THE BOYLAND BOOMER

OR

DICK ARBUCKLE'SADVENTURES IN OKLAHOMA

BY

CAPTAIN RALPH BONEHILL

AUTHOR OF

"THREE YOUNG RANCHMEN, ""A SAILOR BOY WITH DEWEY, " ETC. 

[Illustration: "The youth had to cling fast around his neck to savehimself a lot of broken bones"]

ILLUSTRATED BY W. H. FRY

H. M. CALDWELL COMPANYNEW YORK Publishers BOSTON

COPYRIGHT, 1902, BYTHE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY

Made byRobert Smith Printing Co. , Lansing, Mich. 

---------------Transcriber's Note: Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Allother inconsistencies have been left as they were in the original. ---------------

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

 PAGE

"The youth had to cling fast around his neck to savehimself a lot of broken bones" _Frontispiece_

"The next instant the boy was hurled headlong intothe boiling and foaming current" 62

"Dick had let fly the jagged stone, taking him directlyin the forehead and keeling him over like a tenpin" 179

"In a second more the two men were in a hand-to-handencounter" 220

PREFACE. 

"The Boy Land Boomer" relates the adventures of a lad who, with hisfather, joins a number of daring men in an attempt to occupy the richfarming lands of Oklahoma before the time when that section of ourcountry was thrown open to settlement under the homestead act. 

Oklahoma consists of a tract of land which formerly formed a portion ofthe Indian Territory. This region was much in dispute as early as 1884and 1885, when Captain "Oklahoma" Payne and Captain Couch did their bestto force an entrance for the boomers under them. Boomers remained in theneighborhood for years, and another attempt was made to settle Oklahomain 1886, and up to 1889, when, on April 22, the land was thrown open tosettlement by a proclamation of the President. The mad rush to gain thebest claims followed, and some of these scenes are related in thepresent volume. 

The boomers, who numbered thousands, had among them several daring andwell-known leaders, but not one was better known or more daring thanthe leader who is known in these pages as Pawnee Brown. This man was notalone a great Indian scout and hunter, but also one who had lived muchamong the Indians, could speak their language, and who had on severaloccasions acted as interpreter for the Government. He was well belovedby his followers, who relied upon his judgment in all things. 

To some it may seem that the scenes in this book are overdrawn. Such, however, is not the fact. There was much of roughness in those days, andthe author has continually found it necessary to tone down rather thanto exaggerate in penning these scenes from real life. 

CAPTAIN RALPH BONEHILL. 

THE BOY LAND BOOMER. 

 * * * * *

CHAPTER I. 

DICK ARBUCKLE'S DISCOVERY. 

"Father!"

The call came from a boy of sixteen, a bright, manly chap, who had justawakened from an unusually sound sleep in the rear end of a monstrousboomer's wagon. 

The scene was upon the outskirts of Arkansas City, situated near thesouthern boundary line of Kansas and not many miles from the Oklahomaportion of the Indian Territory. 

For weeks the city had been filling up with boomers on their way topre-empt land within the confines of Oklahoma as soon as it becamepossible to do so. 

The land in Oklahoma had for years been in dispute. Pioneers claimed theright to go in and stake out homesteads, but the soldiers of ourgovernment would not allow them to do so. 

The secret of the matter was that the cattle kings of that sectioncontrolled everything, and as the grazing land of the territory wasworth hundreds of thousands of dollars to them they fought desperatelyto keep the pioneers out, delaying, in every manner possible, legislation which tended to make the section an absolutely free one towould-be settlers. 

But now the pioneers, or boomers as they were commonly called, weretired of waiting for the passage of a law which they knew must comesooner or later, and they intended to go ahead without legal authority. 

It was a dark, tempestuous night, with the wind blowing fiercely and therain coming down at irregular intervals. On the grassy plain werehuddled the wagons, animals and trappings of over two hundred boomers. Here and there flared up the remains of a campfire, but the wind wasblowing too strongly for these to be replenished, and the men hadfollowed their wives and children into the big, canvas-covered wagons, to make themselves as comfortable as the crowded space permitted. 

It was the rattle of the rain on the canvas covering of the wagon whichhad aroused the boy. 

"I say father!" he repeated. "Father!"

Again there was no reply, and, kicking aside the blanket with which hehad been covered, Dick Arbuckle clambered over some boxes piled high inthe center of the vehicle to where he had left his parent resting lessthan three hours before. 

"Gone!" cried the lad in astonishment. "What can this mean? What couldtake him outside in such a storm as this? Father!"

He now crawled to the opening at the front of the wagon and called atthe top of his voice. Only the shrieking of the wind answered him. Adozen times he cried out, then paused to strike a somewhat damp matchand light a smoky lantern hanging to the front ashen bow of theturn-out's covering. Holding the light over his head he peered forth intothe inky darkness surrounding the boomer's temporary camp. 

"Not a soul in sight, " he mused. "It must be about midnight. Cansomething have happened to father? He said he felt rather strange in hishead when he went to bed. If only Jack Rasco would come back. "

From the front end of the wagon Dick Arbuckle shifted back to the rear. Here the same dreary outlook of storm, mud and flapping canvasespresented itself. Not so much as a stray dog was in sight, and thenearest wagon was twenty feet away. 

"I must find out where he is. Something is wrong, I feel certain of it. "

Thus muttering to himself the youth hunted up his overcoat and hat, putthem on, and, lantern in hand, swung himself into the sea ofhalf-submerged prairie grass, and stalked over to the other wagon justmentioned. 

"Mike Delaney!" he cried, kicking on the wagon wheel with the toe of hisboot; "Mike Delaney, have you seen my father anywhere?"

"Sure, an' Moike Delaney is not here, Dick Arbuckle, " came in a femalevoice. "He's gone off wid Pawnee Brown, and there's no tellin' whinhe'll be back. Is yer father gone?"

"Yes, and I don't know where, " and now Dick stepped closer, as the roundand freckled face of Rosy Delaney peered forth from a hole in the canvasend. "He went to bed when I did, and now he's missing. "

"Saints preserve us! Mebbe the Injuns scalped him now, Dick!" came in avoice full of terror. 

"There are no Indians around here, Mrs. Delaney, " answered the youth, half inclined to laugh. "But he's missing, and it's mighty strange, tosay the least. "

"He was sick, too, wasn't he?"

"Father hasn't been real well for a year. He left New York very largelyin the hope that this climate would do him some good. "

"Moike was sayin' his head throubles him a good bit. "

"So it does, and that's why I am so worried. When he gets those awfulpains he is apt to walk away and keep right on without knowing where heis going. "

"Poor mon! Oi wisht Oi could help yez. Mebbe Moike will be back soon. Ain't Jack Rasco about?"

"No, he is off with Pawnee Brown, too. Rasco and Brown have been lookingover the trails leading to Oklahoma. They are bound to outwit the UnitedStates cavalry, for the boomers have more right to that land than thecattle kings, and right is always might in the end. "

"Especially wid Pawnee on the end o' it, Dick. He's a great mon, isPawnee, only it do be afther givin' me the shivers to hear him spake thePawnee language loike he was a rale Injun. Such a foine scout as he ishas no roight to spake such a dirthy tongue. How illegant it would benow if he could spake rale Oirish. "

"His knowledge of the Indian tongue has helped both him and ourgovernment a good deal, Mrs. Delaney. But I mustn't stop here talking. If my father----"

A wild, unearthly shriek cut short further talk upon Dick Arbuckle'spart. It came from the darkness back of the camp and caused Mrs. Delaneyto draw back and tumble to the bottom of her house on wheels in terror. 

"It's the Banshee----" she began, when Dick interrupted her. 

"It's Pumpkin Bill. I'd know his voice a mile off, " he declared. "Somebody ought to send him back to where he belongs. Creation, what aracket!"

Nearer and nearer came the voice, rising and falling with the wind. Theshrill shrieking penetrated to every wagon, and head after head wasthrust out of the canvases to see what it meant. In another minutePumpkin Bill, the dunce of the boomer's camp, "a nobody from nowhar, " touse Cal Clemmer's words, came rushing along, hatless and with his wildeyes fairly starting from their sockets. 

"Save me! a ghost!" he yelled, swinging his hands over his head. "Aghost full of blood! Oh, oh! I'm a dead boy! I know I am! Stop him fromfollowing me!"

"Pumpkin!" ejaculated Dick, striding up and catching the fleeing lad bythe arm. "Hold on; what's this racket about?"

The dunce paused, then stood stock still, his mouth opening to itswidest extent. He was far from bright, and it took him several secondsto put into words what was passing in his mind. 

"About, about?" he repeated. "Dick Arbuckle! Oh, dear me! I've seen yourfather's ghost!"

"Pumpkin!"

"Yes, I did. Hope to die if I didn't. I was just coming to camp fromtown. Some men kept me, and made me sing and dance for them--you knowhow I can sing--tra-la-la-da-do-da-bum! They promised me a dollar, butdidn't give it to me. I was running to get out of the wet when I plumpedinto something fearful--a ghost! Your father, covered with blood, andgroaning and moaning, 'Robbed, robbed; almost murdered!' That's what theghost said, and he caught me by the hand. See, the blood is there yet, even though I did try to wash it off in the rain. Oh, Dick, what does itmean?"

"It means something awful has happened, Pumpkin, if your story istrue----"

"Hope to die if it ain't, " and the dunce crossed his heart severaltimes. Suddenly, to keep up his courage, he burst into a wild snatch ofsong:

 "A big baboon Glared at the moon, And sang la-la-la-dum! 'Come down to me And I will be Your lardy-dardy----'"

"Stop it, Pumpkin, " interrupted Dick. "Come along with me. "

"To where?"

"To where you saw my father. "

"Not for a million dollars--not for a million million!" cried thehalf-witted boy. "It wasn't your father; it was a ghost, all coveredwith blood!" and he shrank back under the Delaney wagon. 

"It was my father, Pumpkin; I am sure of it. He is missing, andsomething has happened to him. Perhaps he fell and hurt himself. Comeon. "

The dunce stopped short and stared. 

"Missing, is he? Then it wasn't a ghost. La-la-dum! What a joke. Willyou go along, too?"

"Of course. "

"And take a pistol?"

"Yes. "

"Poor mon, Oi thrust he is not very much hurted, " broke in Rosy Delaney, who had been a close listener to the foregoing. "If he is, DickArbuckle, bring him here, an' it's Rosy Delaney will nurse him wid th'best of care. "

As has been said, many had heard Pumpkin Bill's wild cries, but now thathe had quieted down these boomers returned to their couches, grumblingthat the half-witted lad should thus be allowed to disturb their rest. 

In a minute Dick Arbuckle and Pumpkin were hurrying along the road thedunce had previously traveled. The rain was letting up a bit, and thesmoky lantern lit up the surroundings for a circle thirty feet indiameter. 

"Here is where I met him, " said Pumpkin, coming to a halt near the edgeof a small stream. "There's the hat he knocked off my head. " He pickedit up. "Oh, dear me! covered with blood! Did you ever see the like?"

Dick was more disturbed than ever. 

"Which way did he go?"

"I don't know. "

"Didn't you notice at all, Pumpkin? Try to think. "

"Nary a notice. I ran, that's all. It looked like a bloody ghost. I'lldream about it, I know I will. "

To this Dick did not answer. Getting down on his knees in the wet heexamined the trail by the lantern's rays. The footsteps which he thoughtmust be those of his father led around a bend in the stream and up aseries of rocks covered with moss and dirt. With his heart thumpingviolently under his jacket he followed the footprints until the verysummit of the rocks was gained. Then he let out a groan of anguish. 

And not without cause. Beyond the summit was a dark opening fifteen feetwide, a hundred or more feet long and of unfathomable depth. Thefootprints ended at the very edge of this yawning abyss. 

CHAPTER II. 

DICK ON A RUNAWAY. 

"If he fell down here he is dead beyond all doubt!"

Such were Dick Arbuckle's words as he tried in vain to pierce the gloomof the abyss by flashing around the smoky lantern. 

"Gosh! I reckon you're right, " answered Pumpkin in an awe-struckwhisper. "It must be a thousand feet to the bottom of that hole!"

"If I had a rope I might lower myself, " went on the youth, with quietdetermination. "But without a rope----"

A pounding of hoof-strokes on the grassy trail below the rocks causedhim to stop and listen attentively. 

"Somebody is coming. I'll see if I can get help!" he cried, and ran downto the trail, swinging his lantern over his head as he went. In tenseconds a horseman burst into view, riding a beautiful racing steed. Thenewcomer was a well-known leader of the land boomers, who rejoiced inthe name of Pawnee Brown. 

"Ai! Pawnee Brown!" cried Dick, and at once the leader of the landboomers came to a halt. 

"What is it, Arbuckle?" he asked kindly. 

"My father is missing, and I have every reason to fear that he hastumbled into an opening at the summit of yonder rocks. "

"That's bad, lad. Missing? Since when?"

Dick's story was soon told, and Pawnee Brown at once agreed to go up tothe opening and see if anything could be done. "It's the Devil'sChimney, " he explained. "If he went over into it I'm afraid he's agoner. "

A lariat hung from the pommel of the scout's saddle, and this he took inhand as he dismounted. Soon he stood by the edge of the black opening, while Dick again waved the lantern. 

"You and the dunce can lower me by the lariat. I don't believe theopening is more than fifty feet deep, " said Pawnee Brown. 

The lariat was quickly adjusted around the edge of a smooth rock, andwith his foot in a noose and the lantern in hand, the scout was loweredinto the depths of the opening. 

Down and down he went, the light finding nothing but bare, rocky wall tofall upon. Presently the lowering process ceased. 

"We have reached the end of the lariat, " called out Dick. 

Hardly had he spoken when a fearful thing happened. There was a snap anda whirr, and Dick and Pumpkin went flat on their backs, while ten feetof the lariat whirled loosely over their heads. 

The improvised rope had broken. 

"Gone!" gasped Dick. "Merciful heavens!"

He scrambled up and looked over the edge of the opening. The lantern hadbeen dashed into a thousand pieces, and all was dark below. 

"Pawnee Brown!" he cried, and Pumpkin joined in with a cry which wasfairly a shriek. 

The opening remained as silent as a tomb. Again and again both calledout. Then Dick turned to his companion. 

"This is awful, Pumpkin. Something must be done. I shall mount his mareand ride back to camp and get help. For all I know to the contrary bothmy father and Pawnee Brown are lying dead below. "

"I shan't stay here alone, " shivered the half-witted boy. Then, beforeDick could stop him, he set off at the top of his speed, yellingdiscordantly as he went. 

"Poor fool, he might have ridden with me, " thought Dick. 

He was already rushing down to the trail. Now he remembered that he hadheard a strange noise down where Pawnee Brown's beautiful mare, BonnieBird, had been tethered--a noise reaching him just before the lariat hadparted. What could that mean?

He reached the clump of trees where Bonnie Bird should have been. Themare was gone!

"Broken away!" he groaned. "Was ever such luck before! Everything isgoing wrong tonight! Poor father; poor Pawnee Brown! I must leg it tocamp just as Pumpkin is doing. Hullo!"

He had started to run, but now he pulled up short. Grazing in the wetgrass not a dozen steps away was a bay horse, full and round, a perfectbeast. At first Dick Arbuckle thought he must be dreaming. He ran uprubbing his eyes. No, it was no dream; the horse was as real as a horsecould be. He was bridled, but instead of a saddle wore only a patch of ablanket. 

"It's a Godsend, " he murmured. "I don't know whom you belong to, oldboy, but you've got to carry me back to camp, and that, too, at alicking gait, you understand?"

The horse pricked up his ears and gave a snort. In a trice Dick was onhis back and urging him around in the proper direction. He was a NewYork boy, not much used to riding, and the management of such a beast asthis one did not come easy. The horse arose upon his forelegs andnearly pitched Dick over his head, and the youth had to cling fastaround his neck to save himself a lot of broken bones. 

"Whoa, there! Gee Christopher, what a tartar! Whoa, I say! If only I hada whip!" he panted, as the horse began to move around on a pivot. "Now, why can't you act nice, when I'm in such dire need of your services? Ifyou don't stop--Whoa! whoa!"

For the horse had suddenly stopped pivoting and started off like astreak, not up or down the trail, but across a stretch of prairie grass. On and on he went, the bit between his teeth and gaining speed at everystep. In vain Dick yelled at him, kicked him and banged him on the head. It was of no use, and he had to cling on for dear life. 

"I might as well let him go and jump for it, " he thought at last, whennearly a mile had been covered. "It's just as useless to try to stop himas it would be to stop a limited express. If I jump off--but I won't, now!"

For the prairie had been left behind, and the bay was tearing along arocky trail leading to goodness knew where, so Dick thought. A jump nowwould mean broken bones, perhaps death. He clung tighter than ever, andtried to calm the horse by speaking gently to him. 

At first the beast would not listen, but finally, when several miles hadbeen covered he slackened up, and at last dropped into a walk. He wascovered with foam, and now he was quite willing to be led. 

"You old reprobate!" muttered Dick, as he tightened his hold on thereins. "Now where in the name of creation have you brought me to, andhow am I to find my way back to camp from here?"

Sitting upright once again, the youth tried to pierce the darkness. Therain had stopped, only a few scattering drops falling upon himself andthe steaming animal, but the darkness was as great as ever. 

On two sides of him were forest lands, on the third a slope of rocks andon the fourth a stretch of dwarf grass. The trail, if such it could becalled, ran along the edge of the timber. Should he follow this? Hemoved along slowly, wondering whether he was right or wrong. 

"Halt! Who goes there?"

It was a military challenge, coming out of the darkness. Dick stoppedthe horse, and presently made out the form of a man on horseback, acavalryman. 

"I'm a friend who has lost the way, " began the youth, when thecavalryman let out a cry of surprise. 

"Tucker's horse, hang me if it isn't! Boy, where did you get that nag?Tucker, Ross, come here! I've collared one of the horse-thieves!"

In a moment more there came the clatter of horses' hoofs through thetimber, and Dick found himself surrounded by three big and decidedlyugly-looking United States cavalrymen--troopers who belonged to adetachment set to guard the Oklahoma territory from invasion. 

"A boy and a boomer!" ejaculated the fellow named Tucker. "I saw the kidover near Arkansas City a couple of days ago. And riding Chester, too!Git off that hoss, before I kick you off!"

And riding up he caught Dick by the collar and yanked him to the ground. In an instant he was beside the boy and had produced a pair ofreservation handcuffs. 

"Out with your hands, sonny, and be quick about it. "

"What for?" asked Dick, somewhat bewildered by the unceremonious way inwhich he was being handled. "I didn't steal that horse. "

"Too thin, sonny. All you boomers are a set of thieves, and I supposeyou think stealing our hossflesh is the rarest kind of a joke. Out withthose hands, I say, and consider yourself a prisoner of Uncle Sam. You've nearly ridden Chester to death and for two pins I'd take the lawinto my own hands and string you up to the nearest tree. Take that!"

And having handcuffed Dick the cavalryman let out with his heavy righthand and landed a savage slap that sent the helpless youth headlong athis feet. 

The blow aroused all of the lion in the youth's makeup. As quickly as hecould he leaped up. 

"You brute!" he cried. "Why don't you fight fair? Take that, and thatand that!"

Each "that" meant two blows, for Dick could not separate his hands, andtherefore struck out with both at a time--two in the chest, two on thechin and the final pair on either side of Tucker's big and reddish nose. The cavalryman, taken by surprise, let out a cry of rage and pain. 

"You imp!" he screamed. "To hit a man in uniform! I'll show you what Ican do! How do you like that?"

With incredible swiftness he drew his heavy Sabra and leaped upon Dick. The boy tried to retreat, but slipped on the wet ground and went down. On the instant Tucker was upon him, and, with a fierce cry, theinfuriated cavalryman raised his blade over Dick's head. 

CHAPTER III. 

A CAVE AND A CAVE-IN. 

Let us go back and see what happened to Pawnee Brown at the time thelariat parted and he found himself going down into what seemedbottomless space. 

Instinctively he put out both hands as far as he was able, to graspanything which might come within reach and thereby check his awfuldownward course. 

The lantern fell from his fingers and jingled to pieces on a protrudingrock. 

Then his right hand slid over the ends of a bush growing out of afissure. He caught the bush and held on like grim death. 

The bush gave way, but not instantly, and his descent was checked sothat the tumble to the bottom of the hole, fifteen feet further down, was not near as bad as it would otherwise have been. 

Yet he came down sideways, and his head striking a flat rock, he wasknocked insensible. 

Half an hour went by, and he opened his eyes in a wondering way. Wherewas he and what had happened?

Soon the truth burst upon him, and he staggered to his feet to see ifany bones had been broken. 

"All whole yet, thanks to my usual good luck, " he thought. "But that's anasty lump on the back of my head. Hullo, up there!"

He called out as loudly as he could, but no answer came back, for Dickand Pumpkin were already gone. 

"Well, I always allowed that I would explore the Devil's Chimney someday, but I didn't calculate to do it quite so soon, " he went on. "Whatcan have become of those boys? Have they deserted me or gone off forhelp? If I can read character I fancy that Dick Arbuckle will do all hecan for me--and, by the way, can his father's corpse really be downhere?"

He brought forth a match and lit it. The battered lantern lay close athand, and, although without a glass, it was still better than nothing, and, turned well up, gave forth a torch-like flame which lit up thesurroundings for a dozen feet or more. No body was there, nor did hefind any for the full distance up and down the dismal hole. 

"The boy was mistaken; his father wandered elsewhere, " was the boomer'sconclusion. "Poor fellow, he was in no mental or physical condition topush his claims in the West. He should have remained at home and allowedsome hustling Western lawyer to act for him. If he falls into theclutches of some of our land agents they'll swindle him out of everycent of his fortune. I must give him and the boy the tip when I get thechance. " The great scout laughed softly. "When I get the chance is good. I reckon I had best pull myself out of this man-trap first. "

He made a careful investigation of the rocks. At no point was thereanything which gave promise of a footing to the top. 

"In a pocket and no error, " he mused. "I wonder if I've got to stay herelike a bull-croaker at the bottom of a well?"

The rain had formed a long pool between the slanting rocks. He threw achip into this pool and saw that it drifted slowly off between two scrubbushes growing partly under a shelving rock. 

With the light he made an inspection of the locality, and a cry ofsurprise escaped him. Beyond the bushes was the opening to an irregular, but apparently large cavern. 

The stream flowed along one side of the flooring to this opening. 

"Must be some sort of an outlet beyond, " he mused. "I'll try it andsee, " and in a moment more he was inside of the cavern and crawlingalong on hands and knees. 

He had not far to go in this fashion. Twenty feet beyond the cavernbecame so large that he could stand up with ease. He flashed the lightabove his head. 

"By Jove! a miniature Mammoth Cave of Kentucky!" burst from his lips. 

On he went until a bend in the formation of the cavern was gained. Herethe stream of water disappeared under a pile of loose stones, and theopening became less than six feet in height. 

"Checked!" he muttered, and his face fell. It looked as if he would haveto go back the way he had come. 

Again he raised his light and gazed about him with more care than ever. 

The loose rocks soon caught his attention, and, setting down thelantern, he began to pull away first at one and then another. 

The last turned back, he saw another opening, evidently leading upward. 

"This must lead to the open air--" he began, when a grinding of stonecaught his ears. In a twinkle a veritable shower of rocks came downaround his head. He was knocked flat and almost covered. 

For fully ten minutes he lay gasping for breath. The blood was flowingfrom a wound on his cheek, and it was a wonder that he had not beenkilled. 

"In the future I'll have more care, " he groaned, as, throwing first onestone and then another aside, he sat up. The falling of the stones hadbeen followed by some dirt, and now a regular landslide came after, burying him up to the armpits. 

"Planted, " was the single word which issued from his lips. He was notseriously hurt, and was half inclined to laugh at his predicament. Still, on the whole, it was no laughing matter, and Pawnee Brown lost notime in trying to dig himself free. 

The stones and dirt were wedged tightly about his legs, and not wishingto run the risk of a broken or twisted ankle, the scout worked withcare, all the time wondering if Dick Arbuckle was back, and never oncedreaming of the peril the poor lad was encountering. The rain wassoaking through the ceiling of the cavern, and the situation was farfrom a comfortable one. 

At last he was free again, and striking a match, he hunted up thelantern and lit it once more. 

The opening to the inner cave was now large enough to pass through withease, and making sure of his footing, the scout moved forward, straininghis eyes eagerly for some sign of an egress to the outer world. 

Presently he saw a number of straggly things dangling downward from therocks and soil overhead. 

They were the bottom roots of some great tree standing fifteen or twentyfeet above. 

"Not far from the surface now, that's certain, " he thought, withconsiderable satisfaction. "And yet, hang me if I can see an opening ofany sort yet. "

On and on he went, until nearly a hundred feet more had been passed. 

The cave had widened out, but now it narrowed once again to less than adozen feet. The roof, too, sloped downward until it occasionally scrapedthe crown of his sombrero. 

The light of the lantern began to splutter and flare up, showing thatthe oil in the cup was running low. 

"If only the thing lasts until I find the door to this confoundedprison, " he thought. 

Suddenly a peculiar hiss sounded out upon the darkness. 

Pawnee Brown knew that hiss only too well, and leaping back he snatcheda pistol from his belt. 

The hiss was followed by a rattle, and now, flashing the light around, the scout saw upon a flat rock the curled-up form of a huge rattlesnake. 

The eyes of the reptile shone like twin stars, and when Pawnee Browndiscovered him he was getting ready to strike. 

The rattler was less than six feet away, and the scout knew that hecould cover that space with ease. Therefore, whatever was to be donemust be done quickly. 

Like a flash the pistol came up. But ere Pawnee Brown could fire acurious thing happened. 

A large drop of water, splashing down from the roof of the cavern, caused the light to splutter and go out. 

The scout was in the dark with his enemy. 

More than this, he was boxed up in a narrow place, from which escape waswell-nigh impossible. 

Aiming as best he could under the circumstances, he fired. 

The bullet struck the flat rock, bounded up to the side wall of thecavern and then hit him in the leg. 

"Missed, by thunder!"

He jumped past the spot and moved up the cavern a distance of severalyards. 

A rattle and a whirr followed, as the great rattlesnake made a viciousstrike in the dark. An intense hiss sounded out when the reptilerealized that the object of his anger had been missed. 

Listening with strained ears, the boomer heard the deadly thing slidingslowly from rock to rock, coming closer at every movement. 

To flee was impossible, so with bated breath he stood his ground. 

CHAPTER IV. 

OUT OF THE CAVERN. 

Slowly but surely the great rattlesnake came closer to where PawneeBrown stood motionless in the darkness of the cavern. 

The reptile had been enraged by the shot the great scout fired, and nowmeant to strike, and that fatally. 

Listening with ears strained to their utmost, the boomer heard the formof the snake slide from rock to rock of the uneven flooring. 

The rattler was all of ten feet long and as thick around as a good-sizedfence rail. 

One square strike from those poisonous fangs and Pawnee Brown's hourswould be numbered. 

Yet the scout did not intend to give up his life just now. He still heldhis pistol, four chambers of which were loaded. 

"If only I had a light, " he thought. 

Retreat was out of the question. A single sound and the rattlesnakewould have been upon him like a flash. 

It was only the darkness and the utter silence that made the reptilecautious. 

Suddenly the scout heard a scraping on the rocks less than three feet infront of him. 

