t9OOXOQ0OO0O0OOO0XX0XX
II
COMING to take the agency at Lakotah Indian reservation follow
ing the murder of Agent Nogen, Capt. Floyd Hardy, U. S. A.,
rescues a quarterbreed girl and two men from attacking Indians.
They are Jacques Dupont, post trader, his daughter Marie, and Regi
nald Vandervyn, agency clerk and nephew of Senator Clenuner.
Hardy learns that Vandervyn had been promised the agency by his
politician uncle, discovers that the Indians are disaffected because
they have been cheated in a tribal mine which Dupont and Vander
vyn are working illegally, isjTj'.zled when his friendly speech to
tribesmen, Interpreted by Vanuervyn's tool, angers the Indians, and
he determines to find out what's wrong all around and right it. He
becomes smitten with Marie, whom Vandervyn is courting, and pro
poses to her. She holds him off but nurses him tenderly when he
is shot and wounded from a'mbush. Recovered, Captain Hardy, ac
companied by the Duponts, Vandervyn. an interpreter and a few In
dian policemen, starts to the mines in the mountains. What occurs on
that trip makes mighty good reading in this installment.
lUiliiMillluitiilijiHiiih'iiuiil'iii.nnLjiiiiiiiii.'iiii.li.iiiii
CHAPTER X Continued.
6
When Hardy saw the couple ride
ahead, he would have ordered them
back had not Dupont again assured
him that the girl would not be in the
slightest danger at any time during
the trip.
"You were not so certain of the.
friendliness of the Indians toward her
the other day," remarked Hardy.
Dupont scratched his head. 'Well,
no, I wasn't. Cap; that's no lie. That
there, though, was diff'rent. I'm going
now by what Mr. Van says about the
feeling in the camps. Wisht I felt as
sure about you."
"Never mind about me. If your
daughter is safe, that is quite suffi
cient. You say this mine is centrally
located with relation to the various
camps. We will go to it first and en
deavor to get the tribe to meet us there
In council."
"At the mine?1 mumbled Dupont.
"We-e-11, you're the boss."
The party now entered Sioux Creek
canyon and followed the narrow path
alongside the torrent until they came
to the first small Indian camp. The
Indians met Marie and Vand,rvyn
with friendly greetings, but looked at
Hardy with a stolid concealment of
ill feeling that, according to Dwwtfit,
boded ill for the new agent';
tion In the larger camps.
his jaw, and ordered the part;
on into the mountains.
Noon found the party ovei
miles from the agency by trail,
less than half that distance
line. They had come upon n
dian camps and had seen n
dians. Late afternoon found
in among the mountains,
peaks on every side. Yel
still a long ten miles b;
their destination. Upon
Dupont that there ws1
camp-site nearer than
asked his companio;
and urge all to a
The rest of the
heap of rock th
ruined castle at
Vandervyn was
out of sight,
came to a full
the tral.-v spd
part of tLr
fact thatJ
advantai
parea-Vith thy
dliot urge th!
ihe ascent.
He paused a momC
If she would make the atter
tarily. She stood motionless.
ted her neck and dropped do
. . ... r., , , St
of the saaaie. ine suuueimes.-xi
bullet that pinged down the mounM
. . J, .1 41, cn.lrlln
Slue anu pabseu uuue me ruuuic
tnstnnt Viefore. 1
v i 1 1 j t - ' ii
hAPn his midhodv. 1 V
The report of the rifle had yet t
reach Hardy's ear when he peered uv
the mare's withers in search of t-.
Though He Saw No Smoke, He Did
Not Lok in Vain.
smoke of the shot. But though he saw
no smoke, he Jid not look in vain.
