a wing al of} what kind $00 gol rtainly: . 0 pit wt c Ria same P «pend PO Ve intend Kye men mn and 60m “ i you fd are £00 ase f your ye ovary sean J ritteD on te ol. 1. gh st? jar as th? painted # , Acdece Og “to ad eet. ad p pave 2G Je ins 9 a é - = | GOOD NEWs | # . 22 / COUPON. | = # yp Pp GD “iffy if i Oy LY p Ya po OM Ld Wei ddd Entered According to Act of Congress, in the Year 1890, by Street & Smith, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D.C. Entered as Second-class Matter at the New York, N. Y., Post-Office, October 23, 1890. puns mihmdcapie Sete ee eee eRe Net men taste eee tse sh at tet tue tee teehee TO e tae eet es ete Ce eet eet teh Baht SOFT FT OM eee e Mee 8 One ne ne ne eet wel teh MeN EME OM eM eM ee ee ota ene nee emer n ge ngM gle GOO Fe so ehy er oN REM, OMe OME oe Oasis Vo TREET & S) lishers, Te CEN ->ER COP eh $i Bose Wien PG. Bot OT34. New York, October 23; 1890. sidhedelivtion Pelee Gshe Weis: No. 24 aN erh at yee one 6% Pe er® et ail Te ie he del bled hd hel he a te PR FUP OTOP eh ge ye ee eet ye ast eg heehee gH Oge het ST She, Pere, OO Oe Ot at Ot yt Meet nen ee age Heth gh Oat hae Mae ne ae ne a eMas GUY HARRIS, THE RUNAWAY. By HARRY CASTLEMON. Author of ‘A Sailor in Spite of Himself,” “Frank, the Young Naturalist,” True to His Colors,” “Frank in the Woods,” “The Steel Horse,” “The Rod and Gun Club,” “Snowed Up,” etc., etc., ete Eannrs, THE RUNAWAY,” was commenced in No, 16. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.) see that every one of them was as white I IDNIG as a sheet. When they reached the deck stark HT came at last, and the|they all cast suspicious glances back wa oard watch was called. Guy | into the forecastle, as if they were afraid 7 hespened to be standing near the | that there might be something following ? the iA, of the bowsprit as they came|them. Beyond a doubt the ghosts -had der, and he was astonished to| manifested themselves in some way. So CHAPTER XVI.—(Continued.) ms =— WY | a 5 ea Se ee ——— —— THE MATE AIMED A ————SSSSSS x mit eee HICH THE YOUTH ELUDED. —SS-_SS===== HNN PT URRCH AAAS AAS ha 1] NILE i GEE Rm > ‘NDOW, AND saw EVER US Pon | suet ial} eee WV Tt \ Tt \ AUTH \ | HIS FOOT HAD ALMOST TOUCHED THE WHARF, WHEN A STICK OF STOVE-WOOD STRUCK THE RAIL WITHIN AN INCH OF HIS HEAD. ham. “You see, one night, during a gale, some of the crew were sent aloft to cut away tbe main topsail, for it was blowing too hard to furl it. One man was lost overboard—he was blown fairly off the foot-rope, they tell me—and every night after that his ghost used to get up on the main topsail yard, and sing out: ‘Stand from under!’ I never heard him speak, but I’ve seen him often.” “He was the gray-haired sailor’s crony, and who, like him, had made one voyage in the Santa Maria. ‘“Where’s Upham?” “Here,” replied the owner of that name. “Have you seen ’em?” “No; but I’ve heard ’em. He’ll be up directly.” “He? Who?” asked Flint, uneasily. “Why, the ghost of the man who was lost overboard a few years ago,” said Up- “So have I,” said Upham’s crony. looks like a rat.” “But what did you see in the forecastle?” asked Flint. “Nothing; but we heard ’em talking and going on. They’re in the hold now.” “Go below, you lubbers!” shouted the second mate. “This is the third time I have spoken to you, and if you don’t pay and his opinion was con- © whispered words he over. was the first to reach the tong may Meise as white as a lands- fey mst ei your face will be white, inutieg » lave been down there a/| » 4&nswered the man, who 3S7O some attention [’ll start you down faster than you want to go.” The men belonging to the port watch ran quickly down the ladder to avoid the handspike which the officer began to swing about in close proximity to their heads. Guy was the last to leave the deck. Tired and utterly discouraged as he was he would rather have spent the rest of the night in work than go into the forecastle. He scouted the idea of ghosts, but when such men as Flint and Upham showed signs of fear, he believed that it could not be without good reason, and that there must be something to be afraid of. He trembled violently, and his face was as pale as those of the rest of the watch. “Aha! see him now, mates!” exclaimed the gray-headed sailor, pointing to Guy as he came down the ladder. “Here’s the chap that knows mor’n all the rest of us ut together !—a regular sea-lawyer. Now ook at him!” “Listen! listen!” said one of the watch, suddenly. The sailors all held their breath, and a silence deep as that of the grave reigned in the forecastle. This continued for a few seconds, and then a low, moaning sound, like the wail of some one in in- tense bodily agony, fell upon their ears with startling distinctness. It seemed to come to them through the bulkhead that separated the forecastle from the hold. Guy listened in great amazement. The cold chills began to creep ali over him, and his face grew a shade paler than ever. “Don’t be afraid, my son,” said Upham, mockingly. “It’s only the creaking and groaning of the rigging. You’ve heard it often, so it needn’t scare you.” “No, it isn’t the rigging,” said Guy; “it’s the boxes of freight rubbing against one another.” “Well, [ never knew before that boxes of freight could talk,” said one of the watch. “Just listen to that!” “Oh, heavens! I can’t stand it! I can’t stand it!” came in muffled tones from the hold. “Take it off, or I shall die!" This was followed ‘by a low, murmur- ing sound, as of several persons in ear- nest conversation, and then all was still. , Guy's philosophy was not proof against such a manifestation as this. There was something in the hold beyond a doubt, and what else could it be but the ghostly crew the Santa Maria was supposed to carry? “There’s been awful things done aboard this craft,” said Upham, shaking his gray head solemnly. “Nobody knows how many poor fellows have been knocked overboard on dark nights by them two mates.” “Great Scott!” soliloquized Guy, jump- ing into his bunk and drawing the blanket over his head. “I never thought of that. Who knows but that the first mate may be watching for a chance to knock me overboard?” The old sailor’s words had excited a ‘train of serious reflections in Guy’s mind. A man who could deliberately attack another with the intention of, robbing and throwing him into the harbor, would be none too good to make an end of the boy who had given evidence against him. | There was but one thing he could do in his helpless situation, he told himself, and that was to watch the mate closely and be in readiness to seize the first op- portunity to desert the vessel. A The pvight wore slowly away, and another miserable day dawned for the runaway. He was kept very busy, for the mates always found some work that he could do, but still he had leisure to observe that there was something un- usual going on among the men. They gathered in little groups to converse when the officers were not looking: at them, and Upham talked privately with every one of the crew, Guy alone eas acne He seemed to be urging some sort of a move- ment among the sailors, but what it was Guy could not find out, for no one, not even Flint, would enlighten him. Was it a mutiny? Guy hoped it was, and placed a handspike where he could seize it at a moment’s warning. If force were resorted to, he would get in at least a blow or two in return for the barbarous treatment to which he had been sub- jected. Nothing was done until three o’clock, and then the captain came on deck as usual to smoke his after-dinner cigar. His appearance seemed to be the signal the sailors were waiting for.. They dropped their work at once, and, headed by Upham, marched aft in a body, CHAPTER XVII. THE GHOSTS OF THE SANTA MARIA, SP ELLO! what do you want here, rou lubbers?” demanded the eap- C tats as the sailors, headed by > Upham, ranged themselves on the uarter-deck in front of him and took off hel caps. “I don’t allow any such doings as this aboard my ship. Go for'- ard where you belong,” ; deal with such | step down into the cabin and | once. GOOD NEWS. “We haven’t come for any mischief, sap’n,” said Upham, who had been chosen to do the talking for his companions. “We're all sailor men, and know our duty.” “Then go for’ard and do it,” said the skipper, angrily. “Away you go.” *We’re ready to obey orders, cap’n, and you sha’n’t have a word of fault to find with none of us, if you will only think up some way to git rid of them other fel- lows. It’s more than human flesh can tte . stand to have them aboard here.” in an encounter with ghosts. “What other fellows?” “Why, them in the hold that keeps up such a wailing and groaning all the while.” “Get out o’ this!” shouted the captain, looking about the deck as searching for something to throw at Up- ham’s head. “I’ve heard enough. You pulled the*wool over the eyes of a lot of soft Tommys on’shore and kept us wait- ing three days for a crew, but you can’t talk any of your ghost stories into me. | turned to retreat. y , g Go to your duty.” “We've done our duty since we’ve been | aboard, cap’n,” returned Upham, “and we're ready to keep on doing it if you will only get rid of that other crew, but not a tack or sheet do we touch ‘till this | thing has been looked into. We've all made up our minds to that.” “Oh, you’re going to mutiny, are you?” roared the skipper, his face growing pur- | ple with fury. “I’ll show you how [| men. Mr. Schwartz, just bring up | my pistols.” | [he second mate started in obedience to | the order, but the sailors, who were} drawn up in line across the deck, moved | forward as one man, and stood between | him and the companion-way. Things were getting serious, and Guy, who stood on the outskirts of the crowd, began edging his way toward the bow. Was he going after his handspike? No; he intended to dodge into the forecastle, where he would be safe. If the captain was going to use fire-arms. to bring his crew to their senses, he did not want to be found in the way of the bullets. The skipper’s actions indicated that he | was in just the right humor to do some- thing desperate. He stamped about the deck and swore at the top of his voice, but it was plain that, in spite of all his. bluster, he was cowed. by the bold front of his crew. When he paused to take breath, Upham spoke. “We don’t want to go agin yer, cap’n,” said he, “and we don’t want to talk no ghost stories into you, neither. All we ask of you is to come down into the fore- castle and listen to ’em with your own ears. I’ve heard ’em, and I hain’t a boy to be scared at nothing. I snuffed salt water before you ever saw daylight.” The captain seemed on the point of mak- inganangry reply, but just then the second mate, after holding a short consultation with the first officer, stepped up and said something to him in a whisper. The sailors could not hear what it wasy but | they saw the skipper’s face brighten at ’ “It may be possible,” said he, aloud. “I did not think of that. Come on, men; I’ll soon get at the bottom of the matter.” The captain led the way into the fore- castle, and the sailors flocked down the ladder after him, Guy bringing up the rear. “Now fetch on your :ghosts,” said the skipper, seating himself on one of the bunks. “Avast heaving a minute, cap’n, and you'll see ’em,” said Upham. The silence that followed continued so long that the sailors began to get impa- tient, but not so the captain. The few words the second mate whispered in his | ear had aroused some suspicions in his mind, and he was resolved that they should either be confirmed or entirely set at rest before he left the forecastle. Ten minutes passed, and then the groans that had startled the crew the night be- fore were distinctly heard, followed by the low murmur of conversation. The captain seemed very much annoyed. He arose from his seat, and placing his ear close against the bulk head, stood there listening intently until the sounds ceased. “They’re there sure enough, cap’n,” said Upham. “You see that we wasn’t com- plaining of nothing.” ° “T am satisfied of it now,” was the re- ply. “Get lanterns, a couple of you, and all the port-watch come with me into the hold. Bring handspikes, every mother’s son of you.” “Handspikes won’t do no_ good,’ growled Flint, after the captain had as- cended from the forecastle. “No,” assented Upham. “I never yet heard of a ghost being knocked down and put in irons.” Judging by the expression on the faces of the sailors, there was not a man in the port watch who did not wish that some- body besides himself had been called upon to accompany the captain. The alarm that prevailed among them was ’ . | if he were! the |men, whoever they were, | |} way to it. He believed, with Flint and | Upham, that there was something in the |hold that could not be overcome with | weapons, and when he went aft with his watch, armed like the rest with a |handspike, he stationed himself at the | heels of the captain with the determina- ition to keep close to him. He had faith in the skipper’s courage and prowess, and, moreover, he saw that the latter |carried pistols in his pockets. Pistols were better than handspikes any day, even In obedience to the orders of the mate, one of the hatches was opened, and the captain descended into the hold, followed by the port watch. Slowly they made their way along a narrow passage toward place where the water-butts were istowed, and when they came _ within sight of them they stopped, astonished by the scene presented to their gaze. Some of the sailors took just one look, and then uttered exclamations of alarm and Guy would have done the same, only he could not. He was so badly frightened that he could neither move nor speak. A portion of the cargo had been broken out, forming a clear space about six feet square and as many feet deep, and’ in it were seated the objects that had excited his alarm—not ghosts, but living men, who held cocked pistols in their hands, and whose faces denoted that they were anything but pleased at. the “discovery of | their hiding place. In the center of this clear space was a fourth man, lying flat | on his back, and pinned down by a box | of goods which had doubtless been thrown upon him by the lurching of the vessel. ‘The box was so large and heavy, and his-companions had so little room. to work in, that they had not been able to release him; and there the poor fellow had lain for long hours suffering intense agony, which was increased by every lurch the vessel gave. He it was who had given utterance to the groans which had so greatly alarmed the crew. The had come on board prepared for a long voyage, for they had brought with them a large bag of provisions, and had tapped one of the butts to get a supply of water. “Well,” said the captain, as soon as the volley of exclamations which arose from the sailors had subsided, so that he could make himself heard, “this thing has turned out just as I expected it would. You’re the lads that robbed the jewelry store, I suppose.” “Why, so they are!” exclaimed Guy, who now comprehended the matter per- fectly; “I knew they couldn't be ghosts.” “Who and what we are is no business of yours,” answered one of the men, gruffly. “Tt isn’t, eh?” exclaimed the captain. “T am master of this ship, if you only knew it. Come up out of that.” “No, we'll not go up, and if you know when you are well off you’ll not come down to us, either. We are all armed, as you see, and the first man who makes a move to lay a hand on us will get a bul- let through his head.” *“Cap'n,” said Flint, who was brave enough, now that he knew they had live men and not dead ones to deal with, “fust say the word and I’ll jump down there and toss that fellow out before he knows what is the matter with him.” ‘ “No, no,” said the captain. “Stay where you are. I know how to deal with ‘em. Where are you lads going?” he added, holding one of the lanterns over the robbers’ hiding-place and taking a good survey of it. “We're going wherever the ship goes,” was the surly reply. “Well, you’ll have a good long ride. This cargo will not be broken out under seven or eight months. Have you got provisions enough to last you that long?” “You needn’t lose no sleep in worrying about that.” “T won’t, for it’s your lookout, not mine, Hadn’t you better let merig a whip and hoist that box off that man? It’s a pity to keep him in that fix.” “And after you get it hoisted off you would try to come. some of your sailor tricks over us,” said the robber. “We ain’t quite so green as that. You just go off and attend to your own business. We'll take care of him.” “All right. Mark you now, my fine lads, I’m going to close and_ batten down my hatches, and they sha’n’t be opened again until we reach port, no matter what happens. If the ship goes to the bottom you go with her, and without a chance to save yourselves.” The skipper turned and crawled back toward the hatchway, as he said this, and the watch followed him. They found their companions on deck impatiently awaiting their return, and when they heard what the captain had to say to his mates, and learned that the men in the hold were not ghosts, as they had. sup- posed, but a gang of burglars, who, in spite of the vigilance of the watch, had succeeded in smuggling themselves on contagious, and even (Jny began to give board before the ship left port, their sur. prise knew no bounds, Their fac 7 wellas the long, deep sighs which from their broad chests, showed relief was fully as great as theiré ment. Guy, and the four mem found on board the Santa | he first joined her, knew more 09 matter than anybody else, except cers, they having been on deck W policeman was talking with the about the burglars. They were 0? repeat all they had heard over again, first to one and then to and Guy always wound up by that that was the way all ghos turned out—they could be. G&S easily enough if people would 0m” the trouble to look into them. “Avast there!” said Upham, W2 pened to overhear this last remars: ain’t done with the old Santa Ma You hain’t seen the ghost who the main topsail-yard every nig a gale and says: “Stand from under !” Fe By the time the hatches had al closed and securely fastened, t came up out.of his cabin, where.” been busy with his chart. A _1&™ orders, which Guy, as usual, ae comprehend, were issued, @ stood off on another courses “The old man isn’t letting under his feet,” said Flint to ta came down out of the top. “Hes to get rid of them fellows.” — ~ 4 mh = = —_ FS S — = elon Goonp NEWS. S71 Caught, or you’ll sup sorrow with a spoon as big as a water-butt.” This made Guy open his eyes. He had Not expected to find any serious obstacle In his way. If the ship came to anchor in the harbor to which they were bound, especially if they arrived there during the Night, it would be but little trouble. for Im to drop overboard from the Chains and swim ashore, provided distance were not too great; and if she Were made fast to the dock, it would be Still less trouble to leave her. But now he knew that the officers would be on the Watch, that they well understood every device that could be resorted to by de- Serters, and that if he were caught in the act of leaving the vessel, the treatment he had hitherto received would be mild in Comparison with the punishment that Would be inflicted upon him. The thought almost took Guy's breath away, but. it did not discourage him. He had fully Made up his mind to desert the vessel if It were within the bounds of possibility, and was not to be easily frightened from 1S purpose. fe conferred with Flint at every oppor- Unity, and made all necessary prepara- tons, selecting the clothes he intended to take with him, and tying them up in a Separate bundle together with the “Boy rappers,” the book that belonged to enry Stewart. This book Guy had care- fully preserved. It was the only thing € had left of the hunting outfit which € had brought with him from home. On the third day after the discovery of | 16 robbers in the hold, land was in sight | Mice more, and at nine o’clock in the ®vening the Santa Maria entered the port Sward which the captain had shaped her “Ourse, and was made fast to the wharf. muy did not know what the name of the town was or what country it was in, and he did not think to inquire. All he vared for was to get safely off the vessel ; € could get his bearings afterward. th, S soon as the ship touched the dock € captain jumped ashore, and hurried 4Way in the darkness—he was going after ‘ome officers to arrest the men in the Old, Flint said—and Guy ran orecastle to make ready for his attempt desertion. He hastily pulled on the Clothes he had selected, secured the “Boy exappers” about his person, and having ‘S money was safe, presented himself be- ore his friend, who nodded approvingly. ‘It’s all right,” said the sailor. “You'll Pass in the dark. Now stand here by the th “y and I'll go aft and keep an eye on| io Mates. When I see that they are Way king toward you, I'll cough this qa uere Flint gave an illustration— Old clo you jump ashore, and run as if Dion: ep was after you with his three- Withee” pitchfork. 1 can’t shake hands Dect, you for fear they’ll see me and sus- fe something; but you won’t forget Will you, Jack?” te on ” replied Guy. oy Kind to me, and Under any “You have been I wouldn’t leave other circumstances.” inf tint, who did not care to prolong the lean ge walked leisurely aft, and Guy niea over the side and impatiently Waited for the signal, CHAPTER XVIII. ON SHORE AGAIN. WOR ten minutes—it seemed an hour to him—Guy stood there with his , hands on the side waiting for the * Signal which was to tell him that t 8 > > & stroment had arrived for him to make ae for his liberty; but Flint did not any began to get impatient. 1 Rive He looked re pene deck, but, although the crew Payiy, 1 sight, none of them seemed to be i any attention to him or his move- the}. , The first mate was standing at ing 4°24 of the companion ladder, gaz- ard the light-house at the en- © of the harbor, and the second Re the one he most feared, was _no- -.» 9 be seen. But for all that, he was Saw hi” and on the watch, too. Flint Not, Rive’ and that was the reason he did Im ee the signal for which Guy was so ™ ently waiting. €very; hj oiant officer, who seemed to see Vege.) 12g that took place on board the k snew Guy's plans as well as_ he be hem himself, for he had crouched eared of the ladder and looked down for or ecastle while Guy was prepar- hi he ee attempt at escape. ; im as pave S first thought was to seize . ta Came on deck and shake him litt] as Superfluous clothing; but after © reflection he decided to adopt pac of penleneen. He would > my was about to leave the Wonj qin then give him a lesson that he 9 Fling ber as long as he lived. ne urned away after taking leave Young friend, he saw the mate ng behind the long boat, holding and a stick of wood which he had P as he passed the galley, = a Nto In . ter n Ww shiv’ Unti of is or tis in vehi fore- | the | into the | amined his monk-bag to make sure that | | wrists. The sailor knew in an instant why he was there, and would have turned back to warn Guy, but the officer, divining his intention, made an impatient gesture | pass on, | Guy waited and listened, growing more |and more impatient, until at last he could no longer control himself. The | Wharf was almost within reach of him, and if: his feet were once firmly planted | upon it, his escape could be easily accom- plished. A few quick bounds would carry him out of sight in the darkness, and if he were followed, he could creep into some alley or door-way and remain there until the danger was past. He resolved to try it. He put one leg over the rail, paused an instant to make sure that the movement had not attracted: attention, then threw the other over, and lowered slowly toward the wharf. His feet had almost touched it, and Guy was already congratulating himself on his. escape, when a stick. of stove-wood, seca with all the force of a sinewy arm, whis- tled through the air, and striking the rail within an inch of his head, bounded off, and feil into the water. Had. it | struck him, as the mate fully intended it should, when, he sent it fiying from hana, it would have knocked him sense- less. While Guy was looking all around to see where the missile came from, the offi- cer arose from his concealment and | showed himself. “That was a pretty good shot,” said | he, “but the next one will come closer | than that. Crawl back, you lubber, Now,” | he added, as the boy tremblingly obeyed, | “vo below, and stay there till I-call you.” | As Guy started off in obedience to the | order, the mate hastened his movements by aiming a blow at him with his fist, and following it up by a vicious kick with his heavy boot; but the boy, having learned to be always on the lookout. for these favors, nimbly eluded them both. “I wish I were.a man for a few min- ladder into the forecastle and began pull- ing off his extra clothing; “I'd settle with you, Mr. Schwartz, and pay you back in your own coin. I’ve failed once, but I’ll not fail the next time I try it. I'll have more time at San Francisco, for Flint | says we’re going to discharge our cargo | there. Perhaps it is just as well, after all,” he added, determined to look on the bright. side, if there was any, “because when I reach San Francisco I shall be | but a short distance from the Rocky | Mountains, and can begin the life of a | hunter as soon as [ please. Don’t I wish | I was there |gun, and such a dog as_the boy trappers | had! Never mind, I’ll have them one of | these days, if I only live to get off this vessel,” About the time Guy was ordered below by the second mate, the captain returned, accompanied by three or four policemen. Guy heard them open the hatch and go into the hold, and remembering that the robbers had promised to make a desperate resistance, he listened to their movements with no little anxiety, momentarily ex- pecting to hear the sounds of a fierce struggle going on among the freight, but nothing of the kind happened. The sight of the locusts and badges borne by the officers of the law took all the courage out of the burlgars, who quietly passed up their weapons and al- |lowed handcuffs to be slipped on their The box was then hoisted off the | other burglar, and he was placed upon a | stretcher and carried ashore. It was all done in five minutes, and when Guy was ordered on deck to assist in getting the vessel underway—or rather to stand by and look on while the others did it—the policemen and their prisoners had disap- peared in the darkness. This was the last incident worthy of record that happened while Guy remained on board the Santa Maria. Nothing oc- curred to break the monotony of the voy- age, which continued two hundred and ten days, and which our runaway after- ward looked back upon as the dreariest part of his existence. With the robbers disappeared all traces of that “other crew” of which the sailors stood so much in fear. The most super- stitious among them kept aclose watch fora few nights, starting at every un- usual sound, and, when the wind fresh- ened during the mid-watch, casting anx- ious glances toward the main-topsail yard, where the ghost who shouted “Stand from under!” was accustomed to station himself. But nothing startling was ever seen or heard, and the men finally ceased to speak or think of the matter. Flint came in for some slight punish- ment for assisting Guy in his attempt to desert the vessel, and Upham and- his crony were hazed for a day or two for keeping the ship waiting in port for a crew, but the mate’s ill-will seemed to wear itself out ab last, and then things his | utes,” thought Guy, as he ran down the}! now with a good-horse and | with his hand, and Flint was obliged to | himself | | great size and exceeding beauty. |quized Guy, carried fairly up jand loom up until they became | snow-capped mountains; the dreary fore- | went on smoothly with everybody except the runaway. Mr. Schwartz could not forget that Guy had tried to impose upon him by rating himself as an able seaman, when he scarcely knew the maintruck from the keelson, and he did not intend that Guy should forget it either. He never allowed him. a mo- ment’s peace while he was on duty, and sometimes, when he felt particularly vin- dictive, he would keep him on deck long after the rest of the watch had gone be- low. Guy’s life almost became a burden to him. The only pleasure he found was in looking at the pictures in the “Boy Trappers,” and dreaming of the easy, glorious existence he would lead when once he became a hunter. When he tumbled into his bunk he would lie awake for hours building his gorgeous air-castles. Under the influence of his lively imagination the walls of his dingy quarters would seem to widen out castle, smelling of tar and bilge-water, would become a beautiful glade decked with flowers and embowered with trees; the smoky lantern would grow into a cheerful camp-fire; the weather-beaten walls would change into tall, broad- shouldered hunters. and trappers; the chests, which were ranged on one side of | the forecastle, would take the shape of } horses staked out to graze, and the cloth- ing hanging about would be transformed into buffalo humps and juicy haunches of venison. Then Guy would imagine himself} stretched out on his blanket among these | wild, congenial spirits, wearing coon- skin cap and dressed in a full suit of buckskin, gaudily ornamented (he couldn’t be a full-fledged hunter without ! a coonskin cap and a suit of buckskin, es- | pecially the latter, which, according to} the cheap novels he had read, always set off the wearer’s “slender, well-knit frame to such good advantage”), his “deadly rifle, with which he could drive a nail or snuff a candle at sixty yards’ distance,” lying by his side; his tomahawk, hunt- ing-knife and lasso hanging from a tree over his head, his fierce wolf-dog, that could pull down a buck or throttle an In- dian with all ease, reposing at his feet, and his horse, an animal which had car- ried him safely through many a desperate fight with savages and wild beasts, and which for speed and endurance was never equaled, grazing a little apart from the others, and rendered conspicuous by his ; “And suppose this horse was the cele- prated white pacer of the plains,” solilo- to the seventh heaven of happiness by his wild dreamings; a horse that no living man had ever ridden until I caught him with my own lasso and tamed him with my own hands! Ah! And suppose these men were government scouts and I was the chief of them! ‘The Boy Chief of the Rough Riders of the Rocky Mountains!’ Whew! Wouldn’t that be a sounding title, though! Oh, I'm bound to make myself famous before J am ten years older, Dear me, I wonder if this miserable ves- sel will ever reach San Francisco?” When Guy dropped to sleep at last it would be to revel in such scenes as this, until the hoarse voice of the second mate brought him back to the realities of earth again. He lived in this way just seven months—how careful he was to count the lofty, | days as they dragged slowly by—and when at last he was beginning to despair, and to believe that the voyage never would have an end, Flint one day pointed out something in the horizon which looked like a cloud, but which he said was land, adding that he had heard the first mate say that if they had no bad luck they would pass the Golden Gate in about three days. Guy had been waiting most impatiently for this announcement, and now he could not have told whether he was glad or sorry to hear it. He longed to feel the solid ground under his feet once more, but there was an obstacle in the way of his getting there that he dreaded to en- counter. That was the second mate, whose eyes followed every move he made while he was on deck. Since he detected the boy in his attempt to desert the vessel, the officer had been more brutal than he was before; and he had promised, too, that if he caught Guy in any more tricks of that kind he would knock him overboard the very first good chance he got. ; Guy believed that the mate fully in- tended to carry it out. Flint thought so, too, and advised extreme caution. He and Guy held many a long consultation, but could decide upon no definite plan of operation. The only thing the boy could do was to be governed by circumstances, | and this time be careful not to act in too great a hurry. ~ On the afternoon of the fourth day after land was discovered the Santa Maria en- tered the harbor of San Francisco and came to anchor, where she was to remain a day or two—so Guy heard—before she was hauled into the wharf. No sooner had she swung round to her anchor than one of the boats was put into the water, and when it had been manned the cap- tain came on deck carrying a basket on his arm. “Pass the word for Thomas,” said he. Guy heard the call, and was hurrying aft in response to it when he was met by the second mate. “Look here, my hearty,” said the offi- cer, “you’re to go ashore to carry the cap- tain’s basket. But listen now—no non- sense. I know every hole and corner in ’Frisco, and if you awe come back with the old man I’ll be after you with a sharp stick, and if I catch you—well, you know me.” The mate finished with a peculiar nod of his head, which had a peculiar mean- ing in it. Guy picked up the captain’s basket in obedience to a gesture from that -gentle- man, and followed him into the boat. His mind was in such a whirl of. excitement and uncertainty that he took no note of what was going on around him. Here was a chance for liberty, but he did not know whether to improve it or not. He had nothing with him except his money, and that he always carried in his monk- bag, which was slung around his neck. The blankets and extra clothing which he would probably need before he could have time to earn others, were in his bun- dle in the forecastle, and so was that book of Henry Stewart’s, which was to him what chart and compass are to the mariner. Guy set great store by that book. It would, he thought, be of as much service to him as the blankets and extra cloth- ing, for he knew nothing about hunting and trapping; in fact, he had never fired a gun half a dozen times in his life, and he could make but poor headway until he had received instructions from some source. Having no mind of his own, and know- ing next to nothing outside of school books, he had leaned upon somebody ever since he had been away from home— Bob Walker first, and then Flint—and-he had expected when he left the vessel to have the book for a consoler. It told how to build camps, how to cook squirrels and venison on spits before the fire, how to travel through the thickest woods with- out the aid of a compass or the sun, and how he ought to conduct himself in all sorts of terrible emergencies, such as fights with Indians and grizzly bears. It would be a rather risky piece of business for him to depend on his own judgment and resources, and it would be equally risky to wait for another opportunity to desert, for it might never be presented. Guy did not know what to do, and there was no one to whom he could go for advice. “Thomas, you stay here till I come.” These words aroused Guy from his reverie, He looked up and found himself standing at the foot of a long, wide stair- way leading up into a building which looked like a warehouse. The Santa Maria was hidden from his view by the masts and rigging of the vessels lying at the wharf, the boat in which he had come ashore was out of sight, and so was the captain, who went ‘quickly up the stairs and disappeared through a door, which he slammed behind him. Now or never was the thought that passed through Guy's mind, and without stop- ping to dwell upon it an instant, he dropped the basket and darted away as fast as his legs could carry him, turning down every street he came to, and putting as many corners as possible between him- self and the harbor. Guy had learned at least one thing dur- ing the eight or nine months he had been on the water, aud that was that in all seaport towns the sailors’ quarters are located near the docks, hence his desire to leave that part of the city behind him in the shortest possible space of time. He never wanted to meet a seafaring man again—he had learned to despise the namie as well as the calling. Besides, he knew that if the second mate fulfilled his threat of searching the city for him, that part of it to which the sailors most resorted would be the very first place he would visit. Guy wondered if there was a hun- ters’ boarding-house in town. The officer could never think of looking for him there. The deserter made remarkably good time fora boy who had been worn al- most to a shadow of his former self by hard fare and harder treatment, settling down inarapid walk at intervals, and then breaking into a run again when he reached a street in which there were but few people to observe his movements, and was finally brought to a stand-still by a sign which caught his eye—“J. Brown, gunsmith.” The words drove all thoughts of the mate out of his mind, and suggested to him a new train of reflections. He was out of danger for the presenf—he had been running fully half an hour, as nearly as he could guess at the time=and had 372 leisure to ponder upon a question which just then arose in his mind, Here was a chance to provide himself with as much of a hunter’s outfit as his limited supply of money would purchase. Should he im- prove it, or wait until some future day? It was a matter that could not be decided on the spur of the moment, so Guy seated himself on a dry-goods box in front of a store opposite the gunsmith’s, and thought about it. : After he had recovered a little of his wind, and got his brain in working order, Guy walked across the street and_looked in at the gunsmith’s window. He saw there everything a hunter could possibly need—rifles, shot-guns, hunting-knives, revolvers, game-bags, traps, and fishing- tackle—such a variety, in fact, that Guy could not at once make up his mind what he wanted most. The window on the other side of the door was filled with sad- dles, bridles, blankets, spurs, and ponchos. -As Guy looked at them, a sec- ond question arose in his mind. “Now, how am I going to get my horse?” he asked himself. “I must have one, for I never heard of a hunter traveling about on foot. It wouldn’t look well. Besides, what if I should happen to get into a fight with Indians or grizzly bears? Why, I’d be rubbed out sure. And if I can think up some way to get a horse, how am [ going to earn the money to buy a saddle and bridle for him? Great Scott! there’s always some drawback to my plans.” And this seemed to be a serious draw- back, too. Whenever Guy had indulged in his day-dreams, he had always im- agined himself a prosperous and famous hunter, with all the comforts and luxu- ries of his calling at his command. The question had sometimes forced itself upon his mind, how was he to get these things? But it was always an unwelcome one, and was dismissed with the comforting re- flection that it would be time enough to worry about such little matters when he stood in need of them. That was the way he disposed of the horse question now. “I'll get my gun and other things I need, and think about a horse some other time,” he thought. “Perhaps I can buy one already trained from some friendly Indians for a plug or two of tobacco: and, by the way, I guess I had better get some tobacco for that purpose. Or, I may find a hunting-ground so well stocked with game that I can trap and shoot enough beaver and otter in a few days to pay for a good horse. But the mischief of it is, I don’t know how to hunt and trap those animals, and there's that book I need so much on board the Santa Maria. No matter, I’ll wriggle through some way. What I want just now is a shooting- iron.” So saying, Guy opened the door and went into the gun-shop. (TO BE CONTINUED.) ON LAND AND SEA: California in the Yoars 1843, *44 aud 5 o—— By WILLIAM H. THOMES, — (“On LAND AND SEA” was commenced in No. 3, Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.] CHAPTER VIII.—(Continued.) HE next day we went after wood in 4 the launch, and came near being e ‘) shipwrecked, as we touched on some rocks near the point opposite Goat Island. The boat leaked badly, but we got alongside, and discharged cargo, and then beached the craft, and the carpenter had to spend a day repairing her. Just as we hauled her off the flats, the schooner Julian, a rakish-looking craft, and a trader on the coast, arrived. She was an American vessel, and had a crew of kana- kas. I never saw her receive much cargo, but she landed considerable, and where she got it was a mystery. I always sup- posed that she was engaged in mild smuggling, and paid but few duties. The captain’s greatest desire seemed to he to buy rare furs, and get many good, whole- some silver dollars. The vessel’s move- ments were as mysterious as her cargo, and you never knew when or where he would turn up on the coast. ° After filling all of our wat*er-casks, for the’ dry season had now set in, and stored the fore-peak full of wood, enough to last six months, we got under way the 5th of June, at the unnatural hour of five in the morning, for a trip to the lee- ward, by the way of Santa Cruz and Monterey. The tide served our purpose, for it was strong ebb. We had a hard time breaking out our anchors from their muddy bed, and all our strength was re- quired to gain an inch of chain, But at last we broke ground, and drifted out of GooDp the bay, with a Captain Hinckley and his wife on board as passengers to Monterey. The wind was light all day, and we fanned past the Seal Rocks, where we saw forty or fifty sea-lions asleep in the hot sun, and they hardly raised their heads when we braced the yards to catch each flaw, to prevent our dropping an- chor again. About four o’clock we got a fresh breeze from the northeast, and, with the wind free, skimmed along the coast, and at daylight were off Santa Cruz, where we dropped anchor in four fathoms of water, and the same forenoon the Don Quixote arrived for skins and tallow, like ourselves, We found four or five hundred hides ready for us, but, worse than all, one h an dsed thousand feet of red- wood boards, which we were informed we were required to push through the heavy surf, ship, and land on the high bluffs at San Pedro. We could endure the discomforts of carry- ing off hides, but, when it came to lum- ber, we were mad, and Lewey proposed that we should desert, go to San Fran- cisco, seize the schooner Julian, and be- come real pirates in downright earnest. When the French lad had a grievance he wanted to become a bloody buccaneer of the Spanish Main. He didn’t know where the Main was located, but thought it sounded well, as he had read some- thing on the subject in a book that one of the crew owned. He said we were bound to be hanged at some time, and we might | as well end our days in glory as to die rafting off confounded lumber through a heavy surf. The temptation to follow the boy’s advice was great, but there were so many impediments in the way; so we had to give it up, and thus our agent escaped a violent death, for if we had.become pirates, Mr. Mellus would have suffered more than he made us en- dure in the cold surf of Santa Cruz. We landed on the beach at an early hour, and lugged the boards from the to of a sand hill to the shore, then fastene a pair of top-gallant studding-sail hal- yards to half a dozen planks, while the men on the pinnace pulled them through the rollers. The boat was anchored at some distance from the beach, and the people in her made araft of the boards. All the forenoon we were in the water, and when we knocked off we were wet through and through, and the most dis- gusted men on the coast. If curses could have consigned Mr. Mellus, to whom we were indebted for all of this hard work, to an endless pun- ishment, he would now be suffering in a warm climate, for more outrageous labor was never imposed upon men. None of the other ships on the coast were asked to do such work, and we were selected because it was the first voyage of Captain Peterson, as master. Had it been his second trip the supercargo would not have dared impose such a task upon him and his men, for he would have refused to do it. We got the raft and the hides on board in the course of the day, and stowed the lumber between decks, and the next afternoon up anchor, and stood over toward Monterey, nearly in company with the Don Quixote. The wind was fresh from the northeast, and was the best point of sailing for the bark, being free, with the yards well checked in, but we piled on a foretopmast studding sail, — slid along at the rate of ten knots per our. On this trip I took the wheel for a short time, to relieve Chips, so that he could get his supper, and I am happy to state that [ steered so well the captain uttered an emphatic commendation, for I did not vary half a point of the compass either way. But then the Admittance was just like a yacht in minding her helm, if any one could steer her. We dropped anchor just ten minutes after the Don Quixote had rounded to, but he had nearly half an hour’s start of us, and, as a stern chase is a long one, we did very well. The schooner Califor- nia (Captain Cooper, the Mexican ad- miral), was in port, and would have sa- luted us on our arrival, if she had owned powder or guns. As the gallant captain did not possess either, he contented him- self with hoisting the Mexican flag, and then hauling it down as fast as possible, for fear it would blow to pieces, and he did not know when he could get another | from the national government, as the latter wanted an incoming stream of sil- ver dollars, and no outlet for useless ex- penditures in its provinces. Monterey that evening looked as pleas- ant as ever. The dogs barked all night, as usual, the coyotes howled defiance, as was customary, from the hill-tops, and once in a while we could hear the fierce roar of a bear in the woods, just back of the presidio, probably grumbling over the remains of a dead bullock. Usually, when a hear made its appear- ance near the fort, the soldiers sought the shelter of their bomb-proofs, or would have done so if thy had any, but, as_ they did not, they went into the barrack-room, NEWS. performing no sentry duty until daylight. I did not blame them, for it is not pleas- ant to be caught asleep by a ferocious bear, when guarding an outpost in a ravine. We renewed our acquaintance with the young ladies of Monterey, and_ they smiled on us as cordially as ever; but trading was uot very brisk, and we com- menced preparations for our leeward trip. The night before we weighed anchor the dense forest, on the Point of Pines, was set on fire by some drunken Indians, and, as the flames raged fiercely, the Heavens were lighted up for miles in extent. We could almost see well enough to read fine print on the deck of the Admittance. It was a sorrowful yet grand sight to watch the trees, dry and resinous, flash up, and tumble over, a3 the flames leaped from one to the other, sending out clouds of black smoke, which formed fantastic shapes, and then drifted away over the land toward the mountains, and were lost to sight. The inhabitants of the town, after they had assured themselves that there was no revolution, said to each other: “Let us return to our beds, and hope that the flames will not work toward our famous city. The alcalda will give us timely warning if there is any necessity for it. The saints save Mexico, and all its people. Benedicta! Vamous!” and they returned to their hard beds, and left the dogs to guard the town, and howl worse than ever, while a thousand coyotes, on the mountains and hills, thought the fire was got up as a substantial tribute to their goodness and worth, and, conse- quently, snapped and barked until day- light. All hands were called about two o’clock in the morning, for it was thought we should have to up anchor, and get out of port as fast as possible. The wind threatened to change, and blow the sparks and flames toward us. If it had there would have been some danger to our sails and riggings, for we were not more than two cable-lengths from the conflagration, and could feel its intense heat as we mustered on deck, and watched the roaring flames, and saw them run swiftly along in the rear of the fort, and then followed up the ravine on their way toward the mountains. But the wind held steady, and the fire receded, working its way into the dark forest, until it seemed to have burned it- self out. When all danger was apparently passed the men were ordered below, but told to stand by for a sudden call. While we were in Monterey this trip, the colored steward, a smart fellow, and a very good cook, paid much attention to a half-breed Mexican woman, who had come on board to trade several times, purchasing for cash two or three spools of cotton, and acomb. The steward was captivated at the first interview. He laid before her all the best evidences of his culinary art, and as the lady was not cabin company, she had a place provided for her in the galley, where the doctor talked to her about the delights of relig- ion. As she could not understand a word that he said, nor he comprehend what she was driving at, when she asked for another cup of coffee, or more bread, in- stead of Christian consolation, there was not much progress in the conversation line, but the steward understood the glances of her eyes, even if he did not the Spanish tongue like the cook, for love does not need words to make it expres- sive. How the steward and Mexican woman managed to understand each other will never be known. But they made some kind of a bargain to meet on the land, and be happy ever after, entirely away from galleys, captains, and ship’s duty. One morning, when all hands were called, the steward was missing. He had taken four of :the red-wood boards, and the deck tub, made a raft, and paddled ashore, where he was joined by the woman, it was supposed, and they were one, no one knew where, or at what hour he left the ship. Every person who had an anchor watch swore that the steward had not started while he was on deck, although it was plain he must have had help from some one. The old man went on shore, and con- sulted Cook, the pulpetia keeper, and offered a reward of twenty dollars for the return of the love-sick swain. Old Cook smiled, drank a glass of his own grog, to show that he still had confidence in it, and would not kill him instantly, as many people wished, mounted a horse, and went off toward the mountains. In the afternoon he returned, and took another glass of aguardiente, winked one eye, had an interview with the old man, ;and the latter smiled, went around town, wearing his famous beaver hat, as he was on visits of ceremony, and bid all his ac- quaintances good-by, announcing his in- tention of sailing the next day for Santa Barbara. In the morning there was a commotion on the beach, and Old Cook was seen, and heard to hail the ship, and ask that @ boat be sent on shore. We jumped into the pinnace, and pulled to the landing-place, and there saw the poor steward, bound hand and foot, and in charge of two rancheros, who had captured him the night before. It was always supposed that the woman gave him away, and shared in the re- ward. At any rate, she never came On board again, and sent no word to her ad- mirer. The steward was in a miserable plight, and received hard usage. He had made @ gallant fight of it, as one of his captors showed a black eye, and the other a sharp cut across the cheek, with a knife, or 4 stick. But what could the poor fellow do against two skilled horsemen, arme with long riatas, which they could throw with the precision of a rifle ball. We cut the lashings that bound the man, for the steward was a great favor- ite with every one on board, even the captain always having a kind word 0 praise when he produced some wonderful effort of his genius like a potato salad, OF a delicious dish of macaroni, with grated cheese. We pitied the poor fellow, an tried to encourage him, but he was & broken up, and when he thought that the woman he loved had sold him 1 Cook and his captors, he flattened out and cried like a child. ny “Vot does you expect from a female? asked Lewey, the skeptic, who had n0 faith in a Wwoman’s affections, haviDs been crossed in love, he confidentially 2 formed me more than a hundred times “Dey is vid you to-day, and to-morrow vare is dey?” As the steward could not answer thé conundrum he made no reply, but gavé vent to afresh burst of tears, and, stl sobbing, entered the boat, and we pulle him on board. The old man was on the quarter-deck and he received the steward with a grim smile, and the remark: f “Vell, you haf made a fool of yoursel runnin’ arter mean, scum yimmin. ow you goes to vork, and forgets her, like ee peoples does,”and that was al said. The blow was so severe that it shattered some portion of the man’s brain, but went to work, and tried to do his duty, yet, when we saw him standing in the waist one day, and making faces at the quiet town of Monterey, and at every woman who came on board, we knew the iron had entered his soul, and that he still mourned for his dark-skinned lo¥@ and that his mind was impaired. fi hoped that he would pull through, as @ men generally do, but had to give him ve when, one day he plumped down at feet of Don Pio Pico’s daughter, or rel& tive, the same lady who had come ov» one Sunday, in company with the cap* tain, to see the bears, and asked permis ion to cook for her private eating ® to licious omelet. The frightened girl fled ot the captain for protection, as she did his understand him, or his actions, an Spanish was faulty. . ke After that the old man made him ea of salts, thinking it would have a 80 nf ing effect on the fellow’s active bralls but, strange to say, salts could 1 love, and the steward continued to epee? faces, and to laugh in a cold and bl curdling manner. There was but one nis source left, and that was to shave jon head, and draw the amorous affec from the heart by the aid of a mus plaster. The steward was secured, the was told to go ahead, and shave 9 r wool, and it was done, but the stewie resisted firmly, and cried as he Saw ney kinky locks fall to the deck, whence were swept up, and pitched overboar ‘the Along epic might be written 0? he subject, but, as no one would read it ib poets of the country had better ont alone, and prose shall celebrate the €¥. “1 The mustard plaster did not, PFO yop the effect that was intended. It me. soothed nor allayed his impassione fter ture; but, at any rate, the steward, he left Monterey, gradually re and once more resumed his cheerf ater yet became a confirmed woman sing and never afterward took pride 10 Oe before the softer sex well-made dishes it In fact, one day, at a moment WY in seemed as though is brain was. 48 unhinged, he said confidently: “T tells you what it is, Tom, der cook for fifty men than on They never knows what suits ’em, cwal- grumblin’ all de time; and den dey 7 dat lows all de best dings, and nebber 84? (76, dey is good, but always wants pas when dey knows dar is no More. | ther tried ’em, and I wouldn’t care if I a de seed another woman on de face ey earth. Dey is all alike. Dey eats 8%" aon, eats, dey drinks and dey drinks, 4? when you fills ’em up wid gooe t jist dey turns round, and sells you ony as likely as not.” jmes Thus does gentle woman , someon are make enemies, when she might, © orite friends, simply from her love of ant NS, Age eens dishes, and neglecting to thank the donor; like a delicate young lady that accompan- 1eés you to the theater, and expects a col- lation afterward, and feels aggrieved if she does not get it, and tells her intimate friends that you have a streak of mean- hess in your nature, which she can never forgive or forget. - We got under way at the same time the lexican man-of-war schooner California Id. Captain Cooper was bound for Santa arbara, to look after some illegal otter unters, who were cruising up and down he coast in small, flat-bottomed boats, and it was necessary that a show of fcrce Should be made to frighten them off their Usual haunts. What the California, with er crew of four kanakas, could do toward men that were unerring shots With rifles, was not stated, and the ad- Miral never made a formal report on the Subject. He was ordered to go, so he Ook on board an assortment of grub, a Ushel of frijoles, and made sail, and, as he passed under our stern, said: I will bet a pound of tobacco I am at Santa Barbara before you, in spite of your fast ship.” _All right,” replied Captain Peterson, With a laugh, at the audacity of the pro- Position, “I’ll take the bet,” and, with & wave of their hands, the captains parted, and the California drifted toward the Point of Pines. When we stood out of the harbor, her at was in the water, towing her away from the sunken rocks, so that she could 8et an offing before night set in. How- ver, as soon as the danger was passed, the crew complained of being fatigued, and the admiral anchored, and let them a a refreshng sleep, so that they could | © all ready for a good day’s work on the Morrow. Then the commander went on Ore, and it is supposed passed a pleas- t night. (TO BE CONTINUED.) ————_—_—~»- 0 e —____—_—__- The Young Duck Hunters, ee teen By W. B. LAWSON. _— ct + ni TE Youne Duck HunrTers” was commenced in . 19. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents, ] CHAPTER XIII. THE WILD SWEEP OF A NOR’EASTER. EW emotions struggled in the brain of the young duck hunter— the mention of that beloved name had sent a wild thrill through his duly; frame, and he found himself in- betes in speculations that even a day vk Ore he would have looked upon as_ the aries of a mind diseased. co © was a remarkably quiet boy, and uld keep his own counsel in a way that nH & man might have envied. Said 1 no matter what he thought, he that hothing that would betray the fact G he was interested in the lady called eraldine. ® looked again at the gentleman. Suld this be any relative of his? One € other's face was not a very strong lad? and yet he imagined it resembled the Y 8 in certain ways. ‘ bred had assumed his place, and made ere oon for the wild fowl they deliv- Whole » receiving payment for the same, st 48 though he was not in a position ot and run such a yacht as_ this, did hotion strike him, being independ- *ntly Well off in this world’s caida and, ad seen that Ned was not himself, It arose equal to the occasion. in the these kind of lads that get along to ci, World, ready to adapt themselves Ircumstances, no matter how singular. Yachts e€ Fred was talking with the tsman, Ned sauntered along the deck. the © was almost tempted to descend to intece?in and endeavor to bring about an Reema” with the lady, but something am ‘to hold him back. 24 time was not yet ripe. Beeme ot season all these things that ~al] °° Puzzling would be made clear is © needed was patience. | : entered 15 across one of the sailors, Ned Somethj Into conversation, hoping to learn beyond 1 but the man knew very little Was the fact that the captain’s name thew ard, and that of the owner Mat- Richards. told tha Ned asked about the lady he was What he she was the owner’s sister— No j7,.°% name might be the seaman had Idea Pp Nea was baffled in one particular. out would have to leave the yacht with- diq palning much information, and yet he been e feel as though his mission had n des, since he had seen this lady mi Geraldine. both 2° Way back to the cabin they had ade Ind and waves with them, and on & quick passage. ” tes a storm about to work in on Sky. “tid Fred, looking at the clouded ’ advised the captain to change GooDp his anchorage, or he might have his boat ashore. See, he is about to take my word for it—up goes some of his canvas.” Sure enough the yacht was about to move, and when she had tripped her an- chor, went off on the port tack, working out to her old anchorage, a mile or so dis- tant. Ned’s face showed concern. “T hope that no injury comes to her,” he said. “Have you discovered anything?” “No, but—well, you will probably smile at what I am about to say—did you see the lady?” “Yes, anda lovely woman she is—too sweet to be that arrogant man’s wife.” “His wife!” cried Ned, “who told you that?” “No one—I simply guessed it. Seemed natural, you know, that a man should take his wife with him on a cruise like this.” “You are wrong—she is Matthew Rich- ards’ sister.” “Ah! you did find out something then, while I was talking ducks and drakes to his lordship.” “Very little, but the most significant thing to me was her name,” “Well, what was it?” They had entered the swollen creek, and were now fastening the duck boat to this had always been a safe retreat for the sneak box.” “Geraldine,” replied Ned, dwelling lov- ingly on the name. “A very pretty name, and I should say quite suited to the one who bears it. But its stake, for when a storm threatened | NEw S. like a raging demon—it will take them unprepared—see how the flying scud leaps | along.” | “It is a grand—a terrible sight,” cried | Fred. “Yes, terrible, indeed. What if the yacht is wrecked, and all on _ board | drowned? Oh! Fred, the misery. that | thought gives me—a mother almost found , and lost before my very eyes.” CHAPTER XIV. DRAGGING HER ANCHORS, HE sight was, indeed, a very im- ~? pressive one, and would have ? chained the attention of almost any /7”* one. | Beyond the yacht the demon of the tempest seemed to have suddenly dropped from the clouds, and was about to rush along the waves with the fury of a hurri- |cane. The spray flew like a white wall, being carried beyond the main line of the advancing whirling waters, like skir- mishing riders circling before the main army. Those on the yacht had seen their peril —men were already endeavoring with frantic haste to stow the sails. phe had been brought up in the eye of the wind, and an anchor dropped, but if the storm ever struck her with any can- vas spread, no anchor could keep her from being blown ashore. Eagerly the boys watched the scene. The sailors were dextrous at their work, and, no doubt, spurred on by the doom that threatened to engulf them, it was really why should it be significant to you, old fellow?” “It was my mother’s name,” softly. Fred stopped short in his work and looked at his companion quickly—he noted the unshed tears in the young fel- low’s eyes, and seemed to divine the whole truth at a glance, for he stepped up and seized Ned’s hand warmly. “Bless my soul, my dear boy, I gras the situation, and appreciate your feel- ings. What if it should prove true? I declare it is worth all the years of wait- ing you have spent, if you could only find a mother like that.” “Stop, Fred, you are going too far—this is only a wild suspicion of mine. I am afraid it will vanish like a fog castle at the first breath of an adverse wind; but oh! comrade, you do not know how sweet the very thought is to one who has never known a mother’s love.” It was only with a supreme effort that Ned was enabled to control his feelings, already wrought up to a high pitch by the excitement he had undergone. “Poor fellow, I feel for you, from my heart. I have had a fond father, and known a mother’s care all my life, so I know how lonely you have been. But what you say has a foundation of truth.” “T don’t understand what you mean?” “When I was with the owner of the yacht I heard the captain ask him if it was possible that we might have met McDonald—the other looked serious, but put no question, so I volunteered no in- ‘formation, This shows that they know of |\the detective’s presence in Currituck , marshes—perhaps they have sent him here to hunt up this mad hermit whom——” ee A\\ RSS WY BY Ne wT ais ROS “TooK! LOOK! THE STORM IS UPON THEM LIKE A RAGING DEMON—IT WILL TAKE THEM UNPREPARED !” remarkable how soon they accomplished their labor. little vessel—she plunged into the cloud being lost to the sight of those on the shore. Fred had sprung into the cabin. In a minute he reappeared bearing their oil-skins, which they slipped on just in time, for thé storm reached them with a roar, almost carrying them from their feet. The demon of the tempest was surely abroad, and the way in which he howled and shrieked was a caution, indeed. “How does she stand it?” shouted Fred, as he clung to his companion, who had hold of a small tree growing near the beach, over which the mad waters were now tumbling in a boiling mass like soap- suds in a cauldron. Ned had been straining his eyes to keep track of the vessel through the blinding spray, and in a measure had succeeded. | “She drags—it is impossible that it could be otherwise. They are getting another anchor over, but there seems to be some trouble with the cable. Every minute increases their danger—why do they delay?” But little of this reached Fred’s ears, and yet he sees for himself what the trouble is, for his eyes are as keen as those of his companion. for the beach where she would soon be | pounded to pieces by the cruel waves. Finally a shout from Ned, who must Then the advancing column struck the | of mist and spray, and was for the time | All the while the yacht was dragging her anchor, and slowly but surely making a condition, announced that the second an- chor had been dropped over. When the cable was paid out this took hold, and the shoreward progress of the yacht was stayed. The agony for the present was over. Night came on. Instead of abating, the terrible nor’- easter seemed to increase in violence. It promised to be a wild night, indeed. When morning came it would show numerous wrecks along the Atlantic coast. Ned remained at his post watching, for he could see the light that hung, in the rigging of the yacht, and by careful ob- servation was able to tell whether she dragged or not. His companion, more practical, went inside the cabin and cooked a good meal. He had hard work coaxing Ned-'n to do | it justice, but reason finally preva’’o4,. |and the other felt warmer and better afterward. He could not sit still, however. When the meal had been eaten he rigged himself up warmly, and donning his oil-skins and rubber hoots once more betook himself, lantern in hand, to the beach. The waves were rolling up higher than ; ever, and his former station was now sub- merged, so that he had to find another near at hand. Eagerly he looked out upon the black waters, here and there whited with foam. The light still glimmered like a star— it danced up and down as the yacht rode |the waves, and occasionally vanished completely from view. Ned’s eyes were fastened hungrily upon it, and wonderful thoughts flitted through |his brain as he kept his lonely vigil. So far as he could make out, the yacht was holding her own, and unless the storm took another severe spasm during the night, which was always a possible thing, she would doubtless be in a posi- tion of safety when morning came, About half-past nine Fred came out to see how matters were, and induce his friend to return to the cabin for rest. In this latter business he had his hands full, and only after advancing plausible theories was he able to accomplish it. Even as it was Ned spent a miserable - night. The storm shrieked about the lone cabin of the young duck hunters like a pack of demons let loose from Hades, and either increased in fury, or else Ned imagined so. He had fallen into a troubled sleep, and dreamed that the yacht had been wrecked upon the wild shore, while the hungry waves beat over her and swept those on board to destruction. So awfully vivid was this dream that he awoke with a cry of horror, to hear the waves pounding heavily upon the strand outside, and the wind howling through the trees. vee immediately dressed and went out- side. Upon reaching the beach he could see no sign of the riding light, and a great fear took possession of him that his dream had been truth. Just then, however, his eye caught the gleam of the tiny light—it had been hid- den from view by the great seas, and was, as Ned noted with alarm, some dis- tanze away from the spot where the night had closed in upon the yacht. The vessel was dragging her anchors, on if the storm continuea&, must at last strike. Ned prayed for morning, and then noted with satisfaction that a gray light was beginning to appear in the far east—his wish was granted, for day was about to break, CHAPTER XV. ALMOST WRECKED. NHE morning broke gray and wild. oh There was no diminution in the t) fierce rush of the tempest, and ; when Ned could plainly distinguish the yacht, he saw that she had lost much ground during the night. Fred joined him. “That looks bad for them,” he said, shaking his head, as he saw how near to the beach the vessel had been driven dur- ing the mad night, while the nor’easter raged along the coast. If the yacht struck it would be at a spot nearly a mile away from the cabin. Ned was for going there, but his com- panion refused to think of it until they had first eaten a warm breakfast—the dan- ger was not so immediate as to warrant such haste. This was soon made ready, and the fra- grant odor of coffee mingled with the in- cense from the savory stew Fred arranged for the occasion. ‘ Ned found himself hungry after all, and did ample justice to the meal, after which the two started out along the edge of the beach. So far did the fierce waves leap in at “Look! look! the storm is upon them|find some relief from his overstrained | places that they were compelled a number of times to pass in among the trees in order to get by—the beach was flooded. By degrees they managed to gain the place opposite the yacht, and where she must strike if she came ahore. It could not be a more dangerous spot. The shore was rocky, and even out in the shoal threatening enemies to the planking of a yacht protruded themselves between the onrushing billows. Once the jaunty vessel drifted in among these dangers, and her doom was sealed. The boys found a convenient position, where they could watch all that passed. “Ts she still dragging?” asked Ned. The wind howled so furiously that it was necessary to shout in order to be heard. Fred observed the boat for a while in silence, and at length cried: “Yes, she’s still coming in, and at that rate in less than an hour will be on the rocks.” “Can anything be done?” “Not by us. If fortune is kind, one of the anchors may hold on some rock, and keep her off.” “That is their only chance?” “No, there is another, alopted under desperate circumstances. That is to get a little sail on the yacht, cut loose from the anchors entirely, since they cannot be gotten aboard, and endeavor to work down into the teeth of the gale.” “Will they try it, do you suppose?” “if Tam any judge of a man, that Cap- tain Ward is every inch a sailor, and will neglect no means that can be applied toward saving the yacht—but he may wait awhile in the hope that the other thing I spoke of may happen.” The time passed slowly to them, and the storm kept merrily on, seeming to hold its own with astonishing evenness, shrieking across the waters and among the trees. No ducks would be upon the sound on such a day, and those hunters daring enough to seek them in the marshes would reap a rich reward. Our boys had no thought of such a thing just at present—clouds of ducks might arise before them and they would not care to raise a gun, for their minds were riveted upon the peril that menaced the jaunty yacht, slowly but surely drift- ing toward the cruel rocks. Unless something was soon done, it seemed but a mere question of time when the doom that threatened would descend upon the craft. Ned grew more anxious with each passing minute, and begged Fred to think of some way whereby they might warn the mariners of their great danger. “It is impossible,” returned Fred, “for the wind is too terrible for any sound to reach them, and they would not under- stand signals. Besides, they have a proper appreciation of their peril, for, as you see, they are about to do the very thing I spoke of some time ago.” Sure enough, upon looking out on the raging waters, Ned saw that this was so, They were getting a small amount of canvas on the yacht—a mere capful so_ to speak, in the shape of a goose wing, but enough to give the vessel lee way in such a wind. It was a dangerous venture, for if they failed to make progress they would only hasten the doom that threatened them; but desperate cases require desperate remedies. Almost holding their breath our boys saw them cut loose from their anchors— the vessel was borne backward suddenly, but the release had been made at the roper moment, and as the wind filled er small sail she began to hold her own, and then to forge slowly ahead on the starboard tack. Fred took off his hat and: waved it wildly, while Ned, almost oyercome with emotion put his hand to his eyes. All was well. The yacht had been saved from a cruel fate, and if well managed now would come out of the affair all right—her an- chors could be recovered when the storm subsided. They saw her plunging on, gaining ground continuously, and believing she was safe, once more returned to their cabin. Ned’s fears had vanished, and he. was himself again—the narrow escape of the yacht had in his mind been an augury of good omen, and the future looked less dis- mal now. Toward noon the storm broke. Through a rift in the clouds the sun appeared, the wind went down, and by three o’clock there were few signs left of the tempest—for a nor’easter_ it had been exceedingly short lived, but had made up for this in ferocity while it lasted. The yacht had vanished from their view, but they knew it would be seen again, for Captain Ward must have marked the spot, and would come back to recover the anchors he had cut loose from. water the ugly heads of these | Ned believed fate was gathering th2 ele- ments for a grand finale shortly. CHAPTER XVI. DESERTED IN Fete suggested that they go into | THE CURRITUCK MARSH, p the marsh, and take the evening : shoot, as their larder was getting “oY low, since they had carried all their available stock out to the yacht on the preceding day. To this Ned assented, not that he cared so much for the sport as previously, but something must be done in order to di- vert his mind from the flow of serious thoughts that racked him. So they bun- dled some things into the Barnegat sneak boat, and pushed on up the creek. By devious ways known to Fred, they finally reached the place where’ the wild fowl traded. On the way they started many ducks from the reeds where they were riding out the tempest, and as Fred poled, Ned had a dozen chances to bowl over a fat mallard or red head, which he always did his best to accomplish, suc- ceeding on more than half the occasions presented. Finally Fred dropped his companion ina rough blind constructed upon the shore, while he pushed on in the boat himself, aiming for another spot that had always been a favorite one. Of course, Ned had on his wading boots, and as the water was shallow, he had no difficulty in making his way around, First of all he placed the half dozen de- coys so that they would attract attention. Then he once more piled up his blind, made out of dead rushes and sedge grass, and hardly discernible fifty feet away. After this he made himself comfortable behind the blind, and prepared to take in any straggler in the shape of wild fowl that might decoy. The birds were not flying well, but now and then a single duck or asmall squad would come into view. When these seemed about to pass by without noticing the decoys, Ned would make a prompt use of his duck caller, and sounding the appropriate notes, gen- erally inveigh them within reach of his breech-loader. While they hovered over the stool, up would jump the hunter with his Greener ten bore leveled, and an immediate report meant death to at least one fowl—as the others sped upward in affright, “climb- ing” at a tremendous rate, Ned coolly se- lected his victim, and asa general thing tumbled him over ere he had gone beyond range. Somehow, Ned’s enthusiasm seemed to come hack to him as the time passed. He even forgot the strange events that had taken place, and was wrapped up in his present business. It was near the close of the November day, and considering how wildly the dawn had broken, the day was passing out very mildly. A few fleeting clouds in the sky took on a blood-red hue—the air had become al- most balmy in its feeling, and experi- enced duck hunters would readily under- stand that a poor spell for their business was about to follow the storm. What they like to see are cold, windy overcast days, when the ducks are driven away from their feeding gr unds far out in the great bays, and forced to seek refuge in covers and the marshes. On such occasions a good shot will make a great day, and have fine sport. Ned found that his pile was growing slowly but surely—he could count seven- teen fowl, and his comrade showed no signs of coming. The shades of evening began to creep over the land, and still no Fred. Shots were still to be had, and Ned, so long as the light lasted and his ammuni- tion held out, was tempted to bring down another and another. Finally, when fowl alighted in the water beside his decoys, and he could not tell one from the other, he thought it was about time he quit. So he gathered up his stools, and then waited for his companion to come. Time passed, poe grew into night, and still no ‘red. This was something strange, indeed. He did not know what to make of it. Could it be possible that Fred had made a mistake and taken the wrong channel— that was preposterous, for the other had a Sassen knowledge of the surround- ings. Reflecting, Ned remembered hearing his companion’s gun sound about a_ dozen times, but. it had not. reached him for something like half an hour before dark- ness set in, and he had imagined Fred to be_on the way to him, F Judging from the sound he believed his chum to be about a quarter of a mile away, and if this were so he should have arrived ere this. Darkness,. deep and profound, now GOOD NEWS. { rested upon the great Currituck marsh, | | and the solemn silence was only broken by the quack of some black duck lately arrived, or his sullen plunge into the water, as he dropped from above. Ned conceived an idea, and set about putting it into execution. (TO BE CONTINUED.) a Cri OR, THE YOUNG BOATMAN OF PINE POLNT. By HORATIO ALGER, Jr., Author of “Only an Irish Boy,” “Ragged “Sink or Swim,” “Tattered Tom,” and Bold,” ‘‘Fame and Fortune,” “+ } Dick,” “Brave etc, (“ Grir” was commenced in No. 17, can be obtained of all News Agents.] 3ack numbers CHAPTER XXIV. GRIT OVERHEARD ELM-TREE, WHAT BEHIND THE RIT listened amazement to >A bank president. * “You mean ejaculated. “Yes,” answered Mr. Graves, nodding. “But I am only a boy.” “That is true; but you have shown a sagacity and good judgment which justify incredulous words of the with the to send me!” he} me in selecting you, young as you are. Of | course, I shall take care that you are paid for your time. Now, are you willing to 20 3” Willing to go to Boston, where he had not been for five years? Grit did not take long to consider. “Yes,” he answered, promptly. “If you are willing to trust me, I am willing to x0. - “That is well,” said the president. “YT need hardly caution you to keep your errand a profound secret.” “Certainly, sir.” “You must not even tell your mother,” continued Mr. Graves. “But she will feel anxious if I go away without a word to her.” “You mistake me. I would not for the world have you give her unnecessary anx- iety. You may tell her that you are em- ployed on an errand which may detain you from home a day or two, and ask her not to question you till you return.” “Yes, I can say that,” returned Grit. “Mother will very likely think Mr. Jack- son has employed me,” “Mr. Jackson?” “A gentleman now staying at the ho- tel. ; He has already been very kind to me.’ . If Grit had been boastful or vain- glorious, he would have given the particu- lars of his rescue of from drowning. As more than I have recorded above. “Very well,” answered the president. “Your mother will not, at any rate, think you are in any mischief, asshe knows you too well for that.” “When do you want me to go, sir?” asked Grit. “Let me see. To-day is Wednesday, and Friday is the day when we had decided to send the messenger. He was to go by the morning train. I think I will send you off in advance by the evening train on Thursday. Then the bonds will be in the bank at Boston, while the regular mes- senger is still on the way.” “That will suit me very well, sir.” “The train starts at ten o’clock. You can be at the train at half-past nine. I will be there at the same hour, and will have the bonds with me. I will the journey.” “All right, sir. any time to-morrow?” “No. I think it best that we should not be too much together. Even then I don’t think any one would suspect that I would employ you on such an errand, Still, it will be most prudent not to do anything to arouse suspicion.” “Then, Mr. Graves, I will bid you good-night,” said Grit, rising. “I thank you very much for the confidence you are going to repose in me. I will do my best, so that you may not have occasion to re- pent it.” “T don’t expect to repent it,” said Mr. Graves, shaking hands with Grit in a friendly manner. When the young boatman left the house of the bank president it was natural that he should feel a thrill of pride as he thought of the important mission on which he was to be sent. Then, again, it was exhilarating to reflect that he was about to visit Boston. He had lived at Chester for five years and more, and dur- ing that time he had once visited Port- land. That was an exciting day for him; but Boston he knew was a great deal little Willie Jackson | it was, he said no | istranger departed, but not alone. at the | same time provide you with money for | Do you want to see me | | you in one lump, five thousan larger than the beautiful city of which Maine people are pardonably proud, and | contained possibilities of pleasure and ex- citement which filled him with eager an- | ticipations. But Grit knew that his journey was undertaken, not for his own enjoyment, but was to be an important business mis- sion, and he resolved that he would do his duty, even if he did not have a bit of fun. As he thought over the business on which he was to be employed, his thoughts reverted to Ephraim Carver, the bank messenger, and the more he thought | of him, the more he suspected that he was implicated in the projected robbery. It was perhaps this thought that led him to make a detour so that he could pass the house of the messenger. It was a small cottage house, standing back frum the street, from which a nar row lane led to it. Connected with it were four or five acres of land, which might have yielded quite an addition t0 his income, but Mr. Carver was not very fond of working on land, and he let it lie fallow, making scarcely any use of it. Until he obtained the position of bank messenger he had a hard time getting @ living, and was generally regarded as rather a shiftless man. He was connected with the wife of one of the directors, an 'that was the way in which he secured his | position. Now he received a small salary, but one on which he might have live |comfortably in a cheap place like Ches- ter. But in spite of this he was dissatis: fied, and on many occasions complaine of the difficulty he experienced in making both ends. meet. Grit turned down the lane, and ap proached the house, He hardly knew why he did so. He had no expectation of learning anything that would throw light on the question whether Carver was or was not implicate in the conspiracy. Still he was draw? toward the house. The night was quite dark, but Grit knew every step of the way, and he walked slowly up the lane, which was probably two hundred feet long. He had gone perhaps half the distance when he saw the front door of Carver § house open. Mr. Carver himself could be seen in the door-way with a_ kerosene lamp in his hand, and at his side was @ | person whom, with a thrill of surprise, | Grit recognized as the man staying at the | hotel under the name of Colonel JohnsoMs “That looks suspicious,” thought Grit “T am afraid the messenger is guilty.’ He reflected that it would not do_ for either of them to see him, as it might render them suspicious. He took advan tage of the darkness, and the fact tha the two were not looking his way, a jump over the stone wall and hide be oi the broad trunk of the lofty elm whie¢ stood just in that spot. “T wish I could hear what they are 88° ing,” thought Grit. “Then I should know for certain my suspicions were We founded.” The two men stood space of a minute or more, and at the door for the then the Eph- “aim Carver took his hat and accompal ied him, both walking slowly up the lane toward the main road. at By a great piece of good luck, as Gr! considered it, they halted beneath the very elm-tree behind which he lay COP cealed. These were the first words spoken. in “My dear friend,” said Johnson, , bland, persuasive accents, “there isn) particle of danger in it. You have only be follow my directions, and all wl 1 well.” : “T shall find it hard to explain how i happened that I lost the package, sa yarver. te “Not at all You will have a fac-sim in your possession—one so like that t one need wonder that you mistook it pe the originai. Undoubtedly you will * charged with negligence, but they ¢&? prove anything more against you. five can stand being found fault with for i thousand dollars, can’t you?” “Tf that is all, I won't mind. I sha probably lose my situation.” ge; “Suppose you do; it brings you 12 nay six hundred dollars a year, while we DU : d dollars” over eight times as much. Why, at the interest of this sum at six per © ay will yield half as muchas your anpm™ salary.” “The bank people ought to more,” said Carver. “Twomonth asked them to raise me to eight wa a year, but they wouldn’t. There tae only one of the directors in favor 0°. » the man who married my wife's COUP ar. “They don’t appreciate you, frien¢ nect ver,” said Johnson. “How can they or ‘ you to be honest when they treat yor so niggardly a manner?’ d : yust 307” said Carver, eager to some justification for his intended t wt ery. “If they paid mea living $4 Pe wouldn’t do this thing you ask of me Grit heard me since ss hundred bs ich nd oX- - wn om - he ay - Dy nt me [ie 18s, they have only themselves to “Nhe said Colonel Johnson. ; at’s the way I look at it,” said Messenger. ‘gta quite right, too. I shouldn’t be “Dace Sed if you managed to keep your ‘than “ee, after ail, They won’t suspect’ you ny ng more than carelessness. ’ " the i Would be splendid,” returned | Shot “With my salary and the inter- five thousand dollars I could live al portal as I wanted to. How soon l receive the money?” ‘tly aa as w as a dispose of the bonds Won’t' be long.” dite two men parted, and Carver Grit ¢ to his house. They rept out from behind the elm-tree May h © coast was clear, and made his Wate: He had learned'a most im- late it Secret, but resolved to communi- Only to Mr. Graves. CHAPTER XXV. MRS. BRANDON IS MYSTIFIED. HEN Grit explained to his Mother that he was going away ora day or two on a journey, Pils phe was naturally surprised, shoul for particulars. oy th uld like to tell you, mother,” «Sons Young boatman, “but there are an Ylcannot. It isa secret mis- ma the secret is not mine. ti 'S_ perfectly satisfactory, Grit,” ree Brandon. “I have ‘full con- , ig tte Ou, and know I can trust you. ll y return I shall pr obably be able tal ho gui.” said Grit. “Meanwhile, Hit, 20 doubt, be paid better than if I iy » trying ay ba! W. Tate, I shall be glad to see you wht for & have not been separated for a ier ears, or, indeed, since you | {yop Re xt d Ne eA Mr. Brandon, taught by Pele mice that-he need not look for his Mra Home, went over to the tavern Kideng gst. He felt unusually inde- ty, Poe plated for he had money in by tt he oe tine d from Colonel John- Miso &XPected soon to receive the Dig wa, Sum of five thousand dollars. & "man, in order to avert sus- have held his tongue, at ad performed the service as to be so liberally paid; Ould not forego the oppor- iy ti ast a little. hte ite Possible, Mrs. B.,” he said ‘that Imay leave you hay ae pet, two, to be gone a considerable passengers across. the h s ce oA i » trig 3B, Mont, fia not show pfot len ce, Sian, a es 1, Bauire where Tam _ going,” yh th, re o you’ propose to g0?” ahd, VHOSe chief feeling was that aract hey now be left to their ay peace, “lt an H to.Rurope,” said Mr. than Wt HPortant tone. ylon, 3 rea} & new plan?” My Pe it my ly surprised. Dy Dae by My 2¢W. I shall go on business, the expected received the communica- asked Bran- asked Mrs. tye rere yo fy Cah Qa chance to earn ci en » the rp, but that does not ex- wt *ness with which he treated | Tie My a an travers is a gentleman, Mighaa tr cigh. toned gentleman, and if } sta 8 dug me him with the respect apt aig? mp| oH would have had noth- | Seoy a As it is, you may we hang ver th: ‘2 t sit oe you have made a mis- Sreat pleasure. I had | tio to tell you, but I am 0 0, that but for your im- ravers, I might have taken With me on a European etan : te ahi ieeo d Watched his wife, to see if | Severe disappointment at Prospect which was no lan withdrawn, but she al equanimity. € quite Ane. ed, a thought Mr. Brandon, Ong. A tour of Europe | tor is briny would have no at- beri, er ugy the? ang 728 fa " Bra, nS wer ug? im as happy at | Said Brandon. “You and | some oe charms of Pine a in, It is too small and con- h re 4n of my business ca- 2 whet Says, ae there is any truth thought Mrs. Brandon, og a profitable one,” “Mark, ” *> answered her hus- ee i lca i ge Ca ee faa y friend Travers and I will! hn an Cat together. You and Grit ; Mag Tth rh mistake, when you treated | Uo am 5 “eness. It is through him | «Meng, » "ed most remunerative em- Henglon's ikely?y Saiq oY the society of yous Yin? to os rs. Brandon. “If he band. “It is of an unusually delicate nature, and requires business talents of a high order.” “Your friend Travers does. not one as a man possessed of a high order of business talent,” said Mrs. Brandon. “That is where you fail to appreciate jhim, but' I cannot say more. My busi- | ness is secret, and cannot be revealed.’ | So saying, Brandon took his hat, and with a jaunty step wi alked to the hotel. ‘More secrecy !” thought Mrs,. Brandon. “Grit tells me that his mission is a secret one, and now Mr. Brandon says he, too, iis engaged in something that cannot be revealed. I know that it is all right with Grit, but I do not feel so sure about Mr. Brandon.” The day passed as usual, Grit plied his | boat on the river, and did a fair day’s work. But about four o’clock he came home. “You are home early, Grit,” said his mother. “Yes, for I must get ready to go.” He had not yet mentioned to his mother when he was to start. Mrs. Brandon. “I go to-night, and may be away for a couple of days, mother. Mrs. Brandon uttered of surprise. “T suppose I must not ask you where you are going,” said his mother. “T cannot tell, for it is somebody else’s an exclamation money was to come from, which his step- |father depended upon to defray the ex- penses of a foreign journey. “I don’t feel sure about his going, mother,” he answered. He said he would have taken me if we had treated his friend more politely.’ you and Travers “Well, mother, we must reconcile our- selves as well as we can to staying at o home.” “Home will be happy with me, Grit.’ “And Mr. Brandon away,” young boatman. “Yes; [I can’t help hoping that he will be able to carry out his purpose, and go to Europe, or somewhere else as far off.’ “I think it very likely we sha’n’t see him again for some time,” said Grit, “though I don’t think he will be travel- ing in Europe.” “As you and Mr. Brandon are both to be engaged in business of a secret nature,” said Mrs. Brandon, smiling, “I don’t know but I ought to follow your ex- ample.” “T have full confidence in you, mother, whatever you undertake,” said Grit, a laugh, repeating his mother's words. Evening came on, and Grit stole out of the house . 2arly, lest his step-father might by some chance return home, and suspect something from his unusual journey. He need not have been al: urmed, for | Brandon did not leave the tavern till ten o’clock, though he, too, expected to leave town the next morning. | When he returned he didn't inquire for | ¢ xrit, whom he supposed to be abed and | a asleep. while I have you added the “Mrs. B.,” he said, “I must trouble you | | to wake me at seven o’clock to-morrow | mor ning. Iam going to take the early train to Portland.” “Very well.” | “And as it will be rather inconvenient for me to go out to breakfast, I would be glad if you w ould give me some breakfast before I go.’ me will do so,” said his wife. “It may be some time before I see you again, as I am to go away on business.” | “T hope you may be successful,” said | Mrs. Brandon. Brandon laughed queerly. “Tf the old lady knew that I was going to steal some government bonds, she would hesite ate a little before she wished me sue- | cess,’ ’ he thought, but he said: “Thank you, Mrs. B., your good wishes ate appreciated, and I may hereafter be }able to show my appreciation in a sub- stantial way. I suppose Grit is asleep.” Mrs. Brandon did not answer, finding | the question an embarrassing one. | The next morning Brandon, contrary to | his wont, showed considerable alacrity in | dressing, and did justice to the breakfast his wife had set before him. “Well, good-by, Mrs. B., "he said, as ‘he took his hat, ‘and prepare Ad to leave the } ‘house. “Perhaps I had better go up stairs and bid good-by to Grit, as I may }not.see him again for some time.” “Grit is out,” said Mrs. Brandon, has- | tily, for she did not wish her husband to igoup to Grit’s room, as he would dis- cover that his bed had not been slept in, “Out already?” said Brandon. “He’s secret. One thing more, will you take care to say as little as possible about my "| going away. I would rathe 1 Mr. Bran- don should not know of it. “I will do as you wish, Grit. By the way, Mr. Brandon tells me he is soon going to Europe.” Grit smiled. He knew where the} with | own | Oe reabiperatetebincs impress | “Do you go to-morrow morning?” asked | ! |} made an early start. Well, bid him good- by for me.” | “It's very strange!’ Brandon, as she cleared away. the break- ifast dishes, “there’s Grit gone, I don’t know where, and now Mr. started off on some mysterious business. What can it all mean?” repeated Mrs. CHAPTER THE FALL RIVER AX VI. MANUFACTURER. “ RIT lost no time in prosecuting his journey. In Portland he found that he should need to stay over a few hours, and repaired to the U cider States Hotel. He left’ word to be called early, as he wished to take a morn- ing train to Boston. At the breakfast-table he found himself sitting next to a man of swarthy com- ple xion and bushy black whiskers. “Good-morning, my young friend,” said the stranger, afte ra scrutinizing glance. “Good-morning, sir,” said Grit, politely. “Are you stopping at this hotel?” “Yor the present, yes,” answered the | young boatman. “Are you going farther?” “T think of it,” said Grit, cautiously. “Perhaps you are going to Boston,” | proceeded the stranger. “T may do so,” Grit admitted. “IT am glad of it, for l am going, too. If agreeable, we will travel in company.” - suppose we shall go on the same train?” said Grit, evasively. “Just so, I am going to Boston on busi- ness. You, I suppose, are too young to have business of any importance?” “Boys of my age seldom have business of importance,” said Grit, resolved to baffle the evident curiosity of the | stranger. “Exactly. in Boston?” “TI once lived said Grit. “Just so. in the city?” “That depends on circumstances.” “Do you live in this State?” “At present I do.” The man looked a little annoyed, for he saw that Grit was determined to say as little about himself as possible. He de- cided to set the boy an example of frank- ness, “TI do not live in Maine,” he said, “I am a manufacturer in Fall River, Mass. I suppose you have heard of Fall River?” “Oh, yes!” “It is a right smart place, as a Phila- delphiah would say. You never heard of Townsend’s Woolen Mill, I dare say?” “No, I never have.” “It is one of the largest mills in Fall River. I own a controlling interest in it. I assure you I wouldn’t take a hundred thousand dollars for my interest in it.” “You ought to be in very easy circum- I suppose you have relations in that neighborhood,” Are you going to stay long ” | stances,” said Grit, politely, though it did occur to him to wonder why the owner of a controlling interest in a large woolen mill should be attired in such a rusty suit. “T am,” said the stranier, complacently, “Daniel Townsend’s income—I am Dan- iel T., at your service—for last year was twelve thousand three hundred and sixty- nine dollars.” “This gentleman seems very communi- cative,” thought Grit. “Your income was rather larger than mine,” he said. “Ho, ho! I should say so,” laughed Mr. Townsend. “Are you in any business, | my young friend?” “TY am connected with navigation,” said | Grit. “Indeed?” observed Townsend, appear- ing puzzled. business?” “Tolerably so, but I presume woolen manufacturing is better?” “Just so,” assented Townsend, absently. At this point Grit arose from the table, having finished his breakfast. “Mr. Townsend ‘seems. very social,” thought our hero, “but I think he is given to romancing. I don’t believe he has anything more to do with a woolen mill in Fall River than I have.” Grit reached the station in time, and took his seat in the train. He bought a morning paper, and began to read. “Ah, here you are, my young friend!” fell on his ear just after they passed Saco, and Grit, looking up, saw his breakfast companion. “Ts the seat beside you taken?” asked Mr. Daniel Townsend. Grit would like to have said “Yes,” but he was compelled to admit that it was “Do you find it a paying rather unengaged. Sy Jon “So much the better for me,” said the woolen manufacturer, and he sat down beside our hero. He had with him a small, well-worn valise, which looked as if in some remote period it had seen better days. He laid it down, and, looking keenly about, ob- served Grit’s parcel, which, though com- monplace in appearance, contained, as we Brandon has |} know, thirty thousand dollars in ment bonds. “It is rather a said Mr. Townsend. “Yes; but it seems shorter when you have something to read, answered Grit, looking wistfully at his paper, which he would have prefe rred reading to listening to. the conversation of his neighbor. “T never care to read on the cars,” said Mr. Townsend. “I think it is injurious to the eyes. Do you ever find it so?” “T have not traveled enough to be able to judge,” said Grit. “Very likely. At your age I had traveled a good deal. My father was @ rich merchant, and as I was fond: of rov- ing, he sent me on a voyage to. the Med- iterranean on one of his vessels. I was sixteen at that time.” “TI wonder whether this is true or not,” thought Grit. “TI enjoyed the trip, though I was sea- govern- long ride to Boston,” sick on the Mediterranean. It is really more trying than the ocean, though you might not imagine it. Don’t you think you would enjoy a trip of that sort?” “Yes; I am sure I would,” said Grit, with interest. “Just so; most boys of your age are fond of traveling. _.Perhaps I might find it in my way to gratify your wishes. Our corporation is thinking of sending outa traveler to Europe. You are rather young, but still Imight be able to get it for you.” “You know so little about me,” said Grit, sensibly, “that I wonder you should think of me in any such connection.’ “That is true. I don’t know anything of you, e xcept what you have told me.’ “That isn’t much,” thought Grit. “And it may be nee essary for me to know more, 1 will ask you a few ques- tions, and report your answers to our di- rectors at their meeting next week.” “Thank you, sir; but I think we will postpone discussing the matter this morn- there any time better than the present?” inquired Townsend. Grit did not care to say much about himself until attr he had fulfilled his er- rand in the city. He justly felt that with such an important charge it was neces- sary for him to use the. greatest caution and circumspection. Still there was a bare possibility that the man beside him was really what he claimed to be, and might have it in his power to give him a business commission which he would en- oy “Tf you will call on me at Parker’s Hotel this evening,” said Grit, “Twill speak with you on the subject.” “Whom shall I inquire for?” Fall River manufacturer. “You need not inquire for any name. You will find me in the reading-room at eight o’clock.’ “Very well,” answered Mr. Townsend, appearing satisfied. The conversation drifted along till they reached Exeter. Then Mr. Townsend arose in haste, and, seizing Grit’s bundle instead of his own, hurried toward the door. Grit sprang after him and snatched the precious pack- age. “You have made a mistake, Mr. Town- send,” he said, eying his late seat-com- panion with distrust. “Why, so I have!” ejaculated Town- send, in apparent surprise. “By Jove! it’s ‘lucky you noticed it. That little satchel of mine eontains some papers and certificates of great value.” “In that case I would advise you to be more eareful,” said Grit, who did not be- lieve one word of the last statement. “So I will,” said Townsend, taking the satchel. “Iam going into the smoking- car. Won’t you go with me?” “No, thank you. “T have a spare cigar,” urged Townsend, " Thank you again, but I don’t smoke.” “Oh, well, you’re right, no doubt, but it’s an old habit of mine. I began to smoke when I was twelve years old. My wife often tells me I am injuring my health, and, perhaps, I am. Take the ad- vice of a man ol¢ enough to be your fa- ther, and don’t smoke.’ “That’s good advice, sir, and I shall probably follow it.” | : “Well good-day, if we don’t again,” said Townsend. Mr. Townsend, instead of passing into the smoking-car, got off the train. Grit observed this, and was puzzled to ac- count for it, particularly as the train started on, leaving him standing on the platform. A few minutes later the conductor asked the meet passed through the train, calling for tickets. Grit looked in vain for his, and, de- ciding that he should have to pay the fare over again, he felt for his pocket-book, but that, too, was missing. He began’ to understand why Mr. Townsend left the train at Exeter. (TO BE CONTINUED.) —_—___~+-e-»—___—_ Takk a rest; a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop, PF cSt STORES: SS ISSUED WEEKLY, W. B. Lawson, Editor, NEW YORK, OCTOBER 23, 1890. Terms to Mail Subscribers: (POSTAGE FREE.) 8months - + «- = - 65c. lcopy, two years - $4.00 4months - - += + - 85c.| The New York Weekly and 6months - - - = - $1.25 | Goop NEws, both for one One Year - - - - - 2.50| year - - - <= = 2 copies, one year- - 4.00 How To SEND MONEY.—We will be responsible for the receipt of money sent to us only when remittance *. made ce Post-Office Money Order, Bank Check or Draft, Registered Letter or Express Money Order. We particularly recommend our subscribers to the Ameri- can Express Company, who will receive subscriptions at any of their offices, and guarantee the delivery of any amount not over $5.00 for the low sum of five cents. We cannot be responsible for money lost in transit unless sent in one of the above ways. To CLuB RaIsERS.—We are at all times ready ana willing to lend you all possible aid, and will send, free, as many sample copies as you think you can ju- dicionsly use, together with other advertising matter. Special inducements made for large clubs, All letters should be addressed to STREET & SMITH’S GOOD NEWS, P. 0. Box 2734. 29 & 31 RoseStreet,N. Y. Back numbers of GOOD NEWS can always be obtained from your Newsdealers. If they do not have them please send direct to this office and we will supply them by mail on receipt of price. None of the stories published in GOOD NEWS will appear in book-form. Contents of this Number. ‘Midshipman Merrill,” by Lieut. Lionel Lounsberry. “The Young Duck Hunters,” by W. B. Lawson. “Grit,” by Horatio Alger, Jr. “Guy Harris, the Runaway,” by Harry Cas- tlemon. “Down the Slope,” by James Otis. “On Land and Sea,” by Wm. H. Thomes. “Grimesy,” by **Jack.” (Comic.) “What. Shall Our Boys Do?” by Charles Barnard. “The Gregg-Mc Duffy Case,” by Max Adeler. “A Brave Seaman,” ‘Roll of Honor—War Heroes.” ‘Interesting Facts,” by John R. Coryell. And the usual interesting departments, 0 Go not fail to read the sketches, en- +s) titled, “Interesting Facts,” by the G4 well-known writer John R. Coryell. These articles, although mostly scientific, are not dull but written in a lively strain that is bound to please and instruct our host of readers. : CHATS WITH READERS, “ar Y DEAR FRIENDS:—My first J y words to you are these: Be boys while you are boys. If you talk “ToSs> with many men they will tell you pt would give anything they possess, if they were only boys again—which goes to prove they were in too great a hurry to get out of their boyhoo2 into manhood, to enjoy themselves as boys. Don’t spend the greater.part of your leisure time in thinking what you would do if you were “only a man,” but in thinking how you can best enjoy yourself as a boy. You can never be a first-class boy but once, and “don’t you forget it!” If you are a well-regulated boy, you will have certain times allowed _ you for play. See how well you can play. Choose kinds of play that will make you strong and healthy, and play as if you meant it; this will give you a good appetite, a ruddy complexion, develop you instrength and beauty, and make you what God de- signed sou to be—a happy, cheerful, handsome boy. Improve every moment allotted you for play to the best possible advantage, remembering you will never have those moments again, and _ therefore they are golden. Don’t forget, dear boys, to treat your playmates with kindness and generosity, expecting and demanding, of course, the same treatment from them. It is your right, and if you can’t enforce it any other way do it with your muscle—providing the offender be one of “your size.” To those who are below you in size and ersenet hy be especially gentle and kind. Another thing, stop playing when you are through; pull up promptly to ‘the minute, and go cheerfully to your studies or tasks. Leave all thoughts of play on the play-ground, and strive to be just as earnest, just as much interested in, and GFOOdD just as happy about your work or studies, as you were in your play. My next letter will be about work, for if you are to be a first-class boy you must work as well as play. me INTERESTING FACTS, BY JOHN R. CORYELL, ——- + —-— Semething About Mesmerism. es ;S mesmerism a fact, or is it only a iL fancy of the lover of marvels? There are very many persons who will de- clare that mesmerism is pure hum- bug, while as many others will give it place as a supernatural power. Others again will shake their heads and declare that they do not know what to make of it, and a very few will say positively that it is a perfectly natural phenomenon which can be satisfactorily explained. At the outset it must be said most em- phatically that mesmerism is no humbug as far as it relates to that absolute con- trol of one person by another, by which the former’s power of action is dependent upon the will of the other. All persons are not, however, capable of exercising the power in the same degree, and all per- sons are not alike subject to its influence. Like all forces not. generally understood, mesmerism in this day and in times past has been used by charlatans to deceive credulous persons and incidentally enrich themselves. Now it is timely to say that mesmerism is an incorrect and misleading term. Dr. Mesmer, who was born in 1733, was the first man of prominence who made a study of the strange phenomenon which from the time of the early Egyptians had been observed. Mesmer first thought that electricity, and then that magnetism, was the force, but afterward came to the con- clusion that it was something unknown which pervaded the whole universe, and was especially powerful in the nervous system of man. He wrote books, made cures, and created such a furor that the force was named after him. Now the term commonly used in learned circles is neuro-hypnotism, or nerve-sleep. Hypnot- ism is coming into popular use, and is probaby the most appropriate name. There is as yet no explanation of hypnot- ism which can be confidently accepted, but it has been ascertained beyond a doubt that it isa purely physical con- dition, and in no way a product of super- natural agencies. Anybody may hypnotize himself or another person, if he knows how to go about it; but it is a dangerous game to play, as highly nervous persons may be even killed by a prolonged or vio- lent subjection to the state of hypnotism. Some persons have the power to throw others into a hypnotic state merely by making passes over the face and head; but there is no well-authenticated case of a person having thrown a stranger into the state merely by acommand. This is sometimes told as true, but never sub- stantiated. The real fact, and it is some- times startling enough, is this, that a erson who has once submitted to the in- uence of a hypnotist (if the word may be used) is less able than another to re- sist any subsequent exertion of that in- fluence. After several times submitting to the hypnotist’s power he becomes ab- solutely the creature of his will, nod, a word, even an unuttered com- mand is all powerful with the victim. The writer has seen such a victim force his way like a madman through a dense crowd in order to reach the hypnotist, who had caught his eye and merely nudded his head. When in the hypnotic state the subject is the creature of the operator, who has only to say that the weather is freezing to make his really perspiring victim turn up his coat-collar and datos about to be- come warm. An onion becomes an orange, a broomstick a gallant horse, a poker a lovely damsel at the simple word of the operator. The most trying feature of it all is that in many cases the poor victim is perfectly conscious after it is all over of the ab- surd figure he has cut for the amusement of others. In one of our Western mining towns a professional hypnotist gave an exhibition of his powers, and among other subjects to his influence was a stalwart Cornish- man, who had not an over good reputa- tion for gentleness of disposition. The large proportions and rather fierce ex- ression of the miner made him an excel- Tent subject, and he was made to smirk, and simper, and otherwise conduct him- self as a silly school-girl. Unfortunately for the professor, Corney was aware, upon regaining consciousness, of all he had said and done, and conse- quently his first conscious act was to rush at the he notist with the intention, as he expressed it, of “banging his brains out.” he professor scented his danger in a moment, and made a flying leap off the NEWS. stage, Corney after him. Up the middle aisle and down the side aisle flew the professor, followed by the angry miner, the audience howling with delight, Luckily for the hypnotist, his heels and head were both quick, and by the time he had reached the stage and scram- bled upon it, he was ready for his pur- suer. He turned quickly, made a few passes, and shouted, “Stop!” Corney was like a lamb once more, but the professor was still in a quandary. He neither dared to keep Corney under the influence nor release him, The final result was that the gross re- ceipts of that exhibition were turned over to Corney’s friends, and the professor left town in the early stage of the next morn- ing. At one time it was hoped that hypnot- ism could be of great service in taking the place of ether in surgical operations, but there were objections raised which, whether good or bad, have not yet been overcome in the medical profession. While in the hypnotic state a person is utterly unconscious of pain, but the medi- cal profession has a dislike to using any force which is not thoroughly under con- trol and the nature of which is not cer- tainly known. There can be no doubt that in proper hands the power to hypnotize can be em- ployed with great advantage, but it is equally true that in improper hands it is a dangerous factor. The indiscriminate exercise of the pevier should be discour- aged, if not forbidden, and certainly no person should permit himself to be sub- jected to its influence. The danger of doing so must be evident to every one, “GOOD NEWS” HUMANE SOCIETY FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. HEROISM TO BE REWARDED, Recognizing the fact that there are a large number of young heroes who are never rewarded in any way for risking their lives to save others, we have formed a “ Humane Society” in connection with Goop NEws. The above cut is a fac-simile of a solid gold medal, which will be presented, suitably engraved, to all who become members of the above society. We also intend publishing in the columns of Goop NEws an account of the deed which entitles one to wear this emblem of heroism, To do justice to all, and avoid any deception, we will have to take extra precaution, and we must therefore have an authentic statement from a reliable source that the party in question jeopardized his life in a good cause. The existence of this society dates from May, 1890 and notice cannot be taken for heroic acts performed prior to the date of organization of this society. If you are entitled to become a member of this society, and receive the gold medal described above, write out a full history of the event, and have it witnessed and signed. by three responsible citizens, and a notary public of the town or city where it happened. The medal is intended for life-savers only. ——. A\HE friends of Joseph Devine have re- \? quested us to present him with our ~*~) gold medal for heroically saving the ~~ Jife of aman named Dillon last July. The following account of the deed is taken from the Providence, R. I., Bulletin. ANOTHER LIFE SAVED. 7 Joseph Devine Rescues a Man from Drowning, Making Six He Has Saved. A man whose name is Dillon, and who hails from*Bristol, tell off the Providence and Norfolk Steamship Line’s wharf. Joseph Devine, a line- man for the Narragansett Electric Lighting Com- pany, saw the accident, and. stripping off his pantaloons and shoes, jumped in alter the man and rescued him from drowning. The man was so thankful that he offered to give his rescuer his gold watch, but the gift was declined. This is the sixth man that Devine has rescued from drowning, and he has already received two medals for his humane endeavors. One of these, a gold medal, was presented by the town of Cranston, and the other, a silver medal, was given by Congress, PROVIDENCE, R, I., 1890. Street & SMITH: Gents :—Desiring to have your Goop News Hu- mane Society Medal among my collection, I for- ward this petition with accompanying published account of my recent rescue of a man from drown- ing near Norfolk Steamship Co.’s wharf on the 15th of July, in the Providence River, and if such evidence is sufficient for you to think me deserv- ing of the honor, I will gladly, and very thankfully accept of it. Yours, JOSEPH DEVINE. Care of Narragansett Electric Light Co.,270 Dyer st., Providence, R. I. Witnesses, Henry Green, Abe Green, and Edward J, Rogan. E, D, McGuinness, ‘Notary Public, + icklets. BY CHARLES W. FOSTER. aes Racing Against Time. School Boy—“‘I want a racer.” Stationary Dealer—*‘Racer ?” to School Boy—‘Yes, one 0’ them rubber things rub mistakes out quick ‘fore th’ teache ‘em,’ A Big Stock. i be Stranger (after ten years’ absence)— What re earns of Bad, Luck & Co.? When 1 an they n financial straits—selling out at cost. Citizen—*They are at the old stand—still sellin8 out,’ Our Public School System. ” Pupil—‘‘Please, ma'am may I geta arink ‘yta Teacher (amazed)—“What? A drink? It hour since you had a drink.” erel for Pupil—*Please, ma’am, we had mack breaktast.” ts that Teacher (severely)—“Tell your paren cept 0 hereafter they are not to have mackerel Saturdays.” An Unfailing Sign. Miss Westend—*And can you always Ju man’s character by the way he laughs: be Social Philosopher—“Oh, no; not by the way laughs, but by what he laughs at.” A Dull Time. o’ that Dock Lounger—‘‘W hat makes the captain steamboat so glum ?” 