen here—the next there, miles and miles away. Now she -rode a spotted mustang of great beauty and fleetness; again a black—then -a bright bay. Full twenty men, both young and old, solemnly affirmed -that they had chased her, some upon horses famed for speed and -endurance, but all declared that she had distanced them with seeming -ease. None had ever gotten within speaking distance of her, until now -Fred Hawksley declared that he had heard her voice. - -Where she lived, no one could tell. Certainly not in any house in the -county, for close search had been made by more than one border youth -whose impressible heart had been fired by the strange beauty. When seen, -she was ever alone. All in all she was an enigma—and until now, Campbell -had believed her a myth. - -Aside from his personal friendship for Fred, another inducement spurred -Ned on. Rumor had it that the handsome hunter had surrendered his heart -to fair Fannie Hawksley, Fred’s sister, and for once the owner was -correct. - -When they set forth upon their hunt, Fannie laughingly bade him take -good care of Fred, though there was an undercurrent of seriousness in -her tones that Ned understood. He knew that Hawksley was rash and -adventurous, even to foolhardiness when his blood was fairly aroused, -and he had promised her to take care that he returned all right. - -He remembered his promise now, and it spurred him on, that and his -faintly-defined presentiment of evil. Should any thing serious happen to -Fred, how could he face Fannie? - -“Around that point I must catch sight of him,” he muttered, as he urged -on his good horse. “Unless I mistake, I can see the prairie for ten -miles from there, and surely I was not insensible long enough for them -to cross that stretch? And once in sight, I can guard him against -danger.” - -The big bay horse covered the ground, with long, deer-like bounds that -swiftly lessened the distance. Though laboring heavily—for full fifteen -miles had been traversed since leaving the bivouac, in addition to a -long day’s travel—the noble brute did not falter. He would continue his -stride until his great heart burst, as Ned well knew. But this was no -time to consider the welfare of a horse, when the safety, perhaps the -life of a dear friend hung in the balance. - -With eagerly straining gaze, the young hunter gained and rounded the -point of timber. A cry of wonder broke from his dry lips, and he -abruptly drew rein. Not a living soul was to be seen, though the prairie -stretched out before him, smooth and level almost as a ballroom floor. - -Where could his friend have gone? Surely not straight on, across that -tract? Impossible—it was fully ten miles, if an inch. Around the -_motte_? No—for the trail led straight forward, as a glance showed him. - -Then a sudden cry broke from Campbell’s lips, and he cast a rapid glance -around. He saw that the moonlight had deceived him—that he was at least -a mile further west than he had believed. All was plain to him now—the -mystery was a mystery no longer. - -“The _baranca_—they are there—it must be so! But how—my God! can that -woman have been a _spirit_?” - -The ranger reeled in his saddle. The strange events of that night had -unmanned him, and wild fancies took possession of his brain. He half -believed that this strange rider was nothing but a delusion—a phantom -who had lured his young friend on to his death, by a fall down the -_baranca_ that, though still invisible, he well knew lay before him at -only a few yards’ distance. - -His mind a strange medley, Campbell urged his horse forward, and in half -a dozen more bounds, stood upon the verge of the _baranca_; a deep, -narrow ravine, with almost perpendicular sides, the bottom thickly -strewn with jagged bowlders of different sizes. Though this ravine began -less than a mile to the south, Ned knew that it ran north for ten times -that distance, preserving the same general direction, though winding and -tortuous. - -Still sitting his horse he peered eagerly down into the _baranca_. The -full moon behind him only lighted up a portion of the further side. The -bottom was wrapped in darkness so deep that from where he stood, the eye -could not penetrate it. - -A strange awe was upon the young ranger. All that was superstitious in -his nature was now fully awakened. It seemed more than an adventure with -common flesh and blood. - -Twice his lips parted to utter his friend’s name, and as often he -refrained, why, he could not himself tell. He peered down into the -darkness, his horse slowly trotting along the escarpment, toward the -north. - -Suddenly Campbell gave vent to a cry. Close before him seemed a narrow -pathway leading down into the ravine. - -He urged his horse forward, and descended below the level of the -prairie. But a very few moments convinced him that even if he could -descend to the bottom, he could do little good without lights, and -turning he scrambled once more to the level ground. - -He saw that his comrades had come up, and were now standing as if -amazed. His was the figure that drew the cry of astonishment from Craig -Fenton. - -“Quick, boys,” cried Campbell, riding toward them, “dismount and get -something for torches. They must be down there—but whether dead or -alive, God only knows!” - -“You think that she—” began Fenton, in a low, hushed voice. - -“I don’t know—I’m afraid to think. But don’t talk—make haste. We must -search the ravine.” - -The woods were near, and the young hunters well knew what to select for -torches. In a very few minutes they were back to the edge of the -_baranca_, where Ned Campbell had already kindled a light with his flint -and steel. - -Bearing the feebly-flickering torches, the party descended into the -_baranca_ by the path that, though rough, was amply wide. They slowly -advanced along the rough, rock-strewn bottom, holding aloft their -torches, expecting with each movement to come upon the dead and mangled -form of their young friend. - -The flaring lights caused the shadows to dance and move weirdly, and a -dozen times in as many minutes, their hearts were set in a wild, -sickening shudder as one of their number believed he beheld the object -of their quest. But as often the mistake was proved. - -The search was continued in silence. None cared to speak. The same -superstitious feeling was upon all. All in all, the night was one not -soon to be forgotten. - -They had carefully searched the _baranca_ upon both sides of the spot -for which the trail had pointed, and yet nothing was discovered. They -interchanged glances. Could it be that the chase had turned and skirted -the ravine? Campbell answered the thought, positively. - -“Not unless they entered the timber. It runs for nearly three miles, and -this gully for a good ten. I should have seen them. No, you may laugh, -but I believe they are somewhere in this ravine. We know now that he did -not ride into it, here. But you know Fred. He don’t know what fear is. -If that woman rode into this—and further up there are a dozen places -where it could be done, if one was only acquainted with the ground—he -followed her. He could never quit the chase until he caught her or—she -turned into air!” - -“Well, what shall we do? Fire a volley to let him know we’re looking for -him?” asked Fenton. - -“No—not yet. I can’t tell you why, but somehow it strikes me that there -is mischief in this. Why did she wait there until he was ready to chase -her? She must have seen what we were by the fire-light. Then, if -friendly, why run at all? I believe it’s a decoy of the Kiowas—you know -they are getting saucy again. If so, they are still in here, or else we -would have seen them as they rode away. Put out the lights and we will -explore the place. They can’t be far away.” - -After some objections this plan was adopted, and the party, with ready -weapons, explored the ravine for full half a mile. Then their progress -was stopped by a barrier of huge bowlders, over which a footman could -scarcely clamber in noonday, much less a horse and rider. - -“It’s no use,” muttered Fenton, disgustedly. “We can do nothing here in -the dark. Besides, I believe that they must have turned round the -timber, instead of coming into this hole. In my opinion we’ve all been -acting like a pack of natural born fools!” - -“The fust sensible words I’ve heerd sence leavin’ camp,” uttered -another. - -“You may be right. I hope so, anyhow. We can go up and see if the trail -comes out again into soft ground, as it must if they went into the -wood.” - -“First, give him a salute. He _may_ be in here, hunting for the girl, if -she hid from him. It can do no harm, and may do good. If alive and -within hearing, Fred’ll answer.” - -The rifles were discharged, one quickly succeeding the other, and then -all listened breathlessly. Minute after minute passed by, without any -reply. Campbell drew a long breath. - -“Well, let’s go. If he _is_ in here, he will not mind a little delay—for -he must be dead!” - -Slowly the little party retraced their steps and emerged from the -_baranca_. Mounting their horses they rode slowly off along the edge of -the flinty ground, scattered at regular intervals from that to the -trees, in order that, should one overlook the trail, another might find -it. - -The hopes that had been roused by Fenton’s suggestion grew fainter with -each rod passed over. And when the end of the timber island was reached, -full three miles from where the trail was lost, the hunters reined in -their horses, their heads drooping in despair. That hope—seemingly the -last—was banished. - -“What shall we do now?” - -“What _can_ we do?” and Campbell’s voice sounded strained and husky. - -“I hev it!” cried Ruel. “The dorgs—we kin trail him ’th them!” - -“That’s so—why didn’t we think of it before?” - -“We can try—but I haven’t much hope,” gloomily added Campbell. “You know -how we rode around—we must have covered the trail.” - -“But we can _try_—don’t be so craven, Ned. It’s not like you to gi’ up -so easy.” - -“I know it—but something tells me that Fred is lost—if not dead, that we -will never see him again. Why, I don’t know. I never felt so before -to-night. Boys,” and his voice sunk to a whisper, “I believe that was -a—a _spirit_ that poor Fred chased!” - -No one answered, and they rode on in silence. The true born and raised -Westerner, is naturally superstitious. It seems inherent with them. -Though some may deny this, I _know_ it to be truth. - -“Wal, I don’t know as Colton’s dogs kin trail a _sperit_, but I know -that truer varmints don’t live. Ef _they_ cain’t find Fred, then he _is_ -gone—shore!” - -“Ha! listen—you hear that?” - -Campbell’s voice trembled with excitement. - -Two muffled reports came roaring over the prairie, unmistakably that of -firearms. All heard them, and for a moment, believed that it was -Hawksley signaling to them. But then Ruel—the keenest ear, by far, among -them—cried: - -“Ef it’s Fred, he’s at Colton’s. Them shots kem from thar.” - -“He’d hardly have gone there—and if he did, why would he fire?” - -“He wouldn’t—’tain’t him. Boys—you hear _me_; thar’s trouble thar!” -muttered Ruel, as several more reports—sounding confused as though fired -in an irregular volley—came faintly to their ears. - -“That’s so—ride now, boys; never mind the horses. There’s more at stake -than their lives!” gritted Campbell, for the moment forgetting the -strange disappearance of his friend, in the knowledge that others were -threatened. - -But there is a limit to animal endurance, and though better horses were -never bestrode than those of the young hunters, they galloped heavily -and laboriously. That day and night had been too much for them. - -Though loving their noble beasts, the young rangers now plied their -spurs mercilessly. As Ruel had said, there was trouble ahead. With voice -and rowel they urged the failing animals on, their hearts beating -rapidly with the fear of being too late. And the horses, true to the -core, plunged on, less and less rapidly. - -“Ha—look!” - -Campbell it was that spoke, but the gesture of his outstretched hand was -unheeded. All eyes beheld the same object, and easily interpreted its -meaning. - -Sweeping round a timber island, a thrilling sight burst upon their gaze. -A bright glare was rapidly ascending to the heavens, spreading and -growing more and more vivid with each moment. One glance told them the -meaning of this. A house was burning—the house of their friend and -neighbor, Henry Colton! - -That this was result of no accident, was equally plain, for again there -broke forth the significant crash of firearms. It meant murder and -rapine. - -“We must make it, boys, whether it kills the horses or not!” gritted -Campbell. “One more dash, and we’ll do—_now_!” - -With the words, spurs were plunged rowel deep into the already deeply -scored sides of the tortured beasts, and with wild snorts of pain and -terror, they dashed madly toward the brilliant light. Holding their -breaths, the young hunters handled their weapons and prepared for the -result. The half-mile was lessened to one-half that—a third, and still -the animals thunder on. - -A stumble—an almost human groan of agony, and one horse is down, the hot -life-blood spurting from his mouth and nostrils. It is that of Ruel. The -tall hunter was prepared for this. He felt the noble brute’s sides -collapse, and with a nimble spring, alighted softly upon his feet. - -“Good—hurry up, Ruel,” cried Campbell, who had witnessed the act. - -“Bet ye—I’ll be thar!” and the hunter bounded forward like a deer. - -It may seem strange that the Night Hawks take no alarm at this approach, -but they did not. The prairie-grass was thick, the turf moist and -springy; the burning building roared and crackled loudly, and they were -all intent upon watching the doors, knowing that the inmates must soon -emerge or else die a horrible death in the flames. - -They had not long to wait. Those within were not men to die tamely, -while a chance remained to deal a blow at their enemy. To stay within -was certain death. To come out seemed equally hopeless, yet they chose -this alternative. - -The front door was flung wide and two forms sprung out into the open -air, with cocked and leveled rifles. A rattling volley was fired at -them, but their movements were so quick, their change of position so -abrupt, that most of the missiles went wide of the mark. - -One fell to his knees—it was Henry Colton. A wild shriek was added to -the tumult, and Mary, his wife, who had been forced to remain behind -while the men drew the fire of the Night Hawks, sprung out, her little -boy clasped to her breast, and flung herself beside the wounded settler. - -Colton seemed invigorated by her presence and once more sprung erect, -his rifle echoing the death-knell of an outlaw. Then a wild cry broke -from his lips as he sunk back. He caught sight of the rescuers. - -A hoarse cheer—a deadly volley—then the young hunters sprung from their -trembling animals, and with drawn pistols, rushed to close quarters. But -the Night Hawks did not tarry to test their metal. - -As a band they were annihilated. Two-thirds of their number had fallen, -what with the fire of the besieged and this withering volley, discharged -as they all rushed forward to complete their murderous work. With cries -of terror the survivors turned and fled for their horses, followed by a -rapid discharge of pistol-bullets. - -Jack Colton had escaped the storm of bullets that saluted their bold -dash from the blazing building, and recognizing his now deadly enemy, -Jasper Morton, the Night-Hawk chief, had fired at him. The outlaw -staggered, but did not fall, and he was one of the few that gained their -horses. - -With a curse of rage Colton dashed aside his useless rifle and sprung -after Morton. There was reason in his action, for he knew that his life -would be in peril as long as the outlaw lived. - -Twice he fired, but without apparent effect. The Night-Hawk leader -sprung into a saddle, then urged his horse to rapid flight. Colton -promptly imitated this action, and the two, pursued and pursuer, soon -disappeared without the line of light shed by the blazing dwelling. - -“Look to these devils, Ruel,” hurriedly uttered Campbell, as he looked -around upon the scene. “If any are living bind them. We’ll have a -hanging bee here to-morrow!” - -“Oh, Ned!” sobbed Mrs. Colton, “come to Henry—quick! He’s dying!” - -“No—he’s only hurt a little, not much. He’ll be all right in a minute or -two,” soothingly uttered Campbell, though far from being so confident in -his heart. “How is it, Colton, old fellow?” - -The settler smiled faintly, then murmured his wife’s name. She was -beside him in a moment, and then, with her hand clasped in his, he -swooned. - -“Now, Mary,” uttered Ned, as firmly as he could, “be strong—nerve -yourself, for on you may depend Henry’s life. If you take on this way -it’ll kill him, sure.” - -“I will—I’ll be calm. But is there hope—he is not dead?” - -“Pooh! far from it. You’ll not be a widow for many a long year yet, my -dear sister. It’s only loss of blood, with the excitement, you see.” - -While he spoke, Campbell was carefully examining Colton’s wound, and to -his great joy, found that he had told the truth, unknowingly. Only one -bullet had struck him, severing a minor artery in the left thigh, -causing a profuse flow of blood, but nothing that rest and quiet would -not cure. - -“What d’ y’ think, Ned?” muttered Ruel, his face black with suppressed -anger, “What d’ y’ think them imps hev done?” - -“What?” demanded Campbell, alarmed. - -“Shot them dorgs—every one, dead es a nit!” - -“Is that all? You startled me half to death!” - -“All—_all_? Them dorgs—the best in Texas—truer’n death—oh thunder!” -spluttered Ruel. - -“Never mind ’em—are there any horses around besides ours?” - -“Yes—them what was rid by those car’on.” - -“The boys must ride further, then. We must rouse the neighbors. Colton -and his wife need care, and then we must hunt down the villains that -escaped. Besides, there’s Fred—he must be found.” - -With a grieved look at the carcasses of his favorite “dorgs,” Ruel -strode off to set the hunters at work. An hour later the wounded man and -his wife were on the way to shelter, and Ruel was leading the hunt after -those who had killed his dogs. - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - THE BARANCA MYSTERY. - - -It was a bitter blow to the Night-Hawk leader, Jasper Morton, to see his -long-worked-for revenge thus snatched from his very grasp, just as the -game seemed entirely in his own hands. Long-worked-for, we say, for the -reader must have seen that his was no common enmity toward the two -brothers; why, may be explained hereafter. - -Morton recognized the rescuing party, and knew that all was lost. Few -among that picked band but would have been a good match for him -single-handed, even before he received the wound that well-nigh disabled -his left shoulder. - -With a bitter curse at his ill luck, the outlaw sprung upon his horse, -and plunging spurs viciously into its ribs, dashed off in rapid flight. -Three others imitated his example; either from chance or a hope that the -young hunters would not separate, each outlaw chose a separate course, -riding for dear life. - -As we have seen, Jack Colton marked his enemy, and followed in hot -pursuit upon one of the horses that the Night Hawks had left fastened to -the rail fence in the rear of the stables. Then began another mad, -headlong race, the third one that had crossed the prairie that night. - -The moon still shone brightly, and Colton could plainly distinguish his -quarry, save when a ridge intervened for a moment. The distance -separating them was not more than two hundred yards, at the most, and to -his fierce joy, Colton saw that this was gradually being lessened, and -while urging on his excited horse, he assured himself that his pistols -were in readiness for use. - -“Stop! Jasper Morton—coward!” he cried, in a voice that trembled with -rage and hatred. “Stop and prove your manhood—it is only one man that -chases you.” - -The Night Hawk turned and glanced over his shoulder, but instead of -checking his madly racing steed, he bent lower in the saddle and urged -him to a greater speed. Colton fairly howled aloud in his rage as he saw -the outlaw slowly but surely creeping away from him, and drawing a -knife, he thrust its keen point several times into the hips of his -horse. - -Snorting wildly, the tortured brute sprung forward with a speed that -seemed to rival that of the lightning’s bolt, and Colton laughed aloud -as he raised his revolver. Another score moments and he felt that he -would be within range. - -Then his pistol cracked, deliberately, at regular intervals. His nerves -were like iron now, and he felt that revenge was his, at last. - -But the moonlight was deceitful, the motion of his horse unsteady, and -the bullets hissed harmlessly by the fugitive. A bitter curse broke from -his lips as he emptied the first revolver. - -Thrusting it into his belt, he again made use of the cruel spur. With -wild, killing bounds, the tortured animal brought his merciless rider -nearer his foe. - -Again Colton leveled a pistol—his second revolver. At its sharp report, -the horse bestrode by the Night-Hawk leader gave a sudden bound, that -told the bullet had found its mark. - -The pursuer laughed aloud, and leveled his weapon once more. The pursued -uttered a fierce despairing curse and turning in his saddle, fired three -shots in quick succession at his relentless pursuer. - -Fortune favored him in the result, for though scarcely pausing for aim, -one missile foiled Colton’s hopes. With a shrill scream of pain, the -noble brute stumbled and fell, casting the settler headlong to the -ground. A bullet had struck its foreleg, that already overtasked, gave -way, causing the heavy fall. - -Morton heard the fall, and glancing back, uttered an exultant laugh. For -a moment he pressed hard upon the bit, as though he would return to -contemplate his triumph, but then, altering his mind, he spurred on. - -He was well-nigh disabled, and did not know how many or close were his -pursuers. He was in no condition for a fight, just then. His wound, -freely bleeding, already caused him to feel faint, his head beginning to -swim dizzily. - -Added to this he felt his horse weaken and act as though failing. For a -moment he wondered at this, for it was his own animal, a proved good -one, but then he divined the cause. One or more of the settler’s bullets -had found their mark. - -With hard-drawn breath and gritting teeth the outlaw glanced over his -shoulder. To his joy the prairie was clear of pursuers. Then Colton had -been alone! - -The horse twitched his tail, and his ears drooped. Morton knew what -these symptoms meant, and he prepared for the result. Drawing hard upon -the reins, he slackened his speed. It was time. The poor brute was -trembling convulsively, the blood oozing from its nostrils and hanging -lip. - -Morton sprung to the ground, with a fierce curse. The horse staggered -when relieved from his weight, and gave a faint whicker as it turned its -head toward its master. But that was all. With an almost human groan it -fell forward, dead. - -“Curse the luck!” snarled Morton, wincing with pain as he moved his left -arm. “Just now when I most need him—wounded, too! Them devils will be -upon my track by daylight—and where can I go? In the _motte_? They’d -unearth me there. Ha! I have it—I can hide in the _baranca_—at least -until I can pick up strength to go further. There’s a thousand holes -among the rocks that I can hide in; unless they try hounds,” and he -started at the thought, for he knew that in such a case, he was indeed -lost. - -Still Morton knew that the _baranca_ afforded him the best chance of -eluding the search that he knew would be made for him, if only by Jack -Colton, as the rocks would leave no sign for human eyes to trace him out -by. His horse had carried him to within half a mile of the ravine, and -though feeling weak and faint, he set out at his best pace for the -refuge, not daring to stop even long enough to dress his wound. - -He little dreamed of the adventure that was to befall him there, else he -might have hesitated before choosing the _baranca_ in preference to the -woods. - -A few minutes carried the Night-Hawk chief to the edge of the _baranca_, -and then he hastened along the verge, seeking for a spot down which he -might clamber without too severely exerting his wounded arm. A mutter of -satisfaction greeted his success, and Morton cautiously groped his way -along a winding trail that evidently led down to the bottom. - -He, even then, noticed that this trail had been used, but that gave him -no uneasiness. So too had a score of paths at as many different points, -by both human and beast. - -The trail led him toward the southern extremity of the _baranca_, and on -reaching the bottom, he naturally continued on in that direction. For -some time he sought among the huge, thick-lying bowlders for a snug -covert, without finding any that satisfied him. - -Before him loomed up the rocky barricade that had checked the progress -of the young hunters while engaged in their search for Fred Hawksley, -earlier on that same night. Morton, however, had reached the opposite -side, facing the north, instead of south. - -Among this pile of bowlders Morton hoped to find a secure refuge, and -had almost gained its foot when a low cry broke from his lips, and he -abruptly paused, crouching down to the ground, one hand clutching a -revolver-butt. A strange object had caught his gaze—doubly strange in -that place. - -“Was it only fancy?” he muttered, peering curiously forward. “I don’t -see it now—it’s gone! And yet I don’t think it was a fire-fly. Ha!” - -While muttering these words the outlaw slowly rose erect until he -assumed his former position. The exclamation told that he had again -caught sight of the object. - -This was a small point of light, clear and brilliant, glowing steadily -and unchangeably. As he slowly raised his head, Morton saw that this -only shone from a small aperture, for beyond a certain point, in either -direction, it was invisible. - -For a time the Night-Hawk chief forgot his bodily pain and exhaustion in -wonder. There was something strange in this light, shining from that -lone and wild spot, that he resolved to investigate. - -Keeping his eye riveted upon the star-like point, he slowly and -cautiously advanced, with almost every step losing sight of the light, -but then recovering it again. In this manner he gained the lower -bowlders, and it seemed now that he could reach the light by simply -outstretching his hand. Instinctively he raised an arm, then laughed -faintly at his own credulity. - -Cautiously Morton climbed further among the rocks, his eyes still fixed -upon the light. A fragment crumbled beneath his hand, and he fell -forward, striking his head with violence upon the rock. - -The shock and pain wrung a slight cry from his lips, and the pistol -slipped from his grasp, clattering sharply upon the stones, fortunately -not exploding. Quickly recovering himself, Morton glanced forward; but -the light was gone! - -The blow upon the head confused him, or he might easily have avoided -what followed. Instead of retreating or concealing himself, as prudence -would have dictated, he remained perched upon the bowlders, endeavoring -to discover the light. - -A faint metallic clink caught his ear, and quickly following the sound, -his eyes seemed to outline, though dimly and indistinct, the figure of a -human being among the rocks. Only the one brief glimpse was afforded -him, for a blinding flash filled his eyes—a stinging pain shot through -his brain, and with a wild cry, he flung aloft his arms, falling -backward to the ground. - -When he recovered consciousness, the outlaw captain found himself lying -upon a soft couch, evidently formed of skins, for his hand clutched some -hairy substance. A heavy throbbing pain filled his brain, and his -wounded shoulder ached horribly. - -With a half-conscious groan he raised a hand to his head. It touched a -sticky substance that he knew was clotted gore. Then it was not all -fancy—there had been a human form standing before him, and the blinding -blaze came from a pistol or rifle that had wounded him. - -“So you have come to,” uttered a deep voice, coming from above or behind -Morton’s head. - -He started to a sitting posture and uttered a cry of terror as his hand -sought his belt, only to find it weaponless. A low, taunting laugh -followed this movement, then the voice added, as footsteps moved toward -the outlaw: - -“You need have no fear, my dear sir; you are safe here, for the present, -at least.” - -Morton turned his head, and by the dim light saw a tall figure standing -beside him—the figure of an old man with close-cropped hair and -smooth-shaven face. As he gazed, he knew that this was the man who had -fired the shot that wounded him, while searching for the mystic light. - -“Who are you—where am I?” he faltered, shrinking back from the stranger. - -“You are here—I am myself. That is all you need know for a while. If you -prove the man I fancy, I may tell you more. But, in the mean time, lie -still. Your wounds need dressing, and I now have time to attend to them. -Since you came I’ve been busy watching the movements of some of your -friends—a very particular one, I judge, from a few words I heard him -mutter,” and the tall man gazed keenly at the wounded outlaw. - -“Who do you mean? I don’t understand you,” he muttered, tremblingly. - -“It was Jack Colton, I think,” slowly added the man. - -Morton shrunk back in terror. He was totally unmanned now, and heard the -name with a shudder. - -“He—you won’t let him—” - -“No. He is gone; but he must have followed you close. I thought you were -good friends.” - -“How—you know me?” gasped Morton. - -The strange man laughed. - -“There are few persons in this region that I do not know. You go by the -name of Jasper Morton. But I don’t think that is your real name. If it -is, so much the worse for _you_. You will never leave this place alive.” - -“Mercy—what harm have I ever done you? Why should you threaten me this -way?” - -“No particular harm, but you have _my secret_. That is reason enough. -You may judge whether I am a man to baulk at trifles, by my having shot -you as you were spying into my affairs. I have a secret and an end. That -secret must be kept from _all_ until my purpose is attained. If you come -between, so much the worse for you; you must be disposed of—or, in -plainer terms, I shall kill you.” - -“But if I am not really Jasper Morton?” added the outlaw, anxiously. - -“That matters little, unless you be one of two persons. Prove to me that -you are either of those two, and you are safe.” - -“And who are they?” quickly asked Morton. - -“That _you_ must tell me—not I you. But never mind now. I must—” - -The strange man abruptly paused in his speech, and the wounded outlaw -uttered a gasp of terror. A wild, shrill cry—almost a yell, rung clearly -upon their ears. It scarcely seemed like the voice of a human being, -unless of one hopelessly insane. - -The stranger frowned angrily, and a curse broke from his lips. Then he -uttered a low, peculiar whistle, twice repeated. - -Morton had turned half round, forgetting his pain in wonder and terror. -As the whistle sounded the second time, he saw a dim, shadowy figure -glide out from the darkness and stand before the old man. - -Though he could not distinguish the features of this newcomer, Morton -knew that she—for it was unmistakably the form of a woman—was young, -from the lithe, rounded figure and agile, graceful movements. - -The old man spoke a few quick words that the outlaw could not catch, -then added aloud as he strode away: - -“If he attempts to arise, Lola, shoot him. He must not escape yet.” - -“I do not fear him. If he is wise, he will lie still.” - -Morton could scarce believe his ears. The words and voice were in such -direct contrast. The one soft and musical as the notes of a bird, the -other stern and determined. - -Strange events were crowding fast upon him that night, but this was the -strangest of them all. Speechless and half-stupefied, he gazed upon the -woman before him. Never before had he beheld such marvelous -beauty—loveliness of a fiery, yet voluptuous, oriental type. - -She was tall for a woman, several inches above the medium hight, in -fact, but all was the most perfect symmetry. Her hair, black, glossy and -luxuriant, hung in heavy masses below her waist, unconfined save by a -simple band of beaded doe-skin that crossed above her forehead. Of a -dark, Spanish-like complexion, with large, lustrous eyes, cheeks tinged -with the red blush of perfect health; with full, slightly-pouting lips -of scarlet, rich, juicy and tempting; rounded chin, and graceful neck -sloping down to a swelling bust that Venus herself might have envied; a -round, compact waist incased in a neatly-fitting dress of whitely-tanned -doe-skin. Leggings of the same material fitted the round, swelling -limbs, ending in dainty, beaded moccasins. - -Standing in an attitude of careless ease, the strange beauty was gazing -half-mockingly upon the wounded outlaw, one hand clasping the butt of a -small, silver-mounted revolver with an ease that bespoke long use and -perfect familiarity with the weapon. - -“Who are you?” muttered Morton, staring at her as though at a phantom. -“I’ve seen you before—where?” - -“I am my father’s daughter,” and the strange girl laughed, clear and -musically. “Do you think to gain from my lips knowledge that _he_ -refused you? Wait—in good time you shall know all or—nothing.” - -“You threaten, too? What sort of a hornets’ nest is this I’ve got into, -I wonder?” - -The strange girl laughed, her eyes and white teeth gleaming from out the -dim light. But there was a peculiar expression to her face that sent a -thrill through the outlaw’s frame. He had seen its counterpart once, as -he faced a wounded panther. In this woman’s eyes there was the same -cruel, deadly glitter that he had noted then. - -Morton cast a quick glance around him. The dim light had imperfectly -revealed his surroundings; still, he could tell that he was under -ground. - -The chamber he was in was low and irregular, of no great dimensions, the -walls and roof of intermingled earth and rock. Around him hung various -weapons, rifles, pistols, bows and arrows, Indian tomahawks and knives. -Robes and furs were scattered around, or hanging from the walls. - -The truth flashed upon him. The light he had discovered, came from this -chamber, the entrance to which was in some manner concealed beneath or -in the rocky barricade that intersected the _baranca_. In falling he had -alarmed the inmates. Then the old man must have shot at him, in the -treacherous light aiming too high to produce death, though a fraction -lower would have ended the outlaw’s career forever. - -Morton shuddered again, and the girl turned her head quickly, the fire -deepening in her eyes, as another cry came from beyond the point where -the old man had disappeared. Then a low, gasping, gurgling sound and all -was still. - -“My God! there’s murder going on in there!” cried the outlaw, -half-arising, horror expressed in every feature. - -“Lie still—move another inch and there’ll be murder here, as well!” -sharply uttered the girl, as the pistol rose to a level with Morton’s -head. “Down with you, or I fire!” - -Morton sunk back, bathed in cold sweat. In a few moments the old man -reappeared, wiping his hands upon his dress. The outlaw shuddered -convulsively as he noted the dark, red stains that discolored the skin. -What deed of horror had been enacted in that further chamber? - -“You can go back to your station, now, Lola,” he uttered, in a calm, -even tone. “If I wish your presence, I will signal you. Now, sir,” he -added, as the woman disappeared from view, “I can attend to you. But -first, let’s see if there be any need of dressing your wounds. A man at -my time of life dislikes unnecessary trouble. As I told you, if you -_are_ Jasper Morton, or indeed, any other than one of two persons, there -will be no need of dressing your hurts, because, in that case, you must -be _disposed of_, before you have a chance to make known what you have -discovered concerning this place and its inmates.” - -“You mean to—to _murder_ me?” - -“Exactly—that is the vulgar expression of what I mean.” - -“Why did you take me in here then?” - -“Because—first, you seemed very curious to learn what was going on -inside; entirely too curious to suit my ideas of propriety. So I shot -you, and I meant to end your pryings forever, too. But when I bent over -you, to see if you were really dead, something in your face struck me, -and I fetched you here to see what truth there was in the surmise. Now -tell me—are you Jasper Morton; is that your real name?” - -“No.” - -“Good! then what is? Remember, that the truth alone can avail you, if -any thing. Of course you can not guess the names that run in my mind. -Speak out—what is your real name?” - -Morton’s lips parted and his throat twitched, but he could not speak. -The knowledge that his own lips might condemn him, was horrible. The -resemblance that the old man had been struck with, might after all be -mere fancy. - -“Spare me—I will take any oath—will be your slave, your dog, if you -spare my life,” he muttered, great drops of cold perspiration starting -out over his forehead. - -“I take no man’s oath,” was the cold reply. “Speak out—or I will believe -you lie in saying your true name is not Jasper Morton and reward you -with this,” and as he spoke, the cold muzzle of a revolver at full cock -touched the outlaw’s temple. - -“Take it away—I will speak, if you only lower that!” gasped the wounded -man, shrinking back. - -“Very well. Be quick.” - -“My name is James—James Mestayer,” falteringly. - -“You are speaking the truth?” coldly demanded the old man, keenly eying -the trembling wretch. - -“Yes—the truth, so help me—” - -“Never mind. Don’t exult too soon. You had a brother?” - -“Yes—Thomas. He died—was killed in California.” - -“What was your father’s and your mother’s names?” - -“James and Lucinda.” - -“You had an uncle who married a sister to your mother?” - -“Yes—father’s brother Albert. And you—you are the man!” eagerly cried -the outlaw. - -“Yes, I am Albert Mestayer, your father’s brother. In your face I saw -what James was when young. That was what stayed my hand. I believed that -you was my nephew, either James or Thomas, though I had not seen either -for near twenty years. Then you can guess—but no, you were too young -then, and I made James promise never to tell you the black story,” -muttered the old man, half to himself. - -The outlaw, Mestayer, as we must now call him—gazed keenly and curiously -at this strangely found relation. He scarce knew what to think. Until -now, he believed him dead, for that was what they—himself and -brother—had been taught to think. - -“Never mind. We will talk matters over after awhile, when you are -stronger. If what I have heard of you is correct, you may be of service -to me. But now, let me look to your hurts, and you can tell me how you -received the first.” - -As the old man’s nimble fingers bound up the wounds, Mestayer told the -events of that night, so far as he knew them, concealing nothing. He did -not fear his uncle would shrink from the crime. - - - - - CHAPTER V. - THE MAIDEN’S PERIL. - - -Over a week had passed by since the night on which this story opened, a -week during which much had been done though little effected. Early in -the day following the house-burning, a heavy shower fell that -effectually obliterated all trails left by the fleeing Night Hawks and -also destroyed Campbell’s hopes of discovering his lost friend with the -aid of hounds. - -Through that long week he had scarce rested an hour at a time, spurred -on by the pleadings of Fred’s sister, Fannie Hawksley. He searched every -rod of the _baranca_, in company with Ruel and several other of the lost -man’s comrades, but without finding the slightest trace or clue. They -clambered over the rocky barricade, little suspecting the secrets it -concealed, or that the old man and his peerless daughter were silently -laughing at them for their mole-like blindness. - -Thoroughly convinced that their friend had not entered the _baranca_ at -all, the young hunters returned to the level prairie. There a surprise -awaited them. - -Beyond the _baranca_, a mile distant, they caught sight of a horse -feeding upon the juicy grass. One glance sufficed. It was the big yellow -horse Mott, on which Fred Hawksley had set forth in pursuit of the -strange woman. The animal was alone, saddled and bridled. Nothing could -be seen of his master. - -The prairie around was closely scrutinized. One thing was plain; the -horse had not crossed the _baranca_, nor been nearer to it than when -found, since daylight, else the rain-moistened turf would have betrayed -the fact. Following its trail, they found where it had stood for some -time tied to the hanging limb of a tree, in a hollow hidden from the -_baranca_, a mile or more distant. But nowhere could they find the -imprints of human feet. - -All was done that human ingenuity could devise, but at the end of the -week, all was wrapt in darkness. Nothing was learned regarding the young -man’s fate, nor, during that time, had any thing been heard of the -strange woman rider. Both had seemingly disappeared together, without -leaving any trace. - -The agonized grief of the bereaved family had settled down to a more -quiet, though not less acute sorrow. The everyday duties of life must be -performed, though the heart be breaking. - -It was nightfall when a single horseman drew rein before the dwelling of -Archibald Hawksley, dismounting, and, with plump saddle-bags thrown over -his arm, approached the front door with that assured freedom so -characteristic of the West. There, hospitality is a matter of course. If -sunset catches a traveler near a house, that, for the time being, is his -home. He is welcomed, given the best the place affords, then sent on his -way rejoicing. An experienced traveler never offers money in return; -’tis a poor reward for hospitality to insult a host. - -The traveler in question bore evidence of having ridden many a mile, in -the sand and dust that covered his garments, and his heavy horse-hide -boots. There was a peculiar air about him that told a settler his -occupation. Every thing, from the heavy, “black-snake” whip down, -stamped him a drover. - -Archibald Hawksley, a tall, stalwart man, bearing his years well, warmly -greeted the stranger. Five minutes later, the drover was comfortably -seated, pipe in mouth, awaiting the evening meal that Fanny was -overseeing. - -“Stranger in these parts, I reckon,” quoth Hawksley, also “blowing a -cloud,” falling insensibly into the peculiar dialect of the parts, -though a well-educated man. - -“Yas—this is my fust trip this fur out, though I’ve traded over the line -fer some y’ars. Met a feller in Naketosh” (Natchitoches) “last -trip—fergit his name now, but reckon it don’t matter much—who told me -thar was a chaince fer right smart tradin’ up this a-way; so here I be, -ready fer business. I’ve got the money, you fellers hev got the spar’ -horses an’ cattle, so I guess we kin come to tarms.” - -A man is never so grief-stricken as to entirely neglect his personal -interests, and Hawksley was soon deep in “business talk” with Mark -Haley, as the trader gave his name. There was little difficulty in -coming to terms, for the trader offered good prices, seeming strangely -liberal, for a drover. - -During supper, Fannie several times caught his gaze resting fixedly upon -her face, and felt a strange, ill-defined uneasiness that she could not -entirely banish. And yet this close scrutiny might well be pardoned, for -the maiden was very pleasing to look upon, and the drover seemed just in -the prime of life, when one’s fancy is most quickly caught by a fresh, -lovely face. - -Fannie Hawksley was more than ordinarily beautiful—indeed the family -were noted for their good-looks, and she was the bright star of all. -Under the medium hight, small and light as a fairy, her form was well -developed and true-proportioned. Rich brown hair, a clear, fresh -complexion, and melting hazel eyes—little wonder that Mark Haley gazed -admiringly at her. - -After supper was dispatched, the men stepped outside, and, with lighted -pipes, continued their bartering. Haley’s eyes often wandered toward the -house, seemingly admiring its structure, a two-story building being -something of a novelty at that time, so far on the frontier. - -That evening Ned Campbell called, as usual since Fred’s disappearance, -to report progress. It was the same story of baffled search. Nothing had -been learned regarding the missing man. - -Mark Haley seemed deeply interested in the story, but could offer no -suggestion that had not already been tried. Hawksley sunk