Wild Bill's Last Trail, Ned Buntline [best pdf ebook reader TXT] 📗

are desperadoes, but a man can be a desperado, and yet not an outlaw. If to be always ready to shoot for a look or a word–whether his opponent is ready or not–is not being a desperado. I do not know what is. But excuse me. He may be a friend of yours."

"Oh, no," said Pond, with some confusion in his manner. "But a very dear friend of mine married him not long since, and for her sake I feel a sort of interest in the man. I fancied that he was rather wild when under the influence of liquor, but for all, a brave and generous man, when truly himself."

"Brave, as brutes are, when he feels he has the power to kill in his hands; but generous? Never!" said Miss Neidic.

"You are his enemy."

"No; for he has never done me, personally, an injury; but he has injured friends of mine–sent more than one down to untimely graves."

"There, I said it–you are his enemy, because of what he has done to your friends.

"I am not his friend, nor do I wish to be the friend of such a man. But the enmity of a woman is nothing to him. He looks for friends among such men as he now consorts with–California Joe, Sam Chichester, and that crowd. I know but one real gentleman in the party, and that one is Jack Crawford."

"I know none of them."

"You lose nothing, then, for it is little honor one gains by such acquaintances. They suit Wild Bill, for they drink, gamble, and shoot on little cause; they are ready for any adventure, never stopping to count risks or look back when evil is commenced or ruin wrought, no matter what may be its nature."

The entrance of the young Texans now caused a change in the topic of conversation.

"I have learned when that party start." he said. "They are making their final preparations to-night, and will break camp in this morning early enough to make Twenty-mills Creek for their first night's halt–probably about ten o'clock."

"Do you propose to go ahead of them?" asked Pond.

"No; it will be more easy and safe to fellow their trail. They will not have over fifty animals all told, and there will be lots of feed left for us even if we keep close by. And we can get as much game as we need any time, for we can use but little. One pack horse will carry all our stuff, and still be able to travel at speed, if need be."

"You understand it better than I," said Pond. "Arrange things to suit yourself, and I will conform to your plans."

"All right. You had better turn in early, so as to get a good rest. For after we are out, long rides and night-watches will tell on you, for you are not used to them."

"I will show you to a chamber, your valise is already in it," said Miss Neidic.

Mr. Pond followed her, and the Texan was left alone to his thoughts, which he carelessly expressed aloud.

"So far all works well," he said. "Mr. Willie Pond is as soft as mush; but I've read him through and through. He wouldn't go with me if he didn't think he'd have a chance to serve Wild Bill, for, though he shuns Bill, he thinks more of Bill than he would have me think, I'll bet Addie has found that out."

"Found out what?" said the lady herself, who had returned so noiselessly that Jack had not heard her.

"That Mr. Pond, as he calls himself, is a friend of Wild Bill's."

"All of that, and maybe something more, as you may find out before you are through your trip."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing but this–keep your eyes open, and study your Mr. Pond closely."

"There is nothing dangerous about him?"

Miss Neidic laughed heartily.

"Nothing very dangerous to you, at any rate," she said; "but if they all go in the morning, we must see Persimmon Bill to-night."

"That is so. Shall I bring the horses round?"

"No. We might be overheard. I will go to the stables. Get the horses ready. I have some things to put up for Bill, and I will come as soon as I pack them in a pair of saddle-bags."

Jack now left for the stable, and Miss Neidic, with a woman's forethought, began to gather up many little things which might be useful to her outlaw lover, who had little chance to procure articles of comfort, not to speak of luxury, except when on some raid in the settlements.

In ten minutes she was ready and on her way to the stables.

Jack had her own favorite horse saddled, while for himself he chose the Black Hawk beauty.

In a few seconds both were mounted, and in the darkness they sped away over the same route which Jack had taken when he went to visit Persimmon Bill.

Little was said as they rode on, for the horses were kept at a swift gallop, and before the hour was up they had approached the ravine as near as they deemed safe before giving the signal.

Scarcely was it given before it was answered, and a second later Persimmon Bill himself was by the side of Addie Neidic's horse, and she was pressed to the outlaw's bosom with a fervor that showed he had a heart more than half-human left in his breast.

"It's kind of you, Addie, to come out here in the chill of the night to see a wild cuss like me, outlawed by man, and forsaken by Heaven!"

"It's safer to come by night than by day, for you and for me, Bill," she said. "And I couldn't bear you should go away again till I had seen you. And I've brought you a lot of things I know you'll need."