The time for action had come; another moment and the rattler would bewound around his legs. 

Crack! crack! Two reports rang out in quick succession and by the flashof the first shot Pawnee Brown located those glittering eyes. 

The second shot went true to its mark, and the rattler dropped back witha hole through its ugly head. 

The long, whip like body slashed hither and thither, and the scout hadto do some lively sprinting to keep from getting a tangle and a squeeze. 

As he hopped about he struck a match, picked up the lantern, shook thelittle oil remaining into the wick and lit it. Another shot finished thesnake and the body curled up into a snarl and a quiver, to bother him nomore. 

It was then that Pawnee Brown paused, drew a deep breath and wiped thecold perspiration from his brow. 

"By gosh! I've killed fifty rattlers in my time, but never one in thisfashion, " he murmured. "Wonder if there are any more around?"

He knew that these snakes often travel in pairs, and as he went on hisway he kept his eyes wide open for another attack. 

But none came, and now something else claimed his attention. 

The cavern was coming to an end. The side walls closed in to less thanthree feet, and the flooring sloped up so that he had to crouch down andfinally go forward on his hands and knees. 

The lantern now went out for good, every drop of oil being exhausted. 

At this juncture many a man would have halted and turned back to wherehe had come from, but such was not Pawnee Brown's intention. 

"I'll see the thing through, " he muttered. "I'd like to know how far Iam from the surface of the ground. "

A dozen yards further and the cavern become so small that additionalprogress was impossible. 

He placed his hand above him and encountered nothing but dirt, with hereand there a small stone. 

With care he began to dig away at the dirt with his knife. Less than afoot of the cavern ceiling had thus been dug away when the point of theknife brought down a small stream of water. 

Feeling certain he was now close to the surface, he continued to workwith renewed vigor. 

"At last!"

The scout was right. The knife had found the outer air, and a dim, uncertain light struck down upon the hero of the plains. 

It did not take long to enlarge the opening sufficiently to admit thepassage of Pawnee Brown's body. 

He leaped out among a number of bushes and stretched himself. 

Having brushed the dirt from his wet clothing, he "located himself, " ashe put it, and started up a hill to the entrance to the Devil's Chimney. 

He was on the side opposite to that from which he had descended, and, inorder to get over, had to make a wide detour through some brush andsmall timber. 

This accomplished, he hurried to where he had left Bonnie Bird tethered. 

As the reader knows, the beautiful mare was gone, and had been for sometime. 

"I suppose that young Arbuckle took her, " he mused. "But, if so, whydoesn't he come back here with her?"

There being no help for it, the scout set off for the camp of theboomers on foot. 

He was just entering the temporary settlement when he came face to facewith Jack Rasco, another of the boomers. 

"Pawnee!" shouted the boomer, "You air jess the man I want ter see. Hevye sot eyes on airy o' the Arbuckles?"

"I'm looking for Dick Arbuckle now, " answered the scout. "Isn't he inthe camp? I thought he came here with my mare?"

"He ain't nowhar. Rosy Delaney says he went off with Pumpkin to look forhis dad, who had disappeared----"

"Then he didn't come back? What can have become of him and Bonnie Bird?"Pawnee Brown's face grew full of concern. "Something is wrong aroundhere, Jack, " he continued, and told the boomer of what had happened upat the Devil's Chimney. "First it's the father, and now it's the son andmy mare. I must investigate this. "

"I'm with yer, Pawnee--with yer to the end. Yer know thet. "

"Yes, Jack; you are one of the few men I know I can trust in everything. But two of us are not enough. If harm has befallen the Arbuckles it isthe duty of the whole camp--or, at least, every man in it--to try tosift matters to the bottom. "

"Right ye air, Pawnee. I'll raise a hullabaloo and rouse 'em up. "

Jack Rasco was as good as his word. Going from wagon to wagon, he shookthe sleepers and explained matters. In less than a quarter of an hour adozen stalwart boomers were in the saddle, while Jack Rasco broughtforth an extra horse of his own for Brown's use. 

"Has anybody seen the dunce?" questioned the scout. 

No one had since he had gone off with Dick to look for the so-calledghost. 

"We will divide up into parties of two, " said Pawnee Brown, and this wasdone, and soon he and Jack Rasco were bounding over the trail leadingtoward the Indian Territory, while others were setting off in thedirection of Arkansas City and elsewhere. 

"Something curious about them air Arbuckles, " observed Rasco as theyflew along side by side. "Mortimer Arbuckle said as how he was cominghyer fer his health, but kick me ef I kin see it. "

"I think myself the man has an axe to grind, " responded the leader ofthe boomers. "You know he came West to see about some land. "

"Oh, I know thet. But thar's somethin' else, sure ez shootin' ezshootin', Pawnee. It kinder runs in my noddle thet he is a'lookin' fersomebuddy. "

"Who?"

"Ah, thar's where ye hev got me. But I'll tell ye something. One nightwhen the boy wuz over ter Arkansas City the old man war sleeping in thewagon, an' he got a nightmare. He clenched his fists an' begun ter moanan' groan. 'Don't say I did it, Bolange, ' he moans. 'Don't saythat--it's an awful crime! Don't put the blood on my head!' an' a lotmore like thet, till my blood most run cold an' I shook him ter make himwake up. Now, don't thet look like he had something on his mind?"

"It certainly does, and yet the man is not quite right in his upperstory, although I wouldn't tell the son that, Rasco. But what was thename he mentioned?"

"Bolange, or Volange, or something like thet. It seems ter me hehollered out Louis onct, too. "

A sudden light shone in the great scout's eyes. He gripped his companionby the arm. 

"Try to think, Jack. Did Arbuckle speak the name of Vorlange--LouisVorlange?"

"By gosh! Pawnee, you hev struck it--Vorlange, ez plain ez day. Do yerknow the man?"

"Do I know him?" Pawnee Brown drew a long breath. "Jack, I believe Ionce told you about my schoolboy days at Wellington and elsewhere beforeI left home to take up a life on the cattle trails?"

"Yes, Pawnee. From all accounts you wuz cut out for a schoolmaster, instead of a leader of us boomers. "

"I was a professor once at the Indian Industrial school at PawneeAgency. That is where I got to be called Pawnee Brown, and where thePawnees became so friendly that they made me their white chief. But Iaspired to something more than teaching and more than cow punching inthose boyhood days at Wellington; I wanted to have a try at entrance toWest Point and follow in the footsteps of Grant and Custer, and fellowsof that sort. "

"Ye deserved it, I'll bet, Pawnee. "

"I worked hard for it, and at last I got a chance to compete at theexamination. Among the other boys who competed was Louis Vorlange. Hehad been the bully of our school, and more than once we had fought, andtwice I had sent him to bed with a head that was nearly broken. He hatedme accordingly, and swore I should not win the prize I coveted. "

"Did he try, too?"

"Yes, but he was outclassed from the start, for, although he was sly andshrewd, book learning was too much for him. The examination came off, and I got left, through Vorlange, who stole my papers and changed manyof my answers. I didn't learn of this until it was too late. My chanceof going to West Point fell through. There was nothing to do but tothrash Vorlange, and the day before I left home I gave him a lickingthat I'll wager he'll remember to the day of his death. As it was, hetried to shoot me, but I collared the pistol, and for that dastardlyattack knocked two of his teeth down his throat. "

"Served him right, Pawnee. But I don't see whar--"

"Hold on a minute, Jack. I said Vorlange didn't go to West Point; but hewas strong with the politicians, and as soon as he was old enough he gota position under the government, and now I understand he is somewherearound the Indian Territory acting as a spy for the land department. "

"By gosh! I see. An' ye think Mortimer Arbuckle knows this same chap?"

"It would look so. If I can read faces, the old man is innocent ofwrong-doing, and if that is so and there is the secret of a crimebetween him and Louis Vorlange you can wager Vorlange is the guiltyparty. "

"Pawnee, you hev a head on yer shoulders fit fer a judge, hang me ef yeain't, " burst out Jack Rasco admiringly. "I wish yer would talk toArbuckle the next time he turns up. Mebbe yer kin lift a weight off o'his shoulders. The poor old fellow--creation! wot's that?"

Jack Rasco stopped short and pulled up his horse. A wild, unearthlyscream rent the air, rising and falling on the wind of the night. Thescream was followed by a burst of laughter which was truly demoniacal. 

Pawnee Brown pulled his horse up on his haunches. What was this newmystery which confronted him?

Again the cry rang out; but now the scout recognized it and a faintsmile shone upon his face. 

"It's the dunce, " he exclaimed. "Pumpkin! Pumpkin! Come here!"

A moment of silence followed and he called again. Then from the brushwhich grew among the rocks emerged the form of the half-witted boy. 

"Pumpkin, where is Dick Arbuckle?" questioned Pawnee Brown, leaping tothe ground and catching the lad by his arm. 

"Lemme go! I didn't hurt him!" screamed Pumpkin. "He went that way--likethe wind--on a bay horse which was running away. Oh, he's killed, I knowhe is!"

"You are sure of this?"

"Hope to die if it ain't so. Poor Dick! He'll be pitched off and smashedup like his father was smashed up. Hurry, and maybe you can catch him. "

"I believe the dunce speaks the truth, " broke in Jack Rasco. 

"How long ago was this?"

"Not more'n an hour. Hurry up if you want to save him, " and with a yellsuch as he had uttered before, Pumpkin disappeared. 

Pawnee Brown and Rasco wasted no more time. Whipping up their steeds, they set off on a rapid gallop in the direction the runaway horse hadpursued. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE CAVALRYMEN. 

Let us rejoin Dick Arbuckle at the time that the incensed cavalryman, Tucker, was about to attack the hapless lad with his heavy Sabra. 

Had the cruel blow fallen as intended it is beyond dispute that Dickwould have been severely injured. 

"Don't!" cried the boy, and then closed his eyes at the terrible thoughtof such dire punishment so close at hand. 

But just at that instant an interruption came from out of the darknessof the brush. 

"Hello, there! What are you up to?"

Tucker started, and the Sabra was turned aside to bury itself in theexposed roots of a tree. 

"If it ain't Pawnee Brown!" muttered another cavalryman, Ross by name. 

"Pawnee Brown!" burst from Dick's lips, joyfully, and, rising, heattempted to rush toward his friend. 

"Not so fast, boy!" howled Tucker, and caught the youth by the collar. 

"What's the meaning of this? What are you doing to that boy?" askedPawnee Brown as he rode closer, with Rasco beside him. 

"He's a horse thief, and we are going to take him to our camp, " answeredTucker, somewhat uneasily, for he had seen Pawnee Brown before and knewhe had a man of strong character with whom to deal. 

"A horse thief!" ejaculated Jack Rasco. "Say, sod'ger, yer crazy! Thetboy a thief! Wall, by gum!"

"That boy is no thief, " put in Pawnee Brown. "He belongs to our camp, and is as square as they make them--I'll vouch for it. "

"I ain't taking the word of any boomer, " muttered Tucker sourly. "Thatkid--hold on! Don't shoot!"

And he dropped back in terror, for the great scout had drawn his pistollike a flash. 

"You'll take my word or take something else, " came the stiff response. "Be quick, now, and say which you choose. "

"I didn't mean any harm, Pawnee. Maybe you don't know it, but the boy isa thief just the same. We just caught him riding my horse--this bay. Mycomrades can prove it. "

"It's true, " said Ross. 

"True as gospel, " added Skimmy, the third cavalryman. "We caught himless than half an hour ago. "

Without answering to this, Pawnee Brown turned to the youth. 

"Tell me your yarn, Dick. I know there is some mistake here. "

"There is not much to tell, Major. When the lariat broke up at theDevil's Chimney and I couldn't make you reply to my calls I ran off toget help and a rope. I intended to ride your mare back to camp, but whenI got to where the mare had been tethered I found her gone and this bayloafing around in her place. I got on the bay, but, instead of riding tocamp, the animal ran away with me and brought me here. These fellowswere mighty rough on me, and that man was going to split my head openwhen you came along in the nick of time. "

"That's a neat fairy tale, " sneered Tucker. "This horse was stolen fourhours ago. More than likely the boy couldn't manage him and lost his wayand the horse tried to get back to where he belonged. "

"That doesn't connect with what I know, " answered Pawnee Brown, quietly. "My mare was tethered where he went to look for her. I might as wellaccuse you of riding down there, taking Bonnie Bird and leaving this nagin her place. "

"Do you mean to insinuate we are horse thieves?" cried Ross hotly. 

"I'm giving you as good as you send, that's all. Dick, have you any ideawhere Bonnie Bird is?"

"Not the slightest, sir. "

The great scout heaved a sigh. The little racing mare was the very appleof his eye. 

"I'll not give up the hunt until I have found her. " He turned again tothe cavalrymen. "If the finest little black mare, with a white blaze, that you ever saw strays into your camp remember she belongs to me, " hewent on. "I want her returned at once, and if anybody attempts to keepher there will be a hotter time than this Territory has seen for many aday. Dick, hop up behind me, " and he turned to his horse. 

"That boy is to remain here, " blustered Tucker, growing red in the face. 

"Hardly, my bantam. Hop up, Dick, and we'll strike back for camp beforethe sun comes up and see if the others who are on the search have seenanything of your father. I saw nothing of him at the bottom of theDevil's Chimney. "

"I'm not going to have a lazy, good-for-nothing boomer lay it overme----" began Tucker, when once more the sight of Pawnee Brown's pistolsilenced him. 

No more was said as the scout, Dick and Rasco rode away down the trailby which they had come. But, once out of sight, Tucker raised his fistand shook it savagely. 

"I'll get square with you some day, Pawnee Brown, mark my words!" hemuttered between his set teeth. 

"We'll all get square, " said Ross. "I hate the sight of that man. "

"I understand the boomers have made him their leader, " broke in Skimmy. "If they have, he'll try to break through to Oklahoma as sure as gunsare guns. "

"And he'll get shot, too, " answered Tucker dryly. "The lieutenant ishaving all of the boomers' movements watched. "

"Pawnee Brown will do his level best to give us the slip, see if hedon't, " remarked Skimmy. "Four thousand boomers wouldn't make him theirleader for nothing. "

Thus, talking among themselves, the three cavalrymen mounted theirhorses and rode back to their various picket stations along the boundaryline of the Indian Territory. 

They were a detachment of the Seventh United States Cavalry, and thelieutenant referred to by Tucker was in command. 

For over a month they had been watching the boomers assembling inKansas. Other portions of the United States troops were watching thewould-be Oklahoma settlers in Arkansas and Texas. 

There was every prospect of a lively time ahead, and it was not far off. 

Reaching his station, Tucker drew from his pocket a briar-root pipe, filled and lit it and began to puff away meditatively. 

His face had been ugly before, but now as he began to meditate it grewblacker than ever. 

"Hang me, if everything ain't going wrong, " he muttered. "I won't standit. I'll make a kick, and when I do----" He paused as a shadow among thetrees caught his eye. "Who goes there?" he called out and drew hispistol. 

"A friend. Tucker, is that you?"

"Vorlange!" cried the cavalryman, and the next moment the newcomer andthe military man were face to face. 

"It's about time you showed up, " growled Tucker, after a brief pause, during which the newcomer looked at him anxiously. "Say, Vorlange, whendo you intend to settle up with me. Give it to me straight, now. "

"That's why I left the trail to hunt you up, Tucker--I knew you wereanxious about that five hundred dollars. "

"Why shouldn't I be? It took me a long time to save it--a good sightlonger than it did for you to gamble it away. "

"Tucker, I didn't gamble that away--I'll swear it. I used it inbusiness. "

"Business? What business have you got outside of your position as a landoffice spy?"

"A good business, if you only knew it. I've been following up a littledeal that started in the East--in New York. Out there I had to hire afellow I could trust to work for me, and that took most of the money. But the whole thing is coming my way now, and I want to talk things overwith you. How would you like to have a thousand back in return for thefive hundred you loaned me?"

"What sort of a game are you working on me now?"

"A square deal, Tucker. I've been keeping my eye on you, and I reckonyou are the fellow to do what I want done. "

"And what do you want done?"

Vorlange stepped closer. 

"The boomers are going to try to cross into Oklahoma either to-morrow orday after. There will be a fight, I am certain of it, and somebody willbe shot and killed. When you fire I want you to pick out your man--twomen--or, rather, a man and a boy, if you can do it. I may be on hand totake part myself, but there is a possibility that I may be orderedelsewhere. "

"And you are willing to pay me five hundred extra for picking out mytarget, Vorlange?"

"You've struck it. "

"Who is the man?"

"Can I trust you?"

"Yes. "

"Pawnee Brown. "

At the mention of the great scout's name Tucker started back. 

"Why--why do you want him knocked over?"

"He is my enemy. I have hated him from my boyhood!" cried LouisVorlange. "And there are other reasons--he stands in the way of mypushing the scheme I mentioned. "

"Pawnee Brown was here but a short while ago. He insulted and abusedme, " growled Tucker. "I'll put a bullet through him quick enough if Iget the chance--that is, in a skirmish. I don't want to run any risk ofbeing strung up for--you know. "

"The shooting will be O. K. , Tucker, and I'll help if I'm not orderedaway. Do it and the five hundred extra are yours, I'll give you myword. "

"What about that boy you mentioned?"

"His name is Dick Arbuckle. He is----"

"Dick Arbuckle? I know him. He stole my horse. I captured him and PawneeBrown came to his rescue and made me, Ross and Skimmy give him up, " andTucker gave the particulars in his own version of the affair. 

"Then you bear the lad no love?"

"Love?" The cavalryman grated his teeth. "I was wishing I could get ashot at him. "

"Then keep that wish in mind, Tucker, when the time for action arrives. "

"If it's worth five hundred to you to have Pawnee Brown knocked over itought to be worth more to have both of 'em laid low, " suggested Tucker, who was naturally a grasping fellow. 

"Five hundred in cold cash is a good deal in these times, " was the slowanswer. "But I'll tell you what I'll do. If, after a fight, you canbring me absolute proof that Pawnee Brown and Dick Arbuckle are deadI'll give you an even twelve hundred dollars, the five hundred Iborrowed and seven hundred extra. There's my hand on it. What do yousay?"

"Will you promise to give me the money as soon as you have the proofs?"

"I will, " and Louis Vorlange raised his right hand as though to makegood such a blasphemous promise. 

"All right, then; I take you up, " answered Tucker. 

CHAPTER VI. 

DICK'S HUNT. 

"Don't you take it so hard, my lad; I feel certain that your father willturn up sooner or later. "

It was Pawnee Brown who spoke. He addressed Dick, who sat on a horsebelonging to Jack Rasco. The pair had been scouring the plains and thewoods for three hours in search of Dick's father. 

"Poor father! If only I knew what had become of him!" sighed the lad. 

In his anxiety he had forgotten all about his adventures among thecavalrymen who had sought to detain him as a horse thief. 

"It's a mystery, thet's what it is, " burst in Jack Rasco. 

"It looks loike the hivens hed opened an' swalleyed him up, " was MikeDelaney's comment. "Be jabbers, we all know th' hivens was wide openenough last noight. Me turn-out is afther standin' in two foot o' wather, an' Rosy raisin' the mischief because she can't go out. 'Moike, ' sezshe, 'Moike Delaney, git a boat or Oi'll be drowned, ' an' niver a boatin sight. Th' ould woman will have to shtay in the wagon till the watherruns off of itself. "

"I wonder if it is possible my poor father wandered into town, " musedDick. "Perhaps he did that and was locked up by the police. He is--well, you know he gets strange spells, " and the youth's face flushed. 

"Run into town, lad, and make a search, " answered the boomer. "If I andRasco get the chance we'll follow. We shan't strike camp for severalhours yet. "

Dick thought this good advice and was soon on his way. The rain hadstopped entirely and the sun was just peeping up over the distant plainswhen he entered Arkansas City and began his hunt. 

A visit to the police station speedily revealed the fact that nothingwas known there concerning his missing parent. Here Dick left adescription of his father, and was promised that if anything wasdiscovered of the man word would be sent to him immediately. 

Having ridden around to the depot, hotels and other public places, Dicktied up his steed and began a hunt through the various streets, lookinginto the doors of the stores and saloons as he passed. 

His footsteps soon brought him down to the vicinity of the river front. Here, situated along several blocks, were a number of eating anddrinking houses, patronized principally by river men, gamblers andsimilar persons. 

Having satisfied himself, with a sigh of relief, that his father was notin any of the saloons, the youth came to a halt in front of arestaurant. He had not eaten anything since the evening before, and hisnight of adventures had made him decidedly hungry. 

"I'll get a cup of coffee and some rolls to brace me up, " he thought, and entered the establishment. His order was soon given, and he took aseat at a side table, close to a thin board partition. 

His order served, he was disposing of the last of it, when the sound ofvoices on the other side of the partition attracted his attention. 

"Leave me alone, Juan Donomez!" came in the voice of a girl. "You haveno right to touch me. "

"You are too pretty to be left alone, " came in the slick tones of aMexican vaquero. "Come, now, senorita, give me just one kiss. "

"I will not, and you must leave me alone, " went on the girl, and hertrembling voice showed plainly that she was much frightened. "Where isthe man who sent for me?"

"He is not here yet. "

"I do not believe he sent for me at all. It was a trick of yours to getme here. Let me go. "

"Not yet, senorita; you can go after a while. But first you must give mea kiss. Then I will explain why I had you come. "

As the last words were uttered Dick heard a scurry of feet, then came afaint scream, cut short by the Mexican. The boy waited to hear no more. 

"The contemptible greaser!" he muttered and leaped up. Throwing down theamount of his check on the cashier's desk he hurried from therestaurant. As he had supposed there was a hallway next door, where thetalking he had overheard was taking place. 

"Oh, save me!" cried the girl, and one glance at her told Dick that shewas not over sixteen and as beautiful as any maiden he had ever seen. She was attired in true western style and wore on her mass of shiningcurls a big, soft riding hat. 

"Let that young lady alone, " cried the youth to the Mexican, who glaredat him savagely. "I overheard your talk, and if she wants to leave sheshall do it. "

"Oh, thank you for coming to my aid, " burst out the girl gratefully. "This bad man----"

"Say no more, Nellie Winthrop, " interrupted the Mexican. "Go to therear. I will attend to this cub who dares to interfere with mybusiness. "

And he shoved the girl behind him. His roughness made Dick's blood boilover, and, rushing forward, he put out his foot, gave a push, and JuanDonomez measured his length upon the floor. 

During the encounter Nellie Winthrop had escaped to the front end of thehallway, and here Dick now joined her. 

"We might as well go, " said the youth. 

"Yes, yes; let us get out as quickly as we can, " answered the girltrembling. "He may attempt to attack you. "

"I ought to hand him over to the authorities, but I won't, " said Dick. "Come, " and he opened the door and followed her to the street. 

"I shall never forget you for your kindness, " the girl burst out as soonas they had left the vicinity of the spot where the trouble hadoccurred. "You are very brave, Mr. ----"

"I'm only Dick Arbuckle, Miss----"

"Nellie Winthrop is my name. I just reached Arkansas City yesterday. Iam from Peoria, and am looking for my uncle, who is somewhere among theOklahoma boomers. "

"Indeed! I'm one of the boomers myself--at least, I've been with them agood part of the time. Perhaps I know your uncle. What is his name?"

"John Rasco, but I believe the men all call him Jack Rasco. "

"Why, is it possible! I know Jack Rasco well--in fact, my father and Ihave been stopping with him ever since we came on from New York. As soonas the rush into Oklahoma was over my father was going to get your uncleto locate a certain mine claim in the West for him--a claim that belongsto us, but which can't be located very easily, it seems. "

"And where is my uncle now?" demanded Nellie Winthrop. 

"At the boomers' camp, I suppose. You see, " went on Dick, his facefalling, "there is something wrong afoot. " And in a few words he told ofhis father's disappearance and of the search being made to find him. 

"I sincerely trust he is safe, " said Nellie when he had concluded. "Ipresume you want to resume your search. Do not let me detain you. If youare among the boomers we will certainly meet again, " and she held outher hand. 

"Do you feel safe enough to find the camp alone?" he asked. "Perhaps Ihad better take you there. It is about a mile in that direction, " and heindicated the locality with a wave of his hand. 

"I feel safe enough in the open air, " she smiled. "It was only when thatMexican had me cornered in a dark hallway that I felt alarmed. I wasborn and brought up on the plains, and I've been to Peoria only to geteducated, as they say. I've a horse at the livery stable, and I can ridethe distance. "

"May I ask how you fell in with that greaser?"

"I think he overheard me asking for my uncle at the hotel, and afterthat he sent a note saying my uncle was at the place where you found me. I saw him first on the train, where he tried his best to get someinformation from me about some horses. But I told him little, " concludedthe girl. 

Five minutes later they parted at the livery stable, where Nellie hadleft her horse, and Dick went on his way to continue his search for hislost parent. The girl had thanked him again for what he had done and hadsqueezed his hand so warmly that his heart thumped pretty hard, whilehis face was flushed more than ever before. 

CHAPTER VII. 

OUT ON THE RIVER. 

For over half an hour longer Dick tramped the streets of the citylooking for some trace of his father. 

Presently he found himself down by the docks along the muddy river. Thestream was much swollen, and the few boats tied up were bumping freelyagainst the shore as the current swung them in. 

"I wonder if father could have come down here?" he mused. "He had agreat fondness for the water when he got those strange spells. "

Slowly and with eyes wide open he moved down the river shore, ready toseize upon any evidence which might present itself. 

Suddenly he uttered a cry and leaped down into a rowboat lying before, him. 

"Father's hat! I'd know it among a thousand!"

Dick was right. There on the stern seat of the craft rested thehead-covering Mortimer Arbuckle had worn ever since he had left NewYork. 

The tears stood in the youth's eyes as he picked up the hat andinspected it. One side of the brim was covered with dirt, and it wasstill soaked from the rain. 

"Poor father! Is it possible he fell overboard?"

Dick said "fell overboard, " but he thought something else. He knew aswell as anybody that his father did strange things while under theinfluence of the melancholy spells which at times haunted him. 

He looked up and down the stream. Nothing was in sight but the boats andhere and there a mass of driftwood. 

He sat down on the seat and covered his face with his hands. 

"Say, boy, wot yer doin' in my boat?"

It was a burly fellow standing upon the shore who asked the question. 

"Excuse me; I am looking for my father, who is missing. I just found hishat on the seat here. Did you see anything of him?"

"Missing, eh--an' thet's his headgear? Say, boy, thet's no laughin'matter, " and the burly fellow looked at the youth kindly. 

"I know it. I am afraid he tumbled overboard. He had times when hewasn't feeling quite right in his head. "

The burly individual whistled softly to himself. "Then I reckon Sary wasright, arter all, " he half mused. 

"Sary? Who do you mean?"

"Sary's my wife. She woke me up about five o'clock this mornin'. We liveup in the shanty yonder. Sary said she heard somebody moanin' an'yellin' down here. I said she wuz dreamin', but I allow now ez I mighthev been mistook, eh?"

"You didn't come out to investigate?"

"No; it war too stormy. I listened, but there wuz no more of the noisearter Sary waked me up. If yer father fell overboard I'm mighty sorryfer yer. If he did go over his body must be a long way down stream bythis time. "

"Poor father!" It was all Dick could say. He and his parent had beenalone in the wide world, and now to think that his only relative wasgone was almost beyond endurance. 