into a -troubled reverie, and then abruptly retired, first showing Haley his -room. - -An hour later Ned Campbell took his departure, sad and heart-sick. For -several months he had been Fannie’s accepted suitor, but never until -this night had she set the time for their wedding. - -“Ned,” she had said, looking up into his bold, handsome face, as his -arms tightly encircled her lithe, rounded form, “I can not marry until -Fred returns home, or—or is found. If alive, bring him here; if dead, -bring me proof, and I will be yours. In this horrible uncertainty, I can -think of nothing else. It is killing mother and father. Bring him back -to us, and I am yours.” - -“If man can do it, Fannie, I will. But there seems little hope. Think -what we have done—how we have searched. But, God helping me, I will find -him. If only for your sake, I will not rest until I do. Good-by, -darling. I will not come any more until I can bring you tidings, either -good or bad. It only makes the work harder. Seeing your grief unnerves -me. Good-by; pray for my success, and hope for the best, darling.” - -“God bless you, Ned,” she answered, her bright eyes dimmed with tears. -“You deserve a better girl than I am, but I will make you happy if I -can.” - -Campbell dared not reply in words, but their lips met in a long, -clinging kiss of pure and holy love, then he tore himself away, and -mounting his horse, galloped furiously away toward his own home. - -Mechanically, Fannie closed and secured the door and windows, then -covered up the embers in the fire-place with ashes, and taking a candle, -slowly ascended the stairs to her chamber. Though she knew it not, eager -eyes were fixed upon her form until the door closed behind her—eyes that -burned with an evil glow—the eyes of Mark Haley, the drover. - -The building was quiet and still. All seemed buried in profound slumber; -but there was one pair of eyes that thought not of closing; one brain -that was busy concocting a piece of diabolical treachery. - -Nearly two hours passed by after Mark Haley watched Fannie Hawksley to -her chamber, before he made a move. Then, with moccasins upon his feet, -instead of the heavy boots, he noiselessly emerged from his room, having -in one hand a small bull’s-eye lantern, the slide only partially turned. -In the other he held a small patch of what looked like soiled paper or -cloth, and a coil of stout string. The bushy black beard seemed -one-sided, as though it was false, and had become slightly disarranged. - -In the darkness, but partially dispelled by the tiny ray of light, his -eyes burned and glowed with a phosphorescent luster that marks the orbs -of cruel, treacherous creatures, whether human or quadruped. Pausing, he -bent his ear and listened intently. - -The house was still as death. Evidently the inmates were all peacefully -slumbering, for a time happily forgetful of their great loss. - -Haley smiled viciously, showing the white teeth through the bushy mask -of hair. He chuckled, low and exultantly. Thus far, his plans had worked -admirably. The settler had not suspected him for other than he seemed. - -“It works like a charm—had I ordered all things, they could not have -turned out better to my mind,” he muttered, as his ear was bent close to -the door of Fannie’s chamber. “She sleeps—I can hear her breathing -regularly. If I can only reach her before she awakes. A cry from her -lips would fetch that man upon me, and I do not wish to kill him—not -yet; a different death than a quick one by a bullet awaits him. A -thousand times I could have done that—but my revenge is better, much -better.” - -These last words were hissed forth with a venom indescribable. Though he -knew it not, Archibald Hawksley was entertaining his most deadly enemy. - -Gently Haley lifted the simple latch, and his eyes snapped exultantly as -he found the door yield to his pressure. Deeply troubled, Fannie had -neglected securing it before retiring, and now she lay at the mercy of -this demon in disguise. - -Closing the dark-lantern, Haley stealthily entered the chamber, closing -the door behind him. That would be another barrier for sound to pass -through, in case Fannie should take the alarm too soon for his purpose. - -The maiden still slept peacefully, breathing soft and regularly. The bed -was dimly revealed by the moonlight that filtered through the window -shade, and the cat-like eyes of the intruder could just discern the -outlines of the maiden’s head and shoulder against the snowy pillow. - -The light was sufficient for his purpose, and he gently placed the -lantern upon the floor, crouching low down upon hands and knees. Thus, -unless Fannie should raise up alarmed, he was hidden from her sight. - -Stealthily, noiselessly, like a serpent of evil, the masked fiend crept -toward the bedside, with ready implements that had been provided before -entering the house. Fannie breathed on, soft and low, as he noiselessly -arose and stood beside her. - -A ray of moonlight fell upon her countenance, a soft luster-like halo -encircled her head, a pearly tear glistened upon her cheek, but that -fiend felt no pity—only a ferocious joy that he had thus far succeeded -in his designs. The rich brown hair loosened from its fastenings, -covered her neck and gently-heaving bosom as with a vail, while one hand -seemed pressed above her heart to still its throbbings. - -Only for a moment did Haley permit himself to gaze upon the picture of -peaceful innocence, then he acted. One hand hovered over the maiden’s -throat, while the other, holding the prepared plaster, clapped it -adroitly over her mouth. - -The maiden, thus rudely awakened, looked at the intruder with -horror-distended eyes, but the cry she strove to utter, died away in her -throat. The plaster closed her lips effectually, and the brawny hand -tightly clutched her throat. Mark Haley was complete master of the -situation. - -“Lie still—act wisely and obey, or it will be the worse for you. I do -not wish to harm you—will not unless you force me to do so. Remember -this—if the house is aroused, it will be too late to save you. I will -kill you first. You hear? I am not a man to idly threaten what I will -not perform.” - -Fannie, half strangled, asked the question with her eyes—“What do you -mean to do with me?” Haley seemed to read her meaning, for he replied: - -“I do not intend to harm you, at least not now. But you must go with me. -Remember, at the first attempt to alarm your father, I send this knife -home to your heart,” and as he hissed the words, Haley held a broad, -keen blade before the maiden’s eyes. “I tell you this as a warning. You -will heed it if you have any love for life. But now listen. I said you -must go with me. I mean it, and the ride will be long. As the night is -chilly you will need wraps. Promise me not to attempt to remove this -plaster, and I will free your hands so that you can slip on your -clothes. Refuse, and I take you as you are, in night-dress alone. -Quick—decide. I have no time to waste. If you promise, close your eyes.” - -Fannie read stern determination in her captor’s eyes, and making the -best of affairs, signed her assent as indicated. Haley laughed. - -“Good! I thought that would touch you. Remember—you may arouse your -father, but he will only find your dead body, and I can escape through -the window. Here—now put them on quickly.” - -As he spoke, the villain handed Fannie her garments, and tremblingly she -donned them, though the brute stood over her with uplifted knife. Haley -thrust her shoes into the pockets of his great-coat. - -“They would make too much noise. You can put them on when we are safe -outside. But wrap a blanket round you, or you might catch cold in the -night air. You see how very careful I am of your health? Like a -father—ha! ha!” and again his disagreeable chuckle jarred upon her ears. - -Scarcely waiting for Fannie to secure her dress, Haley seized her arms -and bound them firmly with the string he had provided, then served her -ankles the same way. On second thoughts, seeing how trembling and -unnerved the maiden appeared, he resolved to carry her, instead of -trusting her to walk out of the dwelling. - -With knife clenched between his teeth, Haley picked the maiden up in his -strong arms and rested her over his shoulder, her arms pinned beneath -her. Then he picked up the dark-lantern and stepped out upon the -landing. - -All was still below, save the monotonous ticking of the clock. The -settler slept on, all unconscious of this deadly blow that was being -dealt him. - -Opening the slide to throw a faint light before him, Haley began -descending the stairs. Twice he paused and listened breathlessly as a -stair creaked beneath his foot, but fortune favored him, and he gained -the outer door in safety. - -While he was undoing bolts and bars, Fannie moved restlessly upon his -shoulder. Clutching her tightly he hissed a horrible threat in her ear. -With a gasping gurgle, she resigned all hope of being rescued. She dared -not give the alarm. She felt that instant death would follow, and, even -in this great peril, life seemed very sweet to her. - -Stepping outside, Haley gently closed the door behind him, then with a -chuckle of fiendish triumph, he glided rapidly away from the house, -toward the stable. Pausing outside, he deposited the maiden upon the -ground, then clutched his knife firmly. - -Only one obstacle now intervened between him and absolute victory, and -he had strong hopes that he might avoid this. As the settler showed him -the horses he wished to dispose of, Haley noticed a huge dog—an almost -full-blooded mastiff—and learned that to his care was confided the stock -at night. A sight rope held him to his post, but not strong enough to -restrain him should an intruder approach. It was merely to keep his duty -before him. - -Haley, professing great love for dogs, had fondled and caressed the -mastiff, with this end in view, and now hoped that he would be allowed -to take his own horse without being molested. As he approached the -entrance, a deep, warning growl told him that the dog was on guard. -Softly whistling, though with ready knife, he stepped within. That the -mastiff recognized him was plain, but he resolutely barred the way, -growling deeply. - -A curse gritted through Haley’s teeth, as he saw that only over the dead -body of this faithful custodian could he hope to secure his horse. -Bending down he caressed the dog, then, like lightning the heavy knife -was brought round, sinking to the very hilt in the dog’s side. A -half-stifled snarl and the huge brute leaped at the man’s throat, -bearing him to the ground like a child. - -In this moment Haley showed his desperate courage. Not a sound escaped -his lips, though the great jaws closed upon his throat. He jerked the -knife from its sheath of flesh and plunged it again and again into the -quivering body. - -But this was needless. The dog was already dead. His leap had been -merely convulsive, and the jaws barely closed upon Haley’s throat. The -teeth did not raze the skin. - -Flinging the body from him, Haley arose and brushed the blood from his -face, then quickly saddled and bridled his horse. Leading him forth, he -once more picked up Fannie, mounting with the agility of youth. - -Even now he did not forget his prudence, but rode slowly away, -readjusting the bushy beard upon his face. Though late, he might meet -with some person and this would aid in directing the search that he knew -would follow with the morning. - -“Now, my dear,” he uttered, as he carefully removed the plaster from the -maiden’s lips, “I do this in pure kindness of heart, and I hope for your -sake that you will not abuse my confidence. It’s not likely we will meet -with any of your friends, but if we _do_ and you should cry out, that -cry will be your last. You understand?” - -“Where are you taking me? Why have you done this? What have I ever done -to you that you treat me so?” faltered Fannie. - -“Nothing—but your father has—much. Never mind now. It will be explained -to you in due time. Until then, keep still. It will be better for you,” -was the brutal reply. - -Fannie dared not disobey this command, and relapsed into silence. But -with each passing moment her natural self-possession grew stronger, and -she began to take note of the direction in which she was being taken. -Haley made no attempt to prevent this. He seemed to feel that Fannie was -too entirely in his power to make this knowledge dangerous to his plans. - -Now that she was more herself, the maiden regretted not having given the -alarm, while help was near, and inwardly resolved that should another -opportunity offer, to embrace it at all hazards. - -For over an hour Haley galloped steadily on, and Fannie felt her heart -sink as she realized that they were now far beyond all habitations of -her friends, with nothing but the vast, almost limitless prairie -stretching out before them. Where was she being taken? What had fate in -store for her? - -Her eyes were closed, her head drooping in despair, when, with a low, -fierce curse, Mark Haley suddenly drew rein. With hope thrilling her -heart, Fannie eagerly raised her head and gazed around. - -“Utter a whisper and I’ll murder you!” hissed the abductor, venomously. - -Fannie saw the reason he had uttered this caution. Before them, blocking -the very path they had been pursuing, she could just distinguish the -forms of three men. Though their features were indistinct, the dress -bespoke them white men. - -She saw in them a last hope. The threats of Mark Haley were forgotten or -disregarded. In a clear, imploring voice she cried out: - -“Help—for the love of God, save me!” - -With a snarling curse Haley lifted his clenched fist and drove it -forcibly full between her eyes. With a convulsive shudder, Fannie’s head -drooped and she lay a lifeless weight upon his arm. - -“Hellow! what’s the meanin’ o’ all this, anyhow?” gruffly demanded one -of the three men, stepping forward, his rifle muzzle in advance. “What -ye got thar, mister?” - -“None of your business. Attend to your own affairs and don’t meddle with -mine,” boldly replied Haley. - -“Eh? Jes’ lis’en, boys. Don’t he crow loud? Reckon you don’t know—why, -hellow! Is’t you, Cap?” and the man lowered his weapon, his face -expressing great surprise. - -“I don’t know you—stand aside or I’ll give you cause to regret -interfering with matters that don’t concern you,” snarled Haley, his -revolver coming to a level. - -“You will, eh? Is that the way you treat old pards, Jap Morton?” and the -rifle was quickly raised to a level. - -Would the man dare fire? In that dead, uncertain light, death to the -maiden must almost assuredly follow. - -“Curse you for a meddling rascal!” hissed Mark Haley, and his pistol -spoke sharp and clear. - -Like an echo the rifle responded. Then came a shrill cry—a heavy groan -and dull fall; then more shots, a confused trampling—then all was still. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - THE LOST TRAIL. - - -With the dawn of day, Archibald Hawksley emerged from the house, and set -about his morning duties. Though he noticed the door was unbarred, he -thought Fanny had forgot to secure it. - -But he was not long deceived. As he entered the stable, a cry of rage -and surprise burst from his lips. Before him lay the stiff and mangled -body of his faithful mastiff. - -One glance round the interior told him the stranger’s horse was missing, -though all the others were safe. Scarcely knowing what to think, he -rushed toward the house, where he was met by his wife, pale and -agitated. - -“Father, where is Fannie?” - -Pale and stern, with blazing eyes, the settler dashed up the stairs and -burst open the door of the room assigned to their late guest. It was -empty. The bed had not been pressed that night. With a groan of -heartfelt despair, he sunk into a chair. Though he knew not the cause of -its being dealt him, he realized the full force of the blow. - -“Father, where is Fannie?” repeated the pale and trembling wife, -creeping to his side. - -The voice and soft touch roused the stricken settler. In a moment he was -himself again. With a desperate effort he regained his usual coolness, -and set about the task that lay before him. - -“God only knows, but I will find her. That man—that devil must have -stole her. Fool that I was, to let his lying tongue so blind me! But he -shall pay for it, by my hopes of heaven! I swear that I will have his -heart’s blood for this!” - -“Oh! Fannie—my child, my poor child!” gasped the bereaved mother, for -the first time realizing the full weight of this new blow. - -“Peace, Esther,” coldly added Hawksley, though the unnatural glitter in -his eyes, and the feverish flush upon his face told how severe must be -the effort at composure. “Weeping and wailing will do no good here. We -must _work_. Do you go down and send the children round to the neighbors -with the tidings. Bid them come here at once, ready for work. I will -take his trail, and you can send them after me as they come in. I will -leave plenty of signs so that they can easily overtake me. Be sure and -send to Campbell’s for Ned. Go now—there is no time to lose. I must look -first if he left any clue.” - -Mrs. Hawksley, her terror and despair momentarily stilled by the stern -and peremptory words of her husband, hastened down-stairs to dispatch -the children, as directed, for assistance. Hawksley, cool and collected, -began slowly searching the two chambers, in hope of finding some clue to -the real object of the abductor. - -This second blow, following so closely upon the disappearance of his -only grown son, instead of crushing him to the earth, seemed to call -forth all his energies, and to fit him for the difficult task that lay -before him. Nothing was forgotten or overlooked. - -He was disappointed in his search, for nothing was found that could -assist him in the quest. Then descending the stairs, he bade his wife -fill his saddle-bags with food, his canteen with strong coffee, while he -made ready his horse. Ten minutes later he was in the saddle, renewing -his instructions regarding his neighbors when they should arrive. - -He rode out from the yard, and making a broad circuit, quickly struck -the trail. There could be no mistaking this, for it lay plainly -imprinted upon the dew-moistened ground. Dismounting, he closely -examined each of the four hoof-prints, registering them indelibly upon -his memory. - -“I’ll not forget,” he muttered, swinging himself once more into the -saddle. “Large hoofs, shod in front; a triangular chip broken from the -inside edge of the off hind foot. Now it only remains to follow the -trail to its end. Sooner or later we must meet, and then, Mark Haley—if -that be your name—beware! As God hears me, I will kill you without -mercy! And if—if harm has come to my poor child, I’ll torture you so -that the most devilish red-skin would blush for shame at his ignorance!” - -Bending low in the saddle, Hawksley rode on at a rapid gallop, his keen -eye, sharpened by a knowledge of his child’s peril, picking up the trail -unerringly. Straight as the flight of a crow, for miles, led the trace. - -Hawksley’s brow darkened as he noted this. The abductor seemed striking -for the broad, unsettled prairie. Could it be that he was one of those -fiendish renegades who found a refuge among the Kiowas? He could think -of no other solution for the abductor taking such a course. - -“Never mind—’twill only be the easier to trail him, if he keeps away -from the settled track. Ha! what is that?” - -Checking his horse he bent down and picked up a circular patch of cloth, -covered with some sticky substance. A groan broke from his lips as he -divined the use it had been put to. One mystery was cleared up: that why -Fannie had not given the alarm while being taken from her home. - -“Curse him!” hissed Hawksley, hurling the bit of plaster away. “Curse my -blindness in not seeing through his mask. Poor Fred’s fate should have -taught me more caution. But never mind—my time will come.” - -The settler, with flashing eyes and close-set teeth, continued his -course, picking up the trail with tolerable ease for one so little -versed in the art as he was. He knew, by the position of the -hoof-prints—they being planted one in a place, from eight to ten feet -apart—that at this point Mark Haley had been advancing rapidly, at a -gallop. In trotting, there would be two hoof-prints close together, one -almost obliterated by the other, or, just the same as made while in a -walk, save of larger stride. - -Hawksley, by this fact, could guess pretty closely at the speed -maintained by the abductor, and though he knew that his own progress was -much slower, still he did not despair of overtaking the man. Doubly -loaded, the fugitive must pause soon, if only to rest his horse. - -The sun was two hours high, when a sight met the father’s eye that -caused a cold thrill to pervade his veins. For a moment he reeled in his -saddle, and almost fell to the ground, but then, with pale face and -starting eyeballs, he plunged spurs deep into his horse’s flanks, and -dashed madly forward. - -A score or more dark, slowly-circling forms were hovering over the -prairie directly before him, in close proximity to where the trail must -lead, unless it swerved abruptly to one side or the other. The shadowy -shapes were those of vultures, buzzards, crows—those filthy yet useful -scavengers of the prairies. - -They told the experienced settler a significant tale. They told him that -death was before him, along the trail. That they were collecting round a -horrible feast that had been prepared for them. - -In his agony of fear, Hawksley believed that he was about to behold the -dead and mangled remains of his child. Fearing this, with mad shouts he -dashed forward, brandishing his arms wildly. - -The filthy birds heard him and in silence widened their circles, rising -higher and higher, joined by others that rose heavily from the ground -seemingly loth to quit the spot. A brace of coyotes slunk away, howling -lugubriously, with drooping tail and snarling teeth. - -A heart-sickening sight lay before him, as he mechanically wrenched his -horse to a standstill. A groan of agonized apprehension broke from his -pallid lips as he reeled rather than sprung from his saddle. - -One glance was all that he could give—then he sunk to the ground, bowing -his head upon his knees, shuddering convulsively, like one suddenly -stricken with a chill. The horrible truth seemed plain to him—he -believed that before him lay strewn the remains of Fannie, his child. - -The greensward was trampled and torn, stained here and there with -crimson blotches that showed where veins had been drained of their -life-blood. Around were scattered white and gleaming bones, already -dismembered and clean-picked by the teeth of coyotes and beaks of birds. -Tattered and torn, he saw a bright, particolored patchwork quilt that he -knew had covered his daughter’s bed. Further to one side was a fragment -of her dress, also blood-stained. - -Hawksley remained thus, bowed down in mute agony, until the quickly -repeating thud of horses’ hoofs approaching in rapid gallop roused him. -Then he clutched his rifle and glared around, his bloodshot eyes blazing -with vengeance. - -“Hold! Hawksley—don’t fire—we’re friends,” cried a loud, clear voice -that he recognized through the blind passion that possessed him. - -Slowly he lowered his rifle, passing a hand across his eyes, as though -something obstructed his vision. He did not return the salutation, nor -speak a word as the two young men rode up, but silently pointed a finger -toward the ghastly relics that strewed the sward. - -“My God! what is this?” gasped Ned Campbell, reeling in his saddle, -shrinking back as a horrible fear struck to his heart. - -Zeb Ruel—his companion—did not speak, but dismounted and slowly -approached the spot. Leaning upon his rifle Hawksley closely watched his -movements, a convulsive tremor agitating his frame as Ruel coolly picked -up one of the gnawed and disfigured skulls, turning it about and viewing -it from different sides. - -With a grunt he tossed the fragment aside, then looked around for the -other—as one glance was enough to decide that at least two persons had -met their death at this point. His actions were vastly different here, -for this skull was smaller and more delicately shaped, such as one would -naturally supposed a woman’s to be. - -Tremblingly the two men watched their companion. Upon him their hopes -depended. He was by far the most acute and experienced of the trio, and -besides was not so deeply interested as they. Hence his judgment was the -more apt to be reliable. - -Zeb Ruel did not touch this skull. The two watchers thought he seemed -afraid to, and their hearts sunk still lower. - -Whistling softly he strode slowly around the stained and trampled spot. -He examined the blanket, then the fragment of Fannie’s dress. There were -other pieces of cloth, evidently from garments worn by a man. Several -large buttons, and the texture of the cloth proved that. - -Abruptly pausing he poked at some object with the butt of his rifle. -Whatever it was seemed wound round a fragment of bone. Stooping, he -gingerly freed it with his fingers, then held it aloft, critically eying -it. - -Campbell and Hawksley both uttered little cries. They could see that it -was a mass of hair, though the dust that covered it, disguised the -color. - -Shaking it gently, Ruel examined it closely. A long whistle, expressive -of surprise, broke from his lips. - -“What is it, Ruel?” faltered Hawksley. - -“See! a skelp—no, by thunder! it’s a false b’ard!” was the astonished -reply. - -“Let me see,” and Hawksley snatched the article from Zeb’s hands. -“Yes—it is his! He—Mark Haley wore this, and I—cursed fool that I am!—I -thought it natural! Then it is true, as I feared—they are both dead! -Fannie, my darling child—oh God!” and sinking to the ground, the -stricken father burst into tears. - -“Don’t bother him, Ned,” hastily muttered Ruel, as Campbell sprung from -his horse. “It’ll be the savin’ o’ him—them tears. He’d go plum crazy -else—an’ no wonder, nuther. First Fred, now the gal.” - -“Then you think—” faltered Campbell, chokingly. - -“But we don’t _know_,” was the hasty reply, for Ruel knew in what -relation the young couple stood to each other, and dreaded the result. -“An’ I never give up hope while thar’s a chance left. She _may_ be -rubbed out; I don’t say she isn’t. But why—who by? Surely the fellow -wasn’t cussed fool enough to kill her an’ then hisself? You see _some -one_ must ’a’ helped—an’ that’s jest what we must look for now. You must -help—you’re good on the trail—an’ it’ll keep you from gittin’ as _he_ -is. Go that way—I’ll go this. Look cluss round the aidges o’ the -trampled spot. Mebbe we kin find sunkthin’ to pay us.” - -Separating, the two young men crouched low down, carefully and -thoroughly scrutinizing every inch of the ground for several yards -beyond the edge of the torn and trampled spot. Their search was -successful, for at almost the same moment, a cry announced some -discovery. - -“What is it, Ned?” muttered Ruel, springing to his friend’s side. - -“Prints of a horse’s hoofs at full gallop. See—they toe away, and—look! -See the blood-spots!” - -“Sure enough—plenty, too. But now the question is—was thar anybody on -him? Right here he looks as if he was runnin’ loose-like. But let that -rest fer a bit, an’ come over an’ look at my find. I want your ’pinion -on it. Them pesky wolves hes ’most blotted it out.” - -“It’s the print of a man wearing a boot,” muttered Campbell, after a -close scrutiny. “He is leaving this place—on a run. See how the toes cut -in?” - -“Right—but—” - -“With boots on, you say?” interrupted Hawksley, who had risen -unobserved. - -“Yes, and large ones too.” - -“Then _he_ did not make them, for he left his boots at the house, with -his empty saddle-bags.” - -“Likely he took moccasins out o’ the bags, so’s to step easy,” suggested -Ruel. - -“Hark! some one is coming.” - -“Two, rather, from the sound. Yes—see; it’s Fenton an’ Morley. Jest in -time, boys,” he added, as the two men rode up to the spot. “We want you, -with Hawksley here, to take an’ foller up this trail, while Ned an’ I -look to t’other ’ne. Grupp the feller _alive_, mind ye. Whoever he is, -he kin tell all what happened here last night. Think you kin foller it, -Morley?” - -“Ef any man kin, I kin,” quietly replied the little, weasen-featured -hunter, throwing his bridle-rein to Fenton. - -“If you git him, send up a smoke o’ wet grass. We’ll see it, an’ we’ll -do the same if we git sure news fust.” - -But little more was said. Hawksley had by this time entirely regained -his composure, and, though he firmly believed that his child was dead, -he resolved to bear up until he had drank deeply of revenge. He, -together with Fenton and Morley, set forward upon the trail, the old -hunter tracing it up with the certainty of a blood-hound. - -Campbell rode his horse, leading that of Ruel, who preferred walking at -present, though the trail was plain enough to be followed from the -saddle. He was trying to decide whether the madly-fleeing horse was -ridden, or not; a difficult task at the best, unless by long trailing. - -“It’s the crittur that is hurt,” muttered Zeb, after a while, “an’ that -too in the head or neck. ’Ca’se why? You see the drops o’ blood is -mostly scattered in a line, an’ on some o’ them is scattered dust an’ -dirt. Then ag’in, you see them on the side, cl’ar o’ the trail; -see—here’s one. Now thar—thar’s two on _t’other_ side. He does that by -shaking his head. Ef he was hurt in the side, it’d be one-sided—the -blood, I mean. Hold—stop!” - -Campbell abruptly pulled up, and Ruel closely scrutinized the ground for -a minute in silence. Then he arose and leaped into the saddle. He had -decided that the horse was ridden. - -“You kin see it from here,” he added, in answer to Ned’s inquiring -looks. “See—it looks like the hoss had stumbled, then stopped half-way, -in a heap. The ground is smooth, he didn’t stumble because he was -growing fainty, for see—thar go his tracks es reg’lar es ever. Whoever -rid him, was in a powerful hurry. You see he jerked the reins an’ stuck -spurs in the brute so hard that it made him change his step. That’s what -made the blurr thar. Onless the hoss had been ridden, thar’d jist bin -one stumble, then the same clean step as afore. - -“Now look well to your weepons,” he added, as he set forward at a hard -gallop. “Thar’s a man ahead o’ us, an’ he was mixed up in the scenes -back thar. Whoever he is we must take him; but don’t do no more’n -cripple the cuss.” - -“We’re not far from the river, now.” - -“No. The varmint is makin’ straight for it. The fool—a hoss thet hes -lost a bushel o’ blood like this ’ne hes, hain’t got no call tryin’ to -cross the ford _now_. I only hope he won’t drownd the man, too.” - -As Campbell said, they were near the river that was spoken of in our -first chapter, as flowing close to the hunters’ bivouac. The ford was -almost directly opposite the camp, and the trail was running in a -bee-line for it. - -“I knowed it—see, the tracks lead down into the water,” muttered Zeb, -his keen eyes searching the further banks. “Mebbe he crossed, but I -reckon he had to swim for it. Over we go—it’s the quickest way.” - -The horses took willingly to the water, and though at one time they were -forced to swim desperately in the raging current, their strong limbs -prevailed and the two hunters were soon in safety at the other shore. -Zeb Ruel leaped into the shallow water, tossing his reins to Campbell, -saying: “Hold them, Ned. Mebbe I kin tell if he crossed clean over. I -marked his tracks.” - -But the soft mud was so deeply cut and scarred by different hoof-prints -that he could not tell with certainty. Then the two men began closely -scrutinizing the ground between the river and the timber. - -For full half an hour they searched without success. It was evident that -the horse had not crossed, and Paul was inclined to believe that the -rider had been swept off into the deep water below, when, hampered by -his wounded steed, his death would almost inevitably follow. - -“Ha! look yonder!” cried Campbell, directing his companion’s attention -over the river to a tall column of dense black smoke. - -“It’s the boys—they’ve found somethin’ on the other trail. We’d better -go back.” - -As he uttered these words, the tall hunter suddenly paused, and bent his -ear to the ground for a moment. Then rising he glided swiftly toward the -arch-like opening between the two timber islands; reaching this he -beckoned vehemently for Campbell to follow. - -“Look yonder!” he hissed, grasping Ned’s arm with convulsive force, his -other hand outstretched toward the open prairie. - -“The woman—that strange rider—the one that decoyed Fred Hawksley from -us!” gasped Campbell, in wonderment. - -“It’s her—shure! Kin you take her? Your critter’s fresh. Ketch her an’ -you kin tell whar Fred’s gone to.” - -“I’ll do it or kill my horse. Stand aside, Ruel,” excitedly muttered -Campbell. - -“Easy—she’s comin’ closter. Look to your girth—see that it don’t fail ye -now. Ef you cain’t do better, drop ’ither her or her critter. Ha! she -has caught sight o’ you. Durn it! why didn’t we hide closter!” - -It was true. Upon a ridge scarcely a mile distant was the strange woman, -riding the spotted mustang that had served her so well when Fred -Hawksley was in pursuit. The sun shining clearly, had outlined the two -hunters clearly against the open background, and she had evidently -caught sight of them, for she drew rein, gazing in their direction with -one hand shading her eyes. - -As Campbell leaped upon his big bay horse, she wheeled the mustang and -dashed back over the swell like an arrow. Touching his mettled horse, -fairly warmed to his work by the morning’s ride, Ned sped swiftly over -the rolling prairie, almost in the same tracks that he had made a week -before, when pursuing the same creature. Would this chase end as -disastrously? His brow darkened and his teeth gritted fiercely as he -resolved to give the race a different termination. - -A fierce joy filled the young ranger’s heart as the woman rider again -appeared in sight, for he could see that already he had lessened the -interval between them. Both animals evidently were fresh, and it was to -be a test of their superiority—a war of races. - -As they topped the next swell, Campbell’s face changed, He it was that -was losing ground now. The spotted mustang stretched out like a -grayhound, was running with the speed and evenness of an arrow’s flight. -Bending forward, the strange rider seemed urging him on at top speed. - -Campbell’s spurs dripped well with blood, and his voice added its -persuasion, but in vain. Slowly, surely the spotted mustang was drawing -away from the big horse. - -Campbell uttered a furious curse as he noted this, but then a gleam -lighted up his countenance. The fugitive was heading directly for the -timber point where he had lost sight of her and Fred Hawksley, a week -previously. - -Now, should she disappear as strangely as then, he would know that she -was concealed somewhere in the _baranca_, and it would go hard but that -he unearthed the mystery. With these thoughts, Ned urged his beast -forward, at its best pace. - -As the woman neared the timber point, she turned her head and glanced -back over her shoulder. Campbell almost fancied that he could detect her -scornful, taunting laugh as she waved a hand toward him, then bending -forward, disappeared around the clump of trees. - -“Now I will know—if she _is_ gone, then I have her foul. I’ll solve the -mystery of Fred’s disappearance, and that too before this day’s sun -sets!” he muttered, as his spurs rankled the big horse’s sides. - -In a few moments he also rounded the point of trees, and abruptly pulled -up his horse, with a low cry. As he suspected, the prairie was open and -untenanted. The strange rider had disappeared. - -But then as he glanced downward at the tracks of the spotted mustang, -Campbell saw that they turned abruptly to the right, running close to -the underbrush, instead of heading for the _baranca_. For a moment the -young hunter was disconcerted. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - ON GUARD. - - -Ned Campbell sat his horse with an air of irresolution. For a moment he -appeared at a loss what course to pursue. - -He glanced quickly around him. The black column of smoke had -disappeared. Evidently Zeb Ruel had regained the other party. - -Ned was in a quandary whether to hasten to join them, to search for -Fannie, or to follow up the faint clue that lay before him, which might -lead to the discovery of his lost friend and almost brother, Fred -Hawksley. With an effort he decided. - -“It is what Fannie would wish, did she know it,” he muttered, as he -shook the reins free. “There are better eyes than mine at work over -yonder, and I could do no particular good. She would tell me to hunt for -poor Fred.” - -Campbell was following the trail of the spotted mustang, bending low in -his saddle, for the ground was rapidly becoming more hard as he -advanced, and the small hoofs had not cut deeply into the turf. Though -keen-eyed, the young hunter soon found that he must dismount, or run the -risk of losing the trail altogether. - -Like a well-trained dog, the big bay horse followed him at a little -distance. Step by step Ned picked up the trail, that gradually grew -fainter and more indistinct. - -Its course led along nearly equidistant from the _motte_ and the -_baranca_, yet heading so that, if maintained, the _baranca_ would be -headed. Yet Ned knew that this could not have been done, in the short -time that he was hidden from view. He knew that the trail either entered -the wood or else the _baranca_. - -If the former, he must find it; if the latter, a few minutes’ delay -would matter little, as the rider could not possibly leave it without -his knowledge, for both ends were within his range of vision. Reasoning -thus, Campbell kept on for over half a mile, more than once losing the -trail, only to find it again the next moment. - -But now he lost it altogether. A strip of flinty ground led from the -_baranca_ clear to the timber’s edge. At the edge of this strip, all -traces ended. - -One glance decided this, and then Campbell skirted the further side, -until at the underbrush. He saw that a horse could not have forced a -passage into the timber without leaving unmistakable traces of so doing. -A grim smile lighted up his countenance. He knew now that the _baranca_ -contained his quarry. - -“So much settled,” he muttered, triumphantly. “I don’t think the time is -lost, for now I will have only one side to watch. Come, Miss, madam, -whichever you may be. I think you will find it harder to pull the wool -over my eyes now than last week. It’s you and I for it now, and the -smartest brain wins.” - -Signing for his horse to follow him, Campbell looked to his rifle, and -glided toward the edge of the _baranca_. He paused upon the edge, and -while closely scrutinizing much of its bottom as possible from his -position, he meditated deeply. - -“It’s plain,” he muttered, finally, “she took the piebald with her, else -I must have seen its tracks. There are places where a horse can be -concealed down there, but not many. Now shall I go down and hunt her -out? No—were it only for myself, I would, and take the chances of her -picking me off with that rifle of hers. But then! Fred. I won’t lose the -game now by carelessness or foolishness. She must come out some time. I -can stand it as long as she can. But first, for a good stand. Ha! I have -it—the pile of rocks. She must be this side of that, for a goat could -scarcely clamber over it. That will do. Then I’ll only have one way to -look.” - -Ned only hesitated for a moment, then narrowly examined the side of the -_baranca_. As another proof that his suspicions were well founded, he -soon discovered a path, narrow and steep, yet amply wide enough to -permit a sure-footed horse to ascend or descend without much difficulty, -leading down to the bottom of the ravine. His keen eye could detect the -signs of hoofs having pressed its surface, though how recently could -only be surmised. - -“It leads in the right direction, too—that is, toward the pile of rocks. -Somewhere near that I believe lies the secret. If so, the game’s mine.” - -The young hunter had decided upon his course. Craft and cunning must be -his aid now. The stakes played for were far too important to be lost by -a rash or premature move. - -Motioning his horse to remain stationary, Ned hastened to the timber and -soon secured several small leafy branches, and a handful of dried grass. -Holding these, he glided cautiously along the escarpment, his eyes -closely scanning every foot of the bottom. - -He neared the rocky barricade without discovering any thing that could -possibly afford concealment for a horse, and then crouching down, he -narrowly examined the pile. It will be remembered that he, in company -with the other young hunters, had searched the _opposite_ side of the -barricade, on the night Fred Hawksley disappeared. - -Campbell saw numerous crevices and small cavities, but none nearly large -enough to admit the passage of a horse, yet, knowing that upon this -point rested his last chance, he set about his work. First he started -the big horse out, a few yards from the escarpment, beyond sight from -the ravine, yet so that a single leap would carry him ready to mount. -Then with strips cut from his hunting-shirt, he carefully bound the -twigs and dried grass upon his head and shoulders, in such a manner that -his vision was unobstructed, while concealing his form. This arranged to -his satisfaction, he lay down upon the ground, with eyes riveted upon -the rocky pile, his weapons ready for use. - -Ned was a true hunter. More than once he had lain in wait for game -almost without stirring a muscle, for half a day. And now this quality -stood him in good stead; only this time his game was human. - -For two hours he lay motionless, patiently watching, only shifting his -gaze occasionally up the _baranca_, to make sure that his quarry was not -escaping him in that direction. As he cautiously turned his head toward -the barricade, after one of these glances, a glow of light filled his -eyes, and he started convulsively. - -He saw that his surmises were well founded. Before him stood the -woman—the strange rider whom he firmly believed to be a decoy for some -deep and subtle purpose. - -Campbell could plainly distinguish her features, together with the upper -portion of her form as she stood behind a bowlder, her face uplifted -toward his position. Even in that brief glance he was forcibly impressed -with her beauty. - -He had time but for the one glance, for then the vision disappeared like -magic. How, was plain. He could still see the dark niche that her form -had filled, and he knew that this must be the entrance to some -underground retreat that had, most probably, been washed out by the -surgings of the water that frequently filled the _baranca_ to its brim, -in the rainy seasons. - -His resolution was taken in a moment. He forgot his usual prudence, in -the thought that the solution of his friend’s strange disappearance lay -within his grasp. He did not give a thought to the danger he might be -running, nor of the force he might encounter in his search for the -strange woman. - -“Run to earth at last!” he muttered as he looked to the caps of his -revolvers. “You shall not escape me this time. I’ll know where Fred is -if I have to force the words from your lips.” - -Campbell critically scanned the side of the _baranca_ beneath him. It -was precipitous, and yet he did not like to lose the time for going up -to the path. So lowering himself by the hands, he dropped lightly to the -rocky ground beneath, accomplishing the feat in safety. - -Drawing a revolver, he cautiously moved the rocky pile, his eyes riveted -upon the opening in which he had beheld the strange woman. As he peered -into the dark hole, for the first time a doubt as to the prudence of his -course struck him, and he hesitated, in doubt whether it would not be -wise to signal to his friends, knowing that the smoke column would -quickly bring some of them to his side. - -Better for him had he followed this plan, but with the game so close at -hand, he could not bring himself to wait. Perhaps, after all, she was -alone. - -Forcing himself to believe this, Campbell placed a hand upon the -bowlder, and lightly vaulted into the crevice. All before him seemed -dark and black, and he paused for a moment to accustom his eyes to the -change. - -At that juncture a slight rustling sound met his ear, and quick as -thought, he threw forward his left arm, at the same time raising his -pistol. The action was purely instinctive, for he could see nothing, but -it probably saved his life. - -A crushing blow from some unseen weapon fell upon his fore-arm, hurling -it helpless to his side, then all was a blank. The same blow had fallen, -though with broken force, full upon his forehead, felling him senseless -to the rocks. - -The sight of this strange woman had set Campbell’s brain on fire, and he -acted without the slightest precaution or forethought. Had he but -reflected for a moment, he must have known that she had noticed him, -recognizing the presence of an enemy, even through the disguising grass -and twigs. What else could have caused her sudden retreat? But Ned was -too greatly excited to notice this, and he suffered the consequences. - -How long he remained insensible he never knew, but it must have been for -some time, for, when he awoke, a scene something similar to that which -met the wounded outlaw’s astonished gaze greeted his vision. The -experience of the two men had been almost exactly similar. Both had -narrowly escaped death at the hands of the same being—the old man, -Albert Mestayer. - -But Ned was more fortunate, in that he found his hurts carefully -dressed. This was the first point that he noticed on returning to -consciousness. The next was, that a thong or cord of some kind held his -feet firmly to the rude but comfortable pallet upon which he lay. - -“Father, he has awakened,” uttered a low, soft voice from close to his -head, and Campbell heard a faint rustle there. - -The voice thrilled through his brain like liquid music. Never before had -he heard tones so sweet or melodious. In wonder at it, he forgot his -hurts, his perilous situation—every thing but the voice. - -A light step echoed through the rock-bound chamber, and a tall form came -and stood over him, with folded arms, gazing down upon his countenance -with vividly-glowing eyes. It was the man who had called himself Albert -Mestayer, but Ned could not remember having ever met him before. - -“You are right, Lola. Go, now. I wish to be alone with this man for a -time.” - -A light, graceful form glided past him and paused within range of -Campbell’s vision, her eyes resting softly upon his face. A light of -pity seemed to beam from their liquid depths as she uttered: - -“You will not—not harm him, father?” - -“Go—it is not your place to question me. You forget yourself, child,” -sternly replied Mestayer, his brow contracting. - -With another glance at the bewildered hunter, Lola disappeared from -view. Then the eyes of the two men met fully, and Campbell read in those -of the tall man a depth of hatred that for a moment chilled his blood. -But then his courage returned, and he was once more himself, cool and -collected. - -“Well, sir, will you tell me what this treatment means, if, as I -suppose, you are the one who struck me in the dark?” - -“And may I ask why you were prowling round my home with drawn revolver?” -retorted Mestayer. - -“I was seeking for a friend, and had reason to believe that he was -detained here by force,” boldly added Campbell, closely eying the old -man; but the sneering smile didn’t change in the least. - -“Who do you allude to?” - -“Fred Hawksley. He followed your—that woman here, a week ago, and has -not been seen or heard of since.” - -“How do you know that he came here?” - -“I was with the party that followed him and her. We saw by the trail -that he came here.” - -“I thought as much. Well, there is no need of keeping the truth from -you, for I don’t think you will ever betray me—for a very good reason. -He did come here—in much the same manner that you did. But he is not -here now,” and the old man laughed diabolically. - -“You did not murder him?” faltered Campbell. - -“Never mind. You had far better be thinking of your own self. It may be -beyond your power to do so ere long.” - -“Threatened men live long. But tell me: _where is Fannie Hawksley_?” -suddenly added the young hunter. - -This random shaft told. Mestayer started and seemed confused. Campbell -saw that his sudden suspicion was correct. - -“How did you find—what do you know about that? But bah! I’m a fool. It’s -only guess-work. You are nobody’s fool, my friend. I give you credit for -that. But first—before I answer you, what is she to you that you take -such an interest in her?” - -“She is my promised wife.” - -“_Was_, you mean. I am glad to see that I was not misinformed. Prepare -yourself, my poor friend, for some affecting news,” he added, mockingly. -“Your true love is no more. However, you have one consolation. You will -not be long separated from her.” - -“Bah! I know you are lying—I can see it in your eyes,” scornfully -retorted the young hunter. - -Mestayer started and his face flushed darkly, his eyes blazing with -anger. His clenched fist uprose as if to deal a crushing blow upon the -pale but undaunted face of the hunter, when a lithe form sprung forward -and caught his arm. It was Lola. - -“Father—think what you do! Strike a bound and helpless man—for shame!” - -With an effort that seemed wondrous in a man so old, he hurled the -maiden across the chamber, with a bitter curse. - -For a moment Campbell thought he meant to slay her, but then with an -effort, Mestayer calmed his passion, saying in a stern tone: - -“Go, now, and see that you keep your station. No more eavesdropping, or -it will be the worse for you. Stay—I forgot. Remain here and keep guard -over this man, until I return. It is time James was going.” - -Lola returned and sunk down beside the couch where lay the young hunter. -His gaze followed her motions and then their eyes met; but only for a -moment. Then Lola’s eyes drooped, a burning blush suffusing her rich -complexion. Very different was her appearance then from what it had been -when confronting James Mestayer, under somewhat similar circumstances. - -In point of fact she was in greater peril at that moment than Campbell -himself. The face of the handsome hunter had made a deep impression upon -her heart, and for the first time in her life, Lola began to realize the -meaning of the term, _love_. