d the stranger drew near enough for the Scarlet Boy to
perceive that he was clad in buck-skin; well armed; wore a Spanish
sombrero, and hair long, down over the square shoulders. "I'm Calamity
Jane."

If McKenzie uttered an ejaculation of surprise, it was not to be
wondered at, for he had heard many stories, in Deadwood, concerning
the "dare-devil gal dressed up in men's toggery."

"Calamity Jane?" he echoed, picking up his pipe. "Where in the world
did _you_ come from, and how did you get here, and what do you want,
and--"

"One at a time, please. I came from Deadwood with Road-Agent Dick's
party--unknown to them, understand you. That answers two questions.
The third is, I want to be around when there's any fun going on; and
it's lucky I'm here now. I guess Dick has just got layed out by two
fellows in the valley below here, and they've slid off with him over
among the foot-hills yonder. I want you to stub along after me, and
lend the voices of your sixes, if need be. I'm going to set him at
liberty!"

"I'm at your service," Frank quickly replied. Excitement was one of
his passions; adventure was another.

"Are you well heeled?"

"I reckon. Always make it a point to be prepared for wild beasts and
the like, you know."

"A good idea. Well, if you are ready, we'll slide. I don't want them
toughs to get the drop on Dick if I can help it."

"Who are they?"

"Who--the toughs?"

"Yes; they that took the road-agent"

"I don't know 'm. Guess they're tender-foots--some former enemies of
his, without doubt. They propose to quiz a secret about some girl out
of him, and then knife him. We'll have to hurry or they'll get their
work in ahead of us."

They left the mouth of the mine, and skurried down into the valley,
through the dense shroud of gloom.

Calamity Jane led the way; she was both fleet of foot and cautious.

Let us look down on the foot-hill camp, and the two Fillmores who are
stationed on either side of their prisoner.

The younger presses the muzzle of his revolver against Deadwood Dick's
heart; the elder holds a long gleaming knife upheld in his right hand.

"One!" he counts, savagely.

"Two!"--after a momentary pause. Another lapse of time, and then--

"Hold! gentlemen; that will do!" cries a clear ringing voice; and
Calamity Jane and McKenzie, stepping out of the darkness, with four
gleaming "sixes" in hand, confirm the pleasant assertion!

CHAPTER XVI.

THE ROAD-AGENT'S MERCY--CONC