Turning, Seldon led him back again, and then the other animals followed slowly, and though nervously, yet without accident.

They were repaid for their fright when turned loose upon the acres of luxuriant grass in the valley.

A fence of poles made a barrier across the narrow entrance of the valley, and so the horses were allowed to roam at will.

A stout cabin was next built, and the two men having made themselves comfortable for the winter, were ready to begin their search for gold, feeling safe once more in their retreat, for who would believe that they had crossed that narrow ridge to find a hiding-place beyond?

And here these two men, so strangely met, with mysterious lives, and both in hiding from the world, settled down to win a fortune from the generous earth, to earn riches that would make them comfortable in their latter years far from the scenes that had known them in other days and to which they dared not return.

Each day they worked several hours in their gold-hunting, and then one of them would take his gun and go in search of game, while the other would do the chores about their cabin.

It was upon one of these hunting expeditions one day that Andrew Seldon found himself belated from having pursued his game much farther than he had thought.

It was some miles back to camp and the sun had long since ceased to send its rays down into the depths of the mighty chasm of the Grand Canyon.

He started back, with his game swung up on his back, and the shadows rapidly deepening about him.

As he neared his old destroyed home he stopped suddenly, for across the canyon a light flashed before his gaze.

"It is a firelight as sure as I live," he muttered.

"What does it, what can it, mean?"

He stood like one dazed by the sight for some time, and then slowly fell from his lips the words:

"It can mean but one thing—that some one has come into the canyon."

After a moment more of silent thought he said almost cheerily:

"Ah! it is Lucas."

But again his voice changed as he added:

"No, he dreads the spot where he was so nearly buried alive and will not go there. Whoever it is, he is a stranger. I must know, for if they have come here to remain, if they are our foes we will be forewarned and hence forearmed.

"I will at once solve the mystery, for I had hoped never to behold a human face here other than Lucas Langley's and my own," and the gold-hunter walked away in the direction of the firelight which had so startled him.

He went cautiously, for he knew well the danger if he was discovered, and the builders of the camp-fire proved to be foes.

He knew the locality well, and that he could approach within a hundred yards of the fire, and discover just what there was to be seen.

Arriving within an eighth of a mile of the spot he halted, laid aside his game and rifle, and then moved forward from rock to rock, tree to tree, armed only with his revolvers.

He now saw that there were three fires, two near together and one a couple of hundred feet apart and off to itself.

The scene of the camp was a small canyon near his old home and on the trail leading to it. There was gold in the canyon, for he had discovered it there and taken some away, while he had marked it as his claim, it having been already staked as one of the finds and claims of the real Andrew Seldon.

In truth, there were a dozen such claims in the Grand Canyon found by Andrew Seldon, all of them paying finds.

Having reached a point within a hundred yards of the camp-fires, Seldon leaned over a rock and began to survey the scene.

The three fires were burning brightly, and beyond the light fell upon a number of horses corralled in the canyon, where there was grass and water. There were brush shelters near, three in number, and about the fires in front of them were gathered a number of men.

Counting them, Andrew Seldon found that there were eight in sight.

There appeared to be no guard kept, and the camp was certainly not a very new one, apparently having been made there several weeks before.

Emboldened by his discovery, the gold-hunter crept nearer and nearer, and then could see that the men were all masked.

This struck him as being a very remarkable circumstance, indeed, since they were clad like miners, some of them wearing beards that came below their masks. All were armed thoroughly.

They were eating their supper as Andrew Seldon looked at them.

Gaining a point of observation still nearer, the gold-hunter obtained a view of the camp-fire apart from the others. A comfortable little cabin was just behind the fire, and a rustic bench had been made near it.

A blanket hung over the door of the tiny cabin, and about the fire was the evidence of a supper recently eaten, for a cup, tin plate, and knives, with the remains of a meal, were upon a rock that served as a table.

Upon the rustic seat sat one whose presence there was a great surprise to Andrew Seldon.

"By Heaven, it is a woman!" he almost cried aloud in his amazement.

Then he determined to get a still nearer view, and after surveying the position, he decided that he could do so by passing around to the edge of the cliff and creeping along it to a point not sixty feet away.

As he, after very cautious work, reached the point he sought, some forty feet from the one at the camp-fire, gazing upon her he muttered to himself:

"It is a young and beautiful girl, and why is she here with those strange men? Who is she, and what is this mystery? I must solve it."

He noted that the single fire was just around a bend of the canyon, and that the men were camped below her.

"This looks as though she was a prisoner. But how did they find this spot, and how dare they venture down that dangerous trail?

"Well, Andrew Seldon the real did it, I did it, Lucas Langley also, and Buffalo Bill and the comrade with him were two more to make the venture, so why not these men?

"But why are they masked, and what does it mean that they have that young girl in their midst? Beyond doubt she is a captive, and yet I dare not communicate with her. It would betray my presence and I would lose all, perhaps my life.

"They do not know of my presence here in the Grand Canyon, and they will hardly find our camp, at least as long as they find gold where they are. Well, I will return to my home and tell Langley of my strange discovery."

After so musing, and gazing the while at the girl, Andrew Seldon was about to leave his position, when he saw a horseman ride into the lower camp. The horse seemed to have been hard ridden, for he came in with lowered head, and that the newcomer was in authority there was shown by the men rising as he approached the fire, while one of them took care of his horse.

"I will see what this arrival means," muttered Andrew Seldon, and he kept his position among the rocks.



CHAPTER XXV.

THE OUTLAW LOVER.

The man who had ridden into camp gave some order, which Andrew Seldon could not hear, and one of those about the camp-fire at once set about preparing supper for him.

There was upon his face a red mask, much as the others wore, but he was dressed in somewhat better style than they, wearing cavalry-boots instead of heavy ones such as his men had on, while his body dress was a velvet jacket.

His hat was a slouch, encircled by a silver cord representing a snake, as the gold-hunter discovered, when he afterward got a closer view of him.

He talked to his men for a few minutes, but what he said the gold-hunter was unable to hear. Then he walked away in the direction of the other fire.

"Now I can know what this means," muttered Andrew Seldon eagerly.

The young girl had certainly seen the man arrive in camp, but she had shown no interest apparently in his coming, and now, as he approached, she calmly remained seated, her eyes, however, following his movements.

As he drew near he politely raised his sombrero and said:

"I hope I find Miss Seldon well?"

"Seldon! She bears the name I now am masquerading under," muttered the gold-hunter in intense surprise.

"Miss Seldon is as well as could be expected under the existing circumstances, of being the captive of a band of cutthroats," was the cutting reply, and the listening man, who heard all, opened wide his eyes.

"You are harsh in your terms, Miss Seldon."

"Are you not road-agents, robbers, and murderers, and are you not holding me here for ransom, after having robbed me of a large sum in my keeping?"

"Yes, such is the case."

"Then why wince under the name of cutthroat? But you have been away for some days."

"I have."

"You have seen your chief?"

"I have."

"And what message does he send?"

"You are to go with me at dawn to the rendezvous on the Overland Trail, where you are to be given over to the one sent by the miners of Last Chance to pay your ransom."

"I am glad of this; but will your chief keep faith, or will he play the traitor for a third time and escape giving me up through some trick?"

"No, for if he did he would surely be run down, as he knows, by the miners, even if your life was the forfeit."

"I hope it may prove true that I am to be ransomed, and I will be ready to go with you; but where is your chief?"

"He is in his other camp."

"Then he has two?"

"Yes."

"Am I to be blindfolded and bound again when you are taking me from here?"

"Such are his orders, Miss Seldon."

"He fears that I, a young girl, may lead a force upon his secret retreat?"

"That is just what he fears, Miss Seldon."

"I only wish I was able to do so."

"Miss Seldon, may I speak a word to you?" suddenly said the masked outlaw, drawing nearer.

"I believe there is no more to say, for I will be ready at the hour you desire to start."

"There is more to say, and say it I will. I wish to tell you that I have been a very wicked man, that I went to the bad when hardly out of my teens, broke my mother's heart by my evil life, and ruined my father financially, driving him to suicide in his despair.

"I came West and tried to redeem the past by becoming an honest miner; but luck went against me, and I at last turned once more to evil and found a band of outlaws. Money came to me in plenty, and at last I drifted into the band that our chief commands, and, as you know, I am his lieutenant.

"He found this mine and sent us here to work it and have our retreat here also. Much gold is coming to us through our work, and also by our holding up the coaches on the Last Chance trail, for he posts us where to be on hand for an attack, as we have what we call the post-office half-way between our camp and his.

"When he made you a prisoner I felt for you, and, as I was the one to hold you captive and bring you here, I grew more and more fond of you until now I must, I will tell you, that I love you with my whole heart and soul, Celeste Seldon."

