e sometimes
tasks him with having given the dusky ladies too great encouragement,
and the old sailor gets very red and protests that such was not the
case; that he couldn't help it; that he always was a great favorite
with the ladies. At first, he used to call upon Walter and Charley to
prove the truth of his statements, but they would only shake their
heads ominously and remain gravely silent.

Upon their return the hunters had prepared a full statement of the
death of the convicts and mailed it to the proper authorities, but,
much to their indignation, their story was not believed but was
regarded as an attempt to secure the reward money that had been offered.

Chris is just now greatly incensed over a song that every one seems to
be humming. We believe the chorus runs, "Coon, coon, coon, how I wish
my color would fade." He regards "coon" as a much more offensive title
even than nigger, and contends that it is no name to be applied to a
free-born black English gentleman.

Just now all our hunters are resting up from their terrible
experiences. One would think that they had passed through enough to
discourage them from undertaking another hazardous trip, but adventures
breed a love for adventure, and the free, open air calls loudly to
those who have followed stream and forest.

THE END.

THE BRONCHO RIDER BOYS SERIES

By FRANK FOWLER

A Series of Stirring Stories for Boys, that not only contain
considerable information concerning cowboy life, but at the same time
seem to breathe the adventurous spirit that lives in the clear air of
the wide plains, and lofty mountain ranges of the Wild West. These
tales are written in a vein calculated to delight the heart of every
lad who loves to read of pleasing adventure in the open; yet at the
same time the most careful parent need not hesitate to place them in
the hands of his boy.

THE BRONCHO RIDER BOYS AT KEYSTONE RANCH; or,

Three Chums of the Saddle and Lariat.

In this story the reader makes the acquaintance of the devoted chums,
Adrian Sherwood, Donald McKay, and William Stonewall Jackson Winkle, a
fat, auburn-haired Southern lad, who is known at various times among
his comrades as "Wee Willie Winkle," "Broncho Billie," and "Little
Billie." The book begins in rapid action, and there is surely
"something doing" up to the very time you lay it down, possibly with a
sigh of regret because you have reached the end; yet thankful to know
that