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N0 444 32,50 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams, l'rloe. V01 
I I I I

D ‘elr- No. 95‘ “VILLIAM ST. an YuIcK. ’1‘” 0""‘3'

 

 

 

 

 

“Loan BLESS US, YOUNG mama, YOU’LL BE TAKE§756£E15

 

i p Moscow to Siherigi ‘

I

 

Gaul Blark’s Dead-Sal; ,

FROM MOSCOW T0 SIBERIA.
A Yankee Boy to the Rescue.

. BY CHARLES MORRIS,
AUTHOR OF “ THE YOUNG NIHILIST.” “ THE ons-
’ nnr BOVER,” “ DICK, THE STOWAWAY,”
mo, mo.

CHAPTER I.

r ’  LOCKED IN A CITY.

11‘ is the antique city of Moscow, the ancient
oapital of the great empire of Russia, yet look-
ing as youn to-day as it it were not heavy with
its weight 0 centuries. It is the city into which
Napoleon marched with his mighty army, and

‘ from which he was driven by the mightier force

of fire, that reduced the old capital of Russia. to
ashes, and drove back the proud troops of
France to perish in the snows of a Russian
winter. ‘ - .

No trace of this grand conflagration remains
to—day. The cit has risen again from its ashes,
and is as pron and wide-spreading as of yore.
In fact Moscow hasbeen many times baptized

in fire. Historians tell' of no less than seven

. complete destructions bv fire, mostly the work

’ , of victorious enemies. , Yet the old city will not
‘ stay destroyed. It has always grown again in
,a nobler form, and today no ice owns n foot of

, Russiansbil.

Such were the thoughts that passed through
the mind of Clark Cloverly, as he stood at the
window of a house that looked out on the white
stone walls and green roofs of Moscow, and
noted the glittering cupoles that rose ever -
where from the green verdure of the bee -

ound.

‘ grThe day was soft and balmy. No trace of the
thick ice and deep snows of the Russian winter
remained. Summer was upon the loud. and the
warm sun had covared the whole soil witha
wonderful-profusion of vegetation.

It was now after the hour at sunset in more
southern climes, and yet the sun poured its
bright beams across the roofs. For two hours

et it would hold the empire of the skies. As

, E the mldwinter of northern Russia, if one sits

, long at dinner he will findthe sun, which rose

‘ as he sat down, goingI to bed as he gets up, so in

r midsummer there is hardly any night, and the

., "gun shines the greater part of the twenty-four

' / ours.

But little of this was in the mind of the young
American, as he looked impa ieotly into the

» street below, and final] left the window with a

- gesture or vexation an strode hastily across the
room. ‘

“I wonder if he’s waiting till they make it?”
he grumbled. “ Or if he s bought a. team of
cows and is waiting for them to ow upto

r horses? It’s elwayethe may with hat sweet-

‘ scented Paton If there’s t e‘chap livin that
con discount him at taking it easy I’d ike to
have the follow to show around in acircus.

 

He’d beat the great ple—hiter hollow for draw-

iu ." -

ins grumbling was interrupted by the sound
of heavy steps outside, and in a minute after a.
person entered the room who seemed to be the
individual for .whom Clark was impatientl
waiting. He was evidently a Russian, a tal ,
lank fellow, with high cheek-bones, and little
twmkling e on, while his hair was of a. brick-'
dust red. here was somethin so good~nat1rred
about the follow that one coul not keep angry
with him, yet below it all could be seen an un.
dencurrent of shrewdness, which showed that
Peter was not as simple as he looked.

“ You confounded, red—headed sinner, where
have you been 5110023135?” ejaculated Clark.
“ You ve been gone a 3 three hours on a hnlfw
hour’s. '01). And back again without hoot or
axle, l’ 1 bet a monkey.”

“ Yes,” answered Peter stolidly, as be seated
himself, and took out a red handkerchief of the
fine of a‘taIiEleclggh to wipe the ISZweat from his

row. IS ‘u as on, so , 1‘. Clark.”

" The deuce it is?” glad (gal-k
Inth as it he thought of shaking

him. “ But

«there's no use shaking that mutton-head,” he

continued. “ It would onlgemuddle his brains
worse. What have you on at, you ninny?
Where is the team?” ,.

“ It will be here in two hours,” answered
Peter, as he continued to mop his brow. '

“Two hours! And I ought to be twenty miles
from Moscow at this minute! Do you think I .
Want to travel at midnight, you porpoise?

,“ Any sensible man would,” grantengeter,
“instead of traveling in this searcher." r

Clark now shook the stolid fellow in earnest, V
quite out of patience with his seeming stupidity. .

“,I must be away, I tell you!” he shouted 1n .
his ear. “ I am expecting evory minute orders w
from St. Petersburg to stop me. It they nab
me back I go! Then I’m bound for Siberia, you
jackauapes, and you’re working to keep me here
till I am snatched by the Government oflioers.”

“ Bound for Siberia?” repeated Peter.

“ Yesl Sure to o.” \. i ,

“ Only keep quie and you’ll go there at the
em eror’s 9 use, that’s all.” , ,

ark con] not help laughing at this. Peter
looked so solemn and earnest.

“ Guess I don’t want to put the emperor to the
expense of sending me there as a prisoner. And
now. let out, old stupid. What have you been,
at? ' ,u 5 ,

Peter alowl y rose and put away his dare
yard of red handkerchief. He then look 'was
rily around him and approached Clark w1th a,
meaning look. he spoke in a gum-chad tone on

coming near. r
“It is too late, Mr. Clark. You cannot carry

.it out.”

“ What’s the reason I caniti” , . _

“ Because, the orders have em. The barri-
ers are guarded. You 'can not leave Moscow.”

“ The deuoel” whistled Clark. “ What put
that bee in your bonnet? It’s not true!”

“ Isn’t iti Then you take a. carriage and try
your luck. I have a friend in the Government ',
office. He has gated me in the business. ‘Yo’u‘ » ,
won’t be ,distur d Just now. it you keep quiet, .

 

, with a. move- ‘ "

 

Moscow to Siberia. 8

 

But you will be arrested it you attempt toleavo
Moscow” . .

“ I’ll be hanged if I won’t leave it then!” cried
Clark in a rage. “ Blast such a country asthls,
where a chap can’t go where he wants, and do
what he wants! I tell ou I’m going to leave
this mess old town, an that instanter!”

“ Howl ’ asked Peter with a stu id look.

“ How! I’ll tell you how.- will—” He
hesitated, with a look of rplexity, while a
queer expression came into eter’s eyes. Peter
never laughed, but he seemed to be very near it.

“How will I do it? What are you good for,
if you can’t tell me?"

eter again looked around him, went to the
door and peeped out, then returned and spoke
more cautiously than ever.

“ You can not go by carriage."

“ Do you su pose I don’t see that, dummy?"

“But it wilfbe dark in an hour. You can
slip out on foot. I will show you a way. Hush!
don’t let a word he overheard, or it will go hard
with us. You must keep west to the coachin
house on the Kasan road. When you reac
there hide close in the woods till daybreak.”

“ That’s very neat,” answered Clark. “ But I
don’t fancy going to Siberia on foot. And I
can’t see what glood is to come of my playmg
squirrel in your ussian woods.”

“ Hush! Walls have ears,” and Peter looked
about him in alarm. “I’ll tell you, Mr. Clark.
You can’t drive out of Moscow, but I can. Be
on the lookout in the woods, and you’ll see me
before the dew is off the daisies.”

“ And then hey for Siberia!” cried Clark,
without a thought of caution. “ Why you’re a
jewel, Peter! A regular rough diamond! But
they know that you’re my man. They Will
suspect.”

"I wasn‘t tool enough to let them know,”
answered the shrewd Muscovite. “ You get
ready. Twu hours from now. Leave your
baggage for me. I will go and see if the track
is clear.”

Peter left the room. Clark remained alone,
looking after him with a pleased expression.

“ Hang me, if there isn’t more brains in
Peter's skull then shows on the outsidel. The
rascal has always proved himself sharp in an
emergency, stupid as he looks. By Jupiter, I’m
not going to be stopped by the Russian em-
peror or any of his officers if there’s a ghost of a.
chance. I showed them the grit ot aYankee
boy last winter in St. Petersburg. We'll let
them see that the Young Nihilist, as they called
me, isn’t at the end of his ro yet. There’s

re Yankee tricks in my bag t an these thick-
E‘iined Museovites have dreamed of.”

He began a busy bustle of preparation.
There was a long and perilous journey before
him. Some necessary things must be taken,
but it would not do to overload himself. He

had some essential things for Peter, and

k little on his person except a money-hag,
which he belted securely around him beneath
his clothes. A formidable-looking document,
on parchment, was also secured.

“ Lucky I managed to get this,” he muttered,
with a grim smile. “ It’s better than a barrel
full of gold. A passport for every part of Sibe-
ria. Let me once set on the road. and there's

 

no soul of them can go back on this royal docu-
ment, with the imperial seal.”

He thrust it into a secure inner pocket, which
he tightly fastened.

“ Lie there, old chap. A money~belt is noth-
ing alongside of you. And now, what next?
Don’t want much clothes this weather, that’s
one com fort.”

When Peter re-entered, an hour and more
afterward, Clark had finished his preparations,
and was seated b the window smoking, ap-
parently aseasy in is mind as though he were in

llS father’s house in New York, and had noth-
ing moreimportant before him than a. walk to
the Battery.

“How’s the weather, Peter my lovely? All
serene, eh?”

“Dark,” answered Peter, meanineg, point-
ing to the Window. “ It’s a black night. That
just suits.”

“ Ay, ay! Is all in train?”

“Look out the window,” answered Peter
wurningly, “down yonder, b r the street lamp.
Doyou see a fellow with a. black cotton and a.
Tartar cap?”

“ 1 just saw such a chap pass.
dark now. Who is he!”

“ A police spy. You are watched.”

“The hokey am! That’s comfortable! And
what's in your pie, Peter?”

“ Come with me.__ We will fool him.
a thing or two."

“ I am glad to hear it,” answered Clark sar-
castically. “ I’ve been sometimes of the nonion
that you didn’t. But old Sam's never as black
as he is painted. Let’s get, Peter my lad!”

Peter led the way, followed closely by his
young master. He emerged with great caution
from a rear door of the house, motioning Clark
to keep back.

He disappeared in the darkness. Five min-
utes elapsed. The Yankee boy was just be-
ginning to grow impatient when Peter reap-
peared, signaling him to follow.

“ Not a word!" warned the cautious Russian.
“ The coast is clear. Follow.”

Clark silently obeyed. A minute or two
brought them into a rear street, in which no
light shone. They made their way carefully
through the gloom.

Peter led on, seeking the darkest byways.
Occasionally they were forced to emerge into a
lighted street, but they quickly plunged again
into some dark alley or passageway. It seemed
to the American boy that they had journeyed
for several miles in this winding method. He
now !ound that the houses were growing thin-
ner and the trees much denser.

“ We are in the suburbs?" he asked.

“ Yes. A few minutes more— Hush! By
St. Paul, here comes the night patrol! This
wg, master. Quick I”

lark hastened after his nimble footste .
The tramp of the patrol, and the gleam of its
lights were now distinctly visible. The two
in itives plunged into a narrow dark alley.

n a minute they reached its lower extremity.
It was a blind alley, e cul-de-sae, as the French
call it. A harsh exclamation came from the
young American’s lihpss.

“ You booby! '1‘ ill sweet trap."

He is in the

I know

  

C Moscow to Sibel-ll.

 

‘Lflushi They come. A whisper will betray
us.
The patrol came on. To the dismay of the
fugitives they halted at the mouth of the alle
and threw the light of a lantern up its dar
length. ~ ,

“ Come,” cried the harsh voice of the leader.
“It won’t do, good fellows! I‘ve got my eye
on you. Stir out now, lively.”

Clark growled inwardly. Here was a pretty
kettle of fish.

 

CHAPTER. II.

TRACKING THROUGH THE DARK.

IT was a thrilling moment. The patrolman
took a step into the alley, and repeated his de-
mand. in a blustering voice.

“ It’s all up,” said the American boy, to him—
self with bitter vexation. “ The dog’s dead
before he’s had time for a hark. Might as well
fling up the'sponge decently.”

He was on the point of advancing and de-
livering himself up as a prisoner, but Peter took
a strong hold on his coat-tail and pulled him
down. into a crouching position.

“ Keep uiet, master,‘ he whispered. “ Don’t
sell yourse l! for a red herring."

here they were tho light of the lantern

failed to reach. Only very keen eyes can

have distinguished them in the gloom. They
waited in nervous silence.
“Stay where you are then, if you like it

I better,” cried the soldier again, while a loud
{laugh from his lips was echoed by his com-

panions.

A few minutes’ chatting a d laughing suc-
ceeded, during which the fugit ves remained in
uneasy doubt. Then the order to march was
given, and with clanking arms they strode

way. '
Clark looked questioningl y at his companion.
“What does 1t mean, anyhow? Is that the
wa they do things in Russia?”

‘ He did at see us," anSWered Peter. “It was
only one of his jokes.”

“ The deuce it Wasl Then all I’ve got to say
isthat it’s a stupid style of joking to scare a
chap out of six ears’ growth. Just look at my

‘ hair Peter, nnr see if it hasn’t turned white.”

“it looks black,” answered Peter in 'stolid

avit .

“ Soywould a white cat in this darkness. Stir

our stumps, my lively. Let’s get out of this
galore any more of your Russian jokers come
along. The next one will dive in here like a cat

_ after a mouse: Pe out, Peter, and if you hide

me in another blin alley I’ll murder you, and
make kid gloves out of our hide.”

Peter hurried forwar at this startling threat,
followed closely by his reckless young master.

.In the locality which they had now ained the

street lamps Were far a art. and the r way led
mostly through dense g 00m. Keeping a sharp
eye open for the patrol they continued their
course, through street after street, the houses
constantly growing thinner. Peter seemed to
be well acquainted with the locality, for he led
onward as directly as though it were open day-
li ht. .

e stopped atlenxth. They seemed to be in

 

open country. The few stars in the sky showed
only a broad, dark level, lost under a thick cur-
tain of gloom. .

“We are out of the town now,” remarked
Peter, with his habitual caution. “Do you see
that white line, 01! there to the loft?” _

“I see something like a charcoal mark on a
nigger’s hide. I wouldn’t like to call it white."

“ That’s the road you’re to follow,” continued
Peter. “Keep it in sight; but make your way
through the fields till you are a mile or two out.
And when you reach the coaching station, slip
around it. Orders ma have been sent out.”

“Ay, ayl”answere Clark, ga ly. “I’ve a
notion we’ll show them our mett 3, Peter. I’ll
look for you before the dew is up, my sun-
flower.”

“ Don’t get out of sorts waiting,” returned the
cautious Russian. “1 may have trouble. But
1 will come.”

“ All right. Dive back, and I’ll dive on.
Good luck and good sgeed, my hearty. You'll
do them, Peter. You ave develo ed a remark-
able sharpness. And see here! on’t forget to
put some grub in the carriage. I ex t to be
ready to eat an elephant after my nig t’s walk.
You might fetch along a. crowbar for a tooth-
pick 50 1 can pick in teeth of the bones.” ,

“ I will obs ,” re oincd Peter, as quietly as if
he took this are. serious request. “Good-by,
master. Don’t get scared.”

“Scared, you boob i What do you take me
for? I wasn’t born n a Yankee woods to be
scared by a Russian owl. Get away with you
now, and be sharp."

Clark moved on with a lively step into the
darkness. Peter followed him with his eyes
until he disappeared in the gloom. He then
shook his head doubtfully, and turned back
toward the town. Evidently he was not sure

f the success of Clark’s enterprise, or in favor
f its character.

The young man continued his course, with the

active step of youth. To his right was theroad

which Peter had indicated, a mere line of lighter ,

shadow in the general gloom. OR to the left
lay a yet darker line, in which the stars seemed
repeated. Clark recognized it at a glance. It
was the Moskva, the small river on which
Moscow is situated, and from which it gets its
name. v

“Between river and road I can’t easily go
astray,” he muttered. “I'll get nabbed in t 0
road and drowned in the river, so I fancy the
middle track is the safest.”

The fields over which he was walking seemed
cultivated. Now he found himself in a potato-
patch, now in a field of buckwheat, now in a
pasture meadow. He could not well tell one
from another, however, except from the vary-
ing difliculty of progress. Occasionally a farm-
house with outbulldin appeared as a black
mass in the general dar ness. These be avoided,
but not sumcieutlzato escdbo the quick senses
of some wide~aw curs, that started a lively
yelping.

' Wouldn’t I like a chance to kick those nois
vagabondsl” he muttered in an angry tone. “T
bet high l'd burst their drum-s Wonder

if I can’t take the high-road now and get out of

these only fields.”

\

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Moscow to Siberia. i 6

 

He was now a mile or two from the city, and
there seemed no further need of excessive cau-
tion. He made his way to the roadside and
lleapied the fence that separated it from the farm

an s.

The road was entirely deserted. The sky had
no .v cleared somewhat. and was glittering with
stars. It was easy to follow the path which led
along the carriageway. Clark advanced at a
swinging pace. He was young, fresh and
aliply. A few miles to him were a mere bega-

e.

The night was well advanced when he arrived
within sight of the lights of the coaching~house
of which eter had spoken, about ten miles out
from the city.

It was necessary now to be very cautious if he
wanted to escape detection. The sharp Yankee

outh knew enough of Russian ways to know

his. But lest our reader many not have the same
knowled Is, a short description or certain Rus-
sian habitat is desirable.

It is the custom, at some posting villages, to:
the owners of the coach horses to send out nigh:-
watchmen along the roads. These lookouts keep
on duty all night, even in the winter, being
wrapped in thick cloaks to protect them from

i the cold. Their quick ears catch the bells of the

postchaise, or the sound’ of wheels and boots,
when they are yet distant. Word is instantly
conveyed to the village, and by the time the car-
riage arrives horses are ready for its further
cenveyance.

If the American bo should come across one
of these fellows. andi orders had been issued
for his arrest, it might not be so comfortable.
He turned short from the road and made his
way across the fields toward the river, deter-
mined to give the village a wide berth. ‘

A halt-hour’s stumbling over clods and stub-
ble and through harvest field brought him well
around the villa e. The light had now consid-
erably incre A faint glow appeared on
the northeast sky. Dawn was drawing near.

He looked in uiringly around him. A dark
mass, which h for some time been dimly visi-
ble before him, was new plainly seen to be a

lace of woodland. It was not far 03, and he

astened toward it. It must be the wood of
which Peter had spoken.
Reaching the edge of the timber, the young

. Yankee plunged into it, breaking through the

under owth that bordered it. A few ste
took h m well out of sight into the woodland.‘
He seated himself on the trunk of a fallen treea
short distance be end the ed 8 of the forest.

“ Up to the no b, so far,’ he said to himself,
as he rested after his ion and tiresome walk.
“That’s my share of the iob. It’s Peter’s turn
now. If he don‘t bring t e vehicle I’ve got to
up and dig again. I can hirea team somewhere
a ong the turnpike, and I’m not going to peg
hack to Moscow like a dog with his tail between
his leg while there‘s a chance left.”

The l ght in the east gradually increased. Day
was approaching. A rosy flush covered the
sky. was the first step toward the long sum-

mer twilight of the North. He continued lost ‘

in deep thought while the minutes slipped slow-

b .
[y‘immmoetneonlewouldcallmeafoolfi

r

*easy don’t hurry up.

 

he remarked. “What is this Ivan Stretzlitz to
me? they would ask. He saved my life; but
that don’t go far with folks nowadays. He’s
been sent to Siberia to work in the Russian
mines, and I’m going to run him .03 if it’s in the
wood. Maybe ’m only a young foo? but it’s
my notion of what a chap ought todo, anyway.
Tit for tat is good logic. It is a risky adven-
ture, though. There’s no humbug with these
Russians. If they catch me running of! a pris—
oner my goose is cooked. But I don’t care a fig
for that. The man that saved my life is in a
Siberian nine, and I’ll give the job of getting
him out a shake, it I go under for it.”

His mouth closed with a. sharpness that
showed he meant business. Clark was full of
resolution, and was hard to stop when his mind
was made up. His father and sister had tried
hard to dissuade him from his project. Yet
the were in sympathy with it, and had done
not ing to hinder his departure. It was some
inklin of his project that had leaked out that
cause this present trouble.

It had come to the ears of the Government
oficers in St. Petersburg that the American
youth was off to Siberia with the intention to
rescue a prisoner. Orders to prevent his loam
ing Moscow, or to follow and arrest him if he
had left, were at once telegraphed on.  '

“ There’s no telegraph line this way,” said the
adventurer, as he rose and made his way
through the forest. “If they catch me it wil
have to be by hard riding. Can’t run me down
by lightning.”

The wood was more easily traversed in its
central portions. It was of oak timber, great
knohbed trunks some of which seemed to he
centuries old. A few minutes’ walk brought
him to the roadside. It was here very solitary
and lonely. Not a person came in sight, nor a
vehicle passed, though he waited for more than
an hour.

