6 TAKE HEART. Though fearful storms have swept In wralh About thy toilsome, rugged path, And thou hast ofttimes been cast down And sore dismayed by Fortune's frown. Faint not. but bravely bear thy part, O fellow man; once moro take heart. The storm is followed by the calm, And winter pales by airs of balin. Dark night gives place to sun-bright day; Let Hope still . # r Hue 011 thy way, Beyond the cloud still shines the sun; Press on until thy work is done. Perchance thou many times hast failed. Borne weakness over thee prevailed, And thou hast faltered in the strife And sadly rued thy blighted life; Though great thy grief and keen thy pain O weary one, take heart again! Dwell not upon thy mournful past. Arise, and for thy right stand fast; Be strong and brave, fold not thy hands. For thee still flows life's golden sands; To better things sweet voices call But God In love rules over all. —John Allen Guilford, In Boston Tran script. GEMEPAI— Ml SI 11 [Copyright. 1897, by F Tennyson Neely.J CHAPTER VI.—CONTINUED. Reassuring' as he meant his words to be, Marshall Dean himself looked anxiously about at the unprotected walls. Not even the customary "dug out" or underground refuge seemed to have been prepared. Almost every homestead, big or little, of those days, had its tunnel from the cellar to a dugout near at hand, stocked with provisions and water and provided with loopholes commanding the neigh borhood, and herein the besieged could take refuge and stand off the Indians until help should come from ,the nearest fort. "The name of Fol corn is our safeguard," said Mrs. Ilal, In her happy honeymoon days, but that was before the mother told her of the threats of Burning Star or the 6tory of the Ogallalla girl he vainly loved. "All that happened so long ago," she murmured, when at last the talo was told. But Ilal should have known, if she did not, that even when it jeeems to sleep Indian vengeance is but gaining force and fury. Presently Mrs. Ilal came tripping forth again, a little carte de visite in her hand, a smile of 110 little signili cance on her lips. "Now, Mr. Dean, will j-ou tell me what you think of that for a pappoose?" And with wonderment in his eyes the young officer stoil and held it and gazed. There stood Pappoose, to be sure, but what a change! The little maiden with the dark braids of hair hanging far below her waist had developed into a tall slender girl, with clear-cut oval face, crowned by a mass of dark tress es. lier heavy, low-arching brows spanned the thoughtful deep, dark brown eyes that seemed to speak the soul within and the beautiful face was lighted up with a smile that showed just a peep of faultless white teeth, gleaming through the warm curves of her soft, sensitive lips. The form was exquisitely rounded, yet supple and ereet. "Hasn't Jessie written you of how Nell has grown and improved?" said Mrs. Hall with a woman's quick note of the admiration and surprise in Dean's regard. "She must have."was the answer, "I'm sure she has, but perhaps 1 thought it schoolgirl rhapsody—per haps 1 had too many other things to think of." "Perhaps 3'ou'll find it superseding these too many other things, Mr. Sol dier Boy," was Mrs. Hal's mental com ment. "Now, sir, if you've gazed enough perhaps you'll tell me your plans," and .she stretched forth a re claiming hand. But he hung onto the prize. "Let me keep it a minute," he pleaded. "It's theloveliest thing I've seen in months." And, studying his absorbed face, she yielded, her eyebrows arching, a pret ty smile of feminine triumph about her lips, and neither noticed the non-com missioned officer hurrying within the gate, nor that half the men in "C" troop at their bivouac along the stream were on their feet and gazing to northeast, that far down the valley a horseman was speeding like the wind, that little puffs of smoke were rising from the crests of the grand landmark of the range and floating into the blue of the heavens. Both started to their feet at the abrupt an nouncement. "Lieutenant, there are smoke sig nals on Lar'mie Peak." CHAPTER VII. Lieut. Dean's orders required that he should march his troop without un necessary delay to Fort Emory, there to take station relieving troop F, or dered to change to Frayne, which meant, in so many words, to take the field. Capt. Brooks, still wrestling with the fever, had retired to his quarters at the old frontier fort that stood so long on the bluffs overlooking the fords of the Platte. The surgeon said lie ♦ must remain in bed at least a week, 60 meantime the troop packed up, cent its wagons ahead over the range, bade God speed to F as it passed through en route to the front, ex changed a volley of chaff and chewing tobacco over the parting game fcf "freeze out" fought to a finish on many an outspread saddle blanket, ithen jogged on toward Gal® City, making wide detour at the oug gestion of the field officer it» com mand at Frayne, that they might scout tire Laramie plains anil see that all was well at Folsom's ranch. This detour was duly reported to the peppery veteran at Fort Emory, an old colonel whose command was by this 1 inie reduced from "headquarters, field, staff and. band," six companies of in fantry and