CONCLUSION.
Leonidas Swipes continued dancing, shouting and gesticulating like a
madman. He threw his hat in air, and, as it came down stamped upon it,
turned summerset, hooted like an Indian, and finally shouted to the
upturned faces below him.
“By jingo! just come up here! Did you ever see such a sight! Ki ’yi!”
and he executed another double shuffle as a vent to his superabundant
glee.
Fred Wainwright finally accepted the invitation and clambered up beside
him.
“Just look off there!” shouted the Yankee, before the man has fairly
reached him, “aint that enough to make your eyes sparkle? I swan! Ki
’yi!”
The next moment, the young hunter saw that the fellow had good cause for
his unusual excitement; for there, right below him, were resting the
five thousand and odd sheep, which the Comanches had taken so
unceremoniously from him a few days before. Their multitudinous
_baaing_, made it a source of wonder that their proximity had not been
suspected ere this.
It was yet early in the morning, and the sheep were resting from the
severe marching to which they had been subjected. The Indians could be
seen, scattered here and there on the outer confines of the immense
drove, where any stampede would be sure instantly to arouse them. Here
they were slumbering, their faithful animals cropping the grass close
beside them, where they could be reached in a second’s call.
One Comanche had just risen, and stood leaning against his horse, and
appeared to be yawning and gaping. As there was imminent danger of
Swipes being seen, Fred pushed him down from his perch.
“You want to alarm them, do you, and have them all get away, not that
you have a chance to recover your property?”
“Well, I swan it makes a feller feel so good that it don’t make much
difference whether I get ’em back agin or not.”
“Little good will it do you, then. Let’s go down again and have
consultations with Ward, and decide upon our means of recapturing them.”
“But won’t they give us the slip while we’re talking?”
“Not much.”
“I guess I’ll stay here and watch while you go down and make the
arrangements. Be as quick as you can.”
“Come along; you’ll get to dancing and hooting again and alarm the whole
country, so don’t wait.”
The prospect of recapturing the entire herd of sheep was too tempting to
pass by. When a man sees an opportunity of recovering a fortune lost, is
he apt to shut his eyes and turn his back upon it? Not much.
The arrangements were soon made. Ward Lancaster, Fred Wainwright and
four of the best mounted men dismounted and led their horses up the
ridge, and as carefully descended on the opposite side. Here they
remounted, consulted a few moments, and then with a series of resounding
whoops, dashed around the southern side of the drove, firing their guns
at the Comanches at the same time.
The latter comprehending that the game was up, vaulted upon their
mustangs and sped away like an arrow over the prairie, firing as they
rode. In a few minutes, the entire body of sheep was in motion to the
northward. They kept along the western side of the ridge, while Florence
Brandon and her friends followed the eastern slope, both parties
instantly remaining within call of each other.
In the afternoon of the same day, the entire company united with the
emigrant train and the march westward was resumed.
Messrs. Swipes, Bircham and Doolittle with the occasional assistance of
the others kept the sheep drove in motion losing a very slight per cent.
When the point was reached where they were to divide, they met a party
from Sacramento who were going east to purchase sheep and cattle. They
had an abundance of funds, and, after considerable bantering, they took
the entire flock off of Swipe’s hands, giving him thirty thousand
dollars.
The Yankee divided the money as he had agreed, with his companions, and
compelled Lancaster and several others to take quite a handsome present.
“And now,” said he, as the three set their faces toward San Francisco,
“I’m going hum.”
“But how about the Fort Mifflin Institute for the Education of the
Youths of both Sexes?” inquired Fred Wainwright.
“Fort Mifflin Institute be hanged. I’m going hum to buy Deacon Popkin’s
farm and settle down with Araminta.”
And home he went.
It was a beautiful day in spring time some years ago, and the emigrant
train was proceeding leisurely through Southern California. It was
within a few days of its destination. A few hundred yards in the rear of
the company, a lady and gentleman were riding, their horses walking
closely together, while the riders conversed in those slow sweet tones,
so unceremoniously by persons under such circumstances. They were our
old acquaintances, Fred Wainwright and Florence Brandon. There was a
peculiar smile on the face of the latter, as she said, after a moment’s
lull in the conversation.
“Do you suppose Mr. Fred Wainwright, that I do not know who you are?”
