and trappings
around, led the horse to the top of the canyon rim, and, mounting, set
off for Fort Faraway, taking the trail that must lead him by the
deserted camp where he had killed Black-heart Bill in a duel, and where
the desperado rested in his grave after his tumultuous life of evil.

By rapid riding he reached the deserted camp soon after midnight, and,
dismounting, prepared to go into camp.

There was the best of water and grass there, and, to be merciful to his
horse, Andrew Seldon did not allow his own feelings to cause him to camp
elsewhere when the animal would be the sufferer.

Having watered his horse and staked him out to feed, he sat down upon a
log near the wickiup and ate his cold supper quietly.

Then he lighted his pipe and began to smoke with a strange calmness of
mien, when it is remembered that there, within a few yards of him, at
the base of the quaking aspen whose white trunk looked ghostly in the
moonlight, was the grave of the man he had killed, the man who had been
his boyhood friend, and afterward his bitterest foe.

Laying aside his pipe, he spread his blankets in the wickiup, and then
walked quietly toward the quaking aspen.

There was the mound that marked the last resting-place of Hugh Mayhew,
whose deeds of wickedness had won for him the name of Black-heart Bill.

What thoughts crowded upon him as he stood there gazing upon the little
mound of earth, knowing that only a few feet below the surface the dead
face of his one-time friend was upturned toward him, who can tell?

For some time he stood there, his arms folded upon his broad breast, and
his head bowed. At last, a sigh found its way between his set teeth,
and he turned away.

Reaching the wickiup, he paused, and mused aloud:

"Well, I am making a bold venture to dare go to the fort from which I
fled on the day appointed for my execution, fled to live on here in the
wilderness, believed to be dead, yet living, my own name cast aside, and
living under that of one I never knew in life.

"How strange this life is, its bitterness, sorrows, realities, and
romance, and how strange, indeed, has been my career. Well, what will
the end be, I wonder?

"I am taking my life in my hands to venture to the fort, but I must save
that poor girl, run down those outlaws, and I can only do it through
Buffalo Bill. Now to turn in, for I must get some rest, and will, even
in this weird spot."

CHAPTER XXIX.

TO WELCOME THE FAIR G