Above a bowlder, high up la a cleft,
be perceive! a 'Jevilish painted fn
surmounted by a war bonnetf--clanced
sldewayn up the rld'
at Vandervyn. The yoor
naitea nis pony on tne ri
""?-5.rr K,iok down
i I
in
r
s
7
I
F 1
V 1 V.-sA
1
J av ; . ; -i
urr y ay i r
QUARTERBREED
The Story of an Army Officer on an Indian Reservation
By ROBERT AMES BENNET
'NVnt'i'iim'MiiMi'Hii
Hardy waved to him imperatively.
"Go on!" he shouted. "Guard Miss
Dupont. May be more of them. Send
the police around to flank " '.
Vandervyn's pinto leaped out of '.
sight. A shot grazed the mare's with- i
crs. In a flash he flung up his rifle
and fired at the down-peering devilish
face. It vanished as he pressed the
trigger.
Swift as a puma, he sprang around
the mare's head and dashed up the
slope, keeping a large bowlder In line
between himself and his enemy. A bul
let came pinging down over the bowl
der and passed under his upraised
arm. A few seconds more and, safe
behind the huge stone, he slowly edged
his hat above the top. The ancient
ruse drew a shot. Instantly he scram
bled obliquely upward towards another
bowlder. It was a desperate move. A
bullet grazed his thigh as he flung
himself behind the bushes beside the
second bowlder. Hardy waited.
The twilight was fast fading. Still
Hardy waited, his gaze scanning the
cleft and the rocks on either side. It
was time for the police to come creep
ing around on the flank of the assas
sin. A little more and the dusk would
render close shooting difficult. Yet
the precious moments slipped by, and
no sign of the police.
)ver on the far side of the cleft
ere was a faint glint of metal in the
epening shadow. Without a mo-
ent's hesitation Hardy aimed and
red. The mountainside rang with a
ill yell. The bullet had found its
Hardy leaped to his feet and
Qf, up the mountain-side, keeping
shelter where it was available,
places boldly rushing up over
ices.
I on the spot where he had
I glint, he found a trace of
fie wounded man had crept
cleft. For several yards
wed the trail by the splash-
n on the leaves and rocks.
ces ceased. But over in
my clefts on the far side
he thought he saw some-
e among the bowlders. He
wn the slope and across the
face flushed with exertion,
es still cold and hard.
fithe heaps of broken rocks in
hn of the gap Hardy lost sight
t for which he was heading.
tarted to return along what
d to be the passage by
id entered, he soon found
a cul-de-sac. Dusk was
ng into night. He came
a steep ascent between
ledges. This certainly
way by which he had en-
kept to it, eager to es-
ie maze.
fallen when at last he
j of the cleft and clam-
ridge crest. But the sky
the starlight enabled
outlines of the moun
e skyline. A star lower
,of the others caught
ed at it fixedly. The
point of light was
s a fire, two or three
s the intervening val-
his bearings by the
down the niountain-
ird the fire.
,he rocks of the shat-
p, he found the going
Almost from the
sight of the fire ,and
see any trace of the
Off to the left he
rave roar or a moun-
down a ravine to join
in the valley.
e up over the edge of
terrace, on- winch the
le moment his eyes
underbrush below the
'41 es he perceived the
for which he was
11 make out the ap
Irk forms around the
unber and the half
grouped around the
Jtt he had not found the
cauipx,.
lie fcadwt fcre than made thi3 dis
covery when a number of yelping,
snarling mongrel dogs rushed out at
yfci lite a pack of wolves. He met
f "Xnrk hv swinging his rifle bar-
'"'" In a circle. The cowardly
about him, but were afraid
in reatfi of the club. lie
hif advance. Nor did
iesitate when over the
T
I?
1
X
w
j fir
fire
heads of the leaping, yelling pack he
saw the Indian women and children
scurry to the tepees and the bucks
spring up with their bows and guns.
CHAPTER XI.
Light in the Darkness.
Soon Hardy had approached into the
circle of the firelight. Some of the
Indians started to aim their weapons
at him. He held up his right hand,
palm forward. A dorp voice called out
He Faced Them as Coolly and Quiet
ly as If They Were His Own Party.
a guttural order. The threatening
bucks drew apart to right and left and
a naked boy ran forward with a
blazing stick to drive off the dogs.
