Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 10, Number 27, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 3 January 1880 — Page 6

x-

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

CHOOSING SIDES.

I it at 1 re member well,

A row of little boys and girls are standing ft op to spell, The low brown door was open, and across the meadow green *,

v(t4zCaneglimpses

ol the forest and the brook

*., that lay between. And *81 sat with dreamy eyes, and watch«d the silver gleam the waving locust blossoms that to cnlluteh fancy seem

Like the banners of the angels, borne aloft against the sky, My heart was full of shadows, and I'll tell the reason why. Twas "spellingday," and Harry Lane, the lad I loved the best, Who smiled upon me every morning sweeter than the rest, Had chosen Soe and dark eyed Kate as champions on his side, And thus to me came lesson first in worn an's wounded pride. Why marvel that a |mystic veil obscures the summer air, And shadows in the doorway seemed to mock my deep despair The woman's heart in'girlhood has Its em' bryo hopes and fears, With throerof tender passion, that mature in after years, j»A XltH 1 »:'ir Bat ere the gathering tear drops fell, the music of his voice Rang out like soft toned silver bells that that made my heart rejoice, And little May was chosen next to fill the vacant place. With smiles of pleasure chasing fast the sadness from her face. I eall to miud, though toug ago, that summer afternoon, The glance of love he gave me as 1 crossed that little room. And stranger still—my heart yet thrills with happiuess and pride Jks when be gently pressed my band, while standing by my side. Another summer afternoon, but links of 11 f© b6tW66Q -MH The golden chain of childhood and the years that Intervene, And Harry Lane, a lad no more, but a man of courtly grace, Is questioning with eager eyes a happy blushing face But not within the schoolroom now, lor 'neath the locust bloom, That toss abroad their giant arms and drop their fragrant plumes, We stand—and one would scarcely think he's "choosing sides" to-day, But then it is for life—he says—and chooses little May.

From the Novelist.

Blinds Nell

—OR, THE-

BY MORRIS REDWING

[Thisstory was begun in The Mail, Dec. 13th. Back numbers can be had of news agents, or by sending five cents for each copy to the office of the Saturday Evening Mall.]

CHAPTER VIII, DKVILS GULCH.

Bayo, the bear hunter, had pledged bis services to Arthur Bonateel tor the rescue of Alma and the banishment of the Swamp Angels.

Bonsteei was anxious for immediate work, but the bear hunter was 'more ?ool and circumspect. "I must see IkeMunson and consult with him," Baid Bayo. "I will return before morning and report. "There's no use going blundering through the woods without knowing something of what we are about. Munson will help us. He cm hunt out the devils, and then our work will be comparatively easy."

Bonsteei was forced to bow to the will of his superior in woodcraft, and Bayo left the settlement in quest of Ike Munson, the most celebrated trailer and hunter known on the northern border at that time.

Two hours thereafter Bayo ran upon the old soout, who had just returned to the little cabin which these two had oouupled for some months.

The trapper met Bayo with a grim smile. "Been ter the settlement agin, boy, hev ye?" queried the old scout, dropping the breech of his long rifle to the ground, and eyeing his proirg* curious* ly.

Ike Munson was a good specimen of the border hunter and trapper tall and lean, with a thin, rather heavy featured faoe, dark basal eyes and sunburnt cheeks.

He must have been fifty years old, as his hair and beard were both of an iron

fe was clad in tunic and leggins, a •tout deer's-thong about his waist, from whioh dangled a knife and a revolver. "You've guessed the truth, Ike," returned Bayo.

aTo

Wilson Clarke's T\

•Yea." "I thought so." il "Well, is there any harm done, Ike?" "Wal, as fur thet, I ean't say. What 1 might call barm you an* yer friends over you might think war a blesslh'." "Please explain," said Bayo "I'm •ore I do not understand you."