“Folks have ot to sleep into the daylight
here,” he remar ed. “The nightis too short
for a good snooze. But I wonder what in the
blues keeps Peter? I! he lets himself he stop-
ped I’ll feel like cropping his ears.”

He had to wonder a good while yet. Several
hours passed and no Peter appeared. The sun
climbed well up into the sky. The country
was now wide awake. The lowing of cattle could
be heard in the distance. There came the crack
of the hushandman’s whip, and his cheering cry
to his horses. Laborers passed along the road.
Now and then a vehicle rattled by. Clark
viewed all this from his lurking‘place behind a
clum 01 bushes. His impatience grew moment~
ly. is exertions had made him hungry, too,
and he wanted a breakfast lunch as much as he
wanted Peter. The passing minutes seemed
loaded with lead.

The weary youth imagined all sorts of disas—
ters. He walked impatiently under the shad-
ows of the, trees, and kicked toad-stools into
the air to vent his spite.

“I’ll starve, I know I will, if oldelow-and-
I’ll be like one of the
babes in the woods, and have the i'obins cover
me u ) with leaves. It Peter d0n’t show his
mug n an hear more I‘ll peg out. Haven’t got
a lifetime to spare waiting on him.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Moscow to Siberia.

 

  

The hour was not half up before the sound of
a horse‘bell recalled him to his lookout spot.
Quickly he came near. The trend of horses was
audible. In a few minutes a light carriage,
drawn by three horses, shot around a turn in
the road. Their driver drew them up to a slow
face, while he lo‘oked anxiously to right and

eft. One glance was enough for Clark. It was
the lagging Peter. He sprung briskly out into
the road.

“ Hil old jolly-go-eos-y, here’s your fare. On
hand at last, ehi I’m wasted to a skeletn
waiting. Fork over that lunch instnuter. I
must get my breakfast before I can take a step
more.”

“ Mr. Clark i” cried Peter in a tone of relief.
“Jump in quickly! There is not a minute!
You can eat on the rondl”

“ What dofyou moan?" asked Clark.

“1 am pursued, Irtell you! I was suspected
after I got past the barrier. The officers called
me, but I wouldn’t stop. They are after me,
hot foot. Jump in quick. Every minute
counts. The are not far behind.”

Clark at t is startling nows sprun hastily
into the carriage, his hunger all forgot n.

“ Drive on like blazes!” he cried.

- A sharp call from Peter to his homes and
,,away they flew at top pace along the dusty
road and under the woodland shadows

CHAPTER 111.
A HOT CHASE ON A STRANGE ROAD.

THE earrings in which Clark found himself
was a. culiar one. of a. fashion not to be found
out 0 Russia. It hung between four low
wheels, the carriage bottom almost touching
roadbed. The springs were very stiff, so that
traveling was a joltin way of getting along.
The traveler was seate on t ie carriage bottom
and could save his bones only by thick cushions,
wihich were used as a seat byrday and a bed by
n t. ‘

his vehicle was drawn by three horses, one
in the shafts and one running free on each side.
A strong wooden how was fastened to the ends
of the shafts, and curved above the horse’s
neck. A row of bells were hun to this, which
ke t up a constant clung as the orses moved.

There were no traces to the shaft horse, but
the side horses were yoked with bars and
traces. Such was the Russian kibitka, 3 ve
different affair from our idea of a conifortab a
post carriage.

Peter sat on s. perch in front, dressed gnny
in white linen trowsers and a bri ht yellow
jacket, strapped around him with a It.

. No sooner was his employer safely within the
carriage than he set 01! at the full speed of the
horses uttering the wild cries of the Russian
yemschiclc, or post-b0 . “ Padil Padi !" (go
along) he kept yelling n a shrill voice and in a
great variety of tones.
The mottled heroes pricked up their ears and
. tore briskly onward, plunging along the uneven
road until the coach bounde like a foot-boll.
Clark had to hold on with both hands to keep
from being shot upward into the air.
“Are youxsure we are pursued?” he asked.
“ Thege’s a long stretch behind and nothing in
Mt»

 

 

 

" If we get ofl' safe the officers at Moscow will
pa for it, ’ answered Peter. “ They know that
we . Don’t fear but you’ll see the color of their
jackets.”

“ All right. Let them come. Ease up your
horses at little, Peter. Save their wind for a.
burst, if we've got to run. And fork over that
lunch. I’m as hungry as a wolf.”

Peter quietl obeyed. He pulled the horses '

in to 3 etc y trot, while he handed Clark a.
smell lunch-basket which he had provided, well
swollen with its savory contents.

The hun ry young man made the best, break-
fast possib e under the circumstances, holding
on to the jolting vehicle with one hand while he
investigated the do the of the basket with the
other. Peter had one his duty nobly, and a
brace of huge sandwiches of boiled beef and
Russian bread enlivened Clerk for the rest of
the day.

They were now dragging up a long incline,
whose summit was yet some distance ahead.
The homes climbed this bill at a slow trot, under
the skillful hand of their driver.

" The animals look fresh after their run from
Moscow,” remarked Clark.

“ Not much from Moscow,” answered Peter,
with agrin. “I got a relay at the coaching-
house back there. They are as fresh as bees,
and cod for a. long run.” ‘

“ olly for you l” cried Clark.
times the wit in your noddle that I fancied
Peter. Here we are at the top of the slope and
not a sign of those ghosts of pursuers.” ,

t “ Look back,” replied Peter, in a meaning

one.
Clark did so. The road lay long and straight
behind them for more than'a mile. At the
furthest point to which vision reached a car-
riage had justappeared, looking at that distance
as it drawn by mice instead of horses. It was
evidently coming on at a. rapid pace. Clark
looked at it with inquiring eyes. /
“Likely it is onl some travelers like our-
selves,” he remarks - L

“It is a Government carriage, and chasing "

us,” answered Peter shortly.

“How do you know thati”

“ How does a fox know the difference be-
twcen chicken and bacbni I haven’t been a
gemschick for twenty years without learning

ow to use my eyes.”

“Then let out. Here’s a down—hill piece be-
fore us. Shake them out and let them tumble;
we can’t afford to o to sleep now.”

Peter obeyed. is shrill “Padi” stirred the
mettle of the horses. Down the long slope they
started at a. swinging gallop, the ktbitka plung-
ing rou hly behind.

The rst leap of the animals left their pur-‘

suers out of sight, and in a moment they were

on a solitary road again, deserted, so far as up- ‘

peered, by man and beast.

Away they went, with. rattling harness and
ringing hoofs; the loud cries of Peter, which he
kept up in a stead chorus, stirred the horses to
their best paces. he hill was, in parts, rather
steep, and their slungin speed seemed danger—
ous; but the bol driver apt itrup, exciting the
horses to their utmost exertions. >
“ Good for you. my lanai-tr:fl cried Clark

“ There' ten,

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exhilarated by the wild flight. “They won’t
catch us at this pace, that’s flat. Keep them on
the run, Peter; ’11 make it worth your while
If you fling the officers."
Peter shook his head doubtfully. ,
“ The are lighter than we are,” he remarked,
“ and ii ely drive better horses. The officers

‘ alws. s get the best of everything.”

“ hey won’t get the best of me, if I can help
it," answered Clark decidedl . “I’m not going
back to Moscow while a hair olds. These horses
are no slouches. Isn’t there any by-road by
which we can give them the go—by?"

“No; we must keep straight on.”

The ursuing carria s new appeared at the
to of t e slope which t efugitives had recently
is t. The latter had gained considerably in their
down-hill plunge, but it was evident that the
chase was going to be a hot one. In a minute
more a curve in the road broke the line of view,

and the distant carriage was again lost to

si ht.

g.l‘he road was here nearly level. Woodland
rose on each side. It was very warm within the
shadows of the trees, but the horses rattled on
with undiminished speed.

For several miles they continued, without
another view of the partners.

Then they broke into View as before, on the
brow of a hill, outlined against the sky. They
had gained considerably. Not more than a
half-mile now separated the two carriages.
The mice had grown to the size of deer. _

Another straight hand-run for several miles
more, and again the pursuers broke into view,
at a distance of a quarter of a mile. The deer
had become dwarf horses. They were growing
in size at every step.

“They’re running us down,” cried Clark.
"Our beasts are doing their best, but these
chaps drive prime horses. What‘s to bedone,
Peter? You’ve ot a shar brain under your
stupid noddle. ut yourt inking-cap on, and
see what sort of a game you can hammer out.”

“There’s no game,” answered Peter dryly.
“They’ve got the best horses, and the best ul-
wa 9 wins. That’s the end of the game.”

‘ You think so, do you, old stupid! Well, I
don’t. The best wins, I suppose; but it’s the
best head, not the best horse. Push on now.
If you can’t think. out any Russian trick, see if
I can hit upon a. Yankee one.”

Clark lay back on the cushions, deeply cogi-
toting. They had now entered another piece
of woodland, through which the road wound
considerabl . Here and there was a strai ht
stretch, and, the longest of these again revea ed
the pursuers, not three hundred yards distant.
They yelled and signed for the fugitives to stop,
but Peter kept on as stolidly as though he had
not heard or seen them.

“ Theywill be on us in twenty minutes more,”
he remarked, as a turn in the_rond again out of!
the‘ view.

’ _ .“See here, Peter, do you know that you are

alone in this carria oi"
“ Alone?” queriecf I’eter in surprise.
“Yes. You drove out of Moscow alone.
You passed the post-house alone. I haven’t
been seen by those fellows behind. Can’t you

use your arts. and satisfy them that you are

, /

 

still alone! You are sharp enough to work up
some ood story.” "

" at do you mean, sir?” asked the aston-
ished driver. “ Do you think they won’t see
you as soon as they come up?”

“No. Nor my baggage neither. Jerk up
the beasts, my boy.
woods with my ug
and play dummy.”

Peter looked around stupidly, as if the idea
took some time to make its way into his brain.
Then a knowing look came into his twinkling
eyes. He pulled hard on the reins, drawing the
horses to a sober pace. ‘

“ J umpl” he cried. “ There are some bushes."

With a quick swing Clark flu 1g his well-'
packed valise from the carriage. 0 then nim-
bly sprung after it, alighting like a. squirrel on
his feet.

“ Lot out,” he cried to Peter. “You’re light
weight now. Show them our heels.”

He darted back into t e woods as the car-
riage hastened on the horses settling down again
to their work. Astrong swing sent the valise
into the midst of a clum of undergrowth,
where itwas safely hidden rom the road.

Clark concealed himself behind the trunk of a
huge pine, that was straight and tall enough to
make a mast for a. three-decker.
see what was in the wind.

He had not long to wait. Peter and his team

gage. You can drive on

disappeared like a flash. In a minute afterward

the pursuing vehicle shot swiftly into sight.
It was a light carriage, drawn by three horses,
like his own. Two uniformed persons occupied
it, behind the driver, who was using all the elo-
quence of a Russian yemschich to stir up the
zeal of his steeds.

They were all looking straight onward, with
eager eyes, and caught no glimpse of the alert
face that peered at them around the trunk of
the pine.

Clark stepped freely out as they passed him.
He was satisfied that they would not look back.

In an instant more they shot around the curve, , 

and dies. peered. '

“Goo as gravv,” cried’ Clerk in exultation.
"They’re clean flung this time if Peter is on]
keen enough to play his shareof the game.
must get back into the woods and wait develop-
ments.”

He extricated his valise from the bushes, and
plunged into the depths of the wood.

Ten minutes after Peter drew rein at a post-
house, in the center of a roadside village.

“ A rela of horses. Quick i” he commanded.
“ I’m in a urry.”

The attendants sprung to obe . Some com-
menced to unharness his well- Iown animals,
while others went for fresh horses. But they
had hardly got at this task when the pursuing
teiim rattled briskly up, and was brought to a.
halt with a strong pull, The officers leaped out
and advanced toward the other carriage, on
whose seat Peter still eat, as game and stolid as
an oyster. -

“ It won’t do, my friend. You’ve given us a'

sharp breathing, but you couldn’t expect to es-' '

cape. Surrender now, if you want to save
trouble.”

The officer advanced to the side of the 

‘

 

am going to take to the '

He wanted to. '

 

 

 

 

.-

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I “Nobody but me.

X that countr

9 Moscow to Siberia. ‘ 

 

rm? as he spoke. He suddenly ceased, and fell
bun with a cry of surprise.

“By St. Paul, what does this mean? The
Wtka is empty.”

“He was in it, I’ll swear that!" exclaimed
the second oficer, springing forward.

The villagers looked curiously on at this
strange scene. But Peter sat as impassive as
over, only calling out:

“Hurry up those horses. I have no time to
wait.”

“Shake that stupid dog!" cried the first oili-
cer. “ Or touch him up with your whip. Hey!
fooll Where is the person you had just now in
the carria e?”

“Herd said Peter, pointin to himself.
I’m off to ogorodsk for
Count Demetri. Hope 1‘]! have your company.
The road is confounded lonely.”

“ The fellow is either a knave or a fool,” ex—
claimed the angry cflicer. “Search him and
the titan-lags. There is some trick behind all

 

CHAPTER IV.

wonvns m smars’ CLOTHING.

THREE weeks had elapsed from the date of
the closing of our last chapter. On the banks

’ of a narrow stream in the heart of Northern

Russia sat two men actively engaged in eating
cherries of which they had a full basket beside
them. They were dressed in peasant costume,
while at their side lay a kit of carpenter’s tools,

indicating that they were peasant carpenters on

their travels

At the risk of tiring our readers a little, it
may be well to give some idea about the way
they manage these things in Russia. Afl’aiis in
are conducted so differently from
our idea. of usiness, that it is hard even to un-
derstand their customs. Russians do not own
farms as we do. Each village owns a tract of
land in common. This is divided up into family
lots, and each family has to do its share of

(work. Some of the villagers learn trades, and

» hlance to that of Clar

travel all over the country looking for work.

But they have to send part of their earnings to
, or

the villa e, and to come back when ordere
else to
homes.

Such seemed the two men who sateating cher-

ome outcasts from their native

rise on the banks of the Kliasma, near the small

town of Vladimir, 150 miles from Moscow. They
were chatting busily as they made way with
the swaet fruit. One of them laughed as if
greatly amused, but the other sat without a
smile on his lon , lean face.

"If we havan t pulled wool over the eyes of
your Russian flpolice, there’s no use talking,’? re-
marked the rst, whose youthful face, though
brown and sunburnt bore a striking resem-

k Cloverly. '

“ We will be caught yet,” answered the other.
“ The whole country is awake. Orders are far
ahead of us.”

“All right, friend Peter," replied the youth,
with a reckless laugh. " We’vs played carpen-
ter among .them for three weeks now, and
haven’t sawed a board yet. It’s a cute game, I
take it. They will newer think of ooln'nz

 

underna carpenter’s coat for a Yankee scape:
graco.

“Suppose you are asked to do some work,"
an ested Peter. “ What’s to be done then?”

‘ he work’s to be done.”

“ But I never handled a saw in my life.”

“ Nor I, either. You leave that to me. Yan-
kees know how to use tools before they are born.
The don’t have to learn.”

e at up and threw the kit of tools across his
shoul or.

“ Come, old slowboyl We must toddle on.

Every mile “counts.”
’ Pater rose with a sigh. He was not so Spry
on foot as his young companion. Their course
lay along the banks of the river, which wound
prettily through a. cultivated country.

These two travelers were, as their conversa-
tion must have shown, the pair of fugitives,
whom we left in a difficult situation some three
weeks before. It is necessar , while they {Sir—
ney along the banks of the hasma, to go ck
and explain how they came into this situation.

We left Clerk in the depths of a. thick piece of
timber, dragging along a heavy sachel, which
was no pleasant task in the heat of midsummer.
He at length dropped it in disgust and seated
himself upon it, Wiping his face with his hand-
kerchief.

“This kind of traveling may be good for
salamanders, but I don’t hanker after it,” he
ejaculated. “ I hope Peter will fling his friends

and pick me up soon, but I’m sore afraid that ’

cat won’t jump. I haven’t too much faith in
Peter’s smartness, though he certame isn’t as
great a fool as he looks. '

The hours passed by slowly ashe continued to
wait. A considerable time had elapsed when
his impatience would not let him rest longer in
suspense. He rose and made his wa through
the woods, intending to recounoiter t e posting
vil age. ~

On gaining the edge of the woodland, how-
ever, the clang of bells warned him to retire.
Some vehicle was ap reaching. In a few min-
utes this came in s ght. Clark’s heart leaped
with satisfaction on observing it. It was his
own carria e, with Peter on the perch, gazing
eagerly an anxiously to right and left as he
drove slowly through the woods.

The eyes of the honest fellow lighted up with
satisfaction on seeing his youn master spring
alertly from his hiding-place With a cheery cry
of greeting5

“Hey, eterl Hey, jolly boy! You’re a

mountain daisy through' and through. 80 ,.

you’ve flung the on s, mly hearty!”

“Is it you, r. C ark?” warned Peter.
“They’ll hear dyou if you makeso much clatter.
They searche the carriage“ but there was
nothing in it, and I said I was driving to
Bogorodsk after Count Demetri. They d dn’t
half believe it, but there was no use in arresting
an em ty carriageJo they let me ofl.‘ I d ove
back here by a b’y-road around the vi] age.
Jump in, Mr. Clark. We must go back the
same way ”

An hour’s circuit brought them again into the’ V t‘

high—road beyond the posting station. Their
n

'ourney cont
at Peter discovered. by the conversational

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ued in safety for several days. I

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Moscow to Siberia. O

 

the villagers at the pointswhere they passed
the nights, that the pursuit was by no means

‘ven up. A description of the fugitive had
an sent for and wide, and Clark was recog-
nized at more than one station as the escaped
American.

“ Why do they not arrest me then?" he asked
Peter in doubt.

"Because that is not the Russian way. Or-
ders have been sent on to Vladimir, a hundred
vents" ahead of us. We will be arrested there
and sent back to Moscow." .

“How do you know this! Do the Russxan
police spread their plans in that fashion?"

“I have some friends amen the local odi-
cers," answered Peter with a nowing wink.
“Igot a hint last night, and he is a tool that
won’t take a hint. Vladimir’s the place.”

“ Then through Vladimir we’ll go, by book
orcrook.” ,

“How, sir!" exclaimed Peter in dismay.
“ That will be straight into the wolf’s aws.”

“The wolf wont bite," answers Clark,
quietly.

There was a plan in his mind, which he
worked up into shape during the next few
stages. It was very evident that their carriage
travel must come to an end. Siberia was not
to be reached by post.

Several weegdafiteé'owVaril'gd twio :Eavelvstained
peasants tram n im r, eir carpen-
ter’s tools proclaimin their profession. The
fugitive travelers ha assumed this disguise,
which had enabled them to wander safely
through man broad miles of Russian lands.
Clark spoke ssiun with very little accent, so
that he was taken for a native of the south.

It was pure bravado which took Clark here,
as the lace could easily have been avoided.
He was ust the one to dare the wolf’s jaws, as
Peter had called it.

. .He was even reckless enough to interview the

authorities of the old city, representing that
the were from Pogrof, a village in the south,
an were seeking work in the north.

Much to their private satisfaction, no work
oifered at Vladimir. Purchasing some lunch

. anda basket of cherries, for which fruit this

place is famous, they proceeded on their jour-
ney. Clark laughed gayly as they left the
streets of the town, and prepared to dine on
the banks of the small but swift stream that
flowed pasts ,

“ There’s nothing like it, Peter," he declared.
“ The only way to get along swimmingliv is to
march straight up to the rack. If we
the sliparound game it would have been all up
with us. che the music, that’s my motto."

Peter shook his head doubtful] .

“ Don’t you buy Russians or fools, Mr.
Clar or you’ll maybe find yourself sold.’ I

“T ey were neatl tooed that time, any-
how,” cried Clark gay y. '

This meal ended, they proceeded, as we have
saidat the o g of this chapter, along the
banks 6! the iasma, the small stream that ran
by the city. Clark was gay and he ful, but
we cannotsay the same thing for star, who
P...

’A'OmllMtwo-thirdaetemua

tried,

 

frequently looked back with an mucus ox-
pression.

“ Here comes a party of men after us,” he at
len th said.

‘ or well,” answered the hoyeasily. “This
is a Bub ’c highway.”

U up”

“ 0):, drop your buts. There’s no use butting
against every corner.”

The men came up at a rapid pace. There
were four of them, stout fellows, drasod in the
attire of moujiks, or laborers.

“Stopl” cried the foremost of them to the
travelers. “ You araacapentersl"

“ That’s what we carry our kit of tools for,"
answered the lad.

“ Then you are wanted in Vladimir. The
Governor, Baron Orloflf, needs some work done,
and sent us after you."

“Messengers must be lenty in your town,"
rejoined Clark, sarcastica y, as he eyed the four
men. ” If on nters are as plenty he can
his job done w1thout us., Tell him that for Ill.
We are bound for Barakova.”

“ He wants your work. Bouthtn carpenters
are famous for their skill."

“ He will not t us, than,” cried Peter, sharp-
ly. “ We ask for work in the town, and
there was none. We will not turn back for ten
Governors.”

“ This is my sentiment,” added his comrade.

“ But you must. The order is imperative.”