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - AT BAY. - - -When he left Ned Campbell, Albert Mestayer entered the first chamber or -cell, where we a week previously to this date, found him bending over -the wounded leader of the Night Hawks. Here that worthy, now recognized -as a nephew of the old man, was idly lolling upon a pallet of skins, his -wounds almost entirely cured. - -He raised himself to a sitting posture as the old man entered, casting -at him a quick, inquiring glance. Evidently the doughty leader of the -Night Hawks regarded his newly-found relative with considerable respect. - -“Well?” he added, as the old man approached. - -“It _is_ well, so far, but we must work to keep it so. This young fellow -tracked us home, and his are not the sharpest eyes on the border. -Hawksley is out with the settlers. They may find this place at any hour, -and then, though I could make a good fight first, my revenge would be -cut short by death. You know my reasons for acting thus, because I have -told you my story. Well, the time has come for you to play your part. I -need your help now, because I can not leave Lola here alone. Are you -ready to keep your oath?” - -“Yes. Tell me what I am to do, and I will not fail for lack of trying,” -was the prompt reply. - -“Good! I like to hear men answer like that. But now listen. You remember -what I told you about the Kiowa chief, Chigilli?” - -“Yes.” - -“Well, you must go from here, to him, as speedily as possible. Tell him -that the time has come when he can strike the blow. Tell him that his -white father asks the aid of his strong arm. Or stay—I can do better -than that. See—Chigilli gave this to me. It is his totem; this border is -made from sacred wampum. Give this to him and bid him follow you. Lead -him and his band here. When you come I will have all in readiness for -the blow. You shall have Mary Colton—though she is one of the accursed, -I spare her life, because I know that as _your_ slave, her life will be -worse than death.” - -“You are complimentary,” muttered the outlaw, in a slightly bitter tone. - -“I speak the truth. But let that pass. You must go now. You have not -forgotten any of my instructions? You remember the rendezvous?” - -“I forget nothing. But how am I to go? On your horse?” - -“No. I may have use for him. But our young friend left his horse staked -out upon the prairie above. Take it—that will be the easiest way to -dispose of it, to keep it from telling troublesome tales. Ride out from -the _baranca_ until you strike ground that will take and hold a trail, -then round the head of the ravine. After that do not spare the brute. -Horse-flesh is cheap, and Chigilli will furnish you with a remount.” - -“But why—” - -“For this reason. If this Ned Campbell is missed—which of course will be -the case—search will be made for him. His horse’s trail will be struck -here. As it leads, so will they follow, and play into our hands by -meeting you half-way. In that case, you know what to do. The Kiowas are -eager for scalps. Let them take all they can—only tell Chigilli that he -must bring me Hawksley a _prisoner_. You understand?” - -“Yes.” - -“Good. Now go and ride for life. By nightfall you can reach the -rendezvous—by day-dawn you should be well on your road back here.” - -But few more words were spoken, and James Mestayer left the strange -retreat, and, after first cautiously scouring the surrounding prairie, -dragged himself over the escarpment. After some little trouble, he -secured the suspicious horse, and literally obeying the old man’s -instructions, soon rounded the _baranca’s_ head, then galloping swiftly -away toward the west. - -Hour after hour throughout that long day, he urged on the big horse, -plying the spurs heavily and mercilessly, with only a few brief -intervals for breathing his steed. Nowhere in the world are such -reckless riders as in the Texan prairies, or among the cattle-districts -of Kansas. Nowhere is so little regard paid to the life of a horse. - -I know of one instance where a young man, naturally generous, -affectionate and kind-hearted, on a two days’ trip rode three ponies -until they dropped dead under the saddle. And this with no more urgent -cause than that he was eager to meet with his relatives after a nine -months’ sojourn herding cattle in lower Kansas. In forty hours—two days -and one night—he rode three hundred and seventy-odd miles. - -As the sun set, Mestayer caught sight of the hill-range in which he knew -the Kiowa chief was awaiting a message from the old man, his “white -father.” With bloody heel he urged on the heavily-laboring horse, though -the blood-stained froth that dropped in flakes from its mouth, told -plainly that the creature’s race was well-nigh run. - -While yet the western sky was flecked with crimson, the end came, -finding Mestayer prepared for it. Well knowing the symptoms, he was -ready for the fall, and when the big bay fell forward heavily, the blood -bursting from his nostrils, Mestayer alighted nimbly upon his feet, and -without a second glance at the poor brute, he started forward with long, -swinging strides that spoke well for his powers as a pedestrian. - -The dark, broken hill-range was near, and at a glance the outlaw -recognized the landmarks given him by his uncle, and he knew that his -course had been shaped aright. Raising a hand to his mouth, he uttered a -long-drawn, vibrating cry—the shrill view-hallo of the Kiowas. A few -moments later there came to his ears a similar cry, only more perfectly -modulated, and then a single horseman rode forth from a rocky defile -that partially intersected the hills. - -Despite his assurance that Chigilli was friendly, Mestayer twitched his -revolver around more convenient to his hand, loosening it in the sheath. -More than once he had experienced the treacherous nature of Indians, and -the Kiowas were notorious for their proficiency in that respect. - -The savage drew rein close beside the outlaw, and a brief but keen -scrutiny followed, as though each was mentally measuring the other. -Mestayer was somewhat surprised at the appearance of Chigilli. -Naturally, one takes it for granted that a famous warrior must be an -important person in looks as well as reality. Instead, the Kiowa chief -was small—almost a dwarf, in fact; of slight, ill-shaped figure, old and -wrinkled, with only one eye. But that burned brightly, and the numerous -scars, together with the broad saber-slash that had destroyed his left -eye, together with a portion of his nose, testified plainly that he had -borne his part in more than one desperate affray. - -“Who are you that sounds the Kiowa cry, yet wear the skin of a -pale-face?” demanded Chigilli, in slightly accented English, his -half-breed mother having taught him her father’s tongue. - -For answer Mestayer produced the slip of wampum-enriched deer-skin, and -handed it to the chief. Chigilli’s stern countenance instantly relaxed, -and he henceforth treated the outlaw with the greatest deference and -courtesy. Mestayer quickly made known the purport of his visit, and -delivered, word for word, his uncle’s message. - -Chigilli seemed a little vexed, but soon explained the cause. While -waiting for the message from his white father, which was longer in -coming than he had expected, his band had become separated, by far the -larger portion being then in pursuit of a drove of buffaloes that had -passed by on the run, the day before. Fearing to lose such an -opportunity for securing a supply of meat for his lodges in winter, he -had dispatched all but twenty of his men after the herd. - -Mestayer was positive. There must be no delay; such as could not be -avoided were they to send a runner to recall the hunters. He must return -at once, whether Chigilli kept his pledge or not. - -This decided the chief, and half an hour later he led the twenty -warriors out from the rocky defile. Behind him, upon the broad, smooth -surface of a rock, were depicted sundry rude signs and symbols, drawn -with a finger-point covered with dampened powder. These were directions -for the guidance of the buffalo-hunters, bidding them hasten after. - -Mestayer found that he would not be able to regain the _baranca_ retreat -by daybreak, for the east was showing light streaks when there remained -still a dozen or more miles to be covered. Then came an interruption, -before another mile was traversed. - -Events had occurred much as the old man, Albert Mestayer, had foreseen. -Zeb Ruel had rejoined the other party of trail-hunters, informing them -of where and how he had left Ned Campbell. In due course of time the -young man was missed, searched for, and the trail found. They followed -it after the outlaws had taken it up, round the _baranca_, and out into -the prairie. As night fell they went into camp, when they were joined by -others of the settlers who had turned out to take part in the hunt. - -It may be as well to state here the cause of the smoke-signal having -been made. Following the trail of the men on foot, the party had been -considerably delayed by Hawksley’s having a fit of apoplexy, in -consequence of his deep emotions. As soon as his senses returned, he -urged them to lose no time, but to keep on the trail, and when his -strength returned, he would follow on after them. They did so, the trail -ending at last in their finding the senseless body of a white man, whom -they naturally took to be the abductor of Fannie. For this reason they -sent up the smoke. Noticing the signal, Hawksley managed to mount his -horse and ride to the spot. His disappointment at seeing a stranger was -great, and brought on another and more severe fit. While it lasted, and -while the attention of all was directed toward him, the outlaw breathed -his last. This was the state of affairs when Zeb Ruel came in and told -his story. After some discussion, it was decided to go back and take up -Ned Campbell’s trail, in hopes that, should he capture the strange -rider, the mystery might be elucidated. - -This party it was that now confronted the Kiowas, under guidance of the -ex-captain of Night Hawks. Mestayer was by no means pleased at the -meeting, for he saw that the settlers were nearly equal in numbers to -the Kiowas, and he also knew that they were much better armed, each man -bearing a rifle and at least one revolver, more generally two of these -terrible weapons. - -As the Kiowas were nominally at peace with the whites, a collision might -and probably would have been avoided, only for one thing. Jack Colton -was among the trail-hunters, and he recognized the would-be murderer of -his brother. - -With a wild cry he plunged spurs rowel-deep into his horse’s flanks and -sprung forward, leveling his rifle as he did so. It cracked—one of the -savages riding close behind Mestayer, uttered a shrill death-yell, and -fell to the ground, dead. - -That put an end to all doubt. Sounding his war-cry, Chigilli led the -charge, and the next moment the two bodies were mingled together. For -several minutes the conflict raged with deadly ferocity, but the -superior weapons of the settlers quickly turned the tide in their favor. - -Jack Colton had singled out the outlaw guide, and nothing loth, Mestayer -gratified his desire, though still feeling the effects of his wounds. -Their horses came violently together just as their pistols spoke for the -first time. - -Rearing, Colton’s horse received the bullet between its eyes and fell, -hurling Colton violently to the ground, where he lay, stunned for the -moment. Mestayer discharged a second shot at him, but with unsteady aim, -and a slight flesh wound was the only result; then he was forced to turn -his attention to other foemen. - -Chigilli gave the signal to retreat, seeing that he was over-matched. -The hills were near at hand, and for them their horses’ heads were -turned, in full flight. - -So sudden was this movement that the settlers did not comprehend its -meaning until the Kiowas had gained full two-score yards the start. But -then they dashed on in hot pursuit. - -No man living understands better how to extract every ounce of service -from a mustang than does a Kiowa, and though riding by far the most -jaded horses, they slowly increased their vantage-ground, aided by the -fact that the settlers devoted much of their care to pistol practice; at -best but an uncertain art while riding a galloping horse. - -They realized their error and strove to remedy it, but too late. The -Kiowas had gained too many yards to be overtaken, and the cunning -Chigilli well knew what he was about. He was rushing for a point from -which his force could easily hold the settlers in check, or at least -inflict fearful slaughter in case they should try a desperate charge -first. - -Zeb Ruel divined their purpose first, and kept the settlers from going -too far. He knew a plan worth two of that, and as the Kiowas disappeared -in a narrow, defile-like cleft, the settlers drew rein. - -“Quick—Fenton, you an’ Morley come ’th me,” he cried, eagerly. “Rest o’ -you stay here an’ keep the imps back ef they try to run out. We’ll fix -’em—hurry.” - -As he spoke he turned his horse’s head to one side and dashed rapidly up -to the hill’s base, here steep and rugged. Though not exactly -comprehending his purpose, the two men designated by name followed him -without hesitation. - -Dismounting they clambered rapidly up the hill, soon gaining the top. An -exultant shout broke from Ruel’s lips as he saw that he was in time. If -indeed the Kiowas contemplated escape by such means, they would find -their path a gantlet of death. - -The defile alluded to ended in a steep hill, up which a horse could -climb, though with difficulty. This once surmounted, a broad, gentle -slope led down to the prairie beyond. Ruel’s position commanded this -ascent, and was within easy pistol range. - -“Good! we’ve got ’em in a hole, now!” he chuckled, breathing hard with -fatigue. “We kin make things hot for ’em, I reckon!” - -But, though he suspected it not, he was even then, in a measure, being -outwitted. Chigilli had no intention of fleeing further. With his men -dismounted and well covered, he felt able to beat back the settlers -should they attack him, until help should arrive, and not a score -seconds before Ruel reached his station, a Kiowa crossed the ridge, sent -to hurry up the other band! - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - A STRANGE PROPOSAL. - - -The hours dragged by drearily enough with Ned Campbell, though for a -part of the time he had the beautiful Lola for a guard. But after the -first flush of surprise, Ned gave her little attention. His mind was -filled with thoughts of his lost love, Fannie Hawksley, whom the old -man, his captor, declared was dead. Though the young hunter tried to -believe this a falsehood, his success was only partial. At times he -would believe that Fannie was indeed dead—murdered—and in the agony of -his soul he would groan aloud, almost praying for death that he might be -reunited to her, in spirit if not in life. - -Campbell was aroused from one of these fits of gloomy despondency by a -low, taunting laugh sounding from close beside him, and hastily glancing -up, he perceived that the old man had taken Lola’s position. The almost -diabolical expression of triumph that rested upon his face, startled the -young hunter, and he resolved to give his enemy no more such gleeful -moments. - -“Who are you that my misery should give you so much pleasure?” he -demanded, with ill-concealed curiosity. - -“I promised to tell you—and this is as good a time as any to keep my -word,” slowly replied the old man, sinking down upon the rude stool that -had been so recently occupied by a much more agreeable figure. “You may -or you may not remember something of the matter, when I tell you that my -name is Albert Mestayer.” - -As he spoke, his gaze was riveted firmly upon the young man’s -countenance. Though expressing curiosity, there was no change to -indicate that Campbell had ever heard of the name before. - -“I see you do not know—I might have known that they would never have -told you. It is well. You will not be so prejudiced, and will be more -likely to do me justice. Now listen well, and you will see why I hate -your family and that of Hawksley. - -“We three were close neighbors living then in the southern part of -Illinois. Almost from childhood we had been play-mates and bosom -friends. And such we might have remained to this day, only for the -treachery of one—of Christopher Hawksley, the brother of Archibald. - -“We three men married, but he—Chris—was single. Though living with his -brother, he was quite as much at home while at your father’s house, or -at mine. Indeed the gossips began to whisper that he was more so, and to -point the finger of scorn at me. - -“For a time I closed my ears to these rumors, but at my heart there -gnawed a horrible fear that what I dreaded was but too well founded. He -and she had long been intimate, and at one time were reported betrothed, -but then a coldness came between them, and she accepted me. You see, -young man, I am frank with you,” and Mestayer smiled bitterly. “I mean -to tell you all—both for and against myself. - -“I spoke to her of the rumors, but she was of a quick, passionate -temper, and for the first time since marriage we had hot and angry words -together. She refused to answer me, saying that I insulted her by the -suspicion. While still angry, I met Christopher Hawksley and forbid him -ever entering my house, or addressing my wife at any time or place where -they might chance to meet. - -“He seemed surprised—I thought then that he looked guilty, and I could -scarcely keep my hands from his throat. But I did, and went home with a -heart still more bitter and wicked. - -“Three days after this, as I returned from the field somewhat earlier -than usual, I saw Hawksley parting from my wife at the door. They seemed -frightened and confused at my appearance, and I dare say they had cause. - -“The next I remember is finding myself standing over his quivering and -senseless body, my hands covered with blood, my wife crying for me to -have mercy—not to stain my soul with murder. I had not killed because I -had no weapons with me, I suppose. But I had beaten him almost to death -with my naked fists. - -“Well, the word soon spread that I had brutally murdered the man, and -the excitement was great. Hawksley was one of those general favorites, -half-fool, half-rogue, who spent his money with a lavish hand, making -friends with everybody, while I, naturally reserved, had become morose -and unsociable since these sickening rumors began to meet my ear. So you -see it took very little to get up a hue and cry against me. - -“Arch. Hawksley came and removed his brother. That night, though the -doctors pronounced Chris. in no immediate danger, a mob, led by those -who had once been my dearest friends—_your_ father and Arch. -Hawksley—came and took me from my bed, dragging me out-doors amid curses -and threats, some even beating me with clubs and their fists as I was -hauled helplessly along over the rough ground, half naked, only in my -night-clothes. - -“Well, you can guess the rest. The favorite punishment of western mobs, -when they do not wish to _quite_ murder, was given me. I was tarred and -feathered! And for what? I have told you. You can judge whether I -deserved it or not. And, mind you, _your_ father and Archibald Hawksley -were the leaders in the movement. By _their_ orders the others acted. Do -you wonder that I promised never to forgive them? - -“After this, they set me free. Half mad I plunged into the swampy woods, -where I lay until morning. By that time I had in a manner regained my -coolness, and had decided upon my course of action. I knew that I had -one true friend near me, and to his hut I hastened. This was a -middle-aged negro. I had won him from his master half a dozen years -before, on a Mississippi steamboat, playing cards. It was the planter’s -last stake, and I could not refuse. When I gave Sam his choice, he -elected to go with me. At the end of my trip I gave him his freedom, and -he now lived on a piece of my land. - -“He removed the tar, and tenderly nursed me through a long and severe -illness, brought on by exposure and excitement. During all this he had -kept my existence a secret, and all believed that I had thrown myself in -the river to hide my shame. Sam also kept close watch upon my house, and -when he considered me strong enough, he told me what he had learned. - -“My wife took my death very easily, it seemed. Chris. Hawksley had been -seen visiting her. That was enough. I swore then that I would have a -deep and bitter revenge—that I would devote my entire life to that end. - -“Sam was true to me, body and soul. What I said was law. He aided me in -my scheme, by procuring me weapons, clothes and such articles as I -needed. Then I watched my chance. It soon came. - -“Sam brought me the word. Christopher Hawksley was at my house. I -hastened there, cool and calm as I am now, though I had resolved that -they both should die that night. - -“I kept my oath. They were together in my wife’s room. They never left -it alive. I shot him, and entered the room. The woman who had been my -wife, fell upon her knees and begged for mercy, swearing that she was -innocent. But I knew that she lied. I had seen too much. - -“I raised my hand and struck her. She fell forward bathed in blood. I -did not know that I had a knife in my hand, until I saw that. - -“His death only inspired me with a ferocious joy. I gloried in my act of -vengeance. But when I saw her lying there, gasping out her life, I -changed. I had loved her so tenderly and true, until she fell from me. I -had idolized her almost. And yet—I had killed her!” - -The old man choked and paused. Campbell, pale and horror-stricken, did -not speak. Then Mestayer, with an effort, resumed, his head bowed upon -his hands, his voice sounding like that of one talking in a dream. - -“How long I remained there I do not know, but it must have been for -hours. The alarm was given by some one who had heard the shot and -investigated it. The neighbors came and found me sitting there, _her_ -head upon my breast, her form clasped tight to my heart. Despite this -they knew that I was the murderer. My revolver lay there, with one -chamber discharged, as the blue gas around the tube showed, recently. My -knife—with initials carved upon the horn handle—was beside me, covered -with blood. - -“They say that I acted like a madman when they tried to remove her body. -But numbers prevailed, and I was bound. The next I remember I was in the -county jail, tried and condemned to death. But trusty Sam didn’t fail -me. - -“He set me free—I have not patience now to tell all that he had to do, -but he was at work for three nights before I was set free. Then, just as -I mounted the horse he had brought for my use, we were discovered. Sam -struck the horse a heavy blow that maddened it, and I was saved, though -I tried to turn and aid him. - -“Yes, he—the simple, unlearned negro—he saved me, at the cost of his own -life. He was shot, but he kept the guards engaged until I was beyond -their reach. Thus I lost my only friend. - -“I had only one thing to live for—_revenge_. I swore to devote my life -to that one end—and I have not yet forgotten my oath. For a time I kept -in hiding, but then I set to work. _You_ are the first one that knows -for a certainty how your father died. _I_ shot him.” - -Campbell uttered a hoarse cry, and strove to arise, his eyes blazing -with horror and vengeance. But the strong cords restrained his fury. - -“And why—what had he done to you?” - -“I have told you. Besides, I swore that I would destroy the entire race -of the Hawksleys and Campbells. Boy, my wife was your father’s sister.” - -Campbell listened in astonishment. Until now he had believed his father -had been an only child. But there was something in the old man’s tones -that told him he was speaking the truth. - -“I am telling you the truth, though you seem to doubt it. But that -matters little. I need only tell you a little more. After I killed your -father, I had to hide again. I fled to New Orleans. While there, I met a -Spanish creole and married her. Had she lived, I might have reformed, -for I loved her with all my hot, fiery nature. But she died, leaving me -one babe—you have seen her here—Lola. - -“For a time I lived in retirement, caring only for my child, teaching -her, as she grew older, to hate all mankind but her father. I succeeded, -as I thought. Then I left her at school, and set forth to strike another -blow. I found my enemies gone, they had removed, and I feared to inquire -of those who could have told me where, lest I should be recognized. - -“For years I hunted you—you and the Hawksleys. I did not find you until -this spring. By chance I found this retreat, and fitted it up for use. -Then I brought Lola here. You remember the excitement that she caused, -as the strange rider—a better name would have been _decoy_, for that was -her duty. I first gained her good views of those I hated—just how does -not matter now. - -“Her first success was in luring Fred Hawksley here. Then I stole away -his sister—your betrothed, as you say. _You_ came next. After you will -come your sister Mary Colton. Then the rest of the Hawksleys. Before -forty-eight hours roll by, all of those included in my vow of vengeance -will be dead—_dead_, do you hear?” hissed Westmayer, in a low, malignant -tone of voice. - -“But Fannie—you have not—” - -“It matters little to _you_ whether she be dead or not. If not, she will -be, soon. So will you. But I need the fresh air. I leave you to think of -what I have told you, and to compose your mind for what is to come. If -you sleep, pleasant dreams—ha! ha!” and laughing malignantly, the -monomaniac left the chamber. - -The conflicting emotions that racked Campbell’s mind on hearing this -strange disclosure, can scarcely be imagined—most certainly not -described. Besides clearing up the mystery that had enshrouded his -father’s murder, it also revealed to him the full peril that threatened -his own as well as the lives of his friends. - -So deeply buried was he in thought that he did not hear the soft -footfall nor the faint rustle as Lola seated herself beside him. Her -large, dark eyes were filled with a gentle light foreign to her fiery, -passionate nature, and her cheek glowed with the swift flow of blood. - -As Campbell, aroused by that strange consciousness one feels when being -fixedly gazed upon, raised his eyes, his face darkened with a frown. In -a harsh tone he uttered: - -“Well, I am waiting—proceed. Of course you come here to tell me some -frightful story of how I have wronged you, possibly through my -great-grandchildren, or something of that sort, and that you have sworn -deadly vengeance against me and mine. Proceed—but for pity’s sake, cut -it short.” - -“You wrong me, Mr. Campbell,” and Lola’s voice sounded low and soft. “I -am no enemy of yours—I would be your friend, if you would permit.” - -“My friend—and _his_ daughter?” - -“I often think that I am _not_ his daughter—that he is mad—a monomaniac, -who does not know what he does or says. I overheard what he told you, -for I feared that he meant to kill you, and I resolved to prevent that, -if it cost my own life. It is the same story, almost word for word, that -he has told me scores of times. But—whether that is true or not—I am not -your enemy, since seeing you. Before, I hated you, because he taught me -to do so. He made me believe that all men were evil, treacherous beings, -but—I don’t think _you_ are,” and Lola drooped her eyes before the -steady gaze of the young hunter. - -“What is your object in telling me this?” he asked, slowly. - -“To prove to you that I am a friend, not an enemy, as you seemed to -regard me.” - -“_Will_ you prove this? You can, if you wish. Will you do it?” added -Campbell, with ill-suppressed eagerness. - -“How can I?” softly, with a quick glance at him. - -“Easily. Unloosen these cords, restore my weapons, and I will believe -that you are a true, earnest friend.” - -“So that you might kill my father?” - -“No. I would not harm him unless he first attacked me. Then I would -defend myself.” - -“He would kill me!” - -“With me you would be safe. I will take you to any point you wish, or, -if you would rather, my mother will welcome you to her home.” - -Their gaze met, but only for a moment, then the eyes of the strange girl -sunk, and a low sigh fluttered her lips. The face of the young hunter, -though open and earnest, had not told her the tale she wished and hoped -to hear. - -“You asked my father about your friends. He gave you to understand that -they were dead. One of them still lives.” - -“What—Fannie—” eagerly began Ned, his dark eyes gleaming. - -“No—the young man,” and Lola’s face turned a shade paler. - -“Merciful God!” groaned Campbell, quivering with intense heart-agony. - -“Then it is true, as you told father—you loved this girl?” - -“Better than my life! And now—but no—you are only trying me,” he added, -looking up imploringly. “Tell me she is still living?” - -“Why should I lie to you? She is dead—but her blood is not on his hands. -He fought to save her, but one of the men shot her, as he was bringing -her here. The other—your friend, still lives, though badly wounded. -Could I believe in your gratitude, I would set both yourself and him -free.” - -“You crush all my hopes, then taunt me with freedom—I have nothing to -live for now,” bitterly replied Ned. - -“Your mother?” - -“True, I forgot for a moment. Well, speak plain. What pledge do you -require? What do you wish me to do?” he added, wearily. - -“Make me a solemn promise—pledge me your honor as a gentleman to make me -your—your wife, and I will free you both.” - -“What!” - -“Let me finish. I know that my words seem strange, unlady-like, if you -will, but consider what my past life has been. And yet, I have only -obeyed my father. I have never sinned of my own free will. He thinks me -all ice, but I can love, I _do_ love; I have loved with all my soul ever -since you came here. Now you know my heart. To win your love I am -willing to disown father—all else.” - -“I have no love to give you. It was all _hers_—my poor, lost Fannie’s,” -muttered Ned, yet strongly affected by the passionate, yet pleading -tones of the strange girl. - -“You will in time—I do not ask nor expect it all at once. I will love -you so tenderly and wholly that you _must_ return it, in time.” - -“If you loved me as you say, you would free me and trust to my gratitude -for your reward.” - -“And thus lose you forever? No—no! I would rather, far rather kill you -here, then take my own life, than to run that risk,” cried Lola, her -eyes flaming. - -A strong temptation was upon him. Why not dissimulate,—or even give a -positive pledge, if by these means he could gain freedom? - -“Wait—I must think of this a little. I can not answer you now,” he said, -at length. - -“You must be quick, for there’s no time to lose. Father will soon -return. And he is looking for his messenger, sent to bring a band of -savages here. They intend attacking the settlements, when your mother, -sister, and the Hawksley family will be captured. Decide quickly, and -you may be in time to save them.” - - - - - CHAPTER X. - THE CLEW. - - -Though Chigilli, the Kiowa chief, had acted so promptly in dispatching a -runner for reinforcements, that fact was likely to avail him little, for -the movements of the settlers were prompt and decided. The outlaw, James -Mestayer, was the cause of this. - -First, Jack Colton had recognized him, and now, recovered from the -effects of his fall, was eager to attack them. Then Archibald Hawksley, -in the confused struggle, believed that in him he saw the abductor of -his daughter. - -Though it was Albert Mestayer who performed that deed, his disguise had -made him look like a much younger man, and there was a family -resemblance between the uncle and nephew, so that Hawksley’s mistake was -natural. - -A plan of attack, bold and daring, was quickly arranged. - -“Jack Colton, you will take one-half of the men, and I’ll lead the -others,” hurriedly commanded Hawksley. “You go to the right and gain the -foot of the hill. Then when I give the signal, close in. But remember, -the white man must be taken _alive_.” - -Separating, the two parties rode up to the hill base, then dismounting, -drew their revolvers, ready for work. At the signal they glided rapidly -along, and soon reached the defile before a shot was fired. - -Then ensued a scene of frightful confusion. It was not a fight that can -be drawn in words, for each man fought on his own hook, singling out his -foe with eyes for naught else. - -Though brief, it was bloody in the extreme. For a few moments the Kiowas -fought bravely, but then the rapid detonation of the white men’s -revolvers proved too much for their courage, and the survivors fled up -the hollow, only to encounter another foe. - -Zeb Ruel and his two companions, Fenton and Morley, being out of sight -of their comrades below, knew nothing of their movements until the sound -of firearms, together with vengeful shouts and shrill cries, announced -the commencement of the struggle. Divining the truth, they began -descending the ridge side, in order to assist their comrades. - -Though too late to take part in the struggle proper, the fleeing -red-skins ran headlong against their weapons. Three rifle-cracks, and -only two Kiowas remained, standing bewildered by this new and unexpected -danger. Then, amidst a storm of revolver bullets, they tried to scale -the steep hill, but ere half-way to its top, the last Kiowa flung aloft -his arms, and rolled back to the base, dead. - -Mestayer had fought bravely, but his time had come. Both Colton and -Hawksley assailed him. Colton fell, with a bullet through his breast, -but before the outlaw could do more, Hawksley was upon him. - -In the desperate struggle that ensued, his wounds aided in giving the -settler the victory, and ere the last reports echoed from up the valley, -Mestayer was securely bound, a prisoner. - -“Who is’t ye’ve got, Hawksley?” cried Zeb Ruel, coming up at this -moment. “Hellow, Jap Morton, as I’m a sinner!” - -“The man that carried off Fannie, I believe,” but the settler hesitated -as he now for the first time took a good square look at his captive. - -“I never stole her—I know nothing about the matter,” sullenly replied -Mestayer, his eyes drooping. - -“You lie, villain!” snarled Hawksley, springing upon the prostrate -figure. “Tell me—tell me quick, or I’ll choke the vile life out of your -carcass!” - -“Easy—easy, neighbor,” quoth Ruel, as he dragged the infuriated settler -from his victim. “A feller cain’t easy speak when his thrapple is shet -tight in a vise. Leave the or’nery cuss to me. I’ll bring him round, I -reckon. D’ y’ hear, Jap Morton?—best tell me what ye know.” - -“I’ll tell you all I know. It’s not much, but it’ll show you that I had -no hand in the matter. An old man named Albert Mestayer, in disguise, -deceived you and stole your daughter.” - -“You’re lying now!” - -“I’m not—it’s the truth. You may not believe it, for the report was -spread long ago that he was dead. Have you forgotten the man who killed -your brother, Christopher Hawksley?” - -The settler staggered back as though dealt a deadly blow. He had not -recognized the name at first, so many years had passed by since those -dark days. Seeing his agitation, Ruel took up the examination. - -“What’d he steal her fer?” - -“Revenge. Hawksley knows for what.” - -“I do—go on,” faintly muttered the settler. - -“He was met, on his return, by three men—part of those who—who burned -Colton’s house. They, in the dim light, thought it was me, and they -believed that I had betrayed them in that matter. There was a fight, in -which the old man shot two, when the other made off. His horse had been -hurt, and so was the girl. She was shot in the side. If you followed his -trail, you must have lost it in the river. He rode there, and seeing -that his horse was nearly dead, he shot him and sent it floating -down-stream, to cover his trail. Then he waded up-stream, finally -reaching his retreat.” - -“Where is that?” - -“In the _baranca_ that cuts through the ten-mile prairie. In the east -side is concealed a good-sized cave. He lives there.” - -“And the gal?” asked Ruel, in answer to a sign from the agitated father. - -“I don’t know whether she is living or not. Mestayer told me that she -was fatally wounded.” - -“A durned lie—don’t yer b’lieve him, neighbor,” splurted Ruel, as -Hawksley sunk to the ground with a bitter groan. “Now, what of Fred -Hawksley? An’ who is that gal that he rid a’ter?” - -“Mestayer’s daughter. He is hidden there, but he is crazy. The old man -hit him on the head with a club, and injured his brain.” - -“Ask him about Ned,” suggested Fenton. - -“If you mean Ned Campbell, he’s there, too,” quickly replied Mestayer. - -“Ge-long to thunderation! A hull nestfull—any more?” spluttered Ruel, -amazed. - -“No,” then adding, quickly. “Now I have told you all, you will set me -free?” - -“Not much—sca’cely. How d’ we know but it’s all a pesky lie, jist -hatched up as you went along? No, sir; your part o’ the barg’in don’t -end ontel a’ter you show us this wonderful hole in the ground, an’ we -see how matters railly stan’.” - -“Come,” said Hawksley, in a strained, unnaturally still voice, “we are -losing time here; let us be riding.” - -“Co-rect. Git yer horses, boys. I’ll ketch one fer this chap. He’s got -to show us the hole, or I’ll know the why.” - -Mestayer was mounted upon one of the spare horses, and tied firmly to -the saddle. Ruel rode beside him, while Hawksley led the way at a rapid -rate. - -The ten miles were soon covered, and the party found themselves at the -_baranca_. Dismounting, they silently approached the spot indicated by -Mestayer. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - A DOUBLE SURPRISE. - - -For a time Ned Campbell remained silent, deep-buried in thought. The -temptation was strong, and he was slowly yielding to it. - -Lola watched him closely, and as her keen eye, sharpened by love the -most intense and passionate, read the quick changes of his handsome -countenance, her heart beat high with hope that he was about to consent. -The inward conflict sickened her, and she staggered like one drunken, as -she rose, muttering, in a husky, unnatural voice: - -“Think well over it, but decide quickly. There is no time to lose, if -you would be saved. I must seek the fresh air—I am choking!” - -Campbell watched her until her form disappeared, then his eyes drooped, -and he tried to think connectedly over what he had heard both from -father and from daughter. - -It did not take him long to decide. Though he felt that he could never -bring himself to love, or even respect as a friend, the child of the man -who had boasted that his hands were stained with blood—and together with -other, the blood of the young man’s father, he resolved to accept her -terms in seeming, until he was free. - -The thought of his mother’s peril brought him to this decision. He could -not let her be murdered, when a simple falsehood would save her. - -He had scarcely arrived at this determination when Lola hastily entered, -her countenance flushed, her eyes glowing. - -“Quick! your answer—my father is coming!” she hurriedly uttered, -reaching his side. - -“I consent—provided you assist me in freeing Fred, also.” - -“I will—you shall never regret your choice, if my love can repay you. -But now—there’s his step. Pretend to sleep, as he may suspect -something,” she hastily added, as with burning lips she gently touched -his forehead. - -Though strongly agitated, Campbell managed to quiet his nerves in -seeming, and as Mestayer entered, his suspicious glance saw only a -sleeping captive and a drowsy sentinel, her head bowed upon her breast. -It was evident that he had met or seen something that greatly excited -him, and pleasingly, too, for a triumphant glow irradiated his face, and -his dark eyes sparkled with strange brilliancy. - -“Lola, you may go now and lie down. You must be sleepy.” - -Lola arose and retired, though with reluctance. She seemed ill at ease, -and to suspect danger to the one she had so suddenly given her heart, in -the ill-suppressed excitement of the old man. One hand sought the pistol -at her waist, and she crouched down in the passage, listening intently, -ready to interfere should her fears prove well founded. - -Mestayer touched Campbell lightly upon the shoulder, then laughed aloud -at the air of well dissimulated surprise worn by his face as the young -man opened his eyes with a start. - -“A change in your watcher, you see, and I suppose you think a -disagreeable one. You sleep sound, young man. That is a blessing, if you -only think so. But that reminds me—I have something to tell you -concerning your friends.” - -“Who—what?” stammered Ned, really surprised. - -“Of Hawksley, Ruel and the others who were with you when you were -hunting for the girl. They have apparently become alarmed at your long -absence, and have been trailing you.” - -“If so, I don’t see why _you_ should laugh.” - -“Because you don’t know all. You remember where you left your horse? -Well, I sent a friend—one whom you may have known as Jasper Morton—I -sent him _on your horse_ to hasten up my friends. _Now_ do you see? -They—_your_ friends, have traced your trail out several miles beyond -this, and are camping there, intending to follow on in the morning. -_Now_ do you see why I laugh?” - -“No.” - -“Bah! you are dull—very stupid. Well then, I am sworn brother to -Chigilli, the Kiowa chief. He is waiting for me to send him word when -all is in readiness for him to strike a blow at the settlement. My -nephew is to bring them on—seventy-five strong. He has my instructions -to follow back his trail—and to kill or capture all who may be upon it. -This is why I laughed. I have just been scouting round them, so close -that I could have picked off any one of their number, had that been my -wish. But I have a different fate in store for Hawksley—the rest I care -not for. Now then, you have something more to ponder over. You should -thank me for keeping your mind from rusting—but I have long since ceased -to look for gratitude from those of my race. Ha! ha!” - -Campbell did not reply, and the old man sunk into a reverie that lasted -for hours. At length he was aroused by Lola, who told him that day was -dawning. The old man arose and emerged from the chamber, while after a -quiet greeting to Ned, Lola busied herself with preparations for the -morning meal. - -For an hour after sunrise, Mestayer watched at the edge of the -_baranca_, yet so close to the den that Lola could not put her resolve -of freeing Campbell into execution, without the certainty of a deadly -collision between him and her father, an extremity that she could not as -yet bring herself to brave. But she regretted not having done so, when -Mestayer reappeared and bade her bring forth her pony. - -As she reluctantly obeyed, Campbell saw that the horses were kept -concealed in an apartment of the cave. Mestayer spoke decisively, and -Lola dared not disobey. - -“You will ride out along the trail that I told you of, and see if you -can see any thing of our friends. Do not go beyond the creek, but wait -there, if needs be, for half an hour. If you do not see them then, -hasten back.” - -Lola emerged from the _baranca_ and dashed away over the prairie with -lightning speed. Mestayer resumed his position as look-out, his eyes -eagerly following the swiftly flying figure of his daughter. - -Campbell had read aright the quick glance thrown at him by Lola. She -feared that she could not effect his release until too late. His heart -sunk within him, and he closed his eyes in deep and troubled reflection. - -However, he was to be aroused ere long. A low, faint rustle came from -beyond, and then a figure appeared at the angle behind which Campbell -had frequently observed Mestayer disappear. - -A face that bore an excited yet troubled look; pale and worn, yet very -beautiful. The large, wild-looking eyes rested upon the form of the -young hunter as he lay upon the couch, and the lips parted, the arms -outstretched, as, with a low cry, the figure glided forward. - -In amazement Campbell raised his eyes. Then a low, glad cry broke from -his lips as he recognized in the figure that of his dearly beloved one, -Fannie Hawksley. He tried to outstretch his arms, but the attempt -recalled his situation. - -“Ned—thank God! I am in time!” gasped the maiden, dropping upon her -knees beside the pallet. “Think what I must have suffered. I have heard -every thing that was said here. I heard the lies they told you, and had -no power to deny then, for I was bound hand and foot and gagged.” - -As she spoke, Fannie with trembling fingers strove to release her lover, -but the hard-knotted cords resisted her efforts. - -“Fannie, my poor darling, you can do no good without a knife. There must -be some lying in the outer room—those we used for breakfast. You will -not be afraid to look?” - -“Not when it is for you,” she bravely returned, and gliding through the -passage, she quickly secured what she sought, together with a brace of -pistols that she had snatched from the table. - -“My precious darling!” murmured Campbell, as the cords yielded to the -keen weapon, and springing to his feet he clasped Fannie to his wildly -throbbing heart; but fortunately she was the more composed of the two. - -“Take the pistols, Ned. You may need them. Now—we have no time to lose. -Come—you must help me set Fred free. He is kept a prisoner in here, too. -Hasten—” - -“Too late! Back, Fannie—get behind me,” hastily muttered Campbell, as -the echo of a quick step came to their ears from the outer chamber. - -A simultaneous cry followed the appearance of the figure, and Campbell’s -pistol muzzle slightly fell as he saw it covered the heart of the -strange girl, Lola Mestayer. - -“You free?” she cried, in amazement; “but come—there’s no time to lose. -You must meet my father, but it is the only chance. The Indians are -coming up like the wind. You can hide in—my God! who is that?” she -abruptly added, for the first time observing the shrinking figure of -Fannie. - -“My promised wife—the one you so falsely swore was dead,” sternly -replied Campbell. - -“It was for love of you that I lied—but I will make my words good!” -hissed the maddened girl, as her bright pistol was leveled toward -Fannie. - -The report followed swiftly, but the low exclamation that broke the air -came not from the maiden’s lips. Campbell had sprung before his love, -himself receiving the bullet. His left arm swung helpless at his side. - -“Forgive me—oh, forgive me!” cried Lola, as she observed the effect of -her mad act. “I would rather that bullet had pierced my heart than to -harm _you_!” - -A hoarse cry came echoing from without. The three inmates of the chamber -experienced a thrill as they divined its purport. Mestayer had heard the -confusion, and was coming to investigate it. - -Two clicks sounded through the chamber. Campbell cocked his pistols. So -did Lola. The eyes of all were turned toward the entrance. They had not -long to wait, for the next moment Mestayer burst into the chamber, his -eyes ablaze, his hand clutching a revolver. - -“What is this—who set you free?” he cried, hoarsely, as he noticed -Campbell standing erect, pale but defiant. “Ha! _you_ did—traitress!” -and his pistol covered Lola’s heart. - -“No—I did it,” tremblingly cried Fannie, as she saw the peril of one -innocent. - -“You too!” for the first time noticing the maiden. “Fortunately I am -prepared for it. Now, sir,” he added, in a cold, deadly tone. “Drop your -pistol, or I shoot you down like a dog.” - -“Two can play at that game. Stand aside and let us pass,” uttered -Campbell, as with a rapid motion he raised his pistol to a level. - -“Bah! If I should, what better would you be by it? My friends are by -this time at the _baranca_. They would stop you if I did not.” - -“Father, let them go free. Those coming without are _their_ friends, not -yours. They are white men—the settlers who were on his trail,” and Lola -glided forward. - -“Traitress! but I’ll not be balked entirely—I’ll strike one blow before -I die!” - -His pistol spoke, and the bullet claimed a victim. But not the one at -whose life he had aimed. Lola sprung forward, shielding with her body -the life of the man whom she so madly loved. - -With a groan of agony she sunk down upon the blood-sprinkled floor, her -young life going out as she gasped a name—the name of him she had saved -from death. - -With a howl of fury, Campbell fired twice in quick succession, but the -last shot was superfluous. The murderer of his father was dead—shot -through the brain. - -Staggering back against the wall, faint and weak, Campbell cocked his -pistol. From without there came loud, excited cries, and he had not -understood the speech of Lola. He believed them also enemies. But then -as he recognized the foremost, Archibald Hawksley and Zeb Ruel, he -muttered a thanksgiving and fainted. - -But little more need be added, for the meeting and little explanations -may be left to the reader’s imagination. Fred Hawksley was found, bound -and gagged, but unhurt save from the blow given him by Mestayer when the -strange decoy had lured him to the den. In a week he was as well as -ever. - -Campbell had only fainted from loss of blood, and was soon restored. The -wound Fannie had received in the fight on the prairie was slight, and -already nearly healed. - -As the party left the cave, it was found that James Mestayer had -disappeared, but two days afterward he was found. Fearing death he had -urged his horse to break its fastenings, though he himself was still -firmly bound. In the mad gallop that ensued, his saddle turned, and he, -falling beneath the mustang’s belly, had met his death. - -The Kiowas, awed by the death of their chief, quietly retreated to their -hunting-grounds, and the threatened Indian war blew over. - -Of course Ned and Fannie were married, now that Fred was found, and -equally of course, Zeb Ruel and the rest of the young hunters were gay -and welcome guests. - -Albert Mestayer and his ill-fated daughter, Lola, were interred in one -grave upon the banks of the _baranca_. But their strange story did not -die for many a year, and is still occasionally alluded to, in that -section. - - - THE END. - - - - - THE ILLUMINATED DIME - POCKET NOVELS! - - - PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY. - -Comprising the best works only of the most popular living writers in the -field of American Romance. 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text-indent:-2em; } -.fnblock dt { text-align:justify; } -dl.catalog dd { font-style:italic; } -dl.catalog dt { margin-top:1em; } -.author { text-align:right; margin-top:0em; margin-bottom:0em; display:block; } - -dl.biblio dt { margin-top:.6em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:justify; clear:both; } -dl.biblio dt div { display:block; float:left; margin-left:-6em; width:6em; clear:both; } -dl.biblio dt.center { margin-left:0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0; } -dl.biblio dd { margin-top:.3em; margin-left:3em; text-align:justify; font-size:90%; } -p.biblio { margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; } -.clear { clear:both; } -p.book { margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; } -p.review { margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; font-size:80%; } -p.pcap { margin-left:0em; text-indent:0; text-align:center; margin-top:0; font-size:110%; } -p.pcapc { margin-left:4.7em; text-indent:0em; text-align:justify; } -span.inside { font-size:80%; font-weight:bold; display:block; - float:left; margin-top:.5em; margin-bottom:.5em; - margin-right:1em; max-width:8em; } -span.attr { font-size:80%; font-family:sans-serif; } -span.pn { display:inline-block; width:4.7em; text-align:left; margin-left:0; text-indent:0; } -</style> -</head> -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Texas Hawks; or The Strange Decoy, by Joseph E. Badger</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Texas Hawks; or The Strange Decoy</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0;'>Beadle's Pocket Novels No. 59</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Joseph E. Badger</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 8, 2021 [eBook #66248]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Edwards, Stephen Hutcheson, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Northern Illinois University Digital Library)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TEXAS HAWKS; OR THE STRANGE DECOY ***</div> -<div id="cover" class="img"> -<img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="The Texas Hawks; Or, The Strange Decoy" width="638" height="1000" /> -</div> -<div class="box"> -<p class="center smaller"><span class="sc">Vol. V.</span>] <span class="hst">[<span class="sc">No. 59.</span></span> -<br />SEPTEMBER 30, 1876.</p> -<hr class="dwide" /> -<h1>THE TEXAS HAWKS; -<br /><span class="smallest"><span class="smallest">OR,</span> -<br />THE STRANGE DECOY.</span></h1> -<p class="tbcenter">BY JOS. E. BADGER, Jr.</p> -<p class="tbcenter"><span class="smaller">NEW YORK:</span> -<br />BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, -<br /><span class="smaller">98 WILLIAM STREET.</span></p> -</div> -<p class="center smaller">Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by -<br />FRANK STARR & CO., -<br />In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.</p> -<h2 id="toc" class="center">CONTENTS</h2> -<dl class="toc"> -<dt><a href="#c1"><span class="cn">I </span>The Strange Rider</a> 9</dt> -<dt><a href="#c2"><span class="cn">II </span>The Lottery of Death</a> 19</dt> -<dt><a href="#c3"><span class="cn">III </span>The Midnight Conflict</a> 31</dt> -<dt><a href="#c4"><span class="cn">IV </span>The Baranca Mystery</a> 40</dt> -<dt><a href="#c5"><span class="cn">V </span>The Maiden’s Peril</a> 50</dt> -<dt><a href="#c6"><span class="cn">VI </span>The Lost Trail</a> 60</dt> -<dt><a href="#c7"><span class="cn">VII </span>On Guard</a> 70</dt> -<dt><a href="#c8"><span class="cn">VIII </span>At Bay</a> 78</dt> -<dt><a href="#c9"><span class="cn">IX </span>A Strange Proposal</a> 85</dt> -<dt><a href="#c10"><span class="cn">X </span>The Clew</a> 93</dt> -<dt><a href="#c11"><span class="cn">XI </span>A Double Surprise</a> 96</dt> -</dl> -<div class="pb" id="Page_9">9</div> -<h1 title=""><span class="smaller">THE TEXAS HAWKS; -<br /><span class="smallest"><span class="smallest">OR,</span> -<br />THE STRANGE DECOY.</span></span></h1> -<h2 id="c1"><span class="small">CHAPTER I.</span> -<br />THE STRANGE RIDER.</h2> -<p>“Bah! for my part, I believe it sheer nonsense—nothing -but a hoax.”</p> -<p>“So said I until lately; but now I <i>know</i> there is something -in it.”</p> -<p>The sentences just noted were spoken in very dissimilar -tones: the first one careless and slightly scoffing—the second -low and earnest. Both speakers were young and of prepossessing -appearance.</p> -<p>The scene was an attractive one, though somewhat similar -ones have been described time and time again. In fact it -was the bivouac of a hunting party.</p> -<p>One glance would decide this. The soiled and blood-stained -garments of the half-score figures gathered around the -cheerful, crackling fire, in attitudes of careless ease, for the -most part with pipe in mouth, the half-picked bones and fragments -of meat scattered profusely here and there, telling of a -hearty meal just passed by. The horses, rudely hoppled, grazing -eagerly hard-by, their sides still wet with sweat; the -plentiful supply of rudely-butchered meat that hung suspended -from the trees around, mostly of buffalo and deer, all told -plainly that this was the bivouac of hunters, resting after a -successful day’s chase.</p> -<p>In conscious security they had kindled their camp-fire, and -now, without a thought of danger, were enjoying that indispensable -luxury of a true plainsman—pipes and tobacco.</p> -<p>Though our hunters had not given the matter a thought, -<span class="pb" id="Page_10">10</span> -the camp had been pitched in a truly lovely and picturesque -spot. At this point two goodly-sized timber-islands extended -an arm toward each other, almost meeting. In fact, though -the tree-trunks were separated by several yards, their long -branches fairly touched, interweaved together, forming a gayly-tinted -arch, the frost-touched leaves vying in brilliancy with -the colors of the rainbow.</p> -<p>Through and beyond this natural bower, the prairie stretched -far away in gently-undulating swells, studded at irregular -intervals with timber <i>mottes</i>, something similar to those beside -which we find our friends. Close to these twin <i>mottes</i> was a -clear stream of water, a confluent of the Trinity River.</p> -<p>As already incidentally mentioned, the party consisted of -half a score of hunters, all young—the eldest scarcely numbering -thirty years, while one or two were a third less than -that. They were such men as can only be found apart from -the great cities, nurtured in the broad West, their limbs and -lungs fully developed by the clear, pure atmosphere of the -prairies. They would have been out of place in a ladies’ -drawing-room, because they were at home here. Their hair -was worn long; scarcely one of their faces had ever known -the touch of a razor, giving their beards a glossy silkiness seldom -seen, that even the scorching sun or crinkling winds of -winter could not destroy.</p> -<p>“What do you mean by that, Fred?” quickly added the first -speaker, Edward Campbell—a tall, stalwart youth, who, despite -his few years, had already gained a widely-known reputation -from more than one desperate combat with the savages -and wild beasts.</p> -<p>“Just what I say, Ned,” and Fred Hawksley spoke in a -serious tone. “I <i>know</i> there is such a being, because I have -seen her—yes, and spoken to her, too.”</p> -<p>A general movement followed this announcement, and it -was plain that the subject under discussion possessed no little -interest to the hunters. Still, despite Hawksley’s earnestness, -they seemed to doubt.</p> -<p>“You have never mentioned this before, Fred. Are you -sure there is no mistake?”</p> -<p>“Am I a fool, Ned Campbell?” retorted the young man, -coolly. “I tell you that I saw her, only three days ago, not -<span class="pb" id="Page_11">11</span> -two miles from this very spot. And I spoke to her, too, as I -told you before.”</p> -<p>“That’s why you were so urgent for us to encamp here, -was it?” laughed Ned. “But never mind—tell us all about -it now?”</p> -<p>“Yes—who is she? What did she look like? Did she -answer you?” eagerly cried several of the little band.</p> -<p>“Well, I’ll tell you all I know about it, provided you promise -not to make fun of me.”</p> -<p>“You’re not at another of your sells, are you, Fred? Honest -Injun, now.”</p> -<p>“No, Ned, I mean just what I say.”</p> -<p>“That’s enough. Go on. When you talk like that, we -know you’re not fooling.”</p> -<p>“Well, as I said, I saw her three days ago, out just beyond -the big red rock; you know where that is. I didn’t mention -it to any of you, because we had all been deriding Hark Bogan -so unmercifully about her, that I was ashamed to tell -what I had seen. You may remember that I was unusually -quiet, that night, after getting back to camp. I told you I -felt tired, but I was <i>thinking</i>.</p> -<p>“You know that the red rock is just on the top of a high -swell—the highest ground for miles around. I was climbing -this—as my nag was tired and heavily loaded with meat—on -foot. Mott suddenly raised his head and whickered. Even -had there not come a quick reply, that would have told me -there was another horse near by, but a neigh <i>did</i> come from -directly ahead of me.</p> -<p>“I was then almost on the top of the swell, and so could -just see the top of the big rock. And there, beside it, <i>she</i> -was. You know how high the rock is. Well, as she sat her -horse, her head was on a level with the highest part of the -rock, so you can judge she was no baby.</p> -<p>“I remembered Bogan’s description the moment I saw this, -and knew that I must be looking upon his ‘wild woman.’ At -first I could only see her head and shoulders. On her head -she wore a small cap of some kind of fur, with two or three -brightly dyed eagle-feathers, such as the Kiowas wear. Her -dress—what I could see of it—seemed to be made of tanned -fawn-skin, trimmed in Indian style.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_12">12</div> -<p>“I took in this much at a glance, and as it was nearly dark, -I naturally thought she was some Indian. I knew that only -a woman could wear such hair as that which hung down her -back. I even laughed as I thought how crestfallen old Hark -would be, when I proved to him that his lovely white phantom -was nothing more than some wandering Indian squaw.</p> -<p>“Thinking this I kept on until close to the rock, and not -half a dozen lengths from the stranger. Then she lifted a -hand and motioned for me to pause. That she meant this, -I saw from her turning the muzzle of a light, handsome -rifle toward my breast, it resting between the ears of her -horse. She seemed like one who had smelled powder before, -and I obeyed her.</p> -<p>“Now I could see that she was white—though her complexion -was that of a rich brunette. A more beautiful face -I never saw. I can’t describe it—only that her great big -eyes were black and shining as those of a deer; that her -figure was the most superbly developed, the most symmetrical -that I ever beheld in my life. Boys, that face and figure -has haunted me ever since. If that woman is as good -and pure as she is beautiful, she would be well worth dying -for!” suddenly added Hawksley, puffing vigorously at his extinguished -pipe.</p> -<p>“And still better living for—eh, Fred?” and Ned Campbell -laughed. “But go on—you spoke to her—this marvelous -beauty?”</p> -<p>“Yes—but not until she spoke first to me. I was still -staring at her, amazed, for I knew that she did not live -anywhere around here—at least with any one I know, and -there’s few families in the State that I do not know. She -said:</p> -<p>“‘What is your name?’</p> -<p>“Just that and nothing more. Of course I told her. -But that voice! It corresponded perfectly with her face -and figure, rich, mellow, voluptuous—just such a voice as I -believe Homer endowed the goddess Calypso with, when she -was seeking to captivate Ulysses.”</p> -<p>“Ha! ha! the invincible conquered—Fred Hawksley in -love with the fair unknown!”</p> -<p>“Laugh if you will, Ned Campbell,” was the sober reply. -<span class="pb" id="Page_13">13</span> -“I half-believe it myself. But as I said, I answered her. -She did not speak again, but gave me a look—a glance that -set my brain afire—my heart to throbbing like a trip-hammer. -Then she touched the rein and shot off to the right, -swift as an arrow. At a little distance she paused and raised -one hand toward me. I was dumbfounded then, but since -I believe that she meant it as a <i>challenge</i> to me. I did mount -Mott, but jaded as he was, I knew that he stood no chance -in a race with that mustang.</p> -<p>“Ned, as I rode slowly toward camp, the strange woman—whoever -she may be—fairly rode round me, then with a -clear, taunting laugh, gave loose rein and dashed away over -the prairie like a bird. In five minutes, she was out of sight. -Now you know all that I know about the matter.”</p> -<p>“And you chose this camp in hopes of seeing her again?”</p> -<p>“Well, no, not that exactly; and yet I did think of her. -If we <i>do</i> meet again, I’ll find out who she is, if it lies in old -Mott’s limbs to carry me up to her. There’s some mystery -’bout the woman, that I’ve determined to unravel.”</p> -<p>“Give old ‘buck-skin’ a fair show, with plenty of ground -before him, and he’ll ride over the best mustang that ever -scored turf in Texas.”</p> -<p>“I believe he can,” and Hawksley glanced proudly toward -the large, but nobly-shaped yellow horse that munched the -grass at the timber’s edge.</p> -<p>“Hark!”</p> -<p>There was little need of the exclamation, for all, both human -and quadruped, heard the sound that called it forth; -the quick, rapid thud of a horse’s hoofs upon the solid prairie. -All eyes were instantly turned toward the arch before -alluded to. The rider—and a trained ear has but little difficulty -in deciding whether a galloping horse is riderless—whoever -it might be, was beyond the neck of timber, yet evidently -approaching the bivouac.</p> -<p>The hunters felt only curiosity, for they knew that only -one horseman approached. Then a simultaneous cry broke -from their lips. For a moment they appeared awe-stricken.</p> -<p>Sitting a noble looking mustang beneath the leafy canopy, -with form perfectly outlined against the still glowing sky in -the west, was none other than the strange being who had -<span class="pb" id="Page_14">14</span> -formed the subject of conversation for the past half-hour. -Her features were indistinctly visible, but there could be no -mistake.</p> -<p>She sat her horse in true savage style: astride, and, with -a dress fashioned for that purpose, as was hers, the effect was -far from displeasing. Her dress flashed back the firelight in -a thousand scintillations, from the beads and silver ornaments -that thickly studded its folds. The long black hair, -slightly curling at the extremities, floated in wild profusion -around her form. A light rifle was carelessly balanced -across the deep-seated Mexican saddle. Other weapons -gleamed from the belt that encircled her round, compact -waist.</p> -<p>“Who and what are you, anyhow?” cried Campbell, breaking -the spell with an effort.</p> -<p>The only reply was a low, clear laugh, melodious as the -notes of a silver bell. Hawksley had not exaggerated in the -least. The most skeptical now acknowledged this, mentally, -if not aloud.</p> -<p>“Keep her in sight, Ned,” muttered Fred, as he arose. -“If Mott can do it, I’ll answer that question before I’m -an hour older!”</p> -<p>At his movement, the strange rider wheeled her mustang -and seemed ready for flight, her face turned, glancing back -over her shoulder.</p> -<p>“I can drop the piebald without hurting her,” muttered -Campbell, half inquiringly.</p> -<p>“No—that would never do. We have no right. Keep -her in sight—I think I can overhaul her,” and Hawksley uttered -a low whistle, at the same time gliding toward where -his saddle and bridle hung.</p> -<p>With another clear laugh, the strange rider turned and, -bending low along the spotted mustang’s neck, dashed around -the timber. Campbell rushed to the arch, then paused, muttering -eagerly:</p> -<p>“Quick, Fred—she’s waiting for you!”</p> -<p>Such indeed seemed the case. The woman had only retreated -a few hundred yards from the bivouac, and then, as -if feeling implicit confidence in the powers of the animal she -bestrode, had halted, once more glancing back toward the -<span class="pb" id="Page_15">15</span> -camp-fire. Her actions were strange as her appearance. She -seemed inviting—challenging pursuit.</p> -<p>In less than a minute from her first appearance, Fred -Hawksley sprung upon his noble beast, and dashed through -the arch out upon the prairie. The strange rider uttered another -laugh, clear and silvery, yet with a taunting cadence -that caused the young hunter’s blood to tingle and his lips to -compress firmly. He resolved to overtake the woman, even -if it cost him the noble steed he bestrode.</p> -<p>“We’ll follow on after you, Fred,” cried Campbell as his -friend dashed past him. “Don’t be rash—there may be some -deviltry in this!”</p> -<p>The strange rider tossed back her floating hair with one -hand, as the young borderer sprung into view, then with a -peculiar cry, gave her mustang free rein, and sped away over -the undulating prairie with the speed of a swallow. And -after her thundered the big yellow horse, with the long, swinging -stride that Fred knew few mustangs could successfully -cope with in any thing over a mile dash.</p> -<p>“Quick, boys—saddle up!” cried Campbell, excitedly. -“Never mind the meat. I’m afraid that Fred is running -into some real trouble—that creature has bewitched him. See! -he forgot his rifle—but he has his pistols. Make haste! we -mustn’t lose sight of them if we can help it, though the -moon is full and will soon be up. We can follow their trail, -if needs be.”</p> -<p>There was little hesitation. Though the day’s work had -been hard, both men and beasts were ready for a race, and -this was no common one. Already the young hunters possessed -a burning curiosity to know who and what this strange -woman rider really was, and what was the motive of her -strange actions.</p> -<p>Hopples were slipped, saddles and bridles quickly adjusted, -and then, weapons in hand, the little party dashed swiftly beneath -the natural rock, out upon the broad prairie. But -where were the two riders—their friend and the strange woman?</p> -<p>For a moment a superstitious thrill agitated the young -hunters, but then Campbell laughed. He saw their foolishness.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_16">16</div> -<p>“They’re beyond the swell—we’ll see them in a moment. -Come on—keep up with me if you can!”</p> -<p>That he spoke the truth, the next moment confirmed. Gliding -like shadowy phantoms, rapidly yet noiselessly, two riders -appeared near the crest of the second swell, already a mile -away. Only that the moon was just rising the eastern swells, -the chase would have been invisible to the hunters.</p> -<p>But few more words were spoken on the part of the little -band. One and all, they saw that a long and severe race was -before them, and that all their attention must be given to -their horses, already jaded by their hard day’s hunt, if they -hoped to keep within view of the young ranger. Up hill and -down, over gullies and through the patches of tall grass and -weeds, sped the hunters, now no longer in a compact clump, -but strung out with intervals of a yard, a horse’s length, maybe, -between each other. A dozen lengths in front thundered -Ned Campbell on his big bay horse.</p> -<p>“Do the best ye can, boys,” he shouted back, with beard -on shoulder. “If you can’t keep up, follow the trail.”</p> -<p>Each of his friends felt the same vague fear that agitated -Campbell’s heart. They believed that Hawksley was being led -into some great peril by this strange rider—that she was acting -the part of a <i>decoy</i>.</p> -<p>But why? That was beyond them. They did not pause -to reason—they jumped at once to the conclusion, preposterous -as it seemed.</p> -<p>The moon shone clear and full upon the prairie, lighting -up this unique, double chase. First—far ahead, almost invisible -in the dim, deceitful light, sped the strange woman rider, -the spotted mustang running freely and seemingly at ease. -Close behind—in fact not more than a hundred yards, thundered -the dark figure of the young ranger, urging on his -noble “buck-skin” with both voice and spur. A mile further -to the rear was Ned Campbell, his big bay holding its own, -if not slowly gaining upon the two foremost racers. Gradually -losing ground, on struggled the others, bringing up the -rear.</p> -<p>Bitterly Hawksley regretted having so severely taxed his -animal during the day. Were he fresh now, there was little -doubt as to how the chase would terminate. The spotted -<span class="pb" id="Page_17">17</span> -mustang would speedily be forced to acknowledge its master. -But now? With varying hope and fear, Fred urged his -horse on. He scarcely knew what to think. At times the -spotted creature seemed laboring heavily, at others to be running -well within himself. Could it be that this strange woman -was <i>playing</i> with him? Fred bit his lip and pressed his -spurs home. With an angry snort, the big horse plunged -forward with lightning speed.</p> -<p>Ned Campbell was urging his horse to the utmost, and in -his anxiety concerning his friend, he neglected his usual caution, -unfortunately for all concerned. Fearing to lose sight -of the chase, his gaze was bent ahead, as he gained the crest -of a swell.</p> -<p>A loud cheer burst from his lips as he caught sight of his -friend, seemingly riding close beside the strange woman. As -he turned his head to cheer on his friends, Ned felt his horse -suddenly stumble, and then came insensibility.</p> -<p>The big bay horse had stepped into the burrow of a gopher, -and stumbling, fell with violence, casting its rider far over its -head. Campbell lay like one dead, and forgetting all else in -their anxiety regarding his welfare, the young hunters dismounted -and crowded round him.</p> -<p>Thus a full half-hour was lost; momentous minutes to their -friend Fred Hawksley. Only for that unfortunate stumble, -how much that followed might have been spared!</p> -<p>Though considerably bruised, when he returned to consciousness, -Campbell found that no bones were broken. Almost -his first thought was for his horse. It stood near by, -leisurely cropping the grass, in nowise injured by the <i>contretemps</i>.</p> -<p>Ned uttered a little exclamation, as he glanced around him. -He counted eight forms besides his own. Then he glanced -over the prairie in which direction he had last noted his -young friend. It was clear and unobstructed. Hawksley -and the strange rider had disappeared.</p> -<p>“You ought to have followed on, boys. I fear that Fred is -running into some snare. Do you take the trail now. I remember -the point where I last saw them. I’ll ride on ahead. -Don’t lose any time, but keep the right track. Fred’s life -may depend upon it.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_18">18</div> -<p>Before the last words were spoken, he was in the saddle -and away. One quick glance around settled his course, and -then fixing his eyes steadily upon a point of timber a mile or -more ahead, he dashed on like an arrow fresh from the -bow.</p> -<p>His companions followed more deliberately, though at a -steady gallop. The moonlight was sufficiently strong to enable -them to follow the plainly imprinted trail with little difficulty. -In a few minutes they lost sight of Ned Campbell, -behind a timber island.</p> -<p>Round a point of this the trail led, and dashing along, the -eyes of the pursuers widely dilated as they abruptly drew -rein. The prairie here stretched out free of timber, almost -level for several miles in either direction. And yet not a -living object was to be seen upon its surface!</p> -<p>Was this magic? More than one of the hunters felt a -thrill of superstitious awe, as they glanced at each other. -Where were Hawksley and the strange woman? Where was -Ned Campbell?</p> -<p>“Look!” muttered a tall, lank youth, Zebedee Ruel by -name, “hyar’s thar trail—three critters goin’ at full split. -They’ve passed this a-way. Reckon we’d best follow on—what -say?”</p> -<p>The trail was faint and indistinct at this point, for the -ground was harder, ringing sharply beneath the iron-shod -hoofs. It was the edge of a tract of prairie sometimes found -in Texas—more frequently in Kansas and Nebraska; composed -of sand, gravel and flinty pebbles, over which a horse -may pass without leaving a trail.</p> -<p>Such was soon found to be the case here. Though all dismounted, -even searching the ground upon hands and knees, -the trail was soon lost.</p> -<p>“Ha! boys, we’re fools!” muttered Craig Fenton, in a tone -of disquiet. “Don’t you know this place? Why we’re not -five miles from Colton’s Ranche!”</p> -<p>“By thunder! you’re right, Craig,” muttered Ruel. “Then -they must be in the—”</p> -<p>“Look yonder!”</p> -<p>Following the direction indicated by the outstretched finger, -the hunters beheld the tall figure of a horseman, standing -<span class="pb" id="Page_19">19</span> -motionless upon the prairie, not two hundred yards from -their position. And yet, only a moment before, the prairie -had been closely scanned, without a living object being seen.</p> -<h2 id="c2"><span class="small">CHAPTER II.</span> -<br />THE LOTTERY OF DEATH.</h2> -<p>Other events were occurring upon that same night, that -now claim our attention.</p> -<p>A small timber island that stood close beside the stream -before spoken of as running near the hunters’ bivouac, was -the scene of a strange and peculiar trial; one that might -with propriety be termed <i>a lottery of death</i>.</p> -<p>Shortly after dark a band of horsemen began congregating -here, riding silently into the road, dismounting and tethering -their animals in a small glade that occupied the center of -the <i>motte</i>. That they were white men, was plain from the -few words spoken, though the overhanging trees concealed -their features.</p> -<p>One man who was among the first to arrive, appeared high -in authority, judging from the deference with which he was -regarded by the others. He seemed ill at ease, or very impatient, -moving restlessly to and fro, muttering more than one -curse beneath his breath, stamping his foot fiercely or nervously -fingering the weapons at his belt.</p> -<p>“How many are there here, Thompson?” he uttered, abruptly -pausing beside a tall, muscular frame.</p> -<p>“Seventeen, by my count, Cap’n Jap,” replied the man, -with the stumpy pipe still clenched betwixt his teeth. -“Thar’s two more yit—Colton an’ Marcks.”</p> -<p>“Can it be that he suspects the purpose of our meeting to-night? -The soft-headed fool may have seen his brother since -then, and as he knows the laws of our band, that would put -him on his guard. Let him beware! He’d better cut his -own throat than to prove false to us now.”</p> -<p>“True es preachin’, Cap’n Jap,” quoth Thompson. “We’d -<span class="pb" id="Page_20">20</span> -sarve him wuss’n we did Hans Koch. But he’ll be here, I -reckon. He’s most al’ays behindhan’.”</p> -<p>“Start the fire, Jim. We must have light for the drawing. -Ha! there comes some one now!”</p> -<p>“Yas—an’ it’s <i>him</i>, too. He rides the only racker in the -band.”</p> -<p>“Good!” then adding in a low, rapid tone. “You must -watch him close, Thompson. When he learns what is on the -boards, he may cut up nasty. Keep close enough to him to -grab him if I give the word. You understand?”</p> -<p>“Bet ye—I’ll do it, never fear,” muttered the man, as he -gathered a handful of dried leaves and grass.</p> -<p>“Well, Colton,” sternly uttered the man addressed as Captain -Jap—his name being Jasper Morton—turning to the last -comer, “you are late, as usual.”</p> -<p>“I could not help it, Captain Morton. I was kept—”</p> -<p>“No excuses. But if you ever hope to rise higher in the -band, you must break yourself of this habit. Only for one -thing, you would have been discharged from the league, long -ago.”</p> -<p>“And that is—”</p> -<p>“We know you would betray us before the week was out. -There—you need not deny it. I know you too well. I -merely mentioned this now because I believe you need a hint -of the kind. You are watched—I tell you that much. You -remember Hans Koch? It has not been so long since that -you should forget his fate. Take care that we do not have -to deal with you in that manner.”</p> -<p>“What have I done that you should threaten me in this -manner, Captain Morton? Have I ever proved false—haven’t -I always obeyed orders?”</p> -<p>“There—don’t get your back up, Jack Colton. What I -say is for your own good. If I am not mistaken you will be -tested to-night, more severely than you think. See to it that -you do not fail. If you do—<i>you die</i>!”</p> -<p>“I don’t understand you.”</p> -<p>“You will, before long. That will do, Thompson. We -only require a little light, and some prying eye might catch -the glimmer. Now, men,” he added, after a brief pause, “gather -round and listen well to what I say. We have work to -<span class="pb" id="Page_21">21</span> -do this night—some of you may know what I mean, but -most of you do not. Listen well, but keep silence.</p> -<p>“First, a word as to the objects of our league, then as to -our laws. It will do no harm to freshen your memory on -these points. We all know our calling—our name, for it is -<i>confiscation</i>—others call it stealing; but that don’t matter. -Among ourselves we are “Night Hawks.” To others we are -simple cattle-drovers, mustangers, or quiet settlers.</p> -<p>“We have been organized some six months. In that time -our profits have been nearly two thousand dollars per man: -a little better than simple farming. But it will be better still, -now that our markets are fairly opened, and a chain established -along which we can ship our plunder without chance -of being detected. All this, however, you know.</p> -<p>“Now about our laws. The first is—<i>death to all traitors</i>. -The next—death to those who stubbornly refuse to perform -the duty assigned to them. Our motto is, blood for blood. -If a member of our league is taken prisoner, we swear to free -him, though it cost the lives of half our number. If one is -killed, we swear to avenge him.</p> -<p>“You all remember Hans Koch. He warned a friend that -we intended cleaning out his corral on a certain night. A -trap was set for us, but we escaped it, because a trusted spy -discovered Koch’s treachery. You know that Koch met his -reward. I killed him, because the lot fell to me. Had I refused, -your laws would have condemned me, even though I -was twice your leader. You wonder why I say all this? I -will tell you now.</p> -<p>“You know that Koch’s death reduced the number of our -league to twenty. There are only eighteen here now. One—Tony -Marcks—is absent on duty assigned him by me. The -other—Israel Hackett—is dead.”</p> -<p>A low murmur of surprise followed this announcement, -and it was evident that few, if any of the band had known -of their comrade’s fate. Jasper Morton waved his hand for -silence, then resumed:</p> -<p>“Yes, Israel Hackett is dead—he was killed last night, -while performing his duty. He was one of our best men, -and now duty becomes a pleasure—we must avenge him as -our laws demand.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_22">22</div> -<p>“He shall be avenged—the name? who killed him?” came -the fierce cry from more than one pair of lips.</p> -<p>“Keep cool—all in good time, men. We will proceed by -rule. It is only one man, and upon one of us the duty falls. -We will decide by <i>the lottery</i>. It is the fairest way. Thompson—the -pouch!”</p> -<p>A small, narrow buck-skin bag was handed the leader, who -knelt beside the small fire that flickered faintly and feebly. -At a gesture from him the outlaws—for such they undoubtedly -were—gathered more closely around, bending forward -and watching his every motion.</p> -<p>“You know the rules of this—that a bullet shall be placed -in the bag for each and every person present, all but one of -them being old and stained by rubbing together—the other -one bright and new. Then we draw, one by one, until the -bright bullet is chosen. The man who draws that is the one -chosen executioner. There can be no refusal—no retreating. -It is a sacred command, and the one who refuses to obey proclaims -himself a traitor. Do you all understand me?”</p> -<p>“Yes—we are ready!”</p> -<p>“And <i>you</i>?” turning abruptly toward the man he had -called Jack Colton.</p> -<p>“I vow with the rest—I am ready,” came the quiet reply.</p> -<p>“Good! I confess that I had some doubts, for you have -acted rather queerly since Koch’s death,” sneered Morton.</p> -<p>“He was my friend—you can not blame me for feeling -touched at his horrible death.”</p> -<p>“There is nothing wrong in that—only beware that you -do not let your friendship carry you in his footsteps. His -wretched fate would be happiness compared with yours, in that -case.”</p> -<p>Morton seemed to have some secret spite against this member -of his band, but Colton commanded himself by an effort -of will, and with a scowl the outlaw leader turned once more -to the subject in hand.