Tbe hunter laughed grimly. "Wal, B*yo, my lad, you hain't the

name

feller you usel ter be. Sense you been runnln' over ter tbe settlement so much, yer bead's got turned bind side afore. foct!" "I'm sure I don't go to the Ridge so •sry often." "You've got gal on tbe brain, bab," grunted tbe hunter. "There's nothin'so bad aa that. Bayo. Love turn more heads, an' ruins more men an' women, than a leetle fact. But how'd you find Miss May arter that row, where the old man went under, eb?" "I found poor May well nigh crushed uadef the blow. I have made vow, Ike, to punish tbe murderers of her father If I die for it. Owen DeWolf was •ne of tbe devils. I am here now for tbe purpose of seeing you. I know you will assist ne la hunting the rascals down." I "Yer right tliar, bub. Ole

Ike

Mun­

son never back on bis friends, au' Hain't likely he's goin* ter do it at this late day not milch. Let's bear tbe boll petic'lara, bub." said Munson, shifting a huge quid or Virginia ieat from one cheek to tbe other. "Come into tbe shanty and you shall bear it all,* said Bayo, moving toward the little log cabin that stood half bidden amid the dense undergrowth.

Oaee inside, tbe two men sat down, and tbe bear hunter related all tbe facta regarding the abdu^ton of Alma and the brutal murder of Wilaon Clarke, as be bad beard tkem while at the settlement.

After the young hunter had finished, old Munson sat for some time in silence, chewing his quid vigorously. "Well?" questioned Bayo, aUer a lime.

"It area mighty tough case, Bayo." "I am aware or that, Ike." "DeWolf la at tbe bottom of the hull business, eh?" "So I believe." "Thar's Whar yer fooled, boy, badly footed*" "How's that?" questioned tbe young hunter, in surprise. "Blind Nell's bad a band in tbia'ere job, bet yer life." "Blind Nell?" "Yas. You 'member her, I reckon," grunted the old man. "I have a feint recollection of such a personage," assented Bayo. "Sartin. Wal, she's at tbe head these 'ere Swamp Angels. She's as pison a critter as ever lived. I know bet bist'ry purty well, I kin tell you. She hates ole Bel wood an his wife like pison, an' from what I've l'arned, I can't blame her much. Mrs. Belwood did her a mighty big harm onct, an' she's boun' ter bev revenge. Miss Alma is in her hands, and mebbe has been branded afore this." ••Good Heavens! would the devils dare inflict the Skeleton Brand on a 'woman—on Alma?" cried Bayo, in a horrified tone. "Sartin, they'd delight in such deviltry. I made a disoovery this arter noon, however, that sets my mind to rest on one pint. DeWolf has a hankerin' arter Alma, an' I'm thinkin' he's playin' a sharp trick togit ole Belwooa's gal. I seed Parson' Page goin' down the river this artenrton, an' two felje^s 'long with him." "Well, what of that?" "Them fellers was Swamp Angels." "Well?" "Course, you know, I kept my eye peeied, I found whar they bad landed, an' what's more, tracked 'em ter Devil's Gnlch." "Good!" exclaimed the bear hunter, springing to his feet., "You have holed the rascals. All we've got to do now is to lead Bonsteei and a score of settlers to tbe gulch, and catch the rascals like rats in a trap. Ike, you're a trump! Give me your band."

Ike Munson looked grave. "Don't git excited but," he said, quickly, "I hed jist got back from my leetle tramp when you kim here. I calculated on goin' ter the Ridge at once. Now it are gittin' mighty late. You can't go ter the settlement an' git the

bojB

out in time ter do much afore

mornin'. Afore thet time the ole scratch may be ter pay in the den of sarpints. DeWolf hain't kerried old Page over thar fur nothin'." "No. What do you think is up?" "Hoe's goin' ter splice Miss Alma ter himself to-night, or my name's not Ike Munson." "We must prevent such viliainy." "We'll try, but I'm afeafd we'll be too late. I think Alma hain't been branded. DeWolf wants ter marry tbe gal, an' he's saved her from the brand fur himself." "That's logio, Ike," responded Bayo. "But what do you propose doing?" "I'll go ter tbe Devil's Gulcb, while you light out fur the Ridge like a streak o* greased lightnin'. Mebbe I can't do nothin',- but I'll kinder keep tbe reptiles busy till ye como, anyhow," said tbe old trapper significantly. "All right. I'm off instanter," said Bayo, going toward the door: "Hold a bit!" cried Munson.

vYou

know all about the gulch, I s'pose?" "Certainly." "You remember the ole den whar a nest o' counterfeiters once lodged?" "Yes. I explored the place once." "Good! Don't let the grass grow under yer feet, bub. Time's precious, an' ye must git ter the gulch by midnight ef ye kin. I'll see tnet tbe reptiles bas nough ter keep 'em all busy tell ye come." "Be careful, Ike. Don't let tbe rascals get tbeir clutches on .you if you can help it. I won't be gone long," said Ba.vo, grasping bis trusty rifle firmly, and giving bis old friend a parting shake of the hand. "Don't worry 'bout me, my lad. Ole Ike ain't goin' ter let them pison skunks shoye him under jest'yit, bet yer beets!"