“ We are free Russians. We will not.”

' The Moujik made a sign to his companions,
who stationed themselves across the

“There is no use. my fellows.” he re-
marked. “When Count rloi! gives anorder
nobody questions it.‘ Will you walk or be car-
ried beck?” ,

The Yankee boy looked at the stalwart garty.
He then cast a questionin glance at eter.
whose face remained impass ve. '

“So those are your orders, eh! To fetch us
whether we willor not”,

“Something like it,” answered the moujik,
with a meaning grin.

“ Lead on, then. You can lead a horse to the

trough, but you can’t make him drink, let me’

tell you that.”

A half hour afterward they were ushered
into the presence of Count 01‘ oil, Governor of
Vladimir, a stout, hard-featured, haughty per-
sons

sent for,” remarked the moujik. '

The count fixed his eyes steme on them, with
a trace of sus icion in his looks. Peter looked
down to the cor, as if unable to bear that go,
but the boy met the fierce eyesof the count with
a look that would not have flinched beforean
.em ror.

‘ You are carpenters from the South, my
good fellows? That is’welL I have some jobs
glgendone. You are looking for work I an

“ We were, your excellency," answered PM.
“ But we did not find any."

“You have foundsome now. This desk am
of re air. I wish it mended. Do tint well“
I w flnd yousoms other-Jobs."

8.
“These are the carpenters your exoellenoy

...;;.."',.,v g. .

    

 

lilo-cow to Sfberlua'

 

Clark looked at it doubtfully.
“That is cabinet work,” he replied. " We
are only carpenters, and rough hands at that.”

“ You don’t want to do my work,” the count
‘ harshly answered, while his eyes were' fixed
' threateninzly upon the speaker. “ Perhaps you
.5 " do not know who on are deulin? with, fellow?
i Here is another 30 . I want a ock put upon
this door. Here is the lock. Any fool can do
that.- I shall leave you to finish the work. If
v it is not done inside of three hours. you may

find that I am not to he trifled with."

He left the room, with a. look of significant
meaning. The two mock carpenters remained
alone. They looked at one another dubiously.

“ This is fun," remarked the young man, with
a sour grimace. -

“ It’s worse than that. It is earnest,” replied
Peter. «“I’m desperately afraid the cat is out

. ot'the bag, master.” .

  
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
 
  
 
   
  
   
  

 

 

 CHAPTER V.
" A GOOD JOB or WORK.
ANhour of the time .given to finish the job
had passed by. The two companions remained
mute and nonplused. Peter set on the ho; of
tools, with his eyes fixed on the floor, stolidly
waiting; Clark had perched himself on the
broken desk, had lighted a cigar, and was smok-
‘ ing as contentedly as it he had not a care in the
World.
“How goes it, Peter?" he asked, with a con-
temptuous glance at his companion. “You
‘ leek as if you had just buried your
than Come, old stupid, woken up. so your
wits and Show how we’re to get out of this

core e.” , .
“glfe’ll get out of it by getting in the/lock-
, up,” answered Peter gloomily. “Count Orlofl!
‘is a. terrible man when he gets angry.”
' “Thongs? one way to get off.”
H '
“ By doing the job.”
C“ It can’t be done, master."
' . “ I’ve done harder things than that ” an-
’ , lwei'ed Clerk. “ I’d be ashamed to cell yself
'a. Yankee and back down before a bit of wood-
' butchering.” r i I
-, :“ I know no more about the tools than 1
baby,” grumbled Peter.

 

and at my brains in shape. Let’s 569 what oils
1 the o d desk, anywa .”

He sprung from his perch and began a close
inspection of the desk. V

It was I neatly-made piece of mahogony
furniture, with many drawers and igeon-holes,
altogether a complex affair. it he apparently
been badly treated, for it seemed conSidernbly
, shattered. There was a loose cover, broken

Elia:t es, split joints, 'and several gaping cracks
' e w . , .

Clark examined it critically, taking out the
drawers, and inspecting every part of the
broken desk.

. “Wonder if they’ve been playing toot-ball

it]: it?” he asked. “Looks as if a train of
 care had run over it. But yoh can bet our
oily picture, Peter, that I’m not gomg to ck
Lawn. Hand me that hot 01 screws and a

randmo- '

“No more do I. But I’ve had my smoke out ,

,x

gimlet. We’ll fetch these cracks to order, or
something shall burst.”

With Peter’s aid he was soon diligently at
work, putting a screw here and there, driving
in brads, fastening the loose hinges, and other-
wise bringing the thing into shape. The work
was rough, but effectual. Clark had the eye of
a natural mechanic, and saw at a glance the
best way to manage the diiiiculty.

“ So far, good. Give me that hummer, Peter.
You’re sglitting the wood with your clumsy
fingers. his is the way to drive a nail.”

He had even less success than Peter, for the
awkwardly driven brad opened a split across
the whole front of the drawer which he was
seeking to repair. He dropped the hammer
with a whistle of chagrin. ,

“ What the blazes is to be done now?”

“Put the lock on the door, and shut out
Count Oi'lofl‘," suggested Peter.

The Yankee boy sat cogitating for a few
minutes, while he leaned upon his hammer.

“ I’m desperately afraid he suspects us to be
something more than carpenters.
thl’l’lk, Peter? I didn't like his way of eying
us.

“ No more did I,” answered Peter.

“And he won’t think any better of it when he
sees his desk, for it’s a regular quarrymon’s
gob. Do you know, mg lovely coon, your count

as fut a game in all t is?"

“ am afraid so.”

“I’ll tell you what it is, Peter, a Yankee
mayn’t be born a carpenter; but he’s all there
when it comes to a. game of wits. You bet I
see right throu h the count’s little scheme, and
llilmvgoing to pay him a trick Worth two of

is. v

“ Howl"

“Just watch me out, and you’ll see. Deeds,
not words, that’s my motto.”

Clark set himself at once to the job of lock-
smithing, as ordered by the count, but he did it
in a fashion that made Peter open his e es. The
strong, stout lock that had been given in was

screws. T a catch for the bolt was next flxe
to the ‘doorjomb and the amateur carpenter.
looked at his wor with satisfaction. ,
“Not bad, for a. wood-butcher,” he compla-
cently remarked. '
Peter nodded knowingly.
“ I don’t know where you learned to do it..
Mr. Clark." «
“Keep mum, Peter. I’m going to astonish
our noble count, you bet.” ’
'i As he spoke he was oing throgfh some pecu—
liar mani ulations. e remov the mom-2 -
belt from is body, and thrust it, together wi h
his passport and some other. nestionable ob-
, jects, into a. secret drawer win he had discov-
ered in the desk. '
“ Come, Peter, shell out. Have you fol; any‘
thing about you that Will sell us—-’an
acre of writing?” .
“ ot a scrap,” answered Peter.
Steps sounded without at this minute. Clark
had hardly time to shove the drawer back to its
lace before the door of the room opened, and
nut Orion entered, followed by Several et-

 

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lonl eye. There was a meaning gll'ter in his
gaze when, he saw that the lock had been placed
on the door as ordered.

“80 you have thought it best to obey," he
coldl remarked, as he walked over to the desk,
of w ich be commenced a. close inspection.

He looked it over for a moment, and then
turned to the amateur carpenters, who were
quietly waiting his verdict. There was a look
of cold sarcasm on his face.

“ Very neat, on my faith." he remarked. “A
fair show of Pogrot work. So, my good fellows,
you expect that job to pass muster, eh?”

“Just so," answered Clark, boldly. “ We
told you we were no cabinet workers. You in-
sisted on buying carpenter work done on your
desk and you’ve got it."

“ Apprentice work, I fancy. It won’t answer,
my man. 1 have tested you, and I see you are
mere frauds, as I suspected. Where did you get
those tools?”

“ Brought them with us from Pogrof.”

“ Let me see them." He critically examined
the box of tools. “Just as I thought. They
are of northern make—bought in Moscow.
Bhrewd foxes you are. but 1 am alittle of a.
fox-hound. You have played it well, my men,
but you are tryin your game on an old hand.
I know you, turn: . You are at the end ot_

your rope.”

, “An all this because I bought a chisel in
Moscow!” exclaimed Clark, with an air of in-
jur . “I don’t understand your excellency.
We re only poor wandering carpenters, and
have done nothing against the law.”

The Governor ilxod his keen eyes on the face
of the speaker, while a look of superior sagacity
marked his sharp features. He turned with an
imperious gesture to his attendants.

“ Search them," he briefly commanded.

Clark showed signs of resistance, and nes-
tloned the authority 0; the count to put 1: cm
to this indignity wl‘ bout a legal warrant. But
the roud nohle sat with a sarcastic smile upon
his ace. This reluctance tobe searched seemed
to him evidence of guilt.
that his prisoner was only osing for cfl‘ect.

The attendants from: ad quietly to obey
orders des ite C urk’s indignant protests.
Peter took 1; e cue, and also protested. But it
was of no avail. They were thoroughly
searched.

Yet Count Orlofl’s smile became less sarcas-
tic as he looked at the objects that had been
taken from his prisoners. There was nothing
to which a shadow of suspicion could be at-
tached.

“ Examine their clothes more closely. There

. must be papers sewn into them,” he com-

 

manded. ,

The search was resumed, but it proved as use-
less as before. There was a covert smile on
Clark’s face as he continued his protests against
what he called an illegal outrage. He threat
sued to bring it before the village tribunal.

The discomflted Governor looked at his seem-
ingly indignant prisoner with in air of doubt.

" Search the room,” he exclaimed with a
flash of hope. “ Examine the desk. They have
concealed their effects.”

This couch was also without result. The .

He did not suspect

 

searchers were not aware of the secret drawer
of the desk, which Clark had discovered by ac-
cident. .u
“There is nothing to be found. your excel-
lency," announced the principal oflicer.
The count’s brows contracted. A look of
stem suspicion came into his eyes, as be fixed

them on the unflinching face of the younger
captive.

“ You brave it out well,” he said harshly.
“But Iknow you. You are not from Pogrof
but from Petersburg. You are the you: g:
American whom I have orders to stop and send
back. I have your description.”

“ American?” answered Clark,‘ with well
assumed wonder. v

“ Just so. I have sent to Moscow for an offi»
car to identify you. You are sharp, young fel-
low, but you will find that a Russian. is no fool.
Do you know why I had you put ,a lock on this
door?" '

“ How should I know that?”

/“ It was only that you might make your own '

Q'ison,” replied the count with a. grating laugh.
on have forged fetters for your own limbs;
my keen lnd. Hero is the lock which you have
kindly put on the door. I will station a guard
at the window, lest you taken, fancy to get out
that way. Tomorrow morning the officer from
Moscow will be here. I hope meanwhile you
may have pleasant dreams.”

Asarcastic smile marked his face as he or»

dered his attendants to remove the carpenters’
tools from the room. ‘

“ I don’t care to leave you‘tho means to take'
the lock off ngain," he ironic lly said.
can have the full benefit of your good work.
Good-night, and think twice before you next
try to trick :1 Russian.”

Clark lmked very downcast as thcv left the
room. while Peter seemed as if he ad not a
friend left in the world. A laugh at their woe-
betallen countenances came from the party of
Russians as they closed the door firmly behind

them and. turned the key with a sharp click in I

the lock.

The door was no sooner closed, however, than
a cunning smile crime upon Clark’s face, which
was reflected on that of Peter. ‘ .

“Keen; ain’t they, my boy?” remarked the
youth. *

“Sharp as razors,” answered Peter, with an
open grin. '

“But maybe they‘ll find that I‘m a. little
sharper than a clam-sacll myself.” '

“Shouldn’t wonder,” answered Peter, with a
look of admiration.

“If Idon’t show Count Orlofl the len lb,
breadth and thickness of a. Yankee trick he ore
he is ten hours older,. then you can sell me for a

oose. Humbuiged into locking myself in, was

1 You’ll find t at he lau hs host who laughs
last, my dear count. An now, Peter, I uess
I’ll resume my valuables, That part 0 the
fun is settled.”

He quickly 0 ned the drawer in the desk
which the scare era had failed to discover, and
regained his concealed treasures. He next ‘-

stretched himself on the floor, advising Peter to x  N

do likewise. ,
“ We mizht as well snooze out the balms» at

‘2,

LA Y0“ V

 

 

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. 14-..; one;

 



«sit-£8  a

12 ‘ Moscow to Siberia.

 

~' the da ," he remarked, “for we won’t get
much seep to-ni ht.”

This was a we come invitation to Peter, who
was always ready for a sleep. When they woke
a ain the do was long assed. The gloom of
night cloude their win ow, and darkened the
room. All was in dead silence. Clurk looked
out the window. It was as the Governor had
threatened. A sentinel paced sturdil y back and
forth without.

“ What time do you fancy it to be, Peter?”

“An hour past midnight, by the stars.”

“Then slide’s the word, and farewell toour
sharp count.”

He grasped the latch of the door and pulled
with all his force. It held firm for a moment,
and then suddenly yielded. The catch that
held the bolt had been purposely put on with
short. screws, that scarcely entered the wood.
It gave way before Clark’s hard (gull, and

, , dr'rli‘fiped into Peter’s outstretched ban
6 door stood open. Not asound had been

made.

Clark held up his hand in warning. They
listened intently. All was in deep silence.

“ Come,” he whispered.

In a moment the were in the passage out-
side, and the door 0 used behind them. It was
very dark here, but they remembered the
course they had tuken on their entrance to the
mansion.

,Cautiousl feeling their way with one hand
on the wal , they were not long are they met a
solid obstacle to their course.

“It is the door,” whispered Clark.

It proved to be unlocked. He opened it care-
fully. A breath of the night air struck their
faces. The stars Were visible before them. A

 step forward, and they were free in the open
air.

 

CHAPTER VI.
THE BIRDS OUT OF THE CAGE.

THE night was nxoonless. The stars, how~
ever, shone brightly, and it was quite light
enough to see the surroundings without ddfi-
cult . All lay in utterquiet around. The city

, of ladimir seemed to be buried in deep slum-

bers. ,
Clark led the way carefully to a. dark corner

g in an angle of the house, and bolted there.
“Peter waster making his way with all rapidity
from the dangerous locality, but he was caught

by the collar by his companion, and drawn

c .

“.Don’t buck-away like a crazy donkey,”
whispered the latter angrily, “or you’ll be
ramming your brains against a stone wall.
Hold ,hard, and let us get the lav o! the land.’

' He’s a blind fool that runs without looking.”

Forcing Peter into the dark alcove, Clark used

’ _ hime esand;enrs intently to get a full idea of
' the situation‘before movmg. All was still. Only

the occasional yelp of a distant hound broke the
silence. Not a li ht was visible. The town
Seemed lost in its ee est slumber. ,

’ The mansion of t 6 Governor stood some
what back from the street. It was a large
house, with many angles and porches. The
shadow at some large trees added to the gloom

 

 

surrounding it. To the left stood the stables, a
clump of frame buildings.

Clark observed all this with a' keen and atten-
tive eye, while some shrewd thoughts passed
through his busy brain.

“ See here, Peter,” he remarked in a whis-
pered tone, “ there’s going to be a wild time
around this shant to-morrow morning.”

“ That’s very li ely," answered Peter.

“ And there ll be a iolly hunt after two young
gentlemen of our size. ’

“ I calculate there will.” ,

“ All right so far. But I don’t fancy playing
fox to these Russian hounds. That’s one thing.
Another thing is that I owe your smart Count
Orlofl a trick.”

“ Don’t do it!” cried Peter, in alarm lest his
reckless companion might lead the way into
dagger. “ We’ve got a free foot. Let’s keep
it

“We’d play hob afoot, wouldn't we?" said
Clark, contemptuously. “ Why the ’d search
the whole country and run us down {before ten
o’clock to morrow morning.” '

“ But we haven’t wings. We can’t fly,” pro-
tested Peter.

“ See here, old stupid," said Clark, in a sur-
castic tone. “You know the make u of a
Russian house. I judge you could d the
grub-closet in this ( stablishment.”

“ The grub-closet?” queried Peter.

“Yes. The pantry. The rovision-chest.”

We’ll want a lunch at break astrtirne, and I
fancy Count Orlotf don’t expect us to walk 03
hungry. Ii he does that Russian nobleman .is
going to be disappointed. Dive back, my lad,
and stir up some grub."

“ What? In there?” cried Peter in alarm.

“ Just so. Back into the lion’s den.”

“ But I couldn’t do it. I am not brave enough.
It would be a terrible risk."

“ Very well,” answered Clark coolly, as be
seated himself on a pro’ecting stone. “ I am
not going to starve to p ease you. If you won‘t
go on a rub-raid I’ll sit here till morning, and
ask thg olks for my breakfast when the house
opens.

“ You don’t mean it!” exclaimed Peter, hold-
ing up his hands in dismay.

“ Don’t I! Just you try me. then. You’ll
find out,what sort of a hair-pin I am, my jolly

ter.

“But to go back therel—and after getting
out safelyl”

“You’ll go back, or stay here, for 'I won’t
budge an inch."

Peter lookedlas if he had swallowed a gallon
of new pickles. After several minutes’ hesita-
tion, he rose, and cautiouslg‘moved back alon
the side of the house. Clsr watched his scareg
and unwilling messenger with a. smile of
amusement.

“Thought I’d fetch him. Peter don’t banker
after the job. But! am’tgomg away hungry
to please him.” ‘

Trembling, apd starting at the rustle of every
lent, the unwilling groom forced himself to
return to the giant 5 castle, which he had
never to set foot in “again. But he dreaded the
reckless spirit of his young muster even more

than be on the stern Governor. Even on

 

 

 

 

 

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:

,f'
i

 

noncow to Siberia. 13

 

back was like pulling a tooth; but he did not

dare to refuse.
He was sharp enough, however, to remove his
boots, and enter the house in stocking feet. The

fall of an autumn leaf would have made less
noise than did his footsteps as he moved back
on his ¥rilous path. Clark was right in one
thing. eter knew just where to find the
pantry. Russian houses are built much on one
pattern. He had the whole affair mapped out
in his mind, and felt his way through t 8 dark-
ness almost as directly as if he had had full
da fight

fteen minutes elasped. All within continued
deathly still. At the end of that period the
nervous messenger ngain glided like a dusky
ghost through the front door of the house, and
gave a sigh of relief as he felt the breath of the
night air on his face.

“I wouldn’t go through that again if the
emperor would make me Governor of Moscow,"
he said to himself. “ Such a sweat as I’ve been
in! But I’ve got the provender, and I hope that
will satisfy that wild boy.”

He adjusted the parce of provisions which he
had thrown over his shoulder, and made his
way to the spot where he had left Clark. To
his surprise and dismay, the alcove was empty.
His outhful employs: had disappeared.

“ hatever has ome of the scapegrsce?"
ejaculated Peter. “ Mercy on me, but I’m
afraid of some more of his untamest tricks.”

Peter dubiously continued his journey. It
was darker than before. Clouds had gathered,
and the stars were vailed upon the sky. He
went on around the side of the house, With cau-
tious stops and anxious eyes.

"Saint Peter preserve us all! The youn
fool‘is a to some risky wildness, I know,
groaned eter.

“ Not such a fool anyon take him for,” came
a voice in the nervous fellow’s ear, that made him
start asif he had been shot. “Got the grub,
Peterl Why you're a jewel, my jolly. Give
us your coat collar, and keep as quiet as a blue
bird. Come this way.”

A hand grasped his collar and led him diago-
nally across the yard. He yielded submissively.
There was evident] somet ing in the wind, but
what it was he con d not imagine.

4 In a few moments they entered a carriage
track leading outward from the stables. A few
ste more took them outside the o n gate,
an into the street. There, before eter’s vas-
tonlshed e es, stood alight open carria e, har-
nessed wit three horses, in Russian lash on.

He gased at Clerk in dismay.

“ Lord bless us all, you haven’t been helping
yourself to the count‘s carriage?”

“It looks that way. I’d have put bells on
the horses, but I didn’t like to disturb the
folks."

“But do you know what that means?” cried
Peter in terror. “It’s flat burglary! They’ll
send us to Siberia if we’re caught!”

“ They’d do that anyhow. But they’ve got to
catch usfirst,” re oined the reckless youth. “ I’ll
send the count 1; shorses, with m compliments,
when I am done with them. at I owe that
gentleman one. And I don’t intend to tramp
afoot while he’s not horlea to were. He’s not

 

to catch the fox before he can take the brush.
Tumble in, old blunderbuss."

Clark took the reins. In Peter’s present state
of mind he was not safe to trust with them.
In a minute more the horses were moving at a
walk down the street of Vladimir. '

At this critical instant a dog, which had slept
during all the previous movements, suddenly
wakened, and set up a prodigious clamor in the
yard they had just sit.

Peter, in alarm, made a clutch for the reins.

“ Hurry l” he exclaimed. “ It’s all up! That
our will rouse the town I” r '
He got for his pains a smart stroke of the

reins across his knuckles.

“ I’m driving this team,” said Clark, in a low '
stern voice. “Just you subside and try and
get back your brains, for you seem to have lost
them.”

He continued to keep the horses ata walk,
despite the continued barking of the dog. One
side of the street lay in deeper shadow than the
other, and be closely hugged this side. They
moged noiselessly over the dusty surface of the
ma .