Hardy calmly advanced to the fire
between the grim and stolid b.ucks.
There was not one among them who
was not itching to drive a bullet or
an arrow through his body, and he
knew it. Yet he faced them as coolly
and quietly as if they were his own
party.
The bucks looked toward the far
side of the fire, as if for the signal to
strike down the audacious intruder.
Hardy followed their glances and per
ceived a blanket-wrapped Indian who
sat in the midst of the volcanic hush
seemingly as placid and immobile as
a Buddha. His face was down-bent,
and so muffled in the blanket that
Hardy could not make out the fea
tures. It was, however, easy to di
vine that the man was the chief of the
band.
Hardy walked around the fire with
his most dignified bearing, sat down
beside the chief and laid his rifle on
t he ground between them. He then
folded his arms and waited, his eyes
fixed on the fire in a calm, unwavering
gaze. There followed a silence of a
full minute's duration. He knew that
it might end at any moment in an at
tack. His hand gripped the hilt of his
pistol on his breast under the edge of
his coat. The bucks stealthily shifted
their positions until they had com
pletely surrounded the unwelcome vis
itor. Hardy sat motionless and gave
no sign that he observed them.
At last, when the suspense had be
come almost unendurable, the chief
muttered a word to the nearest buck.
The man glided back toward the larg
est Vpee. The chief pushed the blan
ket from his head. Hardy slowly
looked aside at him and perceived the
powerful profile of Ti-owa-konza, the
Thunderbolt. lie was to deal with the
head chief of the tribe.
There followed another silence. It
was broken by the tread of licht feet,
and a girl appeared beside the chief.
Hardy caught a glimpse of a gingham
skirt, and glanced quickly up at the
face cf the girl. lie was met by the
frightened gaze of Oinna Redbear.
'Oh !" she murmured. "It is bad !
You oughtn't to've come here, sir.
They don't like you. Mr. Van said he
was going to tell you "
A grunt of disapproval from Ti-owa-konza
cut short the hurried statement.
After a dignified silence the chief
spoke to the girl. She clasped her
hands and interpreted in an anxious
murmur :
"lie says I must be only the tongue
between you aiid him. He says, why
did you lie? Why have you not gone
away, as you said you would?"
Hardy turned and looked direct into
the haughty face of the chief. "Tell
him I did not lie. I did not say I
would go away. I wished to stay and
prove myself the friend of the tribe.
Your brother told the lie to keep the
chiefs from destroying the tribe by
attacking me."
Oinna's interpretation brought gut
tural exclamations from the surround
ing bucks. Hardy was equally un
moved by their ferocious glances and
' the contemptuous rejoinder of Ti-owa-
konza :
"Does the chief of the Longknives
think to destroy a tribe single-handed?"
"No, nor do I wish others to destroy
the tribe," answered Hardy. "I do not
wish the Longknives to come and make
war on the tribe. Yet that is what
(hey will do if I am harmed."
Again Oinna interpreted in her flute
like tones. .This time the chief consid
ered before speaking. Oinna's gold
tinted skin turned a sallow gray. '
"He he says he will fight If you do
not promise to go away 1" she gasped.
Hardy smiled. "Have no fear, Oin
na. He is too great a chief to kill a
guest In his camp. Tell him I came
to the reservation to be a friend to the
tribe. Though I am a chief of the
Longknives. my heart is good toward
his people. It would be foolish of
him to kill or drive away the friend
of his people."
This time Ti-owa-konza gave the in
truder an open stare of contempt. The
surrounding bucks glared more fero
ciously than ever.
"He says you are fork-tongued,"
Oinna translated the reply. "He says,
if you are a friend, why did you say
at the council that you would punish
all the tribe for the killing of Nogen?"
"That is a mistake. I did not say I
would punish the tribe."