4 gqoash ® Deck Hand—‘He ain’t been able t yacht fer three days.” The Rule. t pight Miss De Culture—“Mother, I dreamt 148 that we were living in a log cab'n.” W Mrs. De Culture—Well, my dear, yoy dreams, like weather predictions, 8° traries.” ge of 4 ow Oo A Cruel Sport. ng Young Lady—“Don’t you think fox-huatl cruel sport ?” ture, D8 Escort—-‘Ya-as, it is. It’s regular * aW jove. I hav’n’t been able to sit down 10 Popular Women. Miss Longpurse—‘‘Why, of course, Troy was beautiful. Do you suppose th ene pads’ have been a twenty-year war’over her if been beautiful ?” Mr. Shortcash (forgetting himself)— know. Maybe she was rich.” All Danger Avoided. oak Small Boy—‘‘Mamma, Johnny Spry nesta Clincher are going to the woods after May I go ‘long ?” ou Fond Mother—‘‘No, my dear, I’m atrald yup fall from some tree and hurt yourself; e ” go with me this afternoon to the mins Where Larders Are Falk oneo Young Tramp—‘‘Let’s break into the nothing that big house to-night, and get 50 inert eat.’ pb Old ‘Tramp—We wouldn't find Minto we Them folks puton to much style. folks of kitchen o’ steady-gotn’, old-fashioned want ter strike a banquet.” Merely Eccentric. “ Visitor—“Who is that crazy fool?” merely Host—He is not a crazy tool. He 1s centric.” Visitor—‘‘Rich. eh ?” Secrets of Greatness: eiilid. {0 Ambitious Youth—Father, I aim wa a 8 go through life a nobody. 1 wish to ee of ge I long to breathe the sweet atmosphe youl ad Tam resolved to become great. me ?” und? Wise Father—‘With pleasure. of greatness is a good education.’ A he £0 . Y.—“I am laying it.” d W. F.—“Next, you need industly as habits. ’ A. Y.—‘*Yes. What else?” W. F.—“Always be polite to newSP A Valuable Service: nef prot” Winks—“Do you ever read the WeA™™ eg bilities in the daily papers?” very Minks—“Yes, llook over them © see how near they come to it.” Self-Helps for Boston ; Passenger (who is going to Bosto in city map or guide)—‘“Say, boy, 1 am rd oe ton for the first time. ‘Have you 2 es" will help me to find my way around ‘tional Train Boy—“Yesser. Got pocket New Furniture. ut time Mrs. De Fashion—“I think it’s abo had some new furniture.” p poo" Miss De Fashion—‘Well, Til 80 se old Antique & Co,’s and see if they hav' w aper mem fe ture,’ aos Old Enough. ter’s wed gf Mrs. Grubbs—‘‘And so your dau ne your ' day is set? Don’t you think she tp marry ?” Mrs. Dubbs—‘‘No, indeed. pn whole family for three years. The Enviable Wee 2 Waiter (holding out his black pe phat RS mostly remembers th’ waitah, sa4, is gen’men, sah.” ter Guest (impatiently dropping & queqidn e has fellow’s fist)—‘‘Hem ! By the way, pe see you ina Montana restaurant ed pact we Waliter—‘Yes, sah, but I soon ysiness Q sah. No money in de waitin’ Dt Guests mostly goes armed, sab. Theory and Pracr Doctor (to brother physician) = is fresh alt yp | the sovereign remedy for ail ils © 0 plenty of it. People’ don’t le ys their houses, Well, I must errand.” ” {0 Brother Physician—‘Going yoni ‘store “No, only down to the hard” ™ © half a mile of weather-stripping- 6 got | “0 St 2 {0 iT things sacher 868 what be" ; they wel? ‘still sellin nine ” eit isn't ackerel for that arents 21 except 3 juage of # the way be tain o eat t’ gpoasl # t jast pight ow ou kn zo wy ox punting , re, 0% ture 0 fob 8 wee of elen Chore woth ygsne na” ,§ ‘Ob, I aos" ‘ pick and 7 nesta raid yo" pay . puty? strels- all. of iitcbeh tg pom thins much ter Git, OU set folks ° is merely © “unit mee jeave 2 nere of 1 you ne round yt ” paper a i . 0m” eather ef very Goonp NEW SB. 377 WDSHIPMAN MERRILL From Forecastle to Quarterdeck. “T humbly ask your pardon, my friend, and will escort you to the commandant | and report my own rude behavior and its | just punishment.” “T thought there was manhood in you, mate, but there is no need of reporting anything. I have adry suit aboard my craft, and will soon rig up and return egret losing his temper with Winslow Dil- | schooner give an account of his seeking ingham, who had shown himself such a|an anchorage where he had. good fellow after all. Having heard of the trouble Mark had Of course, he did not suppose that he|met with ashore, Captain Crane gazed would have drowned, for there were too|upon the spry young middy with no many manly fellows upon the wall who | friendly,eye. could swim toallowthat. — “Are you the.sailing master of. this But, having placed his life in jeopardy | craft?” asked the midshipman, pompously. himself, he was the ashore, when maybe some of these gentle- men will show me my course.” “We'll march you there in force, sir, for somehow you've caught on in great shape with us baby tars,” said a cadet, stepping forward and offering his hand, while he added: “My name is Herbert Nazro, a first- class man.” “And here’s my hand, sir, as a friend,” said Cadet Captain Byrd Bascomb. “Don’t overlook my extended grip,” cried Cadet Sergeant Neil Carrol. By Lieut. LIONEL LOUNSBERRY, one to prevent any : 5 ati fatality therefrom. Rg tir genar pba dat a The idea that the youth could not swim had never entered his mind, for, swim- ming like a fish himself, and never re- membering when he could not do so, he supposed it was the most ordinary ac- complishment, and, as he had said, he merely wished to cool the temper of the one who had set upon him asa butt to be made fun of. “What’s the trouble ashore, my lad?” asked Captain Jasper Crane, who was _— + - wv - = 2 ‘ iMsHrpMaN MERRILL” was commenced in No. 22 Numbers can be obtained of all News Agents. J CHAPTER XIV. FACING THE MUSIC. WAHE quick retort made by Mark Mer- ~ rill to Winslow Dillingham’s in- Sulting words brought a general And so it went on until Cadet Lieuten- | about to launch the schooner’s yawl to a laugh, for the cadets were quick to/ant Frank Latrobe seemed to be sud- | come to the shore when he saw Mark re- PPreciate wit and sarcasm, even if di-|denly inspired with a thought, for he| turning. ted at one of their number. guidet Dillingham had offered the insult th asked eagerly: “IT say, my friend, are younotthe youth who was appointed by the President?” “T was appointed at large, sir, yes.” “And it was for services rendered, was it not?” “It was from the kindness of the Secre- “Oh! nothing to speak of, sir, only I had to stop some funny business one of the boys played on me, and finding he} could not swim I leaped in after him.” | “Just like you, Master Mark, just like you,” said Captain Crane, following the!) youth into the cabin. “tuitously, and he had gotten a reply At Offended him deeply. the ® laugh of his comrades angered him More, and stunz by the words of the al user and their enjoying them, he lost “IT am the mate, very much at your sarvice, young officer.” “Where is the master?” “The capting is down in his cabing; but if you wish to see him I’ll send yer keerd, and maybe he’llsee yer, maybe he won't.” The face of the youth flushed at this, and he asked sternly: “Is this a yacht on a pleasure cruise, my man?” “Now, see here, my boy, I hain’t your man. I’m my old woman’s man, and nobody else has a claim on me, for I am o’ age.” “ Answer my question, sir?” “Yes, it are a yacht on a cruise, but leetle pleasure I’m thinking it will bring her captain by comng into this port.” “T wish the name of your vessel, her |}owner, and why she is here. ’ “I suppose ef I don’t tell yer, you’ll tarn yer big guns on the craft: but as I said, lam only the mate, and the cap- i Control of himself, and sprang before M Merrill in a threatening attitude. nae had not advanced a step since ding, nee Stood upon the wall where he had an re upon ascending from his boat, lite € simply paused to ask a po- ing Westion, a received an insult- he sponse. Silene first insult he had accepted in “ but the second one he had q Stung to reply to. iy, 8 at once that he would Whater® fight his way—that Migh Ver the “future admirals” Bht be considered by out- they were merciless Siders, A Stranger who came into T midst, wr yy Ptkly over the crowd he dig Un his eyes, and he hig “med with intuition that favo, vort had put him in Were With some of those who laugh iprers of fair play. v ad turned the ae Midshipman Dilling- tontaend he was satisfied and a to drop al] ill-feeling. Cadet, hot so with the irate Hi td Deas’ Own attempt at smart- t Y ad gotten him worsted the la &r,and he must turn hee to protect himself 18 OWn comrades. hew well the position » that many stood in hig im on account of Mitte strength and ad- Now Courage, he was angry, and he What “ to resent physically do j, © felt he could not So hover of words. long yo Squared himself be- forth ark Merrill, and hissed he ZA 3 te ae eee a Mith ‘angen’ his eyes blazed Monde act your insulting You ri he or I shall chastise t here |” 0 vy . i Many. YOu mean it, mate?’ io Asked, in an i e aoe , In an innocent way, MEE SLE s 8 : : ‘ 5 EZ wd oy smiled audibly at this, PTO: ie LE! le se, ith co Ow Dillingham grew whiter \G=s.S = S32 7 ‘Yes }’ while he savagely said: Ss ; re lake 4? 4 do mean it. Ask my pardon or ” & t} iW “§ Consequences, sir ‘ ar ” th are the consequences? “Wey Shing.” {yy [don't wish to be whipped, so : ‘‘WE COME AS A CONVOY TO CONDUCT HIM TO YOUR PRESENCE, AND I BEG TO INTRODUCE r ~ : } i Pardon, fence your insult to me, I’ll ask HIM AS MR, MARK MERRILL.” Tr what I said.” ‘ ‘ watetract okie: tary of the Navy and Commodore Lucien, “AndI tells yer, lad, you'll find more Ney 4 Will y ee ied rather.” hard knocks to put up with among them “ ; you insist upon thrashing | “you are the man we have been told! brass-buttoned gentry ashore than you'd “ws ; of? Go aboard your flagship, put on your; get as a foremast hand on a merchant dry togs, and we’ll march you to the | craft, commandant at a quick step.” p thie tt with?” 88 too much for Cadet Dilling- “My advice to yer, would have been to a iva; ckAete AiG wed the tw?’ aavi May. nd he aimed a savage blow at| ,1"* cadets showed that this advice! .tick“to your little craft here and make alt matte. 3 | chimed in with their humor, and spring: | money; but then you is high-minded and : : 1 j i is boat Mark sent it flying back | Ae ag . ; ae : han "88 cley erly caught, and quicker | /2& 1=00 his boat Mark sent it flying back | 7 ;nows it’s in yer to make a name for nh fadg,s fash M toward the schooner, while the dripping ark Merrill had seized the | 7%."* yerself, if yer sets about it, only the In . € ; 4 H } ‘ r¢ 8 “yy > | re s ‘ ’ ’ . , the Wat ‘8S arms and hurled him into Dillingham was surrounded by a squad course are a rough one to sail. Maybe me “y iter, with tl ears of friends, to hide his condition, and | ; i . the Hove ashore with MAD are top : marched off to his room to also get on | *2¢ One © the boys better go ashore win L ogg ps € too hot to argue with, so tm att tie ; ; ¢ | yer next time, for we is some handy with ith . dee Se r : r flukes when we is : Ras bene tt @splash Cadet Dillincham went| “Keep him there, Nazro, until I can get our flukes when we isrun afoul * ‘ «path t} VadeU AINE "MY | ready, for I wish to be in the procession,” | Mark laughed heartily, for it came into 16 surface, when the cry arose: layne ¢ ; . T Tinalow Dillingham. as he dove| his mind how he had seen the skipper ay hte nnot swim a stroke,” and the said Winslow Dilling ee ed ; 3 TY On every 1} eer ee into his room to change his clothes, glad | and his sons run afoul of, as he expressed by ‘phat 80 the, Ap bobs be mon. Then | to escape the argus-eyed officers about the it, one day in Portland, by a gang = Ang 2Ul him o1 pe cere oy = * >. | buildings and grounds. |roughs, and had a fair demonstration of the With Sana Mark AER WE SIE SAS 4 how “handy they were with their flukes. Youth’? wa ] ana os xe ae phoma au To see him go ashore under an escort Sut 2,12 his stroz geesneti Se ee ne CHAPTER XV. amused him greatly, as_he pictured ces east &@ landin, ‘8 Ath th yee: ia: SArpAC ‘G THE VENTURE cadet-midsipmen being og a ew ga vy Coleg right, = poe ve akin as POR REE ere ~ the trio of salts from the Kennebec, » mate, the ducking has} , But he thanked the captain for his offer, Wing the temper of bo Bis ro ark Merri is salt-water batl . ; : ; § 2 th of us. TAO Mark Merrill his salt-water bath a 7 : ce i: Monti whitle ween me” Dillingham "mathe no reply | ‘> with his clothes on was nothing to | os Sia erage aoe serge seg She was hauled out by Her-| }L) speak of. é : Se : low Nazro, a deskiteond.- handsome fel- ( Mite had lived so much in his; A boat had come alongside with a ined the first class. he said as he|skiff, been overboard so often, that he | middy in command, sent from the man- N rill: oe of-war, to have the skipper of the strange fark Merrill: (thought nothing of it, though he did re- ¢{\ 5 / We Hh in 18 i a) ni i ae tain will be on deck in a min- ute, for he is down below changing his clothes, havin just thrown a young admira in the drink, and then had to jump in and pull him out to sented to the commandant of the Naval Academy he felt deeply embarrassed at the pub- licity which had: been given to his ar- rival. He had sailed up to the academy from Norfolk to save money on the railroads, and then he saw that Skipper Crane and his sons had a lurking desire to see where he was going to anchor for the next few years, while cramming his head with all the cargo of learning necessary to make a skilled naval officer. And Mark had been anxious to have the skipper tell his mother when he returned that he had left him at his destination, and what he thought of his future home. He certainly had not intended to at- tract attention by his arrival, but great- ness had been forced upon him by a com- bination of circumstances which he could not avoid. Although when the commandant had entered the navy, back in the “Forties” there had been no naval school, except aboard ship, he had been a middy, and was well aware that they had not changed much since those days. He understood that Cadet Captain Bascomb and his mates had in some way gotten wind of the coming of Mark Mer- rill, and had at once seized upon him as a hero, the fact of his saving the yacht Midshipman having leaked out. There were a number of officers at head- quarters; and they, as well as the com- mandant, looked on with interest at the introduction of the newly-appointed lad. Mark, though his face was flushed with embarrassment, had doffed his tarpaulin and stepped forward toward the com- mandant, and said: “T-am ordered to report to you, sir, but did not know that I was breaking any rule in coming as I did by water,” “T am glad to meet you, Mr, Merrill, and to welcome you to the Naval Acad- emy, while I do not know of any law against a cadet coming by water.” And the commandant smiled, while, turning to the cadets, he continued: , “You may leave Mr. Merrill in my charge now, Captain Bascomb, and I am gald that you gave him the welcome you did, as, from all accounts, he is deserv- ing of it.” The cadets saluted, and were marched off by their captain, while the comman- dant, in a kindly way, invited Mark into his quarters. To his surprise Mark beheld in the room, standing by the window where he had seen all, no less a personage than Scott Clemmons. The latter had just arrived, and re- ported to the commandant. He was most fashionably attired, wore a spotless white silk tie around his stand- ing collar, and held.in his hand’ a high hat, presenting a perfect specimen of the youthful genus dude. His face was pale and his eyes had an angry look, as he turned them furtively upon Mark, “Here is alsoa young gentleman from your State, in fact, I believe you are neighbors, as you both hail from B—— Mr. Merrill, Mr. Clemmons,” said the commandant, introducing them. Scott Clemmons, in a nervous way, half stepped forward with extended hand, but Mark simply bowed, ignoring the hand, a fact which the keen eyes of the com- mandant took in, and rather set down against Mark, who said: “Yes, sir, J have met Mr. before.” There was something in the tone and manner in which it was said that con- vinced the commandant that. their meet- ing had not been a pleasant one, and Scott Clemmons remarked in a_ supercilious way: “Yes, commandant, but this young man does not move in my circle at home, being only a fisher lad.” The commandant almost gave a start, and his kindly face changed so suddenly toa look of sternness that even Scott Clemmons saw that he had made a mis- take. Had he not seen it, he was instantly made cognizant of the fact, for the com- Clemmons mandant turned directly toward him, and said in a distinct way: “Mr. Clemmons, I believe your father is a man of great wealth and comes of am aristocratic family, but you must GS tinetly learn at once that here, in tis Naval School, neither polities, riches, nor family connections hold the slightest 2 fluence. “There are no cliques; all who come here come as young gentlemen, 42 though many are from the lowest Wwalk® of life they must be gentlemen here. “Mr. Merrill may have been @ fisher lad, but I have it from the best of au- thority that he made an _ honest living and supported his mother, and he va appointed here for having nobly risked — his life to save the lives of others.” “IT never heard of that, sir, and dered how he got appointed,” blustere out the confused Clemmons. “You never heard how he saved the yacht Midshipman from being wrecked, with the Secretary of the Navy and othe distinguished gentlemen on oard : asked the commandant, with some sur won- d sir, it was not known in our “Then, sir,” was the very decided an: swer, “Mr. Mark Merrill is as modest, he is brave, not to have told of his daring deed,” and he glanced at Mark, whe oi plied with a quiet dig at Scott Clemmon'd “J move in no social circle, sir, 50 no one to tell it to.” ay The commandant turned his head awe to hide a satisfied smile, while 5 Clemmons felt that he had made & 8# mistake in his slur at Mark for beiné only a fisher lad. CHAPTER XIX. A COTT CLEMMONS was nevi politic young man for one is years. oN He had seen the gathering of tN cadets, and recognized Mark Merril n- their midst, and it had made him vious and hateful. F One whom he hated was comin flying colors it seemed. Wondering how Mark had gotten appointment, and angry because. he done so, he saw that he was made @ of from the start, or else why this P lar demonstration in his favor. ex- “Of course, he will never pass ee for aminations, for he is too ignoraD that,” he said to himself. tered Then had _the commandant re-eM iy with Mark Merrill, and the vain yO nce had sneered at the sailor-boy appe™ ater of the lad, and thought what a far grerne impression he would make in his clothes and polished manner. ferred ' It was in a pitying way he had rei" 46 to Mark’s being a fisher lad, 4? with meant to condescend to shake hands ip him when introduced, but got the cv eroni- this from the one he intended to P# ize. + stakes Seeing that he had madea MM oof from the commandant’s severe reP om the cunning youth meant to atone ir policy, to ate ie Scola an @ manliness, so he quickly said: n- “T really inteneasa ue slight. comma dant, but something occurred once and. unpleasant nature between Mer wit i myself, in which I am free to @ ,pand was at fault, so I frankly offer ae ite” now in friendship, ifthe will acceP® 4° af The commandant seemed plea® this, and glanced at Mark. an Da He was a splendid reader of hum” toll ture, could from his great experien€ ich. the inner workings of the heat, na be the face was striving to hide, @ saw that Mark Merrill had some 5 cause of quarrel against Scott Clea deeper by far than the latter ©# admit, or had implied. 8 But the good nature of the youns triumphed, and he said: » pand “T will accept Mr. Clemmons 6 go friendship, sir, if he means it faith.” , There was a world of meanin words: “If he means it in good ‘ The eyes of Mark Merrill looked™ ingly upon the face of Scott ah but he did not meet the gaze, face flushed painfully. This that keen observer, th dant, saw, and he read who ha transgressor in the past. “Now, Mr. Merrill, as Mr. had just reported when you voyed into port, as Cadet B a pressed it, I will hear what he ntteD to say to me and then give ™Y to you.” Mark bowed, while the ¢ read a letter from Merchant whom he had once met, an liberty of enclosing a libera the use of his son—the same , 88 have done — es been sending y boarding-school, our “a shail return this check to THREAT, mark- a, an g under nis pad hero opu- ailot in. od in ‘ ‘th. faite acl mone d bis omm an ¢, eer the k ] chemigh t him §% en mM, and father of an ‘t. dis- n this 28, NOL est 1- ea was risked won: stered od the seked, other pard? » pul n our d an- est as laring 10 Te mons: > hai away Scott a sa being : Ri GOooD NEWS. 379 xplain the situa- , after I have heard are before you,” and the com- boned not over-pleased with mmons’ letter. ms to Mark, and continued: P tcaden, ? Tam glad to welcome one Flo hay who comes as you do, Y hope that you, as well as Mr, mental’ May not find the physi- hing bie Eemination too great a Didone for you to surmount, : dof” Lucien has spoken of you been : What a devoted son you ss th Your mother, and it is just iy, Utgeo Make the greatest men. WY wage 24 examining committee j 7 Ndnet Y for you, and my orderly tity Nf) she to their quarters. ime young gentlemen,’ Soke andant bowed the two nttder tha after fame out, placing Xen € ance 7 = orderly. fy sy Se received the appoint- Ae iu wy, there being eee ‘other iuilter puatters just drawing on ' t his oe ins learned the sad tid- Wits, °St expansion was below y ep ee his general physical hs ep Such as to warrant his : Wm fers a cadet. p fo ny cast an envious look at he’, and Mark Merrill and Scott look the latter gave him a i Wong almost contempt, as Ae, being €r how he had dared an- Nh, the {Xcepted, a With geal formula was ; ts ana Clemmons being first Baa that his confident smile yy > he knew he, at least, had fam fo he atk's turn, and as he é ordeal the surgeon gave the occided expression of ale, a. (24's physique. ay), ahd Be, height, weight, chest deve 228ion were all taken, his *Pments noted, and the Tegarding having had any other injuries of a Were ; : t i. 48 straight as arrows, nat ot to a crucial test Bonet doy lenomenal,” and his ny Mtithin, as penect. Sy euler ife, the heart, swung MMi fou Y of clockwork, and not te, een’ in his teeth, which ng PeSseq and firm. Nag Was of his fine form and a youth Om, 3 teotigtt ever, I meet Mr. Mer- OF physique, u Bose, in a compli- ond Scott Clemmons in °° hide his plainly » the praise bestowed MB sailor, | ae they had : lat they did, or did not wi . iit | fail,” muttered Scott Rite Case, Sign hope that such - alternate hope and de- nd g Scott Cle 3; fairly th Wit} lemmons fairly to} One of the examiners, ‘ ark Merrill’s very Tn on Aor schooner in, Mr. a Ndlea pen asfwell as Congratulate you that etween you and your jiuttered Scott Clem- ismiec? than I did; but he Ssed in disgrace—I ; Itln (to BR CONTINUED.) Lith :-- i Tommy?s Bet Wis POM Iitag ster Y was entertaining one bs on S admirers until she ap- i rt YOU oe Brin, rat the what I come for.” Mit, dm; “nsely, don’t you ?” i, Ty 8 Rigg os 1er very much. Don’t ty Avg f ™e to see my sister?” ’ ’ Cause she’s r gist 6 she’s my sister, pretty hard sometimes. ire your mouth once; PR cou r bis oo do ig» ntten. There—I f i tly bar eo Said I couldn’t ?” byt Shen’ Sister 1 Bits Pay on + Saj ay? Tmo VOU h "Yon th ' Adn’t ony s] n't sense enough ad: mt, and I bet her two you have haven’t , ety gee put to the test, and} examinations or gone | he Over the brow of Scott Stoo oted the fact that Mark ag the test better than he | | | apples, won't you?” The young man did not wait to whether she would ‘‘stump up” or not. GRIMESY: THE BOY WHO WAS BORN JUST FOR FUN By “JACK.” + see (“ GRIMESY” was commenced in No, 16. Back num- bers can be obtained from all News Agents. } NUMBER NINE. THE MAJOR AS A DETECTIVE.—AN UNEASY BED, HAT’S this scent you’ve been 6 putting the old man on to?” ¥ asked Jags, next morning after “ev the concert. “Oh, nothing much,” replied Grimesy. “He wants to find out who put that dog into the box under the piano, and I’m trying to help him out, that’s all.” “How are you goin’ to do it?” “Dunno yet. I gave the gov’nora little clew, but I dunno whether he'll make anything out of it or not.” “What was the clew?” “Why, you know the dog has on a col- lar.” “se Yes.” “Well, the collar’s marked ‘C. H.’ ” “What does that stand for?” “Catherine Highsee, of course.” “Catherine nothing!” cried “That’s Caleb Hummel's dog!” “Is thatso?” asked Grimesy, innocently. “Yes, and you know it is. Now, old fellow, you know who put that dog in there.” “What makes you think so?” “T know it. Come, now, own up. I’ll never give you away, and if there’s any fun to be had out of the old man on the strength of it, I’m with you.” “Honest?” “ Honest.” “All right, it’s a go. I put the dog in there all right enough, but when the gov’nor tackled me about it, I put him | on this scent.” “Well, where’s the fun coming in?” “T’ll tell you. You see the gov’nor’s got that dog locked up down in the base- ;ment keeping it until he hears of Miss | Highsee inquiring for it, which he thinks she will, and he’s got all the help in the | house posted, so that the moment she in- quires about the dog they’!1 tell him, and Jags. | then he’ll bring the dog out and face her | with the crime. Ca] passed the | eine two youths went to| 88 to W & committee, who were “Of course, she knows no more about that dog than the dog knows about the | Fourth of July, and she’ll never ask for it; but Caleb Hummel does know about it, for it’s his, and he’ll be after it. |““Now, you know Caleb, and as he’s a 2 knew that the other | MN rage, as he heard | | pretty good sort of a chap, you can put 1im on to the racket. “How?” “When he comes in inquiring for his dog, you tell him on the quiet where it is, but tell him to keep mum for a few days. In the meantime we’ll advertise for the dog, pretending that it’s a young lady advertising,. and sign it ‘C. H.’ When the gov'nor delivers the dog at the number indicated is when we’ll have fun with him.” “How about Caleb?” “Oh, that’s another act in, the play. When the gov’nor gives up the dog, and is: pretty thoroughly disgusted over not finding the culprit who put it in the box, Caleb can come on him and make it hot for him for losing his dog.” You're a cute one, you are,” said Jags. “When are you going to advertise it?” “Right away. -I’ll go round to the Herald office now, if there’s nothing to do.” “You may go; but sha’n’t I write it out for you?” “Yes, you write it out,” said Grimesy. “You write a beautiful hand, if you do spell badly and eat with your knife. That’s what the printer is stuck on; he don’t care anything about your spelling or grammar, since you write a nice, ele- See?” gant fist, and capitalize most o’ the ” words. ; “You’re wrong; I never misspell a word,” said Jags. “By. the way, do you spell dog with a capital D?” : “That depends upon the size and build of the dog. ane dog you would, small dog you wouldn't.” “How about a medium-sized dog?” _ “Split the difference, and spell it with small capital.” “All right, here you are. “ Cert. ” And away Grimesy dashed. 4 Early the next morning the major Hurry back.” called Grimesy up into his room. The you? And you'll make her stump up the | paper in his hand and a broad smile on his face when Grimesy entered. “We've got it, major, grasping Grimesy’s hand. “What, the small-pox?” “No, the—the person who put the dog in the box the other night.” “Is that so?” asked Grimesy, glancing inquiringly about the room. - “ Where?” “No, no; I mean we’ve got a clew the person’s whereabouts; don’t understand?” “Oh, yes,” said Grimesy, as if it had just struck him. “ Well?” “Why, here it is, the very dog, and signed ‘C. H.’ ” “You don’t say so.” “Yes...See?” to you put in. “Yes, sir, that’s the very dog. what are you going to do?” “Why, deliver the dog to her, of course, and then charge her with the act. See?” “Great scheme,” said Grimesy. “Oh, but you’re a cunning one, major.” “Well, it takes a cute one to get ahead Now, major was sitting with the morning of me, my boy. She thought she was aw- ful cute, advertising for her dog, instead of asking for it in the house. Little did she think that I would be one of the first to see the advertisement. Oh, you’ve got to get up very early, Miss Highsee, to get ahead of the old major,” he laughed. “When are you going to take the dog around?” asked Grimesy. “That is one thing I wanted to speak to you about, my boy. She’ll doubtless go round to this place where she has di- rected the dog to be delivered some time to-day, and I want you to watch and see when she goes out and let me know.” “Mebbe she’s going to play sharp on you, though, major.” “How’s that?” “Mebbe she’s made arrangements for the folks at that number to receive the dog, and she won’t show up there.” “Great Scott! I hadn’t thought of that. What shall we do?” “Why, if she ain’t there refuse to give | the dog to any one, and tell the person | that comes to the door that you'll come back when she’s in, that you won’t trust anybody but her with the dog. Also ask who ‘C. H.’ is. She’s pretty sharp, and will probably go after her dog in the night.” “Then; maybe, I'd better wait till to- night.” “T think so. I’ll watch if she goes out to-night and give you a tip.” “Do, my boy,” said the major. “Oh, what would I do without you, Grimesy?” | “I’m afraid you’d miss me.” “Indeed, I would. Why, I couldn’t do business without you.” “It would be a little quiet, I reckon,” said Grimesy, as he strolled out. In the course of the day Caleb Hummel came in and inquired about his dog, and Jags put him on to the racket. That evening Grimesy rushed up to the major’s room and told him that, Miss | Highsee had gone out. “Good!” cried the major. “I'll go at once, and I want you to go with me, my boy.” “T’d like it, sir, but Jags wants me to go somewhere for some of the boarders,” said Grimesy. “That’s too bad,” said the major. “Then I'll have to go alone, I suppose.” And he put on his coat and started down after his dog, while Grimesy lit out to meet Merty at the number at which the dog was to be delivered, which was where Merty roomed. When Grimesy got there, he and Merty hastily dressed themselves in women’s egies and waited for the major’s ar- rival. Merty had aroom with a family who lived on the first floor. The head of the house, whose name was Benjamin Goeasy, was a middle-aged, jolly man, who was as fond of a joke as any boy, and Merty had no trouble in getting him into the scheme. The boys had not long to wait before the bell rang, and Grimesy went to the door, where he found the major leading the dog. “Does Miss Highsee live here?” he asked. : ; “Yes, . sir,” replied Grimesy, in a woman's treble. “Do you know whether she has lost a dog or not?” asked the major. “T think she has,” said Grimesy. “Won’t you come in?” : “Thank you,” said the major, stepping inside and dragging the dog, which was inclined to pull back. “Is—is she in?” he asked, in a neryous voice, pausing inside the door. “TI think she is, or will be soon. Come mh. The major walked on into the room, which was very dimly lighted, and sank into the chair which Merty had set for him. 5 “Has Miss Highsee got back yet?” asked Grimesy of Merty. An advertisement for | said the major, pointing | to the advertisement which Grimesy had | my boy,” shouted the | | | | | | “No, dear,” said Merty, “but her every minute.” “This gentleman has brought her dog,” said Grimesy. “How kind,” said Merty. “She will be delighted and pay you well, sir.” “l hope so,” said the major, nervously. “Oh, I’m sure she will,” said Merty, ~ The major sat for a long time, and al- though he was not much inclined to talk, they kept up a continual chatter with [ expect | him about one thing and another, until | finally he began to lose his patience, and asked: “Do you think she will night?” “I think so,” said Grimesy. “She said she would be back; but if you are ina hurry, you might leave the dog and call in the morning for your reward.” “No,” said the major, firmly, “I shall leave the dog with no one but Miss Highsee.” “Why,” said Grimesy, in an injured tone, “do you think we want to steal the dog? Do you think you wouldn’t get your reward?” “Not that exactly; but I desire par- ticularly to see Miss Highsee.” “Then you do suspect us, you horrid man!” cried Grimesy, pretending to weep. “This is too much!” “To think that we, two innocent girls, be here to- should be insulted by this bold, bad man!” cried Merty, also pretending to | weep, and rubbing his shoulder very ' close to the major's. “There, there,” said the major, coax- ingly. “I meant no harm.” “Yes you did, you_ horrid thing!” cried Grimesy, laying his hand on the major's other shoulder. “You said you wouldn't trust us, and that is the same as saying we’re dishonest! Boo-hoo-hoo !” “No, no my dear girl,” said the major, putting his arm around Grimesy. “It was so cruel to speak to two little, defenseless girls like that. If our pa was here he wouldn’t let you talk like that,” said Merty. “Don’t take on, my girly,” said the major, putting his other arm around him. “T wouldn’t hurt your little feelings for the world. You’re too nice a little girl for that, and if you'll only give mea kiss——” “Oh, you naughty man!” cried Grimesy. “You want to kiss my sister!” “Hush, you little minx, or I[']l kiss you,” laughed the major. “Don’t you dare!” cried Giimesy. “Yes, I will,” cried the major, releas- ing Merty and attempting to _ kiss Grimesy. “If I don’t, I’m——” But here both boys screamed, the door flew open, and in rushed old Goeasy, with a shotgun in his hand. “What are you doin’ with my darters!” yelled ‘Goeasy, leveling his gun at the major. “You old scoundrel! I'll blow the topo’ yer head off in about a second.” The major sprang up, gave a frightened look at the gunbarrel which was but a few inches. from his nose, and _ then glanced about the room for a place to get out. As the old man stood in the only door, and the two windows opening on the “well” or passage between that and the next house, were closed, escape seemed out of the question, and the major thought it better to conciliate with the |man with the gun, if possible. “My dear sir,” began the major, “there’s some mistake. I only——” “Oh, there is, eh? Mistake? Huh!” shouted Goeasy, dancing about in a mock frenzy of passion. “S’pose I made a mis- take in comin’ in, didn’t I? Ordid I make a mistake in thinkin’ I saw you huggin’ my darters? Pll mistake ye. Let me git a good aim at ye!” By this time the major was frightened nearly out of his wits. Seeing that argu- ment wouldn’t go with this old ruffian, as he supposed him to be, and expecting every moment to receive a double load of shot; he grew desperate. He commenced jumping about the room in the vain endeavor to keep out of range of the gun, stumbling over furniture in the dim light. Finally he edged round near the door and made a desperate dash to reach it, but the old fellow was too quick for him, and closed the doomand locked it. Things looked, indeed, desperate for the major. He imagined whe saw a fiendish gleam in the old man's eye that made his blood run cold. There was but one chance left the ma- jor—it was a hazardous one, but it. was a matter of life-and-death, and he deter- mined to take it. He watched his chance, and made a wild dash for the window. and went through, carrying the sash with him, but leaving a. good part of his clothing be- hind. The major would have been all right, barring a badly-wrecked wardrobe, the loss of his hat, and a dozen or so scratches from broken glass, for the pavement in the “well” wouldn’t have hurt him much; but, as ill-luck ordained it, there was a barrel of some sort of yellow dye stuff standing under the window. It was bad enough to fall waist-deep in this villain- ous stuff and discolor one’s clothes; but the old chap next door, to whom the dye belonged, seeing the major fall into it, and apparently objecting to having his dye wasted in that manner, rushed out with a club, and gave the major several hearty thumps over his head and shoulders before the unfortunate man could escape. The instant that the major jumped through the window, Grimesy hustled off his female apparel and hurried home, while Merty took the dog, which the ma- jor had left behind in his hasty flight, to its owner, Caleb Hummel. Grimesy had arrived at the hotel, and sat quietly in the office, looking as inno- cent as a dove, when the major entered, hatless, bruised, his clothes in shreds and reeking with the yellow dye. He didn’t say a word to any one, but hurried through the hall and went up to his room. “What’s the matter with the old man?” asked Boggles, in surprise. “Dunno,” replied Grimesy, innocently, “unless he’s been to another prayer-meet- ing.” “Prayer-meeting!” ejaculated Boggles. “A wake you mean! Say,” said Boggles, confidentially, “I’ll tell ye what I think; I think the old man’s spreeing lately.” “You don’t say so,” cried Grimesy. “It eos be. The gov’nor’s a church mem- er.” “That’s all right. But you know he was put out of church for drunkenness only a few Sundays ago, and he’s kept to his room pretending to be sick nearly ever since. And now he comes in looking as if he’d been drawn through a mangle and dipped in a sewer.” “Whitewashed with scrambled eggs, you mean,” said Grimesy. Just then Jags came down stairs into the office, giggling, and took Grimesy one side. “What have you been doing with the major?” he asked. “I just met him on the stairs, and he looks as if he’d been attending a buzz-saw festival,” Grimesy related the particulars of the racket, at which Jags laughed heartily, and then asked: “What’s become of the dog?” “Oh, Merty took it back to Hummel.” “T thought you was goin’ to have Hum- mel come after it, and make it hot for the major.” “That's right. We want to tell the major as soon as possible that the dog be- longs to Hummel, so that he won’t bother Miss Highsee.” “How’ll we manage it?” “T’ll tell him. He’ll be apt to call me up yet to-night or first thing in the morn- ing to tell me about his troubles, and then I’ll give him the story.” At that moment the major’s bell rang. “There it is now,” said Grimesy. “Now for a tale of woe.” And Grimesy dashed off up stairs. When Grimesy entered the major’s room, that gentleman was sitting on the side of his bed, clad in his night clothes, the very picture of despair. “Well, my boy,” began the major, dole- fully, “I’ve had a terrible time to-night, terrible! I wouldn’t go through it again for a thousand dollars!” “Why, what's the matter; did the dog give you trouble?” “No, but the brute at that house did.” a you see Miss Highsee?” “Of course, you didn’t leave the dog there?” said Grimesy, innocently. “T’m sorry to say that I did,” groaned the major. “Well, I’m sorry you did, for it now turns out that the dog didn’t belong to Miss Highsee.” “Thunderation!” exclaimed the major. “Who does it belong to?” “Caleb Hummel.” “How do you know?” “Why, he was in the office inquiring for his dog a little while after you went away.” “Great Scott! What did he say?” “Said he knew you had the dog, and that if it wasn’t delivered to him by nine in the mofning he’d make sausage meat of.you.” “Great Cesar! And@he’ll .do it, too!” groaned the major. “He’s just that kind of aman. He’d think no more of killing aman than eating his breakfast. What shall we do, my boy?” “Give him his dog.” “How can I?” “Go round and get it, of course. Tell those folks you made a mistake, that the dog don’t belong to Miss Highsee.” “TL can’t do that, my boy.” “Why not?” asked Grimesy. “Why, the old brute who lives there tried to shoot me to-night, and I believe he will doit if I go back again!” “Is that so?” asked Grimesy, in mock surprise. “What did he want to shoot you for?” “Well, it was like this: I went in there and asked for Miss Highsee, They said GrooDp she was out but would be back soon. There were a couple of silly girls there, and to pass the time I got to chatting with them, just as a fellow will, when all of a sudden their father, a regular old ruffian, rushed in with a gun and tried to shoot me!” “You don’t say so!” said Grimesy. “Say, major, you didn’t try to kiss ’em, or anything, did you?” “No-oo, How can you asie such a ques- tion?” “T didn’t s’pose you did, of course, ma- jor dear; but it seemed so strange that the old fellow should just rush in with- out any provocation, and try to shoot ou.” we Because he’s an old ruffian, that’s all.” “He missed you though, or wouldn’t his gun go off?” asked Grimesy. “Oh, I didn’t wait to see, I left—had to jump through the window at that.” “Gracious! Hurt the window?” “Hang the window!” roared the major. “T believe I did smash it, but that doesn’t concern me so much as my clothes and my skin. They suffered severely by the operation.” “That’s too bad, major dear. You don’t know how sorry lam. And to save you any more trouble and pain, I’ll go round there in the morning and get the dog and take it to Hummel myself.” “No, no, my boy,” cried the major, feel- ingly. “I couldn’t think of allowing you to risk your young and innocent life in such a reckless way.” “Please let me go, major dear,” pleaded Grimesy. “They wouldn’t hurt a little boy like me.” “What should Ido if they should kill you, my boy?” “Oh, but I know they won’t. let me do this for you.” “Well, if you insist upon it, my boy,” said the major, his eyes growing moist. “Oh, my boy, you’re such a treasure. I do not know what I should do, if it were not for you to help me out of my difficul- ties.” “It makes me feel so good to think that I can help you out of some of your trouble, for you have so much,” said Grimesy, wiping his eyes. “Yes, my boy, I’m sorely afflicted. I guess I’ll retire now.” “Yes, you look weary; you’d better go to bed,” said Grimesy, arranging the covers and dropping a handful of short hair between the sheets “There, now, let me cover you up nice and snug.” The hair which Grimesy scattered in the bed consisted of bristles from an old brush cut about a quarter of an inch long, and the reader can imagine the sensation of having them in contact with the skin, “Thank you, my boy,” said the major. “Good-night.” “Good-night, sir,” said Grimesy, and started out. “Grimesy,” called the major, squirming about in bed. “ Sir. ” “Grimesy, there’s something in this bed that pricks my legs—feels like a mil- lion fine needles.” “Sheet. hasn’t been well reckon,” said Grimesy. “T don’t know what it is, but I know it’s mighty disagreeable,” roared the ma- jor. “I wish you’d send the chamber- maid up, my boy.” “All right, sir.” ished. When he had sent the chambermaid up to the major’s room, he returned to the office to give Jags, who was to await him there, an account of his interview with the major. " Well, Grimesy,” said Jags, as soon as that innocent young man entered the office, “how does the old major feel after his adventure?” “Decidedly rocky, I should say. But I ot him to bed finally, though I'm afraid e won’t sleep well.’ “ Why?” “Oh, he complained of something prick- ing him. Said it felt as if a million fine needles were sticking in him.” “Ha! ha! Some o’ your work, you rogue !” “No. I only cre about a pint of short hairs into the sheets, that’s all; an ait ate “You did, did you?” Grimesy and Jags both jumped six feet at the sound of the voice, which was im- mediately behind them, and _ looking around they beheld, to their horror, the major! “So! You are at the bottom of all this deviltry, are you?” The major was livid with rage. Grimesy and Jags were silent. They knew their doom had arrived, and that this was their last joke. “So you are into it, too, you weak- eyed, small-voiced paste-board pattern of a man!” he roared, glaring at Jags. “Now, you two villains, just see how quick you can pack your collar-boxes and get out, or I’ll put some capersauce over you and make a meal of you!” Please ironed, I And Grimesy van- They waited for no second bidding, and | been men famous for their fine work, In discovering Mrs. NEW Ss. with sad hearts and rueful faces they went away. [THE END.] What Shall Our Boys Do? eat BY CHARLES BARNARD. No. 12.—The Painter. wo oO Pe F all the trades, painting seems one G2) of the most simple and easy. To dip a brush in a paint-pot, and rey 4 ~ then to spread the paint over woodwork, does not demand much skill; and many a boy, looking about for some- | thing to do, thinks he would like that | business. The pay is good, and in some branches of the trade it is very good, in- deed. The boy finds a painter who is willing to take him as a helper, and put- ting on his white overalls, he goes to work—grinding paints. This is not what he expected, and the stone is heavy, and the paint is sticky and disagreeable. Or, perhaps, he mixes the oils and ground paints, or carries the paint-pots for the men, or cleans the brushes, or does other odd jobs. If he gets a chance to paint, he finds the brushes are heavy and sticky, and his employer growls because he wastes the paint. The boy tries this for a few days or weeks, and then concludes that he was born for a store-keeper, and he takes off his paint-stained overalls and looks out for a place in a shop. Now such a boy is not exactly a fool, but he is hardly wise. He deserts a good and steady trade for a crowded and com- paratively precarious and risky business. He begins at the bottom of the ladder, and because the first step does not take him very far, and is rather disagreeable, he concludes he won’t try to get any higher, and he gives up a good ladder, and takes to a path that is easy, but that does not lead to anything in particular. We may as well get rid of the idea first as last that any trade is poor or unprofit- able. It isnot the trade, but the man, Any and every trade is a good one for the man who knows how to work init. On looking about the country we find that painters earn from $1.50 to $2 a day. The men who get these wages are simply house or ship painters, men who can han- dle a brush quickly and easily, and who can cover a large piece of woodwork with paint in a day. They work on ladders and on stages suspended from the sides of | houses or ships, or they paint the inside walls of houses and shops. They learned all they know about the business in a few months, and they earn very fair wages for the work. The work is simple | and much the same day after day from one year to. another. it we look about among the men in the trade we find many | are out of work, and that the business is | very much crowded. Now why is it that | these men get so little pay and so many | of them-are idle? It does not look like a/| good trade for a boy to try, and, perhaps, the boy who did try and gave it up was wise after all. The fact is, these men are all on the bottom round of the ladder. There’s room enough up higher. Fresco-painters get from $3aday up to $5. Sign-painters as much, or more; ornamental painters get as much; and all of them find the trade a great deal more lively than when they were house-painters. Some painters get $10,000 for a piece of work two feet square. Oh! but these men are artists. Exactly. And so is a house-painter. Painting is really an art, and, if these men make it a trade and find it hard work to earn $1.50 a day, it is because they are unwilling or unable to do any- thing but spread paint over boards. They know the names of some of the colors they use, and they can spread the paint smoothly and evenly. Ask them to find the complementary color of red, or the contrasted color of green, or ask them to decide on a good color for a house in the | woods or by the sea-shore, and they can- | not tell, or they will say that white walls | and green blinds make the correct thing fora wooden house. These men are on the bottom round of the ladder. If they knew more about their art, if they had | more skill, they would go up higher and | earn better wages. | Painting is an art that any boy who has a taste for it may take up with con- fidence. He may feel sure he can find | plenty of work and good wages, if he goes high enough. If he tries it, and nds that he cannot do anything more | than plain house-painting, it is better to | gite it up and try something else. For a! boy who means to get ahead, the thing to do is, first of all, to study drawing and the science of colors. Success as a painter in any branch, sign-painting, decorating, fresco-painting, and in the higher branches of the art, depends entirely upon skill in drawing and a good eye for colors. In sign-painting there is a great chance for skill, and some sign-painters have |as a music-teacher, and in | ing if they have a talent for |ing individual talent. | painting. 'a famous workman, an | large and prosperous shop; pusid | line of business. s a". ‘trip through Venezuela, # 4 | packed in a coffin for traDsP | taken aboard the Russian | Paregorikoff family unde” | the lid off while Mrs. Grees ‘ing that Mrs. | whiskers and a mustac fresco-painting and in ornamental a there is room for first-rate mes a pay ranges from $3 a day, some the as $10 a day. There is no limit van in painting. From house-palt may go on to ornamental WO a painting, and picture-painting, find is the highest work we can + pa Bp) Ut wit} where, and it brings the higher att Yonths the world, except the pay 2 t By is aoe music. ides! ga A great many people have an ink bil the trades do not pay. The t paves should go into a store. * pink what a mistake that is. TO tore3? every boy will make a good § a taste isa blunder. One must have oii liking for trading, buying, 2%© yo as much as a taste for paintl 1 sens who had a poor ear or & GW aig music would think of setting hi sthou into a store, as so many 40, with? is quite as stupid and silly. poy, De ofter far more chances ion for de% gate . > f« 1 att Pk there are more opportunl ake the It has six distin ! i > £ 7 a eeu and in any one a boy m y Zara e wages; or he may become, Mig It i ital, - does not require much ¢@Pi tig does require skill and, eduet ie work is comparatively lights eter: rises to a first-class position ie 1 sure of a safe business, and all sensible people. 4 bh, ing * THE GREGG-McDUFFY — BY MAX ADELEB. en Sy AM afraid the case of Fay tts i if Gregg now pending 12 wot! fully understood by the ¢ facts are these: Mrs. Pandora McDuffy, mother-in-law, went to Ve in years ago, to look after some per which had been owned Shere she ot husband. While she was oe iP E and her body was prepare th ga? af the United States. About jad Admiral Paregorikoff, of th Pacific Squadron, also Ae . q detog i 1. eguel®s Unhappily the coffins oi other closely, and, as they ed wharf together, it so bapPsi a McDuffy’s body was place”. was received with the 7 theta Meantime, nobody discovery pares and the remains es Aa 0 Ms were shipped by steam” Gas achankst Grade: of Baltimr al tio HS Poor Mrs. McDuffy ag capt a F on the Russian frigate. two pour r salute of five guns every wor ay the entire voyage; all th mast; the officers could tions for crying, and t 000 cubic feet of wind or choly dirges over the CO" 4g When the vessel reac there was a turn-out a the Ja princes and so forth, a2 a 20 Duffy was taken away 10.) cher by a funeral process! take ten thousand dollars. The other coffin wen When it reached Gregs «oot 10% of t dire! b aff "g nore 4 wee a. . H \f phir ot Oy and his aunt stood i eats first feeling was one of # McDufy, ad wile id she yo Venezuela. His aunt 5% nose was remarkably Te° perate woman, an y ‘ that she never before mn rowe 4, On Bre, Mrs. McDufty’s left eve?> ine } 4d A However, they replace 5 spin terred the corpse in GT family vault at the matte? rested. ; One day, severa eal frigate sailed up the Cheseh tie a squad of ten sailors “motel? iba ; marched out to the ae jo VOUe the ath i undermined Gregg’s ™ cofs2, A ib” Baty oN, tte to splinters, seized they, oars}? 4f be Sy” posed Mrs. MeDuffy, ®” 0) al, the frigate. In consequence months akes his of t a lomatic corresponden¢ plained the matter, : over to Russia to ¢° ail I, that despotic gover? i pares? pe pe the fumily of Admire eDufly ue GOooD NEWS. cil prnamental, wy te men, * if y some f ) limit to thet ise-paintine work, hi 80 ; f s a inting, and th Much enraged that they pitched her | had ample eee to “smell pow- e can nd Rely « Minto the Neva. She floated | der;” but shortly after the occupation of highest my My Nt with the tide, and spent the next New Orleans he was sent on the small yy in Dey, +. TUising about in the Gulf of | Steamer Commodore, where he performed sed eR an off, occasionally, into the | Such “pte as ee Soley, above 1 Hy” Vac , ae Poe '| quoted, writes about. ave an. 4nd Cattev: f bi f eo ? iis obi "he think and then eee ~~ a ae BPs lo a young fellow ambitious to distin- ’ fle age Ss enmark, anda] wise, : "2 ; raa ¢ , ing “¢ “y e me wand Norway in Seca eae guish himself it was anything rather To thin, inally th; she eee °ithan pleasant labor; but an “ordinary ood store: ythe captain of a Copen-| seaman” has no choice in such matters, ; have # 2 ‘ } ing, aD Sank her in 800 fathoms of int a : d pene putin a claim against the ; “hich Roument for $200,000 damages, di Me by Pe responded with a bill of do, W} thy go esportation of Mrs. McDuffy, ny @ erg... L° ne band, for eight tons of 1Lsy« Of in saluting her, and for r oe Bay 4g *Penses generally. Grego then ‘ties Me, he Matter ° nae 58 : Take ‘Udy tte er into Congress, and his ligtine Monine vsbing through a resolution y gro i fy *$ the State Department to pre- ( earn iene 8 alternatives to the Rus- me the Ri ent: p, Bean government to drag the | a Uf tog ith stappling-irons for the pur- ication Mecting the original Mrs. Mc- and, ; ny il Some respectable Russian ne th Vand ship the body, at the ex- pay Baltimore. Ort fight 202000 damages. Ne: " * that i. Statesmen in W: ushington be- Ras 2 bs 8 ove _ that event, a war with LER. hind ames Buchanan Gregg’s will any be regarded as certain. 3 Boe tte 2 Id Grege to be a dangerous Fam res 8p sets angry. If we win in the n CoDer Mi, -P°Ses to make peace only on ounlt! tig “Bat the C : I : he ¢ and dix’ Czar himself shall go out Mer Wve for Mrs. McDuffy. ty, ia, ny ele, —>— Veen 00 Ly ; in dig oo ome Me ie | OF HONOR—No.6. ; sh aii g thet pnt ja YS y d for ape dr H ~ A of ICTOE h tp ssild I ». 16 : ! wi Bs, Relig ies pis poll Ratna, ana immediately after the first : rtatio? ile to Shonia os Proposed that a certain dis- psp? pied } frytitheg th 2© given to soldiers who particu- | rese!? po! ait cag Bemasel ves for bravery, the same MOD reg ‘aptured in battle, and from Jay aye veg SUteq , re fiir reine J ii the resolutic 0 c eSS ey 4 th tend, July 3: I lution of Congress, ened sig ett ie in one 1862. On March 3, 1863, the Ps ip aD Atv Inelide €r that oflicers and men of the Frigates “yal Rutetg on Hy aN the United States had rl ey “ e avery, not of money, but a finest tag fe Warsct this Roll of Honor has been tbe Nan.” bravest “partment, and to each name, ered ef h thy . Dorin Of our brave, but a single line i al Pat wh OW Teeonds K the past two years the com- pit @ 0 b ay Sf meg t® used every effort to gain ck pow talk Were wos an account| of the actions real iy: Baye 2s, 8nd the result is that the mo iP ®all the denen told by those who ‘ tails, fe cttaite A brave Seaman. a .* ded y Wey C Oa, : dunded soldiers when ot to be deserted by y Officers. 