The young rough rider's handicap, or, Fighting the Mormon kidnapers [sic]

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The young rough rider's handicap, or, Fighting the Mormon kidnapers [sic]

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The young rough rider's handicap, or, Fighting the Mormon kidnapers [sic]
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Young rough riders weekly
Taylor, Edward C.
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New York
Street & Smith
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1 online resource (28 p.) 28 cm.: ;


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Western stories. ( lcsh )
Dime novels. ( lcsh )
serial ( sobekcm )

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University of South Florida
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University of South Florida
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The University of South Florida Libraries believes that the Item is in the Public Domain under the laws of the United States, but a determination was not made as to its copyright status under the copyright laws of other countries. The Item may not be in the Public Domain under the laws of other countries.
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17906195 ( OCLC )
R16-00005 ( USFLDC DOI )
r16.5 ( USFLDC Handle )

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Ted Sttong dashed into the midst of the Danites, firing as he came. Crane recoiled before his weapons.

PAGE 2 bsUl!d Weekly. B y Sul>scription $2. 5 0 per year. E ntered accordingto Act of Congress i n the y eat rQ05, in t h e O ffice of the L ibrarziln of Congre s s, Washing t o n .D. C., by STREET & SMITH, 238 William St. N. Y APPiication made at the New Yo r k Po s t Offi c e f o r entry as Second-c la ss Matter. No. 49. NEW YORK, M a r c h 2 5 1905 Price Five Cents. , THE YOUN6 ROU6H RIDER'S HANDICAP; OR, Fighting the M ormo n Kidnapers. By NED TAYLOR. CHAPTER I. THE P RETTIEST GIRL IN CIMARRON. "There goes the pre ttiest g irl in Cim a rron The spe a ke r was t he man who kept the p o st office in the place . T h e person he spoke to was a well-built b oy, cla d in khaki clo th e s cu t afte r the militar y fa s hi o n and w e arin g a brown s o mb r ero The person he spoke abou t was a gi rl w h o was passi n g down the stre e t Her appea r ance backed up what the man had said She had dark b lu e e y es yellow ha i r and a slim grace ful figure She carried her s elf w ith a grace that is not u s uall y seen in Wes t e rn b order g irls. She looked neither to the l e ft nor right as sh e passed al o n g the stre et. The b oy whose att e ntion had b een called to her g a ze d afte r her for a m o m e nt. "That i s M i ss E th e l Winte r s i s it n o t ? he s a id. Ye s, that' s viiss Winters But y ou are a n ewcomer here: How i s it tha t yo u kn o w h er?" I met her s o me t ime a go "Befo r e she c ame he re?" Yes. "Sh e used to 11iv e away up in t h e San Juan Mountains, with h e r o ld fa th e r, wh o was a hunte r and trap per." "That i s wh e r e I me t h e r ." "Not m a n y w hit e m e n have b ee n up i n th a t p a r t of the c ountry. They say that it i s n o thing more than a wilderne s s ." I sbent so m e ti m e th e r e with a coup l e of frien d s of min e," s aid th e b oy. "It was a s yo u say, a wilderness; but all the sa m e it w as well wo rth trav e lin g thro u gh." "You mu st b e on e o f t he thre e f ellows I h eard about w ho trav e l e d up th e re. Y o u must b e T e d Stron g, th e youn g rou g h r i d e r ." "My n a m e is T e d Strong; s o m e peopl e c all m e t he youn g ro u g h r i de r Now t ha t you k now my n a me, yo u m i gh t see if th ere i s any mail for me h er e ." T ed Stron g I s it poss i ble? Well, I am pro u d to mee t you." Before t h e postmaste r w ent i n s id e to look through his


2 THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. letters, he insisted on shaking hands with the young rough rider several times. He had often heard of 'him, for Ted was a boy who was famous through a great part of the \Nest. A little over a year before our story opens, he had come west to run a ranch, and had organized an asso ciation of boys known as the young rough riders. The young rough riders had been so success1ul in handling the cattle on the ranch and disposing of the bad men and cattle rustlers who had attacked them at the first, that their l eader had become famous all through the border. Only a short time before he had been on a hunting trip in the San Juan Range, which lies to the north of Cimar ron and runs up into the borders of Colorado. While there he had met with Ethel Winters, and had helped her to escape from the clutches of a villainous mountaineer who had wanted her to become his wife. He knew that she had friends in Cimarron, and it was a surprise to him that she was living there. He would have liked to have seen her, but at present he had no time for any social pleasures whatever. He had come to Cimarron on business. The business was in connection with a railroad which a 1!.,Umber of Eastern capitalists had planned to build to the northward of the town. Ted Strong, having traveled through that country, had important information that they were anxious to know. The letter that he now opened told him that one of the railroad men would arrive at the station in Cimarron, and would like to meet him there. Ted Strong glanced at his watch and saw that it lacked but a few minutes of the time when the train was scheduled to arrive. He took his leave of the postmaster, and hurried away in the direction of the station In the meantime the girl who had been pointed out as the prettiest one in the town continued on her t way up the street, unconscious of the fact that she had attracted such attention, or that the young rough rider was near her. She was going in the direction of the house of her cousin, where she was staying. It lay up at the far end of the village. She had been on a trip down to the general store of the town, which was situated at the other end, close beside the railroad station. She had not gone far, however, when another figure stepped out and joined her. This was a boy of about the same age of the young rough rider. But the age was the only thing in which the two resembled each other. The young rough rider was muscular-looking, and burnt as brown as a berry from constant exposure to the sun. ----_,,_ ... ....... This boy was well enough built, but he had not the appearance of a boy who was in good training. His face was a little fat, and his eyes were not par ticularly bright. He had red hair and a rather pale countenance. He was dressed in very fine Eastern clothes, and he had a conceited look about him that showed that he thought a great deal of himself. He lifted his hat when he saw the girl, and bowe

THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. 3 "Thanks very much, but I can't." "Look here, Ethel," said the boy, drawing a little closer to her. "You are not treating me very nicely. What have I done to offend you?" "Nothing. You haven't offended me. I can't go out this morning-that is all." "That isn't all. I know what it is that is the matter. It is that time that I tried to kiss you when we were in the woods together. That's what makes you mad yet, isn't it?" "I'd rather not talk about that at all." "But that is what's the matter. I have apologized for it. I can't do any more, can I?" "You can cease talking about it." "Look here, Ethel, you know what it is that has kept me in the town here so long." "I'm sure I don't." "fYou do. You know very well that it was because I wanted to see you. Can't you treat a fellow decently?" "I've told you often that you ought to go back to school, as your parents want you to." "Cut that sort of talk out. You know very well that I am going to do what I please." "I know that you ought to do what your parents want." "You know that I am staying here on your account." "I am sure that I don't want you to stay." "W el1, I am going to stay. And I think that you ought to treat me better." They had left the town now, and were going along a lonely road. Jackson edged closer to the girl, but she always edged away from him, so that at last she was out at the extreme side of the road. She turned on him now, with an angry light flashing in her eyes making them a darker blue than usual. "I think that you have come far enough with me now," she said. "What's that?" "I want to be left alone. I want to walk the rest of the way by myself." "You mustn't get mad," said Jackson, with a laugh. Ethel clinched her fists tight and stamped on the ground with her little foot. "I am mad," she said. "What are you mad at? What have I done?" "\/\That have you done! You have been bothering me this way ever since I have been living in Cimarron. I thought I would be happy here, but I was happier when I lived like an Indian up in the mountains with my father. I won't stand it any longer. You have no right to bother me this way. It is a shame. If Ted Strong were here, he would not let you bother me this way." "Ted Strong! He's not here. He left the town some time ago. Tell me-has he written to you?" The girl did not answer. "He hasn t written to you. You might as well give up thinking about him. It is well known that he flirts witii every girl he meets." "He doesn't!" "Yes he does. You would like to think that he doesn t. He flirts with them all, and he is delighted when he is able to make a fool of one of them--" "How dare you !" "As he has with you." Clif Jackson was speaking in the most sneering, sar castic manner that he could assume. What he said was having its effect on the girl. She had colored rto the eyes, and it was easy to see that she was aflame with rage. "Clif Jackson !" she said, turning toward him, and looking him in the face. "After this I don't ever want to see you or speak to you again." "Too busy thinking of Ted Strong, eh? You might as well give up all ideas of him." "I'm not thinking of Ted Strong. I don't want to be annoyed by you any longer. You have no right to per secute me this way. I won't stand it." Jackson tried to smile, but could not. The way in which the girl spoke angered him, althou g h he did not wish to show his rage. "I apologized for trying to kiss you before," he said. "I told you to say no more about that." "And I'm not going to tty it again." "You had better not !" "I'm not going to try it. I'm going to do it." As he said this, Jackson leaped forward and cau ght the girl in his arms. His move had been so sudden and unexpected that she could not elude him. She was a girl who had lived a great deal in the open air, and who was much stronger than the usual run of girls. Jackson had not calculated on this fact when he caught hold of her. She struggled furiously with him, pulling at his hands to make him Jet go of her. "Let me go !" she cried. "Get a way from me! You'll suffer for this!" "I'll not let you go !" "You will." "After I have kissed you." In trying to get away from him, she dragged him along across the ground. He still clung fast to her and tried to hold her She struck him in the face, and the shock of the blow made him let go his hold for a moment. She darted out of his grasp, and he started after her. His face was stinging from the effects of the blow, and he was half blinded by it. In rushing forward, his foot caught upon a stone, and he fell prone on his face


4 THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. Ethel heard him fall, but did not turn around to look at him. She thought that he would be on his feet and after her in a moment. She ran away as fast as she could go, and scarcely slackened her pace till she arrived at her cousin's house, some distance away. She was out of breath when she got there, but she said nothing about what had happened. She thought that she had outrun Jackson, and she de termined not to go out alone until she was sure that he had left the town for good. In the meantime Jackson had lain still where he had fallen. He had been thrown headlong on his face, and he lay in a heap, motionless. There was a red stain on his forehead and a few drops of blood had darkened the dust of the road. The boy's head had struck a sharp stone in the path, and he had received a slight scalp wound. He was stunned, and for the time being he might have been dead, for all the apparent life there was in him. He was lying thus when a clean-shaven, wiry man, dressed in black, came up the path and stopped in astonish ment at seeing theprostrate form on the ground in front of him. -- CHAPTER IL STEVE CRANE. The man gave a l ong whi s tle b e tween his teeth, and th e n stooped d o wn and, s e i z ing th e boy by the shoulder, turned him over. He gave vent to another low whistle when he saw the face of the youth. "As I live and breathe!" he muttered, "if it isn't that kid that I guided through the mountings on a hunting trip, a while back. I wonder what he's

THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. s "Well, she w a s a fri en d of mine but sh e Yvent ove r to ther side of th e 1 y oung rou g h rid er. But is s he still livin in this town?" "Yes, she's still staying here." "Whereabouts?" "Up at the next house along this road. What do you want to know for?" "I came here about thet girl. I wanter see her." "What about?" "I'll tell yer. Her father allers promised me thet ther gal would become my wife. She refused herself because ther young rough rider showed up here an' she got stuck on him. But that nonsense is knocked out of her head. Since I left here I hev j'ined the Mormon church." "Joined the Mormon church?" "Yes; I m a travelin' missionary fer ther Mormons. It's a soft snap, besides workin' as a guide or huntin' fer yer livin'. Utah is a fine place, all right." "You don't mean to say that you expect to convert Ethel vVinters to the Mormon faith?" "Never mind what I expect." "I've heard of Mormons coming into other States and kidnaping women," said Jackson. "Look here!" said Crane, starting forward fiercely. "The less of that sort of stuff that you says, ther better. Does yer understand?" "What do you mean?" "Just this--" From beneath the tails of his long, black coat, the Mormon missionary whipped a gleaming revolver. Before the boy could raise a hand, it was pointing straight at his head. "Look out with that gun !" cried Jackson. "What do you want to cover me that way for? What have I done to you?" "Nothing, so fur." "Are you crazy, then? Put down the gun. It might go off." "It won't go off unless I want it to. I wanter speak ter yer kinder solemn, an' I have jest draw e d this h e re weepin out sorter ter emphasize what I have ter say. Understand?" "I understand. Say whate ver it is .that you have to say quick; I don't like that revolver." "I'll come ter ther p'int, all right. It is jest this: I don't want yer ter say a word about my bein' here ter anyone." "Of course not if you don't want to." "I don't want you to. I've got a leetle scheme on hand, and if you butts in on it y ou will get a bullet sent through you, underst and?" "I won t block your game or say a word to anyone. I promise. Now, for Heaven's sake, lower that revolver." C ran e dropped his weapon, and returned it to his hip pocket. "You see what is comin' fer yer, in case yer gets too talkative." "I see," said Jackson. "But we know each other well. There is no fear that I will get too talkative. Your scheme, I suppose, is to get Ethel Winters out to Utah?" "Yes, an' yer kin help me a leetle in it if yer will." "I'll help you. But at present I am going back to the hotel. I want to get washed up." "Have you seen Ethel lately?" "Not in two or three days. But that next house is hers." "All right, I'm goin' up thar now. I'll see yer ter night. So long!" Crane turned and walked up the road in the direction of the house. Jackson started off in the direction of Cimarron. He walked along the road until he was sure that Crane was but of sight. Then he came to a standstill. His face was dark with rage. "He plans to kidnap her and take her out to Utah with him," he muttered. "And he is ready to shoot me if I don't help him in his plot. I'll help him, all right. I'll help him in a way that he little expects. I'll get the girl from him. I'll pretend to join in with him in his little scheme, and at the last minute I'll rescue her from him. He talks about shooting. When the shooting comes off, there won't be any talk about it. There will be action. And I'll be the person to do the shooting. Crane thinks he can scare me. I think that I can use him for my own purposes. We'll see which of us is right." The face of the boy had changed a great deal while he was indulging in these reflections. There was a set expression to the jaw that showed that in spite of his appearance of softness, Clif Jackson could be determined and relentless when his mind was made up. If Crane could have seen him now, he might not have thought it was wise to have him help him in his schemes. Jackson turned around and, setting off at a brisk pace, was soon back to his hotel. '"" Up in his room he washed himself and brushed his clothes. Then, lighting a cigarette, 11e strolled down to the bar room and treated himself to a cocktail. After this he walked out on the porch of the hotel. There were several people there. Two of them, stout, prosperous-looking gentlemen, were just starting for the afternoon train out of Cimarron. They were shakin g hands and bidding good-by to a well-built, frank-faced boy, who was clad in a khaki suit and wore a gleaming revolver in his belt.