Tbe two men separated. It was late now. Already tbe shadows of night were falling athwart the earth.

It was eight miles to the settlement, and four miles from the trapper's cabin to tbe great sink known as Devil's Gulcb.

The gulch was about twelve miles from the settlement, so that Bayo had twenty miles to travel before he could accomplish anything.

Maple river ran within half a mile of tbe gulcb, down whioh the two outlaws bas conveyed Dr. Page in a skiff.

They had deceived bim by a plausible story, and be went with tbe men willingly, little thinking where they were taking him.

Dr. Page lived only about two miles from Devil's Gulcb, on a beautiful plot of high ground which overlooked Maple river.

His wife and a boy were tbe only members of bis family besides himself. Devil's Gulch had long borne a bad reputation. Reports went forth that the place was haunted. Many years before tbe opening of our story a gang of counterfeiters had made an excavation In the rugged hillside, and there plied their nefarious oalling in comparative security. There were only a very Tew of the oldest people Who oould remember tbe time.

Tbe counterfeiters were finally hunted out from their concealment, seme of tbem being killed, one captured, and one making bis escape. Tbe spirits ol tbe dead men were said to haunt tbe guloh thereafter, and as most of the early settlers were superstitious, none cared to investigate tbe mysteries of tbe old den.

It was for this reason, perhaps, that tbe notorious band of outlaws, known as the Swamp Angels, made this tbeir headquarters for a time, believing that the superstitious settlers would hardly ventare to visit tbe gulch and its vicinity.

It was only a few rods from the trap par's cabin to the river. Old Ike Munson soon reached the bank.

Forth from tbe willows be drew a light Indian canoe, and sprang into it. Seizing tbe paddle, be sent tbe light craft swiftly over tb# water.

It was quite dark now, but tbe moon would soon be up, tendering tbe river aa light as the old hunter oared to bav« it.

Silently and swiftly fee canoe glided down tbe water' coarse. Twenty minutes later the moon shot up above the trees, saading a stream of light over the narrow river. "1 must be mighty keerful ef I try titles wita DeWolf. I reckon I baint so much afeard o' bim aa o' thet peaky Blind Nell. She's a boas, a rectar steam ingln', fur a woman, you bet," muttered Munson. bis thoughts intent on tbe business he had in band.

Ike was not more than half an hour in reaching the iqputh of tbe little creek that wound its way through Devil's Galch out into the broader Maple river.

Here be landed, drawing the canoe np into tbe bushes. Seizing bis trusty, rifle, he examined the bank of the river

closely. He was not long finding skiff, carefully concealed in the bushes, in which tbe two outlaws bad oonveyed Dr. Page down tbe river to thia point.

Munson had some misgivings as to the fate of poor Alma. Doubtless ere this she bad neen forced into a hateful union with tbe outlaw chief. This being tbe case, her fate was indeed 6ne worse tban (Jeath to a girl of her gentle and sensitive nature.

Walking cautiously forward tbe scout soon reached a point where the bluff rose nearly a hundred feet on either band. Tbe approach to theguich Vas easy from tbe river. A narrow path wound along the base of the bluff on tbe low land.

Tbe bill was a 1 moat perpendicular, and an ascent would have* been very difficult.

The outlaws bad chosen an admirable spot lor tbeir dan, since an enemy could approach only from the river, and the opening to tbe cave was guarded by several immense bowlders that formed an impregnable breMtWork.

Tbe den was happily conceived. Nature bad done more tban the band of man to make tbe place one of safety.

Munson soon found himself standing in close proximity to the bowlders at thejnogtn of tbe cave.

CHAPTER IX?

*TBX FORCED MARRIAGB.

We must now return to Alma, who was being dragged forth to meet the villain who had stolen her from home and friends to gratify the baser part of bis evil nature.

She felt that resistance would render her lot only t)be more miserable^ so she submitted, and. walked witb Morgan into the adjoining

Duty and fear contended for the mas* tery in.tha.old minister's heart. He saw the grim faces of tbe outlaws' about him, the savage scowl on the face of DeWolf, and believed that he was none too good to carry out his threat.

DeWolf still grasped tbe band Of Alma who stood mute and trembling, unable to utter a word.