Oinna interpreted the answer and
the grim old chief's rejoinder: "The
Longknife's mouth was big at the
agency. Here he is alone in my camp
and his mouth is small."
"I talk as I talked at the agency.
What Ti-owa-konza claims I said about
punishing the tribe is not the truth.
There must have been a mistake in
the Interpretation, or the chiefs did
not hear aright. I had only peace and
friendship in my heart. I said that I
did not blame the killing of Mr. Nogen
on the tribe."
This statement failed to break
Thunderbolt's mask of stolidity,
though some of the other Indians
slightly relaxed their menacing atti
tude. Hardy took off his hat to show
the red scar above his temple, and
spoke again:
"I do not blame the killing of Mr.
Nogen on the tribe; nor do I blame
the tribe for the wrongdoing of the
bad-hearted Indian who shot me in
the head five days ago. The same
man, or another man with a bad heart,
tried to shoot me, after sundown to
day, as I came up the trail over on the
other side of the broken-topped moun
tain." Oinna's interpretation was met by a
guttural "Ugh !" of surprise even from
the chief. He asked shrewdly: "If the
Longknife does not lie, is he not afraid
to be in my camp? It is the nearest
to the trail."
Hardy smiled and held out his open
palm to the chief. "I trust Ti-owa-konza
and his people. There is only
one bad Indian, and even he may come
to feel good in his heart toward me
when he learns that I am the friend of
the tribe."
Still the old chief's face remained
inscrutably Immobile. He pondered,
and at last made another sharp query:
"The Longknife claims that he Is a
friend. Why, then, did he say at the
council that he will do the way Nogen
did and make my people dig stones
and dirt from the big holes, without
giving them any trade goods for their
work?"
Hardy's clear eyes dimmed for a
moment, and then sparkled with com
prehension. He answered with an
earnest sincerity of tone that com
pelled belief:
"I now see that at the council Red
bear mistook much of what I told him
to say, or else, in their anger, Ti-owa-konza
and his subchiefs failed to un
derstand aright the interpretation. The
place where stones are dug is on In
dian ground. It belongs to the tribe.
No white man has any right to make
your people dig stones. If they are
willing to dig, they must be given
trade goods for their work."
The response to this statement was
unmistakable. The moment that Oinna
had interpreted it the last trace of
menace disappeared from the bearing
of the Indians, and even the chief
began to relax. Yet he had still an
other query:
"Did the Longknife say he would
stop the issue to the tribe of all gov
ernment goods and that he would take
away from the tribe, all their lands
and give them to the white men?"
At last the real cause of the failure
of the council was disclosed. Either
intentionally or through stupid blun
dering, Redbear had made the chief's
furious by a twisted interpretation
that had given the exact reverse of
what had been i. it ended. With the
key to the situation in his hands,
Hardy at once began to make clear
what he had tried to tell at the coun
cil. He explained why the issues of
goods would cease the following
spring, and what was meant by an al
lotting of tribal land In severalty. He
added that if there was gold on any
of the reservation land it would be
well for the tribe to sell that part of
what they owned; otherwise bad
white men would, sooner or later,
come in and steal it.
More than half convinced of Har
dy's sincerity, Cough with still a lin
gering suspicion, Tl-owa-konza ex
plained in turn that the tribe was not
only willing to allot the farming land
of the reservation and sell the min
eral land, but a treaty to that effect
i had been agreed upon by the tribe, the
previous year. All that remained to
be done was for the white chiefs at
Washington to agree on the price to
be paid for the mineral land and for
a delegation of tribal chiefs to go to
Washington and put their marks on
the treaty paper.
A question or two from Hardy
brought out the angry complaint that
when Nogen began to dig stones he
told the chiefs there would be no
treaty, and that the tribe must dig
the stones for him, or they would re
ceive no more Issue goods. Chief Van
and Big-mouth (Dupont) had tried to
get Nogen to give trnde goods to the
young men and women who had dug
holes. But Nogen would not allow it.