“ Make haste slowly. That’s my motto,” said
Clark. “Never run till you have to run, and
then go as if the old boy was kicking you. Do
you see now? The dog’s shut his horn, and‘

everybody’s asleep yet. If I got flustered like . ’

you I’d throw up the sponge at once.” I

Peter had nothing more to say. It Was evi-
dent that there was a. cool hand at the reins.
Clark kept the horses at a walk until he had
passed beyond the built-up town. Only a few
scattered houses remained.

“Now, my lad, it’s neck or nothing,”he re-
marked to Peter, in a tone of satisfaction.
“ There’s a. clear path and no favors. We ought
to be fifteen miles away by daybreak. Do you
know this road 1” .

“ I’ve been over it twenty times.”

“ Then ‘take the reins. I can‘t get out 4
of a horse without the whip. But you ussinns'
never use one. It's all tongue with you and no '.
whip. Drive like blazL-s, Peter for they‘ll chase -
us hard in the morning. And awsee, won’t old ‘-
Orlofl be boilingl I’d give my hat to be by and
see him.” .

He laughed gayly as he changed seats with
Peter. There was no longer need of caution, as
there was no house near. The horses started 01!
at a quick trot on feeling a loosened rcin. They
were full of spirit, and Clark had held. them in
with difficulty. -

It was a straight‘clean road, and though the
darkness continued, their course was clear!
marked out by the bed es and fences on one ‘
side. In Peter’s skillful ends the horses made
a good pace. The houses once eased he used all
the arts of a Russian yemschic to stir them on.
It is the custom of those drivers to keep up con-
stant cries, at the highest pitch of 'their voices.
Pudi, “ go along,” is the ordinary call, but they

also talk to the horses ina patronizing tone. 

“Come good woman!” “Stir up, my little ,
doves l” “ Wake up, old fellow!” and a variety I
of such sayings serve the purpose of awhip, ,
which is never used. ' 7
The fresh horses rattled g;ny along. The 
young American was right his conjecture. ,

 

I - » i

14 Moscowto Siberia.-

 

They were fully fifteen miles on their rond when
the sun sent his first rays above the eastern hot-

mom

“So far good,” he said, with satisfaction.
“Russians, don’t rise very early after these
short summer nights. We ought to have an-
other hour good‘before they miss the birds out

V of their cagfe. Keep the creatures down to

their work, eter.”
*‘ v I The American boy amused himself in investi-
» gating the contents of the lunch package, and
they made between them a hearty meal out of
the abundant stock of provisions to which Peter
had helped himself.

“Jolly, my lad," exclaimed the Yankee;
“you’ve got a. good eye for grub in the dark.
That coldkmeat is mine, and the bread is sweet
as pound-cake. I knew I could trust you on the
grub question}:

About eight o’clock that morning they drove
into a. Ost station, about thirt miles from
Vladim r. The horses were wel blown with
their sharp run.

5 “Quicki” cried Clark. “A relay. Stir ; our-
selves, my men. We are in haste.”

“ Ay, ayi” answered the postnl~master. “ But

 

' You’ve driven hard this morning. “Mercy on
me. isn’t that Count Oi'loif‘s turnout?”

Peter shook in his boots at this suggestion.
'But Clark was quite up to his duty.

“Yes,” he uiotly answered. “We are on
> the count’s bus1ness. And in a deuce of a hurr
too. You’ll be h t to hear from the count if
.you delay us. V eke up there, my men, or
. you‘ll get wool in your ears.”

count roused up the postman to their best on-
deavors. Within ten minutes they had a. team
of horses ready and harnessed to another car—
, ,riage, as Clark desired to leave the couut’s
_ vehicle. ,

“Good-shy now. Public business. you know.
Give my respects to Count Orlofl? if he comes
this way.”

:They were 01! again at racing speed.
'* Three hours in terward the humhugged Gov-
ernor of Vladimir rode into the station in wild
haste. But his anger became fury on receiving
' the message left for him, and being offered his
ownpcarriago and horses to prosecute his jour-

   
     
 

110V.

- The very air becameblue with his rage, and if
; ever a set of men were thoroughl cursed they
were the astonished inmates .o the posting-

station.

. Finally the raging nobleman flun himself

again into his carriage and drove vio ently on,

/',vowing the most dire vengeance on thefugi-
tives should they fall into his hands. ‘

CHAPTER VII.

5 THE GREATEST ram ON EARTH.

, IT was night of the day succeeding that of the
{escape from Count Orlofl’s improvised prison.
' ‘iThe fugitives had driven night and day, with
{without relays of horshs, takiu turns to slee
in e carriage. Near nightfall V of tho secon
‘.day they entered the important city of Nijni
NOVW. on the, banks 01 the river Volga,

 I’m afraid the horses are all in the fields.‘ '

This threat of the displeasure of the autocrat'

 

 

more than one hundred and fifty miles from
Yladimir. They had made good use of their
t me.

“ That’s what I call going,” cried Clark, as he
sprung litghtly from the carriage. “I bet high
we’ve le t the count ’fifty miles behind. And
now. my lad, for a sup er and a quiet snooze.”

“You don’t know ount Orhff,” answered
Peter, in alarm. “ He is a. regular sleuth-hound.
He will never leave the track. We had best
keep on.”

“ What for!" asked Clark, with a contemptu-
ous gesture. “ He could find a needle in a hay-
staclg..as quickly as find us here. Don’t you
know where on are, boo y!" .

"'lu Nijni ovgorod,” replied Peter. .

“ And today is August 10th. The great fair
is in full swing, you ninny. There’s more than
halfumillion poo 19 in this town, it there’sa
soul. It will be d if we can‘t hide in such a
crowd.” '

Peter’s face brightened up. He had not
thought of the fair. He had, in fact, completes
1y lost hiathead during the is two days, and,
but for the cool wit of his young employer,
would have run square into danger.

“But the town will be searched. We will be
described to the police. " '

“ I fancy not. The fair is in full swing. We
can disguise ourselves here in any rig from
John Chinamun to John Bull. But let us 100k
after sleep and supper first, for I suppose the
town is jammed w th stren ere.”

While the travelers seek t 0 hotel on thehund-
some main avenue of the city, a short descrip-
tion of the place and its 1\peculiar industry may
not be amiss. Nijni or ew Novgorod is an an-
cient Russian city situated at the point where
the river Oku joins the greater stream of the
Volga. It has long been Celebrated as the seat
ofu grand annual fair, which is without its
equal upon the earth, and brings together a
greater variet of the human race than can
anywhere else found in one spot. merchants
from farofl! China on the East min ling with
traders from farmed“ England on the est, while
all the intermediate inhabitants of Russia and
Asia. are there represented in their national
habits and dress, and with their national goods
for sale. It is the great meeting-place of the
East and West, and millions of dollars’ worth’of

goods change hands during the period of the “

fair. This fair has continued for centuries, at
first in the Tartar city of Kasan, but latterly
in Novgorod, and is one of the greatest events
of Russmn life. ‘

Into such a scene had the travelers fallen.
Yet on leaving their hotel the next morning,
aftera night’s refreshing slumber, they found
the streets, which had swarmed with people the
precading night, now silent and deserted. All
the inhe hitants of the city seemed to have sud-
denly vanished.

The young American was for the moment a
little puzzled at this. Had everybody taken

wingsand flown away from the city? Ere he,

could makeup his mind on this point he was
roused by Peter, who nervously pod his
arm and drew him hastin into the udows o: A
narrow shay. . »

 

x
/
l

 
  
  

 

   
  

 

 

Moscow to Siberia. l5

 

‘LThere he comes! Quick! I am afraid he saw
usl

“ Who?"

“The conntl The great Orlofl. Yonder !"

The sound of boots was audible, rapidly draw
ing near. The next minutes carriage appeared,
drawn 1) three smoking horses, and displaying
behind t e driver the hard, stern face of the
Governor of Vladimir, his countenance full of
fierce determination.

“ Lord, ain’t he boiling over. There’ll be the
very Old Nick to pay. and no pitch hot, if he
getsa twinkle at us. The fun is getting warm,
Peter. Put your wits to play and say how we’re
to fling him.”

“ Let us go to the fair,” suggested Peter.
“That’s Where you said we could hide.”

“ The fair! Where is it? Lead the way. So
that’s what has swallowed up the town."

A few minutes’ sharp walk brought them to
the localit of the great fair, on the lower
ground atVt e junction of the two rivers.

The dcuthlike stillness of the up er town sud-
denly ended. They found themse ves at once in
the midst of a dense crowd, who surrounded a
series of wooden shops adjoining the stream.
The further they went the thicker became the
crowd. The multitude of ple was in steady
motion. The travelers to lowed, not knowing

' where the were being led. At length a turn to

the right isclosed a low brid e of boats, lead»
ing across the Oka, and crow ed with the long
line otmoving people.

At once the great fair broke upon their
vision. Before their eyes was spread out a
great mass of low stone buildings wuh a lofty

‘edifice in their center, and a vast spread of

wooden booths occupying the outer space.
Among these was such a multitude of people as

. Clark had never before seen together In one

place. ’ It seemed, at first sight as if the inhab-
itants of twenty ant-hills ud been suddenly
converted into men, and heaped together ma
maze of human beings. .

Clark pushed his way across the bridge, filled
with curiosity. He was closely followed by
Peter. Very soon they were among the booths,
which they found to be crowded with goods in
astonishing variety, while the busy throng of
buyers and sellers ke t up nbabble oftalk in
almost every known anguago of the c1v1hzcd
world.

It seemed as if the whole of the human race
had been flun to rather in that one spot of the
far North. 1%) m dition to the Russians, and
people from every nation of Europe, there were
the Armenians of Southern Asia, With fuir
skins, handsome faces and fine forms. Besxrle
them were the people of Bokhuru, in Central
Asia, short and bloated, with shaved heads and
skin of a mulatto color. Here again were the

. yellow-skinned and almond eyed Chinese, min-

led with the dark, spare and flare -looking
axtsrs. Again appeared. a roup of alf-sav-

' age Flnlanders, or of the who 1y savage tribes
0

Northern Siberia, dressed in midsummer in
their for robes. Many of these had come thou-
sands of miles, to buy or sell at the great Rus-
sian fair. V _

The goods offered for sale were as various as
the people. Hers were the productions o;

 

Europe from the laces and silks of France and
Holland to the cotton goods and hardware of
England. Here were the shawls of Cashmir
and the tanned horseskins of the Tartars.
Here the iron of the Ural Mountains, and
the holy images and wax candles for sale ..
to the peasants of the Greek church. Here the '
teas and porcelain of the Chinese,.and the cost-
ly camel’s hair shawls of the Bokharans._ Such
were a few out of the vast multitude of stran e
goods that crowded every corner 'of the fair,
mm the outer booths to the inner range of
warehouses. ,n , I

And buying and selling was goingon with
such briskness that the whole croWd seemed wild
in the endeavor to dispose of or to purchase
some of the endless maze of goods, ‘

“ Come ahead, Peter. my boy,” cried Clark,
as he led the way into the dense crowd. “ Our '.
friend the count might as well hunt for a V 
hatchet at the bottom of the Atlantic as to seek <
ugheyre. We can snap our fingers at his wor- ,. '
s 1 .

‘ Don’t be too sure of that” warned Peter
nervously. “The count is no fool. It will not
belong before all the police of the fair are on
the lookout for two traveling Russian n- -
tars. Folks are very wide-awake‘ here, 1'. , v’
Clark." 4

“And we’re not fast asleep, Peter. We’ve
got to swo our ri s, that’s flat. There’s plenty
of chance ere. chap needn’t go amiss fora  Y
shrewd disguise. What shall we turn into,
Peter? Tartars or Chinese, Greeks or Turks,
there’s clothes of every attern." ~

Peter shook his head dbubtintgly.

“We can’t get rid of our aces, Mr. Clark.
Nor of our tongues.” ' x 

“ Can’t fling their lingo. eh! Very well; sup-
pose we play Cossack. Or here’s a Polish ' .

, $3,.

 

vs a notion we would make a handsom
of Poles.” . ' .

In fact the variety of varied clothing was so .
great that it was no easy matter to decide whit
to choose. Yet Peter’s fear was not without .
warrant. Their appearance might be described
and the police of the fair put in search of them.
Delay was dangerous. v

After some little time the two fugitivess'uc—
Cecded in making the desired Chan 9. of cloth-
ing. Wrapped in long, loose,: ur—trimmed
khalats, or cloaks, with low, silken caps on
their heads, the presented a greatly changed ‘ 
appearance, an might readily have passed for  2,
merchants from the for East, but for their .-
Europenn faces. 7

They hadlnot proceeded far in this new attire
ere their attention was attracted by the voices
of some ansing Russians of oflicial. appearance.

“ They are somewhere in the fair, ’ said one
of these. “ Count _ Orloff has V. traced them ’
hither. The description is precise. Search
must be made at once.” , V ,

“ There are orders from St. Petersburg, you.
any?” queried the other. , ' - , '

“Yes. And the count is in a perfect fume. ‘
You never saw 0. man, in such a torrent of ragé. 7
l have a Fancy he has been tricked in some way
tiy that young American. You know the

nnkee reputation for trickery." I

“Yes. yes. But we must show our sham, 

 

 

 

   
  
   
 
 
 
 
   

Moscow to Siberia.

 
 

 

oath flint the Russians are not quite fools.

he fellow is mooning it somewhere about the
fair, I suppose, without a fancy that the bull-
dogs are on his track.”

he ofllcers passed on, vanishing in the depths
of the crowd.

“ I am very much obliged to you I am sure,
my dear sharp jackass of a oliceman,” re-
marked Clark sarcastically. “ at if on think
that I am the fool you take me for, ’m afraid

ou’re barking up the wrong tree. We can

ugh at them, Peter, as lon as we kee in the
crowd. They will never t ink of loo ing for
two stran in a Tartar rig. Come this way.
There’s a it of fun going on, and we might as
well take it all in.”

Outside the row of booths, in fact, were vari~
011! places of amusement, as diversified as the
aide-shows of an American circus. Here were
plays in strange languages. yonder were sleight-
of-hande‘performances. Here were savages,
Iix—legg sheep, and fat women; yonder a
menu erie made up of half a dozen animals.

In t e midst was a large tent, in which circus
performances were going on. The astonished
Asiatics, some of whom lived on horseback
looked on in wonder at feats which they be
not deemed possible, while the acts of the
tumblers and the antics of the clown seemed to
them something magical.

Further on up the Volga 1:3
to which, as night approach ,
bustlin throng. The houses were handsomely

in and rightly lighted up, while the
inkling sound of the balalaika, or Russian
guitar, and the lively noise of busy dancers re-
lounded from every house.

Among these places of amusement the crowd
spread itself, as the active business of the day
ceased with the approach of evening. The two
fugitives had spent the day among these busy
scenes, Peter in mortal dread of the police,
while Clark led the way in reckless disdain of
Count Orlofl.’ and his so emes.

“ Hadn’t we best get back to the town 1'" pro-
tested Peter. “We are in great danger here,
Mr. Clark.”

“We’ll be In greater there, Mr. Peter, and
you’d see that if you had a grain of wit. Our

otel is marked, you bet on that. We’d be
snatched if we set foot in it, so We must find a
sleeping-place somewhere on the fair-grounds.”

Peter suddenly ipped him by the arm, and
Clark turned quic 1y. There was an ashy pal-
lor on the Russian's face, while his hand was
fighting toward a man just in front, With his

ck toward them.

A single glance sufficed—it was Count Orlofl.
There was no mistaking that straight, haughty
figure, with the well-poised head.

‘;Back,” whispered Clark. “ He has not seen

us.

At that instant the count turned and looked
full in their faces. An expression of surprise
came upon his harsh countenance, followed im-
mediately b a malicious satisfaction. _

“So, gen omen,” he sarcastically said. “ I’m
glad to meet you again. Sto , sirrah, you have
your head in the lion’s mout this time, sure.”

a large village,
there pushed a

“The lion will have to catch us first. Come,
I’etar."

 

Clark darted away, followed by his nimble
companion. With a cry of anger the count fol.
lowed, screaming for the police at the top 0! his
veice.

The crowd had now greatly thinned, and very
few people remained among the booths near
where they ran. In and out amogg these booths
hurried the two fugitives, follow by an ever-
growing crowd.

“ Off with your cloak, Peter,” cried Clark.
“ It’s bare legs we want now.”

Relieved of the flying cloaks they made better
regress. But it seemed impossible to escape.
he pursuers were close behind, while the alarm

was spreading in advance.

They were now among the stone warehouses.
Darting around the corner of one of these for a
moment the pursuers were out of sight. At the
door of this house stood a grave-faced Russian,
attracted by the noise.

Clank gazed in his face, while a feeling of re-
cognition flashed into his eyes. He made a
peculiar sign, which was answered by the sur—
prised Russian. The latter quickly slipped aside
while the two fugitives darted past him into the
depths of the store. The next moment the
crowd poured around the corner, and rushed
fiercely past, yelling wildl as they hurried on.

The Russian had resum his place at his open
door, and looked out on the excited throng with
as placid a countenance as if this was a matter
of ever day occurrence.

The ugitives crouched out of sight in the dark
recesses of the unlit warehouse.

“ How did you do it Mr. Clark!” asked the
astounded Peter, in a w is r.

“ Hush," answered Clar , in the same tone.
“ I knew my man. I gave him the secret signal
of the Nihilists.”

“ Oh Lord I” groaned Peter, falling back in
utter dismay. “A Nihilist! Mercy on me but
l’tlifs’c’ioner run headioremost on the devil him-
so

 

CHAPTER VIII.
FACING THE LION.

As maybe imagined there was a fierce and
hot chase throughout the precincts of the fair
after the vanquished fu itives. The alarm
spread far and wide. any of the traders
rushed out of their booths and oined the wild
pursuit. Others hastily locke themselves in,
with the {one that the fair-grounds had been
invaded by a and of brigands. Wild cries and
shouts rung far and wide, though not one in
fifty of the pursuers had an idea of what he
was in pursuit.

This uncertainty helped to cover up the es-
cape ot the fugitives. Count Orloif soon per-
ceived that they had given him the slip. But it
was impossible to stop for the purpose of search-
ing the neighboring booths, for the dense crowd
be ind pushed blindl on, driving forward
those in the lead. By he time the disappointed
nobleman had managed to escape from the ex-
cited throng he was far away from the point
where the trail had been lost. And it was not
easy to tell, in that great puzzling city of barter,
just where this point was.

The merchant who had concealed the fa -

 

tives hastened to close and lock his door the '

  

 

 

 

Moscow to Siberia.

17

 

stant the crowd had passed. He struck a light,
and came back with eager and anxious counte-
nance. ‘

“ Who are you?" he demanded, in an excited
tone. “I am bound as a_brother of the order
to tpgotect you to the death. But I know you
no

“Ilknow you,” answered Clark coolly. “I
saw you last Winter in St. Petersburg. Have
you forgoth the Young Nihilist; the Ameri—
can boy whom you helped to initiate into the
order?”

“What! Is it you?” cried the merchant,
holding the light close to Clark’s face, and
eagerly scanning his features. “Yes, I know
you now, brave ellow. For you proved your-
self brave."

“Hush,” warned Clark. “Peter. my man
here, is not a brother of the order. But the cat
is out of the be , and there is no getting it
back. But Peters all right. He would give
his head for me, wouldn’t you, Peter?”

“I don’t know,” answered Peter doubtfull .
“I’d give my heels, but I don’t think I co d
spare my head."

His utter seriousne set the two others laugh-
ing. He seemed to think that Clark was in
dead earnest.

“ All righet, my hearty. But I was tried and

/acquitted fore the imperial court, so I don’t
care who blows the trumpet.”

“But what does all this mean?” queried the
alarmed merchant. “ Why are you pursued i”

“ The authorities are after me like cats after
mice,” explained Clark. “I’m off for Siberia
but there are orders out to stop me and send
me back toSt. Petersburg. Now, I don’t in-
tend to go back, that’s flat. I was recognized
in the fair and chased into your fox-hole. ’

"- To Siberia!" repeated the merchant in a
tone of surprisc. “What in the world takes
you there! That’s just where brothers of the
order don’t want to go, and plenty go there
against their wills." /

“ I am oing to the rescue of a Nihilist,” ex-

lained Clark. “Itan Stretzlitz, who was sent
$0 the mines of the Ural. He saved my life. I
owe him one in return.”

“A prisoner in the mines? It is impossiblel
You cannot rescue him."

"‘1 can tr ," answered Clark with easy confi-
dence. “T are is no telling whatacute chap
can do if he tries right hard.”

“Then luck go with you. Ivan is a friend of
mine. But you must leave here at once. The
police will search these warehouses. What is
to be done?”

“ Can you not disguise us!”

“Yes, yes,” cried the Russian hastily. “It
Is a good thought. I will make Tartars of you.
I have suits here that will fit you both.”

With nervous haste he proceeded to dress
them in Tartar costumes. A high, cone-shaped
hat with a round rim completed the dress. He
then produced a peculiar brown stain, with
which he painted their hands and faces until
they were of the color of ripe chestnuts. This
work done be viewed them with satisfaction.