"Take the boat and go down if yer want to, " went on the burlyindividual. "Ye can leave the craft at Woolley's mill. I'd go along, only the old woman's took sick an' I've got to hustle fer a doctor. "

"I will take a look around in the boat, " answered Dick, and, havingprocured the oars, he set off. The current was so strong it was notnecessary to use the blades, and he had all he could do to keep thecraft from spinning around and dashing itself against the shore or theother boats which lay along both banks. 

On and on the rowboat sped, until about a quarter of a mile had beencovered. Nothing unusual had yet been noted, yet the boy kept his eyesstrained for some sign of his father, praying inwardly that all mightstill be well with the only one who was left to him. 

"If father is dead, what shall I do?" he thought with a shiver. "He hadall of our money with him, all of those precious papers, everything. Iwould be left a pauper, and, worse than that, without a single relativein the wide world. Oh, pray Heaven he is spared to me!"

"Look out there, youngster!"

It was a wild cry, coming from a bend in the stream. Dick had beengazing across the river. Now he turned to behold his craft rushingswiftly toward the trunk of a half-submerged tree which the storm hadtorn away from the shore. 

The river was almost a torrent at this place. 

He grasped the oars, intending to turn the boat from its mad course. Butthe action came too late. Crash! The craft struck a sharp branch of thetree with fearful force, staving in the bow completely, and the nextinstant the boy was hurled headlong into the boiling and foamingcurrent. 

[Illustration: "The next instant the boy was hurled headlong intothe boiling and foaming current"]

CHAPTER VIII. 

EXPOSING A SWINDLER. 

It was less than an hour after separating from Dick Arbuckle that PawneeBrown found his way to Arkansas City. 

He was accompanied by Jack Rasco and Cal Clemmer, and the great scout'sobject was not alone to aid Dick in the search for Mortimer Arbuckle, but also to help Cal Clemmer get back some money out of which the cowboyboomer claimed he had been swindled. 

Clemmer had played cards with a certain sharp known as Pete Stillwater, and lost two hundred and fifty dollars. At first he had imagined he hadlost it fairly enough, but after thoughts, coupled with what he heard onthe sly the next day, made him certain that Stillwater had cheated him. 

He had brought his case to Pawnee Brown, and the leader of the boomersat once concluded that the gambler had not acted fairly. He had metStillwater at Wichita, where the gambler's reputation was far fromsavory. 

"You were a fool to bet at cards, Cal, " he said flatly. "But that is noreason why Stillwater should cheat you. I'll do what I can, but you mustpromise to leave playing for high stakes alone in the future. "

"Don't yer fear, Pawnee, " was Clemmer's ready reply. "A scorched Injunkeeps hez distance from the blaze, don't he? Wall, I'm the scorchedInjun in this air case. Git back my money fer me an' I won't playnothin' higher then penny-ante ez long ez I live. "

The gambling resort at which Stillwater was holding forth was soonreached, and the three entered, to find the place comfortably crowded byboomers, men-about-town, cowboys and gamblers, all anxious to add totheir wealth without working. As Pawnee Brown surveyed the assemblagehis lip curled with a sarcasm which was by no means displaced. 

"Poor fools!" he thought; "they expect to win, and nine-tenths of themare bound in the end to be fleeced out of all they possess. Why men whohave brains will throw away good money in this fashion is more than Ican understand. "

"Thar's Stillwater, " whispered Cal Clemmer. "Hang hez hide, I'd like terwring hez neck fer him. "

"Better wring his money bag first, " smiled Pawnee Brown. 

Without hesitation he called Stillwater outside and explained thesituation. 

"You can say what you please, Stillwater, " he said. "I am certain youhave been cheating, for I know your past record. You must restore thatmoney and do it right away. "

A stormy war of words followed, but Pawnee Brown was firm and at lastStillwater gave up about a hundred dollars--all he had with him. 

He went off vowing vengeance and when at a safe distance turned and drewa pistol from his pocket. 

"He's going to shoot ye!" cried one of the boomers, but Stillwater wasafraid to fire. As Pawnee Brown started after him on a run the gamblerfled toward the river. 

"Let us go after him!" cried one of the others, and away they went. Soonthey came in sight of the river and saw Stillwater in a small craft, sculling his way to the opposite shore. Presently a bend in the streamhid him from view. 

"Hullo!" sang out Pawnee Brown. "Here comes another rowboat, and--yes, there is Dick Arbuckle in it. What can he be doing on the river?"

"The boat is makin' fer thet half-sunk tree!" interrupted Cal Clemmer. "He'll strike ef he don't look out! Heavens!"

"Look out there, youngster!" yelled Pawnee Brown, and those were thewords which attracted Dick's attention, as mentioned in the formerchapter. 

It was useless to say more. Standing upon the bank, Pawnee Brown and thecowboy boomer saw the craft strike and go to pieces and saw Dick thrownout into the madly rushing current. 

As the boy sped along his head came into painful contact with thefurthest of the tree branches, and he was partially stunned. His eyesclosed and he struck out wildly and ineffectually. 

"He'll be drowned!" gasped Clemmer. "It would take a strong swimmer togain the bank with the water runnin' ez it is to-day. "

"I don't believe he could catch a rope, " answered Pawnee Brown, startingoff down the river bank. "Cal, hunt one up somewhere; I'm going in afterhim!"

"But the risk----"

"Never mind the risk. Get the rope if you can, " and away went the scoutagain. 

"Help!" came faintly from Dick. He was dazed and weak, and could hardlysee in what direction the shore really was. 

"Keep up, boy, and we'll save you!" shouted Pawnee Brown encouragingly. 

Reaching a spot twenty or thirty feet below where Dick was drifting, hethrew off his hat and coat and leaped into the stream. 

Down he went over his head, to come up a second later and strike outpowerfully for the youth. The cold water chilled him, but to this hepaid no attention. He had taken a fancy to Dick, and was resolved tosave the boy at any cost. 

Nearer and nearer he came. It was a tough struggle, for in the bend ofthe swollen stream the water boiled and foamed upon all sides. He wasyet ten feet away from Dick, when he saw the youth sink beneath thesurface. 

"Gone!" he thought, and made a leap and a dive. His outstretched handcame in contact with Dick's left arm, and he dragged his burden upward. 

"Keep cool, Dick, " he said when he could speak. "Can't you swim?"

"Yes, but not extra well, " panted the half-drowned lad. "I struck myhead upon something. "

"Then lay hold of my shoulder and I'll keep you up. Steady, now, or thecurrent will send us around like two tops. "

No more was said, as both felt they must save their breath. With Dickclinging loosely, so as not to hinder his swimming, Pawnee Brown struckout for the shore. 

It was perilous work, for other trees and obstructions were upon everyhand, and more than once both were torn and scratched as they sped by inwhat was little short of a whirlpool. 

"Catch the rope!" suddenly came from Clemmer, and a noose whizzed in theair and fell close beside the pair. Both Pawnee Brown and Dick did asrequested, and the cowboy boomer began to haul in with all the strengthat his command. It was hard work, but Clemmer was equal to it, andpresently those in the water came close enough to gain a footing, andthen the peril was over. 

Dick's story was soon told, to which the great scout added that of hisown. 

"I shall not attempt to follow up Stillwater, " Pawnee Brown concluded. "It is high time I got back to camp, for let me tell you, privately, wemove westward to-day. You may continue the hunt for your father or comewith me, just as you choose. It is possible you may find some trace ofhim around here, but it is doubtful to me, after such a storm. It's hardlines, boy, but cheer up; things may not be as bad as you imagine, " andhe laid a dripping but affectionate arm upon Dick's shoulder. 

"I will stay here for a while, at least, " answered Dick. "But--but I amwithout a cent, and----"

"How much do you want, Dick?" and Pawnee Brown's pocketbook came outwithout delay. 

"If you will lend me ten dollars----"

"Here are twenty. When you want more let me know. Now, goodbye, and goodluck to you. "

And the next minute Pawnee Brown and Clemmer were gone. Dick watchedthem out of sight and a warm feeling went over his heart. 

"The major is as generous as he is brave, " he murmured. "He is one scoutof a thousand. No wonder all the boomers asked him to lead them in thisexpedition. "

Ten minutes later Dick was drying himself at the fire in a house nearby. Hearing his tale of misfortune, the man who took him in insistedupon treating him to some hot coffee, which did a good bit toward makinghim feel once more like himself. 

"It may be a wild-goose chase, but I can't give it up, " he muttered ashe continued his search by walking along the river bank. "Poor father, where can he be?"

The outskirts of the city had been left behind and he was making his waythrough a tangle of brush and over shelving rocks. A bend was passed andhe gave a wild cry. 

And small wonder. There on the river bank lay the motionless form of hisparent, dripping yet with the water of the river. The eyes were closedas if in death. With a moan Dick threw himself forward and caught one ofthe cold hands within his own. Then he placed his ear to his parent'sheart. 

"Too late! He is gone!" he wailed. "Poor, poor father, dead after all!Oh, if only I had died with you!" and he sank back utterly overcome. 

CHAPTER IX. 

MIKE AND THE MULES. 

"We move in an hour!"

This was the word which was whispered about the boomers' camp shortlyafter Pawnee Brown's arrival. 

The great scout had found it out of the question to attempt to enter theIndian Territory in a direct route from Arkansas City. The governmenttroops were watching the trail, and the soldiers were backed up by thecattle kings' helpers, who would do all in their power to harass thepioneers and make them turn back. 

Many a man would have gone ahead with a rush, but Pawnee Brown knewbetter than to do this. If he was brave, he was also cautious. 

"A rush now would mean people killed, horses shot down or poisoned, wagons ditched, harnesses cut up and a thousand and one otherdisasters, " he said. "We must beat the cattle kings at their own game. We will move westward to Honnewell either this afternoon or tonight. Get ready to go on whenever the signal is passed. "

"But vot goot vill it do to vait by Honnvell?" questioned CarlHumpendinck, a German boomer. 

"We'll not wait very long there, " answered Pawnee Brown. 

So the word went around that the boomers would move in an hour. This wasnot actually true, but it was necessary to spread some report of thiskind in order to make the slow ones hustle. If left to themselves thesefew would not have gotten ready in two days. 

"It's a move we are afther makin' at last, is it?" burst out RosyDelaney when Mike brought the news. "Sure, an' Oi'm ready, MoikeDelaney, but how are ye to git this wagon out av thet bog hole, Oidunno. "

"Oi'll borry a horse, " answered Mike. "It's Jack Rasco will lind me thesame. "

Mike ran around to where Jack Rasco was in earnest conversation with astranger who had just come in from town. The stranger had brought aletter from Nellie Winthrop, posted two days before, and saying when shewould arrive. The letter caused Rasco not a little worry, as so far thegirl had failed to appear. 

"I haven't any horse to spare just now, Mike, " he said; "but hold on, you can have Billy, the mule, if you wish. "

There was a little twinkle in his eyes as he spoke, but Mike didn't seethe twinkle and readily accepted the mule and led him over to where hisown turn-out stood. 

"Moike Delaney, phot kind av a horse do yez call that?" demanded Rosy. 

"It's a mule, ye ignoramus, " he answered. "An' a good puller, I'll betme whiskers. Just wait till Oi hitch him beside the tame. "

Billy was soon hitched up as Mike desired, and the Irishman proceeded tourge him forward with his short whip. 

It was then the fun began. Billy did not appreciate being called upon todo extra work. Instead of pulling, he simply turned around, tangling upand breaking the harness, and began to kick up the black prairie dirtwith both hind hoofs. 

"Oh, the villain!" spluttered Rosy Delaney, who received the firstinstallment of dirt full in her eyes and mouth. "Moike Delaney, ye madehim do that a-purpose!" and she shook her fist at her husband. "Yebould, bad mon!"

"Oi did not, " he ejaculated. "Git back there, ye baste!" he added, andtried to hit Billy with his whip. The knowing mule dodged and, turningswiftly, planted a hoof in Mike's stomach so slickly that the Irishmanwent heels over head into a nearby puddle. 

A shout arose from those standing near. 

"Score one round for the mule!"

"Mike, thet summersault war good enough fer a show. Better jine thecircus!"

"Oi'll show the mule!" yelled Mike, and rushed in again. But once moreBilly turned and got out of the way, and this time he caught the seat ofMike's trousers between his teeth and lifted the frightened man six feetfrom the ground. 

"Don't! Let me down! Somebody save me!" yelled the terrorized son ofErin. "Rosy! Clemmer! Rasco! Hit him! Shoot him! Make him let go av me!Oi'll be kilt entoirely!"

Outsiders were too much amused to help Mike, but Rosy came to the rescuewith a woman's best weapon--a rolling-pin, one she occasionally used inmaking pies for the family when in camp. Whizz! came the rolling-pinthrough the air, hitting Billy on the ear. The mule gave a short snort, broke what remained of the harness and scampered off to make a completecircuit of the camp and then fall into his regular place near JackRasco's turn-out. 

"Want him some more?" asked Jack, who had seen the fun, and wascompelled to laugh, in spite of his worry. 

"Want him some more, is it?" growled Mike. "Not fer a thousand dollars, Rasco! Yez kin kape the mule, an' be hanged to yez!" and he stalked offto borrow a horse that was warranted to be gentle under the most tryingof circumstances. 

In the meantime Pawnee Brown was completing his arrangements for movingto Honnewell and then to enter the promised land by way of Bitter Creekand the Secaspie River. Scouts sent out to watch had reported that thecavalry were watching every movement closely, but Pawnee Brown did notdream that Louis Vorlange had overheard what was said at a meeting inthe woods, or that this scoundrel had hired Tucker, the cavalryman, toshoot down both himself and Dick Arbuckle. 

Presently Jack Rasco found his way to the scout's side. 

"Pawnee, if you can spare a little time I would like your advice, " hesaid, and mentioned the letter from Nellie Winthrop. "It's mightystrange the gal don't turn up, ain't it?"

"Perhaps so; but she may have been detained, " answered the scout. 

At this Rasco shook his head. The bearer of the letter had seen Nellie'sname on the hotel register. Something was wrong, he felt sure of it. Theletter had contained Nellie's photograph, and he showed it to PawneeBrown as he asked for permission to leave his work of assisting theboomers to be prepared for a moving in order to pay Arkansas Cityanother visit. 

"Go on, Jack. You're my right-hand man, but I'll manage somehow withoutyou, " answered the great scout. "A pretty niece for any man to have, "and he handed back the photograph, after a somewhat close inspection. Two minutes later found Jack Rasco on his way, to encounter adventuresof which he had never imagined. 

"A note for you, Pawnee. " It was one of the scouts sent out that morningwho spoke as he rode up. Pawnee Brown read the communication withinterest. 

 "Come up to the ravine back of Honnewell as soon as possible, " ran the note. "I think the cavalry are up to some new dodge, or else the cattle men are going to play us foul. Urgent. DAN GILBERT. "

"I must away, boys!" cried Pawnee Brown, tearing up the note. "Be readyto move, but don't stir until you hear from me, " and, giving a few moreinstructions, he borrowed a fresh horse from Carl Humpendinck and setoff on a gallop of twelve miles across the country. 

As he covered mile after mile, through woods and over stretches of broadprairie, he could not help but think of his racing mare, Bonnie Bird. How she would have enjoyed this outing, and how she would have coveredthis ground with her twinkling feet. 

"I must find her and find the rascal who stole her!" he muttered. "Iwouldn't take twenty thousand dollars for Bonnie, " and he meant what hesaid. The little mare and the great scout were almost inseparable. 

The afternoon sun was sinking low when Pawnee Brown struck the outskirtsof Honnewell (spelled by some writers, Honeywell). Not caring to be seenin that town by the government agents, who might inform the cavalry thatthe boomers were moving in that direction, the scout took to a sidetrail, leading directly for the ravine mentioned in the letter. 

Soon he was picking his way down a path covered with brush and loosestones. Upon either side were woods, and so thick no sunlightpenetrated, making the spot gloomy and forbidding. 

"Now, I suppose I'll have no picnic in finding Dan, " he mused. "I'llgive the signal. "

The shrill cry of a night bird rang out upon the air, and Pawnee Brownlistened attentively for a reply. None came, and he repeated the cry, with the same result. 

"I'll have to push on a bit further, " he thought, and was just about tourge forward his horse when a crashing on the opposite side of theravine caught his ear. Instinctively he withdrew to the shelter of somebrush to learn who the newcomer might be. 

He was not kept long in waiting. The sounds came closer and closer, andpresently a tall Indian came into view, astride a horse, and carrying anodd-looking burden in his arms. 

"Yellow Elk!" almost burst from Pawnee Brown's lips. The Indian hementioned was a well-known chief, a warrior noted for his many crimes, and a redskin whom the government agent had tried in vain to subdue. 

The scout crouched back still further and drew his pistol, for he feltthat Yellow Elk was on no lawful errand, and a meeting would most likelymean a fight. Then he made a discovery of still greater importance--tohim. 

"Bonnie Bird, as sure as shooting! So Yellow Elk is the horse thief. Therascal! I've a good mind to shoot him down where he sits!" He handledhis pistol nervously. "What is that he is carrying, wrapped up in hisblanket? Ha!"

A murmur of amazement could not now be suppressed. In shifting hisburden from one shoulder to the other the Indian had allowed theblanket to fall partly back, and there was now revealed to Pawnee Brownthe head and shoulders of a beautiful, but unconscious white girl. Norwas that all. The girl was--Nellie Winthrop!

CHAPTER X. 

MR. ARBUCKLE'S STORY. 

"Father! father! speak to me! Tell me that you are not dead!"

Over and over again did poor Dick repeat these words as he sat by theside of that wet and motionless form on the muddy river bank. The boy'sheart seemed to be breaking. 

But suddenly there came a change. He saw one of his father's armsquiver. Then came a faint twitching of an eyelid. 

"He is alive!" gasped Dick. The joy of the discovery nearly paralyzedhim. "Father! father!"

No answer came back, indeed, it was not to be expected. Kneeling overhis parent, Dick set to work to resuscitate the almost drowned man. 

Fortunately the youth had, during his school days in New York, heard alecture on what was best to do in just such a case, so he did not laborin ignorance. His treatment was as skillful as memory and his love forhis parent could make it, and in less than half an hour he had thesatisfaction of seeing his father give a gasp and open his eyes. 

"Father, don't you know me?"

"Dick!" came the almost inaudible reply. "Where--where am I?"

"You are safe, father. You fell into the river and came near todrowning. "

"Is that so? I did not know there was a river near here. "

Mr. Arbuckle was silent for several minutes, during which Dick continuedhis work and made him as comfortable as possible by wrapping his parentin his own dry coat. 

"Where is that rascal?"

"What rascal, father?"

"The man with the red mask--the fellow who struck me down?"

"I do not know. So you were struck down? Where?"

"Just outside of the boomers' camp. Somebody brought me word that PawneeBrown wanted to see me privately. I went, and a rascal rushed on me anddemanded my private papers. I resisted and he struck me down. I know nomore than that, " and Mr. Arbuckle gave another gasp. His eyes were open, but in them was that uncertain look which Dick had seen before, andwhich the lad so much dreaded. 

"Why, you were struck down last night, father, and several miles fromhere. You must have come down to the river at a spot above here. Don'tyou remember that?"

Mortimer Arbuckle tried to think, then shook his head sadly. 

"It's all a blur, Dick. You know my head is not as strong as it mightbe. "

"Yes, yes; and you must not try to think too far. So he got your privatepapers?"

"Yes. "

"The ones referring to that silver mine in Colorado?"

"Yes, and all of the others. "

At this Dick could not help but groan. The papers were gone--thoseprecious documents by which he and his father had hoped some day tobecome rich. 

The history of the deeds to the silver mine was a curious one. Two yearsbefore Mortimer Arbuckle had paid a visit to Creede, Colorado, onbusiness connected with a mining company then forming under the laws ofthe State of New York. 

While in Creede the man had materially assisted an old miner namedBurch, who was falling into the hands of a set of swindlers headed by arascal called Captain Mull. 

Mortimer Arbuckle had never met Captain Mull, but he had saved Burch'sclaim for him, for which the old miner was extremely grateful. 

Over a year later Burch had died and left with another old miner thedeeds to a new mine of great promise, deeds which had not yet beenrecorded. 

The old miner had forwarded these papers, along with others ofimportance concerning the exact location of the claim, to MortimerArbuckle, and the gentleman had then begun preparations to go to theWest and see if the claim was really as valuable as old Burch hadimagined. 

Dick was just out of school, and would not think of remaining behind, soit was arranged that father and son should go together. 

A spell of sickness had detained the father several months. Before this, however, he had hired Jack Rasco to go to Creede with him and assist inlocating the new claim. 

As Mortimer Arbuckle failed to come West, Jack Rasco returned to thecompanionship of Pawnee Brown, for, as already stated, he consideredhimself the great boomer's right-hand man. 

At last Mortimer Arbuckle had come on with Dick, to find Rasco had givenhis word to Pawnee Brown to stick with the boomers until the desiredentrance into Oklahoma was effected. 

"Yer will hev ter wait, Mr. Arbuckle, " Jack had said. "I'm sorry, but Ihev given my word ter Pawnee an' I wouldn't break it fer a cool million, thet's me. "

"Let us go with the boomers!" Dick had returned enthusiastically. "Itwill be lots of fun, father, and it will give you a chance to get backyour health before you tie yourself down to those silver mine schemes. "

And rather against his wishes Mortimer Arbuckle had consented. Dick sawhis father was in no mental condition to locate claims, form a newmining company, and do other labor of this sort, and trusted that thedays to be spent with the boomers would make him much stronger in bothbody and mind. 

"Do you think the robber thought of the deeds when he robbed you?" wenton Dick, after a pause. 

"I--I--don't know, Dick. It runs in my mind he spoke of the deeds, but Ican't remember for certain. "

"He took your money?"

"Every cent. " Mortimer Arbuckle gave a groan. "We are now out herepenniless, my son. "

"No we are not, father. I asked Pawnee Brown for the loan of ten dollarsand he gave me twenty, and said I could have more if I needed it. "

"A good man--as generous as he is brave, " murmured Mortimer Arbuckle. "Would the world had more of such fellows. "

"Pawnee Brown and Jack Rasco are the best fellows in the world!"answered the youth. "But, come, let me carry you to yonder house, whereyou can get dry and also get something to eat. "

He assisted his parent to his feet, then lifted the man to his back andstarted off. A backwoodsman saw him coming, and ran to meet him. SoonMortimer Arbuckle was in the house and lying tucked in on a warm couch. 

A relapse followed, coming almost immediately after father and son hadexchanged stories and detail. In alarm Dick sent off the backwoodsmanfor a doctor. The medical man was half an hour in coming. After athorough examination he looked grave. 

"The man must be kept absolutely quiet, " he said. "If you have beentalking to him it has done him more harm than good. You had better goaway and leave him among strangers. "

In a further conversation Dick learned that the backwoodsman, Peter Day, and his wife were ready to take charge of the invalid for fair pay, andcould be trusted to do their best, and it was arranged to leave Mr. Arbuckle at the house, while Dick returned to camp, hunted up PawneeBrown and Jack Rasco and tried to get on the track of the man of the redmask. 

"And if I ever get hold of him I'll--I'll--mash him, " said Dick, and thelook on his youthful but stern face told that he meant just what hesaid. The western idea of shooting had not yet entered his mind, but woeto Louis Vorlange if his villainy was once unmasked. 

"Do not worry about me, father, " said Dick taking his departure. "I willtake care of myself, and I am sure that either Pawnee Brown, Jack Rascoor myself can get on the track of the rascal who robbed and struck youdown. "

"Be cautious, Dick, " murmured the sick man. "Be cautious--for you areall the world to me!" and he kissed his son affectionately. 

"Who could have attacked father?" he murmured, half aloud. "It was adastardly thing to do. I must find out, even if I have to remain in thecity. But who knows but what it was one of the boomers? Perhaps the mansaw father had money and only asked about his papers to put him off thetrack. As a rule, the boomers are as honest as men can be, but there areseveral hang-dog faces among them. "

Dick had covered a distance of half a mile and was within sight of thespot where he had been rescued by Pawnee Brown from a watery grave, whena murmur of voices broke upon his ear, coming from a thicket down by theriver bank. The murmur grew louder and he paused to listen. 

Suddenly two pistol shots rang out, followed by a cry of pain and rage. There was a brief silence, then came the words which made Dick's heartalmost stop beating:

"Now I'll fix you for helping to run me out of town, Jack Rasco! I neverforget my enemies!"

CHAPTER XI. 

A STRANGE LETTER. 

To return to Pawnee Brown at the time when he made the double discoverythat Yellow Elk, the rascally Indian, was riding his stolen mare, BonnieBird, and had as his fair captive Nellie Winthrop, Jack Rasco's niece. 

For the moment the great scout was nearly dum founded by the revelation. He had not met Yellow Elk for several months, and had imagined that theIndian chief was safe within the territorial reservation allotted to himand his tribe. 

As Yellow Elk shifted his fair burden, Nellie Winthrop's eyes opened andshe started up in alarm. 

"Oh, you beast! Let me go!" she screamed faintly. She was about to saymore, but Yellow Elk clapped a dirty hand over her mouth and silencedher. 

"No speak more, " he muttered in his broken English. "White girl speaktoo much. "

"But--but where are you taking me? This is not the boomers' camp. "

"We come to camp soon--girl in too much hurry, " rejoined the wilyredskin. 

"I was told the camp was but a short distance out of town. "

"Camp he move. Pawnee Brown not safe near big town, " went on Yellow Elk. 

"You're a good one for fairy tales, " was the boomer's silent comment. Hehad withdrawn to the shelter of the thick brush and sat his steed like astatue, while his pistol was ready for use, with his forefinger upon thetrigger. 

"But--but--what happened to me?" went on Nellie, struggling to sit up, while Yellow Elk held her back. 

"White girl lose breath and shut eyes, " was the answer, meaning thatNellie had fainted. "No more fight--Yellow Elk no hurt her. "

"I will go no further with you--I do not believe your story!" criedNellie. "Let me down. "

At these words the face of the Indian chief grew dark, and he mutteredseveral words in his own language which Nellie did not understand, butwhich Pawnee Brown made out to be that the White Bird was too sweet tobe lost so easily, he must take her to his cave in the mountains. 

"Will you?" murmured Pawnee Brown. "Well, maybe, but not if I know it. "

The mentioning of a cave in the mountains made Pawnee Brown curious. DidYellow Elk have such a hiding place? Where was it located, and was theIndian chief its only user?

"Perhaps some more of these reds have broken loose, " he thought. "Iwould like to investigate. Who knows but what the cavalrymen are afterthem and not the boomers, as Dan Gilbert imagined. "

A brief consideration of the subject and his mind was made up. So longas the Indian did not offer positive harm to Nellie Winthrop he wouldnot expose himself, but follow on behind, in hope of locating the caveand learning more of Yellow Elk's intended movements. 

"Let me go, I say!" cried Nellie, but the Indian chief merely shook hishead. 

"White girl be no fool. Indian friend; no hurt one hair of her head. Soon we be in camp and she will see what a friend Yellow Elk has been. "

At this Nellie shook her head. That painted and dirty face was far toorepulsive to be trusted. But there was no help for it; the Indian heldher as in a vise, and she was forced to submit. 

Moving along the trail, Indian and horse passed within a dozen feet ofwhere Pawnee Brown sat, still as silent as a block of marble. It was atrying moment. What if the horse he rode should make a noise, or if hisown Bonnie Bird should instinctively discover him and give the alarm?

