ad clung to him ever since. He was well advanced in
years, yet withal a good trailer and an expert guide, as the success
of his many late expeditions into the Black Hills had evidenced.

Those who had heard of Joe's skill as a guide, intrusted themselves in
his care, for, while the stages were stopped more or less on each
trip, Charity Joe's train invariably went through all safe and sound.
This was partly owing to his acquaintance with various bands of
Indians, who were the chief cause of annoyance on the trip.

So far we see the train toward the land of gold, without their having
seen sight or sound of hostile red-skins, and Charity is just
chuckling over his usual good luck:

"I tell ye what, fellers, we've hed a fa'r sort uv a shake, so fur,
an' no mistake 'bout it. Barrin' thar ain't no Sittin' Bulls layin' in
wait fer us, behead yander, in ther mounts, I'm of ther candid opinion
we'll get through wi'out scrapin' a ha'r."

"I hope so," said Fearless Frank, rolling over on the grass and gazing
at the guide, thoughtfully, "but I doubt it. It seems to me that one
hears of more butchering, lately, than there was a month ago--all on
account of the influx of ruffianly characters into the Black Hills!"

"Not all owing to that, chippy," interposed "General" Nix, as he had
immediately been christened by the miners--"not all owing to that.
Thar's them gol danged copper-colored guests uv ther government--they're
kickin' up three pints uv the'r rumpus, more or less--consider'bly less
of more than more o' less. Take a passel uv them barbarities an' shet
'em up inter a prison for three or thirteen yeers, an' ye'd see w'at
an impression et'd make, now. Thar'd be siveral less massycrees a week,
an' ye wouldn't see a rufyan onc't a month. W'y, gentlefellows, thar'd
nevyar been a ruffian, ef et hedn't been fer ther cussed Injun tribe--not
_one!_ Ther infarnal critters ar' ther instignators uv more deviltry
nor a cat wi' nine tails."

"Yes, we will admit that the reds are not of saintly origin," said
Fearless Frank, with a quiet smile. "In fact I know of several who are
far from being angels, myself. There is old Sitting Bull, for
instance, and Lone Lion, Rain-in-the-Face, and Horse-with-the-Red-Eye,
and so forth, and so forth!"

"Exactly. Every one o' 'em's a danged descendant o' ther old Satan,
hisself."

[Illustration: Ha! ha! ha! isn't that rich, now? Ha! ha! ha! arrest
Deadwood Dick if you can!]

"Layin' aside ther In