: Cato the creeper; or The demon of Dead-Man's Forest by Dewey Frederick H - Detective and mystery stories; African Americans Fiction; Frontier and pioneer life Fiction; Rescues Fiction; Abduction Fiction; Dime novels; Arkansas Fiction; Unrequited love Ficti

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hen a tiger. If he laughed pleasantly he was in high spirits and his companions felt easy and secure. But that was seldom.

He regarded his men quietly, then looked toward an object, prostrate, a few yards away, and smiled quietly. Then he became demure, then said with a pleasant laugh:

"Well, boys, who is winner? Is anybody bankrupt?"

"Spades trumps!" vociferated a wiry fellow who had been regarding his captain anxiously. He had slightly offended him the day before. His face grew joyful, and as he swept his winnings between his knees, he cried:

"Hurrah fur Cap'n Downing, boys! three and a tiger!"

The cheers were given lustily. Downing bowed with a look of gratification.

"Thank you, boys," he said.

Then he turned to Cato.

"There is your job. Bury that villain!"

He turned, and followed by Fink, walked to his cabin, entered it, and closed the door. The men were hilarious.

He had pointed toward the prostrate object. Cato walked up to it curiously. What was his horror at seeing the body of Bill Jameson, better known as Fighting Jim, dead at his feet.

A bullet-hole was in his forehead, and in his stiffened hand was a long knife. The sinister countenance was ghastly and cold, and the stream of blood from the hole had congealed on his face. He was quite dead.

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