e next instant a company of soldiery, headed by Major
R----, ride straight up into the saloon, firing right and left.

"Come!" cried Calamity Jane, grasping Harris by the arm, and pulling
him toward a side door, "it's time for us to slope now. It's every man
for himself."

And only under her guidance was Ned able to escape, and save being
tailed and captured with the rest.

* * * * *

About noon of the succeeding day, two persons on horseback were coming
along the north gulch leading into Deadwood, at an easy canter. They
were the fearless Scarlet Boy, or as he is better known, Fearless
Frank, and his lovely protege, Miss Terry. They had been for a morning
ride over to a neighboring claim, and were just returning.

Since their arrival in Deadwood the youth had devoted a part of his
time in a search for Alice's father, but all to no avail. None of the
citizens of Deadwood or its surroundings had ever heard of such a
person as Captain Walter Terry.

The young couple had become fast friends from their association, and
Alice was improving in looks every day she stayed in the mountains.

"I feel hungry," observed Frank, as they rode along. "This life in the
hills gives me a keen appetite. How is it with you, lady?"

"The same as with you, I guess. But look! Yonder comes a horseman
toward us!"

It was even so. A horseman was galloping up the gulch--no other than
our young friend, Ned Harris.

As the two parties approach, the faces of each of the youths grow
deadly pale; there comes into their eyes an ominous glitter; their
hands each clasp the butt of a revolver, and they gradually draw rein.

That they are enemies of old--that the fire of rancor burns in their
hearts, and that this meeting is unexpected, is plain to see.

Now, that they have met, probably for the first time in months or
years, it remains not to be doubted but a settlement must come between
them--that their hate must result in satisfaction, whether in blood or
not.

CHAPTER X.

THE DUEL AND ITS RESULT.

Belligerent were the glances exchanged between the two, as they sat
there facing each other, each with a hand closed over the butt of a
pistol; each as motionless as a carved statue.

Alice Terry had grown pale, too. She saw that friend and protector and
the stranger were enemies,--that this meeting though purely accidental
was not to end without trouble. Her lips grew set, her eyes flashed,
and she r