0 3 mu his Own story. Bary H Compiled SEAWARD. — snd Leaders of the Civil 8) 2 7 aa Soe fished her out, tied an anvil |}and he remained with as much patience |as possbile cruising around the lakes, where there was plenty of hard work and very little opportunity for glory. More than once did he complain of the iil fortune which was his in being on board a craft where no fighting could be expected, rather than with acquaintances who were winning honors annie the gal- lant Farragut, or other distinguished commanders. On the Z0th of November, 1863, the lit- tle steamer was ordered to carry colored troops to Ship Island Sound, that they might aid in destroying salt works there, and, as a matter of course, Seaward was among the crew. | landed on the coast, the steamer running | close to the bank, which was about ten | feet above the water line. | It was well known that a small body |of Confederates was in the immediate vicinity, and skirmishers were sent out to guard against a surprise while the work of destruction was going on. Directly in front of that portion of the j}about an hunderd yards away, stood a pa A el ee mt Hil peep Mm f Le —— Le SEAWARD DRAGGED THE WOUNDED small house, which, at the time of} land- | ing, had appeared to be deserted. leas Soley concludes an With gnetly Operations in | 1e¢ following words: this Quarter during the re- % Sisted chietly ; boat e ttaonee blockade-funners or | ® con kS upon guerrillas in the | lrg St, raids upon salt works, | Sof like character.” ssi e™mstances it would | of 6 there could be any | : Sings a eee shown by the | 6 in the excitement of | herves soldiers or | Hey might otherwise | king ; but yet in one] airs” was performed | to call from the com- 4g the squadron the x- | bg th hin fy ace eis as hdj . ter Pm 0. g es ©. t Ni Won New Opoor PENSACOLA, ’ Mo Neste an cEANs, La., Nov. 24, 1863. Ace polnted an : “le United st ) the 4 Navy, ‘iene of it ve cal “ of yrag? on + nol ff ch Acting Master's ates on tempo- approval of the Honor- This appointment is wr eCover 7 of your good conduct | White 2 hag the bodies of your com- Yon?! ON Were Ce” Shot down by the | ang. lexeont yourself exposed to a | , *8ng Oge iY the prescribed oath | - IE to meé with your letter | H. BELL eC H. PAW A™MAnding W.G. Squadron, | gs» UL 8. Steamer Commodore, ard wa, | t 15, Ing enty-one years of | a8 as G1), he enlisted in ‘Signed to the Sloop- » ON which vessel he ou oer ' MD [x's if ‘ot t. iO 1 pa De y ; Th, ton i . ho ace a. We ho Toward this point a white officer led twenty or thirty colored men with the intention of burning the building. Not fancying it might be occupied, the soldiers advanced carelessly, and when a trifle more than half the distance had been traversed three forms clad _ in womens’ garments appeared at one of the windows. While this excited some surprise it did not cause any suspicion that an attack might be expected, and the officer led his soldiers on until they were within forty feet of the house, when one of the party cried : “They are men! Look! Quick!” The words had but just been uttered when a dozen rifle barrels were seen pro- truding from the aperture, the men in disguise drew revolvers, and a murderous volley was poured into the little band. Thanks to the fact that those in the room, being behind the three at the win- dow, had no opportunity to take careful |aim, only two of the bullets did any exe- | cution. One of the soldiers was killed outright, another was wounded so se-|} verely that he could not rise to his feet, and the officer in command had his coat cut in several places. Unfortunately he who should have led his men on to an assault was injured far more in mind than in costume. The whistling of the bullets had deprived him |of every grain of courage, if, indeed, he ever had any, and in a voice trembling with fear he gave the order to retreat to the steamer, showing the way himself, as if afraid of being left behind. It could not be expected that the sol- | On the following day the soldiers were | ne team TT SOLDIER BULLETS FROM EVERY DIRECTION. | bank, S81 | diers would show any very great amount of courage when the leader evinced so much terror, and they fled at the best possible pace to the levee, making no effort to bring away their dead and wounded companions. Without loss of time all hands scram- | bled over the bank, and word had been | given to recall the skirmishers, when Sea- ward asked, as he pointed to where the soldier lay crying for help: | “Are you going to leave that poor fel- low there without so much as trying to help him?” There was no reply. Seaward clambered up on the levee, and there urged some of the men to follow him; but without success. Not one of them moved, and the valiant officer, who | was now in a place of comparative safety, | seemed only eager to get away from that | disagreeable locality. In the mind of this seaman there was | only one thought, and that as to how he ;could rescue the poor fellow who was | pleading so pitifully for aid. No one offered to help the brave fellow, and without further parley he started ‘across that bullet-swept space, thinking not of his own life; but intent on giving | assistance to him whose blood was satu- | rating the earth. ; Among all who remained at the levee, | and those who, in response to the signals, were arriving each moment, not a single person advanced to accompany him, and alone, with only his own ideas of honor Ussians will refuse to give levee where the boat was stationed, and and the demands of his country to quicken i his steps, he went. OVER THE SAND AMID A SHOWER OF From the building the Confederates fired again and again as, under similar circumstances, the Federals would have done; but the advance was not checked. It is not to be supposed that he walked at a leisurely pace. Running at the ut- most speed, and turning aside now and then in the hope of escaping the many bullets sent to cut him down, he contin- ued on until the wounded man was reached. To raise him bodily was impossible, and Seaward could do no more than drag him as swiftly as possible over the sand with the rifle balls coming, apparently, from every direction, until he reached the at the foot of which was the steamer and the cowardly officer. Thus far he had escaped injury, and_ it would have been none the less to his credit if the lifeless body had remained where the spirit fled; but in his eyes the garb of blue called for a yet further dis- play of valor. There was no thought as to the color of the skin; it was a human being in the Federal uniform who had been deserted by his comrades. The bullets were raising little puffs of dust everywhere around the inanimate form; but, with the courage of a true| hero, he went back once more where | death lurked, in the brave endeavor to save the clay, if nothing more, of him who | had trusted in the honor of those who ordered the advance. In war a brave man is a fair target for | the enemy, however much courage may | be admired, and the shower of lead which followed told that every effort was being | made to cut him down. Fortunately for this ordinary seaman, RICHARD H. SEAWARD. whose courage should have put to shame he who wore epaulets, not one of the mis- siles of death struck the mark, and for | the second time the shore was reached in safety. | The living and the dead were within the lines of the army with which thcy had fought, and the sailor returned to his vessel as if nothing but an ordinary | act of duty had been performed. It was only an fieident arising from a “small affair ;” but from out of it a hero had sprung, a hero who, when his last hour shall come, and he feels above the feebly pulsating heart the eagle and star of the Medal of Honor, may think with pardonable pride of his services in his country’s defense, and bequeath to his children the almost priceless treasure which marks his rank among a nation's braves. DOWN THE SLOPE. A STORY OF THE MINES By JAMES OTIS, Author of ‘“‘The Tour of the Rambler’s Club,” “In the Bad Lands,” etc. eenpeigpcns (‘DOWN THE SLOPE” was commenced in No. 8 Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.]} CHAPTER XXXII. ACQUITTED. i mime, and rehearsed the scene every day for a week, he could no have ar- rived more precisely, than when he made his appearance at the very moment Mr. Hunter was about to declare the de- fense closed. Sam and Fred sprang to their feet as he entered the door, and Joe actually shouted, so great was his joy and relief; but be was speedily made to understand by the officers that another breach of de- Ow a F Skip had been an actor in a panto- oe | corum as flagrant would result in his expulsion from the court-room. Following Skip came the _ constable leading Tim, who looked frightened and pale. Mr. Hunter at once called the pris- oner to the witness stand. Not knowing that Gus had denied hav- | ing seen the money, Tim soon said enough to convict himself, and in a few moments was ready to confess his share in the mat- ter. “T didn’t take it,” he said, whiningly. “Gus showed me the money here in town an’ told as how he'd sneaked it out of the pocket of a feller what he found aslee on the mountain. He agreed that I coul have half if I’d go off somewhere with him.” “Where is he now?” Mr. Hunter asked. “T don’t know. When I went for some grub he was watchin’ Fred Byram what we caught followin’ us.” “What had been done with the money?” “He had all that was left but ten dol- lars, an’ I was goin’ to spend that.” “What had Fred Byram done to you?” “Tried to get the stuff, so’s his chum wouldn’t be sent to jail.” “How did he know you had the bills?” “That’s what puzzles me, ’less Gus give himself away to Skip Miller.” “Have you seen your friend since you left him to go in search of provisions?” “If I had he'd been used up pretty bad | for runnin’ off with the cash after coaxin’ me to leave town with him.” Very little more in the way of evidence was needed, and in a short time Sam was told by the judge that there was nothing to show he was at fault in the matter, except so far as being careless in lying down to sleep, while having such an amount of money in his pocket. With this slight reprimand he was dis- charged from custody, and Tim sent to jail. When the partners were in the street 38a GroOoOD NEWS. once more Joe found it almost impossible to keep his joy within bounds. He acted in the most extravagant manner until Fred reminded him that the people might think he was intoxicated. “We'll telegraph to Bill, anyhow,” he eried, and straightway the following message was sent: ‘“‘WILLIAM ‘l'HOMAS, Farley’s, Pa. “Skip Miller has fixed everything. Hurrah for Skip. Sam is free, JOE.” ’ “There,” he said, after writing the tele- gram, a task of no mean magnitude for him, “that puts the credit jest where it, belongs. I ain’t sayin’ the lawyer didn’t do his share; but he’d been snowed under if Tim hadn’t been brought in the nick of time.” Skip was. radiant with delight, as he had every reason to be, since now he felt certain his past misdeeds were atoned for, and the partners repeated over and over again that they owed him a debt which could never be repaid. Mr. Hunter insisted that the owners of the mine should. remain in Blacktown until he learned whether sufficient money could be raised with which to defend the suit brought against them; but Joe was bent on going to the depot for the pur- pose of witnessing Mr. Wright's depart- ure. “T want to see how he an’ his precious cashier look after failin’ in conyictin’ an innocent. boy of stealin’ what never oughter been put in his charge.” Fred did not care to indulge in such questionable triumph; but the minef was so persistent that he could not well re- | fuse, and the three stood on the platform when their accusers boarded the cars. Neither of the men glanced toward the | little group; but a bystander who had ! been present at the. trial, said loud enough to be heard by both: “It looks like pretty poor business for a big corporation to try to send a boy to jail in order that he may be robbed of his property.” “You're a sensible man,” Joe cried, ap- provingly, as he insisted on shaking hands with the stranger, “an’ if the time | ever comes when-me or my mate can do you a good turn we'll be glad.” After this the four walked to the hotel, for Skip was sadly in need of food, and Joe said, in a tone of satisfaction: “I’m willin’ to bet .considerable that when we get back to Farley’s we'll find as how Wright has gone. somewhere on business, an’ the cashier is takin’ a cation. Bill will show my telegraph to everybody what comes in, and the whole town will be agin ’em.” “Tf the company wins the suit, Mr. | Wright won’t care very much about what is said, for with two mines he will be the boss of this section,” Sam replied. “I don’t. bother with anything -at Farley’s jest now; the company can run matters to please themselves, if they fail to cheat us out of our property.” Now that one cause for anxiety was re- moved the partners devoted more time to discussing the question of title, and be- fore night-fall had succeeded in making themselves feel decidedly uncomfortable. During the evening Mr. Hunter called with cheering news, “Among the subscribers I have found four gentlemen of means, who will ad- vance the funds necessary for defending the suit, provided they are allowed a cer- tain additional amount of stock in case of. success. The four owners of the prop- erty must sign an agreement to that effect, and the business is settled.” “How will that affect our interest?” Fred asked. “IT think an equitable arrangement would be to give you jointly one half the amount of stock issued,:and with the re- mainder there will be no difficulty in raising sufficient to open and operate the mine.” “Ts that a fair. division? very little about such things.” “Tf there had been no trouble your share would.be larger; but, under the cir- cumstances, I think the proposition: a generous one.” ; ; “Then we are satisfied,” Joe: replied, “Bring on your documents so we can sign ?em, for I want to get back to-morrow.” “T will write the argeement, and go to Farley’s. with you on the first. train. Money for your personal expenses is to be advanced, and here is an_ installment. When it is gone come to me for more.” “A hundred dollars!” Joe exclaimed, as he counted the bills. “We can’t complain but that your subscribers are doing the thing in: good style.” “So they should, since a large. amount of money is to be made, if we are success- ful with the suit.” Then Mr. Hunter left the partners, and Skip, who was already looked upon as a member of the new company, and they found ample material for conversation until it was time to retire. Next. morning the party started for Farley's in company with the lawyer and one of the gentlemen who proposed to ad- yance the capital. There were only a few people at the We know TR-" | { depot; but from them Sam received a most cordial welcome. Men whom he had never spoken to before congratulated him upon the happy result of the trial, ‘and many were the harsh words spoken against the superintendent and cashier, After he ran home to see his mother for a moment the four partners assembled in | Bill’s chamber, and there the necessary documents. were drawn. up. “T have already applied. for a charter,” 'Mr. Hunter said, when all had signed, “and it only remains to win the case~ be- fore opening the mine.” plied in the affirmative, when he and the prospective stockholder took their de- parture, leaving the boys and Joe to gratify the invalid’s curiosity concerning the happenings at Blacktown. On this day Fred saw Chunky for the first time since the discovery of the vein, and the breaker. boy expressed_ his satis- | | for there’s no_ tellin’ when faction at the result of the trial. “IT knowed Sam wouldn’t steal money,” he said, emphatically; “but it looked one spell as if they’d prove it on him.” “Tf it hadn’t never would have been made so plain, and even if he was acquitted, some folks , might have thought him guilty.” ' “Yes, Skip did a good job there,’ Chunky said, reflectively. “It’s funny he made such great friends with you fellers | after bein’ so wild to serve you out. He’s left the regulators, too, an’ now I can be captain, if [ want to.” “Why, I thought that foolish business had all been done away with,” “Not much it ain’t. We can get along without Skip, an’ not half try.” “Don’t have anything to do with such fellows, Chunky. You'll only get into | trouble, and the time is sure to come when, like Skip, you’ll be sorry for ever having had any connection with them.” “He didn’t run the concern same’s I’m goin’ to do, if I get to be captain,” Chunky replied, with a mysterious ges- ture, and then he hurried away in the direction of the breaker. During the week which followed Sam’s ; acquittal nothing of especial interest oc- ‘curred. Bill was getting along as well as could have been expected; but both he !and his partners were decidedly dejected as to the result of Mr. Wright’s claim. As the days passed they grew more de- spondent, until Mrs. Byram insisted that nothing more be said about the suit in the presence of the invalid, because his , extreme nervousness tended toexcite fever. | | ‘hen came the day on which a telegram was received from Mr. Hunter, requesting one or more of the partners to call at his office, and Joe and Fred made ready to answer the summons. “Don’t keep me waiting for the news,” Bill said, sharply, “I can’t help- thinkin’ | Wright will spring some kind of a game on us, if he thinks there’s any chance this scheme might fail.” “Tf we’re wanted on that business you | Shall hear the minute we know about it,” Joe replied, and then he and Fred started, | preferring to walk rather than wait for the train. Contrary to Brace’s belief, both Mr. | Wright and the cashier had remained . at | Farley’s after the trial. It is possible | they heard a few unwelcome truths; but, | as a rule, those who were forced to work ;under them did not dare to speak too | plainly. | Neither Joe nor Fred had seen the gen- | tlemen since they sekped on board the cars at Blacktown; but now they were | met face to face when the travelers ar- rived at the out-cropping vein. The superintendent nodded carelessly, much as he would have done toward a stranger,. while his companion delib- erately turned his back upon the new- comers. Joe whistled as he passed on, to show how little concern he felt at meeting the two whom he considered enemies; but he whispered to Fred when they were far- ther down the mountain: “I want to know what them fellers. are doin’ out here. It looks as if some crooked work was goin’ on.” “They can’t run away with the vein,” Fred replied, laughingly, “and I don’t see how their being in this vicinity can hurt us. “Nor I; but. it won’t do any harm to watch ’em. They’re none too honest to play any kind of a mean trick.” “Tt’s too late to turn now, for they’d surely know what we were up to.” : “We can keep ona little farther, an’ then double back under cover of the trees.” “All right, I don’t suppose it will make much difference, if we loaf a bit.” Joe walked straight ahead until they were within shelter of a line of foliage, and then turning sharply to the left, circled around the side of the mountain to a point just above the vein, where the two: men could. be plainly seen, while the watchers, were hidden among. the bushes. Mr, Wright and the cashier at. first sight appeared to be walking aimlessly “You'll keep us posted about what is | goin’ on?” Bill asked, and the lawyer re- | een for Skip. matters | nearly breathless when they neared the | to and fro, as if calculating the width of the coal mine, ani now and then the for- mer stooped to pull up a stake, which he placed in another position. “It looks as if they was figgerin’ how wide the slope would have to be,” Joe whispered. “I reckon we’ve wasted our time sneakin” over here.” “They are moving the stakes driven by the surveyors!” Fred exclaimed, after a brief pause. “But what good will that do ’em?” “TI don’t know; of course, the lines can be run again by any one; but there must be a scheme. in it, for My. wouldn’t be out here unless something could be gained by it.” “They’ve got no right on our land, an’ I’ll.warn them off,” Joe said, as he arose excitedly to his feet. “Don’t so much .as_ show yourself. We’ll hurry on to see Mr. Hunter; he’ll know what is up.” “Come on, then, an’ be quick about it, these tricks are dangerous.” The miner and the boy literally ran down the hill, slackening not the pace until foreed to do so, and both were lawyer’s office. Before Mr. Hunter could speak Joe told what had been seen, and that gentleman | grew quite as excited as were the others. “I learned yesterday that Wright had bought a strip of land near yours, regard- less of the fact that he claims to own! this.side of the mountain, and has or- dered a force of workmen there immedi- ately. We now know he is changing the surveyor’s stakes in order to erect build- ings on our tract, and thus force us to be- come plaintiffs instead of defendants.” “How would that benefit him?’ “In several ways which I have not time to explain. Wait here until [ return.” Then Mr. Hunter left the office in great haste, and Fred and Joe looked at each other in dismay. CHAPTER XXXIII. VICTORIOUS. SD HE lawyer did not return for sev- ik eral hours, and then he said: A * “T have sent for surveyors, and > we will run our own lines early to- morrow morning, after which an officer shall. be stationed there to warn him from encroaching. You must be on the spot as early as possible to attend to mat- ters.” “He'll find us when the gun comes up. Was this why you sent the’telegram?” “I wanted to discover what he meant by the hiring of carpenters and the order- ing of lumber; but that you have already done.” “When will the case be tried?” “Next week I think; but that is of minor importance just now. The sup- posed location of the purchase is to be pointed out to the surveyors, therefore one of you must remain here until they arrive.” “When do you expect them?” “On the first train to-morrow.” “Fred can wait for ’em, an’ I’ll leave in time to get there by daylight.” “Very well; make your preparations to stay until I send word that it longer necessary.” Joe and Fred left the office to purchase such provisions as might be needed while holding possession of the disputed prop- erty, ana when this had been done the question arose as to how word could be sent to Bill. “The story is too long for a telegram,” Fred said, “so suppose we say by wire that there is nothing particularly new, and write a letter?” “Go ahead. LI ain’t much of a fist with a pen, so while you’re tellin’ the yarn I’ll send the message.” Joe retired early in order to be in readi- ness for the journey, and Fred was not awake when, shortly after midnight, he slipped out of the house. It was not an easy matter to find his way in the darkness; but he finally suc- ceeded after straying from the right course several times, and was thoroughly astonished at finding half a dozen men already in possession. A small amount of lumber was scat- tered here and there; as if placed in readiness to be used, and a temporary camp had been erected close beside the coal vein. The men had but just awakened when he arrived, and in reply to his angry question of why they were there, one of them asked impudently: “What business is it of yours?” “T happen to own a quarter of this land, an’ it’ll be hot for all hands if there’s any attempt at puttin’ up a build- ing. “Tt'll take us about two minutes to clean you out, an’ we'll do it, if you so much as yip again,” Joe was literally trembling with rage. He fancied. a portion of his title to the tract would be lost, if he did not drive Lt mt a9 Wright | : > ruins oe ‘remained perched on the rt per is no; | the intruders away, and be F Ky spokesman had time to defen against an attack, the miner dit ;him headlong with one We, blow. Then, picking lay near by, he made suc slaught upon the remainder | that they scattered in every Instead of following, he eternal _ tore at the camp until it was sid | and then destroyed all the pror g |had contained, in addition in into shapeless masses the ¥ | ' utensils, ! By this time the carpenters scattered forces togethel, Sige | marching in a body againsb 0 a had put them to flight. | f the ( In the immediate vicinity % tools, were stored nearly all 6 © ted a | standing over these, Joe shou, jill “As true as my names ee git | the first man who comes head: 3 | brandished the ax above bis one ° | “Don't be a fool!” SOME gas “What can you do against He Sra “Split open the head of ? 0b. comes within strikin’ dista® ya that has been done you mg 7 get the best of me; but one! ie Sty: i | down—which shall it be? to poe “oo av ' None of the party cared hey fell ° truth of Joe’s threat, and, an Om a short distance, giving him ind th aa nity to intrench himself *bebl A 1 ments of the camp. ather ae x The miner took care to £4 +: be eae ‘around him so they could nop ; case a sudden rush was a he ri as he afterward said, “rea of | to the trespassers. itio Matters: Weta in this cont Fred and the surveyors 217! ate oe The carpenters “were 5€ ile E ground a short distance aways + they 00>" calmly smoking his PpIP@* 435, ; for any attack, however sudder cell Bs “Go back to Blacktow2s “y phe Ms eS lawyer to send some officel®s county cried. “These beauties ae yyy buildin’ a house right heres ade. ‘em off till they can be arte, “Oh, yes you will,” one shouted. “Wait till the (0% from Farley’s, an’ then W runs this place.” Joe brandished his aX; of what he was prepa ‘ent to Fred, who stood Mm ment a few paces way: | “Hurry on, lad, there lost !” This roused Fred_ to necessity for immediate started off at full speed. ui The surveyors, thinking | in that they were not inclu corm an tilities, made ready to perngagee ng A for which they had beet V2 cof oe sooner were the instrume? | the carpenters made erying: 10 ay cou Sima “Tf we have to lay sti 1a i : but won’t put ours” af “Then I can’t count oP “Not at all; it oe for us to be involve * ob ye buy a good revolver, thouk on we - cheep and take my pay t oa , Blacktown.” » Joe & oe “ow ’ at er ote W e You’re a_ brick the shoe ite if one ail ,* oil at ly ont the asticallya “Give me cuitantes to pay any pr vere eh The weapon was ti w Dn, miner left his fortific@ he |, rectly toward the enemy: hat, “I give you a fair war eve Lon he said, leveling the “ery it t, my land, an’ I order tte : These surveyors are } aes >» and for my partners an Mal Of ¢) interferes with ’e y you gy me ain’t talkin’ foolish, qeten dg i lite, law will uphold me J? addedy, 4 ih a Now begin the job, M1 see we ; veying party, “an’ WE; fou, gana , sto at en have trouble. unde Ket er; This argument was , they ote Od ¢} Wright's adherents, 4), the Dte respectful distance, W «h0 ; be their work. - ¢ up ©. t 8? fee New stakes were S€ in pos c gard to those alrea@y x labor had but just “eo two the the superintendent, # ‘ ad | his company arrive™ | work Nee “Why are you not oe Wh re one of the carpenters: ted of wet 7 ted For reply the man J joe Abs °° who was pacing to b (( the Oly believed to be the na ’s hoe! property. 