</p> -<p>“Thompson, mold a bullet, your molds run the truest. -Make haste.”</p> -<p>Five minutes later, all was ready. Jasper Morton took the -bullets—one bright as silver, the others all dingy and dark—and -slowly dropped them one by one into the buck-skin -<span class="pb" id="Page_23">23</span> -pouch, so that all could see. Then he shook them up thoroughly.</p> -<p>“Now, as I call, let each man step forward and draw. -You are standing in a circle. I will begin here at my right -hand, and go to the left. When you draw, open your hand -and hold the bullet in the firelight so that all may see. You -first, Wilkins.”</p> -<p>The man advanced, plunged his hand into the pouch, withdrew -it, holding the pellet of lead where the firelight shone -full upon it. It was dark and dingy.</p> -<p>So were the next half-dozen drawn. Some seemed pleased -at the result, others indifferent, but one uttered a low curse, -as though he had been deprived of a prized boon in not -drawing the bright bullet.</p> -<p>Jack Colton came next, and the features of the outlaw -chief lighted up with a gleam of malignant joy, as the young -man held up the fatal pellet. It was just what he had been -longing for. Had he known the meaning of the word, it is -probable that he would have prayed for this result.</p> -<p>“You are the elected, Colton,” he cried, in a voice that -rung with triumph. “<i>Your</i> hand must deal the avenging -blow! But first—to show that all was conducted fair. See—here -are the other bullets. All are dark—you drew the -only bright one. Are you satisfied?”</p> -<p>“Yes, I am satisfied. I will avenge Hackett, since fate -selects me. Tell me the name, and what I must do,” quietly -replied the young man.</p> -<p>“You must kill him, and before morning. Such are the -rules. No unnecessary delay.”</p> -<p>“I know—his name?” impatiently.</p> -<p>“Listen. Of course I am very sorry that it has happened -as it has. It would have been better had the choice fallen on -some other man; but since you <i>are</i> elected, you must forget -all save that you belong to this league,” and as he spoke Morton’s -eyes gleamed with diabolical joy.</p> -<p>“What do you mean by this?” faltered Colton, his bronzed -cheek paling.</p> -<p>“Only to prepare you. Israel Hackett was killed by <i>your -brother, Henry Colton</i>!”</p> -<p>“My God!” gasped Colton, the terrible truth bursting upon -<span class="pb" id="Page_24">24</span> -his heart. “My brother—and I—but no, no! You can not -mean that!”</p> -<p>“Thompson, remember what I told you,” cried Morton, -sharply, shrinking back from before the agitated outlaw, one -hand seeking his belt. “Yes, I <i>do</i> mean it. Your brother -killed Hackett, and he is doomed. <i>You</i> took your chance -with the rest of us—you must fulfill your oath.”</p> -<p>“I will not—I’ll kill you first!” screamed the unfortunate -young man, and in his frenzy, his revolver was jerked from -the sheath at his side.</p> -<p>Now Morton’s precautions stood him in good stead. Thompson -sprung forward and clutched the half-crazed outlaw, pinning -his arms closely to his sides, holding him powerless as a -child.</p> -<p>Thus assisted, Morton quickly disarmed Colton, then motioned -Thompson to release him. With a hot, angry glance -around him, the young man stood still, quelling his emotion -by a powerful exertion of will.</p> -<p>“Now let me know just what you mean by this action, -Jack Colton. Have you forgotten your oath this soon? Do -you intend to defy the league?”</p> -<p>“Yes—when you try to make me soil my hands with the -blood of a brother,” was the firm reply.</p> -<p>“Ah, you remember the tie now, do you?” sneered Morton. -“And yet, only a few weeks since, you swore that you’d have -his heart’s blood. Have you forgotten that he cursed you, -and drove you from his door like a dog, because, as he said, -you insulted his wife?”</p> -<p>“He only served me right. I did insult her, but it was -when I was drunk. Never mind that now. I tell you that -I will not murder him.”</p> -<p>“Take care—you are sealing your own doom by these -words. You have been told your duty—obey, or take the -consequence.”</p> -<p>“Let it come. I am ready.”</p> -<p>“Durn the fool—what’s the use o’ palaverin’?” growled -Thompson. “Here’s the bullets; shake ’em up, an’ give <i>him</i> -a turn.”</p> -<p>“For the last time—will you obey?”</p> -<p>“No.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_25">25</div> -<p>Again the drawing of the death-lottery was gone through, -this time even more deliberately than before. Evidently Morton -was anxious to put Colton to death, from some reason of -his own. During its progress, the attitude of the prisoner—for -such he now was—did not change, but his features altered -greatly. His resolution seemed dying out as he noted the cool -nonchalance with which the lots were drawn. Life appeared -more and more dear to him.</p> -<p>“It’s me,” uttered Thompson, with a coarse laugh. “Well, -Colton, my boy, since it’s so, reckon I must. How’ll you hev -it—lead or steel?”</p> -<p>“Neither. Spare me—do not murder me!” gasped the -young man, pale and trembling.</p> -<p>“You know the alternative,” coldly replied Morton. “Do -your duty and you are safe.”</p> -<p>“You are not jesting—you mean this?”</p> -<p>“Yes. Strike the blow that avenges Israel Hackett, and -we will forget that you refused to do your duty.”</p> -<p>“I will do it. I did not think it was so hard to die; and -he <i>did</i> treat me mean—like a dog—he even kicked me!” muttered -Colton, tremblingly.</p> -<p>Morton’s eye gleamed. This sudden change seemed to -please him greatly. Thompson looked on in disgust. He felt -only contempt for this pitiful craven.</p> -<p>“Come, we have lost time enough. Mount and let’s be -going. We’ll make a clean sweep of the corrals, too, while -about it. Thompson, you and I will keep our friend, here, -company,” and Morton glanced significantly at his acolyte.</p> -<p>The little band filed forth from the woods, and then set -out over the prairie at a rapid gallop—the one gait of Morton’s -horsemen. They had only a few miles to travel, and of -that they made short work.</p> -<p>Jack Colton rode between Thompson and Morton, his head -bowed as though strongly agitated. The outlaw chief was in -high spirits. Whatever may have been his object, he was -greatly pleased with the course affairs had that night taken.</p> -<p>“Yonder’s the ranche,” muttered Thompson, slackening his -pace. “Now, what’s the programme, old man?”</p> -<p>“Well, our first care is to see that Colton, here, does his -duty. Either you or I can go with him to the door, just to -<span class="pb" id="Page_26">26</span> -keep his courage up, you know; the other can take charge of -the men and go through the stables and corral.”</p> -<p>“Jest as you say, Cap’n Jap. But how’d we best work it—bu’st -in an’ take the critter by s’prise, or knock ’im up?”</p> -<p>“Best rap at the door. He’ll think it’s all right when he -hears Jack’s voice. And as for you, my man,” addressing -Colton, “remember that your life depends upon how you act -this night. Thompson, you will keep him covered with your -pistol, and at the first sign of treachery, drop him. You hear -me?”</p> -<p>“Yas—I’ll do it, too, so mind yer eye, ole boy,” and the -tall ruffian uttered an oath to bind his threat.</p> -<p>“You waste a great many words. I have to do this deed, -and I will do it. Why do you threaten so much?” quietly -added Colton.</p> -<p>“Because I don’t half-trust you. I believe you are a traitor -at heart, and I am half-sorry that I gave you another -chance at the grove. But take care! You’d better have been -born dead than to attempt any treachery toward us now. -While one of the band lives, your life will be in peril.”</p> -<p>“His will may be good a-plenty, but he hain’t got the sand -in his craw to act the traitor. But never fret, Cap’n Jap. I’ll -see that he puts Hen Colton out o’ the way, or down he goes -hisself. Come, we’d better git down here. The houn’s begin -to smell us a’ready.”</p> -<p>The entire party now dismounted, securing their animals to -the rude rail fence, at this point being hidden from the house -by the long hay-topped stables. After a few whispered instructions -from Jasper Morton, Thompson linked his arm in -that of Colton, and glided silently toward the house.</p> -<p>As they crossed the stile-blocks, a furious barking broke -the air, and half a dozen large hounds came rushing toward -them. Thompson cocked his pistol, as he muttered in Colton’s -ear:</p> -<p>“Quiet ’em, Jack—still the brutes, or you’ll never live to -make love to Hen’s widow!”</p> -<p>“Should you harm me, those brutes would tear you to -pieces before you could fire twice,” coolly replied Colton. -“See—they know me.”</p> -<p>The huge hounds had recognized the hand that had so often -<span class="pb" id="Page_27">27</span> -fed them in days gone by, and their angry greeting turned to -one of joy. With difficulty Colton kept them from leaping -upon his body in a swarm, licking his hands and face.</p> -<p>Thompson uttered an oath. The baying of the hounds had -aroused the inmates of the building, for a faint light shone -through the heavily shuttered windows.</p> -<p>“Wal, it don’t matter much, a’ter all. We won’t hev to -knock so long. But now mind how ye act, Jack Colton. -You see—I hev my shooter cocked an’ ready. The fust -crooked step you make—down goes your apple-cart! Onderstand?”</p> -<p>“Yes. But suppose he refuses to open the door?”</p> -<p>“He won’t if you play it fine. You tell him to open; thet -you’re hard hit—bin in a muss at the Corners. I’ll sw’ar to -it. Thet’ll fetch him, sure. So—kinder lean on me. It’ll -look better an’ ’ll hide your barker from him ontil he comes -out. Keep cool now, and mind your eye, for your life depends -on your doing this job slick an’ without any bunglin’.”</p> -<p>“All right. You hail him. I’m hurt too bad to call so -loud,” added Colton, with a sickly laugh.</p> -<p>“Hellow—the house! You Hen Colton—I say—<i>durn</i> it -all, man be ye deef?” roared Thompson, supporting the young -man upon one strong arm.</p> -<p>“What’s wanting out there?” demanded a clear, strong -voice from the interior.</p> -<p>“You’re wanted—got a sick man here thet needs a little -doctorin’. Some kin o’ your’n, I reckon. Says he’s your -brother.”</p> -<p>“What’s that?” and the heavy door was cautiously swung -ajar a few inches.</p> -<p>“It’s me, Henry,” and the young man’s voice trembled.</p> -<p>“What’s the matter with you?” the settler demanded, a -trace of suspicion in his tones.</p> -<p>“Nothin’ much—only cut up a little. <i>Monte</i> Pete an’ One-eyed -Johnny doubled teams on him, down to the Corners. -They’re subjects for a fust-class wake, an’ the lad here is hurt -consid’able. He would hev me fetch him here—said he -wanted to make it up ’th you, or somethin’ like that. But I -reckon he’s wuth two dead critters yit,” hastily explained the -tall outlaw.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_28">28</div> -<p>“It’s true, Henry. Give me shelter for one night, or until -my hurts can be looked to. You will?”</p> -<p>“Of course—you are my brother still, though you had -acted twice as bad as you have done. Come—let me help -you.”</p> -<p>The settler, unsuspecting treachery, stepped out upon the -porch, his countenance expressing his anxiety. Then Thompson -nudged Jack Colton with his elbow, as he loosened his -hold.</p> -<p>What followed was quick as thought. A bright flash—a -sharp report—a death-cry of intense agony—a heavy fall upon -the broad stone steps.</p> -<p>Then Colton, still clutching the smoking pistol, sprung forward -and seizing his brother pushed him forcibly back into -the building, in a moment closing the heavy oaken door and -dropping the stout bars into place.</p> -<p>Inside the brothers—outside, what? A writhing, bleeding -body from which the life was rapidly ebbing. Thompson -the outlaw had been outwitted, and paid the penalty with his -life!</p> -<p>As he gave Colton the signal that the time had come for -his bloody deed, the young man turned his pistol against his -breast and fired. With bullet-pierced breast, the outlaw fell, -dying.</p> -<p>Henry Colton was thunderstruck. At first he believed -that the assault was upon him, but when his brother closed -and barred the door, with that horrible groaning outside, an -inkling of the truth flashed upon his mind.</p> -<p>“What is this—what do you mean, Jack?” he gasped, bewildered.</p> -<p>“It means that I have saved your life, Henry, for the present. -But come—is the house well secured? We’ll have a -desperate fight on our hands before many minutes.”</p> -<p>“Yes—all is secure. But explain—I don’t understand. -You are not hurt—that man lied?”</p> -<p>“No, I am well. That was part of a plot. But first—out -with the light, then go and tell your wife that you are safe. -Tell her that there is no real danger, for we can easily beat -them off until day, and they’ll not dare stay longer, for fear -of the neighbors. Go now—then hasten back here.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_29">29</div> -<p>Henry Colton followed his brother’s advice, for he heard -his affrighted wife calling his name in anxious tones from the -upper half-story, that answered for sleeping apartments. A -true woman of the border, she felt safe on seeing him unhurt, -and stilling the child, she hastily dressed and followed her husband -to the lower floor.</p> -<p>“Mary, this is no place for you,” murmured Henry as she -glided to his side. “Go and stay with Tommy. There may -be danger here.”</p> -<p>“No more to me than to you, Henry. I can load your -weapons for you, if you have not time. No—I will not go. -Tommy is safe up stairs, and my place is here beside you.”</p> -<p>“Let her stay, Henry. It will show me what I have to -make amends for. Mary,” added Jack, his voice sounding -husky, “while I have time, let me pray your forgiveness. I -was drunk and half crazy, or I would have known better than -to have insulted you. You will try and forget my words?”</p> -<p>“Yes—and we will be true brother and sister after this. -You can not guess how deeply it hurt me, knowing that I -had caused hard feelings between you and Henry.”</p> -<p>“He was right—it was my fault. But I’ll make amends, -if my life is spared.”</p> -<p>His brother understood this last remark though Mary did -not, for Jack had, in a few hasty words, told him all. How, -when driven from his home by his only brother, he had fallen -into the tempter’s snare, and become one of Jasper Morton’s -“Night Hawks.” He told him too of the death-doom -sworn by the outlaws, and that while one of the Night Hawks -lived, neither would be safe from danger. It was this thought -that clouded both their brows.</p> -<p>Henry Colton marveled greatly that no attack had been -made, though full quarter of an hour had elapsed since the -fall of Thompson, but a word from Jack explained this. The -Night Hawks, busy plundering the stables and corral, no doubt -fancied that the death-cry proceeded from the settler, and -that the chosen executioner had done his work well. But -they would soon discover the truth, and then—</p> -<p>“Ha! it’s coming now!” muttered Jack Colton, in a low, -strained tone, as a peculiar whistle came faintly to their ears. -“That’s Morton’s signal to Thompson.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_30">30</div> -<p>“Stand in this corner, Mary, out of range. We must -show the devils no mercy now, and remember that the more -we lay out to-night, the less we will have to fight in the future,” -sternly added the settler.</p> -<p>“If the moon only shone brighter!” muttered Jack, his -eyes gleaming viciously. “I’d give my left hand for a fair -shot at that devil, Morton!”</p> -<p>“I know him now. If he’s wise, he’ll keep out of range. -Look! yonder they come!”</p> -<p>The rifles of the brothers clicked ominously, and then two -dark muzzles protruded slightly from the small loop holes. -The house had been built with an eye to defense against the -Indians though until now the settler had been unmolested. The -outlaw whom he had shot, he detected riding off on a valuable -stallion, the day before, and at his rifle’s crack, Israel Hackett -fell dead. Horse-stealing was regarded as an even more -heinous crime than murder, in those days.</p> -<p>Jasper Morton had chuckled fiendishly, as he heard the -shot and death-cry. He believed that his plans had been -successfully carried out. But he became uneasy at the long -delay of his acolyte, and gave the signal as stated. No answer -coming, he began to suspect the truth, and mustering -his men, was now approaching the dark and silent building.</p> -<p>“When you are sure of your aim, Jack,” muttered Colton, -“tell me.”</p> -<p>“I’m ready now.”</p> -<p>“Then—fire!”</p> -<p>Two whiplike reports rung out upon the clear night air, -sounding almost like one. Two of the Night Hawks fell to -the ground, writhing in their death-agonies. Wild cries -broke from the survivors, and with one accord they broke -and fled, seeking the nearest cover, for the moment completely -demoralized.</p> -<p>The brothers laughed, and quickly reloaded their weapons. -But Mary seemed greatly agitated. As Henry noted her pale -and frightened face, she murmured</p> -<p>“<i>What if they fire the house!</i>”</p> -<p>“My God! I did not think of that!” gasped Colton.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_31">31</div> -<h2 id="c3"><span class="small">CHAPTER III.</span> -<br />THE MIDNIGHT CONFLICT.</h2> -<p>A strange fear filled the breast of the young hunter, Ned -Campbell, as he dashed away over the prairie, his eyes riveted -upon the point where he had last seen his friend in hot pursuit -of the weird rider. And yet, had he attempted, he -could not have given expression to this dread, in words.</p> -<p>Something seemed to tell him that Fred Hawksley was -running blindfold into a deadly peril—the more to be dreaded -because unknown. That this strange woman was acting -the part of a <i>decoy</i>.</p> -<p>All the rumors that he had ever heard of her, now flashed -across his mind. Until this night he had treated them with -contempt, believing them mere fabrications, or else finding -birth in a superstitious imagination.</p> -<p>For six months past, that portion of Texas in and around -the “Corners,” had been filled with wild rumors and stories -in which a strange woman rider played a prominent part. -In one thing all coincided, that the woman was young and -bewilderingly lovely. In all else, the accounts differed.</p> -<p>One day she was seen here—the next there, miles and -miles away. Now she rode a spotted mustang of great -beauty and fleetness; again a black—then a bright bay. -Full twenty men, both young and old, solemnly affirmed that -they had chased her, some upon horses famed for speed and -endurance, but all declared that she had distanced them with -seeming ease. None had ever gotten within speaking distance -of her, until now Fred Hawksley declared that he had -heard her voice.</p> -<p>Where she lived, no one could tell. Certainly not in any -house in the county, for close search had been made by more -than one border youth whose impressible heart had been -fired by the strange beauty. When seen, she was ever alone. -All in all she was an enigma—and until now, Campbell had -believed her a myth.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_32">32</div> -<p>Aside from his personal friendship for Fred, another inducement -spurred Ned on. Rumor had it that the handsome -hunter had surrendered his heart to fair Fannie Hawksley, -Fred’s sister, and for once the owner was correct.</p> -<p>When they set forth upon their hunt, Fannie laughingly -bade him take good care of Fred, though there was an undercurrent -of seriousness in her tones that Ned understood. -He knew that Hawksley was rash and adventurous, even to -foolhardiness when his blood was fairly aroused, and he had -promised her to take care that he returned all right.</p> -<p>He remembered his promise now, and it spurred him on, -that and his faintly-defined presentiment of evil. Should -any thing serious happen to Fred, how could he face Fannie?</p> -<p>“Around that point I must catch sight of him,” he muttered, -as he urged on his good horse. “Unless I mistake, -I can see the prairie for ten miles from there, and surely I -was not insensible long enough for them to cross that stretch? -And once in sight, I can guard him against danger.”</p> -<p>The big bay horse covered the ground, with long, deer-like -bounds that swiftly lessened the distance. Though laboring -heavily—for full fifteen miles had been traversed -since leaving the bivouac, in addition to a long day’s travel—the -noble brute did not falter. He would continue his -stride until his great heart burst, as Ned well knew. But -this was no time to consider the welfare of a horse, when -the safety, perhaps the life of a dear friend hung in the -balance.</p> -<p>With eagerly straining gaze, the young hunter gained and -rounded the point of timber. A cry of wonder broke from -his dry lips, and he abruptly drew rein. Not a living soul -was to be seen, though the prairie stretched out before him, -smooth and level almost as a ballroom floor.</p> -<p>Where could his friend have gone? Surely not straight -on, across that tract? Impossible—it was fully ten miles, if -an inch. Around the <i>motte</i>? No—for the trail led straight -forward, as a glance showed him.</p> -<p>Then a sudden cry broke from Campbell’s lips, and he cast -a rapid glance around. He saw that the moonlight had deceived -him—that he was at least a mile further west than he -<span class="pb" id="Page_33">33</span> -had believed. All was plain to him now—the mystery was -a mystery no longer.</p> -<p>“The <i>baranca</i>—they are there—it must be so! But how—my -God! can that woman have been a <i>spirit</i>?”</p> -<p>The ranger reeled in his saddle. The strange events of -that night had unmanned him, and wild fancies took possession -of his brain. He half believed that this strange rider was -nothing but a delusion—a phantom who had lured his young -friend on to his death, by a fall down the <i>baranca</i> that, though -still invisible, he well knew lay before him at only a few -yards’ distance.</p> -<p>His mind a strange medley, Campbell urged his horse forward, -and in half a dozen more bounds, stood upon the verge -of the <i>baranca</i>; a deep, narrow ravine, with almost perpendicular -sides, the bottom thickly strewn with jagged bowlders -of different sizes. Though this ravine began less than a -mile to the south, Ned knew that it ran north for ten times -that distance, preserving the same general direction, though -winding and tortuous.</p> -<p>Still sitting his horse he peered eagerly down into the <i>baranca</i>. -The full moon behind him only lighted up a portion -of the further side. The bottom was wrapped in darkness -so deep that from where he stood, the eye could not penetrate -it.</p> -<p>A strange awe was upon the young ranger. All that was -superstitious in his nature was now fully awakened. It -seemed more than an adventure with common flesh and -blood.</p> -<p>Twice his lips parted to utter his friend’s name, and as often -he refrained, why, he could not himself tell. He peered -down into the darkness, his horse slowly trotting along the -escarpment, toward the north.</p> -<p>Suddenly Campbell gave vent to a cry. Close before him -seemed a narrow pathway leading down into the ravine.</p> -<p>He urged his horse forward, and descended below the level -of the prairie. But a very few moments convinced him that -even if he could descend to the bottom, he could do little -good without lights, and turning he scrambled once more to -the level ground.</p> -<p>He saw that his comrades had come up, and were now -<span class="pb" id="Page_34">34</span> -standing as if amazed. His was the figure that drew the cry -of astonishment from Craig Fenton.</p> -<p>“Quick, boys,” cried Campbell, riding toward them, “dismount -and get something for torches. They must be down -there—but whether dead or alive, God only knows!”</p> -<p>“You think that she—” began Fenton, in a low, hushed -voice.</p> -<p>“I don’t know—I’m afraid to think. But don’t talk—make -haste. We must search the ravine.”</p> -<p>The woods were near, and the young hunters well knew -what to select for torches. In a very few minutes they were -back to the edge of the <i>baranca</i>, where Ned Campbell had already -kindled a light with his flint and steel.</p> -<p>Bearing the feebly-flickering torches, the party descended -into the <i>baranca</i> by the path that, though rough, was amply -wide. They slowly advanced along the rough, rock-strewn -bottom, holding aloft their torches, expecting with each movement -to come upon the dead and mangled form of their -young friend.</p> -<p>The flaring lights caused the shadows to dance and move -weirdly, and a dozen times in as many minutes, their hearts -were set in a wild, sickening shudder as one of their number -believed he beheld the object of their quest. But as often the -mistake was proved.</p> -<p>The search was continued in silence. None cared to speak. -The same superstitious feeling was upon all. All in all, the -night was one not soon to be forgotten.</p> -<p>They had carefully searched the <i>baranca</i> upon both sides -of the spot for which the trail had pointed, and yet nothing -was discovered. They interchanged glances. Could it be -that the chase had turned and skirted the ravine? Campbell -answered the thought, positively.</p> -<p>“Not unless they entered the timber. It runs for nearly -three miles, and this gully for a good ten. I should have -seen them. No, you may laugh, but I believe they are somewhere -in this ravine. We know now that he did not ride -into it, here. But you know Fred. He don’t know what -fear is. If that woman rode into this—and further up there -are a dozen places where it could be done, if one was only -acquainted with the ground—he followed her. He could -<span class="pb" id="Page_35">35</span> -never quit the chase until he caught her or—she turned into -air!”</p> -<p>“Well, what shall we do? Fire a volley to let him know -we’re looking for him?” asked Fenton.</p> -<p>“No—not yet. I can’t tell you why, but somehow it -strikes me that there is mischief in this. Why did she -wait there until he was ready to chase her? She must have -seen what we were by the fire-light. Then, if friendly, why -run at all? I believe it’s a decoy of the Kiowas—you know -they are getting saucy again. If so, they are still in here, or -else we would have seen them as they rode away. Put out -the lights and we will explore the place. They can’t be far -away.”</p> -<p>After some objections this plan was adopted, and the -party, with ready weapons, explored the ravine for full half -a mile. Then their progress was stopped by a barrier of -huge bowlders, over which a footman could scarcely clamber -in noonday, much less a horse and rider.</p> -<p>“It’s no use,” muttered Fenton, disgustedly. “We can -do nothing here in the dark. Besides, I believe that they -must have turned round the timber, instead of coming into -this hole. In my opinion we’ve all been acting like a pack -of natural born fools!”</p> -<p>“The fust sensible words I’ve heerd sence leavin’ camp,” uttered -another.</p> -<p>“You may be right. I hope so, anyhow. We can go up -and see if the trail comes out again into soft ground, as it -must if they went into the wood.”</p> -<p>“First, give him a salute. He <i>may</i> be in here, hunting -for the girl, if she hid from him. It can do no harm, and -may do good. If alive and within hearing, Fred’ll answer.”</p> -<p>The rifles were discharged, one quickly succeeding the -other, and then all listened breathlessly. Minute after minute -passed by, without any reply. Campbell drew a long -breath.</p> -<p>“Well, let’s go. If he <i>is</i> in here, he will not mind a little -delay—for he must be dead!”</p> -<p>Slowly the little party retraced their steps and emerged -from the <i>baranca</i>. Mounting their horses they rode slowly -off along the edge of the flinty ground, scattered at regular -<span class="pb" id="Page_36">36</span> -intervals from that to the trees, in order that, should one overlook -the trail, another might find it.</p> -<p>The hopes that had been roused by Fenton’s suggestion -grew fainter with each rod passed over. And when the end -of the timber island was reached, full three miles from where -the trail was lost, the hunters reined in their horses, their -heads drooping in despair. That hope—seemingly the last—was -banished.</p> -<p>“What shall we do now?”</p> -<p>“What <i>can</i> we do?” and Campbell’s voice sounded strained -and husky.</p> -<p>“I hev it!” cried Ruel. “The dorgs—we kin trail him -’th them!”</p> -<p>“That’s so—why didn’t we think of it before?”</p> -<p>“We can try—but I haven’t much hope,” gloomily added -Campbell. “You know how we rode around—we must have -covered the trail.”</p> -<p>“But we can <i>try</i>—don’t be so craven, Ned. It’s not like -you to gi’ up so easy.”</p> -<p>“I know it—but something tells me that Fred is lost—if -not dead, that we will never see him again. Why, I don’t -know. I never felt so before to-night. Boys,” and his voice -sunk to a whisper, “I believe that was a—a <i>spirit</i> that poor -Fred chased!”</p> -<p>No one answered, and they rode on in silence. The true -born and raised Westerner, is naturally superstitious. It -seems inherent with them. Though some may deny this, I -<i>know</i> it to be truth.</p> -<p>“Wal, I don’t know as Colton’s dogs kin trail a <i>sperit</i>, but -I know that truer varmints don’t live. Ef <i>they</i> cain’t find -Fred, then he <i>is</i> gone—shore!”</p> -<p>“Ha! listen—you hear that?”</p> -<p>Campbell’s voice trembled with excitement.</p> -<p>Two muffled reports came roaring over the prairie, unmistakably -that of firearms. All heard them, and for a moment, -believed that it was Hawksley signaling to them. -But then Ruel—the keenest ear, by far, among them—cried:</p> -<p>“Ef it’s Fred, he’s at Colton’s. Them shots kem from -thar.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_37">37</div> -<p>“He’d hardly have gone there—and if he did, why would -he fire?”</p> -<p>“He wouldn’t—’tain’t him. Boys—you hear <i>me</i>; thar’s -trouble thar!” muttered Ruel, as several more reports—sounding -confused as though fired in an irregular volley—came -faintly to their ears.</p> -<p>“That’s so—ride now, boys; never mind the horses. -There’s more at stake than their lives!” gritted Campbell, for -the moment forgetting the strange disappearance of his friend, -in the knowledge that others were threatened.</p> -<p>But there is a limit to animal endurance, and though better -horses were never bestrode than those of the young hunters, -they galloped heavily and laboriously. That day and -night had been too much for them.</p> -<p>Though loving their noble beasts, the young rangers now -plied their spurs mercilessly. As Ruel had said, there was -trouble ahead. With voice and rowel they urged the failing -animals on, their hearts beating rapidly with the fear of being -too late. And the horses, true to the core, plunged on, -less and less rapidly.</p> -<p>“Ha—look!”</p> -<p>Campbell it was that spoke, but the gesture of his outstretched -hand was unheeded. All eyes beheld the same object, -and easily interpreted its meaning.</p> -<p>Sweeping round a timber island, a thrilling sight burst upon -their gaze. A bright glare was rapidly ascending to the -heavens, spreading and growing more and more vivid with -each moment. One glance told them the meaning of this. -A house was burning—the house of their friend and neighbor, -Henry Colton!</p> -<p>That this was result of no accident, was equally plain, for -again there broke forth the significant crash of firearms. It -meant murder and rapine.</p> -<p>“We must make it, boys, whether it kills the horses or -not!” gritted Campbell. “One more dash, and we’ll do—<i>now</i>!”</p> -<p>With the words, spurs were plunged rowel deep into the -already deeply scored sides of the tortured beasts, and with -wild snorts of pain and terror, they dashed madly toward the -brilliant light. Holding their breaths, the young hunters -<span class="pb" id="Page_38">38</span> -handled their weapons and prepared for the result. The -half-mile was lessened to one-half that—a third, and still -the animals thunder on.</p> -<p>A stumble—an almost human groan of agony, and one horse -is down, the hot life-blood spurting from his mouth and nostrils. -It is that of Ruel. The tall hunter was prepared for -this. He felt the noble brute’s sides collapse, and with a -nimble spring, alighted softly upon his feet.</p> -<p>“Good—hurry up, Ruel,” cried Campbell, who had witnessed -the act.</p> -<p>“Bet ye—I’ll be thar!” and the hunter bounded forward -like a deer.</p> -<p>It may seem strange that the Night Hawks take no alarm at -this approach, but they did not. The prairie-grass was thick, -the turf moist and springy; the burning building roared and -crackled loudly, and they were all intent upon watching the -doors, knowing that the inmates must soon emerge or else -die a horrible death in the flames.</p> -<p>They had not long to wait. Those within were not men -to die tamely, while a chance remained to deal a blow at their -enemy. To stay within was certain death. To come out -seemed equally hopeless, yet they chose this alternative.</p> -<p>The front door was flung wide and two forms sprung out -into the open air, with cocked and leveled rifles. A rattling -volley was fired at them, but their movements were so quick, -their change of position so abrupt, that most of the missiles -went wide of the mark.</p> -<p>One fell to his knees—it was Henry Colton. A wild -shriek was added to the tumult, and Mary, his wife, who had -been forced to remain behind while the men drew the fire of -the Night Hawks, sprung out, her little boy clasped to her -breast, and flung herself beside the wounded settler.</p> -<p>Colton seemed invigorated by her presence and once -more sprung erect, his rifle echoing the death-knell of an outlaw. -Then a wild cry broke from his lips as he sunk back. -He caught sight of the rescuers.</p> -<p>A hoarse cheer—a deadly volley—then the young hunters -sprung from their trembling animals, and with drawn pistols, -rushed to close quarters. But the Night Hawks did not tarry -to test their metal.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_39">39</div> -<p>As a band they were annihilated. Two-thirds of their -number had fallen, what with the fire of the besieged and this -withering volley, discharged as they all rushed forward to -complete their murderous work. With cries of terror the -survivors turned and fled for their horses, followed by a rapid -discharge of pistol-bullets.</p> -<p>Jack Colton had escaped the storm of bullets that saluted -their bold dash from the blazing building, and recognizing -his now deadly enemy, Jasper Morton, the Night-Hawk chief, -had fired at him. The outlaw staggered, but did not fall, -and he was one of the few that gained their horses.</p> -<p>With a curse of rage Colton dashed aside his useless rifle -and sprung after Morton. There was reason in his action, -for he knew that his life would be in peril as long as the -outlaw lived.</p> -<p>Twice he fired, but without apparent effect. The Night-Hawk -leader sprung into a saddle, then urged his horse to -rapid flight. Colton promptly imitated this action, and the -two, pursued and pursuer, soon disappeared without the line -of light shed by the blazing dwelling.</p> -<p>“Look to these devils, Ruel,” hurriedly uttered Campbell, -as he looked around upon the scene. “If any are living bind -them. We’ll have a hanging bee here to-morrow!”</p> -<p>“Oh, Ned!” sobbed Mrs. Colton, “come to Henry—quick! -He’s dying!”</p> -<p>“No—he’s only hurt a little, not much. He’ll be all right -in a minute or two,” soothingly uttered Campbell, though far -from being so confident in his heart. “How is it, Colton, -old fellow?”</p> -<p>The settler smiled faintly, then murmured his wife’s name. -She was beside him in a moment, and then, with her hand -clasped in his, he swooned.</p> -<p>“Now, Mary,” uttered Ned, as firmly as he could, “be -strong—nerve yourself, for on you may depend Henry’s life. -If you take on this way it’ll kill him, sure.”</p> -<p>“I will—I’ll be calm. But is there hope—he is not dead?”</p> -<p>“Pooh! far from it. You’ll not be a widow for many a -long year yet, my dear sister. It’s only loss of blood, with -the excitement, you see.”</p> -<p>While he spoke, Campbell was carefully examining Colton’s -<span class="pb" id="Page_40">40</span> -wound, and to his great joy, found that he had told the -truth, unknowingly. Only one bullet had struck him, severing -a minor artery in the left thigh, causing a profuse flow -of blood, but nothing that rest and quiet would not cure.</p> -<p>“What d’ y’ think, Ned?” muttered Ruel, his face black -with suppressed anger, “What d’ y’ think them imps hev -done?”</p> -<p>“What?” demanded Campbell, alarmed.</p> -<p>“Shot them dorgs—every one, dead es a nit!”</p> -<p>“Is that all? You startled me half to death!”</p> -<p>“All—<i>all</i>? Them dorgs—the best in Texas—truer’n death—oh -thunder!” spluttered Ruel.</p> -<p>“Never mind ’em—are there any horses around besides -ours?”</p> -<p>“Yes—them what was rid by those car’on.”</p> -<p>“The boys must ride further, then. We must rouse the -neighbors. Colton and his wife need care, and then we must -hunt down the villains that escaped. Besides, there’s Fred—he -must be found.”</p> -<p>With a grieved look at the carcasses of his favorite “dorgs,” -Ruel strode off to set the hunters at work. An hour later -the wounded man and his wife were on the way to shelter, -and Ruel was leading the hunt after those who had killed his -dogs.</p> -<h2 id="c4"><span class="small">CHAPTER IV.</span> -<br />THE BARANCA MYSTERY.</h2> -<p>It was a bitter blow to the Night-Hawk leader, Jasper -Morton, to see his long-worked-for revenge thus snatched from -his very grasp, just as the game seemed entirely in his own -hands. Long-worked-for, we say, for the reader must have -seen that his was no common enmity toward the two brothers; -why, may be explained hereafter.</p> -<p>Morton recognized the rescuing party, and knew that all -was lost. Few among that picked band but would have been -a good match for him single-handed, even before he received -the wound that well-nigh disabled his left shoulder.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_41">41</div> -<p>With a bitter curse at his ill luck, the outlaw sprung upon -his horse, and plunging spurs viciously into its ribs, dashed off -in rapid flight. Three others imitated his example; either -from chance or a hope that the young hunters would not separate, -each outlaw chose a separate course, riding for dear life.</p> -<p>As we have seen, Jack Colton marked his enemy, and followed -in hot pursuit upon one of the horses that the Night -Hawks had left fastened to the rail fence in the rear of the -stables. Then began another mad, headlong race, the third -one that had crossed the prairie that night.</p> -<p>The moon still shone brightly, and Colton could plainly -distinguish his quarry, save when a ridge intervened for a moment. -The distance separating them was not more than two -hundred yards, at the most, and to his fierce joy, Colton saw -that this was gradually being lessened, and while urging on -his excited horse, he assured himself that his pistols were in -readiness for use.</p> -<p>“Stop! Jasper Morton—coward!” he cried, in a voice that -trembled with rage and hatred. “Stop and prove your manhood—it -is only one man that chases you.”</p> -<p>The Night Hawk turned and glanced over his shoulder, but -instead of checking his madly racing steed, he bent lower in -the saddle and urged him to a greater speed. Colton fairly -howled aloud in his rage as he saw the outlaw slowly but -surely creeping away from him, and drawing a knife, he -thrust its keen point several times into the hips of his horse.</p> -<p>Snorting wildly, the tortured brute sprung forward with a -speed that seemed to rival that of the lightning’s bolt, and -Colton laughed aloud as he raised his revolver. Another -score moments and he felt that he would be within range.</p> -<p>Then his pistol cracked, deliberately, at regular intervals. -His nerves were like iron now, and he felt that revenge was -his, at last.</p> -<p>But the moonlight was deceitful, the motion of his horse -unsteady, and the bullets hissed harmlessly by the fugitive. -A bitter curse broke from his lips as he emptied the first revolver.</p> -<p>Thrusting it into his belt, he again made use of the cruel -spur. With wild, killing bounds, the tortured animal brought -his merciless rider nearer his foe.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_42">42</div> -<p>Again Colton leveled a pistol—his second revolver. At its -sharp report, the horse bestrode by the Night-Hawk leader -gave a sudden bound, that told the bullet had found its mark.</p> -<p>The pursuer laughed aloud, and leveled his weapon once -more. The pursued uttered a fierce despairing curse and turning -in his saddle, fired three shots in quick succession at his -relentless pursuer.</p> -<p>Fortune favored him in the result, for though scarcely pausing -for aim, one missile foiled Colton’s hopes. With a shrill -scream of pain, the noble brute stumbled and fell, casting the -settler headlong to the ground. A bullet had struck its foreleg, -that already overtasked, gave way, causing the heavy fall.</p> -<p>Morton heard the fall, and glancing back, uttered an exultant -laugh. For a moment he pressed hard upon the bit, as -though he would return to contemplate his triumph, but then, -altering his mind, he spurred on.</p> -<p>He was well-nigh disabled, and did not know how many -or close were his pursuers. He was in no condition for a -fight, just then. His wound, freely bleeding, already caused -him to feel faint, his head beginning to swim dizzily.</p> -<p>Added to this he felt his horse weaken and act as though -failing. For a moment he wondered at this, for it was his -own animal, a proved good one, but then he divined the cause. -One or more of the settler’s bullets had found their mark.</p> -<p>With hard-drawn breath and gritting teeth the outlaw -glanced over his shoulder. To his joy the prairie was clear -of pursuers. Then Colton had been alone!</p> -<p>The horse twitched his tail, and his ears drooped. Morton -knew what these symptoms meant, and he prepared for the -result. Drawing hard upon the reins, he slackened his speed. -It was time. The poor brute was trembling convulsively, the -blood oozing from its nostrils and hanging lip.</p> -<p>Morton sprung to the ground, with a fierce curse. The -horse staggered when relieved from his weight, and gave a -faint whicker as it turned its head toward its master. But -that was all. With an almost human groan it fell forward, -dead.</p> -<p>“Curse the luck!” snarled Morton, wincing with pain as he -moved his left arm. “Just now when I most need him—wounded, -too! Them devils will be upon my track by daylight—and -<span class="pb" id="Page_43">43</span> -where can I go? In the <i>motte</i>? They’d unearth -me there. Ha! I have it—I can hide in the <i>baranca</i>—at least -until I can pick up strength to go further. There’s a thousand -holes among the rocks that I can hide in; unless they -try hounds,” and he started at the thought, for he knew that -in such a case, he was indeed lost.</p> -<p>Still Morton knew that the <i>baranca</i> afforded him the best -chance of eluding the search that he knew would be made -for him, if only by Jack Colton, as the rocks would leave no -sign for human eyes to trace him out by. His horse had carried -him to within half a mile of the ravine, and though feeling -weak and faint, he set out at his best pace for the refuge, -not daring to stop even long enough to dress his wound.</p> -<p>He little dreamed of the adventure that was to befall him -there, else he might have hesitated before choosing the <i>baranca</i> -in preference to the woods.</p> -<p>A few minutes carried the Night-Hawk chief to the edge -of the <i>baranca</i>, and then he hastened along the verge, seeking -for a spot down which he might clamber without too severely -exerting his wounded arm. A mutter of satisfaction greeted -his success, and Morton cautiously groped his way along a -winding trail that evidently led down to the bottom.</p> -<p>He, even then, noticed that this trail had been used, but -that gave him no uneasiness. So too had a score of paths at -as many different points, by both human and beast.</p> -<p>The trail led him toward the southern extremity of the -<i>baranca</i>, and on reaching the bottom, he naturally continued -on in that direction. For some time he sought among the -huge, thick-lying bowlders for a snug covert, without finding -any that satisfied him.