SE) TS1G “yy $2 aate CMM b Ss LAOS SS Sass RSQ S aaa OED ~ D WW .. : = (ERY: QUARTE” "Entered According to Act of Congress, in the Year 1891, by Street & Smith, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washingion, D. 0. Entered as Second-class Matter at the New York, N. Y., Post-Office, May 2, 1891. ee ee ay 2, 1891. New York 2 9P Roh M ghee, PagPenl pat Meh Mut Mut My eyo Mn sas” acMeeP nahh ernshrshenr MoM ue aston rue ue teetaentasmesmaetasrasmastashmarnsr ryt Wwe ha We ue *ae iar er Vol 9 Srrect & Smitu, Publishers, ® ‘ $1 Rose Street. P. O. Box 2734. AMONG THE ESQUIMAUX; OR, Adventures Under the Arctic Circle. By EDWARD 8. ELLIS. Author of “Ransomed,” “Enola,” “Boy Pioneer Series,” “Wyoming Series,” Deerfoot Series,” Log Cabin Series,” etc., etc. CHAPTER X. AN UGLY CUSTOMER, for the time, from Jack Cosgrove, who was resting himself after his hard climb. The youth was thinking of no one and OB CARROL had good cause for|nothing else, except his friend Fred his panic. Full of high hope, he; Warburton, who had vanished so mys- hurried along the ice between |teriously the night before. me, -@’ ~ crags which shut him out of sight, The signs in the icy track he was fol- Reet geet ee teeta sg het eet Hers, FIVE CENTS PER COPY. Subscription Price, $2.50 per Year. eP ehh ete ge tet testy Oy eteaten tages eet ograstnar heh tqe tn ee No D2. ea al a*ee" soto HE DROVE HIS-KNIFE STRAIGHT © AT THE HEAD OF THE BEAR f - —— — JUST THEN A GUN SOUNDED FROM A POINT HIGHER UP THE BERG, AND THE HUGE BRUTE STOPPED, AND REARED The searcher’s nerves were strungto| “Fred! Fred, old fellow, where are the highest point, and he was pushing | you? Speak, I beg of you.” forward with unabated vigor, when his| The words were trembling on his lips, heart almost stood still, as he caught a| when what seemed to be a huge pile of peculiar sound among the masses of ice, | snow just in advance, arose from the ice “That’s Ered,” he concluded; “he’s |and began swinging toward him. alive, thank God!” and then he called to| Paralyzed for the moment by the amaz- his friend ; ing sight, and wondering whether his lowing convinced him that he was close upon the heels of his chum, who could not have wandered much farther in ad- vance. His hope was tinged with the deepest anxiety, for it was impossible to account for Fred’s long absence and si- lence, except upon the theory that some grievous injury had befallen him, sont ON HIS HAUNCHES, senses were not betraying him, Rob stood motionless, as if rooted to the spot. But the next minute that same mass of snow assumed more definite shape, and an unmistakable grow] issued from some- where within the interior. That was enough. Rob knew what it was that was sweeping down upon him _ attention to himself. P-818 GoonDp NEWS. like a young avalanche. He had almost stumbled over a huge polar bear, raven- ous and fierce with hunger, and with a courage that made him afraid of neither man nor beast. He must have been half-asleep when roused by the approach and the voice of the lad. Opening his great eyes, he saw before him a fine breakfast in the shape of a plump lad, and he proceeded to go for him withavim and eagerness that would not be denied. It was about this time that Rob whirled on his heel and started on the back track, with all the desperate hurry at his com- mand. It will be remembered that he had no gun with him, he and Jack hav- ing left the weapons on the ice a con- siderable distance away. Both were with- out any means of defense, unless the sheath knife which the sailor always carried may be considered a weapon, and the only possible hope for them was to secure their rifles before the monster se- cured them. When the lad’s frenzied cry broke upon Jack, he sprang from the seat where he had been resting, and stood staring and wondering what it all could mean. He saiy the boy’s cap fly from his head, and he noted histerrified glances behind him. The next moment the polar bear plunged into sight, and the sailor grasped the situation. Even then he failed to do the wisest thing. Instead of realizing that but one course could save them, and that was by dashing back to the guns, he hastily drew his knife and awaited the coming of the brute with.a view of checking his attack upon the lad. It was more creditable to Jack’s chiv- alry than to his sagacity that he should do this thing. Even Rob, despite his extreme fright, saw the mistake his friend was making, and called to him: “Quiek, Jack! Get the guns and ‘shoot him!” “T shouldn’t wonder now if that was a good idea,” reflected the sailor, shoving his knife back, and whirling about to do as urged. The sitaation was so critical that even his sluggish blood was stirred, and he neyer moved so fast as he did for the suc- ceeding seconds. Indeed, it was _ al- together too fast, for he fell headlong with such violence that he was partially stunned, and by the time he regained his - feet Rob was upon him. Meanwhile the polar bear was making matters lively. He was hustling for his breakfast, and he kept things on the jump. He was at home amid the snow and ice, and, with little effort, got for- ward faster than the fugitives possibly ToS he was overliauling Rob hand over and. To continue his flight, even for the brief remaining distance, was to insure his certain death. Rob saw him, ‘and, when the ponderous beast was almost upon him, he made a desperate leap from the icy path, landing on his hands and knees several feet to the left, and in- stantly scrambling up again. The maneuver was so unexpected by the pursuer that he passed several paces beyond before he could stop. Turning Kis head, with his huge jaws so far apart that his red tongue and long, white teeth _ showed, he prepared to continue his ,pur- suit of the lad who had escaped him for the moment by such an exceedingly nar- row chance. i But it so happened that Jack Cosgrove just tben was also climbing to his feet from his thumping fall, and, being but a short way from the brute, he drew his The bear’s appetite was in that rugged - state that he was not particular as to whether his meal was made from a boy or full-grown man, and, since the latter was within most convenient reach, he shifted his design to him. “By the great horned spoon!” muttered ‘the sailor, quick to see how matters had ‘turned; “but it’s Jack Cosgrove that is to have all this fun to himself, and he’s enjoying it,” os favor-of the brute. _ . Jack’s tumble and-flurry had so mixed cious ‘The single recourse still presented it- self; nothing could be done to check the + furious beast, until one of the rifles was turned against him, but it did seem for a time as if fate itself was ‘fighting in him up that the rifles were forgotten, un- til he took several steps on his flight, when he recalled the fatal oversight, and _ hastily turned to rectify it; but the pre- moments wasted made it too late. bear was actually between him and the weapons, and, to attempt to reach them, except by a roundabout course, was to fling himself into the embrace of those _ resistless claws. He was too wise to attempt it. The _ first thing to do was get himself out of _ the reach of the terror that was bearing _ down upon him with the certainty of waa only @ tree that I sould “Tf thera ¢limb,” he reflected, leaping, tumbling, and laboring forward as best he could; “he couldn't nab me, but I don’t see any tree, and that chap’s hungry enough to eat a stewed anchor.” In the fearful hurry and panic some moments passed before Rob Carrol com- prehbended the abrupt. change in the plan of campaign. At the moment he expected to feel the claw of the brute, he looked back and saw he was pressing Jack hard. Furthermore, the latter, instead of hurry- ing for the guns, was drawing away from them. s , That was a bad outlook, but it “sug- gested to the youth that the chance had come for him to do something effective. He lost no time in seizing the chance. He turned again in his course and moved around toward the spot where the weapons had been left near at hand. Couldehe have been sure of a few minutes there would have been no trouble in managing it, but events were going with such arush that there was nota spare second at command, The guns being near and lower in ele- vation than themselves, were in plain sight. Rob saw the barrels and the iron work gleaming in the morning sunlight, so that he could make no mistake in lo- cating them, but his attention -was so riveted on the prizes that he es no heed to his footsteps, or, rather, he paid less heed than was necessary, He was within fifty feet, and was counting upon the quickness with which he would end the sport of the brute when he discovered that he was on the brink of an irregular depression in the ice. He tried desperately to check himself or turn aside, but it was beyond his ability and over he went, CHAPTER XI, LIVELY TIMES. (3 OB’S fall was not far, and his h heavy clothing saved him from the ‘io.\ bruises that otherwise might have ~~ ~ disabled him. He stared about him and saw that be had fallen into a rough depression of the ice from ‘six to eight feet in depth, and of about the same diameter. “Here’s a go,” he reflected; “I wonder whether the bear will follow me here, but he’s giving his full attention. to poor Jack, and won’t hunt for me until he is through with him.” It was characteristic of the lad that, knowing the imminent peril of' his friend, he should feel more anxious about him than himself, All thought of the miss- ing Fred was shut out for the moment. The first thing for Rob to do was to get out of the hole into which he had fallen. He did not wait, but, throwing off his outer coat, flung it upon the edge of the depression, and then, leaping up- ward, caught the margin with his mit- tened hands. As I stated at the begin- ning, he.was a fine athlete, but. the task was almost impossible, The purchase was so slight that when he put forth his strength and attempted to draw himseif upward, his mittens slipped, as though they were oiled. — Then he snatched off the mittens, threw them upon his coat, and again made the abana: he failed as before. “I've got to stay here while the bear kills poor Jack,” was his despairing thought; “Iean do nothing, when, if were up there, I could lay hold of one of the guns and save him.” The reflection was so bitter that he could not rest. Walking rapidly around the depression, he jumped upward at every step or two and repeated the effort. | Failure followed failure, and he was once more in despair. ‘ Sas he made the attempt, and his hand struck a knob-like projection, which afforded just the purchase wanted. Grasping it. with all his might, he quickly drew himself upward, and was once more on what might be considered the surface proper of the iceberg. At the moment of elimbing into sight he heard the report of a gun. “Ah, Jack has managed to reach his rifle, and has given the brute a shot—no, he hasn’t, either!” To his unbounded amazement, he saw the sailor fleeing and dodging for life, with the bear still at his heels. But he had no gun in his hand, and, casting his eye below him, Rob observed both weap- ons lying where they were placed by the owners a short time before. Tho had fired that gun whose report he just heard? ‘ : : It was an absorbing question, indeed, but there was no time just then to give it a thought. Rob was much nearer the rifles than either Jack or the bear, and he now hastened thither; taking care that his last mishap was not repeated. From what has been told it will be understood that Jack Cosgrove found no time for the grass to grow under his feet. He had pulled himself through many a narrow alte ag but he was sure he was ance gatas alt REMC Bit whe ‘had I | change, an ths line of his flight, and doubtless saved himself more than once by such means; but the discouraging fact was ever with him that his relentless enemy could travel tenfold faster and better than he over the ice, and, sooner or later, was certain to run him..down. unless turned aside by some one else. Jack naturally wondered what had be- come of Rob, who was so active only a short time before. His furtive glances showed him nothing of his friend, but he had no chance to speculate, nor did he call upon him for help, as the lad had appealed t» him, but a short time before. The sorely pressed fugitive drew his knife to be prepared for the final struggle that was at hand. He had met polar bears before, and he knew what such a conflict meant. He was wise enough, too, not to post- pone the struggle until his own strength was exhausted by running. He whirled about, when the brute was no more than ten feet distant, and, grasping his knife by the tip of the blade, drove it with all the vicious fury at his command straight at the head of the bear. The sailor was an adept at this species of thruwing, and had often given exhibi- tions of his skill on ship board. It was not to be expected that he could kill such a gigantic animal by flinging his sheath knife at him, but it sped so true and with such power, that, striking his neck, it inflicted a.deep wound, sinking so deep, indeed, that it remained in the wound. At this juncture the rifle, whose re- port Rob heard, was fired. The sailor supposed, as a matter of course, that Rob discharged it, for there could be no doubt the bear was the target. The bullet struck him near the junction of the left leg, and there could be no mistake about his being hit hard. He uttered a peculiar whining. moan, stopped for the moment, and then resumed his pursuit with such a marked limp that his progress was per- ceptibly decreased. Bielie his own advantage, Jack was wise enough to use it. In his desperation deprived himself of his only weapon, and he was defenseless. But with a aes bear lumbering after him, and with the short respite he had gained, he fancied he could» hold his own in a foot race. So he wheeled and went at it again. ; ‘ By this time, and, indeed, a minute before, Rob had reached the spot where the two guns lay, and, with both in his grasp, the set off in hot hasté to overtake the brute. He meant to get so near that when he fired there could be no miss. To his exasperation, he stumbled and came within a hair of going into the very hole from which he had extricated him- self with so much difficulty. But he es- caped, and, finding neither weapon in- jured, he resumed his pursuit, cheered by the apparent fact that the bear was no longer able to gain upon the fugitive. Jack had run as close to the edge of the iceberg as possible, and, to venture nearer, would be at the imminent risk of going into the icy sea. He: perforce turned, and sped in the direction of the lad, who was hastening to his help. This suited Rob, for there was no call for him to continue his pursuit, since the bear was approaching “head on.” The youth py as soon as he saw the prepared to close matters. The opening could not have been bet- ter, and, dropping one rifle at his feet, Rob steadied himself and took careful aim at the beast. He pointed the gun not at his head, but at a point just below, hoping to reach his heart. He saw the snowy coat stained erimson from the wound made by Jack’s knife, and he limped heavily. “Look out you don’t hit me!” called the panting sailor, whose grim humor showed itself at the most, inopportune times. j “Get out of the way, then!” called Rob, in turn; “you’re right in front of me.” Jack dodged to one side, being at the moment about midwa friend and pursuer, and less than twenty feet from either, — Bes The next instant the lad pulled trigger. But the bear did not stop, and showed no evidence of having been so much as harmed. A “You missed him, you lubber! Let me have the other gun, and show you how to bring down game.” ; There was no timefor any such pro- ceeding, and, dropping the discharged weapon, Rob instantly stooped and caught Ee e second. . Fa ts ust then another gun sounded from a rute stopped. He seemed dazed, and, alf-rearing on his haunches, picked at the wound, as though he fancied a splin- mots higher up the berg, and the huge h ter was there, whic his flesh. : “He’s going to attack us with the knife!” called Jack, who saw that, the danger was over; “and I. shouldn’t won- der {f he known how to do it better than FOR CAR Manages pour gun, he could draw from between his’ “Keep out of the way, Jack, and I’ll finish him,” Rob had brought the second weapon to a level, and the opening was, if -possible, more favorable thar before. Again he pulled trigger, and this shot did the business. The monster, one of the largest and fiercest of his species, went down in a helpless mass, and expired before their eyes. “Hello, you chaps would be in a pretty scrape if it wasn’t for me!” Jack and Fred turned toward the point whence the voice came and saw Fred Warburton hastening toward them with his smoking rifle in hand. CHAPTER XII. FRED’S EXPERIENCE. | OTH Jack Cosgrove and Rob Carrol could have shouted with joy at ee) sight of the missing boy, and the sound of his voice. fore than once, during the stirring minutes that they were striving to save themselves from the irrestrainable bear, they thought of ‘the shot that was fired by neither of them, and which, therefore, they natu- rally attributed to their friend. The second shot left no doubtof its source, and here now was the youth hurrying down from some point near where the brute had come, laughing like his own natural] self. It need not be said that his hand was shaken heartily by the sailor and his companion, and that he was overwhelmed with questions as to his singular action. _ The story of Fred was curious, and yet it had been partially discounted by his chum, It was not to be supposed that he would leave the comparative comfort he enjoyed when huddled close to his friends with- out good cause, and in that case he would have notified them of his inten- tion, to save them from alarm. The experience of the day disturbed him, and caused him to dream ‘dreams of the most vivid nature. Several times, during the preceding years, he had walked in his leet and his departure from’ the camp, as they called it, was as unknown to himself as to his friends. It was evident that he managed the business with great skill, since neither of the others was disturbed. He picked up his gun and went off in the direction, followed by Rob, clambering farther u the side of the iceberg than was suppose ‘possible. “T think,” said Fred, “that I can read the cause for what I did while uncon- scious. You remember we had much to say about the Nautilus being driven out of sight by the gale, and TI recall that, before going to sleep, I wondered whether we could not climb to a higher portion of the berg and signal to them. “I suppose that was what set my mind and muscles to work when» unconscious, and impelled me to try what I never would have tried with my full senses about me, ‘ “When I came to myself I was ina cavity in the ice, where the protection against the gai was much better than our camp. It was a regular bowl or hol- low, which would haye been just the thing for us three. But daylight had come, the weather was so moderate that I did not suffer from cold, and there was nothing, therefore, to be feared from that cause. aA, bay “As you may suppose, it took me som time before J could recall myself, but I was not long insuspecting the truth. I was so comfortable in the position involun- tarily assumed, that I lay still while pon- dering matters. When ready, I was on the point peering, when I heard a slight noise on the ice above me. ““That’s Jack or Rob,’ I thought; ‘they are looking for me, and I will give them a scare,’ “TI lay still, expecting one of you to err close.that rie would discover me, ut though I could follow the movement by sound, and though the object passed close to me, it was not quite close enough to be seen, I rose softly to my feet and peered over the edge of the cavity in which I was resting. “Well, Rob was startled when he stumbled over that polar bear, but he was no more frightened than I, when I discovered+that instead of it being one of you, it was that frightful brie cs: aoe swung by within a few feet of where ay. , San : “You can see the curious me mat- ters. The bear had_ come from some point beyond where I lay, and, makin; his way down the ice, had now place himself between me and you. The only means of my reaching you was by pass- ing close tohim. That meant a fight to the death. 