The young girl had not moved during the time that the outlaw lieutenant was speaking, but now, when he proclaimed his love for her, she arose, drew herself up, and said haughtily:

"And I, Celeste Seldon, abhor such love as you, an outlaw, would feel for me, and command you not again to speak one word to me while I am in the hateful atmosphere of your presence as your prisoner."



CHAPTER XXVI.

THE SECRET OUT.

"Celeste Seldon! It was her name—his daughter's name, and yet the letter said that she was dead! Is this a coincidence, or is she alive, and is this young girl the child of Andrew Seldon the real?"

So mused Andrew Seldon the impersonator, as he crouched among the rocks, his eyes riveted upon the girl not fifty feet from him, and who so boldly faced the outlaw officer who had dared breathe to her a word of love.

The outlaw stood abashed at the manner in which his avowal of love had been received. There was no anger in his look, and he seemed hurt rather than offended.

After Celeste Seldon's indignant response to him he half-turned away, as though to retire in silence, but then reconsidered his determination and said in a low tone full of feeling:

"Pardon me, for I did wrong to think for a moment that an angel would look kindly upon a devil. I love you, and I could not but tell you of it, for you had decided me as to my own course, you had made me see my evil life as it is in all its enormity, and decide to make another struggle to go back to honor and truth."

"This, at least, you deserve credit for, and I trust you may carry out your resolve, for in that you shall have my full sympathy."

"Thank you, Miss Seldon; but I have something more to say to you."

"Well, sir?"

"You are to be given up by the chief on the payment of your ransom."

"Yes."

"I wish I could prevent this robbery, but I cannot, as it is simply beyond my power to do so."

"I do not ask it of you."

"Granted; but your being returned will not end it all."

"How do you mean?"

"You came here for an avowed purpose, as I understand it."

"I did, Mr. Wolf."

"That purpose was to find one who had come West on a special mission."

"Granted again."

"His mission was to find your father, Andrew Seldon."

The listener crouching among the rocks started at this and set his teeth hard, while he awaited the reply of the young girl.

"Yes; he came to find my father, Andrew Seldon, who, I had reason to believe, was in the mining-country about here."

"You have not heard of the young man who came at your bidding?"

"Let me say that he came of his own accord, knowing that a great wrong had been done my father by one whom he believed his dearest friend. He came to find him and tell him all the sad truth; but why am I telling you this?"

"Because you know that I am interested, that I can aid you."

"Can you?" was the eager reply.

"I can."

"Do so, and——"

"And what?"

"I will reward you—generously."

"I seek no reward, ask for none, would not accept any pay at your hands, other than to earn your good opinion and gratitude."

"Well, sir?" said Celeste Seldon coolly.

"Have you found your father?"

"No, I regret to say I have not; but I was interrupted in my search by being captured by your robber chief."

"Do you know what became of the young man who came West in search of him?"

"I had a letter mailed at W—— from him, stating that he had heard of people at Last Chance who might tell him of my father, and that he was going there, and would at once communicate with me.

"I had no other letter, and my communications remained unanswered, even my telegrams wired to Santa Fe and mailed there brought no response. Then I decided to come out here myself, and I acted promptly."

"And you have not found the one you seek?"

"I have discovered that the coach in which he left W—— was held up by your band, that he was wounded, and that though he was placed under the care of one known as Doctor Dick, a surgeon, though his life was saved, his reason was gone, and now he is wandering about the mines of Last Chance, a harmless lunatic."

"He was until lately."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that he was kidnaped several days ago."

"Kidnaped?"

"Yes, Miss Seldon."

"For what purpose?"

"Ransom."

"By whom?"

"My chief."

"Ah! but what ransom can he get from him?"

"I believe you told the chief that you were rich, and this poor fellow is your messenger."

"I think I understand."

"Yes, you will be returned, and then negotiations will be entered into for your messenger's ransom."

"Ah! I am to be still further robbed?" said Celeste, with a sneer.

"Yes, and that is not the end," came the significant reply.

There was something in the response of the outlaw officer that impressed the young girl most strangely. What more could there be in store for her than she had already passed through, which caused him to say that the end was not yet?

The listener among the rocks kept his eyes riveted upon the two, his ears turned to catch every word they uttered.

He now knew that the letter he had received, telling him, as Andrew Seldon, that Celeste, the daughter, was dead, was false, and a fraud perpetrated for some reason upon the absent miner.

"You say that the ransom of Bernard Brandon will not be the end?" asked Celeste, after a moment of meditation.

"It will not."

"What else can there be?"

"A great deal."

"What do you mean?"

"There will be a third demand."

"How?"

"Upon you."

"For what?"

"Gold."

"By whom?"

"The chief."

"What will the demand be for?"

"I'll tell you the truth, as I happen to know it, or, rather, suspect it, from what I do know, have seen, and heard."

"I hope that you will act squarely with me, Mr. Wolf."

"Upon my life, I will, and though I cannot help you now, must even appear to be your foe, in the end I will help you and prove to be your friend."

"I hope so."

"You ask what this third demand will be?"

"Yes."

"Will you ransom Bernard Brandon?"

"Where is he?"

"A fugitive."

"Where?"

"He will be in this camp to-morrow."

"Ah! then I will see him?"

"No; he will not arrive until after your departure."

"I will await his coming."

"That cannot be, for I have orders to start with you to be ransomed, and you are not supposed to know that he has been captured."

"But you have told me so."

"It was a confidential communication, and if you betray me I can render you no further service, for my usefulness will be gone; in fact, I would be put to death."

"I will not betray you."

"Thank you, but let me say that Brandon will be brought here, for two men now have him in charge, and are on the trail here."

"Yes."

"You will be ransomed, and then go to Last Chance. There you will learn of Brandon's mysterious disappearance, and a ransom will soon after be demanded for him."

"Yes."

"You will pay it?"

"Of course I will."

"Then comes the third trial."

"What is it?"

"You will be captured!"

"Ah!"

"It is true."

"By whom?"

"The masked chief of The Cloven Hoofs of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado."

"He will still hunt me down?"

"He will."

"Being forewarned is being forearmed."

"Not in this case."

"Why so?"

"He works in a most mysterious way, and do all you may you will be captured by him."

"And another ransom demanded?"

"Yes."

"And so he will continue to rob me of my gold."

"In this case, the ransom will not be of gold."

"I do not understand."

"The ransom demanded will be your hand in marriage."

Celeste uttered a cry of alarm, and started back with a look of horror upon her beautiful face.



CHAPTER XXVII.

THE DEPARTURE.

The reply of the outlaw officer, telling what the third demand to be made upon Celeste Seldon would be, caused her face to pale and her lips quiver, while her eyes burned brightly with indignation. She stood for a moment in silence, and then asked:

"Do you mean that he will make this demand upon me?"

"I mean that the demand will be made upon you by one who will enforce it."

"Who?"

"That I cannot tell you, more I cannot say to you, yet I will relieve your anxiety by saying that I will protect you, cost whose life it may."

"You?"

"Yes, if you are again captured, though, if I can prevent it, I will."

"But if I am?"

"It will end there, for then I will prove my reformation: I will protect you, and that poor fellow for whom you will have to pay ransom. When I do, I believe I will be able to return your gold, paid in ransom, to you again.

"But, whether I do or not, you will go your way free, and Brandon also, and I will prove that you have reformed me, that my loving you has made me a different man. Now I cannot, will not say more; but remember that through all I will secretly be your friend, though openly appearing as your guard and enemy."

"I thank you, and I will trust you," and stepping forward, Celeste Seldon held forth her hand.

The man put forth his own, as though to grasp it, then hesitated, and said:

"No, I will prove my reformation, my friendship, before I touch you with my crime-stained hand. I will call you at an early hour," and turning abruptly, the outlaw lover of Celeste Seldon walked away.

Resuming her seat, the young girl became lost in thought, while Andrew Seldon, as we shall still call him, after gazing at her for a few moments in silence, turned away from his hiding-place, and crept cautiously back to where he had left his game and rifle.

He knew that his comrade would be most anxious about him, yet he determined to remain there for the night, and see the departure in the morning. He would then know just how many outlaws went with Celeste Seldon as a guard, and how many remained.

So he made himself as comfortable as possible, and sank to sleep, to awake an hour before dawn and see the camp-fires burning brightly.

Creeping to the safest point of observation, from which he could retreat unseen after daylight, should any of the outlaws remain in their camp, he waited for developments.

He had not long to wait before he saw a party approaching on horseback. There was one in the lead, and as he came within a few yards of where he lay, Andrew Seldon recognized the outlaw officer, Wolf.

He held a lariat in his hand that was attached to the bit of the horse following, and upon which was mounted Celeste Seldon.