Her doom was sealed. There was no help, no hope, and her heart sank like lead in her bosom.

Dr. Page yielded to bis fears. He was a good man, but be was mortal. Life was still sweet to bim, and besides, a marriage under such circumstances could not be binding.

Scarcely had be commenced tbe Words of tbe marriage service when the muffled report of a pistol reached tbeir ears from tbe mouth of the cave, followed by, a supressed cry.

Instantly the outlaws sprang to their feet, and grasped tbeir arms. Tbe face of Owen DeWolf grew suddenly pale.

Several of the outlaws hurried from the room to learn tbe cause of tbe disturbance.

A few minutes later they returned, accompanied by tbree others, dragging between tbem Ike Munson, tbe scout. "We've got a prisoner, captain," said one of the outlaws. "We nabbed him jist at the mouth of tbe cave, sneakin' around on all fours. What's to be done with tbe spy?" "It's Ike Munson, as I live!" exclaimed DeWolf. "Shut bim up in yonder room we'll 'teed to bis case snortly. Plr.ce a guard at tbe mouth of the cave, and two of you recobnoiter a bit there may be more of the rascals,"

Ike Munson's faoe was a picture to look upon. Rage and chagrin struggled for tbe ruhatery on his rugged features. "Ye murderin' devil," he growled, shaking his tl-tat DeWoif, "I'll git even with youyit bust me ef I don't, lact!"

The outlaw laughed coarsely. "I'll see your throat uicely cut inside of an hour, Ike Munaon," he said grimly, "so your chance to get even will be mighty slim. Shove„ him into that room, boys. Fll settle bis bash when I've 'tended to this little affair now on band." "Dont give np, Miss Alma the Lord will save ye fact!" said Munson to the half feinting girl, as tbe outlaws dragged tbe soout from tbe room. "Now, then, I hope there'll be no more trouble Go on, Mr. Page!" cried DeWolf, biting his nether lip impatiently.

And the farther proceedings were not interrupted. Tbe marriage ceremony was duly performed, and Alma Belwood and Owen DeWolf we^ejpronounced man and wife by the old minister.

Alma had not uttered

A

HAUTE SATUKDAY-"EVENING A 1L*

apartment, ..which

was tbe council chamber of the oiltlaws. The cave contained three rooms, this being tbe largest. The one at the side of tiuis opened into tbe outside air.

Tbe first room had been formed by nature, but the c.uncil chamber and the small apartment in which Alma had been confined since tier abduction,,bad been scooped out by tbe hand of man.

The chamber was brilliantly lighted, though whether night or day reigned without, Alma had no means of judging except as sbe guessed at tbe passage of time.

Half a dozen outlaws were seated in tbe room, Queen Bodilion occupying ber usual seat.

It was evident that the band was not all present, as Aima bad seen twice the number assembled thereonce before.

Owen DeWolf advanced aud took the trembling hand of tbe girl, "Dou't fret yourself, my pet," he said, a smile raising his black mustache. "A lady on ber wedding gay ought to. feel pleased and happy."'

Alma was mute. "You do not reply," said the outlaw grimly. 'Tis just as well you will learn to speak when once I am your lord and master. Morgan, you may summon Rev. Mr. Page."

Morgan vent out, soon returning accompanied by tbe eld minister, who bad been carefully blindfolded before being led into Devil'sGulch.

Alma uttered a glad cry as sbe met the face of tbe kind old clergyman. She bad known him long, and be was one of ber father's friends.

Tbe old minister's face was pale and troubled. lie understood now the nature bf tbe work he was expected to perform, jwd he shrank from tne ordeal. "Miss Belwood, is it indeedyou that stands before me? Can it be that you have consented to become the wife "ot this man, DeWolf?" said Dr. Page, in pained surprise. "I have never consented to be BjS-wijte I hate and despise him!" exclaimed Alma, vehemently. "Then why have you sent for me?" "I did not send lor you. I—" "Stop this nonsense," growled DeWolf. "I sent for you, Dr. Page,"to perforin a marriage ceremony. I'm free to confess that Alma does not know how deeply sbe loves me at present. After marriage I shall convince ber of that. Your duty, Mr. P»ge, is to perform the service without asking questions." "A forced marriage is not binding," said the minister. "Hark you!" growled DeWolf, angrily, "another word like that and I'll cut your wizen, old man. Do as you are bid and you shall be well paid refuse, and you die!"

word dguing

the ceremony. There was no response from her, when

asked if she would take this man for ber husband, but DeWolf responded for both.