6 THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. Jackson thought that there was something familiar in his figure, but he could not place him. He watched the departing gentlemen step down on the street, waving farewell to the boy as they did so. Evidently they thought a great deal of him, for they treated him with a degree of respect which is generally only accorded by mt!n of that type to people of their own age. The boy, after seeing them depart, wheeled around and started to enter the hotel. Clif Jackson caught \ight of his face, and gasped with amazement. It was the young rough rider who had just concluded an interview with a party of railroad men. He did not see Jackson, as Jackson had quickly drawn into the shadow of the door when he recognized him. As he stepped into the hotel, Jackson slipped through the1 door that led into the barroom, so that the young rough rider did not see him at all. CHAPTER III. TED STRONG GOES CALLING. Ted Strong had concluded hi s business with the railroad men, and had nothing .to do that afternoon. He intended to stay in the town of Cimarron for a day or so, anyway, as he had been commissioned to make certain deals with the owners of property which the rail road men wished to buy. He was through with business for the day, however, and he determined, after lunch, to go up and see Ethel Winters. He had caught a fleeting glimpse of her in the street that morning, and she had seemed even prettier than when he had seen her before in the San Juan Mountains. Accordingly, after lunch, he washed and combed his hair, brushed up his khaki clothes until they looked a,s spick and span as though they had just come from the military tailor, and started off for the house where Ethel was staying. He learned that she was living with her cousin a w i d ow, whose name was Mrs. Meeb er, and who owned considerable property in the vicinity of Cimarron. Ted had to see Mrs. Meeber anyway, in regard to the land which the railroad people wished to get hold of, so that he was combining business and pleasure when he was paying a visit to Ethel Winters. He set out for the house in a buckboard, with a good team of grays, taking the same road that Clif Jackson bd taken when he walked with the girl that morning. On the way to the house, Ted noticed a man who passed him far over on one side of the road. This man was dressed in a lon g, black coat and a slouch h:it and he turned his face away from the young rough rider ; as though he wished to avoid him. Ted looked at him curiously. There was something about his figure and the manner of his walking that was familiar to him ; but he could not think how it was. He finally concluded that the man was some one whom he had noticed about the town of Cimarron when he had been there before. He dismissed the subject from his mind, and gave it no further thought. When he arrived at Mrs. Meeber's house, he found that Ethel was surprised and delighted to see him. "You are not the only riend who has turned up," she said. '!I met another, but I didn't want to see him at all. I was glad when he went away." "Who was it?" asked Ted. "Steve Crane," answered Ethel. "The man who was a guide in the San Juan Mountains-the man that you fought with, don't you remember?" "How long is it since he was here?" "He just left a little while ago." "Was he dressed in black?" "Yes; with a 19ng coat and a black, broad-brimmed hat. He looked like a minister." "What is he doing now?" "He says that he is in the mining business, and has settled down to live some pla ce north of here-he didn't say where." "And what is he doing here?" "He says that he came here to see me." "Ohhe did!" smiled Ted. "And what was it that he wanted to see you about?" Ethel flushed, and cast down her eyes so that the young rough rider could see only the long lashes that swept her cheek. "He said-I don't know-I mean that he said that he wanted me-" she hesitated for a moment, and became silent altogether. "I see," said the young rough rider. "He wanted to marry you ?" "He said he did." "You are not going to do it, are you?" Ethel looked at the boy and smiled. She had quite recovered her composure. "Why, you don't care whether I do or not," she siid. "Oh, yes, I do," said the young rough rider. "Tell me-you are not going to marry him, are you?" "No, of course not," said Ethel, looking frankly at Ted. "You know that I can't bear the sight of him. And besides, I could never marry anyone--" Mrs. Meeber "entered the room at that moment, and the conversation came to an end for the time being. Ted was introduced to Ethel's cousin. She was a woman o f middl e a g e with a sw ee t face and g entle man ner. Ted soon explained to her what his business as repre


THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. 7 sentative of the railroad was, and it did not take long to arrive at an understanding in regard to the land. Mrs. Meeber was very glad to sell it. She had been left a widow, with a good deal of real estate and very little money, years before. She had been forced to mortgage some of her property in order to live. But as the price which the railroad company offered for the land was a very liberal one, she saw that its sale would leave her in very comfortable circumstances. After this business was concluded, the young rough rider invited Ethel and M rs. Meeber to go for a drive in the buckboard which he had brought with him from the hotel. There were a pair of spirited grays hitched to it, and he knew well that around Cimarron there were numb e rs of beautiful drives that could be taken in a buckboard. Mrs. Meeber excused herself, thanking Ted for his invitation, and saying that she did not fee l well enough to go out for a drive that afternoon. Ethel accepted gladly. Her heightened color and sparkling eyes showed how delighted she was that the young rough rider had ca11ed upon her, and what pleasure she expected on her drive with him. It did not take her long to pin on a soft little sombrero which she wore, and put on a l i ttle military coat which her c o usin had given her a short time before Then she was ready, and the young rough rider helped her into the buckboard. Mrs. Meeber waved them a farewell from the porch, calling ?Ut that they were to be back in time for supper. They started off at a spanking trot, the young rou g h rider keepirtg the grays well in hand, but at the same time allowing them to make good time. "Isn't this grand?" said Ethel, looking about her with bright eyes. "It is a long time since I had a drive." "Do yo u like driving?" "I love it." "Here, then, take the reins." He handed the reins over to the girl, who took them with evident delight. At first the horses, recognizing that another hand was on their reins, broke tried to run. T ed kept a close watch on the girl, but did not offer to tak e the reins from her. He wanted her to h ave the pleasure of controlling the hor ses, if she could do it. He th ought that she could, and he was right. A t first the swaying of the buckboard and the mad dash of the animals made her cheeks. pale. Then her red lips set into a firm line, and she began to with the horses, trying to pull them down under control. She did not l ose her c ourage in the feast, but spoke to the horses soothingly. It was not long before she had them going at an even trot once more. "Bravo!" said Ted. "That was done splendidly. You needn't be afraid of driving any team in the country." "I was a little afraid at the first," said the girl, flushing and smiling with pleasure. "You didn't show it, if you were." "I didn't want you to see it. I didn't want you to think that I couldn't drive." "No danger of my thinkin g that now," said Ted; "but swing the horses round to the left there. We will go up the mountain road." Ethel had many times before looked at the scenery along that road, for she had lived high up in the hills above Cimarron for years. \ But never had it appealed so beautiful to her as it did that afternoon. The sky was clear and cloudless, and the distant peaks were of the purest and most heavenly blue and white. The nearer summits were clothed in dark pine forests, and up through the trees wound the mountain trail, a serpentine ribbon of white. It was up this trail that they were driving. The horses had now settled down to a steady trot, for it was not a slope at which even these mettlesome horses would have liked to move at anything faster. It was delightfully cool up there. The wind was perfumed with the breath of the pine forests, and seemJd as stimulating as wine. As they drove up through the trees, the young rough rider talked to the girl, telling of his early adventures in the West when he had first started the ranch, of his orming of the organization of the young rough riders, and of the terrible fights that they had had with cattle rustlers in the old days in North Dakota. He told her of all the boys who had belonged to the association of the young rough riders, and how they always stuck to each other through thick and thin. Ethel listened, thinking that it was the most interesting thing in the world. It sounded more like something she might have read about in a romance rather than anything that had actually h appened. "Oh, dear!" she said. "I wish I were a boy." "Why?" asked Ted. "Because then I would join the young rough riders but no, you wouldn't let me, would you?" "I don't know," said Ted, gravely. "We might." "But I'm not a boy, anyway, so that it doesn't matter." "I'll tell you a secret," said Ted. "I don't beli eve tha t you would eve r guess it. I would much rather have you as you are." "I've never had any of the splendid adventures that you fellows have had. I have n eve r been on a ranch." "You have had a lot more adventure than falls to the


8 THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. lot of most girls. Living up there in the mountains, you must have seeu plenty of hunting of all kinds I know that you are a splendid shot with a rifle." "You beat me at that the first time that I ever saw you. I've had lots of fun though, hunting game up there. Sometimes it was whole weeks when I didn t see anyone except my father, and when I did see anyone it was that hateful old Steve Crane." "I wonder what he :was doing here?" said Ted. "Do you think he left the town ?" "I don't .know-I'm afraid not. He was angry when he left me." "Angry at what?" "At me. He wanted m; to agree to marry bim, you know. I couldn't do that. He said when he went out that he would find a way of bringing me to terms." "You think that he is staying in the town?" "Yes; I think so. I think that he will try and see me again. I don't see why he should persecute me this way." "I'll find a means to put a stop to it. As soon as I see him, I'll make it clear to him that he 'II have to let you alone." "Oh, Ted! Be careful! He's a bad character He doesn't know that you are here, but he hates you, and if he can find any way of doin g you an injury, he will do it. He said to me that he was laying for you, and that sooner or later he would get you. Please be careful. I have heard him threaten you more than once." "People who are threatened very much generally live a long time," said the young rnugh rid er. "I am not at all afraid of Crane-bad and all as he is." "There is another enemy of yours in the town, too, so that you must be careful." "Who is that?" "Clifford Jackson." "What? Is he he r e yet? What does he stay here for so long?" "I don't know. He has been bothering nie a good deal. I ran away from him this morning. He wouldn't let you a l o ne." "He'll let you alone as long as I am in the town," said Ted. "But go easy here around these turns-the road is very steep here. Perh a ps I had better take the reins. It is harder driving up here." Ethel turned the reins over to the young rough rider. They were high up on the mountain side now, and the p

THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. 9 He aimed with each blo w that he struck, and he did not miss his aim. The qien who leaped for the heads of the horses were blinded as Crane had been. Had the young rough rider struck them anywhere else, they would not have minded the pain. The desperaite character of their attack showed that they were men who would stop at nothin g But the blinding blows across the eyes made them sightless for the moment, and hence incapable of doing anything. One fell backward into the bushes. Another dodged to one side but 111 time to prevent the wheels of the buckboard from passing over him. A third, in his blind agony, ran madly in front of the vehicle The pole struck him in the shoulder and knocked him down. For a moment he was under the horses' feet. The carriage went up on one side, as a wheel pa s sed over him. His screams of fear and pain resounded in the ears of the young rough rider. Ted kept his balance wonderfully. There was no need to urge the horses forward. They were going at a mad run now. The blows that they had received from the whip had thrown them into a panic, and the young rou g h rider could do nothing to hold them for a moment or so. They whirled around a bend in the road with such suddenness that it seemed as if the buckboard were.going over. This was a good, thing, from one point of :vie w 'It enabled the young rough rider to get speedily out of the reach of those who had attacked the carriage. They were all far behind it now, around the turn of the road. It was dangerous from anoth e r point of view however, for the road was narrow and full of sharp turns. Ted Strong knew that there was a sharp, downward slope in front of him, not ver y far away, and that if h e did not check the animals b e fore he came to that, the buckboard would b e wre cked, and both of them would be either injure d or kill e d. The boy did not give a thought to the men who had attacked the carriage. That clanger, whatever it w as, was out of the way for the pres ent. All h i s attenti o n was directed to the madly galloping steeds in front of him. He did not ev e n sit clown, but, bracing one foot a g ainst th e da shboard st e adi e d himself and bore back on the reins :or all that he was worth. At first the horses paid no attention to his tugs. Ted could see the hill down which they were almost sure to dash, only a little distance ahead of him. He knew that they must be checked before he reached that. He was not thinking of his own safety at all. He himself could have leaped into the bushes at the side, and escaped without anything more than a few scratches. It was the girl beside him! She must be preserved from injury, no matter what the cost! Muttering a prayer to between his set teeth, the young rough rider took a tum of the reins around each of his hands, and commenced to saw on them. This was a method that he would not have tried at all had not the case been desperate. lt often, instead of serving the object aimed at, throws the horses into a panic and makes them run all the faster. But this time the young rough rider was successful. The horses slowed their pace decidedly. They pulled with their heads, as though they were striving t0 get the bits between their teeth, but their pace was slower. Ted felt that they were coming under control. Part of their run had been uphill, and they were winded and breathing heavily. Now was the time for a strong, steady pull. The y oung rough rider pulled hard, using all the st re n g t h of his powerful arms. The r e ins seemed to cut into his hands, and the muscles of his bic eps ached with the strain. He set his teeth, however, and when J:ie had reached wh a t m i g ht have been supposed the limit of his strength, he n erv ed himself for a still greater effort. This last effort was a success. The horses moved more slowly now. From a run they came down to an ordinary gallop. Then they were going at a canter, a trot, and finally a walk. At the very brow of a steep descent they came to a stand s till, trembling al)d sweating. One glance down the st e ep hill that lay in front of h i m t old th e boy that it would hav e meant sure de