In the dim gray of early dawn, Seldon saw that the eyes of Celeste were blindfolded, and her hands rested in her lap, as though bound.

Behind her came, in single file, five outlaws, and like their leader, they were masked.

Bringing up the rear were a couple of packhorses well laden.

The party passed on, and then Andrew Seldon turned his attention to the outlaw camp, in which several of the men had been left.

Having discovered this, Seldon then crept cautiously back, picked up his rifle and game, and started off at a double-quick for his own camp, anxious to relieve his pard's anxiety regarding him, and to tell him all that he had discovered.

A man of great endurance, he made a rapid run to his home, and did not feel it in the least. He found Lucas Langley just starting off on a search for him, and the welcome he received was a sincere one.

"How glad I am to see you, Pard Seldon. Surely you were not lost?" he said.

"No, indeed; but have you any breakfast, for I am as ravenous as a wolf, as I went without dinner and supper yesterday, and did not delay to cook anything this morning."

"You shall have something in a few minutes, so wash up, and I'll get it for you."

"And then we must have a talk," said Seldon, as he went down toward the little stream for a refreshing plunge-bath.

"He has had an adventure of some kind, I am sure," muttered Lucas Langley, as he threw a fine steak upon the coals and put some fresh coffee in the pot.

Andrew Seldon's bath greatly refreshed him, and he ate his breakfast quietly, after which he said:

"We'll not go gold-hunting to-day, pard, for I have something to tell you."

"I feel that you have seen some one in the Grand Canyon."

"You are right. I have."

"Are they here to stay?"

"Yes, they think so."

"Who are they?"

"They are masked men, outlaws, belonging, I feel sure, to the road-agent band I heard of when at W——."

"They go masked in camp?"

"They do."

"How many?"

"There are, I think, nearly a dozen of them."

"Tell me of them, and where they are."

"They are camped in the blue-cliff canyon, near our old home, and are working the mine we marked as number two on our map."

"They are here for gold, then?"

"Yes, gold-diggers in their idle moments, and at other times road-agents, making their retreat here, where they deem themselves safe."

"They did not see you?"

"No, indeed; but I got within fifty feet of one of their camp-fires, and where they had a captive."

"Ah! a prisoner?"

"Yes."

"Did you know him?"

"It was a young girl."

"The devils!"

"That is what they are, indeed; but let me tell you just what I discovered, overheard, and saw."

Then Andrew Seldon told the story, and in Lucas Langley he found a most ready listener.

"Oh, that we could rescue that girl!" said Langley, when he had heard all.

"To make the attempt would be but to meet with signal failure now, Lucas."

"I fear so."

"Still, I will see that they are not left long to carry on their work of deviltry."

"I am with you heart and soul."

"I know that well, pard. But they will return the girl for the ransom demanded, and then they will get the amount they claim for the young man they spoke of."

"Yes."

"This will take some days, and in that time I shall act."

"You?"

"Yes, they will lay their plans to kidnap the girl from Last Chance, to carry out this scheme of the chief to have his third demand come in, and right there I shall thwart them."

"But how can you?"

"I will start to-night for Fort Faraway."

"Will you go there?"

"Yes."

"You told me that there were reasons why you would not go anywhere among those who might recognize you."

"It is different now, and necessity demands that I take the risk. I have changed greatly, for my long hair and beard, my glasses and other changes completely disguise me from what I was, and so I will go to Fort Faraway."

"For what purpose?"

"I wish to see Buffalo Bill, and place these facts before him, for we can tell him where to find the outlaws' secret retreat, and I believe that the girl and the young man can be saved and every member of the robber band captured."

"It would be a grand thing for you to do."

"Yes, it is just what I wish to do, to render some valuable service to the Government."

"When shall we start?"

"I will start to-night, but you, pard, must remain here in possession of our mines."

"As you wish, pard; but will you be gone long?"

"Not a day longer than is necessary, pard."

"Well, success go with you," was Lucas Langley's response, and the two men began to make preparations for the start of the one with information of where the retreat of the outlaw band could be found.

Andrew Seldon did not care to take a packhorse, for he wished to make all the time possible, and when the sun went down he was ready for the trail, and, with Lucas Langley accompanying him, he started down the canyon to steal by the robbers' camp.



CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE LONE TRAIL.

Well supplied with food and ammunition, having plenty of blankets along, for the nights were cold, and mounted upon the best one of their horses, Andrew Seldon felt ready to cope with whatever he might have to encounter in the way of hardships and dangers.

Mufflers had been prepared for the hoofs of his horse, that he might leave no trail and make no sound in passing the robber camp, while a muzzle was carried for the nose of the animal, to prevent his neighing and thus betraying his presence to foes.

After crossing the narrow ridge, the mufflers and muzzle were tied on, and the two men stole along, leading the horse, until they came in sight of the camp-fires. Only two were burning now, and about them only a few men were visible.

The two men slipped by unseen with their horse, some eighth of a mile distant from the camp, and having seen his pard to safety, Lucas Langley bade him farewell, with many good wishes for his success, and started upon his return.

Mounting then, Andrew Seldon set off on his lonely and perilous mission. He ascended the hazardous trail, stripped his horse of his trappings upon reaching the deadly cliff which he had to pass around, and got safely by with the animal. Then he brought his saddle and trappings around, led the horse to the top of the canyon rim, and, mounting, set off for Fort Faraway, taking the trail that must lead him by the deserted camp where he had killed Black-heart Bill in a duel, and where the desperado rested in his grave after his tumultuous life of evil.

By rapid riding he reached the deserted camp soon after midnight, and, dismounting, prepared to go into camp.

There was the best of water and grass there, and, to be merciful to his horse, Andrew Seldon did not allow his own feelings to cause him to camp elsewhere when the animal would be the sufferer.

Having watered his horse and staked him out to feed, he sat down upon a log near the wickiup and ate his cold supper quietly.

Then he lighted his pipe and began to smoke with a strange calmness of mien, when it is remembered that there, within a few yards of him, at the base of the quaking aspen whose white trunk looked ghostly in the moonlight, was the grave of the man he had killed, the man who had been his boyhood friend, and afterward his bitterest foe.

Laying aside his pipe, he spread his blankets in the wickiup, and then walked quietly toward the quaking aspen.

There was the mound that marked the last resting-place of Hugh Mayhew, whose deeds of wickedness had won for him the name of Black-heart Bill.

What thoughts crowded upon him as he stood there gazing upon the little mound of earth, knowing that only a few feet below the surface the dead face of his one-time friend was upturned toward him, who can tell?

For some time he stood there, his arms folded upon his broad breast, and his head bowed. At last, a sigh found its way between his set teeth, and he turned away.

Reaching the wickiup, he paused, and mused aloud:

"Well, I am making a bold venture to dare go to the fort from which I fled on the day appointed for my execution, fled to live on here in the wilderness, believed to be dead, yet living, my own name cast aside, and living under that of one I never knew in life.

"How strange this life is, its bitterness, sorrows, realities, and romance, and how strange, indeed, has been my career. Well, what will the end be, I wonder?

"I am taking my life in my hands to venture to the fort, but I must save that poor girl, run down those outlaws, and I can only do it through Buffalo Bill. Now to turn in, for I must get some rest, and will, even in this weird spot."



CHAPTER XXIX.

TO WELCOME THE FAIR GUEST.

The miners of Last Chance were too much excited over the expected ransom of Celeste Seldon, and the thought of soon having a young and beautiful girl in the mining-camps, to devote themselves to steady work, after the situation was known to them.

Then, too, they were greatly disturbed at the mysterious disappearance of Bernard Brandon, the young man whose mind had been destroyed by his wound, and which they could not comprehend, for not the slightest trace had been found of him, with all their searching.

The fact that they had been robbed, and also Celeste Seldon, was another disturbing element, and so it was that little work was done in the mines during the time following Harding's arrival and the day set for Doctor Dick to go out with the ransom money for the young girl whom they all so longed to welcome in their frontier home.

Landlord Larry had set the example of having things spruced up for her coming, and the miners had quickly followed his example, having put their cabins in better condition.

A cabin which the landlord was having built for his own especial use, apart from the hotel, was hastened to completion, and then the very best the hotel could supply was put in it as furniture and to make it attractive to the fair visitor, who was to be regarded as the guest of Last Chance.

At last, the eventful day arrived for the ransom to be paid, and the miners had all taken a peep into the quarters of Celeste Seldon, to see how attractive it was.

Doctor Dick had furnished a number of things, and the miners who had any pretty robes, or souvenirs, did likewise, until it would have been a callous heart, indeed, that would not be touched by their devotion to one whom they had never seen.

The question of an attempt to capture the road-agents had been fully discussed, but dismissed upon the advice of Landlord Larry, Doctor Dick, and Harding, who represented the danger that the girl would be in, at the hands of the merciless masked chief.