8 oe Get ‘Those timbers UP ho » cried, angrily, .. ys ee L a Who dares so much as raise a joist for Y other purpose, shall suffer!” Joe shouted. «Knock that fellow down. What busi- + he jer 0 at as he here?” and the superintend- ary d b : ag Voice trembled with suppressed he ¢ «ts vie was yo Mm where I belong, an’ seein’s how Mf men don’t dare do the knockin’ do ion 10 Fie i, S’pose you take a hand at it.” the 2” 7 the «, right advanced as if to act upon oe imag pesestion ; but before he reached the yenters er “ Mary line the miner shouted : her, "a Shoot? put a foot on this land [Pll nst the ™ 9 4 at Send your crowd home, and then YOU want to tackle me I’ll throw the ity of ie os "Yolver down, an’ meet you half way.” the 10% 2 ‘ © Superintendent paid no attention to shouted k of remark, save to halt on the safe side rg Brace 5 ait fey © danger line, where he whispered a nes ner A lat, Words to one of his men, and the . his hem a a, Started at full speed for Farley’s. ome eCie te. PeCkon my jig is about up,” Joe mut- ak the cro Le kere O himself. “He’s sent for help, f the > Je thor ey're bound to bring what'll be of distane® : © Service than this revolver.” | u may Mag ut Veyors, evidently believing there | t, one 18 Sta, -2 ©Special reason why they should : » Row matters were nearing a crisis, Once 5 €ir departure, and the miner was 2 Hore left; alone to defend his rights. : Among utes later Fred appeared from pe AY Min, he trees, followed by five deter- OOking men, and Joe’s cheers were 5 gath View Nded when Mr. Hunter came in d nob , | made Ming: lawyer shook hands with the ead “yo a8 he said: 4 st a ve saved us what might have S ond ably] bad mess. Now we have a reason- arrived Ay jy TBE force, and can hold out until e seat nile y «avanetion is procured.” » aways of ee ta cet likley to get one soon?” e ruins pe The ‘ erk will bring it ina short time. vipe 3, Bee > the nPPlication has been granted, and ; suddey il Made oyclay is while the papers can be WD, “yee lee 5 R friceTS) mi , titoy 9 Blad of that, for Wright has sent 3 are oe Me Li, “ty help, an’ when it comes things ere, ae Pe MAAelY to be hot.” | arresté the ve long b, Unter now advanced and held a one of gig Shaya ersation with the superintend- 1€ crown stp “hig, » “'S friends, at the conclusion of en we 1 Mtagped pordered Joe to have the lumber i inti #) Nrey, to™ the tract staked out by the as me pl thie. ‘ed to at “si ' tinge is Work Fred assisted, while the 1 SCY Mero, C04 guard with his revolver to ; tie gk Wa any interference, and when the e's 10 hig ‘finished the former whispered of ' Di tener : a 8 oe ley scare you, Joe?” ne action A they tip. don’t mind owin’ to you that d. iteM Mot Was ub not. one in the gang knew cing qin the a Mid, arp pound to stick as long as ‘jude we tet e Ugh » =o big lot of bluff helped me pertor ods) MH ta it. | de engeee in ¥ wt be sutnter says that if the injunction ments oy ai "Pen ai ved on Mr. Wright before the - i) ad thay pork, it will be all right.” : as Ii oP Matter ngs ORLY thing he knows of to till, revit {i f at Wil] be yh” an Mh Ya rat) 4 enough. ope yi AS that trust to my fist than any an’ if ollie | tha tter 9 Was eyer written.” whole fy am Mine, me Fred succeeded in making eld? ed nt j Understand what kind of a “die he Mt p ’ Was they depended upon to NG, ow. ty the gs ox in & rand th. Uperintendent from trespass- g abow Wig, Made 1¢ explanation had but just ‘0 wet Wythe j “$8 Mr. Hunter’s clerk arrived of Py he, ™Portant document ny po Ptinn this: 1. ° - AE 00 t y Sat the S had been served on Mr. rselves q” afl aS @ patter was settled pecnnces- + on yor ns Matt if can lawyer said to Fred and Joe: too 8° yo lt yong wie home, and the next , SE pl Selly tight. | be for the trial. This move b b l I t's has : ~houg 15 > think as been a foolish one, and pay wh » prejudice his case,” «od, eae Joe rete ie eno0t CHARTER XXXIV. / preerel i THE NEW MINE. eH Unnee catiods = the jocessary to give the details omy: pi that ONS trial to establish the title wart vee Suit “Longe 2, tract of land known e TeV ope Tieme nits °° it ¢,,°2 8 Slope.” every sud 5 - woinattere © Say that all the claimants pere t0 phe EX, Bod Gee the exception of Bill r me. ab & tha of +), 42 Case was finally settled vy ge meen the defondanta will att gt woeat ep Jefendants. ,, for vain he tre literal) © sold the property to in defer {0 ih sWegtth, and. frightened into telling “ne ad 0 “oy a Bed although the company ve’ll 8&° for the land, no record or the same. °pinion of those as ; who aM pteq pee was that Mr. Wright while beca = play a desperate game, ertain use it was impossible to set uP fica (,Patties in the Recorder of ry in P ; to teul = fact, a very ugly rumor een. a th a immediately after the ~ and & ye ofa ;, ‘ect that a large sum of 1. kt oa hange “n Offered a clerk, if he t at wor aff xh. 00 a humber of figures on the rs. n dited enh the deed which pone RR ees hand ae Hbsonite: Ted, and Sam _ returned po nd © Walk fv ners of the valuable yy Me house “abi the depot to Mrs. ers ups ho Tejoice & regular ovation. d when it seemed cer- Would not benefit by the “ - S { You may drag them off; but the first | Tim was found; CGoonDpD NEWS. 3ss discovery, were apparently as well pleased as the partners’ warmest friends, and during the evening following the an- nouncement of the verdict, Farley’s was in a high state of excitement. Among the last who called to offer con- gratulations was Skip, and he said em- phatically as he and Fred stood by the side of Bill’s bed: “T’m as glad as 1f some of the luck was mine. You say I’ve squared accounts, an’ that’s enough to make me feel mighty rood. Of course, you'll have to hire S oaicantiseh: an’ I’d like a job at the new mine, ’cause it ain’t likely things here’ll be very pleasant for me.” for you, lad,” the old miner replied, as he took Skip’s hand in his, “Our mine won’t be open for two or three months, send you to school. When the store is you’re to go into it, an’ the day Skip Miller can take hold of the accounts he’s goin’ to have full charge.” The ex-captain of the regulators looked from one to the other in silence several seconds, and then he asked, in a_hesitat- ing way: “You ain’t makin’ fun of a feller, eh?” “Not a bit of it, lad, an’ if you run over to Blacktown to-morrow an’ ask Mr. Hunter he’ll show that the money has been paid for your schooling.” Skip did not trust himself to reply; but after shaking each of his friends by the hand, he*hurriedly left the house, and Chunky, who entered a few moments later, said to Fred: him jest now, an’ he was cryin’ reg’ lar told him the fellers had chose me for cap- tain.” Nothing was seen of either Mr. Wright or his cashier until nearly two weeks after the case had been ended, and then the former called at Mrs. Byram’s cot- tage to offer his “congratulations.” “Tt is not well that there should be any hard feelings between us since we are to be neighbors,” he said. “What I did was in the interests of the company which I have been impossible.” he was willing to be on apparently friendly terms with the superintendent, which was more than can be said of the elder partners. ; Bill bluntly told Mr. Wright what he thought of his conduct, and expressed the hope, in very plain words, that it would not be necessary for the new firm to have any business relations with the old company. Four months» later the Byram-Thorpe works were formally opened, with Bill as mine boss, Fred and Sam as super- intendents, and Joe in charge of the ship- ments. It must not be understood that the two boys were fully qualified for their re- sponsible positions; Bill and Joe acted as advisers, and if one year’s work is any criterion the quartette have administered the affairs most wisely, for in all the middle field there are no better or more contented miners than the Byram-Thorpe works. In one year Skip was pronounced com- petent to take full charge of the store, and to-day it would be difficult to select a fellow better liked than he. On the Blacktown side of the mountain every | one speaks of him in the most flattering terms, and at Farley’s he is held up to breaker boys as an example of how one may live down a bad reputation. Chunky still works under Donovan; he could not make up his mind to resign from the regulators, and to-day his record is by no means as good as jt should be. Neither Fred nor Sam cared to take him with them, for both knew by bitter ex- perience the aim of his association, and did not wish to introduce anything of the kind at the new mine. Gus Dobson was arrested about a month after Sam had been pronounced innocent, On running away from Mr. Wright’s house he hid in the woods near where but four weeks of this kind of a life was sufficient. He presented a most deplorable appear- ance when he returned home one morn- ing. His clothes were in tatters, the shoes | literally hanging from his feet, and the pangs of hunger printed on his face. Im- prisonment was a far less severe punish- ment than starvation, and, as he said, “Fred an’ me have figgered out a place | an’ durin’ that time the firm are goin’ to | opened—for, of course, we’ll need one— } “T reckon Skip wishes he was you. I met} tears, an wouldn’t stop to listen when [| represent, and any other course would | To this remark Fred made noreply; but! van be found at | siderably in excess of all. necessary ex- penses and, what is better yet, perfect content dwells with them. [THE END. | <--> EXCHANGE DEPARTMENT, ——e-- {ImporTANT.—This column is free to all our readers. We will not be responsible for transactions brought about through notices in this column. All offers must | be strictly exchange offers.. We will not. insert any | “for sale” advertisements, neither will we insert any exchanges of fire-arms, explosive, dangerous, or worth- less articles. When you ‘send us an exchange notice and it does not appearin areasonable time you will know thatit was not acceptable. Address all com- munications for this column to “Exchange Depart- ment.”] . eal Edgar Pilie, Jr., % Orleans St., New Orleans, La. | has a packet of 100 foreign stamps, no Zalike, including | xaxious countries, such as: Egypt, Finland, Mexico, | Peru, Cape of Good Hope, Ecuador, Porto Rico, Cuba, India, Russia, Jamaica, Victoria, Australia, and Lux- | embourg, also stamps from Asia, Africa, Europe, and West Indies. I will give the above named for a Goop News Binder, and package of binding-pins. Binder | must be new. DaCosta ‘Thompson, of 84 Garfield Place, Cincinnati, O., has the Goop News, from No. 1 to date, and several other weekly papers, to exchange for best offer. | z . 3 7 | Wm. Packard, Jr., Elmer, N. J., sixty rubber erasers, | large size, wholesale value $3.00; three finger rings, washed in gold, and a good printing outfit, to exchange for type-writer, or printing press and type. R. E. Smith, 303 2d St., Detroit, Mich., 100 different stamps for every 10 foreign coin or twenty pictures of actresses. | i | Would like to correspond with some one who wishes to trade or buy a sinall hand ink press with outfit, also | 5 Vols. of weekly papers. Address, C. H. Schimelfenig, % So. May Street, Chicago, Il. W. Perrin, 181 8S. High St., Columbus, O., has a Scott’s $1.50 International Stamp Album to exchange for best offer in cash or exchange. . H. Freudenfeld, Plankinton, bound books and novels, to exchange for books called “To ” “Ourse of Carew” or, “The Hidden H All letters answered | | S. Dak., has m Sawyer, and.” Write. Puck, Judge, Life, Yankee Blade, and many other — for numbers of the New York Weekly. B. towers, 285 23d St., Detroit, Mich. J.P. Stadtmueller, 224 West 110th street, New York city, will exchange one album for every set of type sent to him. Harry Smith, 94 East 224 St., Chicago, TL, has Goop News up to date, for best offer in reading matter. | All letters answered. | Fred Williams, 56 Myrtle St., Boston, Mass., has a Liberty Album to exchange for best otfer of stamps | not in his collection. Al letters answered. — One fine photograph, valued at{$2.00, and one book | valued at 50c. one N. of A. fine catalogue of a great stamp dealer, for the following stamps. (No Bogus). Three Meckelenburg-Schwerin 4 8., three Austin Le- | vant, Italy 10c; Tassa, 0,10 ct. dieci, Great Britain, £1 | China, 1sen, 20 sen. Corea, 1 cand, Natal, 1 penny, } United States, 1, 2, 3,4, and 9c stamp of 1700, Brazil, 1/5 E&. R. Sandwich Isl. 5c, 18c, 2c, 5c, lc. John Burck- | hardt, Box 3, Vicksburg, Miss. | “¥ordham” P. O. Box 672, New York, has a “‘Detective | Gamera” to exchange for row-boat. The camera is | made from original designs and cost $45. It will take | 12 pictures 434 x 344 without reloading. |. Wm. R. Stemmle, 95 Lakeside ave., Orange, N.J. A | magic lantern and outfit, over 200 cigarette pictures, and 50 foreign stamps, for best offer, will exchange separately if desired. All letters answered. The Norfolk Stamp Club, was duly organized March 1, 1890, and has members all over the United | States, and Canada. Dues l0ca month, and each member receives 100 foreign stamps a month. We have prizes every month. Representatives wanted in each State in the Union and in Canada, write for par- | ticulars. Address all letters to Secretary of the Nor- | folk Stamp Club, 95 Bute St., Norfolk, Va. | } I have between 500 and 600 stamps, a stamp album, two comic libraries, a song book containing 100 songs, and the first to the present number of Goop News, for best offer. letters answered. James F. Moore, care Cotton Exchange, Norfolk, Va. M. J. Barry, 412 East 11th St., Cheyenne, Wyo., has $6 worth of reading matter for a printing press of equal value, or a camera. Luke J. LeColles, care of Jos. Parssville. 469 Second ave., New York, has a nickle-plated'scrol, saw oneffoot high, and altelegraph key, for the best offer of stamps —_—__~+-»_____ _§, & 8. MANUAL LIBRARY, oe This series comprises hand-books of in- formation on many useful and interesting isubjects. They are carefully compiled from the best sources and connot fail to please | the reader. pth ga Issued Semi-Monthly. Price 10 Cents. No. No. No. No. No. No, 1—The Album Writer’s Assistant. 2—The Way to Dance. 3—The Way to do Magic, 4—The Way to Write Letters. 5—How to Behave in Society. 6—Amateur’s Manual of Photography. “the judge couldn’t give him any sentence worse than sneaking around the moun- tains without food or shelter.” The new mine has only been in_ opera- tion about a year; but that is time enough to show that the vein is much richer than the one at Farley’s. Instead | of being forced to spend money making ¢ shaft or slope, coal of good quality has been taken out from the first, and already | do the original owners consider them- selves wealthy. It is true the united amount in bank would not be thought large by many; but their income is con; | No. No. No. T—Out-of-Door Sports. 8—How to do Business. 9—The Young Gymnast. No. 10—The Hunter and Angler. No. 11—Short-Hand for Everybody. No. 12—The Taxidermist’s Mannal. Any of the above books will be sent to any address on receipt of price, 10 cents, postage prepaid, by the publishers, Street & Smith, 31 Rose St, New York, SERIES “B®” BOOK PREMIUMS. Three Books Given Away to Every Reader +7 E have concluded to give away three books, instead of two, as originally announced. As in our first series, we will print a conpon on the first page for TwELVvE consecutive issues. The coupons will be numbered from 1 to 12, inclusive, and by sending us the set complete we will send you any three booles in the ‘“‘Goop News” Lirsrary that you may select from the following list. There are no conditions in this premium offer except to send us the complete set num- bering from 1 to 12, inclusive. The first twelve numbers of ‘ Goop News” Lisrary have been carefully selected from the entire list of the well-known. ‘Golden Library.” Future issues of ‘“Goop News” Liprary-will be composed of original stories specially writ- ten for us. All fiction published in this library will deal with exciting incidents and adventure, while entirely free from objec- tionable sensationalism. We feel certain that everybody will be pleased with them. SG Make Your Own Selections. “GOOD NEWS” LIBRARY. No. 1.—CAMP AND CANOES; or, Cruise of the Red Jackets in Florida, by St. George Rathborne. No. 2.—SENT ADRIFT; or, Around the Werld on Eighty Cents, by ftenry A. Wheeler. No. 3.—A YOUNG BLUE JACKET; or, En- listed fer the War, by Robert E. Morse. No. 4.—BOY_ CARIBOU-HUNTERS; or, peeerone seer of Hudson Bay, by Charles . Cross. No. 5.-ALL ABOARD; or, The Rival Boat Clubs, by Weldon J. Cobb. No. 6.—EVERY INCH A_ BOY; _or, An pansone Actor’s Adventures, by Johu Tuck- inghorn. No. 7.-WORKING HIS WAY; or, The Brookville Boys’ Club, by Dwight Welden. No. 8.-TOM BROWN’S PLUCK; or, The eee of a Soldier Boy, by ‘Major AF. Grant. No. 9.—BRIGHT AND EARLY; or, The Boy Who Became a Detective, by John Tuckinghorn. No. 10.—ONE CENT CAPITAL; or, A Young Clerk’s Adventure, by Archie Van. No. 11.-WESTWARD HO! or, The Cabin in the Clearing, by Henry L. Black. No. £2.—_AFLOAT WITH A CIRCUS ta ainaee-Sepaere of Natal, by » Black. This series commenced in No. 19. or. Henry * FIFTY CENTS. The above amount includes postage on one of our handsome binders. It is, with- out doubt, the finest binder ever offered, even for double the price we ask, and is in- dispensable to those who are keeping their papers, as it not only preserves Goop NEws for future reference, and from being lost, but keeps them clean and in good order. is both useful and ornamental, It It has a durable black embossed cover with flexible back, and a gold stamp title on the outside cover. It opens flat as any book, and each week’s paper can be inserted as soon as received. Full directions for in- serting the paper accompany each binder. We will send the Goon News binder and a package of binder pins, postpaid, to any address on receipt of 50 cents. This binder and has never been offered at this low figure before by any publisher. | Plainly stated, our reason for offering this | binder below cost is as a means of adver- tising, ss GoonD NEWS. cee Our Mail Bag. Puzzle Corner. Be fOriginal contributions solicited. Please donot send puzzles containing obsolete words. Address, “Puzzle Editor’ Goop News, New York City, P. O. Box 273A.) [Questions on subjects of general interest only dealt with in the ‘Mail Bag.” Medical or res questions not answered. Goop NrEws #0¢ ere two weeks in advance of date of publication, and ok fore answers cannot appear until two or three w | after we receive them.] Spe he Be Explanations of the different puzzles and their meaning. ORYPTOGRAM.—Secret character or cipher writing. EnriegmMa.—An obscure statement whose hidden mean- ing is to be discovered. PuzzLE OR RippitE.—A bewildering question for solution. ReBvus.—Enigmatical representation of words by figures ; a riddle made ap of such representations. TRANSPOSITION.—To substitute one for the other. METAMORPHOsIS.—Change of form, shape, or struc- ture ; transformation. ANAGRAMS.—A transposition of the letters of a name; forming a new word ACROSTIC.—A composition usually in verse, in which the first letter of every line, read collectively, form a name or sentence. LocoeripHs.—A word which may be treated as a metagram, decapitation, detation, and transposition, but leaves a perfect word after each operation. MrTAGRAM.—Change the first letter of a word to form another word. CHARADES.—Formed on a word each syllable of ERIN 7 spook of H. B. Louisville, Ky.)—We do not publish @ “hook songs. ye on P. A. G. (Cleveland, O.—Goop NEws 38 issued Thursday, in all cities. F. D. W. (Taunton, Mass.)\—Goop NEWS is stamp on all binders. We have no other. d W. D. (Los Angeles, Cal.)\—You neglected to sem answer to the puzzle you contributed. | el | ©. M. W. (Ypsilanti, Mich.)—June 6, 1872, fellon Mi nesday. Aug. 26, 1852, fell on Thursday. 1862, aD were leap years. pers Ben Schipper Chicago, T1L.)—We answer all lee received, although it may take some few weeks they appear in print. which is a word. _ DECAPITATION.—Drop the first letter of a word, leay- aes 10 ing another word. | @€.S. (Ros a i Aad ro neat Loot | By. Os, 4 No, 1— spend money like a foolif he ever becomes rich. windy Be chort feeake aod Pee ahaped clus i You often do this after running awhile. “He that fights and runs away, Oi even Maine i oh 5 oll feathers on the breast. Turbits are similar. ind con 5, Will live to fight another day.” ane ep ape st man in the ¢ ommunity is the man | the owl variety, but the wings are colored, fay pav? This is in glad, but never in guile. No. 2— ee always giving good advice, which is never | trast with a pure white body and tail or varie, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, ; Head, lead, read, dead. Tice ca ee cern ie pra also a sOliG eavild od Here are some birds sometimes seen in the air. No. 3— MEN would be more likely to remove mountains Witt-deathen’ ee cs Ts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, : Milan—Lima, by faith if they experimented a little while on | 3 ‘ vay to coltr. This is some clothing that boys and men wear. No. 4— mole hills. G. Judi Gs; Creaciees F. Q)~1 he best canton mat T meerschaum pipe is irst cover it W. te ae . 771K ApaM. a Ss MAN, like every story, has two sides: one he nel to keep from scratching, then ylace & pi bol No. 3—GEOGRAPHICAL PUZZLE. Kf ahowsa tlie world: ee aa leony boul ao that it will not burn ,OUe im 7 ¢ 1e mie eae NEVER ‘ 10WS ie world, and the other the world finds } ton” in the owl so that it will no a the ip? One day, as | went out hunting, I killed a city of a out for itself tom, and a piece of composition aroun the ?? New York. After eating some of the steaks, and SEE is fares that the edzes will not buru.. Never 10a@ feeling thirsty, I drank of a river of Montana. Nas R OCCASIONALLY & man continues to move in the | While it is warm. yaned 7 x » 2a }) A. * »¢ 7a ¢ z c i '. o— saf encleaty w 10) nga pic , ay “2, > av ~ Feeling refreshe d from the abov e, and in looking ? 1dive: oF best SOC fety whose lease rightly expired the day E. J. M. (Cincinnati, Ohio.)—1. We have pub Busan up to see how the weather was, I discovered a Ave, evil. he moved in. particulars regarding the ‘“GooD youn /}) country of Europe, which I killed immediately. 2 Rail, lar. i Society Medal” so often that it seems strange ers Ary WNT After partaking of a bottie of a city of New Hamp- 8 Drawer, reward, TuERe is nothing worth having at the top of the | not better informed. Look up your back nuredals of WY Wy shire, I took a nap on a city of Arkansas, In afew | _ 4 Pit, tip. hill, if a man believes the story of those who have | 7, in particular, 2. The Humane Society ibisDeE ot Yo) Ay minutes Il was awakened by the loud noise of a | NO. 6— gradually fallen down. not for sale. ‘They are presented by the Fardi® Ye ) city of China. Getting up, and after refreshing Floor-oil-cloth. ‘ ‘ | Goop NEws, to all young persons who J Way myself by a city of Maine, I started home Atter | No. 7? Ir is not always the survival of the fittest that ee a ae th the y Uf a few hours traveling 1 met a river in South “A rolling stone gathers no moss.” you will find, ‘but more often the survival of the , hase ) We agree wir ities WY attcia Yu hr a : ae No. 8 man who never fit at all. W. D. M. (Westfield, Pa.)—1. We js Pr ame WY America, who stopped me and endeavored to rifle | N® S— author. 2. The book you inquire about ou BAN, Yi) my pockets, but by a lively struggle, asI did not|.. 1 Monkey. 2 Dog. 82Rooster. 4 Deer, JAY GOULD has purchased the Castile of Chapalte- | “Don Gordon’s Shooting Box.” 3 ‘The § edo F iy like to shoot him, I managed to escape, for which | No. — fee, in Mexico, paying $5,000,000 for it. He will | Probably never appearedin book form. 4 oD the Cot Wy I thank a city of Rhode Island. Roserr EB. H. 1 W—Iill. make it his winter home | think there is any particular value pierD gi My tthe ‘“d. Meadine Aw nis 2 O—scar. vi nene fe ney = the een pr player 6. e SE? cLS. ° we " , 4 0 v are " ¢ . sicdere e best ¢ " ase-bé Ndlvefrmhvnsyng. Thssmblvdsnnwmmwilpisd. 8 F rank, Lapy of the House (to tramp) : Poor man, you eee tarts end os ie ASE , The above is a passage from the New Testament. ¢ Re A oe nee a Meso as ; ” me # itn eo Sy Ee eats 5 r “bin. rap(proudly) ‘Yes, ma’m, but no convictions, C. G. B Cndianap lis, Ind.)—1. To, Meare a Boat? 0. 5—ANAGRAMS. r oes “You are not the young lady j : nalist your first efforts should be to 88°... woll ng <3 a i: , the g lady to whom I give les- | jn g sg arian ‘e where you 1 Tinram. 2 Puptoalion. 3 Itis anarch. No. 10 HORSE sons,” said the plano teacher, on wtb ped pete 0g er wee none No. 6—HE 1 PUZZLE wa ee OWLNG “No; the young lady to whom you give lessons | thorough printer, but you must have oe rat tah? NO. EXAGON PUZZLE. RIGOR is sick, and she has sent me to practice for her.” | of the art to be successful. 3. stud ct and f for The primals, centrals, and finals, read down, g NOI K ; | composition. 4. Write to the papers diner nk yo will name an animal, a bird, and a fish, So NO t i “I’m a self-made man—entirely self-made, | your case clearly and concisely. we t .A‘consonant, EGRET‘ What do you think of that, sir ?” your kind opinions. gel is ft 2 To fondle, eats tie marie ind i “Well, it strikes me you might have done a des vi I = Te ate ANSWER TO REBUS IN NO, 23, hati ar bad you tot out thb.contract,? Ml! @rit-CDenver, Col.)—1. The helm, of, ® “ort one i dig. you let out the contract, $ ‘ > ‘or tO the, § js Pine 4 A tree. 1 Arkansas (Arkansaw). : port” when the tiller is borne over the ti or east 7 5 To have good qualities. 2 BANE. Sux stepped into the car, radiant with youth, | Side, and it i¢ “hard. open the port 810 anally 6 To fasten. 2 Pennsylvania, on looking cool and bright in her flower trimmed | tiller projects abaft or behind instea oe er 7 A consonant, . 2 Darr 4 Ohio. lat and speckless suit of linen. Four young men | jn fr th aia » positions Of ¥, i f No. 7—VE se t Oe LitTLE DATIE, 5 New York. immediately offered her their seats. She aecepted | be ees Tg er. Coe rote 2. aural echo) 6 ~ ERBAL HARADE, 6 lowa. one with an entrancing smile, and instantly gave | detective, one must be ossessed_ 0: 4 sitiow 10 fiom am in shade, but not in bower. 7 Tennessee. it to a poor, wan, little old woman who had been | for tracing crime and the like, 1p ougiit and Fass Iam in strength, but not in power. 8 Indiana. standing for ten blocks, whereupon the young | S2rewdness, bravery, quickness of Mitty grew ' am 2 oe! Mon not in hour, 9 Illinois. men did not know whether to get up again or not and a considerable amount of diplom k ene fe am in love, but not in fond. —+—— and tried their best cf ys 3 ; iting Ang w I am tn lake, but not in pond. SOLVERS TO PUZZLES led r best nct to look foolish. Sopho (Atlanta, Ga.)—For black writing poy ge I am in shore, but not in strand. Rae oe ee ae a YESTERDAY, a8 an Old citizen was nailing a “To | Portions which appear most per are: B wr oo 1 am in valley, but not in land. Chas. E. Brierley, Paterson, N. J.; Fred Crosby, | Rent” card on a vacant house, a pedestrian halted ti: ppoprneet me we Pe poiling watelyy. of New London, Conn.; Chas. Vedder, Texas; F. Y. | and remarked that ‘“‘howze” was n¢ riceht way OE rebate ee Jregern mely, 9 padi For as not the right way | third of the weight of the galls—n#@ These letters, if placed aright by you, ry 7 7 ’ ‘ ry’ ‘ . \ Y , a fe Will bring a poet’s name to view, Bover, El Paso, Tex.; Charles Gould, Chicago; Max | to spell ‘house.’ phate of iron in solution ; also 302. Ne c Ove 5 nee Huckel, Galveston, Tex.; Herbert Senior, Paterson, | ‘How long have you lived in this city?” asked | viously dissolved, and a few reid dissol¥e45 mit woe NETTIE. ; ' : F ic aci No. 8—DoUBLE ACROSTTO. N. J.; Clarence Sterling, St. Louis, Mo,; Jennie | the old citizen, scowling savagely. drops of creosote or carbolic act) | yalls a 1 Made of gold. wee Seon N. J.; Harry T. Schweig, New “Hifteen years,” was the reply. retake el ao nfusiod aD o Maal 9 To resis ork; f »Atee sville. Kv.: K > Ww “wea Ixy 76 YA ° are 2 ; or ours, the streé , ‘ yi 2 To resist. TK; . H. McAtee, Louisville, Ky.; Kittie W. Well, I’ve lived here for thirty,” continued the | other ingredients. To make reé "of ‘vines ot ground Brazil wood and three pint “and Field, Wayne, Pa.: Harry L. Taylor, Elizabeth, N. | old man, ‘‘and 1 guess 1 know how to spell as well till reduced to a pint and a hau, pie 3 A desperado, J.; Maud Heaney, Mendon, Ill.; Joseph Dunwoodie, | as you do.” 4 Scum of metals, The finals and primals will form the name New York; Louls Rosen, Troy, N. Y.; Fred J. Hig- yowdered rock alum. tb Fa tor something a boy Should not be without. of ginson, New York; S. L. Shearer, Tuckerton, Pas; “MorHER wants to know if you won't please to a (Ci asks : “Where is te Boca C. VEDDER. William F. Gale, Philadelphia, Pa.; Mabel Levi, | 1¢24 her your preserving kettle—cause as how she Henry (( nicano, Tih) x Tf possible Dou ’ No. 9—REBUS. Washington, D. U.; “‘Spit-iire,” Rochester, N. Y.; wants to preserve ?” fo mt ) en? 4 ae kitchen; aD ee fat? by Helen McNally, Washington, D. C.; C. Percy Haly-|, “We Would with pleasure, my boy, but the fact bé experienced in keeping the ens Wf ai) burton, Philadelphia, Pa.; Cyrus L. Davis, Lisle, | 18. the last time we lent it to your mother she pre- | may be kept at an almost uniform 4 day. abe N. Y.; Homer Blinn, Haverhill, Mass. William R, | Served it so effectually that we have never seen it drawing off one-fourth of it three rast cape sett Padgits, Baltimore, Md., and F. H. Forr, Waynes- | 8!nce.” paca it, with boiling water, Th? “hed. ven it Be ville. O. “Well, you needn’t be so sassy about your old | be made a prior to. retiriie , nouls) pe Boat —_—_—_~+0-—»—__—. kettle ; mother wouldn't have troubled you ag’in, | UMiciently warm for sa et st ecess, it wit or ati only we seed you have a new one.” »| be renewed. If you expect suc test care He pa yo y ; d ne. to watch the tank with the great o e foot y evidence pelP jah ot - “ | h the f “Nn t w , , c » | days. As soon as there is any 0" ot to Sho} { Stops. No, I don’t want none of your lightning rods,” | jet the eggs alone, and do not attoiie chick i said a Kentucky farmer, last week, toa man who | cess by breaking the shell ; tl Jig 1g had stopped at his house to put up patent light- | to that part of the operation. 30, 38 A FAMINE prevails in the Soudan. ning conductors. ‘I ain’t afraid of lightning; it’s riley (Staten Island, N y.)—On o6 we be the thunder I believe’s going to knock us all end- | ,,3¢7kley (Staten alan one mile? aistaneiaitay A MAN without faults has no friends, wise some day.” c ote oi Ens Se a eet rd £0 bot brates ois - - seconds. 16 Tastes a ; . + a kr see ho ” oe ’ St | CY uariu DU Nin AN ocean greyhound should be bark rigged. peddler ; ihwen ore stteraipied. yo tenn i ye ag ‘ile od p J, dg ; se ‘ere § -b § > light- 1a . BH. HENK COVETCO sontemvel.«’ Mond Ong need not go beyond himself to study ning rods, and the gold-tipped ones are thunder | seconds in New York, on Se peer 6 DOU aod soy human nature rods—just what you want,” and he persuaded the | four miles and 32 laps were SM vith, iD that pie hss ; , . old man in ordering up the gold-tipped rods. | $0.10 hours Galy) ng, W. Bewebb, who Je eR at in requires no seli-dental tor &DaWnbEOker’ to A REVER tl I eerenpee yet 4 1e Niagara Bepecttigg i — : £ ro I SVE IND ¢e » © ) c " ‘ - g f e 0 8 DAN AD Cl e keep the pledge. pany a deer oreninak oad bir talilte fiem that ke without touching anything ae to uly is 1 Fhe TTOMESTONES are more charitable than a good | 4nd his wife had separated. * Scarborough, XOrKeli>