</p> -<p>Before him loomed up the rocky barricade that had checked -the progress of the young hunters while engaged in their -search for Fred Hawksley, earlier on that same night. Morton, -however, had reached the opposite side, facing the north, -instead of south.</p> -<p>Among this pile of bowlders Morton hoped to find a secure -refuge, and had almost gained its foot when a low cry broke -from his lips, and he abruptly paused, crouching down to the -ground, one hand clutching a revolver-butt. A strange object -had caught his gaze—doubly strange in that place.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_44">44</div> -<p>“Was it only fancy?” he muttered, peering curiously forward. -“I don’t see it now—it’s gone! And yet I don’t think -it was a fire-fly. Ha!”</p> -<p>While muttering these words the outlaw slowly rose erect -until he assumed his former position. The exclamation told -that he had again caught sight of the object.</p> -<p>This was a small point of light, clear and brilliant, glowing -steadily and unchangeably. As he slowly raised his head, -Morton saw that this only shone from a small aperture, -for beyond a certain point, in either direction, it was invisible.</p> -<p>For a time the Night-Hawk chief forgot his bodily pain -and exhaustion in wonder. There was something strange in -this light, shining from that lone and wild spot, that he resolved -to investigate.</p> -<p>Keeping his eye riveted upon the star-like point, he slowly -and cautiously advanced, with almost every step losing sight -of the light, but then recovering it again. In this manner he -gained the lower bowlders, and it seemed now that he could -reach the light by simply outstretching his hand. Instinctively -he raised an arm, then laughed faintly at his own credulity.</p> -<p>Cautiously Morton climbed further among the rocks, his -eyes still fixed upon the light. A fragment crumbled beneath -his hand, and he fell forward, striking his head with violence -upon the rock.</p> -<p>The shock and pain wrung a slight cry from his lips, and -the pistol slipped from his grasp, clattering sharply upon -the stones, fortunately not exploding. Quickly recovering himself, -Morton glanced forward; but the light was gone!</p> -<p>The blow upon the head confused him, or he might easily -have avoided what followed. Instead of retreating or concealing -himself, as prudence would have dictated, he remained -perched upon the bowlders, endeavoring to discover the -light.</p> -<p>A faint metallic clink caught his ear, and quickly following -the sound, his eyes seemed to outline, though dimly and -indistinct, the figure of a human being among the rocks. Only -the one brief glimpse was afforded him, for a blinding flash -filled his eyes—a stinging pain shot through his brain, and -<span class="pb" id="Page_45">45</span> -with a wild cry, he flung aloft his arms, falling backward to -the ground.</p> -<p>When he recovered consciousness, the outlaw captain found -himself lying upon a soft couch, evidently formed of skins, -for his hand clutched some hairy substance. A heavy throbbing -pain filled his brain, and his wounded shoulder ached -horribly.</p> -<p>With a half-conscious groan he raised a hand to his head. -It touched a sticky substance that he knew was clotted gore. -Then it was not all fancy—there had been a human form -standing before him, and the blinding blaze came from a pistol -or rifle that had wounded him.</p> -<p>“So you have come to,” uttered a deep voice, coming from -above or behind Morton’s head.</p> -<p>He started to a sitting posture and uttered a cry of terror -as his hand sought his belt, only to find it weaponless. A -low, taunting laugh followed this movement, then the voice -added, as footsteps moved toward the outlaw:</p> -<p>“You need have no fear, my dear sir; you are safe here, -for the present, at least.”</p> -<p>Morton turned his head, and by the dim light saw a tall -figure standing beside him—the figure of an old man with close-cropped -hair and smooth-shaven face. As he gazed, he knew -that this was the man who had fired the shot that wounded -him, while searching for the mystic light.</p> -<p>“Who are you—where am I?” he faltered, shrinking back -from the stranger.</p> -<p>“You are here—I am myself. That is all you need know -for a while. If you prove the man I fancy, I may tell you -more. But, in the mean time, lie still. Your wounds need -dressing, and I now have time to attend to them. Since you -came I’ve been busy watching the movements of some of your -friends—a very particular one, I judge, from a few words I -heard him mutter,” and the tall man gazed keenly at the -wounded outlaw.</p> -<p>“Who do you mean? I don’t understand you,” he muttered, -tremblingly.</p> -<p>“It was Jack Colton, I think,” slowly added the man.</p> -<p>Morton shrunk back in terror. He was totally unmanned -now, and heard the name with a shudder.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_46">46</div> -<p>“He—you won’t let him—”</p> -<p>“No. He is gone; but he must have followed you close. -I thought you were good friends.”</p> -<p>“How—you know me?” gasped Morton.</p> -<p>The strange man laughed.</p> -<p>“There are few persons in this region that I do not know. -You go by the name of Jasper Morton. But I don’t think -that is your real name. If it is, so much the worse for <i>you</i>. -You will never leave this place alive.”</p> -<p>“Mercy—what harm have I ever done you? Why should -you threaten me this way?”</p> -<p>“No particular harm, but you have <i>my secret</i>. That is reason -enough. You may judge whether I am a man to baulk -at trifles, by my having shot you as you were spying into my -affairs. I have a secret and an end. That secret must be -kept from <i>all</i> until my purpose is attained. If you come between, -so much the worse for you; you must be disposed of—or, -in plainer terms, I shall kill you.”</p> -<p>“But if I am not really Jasper Morton?” added the outlaw, -anxiously.</p> -<p>“That matters little, unless you be one of two persons. -Prove to me that you are either of those two, and you are safe.”</p> -<p>“And who are they?” quickly asked Morton.</p> -<p>“That <i>you</i> must tell me—not I you. But never mind -now. I must—”</p> -<p>The strange man abruptly paused in his speech, and the -wounded outlaw uttered a gasp of terror. A wild, shrill -cry—almost a yell, rung clearly upon their ears. It scarcely -seemed like the voice of a human being, unless of one hopelessly -insane.</p> -<p>The stranger frowned angrily, and a curse broke from his -lips. Then he uttered a low, peculiar whistle, twice repeated.</p> -<p>Morton had turned half round, forgetting his pain in wonder -and terror. As the whistle sounded the second time, he -saw a dim, shadowy figure glide out from the darkness and -stand before the old man.</p> -<p>Though he could not distinguish the features of this newcomer, -Morton knew that she—for it was unmistakably the -form of a woman—was young, from the lithe, rounded figure -and agile, graceful movements.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_47">47</div> -<p>The old man spoke a few quick words that the outlaw -could not catch, then added aloud as he strode away:</p> -<p>“If he attempts to arise, Lola, shoot him. He must not -escape yet.”</p> -<p>“I do not fear him. If he is wise, he will lie still.”</p> -<p>Morton could scarce believe his ears. The words and -voice were in such direct contrast. The one soft and musical -as the notes of a bird, the other stern and determined.</p> -<p>Strange events were crowding fast upon him that night, -but this was the strangest of them all. Speechless and half-stupefied, -he gazed upon the woman before him. Never before -had he beheld such marvelous beauty—loveliness of a -fiery, yet voluptuous, oriental type.</p> -<p>She was tall for a woman, several inches above the medium -hight, in fact, but all was the most perfect symmetry. -Her hair, black, glossy and luxuriant, hung in heavy masses -below her waist, unconfined save by a simple band of beaded -doe-skin that crossed above her forehead. Of a dark, Spanish-like -complexion, with large, lustrous eyes, cheeks tinged -with the red blush of perfect health; with full, slightly-pouting -lips of scarlet, rich, juicy and tempting; rounded chin, -and graceful neck sloping down to a swelling bust that Venus -herself might have envied; a round, compact waist incased -in a neatly-fitting dress of whitely-tanned doe-skin. Leggings -of the same material fitted the round, swelling limbs, ending -in dainty, beaded moccasins.</p> -<p>Standing in an attitude of careless ease, the strange beauty -was gazing half-mockingly upon the wounded outlaw, one -hand clasping the butt of a small, silver-mounted revolver with -an ease that bespoke long use and perfect familiarity with -the weapon.</p> -<p>“Who are you?” muttered Morton, staring at her as though -at a phantom. “I’ve seen you before—where?”</p> -<p>“I am my father’s daughter,” and the strange girl laughed, -clear and musically. “Do you think to gain from my lips -knowledge that <i>he</i> refused you? Wait—in good time you -shall know all or—nothing.”</p> -<p>“You threaten, too? What sort of a hornets’ nest is this -I’ve got into, I wonder?”</p> -<p>The strange girl laughed, her eyes and white teeth gleaming -<span class="pb" id="Page_48">48</span> -from out the dim light. But there was a peculiar expression -to her face that sent a thrill through the outlaw’s frame. -He had seen its counterpart once, as he faced a wounded -panther. In this woman’s eyes there was the same cruel, -deadly glitter that he had noted then.</p> -<p>Morton cast a quick glance around him. The dim light -had imperfectly revealed his surroundings; still, he could tell -that he was under ground.</p> -<p>The chamber he was in was low and irregular, of no great -dimensions, the walls and roof of intermingled earth and -rock. Around him hung various weapons, rifles, pistols, bows -and arrows, Indian tomahawks and knives. Robes and furs -were scattered around, or hanging from the walls.</p> -<p>The truth flashed upon him. The light he had discovered, -came from this chamber, the entrance to which was in some -manner concealed beneath or in the rocky barricade that intersected -the <i>baranca</i>. In falling he had alarmed the inmates. -Then the old man must have shot at him, in the -treacherous light aiming too high to produce death, though a -fraction lower would have ended the outlaw’s career forever.</p> -<p>Morton shuddered again, and the girl turned her head -quickly, the fire deepening in her eyes, as another cry came -from beyond the point where the old man had disappeared. -Then a low, gasping, gurgling sound and all was still.</p> -<p>“My God! there’s murder going on in there!” cried the -outlaw, half-arising, horror expressed in every feature.</p> -<p>“Lie still—move another inch and there’ll be murder here, -as well!” sharply uttered the girl, as the pistol rose to a level -with Morton’s head. “Down with you, or I fire!”</p> -<p>Morton sunk back, bathed in cold sweat. In a few moments -the old man reappeared, wiping his hands upon his -dress. The outlaw shuddered convulsively as he noted the -dark, red stains that discolored the skin. What deed of horror -had been enacted in that further chamber?</p> -<p>“You can go back to your station, now, Lola,” he uttered, -in a calm, even tone. “If I wish your presence, I will signal -you. Now, sir,” he added, as the woman disappeared from -view, “I can attend to you. But first, let’s see if there be -any need of dressing your wounds. A man at my time of -life dislikes unnecessary trouble. As I told you, if you <i>are</i> -<span class="pb" id="Page_49">49</span> -Jasper Morton, or indeed, any other than one of two persons, -there will be no need of dressing your hurts, because, in that -case, you must be <i>disposed of</i>, before you have a chance to -make known what you have discovered concerning this place -and its inmates.”</p> -<p>“You mean to—to <i>murder</i> me?”</p> -<p>“Exactly—that is the vulgar expression of what I -mean.”</p> -<p>“Why did you take me in here then?”</p> -<p>“Because—first, you seemed very curious to learn what -was going on inside; entirely too curious to suit my ideas of -propriety. So I shot you, and I meant to end your pryings -forever, too. But when I bent over you, to see if you were -really dead, something in your face struck me, and I fetched -you here to see what truth there was in the surmise. Now -tell me—are you Jasper Morton; is that your real name?”</p> -<p>“No.”</p> -<p>“Good! then what is? Remember, that the truth alone -can avail you, if any thing. Of course you can not guess -the names that run in my mind. Speak out—what is your -real name?”</p> -<p>Morton’s lips parted and his throat twitched, but he could -not speak. The knowledge that his own lips might condemn -him, was horrible. The resemblance that the old man -had been struck with, might after all be mere fancy.</p> -<p>“Spare me—I will take any oath—will be your slave, your -dog, if you spare my life,” he muttered, great drops of cold -perspiration starting out over his forehead.</p> -<p>“I take no man’s oath,” was the cold reply. “Speak -out—or I will believe you lie in saying your true name is -not Jasper Morton and reward you with this,” and as he -spoke, the cold muzzle of a revolver at full cock touched the -outlaw’s temple.</p> -<p>“Take it away—I will speak, if you only lower that!” -gasped the wounded man, shrinking back.</p> -<p>“Very well. Be quick.”</p> -<p>“My name is James—James Mestayer,” falteringly.</p> -<p>“You are speaking the truth?” coldly demanded the old -man, keenly eying the trembling wretch.</p> -<p>“Yes—the truth, so help me—”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_50">50</div> -<p>“Never mind. Don’t exult too soon. You had a brother?”</p> -<p>“Yes—Thomas. He died—was killed in California.”</p> -<p>“What was your father’s and your mother’s names?”</p> -<p>“James and Lucinda.”</p> -<p>“You had an uncle who married a sister to your mother?”</p> -<p>“Yes—father’s brother Albert. And you—you are the -man!” eagerly cried the outlaw.</p> -<p>“Yes, I am Albert Mestayer, your father’s brother. In -your face I saw what James was when young. That was -what stayed my hand. I believed that you was my nephew, -either James or Thomas, though I had not seen either for -near twenty years. Then you can guess—but no, you were -too young then, and I made James promise never to tell you -the black story,” muttered the old man, half to himself.</p> -<p>The outlaw, Mestayer, as we must now call him—gazed -keenly and curiously at this strangely found relation. He -scarce knew what to think. Until now, he believed him -dead, for that was what they—himself and brother—had -been taught to think.</p> -<p>“Never mind. We will talk matters over after awhile, -when you are stronger. If what I have heard of you is -correct, you may be of service to me. But now, let me -look to your hurts, and you can tell me how you received -the first.”</p> -<p>As the old man’s nimble fingers bound up the wounds, -Mestayer told the events of that night, so far as he knew -them, concealing nothing. He did not fear his uncle would -shrink from the crime.</p> -<h2 id="c5"><span class="small">CHAPTER V.</span> -<br />THE MAIDEN’S PERIL.</h2> -<p>Over a week had passed by since the night on which this -story opened, a week during which much had been done -though little effected. Early in the day following the house-burning, -a heavy shower fell that effectually obliterated all -<span class="pb" id="Page_51">51</span> -trails left by the fleeing Night Hawks and also destroyed -Campbell’s hopes of discovering his lost friend with the aid -of hounds.</p> -<p>Through that long week he had scarce rested an hour at -a time, spurred on by the pleadings of Fred’s sister, Fannie -Hawksley. He searched every rod of the <i>baranca</i>, in company -with Ruel and several other of the lost man’s comrades, -but without finding the slightest trace or clue. They clambered -over the rocky barricade, little suspecting the secrets -it concealed, or that the old man and his peerless daughter -were silently laughing at them for their mole-like blindness.</p> -<p>Thoroughly convinced that their friend had not entered -the <i>baranca</i> at all, the young hunters returned to the level -prairie. There a surprise awaited them.</p> -<p>Beyond the <i>baranca</i>, a mile distant, they caught sight of -a horse feeding upon the juicy grass. One glance sufficed. -It was the big yellow horse Mott, on which Fred Hawksley -had set forth in pursuit of the strange woman. The animal -was alone, saddled and bridled. Nothing could be seen of -his master.</p> -<p>The prairie around was closely scrutinized. One thing -was plain; the horse had not crossed the <i>baranca</i>, nor been -nearer to it than when found, since daylight, else the rain-moistened -turf would have betrayed the fact. Following its -trail, they found where it had stood for some time tied to the -hanging limb of a tree, in a hollow hidden from the <i>baranca</i>, -a mile or more distant. But nowhere could they find the -imprints of human feet.</p> -<p>All was done that human ingenuity could devise, but at -the end of the week, all was wrapt in darkness. Nothing -was learned regarding the young man’s fate, nor, during that -time, had any thing been heard of the strange woman rider. -Both had seemingly disappeared together, without leaving -any trace.</p> -<p>The agonized grief of the bereaved family had settled down -to a more quiet, though not less acute sorrow. The everyday -duties of life must be performed, though the heart be -breaking.</p> -<p>It was nightfall when a single horseman drew rein before -the dwelling of Archibald Hawksley, dismounting, and, with -<span class="pb" id="Page_52">52</span> -plump saddle-bags thrown over his arm, approached the front -door with that assured freedom so characteristic of the West. -There, hospitality is a matter of course. If sunset catches a -traveler near a house, that, for the time being, is his home. -He is welcomed, given the best the place affords, then sent on -his way rejoicing. An experienced traveler never offers money -in return; ’tis a poor reward for hospitality to insult a -host.</p> -<p>The traveler in question bore evidence of having ridden -many a mile, in the sand and dust that covered his garments, -and his heavy horse-hide boots. There was a peculiar air -about him that told a settler his occupation. Every thing, -from the heavy, “black-snake” whip down, stamped him a -drover.</p> -<p>Archibald Hawksley, a tall, stalwart man, bearing his years -well, warmly greeted the stranger. Five minutes later, the -drover was comfortably seated, pipe in mouth, awaiting the -evening meal that Fanny was overseeing.</p> -<p>“Stranger in these parts, I reckon,” quoth Hawksley, also -“blowing a cloud,” falling insensibly into the peculiar dialect -of the parts, though a well-educated man.</p> -<p>“Yas—this is my fust trip this fur out, though I’ve traded -over the line fer some y’ars. Met a feller in Naketosh” -(Natchitoches) “last trip—fergit his name now, but reckon it -don’t matter much—who told me thar was a chaince fer right -smart tradin’ up this a-way; so here I be, ready fer business. -I’ve got the money, you fellers hev got the spar’ horses an’ -cattle, so I guess we kin come to tarms.”</p> -<p>A man is never so grief-stricken as to entirely neglect his -personal interests, and Hawksley was soon deep in “business -talk” with Mark Haley, as the trader gave his name. There -was little difficulty in coming to terms, for the trader offered -good prices, seeming strangely liberal, for a drover.</p> -<p>During supper, Fannie several times caught his gaze resting -fixedly upon her face, and felt a strange, ill-defined uneasiness -that she could not entirely banish. And yet this close scrutiny -might well be pardoned, for the maiden was very pleasing -to look upon, and the drover seemed just in the prime of -life, when one’s fancy is most quickly caught by a fresh, lovely -face.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_53">53</div> -<p>Fannie Hawksley was more than ordinarily beautiful—indeed -the family were noted for their good-looks, and she was -the bright star of all. Under the medium hight, small and -light as a fairy, her form was well developed and true-proportioned. -Rich brown hair, a clear, fresh complexion, and -melting hazel eyes—little wonder that Mark Haley gazed admiringly -at her.</p> -<p>After supper was dispatched, the men stepped outside, and, -with lighted pipes, continued their bartering. Haley’s eyes -often wandered toward the house, seemingly admiring its -structure, a two-story building being something of a novelty -at that time, so far on the frontier.</p> -<p>That evening Ned Campbell called, as usual since Fred’s -disappearance, to report progress. It was the same story of -baffled search. Nothing had been learned regarding the missing -man.</p> -<p>Mark Haley seemed deeply interested in the story, but could -offer no suggestion that had not already been tried. Hawksley -sunk into a troubled reverie, and then abruptly retired, -first showing Haley his room.</p> -<p>An hour later Ned Campbell took his departure, sad and -heart-sick. For several months he had been Fannie’s accepted -suitor, but never until this night had she set the time for their -wedding.</p> -<p>“Ned,” she had said, looking up into his bold, handsome -face, as his arms tightly encircled her lithe, rounded form, “I -can not marry until Fred returns home, or—or is found. If -alive, bring him here; if dead, bring me proof, and I will be -yours. In this horrible uncertainty, I can think of nothing -else. It is killing mother and father. Bring him back to us, -and I am yours.”</p> -<p>“If man can do it, Fannie, I will. But there seems little -hope. Think what we have done—how we have searched. -But, God helping me, I will find him. If only for your sake, -I will not rest until I do. Good-by, darling. I will not come -any more until I can bring you tidings, either good or bad. -It only makes the work harder. Seeing your grief unnerves -me. Good-by; pray for my success, and hope for the best, -darling.”</p> -<p>“God bless you, Ned,” she answered, her bright eyes -<span class="pb" id="Page_54">54</span> -dimmed with tears. “You deserve a better girl than I am, but I -will make you happy if I can.”</p> -<p>Campbell dared not reply in words, but their lips met in a -long, clinging kiss of pure and holy love, then he tore himself -away, and mounting his horse, galloped furiously away -toward his own home.</p> -<p>Mechanically, Fannie closed and secured the door and windows, -then covered up the embers in the fire-place with ashes, -and taking a candle, slowly ascended the stairs to her chamber. -Though she knew it not, eager eyes were fixed upon -her form until the door closed behind her—eyes that burned -with an evil glow—the eyes of Mark Haley, the drover.</p> -<p>The building was quiet and still. All seemed buried in -profound slumber; but there was one pair of eyes that thought -not of closing; one brain that was busy concocting a piece of -diabolical treachery.</p> -<p>Nearly two hours passed by after Mark Haley watched Fannie -Hawksley to her chamber, before he made a move. Then, -with moccasins upon his feet, instead of the heavy boots, he -noiselessly emerged from his room, having in one hand a -small bull’s-eye lantern, the slide only partially turned. In -the other he held a small patch of what looked like soiled paper -or cloth, and a coil of stout string. The bushy black -beard seemed one-sided, as though it was false, and had become -slightly disarranged.</p> -<p>In the darkness, but partially dispelled by the tiny ray of -light, his eyes burned and glowed with a phosphorescent luster -that marks the orbs of cruel, treacherous creatures, whether -human or quadruped. Pausing, he bent his ear and listened -intently.</p> -<p>The house was still as death. Evidently the inmates were -all peacefully slumbering, for a time happily forgetful of their -great loss.</p> -<p>Haley smiled viciously, showing the white teeth through -the bushy mask of hair. He chuckled, low and exultantly. -Thus far, his plans had worked admirably. The settler had -not suspected him for other than he seemed.</p> -<p>“It works like a charm—had I ordered all things, they could -not have turned out better to my mind,” he muttered, as his -ear was bent close to the door of Fannie’s chamber. “She -<span class="pb" id="Page_55">55</span> -sleeps—I can hear her breathing regularly. If I can only -reach her before she awakes. A cry from her lips would -fetch that man upon me, and I do not wish to kill him—not -yet; a different death than a quick one by a bullet awaits -him. A thousand times I could have done that—but my revenge -is better, much better.”</p> -<p>These last words were hissed forth with a venom indescribable. -Though he knew it not, Archibald Hawksley was entertaining -his most deadly enemy.</p> -<p>Gently Haley lifted the simple latch, and his eyes snapped -exultantly as he found the door yield to his pressure. Deeply -troubled, Fannie had neglected securing it before retiring, -and now she lay at the mercy of this demon in disguise.</p> -<p>Closing the dark-lantern, Haley stealthily entered the -chamber, closing the door behind him. That would be another -barrier for sound to pass through, in case Fannie should -take the alarm too soon for his purpose.</p> -<p>The maiden still slept peacefully, breathing soft and regularly. -The bed was dimly revealed by the moonlight that -filtered through the window shade, and the cat-like eyes of -the intruder could just discern the outlines of the maiden’s -head and shoulder against the snowy pillow.</p> -<p>The light was sufficient for his purpose, and he gently -placed the lantern upon the floor, crouching low down upon -hands and knees. Thus, unless Fannie should raise up -alarmed, he was hidden from her sight.</p> -<p>Stealthily, noiselessly, like a serpent of evil, the masked -fiend crept toward the bedside, with ready implements that -had been provided before entering the house. Fannie breathed -on, soft and low, as he noiselessly arose and stood beside -her.</p> -<p>A ray of moonlight fell upon her countenance, a soft luster-like -halo encircled her head, a pearly tear glistened upon her -cheek, but that fiend felt no pity—only a ferocious joy that -he had thus far succeeded in his designs. The rich brown -hair loosened from its fastenings, covered her neck and gently-heaving -bosom as with a vail, while one hand seemed -pressed above her heart to still its throbbings.</p> -<p>Only for a moment did Haley permit himself to gaze upon -the picture of peaceful innocence, then he acted. One hand -<span class="pb" id="Page_56">56</span> -hovered over the maiden’s throat, while the other, holding -the prepared plaster, clapped it adroitly over her mouth.</p> -<p>The maiden, thus rudely awakened, looked at the intruder -with horror-distended eyes, but the cry she strove to utter, -died away in her throat. The plaster closed her lips effectually, -and the brawny hand tightly clutched her throat. Mark -Haley was complete master of the situation.</p> -<p>“Lie still—act wisely and obey, or it will be the worse for -you. I do not wish to harm you—will not unless you force -me to do so. Remember this—if the house is aroused, it -will be too late to save you. I will kill you first. You hear? -I am not a man to idly threaten what I will not perform.”</p> -<p>Fannie, half strangled, asked the question with her eyes—“What -do you mean to do with me?” Haley seemed to read -her meaning, for he replied:</p> -<p>“I do not intend to harm you, at least not now. But you -must go with me. Remember, at the first attempt to alarm -your father, I send this knife home to your heart,” and as he -hissed the words, Haley held a broad, keen blade before the -maiden’s eyes. “I tell you this as a warning. You will -heed it if you have any love for life. But now listen. I -said you must go with me. I mean it, and the ride will be -long. As the night is chilly you will need wraps. Promise -me not to attempt to remove this plaster, and I will free -your hands so that you can slip on your clothes. Refuse, and -I take you as you are, in night-dress alone. Quick—decide. -I have no time to waste. If you promise, close your -eyes.”</p> -<p>Fannie read stern determination in her captor’s eyes, and -making the best of affairs, signed her assent as indicated. -Haley laughed.</p> -<p>“Good! I thought that would touch you. Remember—you -may arouse your father, but he will only find your dead -body, and I can escape through the window. Here—now -put them on quickly.”</p> -<p>As he spoke, the villain handed Fannie her garments, and -tremblingly she donned them, though the brute stood over -her with uplifted knife. Haley thrust her shoes into the -pockets of his great-coat.</p> -<p>“They would make too much noise. You can put them -<span class="pb" id="Page_57">57</span> -on when we are safe outside. But wrap a blanket round -you, or you might catch cold in the night air. You see how -very careful I am of your health? Like a father—ha! ha!” -and again his disagreeable chuckle jarred upon her ears.</p> -<p>Scarcely waiting for Fannie to secure her dress, Haley -seized her arms and bound them firmly with the string he had -provided, then served her ankles the same way. On second -thoughts, seeing how trembling and unnerved the maiden appeared, -he resolved to carry her, instead of trusting her to -walk out of the dwelling.</p> -<p>With knife clenched between his teeth, Haley picked the -maiden up in his strong arms and rested her over his shoulder, -her arms pinned beneath her. Then he picked up the -dark-lantern and stepped out upon the landing.</p> -<p>All was still below, save the monotonous ticking of the -clock. The settler slept on, all unconscious of this -deadly blow that was being dealt him.</p> -<p>Opening the slide to throw a faint light before him, Haley -began descending the stairs. Twice he paused and listened -breathlessly as a stair creaked beneath his foot, but fortune -favored him, and he gained the outer door in safety.</p> -<p>While he was undoing bolts and bars, Fannie moved restlessly -upon his shoulder. Clutching her tightly he hissed a horrible -threat in her ear. With a gasping gurgle, she resigned all -hope of being rescued. She dared not give the alarm. She -felt that instant death would follow, and, even in this great -peril, life seemed very sweet to her.</p> -<p>Stepping outside, Haley gently closed the door behind him, -then with a chuckle of fiendish triumph, he glided rapidly -away from the house, toward the stable. Pausing outside, -he deposited the maiden upon the ground, then clutched his -knife firmly.</p> -<p>Only one obstacle now intervened between him and absolute -victory, and he had strong hopes that he might avoid -this. As the settler showed him the horses he wished to dispose -of, Haley noticed a huge dog—an almost full-blooded -mastiff—and learned that to his care was confided the stock -at night. A sight rope held him to his post, but not strong -enough to restrain him should an intruder approach. It was -merely to keep his duty before him.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_58">58</div> -<p>Haley, professing great love for dogs, had fondled and caressed -the mastiff, with this end in view, and now hoped that -he would be allowed to take his own horse without being -molested. As he approached the entrance, a deep, warning -growl told him that the dog was on guard. Softly whistling, -though with ready knife, he stepped within. That the mastiff -recognized him was plain, but he resolutely barred the -way, growling deeply.</p> -<p>A curse gritted through Haley’s teeth, as he saw that only -over the dead body of this faithful custodian could he hope -to secure his horse. Bending down he caressed the dog, then, -like lightning the heavy knife was brought round, sinking to -the very hilt in the dog’s side. A half-stifled snarl and the -huge brute leaped at the man’s throat, bearing him to the -ground like a child.</p> -<p>In this moment Haley showed his desperate courage. Not -a sound escaped his lips, though the great jaws closed upon -his throat. He jerked the knife from its sheath of flesh and -plunged it again and again into the quivering body.</p> -<p>But this was needless. The dog was already dead. His -leap had been merely convulsive, and the jaws barely closed -upon Haley’s throat. The teeth did not raze the skin.</p> -<p>Flinging the body from him, Haley arose and brushed the -blood from his face, then quickly saddled and bridled his -horse. Leading him forth, he once more picked up Fannie, -mounting with the agility of youth.</p> -<p>Even now he did not forget his prudence, but rode slowly -away, readjusting the bushy beard upon his face. Though -late, he might meet with some person and this would aid in -directing the search that he knew would follow with the -morning.</p> -<p>“Now, my dear,” he uttered, as he carefully removed the -plaster from the maiden’s lips, “I do this in pure kindness -of heart, and I hope for your sake that you will not abuse -my confidence. It’s not likely we will meet with any of your -friends, but if we <i>do</i> and you should cry out, that cry will be -your last. You understand?”</p> -<p>“Where are you taking me? Why have you done this? -What have I ever done to you that you treat me so?” faltered -Fannie.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_59">59</div> -<p>“Nothing—but your father has—much. Never mind now. -It will be explained to you in due time. Until then, keep -still. It will be better for you,” was the brutal reply.</p> -<p>Fannie dared not disobey this command, and relapsed into -silence. But with each passing moment her natural self-possession -grew stronger, and she began to take note of the direction -in which she was being taken. Haley made no -attempt to prevent this. He seemed to feel that Fannie was -too entirely in his power to make this knowledge dangerous -to his plans.</p> -<p>Now that she was more herself, the maiden regretted not -having given the alarm, while help was near, and inwardly -resolved that should another opportunity offer, to embrace it -at all hazards.</p> -<p>For over an hour Haley galloped steadily on, and Fannie -felt her heart sink as she realized that they were now far beyond -all habitations of her friends, with nothing but the vast, -almost limitless prairie stretching out before them. Where -was she being taken? What had fate in store for her?</p> -<p>Her eyes were closed, her head drooping in despair, when, -with a low, fierce curse, Mark Haley suddenly drew rein. -With hope thrilling her heart, Fannie eagerly raised her head -and gazed around.</p> -<p>“Utter a whisper and I’ll murder you!” hissed the abductor, -venomously.</p> -<p>Fannie saw the reason he had uttered this caution. Before -them, blocking the very path they had been pursuing, she -could just distinguish the forms of three men. Though their -features were indistinct, the dress bespoke them white men.</p> -<p>She saw in them a last hope. The threats of Mark Haley -were forgotten or disregarded. In a clear, imploring voice -she cried out:</p> -<p>“Help—for the love of God, save me!”</p> -<p>With a snarling curse Haley lifted his clenched fist and -drove it forcibly full between her eyes. With a convulsive -shudder, Fannie’s head drooped and she lay a lifeless weight -upon his arm.</p> -<p>“Hellow! what’s the meanin’ o’ all this, anyhow?” gruffly -demanded one of the three men, stepping forward, his rifle -muzzle in advance. “What ye got thar, mister?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_60">60</div> -<p>“None of your business. Attend to your own affairs and -don’t meddle with mine,” boldly replied Haley.</p> -<p>“Eh? Jes’ lis’en, boys. Don’t he crow loud? Reckon -you don’t know—why, hellow! Is’t you, Cap?” and the -man lowered his weapon, his face expressing great surprise.</p> -<p>“I don’t know you—stand aside or I’ll give you cause to -regret interfering with matters that don’t concern you,” -snarled Haley, his revolver coming to a level.</p> -<p>“You will, eh? Is that the way you treat old pards, Jap -Morton?” and the rifle was quickly raised to a level.</p> -<p>Would the man dare fire? In that dead, uncertain light, -death to the maiden must almost assuredly follow.</p> -<p>“Curse you for a meddling rascal!” hissed Mark Haley, -and his pistol spoke sharp and clear.</p> -<p>Like an echo the rifle responded. Then came a shrill cry—a -heavy groan and dull fall; then more shots, a confused -trampling—then all was still.</p> -<h2 id="c6"><span class="small">CHAPTER VI.</span> -<br />THE LOST TRAIL.</h2> -<p>With the dawn of day, Archibald Hawksley emerged from -the house, and set about his morning duties. Though he noticed -the door was unbarred, he thought Fanny had forgot to -secure it.</p> -<p>But he was not long deceived. As he entered the stable, -a cry of rage and surprise burst from his lips. Before him -lay the stiff and mangled body of his faithful mastiff.</p> -<p>One glance round the interior told him the stranger’s horse -was missing, though all the others were safe. Scarcely knowing -what to think, he rushed toward the house, where he was -met by his wife, pale and agitated.</p> -<p>“Father, where is Fannie?”</p> -<p>Pale and stern, with blazing eyes, the settler dashed up the -stairs and burst open the door of the room assigned to their -late guest. It was empty. The bed had not been pressed -<span class="pb" id="Page_61">61</span> -that night. With a groan of heartfelt despair, he sunk into -a chair. Though he knew not the cause of its being dealt -him, he realized the full force of the blow.</p> -<p>“Father, where is Fannie?” repeated the pale and trembling -wife, creeping to his side.</p> -<p>The voice and soft touch roused the stricken settler. In a -moment he was himself again. With a desperate effort he -regained his usual coolness, and set about the task that lay -before him.</p> -<p>“God only knows, but I will find her. That man—that -devil must have stole her. Fool that I was, to let his lying -tongue so blind me! But he shall pay for it, by my hopes -of heaven! I swear that I will have his heart’s blood for -this!”</p> -<p>“Oh! Fannie—my child, my poor child!” gasped the bereaved -mother, for the first time realizing the full weight of -this new blow.</p> -<p>“Peace, Esther,” coldly added Hawksley, though the unnatural -glitter in his eyes, and the feverish flush upon his face -told how severe must be the effort at composure. “Weeping -and wailing will do no good here. We must <i>work</i>. Do you -go down and send the children round to the neighbors with -the tidings. Bid them come here at once, ready for work. I -will take his trail, and you can send them after me as they -come in. I will leave plenty of signs so that they can easily -overtake me. Be sure and send to Campbell’s for Ned. Go -now—there is no time to lose. I must look first if he left any -clue.”</p> -<p>Mrs. Hawksley, her terror and despair momentarily stilled -by the stern and peremptory words of her husband, hastened -down-stairs to dispatch the children, as directed, for assistance. -Hawksley, cool and collected, began slowly searching -the two chambers, in hope of finding some clue to the real -object of the abductor.</p> -<p>This second blow, following so closely upon the disappearance -of his only grown son, instead of crushing him to the -earth, seemed to call forth all his energies, and to fit him for -the difficult task that lay before him. Nothing was forgotten -or overlooked.</p> -<p>He was disappointed in his search, for nothing was found -<span class="pb" id="Page_62">62</span> -that could assist him in the quest. Then descending the stairs, -he bade his wife fill his saddle-bags with food, his canteen -with strong coffee, while he made ready his horse. Ten minutes -later he was in the saddle, renewing his instructions regarding -his neighbors when they should arrive.</p> -<p>He rode out from the yard, and making a broad circuit, -quickly struck the trail. There could be no mistaking this, -for it lay plainly imprinted upon the dew-moistened ground. -Dismounting, he closely examined each of the four hoof-prints, -registering them indelibly upon his memory.</p> -<p>“I’ll not forget,” he muttered, swinging himself once more -into the saddle. “Large hoofs, shod in front; a triangular -chip broken from the inside edge of the off hind foot. Now -it only remains to follow the trail to its end. Sooner or later -we must meet, and then, Mark Haley—if that be your name—beware! -As God hears me, I will kill you without mercy! -And if—if harm has come to my poor child, I’ll torture you -so that the most devilish red-skin would blush for shame at -his ignorance!”</p> -<p>Bending low in the saddle, Hawksley rode on at a rapid -gallop, his keen eye, sharpened by a knowledge of his child’s -peril, picking up the trail unerringly. Straight as the flight -of a crow, for miles, led the trace.</p> -<p>Hawksley’s brow darkened as he noted this. The abductor -seemed striking for the broad, unsettled prairie. Could it be -that he was one of those fiendish renegades who found a refuge -among the Kiowas? He could think of no other solution -for the abductor taking such a course.</p> -<p>“Never mind—’twill only be the easier to trail him, if he -keeps away from the settled track. Ha! what is that?”</p> -<p>Checking his horse he bent down and picked up a circular -patch of cloth, covered with some sticky substance. A groan -broke from his lips as he divined the use it had been put to. -One mystery was cleared up: that why Fannie had not given -the alarm while being taken from her home.</p> -<p>“Curse him!” hissed Hawksley, hurling the bit of plaster -away. “Curse my blindness in not seeing through his mask. -Poor Fred’s fate should have taught me more caution. But -never mind—my time will come.”</p> -<p>The settler, with flashing eyes and close-set teeth, continued -<span class="pb" id="Page_63">63</span> -his course, picking up the trail with tolerable ease for one so -little versed in the art as he was. He knew, by the position -of the hoof-prints—they being planted one in a place, from -eight to ten feet apart—that at this point Mark Haley had been -advancing rapidly, at a gallop. In trotting, there would be -two hoof-prints close together, one almost obliterated by the -other, or, just the same as made while in a walk, save of -larger stride.</p> -<p>Hawksley, by this fact, could guess pretty closely at the -speed maintained by the abductor, and though he knew that -his own progress was much slower, still he did not despair of -overtaking the man. Doubly loaded, the fugitive must pause -soon, if only to rest his horse.</p> -<p>The sun was two hours high, when a sight met the father’s -eye that caused a cold thrill to pervade his veins. For a -moment he reeled in his saddle, and almost fell to the ground, -but then, with pale face and starting eyeballs, he plunged -spurs deep into his horse’s flanks, and dashed madly forward.</p> -<p>A score or more dark, slowly-circling forms were hovering -over the prairie directly before him, in close proximity to -where the trail must lead, unless it swerved abruptly to one -side or the other. The shadowy shapes were those of vultures, -buzzards, crows—those filthy yet useful scavengers of -the prairies.</p> -<p>They told the experienced settler a significant tale. -They told him that death was before him, along the trail. -That they were collecting round a horrible feast that had -been prepared for them.</p> -<p>In his agony of fear, Hawksley believed that he was about -to behold the dead and mangled remains of his child. Fearing -this, with mad shouts he dashed forward, brandishing -his arms wildly.</p> -<p>The filthy birds heard him and in silence widened their -circles, rising higher and higher, joined by others that rose -heavily from the ground seemingly loth to quit the spot. A -brace of coyotes slunk away, howling lugubriously, with -drooping tail and snarling teeth.</p> -<p>A heart-sickening sight lay before him, as he mechanically -wrenched his horse to a standstill. A groan of agonized -apprehension broke from his pallid lips as he reeled rather -than sprung from his saddle.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_64">64</div> -<p>One glance was all that he could give—then he sunk to -the ground, bowing his head upon his knees, shuddering convulsively, -like one suddenly stricken with a chill. The horrible -truth seemed plain to him—he believed that before him -lay strewn the remains of Fannie, his child.