23 “I noticed his ‘tremendous size, and from what I have heard they are among the most dangerous beasts in the Woon ge Heht thers, my heatty,” inten “You're rr ere, my he »” inter Fades ie there” Ber. ang S er rupted ra War GooDpD NEws. 819° doubt in my mind which theré wasn't, it was settled by that little scrimmage awhile ago.” “T had my gun, and, at first, was_half- disposed to take a shot, but the chance was a poor one, for he was walking straight away, and it was impossible to do more than sound him. That would render him furious and cause him to at- tack me. Our rifles are not repeating ones, and before I could get another charge ready, he would be upon me, and it might be that several well-aimed shots would be necessary to finish him.” “You had good sense,” said Rob; “he would have made mince meat of you ina fight.” “You must remember that while I could see the bear from where I peered over the edge of the ice, I could not catch the first sight of you. The brute seemed to be following some sort of a path, while the masses of ice were so piled upon both sides and beyond him that all farther view was shut off. “While I was watching the enormous white body swinging along, it stopped, and then to my dismay, he turned about and started back. ““He’s coming for me!’ was my con- clusion, ‘and now there will be a row sure,’ “TI braced myself to receive him, but, inasmuch ashe had not yet seen me, and, inasmuch as he had once passed my shelter, without discovering me, there was hope that he would do the same again. So ‘Brer rabbit, he lay low,’ and I listened for him to go by. As soon as he was at asafe distance, I intended to climb out and hurry to you. We three ought to be enough for him, and. I had no fear but that you might manage him between you without my help.” “That was my opinion at that time,” added Fred, with a twinkle of his eye, “but it isn’t now. While I was crouch- ing there I heard you calling to me. You can understand why I didn’t answer. I referred to remain mium so long as that bent was between me and you andcoming toward me.” _ “We did a lot of shouting last night,” said Rob. “That’s the first I knew of it. But the minutes passed without the bear being heard. I listened as intently as I knew how, but no sound reached me.” “*T wonder if he intends to promenade back and forth,’ was my thought, as I ventured to peep out once more, with great caution; ‘this is getting interest- ing.’ “Well, I was surprised when. I saw him. He was less than a dozen yards off, and lying down, with his head still turned away from me. His action was just as if he had learned that his break- fast was going to come up that path, and he intended to wait until it walked into his arms.” “And that’s pretty nearly what I did,” said Rob, with a smiling glance at the carcass. “His head being still away I dared not fire, nor would it have done for me. to call to you or answer ee signals. It was plain to me that he had no suspicion that the choicest kind of meal was right near him, and it wouldn’t. have been wise for me to apprise him of the fact;, it might have made things unpleasant all around. “You needn’t be told what followed. I ‘watched him a few minutes, during which he was as motionless as the ice- berg itself, and then I settled down to await developments. : “While seated, of course, I saw noth- ing of him, and the first notice I received of what was going on, was when I heard _ Rob shouting. I sprang out of my shel- ter, and, as you will remember, saved you both from being devoured by the’mon- ster. Isn’t he, or, rather, wasn’t he a big fellow?” added Fred, stepping over to the enormous carcass and. toughing it with his foot. — ‘ _ “He’s the biggest I’ve ever seen,” as- sented Jack, “and I’m thankful that we ot off as well as we did. It’s no use of enying that your shots helped us through.” ig “Possibly, but it was Rob after all who wound - the tened to say, lest he might be thought of wishing to take undue credit, to himself. “There’s worse eating, too, than bear wid meat.’ It was Jack who made this remark, and the others caught its significance. ‘hey were thus provided with the means | -of living for a long time on the iceberg, and might hope for some means of rescue in the course of a week or two. Rob was about to make some charac- teristic reply, when the sailor pointed out to sea. are “Do you obsarve that?” he asked. “It’s just what I was afeared of, and I don’t aie Mb OE ie A e (TO BE CONTINUED.) -———_s-0-_o___——- CoMPARIsONS spoil impressions, as re- _ - semblances spoil faces, \ business,” Fred has-- (thts Tt Will not be Published in Book-Form.] TEDDY’S VENTURE: The Adventures of a Country Boy at a Country Fair. eet ioe By JAMES OTIS. (“Teppy’s VENTURE” was commenced in No. 48, Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.] CHAPTER IX. A BRAVE RESCUE. AM was a fairly good swimmer, and as soon as he found himself in the water he struck out for the shore, paying no attention to any one else until having assured his own safety. One of the gentlemen in the other craft did the same selfish thing, while the other, unable to help even himself, was trying to keep his head above the water by resting his chin on an oar and piece of planking. The women were in imminent danger of being drowned, for there was no other boat near at hand which could be sent to the rescue, and the throng of spectators were in that unreasoning state of fear and excitement which prevents people from being of any service at such a time. When Teddy and Dan came to the sur- face after having been thrown from their seat, they were within a few feet of each other, and the latter asked: “Can you swim?” “Yes; don’t pay any attention to me, but do what.you can toward saving those women.” “Will you help me?” “Of course; but I can’t take care of more than one.” Both boats had disappeared, and noth- ing save a few fragments showed where they had gone down. Teddy thought only of aiding the strug- gling women, for there was no question ut that the man with the oars could take care of himself, at least until those on the bank should he sufficiently com- posed to do something effective, and he swam to the nearest. struggling being, clap as her firmly under one arm, as he said: “Don’t make a row; but keep perfectly quiet, an’ I’ll take you ashore.” Half-unconscious as she was, the woman attempted to grasp him by the neck, and for several seconds he had all he could do to prevent her from choking him to death; but after two or three kicks judiciously administered, he suc- ceeded in making her understand that her life as well as his own depended upon her remaining passive, and from that moment all went well. The employees of the company who had the boats on exhibition, flung into the water several life-saving arrange- ments of cork and canvas, and by dint of much persuading he induced her to trust to one of these while he went to the as- sistance of Dan, who had been carried beneath the surface more than once by the struggles of the woman whom. he was trying tosave.. By this time a boat was brought up from around the point, and as these two helpless ones were taken on board both the boys swam to the rescue of the last of the party who had sunk beneath the sur- face for the third time. Teddy, now nearly exhausted by his efforts, was the first to grasp her; but if it had not been for Dan the struggle would have been useless, since his strength was so far spent that be could not have brought her above the water unaided. By their united efforts, however, she was taken on board the boat in a state of unconsciousness, and they made their way to the shore cheered by the shouts of the assembled multitude. Weak, almost exhausted beyond the power to stand upright, they landeda few seconds in advance of the craft, and the reception received was enough to have nerved stronger men to asemblance of strength. It was not until they were in the pri- vate apartments allotted to the Davis Company that either fully understood how weak he was, and then willing hands aided them to recuperate. ; Hot flannels, warm drinks, and dry clothes were contributed by the different exhibitors, until, as Teddy said, they looked like “circus clowns;” but they were in fairly good bodily condition, and it appeared as if the involuntary bath had done them no real injury. Outside the building the people were shouting themselves hoarse’ in praises of the two boys who had saved three lives, and Sam stood bowing acknowledgments as if he had been the chief actor in the thrilling scene.. The difference fy “Al between the real and the pretended life-savers was readily under- Teddy had ‘covered himself with stood, however, when Dan and Teddy made their appearance, looking decidedly the worse for their struggles, and the cheers which went up would have been ample reward for the most praise-loving person in the world. They looked like anything rather than reputable employees as they appeared in the borrowed garments; but as Teddy said, they couldn’t stay in the building until their clothes were dried, and it was absolutely necessary he should attend to his business. Dan’s duties necessitated his remain- ing hear the creek; but Teddy was forced to go back to his cane-board, and the crowd which followed him was good evi- dence of the money he would make. During two hours after he returned from this thrilling adventure the cane- board had more customers than could conveniently be attended to, and it is safe to say that he then handled a larger amount of money than he had ever be- fore seen. “At this rate it won’t take long to square up things, and you! shall havea fair portion of the profits, Tim,” he said, when there was an opportunity for him to speak with his clerk without being overheard by the customers. “Tt’s a lucky thing for us that them boats were smashed,” Tim said, de- voutly, as he handed his employer half a dollar to change. “We might have stood here with our tongues hangin’ out all day, an’ never seen a quarter of this money, if ;you hadn’t known how to swim.” e “You are right to a certain extent; but I can’t take all the credit of this spurt, because more than half the people are trying to get a cane for nothing.” “In the same way they thought to swindle Mr. Helton out of a watch,” Tim replied, with a smile; “but we won’t fight about what brings trade so long as it comes with the cash.” Up to this time Teddy had no. very definite idea of how much money had been taken, and he was thinking it would be a good idea to ascertain, when a gruff, familiar voice from the rear, asked: “Are the wages of sin as much as they should be?” Turning quickly he saw Uncle Nathan, and replied “I don’t know exactly what they should be; but, perhaps, you do.” “Whatever I may know now, I remem- ber that,it was not allowed I should in- sult my elders either by plainly spoken words or insinuations,” the old man said, sternly. “Neither would I have done such a thing if you had not given me the pro- vocation; but when I promised to pay three dollars for the use of fifteen one week, you did not seem to think that amount would be the wages of sin.” “At the time I had no idea you would conspire with others to rob me of my hard-earned savings.” ; “You know very well, Uncle Nathan, that I haven’t done any such thing. On the night your store was robbed I staid in the house, and hadn’t left it when you came to tell us the news.” “Every person of your class has some such excuse ready in case of an emer- gency; but that kind of talk will not do with me. If you meant to do the square thing, why wasI not told you lost the money I lent you?” “Because I knew you would raise an awful row, thinking it possible it would not be paid back.” “Have I yet any assurance that it will be?” the old man asked, in a fury. “Do you need it now?” | “T always need my own.” “And in this case, if I pay you at once, do you think it right to charge me three dollars for the use of fifteen lent two days ago?” “That was what you promised, and the world gauges a man by the way he keeps his word.” Sy “TI owe the store-keeper in Waterville thirty dollars: but I told him you must be paid first, and so you shall.” “Then give me the money now,” Uncle Nathan snarled. “That is exactly what Iam willing to | do,” Teddy replied, calmly; “but if you can't trust me I have reason to be suspic- ious of you, so give mea receipt for the amount, and the matter can be settled.” The old man literally glared at his nephew for an instant, and then, eager to have the cash in his possession, he wrote areceipt, handing it to the young fakir, as he said, angrily: ri Now, let me see if you can settle the bill.” Since the mishap on the creek, where glory, business had been so good that he had more than twice that amount, and, emptying the contents of his money bag on a board, he proceeded to select the re- quired sum. Uncle Nathan watched him jealously, | his eyes twinkling enviously, and when the money. was “placed in ‘Hin hand be / counted it twice over before delivering; up the written acknowledgment “Are you certain all this has been hon- estly earned, Teddy?” he asked, gravely. “How else could I have got it?” “There are many ways. While I would: not be willing to take my oath to it, sev-- eral of these ten-cent pieces look very - much like those I lost night. before last,” ’ Do you mean to say I had anything to - do with robbing yourstore?” and now that this particular debt had been can-- celled Teddy felt very. brave. “T know that such an amount of money ~ has not been earned honestly, and, what, is more, my eyes have been opened to: the character of your friends.” “If you mean Mr. Hazelton, he is as: much your friend as mine, for you were: with him all day Sunday.” “That is exactly who I domean,” Uncle: - Nathan replied, with provoking delibera- tion. “I have seen his method of doing: business since I came into this fair, and know he is nothing more than a deliber-- ate swindler.” “But one with whom you were per-: fectly willing to go into partnership,” a. voice, in the rear of Teddy, cried sharply, - and the jewelry fakir stepped directly in: front of Uncle Nathan. uy told you ex- actly how I worked, and you offered to: put up even money with me, growing: angry when I said you would be of no use: in the business. If it is swindling. you. were mighty eager to have a hand in’ the same business.” ; “I don’t want to talk with you,” Uncle: Nathan said, as he put Teddy’s eighteen dollars carefully in his pocket. “Then why do you come around here: — trying to bully this boy? He had no idea. of what I was going to do until he saw me work, while you understood the whole. _ plan. Make any trouble for him, and 1. will get up here and tell every person: who comes along tlat you wanted to be: my partner.” ‘ “Do it,” the old man said, angrily. “After having cheated so many people: out of their money, who will believe a. word you say ?” : At the same time, however, Uncle Na-- than took good care to leave this particu-. _ lar spot, and Hazelton stepped to the rear: vately with Teddy. of the board where he could talk pri- te ee CHAPTER X. AN ENCOUNTER. SSIRST of all, the jewelry fakir ' —{ wanted to hear the particulars. of \@) the accident on the lake, and Teddy “~c“* began by telling him the primary cause of the trouble. “T reckon all three of us lost our heads — when we saw that man; I know I did, — and we were so eager to get on shore that we paid no attention to anything iS else. Have you seen him?” “Who? Long Jim? No; but the boys ae say he is here somewhere running the swinging ball game.” 1 “What is that?” “A wooden ball is avieees two short uprights about eight inches apart, ar between them, in the center, stands a small peg. You pay ten cents for the pervunee of swinging the ball, and if it. its the peg when it comes back after leaving your hand, you get a dollar.” “I should think that would be easy enough to do.” : “Well, don’t try it with such an idea or you'll go broke mighty quick. It looks — simple; often.” “Have here?” . : rat “Yes, and scooped in as much as I had any right to expect. I don’t want to. spoil to-morrow’s business, so sha’n't — make another pitch; but willspend my time trying to find Jim. =f _ “What good can that do?” aoe “T stillcount on making him give back — your fifteen dollars, if nothing more. I reckon your Uncle Nathan won’t try — again to get a warrant out for us, and so I sha’n’t bother my head about learning © anything regarding the robbery.” * = ut it isn't accomplished very — “He'll make things just as ae able as he can; there's no question a that.” es “Well, let him, and we'll see who comes out ahead. Trade is beginning to- pick up, and you’d better attend to your — customers.” es Hazelton walked away, and from that moment until nearly nightfall Teddy had all the business both he and his. clerk gra a es Caused I had sense enough to look out ‘for myself first.” 