IO THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. The boy feared tha.t she had fainted, but up t o the present moment it would have be e n s uicid al for him to have lifted his eyes from the road in fr on t of him for an instant. As he turned to speak to her, he saw that she wa s n o t there! The seat beside him was empty! CHAPTER V. CLIFFORD JACKSON. Ted Strong was dumfounded. He r eme mber e d that th e la s t time that he had glanced at the girl was when he had leaped to his f ee t to lash at the men who had grasped at the horses' heads. He had noticed her then, sitting fast in her place and holding on to the seat to keep from tumbling off. Since that moment he could not look to see where she was. He had supposed that she was still there in her place, but there was not a moment when it would have b ee n safe for him to take his eyes off the rocky p a th down which the ungovernable horses were dashing. Where was she ? Had she been dragged off the carriage by the men who had attacked it? Had she fallen out owing to the rocking of the buck board? \ Who were the men who had rushed at the vehicle? What was Crane doing with them? Ted had never seen any of these black-clothed men before, and that long coat, cut after the Prince Albert fashion, was a new costume for Crane, the guide. The young rough rider wasted no time in try ing to an swer any of these questions out of his head. He knew that it was useless to do so. Whether she had fallen out or been dragged out, Ethe l Winters was in danger and in need of assistance. It was not like the young rough rider to stand still, puzzling and thinking, when this was the Action was more in his line. "There is only one thing to be done," he mused, dropping to the ground. "That is to drive back s low ly along the road, and to be on my guard all the time. His hands were sore and blistered fr om the pullin g of the lines, but he paid not the slightest attention to that. He grasped the reins and turned the team around. Then he leaped into the buckboard once more. The horses were so quiet and played out now that he could drive them with one hand easily. "It's a queer piece of busin ess," he muttered, as he shoo k the reins and started the hors es off again. "Pray H ea ven that she has not been injured when she fell off." This time h e held the reins in his l eft hand, and drew his revolver with his right and laid it across his knee. The people who had tried to stop the car ri age might stiil b e lurking somewhere aro un d The young rough rid e r was n o t to be taken by surprise a second time. He scanned the hills on eit her hand as he d ro ve along, and looked eagerly along the r oa d for some appearance of th e g irl. But she was not t o be seen His he art was beating fast now with un e asin ess. During th e whole mad runawa y he h ad b ee n quite cool and collected The th ought of danger to himself made the young rough rider steadier r athe r tha n any t h ing else. Bu t the fact tha t Ethel was missing filled him with all sorts of fears. He rem embered her sweet eyes, her m erry smile, the trust and fri en dship that she se e m ed to place in him. He set hi s teeth, and muttered between them. "If she h as come to injury in any way," he said, "those f ellow s will pay dearly for it. Crane was the leader-I c ould that. I will hunt them down if it takes years to do it." A t one ti me a tree trunk lying by the side of the road for a moment t ook on the form of the girl. With fast-beating heart, the young rough rider drove up to it. In another place a clump of bushes looked disturbe d as thou g h she had fallen among them. The n h e cam e to the place where the road was marked with hoofprints of s eve ral horses, qS well as the impres sions left by the fe e t of men. The young rough rid e r came to a stop here. It was the s pot where th e attack had b ee n made upon him It had taken him a great deal longer to get back than it had to travel in the other direction. The young rough rider's heart sank when he arrived at it. It m ean t that the girl had disappeared. If she h a d fallen off she would have been seen by him before h e re ached this point. And if she had been unhurt, she would surely have walked on after the buckboard, or waited to see whether or not he would have returned. This meant that the men who had leaped out upon him had her in their grasp. Perhaps one of them had dragged h e r out of the car riage w hen he was whipping his way throu g h their midst. 111e young rough rider h ad done all th a t a human b eing c o uld do to help save t he gi rl, but at the same time he felt guilty. He f e lt thait he was to blame in some way. The re was a stern l ook on his face. He threw the reins loose on the necks of the sweating hors es, and gazed about at the road. There were the tracks of o th e r h o r ses besides his own there Some oi the tracks ran into the trees at the side of the road,


THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. II There a bunch of tracks could be seen running off down the road in fr o nt of him. The young rough rider, experienced as he was at trail ing, could see all this without getting down out of the buckboard "They were mounted," he muttered "There is no doubt that they were mounted when they came here, and that they concealed tjieir horses in the trees there, out of which they leaped at us I see their tracks going straight in front of me. That is the way that they left. I will follow them I'll cut one of these horses loose, and ride after them while they are hot. I'll leave the buckboard and the other horse here. It doesn't matter. If they have Ethel in their hands, I must get after them right away, before they can get a chance to cover their tracks. This is some plot of that villain, Crane. He wanted Ethel to marry him. He would have forced her into it had it not been for me." Ted leaped from the buckboard, and, picking out the freshest and most spirited of the two grays, started to set it free from the traces. A sound behind him caused him to start suddenly. With lightning speed he turned, and drew out his revolver, which he had restored to his belt when he jumped out of the buckboard. In the middle of the road, mounted on a handsome black horse, was Oif Jackson. He had evidently just turned the bend of the trail that led back to Cimarron. He was looking down at the young rough rider with a peculiar express ;on on his pasty countenance. "You might as well put up that gun," he said. "It is a friend. You must be awfully nervous when you are out alone on these roads." Ted noticed the sneer that there was in the fellow's voice He lowered his weapon, however, and thrust it back into his belt "Did you pass any men as you came up the trail?" "Pass any men?" repeated Jackson, in an insolent tone "Ye ; pass any men. Y QU understand what I say "I dbn't remember any." "None at all?" "Not that I saw But what has happened to you?" Ted looked steadily at the boy There was a gleam in Jackson's eye that he did not like. As he looked into it, a strange feeling shot through him. It was the feeling that Jackson knew s omething ab out the disappearance of Ethel V\Tinters. There was no reason for him to suppose bey o nd the manner of the lad, but still he fdt sure of it in bis own mind. "I was attacked by a party of men here," he said, :watching narrowly as h e spoke. Jackson affected the appearance of great surprise. "Attacked !" he said. "What was it? Robbers?" "I don't know who they were. All I know is that they are going to pay dearly for th is. Every one who had anything to do with it will suffer." Teel said this between set teeth, and looked straight a t the boy in front of him There was something the appearance of the young rough rider at that moment that made him look actually terrifying It was seldom, indeed, that the boy was angry. But now he was determined to save the girl from what ever fate it was that threatened her, and determined to run down the villains who had carried her away in this cowardly manner. That determination showed in his eye in a flash that made Jackson feel uncomfortable and turn his own eyes away. He turned a shade paler, also There was a menace in voice of the young rough rider tha t made him feel uneasy. Teel noticed the pallor and the fact that the other would not meet his eye. He was convinced that Jackson was acting a part. But if this was so, Clif Jackson was a good actor. A moment later he had recover;d complete control of himself. He looked the young rough rider full in the face At the same time an expression of the deepest surprise filled his own countenance. He knew that if he was to foo l this boy, he would have to be very careful. He simulated the greate s t surprise that he could. "This is surprising!" h e said. "Are there robbers m this part of the country?" "I don't know whether there are robbers here or not," said Ted. "But there are scoundrels, and that I am sure of. They carri ed off a girl." "Carried off a girl! What do you mean?" "I mean what I say. They took a girl out of this buckboard and ran off with her." "Were you in the buckboard ?" "Yes; I was in it." "And you let them ?" "I couldn't help it. The horses bolted, and while I was fighting with them and trying to hold them in, she disappeared. I thought at first she might have fallen out of the seat. Dut now I think that she has been carried away." "\Vhat a terrible thing to happen! 'Nho was it that carried her off?" "That's what I don't know, but it is what I am going to find out before l ong." "Who was the girl?" "Ethel Winters."


12 THE YOUNG ROUG H RIDERS W EEKLY. "Ethel Winters I think I r e m e m b e r th a t girl." "I think that you do. "Her father u se d to be an old tra pp e r up in th e S a n Juan Range." Yes and for some time past sJ1e has b e en living in Cimarron. " I didn't kn o w that. I have n t s ee n her in a l o n g time. But it i s t e r r i ble t o think s he could b e carri ed off that way. Who c o uld have d o ne it, I w o nd er? I h a ve o nly seen her on ce o r t w ice in m y life, but I thou gh t s h e was a nice g irl. It must be a t e rrible thin g for you, as it happen e d w hen s he w a s in y o ur c a re." "It is a terribl e thing but it i s go in g to be still more terrible for the people wh o had a hand in it ." "You intend to chase them and find her?" "Yes." "Do y ou think that y ou can do iit all by yourself ? There was a s neer o n the fac e o f C lif J ac k so n but it turned to a look of fear as the young rou g h rid e r st epp ed up close to his sid e "Yes, he sa id in a low ton e "I think th a t yo u can help me to find h e r." "I'm sorry, but I hav e to g e t b a ck t o Cimarron n o w ." "No you haven t. You are g oing to wait a m o m e nt or so." Clif Jackson looked a e cid e dl y alarmed now. There was s o m e thin g ab out the y o un g rou g h rider that he feared. He tried to turn his horse around, but Ted c a u ght it by the bridle, and h e ld it fast. "What do you m e an?" h e s a id, try in g t o s h ake th e rein loose fr o m th e g ri p o f the you n g ro u g h rider. "This i s wh at. I m ean!" sa i d T e d As he sp o ke, }\e sei z ed Clif Jack s on b y the ankle, and with a single motion h e aved him out of the saddle Jackson had been expectin g nothin g so sudden as thi s He was tumbled ov e r on the g round, landin g on his shoulder and fallin g over on his back. For a moment he lay there sprawlin g while Ted q uieted his horse, which had b e come a little alarmed. He tried to scram bl e to hi s feet. "What do you me a n b y that ? h e cri ed. "Here is what I mean said T e d, leaving the horse and grasping him by the coat c o llar. "You know more ab out this than you pretend to know he said. "You tried to dec e ive me. I thought that you were lying from the first, but I was sure of it wh e n you said that you had n o t s e en the gi rl since the time that y ou left her in the mounta ins. I know tha t you knew she was here in Cimarron. Jackson got on his feet, and mana ge d to pull himself free from the gras p of the y oun g rou g h rider. He sto o d fac i n g him now. The fall from hi s horse had put him in a towering rage. T e d h i mse lf was e nra g e d ove r th e disap pearan ce o f th e g ir l or h e w o uld not ha v e act e d i n th a t w ay. "Yo u l e t m e a l on e," said J a c ks on. "You h ave n o ri ght to t o uch me." "I'll l e t yo u al one w h e n yo u t ell me what I want to kno w I want to k no w w h e r e t h a t g irl is, an d what you h ad t o do wit h h e r dis a pp e a r ance. " W ell, y o u won t find out fr o m m e I d o n t know a n y thin g a b out h e r ." "Yo u d o an d you 'll h a v e t o t e ll." I w on' t tell. Yo u t hink th a t you are a n awful lot. W h e n you c o m e h e r e and try t o bull y me a round this w ay, y ou will find that I wo n t st a nd for it. Let me al o ne." "I w on't let you al o ne till yo u tell me all that you know: about Ethel." "Ab out E t he l! Y o u think you a r e a w fully smart. Y o u think that s h e is stuck o n y ou, d o you? Well you will ne ver s e e her again ." J a c ks on was e d g in g away fr o m the young rough rider, and movin g toward his horse. T e d followed him. "Keep away fr o m me," s aid J a cks o n, warningly. "Tell me what has to Ethel? "I won 't!" "You will." D o y ou think th a t y ou c a n make me? You a re mak in g the b i g ges t m i s ta ke i n your life if yo u think that. You m a ke m e tir ed with your c o nc e it. You c o m e around h ere and t ry to b ull y m e You t hre w me off my horse by t a king me b y surpri se an d yo u t hink tha t y ou are such a hand s o me fellow th a t all th e g i r l s fall in l o ve with y ou. Ethe l didn t h ave any u se for y ou She dropped off that buckboard and gave y ou the slip just for fun." T e d made a rus h for th e b oy. A t the same ti me Clif thrust out his hand. It held a p i s t ol. He fired right in the face of the young rough rider. CHAPTER VI. JACKSON TELLS-TH E A TTAC K OF THE MORMONS. The y oun g rough rid e r was blinded b y the flas h, and felt a stir in his h air a s the bull e t sped through it, within a fraction of a n inch o f his head. H e di ve d forw a rd duckin g hi s head. It was that duck that save d his life. If h e h ad n o t l owe re d hi s h ea d a t that moment, the bull e t wou ld h ave s truck him s quare in the center of the forehead. He grasp e d the h and th a t h e ld th e r e vol v er, and by h olding it tight, preve nted Jack son from firing at him again.


THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. 13 Jackson was in a rage that was more lik e ins anit y th a n anythin g else. He cried out in his furious temper and kicked and fought with the young rough rider like a wild animal. For a moment his fury was s o great that it was all that Ted could do to hold him in check at all. He struck Ted in the face with his free hand, kicked at bim with his feet and pushed him backward across the road. At the same .time he was trying to point the revolver at the young rough rider's body. Ted gave all his attention to this hand. He knew that Jackson was insane with fury, and that he would kill him if he got the chance. He grasped his wrist with both hands, and held on like grim death, pointing the weapon up in the air and holding it that way, so that if it was discharged it would do no harm. The rage of Jackson gave him the strength of a madman. He crooked his leg around that of the young rough rider and tripped him up. They both rolled over on the ground. Jackson was above. He planted his knee on Ted's chest and struck him a smashing blow on the point of the jaw. For a moment the senses of the young rough rider seemed on the point of leaving him. His head swam. The strength that he was holding onto the revolver with relaxed for that momertt. With a yell of triumph, Jacks o n pulled it out of the clutch of the young rough rider. He pointed it at his head. Ted was looking into the muzzle. By chance, Jackson had struck him a blow on the jaw that had partially stunned him. Now he intended to shoot him dead. Ted could see the weapon brought to bear on him. He could see the look of deadly malice in the eyes of the bo y who was kneeling on his chest. There was murde r in those eyes. The young rough rider could see it as plain as day. He did not seem to have any strength left in his limbs. The blow had paralyzed and weakened all his muscles for the moment. Jackson's hand was unsteady, and he could not aim properly, although he was so close. "I'll kill y o u now!" he panted. "I'll kill you now, and l e ave your body here to be eaten b y the wolves and prairie dogs. No one ever travels this way. No one will know what has become of the young rough rider." "Yo u hav en't got me yet," said Ted, clutching the revolver a g ain. He had had time to recover his strength a little. H e t w i s t e d h i s b o d y now, and threw Jackson to one side. He pulled the revolver out of his grasp, and drove the butt of it into his face. Jackson's burst of fury had left him and he was weak. The young rough rider seemed to have a steady strength, that increased rather than weakened as he fought. They still struggled; but it was a struggle of a dif ferent nature now. The young rough rider had all the best of it. He bore Jackson down on his back, and held him there, powerless. "Now," he said, looking down in his face, "you tried to kill me, but failed There is nothing in the world to prevent me from choking you to death where you lie." "Let me up!" gasped Jackson. "You tried to kill me. I can kill you now." "LeJ. me up." "I don't need a revolver. See !" The young rough rider grasped him by the throat, and sent his strong fingers deep into the flesh. Jackson screamed, and then his cries grew fainter. His face to"ok on a darker hue. He gurgled and gasped in his throat. It seemed as if he were really being chbked to death. Ted relaxed the pre s sure for a moment, and looked down into the face of the boy who had tried to kill him a moment ago. His eyes, generally so kind and soft in their expression, w e re hard and merciless now, when Jackson looked into th e m. "Let me live !" he pleaded, in a faint voice as soon as the pressure on his throat was relaxed. "Why should I let you live?" said the young rough rider. "Don't be a murderer." "You were willing to be a murderer." "I was crazy. I did not know what I was doing. Let me live. I will tell you about Ethel Winters." "What do you know about her?" "I know where she is?" "What else?" "I know who carried her off. I know the plot. Let me up, and I will tell you all." "Are you telling the truth?" "I swear that I am. I am telling the truth, if evei: I told it." Ted looked down into his eyes, and saw that for this time, at l e ast, Jackson was telling the truth. He relaxed his grip on his throat and stood up. Jackson tried to get up. He was so weak that he staggere d and fell again. The furious struggle had ex haust e d him terribly. The only mark that the young rough rider had to