He looked inquiringly at her.
“What do you mean?”
“You are Mr. Frederick Ashland, of Missouri.”
“Florence! Florence, who has betrayed me?”
“No one, but yourself, on the night you so nobly rescued me from the
Apaches. I penetrated your disguise.”
“Why didn’t you let me know it?”
“I thought I would wait and see your object in thus remaining INCOGNITO;
but I can’t divine your meaning, as I thought I would let you know that
I generally keep my eyes shut. Mr. Frederick Ashland, what is the cause
of this?”
“You.”
“Please explain.”
“You know after we were engaged, I called several times to see you, and
was told you were out. I felt hurt very much at this, as I knew it was
untrue. Finally, when I concluded to go to California, I made up my mind
I would call and bid you good bye, your aunt, Miss Sillingsby told me
you positively refused to see me, and I received a note which I had sent
unopened. This was the last drop in the bucket and I left you, resolved
never to look on you again, and I should never have done so until we
were so strangely brought together, and I believed you did not suspect
my identity.”
Whereupon Florence told how she had been deceived; that Miss Sillingsby
had taken a fancy to a rich old crusty bachelor, and resolved that
Florence should marry him. She had started the false message between the
two, and finally succeeded in making both believe that the other had
committed the transgression, and hopelessly estranged them.
But now all was made right—and well, we have nothing more to say. Our
readers can fill in the minor details of a little scene at Fort Mifflin
a few months later, when Miss Sillingsby had the chagrin and the others
the exquisite pleasure of seeing our hero and heroine made happy in each
other’s love.
THE END.
DIME POCKET NOVELS.
PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY.
1—Hawkeye Harry. By Oll Coomes.
2—Dead Shot. By Albert W. Aiken.
3—The Boy Miners. By Edward S. Ellis.
4—Blue Dick. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
5—Nat Wolfe. By Mrs. M. V. Victor.
6—The White Tracker. By Edward S. Ellis.
7—The Outlaw’s Wife. By Mrs. Ann S. Stephens.
8—The Tall Trapper. By Albert W. Aiken.
9—Lightning Jo. By Capt. Adams.
10—The Island Pirate. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
11—The Boy Ranger. By Oll Coomes.
12—Bess, the Trapper. By E. S. Ellis.
13—The French Spy. By W. J. Hamilton.
14—Long Shot. By Capt. Comstock.
15—The Gunmaker. By James L. Bowen.
16—Red Hand. By A. G. Piper.
17—Ben, the Trapper. By Lewis W. Carson.
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21—Wild Nat. By Wm. R. Eyster.
22—Indian Jo. By Lewis W. Carson.
23—Old Kent, the Ranger. By Edward S. Ellis.
24—The One-Eyed Trapper. By Capt. Comstock.
25—Godbold, the Spy. By N. C. Iron.
26—The Black Ship. By John S. Warner.
27—Single Eye. By Warren St. John.
28—Indian Jim. By Edward S. Ellis.
29—The Scout. By Warren St. John.
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38—The Heart Eater. By Harry Hazard.
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40—The Huge Hunter. By Ed. S. Ellis.
41—Wild Nat, the Trapper. By Paul Prescott.
42—Lynx-cap. By Paul Bibbs.
43—The White Outlaw. By Harry Hazard.
44—The Dog Trailer. By Frederick Dewey.
45—The Elk King. By Capt. Chas. Howard.
46—Adrian, the Pilot. By Col. P. Ingraham.
47—The Man-hunter. By Maro O. Rolfe.
48—The Phantom Tracker. By F. Dewey.
49—Moccasin Bill. By Paul Bibbs.
50—The Wolf Queen. By Charles Howard.
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52—The Mad Chief. By Chas. Howard.
53—The Black Wolf. By Edwin E. Ewing.
54—Arkansas Jack. By Harry Hazard.
55—Blackbeard. By Paul Bibbs.
56—The River Rifles. By Billex Muller.
57—Hunter Ham. By J. Edgar Iliff.
58—Cloudwood. By J. M. Merrill.
59—The Texas Hawks. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
60—Merciless Mat. By Capt. Chas. Howard.
61—Mad Anthony’s Scouts. By E. Redman.
62—The Luckless Trapper. By Wm. R. Eyster.