, “A pair of handsome Tartars, on my soul!"
he ejaculated. “ Do you know anything of the
was"

 

" I can talk it retty well,” answered Peter.

“ Very’ good. f you are wide awake you can
pass muster. Now, gentlemen, you must at
once. It will not do for you to be found ere.
Come back to me to-morrow. I will see that
you have the means of proceeding on your

ourney. I cannot go with you to Ivan’s rescue,
u}: I” can help you in the dangerous enter-
prise.

He pushed them with nervous haste out of
doors, and quickly closed and locked the door
of his warehouse behind them.

Clark was moving of! with a rapid stride, but
he was caught and checked by Peter. r

“No Tartar walks that way,”e lained the
latter. ‘ " We must walk quietly an gravely,
and keep very sober faces. Don’t laugh, no
matter what happens. And leave all the talk-
ing to me.” ,

"-Guess I will. Peter. My tongue would sell
the game at the first word. Lead on, you wide-
awake old coon.”

The excitement of the chase had not yet sub-
sided. Groups of people were standing abou
eagerly talking and trying to discover what h
caused the sudden hubbub. -‘

The fugitives joined some of these groups and
listened in amused silence to their wild guesses.
It was a pair of Cossack robbers. It was a gang
of savages from the North. It was a brace of
Nihilists who had tried to assassinate the direc-
tor of the fair.
wide of the truth. ‘

“ This way, my men.
It was here they disappeared. Search every
booth and warehouse in this locality." ,

The sharp, stern voice was that of Count
Orlofl. Peter trembled in his boots and turned
pale under his paint, on hearing that terrible
'voice and seeing the face of the dreaded count so
near him.

The irate nobleman was followed by a group
of policemen, who at once dispersed t emselves
to obey his orders. He walked up to the group
that contained the fugitives.

It was a perilous moment. . An attempt at
flight would be fatal, and it was almost as dan—

erous to remain under the count’s shat-g 6 es.

eter nervously edged off. but Clark caug t im
with a firm grip, and fixed his eyes threatening
ly on his follower‘s scared face.

“ Keep still, you fool. or I’ll burst your brain-
boxl” he fiercely whis red. I
Count Orlofl.’ walks up, fixing his keen eyes

on the group.

“ You entlemen have remained here. The
fugitives id somewhere about here. Have you
seen them? They may have again attempted to

escage." v

A urst of disclaimers came from the crowd.
N 0 one had been seen. They must be still ’con-
cealed.

“ I am not so sure of that,” he continued, di-
rectly facing Clark, who had preserved all the
grave dignity of a Tartar merchant. “ They
may hpve come from their hiding-place in dis-
guise. ‘ ,

The reckless youth seemed on the point of an-
swering. It was Peter’s turn to inch him. ‘The
frightened Wick burst out a torrent of

A dozen guesses were made, all | ‘

I cannot be mistaken. ' "

 

 

was» 9—»

fl urn-.— .

wag-I'm 2px

 

 

  . -

 

 

is 1 Moscow to Siberia.

 

Tartar speech which would have puzzled even a
Tartar to understand.

The count shook his head.

“ Much obliged. mfigood sir, but Russian is
my native tongue. ere, some of you, can’t
you answer, and save this worthy Tartar from
wasting his jaw-breaking words?”

The count turned awa without a shadow of
suspicion and addreSSE some others of the

party-

Peter plucked, his master by the sleeve and
moved gravely away, saying something in the
Tartar ialect. Clark at once took the cue and
followed him. They moved on at a slow and
dignified pace, while the count continued to talk
with some of the Russians present. In a few
seconds they disappeared around the corner of

,‘a booth.

‘V‘ That worth son of Tartary must think I
am a walking— ictionary,” remarked the count
with a smile. “ Who are they? Do you gentle-
men know them i"

“,No. They joined us just before you came

2

u .
p“ They did, eh?" with a quick suspicion. “ Can
\it be! But no, it is irripossible that the young
American can 5 ak artar. Yet the younger
one was about h size and build."

The countwalked irresolutely after the fugi-
tives. Butrthey had disappeared. They were.
in fact at that moment hurrying with all speed
_ from the dangerous locality. He turned back
with adubious smile, feeling that his suspicion
must be a foolish one.

Yet the search, though close and thorough,

proved ineffectual. Count Orlofl! returned to
his hotel after a wasted hour, more angry and
determined than ever. The more he thought of
it the more he feared that he had let his game
all through his fingers in the two Tartars.
. Bay again dawned. Ere it was an hour old
the great fair was once more a busy nest of hu-
man beings, talkingrin as man languages as
were spoken at the ower of Ba 1.

Clark, followed docilely b Peter, sought their
Russian friend at an early our. What passed
between them it is not necessary to repeat in

a

words. Itis enough to say that the Russxau was”

true to his promise. He gave them good advice

about their enterprise and amply provided them ’

with the means of carryiu it out.
In a couple of hours a terwerd a brace of

I seeming Tartars crossed the Volga, and set out

on their journey over’the broad plains beyond.
There was no difficulty about this. Hundreds
of merchants and buyers who had completed
their business at the fair were in like manner
traveling eastward.

u l The two travelers in question were mounted

.on small but wiry horses, harnessed in Tartar
fashion, and seemingly full of blood and fire.
- In addition there followed them two led horses,
well laden with the bag age of the travelers.
They were,» in fact, ‘lurk Cleverly and his
, faithful follower, very glad to be once more on
their,2ourney, and out of reach of the Argus
eyes 0 Count Orloif.
“Jolly weather, m boy,” cried Clark in en-

' thusiasm, as he ave is horse the rein. “ This

suite me better an all your can-lass travel.

 

 

How is it to he? Are we to go like snails on
horseback, as well as on foot?"

“ No. A Tartar is at home on his horse. You
can ride like wild if you want to. And I think
we had better.”

tt Why?”

" Did you not hear the talk at the ferry? It
seems that Count Orlofl is on the lookout for a
couple of Tarturs, whom he suspects to be his
game in disguise."

“ The deuce he isl” ejaculated Clark, with a
shrill whistle of surprise. “Hang his sharp
picture! Are you sure of that, Peter?"

“ Indeed I am. We have 0t to ride like the
wind. We will not go far fore the bounds
are on our track.”

“I don’t care that for your Count Orloif,”
cried Clark, with a snap of his fingers. “ He’s
got to catch us before he can pinch us. And
there’s such a. thing as catching a Tartar.

' When a chap catches a Tartar he is generally

glad enough to let go of him again, you know
thgtk’T’eter. Wha route do travelers generally
ta 9

“ They usually‘ go by way of Kazan, the old
city of the Tartars.”

“ Then we will go by some other route. It’s
abig countr , ant there on ht to be room to
hide in it. t out, Peter.
burst.”

The active Tartar horses responded readily
to the rein, and in a few minutes the travelers,
were pushing forward at a rapid pace over the
level and somewhat sandy roads to the north
of the Volga. ,

They were once more of! for Siberia, in anew
style and under new characters.

we hours afterward a troop of savage-look-
ing horsemen, armed with long lancos, crossed
the floating bridge of the Vol 8.. They were
Cossack soldiers, and had been is etched in all
huste after a. brace of fugitive orsemen dio-
guised as Tartars.

CHAPTER 'IX.
mm AND ms cossacxs.

THE day was a bright and fine one, the sun
none too warm, while a pleasant northerly

’m in for a sharp

breeze swept down ovar the broad plain. The.

travelers pushed on at a brisk pace, their bug-
ggge-horses following at a sharp trot behind
em.
For awhile they followed the main road, pass-

ing frequent groups of travelers on' their way to i

‘or from the fair, some on horseback, others in
li ht Tartar cart, some even trudging content-
8 iv on foot.

The two fugitives reached at length a by—rond

that ledoff atasharp angle Lu Lin: north. 'lno r

Yankee bo looked in iiin l at his com an-
ion. Peter’hodded hlsqliiaad.g p
the reins the horses’ heads were turned. The.
next minute they were out of the traveled high-
way and were trottin rapidly along a smooth
road that was almost eserted by travelers.

“A fair field and no favors my joll lad,"
criedClark, in boyish enthusiasm. “ his is
wlmt'I call living. A good horse under 8, a
thousand miles before me. free to non w n I

 

ith a touch to.

 

1
L

 

 

1

\_

 

 

Moscow to Siberia.

19

 

please and go where I choose, and not a care in
the wide World. Bless your_eyee, old chap,
what are you looking so glum about? You
ought to be as happy as a king.”

‘ As the king’s fool, I fanc ,” answered Peter,
with ssolemn shake of the ead. “I’d gives
whole taboon of horses to be well out of this
sore e’, and in my Own little home in Moscow.”

“ ou would. eh? And what is a taboo'nf’

“ A herd of horses.”

“ Well, I wouldn’t give the lee side of a horse-
hair. I’m at home here, and you’d best make
yourself at home. There’s danger in it, I sup-

ee, and what it there is? I wouldn’t give a

for our ride it it was all smooth sailing.
Hing it, old blue-nose, we‘ve come throu h
twenty scrapes since we left Moscow. I’m t 9
picture of good luck, I tell you. Stick to me,
and on can snap your fingers at in late.”

“ might do that," grumbled Peter, “but I

couldn’t snap them at a troop of Cossacks. I .

saw some of them in Novgorod yesterday. It
the count puts them on our track, Lord help usl
You can't brag about good luck before a Cos-
sack lance.”

“ Stir up {our spirits, my boy. I don’t care
a chestnut or a regiment of Cossacks. 1 see

 what you want. A swig of vodka,* eh i”

“ It wouldn’t hurt me,” answered Peter, with
a. sigh of hopeful expectation.

- Clark laughed as he took a black bottle from
the pocket of his saddle.

“I knew it you cute old rogue. Your soul’s
in the vodka bottle. Drink it out, and make a.
man of yourself again. You’d give a tadpole
the blues, with your confounded gmmhling.”

The bottle was upturned ovei'Peter’s ample

’ mouth. and a. gurgling sound came from it,
until Clark snatched it hastily from his hand.

“ Give it to me, you confounded toperl You’ll
turn yourself .into a whisky barrel next. A
Russian always knows when to begin. but he
never knows when to stop.”

“That’s a mistake,” answered Peter, already
halt-tipsy. , “ He knows well enough.”

,“ When?”

“ When the bottle’s em ty.”

The boy laughed at t e solemn earnestness

[with which Peter said this. _

“You’refla jolly old horse at bottom, it you
were weaned on vinegar,” he cried, slapping his
companion heartily on the back. “And now,
old chop. it you’va got back your wits and.your
courage out of the vodka bottle, let’s stir out.

a If there‘s any chance of being chased by Cos-

' sacks it won’t pay to creep along like snails.”

A touch of the spur to their active horses,
and they sprung forward into a keen gallop, at
as brisk a pace as a. Tartar rider himself could
have got out of them. ' ‘

V Clark sat his horse like a Centaur. He had
been well trained'in horsemanship, and this pace
was but child’s pla to him. As [of Beter, he
seemed part of his arse. The fiery liquor had
only tightened his nerves, and he seemed as‘ it
trozen into the saddle. The baggage horses
followed, with no need of a leading line. They
had been trained to their work.

 

0 A strong spirit. mode from corn or potatoes.

 

The country through which they were bass—
{n was verv dlfir‘l'wt from that on the other
sit e of the VIM“. That was a rich and liizhlv
cultivated soil, thickly settled. and the seat or
an active farming industry. This was nor and
sandy. Only sparse crops could be raised; and
the herding of cattle took the lace of the agri-
culture south ot the river. he villages were
veg few, and the road nearly deserted.

our after hour the !u itives kept on at a
steady pace. The horses 1: ey rode seemed fiu‘
tiring. The rapid journey of the morning was
kept up until after the sun had passed the mid
sky, and begun his westward course.

hey were now man long mlles away from
the citv of the great fair. The last of the trav-
elers had long been left behind. The country
grew wilder and more barren at every mile.

era and there great tracts of woodland arose.
Theybwere approaching the vast forests of the
or .

“It strikes me that man and horse needsa
rest,” exclaimed the American boy, asithcy
topped a long incline. “ That last pullvbreathed
our creatures. A bite of grub, a draught of
water, and an hour’s rest, and we’ll be good for
the road again.”

“ And "the Cossacks?” suggested Peter. ,

“ The are twenty miles behind, it they’re an
inch. hat is if there are an Cossacks, out of
your lively fancy. ’ I’ve auction, somehow, you
dreamed of them.” ,

Peter shook his head dubiopsly. There was no
use talking to his incorrigible young master.
They presently drew rein and halted at the
foot of an opposite slope where a gurgling
stream ran past and buried itself in the depth
of the roadside forest, while a. broad spread of

reen verdure ofli'ered rest for man and food
or. the horses. ‘ ~

The bridles, were no sooner removed than the
horses ran eagerly to the flowing stream,‘ and
drank deep droughts of the grateful water.
Their thirst appeasod they began a hasty crop-

ing of the rich grasses, that grew luxuriantly
side the stream. '

Meanwhile Peter had relieved the baggage—
horses ,of part of their burden, and read out
on a. smooth spot some of the shun ant pro-
visiottiiwhich the generous Russian had pre-

are .
p “ He’s :1 ga old duck, you bet,” cried Clark,
as he attacks the vlandswith a traveler’s appe—
tite. “I know that sort. He’s a. bargainer
through and through. and would pinch a pig‘s
nose OH in a trade. But when business is over
he’d give aways. cowas quick as one of its

horns. Mercy on us Peter, when are you o~
ing to stop eating? You’re worse than an a '-
gator.”

/ “ I don't know who’s made the bi gest hole in
the pile,” grumbled Pete. “We’d fiest fill our-
selves. We may not have time to stop for sup-

er.

“ Got that Cossack bee in your bonnet again,
eh, Peter? Go ahead. then. Burst your bread-
basket if you’ve a mind. I’m in for a rest."

Clerk flung himselt at full length on the grass, r
whilel’eter continued to eat with an apmtite
that seemed as it it would have no end.

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At length he stopped. with a sigh of regret
that he could contain no more, and slowly gath-
cred up the remnants of the feast.

“ Hadn’t we best be oil'?” he asked anxiously.
“ We’ve had an hour’s rest. The homes are good
for an afternoon’s run.”

“ I ain’t, then.” answered Clark indolently.
“ It’s too royally cool and comfortable here.”

‘/‘ But the Cossacks."

“ The Old Nick take the Cossacks! Why, you
Jack, we’ve flung them of]? the track thirty
miles away. I calculate they are of! for Kasai)
hot foot.”

Peter shook his head in obstinate doubt.

“ You might double on a sleuth-hound but
ou can't on a Cossack,” he replied. “ They
rack like the Indians of your American woods.

They are afterus I tell you, Mr. Clark—And if
thfiy catch us-—-”
6 twiried his finger around his neck in sig-
nificant pantomime. ,
“ Hang us, will they 1" queried Clark, indo-

lentlv.

“ As quick as eat parsnips for sup r."~

“ Yon re worse than a mosquito, eter," said
Clark in an accent of discontent, as he slowly
arose to his feet. “ Come, we’ll trot hack to the
top of that hill; there must be a good five-mile
view from there. I bet you we don’t see the
glint of a cow’s tail."

“ I hope not,” rejoined Peter; ” but it’s better
to be sure than sorry.”

The slope was a long one. Leaving the horses, ’

which had long since satisfied their appetites,
still daintily nibblin at the grass, the two
gravelers walked bac to, the summit of the

It proved as Clark had said. An extensive
view lay spread before them. The forest stop-
ped ere they reached the summit, and a broad
open country extended down the slope, over a
wide level at its foot, to another incline fully
five miles away.

“ Still as death, you see,” remarked the yggng

‘man, “and all your panic is wasted.

told you, there is not the glint of a cow’s
tail "v

" We should have brought a glass.” answered
Peter; “ it’s a long stretch for eyesight. What’s
that gleam in the piecé of woods there to the
left’l"

“The gilded cross on the top of a village
church,” rejoined Clark. “ The sun is on it.”

“ Look! it has disap cared!”

" There’s a cloud on t e sun.”

“ There it litters again, and nearer us! Our
village churc es do not travel, young master.”

“ What is it, then!” with an incredulous

ru . .

Pager made no answer, but continued to gaze,
while he shaded hiseyes with his hands. ud-
denl he sprung up, with a gesture of alarm.

“Iy thought so! It’s the glint of a Cossack
lance! Look! Thereithey come out into the
open! There's fifty lance-points if there’s one!
And see do you not notice something moving
beneath them?”

“Yes,”, cried Clark, with sudden energy.
“It’s a troop of horse as l'm a living rooster!

You’re right for once. Peter Zavod. and l’vo

 

,.
'e
v

 

been pinyin: the fool. Ham: me if I thought
there was so much vim in your Russian troog
ers! Come, my lovely, there’s no time
waste.”

They took a last look back. The distant
moving object could now be distinctly seen.
The steel heads of the long Cossack iances, held
upright, glittered like silver in the sun. They
were riding at a rapid pace straight toward the
fu itives.

own the hill together went the latter. They
had seen enough.

“We’ve ot the best of them yet,” declared
the young ankee. “Their horses are blown.
Ours are fresh. They won't nab us like flies in
a sugar-bowl.”

“ Shall we keep straight on?”

“ Nary time! We must double on these
hounds. I’m not to be caught napping by the
sharpest Russian that ever kicked.’

In ad'ew minutes they were at the foot of the
hill. Here they hastened to, replace the bridle:
on the horses, who submitted unwillingly to the
operation. '

“Mount and away!" cried Clark, springing
to his saddle, and heading for the opposite

slo .

xter- followed, and the baggage — horses
brought up the rear, as before.

“I thought 1you were going to double on
them,” cried eter, out of breath with his

aste.

“ So I am. But when I double it will be like
the fox, not like the rabbit." "

a! “ Like the fox?" repeated the puzzled Rus-
an.

“Just so. Don’t you see that those fellows
are tracking as b our hoof—prints in the dust?
1f the trail brea s here they’ll plunge into the
wood after us. But there‘s a stony reach ahead
that will not take attack. That’s the spot to
slo e off.”

eter looked in admiration at his' shrewd
leader. It was uite evident that the Yankee
boy knew what a was about. The fri htened
yemschick began to regain his lost o'onfl once.

In a. few minutes the iron hoofs of the horses
clattered on a stony bottom. They were mount-
ing a rocky ridge that rose abrupt y through the
sandy level of the plain.

Clark rode on a few paces, and then turned
sharply into the wood at the roadside. Peter
followed, with a peculiar call to the baggage
horses, that turned them also into the forest.

They rode on her aconsiderable distance, verg-
ing downward toward the stream. This reached,
Clark reined up his horse and sprung nimny to
the ground.

“ Push on !” he ordered. “ Ride straight down
the channel, and keep the horses in line after
you. 1 will follow you soon.

“ Where are you goxngl” demanded the anion-
ished Russian.

“Back to ambush those Cossacks. Drive on,
old fellow! Don‘t you fear for me. I want to
know what stuff we’vegot to deal with.”

A half-hour afterward. with clutter of hoof
and clang of stirrup the Cossack troo rode up
to the t where the fugitives had ted to
dine. hey drew rein and looked down on the

4 .

.H- .. .. ages-r: —.-:

  
 
 

 

 

*. ter was yet oozing.

' lunch. They have followed the road straight

- he shouted.

Moscow to Siberia.

21‘

 

  
 

their savage faces full of wild sat-

telltale spot
ile they talked together in a fierce

isfaction, wh

dialect.
From the forest, not twenty paces to their

left, a pair of keen eyes gazed at them through

a leafy screen.

 

 

CHAPTER X.
on THROUGH THE wrmwoon.

T in: young American lay safe] hidden in his
bushy covert and looked with interest on the
group of his foes. There was something savage
yet something splendid in their appearance, as
the sun shone on their swarthy, bearded faces,
on their red cops and the glistenin points of
their long lances. In additionto t is wea n
they wore a long dagger in their belts, an .a
short Turkish relock strapped across their
shoulders. Altogether they seemed. a gallant
and dan erous troop, likely to render a good ac-
count 0 themselves in battle.

’The horses, on which they sat with so ens
and graceful a carriage, were strongl bui t
animals, with shaggy manes and tai s, and
trained to obey the least motion of the body of
the rider. In battle a Cossack and his horse are
one, and the animal moves to his will almost as
readily as his own hand moves.

Several of the leading troopers had sprung to
the grdund, and were close y examining the
traces of the halt of the fugitives. As they did
so they conversed together in rapid tones, of
which only a few sentences came to the atten-
tive bars of the listener.

They investigated the hoof-marks of the
horses in the muddy border of the stream, the
cropped and trodden grass, and even the frag-
ments of food which remained strewed on the
ground. '

From the words that came to Clark’s ears he
was able to catch the bent of their conversation,
and he could not help admiring their sagaoity,
though it promised ii for his hopes of escape. ‘

Into the hoof—marks on the brook side the we.-
The trodden grass had not
begun to erect itself. The particles of food ‘had
just been discovered by the ants, and contained
only a few of these active insects.

he investigation ended in a few minutes, and
the leader turned uickly toward his troops.