THE YOUNG RO UG H RIDERS WEEKLY. show t h a t h e h ad been in a figh t was a h o l e in hi s sombrero w hi c h th e sho t th a t J ac k sb n had fire d at him had m a d e H e h e lped Jackso n t o his feet and all owe d hi m to s it d ow n o n the s id e o f th e bu c kboar d The r e d-h a ire d b oy w a s a s p a l e as a ghost and was shaki n g lik e a l eaf. T ed fa c ed hi m an d look e d h i m full in the ey e I did n o t i n t e n d t o kill y o u w h e n I had you in my p ower th e n ," h e s ai d "No?" sa i d J ackso n, faintl y "No; I i nt e n de d to fri g hten you. And I think that I did it t oo." Ye s ." "But you are n o t out o f m y hands y et. I want you t o tell me all that you k n ow conc e rnin g the disappear an c e o f Ethe l Winte r s." "Yes; I will t ell you." Y o u had better. Do you know what will happen if you d on't?" "No." I 'll t ell y ou. The kn ow l e dge ma y as sist you in telling t he truth Y o u attempt e d to take m y life?" I was ma'd. I d i d n o t kn ow wh a t I w as d o in g ." "Yo u know v e r y well th a t you m ay go to jail for that. H ow w old y our fath e r like t o h ear that you were in j ail for a tt e mpt ed murde r?" But yo u c a nnot put me in jail." But I can. You are po we rless now. I can take you, a s a prison e r d ow n t o Cim a rron an d mak e th e charge. I can sh o w the bull e t h o l e in my hat as a proof." "You w o uld n o t do it." "I would do it in a mom ent if I found that y ou were n o t t e llin g m e the truth. If y ou are c o nc e rn e d in this atte mpt to capture and run away with this g irl you are a c ri m inal. If I took you down to Cimarro n and told th e m that you were y ou would be lynch e d. "I know that they might do that. But it was not my pl o t." "Nev e r mind. You know what may happen to you if you do not tell the truth. N o w answe n my questions and answer them to the p o int Who were the men who capture d Ethel ?" They were Mormons." "Mormons?" "Yes ; the y were a party of Danite elders, who came t o the t ow n here for th e purpos e o f g etting convert s ." "And why did they attack Ethe l ? "Sam Crane was their leader. He i s in love with her. He is usin g the M ormons simpl y as tools." "And he t o ld yo u about it?" "He told me a b out it becau s e h e wanted m y help." "He t o ld y o u that? What di d h e w ant yo u to do ? "He wanted m e to d ecoy th e g irl out in some way That is wha t he wanted me for. He wanted me to take her out drivin g o r some thin g like th a t a n d ge t h e r up in th e hill s h ere so thilt he c o uld c arry h e r off. " I b egi n t o see th e pl o t n ow. H e kno w s this pl a c e prett y we ll. Tha t i s h o w h e managed t o le a d ; h ese Mo rm o n s u p h e r e s o r eadily "He s a w h e r go out. dri ving w ith y ou. I was w ith h i m." "And w h a t then?" W e h eade d stra i ght fo r th e hill s H e h ad hi s i Mo r m o n s up ther e They did n o t like t o s how th e m se l ves in the t ow n ." A n d th e n t hey attack e d the c a rri age W h a t we r e yo u d o in g there ? " H e sa id it mi ght be a go o d id e a for me t o m ee t yo u a nd find out w h a t you s aid a b o ut it. H e th o u ght I mi ght put you off the track. " Yo u s ucceeded nicely, didn t yo u ? But w h e re has he g one?" U p in the hills a little further . He intends to keep her there for a while and smuggle h e r to th e West w h e n the hue and cry over h e r disappear a n c e has pa sse d a w a y." "He does, eh? And I supp o se that he int e n de d yo u to help to put people on the wro n g track. I think that for taking part in this plot y ou deserve punishm ent." "I couldn t help it." "You couldn't help it eh? You are a wo rs e sc o undrel than Crane. I will s e e that you ge t all y ou d e serve. You pretended to care for the girl and, when sh e turne d yo u d o wn, y ou tried to get even with her in this villainous way." I was mad at her "You scoundrel! I will see that y ou get the punishment y ou de s erve." "I t o ld y ou all that I know." "Yes ; and I made no promise to you. You will go to jail for this " Please let me go." "You deserve all that you will get." "I did not m e an to hav e her kidnap ed. Cra n e w o uld have kill e d m e if h e tho u ght that I was treach e rous. "What d i d y ou plan to do then? "I int e nded t o set her free myself." "And then take the credit for rescuing her." "I suppose so." "Do you know where the y have taken her to?" "Crane did not tell me. But I think that I know." "Where? "I know that Crane has a cabin up in the hills. I am almost sure tha t is where he is g one." "How is it that y ou do not kn o w for sure?" "He did not trust m e altogether. He kn e w that I w as fond of Ethel myself." "Fond of h e r yo u v ill a in! A ni ce kin d o f fo n d n ess Where is this cabin?" "Up in the woods near the hill of the three pin es."


THE YOUNG, ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. 15 '-'Can you go to it?" "I think so." "Then you will have to lead me there. And at the first sig n of treachery on your part, I will tie you up and take you back to Cimarron. Can we make the trip in a buckboard, do you think?" "Yes, it is an easy road." The young rough rider glanced at Jackson m silence. He saw that the youth was thoroughly cowed, and realiz ed how ser ious his position was. There was no doubt that he was t e llin g the truth, now. Ted \lid not think that he would again t ry to escape him. He turned to the buckboard and started t o rearrange the harness. At the same time, a dark figure stepped out of the woods behind him. Jackson saw the figure, but it was too late. Before he could cry out the young rough rider was felled to the ground with a blow on the back of the head. Three other dark figures stepped out of the trees and threw themselves upon him. The figures were those .of Crane and three of his Mor mon followers CHAPTER VII. IN THE HANDS OF THE MORMONS. The struggle that followed was short lived, but while it lasted it was of the cyclonic description All four men had piled themselves on the young rough rider. At the very first he had been knocked down. The blow had not stunned him; but before he could get on his feet, his foes were upon him. For a moment the fight was ind esc ribable in its fury. Alth d u g h taken by surprise, the young ro1tgh rider \;truck out with hands and feet. One black-coated Danite got a smash in the face that sent him staggering. Another received a kick in the pit of the stomach that knocked him flat on his back. But Crane and the remaining men had seized Ted by the arms. There was not time to draw a weapon. They had him by the wrists before h e could make a sec ond movement, after the first wild blows that he h a d struck. He g9t on his knees, but th ey threw themselve s upon him and tried to bear him down aga in. All three rolled ove r and over on the Then the man who had been smashed in the face joined the fight. It was silent, but it was deadly. Not a word was spoken on either hand. The combatants had 110 strength to waste in breath. The Mormons knew that they were fighting with a boy whom it was next to impossible to down. Ted was fighting with that grim determination and desperate courage which never deserted him. He seemed a match for all of them, although he could not shake himself loose. Then the man who had received the kick in the stomach got on his feet and joined the fight. For a moment ther e was an indistinguishabl e mass of arms and legs as they all piled on top of the boy. Then the heap quieted, and the Mormons, battered and bruised fr om the beating that the young rough rider had given them, arose to their feet. They arose one by one. The boy lay where he was. They had bound him hand and foot with ropes that the y had evidently brought with them for this purpose. The young rough rider was left lying flat on his back, without the power to stir a limb. Up to this time, Crane and his men had not paid the slightest attention to Jackson. Crane turned to him now with a black look on his face. "You see what happened to your friend, here?" he said. "Yes," said Jackson, who was still so weak from the effects of his struggle with the young rough rider that he c o uld scarcely stand upright, but leaned against the buckboard for support. "You saw what happened to him. That is what is lik e ly to happen to you." "What did I do to you?" "What did you do to me? Do you suppose that I trusted you? You fool !" "I don't know whether you trusted me or ,n'ot," said Jackson, in a weak voice. "Well, I didn't. I took you into my confidence, but it was because I thought that I would need you." "I didn't ask be taken in?" Jackson was deathly pale now. It seemed that when the young rough rider was not threatening him, that Crane was. He seemed to b e between the devil and the deep sea. He realized now into what a hole his evil deeds had led him. He saw no escape for himself. "You were taken in ," said Crane, with an ugly snarl. "I didn't trust though. I told yer to go up ther road an' see ther young rough rider when he got back. But I stayed in ther bushes. We took ther gal around by the road, but she's in a cabing in the r woods not very far from here. I come back here, and I heerd yer talk ter ther young rough rid e r. I saw th er scrap, too. So did my friends, here. We was lyin' in ther bushes thar,'


16 THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. mighty snug. I saw yer give yer se lf away t er ther young roug h rider." I didn't tell him anything till I had to ." "Till yer had to! Yer acted like an old woman Ther way yer talked showed that yer knew more than yer said." I tried to fool him." "Ye r did, eh? Yer didn t do it very well. "I couldn't help his attacking me ." "Yer could have helped lettin' him see that yer knew a l o t." "I didn't tell him." "No; but yer grinned at him in a way thet if he hedn't b een a mortal foo l he would have got wise ter yer." I didn't intend to." "Yer didn t int e nd! Yer a go! dinged fool! He jump ed yer, an I was glad ter see it." "I couldn't h e lp that." "Yer might have put up some kind of a fight." "I did." "I saw ther kind of a fight yer put up." "I had the be s t of it at the first ." "Yes, why didn't yer ke e p it? Yer might hev plugged him through ther head, but yer didn't have ther nerve." "You saw that I d i d my best." I saw yer git licked. An' then I saw yer give ther whole game away like a sneaking coward." There was a flash of an ge r in Jackson's eye. He was recovering his strength. He stood up on his feet. "There is no reason why you should browbeat me this wa y," he said. "I won't stand it." "What will yer do?" asked Crane, sneeringly. "Clear out of here." "An' split on ther game some more?" Ted had been listening to the conversation with the greatest interest. \He knew that if Jackson could get away, there might bJ hope for himself and the girl. Otherwise, he felt that there would be none. He thought that there was some good in Jackson in spite of his weakness and overbearing conceit. He had been hoping that Jackson '1,VOuld make a dash for liberty, for he felt sure that Crane intended to make a prisoner of him also. He had been waiting for Jackson to make a start. Now he felt that he could wait no longer. "Get out of h e re, Jackson !" he called from where he lay. "Get on your hors e and make a run to Cimarron. Try and undo some of the harm that you hal(e done." Jackson comprehended the comma n d and saw the wis dom of it. He made a leap for his horse. At the same time Crane rushed for him. He made a wild grab just as Jackson got into the saddle. The horse s tarted off at a gallop, but Crane, skillfolly dodging the flying hoofs, leap ed out a nd caught him by the foot. Jackson tried to hold onto the saddle and shake himself free. It was useless. Crane had fast hold of him and was pulling m one direction The horse had leaped away in another. Jackson was yanked out of the saddle and fell to the ground. He landed on his hands while the horse gallop ed off, its hoofs echoing wildly among the hills . Crane dropped the boy's foot and looked at him with a sneer on his face. The three Mormons, all bearded and all wearing black coats had sat themselves down on the buckboard. They were pale, grave men, and they did not laugh at Jackson's plight as Crane did. Jackson got on his feet and Crane caught him by the collar. "The young rough rider is clever," he said, "but yer didn t act on his advice quick enough." "Let me go," said Jackson struggling with him. Crane only fastened a tighter hold on his collar and laughed. He was a good deal stronger than Jackson under or dinary circumstances, and the experiences that Clif had passed through that day had weakened him a good deal. "Let you go?" said Crane. "I guess not You are coming with us for the present. You will be lucky if you get away when we leave this of the countr y. As fer ther young rough rider-be dies-that's all ther is ter it! He hes give us trou ble enough already. He dies!" Lying on his back, bound hand an d foot, the young rough rider heard these ominous words from Crane. He knew that the ex-guide, who had suddenly appeared thus as a leader of Mormons, was not a man who made remarks like that in a jesting spirit. Crane was a man of few words, and, whatever he said, meant. "Here," said Crane, "Brother Drone, would you mind handing the rope?" One of the Mormons stepped forward with a lariat, and a moment later Jackson's hands were bound behind his back. "This feller would surely split on us if he got a chance now," said Crane in an explanatory way. "We will take him up to the cabin an' lock him in when we leave. After that, he may get out; but it will be too late fer him to go after us." "The C?ther youth?" said Drone, in a deep voice. "The other youth is dangerous." "What? After we have taken the maiden away from here, what harm can he do?"


fl THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. 17 "He can do a whole l o t of harm. H e isl n o t no k id, l tell yer that." "He is young, but he is strong." "Strong he is -Strong by name and strong by natur. He would git on ther trail arter us, an' he'd faller us all ther way ter Salt Lake City." "In the land of the Latter Day Saints, he could do n o thiHg." Couldn't he? Yer would find that he would raise a fuss thet wasn t easy quieted. He'd go ter ther United States Government an ther would be another investiga tion into ther Mormon Church." "He is a fifte young man," said another of the Mor mons. "Perhaps he himself would be willing to join the true faith." "I wouldn't trust him." "You know, Brother Crane, that it is our m1ss1on to get converts-men, but more especially women. If this young man joined us we could succeed better in getting other maidens that we have planned to bring into the true faith." "Ask him an' see if he wants ter said Cran e. "I'm in favor of wipin' him out right away." The Mormon went over to the young rough rider and looked do.wn into his face. Ted had heard a great deal of the Danites, as a certain sect among the Mormons are called. He knew that they practiced polygamy still in Utah. He had heard that the Mormons made a practice of car rying off women from all parts of the country, but he had never believed the story. He thought that such practices were a thing of the re mote past. But now he saw that it was true. Crane had determined to marry Ethel Winters by force if necessary. He knew that he could not manage to carry her off by himself, but he also knew that if he had the support of the Mormon Church he wou,ld be able to do it. For that reason he had joined the Danites. Ted Strong had listened to the conversation that had just taken place with a good deal of anger. When the pale face of the Mormon looked down into his he felt a feeling of great disgust for the cowardly sect that made a practice of kidnaping defenseless women. "Young man," said the Mormon, "you have the choice of two things. The:y are to die or to join the true Church. vVhat is the answer?" "Answer quick, too," growled Crane. The young rough rider felt certain that no matter whether he was willing to join the Mormon Church or n o t Crane would try to have hir killed. Crane was afraid of offending his companions, or he would have in sisted on his death then and there. D o y ou s w ea r t o j o in th e Mormon Church?" a s k e d the Mo rm o n "I won't swear an y thing of the kind," said the youngrou g h rider. "What?" "You heard me." "You refuse?" "Emphatically." "You know that the alternative is death." "I don't know an y thing of the kind I know, however, that I would rather die than join the society of such wretches and villains as you. That is my answer." The Mormon did not seem to be angered in the slightest degree at what the young rough rider had said. His pale, sallow face did not change a line. He stepped back to the side of the road. "Have your way with the prisoner," he said, turning to Crane. "He has refused the light. He has renounced the true faith. He deserves death-and a speedy death." ''I'll give him a speedy one, all right," said Crane. "He won't have ter worry nofie about that. A leetle way along ther road here there is a steep cliff. We will pile him in ther buckboard an' take him up there. When we chuck him offen thet place he'll fall fifteen hundred feet afore he touches ther bottom of ther g.ulch. An' when he does touch it, ther won t be nuthin' left of him but a pulpy mass." A moment later, Ted was lifted and put in the buck board. Oif Jackson was lifted into it, too. Crane got into the front seat and took the reins. At the same time the Mormons led several horses from the trees and mounted. They all carried shotguns, sawed down, across the pommels of their saddles. Wrapped in their long, black coats, with the ir pale, bearded faces and dark hats, they looked ghostly figures. Crane's horse was hitched to the back of the buckboard and the cavalcade started. One Mormon rode behind, and one rode on either side of the vehicle. The boys were tied so securely that they could scarcely move a muscle. A plan of escape seemed absolutely out of the question. If they had been unhed, the deadly shotguns of the Mormons would have brought them down in an instant. The buckboard jolted along over steep roads for some time. Tied as he was, and lying on his back on the floor of the vehicle, the young rough rider had little idea of which direction he was going. He knew that they made several sharp turns and passed up a trail that was overshadowed by trees-that was all. He lay on his back perfectly silent, saying not a word. With Jackson it was different. The events of the day had been too much for the nerves of this boy.