Tbe whole affair passed like a dream to ber. Tbere was nothing real, nothing tangible in this cruel mockery. Everything was dark and hazy to her mental vision.

She was aroused to herself all too soon however. She felt the oourse, sensual lips of the outlaw chief pressed upon ber cheek, felt his arm tightening around her waist while his voice hissed, hot and seething in her ear: "You are mine now, sweet wife, mine forevermore!"

With a startled, horrified ory she struggled from his clasp, and sprang backward, white to the lips, her eyes dilating, her whole form trembling with intense loathing. "Cowardly wretch!" sbe exclaimed through her clinched teeth. "Never dare to pollute mv eheek witb your lips, my form witb your touch again. You have had a base mookery performed, which you call a marriage, but it is not binding. I am not your wife. I would sooner die tlian suffer the pollu tion of yonr touch again. Don't ap proach me! don't touch me! I'll smite you dead if you do. May God's judg meat rest upon yon, Owen DeWolf, for this last base wickedness!"

For a minute the outlaw chief stood aghast. His stout arm trembled, and he actually quailed before the bitter invectives of his new-made wife.

Queen Bodilion came down from her perch and approached. Her single eye glared hideously upon DeWolf and the pale, trembling, defiant Alma.

A hollow, jarring laugh fell from her lips. "How do iyou-like her, my lord DeWolf?" sbe questioned, sneeringly. "Would it not have been better to have allowed Blind Nell to have her own way? The Skeleton Brand would have quelled that defiant spirit of hers. She has her mother's nature. There's -a devil in her heart. She'll murder you some day, I'll venture to say," and Blind Nell's laugh rajng out. clear and sharp on the air, as she finished her little speech. "Hush!" exclaimed DeWolf, angrily, turning to the queen. "You have no right to speak disrespectfully of my wife. Alma is a little wild just at present, but I know how to bring her to terms, never fear," then turning once more to Alma, who still stood in an attitude of defiance, be said: "Alma, you are making quite a scene here. Now if you will promise me one thing, I will return you to your home before morning. Will you do it?" "I will not trust you!" cried the girl.

You're too great a villain to do an upright act." "Very well, then, it shall be worse for you. I merely wished to make you a fair offer, one that was in every way honorable since you decline to listen, I shall be compelled to hold you here a prisoner for some time. Now that you are my wife, you will understand.and obey me." *M •, "I am not your wife." "Doyou still defy me?"

DeW'olf sprang forward and seizsd the girl by tbe arm. His dark face was hideous in his awful rage. "Girl, if you dare defy me further, I'll make you wish you'd never been born. As Heaven hears me, I mean what I say!" be hissed in her ear.

She weakened then. He saw her face grow asben in its pallor saw and felt her trembling, sinktag form, and knew tnac nenau conquered.

He half led, half carried the maiden to the outer room, and summoned Morgan to-watch over her. "You will see that this lady's wants are supplied, Morgan," be said. "I will place a guard at the mouth of the cave so that there will be no chance for escape."

With these words, DeWolf left, tbe women and re-entered the council chamber.

The front room was a narrow fissure in tfcse earth, and was seldom used by the outlaws. Alms's former prison room was now occupied by Ike Munson so that this was the only unoccupied place for her.

After the departure of DeWolf, Alma breathed easier. Sfie felt that all danger to herself was over for the present.

DeWolf would have too much to occupy his mind to take notice of bis fair captive for the .next few hours.

The' next thing in order w'as to return Dr. Page to his home. He was accordingly blindfolded, and compelled to take a solemn oath never to speak to any living person of what be bad seen and heard that night.

The good minister demurred at first, but tbe cold muzzle of a revolver at bis temple soon quieted his scruples, and he took tbe oath.

Two men werfe selected by lot to return with tbe minister. One ef those selected was EH Norton, tbe giant woodman, who, since the destruction of bis home by tbe settlers bad openly espoused tbe cause of tbe outlaws.

The task ef returning was qmite easy, though rowing up tbe stream was by no means a rapid mode of transit. "You will be back by midnight, Norton said DeWolf. "Yea, or shortly after. There's no danger in tbe night, though ef any of tbe settlers ud git tbeir peepers onto me, I'd bave to climb, I tell you." i* Perhaps I can find another man to 'Bosh!" exclaimed. Norton. "Don't think I'm a coward, Owen. Tbe settlers won't catch me asleep."

