Beadle's Dime Library No. 362 — page 15: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Buffalo Bill’s Grip. ———EEeeEeEeEeEeE=aeEOEOEEEEeeEeee 15 , ‘You are a daisy, Ella,’ said Bill, with | along, Ginger Sam, so keep ’em rolling live- a laugh at the girl's spirited recital of her ad- | ly, for I am in a hurry.” venture. ‘* Yes, ther Boss Girl o’ the Big Horn, as my father calls me, and that is not saying much, as I am the only one in this region.” ‘* Your father, Ella?” She started, and her face flushed and paled, ¥ while she answered: : ‘Yes, my father; but don’t give me away, sul.” ‘**T don’t exactly see how I can.”’ ‘“To be square, Bill, 1’ll tell you a secret, if you'll keep it dark.” ‘Til not betray you, Ella.” ‘‘ Well, the old man is prowling round about here now, so I'll have to be quick, and then say good-by; for I cannot ask you home-adiee help the name!—as it would end in a Kilkenny cat fight between you and the old man ”’ ‘* With chances in favor of the old man, I guess, from what you say?” laughed Buffalo Bill. ‘Yes, for he’s the best behind-your-back shot I ever saw. ‘But he’s my father, Bill, and my duty is to him, though, had I been educated, as I am now,” and the girl laughed recklessly, ‘‘I'd never have been the Big Fool of the Big Horn that I am.” *“But you know the family in which I was living when you met me?” ** Your uncle, John Logan?” “*No uncle, but John Logan all the same, **My father had a hold on him, in some way, and Logan and his wife took me to live with them, and called me their niece. ‘‘Well, one day uncle Logan, as I called him, told me my father had sent for me, and I went with him to a point where I met my paternal. “He told me to come with him and I came, and he brought me here to these moun- tains, and here [have been ever since.”’ “It’s a nice place to hide, Ella.” ** Tip-top, isn’t it, and that’s just what we, or rather he, is doing. But you won't give it > a Bill?” “Willa, don’t they call your father Ginger Sam?” suddenly asked the scout. ‘* Yes, Bill, that was his nickname; but do not speak of his being here.” ‘“Do you love him very dearly, Ella?” ** Yes, Bill, though I know his faults. ‘*The fact is, my poor mother loved him, and he was good to her, and to me, when I was a little girl. **One day my mother told me she feared father was a very bad man, for he was never at home hardly, and from that time she faded away, and a year after died. ** Father came to her funeral, and she was buried at night, and by im and John Logan, and then I went to the Logans to live. ‘“‘He is good to me, and I fear would be much worse if it were not for me. ‘But he is all I have in the world to love, and if he should die, I would take my life, for I do not care to live.” Buffalo Bill started and turned pale, while he seemed lost in deep thought. Then he said quickly: : “Ella, I will tell you frankly that your father is a prisoner—’ _ “Oh, save him, Bill, for the love of God!” cried the poor girl in a frenzy. ‘“‘T will do all that I can. ‘*Go from here to your cabin, and leave our trail so that I can readily follow it, should I be too late, for I will come there.” ‘‘1f I am not, I will have your father guide me there.” ‘He will die first, Bill.” ‘No, he will do as I ask him. ‘« Now I must be off, and you go too.” ** But I'll skin the bear first.” ‘* D—— the bear,” cried Bill, with more energy than politeness, as he threw himself upon his horse, rode to the river, and swim- ming across, struck out for the little army under General Carr, with the result which the reader has already been made acquainted with, CHAPTER XXVII. CINGER 8AM’S DARING DASH. Upon leaving the temporary camp of the soldiers with his prisoner, Buffalo Bill start- ed down the river, as I have said. After getting out of sight, he said: ‘“You’ve got good vehicles for moving The man quickened his pace without a word, and holding on to the lariat the scout rode behind him. The traveling was far better than upon the other side of the river, and they made good time for a couple of miles, Just what he intended to do with him Buf falo Bill had not decided upon. To save him he bad acted wholly from im- pulse, his heart getting the best of him, out of a friendly regard for the unfortunate daughter of such a man, She had certainly saved Bill, at a time when there would have been no hope for him, and he had always felt toward her the greatest, gratitude. When scouting in the vicinity of John Logan's cabin, after his rescue je her, he always went to see her, and never failed to carry her some little souvenir of his appreci- ation for the service she had rendered him. She was hardly more than a child then, and it had pained him one day, when he halt- | suddenly upon him, would either have drag- ed at Logan’s cabin, to have it told him that she had mysteriously disappeared. It was hinted to the scout 4 her supposed uncle that she had fallen in love with some young border sport, and run off with him, and now, years after, he found her a hunt- ress of the Big Horn, living in the wilds with a man whom he knew to be the vilest of the vile. ithe her, he had gone back to the command, where he feared he might be detained by the general, on account of his i sivmmers to keep his promise to Feather eet. Confident that the scout had formed some deep plan vf action in regard to his return to the Indians, the general had made no effort to detain him, as at first he had threatened to do, though he disliked to see - rrhi upon an expedition of such great peril. After gaining a point where the trail led across the river, Buffalo Bill said: ‘Cross over, Ginger!” ‘* What does yer want ter cross fer?” was the surly response. ‘‘T have my reasons, so wade in.”’ ‘*No; I don’t keer ter git wet.” “Very well; take the back trail for the command, and take your chances with the platoon,” said Bill, indifferently. The outlaw shuddered, and replied quick- ‘* Tl cross the river.” “Right are you, Sammy, my boy.” Into the water they went, and once on the other shore, where a number of cattle trails divided, Buffalo Bill selected the one that would lead him to the scene of his adventure with Ella Wesley and the bear. ‘*Thet trail only goes up inter ther hills,” said the outlaw, nervously. ‘* It is into the hills I wish to go.” ** Ther’ hain’t nothin’ up thar yer wants,” *‘ There’s where you are off your base, Gin- ger, for there is.” ‘* What does yer want?” ‘*T desire that you shall take the quickest route to your cabin.” ‘*T’]l die fust,” was the savage reply. ** You had better do as I ask, for I am not one to palaver.” ‘Pll not go a step.” “Then [ll lead you there,” was the quiet replys The outlaw saw that Buffalo Bill knew more than he told him, and his thoughts flashed like lightning through his brain. His eyes falling upon the lariat end, held loosely in the hand of Buffalo Bill, his eyes suddenly 7 a with some inborn resolve, and he said, resignédly: *“ Waal, pard, as I don’t know thetI kin kick ag’in’ yer, I’ll do as you say.” ‘* Right, Sammy. ‘* Now move on!” The outlaw obeyed, taking the trail once more with nimble step. As it wound along the edge of a ravine, through the bed of which dashed a stream, the outlaw suddenly sprung over the preci- pice into the depths below. Buffalo Bill caught hard at the end of the lariat, as it tightened, but could not hold on, and the end slipped through his hand, and a plunge following, told him that his captive had fallen into the waters below. } CHAPTER XXYVIIL. BROUGHT TO*TERMS, GINGER Sam, the outlaw, or, as he pre- ferred to call himself, having no one to dis?’ pute the title with him, the ‘‘ Boss of the Big Horn,” knew exactly what he was do- ing when he took the seemingly fatal leap over the precipice. He knew the hills and valleys, the trails and canyons, as he did his own cabin home, and seeing that Buffalo Bill held the end of the lariat only, with which he was bound, and that it was not made fast to the saddle- horn, or around the scout’s waist, the idea struck him to attempt a bold escape. He knew the exact point, as the trail led along the edge of the cliff, where he should jump over, and watching his chance he did so, as the reader has seen. It was not in the strength of man to check his descent by the hold upon the lariat, which Buffalo Bill had, and could he have done so, the weight of the man, pulling - ged him from his saddle, or drawn his horse over the edge of the precipice. This Buffalo Bill saw in the twinkling of an eye, and nearly let go of the lasso. His first thought was, of course, that Gin- ger Sam had attempted suicide and had suc- ceeded. But, hardly had the splash of the descend- ing form reached his ears, when he was on foot and peering over the precipice, Me saw that the water was swift-flowin and deep, and that the stream wound out o sight afew rods below by turning a rocky point. Instantly he decided upon his course, and cast aside his arms and outer clothing. ‘Wait here, Red-skin, and kick the head off of anybody you see trying to steal my clothes and arms,” he cried to his horse, and — at once he took the leap, lt was thirty feet down to the water, but. he struck feet foremost, and without injury. In the mean time, a perfect swimmer, Ginger Sam knew just what was before him, aliougls his arms were bound behind his ack. Keeping under water until he had rounded the point, which the current and his own efforts soon enabled him to do, he then rose to the surface and began to make for the shore. It was hard work, with only his feet to aid his efforts, and retarded as he was b his Seles and the lariat; but he made it at last, and under the shelter of the over- hanging hill had just sat down to rest, smil- ing grimly at his escape, when round the point shot Buffalo Bill swimming with tre- mendous strokes, The hunted man uttered a cry of alarm, and springing to his feet, darted away at great speed, But the scout had always been noted for his fleetness on foot and he bounded along at a pace that overhauled the outlaw, who was hampered too by his bound arms and the dragging lariat. Seeing that Buffalo Bill was gaining upon rr he finally came to a halt, and sung out ustily : $ I wilts, Pard Bill. ‘*Don’t shoot me!” ‘‘T have nothing to shoot you with,Sam- | my, but I’ve a notion to drown you,” an- re) swered Bill, as he laid no light hand upon ! the other’s shoulder. | ‘* Don't do it, Bill, for *twan’t no fault o’ mine. ‘Yer see my foot slipped when I turn. | ed round ter speak ter you, an’ when IT 3 | found myself free, I concluded I'd try an’ stay so.” ‘‘As a scientific liar, Ginger Sam, you ara "way up; but come; you play horse, and Ill drive you back to the top of the cliff over which you accidentally fell. ‘‘Come, no funny business, but go!” There was nothing for the outlaw to do 2 WW but to obey, and he did that promptly, taking é: a route that soon brought them to where the | faithful horse was standing guard most c patently in the spot where his master had . eft him. ‘‘ Who'd ‘a’ thought ye’d have jumped over | thet precipice arter me?” said Gin er Sam, ty glancing at the place he had Jeaped from. ‘Oh! 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