" 18 THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. He seemed t o be fri g hten ed h alf out of his wit s He talked inc essant ly, begging Crane to se t him free and to spare his life, and promi sing to do anything that he wanted. "I'm willing to join the Mormon C hurch. I'm willing t o do anything at all," h e cried. "Don't kill me. Don't murder me. I cannot bear t o die. Set me free. L e t me join the Mormon faith. I will h e l p you to ge t the gi rl ou t of here. I will h e lp you t o capture othe r women." "We want no cowards in the Danite band," said one of the three Mormons. "None such as you may be with us." "But spare my life, then." His voice rose to a wild shriek. Crane rode in th e fr on t seat of the buckboard and l ooked dow n at him "Shut up," he said. "I won't listen ter th e t g ibb e rish any long e r ." He struck th e boy heavil y acros s the face with the back of his hand. Clif Jackson groaned and became quiet. "That's b etter!" said Crane. "Now don't let me hear no more yells fr om you. I told you that you wouldn't be killed "But set me fre e Please se t me free. These ropes are too tigh t. They are cutting me. Set me free!" pleaded th e boy. "Yer'll have ter stand ther ropes fer ther presen t. We haven't time ter fix yer as c omfor t ab l e as ye r might wis h. "Set me free, th e n." "We'll set yer free when we get good an' r eady I told yer thet yer wouldn't git killed, although yer such a coward as ter deserve it. For ginira l wuthlessness, I never met yore equal. We'll l o ck yer up fer a while, an' yer'll gi t free some time." "I'll starve to death locked up there. My parents are expecting me to l ea ve the town this aftern oo n." "I cain't help thet. Yer parints 'll be disappointed, I expect. Shut up, now !" Jackson started to speak again, but Crane struck him savagely He became silent although the yo un g rou g h rider knew that he was still half crazed with fear. A few moments later the buckb oa'rd came a stand still. "Here we air!" said Crane. "Now brothers, yank this here young rough r ider outer the r ig an' l et hi m see where he is Rough hand s grasped the youn g rough rider. He was lifted out of the buckboard and set upon his feet. He had an opportunity t o l ook about him. The s ight that h e saw was one that would have paled the face oi., anyone. He was on the very edge of a precipice around which the narrow trail wound Below him was a sheer drop of hundred s of feet. There were valleys and mountains stretched out before him for a great distance The cliff at his feet was a sheer drop. It was down this that Crane intended to drop him. Crane, him self, stood b es id e the young rough rider and leer ed into his face. "Yer h as been fightin' me fer a long time, rough rider," he said, "but th e r end has come n ow Yer dies here, and there is northing more to it." "There is a whole lot more to it," said the young rough rider. "You will find that this is only the beginning of it." "Yer has pluck anyways," said Crane, in half-admir ing tone. "But yer is too much of an enemy ter me ter be let Ii ve Ted was ab l e to turn his h ead around, and he glanced at th e three Mormons Their pale faces seemed to wear n o expression whatsoever, save or.e of steady gloom. They were st ran ge), indeed. To the young rough rider they seemed more like ghosts than men. "Are you goi n g to allow me to be murdered this way?" he said, addressi n g them. "I had heard that the Danites, in spite of all that has been said against them, made a pretense o f Christianity and had some moral law." There was not the slightest change of expression on the faces of these men. "You will find that you are making a mistake," he said. "I have many friends. Murder will out. This will be a bad thin g for yo6 and you r r e ligion." "Silence said Drone, in a low, impressive voice. "Your doom is sealed. You have dared to fig ht against the sa ints of Mormon. By the law of the Danites yo u mus t die!" "Come on boys," said Crane, grasping the shoulder of the young rough rider. "Heave him over." CHAPTER VIII. WITHIN AN INCH OF HIS LIFE. "Say, brothers," said Crane, as the four grasped h o ld of the bound form of the young rough rider. "There is something in what this feller says If his b ody is found here an' it is thort that he was done away with this way, th ere will be trouble "vVhat does it matter?" isaicl one of the Mormons "The rules of the Latter-Day Saints must be obeyed 'The young rou g h rider has already the ban of the death ang e ls upon him ." "That's ri g ht, he must die, all right. But we must make it so that no one comin' up h e re ter l ook fer him will think that he was murdered. I have a plan." "What is it?" said Drone.


THE YOU G ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. "Vv e must tak e th e se rop es o ffen him afore we pitch him d o wn. "It dangerous. He will strugg le." "Let him s tru g gle. We'll throw him overboard, all right. Then there will be nothing ter show that he didn't come ter his death by fallin' off by hisself. Ther won t be no bull e t marks an' ther won't be no ropes ter show thet we had an y thin ter do with it." "I see no reason why we should fear discovery. The saints fear no one." I do, I tell yer. This here young feller is known throu g h all ther \l\T est. He has a hull lot o f friends who will flock to look fer him. Ther'll be a hue an' cry all over ther country if it is discivered thet he i s murdered. He's too well known ter be snuffed out w ithout raisin' a disturbance. Ther government at Washington will it in hand." "All right," said Drone. "Do as you suggest. But it is dangerous." "Be all ready ter push him over when I cuts ther cords said Crane. The young rough rider felt the hands that held him take a tighter grip upon him. He nerved himself for a last struggle, although there seemed not the faintest hope for him. He knew that it would be no use to plead with Crane. Crane was anxious for his death. The young rough rider had fought him and he wanted to kill him. As for the Mormons, they seemed to have neither mercy nor any other feeling. They had described themselves as death angels, and the young rough rider had no doubt that they belonged to this famous committee of their church which was formed for the purpose of killing such people as had incurred the displeasure of the Latter-Day Saints. The young rough rider knew that the death angels never failed to carry out the decrees of the Church. He felt the cords at his feet loosening, and at the same time Crane straightened up. Now was the time The young rough rider lashed out with one of his feet. It caught Crane in the stomach. Crane was taken by surprise. He fell backward. For a moment he seemed to be falling over the edge of the cliff, which he had planned to throw the young rough rider over. He managed to save himself by clinging tight with his hands, and he pulled himself up and collapsed on the ground. Ted was paying no attention to him. He had wheeled around after delivering the kick. His feet were free, although his arms were still bound. H e dived with lowered head, straight at the three M o r mons who held him. H i s head struck one in the chest, and he staggered backwa r d and fell. The other two clung to the young rough rider and pu s hed him over toward the edge of the cliff. They were tall and strong. They stopped the of the young rou g h rider and lift e d him clear from his feet. "Over with him!" gaspeq one. "Carry him to the edge and drop him over." T e d was s wung through the air. He was on the very edge of the cliff now. He kicked at the Mormons, striking one of them on the kn ee. At the same time a rifle cracked far up amon g the trees. The Mormon dropped on the edge of the cliff. Another rifle cracked and the other Mormon let go his h o ld on the young rough rider. T e d was left on the very edge of the cliff. His hands were bound, but he managed to roll over to a p o sition of safety Crane was on his feet now and rushing toward him, but th e r e was another crack. He stopped. He had been shot in the arm The three Mormons had turned to face the wooded hill that rose behind them. The shots had come out of the trees. They drew their revolvers and started to fire. But there was nothing to fire at. A dozen sharp cracks came out of the trees. A perfect hail of bullets fell about the four. They were panic stricken. They fired a flying volley into the trees and then scram bled for their horses. One of them made a kick at the young rough rider to push him over, but Ted had rolled further away. Another rattling fire came out of the trees. This time it was from a point further down. It seemed as if the whole woods were filled with men. "They have us surrounded," cried Crane. "This is the only way out." He clapped spurs to his horse and was off down the trail. The other three were after There was another report or two as they turned a nearby bend. They were out of sight now, and the young rough rider heard their hoofbeats grow fainter and fainter. He l oo ked at the trees to see who it was that had fired thus opportunely and had corr.e to his rescue just in time. He had been watching the dir e ction of the bullets, and he felt sure that it was one or two men at least who had done all the firing.


20 THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. The Mormons did not notice this in th eir panic, but the young rough rider had seen that almost all the shots were fired from one point, and that they never came in volleys. They came as fast, one after another, a s a repeating rifle could be worked, but no two of them were dis charged at the same time. He was at a loss to know who the person was; but when a figure did appear, he almost cried out in his sur prise. It was Ethel Winters Her hair was hanging loose about her shoulders. Her hat was gone, and her short walking skirt was torn with briers. Her face was flushed and glowing with triumph, and her blue eyes were sparkling. In each hand she carried a rifle. She came straight for the young rough rider, and a moment later he was free. She had cut l;iis bonds. "There, Ted," she said, "I waited to the last moment, but now you are safe." Her eyes seemed to be swimming with a light that the young rough rider had never seen in them before She swayed toward him. Ted had her in his arms, and had ki1tsed her full on the lips before he knew what he was doing. Her lips met his, soft and warm, and for an instant her arnis clung close about his neck. I Then she drew away from him, covered with blushes and turning her eyes in every direction, save to meet those of the young rough rider. "Ethel!" said Ted, still beside hims elf with surprise and the thrill that the soft, warm lips of the gfrl had' sent through his whole being; "you saved me!" "I came just in the nick of time," said the girl, smil-ing upon him. "Yes, but how? I thought that you were a prisoner." "I was a prisoner, but I escaped." "From the cabin where they put you?" "Yes." "How did you do it? Tell me." "It was easy. They forgot that I was a mountain girl. They did not remember that I had b e en brought up in these hills here, hunting and trapping. I know them a g ood deal better than Steve Crane does, although he thinks that he knows their every pass." "How did you get out ?-and how did you get here?" "It was easy, Ted. I am stronger than ordinary girls. My father used to call me a tomboy. I guess I am more of a man than some boys I know"-s he cast a dis dainful glance at Jackson, who still lay bound in the buck board which the Mormons had left behind in their flig ht. "There was a window in the cabin. It was high abo v e my head. They never thought that I could reach it. But I did. I leaped up and caught it by my hand s I have been living indoors in Cimarron so long like a civilized youn g l a d y that I thought that I might have forgotten how t o do it." "You haven't forgotten?" "No; I tore my dress and lost my hat. My hair all came down. I am ashamed to have you see me this way. You will think that I am dreadful." "I don t think it." Ted knew that there was no use trying to express all that he felt and thought in words. He looked at the girl, and that look told her. Her eyelids dropped, but she smiled happily. "I got out, and I took with me these two rifles which I found in the cabin, as well as this belt." She pointed to a be]J:. filled with cartridges, which she had stra'f>ped twice around her waist. "But how did you come here?" "I knew a path that would take me to the trail where we were attacked. I was dragged out of the carriage by one of the Mormons, who leaped up behind, while you were holding 'in the horses. I started back there, but on my way I saw, down through the trees, that they were bringing you back here. It had been my plan to get down to Cimarron, but when I saw you a prisoner I took a short cut that I know. I got here just as they were starting to throw you off." "And you fired all those shots?" "Yes; you know that I can handle a rifle. The first time that I ever saw you I thought that I could beat you at shooting, but you beat me. Do you remember?" "Of course I remember." "I didn't shoot very well. I fired all the shots as fast as I could, running along to make th e m think that the re was more than one person in the trees." "You shot to the purpose. But we must go. Here is the buckboard. Vv e can start for Cimarron in that." "And the sooner we start the better. If the Danites go to the cabin they will find out the mistake that they have made." "How long will it take them to reach the cabin?" "An hour at least. They do not know the short cut that I knew and took to this spot. The y will ride around by the road." "Then the sooner we start the better." The young rough ri .der stepped to the buckboard and set Jacks on free from his bonds. The boy was pale and shivering, and looked positively sick. He did not face the gaze of the girl, who turned her head away from him. Ted felt a certain sympathy for him. "Get in the back seat," he said. "It will not be long now till you are safe in Cimarron." They all climbed in, and the girl took the reins, w h ile the y oung rough rider, with a rifle laid across his knee, scanned the hills for any sign of the Mormon kidnapers.