"Poor Bonnie Bird, to have to carry a dirty redskin, " thought theboomer. The ears of the beautiful mare went up as she drew close, andshe appeared to hesitate. But Yellow Elk urged her along by severalpunches in the ribs, and in a moment more the danger of discovery justthen was past. 

On went the tall Indian along the ravine, peering cautiously ahead, withone hand around Nellie's waist and the other holding the reins and hispistol. He knew he was on a dangerous mission, and he stood ready, ifunmasked, to sell his worthless life dearly. 

Pawnee Brown followed at a distance of a hundred feet, taking care topick his way so that his horse's hoofs should strike only the dirt andsoft moss, and that the brush growing among the tall trees should screenhim as much as possible. 

Presently he saw the Indian halt and stare long and hard at a tall pinegrowing in front of a large flat rock. 

"Wonder if he has missed his way?" mused the scout, but a moment laterYellow Elk proceeded onward, faster than ever. 

Coming up to the pine, Pawnee Brown saw instantly what had attracted theredskin's attention. There was a blaze on the tree six inches square, and on the blaze was written in charcoal:

 10 f. E. D. G. 

"Hullo, a message from Dan, " he cried, half aloud. He had read thestrange marking without difficulty. It ran as follows:

"Ten feet east. DAN GILBERT. "

Pacing off the ten feet in the direction indicated, Pawnee Brown locateda flat rock. Raising this, he uncovered a small, circular hole, in thecentre of which lay a leaf torn from a note book, on which was written:

"I write this to notify Pawnee Brown or any of my other friends that Ihave gone up the ravine on the trail of half a dozen cavalry scouts whoare up here, not only to watch for boomers, but also to try and locateseveral Indians who have left the reservation without permission. I willbe back soon. DAN GILBERT. "

The boomer read the note with interest. Then he hastily scribbled offthe answer:

"Have read the note that was left. Am following Yellow Elk, who stole mymare and has Jack Rasco's niece a captive. Yellow Elk is bound for somecave in the mountains. PAWNEE BROWN. "

The answer finished, the boomer placed it in the hole, let back the flatrock and wrote on the blaze of the tree, under Dan Gilbert's initials:

 P. B. 

CHAPTER XII. 

YELLOW ELK. 

The writing of the answer to Gilbert's communication had taken severalminutes, and now Yellow Elk was entirely out of sight. But Pawnee Brownwas certain of the trail the Indian had taken, and by a little fasterriding soon brought the rascal again into view. 

Yellow Elk was now descending into a valley bound on the north by arolling hill and on the south by a cliff varying from twenty to fortyfeet in height. Even at a distance Pawnee Brown could see that theIndian was having considerable trouble with Nellie Winthrop, who feltnow assured that her first suspicions were correct and that Yellow Elkhad taken her far from the boomers' camp. 

"I will not go with you!" cried the girl, and did her best to break fromthe warrior's grasp. But Yellow Elk's hold was a good one, and she onlysucceeded in tearing her dress. 

"We be dare in few minutes now, " replied the redskin. "Den all beright--you wait and see. "

"I won't go with you--let me down!" screamed Nellie, but he silenced herby a fierce gesture which made the boomer's blood boil. It was only bythe exercise of all his will power that the great scout kept himselffrom shooting down Yellow Elk on the spot. 

The end of the long cliff was almost reached when the Indian chiefreined up the mare and sprang to the ground, still holding Nellie tight. As he held the girl by the wrist with one hand he led Bonnie Birdforward with the other. In a few seconds, girl, mare and Indian haddisappeared from view in the midst of a thick fringe of bushes. 

They had scarcely vanished when Pawnee Brown was on the ground and hadtethered his horse in a little grove of pines a hundred feet away. Thisdone, he stole forward to what he felt must be the mouth of the caveYellow Elk had mentioned. 

The great scout knew he was on delicate and dangerous ground. There wasno telling how many Indians beside Yellow Elk there might be in thevicinity, who had left the reservation without permission; it was likelyall who were there would be in war paint ready to kill him on sight. 

"The reds who train with Yellow Elk are not to be trusted, " he muttered. "Yellow Elk wouldn't like anything better than to scalp me just for ataste of his old blood-thirsty days. Making a 'good Indian' out of sucha fellow is all nonsense--it simply can't be done. "

Pawnee Brown had dropped down in the long grass and was now wigglingalong like a snake through the bushes and between the rocks. Soon theentrance to the cave was gained, hidden by more bushes. He hesitated, looked to see that his pistol was all right, shoved the bushes aside andslipped within. 

It was so dark inside that for a moment he could distinguish nothing. But his ears were on the alert and he heard the footsteps of Yellow Elkresounding at a distance of fully fifty yards. He could hear nothing ofNellie, and rightfully concluded that the Indian had been compelled topick her up and carry her. 

An instant later he stumbled close to his mare. Bonnie Bird recognizedhim with a snort of joy. 

"Sh-sh!" he said softly, and the gentle animal understood and made nofurther sound. But she gladly rubbed her soft nose up and down his neckto signify her pleasure. 

"Good Bonnie Bird, " he whispered. "I'll be with you soon again, " andwent on after Yellow Elk. 

The Indian had now come to a halt and was striking a match. Soon somedry brush was set on fire and the redskin heaped upon it some stout treebranches, for the air in the cave was chilly. 

"Now me and white girl have long talk, " said Yellow Elk, as he motionedNellie to a seat. 

"Where is the boomers' camp?" she faltered, hardly knowing how to answerhim. 

"Camp ten miles from here, " came the short reply. "You here all alonewith Yellow Elk. "

At this the frightened girl gave a scream of terror. 

"You base wretch!" she sobbed. "Take me back at once. "

"No take back--Yellow Elk no fool. White girl stay here--make Yellow Elkgood squaw, maybe, " and he grinned into her pretty face. 

But now an interruption came which all but stunned Yellow Elk. Leapingfrom his hiding place, Pawnee Brown pounced upon the redskin, caught himby the throat and hurled him backward and almost into the midst of thefire!

"You miserable dog!" came from the scout's lips. 

"Oh, sir, save me from that Indian!" came from Nellie, as she quicklyturned to the man she felt sure would assist her. 

"I will, Miss Winthrop, don't fear, " answered Pawnee Brown. "So, YellowElk, we meet again. I reckon you remember the man who kicked you allaround the agency two years ago because you tried to steal his new pairof boots?"

"Ugh!" grunted Yellow Elk. He had just managed to scramble out of thefire, and was beating out the flames which had caught on a fringe of hisgarments. "Pawnee Brown. "

He muttered a fierce imprecation in his native tongue. Then, beforePawnee Brown could stop him his pistol flashed in the fire-light. He tookaim at the scout's head and fired. 

But though the action of the Indian chief was quick, the movement of theboomer was quicker. 

Many times had he been under fire, and he had learned to drop whenoccasion required as rapidly as it could be done. 

With the pressure upon the pistol trigger he went down like a flash andthe bullet intended for his head merely grazed the top of his hat andflattened itself upon the cave wall opposite. 

"Bah!" hissed Yellow Elk, when he saw how he had missed. He attempted totake him once more, but now Pawnee Brown hurled himself on the redskin, turning the barrel of the weapon aside, and both went to the stoneflooring with a crash. Nellie Winthrop let out a shriek of terror. 

"Do not let him shoot you! Make him throw the pistol away!" she cried, as she wrung her hands. She would have liked to assist Pawnee Brown, butcould not see how it could just then be done. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

NELLIE'S FLIGHT. 

Over and over on the stone flooring rolled the boomer and his red enemy, now close to the fire and again off to one side, where there was aslight hollow still wet from the recent storm. 

Pawnee Brown had Yellow Elk by the throat and across the back, while theIndian held his antagonist by the shoulder with one hand, while tryingto beat his brains out with the pistol that was in the other. 

Once Yellow Elk succeeded in getting in a glancing blow, which drewblood, but did no great harm. But now Pawnee Brown's grip wastightening. The redskin was choking. His eyes bulged from their socketsand his tongue hung out several inches. 

"Ugh!" gasped the Indian chief. In vain he tried to shake off that grip. It was like that of a bulldog and could not be loosened. He struck outwildly, but the pistol butt only landed upon Pawnee Brown's shoulder, ashoulder that was as tough as iron and could stand any amount ofpounding. 

Suddenly the tactics of the Indian changed. Knowing that he was inimmediate danger of death by choking, and feeling how unlikely it wasthat he could throw off his assailant, he let fall his pistol and caughtthe boomer around the body. Then he began to roll toward the fire, whichwas now blazing up more brightly than ever. 

The scout saw the redskin's intention instantly, but before he couldstop it both he and his enemy were close to the flames. 

"Me die you die too!" hissed Yellow Elk, and gave another roll, whichtook both himself and Pawnee Brown into the very edge of the blaze. 

"Take care! You will be burnt up!" cried Nellie Winthrop, and gave ascream. Rushing forward, she caught Pawnee Brown by the arm andattempted to draw him back. 

But of this there was no need, for the great scout had already changedhis tactics, feeling convinced that to choke Yellow Elk was nowimpossible. His hand left the redskin's throat, to double up and sailforth into a crushing blow, which took the Indian chief beneath the eyesand made him see more stars than were ever beheld in the blue canopy ofheaven. As Yellow Elk fell back Pawnee Brown did likewise, but in adifferent direction. 

The Indian was now in the midst of the flames and the cry he let out wastruly blood-curdling. Excited as he was, Pawnee Brown did not let theintonation of that cry escape him. Understanding the Indian languagewell, he knew it was more than a cry of terror or pain, it was a callfor help! Other Indians must be somewhere in the vicinity. 

"You had better run for it!" he said, turning to Nellie. "Mount myhorse--the mare the Indian had--and ride down the ravine. "

"Run?" she faltered. 

"Yes, and hurry. Hark! As I thought! Other Indians are coming!"

The boomer was right. The footsteps sounded from the opposite end of thecave, which had two entrances, similar to each other. 

By this time Yellow Elk had rolled out of the fire and was dancingaround like a madman, trying to beat out the flames which hadcommunicated to his clothing. 

As Nellie ran off, Pawnee Brown drew his pistol, resolved to not onlydefend himself but cover the girl's retreat as well. 

Little did he dream of the fresh perils which awaited Nellie. What thoseperils were the immediate chapters which follow will relate. 

As Yellow Elk danced around, Pawnee Brown leveled his revolver at him. 

Crack! went the weapon and the Indian chief fell back with a woundthrough his shoulder. The flickering of the fire-light had saved himfrom death. 

A cry that was little less than a war whoop now sounded out, and withthis four other Indians appeared, two whom Pawnee Brown had before seenin Yellow Elk's company and two who were utter strangers to him. 

"Capture the white dog!" howled Yellow Elk, in his native tongue. "Shootthe dog down!"

"Pawnee Brown!" grunted one of the newcomers, and up went severalpistols. The scout fired at the same time, and one of the strangeIndians threw up his hands and fell lifeless. But the bullet this Indianhad sent on its mission struck the boomer across the forehead and sentthe scout to the flooring of the cave senseless. 

When Pawnee Brown came to a clear mind again he found himself aching inevery portion of his body, for in their usual custom the Indians onfinding him helpless had each taken their turn at kicking him to suittheir pleasure, Yellow Elk especially delighting in this cruelperformance. 

The scout was bound tightly with a lariat which started from his feetand was wound and crossed up to his very neck, making body, legs andarms as stiff as those of an Egyptian mummy. He lay on the cave flooringnot a dozen feet from the fire, which Yellow Elk was in the act ofreplenishing. 

As he opened his eyes one of the other Indians, Spotted Nose by name, stopped in front of him. The scout instantly closed his eyes again, butit was too late. 

"You all right, " cried Spotted Nose, and gave him a sharp kick in theside. 

"Well I won't be if you keep on kicking me, " replied the boomer, ascheerfully as he could, although it must be admitted he was muchdisturbed. He glanced around and was relieved to see that Nellie wasnowhere in sight. 

Yellow Elk now came up and also kicked the prostrate scout. 

"You heap dirty dog!" he exclaimed, his face full of bitter hatred. "Youshoot me--you die for dat. "

"I suppose I will--if you have the saying of that, Yellow Elk. Butperhaps you won't dare to kill me. "

"Why not Indian dare? Indian dare anything, " growled Yellow Elk. 

"My friends are not far off--they will soon come here, and if you harmme it will go hard with you. "

At this all of the Indians laughed. 

"No white man around here--we on guard all time, " said Spotted Nose. 

"On guard, eh? And yet you didn't see me come in, Dirty Nose?"

"Spotted Nose did see Pawnee Brown, " was the answer; but this was afalsehood. An Indian hates to admit that he has been in any manneroutwitted by a white man. 

"You tell a good story, Dirty Nose. " Pawnee Brown turned to Yellow Elk. "Yellow, how did you run across that girl?"

"Yellow Elk no tell his secrets, " came the answer. "Pawnee Brown fool toask. Pawnee Brown think him heap sly, like fox, but him sly only likecow!" This produced another laugh, for the Indians from the IndianTerritory are not as stolid as were their forefathers, and thoroughlyenjoy their own rude manner of joking. 

Presently Yellow Elk turned to his companions and spoke to them in anundertone. A moment later he sped away, but whether in pursuit of NellieWinthrop or not, Pawnee Brown could not tell. 

The Indian chief was gone fully an hour, and came back looking unusuallygrave. 

Pawnee Brown had tried in vain to get Spotted Nose and the other Indianto talk--to tell him why they had left the reservation. Not one wouldspeak further than to tell him to keep quiet. 

On returning, Yellow Elk at once set to work to rig up an upright polefrom the floor to the ceiling of the cave, using a heavy tree branch forthe purpose. The upright was placed close to where the smoke from thefire found a vent through several large cracks in the ceiling, and theboomer watched these proceedings with much alarm. 

The Indians were erecting a fire-stake, such as they had used in thewild west when some victim was to be roasted alive!

"Heavens! can that be meant for me?" was the question he asked himself. 

The stake planted and fastened firmly, Yellow Elk heaped some fresh, drybrush around its bottom and then came up to Pawnee Brown. 

"Pawnee Brown see the fire-stake?" he asked, his savage eyes gleaminglike two stars. 

"I do, Yellow. Who is it for?"

"Why does Pawnee Brown ask? Does he not deserve death?"

"I suppose I do--according to your notion. "

"Pawnee Brown shall burn--he shall burn slowly, " went on Yellow Elk, meaning that he would make the great scout's torture last as long aspossible. 

"Your training on the reservation hasn't civilized you much, Yellow, ifthat's the way you feel about it. "

"I hate white man--all of them, " grumbled the Indian chief. "They takeall my land away and put me in a little yard to live. I would kill allwhite man if could, " and he grated his teeth. 

A moment later Yellow Elk nodded to the other Indians and all leapedforward and bound Pawnee Brown fast to the fire-stake. This done theredskins heaped the brush around the scout's feet. 

"Now the dirty white dog can die!" hissed Yellow Elk, as he advancedwith a torch. "He can pray, but the white man's Great Father cannot savehim! He must burn until his bones are as charcoal!"

And so speaking Yellow Elk thrust the torch into the dry brush and setit on fire!

CHAPTER XIV. 

DICK TO THE RESCUE. 

"That man is going to shoot Jack Rasco!"

Such was the thought which rushed into Dick Arbuckle's mind as he heardthe fatal words spoken in the woods near the river bank. 

He could not see either of the men, but he felt tolerably certain in hismind that Rasco's assailant was Stillwater, the gambler, who had beenrun out of Arkansas City by Pawnee Brown, Rasco, Clemmer and a dozenothers. 

"Would you kill me?" came in Rasco's voice. The boomer was concerned andwas doing his best to gain time, in the hope that something would turnup to his advantage. 

"Kill you?" sneered Stillwater. "Do you think I'm going to put up withthe way I've been treated? Not much! I had a fine thing in ArkansasCity--something worth a thousand a week to me, and you and your friendsspoiled it all. I'm going to settle with you, and after that I shallhunt up Pawnee Brown and the rest and settle with them, also. "

"You'll have your hands full a-settlin' with Pawnee. "

"Bah! I am not afraid of him. He had me foul over to the Golden Pick, but I'll be careful when next we meet. But I'll not waste time with youhere, Rasco. I've got you alone and 'dead men tell no tales. '"

"Alone?" Jack Rasco began to smile. "You're mistaken. Look behind you. "

Stillwater started, but did not look back. 

"That's an old dodge, Rasco, but you can't work it off on me. I have youalone and I'm going to end the business right here. "

"Not yet!" cried a youthful voice behind Stillwater, and crash! downcame a heavy stick, hitting the gambler squarely upon the head andsending him with a thud to the earth. 

As Stillwater went down, Rasco leaped forward and came down upon him. But this movement was useless. The rascal was more than three-quartersknocked out and lay for several minutes helpless. 

"I owe you one fer that, Dick Arbuckle!" cried Rasco, gratefully. "Yercame in the nick o' time!" Now the peril was over the boomer droppedback into his own peculiar manner of speech. 

"I am glad I happened this way, " returned Dick, as he drew a longbreath. "Gosh! what a lot of excitement we are passing through out here!More than I experienced in all my life in New York. "

"The West is the place fer stirrin' times, lad. " Jack Rasco turned tohis prostrate foe. "Wall, Stillwater, do yer think it war a trick now, tellin' yer ter look behind yer?"

The rascal answered with a groan. 

"My head is split in two!" he cried. "Who struck me? What, that boy?I'll remember you, youngster, and some day----" He did not finish. 

"I ain't done with yer yet, Stillwater, " said Rasco. "You war goin' tershoot me. I reckon turn about is fair play, ain't it?"

"Would you--you shoot me--now?" faltered the card sharp. At the bottomof his heart he was a coward. 

"Why not?"

"I wasn't going to do it, Rasco--I was only--only scaring you. "

"Thet's a whopper--made outer the hull cloth, Stillwater. Yer war goingter shoot me--an' I'm a-goin' ter be jess as accommodatin', " and on thesly Rasco winked at Dick who was much relieved to think the boomer didnot really intend to carry out his blood-thirsty design. 

The face of Stillwater grew as white as a sheet and he trembled fromhead to foot. 

"Don't! don't you do it! Let me off, and I'll give you all the money Ihave with me. "

"It won't do, Stillwater. "

"It's nearly a thousand dollars. Take every cent of it and let me go!"

The gambler fairly grovelled at Jack Rasco's feet. His horror of dyingwas something fearful to contemplate. 

"I'll give yer one chance, Stillwater, " said Rasco, in deep disgust, andat once the rascal's face took on a look of hope. "Yer ain't fit terdie, an' thet's why I say it. Promise ter let me an' my friends alone inthe future. "

"I promise. "

"Promise ter give up cheatin' at cards. If yer don't, some day it willbe the death of yer. "

"I'll never cheat again. "

"All right, I'll take yer at yer word. Now come on down to the river. "

"What for?"

"You hev got ter swim across to the other side whar yer belong. Decentfolks ain't a-goin' ter have yer over here. "

Again Stillwater was much disturbed. But Jack Rasco was firm, and soonthe trio were down by the water's edge. Still pale, the gambler plungedinto the river and struck out for the opposite shore. It was a hardbattle against that current, but presently Rasco and Dick saw him wadeout at the other side. He shook his fist at them savagely, thendisappeared like a flash into the woods. 

"He'll not keep any of his promises, " said Dick. 

"Keep 'em? Yer didn't expect it o' thet viper, lad? No, he's an enemy tothe death. But whar did yer come from, and have yer found out anythingabout yer poor father?"

Dick's story was soon told, to which Rasco listened with much interest. 

"I don't believe a boomer would rob yer father, " said he, reflectively. "Like as not it war somebody who followed yer from New York--some man asknew the value of them air minin' deeds. "

"Well, I'll go back to camp and make a search, anyway, Rasco. But whatbrought you here?"

"I'm lookin' fer my niece, Nellie Winthrop. "

And Rasco told of the letter received and of how Nellie was missing andno trace of her could be found anywhere. Dick was almost as muchdisturbed as Rasco, for he still carried in his mind a picture of thebeautiful girl he had saved from Juan Donomez's insults. 

"Can the Mexican have waylaid her?" he asked. 

"Perhaps, " said the man of the plains. "But I've hunted the city highand low. "

A short while after the two found themselves in the town once more. Nellie had put up at the Commercial Hotel, and to this hostelry theymade their way and entered the office. 

"No news of the young lady, " said the clerk in charge, who had beeninterviewed before. "I am quite certain she started for the boomers'camp on horseback. "

Rasco heaved a sigh. 

"Might as well go back, " he said to Dick, then as he saw the boy starthe continued: "What's up? Do yer see anything of her?"

"No, Rasco. But look at that man, the fellow sitting down by the cornertable in the reading room, he with the brown hat. "

"I see him. What of him?"

"He's from New York--a fellow who used to come sneaking around father'soffice, trying to gather information about mining shares. "

"Gee shoo, Dick! Yer don't mean it!" Jack Rasco was all attentioninstantly. "Maybe he's the rascal as knocked yer dad over?"

"Perhaps. If I--There is a man joining him. "

"I've seen thet chap afore. 'Pears ter me he works fer the government. "

"Do you know his name?"

"No. Wot's the other fellow's handle?"

"Dike Powell. He is known as a Wall street sharper. I wish I could hearwhat the two have to say to each other. Yet I don't want Dike Powell tosee me. "

"It's easy enough, lad. Thar's a window close to the table, an' it'sopen. We'll walk out on the veranda, and get under the opening. Come. "

In a second more they were outside. Tiptoeing their way across theveranda, which was deserted, they soon found themselves close to theopen window mentioned. 

"And so that is settled, " they heard the man from New York remark. "I amglad to hear it, Vorlange. "

Vorlange! Dick started and so did Jack Rasco. The boy was trying tothink where he had heard it before. Ah, he had it now. Many and many atime had he heard his parent murmur that name in his sleep, and the namewas coupled with many other things, dreadful to remember. Surely therewas some awful mystery here. What made his father mutter that name inhis dreams, and why at such time was he talking of murder and hanging, and sobbing that he was innocent? A cold chill crept down the boy'sbackbone. Was the heart of that secret to be laid bare at last?

CHAPTER XV. 

AN IMPORTANT CONVERSATION. 

"Yes, it's settled, Powell; and as soon as we are done here with theboomers, I'll get to work and find out what the claim is worth. "

"How about being shadowed in the affair?"

"I'm not afraid--I'm laying my plans too well, " answered Louis Vorlange. "I would go ahead at once, but to throw up my position under thegovernment just now might excite suspicions. "

"Have you the papers with you?"

"No; I left them at the cavalry camp. They are too valuable to carry inone's coat pocket. "

"Supposing the camp moves?"

"I have my belongings secreted in a nearby cave where they are as safeas in a deposit vault of a bank. "

"Well, Vorlange, what am I to do now I am out here?"

"Remain in Arkansas City for the present and take it easy. "

"You promised me a hundred dollars on my arrival. "

"And there it is. "

There was the rustle of bank notes. 

"New money, eh?" was Dike Powell's comment. "Been printing some outhere?"

"Not much. I know better than to go into the counterfeiting business. "

Dick clutched Rasco's arm. The youth's face was full of concern. 

"My father's money was in new bills, " he whispered into his companion'sear. Rasco nodded, but quickly motioned for silence. 

"I reckon this is drinks on me, " said Powell, arising. "Come down to thebar before you go back to the cavalry camp. "

"I'm in a hurry, Powell, but I'll take one glass, " concluded LouisVorlange, and the two men hurried from the reading-room. 

"He is the man--I feel certain of it!" burst from Dick's lips, when hefelt safe to speak. "Rasco, there is some mystery here. My father----"He stopped short and bit his lip. 

"I know wot's in yer mind, Dick. I've heard yer father go on in hissleep, and war talkin' ter Pawnee Brown about it. An' Pawnee knows thisair Vorlange. The two air enemies from school days. Pawnee saidVorlange wasn't squar nohow!"

"He is evidently in the employ of the government. "

"Yes; a land-office spy, now workin' ag'in the boomers fer the cavalryas intends ter keep us out of Oklahoma. "

"It will be hard to bring such a man to justice, without some directevidence against him, Rasco. "

"Don't yer try ter do it--yet, lad. Take my advice an' watch him. An'afore yer come down on him yer hed better question yer father aboutVorlange. "

At this Dick winced. 

"Rasco, my father's manner is against him--I know that. But I'm certainhe never committed a crime in his life. "

"I believes yer, Dick. Yer father's a gentleman, every inch o' him; Iseed thet the fust I clapped eyes on him. But knowin' the truth is onething an' provin' it is another, especially in the wild west. This airVorlange may hev yer father in a mighty tight hole, and if you show himup as the thief who stole the deeds an' the money, he may turn on yerdad and squeeze him mightily, see?"

"I see. But what shall I do just now?"

"Follow Vorlange and spy on to him all yer can. It ain't no ust terhurry matters, with your father flat on his back. Powell will remainhere and Vorlange will be with the cavalry, so yer will know whar terclap eyes on ter both of 'em if it's necessary. "

A moment's reflection convinced Dick that this was sound advice, and hesaid he would follow it, mentally resolved not to accuse Vorlange ofanything until he had gotten his parent to confess to the true state ofaffairs. 

By this time the boy and the man of the plains had left the veranda andwalked around to where Rasco had left his horse. A moment later they sawLouis Vorlange hurry from the barroom of the hotel, leap upon his ownanimal, and strike out of town in a westerly direction. 

"If I had a horse I'd follow him, " began Dick, when Rasco motioned theyouth to hop up behind. Soon they were riding after Vorlange, but notclose enough to allow the spy to imagine that he was being followed. 

"If you go after him you'll get no chance to hunt up your niece, " beganDick, when the city was left behind. 

"That's true, lad. " Jack Rasco's face grew troubled. "I don't knowwot's best ter do. It ain't fair ter let yer follow Vorlange alone; an'with only one hoss----hullo, wot does this mean? Carl Humpendinck, an'wavin' his hand to us like he war crazy. "

Rasco had discovered the German boomer sweeping up a side trail. Humpendinck had made out Rasco but a second before and now shouted forthe man of the plains to halt. 

"What is it, Dutchy?" called out Rasco, when they were within speakingdistance. 

"Vot ist it? Donner und blitzen, Rasco, it vos der vorst news vot eferyou heard!" burst from Carl Humpendinck's lips. "I chust here him apoutquarter of an hour ago, und I ride der horse's legs off ter told yer. "

"But what is it--out with it?"

"It's apout dot girl you vos lookin' for. Rosy Delaney, dot Irish vomansvot haf such a long tongue got, she tole me der sthory. Gott im himmel!it vos dreadful!"

"But tell me what it is, Dutchy!" exploded Rasco. "Wot is dreadful?"

"Der sthory she tole--I can's most believe him. "

"See here, out with the whole thing, or I'll swat yer one on thecocoanut, Humpendinck!" roared Rasco. "Yer as long-winded ez a mulethet's gone blind. "

"Gracious, Rasco, you vouldn't hit me, afther I ride me dree miles undmore ter tole you?" wailed the German, reproachfully. "I dink me you vosmine pest friend, next to Pawnee Prown, ain't it?"