“ They left here ess than half an hour ago,"
“ They do not suspect pursuit ‘ or
they would not have been so easy over t eir
on. Mount and follow! Mount and followl ’

A wild cry of satisfaction broke from the
troop in real . Those who had alighted sprun
to their sadd es. A loosening of reins, a tone
of spurs, and away went the troop like a whirl-
wind, sweeping along the road with the regu-
lar mmement of some mighty machine.

The Yankee be followed them with his eyes,
With hope and ea isfaction.

“Splendid fellows they are,” he murmured.
“ Real Don Cossacks. Glorious riders, but the
less I see of them the better. I hope they’ll fol-
low that road to Jericho, and leave us two
or bans to a quiet ride.”

p the ion 810 beyond swept the rapid
troop. Soon t eir oofs struck with a ringing

" was the hero rock. The: were already

 

at the spot at which the fugitives had turned
nto the forest. Clark breathed more freely,
and began to hope that he had been too shrewd
for his pursuers.

Suddenly there came a flutter in the troop, as
when a wave of wind passes over a field of
grain. The foremost files had drawn rein. In
amoment more the whole troop halted. An
old Cossack in advance was pointing signifi-
cantly to the surface of the roadway.

Clark waited for no more.

“By the seven blessed saints, the cat is out of
the bag!” he ejaculated. “ It’s the best horses
and the sharpest wits now in earnest. Here
goes for liberty l”'

He plun ed rapidly away through the wood,
followmg t e line of the stream, but keeping to
the higher ground above it, where there was
little under rowth. There was not a second to
lose. The ssacks were too sharp to be fooled
by a transparent trick. They would be on his '
track within ten minutes.

Onward at all speed through the untrodden
forest plunged the active youth. The pine cones
of last year cracked sharply under his tread.
Living things rose from their coverts and rushed
in fright away. Birds broke in a wild whirr
from the bushes. But he heeded nothing of this.
It was neck or nothing now, and but a single
thought lived within his brain.

Peter had been making good progress. He
was nearl two miles away from the scene of
the noontide rest ere Clark overtook him. The
shrewd yemschick was riding straight down the
brook, followed by the other three horses. On
each side indeed, it was walled in with a thick
growth oi bushes, so that it was easy to keep
the animals to the water.

He looked back anxiously from time to time,
and an exclamation of delight broke from his

lips on seeing his young master. The latter
quickl overtook him.
“ ell done, Peter!” he cried. “ Running

water leaves no trail !"

“ But the Cossack? Have they one on?”

“No. They will be on our true within ten
minutes."

“ Then the Lord preserve us!” moaned Peter,
with a pious tone that made Clark laugh.

“ The Lord helps them that help themselves,
Peter. That’s the Yankee motto. Push on to
that o ening in the bushes. There’s not a min-
ute to use in chatter. Push on l”

In a minute more the point in question was
reached. Here the bushy wall of the brook
was broken away on One side, and it was easy
to reach the water’s edge.

“ Halt!” cried Clark sharply. “ Of! our
horse! We must take the weight from base
draft animals. We may have to shift our
saddles, and an ounce of extra strength in the «
horses may be safety. ”

As he spoke he was rapidly loosening the load
of one of the extra horses. Peter took the hint
and did the same for the other. Then londin
themselves with the hcav burdens they trudg
back through the forest or some distance, to a
small thicket of bushes, in the midst of which
they deposited their loads. A

" Bring the provision hamper, Peter. We

can’t ware that. All the test must take its

82 H i",

Moscow to [Sibel-in.”

 

i

' chance. If the Cossacks find our cache, good.
by. Escape is the first thing. If we get oiY we
can make our way back here for these things.
And now, bridle and spur is the word. And
lively’s the time!”

He hurried back to where the horses were
docilely waiting, cropping the green leaves of
the bushes as they did so. The next minute
they-Were in their saddles and pushing onwa‘rd
as risklyhs was possible in the bed of the
brook.

All around was dead silence. It the pursuers
had found their track they were not yet within
hearing. In fact, their pursuit could be but

,1 slow, Since they would necessarily have to be

’ on the watch for hoof-tracks leading from the
water. " -

“ Our cache may escape,” remarked the o
adventurer. “They will be looking for hoo -

‘ tracks, not for footprints."
. “ But when are we gain
asked Peter, anxiously. “
brook forever."

“ As soon as we strike a good spot, my moujik.
I’m not going to sleep, Peter, you can bet high
on that. '

For a half-mile further they continued. Here
the bushes ceased and the wood become very
thin and open. The rock ridge at this point de-
scended and crossed the stream, presenting a

‘ surface covered only by patches of soil.

“Greed!” cried Clark, ‘oyfuily. “ It’s just
‘ what I was looking for. p and olf’s the Word
now, Peter. Take care to keep your horse to
the rock. Don’t let him touch grass or soil.”

, He guided his horse out onto the bare,
smooth surface of the stone, followed quickly
by Peter. Each taking it rein of the extra
horses to prevent them from straying over the
grasegrown spots, they rode slewly and cuu~
tiously up the sloping rock.

It'was no easy pro ‘ress.

to leave the water?"
9 cannot follow the

Occasionally a hoof

slipped on the sweet 1 surface. But eftera short

regress, they reached a. rougher and more level
ocality. \

‘ “Now, Peter lowboy, time’s the word; and
a fighter your ‘ossacks.
thing of the country hereewayl”

, “Very little. (at there are horsetrecks
leading through most of these forests.”

, "On then. The rock is beginning to peter
out. There are too many-tree—droppings here
,for my liking. But we are a good quarter—mile

' away from the water, and may fling our sharp >

eyed‘pursuersi”
S0012 the rock gave way entirely and they
were on the yielding soil again. hey walked
‘ their horses for some distance, so as to disturb
the surface as little as possible. «
During the last few minutes peculiar sounds
had come to their ears from up—Btreum, which
' grew momentarilymore definite.
_ “What is it, Peter?” asked Clerk. “It sounds
‘ ,V . like the qebber of blackbirds.” ,.
Peter istened intently for a moment.
“It is the jabber of red birds!” he exclaimed.
’ “The Cossacks are famous tongue—rattle“.
The are coming down-stream on our trail."
, “ net as I fancied. But WB’ve got the
weather-gage of the gentlemen, Here’s good-
,hr and may!” ‘

 

Do you know any-A

» rapidity.

 

Giving the rein to his eager horse he started
013‘. at a trot through the woods, releasing the
lead horse. Peter did the some.

Under the shadows of the hoary old pine
forest they rode, as briskly as possible, through
the maze of crowded tree-trunks that rose.

everywhere straight and lofty to the leafy,

canopy that spread far overhead.

It was an impressive scene. This was the
primeval forest, grand and ancient. No ex
had ever touched those mighty trees. Seldom‘
had the foot of man trod' beneath their lofty
arches. The sunshine hardly struggled down
through the leafy curtain. A damp, cool air
lay beneath, tempered now by a. refreshing
“breeze. It was the home of living things that

dwelt there undisturbed by man, as they had

dwelt ere man came upon the earth. And not ~

only the small fry of life, but larger and more
dangerous creatures might there be found.
The brown bear rolled his bulky body through
these woods. The yelping wolf roamed here in
hungry flocks. The young in itive drew his
breath sharply at the thought e remembered

how he had once been chased by a herd of Rush. '

sian wolves. and what a. sharp blush he had
had for his life. _

0n the rode, with free rein. No rapid pro-
gress con (1 be made, as there were many ob-
structions to their route, but they soon gamed a.
mile or two of distance from the stream.

“It looks lighter ahead, Peter,” said Clark,
poifiitingforword. “ The wood seems to open a
In" .H I,

“i hope it is a cut,” answered Peter. “‘ I
don‘t fancy this pathway among the pines." '

It roved to be as be ad conJoctured—n afar~
row arse-track desding through the forest.
Rotting stumps on each side showed where the
ex had been at work, and the works of cert—
wheels proved that Vehicles occasionally passed
that way. '

“Heigh-ho, and away. This must lead to _

some high-road. My blessing on the chap that

first chopped his way through here.” -

They rode onward now more briskly. The
track was not very even.

rose into ridges or sunk into hollows. ,But it
was better then the forest, and they proceeded
with some rapidity.

Some three miles they continued when a more . '

open space up eered before them, and they rode
Out into a big way, whether the poo they had.
lately left or not was uncertain; . ,

It was ossible now to advance With more
‘he horses Were weary With their
labor, yet they pricked up their ears at sight

of the open road, and started 06 at e sharp: .

trot. ,
“That for our-Cossacks now.” And Clark

snapped‘his fingers.{ “I bet a cow we leavo. ,'

them in the lurch.” . _
“ I doubt that,” said Peter sturdily.
don’t know a Cossack.”

“Yeti

“I know you’re 'a re ular killjoy, and a .'

blasted old ninny,” cried t e lad sharply in nu—
BWEI‘.
ngr cask. Let out now, and ryup."  n

For mile after mile they proceeded. The

country continued rolling. Lon; inclines and ,-

_ l
.A\ '” ,

 

 



Here was erpateh of , 
sand. here a pool of water. Occasionally it I

“ You ought to be hoo ed up in a vine,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. ,..............A..vq .44., «

 

 

Moscow to Siberia. V I l 23

 

ddscents succeeded the level of the more south-
ern region.

The afternoon pasSed slowly away. They
were many miles distant from the scene of their
late escape The horses, blown with their labor
had now fallen into an easy trot. The wind
had sunk away. and an oppressive snitriness
reigned. The sky was clear, except for a low,
sulohury cloud on the eastern horizon.

They topped a. long ascent that ended a
straight reach of the road. Here they halted to

‘ rest and give the horses o. breathing—spell.

“ it is confounded close,” remarked the young
Yankee, wi ing his face. “ That eastern cloud
is growing (1st. I hope it holds a puff of wind.
Look back, Peter. See if our friends are in
sight.”

Peter obeyed. Clark continued tofix his eyes
on the cloud, that was rising with strange
rapidity, and presented a peculiar lurid as-

t

c .
pcSuddenly his follower cried out, as sharply as
if something had stung him:

“ By Heaven, they come] Look, my masteri
Yonder are their lances! They are less than a
mile awayl”

Clark looked back while a harsh cry broke
from his lips. There was the troop of pursuers
plainly in sight!

“Your Cossacks are devils. he cried. “ A
fox-hound could not track sureri But, by Jove,
they shall not catch moi Shift your saddle
Peter. There’s not a second to lose. We mus
mount these fresh horses and give the others a
resting-spell.” _

The suggestion was a good one. In a minute
the saddles were shifted to the extra horses and

‘ the others set loose.

During this interval the pursuers had come
much nearer.

A wild cry came faintly to the ears of the fu-
gitives. 'The had been seen! 7 The chase had
reached its cl max nowi

There were fifty chances of capture to one of
escape! »

A touch to the reins, a call to the horses. Off
and away once more! And up the opposnte
slope, like a terrible meteor. came the savage
troop of Cossack cavalryl

 

CHAPTER XI.
A 3138an HURRICANE.

“I’vn’heard of Indian trailing, Pete,” said
the American b0 , as they rode briskly side by
side down the hil slope, “ but your Cossacks are
no slouches. A prairie scout would have to be
wide awake to diSt-oum. thy-m.”

“They haven’t caught us yet,” answered
Peter. “Nor they won’t."

“ Why?’

“Do vou feel that?” A keen gust of wind
struck their faces.

(l ’Yes.)l

“It is the first put! of the bouran.”

“The bout-an? And what the blazes is a bou-
ran 1’”

Peter answered by pointin to the sky before
them. The peculiar cloud w ich had been seen
on the horizon had risen with strange rapidity,

and now stretched. like a long dun wall. across

 

the whole sky. Its front was of n lurid hue,
and seemed torn into flying shreds. Behind it
rolled over and over, like sea breakers. >

“ You will know what it is, inside a minute,”
cried Peter. “ Ride hard. We must strike the
valley before it reaches us.”

011 down the bill they went, at breakneck
pace, the horses seeming to realize the necessity
for speed. The ufl‘s of air grew sharper at
every moment. naminute more the valley
level was reached. At the same instant the
head of the Cossack troops appeared on the
summit they had just left. .

And with a whistle that quickly became a
howl, the boura'n came, a terrible blow, that
nothing living could lon face in safety.

As when a. dam hrea 's and the waters of a
lake pour out on the low lands, sweeping all

before them in their flow, so come the wind.’

In a moment the air was full of leaves, twigs
and branches torn and twisted from the trees.
The sand that had been scooped from the road

darkened the air. It seemed as if all the de- y

mons of the sky were abroad, howling in fiendish
exultation. Now and then a terrible crash
could be heard, as a huge tree, uprooted or
broken in twain, tumbled headlong 1n the for-

es .

The fugitives were protected from the full
fury of t e hurricane by their position in the
valley, with an elevation on either side, and by
the thick forest growth surrounding. but the

Cossacks, on the hill summit1 were caught in its,

full rage. 'The foremost fies, which had ap-

eare on the ridge, went down as if before a
ightnmg stroke, man and horse hurled to the
ground. The others, who had not yet gained
the peak, hastily turned. and fled in frightened
haste downthe hill, their speed reduubled by
the terrible pushing.r force of the wind.

An involuntary laugh broke from the hunted ’

Yankee boy’s lips. as he saw the pursuing Don
Cossacks lifted like straws from their horses,
and buried headlong to the ground. 7

“ So i‘nniis a bou'ran.” he remarked. “ Iknow 

what it is now. Lucky we not down into the
hollow. What’s to do now, Peter?” .

“ We cannot stay here,” answered the Russian.
“ It niil blow out in ten minutes. And we
can‘t ride 11 shill against it."

“ ,Thet’s lwhat we can’t do. What can we

0 .

“Follow the valley down into the woods,”
answered Peter. “ It’s risky, for the trees and
branches Are tumbling. But it is our only
chance.”

“ Then go’s the word! Come on, livelyi We ‘ i

must make hay while the wind blows."

He turned his frightened horse and rode into
the open forest. Peter and the other horses fol-
lowe . .

Along the valley bottom ‘ they rods. The
wood was here open, and pro res: was easy.
yet the roar of the wind throng the trees was
such that they could make themselves heardonly
by shoutin at the top of their voices.

The wm scarcely touched them here, but it
was doing wild work in the tree—tops, which
bent before it till they seemed ready to sweep

to thqground, while twi s and small branches» ‘ i

came rattling down in o a war,

\
/

 

 

 

 

':

r9?

  

 

   

 

Moscow  Siberia. .

 

 

“I don’t know which is worse, the wind or the
Cossacks!” shouted Clark.

“ Back! for your life 1” roared Peter in reply.
“ Here it comes l”

. They rained up so shar ly as to throw the
horses on their haunches. t the same moment
a” snapping sound, like the crack of nearby
thunder, struck their ears and a hu 0 tree-
trunk, broken in two as a child might reek a
twig, came rushing and rearing down with a
swoop as of some huge bird.

" It struck the, ground with aterrible crash.
But that they had reined up so opportunely,
they would have been crushed into fragments
beneath its mighty limbs. ,

“By all that’s cod, that was a narrow
squea I” cried Clar , drawing his breath with
ages . “Two seconds more, and our journey
would, have been at an end. But a miss is as
Food as a mile, and the Cossacks are behind us.

me on.,Peter.”

He rode up into the wood. around the ob-

 struction that lay across their path. They now

‘ / [this way. They will

i

’ wood proceeded» the cavnlcude.

moved more slowly, keeping eye and our open.
lawns not safe to ride careless y through such

perils.
For some ten minutes the rooeeded. It
was as Peter had declared. 'l‘ e owl-an began

' to blow itself out. The bowl of the wind de
creased, and the rain of fragments grew less
incessant.

“So far so good "said Clark, raining n}; his
horse to a walk. “The wind has blown Its est,
butthe Cessacks haven’t. Will they strike our
trail again?” '

“Any man with a grain of wit would come
now that, and follow.”

“How long is it to sunset?” 

“ Two hours yet.”

“ Plenty time enough to overrun us. Our
horses should be the freshest, yet these Cossack
bruise seem to be bounds for sticking. I! we
keep on they are going to nab us.”

\ ‘ I think so," answered Peter.

“Then, my darling fellow, there's nothing for
it but to play a new countermarch on them. We
must leave the hollow, and strike at random
back; into the forest.” ‘

“ It ma work," answered Peter, hopefully.
“ They WI I hardly be able to trace our trail.”

“Trail! There will be none. Don’t you see,
old stupid, that this shower of leaves and twigs

I [would cover up the trail oi an elephant? Now’s

our time, before the wind goes down. Come
ahead 1” , v
- He rode at an angle into the forest, ascendin
,the hillside to the left. Peter obediently fo-
lowed. The free horses trotted on in the rear.
They had been well trained. Go into the gloomy
It was nearly
as dark as if the night had fallen, from the
, overhanging canopy of leaves and the black
storm-clouds: The were forced to move slowl
to avoid danger. are and there a great branc
or a fallen tree obstructed the way, and forced
them to ride around.
But the wind was momentarily declining. It
/ cam now in puffs, rather than in a steady blow.
Eve minute its violence decreased. The

for, ' crew lighter. suddenly a clear beam at

 

 

light shot athwart their path. The sun had
broken through a rift in the clouds.
m“The hurricane has blown out,’I suggested

ark.
P ‘éelt’s wind is broken at any rate,” answered
e r.

“ And our Cossack friends!”

“ Will be after us in a jiffy.”

“ Then I am not goin to run any further. I
will leave you here wit the horses. Here is a
nook between the fallen tree and the thirket
which will make a
the beasts in there.”

“And you?” asked Peter, in alarm.

“ I am not going it blind any longer. 1 want
toting?v out the lay of the land.

“ on are not going to venture back?"

“Just so."
“ Lord bless us, young master. you'll be taken
sure! You don’t know Cossacksl ’ .

“ Excuse me, friend Peter. I know them
better than Tylou think. But they don’t know
Yankees. ey won’t snap me up so easy now
[tell you. I've cut my eye-teeth, it I am-only

me.’
He cut short further discussion!) walking
rapidly hack into the woods, leaving star in a

fright behind with the horses.

Clark moved quickly on, regardless of the
alarm of his follower. They were a mile back
from the ravine, but his rapid pace soon
bought him within sight of it.

The gale had now sunk into a entle wind.
The clouds had broken awa an left a free
field forvthe sunlight. The ems oi! the de-
clining sun shot here and there between the
tree-trunks, in level rays of light.

The bush tofi of a fallen tree offered him a
safe ambus . e crawled up the stout trunk
until he was well hidden among the leaves.
From here he had an open view of the valley.
He flxad his eyes on a spot‘ where a sunbeam
broke through the gathering gloom and lay like
a brilliant Web of light across the woodland

may. '
vervthing was silent around him. The up

roar which a half-hour before had filled the
forest with deafenin noise, had subsided. Deep
silence succeeded. t seemed as if the whole
world of life had been scared and was not yet
over its fn' ht.

For a ful halt-hour he waited, while this,

breathless silence continued. Then a faint stir
came to his attentive ears. The sound increased.

He fixed his eyes steadily up the ravine. Sud- ‘

denly a red flash broke into eight and imme-

diately disappeared Clark’s'keen senses were.

of a (lossack

not deceived. alt was the red on
bad momentarily

on which a beam of light
fallen. '

And now the sounds were unmistakable.
They were the trend of heels, and the tones. of
human voices. In a moment more the band of
Cossack pursuers rode into sight, slowly follow-
in the course of the ravine.

e ambushed spy held his breath as he noted

their savage faces, full of energy endanger at l «

being so long baffled.
They came on spread out widely» and keenly

p

prime hiding-place. Laud ’

a boy. Don’t worry oi! your night-can about » '

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

. r

Moscow to Siberia. I 23

 

noting eVery foot or the ground. He sunk down
on the sheltering trunk as some of them rode
directly toward him. In a minute more the
tree in which he lay hidden was surrounded,
the line of pursuers spreadin out so as to
embrace both sides of it. He eld his breath
in suspense. One black~bearded fellow was
near enough to touch him with his lancevpoint.

Meanwhile Peter had led the horses into the
covert indicated by the young American.
Leaving them there he remained anxiously
at the entrance, waiting for the return of the
risky outh.

An our passed slowly away. Another hour
followed it into the shadows of time. Yet no
trace of the daring boy appeared. Peter grew
terribly alarmed. The In htfall had come, at
Clark was still absent. here was be? ad
he fallen into the hands of the Cossacks?

The honest fellow, who had a strong aflec—
tion for his young master, was in an agony of
apprehension. Several times he made a move
to go in search of him, but the increasing dark-
ness warned him that this would be useless.
He dared not call. No one could tell what ears
might be within hearing. Deep darkness de-
scended. He continued to wait in terror, while
hour after hour passed. Clark continued ab-
sent.