Then a bad Indian had shot Nogen,
and Van had shot the killer. The tribe
did not blame Chief Van. But they
had felt bad toward Nogen and they
had felt bad toward the new agent be
cause they thought he would do as No
gen had done. Now they would like
the new agent. No Indian would wish
to kill him when it became known
what he intended to do for the tribe.
After the old chief finished this ex
planation, Hardy found himself a wel
come and honored guest in the camp.
At his suggestion Ti-owa-konza readily
agreed to send out runners in the
morning to call a council at the mine
the day after. Hardy, in turn, prom
ised to draw up papers to make smooth
the way of the delegation of chiefs in
Washington.
At a sign from her grandfather, Oin
na now brought food to the guest.
While he ate he talked with her about
her experience in the camp. She told
him joyously that her mother's father
and all his family and band had been
very kind to her and had been hospit
able, though not so kind, to her broth
er. But when nardy casually inquired
whether Redbear had left the camp at
the same time as Vandervyn, the girl's
flow of conversation came to an abrupt
stop. She blushed and stammered and
became so painfully shy and confused
that Hardy considerately feigned
drowsiness.
CHAPTER XII.
His Duty.
At dawn nardy was roused by Ti-owa-konza
with a greeting as friendly
as it was dignified, though Hardy had
to surmise its meaning from the chief's
expression. Oinna was already out
side, helping with breakfast. While
she served her grandfather and the
guest, Hardy suggested that she go
with him to the mine, where they prob
ably would find Marie and the rest of
the party. Reluctant as was Ti-owa-konza
to part with his half-white
granddaughter, he ordered her pony
brought in and saddled. When she ex
plained to Hardy that the mine was
only a mile away across the mountain,
he declined the offer of a saddleless
mount, took ceremonious leave of the
old chief and set out up the mountain
side with the girl and a young Indian
guide.
Hardy noted the bearings and dis
tances of all prominent points around
him with the eye of one well trained in
the art of topography. A quarter
hour brought the little party to the
top of the low mountain. Before them
the far side of the mountain pitched
down a steep and rocky incline into a
narrow valley. The silent Indian guide
pointed to a terrace midway down the
descent. From amidst the pines was
rising a cloud of blue-black smoke.
Soon Oinna pointed out a cabin
among the pines. They were within
fifty yards of it when Vandervyn and
Dupont came out of a hole in the cliff
end of a spur-ridge near the cabin, and
stood staring at the newcomers in un
disguised astonishment. Hardy
swerved and hastened toward them,
his eyes bright and cold. The two
men glanced at one another and ad
vanced to meet him halfway.
Dupont was the first to speak: "By
Gar, Cap, we sure are mighty glad to
see you ag'ln all safe and sound !
Thought you'd gone and lost yourself
on that cussed mountain. The p'leece
are back there now, looking for you."
"And you two are here, I see," dry
ly rejoined 'Hardy.
"I beg your pardon, Captain Hardy,"
replied Vandervyn, his eyes flashing
with quick anger. "You told me to go
ahead and guard Marie."
"I added for you to send the police
around to Hank the assassin."
Vandervyn drew himself up stillly.
"You have my word, sir, that I heard
nothing of that."
"In common decency, you might
have returned to see what had become
of me," returned Hardy.
Dupont hastened to interpose: "Mr.
Van got the idea you meant us to rush
Marie through here to the mine, where
she'd be safe. So we lit out fast as
we could. The p'leece found your
mare, but lost your trail up in the
rocks. First thing this morning we
sent the whole bunch back to trail
you."
The honest bluffness of Dupont's
tone and his straightforward statement
compelled belief. Hardy nodded.
"Very well. I could not expect that
either of you would trouble to go back
for me,"
f "Just the same, we would' ve, Cup
yon can bet your life on it only on ac
'. count of Marie and" The trader
turned a dubious glance on Olnnn,
and remarked: "I see you stumbled
onto old Thunderbolt's camp."
"I did," said Hardy, and he smiled.
