The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 18, 1898, Page 24

o E-E-@-E-0-E-E-E-8-8-0-E-B-R-n THREE : @?ffizanai @e.:_yzeradoea: 1 Sept. 15, 1898.—The death of Ezra znch home in this locality the has revived the memories of all the peo- i in Arizona and New Mexico and ern California elghteen vears ago, concern- amous gang of desperadoes of which Jan Elkins and Bill Howard were leaders at the time of the Tombstone mining ern Arizona. Mr. Davidson ‘was he plan of capture of Elkins and by subscriptions $2000 for his ory of two of three of the most erous men known in Arizona n the Tombstone mines were fur- in bullion every day and the wild with excitement, every nd frontiersman in the Territo- one went there. All the bad K s and Indian Territory n as the news went abroad ing mines were the richest ock mining days In Nevada. men who went to Tombstonse in the summer Bill Howard and George Wilbur. ity of Boston originally and had s of Colorado and Idaho fortwelve wonderfully expert shots, and Whatever reputalon they had n the mining camps, it did not foflow stone, and for a few months the three spent compared with that of most of the men about ward became the night City Marshal in Tomb- in the fall of a peculiar specimen ! manhood. Of medium stature, with an enor- prodigious breadth of shoulders, immense mus- aordinarily bowed legs, he was e between a Hercules and a monstros- ven months he conducted himself with although most men preferred he 2 e, for he had the failing on all of boasting of his proficiency with ating it by drawing and cocking his on revolver, t. g it In the face and about t, however harmless he had itered a school that quickly developed his and ferocity. He was beginning to im- chief, an assumption that has never yet ged in a frontier town. stion his claim to the title was Hank from San Francisco. Declaration of 1 the trial at arms came n saloon in the spring of 1879. bout Tombstone for days that bound to have it out at almost ttle aid come there would be thought of interfering in those days 'ho did not like each other. About 11 Howard entered a saloon and seated ame of billiards. Presently Gleason der the influence of liquor, and, upom him to draw and defend himeelf, at g own pistol. Howard sprang rd table opposite where Gleason tter quickly leveled his pistol, shouting at the same time, - for you.” king the bed of the table and sleason could fire again, How- uching position and sent a' bullet s brea killing him instantly. The £0 palpably in self-defense that Howard was for it t the encounter was as fatal to him in s to ictim. He was now indisputably chief, the title must meet all comers, which or later. He always went about vith several revolvers and a bowie knife inside his leather coat. He never sat with his back to a window or an open door, and Invariably walk- €d in the middle of the roadsoas to have clear range if any ona should take atm at him. A few months later he had a with Dan Kent, a dangerous character, who es(‘zl&)ed with- a ba wound. These Howard, and people began to avoid him. The f,ubllr was not eft long in sus- pense regarding is true charac- One night night he was caught commit- ting a highway bery. It was believed that he had been rob- bing for a long time, but no one deemed it pru. dent to investi- ate the mattel e was not ar- rested for the offense in which he had been d tected, so com- were the authorities terrorized by him. They dropped him from the police force, to which he ince the town started. rd became utterly reckless and waggering and bloody-eyed as he was, him as théy would a rattlesnake. He v with a man who sold coffee, and shot 1 the shoulder without a second’s thought. Two evolvers and a big knife were always strapped to He would enter a gambling house, seat himself nd appropriate chips from the stacks of the »ply himself unmolested to the game. Such airs finally became unendurable to the sport- ing fraternity, and it was resolved to put him out of the way. g ‘One night while he was sitting at 2 vingt-et-un table in the back part of the Apache saloon on Ming street, three men, with records as black as his own, but not possessed of his strength and fearlessness, shook the dice at the bar in front to decide which of them should kill him. The lot fell to Dan W, The arrangements were quickly made. West withdrew and provided himself with a double-barreled shof . When he was prepared and had stationed himself outside the rear door of the saloon, one of his confederates fired a pistol in frcnt. But Howard had friends and he was in- formed of the plan to assassinate him. He was therefore on his guard. During the general rush of men in the sa- loon to the front door to ascertain what was the occasion of the shot, West opened the back door a little, thrust his shotgun through, and fired at the place where he had seen > a moment before. Howard had, however, seat and so escaped a heavy charge of buck- In a moment