That Doctor Dick was the right man to send out with the ransom all felt assured, for if there was any trickery on the part of the road-agents, he was the one to meet it.

Doctor Dick had even offered to go out upon horseback alone, but it was thought best that the coach should be sent for the visitor, and Harding should drive, he having met her.

The miners, however, arranged to meet her with a delegation at the entrance to the valley, and escort her to the hotel.

Every man was to be dressed in his best, and, in honor of the occasion, the saloons were to be all closed.

When, at last, the day arrived, Harding mounted his box and gathered up his reins, Doctor Dick following to a seat by his side a moment after.

The bag containing the gold to be paid in ransom was placed between their feet, Landlord Larry gave the word to go, and the coach rolled away at a rapid pace, followed by the wildest cheering.

The doctor was fixed up in his most magnificent attire. His jewels shone with more than accustomed luster, and there was an expression upon his face that boded no good for the road-agents if they meant treachery in their dealings.

Harding was also rigged out in his finest, and wore a pleased look at the prospect of meeting Celeste again, upon whom he considered that he held a special claim, and yet, underlying all, was an anxiety that some hitch might occur in gaining her release that would destroy all prospect of seeing her.

The coach had been cleaned up to look its best, and a United States flag floated from a staff fastened upon the rear.

The harnesses had been burnished up, and red, white, and blue streamers had been attached to the bridles, so that the whole outfit presented a very gorgeous appearance, and one intended to impress the beholder with the grandeur of the occasion.

And so it was that Doctor Dick went out with the ransom for Celeste Seldon, with Harding proud at holding the reins over the picked team that would take her back to Last Chance.

"Well, Doctor Dick, what do you think of our chances?" asked Harding, when the coach had turned out of the valley and was fairly started upon the trail to the meeting with the masked road-agent chief.

"How do you mean our chances, Harding?"

"To get the young lady?"

"You were the one to make the terms."

"True, and I fear treachery."

"What chance is there for it?"

"We have the money."

"Yes."

"We are but two."

"Very true."

"They have the captive."

"Yes."

"And they can bring many against us."

"Also very true, Harding."

"Now, if the chief means treachery, and has his men there, he can hold us up, get the ransom money, still keep possession of the girl, and there it is."

"He might do so; but I hardly believe we need submit to even half a dozen outlaws, where so much is at stake."

"I'm with you, Doc, in whatever you say do."

"I know that, Pard Harding; but there is another way to look at this affair."

"How is that?"

"If those road-agents were treacherous, as you seem to fear, it would end in their utter annihilation."

"How so, Doc?"

"Why, the miners would send the alarm to W—— and to Fort Faraway, and we would have that splendid fellow, Buffalo Bill, leading a column of soldiers on the hunt for them from one point, another force would push out from W——, and a couple of hundred miners from Last Chance, and every outlaw in this part of the country would be caught and hanged."

"I believe you are right, Doc. I had not thought of the result of treachery on their part, for they would get the worst of it; no, I guess all will go well."

"I think so, and hope so sincerely," answered Doctor Dick, and the coach rolled on in silence for some time, when Harding asked:

"What do you think of Brandon's disappearance, doctor?"

"I hardly know what to think, unless he has fallen from some precipice and killed himself."

"I guess that is it; but now let me give you a warning, Doc."

"Of what?"

"That young girl."

"What have I to fear, pard?"

"If you don't fall in love with her, you are a different man from what I take you to be."

"You have been caught, I see."

"Yes, I'm gone, clean gone; but I guess that is all the good it will do me, for I suppose her lover is that poor fellow Brandon."

"You only think her lovely just because she is the only woman you have seen on the frontier. She is doubtless as ugly as an old maid."

"Just wait and see her, and then say which of us is wrong," said Harding, with a confident smile.

As the coach turned around a cliff, neither Doctor Dick nor Harding saw that there was a man standing among the pinons watching them. He had, from his position, been able to see the coach a mile away, as it wound along the valley, and he had watched it as it approached with seemingly the deepest interest.

He stood erect, like a soldier on duty, one hand resting upon a repeating rifle, the other grasping a field-glass, which he had occasionally raised to his eyes and viewed the coming stage.

He stood like a sentinel, and had been there for an hour or more before the coach rolled into view.

A glance was sufficient to show that the silent sentinel on the cliff was none other than Buffalo Bill, the chief of scouts.

He was dressed as was his wont, and back from the cliff a couple of hundred yards, grazing upon the ridge, was his horse.

But, strangest of all, the scout-sentinel did not hail the coach, did not make his presence known, but allowed it to roll by, himself unseen, as though he wished to keep the fact of his being there a secret, even from Doctor Dick and Harding, his ally and spy.



CHAPTER XXX.

AT THE RENDEZVOUS.

As the coach drew near the rendezvous appointed by the masked road-agent chief, at the Dead Line, Harding breathed hard with suppressed emotion.

He had really fallen in love with the beautiful girl, whom he felt he was in a manner the protector of, and he was most anxious as to the result.

Aside from his regard for Celeste Seldon, her unprotected condition would have won his deepest sympathy under any circumstances.

Doctor Dick, on the other hand, was calm and silent. He had the money demanded, and he had come to do his duty, but was prepared to face all emergencies that might arise.

At last the scene of the tragedies came in view, the cross erected at the Dead Line was just before them, and then Harding grasped the reins, expecting a summons to halt.

No one was visible in the pass, but that was no sign that there was no one there, as Harding and Doctor Dick well knew.

Just as the leaders reached the cross, a voice called out:

"Halt!"

Hard went the foot of the driver upon the brake, and his hands pulled the team to a sudden stop.

Doctor Dick instinctively dropped his hand upon his revolver, but removed it instantly, and calmly awaited the issue.

The coach having halted, the same voice called out:

"Is there any one inside the coach?"

"No one," answered Harding.

"If you lie to me, Harding, your life will be the forfeit."

"All right, so be it, sir; but Doctor Dick and I are all that came."

"Who is following you?"

"No one."

"Did none of the miners come out from Last Chance?"

"Not one."

"You are sure?"

"I am."

"If we are attacked, both you and Doctor Dick shall die, and if the force is large enough to press me hard, I shall kill the girl."

"You need have no fear of an attack; but I only wish we dared make the attempt, for I would like to see every one of you hanged."

A laugh greeted this remark of the driver, and once again the unseen road-agent called out:

"Did you bring the gold?"

"Did you bring the young lady?"

"Answer my question, Harding."

"You answer mine."

"I will reply when I have had an answer."

"If you brought the young lady, as you pledged yourself to do, you can get the ransom money; but if you did not, you will have to fight to get it."

"That is our trade; but the young lady is here."

"Then get her out of your vile company as quickly as possible."

"Where is the money?"

Before Harding could reply, Doctor Dick said sternly:

"A truce to this nonsensical parleying. I have the money, and will pay it over when the young lady is given into my charge, but not before. Where is she?"

The road-agent seemed impressed by the stern words of Doctor Dick, and responded:

"I will go and fetch her, while you turn your coach around."

This Harding at once did, and coming to a halt again, Doctor Dick got down from the box, and the bag of gold was handed to him by Harding.

There was a wait of a few minutes, and then out from among the pines in the pass came a man, followed by Celeste Seldon, a few feet behind him. As she approached the spot, she waved her hand to Harding, and said pleasantly:

"We meet again, my good friend."

"And mighty glad am I that we do, miss. Permit me to introduce to you the boss man of Last Chance, Doctor Dick, and he is here with the money to pay your ransom."

Doctor Dick doffed his sombrero, bowed low, and then stepped forward, as Celeste held out her hand to him, and said in his courtly way:

"I am happy in meeting Miss Seldon and receiving her in the name of the miners of Last Chance."

The outlaw who accompanied Celeste was masked completely, and his form enveloped in a black robe that effectually concealed it. He stepped toward Doctor Dick, and said:

"You, sir, have the ransom money for the return of this young lady?"

"I have gold amounting to the sum demanded."

"See here, Doc, I don't see why we should be robbed by one man, so let us run him in, now we have the young lady, and we will not have to pay the gold," and Harding suddenly covered the outlaw with his revolver.

"No, no!" cried Celeste. "That will never do."

"No, Harding, we must keep faith with him, even if he be a murderer and a thief. Put up your gun," said Doctor Dick.

The masked outlaw had not moved at the action of Harding, but now said:

"You wisely decide, Doctor Dick, for I am no fool to be caught in a trap, and I trust no man, so came prepared to meet treachery if it was intended, and this young lady will tell you that my men are within easy range, and you, Harding, in covering me with your revolver, took big chances."

"I didn't believe you would come alone, and we were fools to do so, for we could have fought it out right here," grumbled the driver, greatly disappointed at his not carrying out his suddenly determined upon plot.