</p> -<p>The greensward was trampled and torn, stained here -and there with crimson blotches that showed where veins -had been drained of their life-blood. Around were scattered -white and gleaming bones, already dismembered and clean-picked -by the teeth of coyotes and beaks of birds. Tattered -and torn, he saw a bright, particolored patchwork quilt that -he knew had covered his daughter’s bed. Further to one -side was a fragment of her dress, also blood-stained.</p> -<p>Hawksley remained thus, bowed down in mute agony, until -the quickly repeating thud of horses’ hoofs approaching -in rapid gallop roused him. Then he clutched his rifle and -glared around, his bloodshot eyes blazing with vengeance.</p> -<p>“Hold! Hawksley—don’t fire—we’re friends,” cried a -loud, clear voice that he recognized through the blind passion -that possessed him.</p> -<p>Slowly he lowered his rifle, passing a hand across his eyes, -as though something obstructed his vision. He did not return -the salutation, nor speak a word as the two young men -rode up, but silently pointed a finger toward the ghastly relics -that strewed the sward.</p> -<p>“My God! what is this?” gasped Ned Campbell, reeling -in his saddle, shrinking back as a horrible fear struck to his -heart.</p> -<p>Zeb Ruel—his companion—did not speak, but dismounted -and slowly approached the spot. Leaning upon his rifle -Hawksley closely watched his movements, a convulsive tremor -agitating his frame as Ruel coolly picked up one of the -gnawed and disfigured skulls, turning it about and viewing -it from different sides.</p> -<p>With a grunt he tossed the fragment aside, then looked -around for the other—as one glance was enough to decide -that at least two persons had met their death at this point. -His actions were vastly different here, for this skull was smaller -and more delicately shaped, such as one would naturally supposed -a woman’s to be.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_65">65</div> -<p>Tremblingly the two men watched their companion. Upon -him their hopes depended. He was by far the most acute -and experienced of the trio, and besides was not so deeply -interested as they. Hence his judgment was the more apt -to be reliable.</p> -<p>Zeb Ruel did not touch this skull. The two watchers -thought he seemed afraid to, and their hearts sunk still -lower.</p> -<p>Whistling softly he strode slowly around the stained and -trampled spot. He examined the blanket, then the fragment -of Fannie’s dress. There were other pieces of cloth, -evidently from garments worn by a man. Several large buttons, -and the texture of the cloth proved that.</p> -<p>Abruptly pausing he poked at some object with the butt -of his rifle. Whatever it was seemed wound round a fragment -of bone. Stooping, he gingerly freed it with his fingers, -then held it aloft, critically eying it.</p> -<p>Campbell and Hawksley both uttered little cries. They -could see that it was a mass of hair, though the dust that covered -it, disguised the color.</p> -<p>Shaking it gently, Ruel examined it closely. A long -whistle, expressive of surprise, broke from his lips.</p> -<p>“What is it, Ruel?” faltered Hawksley.</p> -<p>“See! a skelp—no, by thunder! it’s a false b’ard!” was -the astonished reply.</p> -<p>“Let me see,” and Hawksley snatched the article from -Zeb’s hands. “Yes—it is his! He—Mark Haley wore this, -and I—cursed fool that I am!—I thought it natural! Then -it is true, as I feared—they are both dead! Fannie, my -darling child—oh God!” and sinking to the ground, the stricken -father burst into tears.</p> -<p>“Don’t bother him, Ned,” hastily muttered Ruel, as Campbell -sprung from his horse. “It’ll be the savin’ o’ him—them -tears. He’d go plum crazy else—an’ no wonder, nuther. -First Fred, now the gal.”</p> -<p>“Then you think—” faltered Campbell, chokingly.</p> -<p>“But we don’t <i>know</i>,” was the hasty reply, for Ruel knew -in what relation the young couple stood to each other, and -dreaded the result. “An’ I never give up hope while thar’s -a chance left. She <i>may</i> be rubbed out; I don’t say she isn’t. -<span class="pb" id="Page_66">66</span> -But why—who by? Surely the fellow wasn’t cussed fool -enough to kill her an’ then hisself? You see <i>some one</i> -must ’a’ helped—an’ that’s jest what we must look for now. -You must help—you’re good on the trail—an’ it’ll keep you -from gittin’ as <i>he</i> is. Go that way—I’ll go this. Look cluss -round the aidges o’ the trampled spot. Mebbe we kin find -sunkthin’ to pay us.”</p> -<p>Separating, the two young men crouched low down, carefully -and thoroughly scrutinizing every inch of the ground for -several yards beyond the edge of the torn and trampled spot. -Their search was successful, for at almost the same moment, -a cry announced some discovery.</p> -<p>“What is it, Ned?” muttered Ruel, springing to his friend’s -side.</p> -<p>“Prints of a horse’s hoofs at full gallop. See—they toe -away, and—look! See the blood-spots!”</p> -<p>“Sure enough—plenty, too. But now the question is—was -thar anybody on him? Right here he looks as if he -was runnin’ loose-like. But let that rest fer a bit, an’ come -over an’ look at my find. I want your ’pinion on it. Them -pesky wolves hes ’most blotted it out.”</p> -<p>“It’s the print of a man wearing a boot,” muttered Campbell, -after a close scrutiny. “He is leaving this place—on a -run. See how the toes cut in?”</p> -<p>“Right—but—”</p> -<p>“With boots on, you say?” interrupted Hawksley, who had -risen unobserved.</p> -<p>“Yes, and large ones too.”</p> -<p>“Then <i>he</i> did not make them, for he left his boots at the -house, with his empty saddle-bags.”</p> -<p>“Likely he took moccasins out o’ the bags, so’s to step -easy,” suggested Ruel.</p> -<p>“Hark! some one is coming.”</p> -<p>“Two, rather, from the sound. Yes—see; it’s Fenton an’ -Morley. Jest in time, boys,” he added, as the two men rode -up to the spot. “We want you, with Hawksley here, to take -an’ foller up this trail, while Ned an’ I look to t’other ’ne. -Grupp the feller <i>alive</i>, mind ye. Whoever he is, he kin tell -all what happened here last night. Think you kin foller it, -Morley?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_67">67</div> -<p>“Ef any man kin, I kin,” quietly replied the little, weasen-featured -hunter, throwing his bridle-rein to Fenton.</p> -<p>“If you git him, send up a smoke o’ wet grass. We’ll see -it, an’ we’ll do the same if we git sure news fust.”</p> -<p>But little more was said. Hawksley had by this time entirely -regained his composure, and, though he firmly believed -that his child was dead, he resolved to bear up until he had -drank deeply of revenge. He, together with Fenton and -Morley, set forward upon the trail, the old hunter tracing it -up with the certainty of a blood-hound.</p> -<p>Campbell rode his horse, leading that of Ruel, who preferred -walking at present, though the trail was plain enough -to be followed from the saddle. He was trying to decide -whether the madly-fleeing horse was ridden, or not; a difficult -task at the best, unless by long trailing.</p> -<p>“It’s the crittur that is hurt,” muttered Zeb, after a while, -“an’ that too in the head or neck. ’Ca’se why? You see the -drops o’ blood is mostly scattered in a line, an’ on some o’ -them is scattered dust an’ dirt. Then ag’in, you see them on -the side, cl’ar o’ the trail; see—here’s one. Now thar—thar’s -two on <i>t’other</i> side. He does that by shaking his head. -Ef he was hurt in the side, it’d be one-sided—the blood, I -mean. Hold—stop!”</p> -<p>Campbell abruptly pulled up, and Ruel closely scrutinized -the ground for a minute in silence. Then he arose and leaped -into the saddle. He had decided that the horse was ridden.</p> -<p>“You kin see it from here,” he added, in answer to Ned’s -inquiring looks. “See—it looks like the hoss had stumbled, -then stopped half-way, in a heap. The ground is smooth, he -didn’t stumble because he was growing fainty, for see—thar -go his tracks es reg’lar es ever. Whoever rid him, was in a -powerful hurry. You see he jerked the reins an’ stuck spurs -in the brute so hard that it made him change his step. -That’s what made the blurr thar. Onless the hoss had -been ridden, thar’d jist bin one stumble, then the same clean -step as afore.</p> -<p>“Now look well to your weepons,” he added, as he set forward -at a hard gallop. “Thar’s a man ahead o’ us, an’ he -was mixed up in the scenes back thar. Whoever he is we -must take him; but don’t do no more’n cripple the cuss.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_68">68</div> -<p>“We’re not far from the river, now.”</p> -<p>“No. The varmint is makin’ straight for it. The fool—a -hoss thet hes lost a bushel o’ blood like this ’ne hes, hain’t -got no call tryin’ to cross the ford <i>now</i>. I only hope he -won’t drownd the man, too.”</p> -<p>As Campbell said, they were near the river that was spoken -of in our first chapter, as flowing close to the hunters’ -bivouac. The ford was almost directly opposite the camp, -and the trail was running in a bee-line for it.</p> -<p>“I knowed it—see, the tracks lead down into the water,” -muttered Zeb, his keen eyes searching the further banks. -“Mebbe he crossed, but I reckon he had to swim for it. -Over we go—it’s the quickest way.”</p> -<p>The horses took willingly to the water, and though at one -time they were forced to swim desperately in the raging current, -their strong limbs prevailed and the two hunters were -soon in safety at the other shore. Zeb Ruel leaped into the -shallow water, tossing his reins to Campbell, saying: “Hold -them, Ned. Mebbe I kin tell if he crossed clean over. I -marked his tracks.”</p> -<p>But the soft mud was so deeply cut and scarred by different -hoof-prints that he could not tell with certainty. Then -the two men began closely scrutinizing the ground between -the river and the timber.</p> -<p>For full half an hour they searched without success. It -was evident that the horse had not crossed, and Paul was inclined -to believe that the rider had been swept off into the -deep water below, when, hampered by his wounded steed, his -death would almost inevitably follow.</p> -<p>“Ha! look yonder!” cried Campbell, directing his companion’s -attention over the river to a tall column of dense black -smoke.</p> -<p>“It’s the boys—they’ve found somethin’ on the other trail. -We’d better go back.”</p> -<p>As he uttered these words, the tall hunter suddenly paused, -and bent his ear to the ground for a moment. Then rising -he glided swiftly toward the arch-like opening between the -two timber islands; reaching this he beckoned vehemently -for Campbell to follow.</p> -<p>“Look yonder!” he hissed, grasping Ned’s arm with convulsive -<span class="pb" id="Page_69">69</span> -force, his other hand outstretched toward the open -prairie.</p> -<p>“The woman—that strange rider—the one that decoyed -Fred Hawksley from us!” gasped Campbell, in wonderment.</p> -<p>“It’s her—shure! Kin you take her? Your critter’s fresh. -Ketch her an’ you kin tell whar Fred’s gone to.”</p> -<p>“I’ll do it or kill my horse. Stand aside, Ruel,” excitedly -muttered Campbell.</p> -<p>“Easy—she’s comin’ closter. Look to your girth—see that -it don’t fail ye now. Ef you cain’t do better, drop ’ither her -or her critter. Ha! she has caught sight o’ you. Durn it! -why didn’t we hide closter!”</p> -<p>It was true. Upon a ridge scarcely a mile distant was the -strange woman, riding the spotted mustang that had served -her so well when Fred Hawksley was in pursuit. The sun -shining clearly, had outlined the two hunters clearly against -the open background, and she had evidently caught sight of -them, for she drew rein, gazing in their direction with one -hand shading her eyes.</p> -<p>As Campbell leaped upon his big bay horse, she wheeled -the mustang and dashed back over the swell like an arrow. -Touching his mettled horse, fairly warmed to his work by the -morning’s ride, Ned sped swiftly over the rolling prairie, almost -in the same tracks that he had made a week before, when -pursuing the same creature. Would this chase end as disastrously? -His brow darkened and his teeth gritted fiercely as -he resolved to give the race a different termination.</p> -<p>A fierce joy filled the young ranger’s heart as the woman -rider again appeared in sight, for he could see that already -he had lessened the interval between them. Both animals -evidently were fresh, and it was to be a test of their superiority—a -war of races.</p> -<p>As they topped the next swell, Campbell’s face changed, -He it was that was losing ground now. The spotted mustang -stretched out like a grayhound, was running with the speed -and evenness of an arrow’s flight. Bending forward, the -strange rider seemed urging him on at top speed.</p> -<p>Campbell’s spurs dripped well with blood, and his voice -added its persuasion, but in vain. Slowly, surely the spotted -mustang was drawing away from the big horse.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_70">70</div> -<p>Campbell uttered a furious curse as he noted this, but then -a gleam lighted up his countenance. The fugitive was heading -directly for the timber point where he had lost sight of -her and Fred Hawksley, a week previously.</p> -<p>Now, should she disappear as strangely as then, he would -know that she was concealed somewhere in the <i>baranca</i>, and -it would go hard but that he unearthed the mystery. With -these thoughts, Ned urged his beast forward, at its best pace.</p> -<p>As the woman neared the timber point, she turned her -head and glanced back over her shoulder. Campbell almost -fancied that he could detect her scornful, taunting laugh as -she waved a hand toward him, then bending forward, disappeared -around the clump of trees.</p> -<p>“Now I will know—if she <i>is</i> gone, then I have her foul. -I’ll solve the mystery of Fred’s disappearance, and that too -before this day’s sun sets!” he muttered, as his spurs rankled -the big horse’s sides.</p> -<p>In a few moments he also rounded the point of trees, and -abruptly pulled up his horse, with a low cry. As he suspected, -the prairie was open and untenanted. The strange rider had -disappeared.</p> -<p>But then as he glanced downward at the tracks of the spotted -mustang, Campbell saw that they turned abruptly to the -right, running close to the underbrush, instead of heading for -the <i>baranca</i>. For a moment the young hunter was disconcerted.</p> -<h2 id="c7"><span class="small">CHAPTER VII.</span> -<br />ON GUARD.</h2> -<p>Ned Campbell sat his horse with an air of irresolution. -For a moment he appeared at a loss what course to pursue.</p> -<p>He glanced quickly around him. The black column of -smoke had disappeared. Evidently Zeb Ruel had regained -the other party.</p> -<p>Ned was in a quandary whether to hasten to join them, to -search for Fannie, or to follow up the faint clue that lay before -<span class="pb" id="Page_71">71</span> -him, which might lead to the discovery of his lost friend -and almost brother, Fred Hawksley. With an effort he decided.</p> -<p>“It is what Fannie would wish, did she know it,” he muttered, -as he shook the reins free. “There are better eyes -than mine at work over yonder, and I could do no particular -good. She would tell me to hunt for poor Fred.”</p> -<p>Campbell was following the trail of the spotted mustang, -bending low in his saddle, for the ground was rapidly becoming -more hard as he advanced, and the small hoofs had not -cut deeply into the turf. Though keen-eyed, the young hunter -soon found that he must dismount, or run the risk of losing -the trail altogether.</p> -<p>Like a well-trained dog, the big bay horse followed him at -a little distance. Step by step Ned picked up the trail, that -gradually grew fainter and more indistinct.</p> -<p>Its course led along nearly equidistant from the <i>motte</i> and -the <i>baranca</i>, yet heading so that, if maintained, the <i>baranca</i> -would be headed. Yet Ned knew that this could not have -been done, in the short time that he was hidden from view. -He knew that the trail either entered the wood or else the <i>baranca</i>.</p> -<p>If the former, he must find it; if the latter, a few minutes’ -delay would matter little, as the rider could not possibly leave -it without his knowledge, for both ends were within his range -of vision. Reasoning thus, Campbell kept on for over half a -mile, more than once losing the trail, only to find it again the -next moment.</p> -<p>But now he lost it altogether. A strip of flinty ground led -from the <i>baranca</i> clear to the timber’s edge. At the edge of -this strip, all traces ended.</p> -<p>One glance decided this, and then Campbell skirted the -further side, until at the underbrush. He saw that a horse -could not have forced a passage into the timber without -leaving unmistakable traces of so doing. A grim smile lighted -up his countenance. He knew now that the <i>baranca</i> contained -his quarry.</p> -<p>“So much settled,” he muttered, triumphantly. “I don’t -think the time is lost, for now I will have only one side to -watch. Come, Miss, madam, whichever you may be. I -<span class="pb" id="Page_72">72</span> -think you will find it harder to pull the wool over my eyes -now than last week. It’s you and I for it now, and the -smartest brain wins.”</p> -<p>Signing for his horse to follow him, Campbell looked to -his rifle, and glided toward the edge of the <i>baranca</i>. He -paused upon the edge, and while closely scrutinizing much -of its bottom as possible from his position, he meditated -deeply.</p> -<p>“It’s plain,” he muttered, finally, “she took the piebald -with her, else I must have seen its tracks. There are places -where a horse can be concealed down there, but not many. -Now shall I go down and hunt her out? No—were it only -for myself, I would, and take the chances of her picking me -off with that rifle of hers. But then! Fred. I won’t lose -the game now by carelessness or foolishness. She must -come out some time. I can stand it as long as she can. But -first, for a good stand. Ha! I have it—the pile of rocks. -She must be this side of that, for a goat could scarcely clamber -over it. That will do. Then I’ll only have one way -to look.”</p> -<p>Ned only hesitated for a moment, then narrowly examined -the side of the <i>baranca</i>. As another proof that his suspicions -were well founded, he soon discovered a path, narrow and -steep, yet amply wide enough to permit a sure-footed horse -to ascend or descend without much difficulty, leading down -to the bottom of the ravine. His keen eye could detect the -signs of hoofs having pressed its surface, though how recently -could only be surmised.</p> -<p>“It leads in the right direction, too—that is, toward the -pile of rocks. Somewhere near that I believe lies the secret. -If so, the game’s mine.”</p> -<p>The young hunter had decided upon his course. Craft -and cunning must be his aid now. The stakes played for -were far too important to be lost by a rash or premature -move.</p> -<p>Motioning his horse to remain stationary, Ned hastened -to the timber and soon secured several small leafy branches, -and a handful of dried grass. Holding these, he glided cautiously -along the escarpment, his eyes closely scanning every -foot of the bottom.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_73">73</div> -<p>He neared the rocky barricade without discovering any -thing that could possibly afford concealment for a horse, and -then crouching down, he narrowly examined the pile. It -will be remembered that he, in company with the other young -hunters, had searched the <i>opposite</i> side of the barricade, on -the night Fred Hawksley disappeared.</p> -<p>Campbell saw numerous crevices and small cavities, but -none nearly large enough to admit the passage of a horse, -yet, knowing that upon this point rested his last chance, he -set about his work. First he started the big horse out, a -few yards from the escarpment, beyond sight from the ravine, -yet so that a single leap would carry him ready to mount. -Then with strips cut from his hunting-shirt, he carefully -bound the twigs and dried grass upon his head and shoulders, -in such a manner that his vision was unobstructed, while concealing -his form. This arranged to his satisfaction, he lay -down upon the ground, with eyes riveted upon the rocky pile, -his weapons ready for use.</p> -<p>Ned was a true hunter. More than once he had lain in -wait for game almost without stirring a muscle, for half a day. -And now this quality stood him in good stead; only this time -his game was human.</p> -<p>For two hours he lay motionless, patiently watching, only -shifting his gaze occasionally up the <i>baranca</i>, to make sure -that his quarry was not escaping him in that direction. As -he cautiously turned his head toward the barricade, after one of -these glances, a glow of light filled his eyes, and he started -convulsively.</p> -<p>He saw that his surmises were well founded. Before him -stood the woman—the strange rider whom he firmly believed -to be a decoy for some deep and subtle purpose.</p> -<p>Campbell could plainly distinguish her features, together -with the upper portion of her form as she stood behind a -bowlder, her face uplifted toward his position. Even in that -brief glance he was forcibly impressed with her beauty.</p> -<p>He had time but for the one glance, for then the vision -disappeared like magic. How, was plain. He could still -see the dark niche that her form had filled, and he knew that -this must be the entrance to some underground retreat that -had, most probably, been washed out by the surgings of the -<span class="pb" id="Page_74">74</span> -water that frequently filled the <i>baranca</i> to its brim, in the -rainy seasons.</p> -<p>His resolution was taken in a moment. He forgot his -usual prudence, in the thought that the solution of his friend’s -strange disappearance lay within his grasp. He did not give -a thought to the danger he might be running, nor of the -force he might encounter in his search for the strange woman.</p> -<p>“Run to earth at last!” he muttered as he looked to the -caps of his revolvers. “You shall not escape me this time. -I’ll know where Fred is if I have to force the words from -your lips.”</p> -<p>Campbell critically scanned the side of the <i>baranca</i> beneath -him. It was precipitous, and yet he did not like to -lose the time for going up to the path. So lowering himself -by the hands, he dropped lightly to the rocky ground beneath, -accomplishing the feat in safety.</p> -<p>Drawing a revolver, he cautiously moved the rocky pile, -his eyes riveted upon the opening in which he had beheld the -strange woman. As he peered into the dark hole, for the -first time a doubt as to the prudence of his course struck him, -and he hesitated, in doubt whether it would not be wise to -signal to his friends, knowing that the smoke column would -quickly bring some of them to his side.</p> -<p>Better for him had he followed this plan, but with the -game so close at hand, he could not bring himself to wait. -Perhaps, after all, she was alone.</p> -<p>Forcing himself to believe this, Campbell placed a hand -upon the bowlder, and lightly vaulted into the crevice. All -before him seemed dark and black, and he paused for a moment -to accustom his eyes to the change.</p> -<p>At that juncture a slight rustling sound met his ear, and -quick as thought, he threw forward his left arm, at the same -time raising his pistol. The action was purely instinctive, for -he could see nothing, but it probably saved his life.</p> -<p>A crushing blow from some unseen weapon fell upon his -fore-arm, hurling it helpless to his side, then all was a blank. -The same blow had fallen, though with broken force, full upon -his forehead, felling him senseless to the rocks.</p> -<p>The sight of this strange woman had set Campbell’s brain -<span class="pb" id="Page_75">75</span> -on fire, and he acted without the slightest precaution or forethought. -Had he but reflected for a moment, he must have -known that she had noticed him, recognizing the presence of -an enemy, even through the disguising grass and twigs. What -else could have caused her sudden retreat? But Ned was -too greatly excited to notice this, and he suffered the consequences.</p> -<p>How long he remained insensible he never knew, but it -must have been for some time, for, when he awoke, a scene -something similar to that which met the wounded outlaw’s -astonished gaze greeted his vision. The experience of the -two men had been almost exactly similar. Both had narrowly -escaped death at the hands of the same being—the old -man, Albert Mestayer.</p> -<p>But Ned was more fortunate, in that he found his hurts -carefully dressed. This was the first point that he noticed -on returning to consciousness. The next was, that a thong -or cord of some kind held his feet firmly to the rude but -comfortable pallet upon which he lay.</p> -<p>“Father, he has awakened,” uttered a low, soft voice from -close to his head, and Campbell heard a faint rustle there.</p> -<p>The voice thrilled through his brain like liquid music. -Never before had he heard tones so sweet or melodious. In -wonder at it, he forgot his hurts, his perilous situation—every -thing but the voice.</p> -<p>A light step echoed through the rock-bound chamber, and -a tall form came and stood over him, with folded arms, gazing -down upon his countenance with vividly-glowing eyes. -It was the man who had called himself Albert Mestayer, but -Ned could not remember having ever met him before.</p> -<p>“You are right, Lola. Go, now. I wish to be alone with -this man for a time.”</p> -<p>A light, graceful form glided past him and paused within -range of Campbell’s vision, her eyes resting softly upon his -face. A light of pity seemed to beam from their liquid depths -as she uttered:</p> -<p>“You will not—not harm him, father?”</p> -<p>“Go—it is not your place to question me. You forget -yourself, child,” sternly replied Mestayer, his brow contracting.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_76">76</div> -<p>With another glance at the bewildered hunter, Lola disappeared -from view. Then the eyes of the two men met fully, -and Campbell read in those of the tall man a depth of hatred -that for a moment chilled his blood. But then his courage -returned, and he was once more himself, cool and collected.</p> -<p>“Well, sir, will you tell me what this treatment means, if, -as I suppose, you are the one who struck me in the dark?”</p> -<p>“And may I ask why you were prowling round my home -with drawn revolver?” retorted Mestayer.</p> -<p>“I was seeking for a friend, and had reason to believe that -he was detained here by force,” boldly added Campbell, closely -eying the old man; but the sneering smile didn’t change in -the least.</p> -<p>“Who do you allude to?”</p> -<p>“Fred Hawksley. He followed your—that woman here, -a week ago, and has not been seen or heard of since.”</p> -<p>“How do you know that he came here?”</p> -<p>“I was with the party that followed him and her. We -saw by the trail that he came here.”</p> -<p>“I thought as much. Well, there is no need of keeping -the truth from you, for I don’t think you will ever betray me—for -a very good reason. He did come here—in much the -same manner that you did. But he is not here now,” and -the old man laughed diabolically.</p> -<p>“You did not murder him?” faltered Campbell.</p> -<p>“Never mind. You had far better be thinking of your -own self. It may be beyond your power to do so ere long.”</p> -<p>“Threatened men live long. But tell me: <i>where is Fannie -Hawksley</i>?” suddenly added the young hunter.</p> -<p>This random shaft told. Mestayer started and seemed confused. -Campbell saw that his sudden suspicion was correct.</p> -<p>“How did you find—what do you know about that? -But bah! I’m a fool. It’s only guess-work. You are nobody’s -fool, my friend. I give you credit for that. But first—before -I answer you, what is she to you that you take such -an interest in her?”</p> -<p>“She is my promised wife.”</p> -<p>“<i>Was</i>, you mean. I am glad to see that I was not misinformed. -Prepare yourself, my poor friend, for some affecting -news,” he added, mockingly. “Your true love is no -<span class="pb" id="Page_77">77</span> -more. However, you have one consolation. You will not -be long separated from her.”</p> -<p>“Bah! I know you are lying—I can see it in your eyes,” -scornfully retorted the young hunter.</p> -<p>Mestayer started and his face flushed darkly, his eyes blazing -with anger. His clenched fist uprose as if to deal a crushing -blow upon the pale but undaunted face of the hunter, when -a lithe form sprung forward and caught his arm. It was -Lola.</p> -<p>“Father—think what you do! Strike a bound and helpless -man—for shame!”</p> -<p>With an effort that seemed wondrous in a man so old, he -hurled the maiden across the chamber, with a bitter curse.</p> -<p>For a moment Campbell thought he meant to slay her, but -then with an effort, Mestayer calmed his passion, saying in a -stern tone:</p> -<p>“Go, now, and see that you keep your station. No more -eavesdropping, or it will be the worse for you. Stay—I forgot. -Remain here and keep guard over this man, until I return. -It is time James was going.”</p> -<p>Lola returned and sunk down beside the couch where lay -the young hunter. His gaze followed her motions and then -their eyes met; but only for a moment. Then Lola’s eyes -drooped, a burning blush suffusing her rich complexion. -Very different was her appearance then from what it had -been when confronting James Mestayer, under somewhat similar -circumstances.</p> -<p>In point of fact she was in greater peril at that moment -than Campbell himself. The face of the handsome hunter -had made a deep impression upon her heart, and for the first -time in her life, Lola began to realize the meaning of the -term, <i>love</i>.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_78">78</div> -<h2 id="c8"><span class="small">CHAPTER VIII.</span> -<br />AT BAY.</h2> -<p>When he left Ned Campbell, Albert Mestayer entered the -first chamber or cell, where we a week previously to this date, -found him bending over the wounded leader of the Night -Hawks. Here that worthy, now recognized as a nephew of -the old man, was idly lolling upon a pallet of skins, his -wounds almost entirely cured.</p> -<p>He raised himself to a sitting posture as the old man entered, -casting at him a quick, inquiring glance. Evidently -the doughty leader of the Night Hawks regarded his newly-found -relative with considerable respect.</p> -<p>“Well?” he added, as the old man approached.</p> -<p>“It <i>is</i> well, so far, but we must work to keep it so. This -young fellow tracked us home, and his are not the sharpest -eyes on the border. Hawksley is out with the settlers. They -may find this place at any hour, and then, though I could -make a good fight first, my revenge would be cut short by -death. You know my reasons for acting thus, because I have -told you my story. Well, the time has come for you to play -your part. I need your help now, because I can not leave -Lola here alone. Are you ready to keep your oath?”</p> -<p>“Yes. Tell me what I am to do, and I will not fail for -lack of trying,” was the prompt reply.</p> -<p>“Good! I like to hear men answer like that. But now -listen. You remember what I told you about the Kiowa -chief, Chigilli?”</p> -<p>“Yes.”</p> -<p>“Well, you must go from here, to him, as speedily as possible. -Tell him that the time has come when he can strike -the blow. Tell him that his white father asks the aid of his -strong arm. Or stay—I can do better than that. See—Chigilli -gave this to me. It is his totem; this border is made -from sacred wampum. Give this to him and bid him follow -<span class="pb" id="Page_79">79</span> -you. Lead him and his band here. When you come I will -have all in readiness for the blow. You shall have Mary -Colton—though she is one of the accursed, I spare her life, -because I know that as <i>your</i> slave, her life will be worse than -death.”</p> -<p>“You are complimentary,” muttered the outlaw, in a -slightly bitter tone.</p> -<p>“I speak the truth. But let that pass. You must go now. -You have not forgotten any of my instructions? You remember -the rendezvous?”</p> -<p>“I forget nothing. But how am I to go? On your -horse?”</p> -<p>“No. I may have use for him. But our young friend -left his horse staked out upon the prairie above. Take it—that -will be the easiest way to dispose of it, to keep it from -telling troublesome tales. Ride out from the <i>baranca</i> until -you strike ground that will take and hold a trail, then round -the head of the ravine. After that do not spare the brute. -Horse-flesh is cheap, and Chigilli will furnish you with a remount.”</p> -<p>“But why—”</p> -<p>“For this reason. If this Ned Campbell is missed—which -of course will be the case—search will be made for him. -His horse’s trail will be struck here. As it leads, so will they -follow, and play into our hands by meeting you half-way. -In that case, you know what to do. The Kiowas are eager -for scalps. Let them take all they can—only tell Chigilli -that he must bring me Hawksley a <i>prisoner</i>. You understand?”</p> -<p>“Yes.”</p> -<p>“Good. Now go and ride for life. By nightfall you can -reach the rendezvous—by day-dawn you should be well on -your road back here.”</p> -<p>But few more words were spoken, and James Mestayer left -the strange retreat, and, after first cautiously scouring the surrounding -prairie, dragged himself over the escarpment. After -some little trouble, he secured the suspicious horse, and literally -obeying the old man’s instructions, soon rounded the -<i>baranca’s</i> head, then galloping swiftly away toward the west.</p> -<p>Hour after hour throughout that long day, he urged on the -<span class="pb" id="Page_80">80</span> -big horse, plying the spurs heavily and mercilessly, with only -a few brief intervals for breathing his steed. Nowhere in the -world are such reckless riders as in the Texan prairies, or -among the cattle-districts of Kansas. Nowhere is so little regard -paid to the life of a horse.</p> -<p>I know of one instance where a young man, naturally generous, -affectionate and kind-hearted, on a two days’ trip rode -three ponies until they dropped dead under the saddle. And -this with no more urgent cause than that he was eager to meet -with his relatives after a nine months’ sojourn herding cattle -in lower Kansas. In forty hours—two days and one night—he -rode three hundred and seventy-odd miles.</p> -<p>As the sun set, Mestayer caught sight of the hill-range in -which he knew the Kiowa chief was awaiting a message from -the old man, his “white father.” With bloody heel he urged -on the heavily-laboring horse, though the blood-stained froth -that dropped in flakes from its mouth, told plainly that the -creature’s race was well-nigh run.</p> -<p>While yet the western sky was flecked with crimson, the -end came, finding Mestayer prepared for it. Well knowing -the symptoms, he was ready for the fall, and when the big bay -fell forward heavily, the blood bursting from his nostrils, -Mestayer alighted nimbly upon his feet, and without a second -glance at the poor brute, he started forward with long, swinging -strides that spoke well for his powers as a pedestrian.</p> -<p>The dark, broken hill-range was near, and at a glance the -outlaw recognized the landmarks given him by his uncle, and -he knew that his course had been shaped aright. Raising a -hand to his mouth, he uttered a long-drawn, vibrating cry—the -shrill view-hallo of the Kiowas. A few moments later there -came to his ears a similar cry, only more perfectly modulated, -and then a single horseman rode forth from a rocky defile -that partially intersected the hills.</p> -<p>Despite his assurance that Chigilli was friendly, Mestayer -twitched his revolver around more convenient to his hand, -loosening it in the sheath. More than once he had experienced -the treacherous nature of Indians, and the Kiowas were -notorious for their proficiency in that respect.</p> -<p>The savage drew rein close beside the outlaw, and a brief -but keen scrutiny followed, as though each was mentally measuring -<span class="pb" id="Page_81">81</span> -the other. Mestayer was somewhat surprised at the -appearance of Chigilli. Naturally, one takes it for granted -that a famous warrior must be an important person in looks -as well as reality. Instead, the Kiowa chief was small—almost -a dwarf, in fact; of slight, ill-shaped figure, old and -wrinkled, with only one eye. But that burned brightly, and -the numerous scars, together with the broad saber-slash that -had destroyed his left eye, together with a portion of his nose, -testified plainly that he had borne his part in more than one -desperate affray.</p> -<p>“Who are you that sounds the Kiowa cry, yet wear the -skin of a pale-face?” demanded Chigilli, in slightly accented -English, his half-breed mother having taught him her father’s -tongue.</p> -<p>For answer Mestayer produced the slip of wampum-enriched -deer-skin, and handed it to the chief. Chigilli’s stern countenance -instantly relaxed, and he henceforth treated the outlaw -with the greatest deference and courtesy. Mestayer -quickly made known the purport of his visit, and delivered, -word for word, his uncle’s message.</p> -<p>Chigilli seemed a little vexed, but soon explained the cause. -While waiting for the message from his white father, which -was longer in coming than he had expected, his band had become -separated, by far the larger portion being then in pursuit -of a drove of buffaloes that had passed by on the run, the -day before. Fearing to lose such an opportunity for securing -a supply of meat for his lodges in winter, he had dispatched -all but twenty of his men after the herd.</p> -<p>Mestayer was positive. There must be no delay; such as -could not be avoided were they to send a runner to recall the -hunters. He must return at once, whether Chigilli kept his -pledge or not.</p> -<p>This decided the chief, and half an hour later he led the -twenty warriors out from the rocky defile. Behind him, -upon the broad, smooth surface of a rock, were depicted sundry -rude signs and symbols, drawn with a finger-point covered -with dampened powder. These were directions for the guidance -of the buffalo-hunters, bidding them hasten after.</p> -<p>Mestayer found that he would not be able to regain the -<i>baranca</i> retreat by daybreak, for the east was showing light -<span class="pb" id="Page_82">82</span> -streaks when there remained still a dozen or more miles to be -covered. Then came an interruption, before another mile -was traversed.</p> -<p>Events had occurred much as the old man, Albert Mestayer, -had foreseen. Zeb Ruel had rejoined the other party of trail-hunters, -informing them of where and how he had left Ned -Campbell. In due course of time the young man was missed, -searched for, and the trail found. They followed it after the -outlaws had taken it up, round the <i>baranca</i>, and out into the -prairie. As night fell they went into camp, when they were -joined by others of the settlers who had turned out to take -part in the hunt.</p> -<p>It may be as well to state here the cause of the smoke-signal -having been made. Following the trail of the men on -foot, the party had been considerably delayed by Hawksley’s -having a fit of apoplexy, in consequence of his deep emotions. -As soon as his senses returned, he urged them to lose no time, -but to keep on the trail, and when his strength returned, he -would follow on after them. They did so, the trail ending -at last in their finding the senseless body of a white man, -whom they naturally took to be the abductor of Fannie. For -this reason they sent up the smoke. Noticing the signal, -Hawksley managed to mount his horse and ride to the spot. -His disappointment at seeing a stranger was great, and brought -on another and more severe fit. While it lasted, and while -the attention of all was directed toward him, the outlaw -breathed his last. This was the state of affairs when Zeb -Ruel came in and told his story. After some discussion, it -was decided to go back and take up Ned Campbell’s trail, in -hopes that, should he capture the strange rider, the mystery -might be elucidated.</p> -<p>This party it was that now confronted the Kiowas, under -guidance of the ex-captain of Night Hawks. Mestayer was by -no means pleased at the meeting, for he saw that the settlers -were nearly equal in numbers to the Kiowas, and he also -knew that they were much better armed, each man bearing a -rifle and at least one revolver, more generally two of these -terrible weapons.</p> -<p>As the Kiowas were nominally at peace with the whites, a -collision might and probably would have been avoided, only -<span class="pb" id="Page_83">83</span> -for one thing. Jack Colton was among the trail-hunters, and -he recognized the would-be murderer of his brother.</p> -<p>With a wild cry he plunged spurs rowel-deep into his horse’s -flanks and sprung forward, leveling his rifle as he did so. -It cracked—one of the savages riding close behind Mestayer, -uttered a shrill death-yell, and fell to the ground, dead.</p> -<p>That put an end to all doubt. Sounding his war-cry, Chigilli -led the charge, and the next moment the two bodies -were mingled together. For several minutes the conflict raged -with deadly ferocity, but the superior weapons of the settlers -quickly turned the tide in their favor.</p> -<p>Jack Colton had singled out the outlaw guide, and nothing -loth, Mestayer gratified his desire, though still feeling the -effects of his wounds. Their horses came violently together -just as their pistols spoke for the first time.</p> -<p>Rearing, Colton’s horse received the bullet between its eyes -and fell, hurling Colton violently to the ground, where he -lay, stunned for the moment. Mestayer discharged a second -shot at him, but with unsteady aim, and a slight flesh wound -was the only result; then he was forced to turn his attention -to other foemen.</p> -<p>Chigilli gave the signal to retreat, seeing that he was over-matched. -The hills were near at hand, and for them their -horses’ heads were turned, in full flight.</p> -<p>So sudden was this movement that the settlers did not -comprehend its meaning until the Kiowas had gained full -two-score yards the start. But then they dashed on in hot -pursuit.</p> -<p>No man living understands better how to extract every -ounce of service from a mustang than does a Kiowa, and -though riding by far the most jaded horses, they slowly increased -their vantage-ground, aided by the fact that the settlers -devoted much of their care to pistol practice; at best but -an uncertain art while riding a galloping horse.</p> -<p>They realized their error and strove to remedy it, but too -late. The Kiowas had gained too many yards to be overtaken, -and the cunning Chigilli well knew what he was about. He -was rushing for a point from which his force could easily hold -the settlers in check, or at least inflict fearful slaughter in case -they should try a desperate charge first.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_84">84</div> -<p>Zeb Ruel divined their purpose first, and kept the settlers -from going too far. He knew a plan worth two of that, and -as the Kiowas disappeared in a narrow, defile-like cleft, the -settlers drew rein.</p> -<p>“Quick—Fenton, you an’ Morley come ’th me,” he cried, -eagerly. “Rest o’ you stay here an’ keep the imps back ef -they try to run out. We’ll fix ’em—hurry.”</p> -<p>As he spoke he turned his horse’s head to one side and -dashed rapidly up to the hill’s base, here steep and rugged. -Though not exactly comprehending his purpose, the two men -designated by name followed him without hesitation.</p> -<p>Dismounting they clambered rapidly up the hill, soon gaining -the top. An exultant shout broke from Ruel’s lips as he -saw that he was in time. If indeed the Kiowas contemplated -escape by such means, they would find their path a gantlet of -death.</p> -<p>The defile alluded to ended in a steep hill, up which a -horse could climb, though with difficulty. This once surmounted, -a broad, gentle slope led down to the prairie beyond. -Ruel’s position commanded this ascent, and was within easy -pistol range.</p> -<p>“Good! we’ve got ’em in a hole, now!” he chuckled, breathing -hard with fatigue. “We kin make things hot for ’em, I -reckon!”</p> -<p>But, though he suspected it not, he was even then, in a -measure, being outwitted. Chigilli had no intention of fleeing -further. With his men dismounted and well covered, he -felt able to beat back the settlers should they attack him, until -help should arrive, and not a score seconds before Ruel -reached his station, a Kiowa crossed the ridge, sent to hurry -up the other band!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_85">85</div> -<h2 id="c9"><span class="small">CHAPTER IX.</span> -<br />A STRANGE PROPOSAL.