In spite of his bold assertions, Eli Norton wa« quite a coward, after all, as we shall presently discover

The two men, witb Dr. Page between tbem, passed out of tbe cave and proceeded slowly along tbe path leading to tbe river, accommodating tbeir steps to those of tbe aged minister.

Id the course of twenty minutes they reached tbe river, and were soon afloat In tbe akiff.

Seising tbe oars, tbe two men pulled assilentiy ss possible up tbe stream. Their progress was necessarily slow against tbe strong current, and they were nearly two hours in reaching a point opposite Dr. Page's dwelling.

Here the outlaw, Norton, removed tbe blind from tbe good dootor'a eves, and bade bim make baste homeward.

Tbe outlaws believed that tbe minister wonld regard his oath yet tbey felt it a little safer to'blindfold him, as, ahould anything happen that be was compelled to speak, be would find some trouble, at least, in finding hi* way back to the outlaw *8 cave.

Norton and bis companion bad barely entered tbe boat and sboved eff when tbe sound of oars struck tbeir ears.

Some one besides themselves was upon tbe water. Listening intently, tbey beard tbe dip of oars again, and a large Mackinaw boat hove in sight, some ten rods up the stream. "Let oat, Bob that boat's full of men," whispered Norton, grasping his oar*.

!-wm

isis

They were discovered, however, th«

and

the other boat was gliding rapidly upon tbem. "Shall we make for shore whispered Norton "No they'll suspect something ef we do."

Norton drew his hat low over his eyes, hoping to screen his faoe should' the approaching boat contain enemies. "Boat ahoy!" cried a voice from the Mackinaw. "That's young Bonsteel's voioe. We're goners, Bob," cried the giant Norton, trembling with alarm.

CHAPTER X.

BBMORSB.

im

During the excitement of the past two

days George Belwood chafed under tbe delay that prevented his seeking for his daughter. His wife had suddenly grown worse, and required his attention.

Therefore he was compelled to place the whole charge of affairs in the hands ef young Arthur Bonsteei.

The young man was in love with Alma. He was intelligent, aotive and brave, and Mr. Belwood felt that he would do everything possible for the rescue of his child from the hands of Blind Nell.

What strange thoughts that name called up! Once the name of Nellie Graford bad been very sweet to him. That was long years ago, however, when he was but four-and-twenty, in tbe heyday of youth and activity.

Could it be that Blind Nell and that sweet-blooming girl were one and tbe same?

He remembered that a terrible calamity had befallen Nellie Graford in ber fresh womanhood yet he never fully understood the truth in all its hideous reslity.

Since the abduction of Alma, and the receipt of that last note signed by Blind Nell, Mrs. Belwood was utterly crushed.

She took to her bed, and grew rapidly worse from that hour. Her husband was not blind to the fact that his wife suffered the keenest remorse.

Her mind was troubled and ill at ease. The disappearance of Alma had much to do with her prostration yet, not this alone, brought that haggard, deathly expression to Madeline Belwood's face— the wild, frightened, pleading look to her dark eyes.

There was keen, bitter remorse tugging at. her heart strings, and now, witb the fell hand of retribution resting heavily upon her, the wretched woman realized tnat she had purchased her past happiness at a very dear prioe, indeed.

One of the old settlers professed some knowledge of medicine, and Mr. Belwood called him to tbe bedside of his wife.

He made an examination and left some medicine. The amateur physician's herbs and roots, though perhaps possessed of medicinal probertles, failed to benefit the sick woman.

After bis third visit, old Mr. Woods drew the husband aside.' "There's no use," he said "I cannot help your wife, Mr. Belwood." '*You think sbe will not recover, then questioned Belwood, slowly, feeling far from strong under the burden of his numerous afflictions.

I did not say that. I 1iave made a disoovery which has, perhaps, escaped your eyes." "Well? "This disease preying upon your wife is of the mind entirely. No medicine can b%el that!" returned Woods, slowly. "Yes. My poor Wife takes the, lo$s oJt her daughter to*rheart.""

Woods looked grave. He appeared a little nervous. "I'll tell you, Mr. B9lwood, it's my opinion that the disappearance of her ebild is not the sole cause of Mrs. Belwood's illness. Shall I state my opinion irankiy?" "Certainly."

f-fi

"There's something gnawing upon her heart perhaps remorse tor something long-hidden in tbe past."