"There'll be a dead Dutchman here in another minute if yer don't open upclear down ter the bottom!" howled Rasco, who had never before sufferedsuch exasperation. 

"Tell us the exact trouble, " put in Dick, calmly. He saw that excitingHumpendinck still more would do no good. 

"Der Indian haf carried dot girl avay!" exploded Humpendinck. 

"Carried the girl away!" ejaculated Dick. 

"My Nellie?" yelled Rasco. 

"Dot's it, Rasco. Ain't it awful! Dot Irish vomans seen dot Indian mitdot girl in his arms, flying der trail ofer like a biece of baber peforea cyclone alretty!"

"Humpendinck, are you telling the truth?"

"I vos tole you vot dot Irish vomans tole me. Mike Delaney und dreeudder mans vos lookin' for you. "

On the instant Louis Vorlange was forgotten, not only by Rasco, utalso by Dick. It made both shudder to think that Nellie had been carriedoff by a redskin. They turned into the trail from which Humpendinck hademerged, and were soon on their way to the camp. 

Here Rosy Delaney was found very much disturbed. She came up to Rascowringing her hands. 

"To think o' the red rascal a-takin' thet young leddy off!" she cried. "I know her by thet photygraph! Och, the villain! An' it moight havebeen Rosy Delaney, bad cess to him!"

"Show me the exact trail he followed, " said Rasco, and this the Irishwoman did willingly. Soon Rasco was tearing over the prairie, followedby Humpendinck, Delaney, Clemmer and by Dick, who borrowed a horse fromanother boomer. 

The trail left by Yellow Elk was easily followed to the vicinity ofHonnewell, but here it led away to the southwest and was swallowed upamong the bushes and rocks leading down into the ravine previouslymentioned. 

"Oi reckon thot's the trail, " said Delaney, after an examination. 

"And I vos dink dot ist der trail, " put in Humpendinck. 

"An' I calkerlate this is the trail, " added Cal Clemmer. 

Each pointed in a different direction, while Rasco and Dick were of theopinion that none of them were right and that the trail led up theravine, just as it really did. 

An interruption now occurred. There was a stir in the bushes above theirheads, and an elderly scout peered down upon them, rifle in hand. 

"Hullo, Jack Rasco, wot's the best word? Whar is Pawnee Brown?"

"Dan Gilbert!" cried Rasco. "Come down, Pawnee ought to be somewhereabout here. "

In a moment more Dan Gilbert, a heavy-set, pleasant-lookingfrontiersman, stood among them. A hasty consultation immediatelyfollowed. Dan Gilbert was on his way back to where he had left the blazeon the tree, and it was decided that Rasco and Dick should accompanyhim, while Clemmer, Delaney and Humpendinck went to reconnoitre in theopposite direction. A double pistol shot from either party was to bringthe other to its aid. 

In less than five minutes the first party was on its way to the blazedtree. Dan Gilbert feeling certain that if Pawnee Brown had passed thatway he must have seen the sign and left word of his own. 

"If Pawnee was down here you can bet he spotted that Injun if he camewithin a hundred yards of him, " said Gilbert. "He can smell a red likea cat can smell a rat. "

The tree reached, the frontiersman threw back the flat rock and broughtforth the message left by the great scout. He read it aloud. 

"Following Yellow Elk!" cried Jack Rasco. "I know the rascal! And it washe as stole my gal! Jess wait till I git my hand on his windpipe, thet'sall! Whar's thet cave, Gilbert?"

"I don't know, but it must be somewhere up the ravine. Come on. "

And away went the trio, on the hunt for Yellow Elk, Pawnee Brown andpoor Nellie Winthrop. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

ATTACKED BY A WILDCAT. 

"You fiend!"

This was all Pawnee Brown could say, as with a face full of bitterhatred Yellow Elk advanced and applied the torch to the dry brush whichencircled his feet. 

In vain the great scout endeavored to wrench himself free from thefire-stake. Yellow Elk and his followers had done their work well and hewas held as in a vise. 

"Pawnee Brown shall burn slowly, " said the Indian chief, hoping to makethe scout show the white feather. "Yellow Elk will watch that the firedoes not mount to his body too quickly. "

"If you want to kill me why don't you put a bullet through my heart andhave done with it, " said the boomer as coolly as he could. The fire wasnow burning around his feet and ankles and the pain was increasing withevery second of time. 

"White man shall learn what it is to suffer, " said Spotted Nose. "Hekilled my friend, the Little Mule. "

"Your friend tried to take my life. "

"Bah! say no more but burn! burn!" hissed Yellow Elk. 

And with a stick he shoved the flaming brush closer in around thescout's legs. 

It was a fearful moment--a moment in which Pawnee Brown's life hung by asingle thread. The flames were leaping up all around him. He closed hiseyes and half murmured a prayer for divine aid. 

Crack! bang! crack! Two pistol shots and the report of a rifle echoedthroughout the cave, and as Pawnee Brown opened his eyes in astonishmentSpotted Nose threw up his arms and fell forward in the flames at hisfeet, dead! The Indian who had been with Spotted Nose also went down, mortally wounded, while Yellow Elk was hit in the left arm. 

"Down with the reds!" came in the ringing voice of Jack Rasco, and heappeared from out of a cloud of smoke, closely followed by Dan Gilbertand Dick. "Pawnee! Am I in time? I hope ter Heaven I am!"

"Jack!" cried the great scout. A slash of Rasco's hunting knife and hewas free. "Good for you!" and then Pawnee Brown had his hands full forseveral minutes beating out the flames which had ignited his boot solesand the bottoms of his trousers. 

"We plugged the three of 'em, " said Gilbert. "I knocked thet one, " andhe pointed to the Indian who was breathing his last. 

"I hit the Indian with the yellow plume, " put in Dick, and he could nothelp but shudder. 

"That was Yellow Elk, " said Rasco. "But whar is he now?"

All the white men turned quickly, looking up and down the cave. It wasuseless. Yellow Elk had disappeared. 

"He must not escape!" cried Pawnee Brown. "I have an account to settlewith him for starting that fire. "

"But whar is Nellie?" asked Rasco, impatiently, looking around with afalling face. 

"She ran away when the other Indians came to Yellow Elk's assistance, "answered Pawnee Brown, and in a few hurried words he told his story. 

"Then she can't be far off. "

"Let us hunt for her at once, " cried Dick, and his enthusiasm made themen laugh, at which the boy blushed furiously. 

"Never mind, Dick, yer don't think no more of her nor I do, " said Rasco. "Which way, Pawnee?"

"This way, boys. " The scout turned to the Indian who had been wounded. "Dead as a door nail. Pity it wasn't Yellow Elk. "

"So say I, " answered Rasco. "But we'll git him yet, mark my words!"

With all possible speed they ran out of the cave and to the spot wherethey had left their horses. Here a disagreeable surprise awaited them. Every animal was gone, including the one Pawnee Brown had ridden. 

"More of Yellow Elk's work!" muttered the boomer. "I'll tell you, men, that red is a corker, and as a dead Indian he couldn't be beat. "

"I declar' this most stumps me!" growled Dan Gilbert. "Here's the trailplain enough, but it's all out of the question ter follow on shank's ownmare. "

"Let us hunt up Clemmer and the others, " suggested Jack Rasco. 

"We must be cautious--the cavalry may be somewhere in the vicinity, "added Pawnee Brown. "How the redskins escaped them is a mystery to me. "

"They are evidently as sly as their forefathers, " said Dick. "But, really, something ought to be done. If we--hullo, there's a horse downin yonder clearing!"

"Bonnie Bird!" shouted Pawnee Brown, in great delight. It was indeed thebeautiful mare. A second cry and the steed came bounding up to hermaster. 

"Now I can follow even if the others can't, " said the scout. "Rasco, it's a pity you haven't a mount. It is no more than right that youshould follow up your niece. If you insist upon it I'll let you haveBonnie Bird. I wonder if Nellie or the redskin had her?"

"I won't take yer horse, Pawnee--it's askin' too much, " answered Rasco. "Supposin' we both mount her? If Bonnie Bird got away from Yellow Elkit's more'n likely one of the other hosses got away, too. "

"That's so. Well, get up, Jack, and let us lose no time. "

Soon both men were mounted. A few words all around followed, and it wasagreed that Dick and Gilbert should try to hunt up Clemmer and theothers, and then away went Pawnee Brown and Rasco upon Yellow Elk'strail. 

Suddenly Jack Rasco uttered a cry. 

"See, Pawnee, here's whar another of the hosses got away. Hang me if Idon't think it war my hoss, too!"

"Yes, and here is where the horse dropped into a walk, " he answered. "Idon't believe he can be far off. "

Without delay Rasco slid to the ground. 

"I'll follow him up afoot, " he declared. "I'm fresh and can run itputty good. You go ahead with the regular trail. "

The trail left by Yellow Elk ran down along the edge of the stream for adistance of perhaps a hundred yards, then it came out on a series offlat rocks and was lost to view. 

Pawnee Brown came to a halt. Had Yellow Elk crossed the stream, ordoubled on the trail and gone back?

Dismounting, he got down upon his hands and knees and examined the lasthoof-prints with extreme care. 

The examination lasted for fully ten minutes. No white man could followa trail better than this leader of the boomers, yet for the time beinghe was baffled. 

Yellow Elk had led the horses into the water, but the trail did notextend across the stream. 

"He's an artful dodger!" mused Pawnee Brown, when of a sudden he becamesilent. 

A faint scratching, as of tree bark, had come to his ears. The noise wasbut a short distance away. 

"Some animal, " he thought. "No human being would make such a sound asthat. "

Another ten seconds of painful silence followed. The scratching soundhad just been resumed when Bonnie Bird wheeled about as if on a pivot. 

"Ha!"

The exclamation came from between Pawnee Brown's set teeth. There, frombetween the branches of a tree just in front of him, glared a pair ofyellowish-green eyes. 

The blazing optics belonged to a monstrous wildcat!

As quick as a flash Pawnee Brown raised his pistol and pulled thetrigger. 

Crack! The wildcat was hit in the side. The shot was a glancing one anddid but little damage. 

Whirr! down came the body straight for the boomer, landing half upon hisshoulder and half upon Bonnie Bird's mane. 

The little mare was thoroughly frightened, and giving a snort and aplunge she threw both rider and wildcat to the ground. 

As Pawnee Brown went down he tried to push the monstrous cat from him, but the beast had its claws fastened in the scout's clothing and couldnot be shook off. 

Crack! Again Pawnee Brown fired. The flash was almost directly in thewildcat's face, and shot in the left forepaw the beast uttered a fearfulhowl of pain and dropped back. 

But only for an instant. The pain only increased its anger, and withgleaming teeth it crouched down and made another spring, right for theboomer's throat. 

Crack! crack! twice again the pistol rang out. But the big cat was nowwary and both shots failed to take effect. 

The pistol being now empty, Pawnee Brown hurled it at the enraged beast, striking it in the nose and eliciting another scream of rage. 

Then, as the wildcat came on for a final attack, the scout pulled outhis hunting knife. 

As the wildcat came down the hand holding the hunting knife was raised, with the blade of the knife pointing upward. 

A lightning-like swing and a thrust, and for one brief instant thewildcat was poised in the air, upon the very blade of the long knife. 

The blow had been a true one, the knife point reaching the beast'sheart, and when the animal fell it rolled down among the leaves, dead. 

"By thunder! but that was something I hadn't bargained for!" murmuredthe great scout, as he surveyed the carcass. "That's about the biggestwildcat I ever saw. It's a good thing I didn't meet him in the dark. "

Wiping off his hunting knife, he restored it to his belt. Then he pickedup his pistol and started to reload it, at the same time whistling forBonnie Bird, who, he felt sure, must be close by. 

As Pawnee Brown stood reloading the pistol and whistling for his mare hedid not notice a shadow behind him. Slowly but surely someone wasdrawing closer to him. It was Yellow Elk. 

The Indian chief was on foot. In his left hand he carried a cockedrevolver, in his right an old-time tomahawk, from which he had refusedto be parted when placed on the Indian reservation. 

The redskin's face was full of the most bitter animosity it is possibleto imagine. The glare of wickedness in his eyes fairly put the look thathad lived in the wildcat's optics to shame. His snags of yellow teethwere firmly set. 

He was resolved to kill his enemy there and then. Pawnee Brown shouldnot again escape him. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

THE MEETING IN THE WOODS. 

After leaving Pawnee Brown, Jack Rasco followed the trail of his horsethrough a small grove of trees and along the upper bank of the verystream upon which the great scout encountered Yellow Elk. 

"Blamed ef he didn't go further nor I expected, " muttered Rasco tohimself as he trudged along. But the hoof-prints were now growingfresher and fresher, telling that the animal could not be far off. 

The woods passed, he began ascending a small hill. At the top of thiswas a level patch, thickly overgrown with short brush. 

He had just entered the brush when he heard a strange sound. He listenedintently. 

"Thet's a hoss in pain, " he said to himself. "Too bad if the critter hezhad a tumble an' broke a leg! If that's---- By gum!"

Jack had stumbled upon a large opening directly in the midst of thebrush. Before he could turn back the very soil beneath his feet gaveway, and over and over he rolled down an incline of forty-five degrees, to bring up at last at the edge of a pool of black water and mud. 

Fortunately he was not hurt, although the roll had dazed him and cutshort his wind. As soon as he could he leaped to his feet and gazedaround him. 

The horse he had heard lay half in and half out of the mud. Its leg wascaught between two rocks, and it was trying frantically to free itself. It was his own beast, and at once recognized him. 

"Whoa there!" cried Rasco, and did all he could to soothe the animal. The horse appeared to understand that assistance was at hand, and becamequiet, while Rasco quickly released the locked leg and the beastfloundered up to a safe footing. 

"Well, we're in a pocket, 'pears ter me, " reflected the man of theplains as he gazed about him. On three sides the walls of the hole werevery nearly perpendicular, on the fourth the slant was as previouslystated, but here the soil was spongy and treacherous. 

"Hang me ef I'm a-goin' ter stay here all day, " muttered Rasco, after aview of the situation. "Come, boy, it's up thet slope or nuthin', " andhe leaped on the horse's back and urged him forward on a run. 

Twice did the horse try to ascend to the plain above and fail. ThenRasco urged him forward a third time. This time the beast balked andaway went the man of the plains over his head. 

Fortunately Rasco landed in a tolerably soft spot, otherwise his neckwould surely have been broken. As it was, his head struck the root of afallen tree, which had once stood upon the edge of the hole, and herolled back near the pool all but senseless. 

It was a quarter of an hour later before he felt like stirring again. 

"Hang the hoss!" he murmured half aloud, yet, all told, he did not blamethe animal so much for balking. "Couldn't do it, eh, boy?" he said, andthe beast shook his mane knowingly. 

"Git along alone, then!" went on Rasco, and struck the horse on theflank. 

Away went the steed, and this time the top of the hole was gainedwithout much difficulty. 

"Now you're out, how am I ter make it?"

It was easy to ask this question, but not so easy to answer it. Rascotried to run up the spongy incline and sank to his knees. 

"Ain't no use; I'll try a new game, " he growled. 

Fortunately, Rasco was in the habit of carrying, in cowboy fashion, alariat suspended from his belt. This he now unwound and with a dexterousthrow caught the outer loop over a sturdy bush growing over one of theperpendicular sides of the opening. 

Testing the lariat, to make certain it was firm, he began to ascend handover hand. This was no light task, yet it was speedily accomplished, andwith a sigh of relief he found himself safe once more. 

But in the meantime the horse had trotted off, alarmed by a black snakein the long grass. Rasco saw this snake a minute later, but the reptileslunk out of sight before he could get a chance to dispatch it. 

The trail of the horse led again back to the ravine, but not in thedirection of the cave. Bound to secure the animal before rejoiningPawnee Brown, Rasco loped along in pursuit. 

He was in the ravine, and had just caught sight of his steed once more, when he heard several pistol shots coming from a distance. These werethe shots fired by Pawnee Brown at the wildcat. He listened intently, but no more shots followed, and being below the level of the surroundingcountry, he was unable to locate the discharge of firearms. 

"Something is wrong somewhar, " he mused. "Can thet be Pawnee shootin', or is it Dick an' the others?"

He secured the horse and began to ascend out of the ravine, when amurmur of voices broke upon his ears. One of the voices sounded familiarand he soon recognized it as that of Louis Vorlange. 

Instantly dismounting, he tied his animal fast to a tree that thecreature might not wander away again, and worked his way noiselesslythrough the brush. The voices came from a nearby clearing, andapproaching, Rasco saw on horseback Louis Vorlange and half a dozencavalrymen, among them Tucker, Ross and Skimmy, the trio who had soughtto detain Dick as a horse thief. 

"I feel certain they will come this way, " one of the strange trooperswas saying. "I saw at least two boomer spies along yonder ravine. "

"They will come to Honnewell, " answered Vorlange. "It may be thatinstead of making a rush they will try to sneak in during the night, oneat a time. "

"We'll be ready for 'em, " muttered Tucker. "I know my meat, " he added, significantly, to Vorlange, meaning that he had not forgotten the rewardoffered if, in a battle he should lay Pawnee Brown and Dick low. At thewords Vorlange nodded. 

"When will the reinforcements be up this way?" asked Ross. 

"I have already sent word to headquarters, " answered Vorlange. "Thelieutenant is sure to respond without delay. "

"Do you reckon the boomers know we are on hand to stop them?" questionedSkimmy. 

"They know nothing, " answered Vorlange. "If Pawnee Brown leads his menin this direction they will fall directly into a trap--if the lieutenantdoes as I have advised, and I think he will. "

"I hope the boomers start to fight and give us a chance to wipe 'emout, " muttered Ross. 

"There will be a fight started, don't you fear, " answered Vorlange. 

The spy meant what he said. Too cowardly to meet Pawnee Brown face toface, he wanted to make sure that the great scout should be killed. 

This would happen if a battle came off, for he felt sure Tucker would doexactly as he promised. 

Vorlange had determined to be on hand. Secreted in a tree or elsewherehe could fire a dozen shots or so into the air, and this would arouseboth cavalrymen and boomers to think that actual hostilities had alreadystarted, and then neither side would longer hold off. 

"When will the boomers move?" was one of the cavalryman's questions. 

"They are waiting for Pawnee Brown, " said the spy. 

"Where is he?"

"Somewhere about the country. "

"Can he be up here?"

Vorlange started. 

"I--I think not. 

"He's a slick one, Vorlange; remember that. "

"I know it, but some men are slicker. Wait until this boom is busted andyou'll never hear of Pawnee Brown again. "

So the talk ran on. Rasco listened with much interest, forgetting thefact that he had promised to follow Pawnee Brown as soon as thestray-away horse was secured. 

What he had heard surprised him greatly. 

Many of the plans of the boomers, made in such secrecy, were known tothe government authorities. The plan to move westward to Honnewell wasknown, and a passage through to Oklahoma from that direction was, consequently, out of the question. 

"The boys must know of this, " thought Rasco. "I must tell Clemmer andGilbert before I try to hunt up Pawnee again, or go after Nellie. Ifthere was a fight as Vorlange seems to think, there might be a hundredor more killed. "

Having overheard all that he deemed necessary, the man of the plainsstarted to retreat. 

He had taken but a few steps when he found himself cut off from hishorse. 

Three additional cavalrymen were approaching from the thicket. 

"Here's a horse tied up!" cried one. "Boys, whose animal is this?"

The call instantly attracted the attention of Vorlange and hiscompanions. They turned toward the speaker, and now there remainednothing for Rasco to do but to run for it, and this he did at the top ofhis speed. 

As long as he could he kept out of sight behind the bushes. But soonTucker caught sight of him. 

"Halt, or I'll fire!" came the command. 

Tucker spoke first, and several others followed. As Rasco was now inplain view, and as each of the enemy had a firearm of some sort aimed athim, it would have been foolishness to have thus courted death, and theman of the plains halted. 

"It is Jack Rasco!" cried Vorlange. "Boys, this is Pawnee Brown'sright-hand man!"

"I know him!" growled Tucker. "Rasco, you're in a box now and don't youforget it. You've been spying on us. "

"Make him a prisoner, " said another of the cavalrymen, an underofficer. "If he is a spy we'll have to take him back to the fort andturn him over to the captain. "

A minute later Jack Rasco found himself a close prisoner. It wasdestined to be some time ere he again obtained his liberty. Thus werehis chances of helping Pawnee Brown cut off. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

A CRY FROM THE DARKNESS. 

Let us return to Pawnee Brown, who, totally unconscious of the fact thatYellow Elk was creeping up behind him, stood beside the body of the deadwildcat, re-loading the empty revolver. 

One of the chambers of the firearm had been loaded, when something aboutthe pistol caused the great scout to examine it more closely. As he wasdoing this Yellow Elk advanced to within three feet of him and raisedthe tomahawk for the fatal blow. 

At this terrible moment it must surely have been Providence whichinterfered in the boomer's behalf, for, totally unconscious of hisperil, he would have done absolutely nothing to save himself. He bentover the pistol more closely. 

"That trigger seems to catch, " he thought, and threw the weapon up andfired it over his shoulder, just to test it. 

The bullet did not pass within a yard of Yellow Elk, but the movementcame so unexpectedly that the Indian chief was taken completely off hisguard and dropped back as though actually shot. His cry of astonishmentand fear lasted longer than did the pistol report, and Pawnee Brownswung around to confront him. 

"Yellow Elk!" came from his lips, when whizz! the tomahawk left theredskin's hand and came swirling through the air directly for his head. He dropped like lightning, and the keen blade sank deeply into the treebehind him. 

"Wough!" grunted the Indian when he saw how he had missed his mark. Thenhe leveled the pistol in his left hand at Pawnee Brown's head. 

The great scout felt his position was still a trying one. His ownshooter, though still in hand, was empty. He pointed it and started toback away to the tree behind him. 

"Stop, or I kill!" commanded Yellow Elk, but instead of complying, thescout took a flying leap to a safe shelter. Seeing this, Yellow Elk alsolost no time in getting behind cover. 

With the pistol loaded once more the boomer felt safer. He listenedintently for some movement upon the part of his enemy, but none came. The Indian is a great hand at playing a waiting game and Yellow Elk wasno exception to this rule. 

"Well, if you can wait, so can I, " thought Pawnee Brown and settleddown with eyes and ears on the alert. He thought of Nellie Winthrop andof Rasco, and wondered what had become of uncle and niece. He did notwant to wait, feeling it was important to get back to the boomers' camp, but there was no help for it, and he remained where he was. 

Fifteen minutes went by and no sound broke the stillness saving that ofthe water in the brook as it flowed down over a series of rocks. Thencame the faint crack of a single dry twig over upon his left. He turnedaround and blazed away in that direction. 

A fierce but suppressed exclamation in the Indian tongue followed, showing that Yellow Elk had been hit. How serious the Indian chief wasinjured there was no telling. It might be only a flesh wound, it mighthave been fatal and Yellow Elk might have died without further sound, and then again it might be only a ruse. Again Pawnee Brown paused tolisten. 

Thus another quarter of an hour was wasted. It must be confessed thatthe great scout's nerves were strung to the topmost tension. At anymoment a shot might come which would end his life. It was ten times moretrying than to stand up in line of battle, for the enemy could not beseen. 

Again came the crack of a twig, but very faint, showing that the soundcame from a distance. There followed a faint splash, some distance upthe stream. Yellow Elk was retreating. 

"I reckon I hit him pretty bad, " mused Pawnee Brown. "But I'll goslow--it may be only a trick, " and away he crawled as silently as asnail along the brook's bank. 

Inside of the next half hour he had covered a territory of many yards onboth sides of the brook. In one spot he had seen several drops of bloodand the finger marks of a bloody hand. Yellow Elk, however, hadcompletely disappeared. 

"He is gone, and so is the trail, " muttered the great scout at last. Hespoke the truth. Further following of the Indian chief was just then outof the question. 

"There is one thing to be thankful for, " he mused. "I don't believe hecaptured Nellie Winthrop again after he left the cave. I wonder what hasbecome of that girl?"

Bonnie Bird had wandered down the brook for a drink and instantlyreturned at her master's call. With something of a sigh at not havingfinished matters with Yellow Elk the boomer leaped once again into thesaddle and turned back in the direction from whence he had come. 

It was now growing dark, and the great scout felt that he must ere longreturn to the boomers' camp and give the order necessary to start thelong wagon train on its way westward to Honnewell. Little did he dreamof what the government spy and the cavalrymen had discovered and howJack Rasco had been taken prisoner. 

"Pawnee!"

It was a cry from a patch of woods to the northward, and straining hiseyes he saw Cal Clemmer waving his sombrero toward him. Scout and cowboyboomer were soon together. 

"Well, whar's Rasco and the gal?" were Clemmer's first words. 

"Both gone--I don't know where, Cal. Where are the other boys?"

"Started back toward Honnewell; thet is, all but Dick Arbuckle. He'sover ter yonder spring gittin' a drink o' water. "

"I am sorry I failed to find the girl, " said Pawnee Brown. "She musthave wandered off in the woods and got lost. I am quite certain theIndians did not spot her again. "

"And Jack?"

"Went off after his horse. "

"Wot do yer advise us ter do--stay here?"

"I am afraid staying here will do no good, Cal. I must get back to campand start the wagons up. I know they won't move a step unless I ampersonally there to give directions. The old boomers are all afraid ofbeing fooled by some trick of the soldiers. "

"Thet's so. Wall, if yer want me ter stay here I'll stay--otherwise I'llgo back, " concluded Clemmer. 

Dick now came up, as anxious as Clemmer had been to know the news. Hisface grew very sober when he heard that Nellie had not been found. 

"I wish I knew more of this territory--I'd go after her myself, " hesaid, earnestly. "I hope you won't abandon the search?"

"Oh, no, lad; that is not my style. But I must get back to the campfirst and start the train along. I'll be on this ground again bymidnight. "

"Then why can't I stay here? I am not afraid. "

"Alone?" ejaculated Clemmer. 

"Yes--if you want to join Pawnee. "

"By gosh, but that boy's nervy fer a city chap!" cried the cowboyboomer, in admiration. 

"Well, you know there's a girl in this, Cal, " rejoined Pawnee Brown, dryly. "And I reckon she's a girl well worth going through fire andwater for. "

At this Dick blushed. 

"I want to find out about Rasco, too, " he hastened to say. "You know Iwas going through with him, and he was going to do some business for myfather, later on. "

The matter was talked over for several minutes, and it was at lastdecided that Dick should secrete himself in a thicket and stand watchthere or close by until he heard from Pawnee Brown again. 

"Be on your guard, boy, for enemies may be thick here, " were theboomer's last words of caution. "Don't uncover to anybody until you arepositive it is a friend. "

"And here's a bite for yer, " added Clemmer, handing out some rations hecarried in a haversack. "You'll get mighty hungry ere the sun comes upagain. "

In a minute more the two horsemen were galloping away. Dick watched themuntil they were lost to view, then dropped to a sitting position on aflat rock in the centre of a clump of trees. 

The youth's heart beat rather strongly. He was not used to this sort ofthing. How different the prairies and woods were to the city streets andbuildings. 

"Lonesome isn't a name for it, " he mused. "Puts me in mind of one vastcemetery--a gigantic Greenwood, only there aren't any monuments. What isthat?"

There was a flutter and a whirl, and Dick grasped his pistol tighter. Itwas only a night-bird, starting up now that the sun was beginning toset. 