THE YOU JG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. 2I CHAPTER IX. THE WARN I NG. Early next morning the young rough rider knocked at the door of Mrs. Meeber's house, where he had left Ethel the night before. As he did so something fluttered from the knob of the door and fell to the ground. It was a folded sheet of paper The young rough rider picked it up and looked at it, for there was something written on it. vVhen he started to read it, he saw that it was addressed to himself. Printed on it in rough characters were the following words: "To Theodore Strong, otherwise known as the young rough rider. Warning! "You have incurred the enmity of the Mormon Church. You are marked in the book of death. Soon e r or later the death angels will come for you. When they come you will find that you must answer their summons. There is no escaping the m when th ey have visited you. You escaped yesterday, but the trick that saved you is now known. The death angels are watching you all the time. They see your every movement. There is no eluding the Great Eye that seeth ever y thing. Thereis one chance offered to you. If you do what we command you ,may escape Leave this house. D o not enter it. Do n o t speak to the girl who lives here. Do not attempt to help her in her resistance of the Latter-Day Saints. In that way you may escape. Heed the warning and live. Dis obey it and die!" Ted Strong read this letter throu g h twice, and then glanced around him sharply. "If they. are watching m e all the time I will find out where they are now," he muttered to himself. The land was fiat and open for a little way around the house, but at a distance of several hundred yards there was a clump of bushes. Ted fixed his eyes on this clump of bu s hes. He thought that he saw an outline of a figure beh ind it. He did not hesitate a moment, but pulling out his re volver, started for it in a hurry. It is the habit of the young rough rider to m ee t his foes halfway when they come for him, and it is a habit that sometimes has a very disconcerting effect on the foes As he neared the bush, a figure leaped out of it. It was the kind of a figure that the young rough rider expected to see-that of a pale, bearded man, clad m a long, black and wearing a black, slouch hat. This man did not appear to want to see the boy. He darted away, and a second later was on th e back of a horse, which had been tethered under the trees a little way behind him. Ted could see him ride off at a gallop. It was too far to try a shot with a revolver, and the young rough rider never wasted ammunition. To run after the Bying figure w ou ld hav e been us e l ess. All th a t Ted could do was to watch the horseman until he disappea r ed over a rise in the prairie. Then he turned back toward the h o use of Mrs. Meeber. "Thi s is in accord with what I heard in the town,'' he said to himself. "The Mormons have evidently de termined to capture the girl. The wires are cut between this town and the next, and the fact that the railroad has been stopped running for a washout and that no trains will get here for over a week, will help them all th e more. There are few men in the town, as most of th e inhabitants are away in mines or on ranches. Ethel is in greater dange r than she thinks." He knocked at the door again, and this time it was flung open Ethel herself V\las at it, smiling and fresh. "I heard you knock before ," she said. "But I was not dressed You are up early this morning." "I thought it best to get out early," said the young rou g h rider, closing th e door and stepping inside. "What is the matter?" "I just came around to tell you that the Danites have not given up the hope of getting their hands on you "What? Have you seen them again?". "I just chased one from behind the bush out there. He got away from me, though." Ethel turned a shade paler, and the smile left her face. The thou ght of the relentless wa y in which these Mor mons pursued their prey was enough to shock anyone. She had heard of the secret society of the Danite Kidnapers and she kn ew that they had the reputation of ne ver l ea ving the pursuit until their object was attained. Cimarron was a lawless town at the best, and the fact that there had been a washout on the railroad a short distance away, made it further from civilization and help than ever. "What is that that you have in your hand?" she said, looking narrowly at the grave face of the young rough rider. Ted spread the paper out on the table, and allowed her to r ea d it through. "Oh, Ted!" she cried, when she had read it. "You are in danger! You must leave m e !" "I'll leave you when you are out of danger-if you want me to. But not before." "They threaten your life "Threatened men live long." "But I must not drag you into this. Let take me, or l e t me escape as best I can. I cannot bear to think of you falling into their hands, Ted." I cannot b ea r t o think of you falling into their hands And yo u are not going to either: : "But I mu s t not drag you into this thing. It may mean your life. They say that the Danites always kill those who oppose them."


22 THE YOUNG ROUG H RIDERS WEEKLY. Yo u saved m y lif e Bu t t h e y will n o t kill m e o r ge t y o u e ith er--" "What i s that?" The r e w as a sou n d lik e a l o ud kn oc k o n th e door. Ethel. started toward it, but the yo un g rou g h h e ld her back with one hand. "Stay wh e r e you are, he said. "The r e i s d a n ge r. And do n o t g o n ea r th e w ind o w s "Be care ful, Ted, s a id Ethe l as the young rou g h rid e r stepped over toward th e d o or. Ted was careful. He half e xpect e d t o find so m e on e at the d oor wh e n he flung it open He stood behind it, and, drawing his rev o lver with one hand, nois e lessly slipped the b o lt s with the o ther. The n with a sudden mov e m e nt h e flung th e d oo r ope n wide standing b e hind it and r ea d y to fire fr o m his van tage coign at an y one who might attempt to enter. But there was no one there. The porch was bare, and there was no one in sight any w here about. Thrust in the do o r howev e r, as if it h a d been cast into it with a skillful h a nd was a bowie knife. To the handle of this knife was tied a slip of pape r The young rough rider, with a sharp twist, pull e d out the knife. It was driven nearly half an inch into the soft wood. The hand that had .thrown it was stron g H e closed the d oor quickly and ste pp e d in s ide a g ain. He drew Ethel close to him in a p os itio n where she would be out of ran ge o f any of the wind o ws. The n h e untied the pi e ce o f pape r fr om the handl e o f the knife and th e y read it t oge th er The message that it c o nta i n e d wa s printe d in the same larg e t y pe as the former m essage from th e Dan ite s It was short and to the point. It was as follows: "Warning-The first warning is di s reg ard ed. This is the last. If you do n o t l ea v e that h ouse w ithin ten min utes and go to C imarron a n d th e r e wai t i n th e h o tel d e ath will be your porti o n The D eath A ngel! Whe n th e y had sc an ned thi s m ess a g e the g irl w a s p a l e and troubl e d while the yo un g rou g h r ider h a d a confid e nt smile o n h i s face. "Leave m e T ed," she said. "Save your life." "Listen said the young rough rid e r, la y in g his arm on h e r should e r. "Do n o t b e fri g ht e n e d . "This is a plan to fri g ht e n me off, but it will n o t s uc ceed." "But what can yo u d o again s t th e D a nit e s sin g l e handed ? "I will not b e s i n g l e-hand ed. T wo o f m y fri ends. Be n Tremont and Bud Mo r ga n will a rri ve h e r e o n th e Pueblo c oa ch in an h our. They we r e t o meet m e h e r e b y a p pointm ent, althou g h wh e n I mad e th e a ppo intment I d i d not think that I would need them in this way." "But w h a t ca n we d o? "You mu s t l e av e thi s to w n a t o nce." H o w can I ? The rail roa d h as sto pped runnin g "The !=Oach for Puebl o l e a v es i n a littl e whil e " I kn ow. It pa sses th e h ouse h e r e I c o uld get o n easil y enough. But th ey mi ght atta ck the coach. "That is wh a t th ey w ill d o-I h o pe. Then we will ca t c h th e m. My fri e nds w ill b e o n th a t c o ach. I will ri de be hind a n d ou t o f s i g ht. The D a ni te s will me e t w it h a s urpri se, I th i nk. "But yo u can n o t c o mmunicat e w ith your fri e nd s " I ca n. They w ill c o me h e r e I l ef t w ord for th e m t o c o m e up o n the c oa ch a s if th ey w e re passeng e rs. I can s ee th e m h e re. " Y ou planned this all out b efore?" "Yes ; I did n o t s leep la s t ni ght till I had se ttle d wh a t was to b e done in this matter. Are all th e doors l o ck e d ? ' "Yes. "Then g o upstairs and tell your cousin that you mu s t b o th lea v e o n tne coach. T ell h e r what ha s h a ppen ed, a n d hurry There is not muc h time fo r yo u t o get your bags p a ck e d up. "But in Pueblo, where s hall w e stay ?" I have friends the r e w ho will t a k e care of yo u. U p s tairs, n ow ai:d hurry!" I'll be quick, said the gi rl, wh ose c o nfidence h ad r e turned wh e n she saw ho w c oolly th e yo un g rou g h r ide r treate d the matter. "But b e ca r e ful, Ted. D o n t g o n ea r an y o f the window s "I'll be careful. But d o n t yo u b e fri g ht e n e d if yo u h ea r a shot and som e b ro k e n g l ass dow n h e r e "Wha t are you goin g to do?" "Pl a n a little trick on th ese D a n it es tha t i s all. Bu t hurry The g irl s lipp e d out o f the ro o m and left the young rough rider alone. CHAPTER X. FOOLING THE MORMONS. "1\ow mused T ed, w hil e a sort o f g rim s mile pl ay e d about hi s m o uth I will see i f I ca nn o t foo l th ese D a n it es w i s e as th e y t hin k t h ey a r e I t h i nk th a t they ca n b e foo l e d I thin k th a t th e G r ea t Eye th a t t h ey t a lk ab out goes t o s leep o n ce in a while, and that thi s i s on e o f the tim es." As h e mutte r ed thi s t o him se lf t h e yo un g rou g h rid e r was g o ing t hro u g h a p erfo rm a nce t h a t wo ul d h ave su r p i s e d Ethe l a n d h e r c o u sin had th ey s een it. H e h ad fir s t cas t a g l a nc e aro un d t h e room a nd see n tha t o n e of t he wi nd ows was protec t ed b y a wood e n shut t e r t h a r was closed o ut side He st oo d a t t his window w h e r e he cou l d n ot be see n fr o m an y pbce wit h out th e h o us e ; bu t w h e re h e co ul d peep th roug h a crack and g e t a view o f w h a t w as going on outsiae.


THE YOUNG RO UGH R I DERS WEEKLY. 23 Ther e was no o n e in s i ght, alt h ou g h th e bu s hes n o t fa r away might h ave con cea l ed seve r a l people easily. Sta ndin g b e h i nd th e s hu t t e r th e yo ung roug h rid e r q u ick l y slipp ed off hi s kh a ki j acket. On a l o un g e besid e him we r e seve r a l c u shio ns. H e pick e d up t wo o f th es e a nd s tuff e d th e m int o th e j a ck e t. He butto n e d th e j acke t a n d t hen p oked i t t his way a n d that until it h a d a close r esemblance to th e s h ape of a human b e in g. He l aid his ha t o n th e t o p o f this dummy th a t h e had mad e and fas t ened hi s b e lt aro un d it, t o make i t still m ore lif e l ike "Now, h e mutte r ed '; \ Ve will see wh e th e r th ese f e llow s are on the lo o kout for m e to app ear at on e of the windows, as I think that they are. The ten minutes that the y g ave me to leave the house is about up." He dro pp e d on hi s kn ees and s lipp e d ove r t o one o f th e op e n w ind ow s, placin g the d umm y in a ch a ir in fr ont of i t. It look e d a s if it w e r e th e young rough rid e r sitting th e re w i th his back to th e wind ow. Fixing it in place he crept back t o his p eep h ole thro u g h th e cr a ck in the s hutt e r an d wa t c h e d A m o m ent l ate r th e r e was a flash and a puff of smoke from th e bu s h. A t t h e s am e t i m e there was a d eafe nin g crash as th e g l ass i n th e window that was not protect e d b y th e shut ter was dash e d to Bind e rs. The figur e tha t' th e youn g ro u g h rid e r had m a de quiver e d The young rou g h rider c o ul d see a round hole in the side of the coa t w he re a bull e t had enter e d the cushions with wh i ch i t was stuff ed. H e r e ached out with his foot so that the figure t o ppl e d t o o ne s ide. 'i Those fellows are good shots," he muttered. "That sh o ws that the y don't miss their aim of.ten. It is only r ight that the m a n that th e y fired at s h o uld fall. They w ill sh o w th em selves now if I am n o t m i s t a k e n." A moment later a black-coated man app e ared, peerin g out from the bush. H e looked c a refully at the h o use and then cr ep t out fu r th e r. He was e v idently on his guard, as he sn e aked clos e r a n d clo s er. H e look e d at th e sh atte r e d w ind o w and as h e s a w th a t th e figure th a t h e supp ose d t o b e th e youn g ro u g h ride r falle n half o v er on the sid e h e ap pea r ed to get mo r e c o ura ge H e stra i g ht e n ed up a nd fire d t wice m ore throu g h the H e had a limp th a t s h owe d th at h e had been hit in the leg. "Take th at!" call e d o ut th e voice o f Ethe l Winters. "And c o m e ba c k w h e n yo u want m o re. The you n g rou g h rid e r s mil e d "Sh e c erta inl y ha s pluck ," h e muMe r ed. "And she is s af e a t pre sent for the Mo rmons will n o t fire at her. The y will t ake h e r alive, if they can. They think that I am dead now a nd th e r e is n o d o ubt th a t th ey will b e back h ere as soo n as th e sp y w ho w as h e re, r e p orts t o th em. The coach will be h e r e be for e t h ey are th o ugh th a t is one good thing. E th e l flu n g ope n th e doo r and looked int o the ro om. She s a w t he youn g rou g h rid e r standing with his c o at off, an d h e r eyes fell o n the dummy tha

I 24 THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS WEEKLY. a nd drive them off. There will be n o clange r for yo u or Ethel and all you will have to do will b e to sit still and watch the fun. That is all. You will be safe inside, and, besides that, the Danites will not fire on you. It is their purpose to take you alive-not to kill you." These words from the young rough rider had a won derful effect on the widow. There was sometl;iing in the presence of the young rough rider that gave her confidence. She braced up at once. When the coach drew up at the door, a moment later, she had her valise packed, and was all ready to start. She was still a liH!e nervous. Before the coach had come to a standstill, two figures had leaped from it and on the porch. Ted opened the door to meet them. The first was a slim, wiry fellow, with a head of !ong, flaxen hair, that would have been the envy of many an actress. The other was a six-footer, muscular and heavy, who had broken all records at hammer throwing when he was at college. The first was Bud Morgan, who, before joining the band of the young rough rider had been a cowboy in the Panhandle. The other was Ben Tremont. They were both dressed in the uniform of the young rough riders. They were trusted friends of Ted Strong, and he knew from experience that he could depend upon them in all emergencieti. "J umpin' sandhills !" cried Bud, taking the hand of the young rough rider, and shaking it up and down as though it were a pump handle. "I air glad ter see yer. Yer look fit as a filly. What's