533 “But you _ “What of that? It’s mighty risky -catchin’ hold of people in the water, an’ I don’t mean to take any chances. ou made to-day?” told him, the expert in decidedly envious. 3 Sg got all that money in one dar ey” iran r. , “Yes; but Isent the most of it home to mother.” | -“Tt’s funny what luck some folks have, when them as knows the business twice as well don’t much more’n earn their t,” Sam said, as if to himself, and be- e he could continue Dan arrived. He wore his own clothes, and carried hose Teddy had left in the boat-house.. “These were dry, sol brought ’em up. needn’t carry back the ones you » Dan asked concerning business, How ‘owed till to-morow, so Sam’s boss and by the time all three had finished discussing this very important matter the knives and canes were packed ready for removal. Each, boy took a load, carried it to the tent where Mr. Sweet was figuring up his receipts for the day, and then went to supper, returning half an hour later so tired that there was no desire on the part of either to do other than sleep. © The proprietor of the museum was in very good spirits. He had taken one hundred and six dollars and eighty cents, and said, in a tone of satisfaction: “I reckon this fair will pan out all right. Trade is bound to be better to- morrow, and Thursday is always the big- gest of the week. I hear you boys have been distinguishing yourselves. ‘Tell me about it.” Dan related the inciderits of the day very modestly, interrupted now and then | by Sam, who was eager to pose as a hero also, and Mr. Sweet expressed himself as being well satisfied with their.behavior. “Chasing a thief and getting a whip- ping in the night, and then saving the lives of three people the next day is record enough for one week, so you’d better not try for any more adventures,” he said, with a laugh. Now that the incident of the previous night had been spoken of so openly, it | was necessary Sam’s curiosity should be satisfied, ee story. - While he was doing so, and severing to the oarsman’s comments, Teddy ha an opportunity to see the “barker” and clown who arrived that morning. Neither were very prepossessing-looking men; but they were lying on the ground some dis- tance from the boys, as if bent only on minding their own business, and there was no real reason for an unfavorable opinion concerning them. But little time was spent in conversa- tion’ on this evening. Every one was thor- oughly tired, and each sought for a soft spot on which to pass the night, As before, Sam crawled. up on the wagon to be out of harm’s way when the goat should be unfastened, while Dan and Teddy lay down in very nearly the same place as before. “T don’t fancy we shall hear many se- crets between now and morning, no mat- ter how many men come around here to talk,” the former said, laughingly: SG won’t take me two minutes to fall asleep, and the noise that can awaken me then will have to be very great.” Teddy’s only reply was a yawn, and in even less time than Dan had mentioned, he was wrapped inslumber. | Shortly after the proprietor of the ex- hibition began to make his preparations for retiring, and the clown asked: “How did that row start this after- noon?” : 7 “Half a dozen of the village toughs tried to get in without paying, and I had ba pera one of ’em off,” the barker re- plied. ’ ‘sao “You must have done it pretty quick, for when I got out there the thing was over,” Mr, Sruer said. “The fellow was more than half-drunk, an’ it wasn’ta very big job. They threaten to ee back and clean the whole show out.” “Yes, I’ve heard such threats made be- fore; but never lost much sleep worrying about it.” ' Ten minutes later all the human occu- pants of the tent were enjoying a well- earnéd rest, and the goat had about con- cluded it would be a profitless job to prospect for anything more to eat, when the sound of footsteps could have been heard from the outside. Had Mr. Sweet been awake he would have decided that these late visitors were trying to find the flap of the tent, for they walked cautiously around the canvas twice, and then a sharp knife was thrust through the fabric. An instant later Sam awoke his com- panions with a yell that would have done credit to any Indian. f Some one had given him such a blow as sent him from the seat to the ground, and the remainder of the party leaped to their feet only to be confronted by a large party of half-drunken toughs who had come to avenge the insult received during the afternoon. (TO BE CONTINUED.) An Extraordinary Beacon. HE most extraordinary of all light- }t? houses is to be, found on Arnish ¢ : Rock, Stornoway Bay—a_ rock which is separated from the Island of Lewis by a channel over five hundred feet wide. It isin the Hebrides, Scot- land. On this rock a conical beacon is erected, and on its summit a lantern is fixed, from which, night after night, shines a light which is seen by the fisher- men far and wide. Yet there is no burn- ing lamp in the lantern and no attendant ever goes to it, for the simple reason Dan was force { to tell the . that there is no lamp to attend to, no wick to. trim, and no oil well to replenish. The way in which this peculiar light- ‘house is illumiuated is this: On the Island of Lewis, five hundred feet or so away, is a light-house, and from a win- dow. in the tower a stream of light is projected on a mirror in the lantern on the summit of Arnish Rock. These rays ‘are reflected on to an arrangement of prisms, and by their action are converged to a focus outside the lantern, from which they diverge in the necessary di- | rection. | The consequence is that to all intents and purposes a light-house exists which has neither lamp nor light-house keeper, and yet which gives as serviceable a light—taking into account the require- iments of this locality—as if an elaborate and costly Pep bhouse, with lamp, ser- vice-room, bed-room, living-room, store- ‘room, oil-room, and water tanks, were erected on the summit of the rock, acres THE DWARF. WO boys may create a pile of fun 2 for the company by making up as a dwarf. Let one of them stand be- hind a table and place his hands on it, while the other stands behind the first and passes his arms around him, as | shown in Fig. 1. The head and body of the second boy and the legs of the first _ing for his hands across a wall. are hidden by curtains, which can casily be managed if the table is placed in a | door-way. Boots are then placed on the ‘hands of one of the boys, and a jacket put on over his shoulders and the arms of the , hidden player. Then, as will be seen in Fig. 2, an excellent imitation of a dwarf is thus formed. The face should be | disguised as much as possible, and the |dwarf may be dressed fantastically to |represent a Turk or Moor. To add to ‘the fun, a third person might act the part of showman and give a_ comic account of the dwarf’s history. Then the | freak might deliver a speech, appropriate 'yestures being made by the player who urnishes the arms. These are apt to be , ludicrous, as the second boy will proba- _bly have trouble in fitting his actions to the words of the first. The dwarf can dance and perform many remarkable feats, such as rubbing his head with his toe, or putting both feet in his mouth at once. Three bright boys can keep a room full of ‘company convulsed with laughter with this act, but it should be well re- hearsed beforehand. ———__~s-- 0 __——-__ Wuen, in conversing with any one, you see that he is keeping something ack, it, seems as though you were feel- CLIMBING. Cee ALBERT FE. HOOPER. To Alpine summit’s, o’er whose snowy peaks The smiling sky a dome of azure bends, The traveler his way with patience wends; To gain the highest point he bravely seeks. He casts no look upon the landscape fair, Which all around in peaceful beauty lies; But on the topmost height he keeps his eyes, Knowing a grander view awaits him there. Life is a winding way, which ever leads Up sunny slopes or mountain passes drear; By steps of virtue and by. noble deeds We each may breathe a purer atmosphere, In climbing upwards let us never tire, But live to daily take the one step higher, —__————-_ ~+-- 8 {This Story will not be Published in Book-Form, Capt. Garey of the Gallant mth Fighting the Indians at Pine Ridge. By Lieut. LIONEL LOUNSBERRY. Author of ‘Cadet. Carey,” “Lieutenant Carey’s Luck,” ‘Midshipman Merrill,” ete. -—— -4- (‘‘CaPraIn CAREY OF THE GALLANT 7TH” was com- menced in No. 44. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.] —_2—_—— CHAPTER XXXVI. WINNING THE “TWO BARS.” ENERAL MILES* slept, as did the great Napoleon, with one eye open, so to speak, for he was al- : ways awake to any call, the ar- rival of a scout, or courier at the agency, where his headquarters were located, and | ready to take the saddle at a moment's notice. So it was when an orderly told him that one of “Captain Carey’s scouts had arrived,” he was at, once ready to have him enter, though it was just before dawn of day. “Me Flying Fox, white captain’s good Indian. Come with talking paper to big | white chief,” said the redskin courier. “Where did you leave your captain, Flying Fox?” asked the general. “Over in Bad Lands,” “Ah! has he gone there?” “White captain no know afraid; he brave chief, go as medicine man into camp; come hack and give Flying Fox talking paper for big chief.” ; “When did you leave him?” “Six hours ago, big chief.” & The eared at once turned to the paper he held in his hand, and glanced rapidly over it. : Then he sent the orderly to request the presence of his adjutant-general, and that officer promptly put in an appear- ance. “Major. I have here a note from Carey, brought by Flying Fox here, who left him six hours ago in the Bad Lands. He states that Red Hatchet was really the cause of the trouble at Wounded Knee and escaped. That he went ona raid with thirty braves immediately after- ward and captured the daughter of Set- tler Vance’ Bernard, who has been so stubborn, against all urging and orders, to remain at his ranch. Red Hatchet es- caped to the Bad Lands with his captive, though pursued by Carey, and the latter unable to come up with him, and know- ing that an ambush awaited him, scat- tered his scouts, and disguising himself as a Brule medicine chief, entered the camps of the hostiles.” y “Carey is too reckless, and he’ll never escape, I feel sure, sir, without detec- tion,” the adjutant said. “Well, he came out of the retreat to write me this letter, and send it by his — redskin scout here, who tells me that he has a comrade in hiding at the place where Carey joined him and sent him from. Then Carey returned to the re- treat of the hostiles, but you see here is a full list of their forces, chiefs, warriors, — and women and children, and a descrip- tion of theircamp and its approaches. This is most valuable information, and wins for Carey a brevet captaincy, given on the field, until he can get his promo- tion. The eee girl, he says, is there, and Red Hatchet also, while he hints at a discovery which will be a surprise, and says that I may send his man back *General Miles is the youngest Major-General in | the army—the only Major-General who did not re- celve a military education. Heentered the Union army as a captain cf volunteers, but fought his way up to be a commissioned Major-General at the close of the war. Army of the Potomac, where he received three | wounds, one in the’throat—a. close call. . Custer was the youngest West Point Major-Generalin the army, yet. Custer did not graduate from the mili- tary academy. He entered the army somewhat under a cloud, as he went out in search of Indian = adventures, when he met the northern bands on the banks of the Little Big Horn. General Miles has the best record as an Indian fighter of any officer in the army and a splendid record in the _ din men and affairs, | He is a man of good Judgment and greatenergy. late war. He is well ve He was in every battle of the _ GooDpD NEWS. Sail again, and he will dispatch his other! to the moon, until that orb went down] the Indian soldier, who sat like a statue|and had the ambition to become head courier to-morrow night, or as soon after, behind the horizon. as possible, if he gleans other news, or In doing this there was method in the will come himself if he can eseape with | seeming madness of the fake medicine the settler’s daughter.” man, for he had discovered the position “Carey does, indeed, deserve his cap-' of the camps most completely, and all taincy, general, and I only hope he will that he cared to know about the strength live to get it,” said the adjutant. of the hostiles. After some further conversation upon the subject the general ordered the Indian soldier to be ready to start upon his re- turn to his white captain in time to get near the Bad Lands by nightfall, so as to gain the hiding-place unseen where his‘ Well rested and fed, and mounted upon a letter that he carried to the cavalry ofii- cer occurred these words: “Your indomitable pluck shown in. the execution of your perilous duties during this campaign thus far, allow me the, pleasure of appointing you in the field as! special scouting officer, with the rank of ; er Sete hen followed some instructions as to| the positions of the various forces, as a| guide to Captain Carey, should he need | quick aid from any one of the command- ers who were narrowing the circle about the hostiles’ retreat. The positions described were as follows, comrade was, and where Kit Carey was; possession the chiefs thought that to meet him. afresh horse, Flying Fox started upon | his return at the appointed hour, and in! He found out just where the young cap- tive was quartered, and he overheard enough, among a council of chiefs, to know that they were anxious to kill and scalp himself. With the scalp of Kit Carey in their it would bring them luck and teach their white foes the lesson that they were in earnest. In spite of his rank the Indians re- garded Kit Carey as holding a most im- Seer position in the army, for it was y his deeds that they knew him, and the fact that he commanded the Indian soldiers clustered about their lines. So it was decided to send out a young Brule warrior, bearing the very appropri- ate name of Not-Afraid-of-Death, to kill the white captain, or any other army officer that he might be able to lead into a trap. Having made the discovery that Not- Afraid-of-Death was to take the trail be- fore dawn, Kit Carey returned to the medicine lodge, and told the old chief jon his horse, awaiting the will of the | young officer. “TI wish I could get to speak to Casey ; and warn him off, for he is in great dan- ger of a shot from some hostile scout | lying in hiding; but I dare not make the attempt, for I would be seen, and that would end my career very quickly. But if I could only see him for half an hour’s talk, I would be able to explain much, which I cannot write—ah! he is going— no, he is riding nearer to the hostiles’ lines. Heaven grazt he be not sacrificed to his recklessness. Great God! it is as I feared! poor Casey has got his death wound, but his slayer shall never have his scalp!” and Kit Carey threw his rifle to his shoulder as he spoke, and pulled trigger as soon as his aim fell upon the Indian bounding forward to scalp the daring Casey, who had dropped dead from his horse at the fire from an Indian, who had suddenly risen from behind the ridge near him. At the shot from behind him Lieuten- ant Casey had thrown up his arms, and then fell. from his saddle as his horse wheeled and ran off, while the Indian soldier in alarm had also fled at full speed, The Indian bounding to secure thescalp of the young officer was Not-Afraid-of- Death, the Brule warrior, and he held his | chief. Two Strike was the one to open the council, and what he said fell with startling force upon all present, espec- ially upon Red Hatchet, whose eyes blazed furiously as he heard that the pow-wow was called to makea charge against him. The fact was Kit Carey, in his charac- ter of Moon Eyes, had poured poison into the ear of old Sun Gazer against Red Hatchet, He had found it impossible to geta word with Jennie Woodbridge without exciting suspicion, for every redskin was suspicious of another in that mixed as- semblage, and so he had tried to get pos- oFniee of the young girl by a very clever trick. So old Sun Gazer had been secretly in- formed that the moon revealed the fact to Moon. Eyes that there was a white maiden a captive in the camp, and held as a secret by a chief high in authority. After consulting his oracle Moon Eyes made known that Red Hatchet was the chief, and that he had captured the daughter of a pale-face, who was the firm friend of the Indians. All this was cunningly put, and old Sun Gazer at once was urged to report to Red Cloud. But as that chief was under a cloud he and to each commander word was sent to! that he was to “go into the shadows of be ready to obey a call from Captain; Sleep,” and not to be disturbed until he Carey, who was allowed discretionary | awoke after nightfall, for he was to see powers in requesting an advance from| what fortune the moon held for the In- scalping-knife in hand, while from hisjmade his report to Little Wound and any one column: eneral Carr, with nine troops of the Sixth Cavalry, one company of the Seven- teenth Infantry, and two Hotchkiss guns at the junction of Wounded Knee Creek | and White River;.Colonel Offley, with | two troops of the Highth Cavalry and six! companies of the Seventeenth Infantry, | will be on White River, about four miles | southwest of Big Grass Creek; Colonel | Sanford, with four troops of the Eighth Cavalry, four companies of the Second Infantry, and one Hotchkiss gun, will be at the junction of White Clay Creek and White River; Colonel Wheaton, with four troops of the Ninth Cavalry, four companies of the Second Infantry, and two Hotchkiss guns, will be on White River, three miles north of Lower Lime- Kiln Creek, and about eight miles