four troops of cavalry to the band and two desperately over- companies of foot. "Two nights in bed" were all his men could hope for, and sometimes no more than one, so grievous was the guard duty. Hence "old Pecksniff," his adjutant and quartermaster and his two remaining companies saw fit to take it as most unkind in Lieut. Col. Ford to authorize that diversion of Dean's, and highly im proper on Dean's part to attempt it. By this time, too, there was in cir culation at Emory a story that this transfer of C to interior lines and awr.y from probable contact with the Sioux was not so much that it had done far more than its share of that arduous work, completely using up its captain, as that, now the captain was used l up, the authorities had their doubts as to the "nerfe" of the lieu tenant in temporary command. A fel low who didn't care to come to Emory and preferred rough duty up along the Platte must be lacking iu some essen tial particular, thought, the women folk, and tit the very moment that Marshall Dean sat there at Hal Fol som's ranch, as brave and hardy and capable a young officer as ever forded the Platte, looking forward with pleas urable anticipations to those days to come at Emory, with .Tessie—Jessie and, of course, Pappoose—so close at hand in town, there was gaining ground at the post an impression that the safety of the board of officers sent to choose the site of the new Big Horn post had been imperiled by Dean's weakening at a critical moment in presence of a band of probably hostile Sioux. Burleigh had plainly intimated as much to his chief clerk and Col. 'Stevens, and when Loring and' Stone came through a day or two later and questions were asked about that meet ing, the aid-de-camp gave it as dis tinctly to be understood that he had practically assumed command, Dean's inexperience being manifest, and his own prompt measures had extricated the little detachment from a most deli cate and dangerous position. The en gineer, let it be said, did not hear this statement, and the aid was very care ful not to make it in his presence. He was a comparative stranger, and as no one presumed to question him he vol unteered no information. l'lanningtobivouac until dawn of the next day at Folsom's, Dean had then in tended to reach Fort Emory in three easy marches. lie was anxious to bring his horses in in best possible con dition, despite all their hard service; yet now, barely two o'clock on this hot June afternoon, came most unlooked for, most importunate interruption to his plans. Springing to the gate at the sergeant's summons, he first direct ed his gaze to the distant peaks, recog nized instantly the nature of the smoke puffs there rising, then turned for ex planation lo the swift-riding courier, whose horse's heels were making the dust fly from the sun-dried soil. One or two ranch hands, with anxious faces, came hastening over from the corral. The darky cook rushed up from the kitchen, rifle in hand. Plainly those fellows were well used to war's alarms. Mrs. Folsom, with staring eyes and dreadful anxiety in her face, gazed only at the hurrying courier, clinging the while to the pillar of the portico, as though needing support. The smoke puffs 011 the mountain, the dust-cloud back of the tearing rider were symp toms enough for Dean. "Get in your herd, sergeant!" he shouted, at the top of his voice; and over the rushing of the Laramie his words reached the rousing bivouac, and saddle blankets were sent swing ing in air in signal to the distant guards, and within a few seconds every horse was headed for home; and then, to the sound of excited voices was add ed the rousing thunder of scores of bounding hoofs, as, all in a dust-cloud of their own, the sixty chargers came galloping in, ears erect, eyes ablaze, nostrils wide, manes and tails stream ing in the blaze, guided by their eager guards full tilt for camp. Out ran their riders, bridles in hand, to meet and check them, every horse when within a few yards of his master seem ing to settle 011 his haunches and plow up the turf in the sudden efl'ort to check his speed, long months of service 011 the plains and in the heart of Indian land having taught them in times of alarm or peril that the quicker they reached the guiding hand and bore, each, his soldier on his back, the quicker would vanish the common foe. liven before the panting steed of the headlong courier came within hailing distance of the ranch, half the horses in the troop were caught and the bits were rattling between their teeth; then, as the messenger tore along the gentle slope that led to the gateway, his wearied horse laboring painfully at the rise, Mrs. Folsom recognized one of her husband's herdsmen, a man who had lived long years in Wyoming and could be unnerved by no false alarm, and her voice went up in a shriek of fear as she read the tidings in his al most ghastly face. "Where is Hal?" she screamed. "Oh, what has happened?" "He's safe," was the answering call, as the rider waved a reassuring hand, but at the instant he bent low. "Thank God, you're here, lieutenant," he gasped. "Mount quick. Hal's cor ralled two miles out there under the butte —Sioux!" And then they saw that he was