63—The Florida Scout. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
64—The Island Trapper. By Capt. Chas. Howard.
65—Wolf-Cap. By Capt. Chas. Howard.
66—Rattling Dick. By Harry Hazard.
67—Sharp-Eye. By Major Max Martine.
68—Iron-Hand. By Frederick Forest.
69—The Yellow Hunter. By Chas. Howard.
70—The Phantom Rider. By Maro O. Rolfe.
71—Delaware Tom. By Harry Hazard.
72—Silver Rifle. By Capt. Chas. Howard.
73—The Skeleton Scout. By Maj. L. W. Carson.
74—Little Rifle. By Capt. “Bruin” Adams.
75—The Wood Witch. By Edwin Emerson.
76—Old Ruff, the Trapper. By “Bruin” Adams.
77—The Scarlet Shoulders. By Harry Hazard.
78—The Border Rifleman. By L. W. Carson.
79—Outlaw Jack. By Harry Hazard.
80—Tiger-Tail, the Seminole. By R. Ringwood.
81—Death-Dealer. By Arthur L. Meserve.
82—Kenton, the Ranger. By Chas. Howard.
83—The Specter Horseman. By Frank Dewey.
84—The Three Trappers. By Seelin Robins.
85—Kaleolah. By T. Benton Shields, U. S. N.
86—The Hunter Hercules. By Harry St. George.
87—Phil Hunter. By Capt. Chas. Howard.
88—The Indian Scout. By Harry Hazard.
89—The Girl Avenger. By Chas. Howard.
90—The Red Hermitess. By Paul Bibbs.
91—Star-Face, the Slayer.
92—The Antelope Boy. By Geo. L. Aiken.
93—The Phantom Hunter. By E. Emerson.
94—Tom Pintle, the Pilot. By M. Klapp.
95—The Red Wizard. By Ned Hunter.
96—The Rival Trappers. By L. W. Carson.
97—The Squaw Spy. By Capt. Chas. Howard.
98—Dusky Dick. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
99—Colonel Crockett. By Chas. E. Lasalle.
100—Old Bear Paw. By Major Max Martine.
101—Redlaw. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
102—Wild Rube. By W. J. Hamilton.
103—The Indian Hunters. By J. L. Bowen.
104—Scarred Eagle. By Andrew Dearborn.
105—Nick Doyle. By P. Hamilton Myers.
106—The Indian Spy. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
107—Job Dean. By Ingoldsby North.
108—The Wood King. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
109—The Scalped Hunter. By Harry Hazard.
110—Nick, the Scout. By W. J. Hamilton.
111—The Texas Tiger. By Edward Willett.
112—The Crossed Knives. By Hamilton.
113—Tiger-Heart, the Tracker. By Howard.
114—The Masked Avenger. By Ingraham.
115—The Pearl Pirates. By Starbuck.
116—Black Panther. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
117—Abdiel, the Avenger. By Ed. Willett.
118—Cato, the Creeper. By Fred. Dewey.
119—Two-Handed Mat. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
120—Mad Trail Hunter. By Harry Hazard.
121—Black Nick. By Frederick Whittaker.
122—Kit Bird. By W. J. Hamilton.
123—The Specter Riders. By Geo. Gleason.
124—Giant Pete. By W. J. Hamilton.
125—The Girl Captain. By Jos. E. Badger.
126—Yankee Eph. By J. R. Worcester.
127—Silverspur. By Edward Willett.
128—Squatter Dick. By Jos. E. Badger.
129—The Child Spy. By George Gleason.
130—Mink Coat. By Jos. E. Badger.
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131—Red Plume. By J. Stanley Henderson.
132—Clyde, the Trailer. By Maro O. Rolfe.
133—The Lost Cache. By J. Stanley Henderson.
134—The Cannibal Chief. By Paul J. Prescott.
135—Karaibo. By J. Stanley Henderson. Ready
136—Scarlet Moccasin. By Paul Bibbs. Ready
137—Kidnapped. By J. Stanley Henderson. Ready September 23d.
138—The Maid of the Mountain. By W. J. Hamilton. Ready Oct. 7th.
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Transcriber’s Notes
—Silently corrected a few typos.
—Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook
is public-domain in the country of publication.
—In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by
_underscores_.
—Created a Table of Contents based on the chapter headings.