"I shall not need much of anything, Addie, on the trail I'm soon to take. Your friend here I know is safe, or I wouldn't say so much. But the truth is, the reds are going to rise in a body all over the north and northwest, and we'll sweep the Black Hills, and clean out every 'blue-coat' that is sent to check the rising. The Sioux have made me a big chief, and I'll have my hands full. If you hear of the 'White Elk,' as second only to Sitting Bull himself, you'll know who it is."

"You, of course!"

"Yes, Addie; that is the name they have given me. And if the Sioux fight as I think they will, and all the northern tribes join, we'll force a treaty that will give us all the Black Hills and the Yellowstone, Powder River, and Big Horn Country for ourselves forever. Then, my girl, and not till then, can I make a safe home for you, and not till then will I ask you to be my wife. For then the outlaw will be safe, and can live in peace, and look for days of home and happiness."

"Bill, when you ask it, be it in peace or war, I am yours. You are brave as the bravest, and had you never been treated wrongfully, would not now be a hunted outlaw. I love you, and you know it."

"Yes, Addie, and I love you too well to ask you to share my lot till I can see some sunshine. But this stranger has news for me."

Persimmon Bill turned to the Texan, who had drawn his horse away a little, so as not to intrude on the conversation between the lovers.

"I have the news you asked for," said Jack. "The party, all told, who will start at nine or ten in the morning, and camp twenty miles out to-morrow, number twenty-nine men, all well armed, the most of them with repeating rifles and six-shooters. Half of them are old scouts, the rest are miners, gamblers, and a couple of them are traders. They have fifty animals, saddle and pack, and carry no wagons. The mules are loaded pretty heavy, at least them that belong to the traders, and are well worth capture."

"All right, And there is one of the party you don't want hurt until he is in your hands?"

"Yes, that man is Wild Bill. I want him in my power so that I may see him die slowly, surely, awfully!"

"There is another man in that party, Bill, who mustn't be hurt. He did me a kindness once, down at Cheyenne–saved me from insult and wrong. His name is Crawford–Captain Jack, they call him!"

"Yes, I know him. No harm shall befall him, if I can help it."

"Thank you, Bill; you needn't be jealous of him, for it is only what he did that makes me ask a favor for him!"

"I know it, Addie."

"No woman on earth can make me jealous of you. I've too much confidence in your truth and love. But you'll not attack the party anywhere near here?"

"No, not till they are far beyond all the military posts. I want no pursuit when I do my work. Our animals are in good order for the war-path now, and I want to keep them so. I'm drilling my braves at every chance, so as to fit them to meet such men as Crook, Custer, and Carr. All they want is drill and discipline to make them the best soldiers in the world, and they're coming into it finely."

"Well, you were a soldier yourself long enough to know all that should be done."

"A soldier too long, girl–too long a slave to men who held authority only to abuse it," said Bill, in a bitter tone. "The cruelty exercised on me then turned my best blood to gall, and made me what I am. I hate the name, and my blood boils beyond all restraint when my eye falls upon a uniform. Rightly have the Sioux called me the "Soldier Killer," for never do I let one who wears the button escape if he comes within my reach. But you must not stay too long. Good-night–I will not say good-by, for we will meet again."

"Good-night, Bill."

"One word to your friend here," added the outlaw. "Follow the trail of Chichester, about three hours back, whenever he moves. I will probably, for three or four days, be about as far behind you. On the night of the third or fourth day out, or, if it is bad weather for travel, a day or two later, I will surround you, and take you and your friend prisoners, to all appearances. But of course no harm will come to you, and you will be free when the other work is done. Then I will close up and wipe out Chichester's gang, saving the two who are to be spared. Then I will be ready for the war-path, for I need the arms and ammunition these people have to finish arming the drilled marines who are specially under me."

"All right, sir; we understand each other," said the Texan, wheeling his horse to take the back trail.

Addie Neidic, as if from some uncontrollable reason, turned once more toward her lover, and bending from her saddle, threw her arms about his tall and splendid form, and kissed him again and again with passionate tenderness.

"Do be careful of your life, dear Bill," she said. "You are all in all to me. If you perish, life will be valueless to me."

"Addie, I'll try to live for your sake, and work my uttermost to achieve what will give you and me peace and quiet in the end. Good-night, once more good-night, my beautiful, my own."

"Good night, Bill–God bless you!" she sobbed; as she turned her horse, and followed the Texan at a gallop.

CHAPTER VIII.
FOILED BY A WOMAN.

It was their last night in town before breaking up camp, and the Black Hillers, as they already called themselves, under Chichester, were determined to have a lively time of it.

They commenced "wetting up," or pouring down liquid lightning in camp, but, being reminded that what they used there would be missed on their journey, they started to