he leaped from his concealment be- hind the bar, and, revolver in hand, ran out of the rear r in the_ darknes: West, who no doubt thought he killed Howard, was caught on the run a block away. fellers that Dan El- new trick in this hold up ‘Te!! them Tombstone has got a ness.” kins plet simp had belong ‘rom ths m, olded ran plump up against him, wrenched the smokin shotgun from his hands, and throwing him to the ground, held Mmhthern with one foot while he emptied two revolv- ers into hi s head and chest, % fled to the mountains, and was co. He was never seen again in %81 he returned to Arizona, and, having been caught In an attempted robbery at Maricopa, was gent to Ynma prison for life. He was a broken down man, & mere shudow of his former self when he went there. He was from the first one cf the most tractable prisoners at Yuma. He never referred td his Tombstone experfences. e was an assistant to the physiclan, and his early com- mon school education in Boston came into good use_amon; the rough, ignorant criminals in the institution. He use to git at the bedside of sick prisoners and read to them by the hour. He was a methodical and painstaking nurse and many a man in Yuma prison owed his recovery of health in part to the care that the ex-robber and all- round bad man gave him. Two years ago Bill Howard mwight possibly have had a pardon, but he said that he was broken down in mind and body, and did not know how to provide a good living for himself, so he preferred to remain at Yuma prison, where he had extra liberties, with good board and plenty of true friends. Dan Elkins and George Wilbur, who went to Tomb- stone with Howard, had become the botdest highway rob- bers ever known In Arizona. Gambling and mining were too slow for them as ways of making money. When How- -d became the tough man of the mining town and risked life daily merely because he wanted to be feared by population, Elkins and Wilbur told him he was a fool. man who risks his life ought to get something worth having. They hinted that the contents of only one of the =trong boxes of gold bullion that went away every week or ten days from the gold mines in Tombstone to “alifornia and El- Paso would make a man independently ich. Howard, however, had personal dges to settle and his reputation as a’ tough to sustain in Tombstone, nd_the trio of young men from New England broke up. TFlkins and Wilbur went from the mining town to Tuc- son in the spring of 1879 and engaged themselves as work- ers about the livery stables, where the teams that drew the coaches from the mines across the alkali deserts to Tos Angeles, In Southern California, rested. As time went on théy gave out that they had by chance come upon rich lnoking ore in the Santa Rita Mountain canyons, some fifty miles southwest from Tucson, and across the sandy ra, M In waste. Cnce every weck or two the two men rode away from the lazy old Mexican town, apparently for a visit of a few day r newl In the fall of 1579 along the lines of the to Yuma and El Paso. They were W0 men who wore whit sks stopp e stage to Catifornia three and then the next week the El Pa: 23 miles awa another direction. The in two i ces, and another time a I v in getting out of as shot dead. One others at different took passage on the stage at a i He was, of course, to Los Angeles, o pistols and vho were loll- . Thei them in ing back on the in & few words in he commande t watch, One zérs, to throw to turn all v: mone; his big por been st red o and chaparral along t road, er in hand, commanded the stage driver to At that mome and helped in the coerc 44-calibre bullets whi The money box off in a seccnd, o v jumped from inside the n of the driver by sending zing d usly ri seat was thrown .d to whip up as fast king away over the T yme 200 miles mashed and the valua- mounted their horses ng the giant cacti ort into the moun- r gone at that time. he United, § sh \d_a posse of men went here, there and ¢ in the Territory searching for the bandits. The owners of the Rilly Mining Company at Tombstone offered a reward of $3000 for the capture of the robbers, and there were several other rewards of smaller t there seemed to be no clue to the men. ble man who was riding on the coach to- over the route where a hold-up had oc- curred a day or two previous, got out when he reached the scene of the robbery, and on his hands and knees crawled among the e brush and cacti, all the time examining the marks that remained of the horses’ hoofs in the shift- ing sand. He went back to Tucson in a few days and kept on thinking. A week later United States Marshal Lawson and four deputies went to Tucson and had a consultation with the stable man. He said he believed the marks were those made by a horse ridden by Elkins, because no other horse in that region had-such a curious side step when nervous and restless. The Government officers watched Elkins and Wilbur and were satisfied that they were the