"Thanks to Miss Oinna, I was able to
make myself better understood than
when her brother acted as Interpre
ter. I nave reason to believe that he
wilfully misstated what I said to the
chiefs." "By Gar !" swore Dupont. "That wtd
Thunderbolt is a deep one. Just like
him to try to throw you off the track
by laying it all on Charlie."
"I'm not so ure of that, Jake," broke
in Vandervyn. "You remember, Char
lie was scared stiff. He may have be
come muddled."
"We-ell, meblie that had part to do
with it. Just the same, you can't tell
me the whole tribe ain't sore. Look.
at the way they've twice tried t. git.
Cap and potting Charlie last night."
"Charlie?" gasped Oinna. "You stay
Oh, Mr. Dupont, .e's not not "
"No buck up," brusquely replied
Vandervyn. "He was only nipped
through the arm. He will be all right
in a few days."
"All right? O-o-oh, thank your
sighed the girl.
In the stress of the moment she for
got that they were not alone. She held
out her arms to him and looked up
into his face, her soft eyes beaming
with love and adoration.
lie frowned, and his voice grated
with harshness: "Don't he a fool! lie's
in the cabin. Miss Dupont is taking
care of him. Go and thank her, not
me."
Tears gushed into the girl's eyes.
She drooped her head and slunk away
as if Vandervyn had struck her.
Hardy's face became like iron.
"Mr. Vandervyn," he admonished,
"do not let me again hear you speak
to any woman in that tone."
Vandervyn shrugged. "The chival
rous chevalier! Have it your own
way. Now I suppose you'll go in and
worry her and rag Charlie into a fever
about balling up his interpretation at
the council."
"As for that " began Hardy. He
stopped short and raised his hat.
Marie had come out of the cabin,
and was hastening forward to greet
him, her beautiful face radiant.
"Captain!" she called. "You're here
really here, safe and unhurt !'
"Thanks to Miss Redbear," replied
Hardy.
"But how could Oinna surely , she
did not help you escape the murder
er?" "No. It was easy enough to dislodge
the fellow. The difficulty was to track
him among those rocks. Soon lost him
and myself also."
"And he escaped to shoot Charlie
the wolf! The poor boy was tracking
a deer over on the ridge half a mile
or so this way."
"All's well that ends well," Hardy
assured her. "I'm here, unhurt, as
"In Common Decency You Might Have
Returned to See What Had Becom
of Me."
you see; Redbear, I understand, has
only a slight wound ; and the old chief
now knows that I am a friend of the
tribe. He will call a council to meet
us here tomorrow."
"A council here?" queried Vander
vyn. "Why not?" demanded Hardy, fix
ing him with his keen glance. "Could
there be a more suitable place for a
tribal council than at the mine which
lias been the source of all the recent
trouble on this reservation?"
"Nom d'un chien!" muttered Du
pont. "What's that breed girl gone
and blabbed?"
"Nothing," rejoined Hardy. "She
has done no more than interpret be
tween the head chief and myself. I
have learned all about Nogen's dishon
esty and his harshness to the tribe.
It is well that you and Mr. Vandervyn
tried to induce him to be more just,
rise I should order you both off the
reservation for lying to me."
"Lying? What d'you mean by that?"
blustered Dupont.
"The word is explicit," said Hardy.
"Mr. Vandervyn, take your hand from
your holster. Miss Dupont, I regret
the necessity of making this reprimand
in your presence."
The girl's eyes were ablaze with in
dignant anger. "Regret is a mild ex
cuse for insulting my father, sir!"
IlliliiijiUiiijiimiUttiiUiuui
n
Do you believe that Vpnder H
vyn had anything to do xvith the j
attempt to ambush Capta.M p
Hardy on the way to the mine f
and what about the story of f
Readbear's wound?
11
":;tti'!Ut-jtnp't!ltiti'!m1!mi!'!!!';?l:'! '-'
(TO BE -CCmTTNUF