The honest guide dropped on the ground. He
strove to keep awake, yet ere he knew it slum-
her had settled on his eyes. When he'opened
them a sin the sun was gleaming on the tree-
tops. he night had passed. Anotherda had
beamed” But the missing youth was stil ab-
sent. "

Peter sprung hastily up, determined to go at
once in search. He could bear the suspense no
longer. Yet he had not taken ten ste ere

.thers came to him from the woods a istant

or :

xAhoy, Petcrl Peter, ’hoyi’" . .

There was no mistaking the voice. Peter put
his fingers to his lips and sent out a shrill
whistle in response.

Soon footsteps were heard, and the form of
the missing youth broke into sight, advancing
at a full run.

“The Lord be raised!” exclaimed the over-
Esyed Russian. ‘ I thought I had looked my

t on you.” ‘ ,

“Sound as a trivet," cried Clerk in return.
“The hounds are completely dished, my boy.
They went on down the valley. They must be
ten miles away.”

“ And where have you been! I haven’t slept
a wink for terror.”

“Tell that to the marines,” lau hed Clark.
“1 lost In way in the darkness. t was not

= sale ’to’ ca 1. so I took a woodland bed, and

like 6 porker. “ Had a narrow streak,
“1008'!- They were near enough totouch me,

but seed by without seeing."

“ always said you risk too much. And
what's to do new?“

“‘ Go back for our baggage,” answered Clark.
“ The coast is clear. Men and horses are rested.
Off for Siberia is the word, and a fig for the
Cossacks."

The! were Quickly mounted. and riding‘

e

 

through the woods in search of the place where
they had cached their baggage.

CHAPTER Xll.
ran: LAST BREATH or SUSPICION. r

THREE weeks have passed awa since the
morning in which we left the fugitivesin the
woods of the Volga. The are still at liberty.
It is a bright day in mid ptember. The heat
of the summer has ssed away, and there is a
chill in the breeze t at blows downward from
the north that has in ita premonition of the
coming winter.

But aremarkable change has taken place in
their situation and appearance. We left them
wandering on horseback through the forest.
We find them again on the deck of a broad-bot-
tomed vessel, which is moving slowly, by sail
and ears, up the stream of a narrow and wind.
ing river. We left them dressed as Tartars.
We find them again in Russian attire, though
with something fantastic in their dress.

This radical change had become necessary.
The discomflted Cossacks had spread far and
wide the stor of the fugitives, and had scoured
the country or days in pursuit. The orders 0!
Count Orloif had been to spare no eflort to cap-
ture them, and this was is service just suited to
the Cossack humor. .

As may be imagined, then, the further ro-

ress of the young Yankee and his atten ant

ad not been a safe one. They had managed to
escape arrest but had made several narrow slips.

 

Matters were getting much too hot, and it be-.

came evident that some new disguise and me-
thod of travel must be adopted.

In consequence they had sold their horses to
the Chuvases, a tribe of the Russian aborigines
who were not much given to aid the authorities
in their designs, and had obtained suits of Chav—
asian dresses in exchange for their Tartar cloth-

in .

This attire consisted of white linen trowsers,
and a sort of frock of like material which was
fastened with a girdle around the hi . Strip:
of black cloth were wound arena the legs,
from the foot to the knee.

Thus dressed. and their Tartar horses ex-

changed tor a mule cart, with which they ‘

jogged on slowliy northward, they presented an
appearance wi ely different, from that which
they had lately borne. No suspicion wasraised
in the villages through which they seed, par-
ticularly as Peter seemed able to k in every
Russian dialect.

Several weeks, as above said, passed in this '

journey, at the end of which time they reached
the banks the Ai a small river that flows south-
ward from the U‘ral mountains.

It is a stream of great importance to the
Russians.‘» In fact there is water communica-
tion over all the northern part of Russia. Ves-
sels, laden with the iron and other products of
the Ural mines, move south from river to rivar,
With the aid of short canals, until they reach
St. Petersburg, 1,850 miles away without count-
in the many windings of the rivers.

t_ was on one of the peculiar vessels that navi-
ate these island waters that the travelers now

ound themselves. It was aflat—bottomed craft. ‘ 

l
,, , a \

 

 

x~‘

-1\t,

 

 

 

‘6 , Moscow to Siberia.

‘

 

shout a. hundred feet long, with strai’ht and

arullel sides. Instead of rounding at t e bow
t ended both at how and stern in a sort of tri-
an e.
his boat moved slowly northward, prinoi.
pally by the aid of a pair of huge sweeps. It
was warped past difllcult places by a rope car-
ried to the shore. Here and there a. low, broad
soil was hoisted, to take advantage of a. favor-
able wind.

On the deck of this craft stood our two
friends, full of exultation at having so success-
full distanced the bloodhounds cfthe law.

'1‘ e stream wound through a’narrow valley,
closed in with ranges of hills, which were cov—
ered with woods, except where a patch of mea-
dow here and there broke through. Far aheud
higher elevations could be seen, blue peaks that
stood out against the sky.

“ We are out of the lowlands at last," de~
olnred Clark, as he looked with satisfaction on
the yet distant mountains. " We have been
chased like rabbits through c thousand miles of
your Russian flats. It is good for the eyesight
to see the bills at last.”

“They are the Ural mountains,” explained
Peter. “They are full of mines. Many exiles
are sent there to work. But others are sent to
the Yerschink mines, two thousand miles away.
“ Do you know where our man is?”

“ Somewhere in the rule,” answered Clark.
" Have you been herebcfore, Peter?”

“ I know every foot of the hills, and have

‘, been in every mine,” replied Peter proudly.

. tioned that before!

“The deuce you say! And you' never men-
You are m man for a
thousand. The first thing is to flu Ivan. The
next is to give the guards leg‘baili Are you
with me in that!”

“Anything, Mr. Clark. You pay like a
rince. But I would help you without pay, if I
ad to give my head in our service.”

“Sclid 'oak, Peter. ive me your hand, old

i chap“ Cautious! Here comes our worthy cap<

thin.

rho commander of the vessel, A tall, stalwart
fellow, with a face as brown as a bronze kettle
and as rough as a nutmeg-grater, jomod his pas~
sen are at this moment. .

“ hope you are enjoying your trip," he said
to Clark, fixing his keen e es upon bins.

“‘ Bravely,” answered ‘lark. “ It is a. fine
cOuntr . And the breath of the hills is a sweet
odor r a. month in the lowlands. When Will
you reach your destination captain?”

“ Tomorrow night, if all goes well. By the
way what is our object in 0mg North?”

‘ fhave p in way, I elieve,"auswered
Clark, sharply. “£0 travelers in these regions
have to gay and tell their business both?”

“Yes. replied the ‘ca tain. “One would
think on were not sRuss an that you ask such

a 12 ion."
, i‘here was suspicion in‘the look which he fixed

on his passenger. -
" I am from Odessa," replied Clark, coolly.
“ There we do not live under suspicion, as you

A do here in the North.”

‘ “In

"I hare just‘ been told,” cautioned the cap-
toln, “ of two to hives from the law, who have
powder to this region. One of them

 

17 a youn American, Perhaps in your journey ’

you me. ave met with these reprohatos."

“ We ave met a good many people," answer-
ed Clark, with perfect coolness. “ Can you de~
scribe them?”

“No; I have not heard their description.”

“Very well. You are hoeing the wrong corn-
field if you take me for your man. Here is my
figssport. If vou think I am stray game you had

st take a glint at it.”

There was s. haughty expression in his face as
he handed the formidable parchment to the
commander.
secret threatening sign to Peter, who stood the
Fictlure of consternation behind the captain’s

mo .

The latter deliberately unfolded the porch-
ment, and appeared to read with keen scrutiny
its contents. He looked occasionally from it to
Clark, as if comparing the description with his
person. At len th he folded and returned it
with a respectiu bow. »

“ Issued from the imperial office at St. Peters-
burgl” be queried.

“As you have seen,‘ answered Clark, with a
faint smile on his face. ’

“ It is all correct.
ment’s suspicion. We haveto be wide awakein
these days. I hope you will have 8. pleasant
journey. ’

He turned away to another part of the Vessel.
Clark looked toward Peter, whose face was full
of amazement. . ‘

“ Why, the fellow didn’t read a word of it "
he blurted out. “ He held the document upside
down.”

“ I know it,” answered Clark, dryly.

“ Then what music him say it was all right?”

“ Because he read me instead of the passport.
If I had been scared, like you, our goose would

have been cooked for certain. There’s some— '

thin in keeping a stifl’ upper lip.”

“ ut the story is spreading,” rejoined the
frightened Russian.

“ That’s so. And it will beat us hollow it We

stick to this slow boat. We must hire a horse.

team to-morrow and hurry north. The hours
are growing precious now. If the minin
authorities are put on their guard our cake isa
dough."

The vessel stopped'for the night an hour or
two afterward at a. sharp curve in the stream.
it was moored to trees on the bank, and
the crew collected on shbre around watch-
flges, which the cool night air rendered agree
a e.

Here they passed a jolly evening, singing and

laying on the balaika, or Russian guitar,‘while
{hey drank with great zest the sap of the birch

trees, which they drew from notches cut through ‘

the bark.

Thus the evening passed go. 1y away. Stretch- ,

ed on the green award, Wit no bad but the

assend no coverlng but the sky, they slept

hrough the night as comfortsny as if they had
been in the so at of beds.

The next morning the travelers succeeded in ‘

hiringpsprin less cart and a brace of home

from a peossn in the neighborhood. I
“Good-by, captain,” said Clark, guleé

“You are too slow for us.’ Any news for t

At‘ the some moment he made a .

Excuse me if I had a mo- .

NW’W—«vm .

 

 

 

 

 
 

rear-«v.35

 

 

 

 

 

 

r chain of

'forms the dividing-line between

 

Moscow to Siberia. a 8?

 

mountains! We will be there a day or two
ahead of your slow team."
" You are in a. glory of ahurry," growled the
captain, not too well pleased.
‘Time presses, my dear sir. Good-by, and a
pleasant voyage.”
The captail looked after them somewhat
grimly, as they mounted their vehicle, and
rove rapidly away. '
“Hang me if I don’t believe that young fel—
low is the American after all,” he grumbled.
“If it turns out so, I’ll punch my head.”
Headless of these suspicions the travelers
moved on, slowly ascending the high lands that
bordered the mountains.
_ Two da s afterward they had left the first.
{he Urals behind them, and stood on
the summit of‘a low ridge of hills that ran

’ nearly due north and, south.

“ Do on know where we are?” asked Peter.

“In t e heart of the Urals, I suppose.”

“ We are on the dividing line between Europe
and Asia. You stand at this minute wrth one
foot in Russia and one in Siberia.” _

“ 0n the ground at last, then,” cried Clark in
exultation. “ Now to finish our work.”

 

CHAPTER XIII.
_ A BOLD ENTERPRISE.
" TE]: long chain of the Ural mountains, which
Europe and
Asia, is nowhere of any great hight. No Alpine
Beaks can be seen throughout its whole extent,
ut it makesu for want of hight by richness
of material. t has long been celebrated for Its
valuable mines, which consist principally of
iron lead and gold, of which recious meta the
production is very considerab 8.

Many valuable minerals are also found there
including nmethysts, topams, emeralds, an
other onions stones. ,

Dunng the week which followed their arrival
in the mountains, Clark and his companion
made a thorough examination of the mines,
which stretched for many miles along the chain

0f hills. His passport gave him free admission,

and he silenced allawkward nestions by claim-
ing to be on a scientific expo 'tion for the Gov-
ernment. - " ,

But it was the troops of exiles, rather than
the Iron ore, to which he gave his chief atten-
tion. These unhappy fellows, the unlucky pris-
oners of the stern Russian Government are
forced towork year after year in the dismal
depths of the mines, under the eyes and guns
of guards with orders to shoot them down at a
815551 of an outbreak.

heir life is a hapless and cruel , one, the hard
labors of the day being followed by a night ma
narrow, uncomfortable cabin, where they are
locked up until the next day brln 3 its new
labors. bus day and year pas , Without
hope and without relief, ’

et Clark’s quest seemed lilrel to headse—
less one. The well-known face of van was not
to be seen, though hundreds of the exiles passed
under his notice. All the principal mines Were
examined without eflect.

“ Perhaps he may be released.” said Peter.

. .

 

“Theyare sometimes let off for good behavior,
and sent as farmers to eastern Siberia.”

“ Not those who took part in killing the em-
peror," answored Clark; ” That sort will get (
31% megcy. But I will see if I can find out any-.

ng. hi ‘,

The next nay he questioned the director of the
mine which they had just examined, in regard
to the dissesal of well-behaved convicts.

“That spends on their crime.” he answered.
“ Some are sent here for life. Some for a few _
years only. If a man, however, shows any ,
special talent, he may be sent to the Govern»
ment Work-shops at Perm, to the jewel fac- r
tories, where the precious stones are out, or to
the quarries on the Iset. I sent ofl? two of our
smartest convicts to the latter last week. Here
are their names.” , ‘

He opened the book in which the account or
the exdes was kept. The young Amerizan’s
eyes fell listlessly on the page‘pointed out to
h m, but he had much ado to repress a cry of
joy‘ on perceiving the first of the two names.

here it was, the name of the man he sought.
Ivan Stretzlitzl

He restrained himself with diiflculty,‘ and
forced himself to speak with cool indifference '

“ I see,” he remarked. “ The rogues get much, '
better treatment than they deserve. But the
Government mayas Well at all out of them
they are fit for. What kin of work is done in
these quarries? I have never heard of them”,

‘You must have seen their work. , All sorts - ‘ '
of ornamental stone are turned out. Carved. '

columns, vases, and the like. The stone is not K
cut with a chisel in the usual slow fashion, but ‘
islworked with a cutting edge, moved by water:
power. It is wonderful what work they do, and
ow fast it is turned out.”  ,

“I must certaiw visit these quarries.” re»
marked Clark. “ here are they situated?” w
h “ 0,5: the last river, fifty miles due north from

ere. 1 ' v
“ A long journey to see a umy. But I have ,’
made a much 1011 or one toaslt the mines." .

The next do lurk drove north with a mu- _
tented heart. e had finally succeeded in nail-, .
ing his man. The, worst partof 'the enterprise
lay‘ yet ahead. ' _ . ' ’

he road was a rough one and their progress
not very rapid. ‘ They were two days in» reach, »~
in; the valley 01', the Isat over the rugged,
mountain ways.

The stream was a narrow and swift one that ,
flowed in a.‘ slender valley between We tall ,
walls of rock. One of these formed the quarry ‘
from which was‘obtained the beautiful colored -
stones, which were worked into a rent variet ‘
of shapes in the Government wor shop. Th e
was an extensive building, its power coming

from a great water-wheel set in the swift cur- ' / "

rent of the Iset. . .
It was near evening when Clark reached the ,
locality. As he stoo near the entrance of the *
workshops, talking with the director, to whom 
he had just shown his piassport, the workmen'
filed out their day’s wor being done. *' v
The Shekels boy kept his eyes steadily on
them. But the Easter part passed without a ,
Sign of Ivan’s w known face. ; . '“
, or, ,

we...“

 

  
 

 

 

28 Moscow to Siberia.

 

   

 

“What ails that man who has dropped down
therei Stir him of with your whip, ’ cried the
director to a guar .

The fallen convict sprung hastily to his feet.

‘ Clark looked toward him. A red flush shot in-
to his brow as he recognized the face of the
man he had come two thousand miles, through
all dangers, to resoue. It was Ivan Stretzlitzl

The shrewd youth turned away and entered
into an indifferent conversation with the direc-
tor. But he had caught Ivan’s eye and knew
that he was recognized. The fall of the con-
vict, in fact, had been managed to conceal a.
sudden show of exultation in his face.

“A hang-dog gang,” remarked the disguised
Yankee boy easily to the director. “Do you
not have a good deal of trouble with themi’

“Not much. They are watched too closely.
The whip and the rifle are good persuaders."

“Locked up at night, I supposv?”

“ Oh, yes. We don’t care to have our throats
cut at midnight.”

They walked slowly away. Ivan had assed

on without venturing to look behind. at his
heart was beating high with ho On a
former occasion, on the ice of the eve at St.

Petersburg, he had saved Clnrk Cloverly’s life.

Was the youth here to rope his debt? the hap-

less convict asked himsel . He did not dare

speak to a. companion for fear his very

zones would reveal what was passing in his
cart. '

The next day he pursued his labors with a

. throbbing expectation. Clark passed through
the factory in company with the director, fol-
lowed at a few paces by the shrewd Peter.

Tliey stopped opposite where Ivan was at
war .

“ That is charmingly done," said Clark, point-
ing to the foliage which was worked into the
hard stone. “Is this won an old hand?”

“No, but he is very expert. Take care there,
felflonwl By Heaven, you have ruined that

o l r
‘1 Ivan’s hand had nervously slipped, and the
broad carved leaf was chipped off the stone.
He turned to apologize.
‘9 I am but a new hand, dear sir,” he humbly
Adeclared. ,.

“If you were not I would order you the
whi ," answered the director sternly, as he
wal ed on with the visitors.

As Peter followed he managed to brush very
closeliy; by the convict. Unseen to any of the
guar , a slip of paper passed into the hand of
the latter.

Ivan turned again to his work. The attention
of the guards was diverted toward the visitors.
The convict took the opportunity to hastily
open and peruse the written slip.

It contained but a dozen words, yet they sent
a flush of hope and 'oy through his hronzed
countenance. He quic ly slipped the perilous
paper into his mouth and commenced to chew
t, while he turned again to his work.

The da passed; another succeeded, and Clark

» continue the guest of the director. The latter,
in fact, became more attentive and polite than
he had been on the preceding day, yet there
was something in his manner that was not alto-

 
 

 

gether natural—something that roused a doubt
in the mind of the shrewd young American.

He had sought his room after dinner, when
Peter entered with a stealthy tread and a face
11 ominous meaning.

“What has broke loose now?” demanded

rk.

“ Hush! Moderate your tone! We are in
danger] The story of our escape has reached
here and we are suspected l”

“ How do you know this!"

“I overheard a conversation. I have been
making use of my ears.”

“ I fancied there was something wrong,”
Clark thoughtfully answered. “ The director is
too confoundedly civil."

“ He wants to hold on to us until he is sure,”
answered Peter. “He has sent back to Miash
for a description of the fugitives, and he will
do nothing till he finds if we are the right per-
sons.

“ And what shall we do meanwhile?”

“ We ’must fly 1” cried Peter. “ It will be too
late if we wait till night.”

“ But how about Ivan?” "

“The deuce take Ivanl"

“No we will take him, instead of the dance.
It is all arranged now. He can'slip out from
his work, and remain a half~hour without being
missed. If he can make the grove just below
the factor , all may be right. Our horses are
ready in t e easant’s cabin on the other side of
the wood. nick, Peter—time presses! You
must manage to at this into his hands within
the next hour. will see about the rest.”

He hastil wrote on a narrow slip of paper,
which he olded up very closely. Peter took
the missive and quickly left the‘ room. '

“ I will give it to him in a chew of tobacco,
if there is no other way," he said to himself, as
he sought the factory.

The Yankee boy’s face was very resolute as
he completed his preparations. He accosted the
director very coolly, on meeting him a half-
hour afterward. I A

“ I want to take a look atdgour q ” he
remarked. “Don’t let me turb you from
your duties." ,

“Why, if you can excuse me,” said the
director.

“ Certainly. There is an outcrop of rock
there that looks interesting.”

Clark walked away, humming a verse of a
son . The director followed him with his eyes.

“Bi hardly know,” he muttered. “He looks
honest and innocent.”

Fifteen minutes afterward the young adven-
turer entered the groveto which he had alluded.
He was there but a. few minutes when Peter
joined him, with an excited face. _

“It is done!” he announced. “He will try
it. I saw it in his face."

.“ Then let us ofl. It is a slim chance, Peter.
If we are caught it is all up with us. But never
say die. They’ll not catch me easy.” ,

A half hour afterward they stood at a point a
mile down the river’s course. Both were
mounted on strong and hardy horses. Peter
held the rein of a third horse, ready hridled- and
saddled. They waited impatiently.

U

 

I J)»

 

,s
.1

 

i;
i
s."

l

,..

l
7
l

 

 

 

 

 

 

,

‘ Moscow to Siberia.

“ I hope he will succeed. It is the last
chance," declared the American.

A head lifted above the shelter of a rock near
by. Then a form sprung joyfully up. It was
Ivan the convict! .

“ My preserVerl My sayiorl” he cried, run-
nin toward Clark. With suffused eyes.

“ one of that!” came the hasty warninfg.
‘5 Drop all sentiment till we are out of this a y
hole. Here’s your horse, Ivan. Can you ii 8?”

“ Like a Tartar.”

“ Then mount and away. The hounds will be
sharp on our track within an hour.”

01‘! down the borders of the stream they went
at full 5 ed, the iron hoofs of their horses ring-
ing lou y on its stony bed.

At almost the same instant a sharp cry came
from the factory. ‘

“ A prisoner escaped l”

A dozen guards ran out, with trailed rifles,

"eager and excited. The director came hastily

from his house, drawn by the sudden uproar.

“ What has happened l” he asked.

“ A prisoner has disappeared. Ivan Stretzlitz,
one of the new men.”

.“ Search for him at once. He must be con-
cealed in the neighborhi rod."