The road-agent then took the bag, opened it, ran over the gold like one who knew its value, and then said:

"Yes, there is the amount here, no more, no less. Ask Miss Seldon if she has not been treated with marked respect."

"I can but answer yes, for I have been; but am I not to have my trunk and side-saddle?"

"Oh, yes, certainly," and the road-agent gave a signal, which was promptly answered by two men appearing in the edge of the pines.

They wore long black robes and red masks, also, and their appearance was proof that their leader had not come alone.

"Bring the baggage belonging to this lady, and her side-saddle and bridle, also," called out the leader.

The men disappeared, and Doctor Dick asked:

"Do you expect to keep up your lawless acts much longer without meeting the fate you deserve, Sir Outlaw?"

"Yes, for the money I get is worth taking big chances for, Doctor Dick, and, gambler that you are, you never do a better day's work than what sum this gold calls for."

"It is a long lane that has no turn, and the turn will come for you some day," said Harding.

A light laugh beneath the mask was the answer, and Celeste Seldon's face wore a clouded expression Harding was not slow to observe.

"Then I am free to go, sir?" and Celeste turned to the outlaw.

"You are, Miss Seldon," was the answer.

She turned to the coach, and Doctor Dick aided her into it, just as the two outlaws came up with the small leather trunk she had brought with her and her saddle and bridle.

Taking the back seat, Celeste leaned up in one corner, as though fatigued, and her baggage having been put on top, Dick and Harding mounted to the box, the outlaws attentively regarding them through the eye-holes in their masks.

"Remember, pards, I still drive this trail," said the driver, with an air of defiance as he gathered up the reins.

"I won't forget, Harding; but I advise you to keep in mind the story of the pitcher that went once too often to the well, for right here some day you may meet your fate."

"If I do, you will not find me flinch from it," was the plucky response, and the driver called to his horses, and the team moved on.

Looking back at the bend, the driver and Doctor Dick saw that the outlaws had already disappeared, while Celeste Seldon, gazing back also, noted the same fact, and murmured to herself:

"What yet is before me, I wonder?"



CHAPTER XXXI.

DOCTOR DICK TELLS THE NEWS.

When the coach had got well away from the Dead Line, Harding gave a deep sigh of relief, for the first time feeling that Celeste was safe, and would not be retaken by the outlaws.

"Well, Doc, she's safe now, and we didn't lose our scalps," he said.

"It is a cause of congratulation all round, Harding."

"Now, Doctor Dick, you have got to tell the young lady about the poor crazy fellow."

"Did you not tell her?"

"That his wound had crazed him, yes; but that is not the worst of it."

"Ah, yes, you mean that he has been captured?"

"I cannot say that, Doc; but he has mysteriously disappeared."

"Well, you wish me to break the news to her?"

"I do, for I can't tell her what I know will hurt her, and it won't do for her to hear it from the men when she arrives in Last Chance."

"I guess you are right, pard, so draw up, and I'll take a seat inside the coach, and tell her the news."

"Be very gentle, Doc, for I have an idea she loves that young man."

"I'll break it to her as gently as I can," was the response, and as Harding drew rein a moment after, Doctor Dick sprang down from the box, and said:

"May I ride with you, Miss Seldon?"

"Certainly, sir, if you desire."

"I have something to talk to you about," said Doctor Dick, as he entered the coach and took the front seat.

"I shall be glad to hear what you have to say, sir, and I desire now to thank you for your very great kindness toward me, while you risked your life in coming out here to serve me."

"Do not speak of it, Miss Seldon, for the miners all chipped in and made up a purse for your ransom, while they are now anxiously awaiting your coming to give you a right royal welcome, for you will be the first lady who ever came to our camp."

"Indeed! this will be an honor; but do you mean that there are none of my sex there?"

"Not one, only rough men, but with noble hearts many of them, so that you will be made to feel at once at home."

"How odd it will be, yet I have no hesitancy in going there, I assure you," and Celeste gazed into the face of the man before her with both interest and admiration.

"He is strangely handsome, a manly fellow, brave, intelligent, yet a dangerous foe, and I wonder what has brought such a man as he to this far-away land?" ran her thoughts.

"Miss Seldon, what I most wished to say to you I fear will deeply pain you," said Doctor Dick, after a pause.

"Let me hear it, sir, for I am becoming accustomed to being pained of late," and Celeste was perfectly calm.

"I was told by Harding, the driver, that you were on your way to Last Chance, to look up a friend who had come here on a mission for you, and who you had feared was in trouble?"

"Yes, and my fears were realized when I learned that the coach in which he was a passenger had been held up, I believe that is what you call it, by road-agents, and Mr. Brandon was so severely wounded in the head that his brain was turned."

"Yes, but that is not all, Miss Seldon."

"Ah! what else is there to tell?"

"He was under my care for a long while, and I did all that I could to restore his reason, except to perform an operation for his relief, which I feared to risk."

"So Mr. Harding told me."

"When his bodily health was restored he left my cabin and roamed about the camps up to a week ago, when he most mysteriously disappeared. We had all the miners out upon a search for him, did all in our power to find him, but in vain, and what his fate has been is only conjecture."

"And what is that conjecture, Doctor Dick, for I believe you are so called?"

"Yes, I am known to all solely as Doctor Dick; but let me answer your question by replying that we believe the poor fellow has lost his life by falling over a cliff."

"Such is not the case, sir," was the reply that startled the doctor. "Mr. Brandon is now a captive of the road-agents."

Doctor Dick gazed at Celeste Seldon in amazement.

"Do you know this, Miss Seldon, or is it only conjecture on your part?" he asked, when he had recovered from his surprise.

He had come prepared to console, but, instead, had found the young girl cool and with apparently knowledge which he did not possess regarding the man whom Harding had said he believed was her lover.

"I know it, Doctor Dick."

"May I ask how?"

"I have just been a captive of the outlaws myself, and in coming here from their secret retreat we met two of the road-agents with a prisoner. The leader had some talk with them, but though I at once recognized Mr. Brandon, I was not allowed to speak with him."

"Did you request it?"

"Naturally."

"But were refused?"

"Yes."

"Was any reason given?"

"Simply that I would not be allowed to, and, if I did, Mr. Brandon would not know me, as he was crazy, while they did not care to have me do so."

"Where was this, Miss Seldon?"

"A short distance after we left their retreat."

"Could you lead the way to their retreat?"

"No, for I was blindfolded and bound miles before reaching there."

"The outlaw chief did this?"

"He was not along, but it was done by his orders."

"Did you not speak to him of it?"

"I have not seen him since."

"Why, was not that the chief who gave you over to me to-day?"

"No, sir."

"I certainly thought so."

"It was his lieutenant, who took me to the retreat and back under his orders."

"And where is the chief?"

"At his other hiding-place, his men said."

"You were well treated, I hope, Miss Seldon?"

"With perfect respect and consideration, sir, I am happy to say, the only indignity being that I was blindfolded and had my hands bound in approaching and leaving the outlaw retreat; but I suppose that was necessary for the safety of the band."

"You certainly take it most coolly."

"Why do otherwise, sir?"

"Do you know the motive of the road-agents in making that poor crazy fellow a prisoner?"

"Money."

"How do you mean?"

"They doubtless captured his baggage, and discovered by it papers that went to show that a big ransom would be paid for his release."

"Ah! they will demand a ransom for him, then?"

"Assuredly."

"The miners will hardly pay it if it is a large sum."

"I do not ask them to do so."

"You do not?"

"No."

"Who will pay it, then?"

"I will."

"You?"

"Certainly."

"Pardon me, but you are a young girl, and——"

"A rich one, nevertheless, Doctor Dick. I sent Mr. Brandon to the West on this mission, and he has met with misfortune. I will pay the ransom demanded, take him East, and place him in the care of the most eminent surgeons, that they may aid him if it is possible. You, as a skilled surgeon, for such I have heard you were, might tell me what you deem the chances are for his recovery?"

"Miss Seldon, the blow of that bullet caused an indenture of the skull, which might be operated upon and successfully raised so as to restore his reason. The chances are ninety-nine to a hundred against success, and only the most skilful surgeon and nervy one could accomplish it, if done."

"Thank you; the one chance in favor shall be taken, for without reason one might as well be dead—yes, far better."

"And you will stand all this expense?"

"Certainly, for it is my intention to pay back to the miners every dollar they subscribed for my ransom, for, as I said, I have the means to do it, and far more."

"You are a plucky woman, Miss Seldon; but see, we are approaching the valley now, and you must prepare for a welcome," and Doctor Dick called to Harding to come to a halt.



CHAPTER XXXII.

THE MINERS' WELCOME.