Belwood started! This neighbor, then, had discovered what he himself had long suspected. He was now, more than ever, convinced tfr.at his wile was suffering for some wrong she bad perpetrated in tbe long ago. His half-formed suspicions were now confirmed, and with this confirmation came thoughts of Blind Nell.

Dismissing the doctor, the old settler once 'more sought the bedside of bis wife.

She seemed sleeping quietly, and he bad not the heart ti disturb her then. Belwood sat beside his wile for along hour.

Presently sbe stirred her Whole frame trembled, ber eyelids unclosed, and tbe eyes starred wildly, pleadingly upward. "Ob, Nell, Nell, forgive—forgive!" murmured tbe woman, plaintively.

Belwood sat watobing ber intently. Sbe did not appear te notice his presence, but continued to gsze into vacancy. "Cruel, unjust yee, I own it all! Ob, mercy,..mercy! God knowa bow much I bave snffsred for that one bad deed," moaned tbe woman, piteously.

Sbe grew calm for a moment. Suddenlv a great change swept over her pale faoe. The eyelids quivered,the eyes seemed starting from their sockets, while tbe bands were flung wildly upward, as ir pleading for mercy at tbe bands of Nemesis. "Ob, Nellie, Nellie, don't took at me so! dont, for tbe love of Heaven, kill me with that look! Those eyes,that faoe, da splitting sbrlbk sped from tbe invalid's

long, ear

tbe brand I the brand!" an Trek sped from li'l's white dropa, flecked with blood, oozed from ber mouth and tbe wbole form was in convulsions.

George Belwood was alarmed. He feared that h's wife was dying. He sprang to ber side, chafing ber limbs and calling on her name piteously. "Look up,Madeline!" he pleaded "it's I, George, your husband! You are safe from all barm! Speak, Madeline don't

All bis pleading, tender words failed to rouse tbe woman. Sbe passed from one fit into another, and George Belwood grew sick and faint witb tbe fear that sbe would die without recogpizlng him again.

One of tbe neighboring settlers* wives came in while Madeline Belwood was wrestling witb tbe grim monster, and tbe united efforts of the two finally quieted tbe raving woman, and sbe sank once more into a quiet sleep.

Gradually tbe truth was dawning upon tbe brain of George Belwood. What had onoe seemed mysterious and dark, was growing plain in his sight.

He shuddered as be thought of the past. He looked upon tbe pale, worn, troubled face of bis wife, and read there the suffering tbat always attends one wbo bas strayed from tbe path of rectitude. "PoorNeWe! Poor Madeline!" groaned Belwood, sinking on his knees beside tbe couch.

Then be poured out a silent prayer to his Maker, almost the first petition that had ever gone up from bis lipe to the throne of grace.

He felt better after this, and leaving

Madeline in the care of the settler's wL he walked out into the evening air cool his heated brain.

It was late. The moon was up, ridii in splendor through tbe eastern bea ens.

The tramp of many feot reached ear. Hurrying to the hill top, he saw soore of dark forms crossing the ml yard toward the river.

What did it mean? Instinctively walked down the hill and reached tl dock almost as soon as the men.

Arthur Bonsteei and a score of settler were embarking in a large Mackina boat. "Where, now, Arthur?" questione the lumberman, curiously. "Have yc discovered anything definite regarding my poor daughter's whereabouts?" "We have indeed," replied the^your captain. "Through the good offices Ike Munson and our young friend Bay we have made important disooverm. If nothing goes amiss. Alma will bit returned to your arms ere tbe mornin' sun rises." "Pray God your hopes may not pro\ groundless," returned Belwood, fer vently. "I have every reason to believe tb*j they will not," returned Arthur. "Dr you wish to accompany us, Mr. Bel wood?" "Impossible," returned tbe lumber? man, and then he explained the situs tion at home. "Youi troubles come not singly, bu in troops," said the youth, sadly "Keep up a brave heart, George, anr tell your wife to hope for the best."

Pressing Belwood warmly by th' hand, Arthur took his station in th*boat and gave tbe order to shove,oit.

Belwood watched them until a bend in tbo river bid tbem from sight ther he turned on his heel and hurried back to the house. "We must move with as little noise aa possible," said Bonsteei. "It wop't do to be discovered before wo reach th( outlaw's den in Devil's Gulch."