</h2> -<p>The hours dragged by drearily enough with Ned Campbell, -though for a part of the time he had the beautiful Lola -for a guard. But after the first flush of surprise, Ned gave -her little attention. His mind was filled with thoughts of his -lost love, Fannie Hawksley, whom the old man, his captor, -declared was dead. Though the young hunter tried to believe -this a falsehood, his success was only partial. At times -he would believe that Fannie was indeed dead—murdered—and -in the agony of his soul he would groan aloud, almost -praying for death that he might be reunited to her, in spirit -if not in life.</p> -<p>Campbell was aroused from one of these fits of gloomy -despondency by a low, taunting laugh sounding from close -beside him, and hastily glancing up, he perceived that the old -man had taken Lola’s position. The almost diabolical expression -of triumph that rested upon his face, startled the young -hunter, and he resolved to give his enemy no more such gleeful -moments.</p> -<p>“Who are you that my misery should give you so much -pleasure?” he demanded, with ill-concealed curiosity.</p> -<p>“I promised to tell you—and this is as good a time as any -to keep my word,” slowly replied the old man, sinking down -upon the rude stool that had been so recently occupied by a -much more agreeable figure. “You may or you may not remember -something of the matter, when I tell you that my -name is Albert Mestayer.”</p> -<p>As he spoke, his gaze was riveted firmly upon the young -man’s countenance. Though expressing curiosity, there was -no change to indicate that Campbell had ever heard of the -name before.</p> -<p>“I see you do not know—I might have known that they -would never have told you. It is well. You will not be so -prejudiced, and will be more likely to do me justice. Now -<span class="pb" id="Page_86">86</span> -listen well, and you will see why I hate your family and that -of Hawksley.</p> -<p>“We three were close neighbors living then in the southern -part of Illinois. Almost from childhood we had been play-mates -and bosom friends. And such we might have remained -to this day, only for the treachery of one—of Christopher -Hawksley, the brother of Archibald.</p> -<p>“We three men married, but he—Chris—was single. -Though living with his brother, he was quite as much at -home while at your father’s house, or at mine. Indeed the -gossips began to whisper that he was more so, and to point -the finger of scorn at me.</p> -<p>“For a time I closed my ears to these rumors, but at my -heart there gnawed a horrible fear that what I dreaded was -but too well founded. He and she had long been intimate, -and at one time were reported betrothed, but then a coldness -came between them, and she accepted me. You see, young -man, I am frank with you,” and Mestayer smiled bitterly. -“I mean to tell you all—both for and against myself.</p> -<p>“I spoke to her of the rumors, but she was of a quick, -passionate temper, and for the first time since marriage we -had hot and angry words together. She refused to answer -me, saying that I insulted her by the suspicion. While still -angry, I met Christopher Hawksley and forbid him ever entering -my house, or addressing my wife at any time or place -where they might chance to meet.</p> -<p>“He seemed surprised—I thought then that he looked -guilty, and I could scarcely keep my hands from his throat. -But I did, and went home with a heart still more bitter and -wicked.</p> -<p>“Three days after this, as I returned from the field somewhat -earlier than usual, I saw Hawksley parting from my -wife at the door. They seemed frightened and confused at -my appearance, and I dare say they had cause.</p> -<p>“The next I remember is finding myself standing over his -quivering and senseless body, my hands covered with blood, -my wife crying for me to have mercy—not to stain my soul -with murder. I had not killed because I had no weapons -with me, I suppose. But I had beaten him almost to death -with my naked fists.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_87">87</div> -<p>“Well, the word soon spread that I had brutally murdered -the man, and the excitement was great. Hawksley was one -of those general favorites, half-fool, half-rogue, who spent -his money with a lavish hand, making friends with everybody, -while I, naturally reserved, had become morose and -unsociable since these sickening rumors began to meet my -ear. So you see it took very little to get up a hue and cry -against me.</p> -<p>“Arch. Hawksley came and removed his brother. That -night, though the doctors pronounced Chris. in no immediate -danger, a mob, led by those who had once been my dearest -friends—<i>your</i> father and Arch. Hawksley—came and took -me from my bed, dragging me out-doors amid curses and -threats, some even beating me with clubs and their fists as I -was hauled helplessly along over the rough ground, half naked, -only in my night-clothes.</p> -<p>“Well, you can guess the rest. The favorite punishment -of western mobs, when they do not wish to <i>quite</i> murder, was -given me. I was tarred and feathered! And for what? -I have told you. You can judge whether I deserved it or not. -And, mind you, <i>your</i> father and Archibald Hawksley were -the leaders in the movement. By <i>their</i> orders the others -acted. Do you wonder that I promised never to forgive -them?</p> -<p>“After this, they set me free. Half mad I plunged into -the swampy woods, where I lay until morning. By that time -I had in a manner regained my coolness, and had decided -upon my course of action. I knew that I had one true -friend near me, and to his hut I hastened. This was a middle-aged -negro. I had won him from his master half a -dozen years before, on a Mississippi steamboat, playing cards. -It was the planter’s last stake, and I could not refuse. When -I gave Sam his choice, he elected to go with me. At the -end of my trip I gave him his freedom, and he now lived on -a piece of my land.</p> -<p>“He removed the tar, and tenderly nursed me through a -long and severe illness, brought on by exposure and excitement. -During all this he had kept my existence a secret, -and all believed that I had thrown myself in the river to hide -my shame. Sam also kept close watch upon my house, and -<span class="pb" id="Page_88">88</span> -when he considered me strong enough, he told me what he -had learned.</p> -<p>“My wife took my death very easily, it seemed. Chris. -Hawksley had been seen visiting her. That was enough. -I swore then that I would have a deep and bitter revenge—that -I would devote my entire life to that end.</p> -<p>“Sam was true to me, body and soul. What I said was -law. He aided me in my scheme, by procuring me weapons, -clothes and such articles as I needed. Then I watched my -chance. It soon came.</p> -<p>“Sam brought me the word. Christopher Hawksley was -at my house. I hastened there, cool and calm as I am now, -though I had resolved that they both should die that night.</p> -<p>“I kept my oath. They were together in my wife’s room. -They never left it alive. I shot him, and entered the room. -The woman who had been my wife, fell upon her knees and -begged for mercy, swearing that she was innocent. But I -knew that she lied. I had seen too much.</p> -<p>“I raised my hand and struck her. She fell forward -bathed in blood. I did not know that I had a knife in my -hand, until I saw that.</p> -<p>“His death only inspired me with a ferocious joy. I -gloried in my act of vengeance. But when I saw her lying -there, gasping out her life, I changed. I had loved her so -tenderly and true, until she fell from me. I had idolized her -almost. And yet—I had killed her!”</p> -<p>The old man choked and paused. Campbell, pale and horror-stricken, -did not speak. Then Mestayer, with an effort, -resumed, his head bowed upon his hands, his voice sounding -like that of one talking in a dream.</p> -<p>“How long I remained there I do not know, but it must -have been for hours. The alarm was given by some one -who had heard the shot and investigated it. The neighbors -came and found me sitting there, <i>her</i> head upon my breast, her -form clasped tight to my heart. Despite this they knew that I -was the murderer. My revolver lay there, with one chamber -discharged, as the blue gas around the tube showed, recently. -My knife—with initials carved upon the horn handle—was -beside me, covered with blood.</p> -<p>“They say that I acted like a madman when they tried to remove -<span class="pb" id="Page_89">89</span> -her body. But numbers prevailed, and I was bound. -The next I remember I was in the county jail, tried and condemned -to death. But trusty Sam didn’t fail me.</p> -<p>“He set me free—I have not patience now to tell all that -he had to do, but he was at work for three nights before I -was set free. Then, just as I mounted the horse he had -brought for my use, we were discovered. Sam struck the -horse a heavy blow that maddened it, and I was saved, though -I tried to turn and aid him.</p> -<p>“Yes, he—the simple, unlearned negro—he saved me, at -the cost of his own life. He was shot, but he kept the -guards engaged until I was beyond their reach. Thus I lost -my only friend.</p> -<p>“I had only one thing to live for—<i>revenge</i>. I swore to -devote my life to that one end—and I have not yet forgotten -my oath. For a time I kept in hiding, but then I set to -work. <i>You</i> are the first one that knows for a certainty how -your father died. <i>I</i> shot him.”</p> -<p>Campbell uttered a hoarse cry, and strove to arise, his eyes -blazing with horror and vengeance. But the strong cords -restrained his fury.</p> -<p>“And why—what had he done to you?”</p> -<p>“I have told you. Besides, I swore that I would destroy -the entire race of the Hawksleys and Campbells. Boy, my -wife was your father’s sister.”</p> -<p>Campbell listened in astonishment. Until now he had believed -his father had been an only child. But there was -something in the old man’s tones that told him he was speaking -the truth.</p> -<p>“I am telling you the truth, though you seem to doubt it. -But that matters little. I need only tell you a little more. -After I killed your father, I had to hide again. I fled to -New Orleans. While there, I met a Spanish creole and married -her. Had she lived, I might have reformed, for I loved -her with all my hot, fiery nature. But she died, leaving me -one babe—you have seen her here—Lola.</p> -<p>“For a time I lived in retirement, caring only for my -child, teaching her, as she grew older, to hate all mankind -but her father. I succeeded, as I thought. Then I left her -at school, and set forth to strike another blow. I found my -<span class="pb" id="Page_90">90</span> -enemies gone, they had removed, and I feared to inquire of -those who could have told me where, lest I should be recognized.</p> -<p>“For years I hunted you—you and the Hawksleys. I did -not find you until this spring. By chance I found this retreat, -and fitted it up for use. Then I brought Lola here. -You remember the excitement that she caused, as the strange -rider—a better name would have been <i>decoy</i>, for that was her -duty. I first gained her good views of those I hated—just -how does not matter now.</p> -<p>“Her first success was in luring Fred Hawksley here. Then -I stole away his sister—your betrothed, as you say. <i>You</i> -came next. After you will come your sister Mary Colton. -Then the rest of the Hawksleys. Before forty-eight hours -roll by, all of those included in my vow of vengeance will be -dead—<i>dead</i>, do you hear?” hissed Westmayer, in a low, malignant -tone of voice.</p> -<p>“But Fannie—you have not—”</p> -<p>“It matters little to <i>you</i> whether she be dead or not. If -not, she will be, soon. So will you. But I need the fresh -air. I leave you to think of what I have told you, and to -compose your mind for what is to come. If you sleep, pleasant -dreams—ha! ha!” and laughing malignantly, the monomaniac -left the chamber.</p> -<p>The conflicting emotions that racked Campbell’s mind on -hearing this strange disclosure, can scarcely be imagined—most -certainly not described. Besides clearing up the mystery -that had enshrouded his father’s murder, it also revealed to -him the full peril that threatened his own as well as the lives -of his friends.</p> -<p>So deeply buried was he in thought that he did not hear -the soft footfall nor the faint rustle as Lola seated herself -beside him. Her large, dark eyes were filled with a gentle -light foreign to her fiery, passionate nature, and her cheek -glowed with the swift flow of blood.</p> -<p>As Campbell, aroused by that strange consciousness one -feels when being fixedly gazed upon, raised his eyes, his face -darkened with a frown. In a harsh tone he uttered:</p> -<p>“Well, I am waiting—proceed. Of course you come here -to tell me some frightful story of how I have wronged you, -<span class="pb" id="Page_91">91</span> -possibly through my great-grandchildren, or something of -that sort, and that you have sworn deadly vengeance against -me and mine. Proceed—but for pity’s sake, cut it short.”</p> -<p>“You wrong me, Mr. Campbell,” and Lola’s voice sounded -low and soft. “I am no enemy of yours—I would be your -friend, if you would permit.”</p> -<p>“My friend—and <i>his</i> daughter?”</p> -<p>“I often think that I am <i>not</i> his daughter—that he is mad—a -monomaniac, who does not know what he does or says. I -overheard what he told you, for I feared that he meant to -kill you, and I resolved to prevent that, if it cost my own -life. It is the same story, almost word for word, that he has -told me scores of times. But—whether that is true or not—I -am not your enemy, since seeing you. Before, I hated you, -because he taught me to do so. He made me believe that all -men were evil, treacherous beings, but—I don’t think <i>you</i> are,” -and Lola drooped her eyes before the steady gaze of the young -hunter.</p> -<p>“What is your object in telling me this?” he asked, -slowly.</p> -<p>“To prove to you that I am a friend, not an enemy, as -you seemed to regard me.”</p> -<p>“<i>Will</i> you prove this? You can, if you wish. Will you -do it?” added Campbell, with ill-suppressed eagerness.</p> -<p>“How can I?” softly, with a quick glance at him.</p> -<p>“Easily. Unloosen these cords, restore my weapons, and -I will believe that you are a true, earnest friend.”</p> -<p>“So that you might kill my father?”</p> -<p>“No. I would not harm him unless he first attacked me. -Then I would defend myself.”</p> -<p>“He would kill me!”</p> -<p>“With me you would be safe. I will take you to any -point you wish, or, if you would rather, my mother will welcome -you to her home.”</p> -<p>Their gaze met, but only for a moment, then the eyes of -the strange girl sunk, and a low sigh fluttered her lips. The -face of the young hunter, though open and earnest, had not -told her the tale she wished and hoped to hear.</p> -<p>“You asked my father about your friends. He gave you -to understand that they were dead. One of them still lives.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_92">92</div> -<p>“What—Fannie—” eagerly began Ned, his dark eyes -gleaming.</p> -<p>“No—the young man,” and Lola’s face turned a shade -paler.</p> -<p>“Merciful God!” groaned Campbell, quivering with intense -heart-agony.</p> -<p>“Then it is true, as you told father—you loved this girl?”</p> -<p>“Better than my life! And now—but no—you are only -trying me,” he added, looking up imploringly. “Tell me she -is still living?”</p> -<p>“Why should I lie to you? She is dead—but her blood -is not on his hands. He fought to save her, but one of the -men shot her, as he was bringing her here. The other—your -friend, still lives, though badly wounded. Could I believe in -your gratitude, I would set both yourself and him free.”</p> -<p>“You crush all my hopes, then taunt me with freedom—I -have nothing to live for now,” bitterly replied Ned.</p> -<p>“Your mother?”</p> -<p>“True, I forgot for a moment. Well, speak plain. What -pledge do you require? What do you wish me to do?” he -added, wearily.</p> -<p>“Make me a solemn promise—pledge me your honor as a -gentleman to make me your—your wife, and I will free you -both.”</p> -<p>“What!”</p> -<p>“Let me finish. I know that my words seem strange, -unlady-like, if you will, but consider what my past life has -been. And yet, I have only obeyed my father. I have never -sinned of my own free will. He thinks me all ice, but I can -love, I <i>do</i> love; I have loved with all my soul ever since you -came here. Now you know my heart. To win your love I -am willing to disown father—all else.”</p> -<p>“I have no love to give you. It was all <i>hers</i>—my poor, -lost Fannie’s,” muttered Ned, yet strongly affected by the passionate, -yet pleading tones of the strange girl.</p> -<p>“You will in time—I do not ask nor expect it all at once. -I will love you so tenderly and wholly that you <i>must</i> return -it, in time.”</p> -<p>“If you loved me as you say, you would free me and trust -to my gratitude for your reward.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_93">93</div> -<p>“And thus lose you forever? No—no! I would rather, -far rather kill you here, then take my own life, than to run -that risk,” cried Lola, her eyes flaming.</p> -<p>A strong temptation was upon him. Why not dissimulate,—or -even give a positive pledge, if by these means he could -gain freedom?</p> -<p>“Wait—I must think of this a little. I can not answer -you now,” he said, at length.</p> -<p>“You must be quick, for there’s no time to lose. Father -will soon return. And he is looking for his messenger, sent -to bring a band of savages here. They intend attacking the -settlements, when your mother, sister, and the Hawksley family -will be captured. Decide quickly, and you may be in -time to save them.”</p> -<h2 id="c10"><span class="small">CHAPTER X.</span> -<br />THE CLEW.</h2> -<p>Though Chigilli, the Kiowa chief, had acted so promptly -in dispatching a runner for reinforcements, that fact was -likely to avail him little, for the movements of the settlers -were prompt and decided. The outlaw, James Mestayer, was -the cause of this.</p> -<p>First, Jack Colton had recognized him, and now, recovered -from the effects of his fall, was eager to attack them. Then -Archibald Hawksley, in the confused struggle, believed that -in him he saw the abductor of his daughter.</p> -<p>Though it was Albert Mestayer who performed that deed, -his disguise had made him look like a much younger man, -and there was a family resemblance between the uncle and -nephew, so that Hawksley’s mistake was natural.</p> -<p>A plan of attack, bold and daring, was quickly arranged.</p> -<p>“Jack Colton, you will take one-half of the men, and I’ll -lead the others,” hurriedly commanded Hawksley. “You go -to the right and gain the foot of the hill. Then when I give -the signal, close in. But remember, the white man must be -taken <i>alive</i>.”</p> -<p>Separating, the two parties rode up to the hill base, then -dismounting, drew their revolvers, ready for work. At the -<span class="pb" id="Page_94">94</span> -signal they glided rapidly along, and soon reached the defile -before a shot was fired.</p> -<p>Then ensued a scene of frightful confusion. It was not -a fight that can be drawn in words, for each man fought on -his own hook, singling out his foe with eyes for naught else.</p> -<p>Though brief, it was bloody in the extreme. For a few -moments the Kiowas fought bravely, but then the rapid detonation -of the white men’s revolvers proved too much for -their courage, and the survivors fled up the hollow, only to -encounter another foe.</p> -<p>Zeb Ruel and his two companions, Fenton and Morley, being -out of sight of their comrades below, knew nothing of -their movements until the sound of firearms, together with -vengeful shouts and shrill cries, announced the commencement -of the struggle. Divining the truth, they began descending -the ridge side, in order to assist their comrades.</p> -<p>Though too late to take part in the struggle proper, the -fleeing red-skins ran headlong against their weapons. Three -rifle-cracks, and only two Kiowas remained, standing bewildered -by this new and unexpected danger. Then, amidst a -storm of revolver bullets, they tried to scale the steep hill, but -ere half-way to its top, the last Kiowa flung aloft his arms, -and rolled back to the base, dead.</p> -<p>Mestayer had fought bravely, but his time had come. Both -Colton and Hawksley assailed him. Colton fell, with a bullet -through his breast, but before the outlaw could do more, -Hawksley was upon him.</p> -<p>In the desperate struggle that ensued, his wounds aided in -giving the settler the victory, and ere the last reports echoed -from up the valley, Mestayer was securely bound, a prisoner.</p> -<p>“Who is’t ye’ve got, Hawksley?” cried Zeb Ruel, coming -up at this moment. “Hellow, Jap Morton, as I’m a sinner!”</p> -<p>“The man that carried off Fannie, I believe,” but the settler -hesitated as he now for the first time took a good square -look at his captive.</p> -<p>“I never stole her—I know nothing about the matter,” -sullenly replied Mestayer, his eyes drooping.</p> -<p>“You lie, villain!” snarled Hawksley, springing upon the -prostrate figure. “Tell me—tell me quick, or I’ll choke the -vile life out of your carcass!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_95">95</div> -<p>“Easy—easy, neighbor,” quoth Ruel, as he dragged the -infuriated settler from his victim. “A feller cain’t easy speak -when his thrapple is shet tight in a vise. Leave the or’nery -cuss to me. I’ll bring him round, I reckon. D’ y’ hear, Jap -Morton?—best tell me what ye know.”</p> -<p>“I’ll tell you all I know. It’s not much, but it’ll show -you that I had no hand in the matter. An old man named -Albert Mestayer, in disguise, deceived you and stole your -daughter.”</p> -<p>“You’re lying now!”</p> -<p>“I’m not—it’s the truth. You may not believe it, for the -report was spread long ago that he was dead. Have you forgotten -the man who killed your brother, Christopher Hawksley?”</p> -<p>The settler staggered back as though dealt a deadly blow. -He had not recognized the name at first, so many years had -passed by since those dark days. Seeing his agitation, Ruel -took up the examination.</p> -<p>“What’d he steal her fer?”</p> -<p>“Revenge. Hawksley knows for what.”</p> -<p>“I do—go on,” faintly muttered the settler.</p> -<p>“He was met, on his return, by three men—part of those -who—who burned Colton’s house. They, in the dim light, -thought it was me, and they believed that I had betrayed -them in that matter. There was a fight, in which the old -man shot two, when the other made off. His horse had been -hurt, and so was the girl. She was shot in the side. If you -followed his trail, you must have lost it in the river. He rode -there, and seeing that his horse was nearly dead, he shot him -and sent it floating down-stream, to cover his trail. Then he -waded up-stream, finally reaching his retreat.”</p> -<p>“Where is that?”</p> -<p>“In the <i>baranca</i> that cuts through the ten-mile prairie. -In the east side is concealed a good-sized cave. He lives -there.”</p> -<p>“And the gal?” asked Ruel, in answer to a sign from the -agitated father.</p> -<p>“I don’t know whether she is living or not. Mestayer told -me that she was fatally wounded.”</p> -<p>“A durned lie—don’t yer b’lieve him, neighbor,” splurted -<span class="pb" id="Page_96">96</span> -Ruel, as Hawksley sunk to the ground with a bitter groan. -“Now, what of Fred Hawksley? An’ who is that gal that -he rid a’ter?”</p> -<p>“Mestayer’s daughter. He is hidden there, but he is crazy. -The old man hit him on the head with a club, and injured his -brain.”</p> -<p>“Ask him about Ned,” suggested Fenton.</p> -<p>“If you mean Ned Campbell, he’s there, too,” quickly replied -Mestayer.</p> -<p>“Ge-long to thunderation! A hull nestfull—any more?” -spluttered Ruel, amazed.</p> -<p>“No,” then adding, quickly. “Now I have told you all, -you will set me free?”</p> -<p>“Not much—sca’cely. How d’ we know but it’s all a -pesky lie, jist hatched up as you went along? No, sir; your -part o’ the barg’in don’t end ontel a’ter you show us this wonderful -hole in the ground, an’ we see how matters railly -stan’.”</p> -<p>“Come,” said Hawksley, in a strained, unnaturally still -voice, “we are losing time here; let us be riding.”</p> -<p>“Co-rect. Git yer horses, boys. I’ll ketch one fer this -chap. He’s got to show us the hole, or I’ll know the why.”</p> -<p>Mestayer was mounted upon one of the spare horses, and -tied firmly to the saddle. Ruel rode beside him, while Hawksley -led the way at a rapid rate.</p> -<p>The ten miles were soon covered, and the party found themselves -at the <i>baranca</i>. Dismounting, they silently approached -the spot indicated by Mestayer.</p> -<h2 id="c11"><span class="small">CHAPTER XI.</span> -<br />A DOUBLE SURPRISE.</h2> -<p>For a time Ned Campbell remained silent, deep-buried in -thought. The temptation was strong, and he was slowly -yielding to it.</p> -<p>Lola watched him closely, and as her keen eye, sharpened -by love the most intense and passionate, read the quick -changes of his handsome countenance, her heart beat high -<span class="pb" id="Page_97">97</span> -with hope that he was about to consent. The inward conflict -sickened her, and she staggered like one drunken, as she rose, -muttering, in a husky, unnatural voice:</p> -<p>“Think well over it, but decide quickly. There is no time -to lose, if you would be saved. I must seek the fresh air—I -am choking!”</p> -<p>Campbell watched her until her form disappeared, then his -eyes drooped, and he tried to think connectedly over what he -had heard both from father and from daughter.</p> -<p>It did not take him long to decide. Though he felt that -he could never bring himself to love, or even respect as a -friend, the child of the man who had boasted that his hands -were stained with blood—and together with other, the blood -of the young man’s father, he resolved to accept her terms in -seeming, until he was free.</p> -<p>The thought of his mother’s peril brought him to this decision. -He could not let her be murdered, when a simple -falsehood would save her.</p> -<p>He had scarcely arrived at this determination when Lola -hastily entered, her countenance flushed, her eyes glowing.</p> -<p>“Quick! your answer—my father is coming!” she hurriedly -uttered, reaching his side.</p> -<p>“I consent—provided you assist me in freeing Fred, also.”</p> -<p>“I will—you shall never regret your choice, if my love -can repay you. But now—there’s his step. Pretend to sleep, -as he may suspect something,” she hastily added, as with -burning lips she gently touched his forehead.</p> -<p>Though strongly agitated, Campbell managed to quiet his -nerves in seeming, and as Mestayer entered, his suspicious -glance saw only a sleeping captive and a drowsy sentinel, her -head bowed upon her breast. It was evident that he had -met or seen something that greatly excited him, and pleasingly, -too, for a triumphant glow irradiated his face, and his -dark eyes sparkled with strange brilliancy.</p> -<p>“Lola, you may go now and lie down. You must be -sleepy.”</p> -<p>Lola arose and retired, though with reluctance. She seemed -ill at ease, and to suspect danger to the one she had so -suddenly given her heart, in the ill-suppressed excitement of -the old man. One hand sought the pistol at her waist, and -<span class="pb" id="Page_98">98</span> -she crouched down in the passage, listening intently, ready -to interfere should her fears prove well founded.</p> -<p>Mestayer touched Campbell lightly upon the shoulder, -then laughed aloud at the air of well dissimulated surprise -worn by his face as the young man opened his eyes with a -start.</p> -<p>“A change in your watcher, you see, and I suppose you -think a disagreeable one. You sleep sound, young man. -That is a blessing, if you only think so. But that reminds -me—I have something to tell you concerning your friends.”</p> -<p>“Who—what?” stammered Ned, really surprised.</p> -<p>“Of Hawksley, Ruel and the others who were with you -when you were hunting for the girl. They have apparently -become alarmed at your long absence, and have been trailing -you.”</p> -<p>“If so, I don’t see why <i>you</i> should laugh.”</p> -<p>“Because you don’t know all. You remember where -you left your horse? Well, I sent a friend—one whom you -may have known as Jasper Morton—I sent him <i>on your -horse</i> to hasten up my friends. <i>Now</i> do you see? They—<i>your</i> -friends, have traced your trail out several miles beyond -this, and are camping there, intending to follow on in -the morning. <i>Now</i> do you see why I laugh?”</p> -<p>“No.”</p> -<p>“Bah! you are dull—very stupid. Well then, I am -sworn brother to Chigilli, the Kiowa chief. He is waiting -for me to send him word when all is in readiness for him to -strike a blow at the settlement. My nephew is to bring -them on—seventy-five strong. He has my instructions to follow -back his trail—and to kill or capture all who may be -upon it. This is why I laughed. I have just been scouting -round them, so close that I could have picked off any one of -their number, had that been my wish. But I have a different -fate in store for Hawksley—the rest I care not for. -Now then, you have something more to ponder over. You -should thank me for keeping your mind from rusting—but I -have long since ceased to look for gratitude from those of my -race. Ha! ha!”</p> -<p>Campbell did not reply, and the old man sunk into a reverie -that lasted for hours. At length he was aroused by -<span class="pb" id="Page_99">99</span> -Lola, who told him that day was dawning. The old man -arose and emerged from the chamber, while after a quiet -greeting to Ned, Lola busied herself with preparations for -the morning meal.</p> -<p>For an hour after sunrise, Mestayer watched at the edge of -the <i>baranca</i>, yet so close to the den that Lola could not put -her resolve of freeing Campbell into execution, without the -certainty of a deadly collision between him and her father, -an extremity that she could not as yet bring herself to brave. -But she regretted not having done so, when Mestayer reappeared -and bade her bring forth her pony.</p> -<p>As she reluctantly obeyed, Campbell saw that the horses -were kept concealed in an apartment of the cave. Mestayer -spoke decisively, and Lola dared not disobey.</p> -<p>“You will ride out along the trail that I told you of, and -see if you can see any thing of our friends. Do not go beyond -the creek, but wait there, if needs be, for half an hour. -If you do not see them then, hasten back.”</p> -<p>Lola emerged from the <i>baranca</i> and dashed away over the -prairie with lightning speed. Mestayer resumed his position -as look-out, his eyes eagerly following the swiftly flying figure -of his daughter.</p> -<p>Campbell had read aright the quick glance thrown at him -by Lola. She feared that she could not effect his release until -too late. His heart sunk within him, and he closed his -eyes in deep and troubled reflection.</p> -<p>However, he was to be aroused ere long. A low, faint -rustle came from beyond, and then a figure appeared at the -angle behind which Campbell had frequently observed Mestayer -disappear.</p> -<p>A face that bore an excited yet troubled look; pale and -worn, yet very beautiful. The large, wild-looking eyes rested -upon the form of the young hunter as he lay upon the couch, -and the lips parted, the arms outstretched, as, with a low -cry, the figure glided forward.</p> -<p>In amazement Campbell raised his eyes. Then a low, glad -cry broke from his lips as he recognized in the figure that of -his dearly beloved one, Fannie Hawksley. He tried to outstretch -his arms, but the attempt recalled his situation.</p> -<p>“Ned—thank God! I am in time!” gasped the maiden, -<span class="pb" id="Page_100">100</span> -dropping upon her knees beside the pallet. “Think what I -must have suffered. I have heard every thing that was said -here. I heard the lies they told you, and had no power to -deny then, for I was bound hand and foot and gagged.”</p> -<p>As she spoke, Fannie with trembling fingers strove to release -her lover, but the hard-knotted cords resisted her efforts.</p> -<p>“Fannie, my poor darling, you can do no good without a -knife. There must be some lying in the outer room—those -we used for breakfast. You will not be afraid to look?”</p> -<p>“Not when it is for you,” she bravely returned, and gliding -through the passage, she quickly secured what she sought, -together with a brace of pistols that she had snatched from -the table.</p> -<p>“My precious darling!” murmured Campbell, as the cords -yielded to the keen weapon, and springing to his feet he -clasped Fannie to his wildly throbbing heart; but fortunately -she was the more composed of the two.</p> -<p>“Take the pistols, Ned. You may need them. Now—we -have no time to lose. Come—you must help me set Fred -free. He is kept a prisoner in here, too. Hasten—”</p> -<p>“Too late! Back, Fannie—get behind me,” hastily muttered -Campbell, as the echo of a quick step came to their ears -from the outer chamber.</p> -<p>A simultaneous cry followed the appearance of the figure, -and Campbell’s pistol muzzle slightly fell as he saw it covered -the heart of the strange girl, Lola Mestayer.</p> -<p>“You free?” she cried, in amazement; “but come—there’s -no time to lose. You must meet my father, but it is the only -chance. The Indians are coming up like the wind. You -can hide in—my God! who is that?” she abruptly added, for -the first time observing the shrinking figure of Fannie.</p> -<p>“My promised wife—the one you so falsely swore was -dead,” sternly replied Campbell.</p> -<p>“It was for love of you that I lied—but I will make my -words good!” hissed the maddened girl, as her bright pistol -was leveled toward Fannie.</p> -<p>The report followed swiftly, but the low exclamation that -broke the air came not from the maiden’s lips. Campbell had -sprung before his love, himself receiving the bullet. His left -arm swung helpless at his side.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_101">101</div> -<p>“Forgive me—oh, forgive me!” cried Lola, as she observed -the effect of her mad act. “I would rather that bullet had -pierced my heart than to harm <i>you</i>!”</p> -<p>A hoarse cry came echoing from without. The three inmates -of the chamber experienced a thrill as they divined its -purport. Mestayer had heard the confusion, and was coming -to investigate it.</p> -<p>Two clicks sounded through the chamber. Campbell -cocked his pistols. So did Lola. The eyes of all were turned -toward the entrance. They had not long to wait, for the -next moment Mestayer burst into the chamber, his eyes ablaze, -his hand clutching a revolver.</p> -<p>“What is this—who set you free?” he cried, hoarsely, as -he noticed Campbell standing erect, pale but defiant. “Ha! -<i>you</i> did—traitress!” and his pistol covered Lola’s heart.</p> -<p>“No—I did it,” tremblingly cried Fannie, as she saw the -peril of one innocent.</p> -<p>“You too!” for the first time noticing the maiden. “Fortunately -I am prepared for it. Now, sir,” he added, in a cold, -deadly tone. “Drop your pistol, or I shoot you down like a -dog.”</p> -<p>“Two can play at that game. Stand aside and let us -pass,” uttered Campbell, as with a rapid motion he raised his -pistol to a level.</p> -<p>“Bah! If I should, what better would you be by it? My -friends are by this time at the <i>baranca</i>. They would stop you -if I did not.”</p> -<p>“Father, let them go free. Those coming without are <i>their</i> -friends, not yours. They are white men—the settlers who -were on his trail,” and Lola glided forward.</p> -<p>“Traitress! but I’ll not be balked entirely—I’ll strike one -blow before I die!”</p> -<p>His pistol spoke, and the bullet claimed a victim. But not -the one at whose life he had aimed. Lola sprung forward, -shielding with her body the life of the man whom she so -madly loved.</p> -<p>With a groan of agony she sunk down upon the blood-sprinkled -floor, her young life going out as she gasped a name—the -name of him she had saved from death.</p> -<p>With a howl of fury, Campbell fired twice in quick succession, -<span class="pb" id="Page_102">102</span> -but the last shot was superfluous. The murderer of his -father was dead—shot through the brain.</p> -<p>Staggering back against the wall, faint and weak, Campbell -cocked his pistol. From without there came loud, excited -cries, and he had not understood the speech of Lola. He believed -them also enemies. But then as he recognized the -foremost, Archibald Hawksley and Zeb Ruel, he muttered a -thanksgiving and fainted.</p> -<p>But little more need be added, for the meeting and little -explanations may be left to the reader’s imagination. Fred -Hawksley was found, bound and gagged, but unhurt save -from the blow given him by Mestayer when the strange decoy -had lured him to the den. In a week he was as well as ever.</p> -<p>Campbell had only fainted from loss of blood, and was -soon restored. The wound Fannie had received in the fight -on the prairie was slight, and already nearly healed.</p> -<p>As the party left the cave, it was found that James Mestayer -had disappeared, but two days afterward he was found. -Fearing death he had urged his horse to break its fastenings, -though he himself was still firmly bound. In the mad gallop -that ensued, his saddle turned, and he, falling beneath the -mustang’s belly, had met his death.</p> -<p>The Kiowas, awed by the death of their chief, quietly retreated -to their hunting-grounds, and the threatened Indian -war blew over.</p> -<p>Of course Ned and Fannie were married, now that Fred -was found, and equally of course, Zeb Ruel and the rest of -the young hunters were gay and welcome guests.</p> -<p>Albert Mestayer and his ill-fated daughter, Lola, were interred -in one grave upon the banks of the <i>baranca</i>. But -their strange story did not die for many a year, and is still -occasionally alluded to, in that section.</p> -<p class="tbcenter"><span class="smaller">THE END.</span></p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_104">104</div> -<h2 id="c12"><span class="small"><span class="smallest">THE ILLUMINATED DIME</span></span> -<br /><span class="xxlarge">POCKET NOVELS!</span></h2> -<p class="center"><b>PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY.</b></p> -<p>Comprising the best works only of the most popular living writers in the field -of American Romance. Each issue a complete novel, with illuminated cover, -rivaling in effect the popular chromo, yet sold at the standard price, <span class="sc">TEN CENTS</span>.</p> -<p class="center"><span class="ss">NOW READY, AND IN PRESS.</span></p> -<div class="verse"> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 1</b>—<b>Hawkeye Harry, the Young Trapper Ranger.</b> By Oll Coomes.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 2</b>—<b>Dead Shot</b>; or, The White Vulture. By Albert W. Aiken.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 3</b>—<b>The Boy Miners</b>; or, The Enchanted Island. By Edward S. Ellis.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 4</b>—<b>Blue Dick</b>; or, The Yellow Chief’s Vengeance. By Capt. Mayne Reid.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 5</b>—<b>Nat Wolfe</b>; or, The Gold-Hunters. By Mrs. M. V. Victor.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 6</b>—<b>The White Tracker</b>; or, The Panther of the Plains. By Edward S. Ellis.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 7</b>—<b>The Outlaw’s Wife</b>; or, The Valley Ranche. By Mrs. Ann S. Stephens.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 8</b>—<b>The Tall Trapper</b>; or, The Flower of the Blackfeet. By Albert W. Aiken.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 9</b>—<b>Lightning Jo, the Terror of the Santa Fe Trail.</b> By Capt. Adams.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 10</b>—<b>The Island Pirate.</b> A Tale of the Mississippi. By Captain Mayne Reid.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 11</b>—<b>The Boy Ranger</b>; or, The Heiress of the Golden Horn. By Oll Coomes.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 12</b>—<b>Bess, the Trapper.</b> A Tale of the Far South-west. By Edward S. Ellis.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 13</b>—<b>The French Spy</b>; or, The Fall of Montreal. By W. J. Hamilton.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 14</b>—<b>Long Shot</b>; or, The Dwarf Guide. By Capt. Comstock.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 15</b>—<b>The Gunmaker of the Border.</b> By James L. Bowen.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 16</b>—<b>Red Hand</b>; or, The Channel Scourge. By A. G. Piper.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 17</b>—<b>Ben, the Trapper</b>; or, The Mountain Demon. By Maj. Lewis W. Carson.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 18</b>—<b>Wild Raven, the Ranger</b>; or, The Missing Guide. By Oll Coomes.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 19</b>—<b>The Specter Chief</b>; or, The Indian’s Revenge. By Seelin Robins.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 20</b>—<b>The B’ar-Killer</b>; or, The Long Trail. By Capt. Comstock.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 21</b>—<b>Wild Nat</b>; or, The Cedar Swamp Brigade. By Wm. R. Eyster.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 22</b>—<b>Indian Jo, the Guide.</b> By Lewis W. Carson.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 23</b>—<b>Old Kent, the Ranger.</b> By Edward S. Ellis.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 24</b>—<b>The One-Eyed Trapper.</b> By Capt. Comstock.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 25</b>—<b>Godbold, the Spy.</b> A Tale of Arnold’s Treason. By N. C. Iron.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 26</b>—<b>The Black Ship.</b> By John S. Warner.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 27</b>—<b>Single Eye, the Scourge.</b> By Warren St. John.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 28</b>—<b>Indian Jim.</b> A Tale of the Minnesota Massacre. By Edward S. Ellis.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 29</b>—<b>The Scout.</b> By Warren St. John.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 30</b>—<b>Eagle Eye.</b> By W. J. Hamilton.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 31</b>—<b>The Mystic Canoe.</b> A Romance of a Hundred Years Ago. By Edward S. Ellis.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 32</b>—<b>The Golden Harpoon</b>; or, Lost Among the Floes. By Roger Starbuck.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 33</b>—<b>The Scalp King.</b> By Lieut. Ned Hunter.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 34</b>—<b>Old Lute, the Indian-fighter</b>; or, The Den in the Hills. By E. W. Archer.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 35</b>—<b>Rainbolt, the Ranger</b>; or, The Demon of the Mountain. By Oll Coomes.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 36</b>—<b>The Boy Pioneer.</b> By Edward S. Ellis.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 37</b>—<b>Carson, the Guide</b>; or, the Perils of the Frontier. By Lieut. J. H. Randolph.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 38</b>—<b>The Heart Eater</b>; or, The Prophet of the Hollow Hill. By Harry Hazard.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 39</b>—<b>Wetzel, the Scout</b>; or, The Captives of the Wilderness. By Boynton Belknap.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 40</b>—<b>The Huge Hunter</b>; or, The Steam Man of the Prairies. By Ed. S. Ellis.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 41</b>—<b>Wild Nat, the Trapper.</b> By Paul Prescott.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 42</b>—<b>Lynx-cap</b>; or, The Sioux Track. By Paul Bibbs.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 43</b>—<b>The White Outlaw</b>; or, The Bandit Brigand. By Harry Hazard.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 44</b>—<b>The Dog Trailer.</b> By Frederick Dewey.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 45</b>—<b>The Elk King.</b> By Capt. Chas. Howard.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 46</b>—<b>Adrian, the Pilot.</b> By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 47</b>—<b>The Man-hunter.</b> By Maro O. Rolfe.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 48</b>—<b>The Phantom Tracker.</b> By Frederick Dewey.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 49</b>—<b>Moccasin Bill.</b> By Paul Bibbs.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 50</b>—<b>The Wolf Queen.</b> By Captain Charles Howard.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 51</b>—<b>Tom Hawk, the Trailer.</b> By Lewis Jay Swift.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 52</b>—<b>The Mad Chief.</b> By Captain Chas. Howard.</p> -<p class="t0"><b>No. 53</b>—<b>The Black Wolf.</b> By Edwin E. 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