from the hostile camp; Major Whitney, with three troops of the Ninth Cavalry and one company of the Eighth Infantry, will be on Wounded Knee Creek, a short dis- tance from the late battle-field; Captain Illsley, with four companies of the Seventh Cavalry, will be on lower Lime- Kiln Creek. So back to the daring young officer, who had dared take his life in his hands and enter the camp of. the hostiles, dis- pele as a medicine chief, though none new better than he the terrible tortures that would be inflicted upon him if he was discovered by the redskins. CHAPTER XXXVII. A SPY IN THE REDSKINS’ CAMP. 4 7 OW that the reader is aware that the pretended Brule medicine | Chief Moon Eyes, was none other | than Kit Carey, it will be-well to; watch his career in the camp of the red- skins. Speaking the language ashe did, ac- quainted with all their superstitions and customs, and utterly devoid of fear, he had decided upon the bold move he had entered upon not only to endeavor to} _Yescue Jennie Woodbridge from her merciless captor, but to discover all that | he could regarding the exact fighting’ force of the hostiles, their means of sub- . sistence, chances of holding out, and just how they were armed. He was also anxious to know if there’ was any move intended in force in a dash upon the settlements, the agency, or by ambushing one of the commands that were encircling them. As a Brule medicine man he could glean information without appearing to| seek it, and he knew that his safety lay | in not standing inspection in the broad | glare of day. | He had assumed the name of Moon! Eyes, pretending that only by night! should he be seen and attend to his du- | ties, and this gave him a chance to lie! hidden by day or rather keep within the shadow of his medicine tepee. The Sun Gazer was equally anxious to be about only by day, and the vindictive dians. Then he slipped again out of camp, and lips burst a triumphant war cry. But from afar off had come a white puff of smoke, a faint report of a rifle | followed, and then the sting of the bul- | let as it struck the Brule brave and bring- UA TELIA i Yi CII y ds , Lit GAY; WE i 7 iy wh! HALAL, Wf} Ha ie ’ Zee \ Nan / EM | 7 iy / WOM { ZH Wi, W yr | 4 AN NEY HH / a Wi A EB MG ( bd) Wir» a PEE! “poOR CASEY HAS GOT HIS DEATH WARRANT, BUT HIS SLAYER SHALL NEVER HAVE HIS SCALP !” AND KIT CAREX THREW HIS RIFLE TO HIS SHOULDER. went toa position some distance from the retreat, where Not-Afraid-of-Death was to start upon his trail for an officer’s scalp, his fondest desire being to raise the hair of Kit Carey. Having secured a point of look-out, the white captain lay in wait for future de- velopments, Along in the morning Not-Afraid-of- Death was visible scouting along a ridge, as though he saw an enemy, for his every movement indicated as much. He was a Brule, and with him was an Ogallala warrior, and the two ran ina crouching position to a certain point. Who they were watching Kit Carey could not see, for the ridge shut their in- tended victim from his sight. But soon after there rode into view an officer accompanied by an Indian scout. Quickly Kit Carey drew his glass from beneath his robe and turned it upon the officer, who sat upon his horse reconnoiter- ing the country before him. He gazed for a while through the glass, and then mut- tered : “It is that splendid fellow, Casey, of the Twenty-second Infantry, and who has a command of irregular cavalry. He is too daring to venture thus far into the old wretch lost no time in trying to fer- lines,” added the white captain, seeming ment trouble. Just who Moon Eyes was he did not know, but the stranger flattered the van- ity of the old medicine chief to such an extent that he was willing to swear by him to the end, Having returned from dispatching his courier to the general, Moon Eyes at once began to circulate all around the camps, still keeping up his incantations | to forget what he was then engaged in. Lieutenant. Casey still sat upon his horse some distance from where Kit Carey was in hiding, and his glass swept the country thoroughly, taking in the dust as it arose under the hoofs of some Indian rider, and noting the plateau and buttes beyond, where was the camp of the hostiles, Behind him was his sole companion, « Uf if , f i) | ( | ii j i 4 { ih YH Mt 2 u SX > S) — Two Strike, and the chiefs were promptly summoned to the council. All, excepting Red Hatchet, were-really startled by the tidings that there was a |captive in camp, and one who was the daughter of a man who had ever been the friend of the redskins. When the information had been given that a chief had brought her, then Two Strike demanded that the guilty one de- clare himself at once. Then Red Hatchet arose in his majesty, and said that he it was who had brought the captive there, and placed her in the ee of his mother. e said that she had been sent there by her people, to prevent her from running away with their worst foe, the white captain, the War Eagle, who was like a hound on the track of the Sioux. He asserted that the settler had shown his trust in his red friends, his love for his redskin brother, himself, by giving his daughter to his keeping, and that he preferred she should become the wife of a Sioux chief, rather than that of the pale- face soldier, their untiring enemy. The words of Red Hatchet made a de- cided impression, and he was not slow in discovering it, so went on to say that as the captive was there, if the chiefs thought best, she would be given into the keepin of Sun Gazer, the medicine chief, to hol until they should utterly crush their pale-face foes, when she was, as his, Red Hatchet’s wife, to become an adopted SS Ss ee SS RA AT Oa Ky i I N I Ns =, TF y y) Wee Wi are oH TANK be, ys by Ail Z Z ic ee, Ka 2. 5 ; 7, |ing him down as he ran, his rapid im- | petus causing him to roll over and over | again. | All day long the avenger watched the body of the young officer and his slayer, not daring to venture near, or leave his | hiding-place, and then, to his joy, he saw the Indian soldier come in sight, fol- lowed by a party of cavalry, and, dashing up to the spot, carry off the body of the | officer, while the Cheyenne scout quickly removed the scalp of the dead Brule, | though he could give no account of his | killing. And then, as the evening shadows be- 'gan to lengthen, the disguised officer |! made his way back toward the retreat of the hostiles, to once more play the dar- ing role of spy in the hostile camp. —— CHAPTER XXXVIII. HOPE AND DESPAIR. SPNHERE was a grand pow-wow of } “ chiefs in the camp of the hostiles, though old Red Cloud, his loyalty doubted by many, and held against his will, was not allowed to be there. | The two “garmols,” Kicking Bear and Short Bull, had called the council, to |make a report which Sun Gazer, the | medicine chief, had urged during the day of what should be known, as it was for | the good of all. | There were present in the council lodge the well-known Chiefs Little Wound, Two Strike, Big Road, Big Turkey, He Dog, High Pipe, Lone Wolf, No Water, jand at last in stalked Red Hatchet, who was fast coming to the front as a leader, daughter of their tribe. | This the chief agreed, to, and so it was ithat Kit Carey’s plot met with success ithus far, as Jennie Woodbridge was | taken to the tepee of the medicine chief, | where no warrior dare enter under pen- |alty of death. But it so happened that Kit Carey had his eyes open to what was going on, and he saw the captive taken there by Two Strike and Little Wound, and as old Sun Gazer was asleep, he, Moon Eyes, was bidden to guard her securely, which he most faithfully promised to do. Poor Jennie did not understand this change, from the care of the Chief Red Hatchet’s mother, to that of the medi- cine man, and was dreading some terri- ble fate, when the flap of the tepee was raised, and| she heard a voice say in a whisper: “Do not distress yourself, Miss Ber- nard, for you have one near to serve ou.” , “Who are you?” cried Jennie, hardly believing what she heard could be true. “Tam known in the army register as Captain Carey, Miss Bernard; but in the hostiles’ camp I am supposed to be Moon Eyes, a Brule medicine chief.” “Oh, what peril you are in!” came in almost a moan from the lips of the young girl. ; “TI think not as much as you suspect; but cheer up, and be ready to take ad- vantage of anything that may occur to aid your escape. I need not urge you to retain your presence of mind, for you have a wonderful nerve—good-night !” and the pretended medicine man was gone, leaving Jennie Woodbridge in a flutter of excitement, and bordering be tween hope and despair. CHAPTER XXXIX. RED HATCHET’S REFUSAL. HPAHE poor girl had hope with such the afriend near as was Kit Carey, Y3h) and then came the knowledge of Ce all the danger he was in, what would follow discovery of who he was, and her dread for him was even B22 GooDnp NEWS. greater than for herself, and it seemed that in spite of her nerve and his dauntless courage despair would creep into her breast. There had been a fight with the soldiers up near the Pine Ridge Agency, and some dead and wounded warriors had been brought into the retreat, throwing the camps into a tumult of excitement. Then came an attack of the Sioux upon @ wagon train passing near their lines, and, though they had felt sure of victory, a party of cavalry had come to the res- cue, saved the Government stores and the lives of the defenders of the wagons, and beaten off the Sioux. That Not-Afraid-of-Death had killed his man the chief knew, and the simi- larity in the name caused them to rejoice that Lieutenant Carey, the white cap- tain, had been killed, though they re- gretted that his scalp had not been se- -¢eured by the redskins, who, from a dis- tance, had seen the killing, yet dared not venture out to secure the trophy. Who in turn had killed Not-Afraid-of- Death was a mystery which no one could solve, though the szouts reported that it was one of the officer’s Indian soldiers lying in ambush. “That the cavalry had made a dash in and recovered the body of the lieutenant, was also deeply regretted by the hostiles. In the midst of all the tumult, follow- ing into camp had come a horseman, who was known to be a pale-face in disguise. He made no secret of the fact, gave a name which the Indians recognized as that of a friend, and asked to see Red Hatchet. That chief was called out of the council to speak with the stranger, and regarded him with evident suspicion as he ap- _ proached him. '~ “Red Hatchet, Iam here to take back with me my sister, for I am White Hawk.” The Red Hatchet knew him now by the name the Indians had given him, for it was Herbert Bernard. “The Snow Flower is safe with her In- ', dian friends, and will remain. She is in “the keeping of the medicine chief,” was the response of the Red Hatchet. _ “No, she must return with me to her home, for my father, Eagle-that-Kills, has sent me for the Snow F lower.” “The Snow Flower is in the medicine tepee, and when she leaves there it will be as the adopted daughter of the Sioux. She cannot go with the White Hawk,” - was the rejoinder of the Red Hatchet. - Herbert Bernard crushed an oath be- tween his teeth, and had he not counted the result would have sprang upon the Indian chief then and there. But instead he said: “Tg the Red Hatchet no longer the friend of the Eagle-that-Kills, and of the _ White Hawk, that he acts like a foe and - steals from them the Snow Flower whom they love so dearly?” m _ “The Red Hatchet did not steal the Snow Flower, for the White Hawk told - him to bring her here, and she came without force, for she loves the Sioux, and her heart is given to Red Hatchet!” The right hand of Herbert Bernard dropped upon-a revolver, but he wisely did not draw it. v He was wholly in the power of the _ Red Hatchet, and he felt anxious at his osition even among those who were his - friends, for toward the Bernards the - Sioux had certainly shown no enmity. “Will the Red Hatchet let the White Hawk see the Snow Flower?” he asked. “No, for the Snow Flower is in the medicine tepee, and no one can see her.” . “The Red Hatchet isa traitor to bis _ friend,” was the reply of the young set- tler, as he turned on his heel and walked away, the chief uttering no word, or re- monstrance. As he had come, so he left the camp of _ the hostiles, mounted his waiting horse, ~ and returned by night to his home with- out seeing an Indian scout or soldier, and if seen by any one, he was not dis- turbed. _. It was just dawn when he reached his home, and having washed off his paint - and resumed his civilized garb, he sought his father. _ The latter seemed to feel that he had been unsuccessful, for he asserted rather than asked: Sa s You came back alone?” “The ‘Red Hatchet would not give her “You saw him?” : “tT did, and he refused. ; “You saw Jennie?” “No, for she was in lodge.” — _ “Ah! that lopks bad; but it shows that the Red Hatchet intends she shall not be eee: but made a daughter of the the medicine “So he said.” ie “Well, did you find out that the red fools intend to fight?”, . “Tf was so disappointed that I asked nothing, returning at once,” pe “Well, that affair at Wounded Knee has infuriated the soldiers. Sitting Bull, their head, has gone, they have had a fight at the ageney, attacked a train and were beaten off, and they killed that fellow Carey——” “Ha! is Kit Carey dead?” cried Herbert Bernard, eagerly. “Yes, he ventured too near their lines, a courier told me, and was killed.” ‘ “T am glad of that.” “Yes, it puts him out of your way asa rival; but possession is nine points of the law, and Red Hatchet has Jennie in his power, and the fool believes that the red- skins will whip the soldiers.” “All of them do, and their medicine men tell them that the ghost shirts will render them bullet proof.” “Fools! poor deluded fools! But I must get the girl, and, perhaps, I can per- suade the chief to bury the hatchet—yes, it would be better so, for Miles knows what he is about and has got them hemmed in completely, and if the soldiers attack they will remember Custer and his men, and show no mercy—yes, and avenge Kit Carey, too, for he was the most popular officer in the army,” said Vance Bernard, believing that it was Kit Carey who had been killed, as did the Sioux themselves, and also many in the army. “Well, can you rescue Jennie?” im- patiently asked the young man. “Yes, and I will go to-night and do so,” was the confident response of the settler. (TO BE CONTINUED.) ——-——2-e [This Story will not be Published in Book-Form.] d OR, THE ROYAL AMPHITHEATRE, —-+-- ; By WALTER MORRIS. Author of ‘Joe the Call-Boy,” ‘“‘The Clown’s Pro- tege,” “Kirk Sheldon’s Mine,” etc. pa ae _ (“SLAVES OF THE Circus” was commenced in No. 45. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.) CHAPTER XV. THE DANGER SIGNAL, 7 N answer to Neal’s knock, a tall, not } unkindly looking farmer opened the door, and his surprise at seeing two children at such an hour was so great as to make him forget the rules of ordinary hospitality, for instead of invit- ing them to enter, he stood in. open- mouthed astonishment until Neal asked, timidly: “Can we stay here all night?” “Wa’al, Ireckon so. Mother an’ me ain’t quite such heathens as to turn two youngsters away at this late hour.” “We haven’t got any money with us,” Neal said, thinking it best that the finan- cial arrangements should be understood at once; “but we can send some after getting back to the circus.” “What? What’s that?” the farmer asked, and his wife’s curiosity was so aroused that she joined him at the door to look at the “circus people ;” but, on seeing two such ones, she said, kindly: “Come in. Father will let you stay whether you’ve got money or not.” Thus invited, Neal led June into the kitchen, where they stood as if both were living curiosities on exhibition. The farmer took his glasses from the table, and after gazing through them at his visitors fully a moment in silence, he asked : i: “What was it you said about a circus? Do you mean to tell me youtwo are show folks?” “We travel with the Royal Amphi- theater,” Neal replied, not feeling ex- actly certain how this information might be received, “and want to stay some- where all night.” “T reckon there won’t be any trouble about that. What do you calculate on doin’ to-morrow mornin’ ?” “We are going to Stockton.” “Stockton?” the farmer exclaimed. “How do you count on gettin’ there?” “We shall have to walk, if the party we came with doesn’t get back in time,” Neal replied, in a matter-of-fact tone. “How far is it?” “A good deal farther than you can walk in one day. They call it twenty-three miles from Berry’s blacksmith shop; but I reckon it’s nigh on to twenty-five or six. What brought you out this way?” Neal made no reply. : He could not explain the matter so it would be thoroughly understood by his host, and he pretended not to hear the question, / Besides, be had something in addition to the danger to be. apprehended from Thomas, in his mind just then, Lice ten A The knowledge that he and June were so far from their friends almost fright- ened him, for he had long since aban- doned the hope that Mrs. Wilson would be able to return by the same route. “Can’t we get this man _ to carry us to Stockton?” June whispered, and a look of relief.came over Neal’s face, as he asked quickly: “How much would you charge to drive us over to the show?” “Why, father, you couldn’t think of going,” the farmer’s wife said, in a very decided tone. “With all the work on hand a journey of fifty miles is certainly out of the question.” “Waal, I’m not so certain about that,” the old gentleman replied. “I’m _ willin’ to do almost anything, if I can get my price for it, an’ then again, Jane, we might see the show. We ain’t been to the circus since that man passed a lead quarter on me.” “How much would you charge?” Neal repeated. After several moments of deep reflec- tion the farmer replied, in a musing tone: “If we want to get there in any kind of time to see what’s goin’ on we oughter start pretty soon, an’ I reckon ten dol- ai wouldn’t be too much for sich a long jo eu “Give it to him,” June whispered, eagerly. “If he goes now we'll be sure to get away from Mr. Thomas.” eal would have been only too glad to ay the money; but, unfortunately, he 1ad not so much as a single penny. “Mr. Howe will pay the ten dollars, and you shall have it just as soon as we arrive in Stockton.” “Suppose the owner of the show won’t hold to the trade?” “He will,” Neal replied, earnestly. “You may be just as certain of it as if I put the money in your hand this minute.” Then he explained that they were per- formers who would be needed at the next exhibition, making a reasonably’ good argument to prove why the proprietor would be willing to pay such an amount for the required service, When he finished speaking, and June had added her promises, the farmer called his wife into the next room where they probably held a discussion as to the ad- visability of accepting the offer. At the expiration of five minutes the old gentleman returned to say: “We'll take your word for the money, although it’s kinder UeS) Mother’s gone to get ready, an’ I reckon we'll be startin’ in about half an’ hour; but it’!] go mighty hard with your circus man, if ain’t paid for the job.” Neal assured him over and over again that there was no danger of refusal on Mr. Howe’s part to fulfill the contract, and, td the great delight of the fugitives they were on the road once more within an hour, riding in a reasonably comfort- able farm-wagon drawn by two horses, The only thing whiclY troubled either Neal or June was the whereabouts of Mrs. Wilson; they hada long consulta- tion while the farmer was making ready for the ride, but without arriving at any satisfactory conclusion, save that some one would be sent in search of her imme- diately after Mr. Howe heard their story. The journey was a long one; but not as tedious as many others Neal had made. He and June could lie on the floor of the cart, which was quite as good a bed as the box of a canvas wagon, and they were yet asleep when the farmer reined in his horses, as he said: “T reckon this is your circus hauled up alongside the road.’ June and Neal] were on their feet in an instant, and both would have leaped out of the wagon had not the driver prevented them by saying argg hy “Now, see here; I ain’t goin’ to run any chance of losing them ten dollars by lettin’ you leave me. Jest stick to the wagon till we see the boss, and then the whole thing will be settled, or I’ll know the reason why.” Neal dropped back in the seat and di- rected the farmer to drive slowly along until he saw Mike sleeping on one of the carts. Fortunately the sword-swallower hap- | pened to have the necessary amount of money in his pocket, and _ five minutes later the matter was settled to the satis- faction of all concerned; but more par- ticularly was the farmer pleased, since he had in his pocket an order from Sig- nor Fausta for two passes to the show. To find the proprietor and the ring- master was not a difficult matter at this time in the morning, and the story of the flight and return was soon told. Mr. Wilson expressed no uneasiness re- garding his wife’s safety. He was quite positive she would suc- ceed in reaching Stockton during the day, however much time might be spent in hunting for the fugitives in the. vi- cinity of the place where she had parted with them. ; ‘ bine A “A woman who has traveled a dozen or fifteen years with a circus isn’t likely to be lost,” he said. “The main question for us to settle is how we shall get rid of Sim Thomas, for by this time he must know you gave him the slip, and we can count on seeing him very soon now.” On this point Mr. Howe had no misgiv- ings, ur, at least, pretended to have none. “T have written ahead to an attorney,” he said, in his usual pompous manner, “and don’t think we will have much more trouble with the scoundrel. If he comes fooling around the tents to-day I shall have him arrested on any charge that can be trumped up, and in case he doesn’t give us that chance he hasn’t got oe enough to follow the show very ong. Mr. Wilson suggested that his wife would keep him supplied, and the pro- prietor of the circus replied very con- fidently that there need be no fear of such a contingency, which was much the same as if he had said he did not fintend to pay her the full amount of wages due. With their minds thus set at rest con- cerning all which had given them so much uneasiness, Neal and June went into the ladies’ carriage, while the at- taches of the Royal Amphitheater con- tinued the preparations for the parade. One look at Mrs. Thomas when the young members of the company entered would have satisfied the most obtuse that she was cognizant of her husband’s attempt to gain possession of June. She made no remark, however, and the new-comers remained silent, not daring to speak of their misadventures in the presence of one whom they had good reason to believe was an enemy. To their surprise and joy, on alighting from the carriage they were met by Mrs. Wilson, and her portion of the adventure was quickly told. _. She had continued straight up the ap- parently abandoned road fully five miles from the spot where the .fugitives sepa- rated, closely followed by Thomas. Upon arriving at a country hotel, with the horse absolutely unable to travel a mile farther, she halted, and then Sim discovered for the first time that she was alone, The ex-hostler did not dare to make any demonstrations against her; but con- tented himself with saying to his com- panion in a tone sufficiently loud for her’ to hear, that he would not allow Jacob Howe to deprive him much longer of his daughter’s services. Here Mrs, Wilson learned that Stock- ton was fifteen miles away, and when it was possible to continue the journey she drove on, intending to send some one back from the show to look for Neal and — June, since she did not think it advisable to return by the same road she went. “But where is Sim now?” Neal asked. “He was at the hotel when I left. and I don’t fancy he will show his head here for some time to come.” During the remainder of the day mat- ters went on much as if there was no an- ticipation of trouble on the part of any one connected with the Royal Amphi- theater. The tent was crowded at the afternoon performance; June and Neal rode side by side in the grand entree; Mademoiselle’ Jeanette did her act gayly, as if she had no such thing as a conscience, and Beauty was exhibited; but her youthful trainer did not enter the cage because of the ex- press and decided prohibition by Mike. The evening show passed off in a simi- lar manner to the one given in the after- arations for the noon. Then came the pre night journey, and by that time a!l be- lieved that the attempt to spirit June away had been abandoned in the face of the bold stand taken by her friends. The only man connected with the cir- cus who had any fault to find was Mr. Bassett, and his complaint was concern- ing the unusual number of loungers who stood around the enclosure, very close to the workmen, while the canvas was being taken down. June remained in the Jarge tent until Neal came for her, and the two went toward the ladies’ carriage without a thought of danger. Nothing had been seen or heard of Sim Thomas, and his wife was so quiet that the most suspicious could not have an- ticipated danger. On leaving the tent at the point where the carriage was drawn up, Neal stepped forward a few paces to open the door of the vehicle, and as he did so three or four dark forms appeared from out of the gloom, causing bim to turn his head just as a stifled shriek burst from June’s lips. In another instant the attaches of the Royal Amphitheater were startled by hearing Neal shout frantically as he dashed after a small party of men who were running across the exhibition grounds: : “Help! help! Sim Thomas is carrying - June away!'Rube! Rube!” 5 As the shibboleth of the cireus mén_ rang out clear and sharp above the noise, every employee of the Royal Amphi- | theater rushed toward Neal, and he shouted again: | “They are carrying June away! quick, or they’ll get off!” . The night was not so dark but that Sim Thomas and his friends could readily be distinguished as they ran across the va- cant portion of the lot, and in a few sec- onds fifteen or twenty men were in close ursuit, among the leaders of whom was ike. Come CHAPTER XVI. A NIGNOMINIOUS RETREAT, EALIZING that he would soon be over-taken, Thomas made one des- s\ perate effort to retain possession « ~ of the girl. Tarning sharply at right angles he dashed toward the villagers who had been watching the departure of the show, and cried: “The circus men are trying to steal my daughter! Help us or they’li succeed! I have worked nearly a year to get her, and unless some one interferes she will be lost to me forever !” ' Such an appeal as this was well calcu- lated to enlist the sympathies of the spectators, and they formed a circle around the alleged would-be abductors, meeting the rush of the pursuers with the evident determination to aid the ap- parently distressed father. ; Mike had outstripped his companions, and wishing to avoid a rough-and-tumble fight, he halted within a few feet of the crowd, as he shouted: “That man is not the girl’s father! For the last three or four days he has been tryin’ to stale her away from us! Ask the child herself for the truth of the story !” June made no reply for the good reason that Sim Thomas held her tightly in his arms as if through excess of affection, while he covered her mouth with his hand so that she could make no outery. For an instant Sim’s newly-discovered adherents wavered, and then as no word came from the girl they closed in deter- minedly, while Bassett, who had just ar- rived, shouted: “Take her away from that villain and let her speak! Can’t you see he’s pre- venting her from saying anything?» We don’t want a row in this town; but if you persist in helping that drunken hos- tler steal the child we shall do our level best to protect her, Stand aside now, or it will be so much the worse for all hands!” Then, turning to the canvasmen, he added: “Come, boys, don’t let any- thing stop you!” ; The circus men were armed with heavy iron-shod. stakes, and the villagers soon realized how useless would be any resist- ance, To run the risk of a blow on the head from any one of those formidable weapons was more than they cared to doin a quar- rel, the cause of which they were not fully informed; therefore Sim’s week- kneed defenders immediately beat an un- opts retreat. Mr. Thomas had calculated on bringing about a general riot, during the excite- ment of which he cou!d manage to make his escape. Now that this hope was gone he turned to flee with the others; but Mike and Bassett were a trifle too quick for him. The former seized June as the latter struck the villain a stinging blow on the GOOD NEWS. mighty good care he ain’t in condition to chase this show agin.” As he finished speaking the Irishman turned to retrace his steps, as if consider- ing the matter settled, and Mr. Howe called after him: “But, signor, there must be no question about your being on hand to appear in to-morrow afternoon’s performance,” “Tyust me for that, I’l1l be there whin I’m wanted,” and the sword-swallower vanished in the gloom, while June, who had been taken charge of by Neal when Mr. Howe stopped the party, cried: “Be careful of yourself, signor, and come on early in the morning.” “I'll be close behind yez, mavourneen,” was the reply, and Bassett said in a low tone to the proprietor: “Mike's plan is a good one. We can’t be forever guarding the girl against that scoundrel, and I’ll trust the Irishman for settling him.” “I hope he’ll succeed,” Mr. Howe re- plied, as if relieved because some one other than his precious self was to take charge of the ex-hostler, and then he added in a business-like tone: “Hurry up now, and get ready for the road; we've lost too much time already. Start each team off as soon as it is loaded, and send a couple of the men back to the ladies’ carriage with Neal and June.” few minutes later matters were in the same condition they would have been had Sim Thomas not made his appear- ance. The wagons were being filled, the car- riages hauled out into the road, and the tents were fading away as if melting be- fore the scores of flaming torches, which were placed at irregular intervals all over the tenting ground. In the ladies’ carriage Neal gave Mrs, Wilson the particulars of the last attempt to steal June, and, as a matter of course, Mrs. Thomas could hear all that was said; but she made no comments. The dwarf had not availed himself of his alleged medical knowledge to ride with the ladies, since having brought the suit against Mr. Howe. Learning that the proprietor did not consider him such a valuable curiosity, the little man had been in a prolonged fit of the sulks, and would not allow him- self to be approached in a friendly way by any member of the company. Mrs. Wilson told the youthful perform- ers that the giant had said to her ina tearful tone that he actually feared his life would be taken by the marvel of the nineteenth century, and it amused them not a little that so huge a man should be afraid of such a tiny specimen of human- ity. Yi had been -confidently expected by all that Mike would make his appearance at a very early hour next morning; but when the tents were erected, and every- thing ready for June’s lesson, the sword- swallower had not yet arrived, which caused Mr. Howe the greatest mental anxiety. Neal felt more distressed than any one except June, and urged Mr. Wilson to telegraph or send a special messenger back to the last town. “Mr. Howe will take care of that,” the ring-master replied, calmly. “He can’t afford to lose Mike, and you needn't. be afraid but that every thing possible will be done to ascertain the cause of his ab- sence, or to aid him if he is in trouble.” Neal was by no means satisfied with 823s traces of sorrow and vexation had disap- peared from her face. While Mr. Wilson was directing the removal of the bar Mr. Howe entered the tent looking very much disturbed. “Tg your pupil making any progress?” he asked, abruptly. “She’s doing finely. In another week I shal] put her on for a short act.” “Well, something must be done at once. Mrs. Thomas asked for money this morning; but knowing she wanted it for her husband, I refused. She has given notice of her intention to leave at the-end of the week, and, despite the fact that at least, twenty telegrams have been sent to different portions of .the country, I have not been able to hire another lady rider.” ‘ you owe her any money?” Mr. Wilson asked. “No; she is the only member of the company who has drawn money in ad- vance, and it was necessary to give it or take chances of her leaving.” “Then don’t fret. Run the risk of her staying six days longer. Get out bills for the ‘Infant Prodigy,’ and I’ll engage to have June ready at the end of that time.” (TO BE CONTINUED.) ——__~— eo —___—- How. Elks Grow Horns. 1 ITH the loss of the antlers the A stag changes his disposition en- tirely and becomes as docile and tractable as a lamb. He remains in this condition of temper until the beginning of March, when he shows a disposition to lurk in sequestered spots of the glen and timidly avoid the presence even of his kind. During this period, on the spot where the antlers were, a pair of protuberances will make their appearance, covered with a soft, dark, velvety skin. These will attain a considerable growth in a few days. The carotid arteries of these protuberances -will enlarge with them in order to supply a sufficiency of nourishment, When the antlers have attained their full growth, which will be in ten weeks after the old ones have been shed, the bony rings at the base through which the antlers pass will begin to thicken, and radually filling up will compress the lood vessels and ultimately obliterate them. The velvety skin that surrounds the bone being thus deprived of nourishment will lose its vitality and will be rubbed off in shreds by the stag on the edges of rocks or other hard substances. As soon as the full size of the antlers is attained, the docile disposition of the elk will disappear, and he will become once more for the year the fierce and un- friendly king of the glen. The age of the elk, according to writers on natural history, is computed by the number of points on the antlers. Se You can only be witty when those around you are witty, too. The cock crows in vain to the ducks; they do not understand him. EXCHANGE DEPARTMENT. {ImpPoRTANT.—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, nor exchanges of fire-arms, explosive, dangerous, or worthless articles. If per notices do not appear in a reasonable time, it may understood that they were not accepted. Address_all communications for this column to “Exchange De- partment.”] ——_+——— MAGIC LANTERN.—Louis F. Bort, Manchester, Iowa, has a magic lantern with slides, and a book on magic to exchange for a pair of fencing foils, or ajsmall type-writer. ELECTRIC BELL.—J. ¥F. Stewart, ‘care of L. Ham- mel & Co., Mobile, Ala., has an electric bell, and a pair of skates to exchange for two Crow-foot batteries in good condition. BOYS’ PAPERS.—W. J. Parker, Rochester, N. Y., has a volume of boys’ papers to exchange for the first eigh- teen numbers of GooD NEws with binder and binding | pins. READING MATTER.—William Lehnert, 1419 East Eager St., Baltimore, Md:, has reading matter to ex- change for a small steam engine. MAGIC LANTERN.—Chas. D. McCreary 105 Sheango St., New Castle, Pa., has a magic lantern with fif slides, a doll rack B netting, trunks, etc., to exchange for best offer. CIGARETTE ALBUMS.—Paul Porter, 109-6 N Washington, D. C., hi change for Goop NEws from No. 1 to No. 28. GAMES.—Jobn D. Day, 105 Washington St., Pitts- - burg. Pa., has games, books, three GooD News Lr RIEs, Goop News from;No 1 to No. 40, and three vol- umes of boys’ papers to exchange for an electric bell ; and battery, printing press, or best offer. GOOD NEWS.—Frank J. Kennedy, 1359 Washington St., Boston, Mass., has Goop News from No. 1 to No. 33, ; a lot of other boys’ papers, and two albums to exchange ; for best offer. STAMP COLLECTOR’S DIRECTORY.—F. J. Stan-- . Y., has several copies of a twenty-five : cent stamp collector’s directory to exchange. One copy - ton, Smyrna, N for square cut envelope stamps of any kind. fully prepaid. BILLIARD TABLE.—Walter C, Foote Send ‘304 Webster Ave., Chicago, Ill, has a parlor billiarditable, with come - plete outfit, to exchange for a self-inking press and . outfit. ALBUMS.—T. Schrauer, 212 East a4th St., New York. ._ has a picture album, and astamp album, with stamps, . to exchange for Goop News from,No. 1 to No. 30. BOYS’ PAPERS.