Harding drew up promptly at the call of Doctor Dick. He had heard the voices of the two within the stage, yet not what was said, and he was anxious to know how Celeste took the news of the disappearance of the man whom she had come to the wild Western frontier to see.

"Do you mean that I shall mount to the box, sir?" asked Celeste, in answer to what the doctor had said after the coach halted.

"I do, Miss Seldon, for the men will wish to see you, and within ten minutes more we will be in the valley."

"Of course, I cannot refuse, sir," and Celeste sprang out of the coach and mounted to the box, taking her seat by the side of Harding, while Doctor Dick settled himself upon her trunk upon the top of the coach.

"Now, miss, we'll make 'em hum," said Harding, and he cracked his whip in a way that sent the team along at a splendid pace.

As they neared the turn into the valley, Harding took a bugle, in lieu of a stage-horn, and played in a skilful manner the ringing notes of "Annie Laurie," intending the sentiment to apply to Celeste, Doctor Dick from his perch the while taking the reins.

The notes of the bugle ringing out, the touching air brought tears to the eyes of Celeste Seldon, who, however, was startled a moment after, as the stage came in sight of a hundred horsemen drawn up in two lines, one on either side of the trail.

They were a wild, reckless-looking lot of rough riders, but the cheer they gave when they saw Celeste on the box came from their hearts.

Their hats were doffed, and as the yells burst from their lips they closed in behind the coach, four abreast, and came dashing along as an escort.

Celeste waved her handkerchief vigorously, her beautiful face flushed to crimson and her lips quivering, her eyes swimming with the emotion that almost overwhelmed her.

"Three cheers for the lady of Last Chance," came in the deep voice of Doctor Dick, from the top of the coach, and they were given with savage earnestness.

Along dashed the coach, Harding lashing his horses into a run and driving with marvelous skill, while behind them thundered the hundred horsemen, yelling like demons in their glad welcome to the first lady to visit their wild camp.

Celeste saw the cabins along the canyon valley, perched here and there upon the hills, and at last discovered the group of buildings that marked the settlement the miners were pleased to call the "City" of Last Chance.

Gathered there was a vast crowd of men, and when the stage came in sight, and three persons were seen on top, with the mounted escort hastening after, the yells of welcome began.

The roar floated down the valley, and reached the ears of Celeste Seldon, and she muttered in a low tone:

"How kind they all are. This is, indeed, a welcome to be proud of, and never can I forget it."

"They mean it, miss," said Harding and he felt just pride in his frontier home at the reception, and the manner in which Celeste received it greatly pleased him.

On flew the horses, and up the hill they dashed, to at last come to a halt before the hotel.

The din was now terrific, for the voices of the horsemen joined in with the miners about the hotel, who, with one accord, drew their revolvers and began to empty them in the air.

As there were hundreds of miners, and all were armed with a couple each of revolvers, the rattling of the fusillade may be imagined.

Celeste bowed right and left, waving her handkerchief, until Landlord Larry aided her to dismount and led her into the hotel, and the welcome was at an end.



CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE COUNCIL.

Celeste Seldon was not one to put on airs. She had been well reared, was refined, lovable by nature, plucky enough for a man, for she had the heart and will to do and dare anything where duty called, and yet she was as simple as a child by nature.

She was deeply touched by the reception she had received, and, in glancing about, when she saw only a wild-looking set of men, rude log cabins, and an air of the far frontier pervading all, she knew that it was just what she must expect to see, and she at once adapted herself to circumstances.

She was escorted by Landlord Larry to her cabin, Harding himself bringing her trunk and another miner her saddle and bridle.

The appearance of the cabin revealed to her at a glance how much had been done to make her comfortable, and she praised the neat quarters and expressed the greatest satisfaction in her surroundings.

When she went over to the hotel to dinner, the whole crowd of miners there rose at her entrance, and every hat was doffed and placed beneath the bench on which the man sat, for hat-racks were not one of the luxuries of the last Chance Hotel, and a miner would as soon have thought of parting with his pistols as his head-covering.

At his own table, where sat, besides himself, Doctor Dick and Harding, Landlord Larry placed Celeste Seldon, and she was given the best the house afforded, and expressed herself as being treated far more kindly than she had had the slightest anticipation of.

The meal concluded, Celeste said that she would like to consult with the three she regarded as her immediate protectors, the Landlord, Doctor Dick, and Harding.

So the three met her in the landlord's private office, and Celeste at once said:

"I wish first to thank all of my kind friends here, through you, gentlemen, for the very generous manner in which you have received and treated me here. I know that the ransom money demanded for my release was quickly raised by the people here, you three being particularly generous; but I desire to say that I have the money to pay you back, and will do so."

"No, no, under no circumstances, Miss Seldon," said Doctor Dick eagerly, and the others chimed in with him.

But Celeste was firm in her determination, and said:

"I have no claim upon you, and, besides, I am very well off, so I shall insist, and, Landlord Larry, I will give you a draft for the amount upon an Eastern bank, and for more, as there will be another demand upon me, in the amount to ransom the one who came here for me, Mr. Bernard Brandon."

"But will you pay his ransom, Miss Seldon?"

"Why not, Landlord Larry?"

"I think," said Doctor Dick, "that as you came to visit Last Chance, we, the dwellers here, should be responsible, and pay these ransoms."

"So say I," put in Harding quickly.

"And I agree with you," added the landlord.

"Under no circumstances will I hear to it, for I will pay all, my own and the ransom of Mr. Brandon, so please send the draft through for the money, Landlord Larry, and while here I will take steps to find out all I can regarding my father, who was last heard of in this part of the country."

"Miss Seldon, I can tell you what you must know sooner or later about your father, who, let me say, was also my friend," said Doctor Dick.

It seemed hard that, in the joy of her release from captivity in the hands of the outlaws, Celeste Seldon should feel the blow of knowing that the unfortunate Bernard Brandon had been captured and she would have to pay a ransom for him, while she also had to suffer still further in learning what was her father's fate, as told her by Doctor Dick.

It had been a long time since she had seen her father, the last time when she was a little girl, and she remembered that he had left home under a cloud, and she had never expected to see him again.

With her mother dead, and her father a fugitive wanderer, she had been sent by her guardian, left so by the wishes of her parents, to a Northern school, and there had had no one upon whom to lean.

At the words and tone of Doctor Dick, she nerved herself to bear the worst; and asked calmly:

"What have you to tell me, Doctor Dick?"

"Of your father."

"You knew him?"

"Yes, for, though my senior in years, we were devoted friends."

"Have you seen him since coming West?"

"I have not; but let me tell you that, when on a scout with Buffalo Bill, the latter was rescued by a person who was alone, and on his way to W——. The scout had with him a prisoner, a deserter from the army and a murderer, who had been taken here in Last Chance, and he was taking him a prisoner to Fort Faraway, when he was attacked by a desperado by the name of Headlight Joe and his gang.

"With his horse shot and falling upon him, Buffalo Bill would have been killed and his prisoner rescued, but for the coming of the horseman referred to, and who put the outlaws to flight. He gave the name of Andrew Seldon, said nothing as to why he was in that part of the country, or where he lived, and went on his way.

"When I came up with Buffalo Bill, and heard his story of his rescue, and the name of his rescuer, it at once recalled my old-time friend, and, with the scout as my companion, we later sought to find him. We trailed him to his home, where he had dwelt with one other comrade."

"And where was that, sir?"

"In the Grand Canyon of the Colorado, Miss Seldon."

"And you found him?" eagerly asked Celeste, while the landlord and Harding gazed at her with deepest sympathy at what they felt she must hear.

"We found his house, or, rather, the wreck of it, for, mining under a cliff a thousand feet in height, it had caved in upon them, burying them beneath a mountain of red sandstone."

Celeste shuddered and covered her face with her hands, but very quickly regained her composure, and said:

"Are you sure that my father was in the mine when it caved in?"

"I am very sure, Miss Seldon, that both he and his comrade were. We, the scout and myself, were camped in the canyon, and heard the cave-in, and it felt like a mighty earthquake, and was at night.

"We made a thorough search the next day, but could not find any trace of a human being, and their horses shared the same fate, with a dog, also, which we heard barking that same night. Yes, there is no doubt of your father's fate."

"I thank you, Doctor Dick, for your telling me all; but I must see Buffalo Bill, the famous scout, and ask him to guide me to the fatal spot, the scene of my father's lone life in these wilds, and of his death," said Celeste, in a low tone that revealed how deeply she felt her father's fate.



CHAPTER XXXIV.

A METAMORPHOSIS.

When Harding met with old Huckleberry, the stage-driver, who had so mysteriously disappeared, and whose fate was a mystery to the miners of Last Chance, that old worthy saw the coach drive on its way while he regarded its departure with the complacency of one not afraid to be left alone, and fully capable of taking care of himself.