Soon the woods and the prairies began to grow dark. The sun was lost toview behind tall trees which cast shadows of incalculable length. Itgrew colder, too, and he buttoned his light coat tightly about him. 

To pass the time he began to eat some of the food left behind byClemmer. It was not particularly appetizing, and in the city Dick mighthave passed it by for something better. But just then it tasted "justboss, " to use Dick's own words. A bracing air and hunger are the bestsauces in the world. 

An hour had gone by, and all was dark, when Dick started up from areverie into which he had fallen. What was that which had reached hisears from a distance? Was it a cry, or merely the moaning of the risingwind?

He listened. No, it was not the wind--it was a cry--a girl's voice--thevoice of Nellie Winthrop!

"It is Nellie!" came from his set lips, and his face grew pale. Againcame the cry, but this time more faintly. 

From what direction had that cry for help proceeded? In vain the boyasked himself that question. He was not used to a life in the open andthe rising wind was very deceptive. 

"I must find her!" he gasped, leaping from the rocks. "I shan't remainhere while she is in trouble. "

He had no horse the men being unable to provide him with one when theyhad come together, but for this he did not care. He was resolved to aidthe girl if such a thing were possible. 

Away he went over the prairie at a rapid gait, in the direction fromwhence he imagined the cry had proceeded. Two hundred yards were coveredand he came to a halt and listened. Not a sound broke the stillness, although he fancied he heard the hoof-strokes of a horse at a greatdistance. 

Then he turned in another direction, and then another. It was all to nopurpose. No trace of the girl could be found. He gave a groan. 

"It's no use; she's gone and that is all there is to it. Poor girl!"

With a sinking heart he set off to return to the spot from whence he hadcome. He advanced a dozen steps, then halted and stared about him. 

Suddenly an awful truth burst upon him. He was lost among the brush!

CHAPTER XIX. 

NELLIE MEETS VORLANGE. 

What had that awful cry heard by Dick meant?

To learn the particulars, we must go back to the time when NellieWinthrop started to escape from the cave in the cliff. 

The heart of the poor girl almost stopped beating as she saw PawneeBrown face about, ready to defend both her and himself from any enemywho might appear to help Yellow Elk. 

Urged by the great scout, she set off on a hasty run for the mouth ofthe cave. 

Before the entrance was gained she heard the crack of a pistol, butwhether fired by the boomer or an Indian she could not tell. 

"Heaven spare that brave man!" was the prayer which came to her almostbloodless lips. 

She looked around in vain for the horse spoken of by Pawnee Brown. Notan animal was in sight. Then she remembered what the scout had saidabout riding down the ravine, and she set off on foot. 

Not far from the mouth of the cave the ravine forked into two branches, the smaller fork ending at the distance of quarter of a mile in a cul desac, or blind pocket. Not knowing she was making any mistake, sheentered this fork and kept on running, expecting each instant to findPawnee Brown coming up behind her. 

"Oh, dear, I can't be right!"

Such was the cry which escaped her when she came to a halt, realizingshe could go no further in that direction. On both sides and in frontarose a series of rocks, more or less steep, and covered only with scrubbrush, impossible to ascend. 

She looked behind. No one was coming. All about her was as silent as atomb. 

"Perhaps I had better go back, " she mused, but the thought ofencountering an Indian made her shiver. In her life in the open she hadhad many an encounter with a wild animal, but redskins were as yetalmost new to her, and her experience with the hideous Yellow Elk hadbeen one she did not care to repeat. 

She had just turned to move back to the ravine proper, when a soundamong the rocks caused her to pause. She looked intently in thedirection, but could see nothing out of the ordinary. 

"Hullo, there, miss; what are you doing away out here?"

The cry came from the rocks on her right. Turning swiftly, she saw anevil-looking man scowling down upon her from a small opening under oneof the rocky walls of the _cul de sac_. The man was Louis Vorlange. 

Nellie did not know the fellow; indeed she had never heard of him. Butthere was that in the spy's manner which was not at all reassuring as heleaped down to where she stood. 

"I say, how did you come here?" went on Vorlange. 

"I--I just escaped from an Indian who carried me off from ArkansasCity, " answered Nellie. 

"An Indian! Who was it, do you know?"

"A fellow named Yellow Elk. "

Vorlange uttered a low whistle. 

"Where is he now?" he questioned. 

"I left him back in yonder hills, in a cave. "

Again the spy uttered a whistle, but whether of surprise or dismayNellie could not tell. 

"Were you alone with Yellow Elk?"

"I was for a time. But a white man came to my aid and the two had afight. "

"Who was the white man?"

Before she gave the matter a second thought, Nellie answered:

"Mr. Pawnee Brown. "

"Ha!" Vorlange's eyes gleamed, and the girl felt certain she had made amistake. 

"Where is Pawnee Brown now?"

"I left him in the cave with the Indian. I expected him to follow me. "

"I see. And what may your name be?"

The man's words were fair enough, but Nellie did not like his manner atall, so she turned upon him coldly. 

"And what is your name, and who are you?"

"I am not here to answer questions, miss. I am a government official, let that be enough for you to know. "

As he spoke Louis Vorlange caught Nellie by the arm. 

"Let go of me, " cried the frightened girl, and attempted to pull away, but Vorlange held her tight. 

"You come along with me. No one, and especially Pawnee Brown, has anyright in this territory just now, and it is my business to see that allsuch people are kept out. I presume you belong to that crowd of boomers, since you say you were carried off from Arkansas City?"

"I shall answer no more of your questions, sir. Let me go!"

"You'll come along with me, " muttered Vorlange. "I take it you knowwhat the boomers intend to do, and, if that is so, your information isjust what the government wants. "

So speaking he attempted to drag Nellie up the rocks to the openingbefore mentioned. The girl resisted with all of her strength, andVorlange received a box on the left ear which made that member of hisbody hum for a long time after. 

"You little wretch!" he cried, as he caught her up in his arms. "I willget square with you for that. "

"You are no gentleman! Let me go!" replied Nellie. Then she attempted toscream, but he promptly clapped his hand over her mouth. 

In another moment, despite her utmost struggles, he was carrying her upto the opening. This spot once reached, he took her inside and over to awell-like hole upon one side. 

"Do you see that hole?" he said sternly. "I am going to put you in thatfor the present, for safe keeping. I call it my prison cell, and no cellcould be better. It is not a cheerful place, but you will be as safethere as in the best prison in Chicago or San Francisco. I'll be backfor you soon, and in the meantime you had better make no attempt toescape, for at the mouth of this opening is set a gun, with a wireattachment, which may blow you up. "

This latter statement was a false one, but Vorlange rightfullycalculated that it would have its due effect upon the frightened girl. 

Having thus intimidated Nellie, Vorlange lowered her into the opening inthe rocks, which was about six feet in diameter and at least ten feetdeep. This done, he lit a lantern and hung it so that its rays mightshine down upon his captive. 

"You won't feel so lonesome with the light, " he said. "Now keep quietuntil I return. If you behave yourself you have nothing to fear. I am agovernment officer and I am holding you as a prisoner only until I canturn you over to the proper authorities. "

"It is a--a queer proceeding, " faltered Nellie. She could hardly bringherself to believe the man. 

"Out here we can't do things exactly as they are done in the bigcities, " grinned Vorlange. "We are out here after the boomers just now, and your being here with Pawnee Brown will rather go against you. Butkeep quiet now until I return. "

Thus speaking, the spy quirted the opening, leaving Nellie alone. Withhasty steps Vorlange made his way along the fork of the ravine until theopening proper was reached. Here he settled himself in a tree to watchfor Pawnee Brown's possible coming. But, as we know, the scout did notmove in that direction. 

For over two hours Nellie was left alone, a prey to the keenest mentaltorture it is possible to imagine. As the day was drawing to a closeVorlange appeared, a peculiar smile upon his face. 

He had met the cavalrymen, and Jack Rasco had been captured aspreviously described. 

"Well, we are going to move now, " he said to Nellie, and threw down arope that he might haul her up out of the hole. 

"Where to?"

"You'll learn that later. "

As she did not wish to remain in that damp spot longer, she caught therope and was drawn up. Then Vorlange took her outside and sat her downbefore him on his horse, first, however, tying her hands. 

It was during the ride that followed that Dick heard her cry for helpand started to her rescue, only to miss her and get lost in the brush. 

A ride of half an hour brought the pair to the edge of a heavy timber. Through this they picked their way, until a small clearing was gained, where was located a low log cabin, containing two rooms. The log cabinwas not inhabited, and Vorlange pushed open the door without ceremony. 

"You'll stay here over night, " he said, as he ushered Nellie into thesmaller room. "You can see this has been used for a prison before, asall of the windows are nailed up. I don't believe you'll try to escapeanyway, for, let me warn you, it won't pay. Make yourself as comfortableas you can, and in the morning we'll come to an understanding. We've gotanother prisoner besides yourself, and between the two of you I reckonwe'll find out before long just what the boomers are up to. "

And with a dark look upon his face, Louis Vorlange stalked out of theapartment, locking the door after him, and thus leaving Nellie to herfate. 

CHAPTER XX. 

THE MOVING OF THE BOOMERS. 

"Pawnee Brown at last!"

The words came from one of the boomers, a fat but spry old chap namedDunbar. 

"Yes, Dunbar, " answered the great scout. "Were you getting anxious aboutme?"

"Well, just a trifle, Pawnee. "

"The camp must move at once. Send the word around immediately, Dunbar. "

"Whar do we move to?"

"To Honnewell. As soon as all hands are at Honnewell I'll send outfurther orders. "

In less than half an hour the immense wagon train organized by theboomers located in Kansas was on the way. 

At the front rode Pawnee Brown, Clemmer and several others who werepersonal friends of the scout. 

It was a grand sight, this moving. To this day some of the boomers sayit was the grandest sight they ever beheld. 

Every heart was full of hope. Past trials and hardships were forgotten. The boomers were to enter the richest farming lands in the States andthere start life anew. 

The movement was made in silence and in almost utter darkness. Ofcourse, it was impossible to hide the news from the citizens of ArkansasCity, but the train was well on its way before the news had any chanceof spreading. 

At the time of which we write there were several trails to Honnewellfrom Arkansas City. The regular road was a fair one in good weather, but, after such a rain as had fallen, this trail was hub-deep with mudin more than one spot. 

"Oi'll not go thot trail, " was Delaney's comment. "Oi'll take the upperroad. "

"Thot's roight, Mike, " put in Rosy, his wife. "It's not meself as wantsto stick fast in this black mud. Sure, and it's worse nor the bogs ofErin!"

"Vot's dot road you vos speakin' apout alretty?" put in Humpendinck, whohad as heavy a wagon as anyone. 

"It's a better road nor this, Humpy, " replied Mike Delaney. "Folly mean' we'll rach Honnewell afore enny of 'em, mark me wurrud. "

Thus encouraged, Humpendinck followed Delaney on the upper trail, and, seeing the two go off, half a dozen followed. 

It was more than half an hour after before Pawnee Brown heard of theirdeparture. 

The great scout was much disturbed. 

"It's foolishness for them to start off on the upper trail, " hedeclared. "I went over it but a few days ago, and at Brown's Crossingthe road is all torn up by a freshet. Besides that, we must keeptogether. "

"Yer right thar, Pawnee, " answered Clemmer. "Delaney ought to knowbetter. But yer can't tell the Irish anything. "

"Humpendinck went with him, " put in Dunbar, who had brought the news. 

"Both the Irishman and the German are smart enough in their way, "answered Pawnee Brown. "But they've made a mistake. Cal and Dunbar, youcontinue at the head, and I'll ride across country and head Delaney andhis crowd back through the Allen trail. I'll probably rejoin you justthis side of Honnewell. "

With this command, Pawnee Brown left the wagon train and plunged offthrough the darkness alone. 

He had been over that district many times and thought he knew aboutevery foot of the ground. 

But for once the great scout was mistaken, and that mistake wasdestined to bring him into serious difficulty. 

About half a mile had been covered, and he was just approaching a patchof small timber, when he noticed that Bonnie Bird began to show signs ofshyness. She did not refuse to go forward, but evidently was proceedingagainst her will. 

Quick to notice a change in the beautiful mare's mood, Pawnee Brownspoke to her. She pawed the ground and tossed her head. 

"What is it, Bonnie? Danger ahead?"

Again the mare pawed the ground. Feeling certain something was wrong, Pawnee Brown stood up in his stirrups and looked about him. 

All was dark and silent upon every side. Overhead the faint stars shedbut an uncertain light. 

"It's one too many for me, Bonnie, " he mused. "Forward until the dangerbecomes clearer. "

Thus commanded, the mare moved forward once more, but this time muchslower. Once or twice her feet seemed to stick fast, but Pawnee Browndid not notice this. At last she came to a dead halt and would not goanother step. 

"The danger must be in the timber, " thought the boomer. "Bonnie Birdwouldn't balk for nothing. I'll dismount and reconnoitre. "

Springing to the ground, he drew his pistol and moved forward silently. Scarcely had he taken a dozen steps than he realized the cause of hismare's unwillingness to proceed further. 

He was in a bed of quicksand. 

Anybody who knows what a bed of quicksand is knows how dangerous itis--dangerous to both man and beast. Just as the scout made hisdiscovery he sank up to his knees in the mass. 

"By Jove! I must get back out of this, and in double-quick order, " hemuttered, and tried to turn, to find himself sinking up to his waist. 

Pawnee Brown was now fully alive to the grave peril of his situation. 

He tried by all the strength at his command to pull himself to the firmground from which he had started. 

He could not budge a foot. True, he took one step, but it was only tosink in deeper than ever. 

Several minutes of great anxiety passed. He had sunk very nearly up tohis armpits. 

Quarter of an hour more and he would be up to his head, and then----?Brave as he was, the great scout did not dare to think further. The ideaof a death in the treacherous quicksand was truly horrible. 

His friends would wonder what had become of him, but it was not likelythat they would ever find his body. 

And even faithful Bonnie Bird would be dumb, so far as telling theparticulars of her master's disappearance was concerned. 

The mare now stood upon the edge of the quicksands, fifteen feet off, whining anxiously. She knew as well as though she had been a human beingthat something was wrong. 

Suddenly an inspiration came to Pawnee Brown. 

"How foolish! Why didn't I think of that before?" he muttered. 

At his belt had hung a lariat, placed there when the wagon trainstarted, in case any of the animals should attempt to run off in thedarkness. 

The boomer could use a lariat as well as Clemmer or any of the cowboys. More than once, riding at full speed upon his mare, he had thrown thenoose around any foot of a steer that was selected by those looking on. 

He put his hand down to his waist and felt for the lariat. It was stillthere, and he brought it up and swung it over his head, to free it fromthe quicksand. 

As has been stated, the belt of timber was not far away, the nearesttree being less than fifty feet from where he remained stuck. 

Preparing the lariat, he threw the noose up and away from him. Itcircled through the air and fell over the nearest branch of the tree. Hauling it taut, Pawnee Brown tested it, to make sure it would not slip, and then began to haul himself up, as Rasco had done at the swamp hole. 

It was slow work, and more than once he felt that the lariat wouldbreak, so great was the strain put upon it. 

But it held, and a few minutes later Pawnee Brown found himself withsomewhat cut hands, safe in the branches of the tree. 

Winding up the lariat, he descended to the ground, and made a detour towhere Bonnie Bird remained standing, and to where he had cast hispistol. 

The mare and weapon secured, he continued on his way, but made certainto wander into no more quicksand spots. 

"It was too narrow an escape for comfort, " was the way in which PawneeBrown expressed himself, when he told the story later. 

An hour after found him again among the boomers. 

Mike Delaney was just coming in by the Allen trail. The Irishman wasmuch crestfallen over his failure to find a better trail than thatselected by the scout, and Rosy was giving it to him with a vengeance. 

"Th' nixt toime ye go forward it will be undher Pawnee Brown'sdirections, Moike Delaney!" she cried. "It's not yerself thot is aswoise as Moses in the wilderness, moind thot!" And her clenched fistshook vigorously to emphasize her words. After that Delaney neverstrayed from the proper trail again. 

All of the boomers but Jack Rasco were now on hand, and as hour afterhour went by and Rasco did not turn up, Pawnee Brown grew anxious aboutthe welfare of his right-hand man. 

"Looking for the girl had brought him into trouble, more than likely, "he thought, as he rode away from Honnewell, taking a due south course. "And what can have become of her?"

Pawnee Brown was on his way to the spot where he had left Dick. He haddecided that as soon as he had found the lad, he would return to camp, and then the onward march of the boomers for Oklahoma should at once bebegun. 

On through the ravine where he had met Yellow Elk he dashed, Bonnie Birdfeeling fresh after a short rest and her morning meal, for the sun wasnow creeping skyward. On through the brush, and he turned toward theopen prairie. 

"Halt! Throw up your hands!"

The unexpected command came from the thicket on the edge of the prairie. On the instant the boomer wheeled about. The sight which met his gazecaused his heart to sink within him. There, drawn up in line, was thefull troop of cavalry sent out by the government to stop the boomers'entrance to the much-coveted territory. 

Vorlange's spy work was responsible, and Pawnee Brown's carefully-laidplan had fallen through. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

DICK'S DISAGREEABLE DISCOVERY. 

"Lost!"

Dick murmured the word over and over again, as he peered through thebrush, first in one direction and then in another. 

"I ought to have kept track of where I was going, " he went on bitterly. "Of course, away out here one place is about as good as another forhiding, but how am I going to find the others, or, rather, how are theygoing to find me, when they come back?"

He pushed on for nearly a quarter of an hour; then, coming to a flatrock, threw himself down for reflection. 

"Just my luck!" he muttered. "I'll have to have a string tied about myneck like a poodle dog. What a clown I was to go it blind! But Nellie'scry for help made me forget everything else. Poor girl! I do hope she issafe. If that redskin--gosh! what's that?"

The flat rock was backed up by a number of heavy bushes. From thesebushes had come a peculiar noise, half grunt, half yawn! Dick leaped tohis feet, the bushes parted and there appeared the savage face ofYellow Elk!

Dick knew the Indian by that plume of which he had heard so much. Herightfully guessed that Yellow Elk had been taking a nap behind thebushes. He had been shot in the thigh, and this, coupled with the factthat he had had no sleep for two nights, had made him very weary. 

As the Indian chief shoved his face into view he caught sight of Dickand uttered a slight huh! Up came the boy's weapon, but on the instantYellow Elk disappeared. 

For the moment Dick was too paralyzed to move. Like a flash he realizedthat Yellow Elk had the better of him, for the Indian was behindshelter, while he stood in a clearing. 

"White boy stand still!" came in guttural tones from the redskin. "Don'tdare move, or Indian shoot. "

"What do you want of me?" asked Dick. 

"White boy all alone?"

"What business is that of yours?"

At this Yellow Elk muttered a grunt. Then from out of the bushes Dicksaw thrust the shining barrel of a horse pistol. 

"White boy throw down little shooter, " commanded the redskin. By littleshooter he meant Dick's pistol. 

There was no help for it, and the youth did as requested. 

"White boy got udder shooter?"

"No. "

"Now say if white boy alone. Speak if want to save life. "

"Yes, I am alone, Yellow Elk. "

"Ha! you know Yellow Elk?" cried the Indian in surprise. 

"I've heard of you. "

"What white boy do here?"

"I am lost. "

"Lost. Huh!" and a look of disgust crossed the Indian chiefs face. Theidea of a human being losing his way was something he could notunderstand. During his life he had covered thousands of miles of prairieand forest lands and had never yet lost himself. Such is the trainingand instinct of a true American aboriginal. 

While speaking Yellow Elk had leaped through the brush, and now he cameup and peered into Dick's face. Instantly his eyes filled with anger. 

"I know white boy; he friend to Pawnee Brown. Indian see him at bigmoving. "--meaning the camp of the boomers. He had not noticed Dick in thefight at the cave. 

"Yes, Pawnee Brown is my friend, " answered Dick. "Where is he now?" headded, to throw the Indian off the series of questions he waspropounding. 

"Pawnee Brown dead!" muttered Yellow Elk simply. "White boy come withme. "

"With you!" ejaculated Dick, a chill creeping up to his heart. 

"Yes; come now. No wait, or Yellow Elk shoot!" and again the horsepistol was raised. 

The tone was so ugly that Dick felt it would be useless to hang back. Yellow Elk pointed with his arm in the direction he wished the lad toproceed, and away they went, the Indian but a pace behind, and keepinghis pistol where it would be ready for use whenever required. 

Dick never forgot that walk in the starlight, taken at about the sametime that Pawnee Brown was floundering in the quicksand. A mile or morewas covered, over prairies, through a wood and across several smallstreams, for the fertile Indian Territory abounds in water courses. Yellow Elk stuck to him like a shadow, and the pistol was continually inevidence. Yellow Elk had likewise appropriated Dick's weapon, the onecast to the ground. 

Presently a clearing was gained where stood a cabin built of logs. Allabout the place was deserted. Going up to the cabin the Indian openedthe door and lit a match. 

"White boy go inside and we have talk, " said Yellow Elk, when there camea noise from the woods beyond. At once Yellow Elk pushed Dick into thecabin and bolted the door from the outside. 

"White boy keep quiet or Yellow Elk come in and kill!" he hissed, in alow but distinct tone. "No make a sound till Indian open door again. "

The Indian's words were so terrifying that Dick stood still for severalminutes exactly where he had been thrust. All was pitch dark around him. He listened, but not a sound reached his ears. 

"Where in the world is this adventure going to end?" was the thoughtwhich coursed through his mind. 

He wondered what had alarmed Yellow Elk. Was it the approach of somewhite friend? Fervidly he prayed it might be. 

A low, half-suppressed cough from somewhere close at hand caught his earand made him start. 

"Who is there?" he asked aloud. 

"Oh, Dick Arbuckle, is that you?" came in an eager voice. 

"Nellie Winthrop! Is it possible? Where are you?"

"In the next room. "

"Can't you come out?"

"No; I'm locked in. "

"Gosh, you don't say!" Forgetting his former fear, Dick hurried acrossthe cabin floor to the door of the inner apartment. Feeling around inthe dark he found a hasp and staple and pulled out the plug whichfastened the barrier. In another instant boy and girl plumped into eachother's arms in the darkness. Even in that moment of peril Dick couldnot resist giving Nellie a little squeeze, which she did not resent. 

"But how came you here?" asked the youth quickly. 

"I was captured by a government spy, who wants to get from me somesecret of the boomers. He is a bad-looking man, and I was awfully afraidof him. "

"Yellow Elk brought me here. We are prisoners together. Some noise inthe woods just took Yellow Elk off. "

"The man has been gone less than five minutes. Perhaps they are inleague with each other, " suggested Nellie. 

"Perhaps, or they may be enemies. But never mind how that stands. Wemust get away, Nellie, and that before Yellow Elk comes back. "

"Heaven knows, I am willing!" gasped the trembling girl. "I want no moreof Yellow Elk. "

"The window is nailed up, " went on Dick, after an examination. "And theIndian fastened that door from the outside. I wonder if I can't get outby way of the roof?" He lit a match and gazed upward. "There is anopening. Here goes!"

In another instant he was climbing up beside the fireplace, to where ascuttle led to the sloping roof. He was soon without, and Nellie heardhim drop to the ground. Then the outer door was thrown back. 

"Quick! The Indian is coming back, and there is somebody with him!"whispered Dick, and, taking hold of Nellie's hand, he led her away asfast as possible. Their course was from the rear of the cabin and acrossa broad but shallow stream. 

"We'll go down the stream a bit before we land, " said Dick, as they wereon the point of stepping out of the water. "That may serve to throwYellow Elk off the trail. "

"Yes, yes, but do hurry!" answered the girl. "If Yellow Elk gets hold ofme again I'll die!" The fear of getting into the clutches of the red manwas so great she trembled from head to foot and would have gone down hadnot Dick's strong arm supported her. 

It was wonderful how strong the youth felt, now that he had somebodybesides himself to protect. It is said that nature fits the back to theburden, and it must have been so in this case. For himself, he mighthave feared to face Yellow Elk single-handed; defending Nellie he would, if called upon, have faced a dozen redskins. 

On and on they went, as silently as possible. The trees overhung thebrook from both sides, making it pitch dark beneath. 

A distance of fifty yards had been covered, when they heard a loudexclamation of rage, followed by an Indian grunt. 

"The white man and the Indian have met and both have discovered ourflight, " whispered Dick. "Come, we will leave the stream and take toyonder woods. Surely among those trees we can find some safe hidingplace. "

They turned in toward shore. As they were about to step to dry landNellie's foot slipped on a round stone, making a loud splash. At thesame time the girl gave a faint cry. 

"My ankle--it's twisted!"

"Quick! let me carry you!" returned Dick, and, seeing the ankle mustpain her not a little, he picked her up in his arms and dove in amongthe trees. 

They were not a moment too soon, for the ready ears of Yellow Elk hadheard the splash and the cry, and now he came bounding in the direction, with Louis Vorlange at his heels. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

DICK HITS HIS MARK. 

"They are coming closer, Dick! What shall we do?"

It was Nellie Winthrop who asked the question. Boy and girl had enteredthe woods a distance of fifty feet from the bank of the brook, and bothrested where several large rocks and some overhanging bushes afforded aconvenient hiding place. 

"Keep quiet, Nellie, " he said in a murmur, with his lips close to hershell-like ears. And he gripped her arm to show her that he would standby her no matter what danger might befall them. 

It would have been foolhardy to say more, for Yellow Elk and LouisVorlange were now within hearing distance, and the ears of the Indianchief were more than ever on the alert. The government spy had lighted atorch, which he swung low to the brook bank, while Yellow Elk made anexamination of the ground. 

"Here footmarks!" grunted the redskin, a minute later, and pointed themout. "They go this way--cannot be far off. "

"Then after them, " muttered Vorlange. "It was through your stupiditythat the girl got away. Yellow Elk, I always put you down for beingsmarter than that. "

"Yellow Elk smart enough!" growled the Indian chief. 

"No, you're not. In some things you are like a block of wood, " grumbledVorlange. The escape of Nellie had put him out a good deal. 

The manner of the government spy provoked the Indian. To be called ablock of wood is, to the red man, a direct insult. Yellow Elkstraightened up. 

"White man big fool!" he hissed. "Yellow Elk not make chase for him, "and he folded his arms. 

"You won't go after the boy and the girl?" queried Vorlange. 

"No--white man hunt for himself if he want to catch the little womanagain. "

And having thus delivered himself, Yellow Elk sat down by the brook andrefused to budge another step. 

The Indian's objections to continuing the search were more numerous thanappeared on the surface. The so-called insult, bad as it was, was merelyan excuse to hide other motives. Yellow Elk had known Vorlange for yearsand as the spy was naturally a mean fellow, the redskin hated himaccordingly. 

Another reason for refusing to go ahead was that Yellow Elk knew onlytoo well that if Dick and Nellie were again taken, Vorlange wouldconsider both his own captives, and Yellow Elk would be "counted out" ofthe entire proceedings. He could not go to the agency and claim anyglory, for he had run away without permission, although he had toldVorlange he was away on a special mission connected with the soldiers. 

And deeper than all was the thought that if he did not capture Nellienow, he might do so later on, when he had separated from the spy. Eversince he had first seen the beautiful girl he had been covetous ofmaking her his squaw. Indian fashion, he felt he could compel Nellie tochoose him, even if he had to whip her into making the choice. 