—Louis Levene, care of J. W. Cald- - well, 248 Canal St., New York, has boys’ papers to ex- change for best offer. BOYS’ PAPERS.—Robert J. Kennedy, 35 West Second ! St., South Boston, Mass., has thirty-seven numbers of ° boys’ papers to exchange for the first thirty-seven . numbers of GooD NEws. PRINTING OUTFIT.—Carl E. Moffatt ’s3 issue, without cents, three Goon Nos. 1, 6, and 9 cent books for best offer of stamps. News Lisr MAGIC LANTERN.—F. M. Howard, Belle Vernon, , Pa., has a magic lantern and views to exchange for a » set of boxing-gloves in good condition. R N. J., has reading ‘matter to exchange for best offer. Send for list. , LIBRARIES\—Harry Van Nest, Peabody, Kans., has : libraries to exchange for best offer. CIGARETTE PICTURES.—L. C. Fisher, Milton, Fla., » pictures and novels to exchange for Goop has cigaret News from No, 13 to No. 17 inclusive, and No. 30 to No. 34 inclusive. CIGARETTE SLIPS.—A. Scharps, 3 Catharine St. . Newburgh, N. Y., has cigarette sli pictures, and bums to exchange for a punching-bag or best offer. TYPEWRITER.—Wm. J. Hanlon, 186 West 41h St., . New York, has a typewriter, zither, hat-rack, and a. magic lantern to exchange for a banjo, or a concer- tina. } ICE-SKATES.—C. W. Schultze, 219 East 89th St., New - York, has ice-skates, one pair of drum sticks, afife, and reading matter to exchange for best ‘offer jof -printing- —_ . press, or camera prefe BOYS’ PAPERS.—John Hensel Springfield, Ohio, has boys’ papers to exchange emery wheel about five or six inchesin diameter. Send stamp for reply. READING MATTER.—Edward Trueman, 1354 Pal- mer St., Philadelphia, Pa., has reading matter, stamps, . and articles to exchange for a good banjo, or anything’ useful. BOYS’ PAPERS.—Morris Wolf, 124 East 108th St; New with twenty dolls, 175 feet of rope, . aad as four cigarette albums to ex-- RA- - 1 tt, Winsted, . Conn., will exchange a printing outfit, a “V” nickel, . and two of Street & Smith’s twenty-five : EADING MATTER.—Chauncey 8. Patrick, Elmer, . 110 Factory St.,. or an York, has boys”papers, U. 8. and foreign stamps, books, ._ and Goop News to exchange for best offer in City offers only. BOYS’ PAPERS.—W. R. Callen, 25 Bruce St., Newark, books {to » N. J., has boys’ papers, cigarette albums, and exchange for a pair of opera-glasses, ks, Or papers. his, He could do nothing more than wait, however, and instead of remaining in the ring while June was practicing, he went to the very edge of the tenting grounds, where he stood on guard the entire fore- noon, On this day the swinging-bar was put up, the horse brought in without saddle}: or pad, and the little pupil received her MAGIC LANTERN.—A. Collins, 109 Hayes St., San: Francisco, Cal., has a magic lantern to exchange for- _ Goop News from No. 1 to No 28 in good condition. ; POCKET PRINTING OUTFIT.—Jas. L. N. Channell, . Pinegrove, Pa., has a pocket printing outfit to exchange - for best offer of Bin ties, or stamps, also an elegant. — portrait of base-ball players, 9x32 inches, suitable for i framing, to exchange for best offer of tin-tays. asa POSTMARKS.—E. Zimmer, 105 East 53d St., New es nae 500 United States postmarks to exchange for ‘ ost offer. STAMP CARDS.—Herman Sturmer, 412 Eight Ave... jaw, and followed it up with such a pun- ishment as would probably disable the alleged father from appearing in public for many days to come. The men whom Sim had brought to aid him Seep PERC so suddenly that not one could be seen an instant after the first rush, and the circus employees re- ' turned to the encampment feeling assured that no further attempt at stealing would be made for some time. ial. pains, when the alarm was first iven, not to overtake his men while they might be engaged in a hand-to-hand struggle; but he met Mike and Bassett as they were returning from the fray, and asked nervously: “What did you do with Thomas?” “We left him,” the canvasman replied, grimly, “and I guess he’ll stay there some little time. Unless he’s got a thicker head than I ever saw before, he won't do much traveling for the next We Wie hase sre h -“We must prefer a charge against him. If that is not done he will gee out a war- rant for one or both of you in the next town, and so arrange it that you'll be kept back after the show leaves. There's no knowing; when we shall be able to rid ourse] ves of the scoundrel, and yet I hate to om Buy time.” : “How far is it to’ the next stoppi place?” Mike asked. bor terete “Only twelve miles.” “Thin lave me behind, an’ I’ll fix the spalpeen, if it’s arrestin’ him you're after. In addition to that, I'll take The worthy Mr. Howe had taken espec-. first instruction in bare-back riding. It is not to be supposed that she did anything very remarkable in the way of advancement. More than once she would have fallen had it not been for the watchfulness of Bassett, who took charge of the rope at- tached to her waist, and before Mr. Wil- son annnounced that the lesson was ended she was ready to cry with vexation. “Tam not learning at all,” she said, when the horse was stopped for a mo- ment to give her an opportunity for rest. “T don’t think any one could ever be as awkward as I am to-day.” “Tt’s not to be expected, my dear, that you’re going to ride like Mademoiselle }. Jeanette at the very first trial,” the ring- master said, laughingly. “You are the most promising pupil I ever had, and if you don’t get discouraged I'll guarantee that in six more lessons you will be able to stand on the horse without the aid of a strap, besides knowing how to save yourself from injury in case -of a fall, | wee is more important than anything else.” | ; June was so much encouraged by these words that she succeeded far better dur- ing the remainder of the hour, and when the lesson was brought to a close all “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 GooD News an account x the deed which entitles one to wear this emblem of ,eroism. : 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 00d cause. : : The existence of this society dates from May, a and notice cannot be taken for heroic acts perform 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 aboye, write ont a full history of the event, and have it witn and signed by three responsible citizens, and a ry public of the town or city, where it happened. . he medal is intended for life-savers only. --->~* New York, has eighty-three Duke’s stamp cards to ex-- change for best offer. BOYS’ PAPERS.—J. Weisser, Box 235 Independence, , Mo., has boys’ Pi vers, ten novels, a pair of skates, clamp, two cloth-' music, for harp, to exchange for a typewriter. State offers only. und books, and eleven sheets of” FOOT-BALL.—A. ©. Vandiver, Talladega, Ala., has a. thirty inch rubber foot-ball to tion of stamps. All letters answered. CIGARETTE PICTURES.—Walter Lippert, 694 Ra™- cine Ave., Chicago, Ill, has cigarette {pictures of allt sort to exchange for best offer. All letters answered. MAGIC LANTERN.—Fred C, Sincock, Hancock, . exchange for a collec-- A Mich., has a magic lantern, amateur base-ball mask, a: a four draw telescope; and a pocket compass to ex: for a self-inking printing press and outfit. STAMP ALBUM.—George F. Loveder, Jr., 519 Fourth: Ave, Clinton, Iowa, has a son8 et and pee éeplechase an: aSe~ - tion of stamps, alsoa game of § ball to Siahans® for any kind of brass instrument. A cornet or alto horn preferred. . cago, DL, has books and libraries to exchange for offer. Send for list. x BOOKS.—Walter F. Lechert, 832 Milwaukee Ave., Chis BICYCLE.—C: W. Noel, 41 Woodland Ave. Canton, Ohio, has a forty-five inch bicycle, silverin base-ball a best offer. nd bat, old coins, and books to exchange for GOOD NEWS.—Arthur Pelton, Castile, N. ¥., has: Goop NEws to exchange for best offer. ~PIGEONS.—Raymond Corey, Pemberton, N. J., has> ooded tumbler pigeons exchange for a watch, . Marlin,. full-bl or offers. / ; PRINTING OUTFIT,—Clemens McMillon Tex., has a printing press with outfit, one fo: and a magic lantern, all in good order, to ex best offer. : s e watch,. t oS Re: ¥ ' » GoonDypD NEWS. > : . e Saw ost STORES pea ISSUED WEEKLY. W. B. Lawson, Editor. NEW YORK, APRIL 25, 1891, Terms to Mail Subscribers: (POSTAGE FREE.) Smonths - - - - - 65c. | 1 copy, two years - $4.00 4months - --- - - 85c. | ‘ie Yeu York Weekly and 6months - - - - - $1.25 | Goop Nrws, both for one One Year - - - - - 2.50 | year $4.50 2 copies, one year- - 4.00 How to SEND Monry.—We will be responsible for the receipt of money sent to us only when remittance is made ty Post-Office poses 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 celts. We cannot be responsible for money lost in transit unless sent in one of the above ways. ‘To CLUB RatsErs.—We are at all times nea’ willing to lend yon all possible aid, and will send, as many sample copies as roe think you can ju- diciously use, together with other advertising matter. Special inducements made for large clubs. aul letters should be addressed to STREET & SMITH’S GOOD NEWS, P. O. Box 2734. 29 & 31 RoseStreet, N.Y. Advertising rates, 50 cents per agate line. ana free, 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. It is assumed that contributions unaccompanied with stamped envelopes to guarantee their return af unused, are not regarded by their writers as worth recovering. ‘Good News” cannot under- take to send back such manuscripts. Contents of this Number. “Among the Esquimaux,” by Edward S. Ellis. “Teddy’s Venture,” by James Otis. “Slaves of the Circus,” by Walter Morris. “Captain Carey,” by Lieutenant Lionel Lounsberry. “aie and Fearless,” by Horatio Alger, ts “Peter Potter,” by **Jack.” ‘Daring Deeds of Boys,” by Nathan D. Urner. “A True Story of Peril,” by W. H. Macy. “A Ten-Dollar Gold Peice,” by Mrs. Jane Kavanagh. “Short Talks With the Boys,” by Arthur Sewall. ‘Interesting Facts,” by John R. Coryell. And the usual interesting departments. —__+---»___ NEW SERIAL STORY NEXT WEEK BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE, AUTHOR OF “Oudjo’s Cave,” “Neighbor Jackwood,” ‘Morton Merrivale, His X Mark,” ‘The Drummer Boy,” “The Three Scouts,” «‘The Young Surveyor,” “Jack Hazard Series,” etc., etc. , —~e The fame of J. T. Trowsrimae is world- wide, and he is regarded as unrivaled in the delineation of juvenile character. The story is devoid of extravagance or clap-trap effects; every scene is life-like, and every character true to nature. We feel sure that all will appreciate the quaint and graphic pictures of boy life in J, T. TROWBRIDGE’S STORY, BOYS WILL BE BOYS: A Harvest of Wild Oats. It will be commenced next week, in No. 58 of Goop News. > e-» —___—_ Send us the names of your friends who have not seen Goop News, and we will send them a sample copy free. Prize Winners. The following are a few of the many letters recently received from the winners in the letter ‘‘e” contest. A full account of the contest, and the names of all the win- ners, appeared in No. 48 Goop Nrws. RoOcHESTER, N.Y. Messrs. STREET & SmitH :—Dear Sirs: J am in receipt of your communication re getoian. the news that I was first prize winner in your letter “EK” guessing contest. It was a surprise to me, as Ihad almost forgotten about the contest, I re- ceived “University Royal Organ” from the freight- house to-day, and must say that I am very much pleased. I consider myself very lucky, indeed, to come out first prize winner, as I sentin but the one guess to see how near I could come to the cor- rect number. I never imagined that | would win the first prize. Ihave taken Goop News since it Started, and consider it the best weekly paper published. It supplies the place of two others that I used to take. ‘Thanking you for your wel- come prize, and wishing you and your patrons success and happiness through life, I remain yours very truly, G. E. MaTTHEWSON, 202 Allen street, Rochester, N. Y. FEDERALSBURG, Md. MEssrs, STREET & SuirH :—Dear Sirs: The bicycle arrived all O. K. yesterday, for which accept my many thanks. Am well pleased with it, as it is the very thing I had.wished for a great many times. I have been a reader of Goop News since it started, and think it takes the lead as a paper for young folks. With best wishes for its every suc- cess, I remain, very truly yours, J.W. STOWELL. Boston, Mass. Messrs. StrEET & Smrra :—Dear Sirs: I received the typewriter to-day and was very much pleased. Ihave shown it to many of my friends, and they are loud in their praise at the liberality of Goop News in giving away such an elegant prize. Hoping that Goop News will meet with suc- cess wherever it goes, I remain, yours very truly, FRANK J. HOGAN, 6 Fruit street Ct., Boston, Mass. New York, N. Y. Messrs. STREET & Suite :—Gentliemen: I cannot tell you how surprised I was when the orgar. came to me by express. Iam delighted, and will take pleasure in showing it to my triends and tell them how I got it; alsoshow them a copy of Goop NEws, and if they have not read it before, it will be quite atreatforthem. Yours truly, JOHN C, BALL, 55 HE. 115th street, N. Y. KEARNEY, N. J. Messrs. STREET & SmirH :—Gentlemen: I recelved napkin-ring in good order. 1did notin the least expect to win anything. Ihave read Goop Nrws since it was first published, and I think it ts the best paper for boys printed. Hoping Goop News will always be successful, I remain, Yours respectfully, L. RHOADES. CHICAGO, Ill, Messrs, StrEET & SMirH :—I hereby acknowledge the receipt of Friendship Ring, tor which | tender you many thanks, Yours truly, JOSEPH KUNZ. ANDOVER, Mass. Messrs. StrREET & Smita :—Dear Sirs: 1 think very much of my napkiu-ring prize, and will always keep it in memory of Goop NEws, JaMks C. Souter, Andover, Mass. Leroy, N. Y. Eprror Goop News :—Dear Sir: I have received from you rolled gold plate charm as the ninth prize in the letter “‘*E” contest. Although I expected a better placein the race, Iam ee satisfied with your decision, and think it is just and fair. I was astonished On iearning how many there were that came so near guessing the correct number. it was well contested, and goes to show what a clever, intelligent lot of readers Goop Nrws has (omitting myself), which It richly deserves, for, in my estimation, it is the leading story paper of the day, and I wish it every success in the future. Thanking you for your kind wishes, and assuring you that as long as | am able to read, Goop NEws will receive my patronage. 1 remain, yours very truly, . A. TOOLE, Leroy, N. ¥. NEw ORLEANS, La, Messrs. Street & Smite :—Sirs: Friendship ring prize received, and in yepy can say that Iam thankful for same. Goop Newsis the best story, paper published. The proot I have is that when- ever I show my friends a copy they are sure to get the next week's paper. Respectfully yours. FRANK SKILLMAN, JR.. 279 St. Mary street, New Orleans, La, New York, N. Y. Messrs. Street & SmitrH: Gentlemen: I received bottle of Wenck’s perfume which you sent me as one of the eleventh class prizes in the Goop NEws letter ‘““E” guessing contest. I return many thanks for the same. Yours very truly, JOSEPH F’. CALVERT, PHILADELPHA, Pa. Mr. Eprror:—t received the prize which was sent to me, and thank you very much for it. Yours respectfully, ALEX. Ross, 1,218 South 13th street, Philadelphia, Pa. BuFFa.o, N. Y. Messrs. Street & Smita :—Gentlemen: Your prize awarded mein the letter ‘‘E” contest, con- sisting of printing outfit, has been thankfully re- ceived. Hoping to have many occasions for its use in the future, | remain, yours truly, A. J. RODENBACH, 942 Main street, Lockport, N. Y. Messrs. Street & Sutra :—Dear Sirs: Received the napkin ring on the 20th, and desire to thank you for the same, as it came before I knew that I ad Urawn anything. Yours respectfully, HENRY J. ELLSWORTH, ; HUNTINGTON, Mass, Messrs. StrEET & Smita :—Dear Sirs: Recelved fourteenth class prize, this morning by mail, in the letter “EK” contest. Thanking you for your prompt- ness. I am, Yours truly, EDMUND Cross, WASHINGTON, D. C. Messrs. Srreer & Smiru :—Dear Sirs: Received rinting outfit as a prize in the letter ‘‘E” contest. shall always speak of your paper in the highest terms. Yours truly, HERBERT GALLATIN, Seana 165 Grant place. INTERESTING FACTS. i eee BY JOHN R. CORYELL, ——@e Was It a Vegetable? fe HAT it really was nobody knows, Ay but most scientific men are of the opinion that it was some _ sort of vegetable matter. I am speaking of the diamond. Coal, you know, was originally vegetable matter, and as coal and the diamond are first cou- sins it is not at all strange to suppose that the hard and brilliant little stone was once vegetable. Coal is mostly car- bon, and the diamond is pure carbon in a crystallized condition. -There is one gen- tleman who is probably more ingenious than learned, who says that diamonds may have been found in the lungs of lizards, and other enormous antediluvian reptiles who were suffocated ages ago, They may have been formed so, but prob- ably they were not. We all know what a diamond is like— white and brilliant. Many, however, have very false ideas of the real properties of the stone. Very many persons fancy that the diamond is so hard that it can- not be broken. As a matter of fact, the diamond, like all other hard substances, is ee easily broken. It is not hardness, but elasticity, which prevents breakage. The hardness of the stone prevents its being. scratched by anything but itself. The diamond, it may be said, is not only easily broken, but also is not difficult to burn to ashes. There is a great deal of discussion about the property of the diamond to shine in the dark. There are those who say it will not shine, while others as positively declare it will. Why should there be any Ssepatg when it is so easy to experiment and determine the fact? Because the diamond sometimes will and sometimes will not shine in the dark. If it be first exposed for some time to the sun’s rays and then taken into a dark room it will give off a phosphorescent light. If not exposed first to the sun it will not shine in the dark any more than a piece of com- mon glass, India was the source whence the dia- mond originally came, and it is supposed that its value was there appreciated as many as five thousand years ago. The first mention of it by Greek writers dates back to three centuries before the Chris- tian era, when, under “the name of adamas, or the unsubduable, a great many fables