THE YOUNG ROUGH RIDERS \VEEKL Y. I g u ess, th a t he wanted to leave these h ere diggin 's as fas t a s ever h ; e could. "Now I un derstand why h e l ooked so g lum," sa id Ben. "He looks as if all his friends were dead/ said B ud ''Well; he will have t o take his chances in th e fight i ng. I w ant to give you some instructions about thi s affair." "Are we to ope n fire on th e Mormons just as soon as they show up?" sa id B ud. "No; that is just what yo u are n o t to do. They will pretend that they have some right to th e girl. They will {ry to take her away peaceably." "They will, sure." "And you want t o let them think that they are g oing to get her at first. Pretend that you are and know nothing about the affair." "What will we do thait for?" "To get th em off their guard. As soon as you find you can get the dr? p on th e m do it. And if there is a fight you w ill find that I will show up to take a hand in it." "You bet. Ther young rough rider is allers Johnny on th e r spot." "Who is driving the coach?" "Kid McCa nn. "Good! I know him H e's a good man, and he will help us out in {his. Tell him to step in s id e for a mo ment. Are th ere any other passengers besides Jack son?" "No, not a o n e." All right. Tell McCann I want to speak to him. McCann dropped off his box and stepped inside. After him came Jackson. The two valises containing the clothes of Mrs. Meeber and Ethel were th row n in to the stage, and th e n ithe la dies were h elped in. Ted locked up the house and handed the keys to Mrs. Meeber. The Mormo n s will not disturb your house ," he said. "They are after you and your cousin. After the railro ad runs again and the wires are up ther e will be a train l oad of deputies h ere who will restore order." "Then we'll be able to come back,'' said Ethel. "So lon g, Ted. Be careful of yourself Don t run into un necessar y danger." "All aboard,'' said the driver, climb ing up on his perch "Wh ere are you going to stay?" said Mrs. Meeber t o the young rou g h rider. "In the barn,' said Ted. The driver cracked his whip and the team started off. Everyone on th e coach wav ed a hand while the young rou g h rid e r s tepp e d over to the barn. No one th e re noticed

THE YOUNG ROUGH RIQERS WEEKLY. Ted could see him now, standing in one of the stalls. and that without m y aid the Mormo ns may get the best He measured the distance. It was too far for a leap. of it?" There was a murderous look in Jackson 's eyes. "Up with your hands or I'll fire! h e repeated. Again the weapon clicked. There was nothing that the young rough rider could do but raise his hands. "What are you doing here? he asked coolly He did not show the surprise that he fe1t, and as for alarm-there was not the faintest trace of it in his bearing or countenance. "I want to look you over b efore I talk. Step into that stall there or I'll fire. Ted hesitated whether to obey or not, and Jackson saw his hesitation. "Jf you don't obey, I'll kill you," he said. "I have you in my power. There is no chance of discovery. I mean what I say." Ted stepped into the stall, and th e other stood and looked at him for a moment in silence. "Now," he said, "I have you in m y power. "What do you mean by detaining me here?" "A little joke of mine." "Do you know that the Daniies have planned to attack that coach ?" "I know it." "And I expected to beat off the attack." "Bah You are a big bluff. I'm going to make you look like thirty cents this time. I 'll tell the story to Ethel and s he will laugh at you." "I think that I don't need to tell her any stories about you. She has seen enough of you herself. "I know there is no danger. The Mormons will be beaten before you appear. You will simply not get the g lor y of it, that's all. I'm going to play your own game and get a little g lory myself. "You beat me and humiliated me yesterday," con tinu ed Jackson, after a pause. "I'm going to get square with you. This is only the first of a whole lot of things that I intend to do." Still covering' the young rough rider with his weapon, Jackson r ea ched out with his other hand and dragged the bridl e of the bay horse so that it came out of the stall, and then steppe d out through the stable door. Jackso n was close beside the door now. "So long, he said. I hope you w111 a good time there. He slammed the door as he stepped out. H e expected that the young rough rider would hurl himself against it, and he busied himself in putting in place a piece of wood that ran through a hasp and staple and held it closed. But T ed did not hurl hims elf against the door, as the "I know too. I overheard some of your conother had expected. He had been using his eyes while he versation." "Are you a party to the attempt to carry off th e girl? I thought you had enough of that yesterday." "I had enough of your infernal talk. I listened to that yesterday till I was sick. I don t want to hear any m ore of it." "You'll hear more that you will like still less before you are through," said Ted. "What are you going to do now?" said Jackson, sneer ingly. "What are you going to do?" said the young rough rider. ''I'll tell you what I am going to do," said Jackson, who had been steadily backing toward the door. "I heard the grand-stand play that you were going to make to rescue th a t girl. I will do it myself. I'll l eave you here. It will be a nice, little joke on you. I 'll ride in there and shoot up the Mormons the way that you planned to do it. "Do you know that there are four to one at present, was standing in the stall with his hands above his head. He saw that there wa, s a loft to the stable with a win dow in it. As soon as the door slammed, and the r evo lv e r no longer covered him, he leaped for the top of the stall and caught it in both hands. He swung himself up on it, and c1imbed along the top of th e paPtition t o the edge of the l oft. He clambered out on th e loft, made his way through the hay that was stored there, and threw open th e window silently. He l ooked out and couldt see Jackson b e low him. Jackson had mad e the door fast. He thought that h e had played a neat trick on the young rough rider. He thought that he would be forced to stay in there till some one came to let him out. There was no need for hurry now. \ i\!ith an express i on of great satisfaction on his face, he first l ooked at the revolver that h e had picked up, and thrust it into the side pocket of his coat. Then h e started in to shorten the stirrups.


THE YOUNG RO UG H RIDE RS WEEKLY. Alth o u g h ab out th e sa me height as th e y oun g rou g h you w o uld. So long. If you want to walk afte r the rider, he had not nearly so safe a sea t in the saddle. He was laboring under the wrong impression that short stir rups will give a horseman a secure seat. Ted watch e d him while he shortened the stirrups on both sides of the saddle. He was whistling a tune out of a comic opera. He was so engrossed in what he was doing and in his feelings of satisfaction over the trick that he had just played on the young rough rider, that" he never th ought of looking up. "Good! muttered the young rough rider. "He had his laugh at me a moment ago. I think in about half a c o ach yo u can.' The young rough rider whirl e d his h o rse, clapp e d h i s h e els to its sides and was away like the wind. CHAPTER XII. TED STRONG'S HANDICAP. "I had a handicap in being held up by that fell o w," b.: said, as he galloped off. "The coach must be a good d's tance off now and the Mormons were close behind. It is a race between me and them, with a big handcap agains t me. If this little horse is any good, however, we may g et minute I will have the laugh on him. 'He laughs best there in time." who laughs last.' The young rough rider climbed out of the window and hung by his hands, looking down. He had not made a sound, and Jackson had no idea that a pair of feet were dangling so near his head. Ted saw that the horse was directly beneath him. "I've never tried this sort of mounting b e fore," he muttered. "I think I can make it, though. It will scare the animal some, buit it will scare Jackson worse." He was onl y a f e w inches above the saddle when he let go his hold. His feet landed on it lightly. Then he dropped astride. Jackson came very near getting a kick in the face, and the horse reared high in the air. But the young rough rider knew how to control a hors!'!. Instead of letting iit run, he made the animal waltz around in a sort of a circle. It circl e d completely around the astonished Jackson, who was so dazed that he could only stare in openmouthed wonder. As it did so the young rough rider reached out and snatched his weapon out of Jackson's belt. A moment la t e r he had quieted his. horse and covered Jackson with his gun. Jackson was staring first at the window and then at the young rough rider in wild amazement. His lower jaw was dropped, and his face looked more foolish, prob ably, than it had ever looked in all his life. "I didn t know there was a window," he gasped, without thinking how idiotic the remark would sound. "No, you didn't know it, said Ted, wi th a laugh. "But you know it now. I guess that y o u won't want to tell this story to Ethel as much as you thought that The young rough rider had taken many hard rides, but he had never taken one in which he was in a bigg e r hurry than the present. He knew that with four Mor mons against h i s two friends and the driver, it might prove a very tough fight, and that his presence alone might turn the scale. If he did not get there in time, the Mormons might succeed in capturing the coach and getting away with the girl. He knew that it was a short, sharp dash, and that there was no use 'trying to save his horse. He was acquafuted with the trail over which the coach must travel, and he let the reins lie loose on the neck of his animal. Away he flew across the flat prairie through mattes of tiinber and at length up a long rise. From the other side of th e rise he heard s o unds of firing. He drew his own weapon and drove his spurs into the sides of his horse. "Just in time!" he muttered. "The horse won out." * * * "Here ther come The speaker was Bud Morgan. He was seated with Ben Tremont on the top of the coach. He had been looking back for a long 'time, ex pecting to see the Mormons appear on the trail behind. They had just climbed a long rise and entered a narrow pass on the other side of it when the four black horsemen that the young rough rider had seen pass the Meeber house, hove in sight. They were coming after the coach, there was no mis take about that. Bud's eyes sparkled with joy. If th e re was anything in the world that this dashing cowboy l o ved, it was a fight. The driver cast a glance back.


' THE YOU1rG ROUGH WEEKLY. His horses were going slow and the men behind were coming fast. They drew nearer the coach by leaps and bounds. The three on the roof did not say much. They kept looking backward at the approaching horsemen. Suddenly the coach came to a stop. It had struck an obstruction. The driver wheeled around in astonishment. Still greater was his astonishment when he saw a black coated man blocking the trail in front. He was on foot, and had caught the horses by the bridle. The Danite s tried to close in on the coach but they were met with a !-tail of bullets that se e med to come from a dozen men. They drawing nearer again when a volley of shots and a wild yell sounded in the rear. Nearly all of them were wounded as it was. This new shooting terrified them. It was terrible in its accuracy. Two of them toppled from the saddle. A third horse crashed down, pinning its rider beneath it. The others scattered and those on the coach cheered He covered the driver with a gun. Other figures wildly and poured in a fresh volley. peared from the rocks behind him. Ted Strong dashed into the midst of the Danites, Meanwhile ithe horsemen following the coach spurred forward with wild yells. There were more Mormons than had been calculated upon. Ted had never thought that another ambush would be laid in the trail for the coach. This is what had happened. The young rough rider was nowhere in sight. Those three on the roof of the coach were up against terrible odds. There seemed to be no hope for them. "We're done for," mutJtered McCann. "There' s twice the number that we expected. Our goose is cooked." The others saw the truth of his words. They knew that there was no use trying to fool these fellows into friendliness. If they wanted to fight art all, must fight before the men behind came up. After that there would be no hope. The odds would be too greatly against them. "Up with you1 hands!" called the man who held the horses, and who had slipped out on the trail while those firing as he ca:me. A shot struck Crane's horse and it toppled. They scattered before hirri. A few moments later the victory was won. The only Mormons lef.t were those who lay wounded on the ground. The others had scattered into the hills. They never knew that it was one boy who had turned the tide of the battle. They thought in the confusion that he had been lead ing others behind him. The speed with which he fired made them think that the re were at least a dozen firing at them. The coach arrived in Pueblo that ni ght with a wounded driver, a pretty girl, a comely, middle -aged woman and three handsome fellows clad in khaki on the ro of. Inside the coach were five wounded men, all pris6ners. Crane was not among them. His horse had been shot down by the young rough rider but he had escaped on foot. on ithe trail were looking behind. "Resistance is useless. Those who were captured were turned over to the The word of the Danites is law." United States authorities and afterward tried and sen"Put up a fight," whispered Bud. The driver reached for his shotgun, and, at the same time, the man who was holding the horse fired. Other shots sounded out behind him. There was a rattling volley of them. McCann fell forward on his seat. Bud and Ben opened fire at the same instant, and every shot of theirs counted. There was a regular fusillade, the two on the coach crouching down and trying to find what shelter they could. They fired in all directions, swinging their revolvers about. As the four horsemen came up, they met with a volley that made them scatter. Then the fighting became fast and furious. tenced to long terms. Ethel and her cousin enjoyed a delightful visit to Pueblo with the three young rough riders to show them the sights. When they got back to Cimarron, the town was policed by a vigilance committee which had already succeeded in rounding up several Danites. Jackson was there no longer. He had started for the East as soon as the trains were running again. THE END. Next week's issue, No. 50, will contain "The Y oung Rough Rider' s Daring Climb; o r, The Treasure of Copp e r Crag."


YOUNfi ROU6H RIDERS-WEEKLY 1-Ted Strong's Rough Riders; or, The Boys of Black Mountain. 2-Ted Strong's Friends; or, The Trial of Ben Tremont. 3-Ted Strong's War Path; or, The Secret of the Red Cliffs. 4-Ted Strong's Stratagem ; or, Saving a Boy's Honor. Strong's Ride for Life; or, Caught in the Circle. 6-Ted Strong on the Trail; or, The Cattle Men of Salt Licks. 7-Ted Strong in Montana; or, Trouble at the Blackfoot Agency. 8--Ted Strong's Nerve; or, Wild West Sport at Black Mountain. 9'-Ted Strong's Rival; or, The Cowboys of Sunset Ranch. IC>-; Ted Strong's Peril; or, Saved by a Girl. II-Ted Strong's Gold Mine; or, The Duel at Rocky Ford. 12-Ted Strong's Lawsuit; or, Right Against Might. 13-Ted Strong's Railway Trip; or, An Unsolved Mystery. 14-Ted Strong's Mission; or, Taming a Tender foot. 15-Ted Strong's Might; or, The Cross Against the Sword. 16-Ted Strong's or, The Golden Mesa. 17-Ted Strong in the Chaparral; or, The at Las Animas. 18--Ted Strong's Forethought; or, King of the Mesa. Strong in the Land of Little Rain; or, Bud Morgan s Vengeance. 20-Ted Strong's Water. Sign; or, In Shoshone Land. 21-Ted Strong's Steadiness; or, The Cattle Rustlers of Ceriso. ::112-Ted Strong's Land Boom; or, The Rush for a Homestead. 23-Ted Strong's Indian Trap; or, Matching Craft with Craft. 24-Ted Strong's Signal; or, Racing with Death. 25-Ted Strong's Stamp Mill; or, The Woman in Black. 2&-Ted Strong's Recruit; or, A Hidden Foe. 27-Ted Strong's Discovery; or, The Rival Miners. 28-Ted Strong's Chase; or, The Young Rough Riders on the Trail. 29-Ted Strong's Enemy; or, An Uninvited Guest. 30-Ted Strong's Triumph; or, The End of the Contest. 31-Ted Strong in Nebraska; or, The Trail to Fremont. 32-Ted Strong in Kansas City; or, The Last .of the Herd. 33:--The Rough Riders in Missouri; or, In the Hands of His Enemy. 34-The Young Rough Riders in St. Louis; or, The League of the Camorra. 35-The Young Rough Riders in Indiana; or, The Vengeance of the Camorra 36-The Young Rough Riders in Chicago; or, Bud Morgan's Day Off. 37:-The Young Rough Riders in Kansas; or, The Trail of the Outlaw. 38-The Young Rough Riders in the Rockies ; or, Fighting in Mid Air. 39---The Young Rough Rider's Foray; or, The Mad Horse of Raven Hill. 40-The Young Rough Rider's .Fight 'to the Death; or, The Mad Hermit of Bear's Hole. 41-The Young Rough Rider's Indian Trail; or, Okanaga, the Cheyenne. 42-The Young Rough Rider's Double; or, Un masking a Sham. 43-The Young Rough Rider's Vendetta; or, The House of the Sorcerc&s. PIVEC OECNTB AT OR FROM .STR.EET 4l. SMITH, 238 William Street, NEW YORK ............................ .................................. _,J' __ .... / I