"You won't go on with the search?" cried Vorlange, in a rage. 

"No, " was the short answer. 

"I say you shall! See here, Yellow Elk, do you want to be shot?"

"Yellow Elk not afraid of Vorlange--Vorlange know dat. Yellow Elk goback to cabin to see if girl or boy leave anything behind. "

Then he got up, waded across the brook again and disappeared among thetrees surrounding the log cabin. 

Louis Vorlange muttered a good many things in a very angry tone. Then, torch in hand, he started up the brook bank to follow the trail alone. 

Dick and Nellie listened to the quarrel with bated breath. Both hopedthat Vorlange would follow to the cabin. When he approached closer thanever, their hearts seemed to almost stop beating. 

Feeling that a contest was at hand, Dick groped around in the darknessfor some weapon. No stick was at hand, but at his feet lay a jaggedstone weighing all of a pound. He took it up and held it in readiness. 

Closer and closer came Vorlange, turning now to the right and now to theleft, for following the trail among the rocks and brush was no easymatter. 

"Might as well give yourselves up!" he called out. "I am bound to spotyou sooner or later. "

To this neither offered any reply, but Dick felt Nellie shiver. Theycould now see the flare of the torch plainly, for Vorlange was less thanthirty feet away. 

Presently the spy uttered a low cry of pleasure. He had found severalfootprints, where Dick had slipped from a rock into the dirt. Now hecame straight for them, waving the torch above his head that it mightthrow its light to a greater distance. 

[Illustration: "Dick had let fly the jagged stone, taking him directlyin the forehead and keeling him over like a tenpin"]

"So there you are!" The man caught sight of Nellie's dress. "I told youI would catch you. It's not such an easy matter to get away from LouisVorlange. The next time I lock you up--oh!"

A deep groan escaped the spy. Dick had let fly the jagged stone, takinghim directly in the forehead and keeling him over like a tenpin. Theblow left a deep cut from which the blood flowed in a stream, andVorlange was completely stunned. 

"Oh, Dick, have you--you--killed him?" burst from Nellie's lips, inhorror. 

"I guess not, Nellie; he's stunned, that's all. Come, let us run for itagain--before that Indian changes his mind and comes back. "

"You might take his pistol, " suggested the quick-witted girl. 

"A good idea--I will. Now let me carry you again, I see you can hardlystand on that foot. " For Nellie had limped along a dozen steps in greatpain. 

"But I am so heavy, Dick----"

"Never mind, I can carry you a little distance, at least. "

"You had better save yourself and let me go. "

"What! Nellie, do you think me so selfish? Never! Come, and we'll escapeor die in the attempt. "

And catching her up as before, he started off on as rapid a gait as theweight of his fair burden would permit. 

A distance of a hundred yards had been covered and Dick found himselfascending a slight hill. The climb was by no means easy, yet he kept onmanfully, knowing what capture by Yellow Elk might mean. 

"He would tomahawk me and carry Nellie off, " he thought, and it would behard to say which he thought the worst, the tomahawking or the carryingoff of the girl for whom he entertained such a high regard. 

The top of the hill reached, they saw before them a broad stretch ofopen prairie, flanked to the north and the south by the woods from whichthey had just emerged. 

"I'll be thrashed if I know where we are, " he said. "Have you any idea?"

"No, Dick, I am completely bewildered. "

"I wonder if it is safe to attempt to cross this prairie? It is prettydark, but that redskin has mighty sharp eyes. "

"Let us go down to the edge of the woods first and rest a bit. I am sureyou are pretty well out of breath, and if I can bathe my ankle in somecold water perhaps I'll be able to walk on it before long. "

"Don't try it, Nellie; I'll carry you, " and again the youth picked herup. 

It was not long before they reached a convenient hollow, where there wasa small pool. Here Nellie made herself comfortable and took off the shoewhich hurt her so much. Bathed, the ankle which had been twisted feltmuch better. It was still, however, much swollen, and to walk far onthat foot was as yet out of the question. 

An hour went by, a quiet hour, in which only the cries of the nightbirds and the occasional hoot of an owl disturbed them. They conversedin whispers and Dick's ears were ever on the alert, for he felt certainthat Vorlange or Yellow Elk would sooner or later continue the searchfor them. 

Nellie was very sleepy and at last her eyes closed and she dropped intoa slumber upon Dick's shoulder, forming such a pretty picture the youthcould do nothing but admire her. "I'll save her--I must do it!" hemurmured, and kissed her wavy tresses softly. 

It wanted still two hours to sunrise when he awakened her. She leaped upwith a start. 

"I have been asleep! Oh, Dick, why did you let me drop off?"

"I knew how tired you must be after going through all you did. But wemust be on our way now, before it grows lighter. How is the foot?"

"It is stiff, but much better. Which way shall we go?"

"Let us strike across the prairie and to the north. That is bound tobring us into Kansas sooner or later, and once there we'll be sure tolocate the boomers without much trouble. "

Both were hungry, but, as there was no food at hand, neither said a wordon that point. Getting a drink at a running brook close by, they startedoff, Dick holding Nellie's hand, that she might not go down on the anklethat was still weak. 

Only a corner of the broad prairie passed, and then they turned againinto a woods. The sun was now up and it was growing warmer. 

"I'll shoot a few birds if I can't find anything else, " said Dick. "Wecan't starve, and birds broiled over a fire will make a fair meal. "

"But the noise?" began Nellie. 

"I know; but, as I said, we can't starve, Nellie. We'll have to take therisk. Here goes!"

Dick crept forward to where half a dozen birds sat on a nearby bush. Thebirds were in a flutter over something, but Dick did not notice this. Bringing two of the birds into range for a single shot, he blazed awaywith his pistol. 

The sharp crack of the firearm was still echoing through the woods whenthere came a roar from behind the bushes the birds had occupied. Dickhad brought down his game and more, he had struck a bear in theshoulder. In another moment the huge beast leaped into sight, and withangry eyes and gleaming teeth bore straight for the astonished boy. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE SOLDIERS AGAIN. 

Never was Dick Arbuckle more astonished than when the big bear leapedout from behind the bushes and confronted himself and Nellie Winthrop. 

"Oh, Dick! a bear!" screamed the girl, and stood still, too paralyzedwith fright to move. 

As we know, Dick had just brought down several birds with hispistol--indeed it was this very shot which had clipped the bear--and nowthe weapon was empty and useless, having had but one chamber loaded. 

But as the great beast came forward, Dick knew enough not to standstill. He retreated in double-quick order, and forced Nellie toaccompany him. Away they went through the woods with the bear in closepursuit. 

At the start of the chase girl and boy were at least forty feet inadvance, but despite his bulk the bear made rapid progress, and slowlybut surely began to lessen the distance between himself and those hesought to make his victims. Looking over his shoulder, Dick saw himlumbering along, his mouth wide open and his blood-red tongue hangingout as though ready to lick him in. 

"I--I--can't run any more, " gasped Nellie. Her heart was beating asthough ready to break. "Oh, Dick, what shall we do?"

"Here is a tree with low branches--jump for that--I will help you up!"returned the youth, and in a few seconds they were in the tree, a scruboak, with the big bear underneath, eying them angrily, and speculatingupon how he could bring them down within reach of his powerful embraceand his hungry maw. 

"He is going to climb up, " came from Nellie's lips a few seconds later. She was right. Bruin had attacked the tree trunk and now he was comingup slowly, as though afraid of moving into some trap. 

Dick did not answer, for talking would have done no good. He wasre-loading the pistol with all possible speed. 

Crack! Dick had leaned down through the branches of the oak and takenaim at one of those bloodshot eyes. There was a howl and a roar, and thebear fell down with a crash that shook the forest. As to whether thebullet had found that eye or not Dick could not tell, but certain it wasthat once on the ground the bear picked himself up in short order andstarted to run away. 

"You hit him!" cried Nellie. "Oh, Dick, if only he don't come back!"

"He's not going away--very far, " answered the boy. The shot hadencouraged him and his blood was up. A moment later Nellie was horrifiedto behold him drop to the grass and make off after the beast. 

"That bear will kill him sure!" she ejaculated. "Oh, Dick, come back!please do!" she screamed. 

A shot answered her, a shot which was quickly followed by another. Aminute of painful silence; then suddenly the bear staggered into viewwith Dick at his heels. 

"I've nailed him!" shouted the boy, joyfully, and another shot did thework. With a groan the bear keeled over, gave a jerk or two, and died. 

Nellie was in such a tremble she could scarcely descend from the tree. When she did come down she found Dick hard at work cutting out a juicysteak from the bear's flank. 

"We'll have a breakfast fit for a king now, " he said, with a littlelaugh, to scatter his former nervousness. "Just wait till I light afire. I must gather the driest available sticks, so as to make as littlesmoke as possible. "

"Yes, we don't want our enemies to locate us, " answered the girl, andsaw to it that every twig which went on the blaze which was kindled wasas dry as a bone. 

In less than half an hour the steak had been done to a turn, and theysat down to eat it. It was certainly a most informal meal, withoutplates or platter, and only Dick's pocket knife to cut the steak with. Yet neither had ever enjoyed a repast more. Having finished, theyprocured a drink at a flowing stream behind them, and then Dick cut offa chunk of the bear meat, wrapped it in a bit of skin and slung it overhis shoulder. 

"We may want another meal of it before we reach civilization, " heexplained, "Nothing like preparing one's self, when we have the chance. "

"It's a shame to leave such a beautiful bear skin robe behind, " answeredNellie. "But I suppose it cannot be helped. Oh, if only we were safeonce more. "

Again they set off on their weary tramp northward, and thus nearly twomiles were covered. The sun was now coming out strongly, and Dick sawthat his fair companion was beginning to grow tired. 

"We will rest a little, Nellie, " he said, "I think perhaps we can affordto take it easy now. "

"I am so fearful that Indian is following us!" answered the girl with ashudder. "If he should find that bear, and--Oh, Dick, look!"

Nellie leaped to her feet from the seat she had just taken, and pointedbehind her. Dick gave one look and his heart sank within him. Yellow Elkwas bearing down upon them as swiftly as his long legs would permit!

In his hand the Indian chief carried a gun, and as Nellie arose hecaught sight of the pair and pointed the weapon at Dick's head. 

"White boy throw down pistol!" he called out, when within speakingdistance. 

"Let Yellow Elk throw down his gun, " answered Dick. His pistol was upand now he shoved Nellie behind him. 

"White boy fool--cannot shoot against Yellow Elk, " growled the redskin. He had been following their trail since sun-up and was somewhat winded. 

"Perhaps I can shoot. Did you see that bear I brought down?" rejoinedDick. 

At this the Indian frowned. 

"Bear must have been sick--white boy no bring game down like that ifwell--too powerful. "

"I brought him down and I'll bring you down if you don't stop where youare, " was the steady answer. 

"Oh, Dick, he'll shoot you, " whispered Nellie. She wanted to get beforehim, but he would not allow it. 

By this time Yellow Elk had arrived to within a dozen steps of them. Now he stopped and the frown upon his ugly countenance deepened. 

"Did white boy hear what Yellow Elk said?"

"I did. "

"Does white boy want to die?"

"Does Yellow Elk want to die? I can shoot as straight as you. "

The words had scarcely left Dick's mouth than there came a clear click. 

The redskin had fired point-blank at the lad, but the gun had failed togo off, the weapon being an old one the Indian had found at the fort--agun some soldier had discarded as useless. 

Following the click Nellie uttered a scream. Then came a crack as Dickfired, and Yellow Elk uttered a yell of pain, having received a painfulwound in the side. 

With clubbed gun the Indian now rushed in and a hand-to-hand strugglefollowed. Dick fought valiantly, but was no match for the tall redskin, and a well-directed blow laid him senseless upon the prairie grass. "Youhave killed him!" screamed Nellie. She was about to kneel at Dick'sside, when Yellow Elk hauled her back. 

"White dove come with me--boy no killed--be right by-an-by, " said theredskin. 

"I will not go with you!" she gasped. "Let me down!" for Yellow Elk hadraised her up to his broad shoulder. 

The redskin merely smiled grimly and set off on a swift walk, whichspeedily took both Nellie and himself out of sight of poor Dick. 

The girl's heart was almost broken by this swift turn of affairs. Shehad hoped in a few more hours to be safe among her friends, and here shewas once again the captive of the Indian she so much feared. 

On and on kept Yellow Elk until the stream was reached upon which waslocated the log cabin where Nellie had been a prisoner. She wondered ifYellow Elk was going to take her there again, but she asked noquestions. 

Presently the Indian chief came to a sudden halt and raised his head asif to listen. Nellie listened, too, and at a distance heard the tramp ofseveral men. At once Yellow Elk darted behind a number of bushes. 

"White girl make noise Yellow Elk kill!" he hissed into his faircaptive's ear, and drew his hunting knife. 

The tramp of feet came closer. A detachment of foot soldiers were movingthrough the woods. Soon they came within sight of the pair. 

As they came closer Nellie saw they were Government troops. A prisonerwas between them--a man. It was Jack Rasco. 

"Uncle Jack!" she moaned, when Yellow Elk clapped his hand over hermouth and pointed the hunting knife at her throat. 

"Hush!" he commanded, but this was unnecessary, for the discovery andher great fear had caused Nellie to swoon. She fell back, and for a longwhile she knew no more. 

In the meantime Dick had slowly recovered consciousness. The blow hadbeen a fearful one, and long after he sat up he was unable to rise tohis feet, so shaky was he in the legs. Slowly the realization of whathad occurred came back to him. 

"Gone--poor Nellie!" he gasped, and braced himself as best he could. Gazing around he saw that neither girl nor redskin was in sight. Withoutdelay he started to search for Yellow Elk's trail. 

He was loping along over the prairies when a shout from his left struckupon his ears. As he gazed in the direction he beheld a number ofsoldiers swooping down upon him. These were the men who had Jack Rasco aprisoner, the cavalrymen having turned the man of the plains over tothem. In a moment Dick was surrounded. 

"Jack!" cried the youth, and rushed up to Rasco. "What does this mean?"

"It means I'm a prisoner, " answered Rasco, sadly. "Have you seenanything of Nellie?"

In a moment Dick had told his story, to which the soldiers as well asRasco listened closely. At once several of the guard were sent off tohunt up the redskin, if it were possible to do so. Rasco wanted to goalong, but his request was refused. 

"You'll slip us if you get the chance, " said the officer in charge. "You'll go to the fort. And I fancy the boy will go, too, since he seemsto belong to the boomers. "

And against his earnest protestations Dick was made to accompany thesoldiers, being bound hand to hand with the man of the plains. 

An hour later the soldiers' camp was reached, and Rasco and Dick wereplaced in a temporary guard house. They had been there but a short whilewhen a visitor entered. It was--Louis Vorlange!

"So they have you safe, I see, " began Vorlange, when Rasco sprang at himand knocked him down. 

"Will you make my niece a prisoner, " he cried, wrathfully, for Dick hadtold him the story. "You dirty spy!"

"Hold up, " gasped Vorlange, his face growing white. "Rasco, don't be afool. I--I--made her a prisoner because I have orders to arrest anybodyfound roaming around----"

"I won't argy the p'int!" roared Rasco. "I know you, Vorlange, and sodoes Dick here. You robbed and nearly murdered thet boy's father!"

At these words Vorlange staggered back as though struck a blow. 

"Who says I--I did that?" he faltered. 

"I say so. "

"And so do I, " put in Dick, boldly. "We'll have a nice story to tellwhen we are brought out for examination, I'll tell you that. "

Vorlange breathed hard and glared from one to the other. Then of asudden he caught Dick by the arm and turned him to one side. 

"Boy, beware how you cross me, " he hissed into Dick's ears. "Beware, Isay! I have known your father for years, and I have the knowledge in mypossession which can send your father to the gallows. "

CHAPTER XXIV. 

CHASED BY CAVALRY. 

"Checkmated! By Jove, but this is too bad. "

Such were the words which issued from Pawnee Brown's lip as he swungaround and saw the cavalrymen sitting on their horses at attention. 

His disappointment was keen. In speaking of it afterwards he said:

"I never felt so bad in my life. I had promised to take the boomersthrough and I felt that I had disappointed nearly four thousand peoplewho were looking to me with utmost confidence. "

But disappointment was not the worst of it. Hardly had the command tohalt been issued than the captain of the troops advanced toward thescout. 

"Pawnee Brown!" he ejaculated, in surprise, and a smile of satisfactioncrossed his face. "This is a great pleasure. "

"Is it?" answered the great scout, coldly. 

"It is indeed. Do you intend to throw up your hands?"

For the scout's hands had not yet been lifted skyward. 

"This looks as if you meant to arrest me, captain. "

"Why shouldn't I? You are at the head of the Kansas boomers, are younot?"

"I have that honor, yes. "

"It's a question to me if it is an honor. You are transgressing the lawsof the United States when you try to get into Oklahoma for homesteadpurposes. "

"Say rather that we transgress the laws of the cattle kings, captain. Under the U. S. Homestead Law we have a perfect right to this land, ifwe can get in and stake our claims, and you know it. "

"I know nothing of the sort. This talk about the cattle kings is allnonsense!" roared the cavalry officer. He knew Pawnee Brown was morethan half right, but felt he must obey the orders he had received fromhis superiors. "I'll have to take you to the fort. "

"All right, take me--if you can, captain, " came the quick answer. "Don'tyou dare fire on me, for you know I am a crack shot and I promise I'llfire on you in return and lay you low!"

Thus speaking, the boomer wheeled about and sent Bonnie Bird off like ashot along the trail he had come. 

The movement was so quick that for the moment the cavalry officer wasparalyzed and knew not what to do. He raised his long pistol, butPawnee Brown's stern threat rang in his ears and he hesitated aboutusing the weapon, having no desire to be laid low. 

"After him, men!" he roared, upon recovering his wits. "We must capturehim!"

"Shall we fire, cap'n?" came from several, and a number of shiningpistol barrels were leveled toward the great scout. 

"N--no, capture him alive, " came the hesitating reply; and away went thecalvary men at a breakneck speed in pursuit. 

Looking back over his shoulder, Pawnee saw them coming. To lessen thechances of being shot, he bent low over his faithful mare's neck. 

"On, Bonnie, on!" he cried softly, and the beautiful animal seemed tounderstand that it was a race for life and death. 

"Crack!" It was the report of a pistol close at hand. Looking among thetrees, Pawnee Brown saw an arm wearing the colors of a cavalrymandisappearing among the foliage of a nearby tree. He aimed his own weaponand pulled the trigger. A yell of pain followed. 

The marksman had been Tucker, the fellow hired to take the great scout'slife. Tucker had been on picket duty for the cavalry troop, but hadfailed to note Pawnee Brown's first movement in that direction. Seeingthe scout coming, he had instantly thought of the promised reward andtaken aim. The bullet had struck Pawnee Brown's shoulder, merely, however, scraping the skin. On the return fire Tucker was hit in theside and nearly broke his neck in a tumble backward into a hole behindhim. 

The chase was not of long duration. Although they had good steeds, notone of the cavalryman's horses could gain upon the scout's sturdy racingmare, and soon they dropped further and further behind. Seeing this, Pawnee Brown turned to the eastward, out of the ravine, and in threeminutes had his pursuers entirely off the trail. 

His face grew thoughtful as he allowed Bonnie Bird to drop into a walk. The cavalry had followed the wagon train westward--they were bound tokeep the boomers in sight. What was to be done? Should he advise anothermovement during the night to come and then a forward dash?

"We might make it, " he mused. "But if we did not there would be afearful fight and possibly slaughter. I wish I knew just how matterswere going at Washington. "

Pawnee Brown had friends at the Capital, men who were doing their bestto defeat the cattle kings by having a bill passed in Congress openingOklahoma to settlement--a bill that would smooth the present difficultyfor all concerned. He felt that the bill was not needed, yet it would bebetter to have such a law than to have some of the boomers killed beforetheir rights could be established. 

"I'll send a messenger off to the nearest telegraph station andtelegraph for the news, " he went on. "A day's delay may mean many livessaved. It shall never be said that Pawnee Brown rushed in, heedless ofthe danger to those who trusted in him. "

It was not long before the scout reached the boomers' camp. Here hefound several waiting for him. 

"I want to see Pawnee Brown. " It was Dan Gilbert, who was making his waythrough the crowd to the great scout's side. Gilbert held a message fromArkansas City. It was to the effect that Pawnee Brown should telegraphto Washington at once and wait until noon at Arkansas City for a reply. 

Five minutes later Pawnee Brown was on the trail over which the wagontrain had journeyed the night before. He had told Gilbert, Clemmer andthe others of the nearness of the Government cavalrymen and had adviseda halt until further orders from himself. Clemmer had promised to wait, although ready "ter swoop down on 'em, b' gosh, an' take wot belongster us, " as he expressed himself. 

The ride back to Arkansas City was an uneventful one, and arrivingthere, Pawnee Brown lost no time in visiting the telegraph office. 

"A message for you, " said the operator, and handed it over. 

It was from Washington and stated: "The Oklahoma bill is now before theLower House; wait for more news. "

"I'm glad we've woke up those politicians at Washington, " murmured thescout, and then wrote out a telegram in reply. 

There was now nothing to do but to wait, and impatient as he was torejoin the boomers, Pawnee Brown had to content himself until anothermessage should reach him. To make the time pass more quickly the greatscout went around to a number of places buying supplies that were muchneeded. 

An hour later he found himself on the outskirts of the city, whence hehad come to look up several wagons, to replace some that had brokendown. He was galloping along on horseback when the sight of two menquarreling near the open doorway of a deserted barn caught his eye, andimpelled by something which was more than curiosity, he turned in fromthe road to see how the quarrel might end. As he came closer he sawthat one of the men was Mortimer Arbuckle!

"Hullo, what can this mean?" he cried, softly. "I thought Dick's fatherwas still in bed from the effects of that dastardly night's work. Whocan that stranger be?"

Dismounting, he tied Bonnie Bird to a tree and came forward, but in linewith the barn, that he might not be seen. Soon he was within easyhearing distance of all that was being said. 

"I want to know what brought you out here, Dike Powell?" he heard Mr. Arbuckle say in excited tones. "Did you follow me?"

"No, I did not, Arbuckle, " came in reply. "What makes you think I did?"

"I was knocked down and robbed but a few nights ago, and my mostvaluable papers, as well as my money, were taken from me. "

"Do you mean to insinuate that I am a thief?" cried Dike Powell. 

"You are none too good for it. I have not forgotten how you used tosneak around my office in New York after information concerning myWestern mining claims. "

"You're getting mighty sharp, Arbuckle. "

"I hope I am. I used to feel queer in my head at times, but--but--Ithink I am growing better of that. "

As he spoke Mortimer Arbuckle drew his white hand across his forehead. 

The attack and the adventure on the river had been fearful, but itreally looked as if they were going to prove of benefit to him. His eyeswere brighter than they had been for many a day. Pawnee Brown noticed, too, that his manner of talking was more direct than he usuallyemployed. 

"I hope for the boy's sake his mind is clearing, " he thought. 

"I think you are growing more queer--to accuse me, " said Dike Powell. "Inever harmed you. "

"I know better. While I was on my back I thought it all over. DikePowell, you are a villain, and if ever I get the chance I'll turn youover to the police. You have followed me to the West, and for no goodpurpose. I will unmask you. "

"Will you? Not much!"

Thus speaking, Dike Powell leaped forward. He was a powerful man, andcatching Mortimer Arbuckle by the throat, he would have borne thesemi-invalid to the floor had not Pawnee Brown interfered. 

There was a rush and a crack, as the scout's fist met Dike Powell's ear, and over the man rolled, to bring up against the side of the barn with acrash. 

"Who--who hit me?" spluttered the rascal, as, half dazed, he staggeredto his feet. "If I--Pawnee Brown!"

"Dike Powell!" ejaculated the scout, as he saw the fellow full in theface for the first time. "Where have you been these long years?"

"Oh, Pawnee, how glad I am that you came in, " panted Mortimer Arbuckle, sinking down upon an old feed box. "The villain was--was----"

"I saw it all, Arbuckle; rest yourself. I will take care of thisforger. "

"Forger!" came simultaneously from Mortimer Arbuckle and from hisassailant, but in different tones of voice. "Do you then know DikePowell?"

"Yes, I know him as Powell Dike, a forger, who fled from Peoria a dozenyears ago. And what do you know of him?"

"I know him as a Wall street sneak--a man who was forever hangingaround, trying to get information out of which he might make a fewdollars. I have accused him of following me to the West. I am inclinedto think he robbed me----"

"I did not, " ejaculated Powell Dike, for such really was his name. 

"I believe you, " replied Pawnee Brown. He had spoken to Dick and Rascoof this man. "But you know who did rob Mortimer Arbuckle, " he went on, significantly. 

"I--I--do not, " answered Powell Dike, but his lips trembled. 

"You lie, Dike. Now tell the truth. "

Pawnee Brown saw the manner of man he had to deal with and tapped hispistol. Instantly Powell Dike fell upon his knees. 

"Don't--don't shoot me!" he whined. "I'll tell all--everything. I am notdead positive, but--but I guess Louis Vorlange robbed Arbuckle. "

Pawnee Brown looked at Mortimer Arbuckle to see what effect thisdeclaration might have upon Dick's father. He saw the ex-stock brokerstart forward in amazement. Then he faltered, threw up his hands, andfell forward in a dead faint!

CHAPTER XXV. 

GOOD NEWS FROM WASHINGTON. 

"Fainted, by Jove!"

So spoke Pawnee Brown as he sprang forward to Mortimer Arbuckle's aid. 

The man was as pale as the driven snow, and for the instant the greatscout thought his very heart had stopped beating. 

He raised Mortimer Arbuckle up and opened his collar and took off histie, that he might get some air. 

"Wot's the row here?"

It was the voice of Peter Day, the backwoodsman who had agreed to takecare of Arbuckle during his illness. He had followed the man out of thehouse to see that no harm might befall him. 

"He has fainted, " answered Pawnee Brown. "Fetch some water, and holdthat--hang it, he's gone!"

Pawnee Brown rushed to the barn door. Far away he saw Powell Dikerunning as though the old Nick was after him. A second later the rascaldisappeared from view. The boomer never saw or heard of him again. 

Between the great scout and Pawnee Brown, Mortimer Arbuckle was onceagain taken to Day's home and made comfortable. 

"He insisted on taking a walk to-day, " explained the backwoodsman. "Itold him he couldn't stand it. I reckon he's as bad now as he ever was. "

"Take good care of him, Day, and beware of any men who may be prowlingabout, " answered Pawnee Brown. "There is something wrong in the air, butI'm satisfied that if we help this poor fellow we'll be on the rightside of the brush. "

Mortimer Arbuckle was now coming around, but when he spoke he was quiteout of his mind. The doctor was hastily sent for, and he administered apotion which speedily put the sufferer to sleep. 

"It's an odd case, " said the medical man. "The fellow is suffering morementally than physically. He must have something awful on his mind. "

"He is the victim of some plot--I am certain of it, " was the scout'sfirm answer. 

Not long after this, Pawnee Brown was returning to Arkansas City, certain that Mortimer Arbuckle would now be well cared for and closelywatched until he and Dick could return to the sufferer. 

