The Mysterious Rider

fering employment. This was a little cadaverous-looking fellow, apparently neither young nor ol

ng how Wade cared for his horses before he th

some miners an' I panned gold

a better-payin' job than

y there," said W

you le

upon Wade sat down on a box, removed his old sombrero, and began to talk. An idler saun

, came and listened attentively. Wade seemed

h drops of sweat standing out on the high, broad forehead; gaunt and hollow-cheeked, with an enormous nose, and cavernous eyes set deep under shaggy brows. These features, however, were not so striking in themselves. L

seemed to relieve him. His face changed, and lost what mig

ado, but this one was exceptional. Two of the group left without commen

do beat hell what can happen!... Strange

for work,"

was made of Belllounds se

e Park an' made friends with the Utes,"

ill to rights. D

once twent

Belllounds owns ranches t

mp. "He's at White Slides, I reckon, these last

through that cou

an' stock country--too high fer grain. D

with his great, cavernous eyes into spac

don't. An' I say if you can cook or pack or punch cows or 'most anythin' you'll find a bunk with

tly, as he inclined his ea

ith dogs an' guns?" s

le," rep

're sure

Much oblig

llounds a favor. Reckon yo

uy feed an' supplies," replied

ry sadly failing him. An hour later when Bent Wade rode out of town he passed Kemp, and h

py excitement to his friend the inn

me," returne

never hear of

I can't remember. I knowed he was somebody, though. Hope I didn'

e most amazin' ways. He could do anythin' under the sun better'n any one else. Bad with guns! He never stayed in one place fer long. He never hunted trouble, but trouble follered him. As I remember Coles, thet was Wade's queer idee--he couldn't shake trouble. No matter whar he went, always thar was hell. Thet's what gave him the name Hell-Bent.... An' Coles swore thet Wade was the whitest man he ever knew. Heart of gold, he said. Always savin' somebody, helpin' s

en groves, swelled up on his left, and across the brawling stream rose a league-long slope of black spruce, above which the bare red-and-gray walls of the r

grazed in an inclosed pasture. The trail led by the cabin. As Wade rode up a bushy-haired man came out of the door, r

tranger!"

Reckon you're Blair an' I'm nig

f three miles to

ckin' over to take a jo

urned Blair. "Bill's man st

ded Wade. "Do you happen to have a hunk of deer m

ed a bunch of more 'n thirty, I reckon,

and returned with half a deer haunch

n'. Do you happen to

n', an' I can spare more chewin'.

ost chewin'," replied Blair

lounds?" asked Wade, as h

Bill. You'd never find a

e any

r. "I heerd he lost a wife years ago. Mebbe

air," said Wade, and

ht-hand trail. Better trot up a bit,

g white and amber around their knees, and then with splash and thump they forded it over the slippery rocks. As t

. "First birds I've seen this fall

t, but with his eyes on the grouse he hesitate

r's ears. It receded at times, then grew louder. Presently the forest shade ahead lightened and he rode out into a wide space where green moss and flags and flowers surrounded a wonderful spring-hole. Sunset gleams shone through the trees to color the wide, round pool. It was shallow all along the

d fanned his cheeks and the sweet tang of evergreen tingled his no

d man. Perhaps the consciousness h

ashes where the myriads of trout were rising. The trail led out over open grassy shores, with a few pines straggling down to the lake, and clumps of spruces raising dark blurs against the background of gleaming lake. Wade heard a sharp crack of hoofs on rock, and he kn

-tree. Then he opened his oxhide-covered packs and laid out utensils and bags, little and big. All his movements were methodical, yet swift, accurate, habitual. He was not thinking about what he was doing. It t

and put water on to boil. He broiled his meat on the hot, red coals, and laid it near on clean pine chips, while he waited for bread to bake and coffee to boil. The smell of wood-smoke

His rifle was a Henry--shiny and smooth from long service and care. His small gun was a Colt's 45. It had been carried in a saddle holster. Wade rubbed the rifle with his hands, and then with a greasy rag which he took from the sheath. After that he held the rifle to the heat of the fire. A squall of rain had ove

on the soft mat of needles. On top of that came the two woolly sheepskins, which

ed. The silence of the wilderness enfolded lake and shore; yet presently it came to be a silence accentuated by near and distant sounds, f

through the red embers. "That will suit me an' change my luck, likely. Livin' in the woods, away from peop

ith her baby girl. Never had he rested beside a camp-fire that that old agony did not recur! Jealous fool! Too late he had discovered his fatal blunder; and then had begun a sea

Bent Wade

r his wandering feet. The wildness of men and the passion of women somehow waited with incredible fatality for that hour when chance led him into their lives. He had toiled, he had given, he had fought, he had sacrificed, he had killed, he had

his memory held a fixed and changeless picture of a woman, fair a

ow--if she'd lived," he said. "A big girl, I reckon, like he

t, so that no sparks blew into the blackness, and the red embers glowed and paled and crackled. Wade at length got up and made ready for bed. He threw back tarpaulin and blankets, and laid his rifle alongside