158-Buffalo Bill's Cold Chase; or, Running D ow n Redskins on Ice. 159-Buffalo Bill and the Timber Thieves; or, The Camp of the Secret Clan. 16o-Buffa lo Bill's Long Drop; or, Drawing Lots with Death. 161-Buffalo Bill's Blockhouse; or, Old Nick Wharton's Strategy. 162-Buffalo Bill s Canyon Cache; or, The Beauty from Butte. 163-Buffalo Bill and the Great Sunstone; or, The Trick that Trapped the Duke of the Dagger. 164-Buffalo Bill's Wildest Ride; or, The Mon ster Serpent of the Bad Lands' Lake 165-Buffalo Bill and the Greengoods' Cabal; o r, The woman with the Manacled Arm. 166-Buffalo Bill's Lightning Shot; or, The Red Gulch Rescue. 167-Buffalo Bill's Bandit Friend; or, The Mystery of the Black Riders. 168-Buffalo Bill at Bay ; or, The Claim Jumper of Silver Gulch. 169-Buffalo Bill's Dark Drive; or, Manton, the Mountain Mystery. 170-Buffalo Bill's Fair, Square Deal; or, The Duke of the Dagger's D ead Lock. 171-Buffalo Bill's Bold Brigade; or, In jun Joe's Burrow. 172-Buffalo Bill on a Hunt for Gold; or, The Lost Mine of the Cimarrons. 173-Buffalo Bill's Ride for Life; or, Fighting the Border Cattle Thieves. 174-Buffalo Bill's Double; or, The Mephisto of the Prairie. 175-Buffalo Bill and the Claim Jumpers; or, The Mystery of Hellgate Mine. I 76-Buffalo Bill's Strategy; or, The Queen of the Crater Cave. 177-Buffalo Bill in Morenci; or/The Cat of the Copper Crag. 178-Buffalo Bill s Dead Drop; or, The Ghost Scout of Colorado. 179-Buffalo Bill's Texan Hazard; or, The War Trail of the Apaches. l8o-Buffalo Bill's Blindfold Duel; or, The Death Feud in Arizona. 181-Buffalo Bill's Mexican Feud; or, The Ban dits of Sonora. 182-Buffalo Bill's Still Hunt; or, The Masked Men of Santa Fe. 183-Buffalo Bill's Fiercest Fight; or, The Cap tive of the Apaches. 184-Buffalo Bill's Navajo Ally; or, The War with the Cave Dwellers. 185-Buffalo Bill's Be s t Shot; or, Saving Uncle Sam's Troopers. 186-Buffalo Bill's Girl Pard; or, The Mystery of the Blindfold Club. 187-Buffalo Bill's Eagle Eye; or, The Battle of the Staked Plains. 188-Buffalo Bill s Arizona Alliance; or, N av ajos Against Apaches. 189-Buffalo Bill s Mexican Adventure; or, The 'White Indians of Yucatan. 190-Buffalo Bill After the Bandits; or, Chasing the Wyoming Bank Robbers. 191-Buffalo Bill's R ed Trailer; or, The Hole-in the-Wall Outlaws of Wyoming. 192-Buffalo Bill in the Hole-in-the-Wall; or, Fighting the Wyoming Bank Robbers. 193-Buffalo Bill and the Bandit in Armor; or, The Mysterious Horseman of the Moun tains. 194-Buffalo Bill and the Masked Mystery; or, The Wild Riders of the Wilderness. 195-Buffalo Bill in the Valley of Death; or, The Masked Brotherhood. I I I I I i i All of the above numbers always on hand. If you cannot get them from your I 1 newsdealer, five cents per copy will bring them to you by mail, postpaid. I I Street & Smith, Publishers, 238 William St, New York I "'I


NICK CARTER WEEKLY I THE BEST DETECTIVE STORIES IN THE WORLD in Broad Daylight; or, Nick Carter on His Own Trail. 384-The Little Giant's D o uble; or, The World's Two Stron g est M e n. 385-The Secret Order of Associated Cro o ks ; or, The Confederated Criminal Trust. 386-When Aces Were Trumps;. or, A Hard Game to Play. 387-The Gambler's Last Hand; or, The Little Giant Wins Out. 388-The Murder at Linden Fells; or, The Mys tery of the Cadillac Needle. 389---Mercedes Danton's Double; or, A Plot for Many Millions. 390-The Millionaire's Nemesis; or, Paul Roger's Oath of Vengeance. 391-A Princess of the Underworld; or, The Mysterious Burglary at Lakeview. Queen of Her Kind; or, A Beautiful Woman's Nerve. 393-Isabel Benton's Trump Card; or, Desperate Play to Win. 394-A Princess of Hades; or, The Reappear ance of Dazaar, the Fiend. 395-A Compact with Dazaar; or, The Devil Worshiper's Den. 3g6-In the Shadow of Dazaar; or, At the Mercy of Vampires. 397-The Crime of a Money-King; or, The Bat tle of the Magnates. 398-The Terrible Game of Millions; or, Tracking Down the Plotfers. 399---A Dead Man's Power; or, The Mystery of a Telephone Number. 400--The Secrets of an Old House; or, The Crime of Washington Heights. 401-The House with the Open Door; or, The Double Crime of Madison A venue. 402-The Society of Assassination; or, The De tective's Double Disguise. 403-The Brotherhood of the Crossed Swords; or, The Little Giant's Mighty Task. 404-The Trail of the Vampire; or, The terious Crimes of Prospect Park. 405-The Demons of the Night; or, The Terrors of the Idol s Cavern. 4o6-The Captain of the Vampire; or, Smugglers of the Deep Sea. 407-A President's Plot; or, Three Vil.. lains of a Stripe. 408-The Master Criminal; or, With the Devil in His Eye. 409'-The Carruthers Puzzle; or, Nick Carter's Best Disguise. 410-Inez, the Mysterious; or, The Master Crim inal s Mascot. 411-The Criminal Queen's Oath; or, The Dif ference Between Two. 412-The Point of a Dagger; or, The Criminal Queen's' Madness. 413-Doctor Quartz, the Second; or, The Great Freight Car Mystery. 414-Doctor Quartz, the Second, at Bay; or, A Man of Iron Nerve. 415-The Great Hotel Murders; or, Doctor Quartz's Quick Move. 416-Zanoni, the Woman Wizard; or, The Ward of Doctor Quartz. 417-The Woman Wizard's Hate; or, A Danger ous Foe. 418-The Prison Demon; or, The Ghost of Dr. Quartz 419'-Nick Carter and the Hangman's Noose; or, Dr. Quartz on Earth Again. 420-Dr. Quartz's Last Play; or, A Hand with a Royal Flush. 421-Zanoni, the Transfigured; or, Nick Car ter's Phantom Mascot. 422-By Command of the Czar; or, Nick Carter's Boldest Defiance. ALL OF THE ABOVE NUMBERS ALWAYS ON HAND. IF YOU CANNOT OET THEM FROM YOUR NEWSDEALER, FIVE CENTS PER COPY WILL BRINO THEM TO YOU BY MAIL, POSTPAID St t & S eth PUBLISHERS, N y k ree ffil 238 William St., ew or


I 1 I I I I -BRA V E AND :BOLO Contains the Biggest and Best Stories o' All Descriptions. A Different Complete Story Each. Week FOLLOWING IS A LIST OF THE LATEST ISSUES: 6r-Backed b y a n Unknow n ; or, Dick Darrell's Hustle for a Living. By Cornelius Shea. 62-All Aboard; or, Life on the Lake. By Oliver Optic. 63-Phil, the Fiddler; or, The Story of a Young Street Musician. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 64-Dick Halladay's P ranks; or, Fun at Strykerville Academy. By W. L. James, Jr. 65-Slow and Sure; o r From the Street to the Shop. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 66-Li ttle by Little; or, The Cruise of the Flyaway. By O l iver Optic. 67-Beyond the Frozen Seas; or, The Land of the Pigm ies. By Cornelius Shea. ; 68--Th e Young Acrobat; or, The Great North Ameri can C ircus By Horatio Alger, Jr. 69--Saved from the Gallows; or, The Rescue of Charl ie Armitage. By Matt Royal. 70-Checkmated by a Cadet; or, Conquered by Chance By Harrie Irving Hancock. 7 1 Nuggets and Nerve; or, The Two Boy Miners. By Frank Sheridan. 72-Mile-a-Minute Tom; or, The Young Engineer of Pine Valley. By Cornelius Shea. 7 3 Seared With Iron; or, The Band of Skeleto n Bar. By Cornelius Sh'ea. 74-The Deuce and the K ing o f Diamonds; or, Two S outhern Boys in South Africa. By the author o f "Among the Malays." 75-Now or Never; or, The Adventures of Bobby Bright. By Oliver Optic. 76--Blue-Bloode d Ben; or, Two Princeton Pals. By the author of "Hal Larkin." 77-Checkered Trails; or, Under the Palmettoes. By Marline Manley 78--,Figures and Faith; o r Messenger Clinton's Chance. By the author of "The Hero of Ticonderoga 79-The Trevalyn Bank Puzzle; or, The Face in the Locket. By Matt Royal. So-T h e Athlete of Rossville; or, The Isle o f Serpents By Cornelius Shea. Sr-Try Again; or, The Trial s and Triumphs of Har ry West. By Olive r Optic 82-Th e Mysteries of Asia; or, Among the Komdafs. By Cornelius Shea. 83-The Frozen Head; or, Puzzling the Police. By Paul Rand. 84-Dick Danforth's Death Charm; or, Lost in the South Seas. By the author of "The Wreck of the Glaurns." 85-Burt Allen's T rial; or, Why the Safe was Robbed. By W. A Parcelle 86--Prisoners of War; or, J ack Dashaway's Rise from the Ranks. By "Old Tecumseh." 87-A Charmed Life ; or, The Boy with the Snake Skin Belt. By the autho r of "Among the Malays." 88--0nly an Irish Boy; or, Andy Burke's Fortunes By Horatio Alger, Jr. 89--The Key to the Cipher; o r T h e Boy Acto r's S trug gle. By Frank J. Earll. go-Through Thick and T hin; or, F o es to the Last. By Walter]. Newton. 91-In Russia's Power; or, How Two Boys O u t witted the Czar. By Matt Royal. 92-Jonah Mudd, the Mascot of Hoodooville; o r Which Was Which? By Fred Thorpe. 93-Fighting the Seminoles; or, Harry Emerson's Red Friend. By Maj Herbert H. Clyde. 94-The Young Outlaw; o r,. Adrift in the Streets By Horatio Alge r Jr. 95-The Pass of Ghosts; or, A Yankee Boy in the Far West. By Cornelius Shea. 96--The For tunes of a Foundling ; or, Dick, the O ut cast. By Ralph Range r 97-The Hunt for the Talisman; or, The Fortu nes o f the Gold Grab Mine By ]. M. Merrill. 98--Mystic Island. The Tale of a Hidden Treasure. By the author of "The Wreck of the Glaitcus." 99-Capt. Startle; o r The Terror of the Black Range By Cornelius Shea. roo-Julius, the Street Boy; or, A Waif's Rise fro m Poverty. By Horatio Alger, ] r. ror-Shanghaied; or, A Wanderer Agains t His Will. By H C. Emmet. ro2-Luke J epson's T reachery; or, The Dwarfs o f th e Pacific. By t h e author of "The Wreck of t h e Glaucus." ro3-Tangled Trails; or, The Mystery o f the Manville Fortune. By Cli fford Park. ro4-Jam es, Langley & Co.; or, The B11y Miners of S alt River. By the author of "Capt. Startle." ro5-Ben Barclay's Courage; or, The Fortunes o f a Store Boy. By Horatio Alger, Jr. ro6--Fr ed Desmond's Mission; or, The Cruise o f the "Explorer. By Cornelius Shea. ro7 -Tom Pinkney's Fortune; o r Around the Worl d with Nellie Bly. By Lieut. Clyde. ro8--Detective Clinket's Investigations; or, The Mys tery of the Severed Hand. By Clifford Park. 109-In the Depths of the Dar k Contine nt; or, T h e Vengeance of Van Vincent. By t h e a u tho r o f -"The Wreck of the 'Glaucus.'" IIo-Barr, the Detective; or, T h e Peril o f L ucy Grav es. By Thomas P. Montfort. III-A Bandit of Costa Rica; or, The S tory o f a Stranded Circus. By Cornelius Shea. II2-Dacey Dearborn's Difficulties; or, The Struggle of the Rival Detectives. By Clifford Park. II3-Ben Folsom's Courage; or, How Pluck Won Out By Fred Thorpe. II4-Daring Dick Goodloe's Apprenticeship; or, The Fortunes of a Young Newspaper Reporter. B y Phil Willoughby. II5-Bowery Bill, the Wharf Rat; or, The You n g Str ee t Arab's Vow. By Ed. S. Wheel er. II6--A Fight for a Sweetheart; o r The Roma n ce of Young Dave Mansard. By Cornelius Shea. II7Col. Mysteria; or, The Tracking of a Cri mi nal to His Grave By L aunce Poyn tz All of t h e above numbers always on hand,. If you cannot get the m from your newsdealer, five cents per c opy will bring theni to you b y mail, postpaid. 1 STRT & SM ITH, Publishers, 238 \Villiam Street, NEW YORK


, \ 'tl' TALES OF DASHING COWBOYS 'tl' The Young Rough Riders Weekly Boys, if you want to know how the boys of the Wes tern plains live and wha t they do, buy and read the stories published in this library. They are long and each one is complete in itself. GREAT NEW SERIES 35. The Young Rough Riders in Indiana ; or, The Vengeance 'of the Camorra 36. The Young Rough Riders in Chicago ; or, Bud Morgan's Day Off 37. The Young Rocgh Riders in Kansas ; or, The Trail of the Outlaw 38. The Young Rough Riders in the Rockies; or, A Fight in Midair 39. The Young Rough Rider's Foray; or, The Mad HoJ:1Se of Raven Hill 40. The Young Rough Rider's Fight to the Death ; or; The Mad Hermit of Bear's Hole 4 l. The Young s Indian Trail ; or, Okanaga, the Cheyenne 42. The Young Rough Rider's Double; or, Unmasking a Sham 43. The Young Rough Rider's Vendetta; or, The House of the Sorceress 44. Ted Strong m Old Mexico ; or, The Haunted Hacienda To be bad from all newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, upon receipt of price, FIVE CENTS, by the pub!ishers Street & Smith, 238 William St., New York


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