He stood for some time in silent meditation, after the coach had disappeared, and then, shouldering his rifle, struck off over the mountains, with an evident purpose in view.

A walk of some ten miles brought him to a secluded nook in the mountains, a perfect basin a dozen acres in size, heavily wooded, with plenty of grass and water.

A narrow pass, not twenty feet in width, was the only entrance to the basin, and this was securely fastened up with long poles.

Over this old Huckleberry clambered, and as he walked into the basin, a couple of horses feeding there greeted him with a welcoming neigh. In the farther end, among the pines, was a brush cabin, and in it were blankets and a camping-outfit, with saddle, pack-saddle, and bridles.

Old Huckleberry proceeded to build a fire and cook dinner, after which he caught one of his horses, saddled him, and strapped on some blankets and a bag of provisions.

Leading the horse out of the basin, he replaced the barrier securely, so that the other animal could not get out, and, mounting, started off for the fort. As he rode alone, he muttered to himself:

"I can do nothing alone, I feel certain, and by this time the one man whose aid I can best depend upon is at the fort, and he will gladly return with me."

Pressing on at a steady gait, he did not halt until some time after nightfall, and then built no fire, but ate a cold supper, staked his horse out, rolled up in his blankets, and was soon fast asleep.

He rose early, and the coming of day found him several miles on his way from his night camp.

About eight o'clock he halted, built a fire, broiled the steak of an antelope he had killed, some crackers and bacon, his horse faring well on the grass near-by.

A rest of an hour and a half, and he was again in the saddle, keeping up the same steady gait until noon, when another halt was made for a couple of hours. On through the afternoon he urged his horse once more, halting only after nightfall.

Two hours before daybreak he was in the saddle, and now his horse was pushed more rapidly forward, as though a long rest lay not very far ahead.

It was two hours before noon when the worn-out horse pricked up his ears as he saw a flag fluttering in the skies a mile ahead.

In through the stockade gate of Fort Faraway rode old Huckleberry, and he asked to be at once taken to the quarters of the commanding officer. Major Randall surveyed the old fellow keenly, and said pleasantly:

"Well, old man, what can I do for you?"

"I'll tell yer, pard, soon as I sees ef thet gent in sojer clothes ain't goin' ter speak ter a old friend," and old Huck looked over to an officer who was talking to Major Randall when he entered. The man wore a fatigue uniform, and his shoulder-straps bore the rank of a captain, with the insignia of a surgeon of cavalry.

He was tall, erect, had broad shoulders, and was of powerful build, while, strange to say for an officer, he wore his black hair long and falling in heavy masses down his back.

His face was full of decision, courage, and intelligence, and handsome, as well, and in his dark, piercing eyes there was a strange mixture of gentleness and a fiery nature combined. In a voice strangely musical for a man's, he said, as he arose:

"My dear old pard, am I so remiss as to forget the face of a friend, for, though I see that it is familiar, I cannot just place you."

"Now, Pard Doc, I thinks that ain't jist squar' ter fergit a old friend," said old Huckleberry, while Major Randall said:

"He certainly knows you well, Major Powell."

"And I knows Major Randall well, too; but as you don't seem ter git onter jist who I is gents, I'll tell yer by taking off my wig and specs—see!"

The wig, or shock, rather, of long gray hair was removed, the spectacles taken off, and the face of Buffalo Bill was revealed to the astonished gaze of Major Randall and Surgeon Powell, who both uttered an exclamation of amazement, and then burst out into hearty laughter, at the metamorphosis of old Huckleberry into the noted chief of scouts.

"Well, Cody, what does this masquerading mean?" cried Major Randall, after he and Surgeon Powell had shaken hands with the scout.

"It is a part of a plot, major, for I have been driving stage," answered the scout.

"Driving stage?"

"Yes, sir, I took the semimonthly coach running from W—— to Last Chance, after the road-agents had killed Benton and Dockery, and no one cared to drive the run, unless it was Doctor Dick, the gold-gambler of Last Chance."

"Did he take the coach through, Cody?"

"Oh, yes, sir, he is not a man to scare, and he drove several runs; but then his professional duties as gambler and doctor kept him busy, and I rigged up as old Huckleberry, and drove the runs, to see what I could find out."

"And what did you find out?"

"I believe I discovered sufficient, sir, to stretch several ropes with human weights."

"That means you are on the right trail to bag those road-agents?"

"Yes, sir."

"They appear to be well handled?"

"They are, sir, for their chief is a man of remarkable pluck, cunning, and skill, and he handles them in a masterly manner."

"Who is he?"

"I do not believe his own men could tell you, sir, for he goes masked and robed in black, even covering up his horse from ears to tail."

"That is strange."

"It is the safest plan, sir."

"And who is driving now?"

"Harding, sir, the ex-soldier, and whom, I may confidentially say, major, I have taken into my service, not as a scout, but as a spy, at Last Chance."

"A fine fellow, but I fear he will be killed as driver on that trail."

"I hope not, sir, and he has escaped splendidly through great dangers thus far."

"Well, what will be your plans now?"

"I have been hanging on the trail, sir, since my mysterious disappearance as old Huckleberry, and have been hovering about the Death Line, taking notes and seeing what I could discover. I have a camp in a basin in the mountain range, and there I left my packhorse and outfit while I came here."

"You have something to report to me, then?"

"No, sir, not particularly, though I came for a purpose."

"And that purpose, Cody?"

"I was aware, sir, that Surgeon Frank Powell was coming to the fort, to relieve Doctor Dey, and that his duties as surgeon would not begin for some weeks yet. As we have been on so many scouting-expeditions together, and Doctor Powell is a regiment in himself, I wanted him to go back with me and unearth these road-agents, following their trail to the very end."

"You could have no one better. What do you say, Powell?"

"How could I refuse, major, after Bill's most flattering remarks about what I can do, and which prove he has Irish blood in his veins."

"Ah! I knew that you would go, Frank," responded Cody.

"Of course, I will, and am ready when you say the word, only I must ask Major Randall for a leave, should we not accomplish our purpose before I am ordered for duty here."

"That will be all right, Powell. When will you start, Cody, for Doctor Powell will have to first relieve Doctor Dey, as that would be the best plan, and then go, leaving his assistant surgeon in charge."

"It is for you to decide, major."

"Very well, say in just ten days from now."

"All right, sir; but, after a couple of days' rest, I had better return to my basin camp, and be on the watch, and I can tell Surgeon Powell just where I will meet him upon a certain date."

"You know best, Cody; but do not venture much until Powell joins you, for well I know what a team you two make together."

"I feel certain, sir, that together we can run down these masked marauders," was the confident reply of Buffalo Bill, and when he went to his quarters, soon after, Surgeon Powell accompanied him, for the two were the closest of friends.



CHAPTER XXXV.

THE DRIVER'S LETTER.

After several days' stay at the fort, Buffalo Bill started upon his return to his secret camp near Last Chance trail. He took with him another packhorse, well laden with bedding and supplies, for the weather was growing steadily colder and winter would soon be upon the land.

He knew that little snow generally fell as far down as the Last Chance trail, but it would be well to be prepared for any emergency, and as the coaches ran through the winter, the road-agents would by no means take a rest.

Riding leisurely on the back trail, not caring to push his horses too hard, Buffalo Bill reached his basin camp in the mountains on the third day, and the animal he left there pranced like a colt at seeing him come back.

His first work was to make his quarters more secure and comfortable, and this took him a day, and the following, having strengthened the barrier in the pass, to prevent his horses from breaking out, he started off on foot for the W—— and Last Chance stage-trail.

He would not ride, as he did not wish his trail to be seen by any prowling road-agents, and on foot he could accomplish more and be concealed far better than if he had gone mounted.

Before parting with Surgeon Frank Powell at the fort, Buffalo Bill had drawn a map of the country, marking the trail the surgeon-scout was to follow, and also just where he was to meet him, the place of rendezvous being the deserted camp where was the grave of Black-heart Bill.

When Buffalo Bill approached the trail, at the scene of the Dead Line tragedies, he went most cautiously. But no one was there, and going up to the little cross, the scout bent over and thrust his hand into the spot where, as old Huckleberry, he had his "post-office" with Harding.

He took out a slip of paper, and read it with clouded brow. It was as follows:

"I slip away at night from Last Chance to leave this here for you. It was unfortunate that you should have had to go to the fort when you did, as on my run back I was held up here by the agents.

"I had taken your advice, and pressed through the other end at night, thus escaping men lying in wait for me.

"On my return I had a young lady passenger, a Miss Celeste Seldon, coming out here to find her father, a miner, and a young man whom she had sent in search of him. It was the young man I told you of who had been wounded and had never regained his reason.