His commands were obeyed to the, letter. Tbe oars were-dipped slowly and si* lently, the ourrenb proving a great hel£ in sending them on their course.

Some miles down the stream tbey. came upon the two outlaws in the skiff.

Of course, Bonsteei suspected something wrong, for it was not a common thing for people to be riding on the river at midnight.

Boat ahoy!" cried Bonsteei, ort seeing tbat the ocoupanta of tbe skiff bad" discovered them.

There was no answer. "Pull up to them, lads!" commanded Arthur, in a low lone.

His order was obeyed with alacrity, and the Mackinaw ana skiff were soon alongside.

A dozen hands grappled the skiff Eli Norton drew his hat still lowor over his brows, hoping to escape recognition.

His gigantic stature was against him, however. "What are you doing on tbe river at this hour?" demanded Arthur, sternly. "Fishing," grunted Bob. "Ef that ain't Eli Norton, nenl'ma goat," cried oneoi the settlers, suddenly snatching the outlaw's bat from hia head, revealing his face plainly in the moonlight.

The recognition was mutual. ., The two outlaws were dragged roughly from tbe skiff and securely boundi with ropes brought for the purpose^ "Now then, Mr. Bonsteei,. we've jpaad^ a lQcky haul,"i said the oear hpater. "These fellows can be put to good one," "In what way "We will compel them to lead us into tbe robber's den. I know something about tbe place. It's strongly fortified at tbe mouth. Once past

that,

and we

can overpower tbe rascals easily. Norton here shall befog tbe guard

and

open

the way for us." "Not ef I know myself," growled Norton, doggedly." "We shall see," returned Bayo. significantly.

When the settlers reached the mouth of tbe oreek that run through Devil's Gulcb, tbey disembarked silently, examined tbeir fire arms, and then waited for Bayo to move.

Bousteel gave the oommandinto the hands of the bear hunter now, sinc^ he was well acquainted with tbe ground, and the others were not.

Bayo had apian whioh be had evolved since making the two outlaws captive. "Now tben, Eli Norton, we'll see what can be done with you," Mid tho bear hunter, sternly. "You must go on ahead, and if tbere is a guard at tbe mouth of tbe cave, you must call tbem aside,'and give us a fair chance to enter." "I'll not do it." "Ah, then you admit tbat yon are in league with DeWolf and his band. Arthur let's finish this obdurate rasoai now."

As Bayo spoke, he drew his hunting knife ana laid a band on Norton's arm. "Mercy! Don't murder mo!'' gaspedU the outlaw, in terror. "Will yon do as I bid?" "Yes, yes, anything only space say. life." "Very good now remember^ and beware bow you act. Tbe least sign off treachery will be cause for sending at bullet through yonr heart. Our boytf will be in eaqy rifle range, and if yon^ deceive me, yon die!"

Norton promised to do bla best to deceive the guard, and he was released from his bonds and sent some feet ia ad-** vance of the little party." "That's a dangerous experiment,"ffr whispered Bonsteei. "Perhaps, but I tbink it better to riakf" it tban to attempt carrying tbe Stronghold by force of arm*. If we can surprise tne villians, so much the better. I. expected to meet Ike, Munson here. fear somethlngjbas happened bim.,r "Norton will deceive us. He's a treacherous rascal." "We shall see," grimly responded thet bear hunter.

He understood the nature of Eli Norton better tban tbe rest. He knew himfr' to be an arrant coward, and believed^ tbat if tbere was any chance to save hlfc' neck by proving a traitor to his frlendi^uv he would not scruple in doing so.

Norton realized his danger. Twentyr determined settlers, be felt certain,.", would overcome tbe outlaws, no matter* what he might do. If he assisted tbem,p. perhaps bis past evil course might bOy~ forgiven, or overlooked at least. 5--

Reasoning thus, the villians went forward, fully determined on betraying^ the outlaw*stronghold into tbe bands of tbe settlers.

At the mouth of tbe cave, be came up-!|l| on tbe two guards, placed tbere by DeWolf.

Tbe story tbat be gave was, that hi» companion bad fallen and injured herself, and be wishes them to return witb

4

bim to help bring the poor fellow in. The guards went forward unsuspiciously to tbeir doom. [TO

BB

oownxuED.]

IT is tbe only medicine I would givef tom jr baby, a mother said, speaking of Dr. Boll's Baby Syrup. At all drug stores, 2o cents.