"As soon as this booming business is over I must try to clear things forthat old gent, " murmured the boomer to himself as he rode up to thetelegraph office. "I'd do a good deal for him and that noble son ofhis. "

Another telegram had just come in, by way of Wichita, which ran asfollows:

"The Lower House of Congress has passed the Oklahoma bill. Pawnee Brownhas woke the politicians up at last. Stand ready to enter Oklahoma if anattempt is made to throw the bill aside in the Senate, but don't berash, as it may not be long before everything comes our way--in fact, itlooks as if everything would come very soon. "

At this telegram the great scout was inclined to throw up his hat andgive a cheer. His work in Kansas was having an effect. No longer couldthe cattle kings stand up against the rights of the people. He handedthe message to a number of his friends standing near. 

"Hurrah fer Pawnee Brown!" shouted one man, and standing on a soap boxread the telegram aloud. 

"Score one fer the boomers!"

"An' a big one fer Pawnee. "

"Don't hurry now, Pawnee, you've got 'em whar the hair ez good an'long!"

"It would seem so, men, " answered the great scout. "No, I'll be carefulnow--since the tide has turned. In less than sixty days I'll wager all Iam worth we'll march into Oklahoma without the first sign of trouble. "

It did not take the news long to travel to the boomers' camp, and greatwas the rejoicing upon every side. 

"Dot's der pest ding I vos hear for a month, " said Humpendinck. "Pawneeought to haf a medal alreatty. "

"It's a stattoo we will put up fer him in Oklahomy, " said Delaney. "Astattoo wid Pawnee a-ridin' loike mad to the new lands, wid theHomestead act in wan hand an' a bundle o' sthakes in th' other, an'under the stattoo we'll put the wurruds, 'Pawnee Brown, the St. Patrickav Oklahomy!'"

"Ach! go on mit yer St. Patrick!" howled Humpendinck. "He vos noddingsbut a snake killer. "

"Oh, mon!" burst in Rosy Delaney. "A snake killer, Moike, do ye moindthot? Swat the Dootchman wan, quick!"

And Mike "swatted" with an end of a fence rail he was chopping up forfirewood. But Humpendinck dodged, and Rosy caught the blow, and therefollowed a lively row between her and Mike, in the midst of which theGerman boomer sneaked away. 

"Dot Irishmans vos so fiery as der hair mit his head, " he muttered tohimself. "I dink I vos keep out of sight bis he vos cool off, andden--Mine gracious, Bumpkin, var did you come from? I dinks you vos leftbehind py Arkansas City. "

For there had suddenly appeared before Humpendinck the form of thedunce, hatless and with his black hair tumbled over his face in alldirections. 

"Ha, ha! where have I been?" cried Pumpkin. "Where haven't I been youhad better ask. I've been everywhere--among the soldiers and the boomersand the Indians. " He stopped short. "Where is Pawnee Brown?"

"Ofer py Clemmer's vagon. But he ton't vont ter pother mit you now. "

"He will bother with me, " and so speaking Pumpkin ran off, to reach thegreat scout's side and pluck him by the coat sleeve. 

"At your service, sir, " he said, bowing low, for with all of hispeculiarities Pumpkin had a great respect for Pawnee Brown. 

"What is it, lad?"

"I have to report, sir, that your pard is captured--Jack Rasco; he had afearful fight and the soldiers have him. Ha! ha! they will shootJack--if you let 'em, but I know you won't--will you now?"

"You are certain Jack is captured?"

"Dead sure--saw him with my own eyes. Ha! ha! they tried to catchPumpkin, but they might as well try to catch a ghost. Ha! ha! but I give'em a fine run. "

It took a good deal of talking to get a straight story from thehalf-witted youth, but at last Pawnee Brown was in full possession ofthe facts. Pumpkin had seen Rasco on the march just before Dick wastaken. 

Immediately after this the boomer held a short consultation withClemmer. 

"I feel it my duty to help Rasco to escape, if it can be done, " he said. "Besides, it is high time for me to return to Dick Arbuckle and to findout, if possible, what has become of Jack's niece. "

"Shall I go along?" questioned Clemmer, "I wouldn't like anythingbetter. "

"All right, come on, " answered the great scout. 

He had scarcely spoken when a loud cry rang out, coming from the lowerend of the camp. 

"Buckley's bull has broken loose! Look out for yourself, the beast hasgone mad!"

"Buckley's bull!" muttered Pawnee Brown. "I ordered him to slaughterthat vicious beast. Why, he's as fierce as those the Mexicans use intheir bull fights!"

"He's a terror, " answered Clemmer. "If he--By gum, here he comes, Pawnee!"

As he spoke Clemmer turned to one side and started to run. Lookingforward the great scout saw the bull bearing down upon him. The eyes ofthe creature were bloodshot and the foam was dripping from the cornersof his mouth, showing that he was clearly beyond control. 

The bull, which was of extra large size, had Clemmer in view, and madeafter the cowboy, who happened to be unarmed. Away went man and beast insomething of a circle, to fetch up near Pawnee Brown less than a minutelater. As they came close, Clemmer fell and went sprawling almost at thescout's feet. 

"Save me!" he panted. "Save me, Pawnee!"

Pawnee Brown did not answer. Leaping over the cowboy's prostrate form, he pulled out his pistol and his hunting knife and stood ready toreceive the bull, who came tearing along, with lowered horns, ready tocharge the scout to the death. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE BOOMER AND THE BULL. 

For the moment it looked as if Pawnee Brown meant to let the mad bullgore him to pieces. 

On and on came the beast until less than two yards separated him and thegreat scout. 

Crack! came the report of the boomer's pistol, and the bull fell back apace, clipped between the horns. A lucky swerve downward had saved himfrom a bullet wound through the eye. 

There was no time for another shot. With a bellow the bull leaped theintervening space and landed almost on top of Pawnee Brown!

A yell went up from those who saw the movement. 

"Pawnee is done fur. The bull will rip him inside out. "

"Buckley ought to have killed that bull long ago--that's the second timehe's gone on a rampage. "

"Somebody shoot him and save Pawnee!"

The last was a well meant cry, but a shot could not be thought of, forman and beast were too close together. 

But Pawnee Brown was not yet defeated. He still held his trusty huntingknife, and he was not terrorized as some of the onlookers imagined. 

A few words will explain the cause. In his day the scout had visitedMexico more than once, and while there had participated in more than onebull fight, on one occasion defeating a celebrated Mexican fighter andgaining a handsome prize. 

As the mad bull charged, the scout leaped like lightning to one side, and drove the hunting knife up to the hilt into the beast's throat. 

There was a spurt of blood, a bellow of pain, and the bull staggeredback several steps. 

He was badly wounded, but by no means out of the fight, as his glaringeyes still showed. He shook his head vigorously, then charged again. 

Once more the knife went up and came down, this time just below thebeast's ear. A fearful bellow came after the stroke. Before the bullcould retire, the knife was withdrawn and plunged in a third and lasttime. This third stroke wound up the encounter, for limping to one sidethe bull fell forward upon his knees, gave a kick or two with his hindlegs, and rolled over on the prairie grass, dead. 

"Hurrah! Pawnee has killed him. "

"Talk about yer bull fighters! They ain't in it with Pawnee!"

"Yer saved my life, " exclaimed Clemmer, who had risen. "I shan't forgetyer, Pawnee, " and he held out his broad hand for a shake. 

The bull dead, Pawnee Brown called Buckley up and gave him a lecture fornot having killed the vicious beast long ago. 

"You have no business to bring such a bull into camp in the first place, Buckley, " he said. "Be more careful in the future, or you'll have to getout, bag and baggage. That bull might have killed half a dozen peoplehad he charged the crowd. "

A short while after this the great scout and Clemmer set off fromHonnewell along the ravine in search of Dick, Rasco and Nellie Winthrop. The cheering news from Washington had set Pawnee Brown at rest so far ashis duty to the boomers was concerned, and he felt quite free to pursuehis own affairs and those of his immediate friends. 

"If possible I would like to meet Louis Vorlange and have a talk withhim, " he said to Clemmer, after having related what had occurred nearPeter Day's home. "I think that spy can clear up much of this mysteryconcerning Mortimer Arbuckle, if he will. "

"It ain't likely he'll open his trap, " answered Clemmer. "By doin' thethe'd only be gettin' himself in hot water. "

"We'll make him speak, " was Pawnee Brown's grim response. 

An hour of hard riding brought them to the spot where Dick had beenleft. Not a single trace of the lad could be found. Both men lookedblank. 

"Bet he's wandered off and got lost, " said Clemmer, and Pawnee Brownnodded. 

"We'll strike off eastward, Cal, and see if we can't find some trace ofhim. It is no use of going westward. If he had gone that way, he wouldhave reached the ravine and come up into Kansas. "

Once again they set off. An hour was spent here and there, when suddenlyClemmer uttered a cry. 

"Been a struggle hyer, Pawnee. See them footprints?"

"Three people, " answered the scout, making an inspection. "A boy, a girlor a woman, and an Indian. Can they have been Dick, Nellie Winthrop andYellow Elk? Hang me if it doesn't look like it. "

"Hyer's where the trail leads off, " said Clemmer. "And that's the boy's. Can't see nuthin' o' the gal's. "

"That means the Indian carried her off, " ejaculated Pawnee Brown. "Letus follow his trail without delay. "

"But the boy's?"

"You follow that, and I'll follow the redskin. If he had the girl I wantto know it. "

A few words more and they separated. Pawnee Brown was on his mettle andfollowed Yellow Elk's trail with all the keenness of an Indian himself. In half an hour he had reached the brook. Here he came to a series ofrocks and was forced to come to a halt. 

But not for long. Fording the water-course, he began a search whichspeedily revealed the trail again, leading to a small river a quarter ofa mile further on. 

He followed the river for less than fifty feet, when a number of voicesbroke upon his ears. 

"I'm sure I saw the redskin on the river, and he had a girl with him, Ross. "

"You must have been dreaming, Tucker. No redskins up here. "

"All right, I know what I am talking about. "

"I think I saw something, too, " said a third voice, that of Skimmy, thecalvary man. 

The three calvary men were out on a scouting expedition, to learn if theboomers were in the vicinity of the river. 

Tucker especially was on the lookout for Pawnee Brown, determined tobring the great scout down and thus win the reward Louis Vorlange hadpromised. 

The scout listened to the talk of the cavalrymen for fully ten minuteswith great interest. 

He had just started to move on, satisfied that it would be of no benefitto remain longer, when Tucker turned and walked his horse directlytoward the spot where he was concealed. 

"A boomer behind the brush!" shouted the cavalryman. "Come, boys, andtake him!"

Immediately there was a rush, and Pawnee Brown was surrounded. He hadhis pistol out and in return came the weapons of the trio. 

"Well, gentlemen, you seem to want to make me your prisoner, " said thescout, coolly. 

"Thet's wot, " cried Ross. "Eh, Tucker?"

To make Pawnee Brown a prisoner would be of no personal benefit to him. 

"You seem to bear me a grudge, " said the boomer, eying him sharply. 

Tucker could not stand that gaze and his eyes dropped. 

"Yes, you're a prisoner, " said Ross. "Let's bind him up, Skimmy. "

"Take that!"

Pawnee Brown leaped forward and hurled both Ross and Skimmy to theground. Ere they could rise he had turned upon Tucker. The tall calvaryman had his pistol cocked, and now he blazed away almost in PawneeBrown's face, and then both went down, with the scout on top. 

The flash of the pistol had scorched the boomer's skin, but the bulletsung over his head, missing him by less than an inch. As he came downupon Tucker he hit the cavalryman a terrific blow in the jaw, breakingthat member and knocking out several teeth. 

"On him!" yelled Skimmy, and tried to rise. But now Pawnee Brown wasagain up, and flung Skimmy on top of Ross. In a moment more he wasrunning along the river bank. 

He was almost out of sight, when there came two shots, from Ross andSkimmy. Neither hit him, however, and he continued on his way, while thetwo cavalrymen turned back to pick up Tucker, who lay in a heap, groaning and twisting from intense pain. The tall cavalryman could not, of course, talk, and his wound was so serious that there was nothing todo but to carry him to his horse, support him in the saddle and rideback to the fort for medical assistance. It was a clean knock-out, andone that Tucker had good cause to remember to the day of his death. 

It was some time ere Pawnee Brown struck the trail of Yellow Elk again, but having once spotted it he pursued his course with increased vigor. The trail led along the river to where there was almost a lake. This hadjust been reached, when he heard a scream. Instantly he recognizedNellie Winthrop's voice. 

"Thank heaven I came as soon as I did, " he murmured, and dashed forwardto the spot from whence the sound had proceeded. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE LAST OF YELLOW ELK. 

When Nellie Winthrop recovered sufficiently to realize what was going onaround her, she found herself upon Yellow Elk's back, with her handstied together at the wrists behind her. 

Away went the redskin until the vicinity where the encounter with Dickhad occurred was left far behind. 

The brook crossed, the Indian chief set off for the river. Not once didhe stop or speak until a pond was gained. 

Beyond the pond was a shelter of trees, growing in a circle which wasabout fifteen feet in diameter. Against the trees the brush had beenpiled, forming a rude hut. 

Taking Nellie inside of this shelter, Yellow Elk deposited her on theground. Of the cord which bound her hands there were several feet left, and this end he wound around a tree and tied fast. 

"Now white girl no run away, " he grinned. "Stay here now until YellowElk ready to let her go. "

To this she made no answer, for what would be the use of talking tosuch a fierce creature? She looked at his hideously painted face andshivered. 

Yellow Elk now went off, to be gone a long while. When he came back hefound her so tired she could scarcely stand beside the tree. She hadtried to free herself from her bonds but failed, and a tiny stream ofblood was running from one of her tender wrists. 

"Yellow Elk got horse now, " said the redskin. "We ride now--go manymiles. "

"Where to?" she faltered. 

"Never mind where--white girl come on. "

Yellow Elk's manner was so fierce she was frightened more than ever. TheIndian had stolen a horse and he had also stolen a lot of "fire-water, "and this drink was beginning to make him ugly. He drew out his huntingknife. 

"White girl got to become Yellow Elk's squaw!" he cried, brandishing theknife before her face. "No marry Yellow Elk me cut out her heart widdis!"

At this Nellie gave a shriek and it was this which was borne to the earsof Pawnee Brown. 

"Crying do white girl no good, " growled the redskin. "Come with me. "

"I will not go another foot, " and Nellie began to struggle. The Indianchief upbraided her roundly in his own language and ended by raising hisknife over her once more. 

"Help!" cried Nellie, and a moment later Pawnee Brown burst into view. Aglance showed him the true situation, and without hesitation he fired atYellow Elk. 

His bullet clipped across the redskin's chest. By this time Yellow Elkhad his own pistol out, and standing erect he aimed straight for theboomer's heart. 

Nellie screamed, and knowing nothing else to do, gave the Indian avigorous shove in the side, which destroyed the aim and made the bulletfly wide of the mark. 

In a second more the two men were at it in a hand-to-hand encounter eachtrying his best to get at the other with his hunting knife, being tooclose together to use a pistol. As Pawnee Brown afterward said:

"It was Yellow Elk's life or mine, and I made up my mind that it shouldnot be mine--I considered myself worth a good deal more than thatworthless redskin. "

A cut and a slash upon each side, and the two broke. Yellow Elk had hadenough of the fight, and now ran for it in sudden fear. He did not taketo the river shore, but skirted the pond and began to ascend a slighthill, beyond which was another fork of the ravine which has figured solargely in our story. 

"Let him go! he may kill you!" called out Nellie, when she saw PawneeBrown start in pursuit. But the scout paid no attention to her. Hisblood was up and he was determined to either exterminate Yellow Elk orbring him to terms. 

[Illustration: "In a second more the two men were in a hand-to-handencounter"]

The top of the hill was reached. Yellow Elk paused, not knowing exactlyhow to proceed. Looking back, he saw Pawnee Brown preparing to fire uponhim. A pause, and he attempted to leap down to a ledge below him. Hisfoot caught in the roots of a bush and over he went into a deep hollowheadlong. There was a sickening thud, a grunt, and all became quiet. 

Yellow Elk had paid the death penalty at last. 

When Pawnee Brown managed to climb down to the Indian's side, to makecertain the wily redskin was not shamming, he found Yellow Elk stonedead, his neck having been completely broken by his fall. He lay on hisback, his right hand still clutching his bloody hunting knife. 

"Gone now, " murmured the great scout. His face softened for an instant. "Hang it all, why must even a redskin be so all-fired bad? If he hadwanted to, Yellow Elk might have made a man of himself. I can't stop tobury him, and yet----Hullo, what are those papers sticking out of hispocket?"

The boomer had caught sight of a large packet which had been concealedin Yellow Elk's bosom. He took up the packet and looked it over. Itconsisted of half a dozen legal-looking documents and twice that numberof letters, some addressed to Mortimer Arbuckle and some addressed toLouis Vorlange. 

He read over the letters and documents with interest. Those of Dick'sfather related to the mine in Colorado and were evidently those stolenby Louis Vorlange upon the night of the opening of this tale. Theletters belonging to the government spy were epistles addressed toVorlange from a former friend and partner in various shady transactions. Of these we will hear more later. 

"Yellow Elk must have robbed Vorlange of these, " mused the great scout, as he rammed the packet in his pocket. In this he was right. Vorlangehad dropped the packet by accident and the Indian had failed to restoreit, there having been, as the reader knows, no love lost between the tworascals. 

Having placed the dead body among the bushes in a little hollow, PawneeBrown climbed out of the ravine again and rejoined Nellie, who wasgrowing impatient regarding his welfare. The story of what had happenedto Yellow Elk was soon told, the scout softening out the ghastlydetails. Then, to change the subject, he asked her if she knew her unclewas a prisoner of the soldiers. 

"Yes, " she replied. "Oh, sir, what will they do with him?"

"I don't believe they can do much, Nellie, " he answered. "According tothe news from Washington, everything is to be smoothed out, and ofcourse the government will have no case against any of us. "

"Can I get to my uncle from here? Where is he?"

"About five miles from here. Yes, we can get to him if we want to. "Pawnee Brown mused for a moment. "I'll risk it, " he said, half aloud. "They can't arrest me for coming to expose a criminal, and I have thefacts right here in my pocket. "

A moment later he was riding the horse Yellow Elk had stolen, whileNellie was seated upon Bonnie Bird. In this manner they struck out forthe agency, called by the soldiers a fort. 

About three miles had been covered, when suddenly there came a shoutfrom a thicket to one side of them. 

"The cavalry!" gasped Nellie. "What shall we do?"

"Take it coolly, Nellie. I have a winning card this trip, " smiled thegreat scout. 

A few seconds later half a dozen fine looking men rode forward, awell-known official of the Indian Territory at their head. 

"Pawnee Brown!" ejaculated the official, on recognizing the scout. "Itwould seem we had made quite a capture. What are you doing with SergeantMorris' horse?"

"Is this the animal?"

"It is. 

"I found him in the possession of a runaway Indian, Yellow Elk. If heis your property you are welcome to him, " and Pawnee Brown leaped to theground. 

"Humph! That is all right, but what are you doing here? Don't you knowyou are on forbidden ground?"

The scout's coolness was a great surprise to the official. 

"I would be--under ordinary circumstances, sir. But just now I am on amission to the agency: a mission I am convinced you will not attempt tohinder. "

"What is it?"

"I wish to expose a great criminal, a man who is now in the activeservice of the United States, although he ought to be in prison or onthe gallows. "

The official was much surprised. 

"I would like to know some of the particulars, Pawnee. "

"Are you bound for the agency?"

"Yes. "

"Then we will go together, and you can see what takes place. It willprobably be well worth your while. "

"This is no trick--I know you are itching to get into Oklahoma. "

"I will give you my word of honor, sir. I have received word fromWashington, and I feel certain that ere long this whole matter will besettled to our mutual satisfaction. In the meantime, booming can wait, "and Pawnee Brown smiled in a quiet way. 

A few words more followed, and Nellie was introduced. Then the wholeparty set off on a gallop for the agency, where was to be enacted thelast scene in this little drama of the southwest. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

CLEARING UP A MYSTERY--CONCLUSION. 

As Vorlange uttered his dire threat into Dick's ear, the boy turned paleand staggered against the wall of his prison. 

"Wot's that yer sayin'?" demanded Jack Rasco, who plainly saw thechanged look upon his companion's features. 

"It is none of your business, Rasco, " muttered the spy. "I told the boy;that's enough. "

Dick breathed hard. Part of that mystery of the past was out at last. His father was accused of murder--Vorlange held the evidence againsthim. Like a flash came back to him several things he had almostforgotten. He remembered how on more than one occasion his father hadsent money to the West after a letter had come which had upset himgreatly. That must have been hush money, to keep this rascal quiet. 

"I--I--do not believe you!" he cried in a faint tone. "My father is asupright as any gentleman in the land. "

"Is he?" sneered Vorlange. "All right, if you think so, just drive me tothe wall and see. "

"Where was this crime committed?"

"In Creede, Colorado--at the time the camp was started. "

"Who was killed?"

"A miner named Rickwell. He was once a partner of a man named Burch, ofwhom you have no doubt heard ere this. "

"Yes, Burch left us the property you know all about, since you stole thedeeds to it. Louis Vorlange, you are playing a deep part but you cannotmake me swallow your statements about my father. "

"Do you want me to expose him?"

"We'll see about that later. Rasco and I will certainly try to show youup for what you really are. "

"Very well, " blustered Vorlange. "Your father is a murderer, and heshall swing for it--unless you keep your mouth shut. I----"

Footsteps outside of the prison interrupted Louis Vorlange. An instantlater Pawnee Brown and half a dozen others stepped inside of theapartment. 

"Pawnee Brown!" cried Dick and Rasco together. 

"Are you a prisoner, too?" continued the boy. 

"Hardly, " smiled the great scout. Then he noticed Vorlange. "Just themen we are after. "

"Me?" ejaculated the spy. 

"Yes, you. "

"What do you want of me, Pawnee Brown? I want nothing to do with such asyou--a thieving, low-down boomer--who--oh!"

Vorlange ended with a yell, for Pawnee Brown had caught him by the earand almost jerked him off his feet. 

"Let up! Let up! Oh!"

"Now keep quiet Vorlange, " said the scout sternly. "You can thank yourstars that I didn't put a bullet through you for letting your tongue runso loosely. "

"Thet's so, b'gosh, " was Rasco's comment. "But say, Pawnee, he's areg'lar snake in the grass. "

"I know it. " Pawnee Brown looked at Dick. "Has he been threatening you, lad?"

"Yes; threatened me and my father, too. "

"Have no fear of him, Dick. Louis Vorlange, you have about reached theend of your rope. "

"What do you mean?" and the spy's lips quivered as he spoke. 

"I mean that I am here to expose you. " Pawnee Brown turned to the otherswho had come in. "Gentlemen, let me introduce to you Louis Vorlange, alias Captain Mull, once of Creede, Colorado. "

"Captain Mull!" exclaimed several. "Do you mean the Captain Mull thatwas wanted for several shady doings, Pawnee?"

"The same Captain Mull, gentlemen. "

"It is a--a lie!" screamed Louis Vorlange, but his looks belied him. 

"It is the truth, gentlemen, he is the man who once sported under thename of Captain Mull. But that is not all. "

"What else, Pawnee?"

"Some years ago a man by the name of Andrew Rickwell was murdered in theLast Chance hotel at Creede. At that time Creede was but a small placeand Captain Mull ran the hotel. Who murdered Rickwell was notdiscovered. But he had occupied a room with another man, a mining agentfrom New York named Mortimer Arbuckle, the father of this lad here, andsome thought Arbuckle had done the foul deed, and he had to run away toescape the fury of a mob. The horror of this occurrence unbalanced theman's mind and to this day he sometimes thinks he may be guilty. But heis innocent. "

"He is guilty!" shrieked Louis Vorlange. "I saw him do the deed!"

"I see you acknowledge you were in Creede at that time, " answered PawneeBill, and Vorlange staggered back over the bad break he had made. "As Isaid, Mortimer Arbuckle is innocent. There is the murderer, and here arethe documents to prove it--and to prove more--that Vorlange is a thief, that he assaulted Mortimer Arbuckle in the dark and left him for dead, and that he is now acting against the best interests of the UnitedStates government. "

As Pawnee Brown ended he pointed at Vorlange, and held aloft the packethe had taken from Yellow Elk. 

"My father's documents!" cried Dick. 

"The letters!" shrieked Louis Vorlange. Then he made a sudden leap tosecure them, but Pawnee Brown was too quick for him. The scout turned tothe captain of cavalry standing near. 

"You had better arrest him before he tries to escape. "

"They shall not arrest me!" came from Louis Vorlange's set lips. "Clearthe way!"

Like a flash his pistol came up and he fired into the crowd, whichparted in surprise and let him pass. But not more than ten steps werecovered when Pawnee Brown caught him by the arm and threw him headlongto the ground. At the same time the prison sentry fired, and Vorlangewas mortally wounded in the side. 

"I'll not forget you!" he cried to Pawnee Brown. "But for you I wouldhave lived in clover the balance of my life!" Then he fell into a faintfrom which he recovered presently, to linger for several days interrible anguish, dying at last in convulsions. 

With the death of Vorlange we bring our story to a close. By what wassaid during the man's last hours on earth, Mortimer Arbuckle wasentirely cleared of the cloud which had hung over his honorable name. Soon after this his right mind came back to him and to-day he is as welland happy as it is possible to imagine. 

Whatever became of Stillwater and Juan Donomez is not known. 

With the truce declared by the actions of the authorities at Washingtonand the word given by Pawnee Brown that no attempt should be made toenter Oklahoma for the present, it was not deemed advisable to holdeither Dick or Rasco longer, and the two were given their freedom, tojourney at once to Honnewell, in company with the great scout and NellieWinthrop. 

From Honnewell, Dick rode post haste to carry the glad news to hisfather. A scene followed which no pen can describe, a scene so sacred tothe two it must be left entirely to the imagination of the reader. Neverwas a man more proud of his son than was Mortimer Arbuckle of Dick, ormore grateful than was the mine-owner to Pawnee Brown for his courageousand marvelous work in clearing up the mystery. 

"He is a man among men, " he said. "God bless him!"

Nellie Winthrop was overjoyed to be with her uncle once again, and tookgood care that nothing should separate them. As for Jack, he guarded herwith a care which could not be exceeded. 

"Ef they carry her off again it will be over my dead body, b'gosh, " hemurmured more than once. 

And yet Nellie was carried off four years later. But this time thecarrying off was done by Dick Arbuckle, and both Nellie and Jack wereperfectly willing. The wedding was a grand one, for the Colorado claimshad panned out big for the Arbuckles, and the best man at the affair wasPawnee Brown. 

In due course of time the bill concerning Oklahoma was passed by theUnited States Senate and signed by the President. This was followed by agrand rush of the boomers to get the best of the land granted to them. The advance was led by Pawnee Brown, who, riding his ever faithfulBonnie Bird, covered twenty miles in the short space of sixty-fiveminutes and located his town site at the mouth of Big Turkey Creek. Thistown site, along with his other Oklahoma possessions, made the greatscout a rich man. He never grows weary of telling about this great rushinto Oklahoma. "It was grand, awe-inspiring, " he says. "I would go athousand miles to see it again--those hundreds of wagons, thousands ofhorsemen and heads of cattle, all going southward, over hills, throughforests, crossing brooks and rivers--all bound for the land which hassince made them so prosperous and happy. "

And here let us take leave of Dick Arbuckle, Pawnee Brown, and all theirfriends, wishing them well.