"I had a large sum of money, which was taken, and Miss Seldon was carried off as a captive, to be held for ransom.

"The miners have subscribed the ransom money, and she is to be released. I will let you know particulars more fully as soon as I get the opportunity, endeavoring to have a letter here for you when I come to make the exchange, paying the ransom and receiving the lady from the outlaws.

"Doctor Dick will come with me; but the outlaws threaten to kill Miss Seldon if others come, or if any one else leaves Last Chance to pursue them, and that chief will keep his word.

HARDING."

Then there followed a postscript, which read:

"The young messenger, Bernard Brandon, has most mysteriously disappeared, and no search can find him.

"H."

Buffalo Bill read this letter over twice, and said in a musing way:

"Those outlaws are becoming bold, indeed, when they deliberately rob a young girl and make her their prisoner. The man Brandon was her messenger, sent in search of her father, and his mysterious disappearance, to me, means that he has been captured by the road-agents.

"Now, I dare not halt the coach on the way to receive the girl, if the road-agents give her up; but I will be on the watch, see it go by, and be as near this spot when the ransom is paid as I dare be, for from here I may be able to track those devils to their lair."

So saying, the scout set out upon his return for his basin camp.



CHAPTER XXXVI.

THE SCOUT ON THE WATCH.

When Buffalo Bill returned from the Dead Line to his secret camp, it was to prepare himself for several days' absence from it, for his intention was to hang about the Last Chance trail, discovering all that it was in his power to do.

He found a retreat upon a cliff, where there was a thicket of pines, giving him a view in both directions of the trail for a mile or more.

He saw from there the coach coming to the rendezvous, with the ransom money for Celeste Seldon's release, and upon the box beside the driver was Doctor Dick.

Yet the scout did not know who might be inside the stage, so dared not make any sign of his presence.

On went the coach, and Buffalo Bill at once started down from the cliff, and followed in its trail at an Indian trot, which kept him well up with it, yet just out of sight.

As he approached the Dead Line, he went more cautiously, and, reaching the entrance to the pass, made a flank movement and climbed to the top of the ridge.

It was after continued search that he at last found a point of observation, and he risked his life by reaching a spot where he would be dashed to death, hundreds of feet below, should his foot slip or nerve fail him.

From this spot, where he clung to a tree, he turned his field-glass down the pass, and could see the coach standing at the Dead Line, a quarter of a mile away. He saw that the coach had been turned to the right-about, the team being headed back for Last Chance, and Doctor Dick was standing near it, Harding being still on the box and grasping the reins.

Watching, with every nerve strung, the scout saw the masked road-agent appear, and later the fair captive. Then followed two other road-agents bearing the baggage of Celeste Seldon, and soon after the coach started upon its return.

Buffalo Bill could not have reached a point to head it off had he tried, and he felt that he must still be cautious. But he was determined to reach the Dead Line and take up the trail from there, for certainly the road-agents had not allowed Celeste Seldon to walk to the scene of the exchange.

After half an hour he gained a point just over the Dead Line, and from there saw that all was quiet. The outlaws had left, beyond all doubt.

It was an hour before the scout could make his way around to the Dead Line, and there he felt in the little "post-office" for a letter from Harding. But none was there.

"He dared not attempt it," he muttered.

Then taking a leaf from his note-book, he wrote:

"I am again on the trail. I saw the lady returned to you. I will take the outlaws' trail from here, and hope to track them to their lair.

"In a few days, now, I will have the surgeon-scout with me in my work, so the end is not far away.

"Keep me posted as before, as I will you.

"Yours, B. B."

This was placed in the receptacle near the cross, and, shouldering his rifle, Buffalo Bill set out to look for trails.

It took him a long while to satisfy himself that he was on the right track, but at last he struck off at a lively step along a trail which only a man of his frontier skill could have discovered.

After a walk of a mile he suddenly came upon a spot where there were the tracks of a horse visible. These he followed a mile farther, and the scout saw that the ground was trampled down, but not by hoofs.

The track he had followed thus far had been that of one hoof only, showing that the other three had been muffled, but one had lost its covering.

The trampled grass and ground revealed that the horses had been left there, and all had had their hoofs muffled in some way.

But the keen eyes of the scout picked up the trail, and he followed it quite rapidly until he came to a small stream.

"There were eight horses along, as their tracks show here, but how many men I do not know. When they have gone some miles farther they will remove the muffles from their horses' hoofs, and then the trail will be easy to follow, and it now looks to me as though I will be able to track them to their retreat, and that means the end.

"But night is coming on now, and this is just the place for me to branch off and go to my own camp, following the trail to-morrow on horseback."

Buffalo Bill quickly decided what course he would pursue. He would walk to his camp, get some provisions and an increased outfit, return there for the balance of the night and go into camp, so as to make an early start in the morning directly on the trail.

So he set out at a rapid walk, and within three hours' time had reached his basin camp. He quickly set to work to look up some provisions and get ready for his trail, and in an hour was ready to start, mounted upon his best horse.

It was after midnight when he reached his camping-place, but he was soon asleep, wrapped snugly in his blankets, while his horse was resting and feeding.

With the breaking of dawn he was up and ready to start, and a few miles away discovered the spot where the outlaws had removed the muffles from the hoofs of their horses.

From there on he felt no further anxiety about the trail, so cooked his breakfast, ate it leisurely, and again started on his way.

He understood now thoroughly why the outlaws had left no trails going to and coming from the Dead Line and other points upon the Overland Trail. The muffled hoofs of the horses explained this, and they stuck to their determination to leave no tracks until they got far away from the scene of their evil deeds.

Buffalo Bill did not believe that he would have to go very far from the Dead Line before he found their retreat, and was expecting to find out where they were in hiding within half a day's ride from his starting-point.

But noon came, and still the trail led him on. He had plenty of time, so did not hurry. He could do nothing alone, other than to discover the retreat, and then he would make for his rendezvous with the surgeon-scout, and together they would plan their future movements.

But night came on, and found him still on the trail. He was compelled to go into camp, for he could not follow it by night, and he soon made himself comfortable.

Again he started after daybreak, and a ride of several hours caused him to say:

"This trail is surely leading direct to the Grand Canyon of the Colorado. Can they have sought that weird land for a retreat?—yet why not, for no safer one could be found."

Within an hour more he felt that the country had a familiar look, and he was not long in discovering upon riding a few miles farther, that he had ridden right along there with Doctor Dick when on the trail of Andrew Seldon.

Suddenly he came upon the grand vista of the canyon, and at once drew rein. There before him was the mighty view that had so impressed him on his former visit, and he knew that the outlaws must have found a retreat in the depths of the Grand Canyon.

Not daring to go farther on horseback, he rode off the trail to find a hiding-place for his horse, and, after a search, discovered a little glen where he felt that he would be safe, unless his trail was discovered and he was tracked there.

There was a pool of water in one end and grass about it, so he staked his horse out, feeling that he could at least subsist comfortably there for a couple of days, should he be kept away that long.

Hiding his saddle and bridle he set out on foot, with a couple of blankets strapped on his back, his bag of provisions, rifle, lasso, and belt of arms.

He went back to the trail and again took it up where he had left it to hide his horse. Every step forward now was one of caution, for the country was open in places, and he did not know what moment he might come upon a party of outlaws and have to fight for his life.

But he reached the rim of the canyon by dark, and a short search revealed to him that the trail down into the depths of the tremendous chasm had been discovered also by the road-agents, and their tracks led down into it.

The night passed with a cold supper and breakfast, and then he set off on foot down the dizzy pathway leading to the bottom of the canyon, for now he felt sure that he would discover the lair of the outlaws, and that done and his own presence unknown to them, he could arrange for an attack upon them at his leisure.



CHAPTER XXXVII.

THE MINER'S MISSION.

The gold-hunter, Andrew Seldon, rode on his way from his retreat in the canyon, determined to risk his life by returning to Fort Faraway and reporting the presence in the Grand Canyon of the masked outlaw band.

If recognized as Sergeant Wallace Weston, under sentence of death, he would be at once arrested and his execution would follow.

But he knew that Wallace Weston was believed to be dead, reported as dying of starvation in the desert at the time of his escape.

As Sergeant Weston he had been an erect man of martial bearing, with a face smoothly shaven and hair cut short. As Andrew Seldon he wore his hair long, and his beard fell half-way down to his belt, while he further had a pair of spectacles to disguise his eyes with, and had manufactured a hump in the shoulders of his coat that gave him a changed form, like one who stoops badly.

"But come what may, I shall risk it," he said firmly, as he went on his way.

After his night in the deserted camp where was the grave of Black-heart Bill he struck out for Fort Faraway. Suddenly he drew his horse to a halt as he saw a dust-cloud far ahead. It was approaching him, and it was made by horses crossing a sandy part of the country.