were told of it. In the early centuries only stones naturally polished could have been of any real use, for it was not until 1476 that the art of polish- ing diamonds with diamond-dust was dis- covered, The natural stone is sometimes brilliant, but is often dull. Itis of a variety of colors, the most valued being clear white, though black diamonds, when of a pure color, are valued highly, chiefly, however, because of the rarity of the color, for no diamond is as lustrous as the pure white ee There are three principal forms in which diamonds are cut, and from these forms names are given which are not always understood. Brilliant, rose, and table are the three forms into which diamonds are cut. The brilliant is the commonest form, both because it is the best for dis- playing the varied lights reflected by a diamond, and because it is nearest to the natural form of most stones, and conse- quently involves least loss in size. The brilliant is cut with as many faces as may be desirable, but the general shape is the same—sharp-pointed on the lower side and flat-pointed on the upper side. The rose is pointed on the upper side and perfectly flat on the lower side. The table form is only used with diamonds of considerable surface and no depth, and is nearly flat on both sides. The celebrated Koh-i-noor, belonging to Queen Victoria, and valued at a fabulous sum, is cut rose. Diamonds are sold by weight. It is hardly possible to give a very good idea of weight by figures relating to size, but roughly a one carat weight diamond would be less than one-quarter of an inch through the broadest part, and about one-eighth in depth. An average rice for a one carat diamond is fifty dol- ars. The price increases in a regular way, and a two carat stone is four times a one carat; a three carat, nine times, and so on, a ten carat being one hundred times as valuable as a one carat stone. Naturally stones which represent such enormous values in such trifling bulk must excite cupidity, and, therefore, no one will be surprised to learn that the histories of some of the most noted dia- monds are illuminated by bloody scenes inno small number. How many single murders have been committed to gain smaller stones can never be computed, The very largest diamond known to ex- ist is called the Orloff. It belongs to the Czar of Russia, and is set in the stick called his scepter. This diamond is cut rose, and weighs one hundred and ninety- four and three-quarter carats. It was once the eye of an Indian idol, and was stolen from there. A Shah of Persia was murdered to obtain it, and finally it was sold to Catherine of Russia for about five hundred thousand dollars, The most per- fect. diamond is the Pitt, which is cut brilliant, weighs nearly one hundred and thirty-seven carats, and is valued at nearly one million and a half of dollars. The story of the Koh-i-ngor, if told in full, would be a most delightfully bloody romance. It begins away back five thou- sand years tothe time when it was found in the Golconda mines. Originally it is supposed to have weighed nearly eight hundred carats, but was split in the hands of an unskillful lapidary. The Orloff diamond is thought to be one of the pieces of the original stone. There are a great many other noted diamonds. Dropping now from the lofty heights where we have been, we come upon the diamond in a more humble, and, natu- rally, a more useful character. The gla- zier uses it to cut glass, and the mimer uses it to bore through hard rock. Dia- monds, though originally found in India, have since been found in large numbers in Brazil, Africa, Borneo, and a few other places. A great many efforts have been made to manufacture diamonds, but as yet unsuccessfully. If anybody should succeed in wresting the secret from na- ture he would be wise to make a big dia- mond first, and sell it for a million or so before making his discovery public, for when diamonds become plenty they will also be cheap. 0 Ticklets. BY CHARLES W. FOSTER. A Deep Laid Plot. Young Lady—‘You are the Chief Head Center of the Pullers and Haulers Union in papa’s factory, aren’t you ?” Walking Delegate—‘‘Yes, miss.” “Well, I'll give you a gold breastpin, a pair of diamond earrings, two nice rings, a lady’s watch, and twenty-seven dollars, if you’ll order the men to strike on the first of May.” “Eh? What d’ye want us to strike for” “Because papa was too busy at the factory to take us to Europe last season, and I don’t want him to have any such excuse this time.” Live and Learn. City Child (in the country)—“Oh, mamma, see those pretty spotted chickens. I shouldn’t think people would want to kill such pretty chickens.” Mamma—*Probably they are kept to lay eggs.” City Child—‘'Of tourse. They must be the kind that lay Easter eggs.” Pretty far Gone, Little Dot—‘'Papa, I mus’ have a new dwess to play in.” Papa—‘‘What is the matter with that one?” Little Dot—‘It’s all worn out, ’cept th’ button- holes.” In Good Company. Domestic—‘How long have yez been in this counthry ?” Mistress (modestly)—‘‘My ancestors came over with Miles Standish.” Domestic (proudly)—“Ol come over wid Miles O’Rooney. He's a New Yorrick aldermon now.” Violent Exercise. Mrs. De Style—‘‘Good-morning my little dear! How 1s your Mamma ?” Little Miss De Fashiun—‘“Mamma isn’t feeling very well to-day. I guess she was at th’ opera last evening, cause she’s awfully hoarse.” A Tender Conscience, Crossing Sweeper—‘‘Please gimme two cents fer th’ clean crossing.” Amused Pedestrian—"Why two cents ?” “You see, sir, ] didn’t clean th’ crossing myself, but I licked the boy wot did, an’ took his broom.” “You did, eh?” “Yes sir. But I want ter do the square thing by im, an’ if y’ll gimme two cents I’ll give him one.” Made a Sale. First Sales Girl—‘Of all things! You sold some- thing to that lady didn’t you ?” Second Sales Girl (with a slight curl of contempt) —‘Yes, She is probably from the country.” Women’s Rights. Mrs. De Female—‘-Is it true that among the Zu- lus the women are the sole owners of the houses ?’* pee ae madam, and they ought toown them.” “Of course they ought.” 7 They build them.” : No Need to Interfere, Excited Lady—‘‘Why don’t you interfere to stop that dog fight ?” Bystander—“I was Just a goin’ to, mum; but ou kin calm y’r fears now. My dog is on top at ast, mum,” Hard to Please Everybody. Bearded Reformer (having his hair cut)—‘‘What we want is a law makin’ it @ penetentiary offense to employ scab labor.” Barber—‘‘That’s so. And there ought to be another law makin’ it a capital offense ter wear a full beard.” The Amende Honorable. Aunty (to whom the game of base-ball has been explained)—‘“I do not quite urderstand it, yet.” ittle Boy—“Why, aunty, it’s as plain as the nose on your face.” Aunty (who has rather a large nose)—“You should not use such expressions, my dear.” , Little Boy (hastily correcting himself)—I mean, aunty, it’s as plain as a pikestaff,” “Yes, GOooD NEWS. 825 {This Story will not be Published in Book-Form,] FRANK AND FEARLESS ; OR THE FORTUNES OF JASPER KEN nso iy BY HORATIO ALGER, JR. Author of “Grit,” “Only an Irish Boy,” “Ragged Dick.” “Fame and Fortune,” “Sink or Swim,” “Tattered Tom,” ‘Brave and Bold,” etc. (“FRANK AND FEARLESS” was commenced in No. 43. 3ack numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.] pon aanenne CHAPTER XXX. JASPER GETS A PLACE, \j JASPER took breakfast the next AN f morning with the friendly young * German, whose acquaintance he had so singularly made. Not a word was said as to the manner in which ‘e had entererd the house. He was _ in- -roduced by Adam, as “my friend, Mr. Kent.” After breakfast Jasper went around with his new friend to the place of busi- ness of the latter. He decided not to call upon Mr. Fitch till about ten o’clock. While on his way to the merchant's | “*Nancy was up first. Nancy?’ asked my uncle. ““No; it was all right,’ said I. “That puzzled them both. Then they thought of the roof, and they went up. I was afraid they would find you there, but they didn’t. They seemed to think you couldn’t get away so, and they’re dread- How was it, fully puzzled to know how you did es-’ cape. I was afraid you’d fallen off, so I went outside to see if I vould find any blood on the sidewalk, but I couldn’t, and I hoped you’d got into the next house.” “Your uncle didn’t think of that, did he?” “No, nor Jack either.” “Well, I’ve been lucky. they won’t suspect youe” “They will if they should see me talk- ing to you in the street.” “Then we’d better separate. morning, Nancy. I won’t forget the ser- vice you’ve done me.” “Good-morning, Jasper. I’m so glad you have got away.” “I wish you were away, too, Nancy. It’s not a good place for you.” “T don’t think I shall stay long,” said the girl. “I didn’t know uncle kept such com- pany, or I wouldn’t lave come to his house. I only hope counting-room he met the girl, Nancy, ; Some day The girl’s' I shall with a tin-pailin her hand. face lighted up when she saw him. “So you got off the roof,” she said. “I was so afraid you would fall.” “Thank you, Nancy,” said Jasper. “Thanks to you I am out of prison.” “But how did you get off the roof?” Jasper gave her an at- count of his midnight ad- ventures, “And now tell me,” he said, “how does your uncle take my flight?” “He’s awful mad about it,” said the girl, shaking her head. “What does he think? Does he suspect you?” asked J oh eagerly. “He did at first, but he doesn’t now. He’s puzzled ‘to know how you got away. And Jack, he’s mad, too.’ “Jack, does he know it?” “Yes, he came around to the house about eight o’clock. .He was logis seedy, as if he’d been up al night. As near as I can find out, he failed in some job last night, and that made him cross,” “Very likely.” “‘Have you carried a that boy’s breakfast?’ heard him say. “*No,’ said my uncle. ““Then give it to me, and I’ll take it up, I want to talk to him.’” “So Uncle Nathan made me get the breakfast eae I gave it to him, and he went up. A minute after he roared down stairs: “©Where’s the boy? What have you done with him?” “Uncle Nathan stared, and called out: “‘¢Where’s your eyes, Jack? Can’t you see straight this morning?’ “Jack answered, as mad as could be “*Come up here, you old fool, and see if your eyes are any better than mine.’ “Uncle went up the stairs, two at a time, and he chamber, too. “‘There, what do you say to that?’ I heard Jack say. ““I’m dumfounded!’ said Uncle Na- than; and then he called me.” “Were you frightened?” asked Jasper. “A little,” said the girl. “I was afraid I’d look guilty.” “No you know anything about this?’ asked my uncle, sternly. “‘Good gracious! You don’t mean to say he’s gone?’ I said, looking as much surprise as possible. ‘How did he get looked in the “ Washington, which is directed by Major John W. Powell, and for every vacancy in his force there are naturally many ap- plicants. t much opportunity for a young man to see oaae an appointment anywhere as geolo- — gist. Now, again, you say you are studying ~ : to be a geologist, but you do not describe how. Geology usually implies a knowl- | edge of paleontalogy, and a knowldge of natural history, which, in its turn, re- — quires a pretty thorough acquaintance ~ with biology. Will your education, — when completed, include a perfect knowl-- edge of these branches? Unless it does — you can hardly expect to compete success- — fully with the finely-educated young men who rote yearly from such technical — schools as the Schoo] of Mines of Colum-— bia College, or the: Lawrence Scientific — School of Harvard University. So much — for geology. i: 34 ES tae As to South America, our experience — teaches us that the industrious and com- petent young man succeeds everywhere, whether in Missouri or in New York, but — the young man who has friends to secure an appointment for him and means to defray his expenses, can naturally, all things being equal, succeed better than Hence it follows that a young Brazilian entering the coffee trade will be more likély to succeed than a eee the i that Rn nows e Portuguese language, tb manners of the people, and things that an outsider would have to acquire, é Thus, you see, there is not GOooD NEws. 827 We do know of an American who be- sme very rich in Brazil from his con- ection with the coffee business, but his Dbpportunity was a unique one. He was a mining engineer by profession, and he ras engaged by an elderly Brazilian to 1uperintend his estates. The only family 1at the Brazilian had was a charming aughter, with whom the American romptly fell in love. He married her, nd soon after the old gentleman very onsiderately died, leaving the entire property to his daughter and her hus- band, te you think that you can doas well, go ahead, but in advance remember ‘that the story we have told is a true one, fand the American was a scion of the best families in New York city, but whose father had lost his property. _ As to the cost of going to Brazil, there isa regular line of steamers that run from New York to Brazil, from whom ou can get rates, but in our opinion you Moat better make your way down to New Orleans and start from there. We can- not give you any idea as to what wages _you can obtain, for wages in all parts of the world depend chiefly upon a man’s ability. Just wuat you can do on a coffee plantation we don’t know. You may not ave the requisite amount of executive ‘ ability to make a good overseer, in which case what can you do? Perhaps you can secure an appoint- ment in some large New York or Phila- delphia coffee house, and tell your em- YF ployers of your desires. Such a course . might lead to something. Indeed, it is pretty difficult to know what to advise . youtodo. You had better look into the } subject of coffee raising a little before you do anything more. Read F, B. Thur- bar's book on that subject. Cowboy writes: ‘‘Please give me some points in ‘regard to the work of herders on a cattle or sheep ranch in Colorado. Would a greenhorn be likely | to ai work as acowboy? What wages would he get? What would a second-class ticket to Denver | cost?” Yon will find that the life of a cowboy is no longer the romantic experience that it once was. Ranches are now much smaller than they were formerly, and in- stead of being counties in extent are now limited to acres. You will have’ to get _ up at any hour of day and night in order to look after the sheep, and put up with all the inconveniences of poor accommo- _ dations and bad food, Perhaps at times you_ will have to do without sleep fora week or so ata time, and yet you will have to keep your end of the work up. The wages are small, and depend upon the qualifications of the person. You can get a ticket to Denver from New York - at about forty dollars. DARING DEEDS OF BOYS, BY NATHAN D. URNER, —— «—_— NUMBER SEVENTEEN. ~ Myron Masters, the Miner’s Apprentice. 7 m oy I had been a year of lamentable acci- } dents in the coal mines of Derby- 4 shire, but thus far the great Star ~\S * Mine, of which old Berwick had so ‘long been the superintendent, had es- ca any mishap, _ Others had been less fortunate. Water ad flooded them, drowning the poor miners ay the score. Fire had exploded ‘the gas, burning them to cinders. But -the Star Mine—much to the pride of old Berwick, and greatly to the satisfaction «of Lord Denham (the owner), in London _—had never failed in its Reva tel veness, ‘but still continued to yield the principal item in my lord’s income, and to increase ‘the overbearing vanity of the superin- ee ent, “But do not beso certain, Berwick,” is elderly sister said to him. Sht was he housekeeper as well, and feared not p Rance stern as he was. “Be not so certain, Berwick. Our time may come, as well as the rest. The other miners ae warning when misfortunes over- ok them ; per. had taken the greatest autions, but it was nature and the ill of Heaven. “ Ay!” said little Myron Masters, a poor orphan, and ‘the miner’s apprentice. ony ere was Tommy Potts, as_ had a wife four bairns, when the Black Shaft, of Earl Salisbury’s estate, was flooded ast spring. He hadn’t no warnin’, and was drowned as soon as the water set in.” _ “What's that to you, you young vaga- bond?” cried old Berwick, angrily ; and de cuff of his great hand sent the lad Byering away from the breakfast- ble before his meal was half-finished. «You are very rude with the lad, Ber- wick,” said the woman. “He works hard long for you under the ground, yet m seem never to havea single kind ord for him.” — ‘Then let him keep his voice out of my o “ business,” growled the miner; and in a few minutes he also quitted the house. Before the middle of that very day in- telligence came from several neighbor- ing mines to the effect that serious acci- dents had occurred, deranging the min- ing machinery, and, in one instance, causing loss of life. _ “But the old Star Mine is as good and safe as ever. Myron, you young cub, hand me that staff lying near you.” It was Berwick himself that spoke. He was standing in the bucket, over the mouth of the deep shaft, in his rough miner’s costume, and with his little lamp already stuck in his cap, prepared for the descent. The boy Myron Masters—who was that day employed in driving the teams on the tramway leading from the mouth of the pit to the end of the dock, a distance of about two hundred yards— complied with the brutal order, without a word, and then resumed his duties as his master descended the shaft. It was, perhaps, nothing more than natural that little Myron should be so si- lent and melancholy. Over four years of his young life had been spent among the dismal mines, and in the hard service of old Berwick. An old mountebank, or traveling showman, who - represented himself as the lad’s father, had appren- ticed him to Berwick and then vanished into the deep country. The boy’s life had been hard enough before, strolling hither and thither, and living from hand to mouth, with a drunken vagabond, the only protector he had known,since his infancy; but it had been doubly hard and cheerless with Berwick. Most of his days had been passed deep down in the bowels of the earth, with nothing but the smoking lamps and torches of the grimy miners to relieve the gloom, and no other companions than their dusky forms, flitting here and there, like phan- toms, down the long, echoing tunnels and dark corridors of the mines—with nothing but curses, blows, and ill-treatment from Berwick, and but chary sympathy from Martha, his master’s sister, who, never- theless, was