highwaymen. Bo one night the Marshal and his deputies made a_ descent upon the adobe hut that the robbers used as a home on the outskirts of Tucson. Elkins or Wilbur must have seen the officers approaching in the moonlight, for no sooner had the men cautiously dismounted and were stealthily advancing, pistols in hand. toward the only door of the house, than it flew open and the two robbers came out. Quicker than thought the Marshai was knocked down unconscious by a blow on the head with the butt of a re- volver and three of his deputies were shot. Two of them were killed instantly. A half-dozen shots went toward the robbers. In less time than it takes to tell it, Elkins and WlAbur had run to their corral at.the back of the adobe, and, each having thrown a bridle across a horse, they were off and away. ‘When the excitement was over a vain search was made for many miles out across the sand for the course taken b: the men. A heavy windstorm came up the next day, ani iy was nbsvlutehi‘ imposgible to trall the bandits on the shifting sands. The adobe was ransacked, and sufficient evidence was found to connect the two men with the high- Wi robberies. n%‘here were no more hold-ups of the stages from Tuc- son for some months. It began to be generally thought that the robbers had {un away to Mexico or had been lost out on the desert. the following March, however, there was another. bold stage robbery in a new locnu'txyh— along the lonely route between Benson and Deming. Y driver refused to stop the four horses drawing the stage and tried to move on. He was shot from his high seat, while a few bullets were sent whistling through the stage to make the passengers more obedient to the demands of the two highwaymen. After the customary stand and de- liver had been made and the treasure box under the driv- er's seat had been opened with an ax, one of the passen- gers obayed the order to mount the driver’s seat and drive on toward New Mexico without sayving a word. That rob- bery ylelded some $6000. Dan Elkins and his partner Wil- bur grew bolder as the vear passed. They knew that thelr identity was known all over Arizona, and that rewards ag- gregating $8000 were out for their capture, dead or alive. 'hey were cold-blooded murderers and had not one re- deeming trait. They would even rob women on their way to their families at the mines. Tt was a common trick of theirs to shoot through a man’s hat or between his legs merely to enjoy his terror. One time one of them shouted to the passer.gers in a stage as it rolled away: ‘“You fellows may go and tell all the sheriffs this side of hell that you have been held up by Dan Elkins and Vilbur. We defy them all.” n Eikins {s remembered as the original lone bandit of the Southwest, because, single-handed, he once held up a stage-load of eight passengers, besides the driver, all of whom were armed. Tor weeks the exploit was the talk of men in and about Tombstone. For some reason Wilbur was not along with Elkins on a raid one day when the stage was rumbling along through San Miguel Pass, and it seemed a fit opportunity for Elkins to make another raise of money. Judge Bennett, now of San Gabriel, Cal., was one of the passengers, and he tells how the robber worked his desnerate game, ‘“We on the inside of the coach had just been talking,” says the Juvdge, “of the robberies that Elkins and his partner, V'ilbur, had committed in the Territory, and the ghame it was that an organized effort was not made to go and keep after the villains until they were killed, even if it took a vear, when we heard a rifle crack, and a man shout to the driver: * ‘Come now, s!oP those horses or vou'll drop dead!” ““We were traveling through a rocky region along the foothills, and each of us knew instantly that all were In for a hold-up then and there. Every one wondered what his neizhbor would do with his pistol. “T'll be — " said a big man from Texas, ‘if I'll stand this infernal nonsense,’ and he snatched his big shooting- iron up from the seat at his side. “The driver put on the brakes and the stage stopped at once, when we heard a volce outside sa) ving: ‘Now, you fellows on the inside get out on this side, THEY KNOCKED DOWN THE MARSHAL @AND SHOT THREE OF HIS DEPUTIES. The first man who gets out on the other side will drop dead as a smelt. Don’t be lazy. All of you throw down your shooters as you file out of the coach, for there's a ot of sure rifle shots that's got their eyes on you and are hiding in these here rocks to lay you out cold dead if you don’t mind what I'm telling vou.’ “Well, I believed that some of our party would never listen to such talk, but I was not going to risk myself by being too iréependent of a stage robber with a rifile aimed straight at my body, and, what's more, 1 didn't know how many more there were almed the same way among those bowlders all around us. When I got out of the stage I noticed that the highwayman wore a wiremask contriv- ance over hiv face, and had a big black beard and a whole arsenal uf weapons in a beit about his waist. He stood on a commanding bowlder, and kept his Winchester repeater moving slowly over us. I took- particular pains that he saw that I threw down my two pistols on the ground, and I noticed that every one of us, including the Texan, did the same thing. “ “Throw up your hands, gents,’ sald the masked rob- ber, when we were all on the ground and our pistols lay there in a pile beside the coach wheels. “Now get in line, there, quick. and face this way. Keep your hands above vour heads, don’t move: keep your mouths shut or you'll know how scon a man can go plumb to hell.”” “We got in line facing our commander in a moment, and none us could extend his hands quite high enough, ““Now u young feillow with the monkey whiskers,” said the highwayman, ‘you just shell out there where you stand. Turn your pockets inside out so me and my pards can see you're dealing fair. That’s right. Now, while me and my puards keep you in gun range, you search that next man, turn his pockets out. K(—rl\» your hands up high, gents, and ve trouble. Don't speak.’ “In a few minutes that seemed like ages of an awful silence, ench r arched, and we all stood there in a row, with our p turned out and flapping In the morning breeze, our hands a full foot above our heads and a small pile of wal watches, little pocket leather and cloth bags of coin lay at the feet of the young man of our n compelled {o search his companions. d he, as the last of us had got back ts, weaponless and moneyless, ‘you can brag ’e béen held up by a single-handed man in the profesh. 1 don’t mind telling you that I'm all 2lone to-day, and that I n your money awful bad. Tell them Tomb- stone fellers that Dan Elkins has got a new trick in his were whipped up and the last we saw of Elkins he stood there on th big bowlder, keeping his 11 on us until w othill road a mile I trink the rascal must have got $1000 that day. e, we did not y much mgoney on our persons in ys when there was danger of highw robbery. Not one of us in the coach so much as spoke for several miles, and then we talked of everything but stage robbing and of how easy it is for a lot of passengers to assert their rights if they only want to.” During the winter of 1879 and 1880 the recklessness and bravado of Elkins and Wilbur became unbearable, and ¥(~(:ple begak to see that the stage robberies were hurting he name of Arizona, so an unusuai effort was made to get the raccals. An extra reward for their capture was offered, and two or three detectives from Los Angeles, Cal., began work. Several half-breed Apache and Indlan trailers were hired, and after a few weeks the trall to the bandits was found, “We're trapped! We're trapped!” shouted Elkins, as he jumped from his couch of leaves and saw the horsemen encircling his hiding place. In a seccnd he and Wilbur were behind two great oaks and were prepared to fight for their lives. They forgot the Indians at their rear, and no sooner had they turned thelr faces toward the advancing posse than they were shot dead in the back by the Apache traflers. e that if the men had d to tell There is good reason to b been captured alive they might ha: where they had hidden the money and goid, for no one th they spent more than a sn Both the been indu that, living ali part of their ill-gotten robbers were buried where they were kil there are people who go out from I while to the scene of the old camp of HIkins ur in the hope of finding the secret storehoura of stolen riches among the bowlders and foot) surround the spot. BRRRURIVBLK TRERRNSR IEUTENANT LAYTON had a friend, and the friend had peculiarities. One of the peculiarities was an absorbing love of getting into debt and con- sequent kite-flying. It's as easy to get into debt In India as it is to get into sunshine. He was known by the cheerful name of “Gayety.” ‘With Lieutenant Layton's name on the back of a note and his friends on the face of it, it was an easy hunt to stalk a Marwarie money lender with cash enough to dis- count if. Jut that transaction didn’t really help them ve: much; it tided the friend over settling day after the Bu galoo races, but it didn’t provide the ways and means against settling day with the Marwarie. “It's a devil of a hole that we're in,” mused Layton, as he flick2d the dry grass with his stick. “Gayety can't raise the wind, not a pice of it, to pay that blood-sucking Marwarie, and he'll be down on me for his pound of flesh iike an Afghan Ghs 1 wouldn't care, only poor old Nell will have to walt till God knows when—walit till never-day, 1 fancy—for the Infernal thing will break me, too.” He threw up his head and listened. Something was pounding the turf behind him on the course. It was not the mixed excited, shuffle of ekka ponies; it was the clean, owerful stroke of thoroughbred hoofs, strong horses Eunms ng the sod in eager gallop—hls racing ear