Year: 1859

conscience for the bit Of white. I'll
wager you'll neither whip!"


The excitement was very great !:
both were capital marksmen and had
long been pittcd against zach othar in
every manly sport. Hilton was very
powerfully built in strength, a per-
feet Samson, and always covcting
rather than avoiding the peril of per-
sonal encounters--nevcr so happy as
when he could provoke quarrel and
mix up his terrible powers with others.
Herbert Vaughn was exactly the re-
verse, slightly built, with great length
and sinew in limb, broad chcsted with
a fair, bold forehead, raven hair which
hung in profusion of curls on his
neck, aud brilliant black eye express
sive and roguish There was always
a smile on his beautiful, yet manly
face, while sort of feminine grace
seemed to mark his every movement :;
yet none could surpass him in person
al prowcss, and but few could excite
him to anger and ever with kind
and jocose word for his acquaintances
he was loved almost as Rob Hilton
was despised. The toss up Of dime
gave Hilton the first shot, and step
ping forward he drew his rifle to his
shoulder and pulled the trigger the
ball cut the edge of the paper and
buried itself deep in the tree.


Z" a miss !" cried a half dozen voices.


" Can't expect anything else"
growlcd Hilton, "when man sprawls
his paper all over the tree But no
matter, he cant more than cover mine,
and the next time III hide the nail for
you


Stepping as slowly as though about
to draw upon deer Vaughn lowered
his gun to its place his chest hcaved,
his eye dilatcd, and all watched his
fire with eagerness. After taking
steady aim a minute, the trigger was
pulled, the paper disappeared in an
instant, and wild shout shrill as an
Indian war whoop,proclaimed Herbert
Vaughn the victor.


Every hand but one was extended
to greet the victorious youth, every
face but one was lit up with smile
at his unexpected success-that one
was Robert IIilton's. He spoke not
word, he breathcd no oath but upon
his face there CLEANED the demoniac
fury, betokening anything but good to
his victorious adversary.


I'm glad, my boy, you've got such
good blood in you," exclaimed Cor
don, grasping Vaughan cordially by
the hand 81 like to see a fellow
modest like You /"


Eve no notion of Dragging !" re-
piled Vaughn. 1T was only luck
after all, and if | haze beat, let it go
at that. But Roger -!'


Suddenly the sharp, quick report of
a rifle was heard from the thicket, and
simultaneously Herbert Vaughn drop
ped to the ground like a dead limb.
In an instant the blood was gushing
from the sleeve of his hunting shirt
In torrent, and his cheek was bIanch-
cd az driven snow. All present for
single moment seemed dumb with
wonder by the dreadful occurrence,
and then the discharge of half dozen
rifles into the thicket was followed by
a GREATNESS pause-all eager to catch
the sound of a body falling to the
earth.


3" After him, every one of you !"
exclaimed Gordon, lifting the head of
the wounded man. "And the one
who brings him shall have all the
credit Of this days hunt"


Four of the best runners were III
stantly on the track, and half mile
off upon the slope of hill, something
might have been discerncd like fox
at full speed, so swift was its progress.
1t was Robert Hilton, the outlaw, in
full flight for the river. Poor Vaughn
was at length subjected to an exam
ination, and the wound, though pref
ty severe one, being made with a rag
ged bullet, was principally confined
to the tleshy part of his arm, and
therefore his life was in no immediate
danger. The skilful hand of Roger
Gordon dressed the wound and with a
little assistance Vaughn was enabled
to get home. While away over hill
and dale flew his enraged comrades
like tigers in search Of prey reck-
less of the choicest game, standing as
if ready to be taken, they sped furi-
ously onward, only bent upon seeking
for the game whose hearts blood
should be shed upon the altar of their
revenge.


But when night came they had no
trail of him, and when they returned
home they had the meager consolation
that one life had been spared that
would otherwise have been sacrificed
and Rob Hilton, the murderer, once
the bosom friend, has escaped ven
geance.


Herbert Vaughn after the quarrel
recorded above, became an altered
man. No smile or pleasant word
no old and favorite joke passed his
lips, and at last one stormy night
when all the elements seemed vying
in their discord, he left his fathers
house, and after several days absence,
when search was made for him he
was nowhere to be found.


Many years passed. The old Ken
lucky homes vanished with the depart
VIII IutlE
roof-trees, and of all the athletic COM
pany who trysted on that autumn day
beneath the broad old oak, not one
was there to mark its autumn leaves
or take shelter meath it's shade.


Among the cabins along the Platte
river, whose inhabitants were destined
to become the strength and safeguard
of groaning Kansas, might have been
pointed out that of Roger Gordon an
emigrant from Kentucky, unbiased,
intrepid and courageous, and whom
one can easily recognize as the gene
rous umpire in the former episode of
our narrative.


One morning while he was busily
engaged tilling the few acres that