steep embankment.

Major R---- was precipitated headlong over the embankment, and in his
downward flight probably saw more than one soaring comet. He struck
head-first in a muddy run, and a sorrier-looking officer of the U.S.A.
was never before seen in the Black Hills as he emerged from his bath,
than the major. His ridiculous appearance went so far as to stay the
general torrent of blasphemy and turn it into a channel of boisterous
laughter.

No delay was made in putting things ship-shape again, and ere morning
dawned Deadwood beheld the returned soldiers and wrecked stage with
its sullen passengers within its precincts.

Dick and his men rode rapidly down the canyon, the two prisoners
bringing up the rear under the escort of two masked guards.

These guards were brothers and Spanish-Mexicans at that.

The elder Filmore, a keen student of character, was not long in making
out these Spaniards' true character, nor did their greedy glances
toward his and his son's diamonds escape him.

"We want to get free!" he at last whispered, when none of those ahead
were glancing back. "You will each receive a cool five hundred apiece
if you will set us at liberty."

The two road-agents exchanged glances.

"It's a bargain!" returned one. "Stop your horses, and let the others
go on!"

The main party were at this juncture riding swiftly down a steep
grade.

The four horses were quietly reined in, and when the others were out
of hearing, their noses were turned back up the canyon in the
direction of Deadwood.

"This will be an unhealthy job for us!" said one of the brothers,
"should we ever meet Dick again."

"Fear him not!" replied Alexander Filmore, with an oath. "If he ever
crosses your path shoot him down like a dog, and I'll give you a
thousand dollars for the work. The sooner he dies the better I'll be
suited."

He spoke in a tone of strongest hate--deepest rancor.

CHAPTER IX.

AT THE "MET."

A few nights subsequent to the events related in our last chapter, it
becomes our duty to again visit the notorious "Metropolitan" saloon of
Deadwood, to see what is going on there.

As usual everything around the place and in it is literally "red hot."
The bars are constantly crowded, the gaming-tables are never empty,
and the floor is so full of surging humanity that the dance, formerly
a chief attraction, has necessarily been suspended.

The influx of "pilgrims" into the Black Hills for the last few days