knew that. “By Jove, it's & trial!” he muttered. K }“,mgflld blurred mass gliding along in the moon- Hght on the de of t-h‘; course. He quickened his pace and drew up in the shadow of the lime-plastered grand M._md . Two horses were hugging each other like twins; behind, & dozen lengthy beaton SRC gaiioped something that had been put in to make the running. As they smashed past Layton one, a big bay, shot out as though the jockey had just le& his head go, and swung between the “finish post” and the judges’ stand a clean len, in front of his mate. t was pure sport that made Layton take so much in- terest in the dasi to that time. ““The bay oould have galloped over the other fellow at any time,” he thought. T wonder who he belongs to?” Just ther. a high-pitched, drawling voice came up to There could be no mistak- om one end to the other him from one of the two men. ing it. That voice was known of the nilitary racing world of India—it belonged to Cap- tain Fra rhk ) handicap, th eK don't emother him with, weight. beatt mm( 'mdhJl ng to othert® ' the Layton hur- ried away, hils brain in a whirl. He was like a man who had picked up a dia- mond of great value and was afraid of finding the owner. It was all %lle a x;) enough. he bay was Frank yo He remember- ed the horse perfectly now. FrankJohnson ‘was one of the cleverest rac- ing men in In- dia. His knowl- free hand at the g?m:dhf“l'lago;::Hownrd ran plump against him, and, throw mission_in the ing him to the ground, held him there Jnih Hussars. - with one foot while:he emptied two revol- satisfied him vers Into his head and chest. that Zigzag was ERRR RS AR T R AR R R AR TR R R Won a Fortune in Spite of H A Story of the Race Track. . R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R A R R R NWRURE R RS imsglf. RuURRRUVRRBRS good enough for the ‘“‘open handicap, very little doubt about it whatever. ffll,'!un realized what it meant. It was the very softest n a shap. h this knowledge he could back the horse for more than enough to pay off Gayety’s debts with the Mar rie. But it would be hardly honorable toward Johnson. He had blundered upon’ the captain’s secret, almost stolen it; he could scarcely do it. And then, on the other hand, the greasy, covetous face of the money lender peered at him from the thick folds of a peepul tree, and sneeringly asked why the sahib’s signed notes they could not pay. It wus the next morning Frank Johnson was walking home {rom the course, after having seen his string exer- cised, when he was stopped by one Harvey, trainer to the Rajah of Jagnat. ““Good mornin’, Meester Johnson,” began Harvey; and in his manner was much of the I've-got-something-behind- all-this style. “What is it, Harvey?” said Johnson, scenting the something at once. ©“Well, sir, you know Simpkin, don’t you?” “Is he any ‘good?” asked Johnson. ‘‘He's never done anything yet. “That's hall right, sir,” answered the trainer with a Wwink, “hand "e’s in the big 'andicap 'ere, the same race as your Zig=ag's in.”’ ‘“Well?" queried Johnson. “The 'andicapper don’t know much about ’im ‘ere, a:?;mlr you b'a‘ppene% tr'al be hn;ywhfire near :hen 8 was bein’ made hup, and could get a tidy welght hon hh}?‘ we could land the stuff.” a5 3 s iWhat weight'll do you?”’ asked the owner of i 3 elgr‘:‘tHfi%mr"% hundeg elgm1 séon; ;evan &oundu. q)l‘fi: e four pounds on 'is back he coul llop rij aw?vhxram the hothers.” S en Earvey explained to the captain all about the trials Simpkin had given them down gt Jugnaut; how he had beaten horses that quite outclassed = Zi , until Johnson saw that with a llght ‘welght on his {.naéi there ut Simpkin. theré could be sir, the certalnly vas nothing in it He knew that Zigzag on his past form would certainly not get leas than nine stone seven pounds in the handicap, perhaps ten stone. This was a game after his own heart. They could make a coup with Simpkin, and Zigzag would have less Wel§llt another time. ohnson knew that three officers were framing the handicaps that véry morning in Mal Jim’s bungalow, He didn't quite know how he was going to get a hand in the business; but if he could make any excuss to get in among them something was pretty sure to turn up. ‘When he stepped tp on the veranda_the rougF\ dark green door of the hun?’a.low was closed. He gave a knock and shoved it abruptly open and walked In, pretending to be mightily surprised at finding anybody but his friend Maj Jim there, “I say, you fellows, exclalmed one of the others, as the captain sipped lelsurely at his whisky and soda, Johnson likely knows something about this Simplkin they’ve sent up from Jagnat. He knows every gee-gee in the country. “Yes,” pdded the majo: 'what about this brute Har- vey has entered for Jagnat? We've got none of his per- formances to go on.” . “Oh, that crock,” said the captain, with fine scorn; “‘stick a postage stamp on his back—shove him in at any- thing you lfke, seven stone ten poun#s. Good morning, gentelemsn,” he