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 b.u.t.ton 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 pa.s.sionate 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--G.o.d 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 skin the saloons in town, and finish out their spree where it would not diminish their own stores.

As Wild Bill said, they were going where money would be of little account, if all the stories about the gold to be found were true; so what they spent now they wouldn't have to carry. And they went in, as such reckless men generally do, spending their money as freely as they could, and drinking with a "looseness" that promised headaches on the morrow, if nothing more.

Wild Bill went in on the spree with a rush, as if he wished to drown the remembrance of his late fright, and despite the cautions of his friend, Captain Jack, who strove hard to keep him within bounds.

California Joe of course was in his element, and in a little while all the party became so turbulent that Crawford left them in disgust. For, as Addie Neidic had said of him, despite his a.s.sociations, he was a gentleman.

By midnight every saloon had been visited, and many of them pretty well cleaned out, and now Bill proposed to go and break a faro bank that some of the party spoke of.

"I have seven hundred dollars left out of a thousand my woman gave me before I started," said he. "I'll lose that, or break the bank; see if I don't."

All of the party who were sober enough went with Bill, and soon he was before the green board.

Without even waiting to get the run of the game, be planked a hundred dollars on the king, and lost. Without a word, he put two hundred dollars more on the same card, and won. He left the four hundred down, and in another turn he had eight hundred.

"Luck is with me, boys!" He shouted. "I'll break the bank! Let her swing for the king once more, Mr. Dealer!"

To the wonder of all, though it was the last turn of the cards, the king won, and Wild Bill picked up sixteen hundred dollars.

His friends now urged him to quit, but the demon of the game had entered his soul, and he swore, with a terrible oath, that he would play till he broke the bank, or was broke himself.

A new pack was now put in the box, and once more the dealer cried out:

"Make your bets gentlemen--make year bets! The game is ready!"

Bill, with a reckless bravado, as much of rum as of his own nature, again laid all his winnings on one card--this time the queen. And with wonderful luck--it could be nothing else--he again doubled his pile, this time his gains being thirty-two hundred dollars.

"Stop now, Bill!" cried California Joe, "This can't last!"

"It shall last! The bank can't stand more than two more such pulls!"

shouted Bill, wildly.

And again on the same card he staked his entire winnings.

The dealer and banker were one; he turned pale, but when all bets were down, he pulled his cards without a tremor in his hand. But a groan broke from his lips as the queen once more came out on the winning side.

Once more Bill's stakes were doubled, and this time he changed his card.

The banker hesitated. His capital would hardly cover the pile if Bill won again.

"Keep on," whispered a voice in his ear; "if he breaks you, I'll stake your bank."