As he spoke a horseman rode hastily up, lrorn
the upper . '

“ Back, eh i” cried thedirector eagerly. “ Have
you ot it?” ‘

“ are it is.” r

He hastily tore open the document handed
him and cast is eyes over its contents.

“ y Jove, knew itl The description is ex-
act. They are the runaways. Hurry to the
quarry and ask the stranger to step here.”

_ But the stranger had disappeared. Neither
he nor his servant was to be found.

“ It is a rescue l” cried the director excitedl .

' “The convict has escaped with them! Quic ,

there is no time to lose! Let every place be
searched! Bring out the horses, and fetch me
my pistolsl The wolvesl we will run them
down, it we search all Siberia!”

CHAPTER XIV.
ma LAST LEAP r03 LIBERTY.

ON down the narrow road beside the stream
rode the tugitives at full speed. For an hour
now they had ridden without sight of pursuers
Yet the stream was a winding one. It was im~
Bossible at any point to sin a long look back.

ouhtless the stag-hone s of the law were sharp

 

 upon their track.

The Yankee boy looked anxiously from side

’ to side. It was very unsafe to follow this valley

road, at he saw no way to esca from it. On
one si e ran the river, too rapi to cross. 0n
the other was a. range of wooded hills, Without
an o ning in their rugged walls. _

“ his business begins tolook blue," he said,
with a grlmace. “ We are in a trap here. It

they have good horses at the factory they Will
run us down."

“ They. will haVe to shoot me down before
they can take me." cried Ivan, savagely. “I
’ wil not ‘go back to ca tivity.”

- “We might
it we are

the arses and take to the hills
too close.” suggested the young

“w”

s .

 

.,

American.» casting his eye upon their steep
wooded flanks. »

“ It won‘t do,” answered Pete, shaking his head
decidedly.

“Why not?”

“You don’t know those hills. We would
starve there it we escape capture.”

“And is there no mountain path practicable
for horses? You know this country. ’

“ There is,” rejoined Peter. “ It is a mile or
two ahead. But it is on yonder side of the
river. We cannot reach it. The stream is
swollen by the rains, and no horse alive can
swim it.” ‘ ,

The youn adventurer took a critical look at
the river. file made no answer. It seemed to
be as Peter had said. The river was evidently
impassable. He loosened the pistols in his belt. I

I am with you, Ivan,” he said. “ We will
have». terrible life before us if we are taken
prisoners. A man can die but once, and it We
do we will have company.”

I “ I will never be taken alive,” repeated
van.

They had now gained a straighter reach of
the river. For more than half a mile it ran on- ‘
ward without a‘ curve. On with full 5 eed fled
the fugitives, their horses needing neit er whip «
nor spur. At the end of this reach the stream
abruptly curved. Ere rounding the curve they . I
looked nvoluntarily back. And, at the same
moment, around the distant curve, rode a troop
of horsemen; who flung their caps into the air
at sight of the fugitives. _

" By all that’s good, there they comel” cried
Clark. “ Twenty of them if there’s a man! v
And better mounted than we are.“=\'We've got
to trust to luck now in earnest, my jolly
boys."

“ Trust to luck is a
with set lips. ,

“ What else have we to trust to?"

Ivan said, nothing, but lonked keenly ahead.
The stream ran straight here again, and the
wall of rocks was as unbroken as evsr.

“ Did you not say there was a mountain-pass
hereawaysl” he asked Peter. 1 ‘

“Yes. But it is on the wrong side of the
stream. Look ahead there. 'Do you see the tall,
mossy rock that comes nearly to the water’s
edge?” . ,

H Yes-II ' _ L

“ The pass opens just beyond that.”

Ivan looked at the point in question with
knitted brows. He then cast his eyes back.
Yonder came the pursuers a sin, rounding the
curve which the fugitives ha lately left. ‘

" Trust to luck. on say,” he remarked, with .
stern set lips. “ ere’s something better than '
luck to, trust to, and here goas.”

“ What. are you up to, you madman?”

“ The river is our only chance. We may as
well drown as be hung or shot. Follow me it
you are wise." ‘ ‘~

He turned his horse to the high bank of the
stream, lifted him with the rein and touched
hnn With the whip. A quick, wild leap and in
an instant the noble animal was in the foaming
waters of the rapid stream.

Peter drew back in fear.

poor rule,” replied Ivan,
h

   

 

 

 

 

v - ..:.,..

 

Moscow to Siberia;

 

 

“What is to be done!" he exclaimed. "'No
horse can cross that river alive!”

“This is to be done,” cried Clark. “No
Yankee ever backed water before a Russian.
,Come, Peter. We might as well die by water
as by load.”

In quick succession the two horses plunged
into the perilous stream. A moment’s senti-
 ment of courage had been stirred in Peter‘s

heart.

The three animals, with their bold riders.
were struggling in the swift-flowing waters,
which threatened to bear them on to certain
destruction.

' The pursuers checked their horses up for a

filament at sight of this apparently suicidal

ee . ‘

“ The daring villainsl They will never do it
alive!" cried the director. “Come on‘,’ men.
We may have their corpses to take back.

They rode briskly forward again while the
, fugitives were borne rapidly down the stream,

their horses vainly struggling against its tor-

rent-like current.

Yet Ivan Stretzlitz was not quite mad.
There was one chance for safety and he had
taken it.

At no great distance ahead the stream made
a sharp curve. It was probable that the cur-

, rent would sweep across and hug the bank at
that ioint.

“ eep our horses in mid-channel,”he shout-
ed to Clur and Peter. “ Don’t let them try to
‘swim. The eddv will carry us close to the
mint yonder. Save our strength till then.

ready. It's got to e a sharp struggle when
it comes.”
‘ Theiy were nick to take the cue. The horses
ceasa their c ort to swim‘ as they were guided
into the mid-current. It swept them onward
with frightful speed, curving across as Ivan had
' conjectured. ,

In a few seconds they were near the opposite
bank, not ten feet distant from the steeply~
sloping shore. '

‘ Now,” cried Ivan, guiding his horse toward
the bank.

The animal was quick to perceive his chance
for life, and swam with desperate energy.» 0n
he stvept, drawin momentarily nearer and
nearer. Now not ye feet separated him from

'the shore. Now his feet struck bottom. In a
second, with the activity of a deer, he scram-
‘ bled up the sloping bank.

Varied success attended the efforts of the
other two. Clark’s horse also gained the shal-
lows, and clung desperately to the rocky bot—
tom. But Peter was further out». His animal
struggled desperately, but it was evident that
he would beswopt st the point, around which
the stream ran withnthe speed ora mill-race.

“Your hand, Peter,” cried Clark,‘as his un-
lucky Servant swept past within reach.

,, Peter grasped, as a last hope, the hand ex-

tended to him. A-‘flrm rip, a quick jerk, he
* wasoutoi the saddleand rawn shaignly through
, the water. The horse, with a wil scream of
fear was swept helpless] around the point,
and home onward to who seemed sure destruc-

 

Tfiyohnz America’s horse was nearly Jerked

 

from his insecure footing by the eifnrt. 'But
Ivan, who had leaped from his saddle, caught
the rein of the the trembling animal, and sus—
tained his yielding feet. .

“ Out of your saddle I” he cried. “ We must
he] the horses up this bank. Quick! They
wil be on us in a second."

Peter by this time had gained footin . Clark
sprung from the saddle and eras t e bridle
of his struggling horse. Up t e steep back
they hurried, the Tsure-i’ooted mountain horses
scrambling after them. And down the opposite
side of the narrow river came the pursuers,
with a yell of rage as they saw the success of
the desperate effort of the fugitives.

The bank, though stee , was not high The
three men quickly gaine its upper edge One
of the horses had his forefeet on the unper
level. The other was close behind. At this mo-
ment came a quick flash, a loud roar. and a
storm of bullets swept across the stream.

For the most part they whistled uselessly by.
But the hindmnst horse, with a thrilling scream
of ain, broke from Clark’s guiding hand and
rol edheadlong back into the stream, with a
bullet through his heart.

Atthe same instant the other horse sprung
up to the level, and stood there trembling from
the excitement of his csca . .

“ Quick!" cried lvan. “ Ambush behind the
horse! And run for the pass!”

There was not a moment to lose. As the
three fugitives hid their bodies behind the re-
maining horse there came another wild shower
of bullets, which pattered harmlesst on the
rock face in the rear.

Ivan caught the animal by the bridle and set
him in rapid motion, the men running so as to
keep partly protected behind his body.

They were not ten paces from the rockbe-
hind which 0 cried the pass. A second more
and they would be within its mouth. Had the
pursuers emptied their weapons? No. There
came‘a single flush, a sharp report. The untpr—
tunate horse staggered, and, fell in a crashing
weightto the rocky surface, leaving the three
fugitives revealed. .

‘ On, for your lives!"

Three quick steps, and they had passed the
rock. The mouth of the pass 373qu beiore
them. ‘

Into its sheltering jaws they sprung, and
ambushed themselves behind bowldere that lay
within, while a hoarse yell of triumph rolled,
back across the stream to their diseomflted
fees.

“We have lostour horses: but we have our
19 9. Follow us if you dare.”

he pursuers were silent. They seemed spell-
bound, with their eyes flxed intently on the
stream. The fugitives anxiously looked for the
cause of this threatening silence. ,

In a. minute more it appeared. A bold rider v
had followed their example, and leaped his
horse into the rushing river. He was borne
near to the curving shore. For the moment it
looked asii' he would gain the land. It so, a
dozen might follow. , .’ '

But no! The utmost struggles of the brave
horse were in vain. In an instant he was swept
past the perilous point. The m of dread of

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

‘Moscow to Siberia. ,_ l * 81

 

nurse and rider mingled with the excited cry
from the observers, as the daring pair were
Swe t on to what seemed certain death.

“ ed for our side,” yelled Ivan. “Ipity
the poor devil, but it is life or death now, and
It was us or him. 'Nobody else will dare the
passage. We are safe from that. Come on,
gentlemen. But keep under cover. We are
not safe from bullets yet.”

Up the pass they crept, gliding from bowldcr
to bowlder, for a short distance, until they
gained a. shoulder of rock that efiectuelly pro-
tected them from the spiteful bullets that pat-
tered around them.

“ What now?” asked Clerk.
for the present.”

“But not for long. They will have hill Bconts
on our track before night. We hnvolost on
horses and must go on foot. I wish I kne
these mountains. ”

“ I do." cried Peter. "Follow me.” .

'Up the slo ing1 pass they went. It was so
rock»strewn t at orses would have been useless.
It could only be scaled on foot. The loss of their
horses was not the disaster it had seemed.

We cannot trace their steps in detail for the
next few days. Over mountain after mountain,
through pass after pass. Now along a wild
stream, now over a. level valley. Miles and
miles northward without food and withouta
sight of human habitation. But no trace of pur-
suit appeared. If scouts were after them they
had not struck their trail.

Several days of this toilsome and hungry
travel. Cold winds, full of the breath of win-
ter, blew through these mountains. Ali htsnow,
the herald of the comin season, adde to their
troubles. But Peter 1 on steadily in unorthv
westerly course.

At the end of three days of this diflicult jour-
ney they came out on a snow-covered plain. at

“ We are safe

a
1

THE

the foot of the mountains where, to their delight,
a. cup of rude huts appeared.

n front of them stood several men, un-
browned, well-built fellows, with the high
cheek—bones of the Mongols, and deepest, scowl- ‘
ing e_ es. .

“ and,” cried Peter. “The are Vogals.
They are the hunters of the Nort . We are out
of Russian reach at last. And we can snap our
fingers at the emperor and his minions. His
strongest writ is only waste paper among these
bold savages.”

The much-needed food was readily obtained
from their new hosts, whom Peter soon made
friends with b knowing some words of their
language. An it was not long ere they were
being conveyed in a reindeer sled, over the
snows which here lay deep, fer North beyond
the utmost grasp of the Russian laws. I ’

As to Clark’s after adventures, and how he
finally got safely on shipboard, en route for
America, the story is too long to tell here. But
it was with heartfelt satisfaction that he
gras ed lvnn’s rateful hand, and declared:

“ e are u ts new, my royal fellow. Life
for lite, that 15 my motto. You saved mine.
have repaid by saving yours. And now. if you
‘ ~ - want to breathe a free breath again, you
had better come to America with me._ There
you will have no emperors to plot against, for
yourself and every man you meet is on 7,
emperor on American soil. What say you!”

“ I am with you to the death.” '_ e

" And you, Peter? I can’t leave you behind.” ‘

“America for me. It is hard to leave my
native land. But freedom is better than ones
country, and it all Americans are like lyou, Mr.
Clark, I would give m head to tree on the
Land of the Free and t e Home'of the Bravo.”

And so we leave them, future citizens of the ,

 

great land beyond the seas.

END.

 

 

’  The Montana

 

"BEADL‘E’S POCKET LIBRARY.

 

839 Rardo, the Boy Gy By. By Wm. G. Patten.
340 Billy Bubble’s Big ‘core. BV Churlos Morris.
341 Colorado Steve’s Dash. By Phili S. Warne.
842 Sun -Shot Sam; or, Ned Norriss Nettle. By
Buc sin Sum.
343 Mike. the Bowery Detective; or. Peleg Praneer
otrVermont. By Edward L. Wheeler.
844 The Drummer Sport. By Edward Willett.
845 J uques, the Hardpan Detective; or. Captain
Frisco the Road Aer-ht. By J. C. Cowdrick.
346 Joe. the Chicago Arnh. By Charles Morris.
347 Middy Herbert‘s Prize. By Col. 1’. lngruham.
348 Sharp-Shooter Frank. By Buckskin Sam.
849 Buck. the Miner. By Maj. E. L. St. Vmin. ’
350 Ned, the Slab Cit Sport. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
851 Roe Mountain oh. By Col. T. H. Monstery.
352 New ork Tim; or, The Boss of the Boulevard.
By Charles Morris.
853 The Girl Pilot. By Roger Sturbuek.
364 Joe, the Boy Stage-Driver. By Maj. St. Vruin.
355 Texas Frank‘s Crong; or, The Girl Mustang
Rider. By Buckskin am.
356 Idaho Ned, Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler.
85’? Guy. the Bo Minor. By Col. P. Ingmham.
$18 Jersey Joe, t 9 Old Tar. By Mrs. Orin James.
859 Dandy Dick‘s Dash; or, The Boy Cattle—King.
By Oil Comes.
860 Jnn’s Bi Bonanza. By W. J. Hamilton.
361 Oregon hil,‘tuo Sport. By Philip S. Wurne.
862 Kit, tne Boolblack Detective. By E. L. Wheeler.
863 The Ocean Racer. By T. C. Hnrbnugh.
864 Fritz‘s Old Seore. By Ned Buntline.
. 365 Crack Shot Harr ; or. The Masked Rider. By
.. Colonel Prentiss nm‘ahom.
866 Gold Dust Rock. the Whirlwind of the Mines.
. By G. Waldo Browne.
387 Fred's 'Bold Game. By Paul Bibhs.
368 Jim, the Sport in Woke-up. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
3611 Captain Blake’s Jonah. ly Roger Sturbuck.
370 Denver Kit’s Double. By Major 11. B. Stoddard.
371 Blue Blazes Dick; 01-, Danger Doll 01’ Dynamite.
B Harhauzh. ’ '

372 '1‘ 10 Ben Cat’s Prize. By Col. Prentiss Ingrnham.
8’73 Lorry O‘Lynn's Dash. By Joseph F. Henderson.
1374 Jim. the S ort‘s Biz: Boom; or, The Bonanza.

King’s Riva . By Edward L. Wheeler.

875 Bower Bob, Detective. By Jo Pierce.

376 Bucks in Dick’s Clean Swee : or, Jonathon

' Jenks’ Still Hunt. By Col. Art iur F. Holt.

377 The Deadwood Sports. By Lioui. S. G. Lansing.

873 Bronco Billy. the Saddle Prince. By Colonel
‘Prentiss Ingmham. _

879 ])lek.the Stowaway. By Charles Morris. .

380 Youn Dick 'l‘nlhoi.‘ or. A Boy’s Rough and
Tumb 0 Fight from Mew York to California. By
Albert W. Aiken. ’ ‘

.881 Dandy Bill‘s. Doom; or, Deer-hunter, the Boy
Scout. By OllCooms.

882 Wide-Awake (leer o By Edward Willet.

883 Wild Bill, the Piste Prince. By Col. lngmhum.

, 884 Brimstone Bill‘s Booty: or, Mnriposn Marsh at

- Dead Man’s Gulch. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

'885 The ‘Boy Tram s. By J. M. Hoffman.

id; 01', Little Dan Rock’s Mis-

sion. By Morris Redwing.

. 387 The Boy Detectives. By T. C. Harbaugh.

888 The Pony Express Rider; or, Buffalo Bill’s
Frontier Feats. By Col. Prentiss inurahnm.

389 New York Bill. the Dori or By Edward Willett.
890 The Tlcket-of-Leave’s rick; or. Spring Steel,
King of the Bush. By J scph E. Badger, Jr.

391 Charleav Skylark, the Sport. By Magor Henry

B. Sto (lard.

892 Texas Jack. the Mustang King. By Colonel
Prentiss Ingraham.

898 Peter the undy Greenhorn. By Noah Nuft.

894 Tom emple‘s Big Strike. By Barry nggold.

895 Harry. the Country Boy, in New York. By

. ChmesMorris.

 

396 Detective Paul’s Right Bower. By C. D. Clark.
.397 Tip Tressell the_Flntbon.t Boy. By Ed. Willett.
{398 CaptainJach in Rock Roost. By Col. ingmham.
.599 Henry Somers, the agician. By W. Pierce.
400 Black Horse Bill, the Bandit Wrecker. By
Roger Starbuck.
401 _'l‘11n the Mule Boy of the Mines. By Chas. Morris.
402 Flat oat Fred on the Mississippi. By E. Willott.
403 Jake, the Colorado Circus Boy. By Bryant
Bainbridge.
404 Texas Charlie’s Wild Ride. By Col. 1’. Ingraham.
405 “Hie-Awake Ned; or, The Boy Wizard. By

Barry Ringgold.
406 Giant Pete and His Pards. B T. C. Harbaugh.
’fle‘s Secret. By

407 Old Rnff’s Protege; 01', Little
Captain Bruin Adams.

408 Stowasz Dick Abroad. By Charles Morris.

409 Doctor arver, the Champion Shot. By 001. P.
Ingrnham. _

410 Captain Fl -By-Night, the Colorado King-Pin
3y Jos. E. edger Jr.

411 New York Jack’s heme. By Barry Rin old.

41.2  1:S‘zpence. the Brondhorn Boy. By ward

’i e . > '

413 Revolver Billy in Texas. By Col. P. In raham.

414 Dasher Dick's Dead Lock. By J. M. oflmnn.

415 Pony, the Cowboy Chief. By B. B. Stoddard.

416 Panther Dick’s Death Lea . By A. F. Holt.

417 Fighting Fred of Frisco. y T. C. Harbau h.

418 Buckskin Sam‘s Wild Ride. B Col. P Ingra am.

410 Frisco Guy‘s Big Bonanza. y Roger Smrbuck.

4:30 Pet Mulroonyls Pard. B Emerson Rodmnn.

421 Tim, the Boy Acrobat. y Charlesyllrlorris.

422 Red Spur deh. the Texan. By C D. Clark.

423 Dashing Bob. the Pony Express Rider. By 001.
Prentiss Ingraham. .

4'24 Tom Stone, the Old Sen Dog. B C. D. Clark.

425 Durky Jumble’s Wild Ride. By ar Ringgold."

426 Wolf-Cup; or. The Night-Hawks o the Fire.
Lands. y Capt. Chas. Howard.

427 Bessie. the Border Girl. By Henry J. Thomas.

428 Nab askn Charlie. By Col. P. Ingraham.

429 Bill Bocler's Bonanza. Br Edward Willett.

430 Long Shot; or, The Dwarf Guide. sBy Captain
Crvmstock.

431 Lillie, the Reckless Rider. By Maj. H. B. Stod-
dard, Ex-Scont.

432 Cool Clerk‘s Rush Race. By Charles Morris.

433 Old Grizzly in the Rockies. By Col. Prentiss
lngrahum. ' ‘ ‘

484 Joe. the Rover Sport. By A. H. Post.

435 An Irish Sport Abroad. By C. L. Edwards.

436 Oregon Josh, the Wizard Rifle. By R. Starbuck.

437 Dctociive J nke’s Clo w. liy H. B. Stoddard.

438 Fancy Frank’s Drop. By Col. P. Ingraham.

439  or, The Mountain Heroine. By Ed.

1 o . *

440 The Death Shot. By Joseph .E, Badger,rJr.
441 Wistah, the Child Spy. By George Gleason.
442 Dirk, the Sea. Dandy. By Roger Starbuck.
448 The Masked Avenger. By Col. P. Ingreham.
444 Cool Clark‘s Dead-Set. By Charles Morris.

445 Old Pegs, the Mountaineer. By L. W. Carson
Ready July 20th. '

446 Black Panther, the Half-Blood. By Joseph E.
Badger. Jr.
Ready July 27th.

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