added, as he set his glass down an gpetkle'(_i the door.. “Don’t put a load of bricks on Zigzag’s ac To make the good thing a greater certainty, Johnson let the trairer have his own jockey. Richmond, for Simp- kin, and determined to ride Zigzag himseif. If the game had been Zigzag, this would not have mat- ;erdeld so very much, for he was one of the best riders in ndia. That the ownet was riding Zigzag confirmed Layton in his determipation to have a plunge on the horse, At the lotteries, the night before the race, Layton bought Ziczag in the first lottery. hen the secretary asked if the owner claimed any- thln&!.’ohnson answered, “Nothing, thanks.” “‘He’ll ccme to me after it's all over,” thought Layton, “and ask for a half throughout. He knows I have to give it to him, too. It wouldn’t be safe to have his horse running with none of the owner’s money on."” ‘When Simpkin was sold Johnson bought him through another party. And so it was through every lottery, and there wers many of them, for the handicap was a big betting race with eight hcrses in It. i Layton bought Zigzag steadily every time, and John- son’s agent took S|mgkin. fteen minutes before the race no offer had come from Johnson to take a share in Zigzag's chances. Tha suspense was too great for Layton. | much out of Zigzag to make the runni He went to the little dressing room, just under the stand, : here Johnson was putting on his slim riding boots and colors. ““See heére, Frank,” he said, “I've got Zigzag in every , and I stand to win a big pot over him. Do you want any of it? You haven't taken a bit of it yet.” Johnson was noted for two things—his superb riding and his exquisite cynical humor. 5 \‘\\ 0 the merry Hades told you to back my horse?” he asked. “I backed him because I thought he could win, and you were riding him,” answered Layton, coloring slightly. ““Well, he hasn’t the ghost of a chance,” Johnson, tightening the strings i b acing cap, “and I don’t want a bit of him in anything. He hasn't a thousand-to-one chance.” dumfounded. t win,” he said, “I shall coms a o er.”” he called sharply, “‘you witness this bet. e pees against Zigzag. If the horse wins_he pays me 5000, lé) ;le pay That’s a clear under- standing, isn't it?” ) ¥4 e an- swered Layton, cheerfully. “It's the only bet I've got on my mount,” added Johnson, “and it's just throwing ten rupees in the sea.” “They’re off!" went up from the d stand in a hoarse cry, and glasses were leveled at the bright splashes of col- or twisting in and out, as the eight horses scrambled for places. | A black jack- et, with red and yellow sleeves, shot to the front {mmedi- 2 ately. % N ‘“Zigzag In {)‘;gh}eggé'{;{;"“;gj They forgot the Apache trailers behind them and and were shot dead by them. his Flasses with his handkerchief, and focussed them on the eader of the rushing troop. He could see the red and yellow quartered cap leaning far over the Y}lmers of the big bay. TYes, it was Zigzag. Over on the horses Johnson and Dick were riding so close together that they couid speak n short, gasping Wnr%shils the ‘ivlnd cl;t at their br[eha!h. ree furlongs from home they were together, nose and‘,ngse—slmpklél }}:fld drOPr‘E({lmhack ?. hcaflAg ohnson coul ear something closing u tromrhehlndm & 5. 4. “rn e e “Go on, Dick!” he gasped. “I'll pull back y up next the rail.” A Biok hélpl 2 SRt xon “I can't,” answere ck helplessly, ¢ % any. faster; T'm dcne for.” g Grisanten A great rage came into the heart of the in. This was the “Bute thing” they hAd pat Mo ag 2Ptaln. This quarter of a mile from the finish . and the others closing up on them; already a chestnut head 2 n tl auaters of Bimpiin, O awiel on e Zigzag weas still full of running, fig] Slowly, inch by inch, the P T nose, was dt Dicic's girths now. “I'm aepe,” he heard Dick say again, and then he gripped the saddle with his knees and. rode for Layton's 5000 rupees. 3 A furiong from home he was clear of Simpkin, but the chestnut was still there, lapped on his quarters now, and beside the chestnut, 6n the outside, was an iron-gray, coming very fast, two. How he cursed the folly that had his heasl, chestnut was creeping up; hld made him take sc g for Simpkin. £ the gallant old horse would only last home the 5000 rupees would pay his losses. In the stand the cry of ““Zigzag wins!” went up, as the horses clung to each other up the straight. Layton was tugging at his blonde mustache, and even Gayety's face was solemn and still as he realized what that struggle meant to the two of them—meant more to them than to all the others in the stand together. Not only the money, but honor—life itself at stake. As they flashed past the stand, Zigzag's big bony head, with its wide red nostrils, was still in front. : nd so they caught the judge’s eye. The stout heart of the ga\lant horse, and the cool head of the steel-nerved rider had won the race that was all but thfown away. (Copyright, 1898, by W. A, Fraser.) .