Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1899-01-15
GUARDING THE TREASURE.
Or The White pGnfher'S Watch.

at home, the hunting party rode away,
escorted by a whole barnyardful CT
trailers, caches, ours and pups, which
followed in solid phalanx, or rushed
about in scouting squads through the
surrounding brush.
Gaining a hogback, overlooking
Squaw creek, John Morgan suddenly
yelled cut. as he pointed across to
Medicine Ridge: There he is, boys
There he isl Don't you see him."
There it was; no optical illusion
about what twenty men saw at the
same time. On the topmost .bowlder CT
a huge pile stood the white panther,
his body not an inch less than six
feet long, his tail moving uneasily
from side to side. Gazing at them a
few moments, he gave a scream that
stopped the legs OF every dog in the
pack and set his bristIes on end; Aot d
horse but pricked up his ears and
snorted in terror. Another scream
followed quickly. Then, growing say
agely, he spTang from rock to rock,
TO disappear behind the pile.
Come on, boys yelled old Morgan,
putting spurs to his horse; now is the
time to head him off. %
Away they dashed down through
brush and powders and spiked SUI
huara5, to push and scramble and paw
for slippery foothold on tho rugged
sides Of Medicine ridge. And now
they are riding hither and thither, in
hurrying groups about the pile of boul-
ders. But the best that sagest dog can
do was to whine and wind up his tail
nd pm q Ii l-a mol cd tlt1.
tie
Old John Morgan could not under
stand it; neither could the dogs.
might have known it, boys. 1t hap
pened this same way in the los, ana
We had the best blood hounds in Ar1-
IONA. Now, Wen scatter out and try
making a drive of the ridge. Don t
fail to keep your eyes peeled. I'll
take the place nearest the top, and you
fellows may string out toward the bot
tom
For hours they rode thus, going back
ward and forward a dozen times on
both slopes. Thickets were beaten and
peered into. boulders examined and
ridden round. but sunset came and
found old John more puzzled than ever.
The dogs had given it up long ago.
But hardly had the party recrossed
SquaW creek and gained the hOgback
again before a scream caused every
man to halt and wheel his horse on the
instant Looking through the falling
light, they saw the White Panther
staiding in the same place where they
had seen him before. The more super
stiti0us started for home, declaring
that dark should not catch them on any
such DEVILS stamping ground.
This show of weakness sent old John
Morgan from his saddle in a trice.
Just skip out, every one of YOU" he
cried, throwing his bride reins to the
ground; but l propose to see this
scrape through to a finish, and I'm
going to stay on SQuaw creek tonight.
Anybody got the grit to try it, say sc" -
Greenwood and some dozen more
rode over to where the old man stood.
But, the panther screaming just then,
the others left the spot without cere-
mony. Morgan then started two of
his hands of to the ranch for grub.
Taking the others. he went down to
Moccasin Tanks and built a roaring
fire of dry juniper. Some % or 30 of
the dogs stayed with them.
AiL6r eating supper lnS lSA luIuGu
in at once, intending to be astir at
first peep of day. The passing of u
saw a circle of sleeping dogs closely
packed around the heap of Goals. The
boys were struggling nobly across
waterless dream wastes and doing bat
tie with whole troops Of shadowy
panthers.
But. unknown to all, a danger more
real has been lurking in the darkness
around the camp-is crouching now in
the deeper shades Of a black alder tree.
An owl boots in the black alder tree.
There is a stir in the shadows. The
danger crouches closer, measures the
distance, springs and lands full upon
the nearest dreamer.
Up jumps % dogs at the same instant
with savage growls, and rush pell-mell
to the attack across rows of startled
sleepers. But the danger has caught
up its victim, and dashes away up the
slope of Medicine Ridge.
Come on! Come on" cried old John
Morgan, rushing after the baying pack.
Wonder he goesi Shoot him."
THE devil, l reckon" he gasped,
stopping for breath. Whatever it is,
it's got one of our men. I saw him +"
For the love of God-nol" blurted
out Mitchell's cowpuncher. Cant be
possible. Who is it? Where's Burnie
Greenwood? Not here, Run back to