swooning, that the blood w as streaming down the left thigh and leg, and before hand could help him, he rolled senseUss, doubled up in the dust at. his hyrse's feet, and the weary creature never even started. "Saddle up, men!" rang the order CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, JANUARY 3, 1901. across tlie stream. And then while strong arms lij'ted and bore the wound ed herdsman to the porch, Dean turned to the wailing- mistress, who, white faced and terror-stricken, was wring ing her hands and moaning' and run ning wildly up and down the walk and calling for some one togo and save her husband. Dean almost bore her to a chair and bade her fear nothing, lie and liis men would lose not a moment. On the lloor at her feet lay the little card photograph, audi Dean, hardly thinking what he did, stooped, picked it up and placed it in the pocket of his hunting shirt, just as the trumpeter on his plunging gray reached the gate. Dean's big, handsome charger trotting swiftly alongside. In an instant the lieutenant was in saddle, in another second a trooper galloped up with his belt and carbine. Already the men were leading into line across the stream, and, bidding the trumpeter tell Sergt. Shaughnessy to follow at speed, the young ollicer struck spur to his horse and, carbine in hand, a single trooper at his heels, away he darted down the valley. C troop, splashing through the ford a moment later, took the direct road past the stockade of the corral, disappeared from sight a moment behind that wooden fortiiica tion and, when next it hove in view, it was galloping front into line far down the Laramie, then once more vanished behind) its curtain of dust. "Two miles out there under the butte," was the only indication the young officer had of the scene of the fight, for fight he knew it must be, and even as he went bounding down the valley he recalled the story of the Indian girl, the threats of Burning Star, tiie vowed vengeance of her brothers. Could it be that, taking ad vantage of this raid of lied Cloud, far from all the reservations, far from possibility of detection by count of pry ing agents, -the three had induced a gang of daring, devil-may-care young warriors to slip away from the Big Horn with them and, riding stealthily away from the beaten trails, to ford the Platte beyond the ken of watch ful eyes at Fetterman and sneak through the mountain range to the beautiful, fertile valley beyond, and there lie in wait for Hal Folsom or for those he loved? What was to prevent? Well they knew the exact location of his ranch. They had fished and sport ed all about it in boy days—days when the soldiers and the Sioux were all good friends, days before the mistaken a-L n i// He waved a ragged abject on high. policy of a post commander had led to an attack upon a peaceful band, and that to the annihilation of the attack ing party. From that fatal day of the Grattan massacre ten years before, there had been no real truce with the Sioux, and now. was opportunity af forded for a long-plotted revenge. Dean wondered Folsom had not looked for it insteadi of sleeping in fancied security. A mile nearer the butte and, glanc ing back, he could see his faithful men come bounding in his tracks. A mile ahead, rising abruptly from the general level, a little knoll or butte jutted out. beyond the shoulders of the foothills and stood sentinel with in three hundred yards of the stream. On the near—the westward-side, noth ing could be seen of horse or man. Something told him he would find the combatants beyond—that dead or alive, Ilal Folsom would be there awaiting him. A glance at the com manding heights and the ridge that connected it with the tumbling, wood ed hills to the north, convinced him that at that moment some of the foe were lurking there, watching the westward valley, and by this time they knew full well of the coming of the cavalry to the rescue, liy this time, more than likely, they were scurrying off to the mountains again, returning the way they came, with a start of at least two miles. "With or without the coveted scalps?" he wondered. Thus far he had been riding straight for the butte. The road wound around and disap peared behind him, bTit there was no sonse in following the road. "Pursue and punish," was the thing to be done. Surely not more than a dozen were in the band, else that courier could never have hoped to get in, wounded as he was. The Indians were too few in number to dare follow to the ranch, guarded as, by almost God given luck, it happened to be through the unlooked-for presence of the troops. No, it was a small band, though a daring one. Its lookout had surely warned it by tliis time of his coming, nnd by this time, too, all save ojie or two who rode the fleetest ponies and lingered probabiy for a parting shot at the foremost ef the chase, had scampered away behind the curtain of that ridge. Therefore, in long curve, never checking his magnificent stride. Dean guided his bounding bay to the left—the north east —and headed fur the lowest point of the divide. And then it all occurred to him too that he was far in front of his men, too far to be of use to them and just far enough to be an easy prey for the