West, this sleeping alone in wild places held both charm and peril. But the

oaned louder as the night advanced. By and by the horses rested from their grazing; the insects ceased to hum; and

is horses up a zigzag trail that bore the tracks of recent travelers. Although this country was sparsely settled, yet ther

elevation exceeded eleven thousand feet. A whipping wind swept across the plain-land. The sun was pale-bright in the east, slowly being obscured by gray clouds. Snow began to fall, first in scudding, scanty flakes, but increasing until the air was full of a great, fleecy swirl. Wade rode along the rim of a mountain wall, watching a beautiful snow-storm fal

our, when he was half down the slope, the forest had become warm and dry, fragrant and still. At length he rode out upon the brow of a last wooded bench above a grassy valley, where a bright, winding stream glea

columbines waved their graceful, sweet, pale-blue flowers that Wade felt a joy in seeing. He loved flowers--columbines, the glory of Colorado, came first, and next the many-hued purple asters, and then the

er at his work--or listen to the bugle of an elk!" mused Bent Wade. He wondered

fternoon Wade reached Elgeria, a small hamlet, but important by reason of its being on the main stage line, and because here miners and cattlemen bought supplies. It had one street, so wide it appeared to be a square, on which

ke rather than from considerations of possible profit. Though Wade had never before visited Elgeria, he soon knew all

ked Wade. "I saw that. An

husband was alive, before our competitor come to town. He runs a hotel where miner

the othe

ot his real name. I've had people

heir names,"

u packin' through

ch, where I'm goin' to work fo

there several years. My husband had stock there. In fact, Bill started us in the cattle busi

od word for Belllou

oman, with cheerful warmth. "Bill never had

t wa

y somewhere. The boy was spoiled. I saw his mother years ago--she's dead this long time--an' she was no wife fer Bill Belllounds. Jack took

ad, as if he understood, and wa

the onl

e was a baby. An' Jack's mother hated this child--jealous, we use

girl's name?

y. Wal, the lass's the prettiest I ever seen in Colorado, an' as good as she's pretty. Old Bill hinted to me he'd likely make a match between her an' his son Jack. An' I ups an' told him,

ounds," mused Wa

n't you know the flower? It's common in these pa

lin' when Belllounds adop

baby was found by gold-diggers up in the mountains. Must have got lost from a wagon-train thet Indi

ueried Wade, with a sin

's around

hat. The amiable innkeeper did not see the tremor that passed over him, nor the slight stiffeni

eover, he had never yet been able to draw away from the fascination of this knowledge. It lured him on. Always his decision had been to go on, to meet this boding circumstance, or to remain and meet it, in the hope that he might take some one's burden upon his shoulders. He sensed it now, in the keen, poignant clairvoyance of the moment--the tangle of life that he was about to enter. Old Bill Belllounds, big and fine, victim of love for a wayward son; Buster Jack, the waster, the tearer-down, the destroyer, the wild youth at a wild time; Columbine, the girl of unknown birth, good and loyal, subject to a condition sure to ruin her.

he whispered. "I'll

t at the door till he could have a look at the man Smith. Somewhere, at some time, Wade had met most of the veterans of western Colorado. So much he had traveled! But the impulse that held him was answered and explained when Smith came in--a burly man, with an

not now the kind of man who hunted old enemies for revenge or who went to great lengths to keep out of their way.

was of a color that made rock and sand and moss seem like gold. He saw no signs or tracks of game. A gray jay now and then screeched his approach to unseen denizens of the woods. The stream babbled past him over mossy ledges, under the dark shade of clumps of spruces, and it grew smaller as he progressed toward its sourc

resh tracks crossing the trail. Slipping along ahead of his horses, that followed, him almost too closely to per

ting peninsulas of forest to find the park spreading wider in that direction. He saw horses grazing with elk, and far down at the notch, where evidently the park had outlet in a narrow valley, he espied the black, hump-shaped, shaggy forms of buffalo. They bobbed off out of sight. Then the elk saw or scented him, and they trotted away, the antlered bulls ahead of the cows. Wade wondered if

pass near the island of pines. Wade saw unmistakable signs of prospecting along

pector at his evening meal. As he rode up a dog ran out of the cabin, barking furiously. A man, dressed in fringed buckskin, followed. He was tall, and had long, iron-gray hair over his s

distant. His greeting was not welcome, but it was civil. H

eplied Wade. "Might

e other. "I calkilate I never

on my way to White Slide

lounds. My name's Lewis. I was jest cookin' grub. An' it'll bu

, and he was hungry. The cabin had been built years ago, and was a ramshackle shelter at best. The st

bserved Wade, with much satisfaction. "

hunted much. Thar's lots of elk an' herds of deer. After a little snow

enjoyed that meal. Later, while he helped h

y deer then there'

not long ago. Missed him. But I reckon thar's more varmi

call it that?" asked W

s been tryin' to hire a hunter. Offered me

job I'm go

ar. I felt sort of cheap till I told him I wasn't really a hunter.

e that bluff for

ho'd ever prospected for gol

'd just as lief they didn't see me diggin' gold. Lately I've had a hunch they're rustli

there's sure to be some

I'm wrong. An' if I found out I was right I'd go down to W

des?" asked Wade, wit

ne day, easy. Beautiful country. Open, big peaks an'

r see Belllo

The gal--Columbine, she's called--doctored me up. Fact is, I owe considerable to thet White Slides Ranch. There's a cowboy, Wils somethin', who rode up h

ut a strange laugh, significant with

thet?" demanded Lewi

owboy bein' sweet on the girl popped into my head before you to

l to light his pipe, and as he raised his head

of you," he said, as his

An' I want a look at them neighbors you spoke of tha