lurking foe. Then, too, it occurred to him that he must not leave the ranch unprotected. Already he was within long rifle range of the height; already probably some beady eye was glancing through the sights, and the deadly tube was covering him as h>• came bounding on. Three hundred yards more and his life probably wouldn't be worth a dollar in con federate money, and wisely the young leader began to draw rein, and, turn ing In saddle, signaled to his single companion, laboring along one hun dred yards behind, to hasten to join him. Presently the trooper came spurring up,a swarthy young Ger man, but though straining every nerve, the troop was still a mile away. "Ride back, Wegner, and tell the sergeant to take ten men around that side-—the south side of the bluff," and he pointed with his hand; "the rest to come straight to me." Oh, well was it for Dean that he checked his speed, and as the young dragoon went sputtering back, that he himself drew rein anil waited for the coming of his men. Suddenly from far out along the ridge in front, from the very crest, there leaped a jot or two of lire and smoke. Two litfle spurts of dust and turf flew up from the prairie sod a dozen yards in front, a rilie bullet went singing off through the sunny air, Rabb, his handsome bay, pawed the ground and switched about, and up on the crest, riding boldly in full view, two lithe, naked, painted warriors, war bonnets trailing over their ponies' croups, yelling shrill insult and derision, went tearing away northward, one cf them pausing long enough to wave some ragged object on high and give out ringing, exultant whoop ere he disappeared from view, "It's a scalp, lieutenant," shouted the foremost sergeant as he came up to join his chief. "They've got one, anyhow." "Come on, then, and we'll get it back," was the only answer, as with nearly thirty troopers stringing out behind them, the two launched out in chase. [To Be Continued ] QUIETED THE INDIANS. Dlakop Whipple'* Method of Sub duing Ucfmctory nnd Ile bi'lllouN llraveN. Most interesting is Bishop Whipple's account of the manner in which he once prevented an Indian outbreak, says 11. B. Merwin, in Atlantic. "Courteousness of speech," he says, "is a marked characteristic of the In dian. It is an act of great rudeness to interrupt another, and the last words of every speech are: 'I have done.' Knowledge of this fact once enabled me to settle a serious difficul ty. The Indians at Leech Lake had heard—as was the fact —that the gov ernment had sold all their pine with out their knowledge and consent." All uprising was imminent, and the Indians had already killed tne govern ment cattle. Bishop) Whipple was re quested by the president togo to Leech Lake and negotiate with the In dians. "It was in the dead of winter, the thermometer below zero, and the snow deep. It was a journey of 75 miles through the forest, and it took us three days to reach the lake. The Indians came to their council in paint and feathers, angry anil turbulent." Flatmoutli, their chief, made a violent speech, to which fire bishop replied briefly, as follows: "I shall tell you the truth. It will not be pleasant to ifry red brother. When you killed those cattle, you struck the Great Father in the face. When you stole those goods, you cf*i|imitted a crime. I am not here to tell you what the Great Father will do. He lias not told me. If he does what he ought to do, he will arrest those who have com mitted this crime, if it takes 10,000 men." "As I expected," the bishop relates, "She chief was very angry, and, springing to his feet, began to talk violently. I folded my arms and sat down. When he paused, I said quiet ly: 'Flatmoutli, are you talking, or am T talking? If you are talking, I will wait till you Wave finished; if I am talking, you may wait till I have finished.' The Indians all shouted: 'IIo! ho!' Their chief had committed a great breach of courtesy toward me, their friend. "Overwhelmed with confusion, Flat mouth sat down, and I knew that the ground was mine. I then told them that when I heard > of the pine sale I wrote to Washington and protested against it; that I went to the man who bought the pine, and told him that I should oppose the sale and car ry the matter into the courts." Got wlint lie Ajtkcd For. "So you are looking for a position," said the merchant to the youth with high collar and noisy necktie. "What can you do?" "Oh, any old thing," replied the young man."Of I don't exjieet the junior partnership at the start, but I want to be sure of an early rite." "Very well," replied the merchant, "I'll make you assistant janitor. You will rise at four o'clock every morning and sweep the floors." Collier's Weekly. Uiji Ambition Crushed. Weary Wraggles—Why so sad, Lone some? Lonesome Samy—Dis paper a man wot's born in a foreign coutitry can't never be president of de United States. "Well, what of it?" "Bat wtiz de one job I've alius be'n lookin' for'ard ter!"—N. Y. World. Evidence of Advancing Year*. Jones —I must be getting old. Smith—Legs getting stiff, or eyes getting bad? Jones —No; but I'm beginning to like to read statistics.—Chicago Rec ord. A WINDOW BOOKCASE. Oriui iih* nln 1 Piece of Furniture Thill Can He Made