not devoid of a good heart and kindly feelings for the lad. So that it was little wonder that Myron should look melancholy and pros though he in- variably performed his arduous work conscientiously and without complaint. Soon after Berwick’s descent on the day of which I am writing, and when Myron was at the end of the tramway leading over the dock, the report of an explosion caused him to turn.. Smoke was issuing in dense volumes from the mouth of the shaft, and the miners em- ployed above ground were running about it in great panic. The turn of the Star Mine had come at last, and this time there was an in- dubitable accident, When Myron reached the shaft, the ap- pearance of smoke had almost disap- peared, but there was a strong emission of gas, and they could hear the gurgling and roaring of waters far down in the depths. There were also a number of women— miners’ wives and daughters—gathered about the edge of the pit, ina pitiful state of anxiety and terror, and Martha was among them, wringing her hands, and moaning helplessly. “It’s all up with the great Star Mine!” said an old miner, solemnly; “its doom has come at last.” There were other croakers of the same character, but in the meantime the more sensible and energetic were preparing to descend the shaft in order to do some- thing, if possible, for those who were in the mines. -Myron’s experience had been sufficient to enable him to guess immediately the nature of the disaster. The noxious gas had exploded, and a water-vein had burst almost at the same time. If the unfortu- nate miners escaped being smothered by the former, they would only by a miracle avoid strangulation by the water. There was one hope for them. At the further end of the longest and principal main— which ran under the sea, and had at one time had an outlet by means of a shaft piercing a small island about a quarter of a mile from the coast-line—there was a large, high subterranean chamber, in which the air was always fresh and pure. If the miners—some thirty in number— had had sufficient time to reach this chamber, there was a possibility of their rescue, The island shaft had, for many years, fallen into disuse, but, if proper restoratives could be conveyed to the un- fortunate in time to relieve them of the poenene effects of the gas, by means of he shaft then in use, arrangements might be made at the old, neglected ‘shaft for dragging them up to light, fresh air, and liberty. This was the opinion of the more ex- perienced miners, who gathered about the mouth of the pit. But,it was found almost impossible to withstand the poi- sonous fumes that streamed up. A num- ber of bold fellows, who were willing to venture almost anything for the relief of their comrades in distress, allowed them- ‘and all the rest of them, Aunt Martha,” selves to be lowered into the deep shaft; | but, one after another, they were hauled’ up, aE Cron Ty overcome by the deadly | vapors, and requiring considerable effort . to. resuscitate them. The miners hesi- , tated, and knew not what steps to pur-| sue. The boldest refused to descend the} shaft, and the chance was that the hap- less prisoners in the bowels of the earth, | if any of them happened to have survived | the catastrophe, would be left to perish | miserably, when little Myron Masters as- | tonished them all by stepping forth and offering to make the descent. His only conditions were that half a dozen buckets of cold water should be placed on the platform with him, and these were speedily complied with. He was provided with a package of the nec- essary restoratives, and, in a few mo- ments, began his descent, Martha still wringing her hands at the verge of the pit, andthe others gathering around with anxious curiosity. “JT will endeavor to save Mr. Berwick, said the boy, quietly, and then, as the steam windlass began to work, he disap- peared into the black pit. It was two hundred and eighty feet deep, but he had not descended half the distance before the noxious gases almost overpowered him. But, seizing one of the buckets of water, he dashed the contents around the walls of the shaft, and this dissipated the vapors, and caused him immediate relief; but, before reaching the bottom, he had to repeat the experiment until all of the buckets were eehatieted, Before stepping from the platform he glanced upward and saw the stars shin- ing in the sky as plainly as if it had been in the deep mid-noon of night. The gas was still offensive, but not near so much so as higher up, and his torch burned steadily, but dimly. At the foot of the shaft there were three mains, or tunnels, branching in different directions through the earth. Two of them went inland, and one—the one he intended to pursue—struck under the sea. Down one of the former foamed and gurgled the new-born torrent, while a shallow branch of it, shot through either of the other avenues, Save where it lashed itself into foam against the jagged sides of the caverns, the water ran jet black from. contact with the coal, and caused the youth to hesitate with a sudden thrill of terror, But he had passed a large portion of |: his life down in those underworld pas- sages, and knew them by heart, Two or | three mining tools—evidently hastily | cast aside—at the commencement of the} main leading under the sea, gave him ' hopes that some of the miners, af least, | had effected their escape to the large ehamber underneath the island shaft. | This main he had never traversed before, for it was considered by all to have been | exhausted years before, and little of the, business of the mine required its explora- } tion, but holding his torch high above his head, he entered it boldly. The water was nearly a foot deep, and the fragments of the old tramway under- neath hurt his feet, but he toiled bravely on, Once or twice the gas almost overcame him, but he refreshed himself by dashin the cold water over his face and head | and pushed on. At last, he came to a place where there was a roaring over his head, like thun- | der. He did not know what it was, and. paused, ankle-deep in the coal-black cur- | rent, in consternation and affright. Per- haps it was an earthquake. He had never heard of such things in England, but had read of them as occurring in the tropics, where deep mines had been suddenly shut up, after the manner of closing a pocket-knife, and the unfortunate work-, ers therein forever entombed. Damp and chill as the air was, his hand met great are of perspiration, as he swept it over his throbbing fore- head, But at length the truth came upon him like a flash. The rumbling overhead was nothing more than the oe ae and rolling of the sea. He was under the bed , .of the ocean. i This was something more consoling than an earthquake would have been, but he felt depressed and dizzy as he pressed on through the water and the darkness. At last, when he considered that he should have reached, or approached, the extremity of the mine, he raised a great shout. An answer—faint:and distant, but still an answer—came echoing back, and he pushed on. At length he caught the flash of torches, ' and, ten minutes later, he reached the’ large chamber underneath the disused shaft. Some twenty miners were huddled to- | gether there, some still frantic, but the majority apparently resigned to what they considered their inevitable doom. : The remainder, who had been under- ground during the catastrophe, had been destroyed by the rushing waters, Several of those in the chamber were alread prostrated by the poisonous vapors, an unable to speak or move. Among these was old Berwick, the superintendent of the mine. The others at first regarded little Myron Masters as an apparition of the other world. But, exhausted as he was, and almost prostrated by the gas himself, he soon convinced them to the contrary by opening his package of restoratives, and explaining the efforts that were even then being made to rescue them all. Berwick and the others who were lying down, feeble and helpless, were speedily restored to strength by the medicines Myron had brought, and they could hear the encouraging shouts of the rescuers at the top of the shaft. But it required a long time to rig up the necessary apparatus. All the remainder of that day, and all the following night, they were compelled to remain in the mine, which was slowl but surely filling up with water. Toad to the horrors of their situation, their: oil lamps were exhausted, and they were left alone in the bitter, terrible dark- ness. But on the morning of the following day a dangling bucket made its appear- ance at the foot of the old shaft. One by one they were drawn up and saved, and, a few hours thereafter, the mine was completely filled with water. Myron Masters was the last one who -reached the surface. Upon their arriving on the mainland, where their anxious friends were waiting to welcome them, they found: Lord Denham, who, upon hearing news of the accident, had has- tened up from London. He was accompanied by his wife, anda number of ladies and gentlemen, and de- manded of old Berwick that the heroic lad, who had saved the lives of so many, should be presented to him at once. My- ron had washed away the grime and soot of the mines, and no sooner did Lady Denham gain a glimpse of him than she fainted. Lord Denham also appeared to be greatly agitated, and inquired into the lad’s antecedents. When he heard the name of the old showman, who had bound out Myron to Berwick, he clasped ‘the boy to his breast in an ecstasy of joy, and Lady Denham in a few moments re- covered to share his delight. Myron was their own child, who had been stolen from his home when but an infant. The old mountebank, dying some months prior to this time, had made a confession of the identity of the little waif with the lost heir, but had been too delirious to state what had finally become of him. From that hour the noble couple had been spending money like water to effect his recovery, but fruitlessly until this lucky accident threw the object of their search into their arms. ‘ Myron was not of a revengeful disposi- tion, and he, therefore, said nothing to his father prejudicial to old Eerwick, his former master; but he was glad enough to quit the dismal mines forever, About Cyclones aud Tornadoes, HE questions which naturally occur uy are: What placesare better adapted to the development of tornadoes, and what is the time when condi- tions are most favorable to them? Lieu- tenant Finley, of the United States Sig- nal Service, points out that tornadoes are found in regions where warm, moist air begins to flow underneath a colder and drier upper stratum that comes from another direction. ‘This condition is fol- lowed shortly by an inversion of the air in the upper and lower strata, the first visible effect of the coming storm being the appearance in the west and northwest of a heavy peraen tees bank of clouds, fol- lowed suddenly by a violent commotion on the face of the dense black mass, and by the rushing of adjacent clouds toward the center of the disturbance, especially from the southeast, east, and northeast; as to time, the summer season is most favorable for tornadoes, when the inter- ior of the continent is warming and the air of the lower strata is drawn from lower latitudes far up into the northern portions of the country, on the eastern side of the Rocky Mountains, the iso- thermal curve being deflected decidedly toward the north. : Lieutenant Finley’s summary of the results of his investigations seems to cover everything that can be learned on the subject. Briefly, the most impor- tant of them are as follows: Tornadoes generally accompanying a low pressure area, the progressive motion of the tor- nado is to the northeast, and the tornado, with scarcely an exception, occursin the afternoon, just after the hottest part of — the day. “The tornado season includes March, April, May, June, July, August, | and September; the months of greatest frequency being April, May, June, and — July. From_a careful investigation there ar ; 828 GooDp NEWS. is every reason to believe that these storms were as frequent and violent two hundred years ago as they are now, and there appears to be no cause for any un usual change in their annual frequency for a like period to come. As regards protection in case of a. tor- nado, Lieutenant Finley can unfortu- nately say little, except that the south side of the tornado’s path is the danger: ous portion, and the north side is the safe one. If the cloud be moving to the northeast, then the line of escape is to the northwest, if to the east, then to the north. To one who stands facing the ad- vancing cloud in the direct line of its ap- proach, the safe side is always to the right. No structure that rises above the surface of the earth, however built, can wholly resist the violence of the tor- nado, and, therefore, no building is safe, either as property or as a refuge to pro- tect life. From'a business point of view, therefore, as affecting the questions of life and property, the tornado must be considered as a natural agency of destruc- tion, to be carefully watched and contin- ually provided against. A True Story of Peril BY W. H. MACY, *— HEN I was bowman of the lar- board, or chief mate’s boat, in the Druid, we lowered one afternoon in chase of a school of ‘“sixty-barrel bulls” on what was known to the initiated as the “Middle Ground,”: between Australia and New Zealand. We made fast to one of the whales, a lively fellow, who ran us something of a dance before we succeeded in giving him his death wound. But, all this time, our,steed had been running us to leeward, and meanwhile the captain had struck snother, and the ship kept her luff, so as to support the windward boats. ‘the second mate also kept ‘near the captain, and when our whale went in his “ifiurry,” which was not until nearly sundown, we could make out from the maneuvers of the ship that the boats were to windward of her. At such a distance from us they were invisi- ble, owing to our low position at the sur- face of the sea; but,those on board the Druid, one of whom remained constantly at the masthead, had the run of us all, at least so long as daylight continued. The sun was just dipping, when we xot a hole cut in our whale’s nib-end, and a strap rove for towing. A dark .cloud- bank was settling down in the weather horizon, out of which a strong wind might be expected at short notice. An attempt, with a single boat, to tow the whale to windward, would be sheer folly; there was ‘nothing for us to do but to either give up our prize or to await the movements of the ship, We saw her stand on until hull down, then tack, and soon afterward, haul the courses up, and swing the headyards aback, a signal that she was about taking the captain’s whale alongside. Some hands were aloft, at the same time, securing the light sails, and the topsails were allowed to run down on the cap. The mate looked anxiously at the ship, and at thethreatening aspect of the weather; then at the sixty-barrel bull, the prize that we had fought so hard to win and seemed unable, for a time, to make up his mind what course to pursue. “What do you think of iv, Beers?” said he, at last, to his boatsteerer, with the manner of one who wishes to divide his responsibilities with counselors. Beers was a veteran whaler of African descent and bottle-green complexion, old enough to have been the father of his su- perior officer. “Well, I d’no, sir, it looks kind 0’ jubrious to hang on Yere. The ship won’t run off the wind, till she gets that whale fluked; and I don’t know as she will then. And there’ll be a change of weather within an hour.” “And it’ll be dark in less than an hour,” added the mate. “If there wasa prospect of fair weather I wouldn’t care for the darkness, because we could keep the run of each other’s lights, but as it is—I think we’d better waif the whale, end (Se to the ship while we have day- g ae A hole was cut in the body of the whale, and the “waif"— a flag attached to a slender spruce staff—inserted; our line was cast off from the towing-strap, and the order given to pull ahead, the boat’s head being laid to windward, on a bee-line for the ship, then some four miles off. “TI don’t know what the old man will think of our judgment, in leaving the whale,” muttered the mate, using the } | We were all glad enough, it must be confessed, to abandon the whale and con- sult our own safety. It was very early in the voyage, and no similar emergency had before occurred: We had seen just enough of the captain to feel that he was a driver, where the interest of the voyage was concerned. Consequently the mate, a very young officer, felt a keen responsibility, and an equally keen anx- og to learn how his course would be judged It was quite dark when we pulled up under the lee of the Druid within hail; but the black squall still hung, threaten- ing, inthe sky, and there had been as yet no actua! change in the weather. The ship had her helm up, and was just in the act of paying off, while the signal- lantern was swaying and flickering at the mizzen-peak, “Boat ahoy!” roared the captain, sharply, as soon as hg perceived our ap- proach “Who is there, Mr, Andrews?” “Ay, ay, sir!” “Where’s your whale?” “Two points forward of your lee-beam —four miles off!” “What did you leave him for?” The mate made no reply to the ques- tion, until the boat was secured along- side hy her warp, and he had jumped in on the quarter-deck. The ship continued swinging off until her head was pointed in the right direction, but with her top- sails on the cap, and one whale fluked, towing alongside, her progress was not very rapid. “We didn’t think it prudent to lie by,” said Mr. Andrews, in his apologetic tone, “as the ship was so far from us, and every prospect of bad weather——” “We didn’t think!” retorted Captain Gibbs. “Who's we? I want you to do the thinking, Mr. Andrews, in charge of your own boat. The rest didn’t ship to think !” “T know it, sir, but in case of an emer- gency it may be well enough to consult those who are sharing the risk with you.” “Consult! Of course, Jack will always say, ‘Save my precious life—cut away the whale, and we’ll pay for it!’ And there’s sixty barrels of sperm oil gone. You might as well look for a needle in a hay- stack now.. It won’t do for us, at the outset of the voyage, to throw away a chance like that. ‘We must run-a little risk sometimes—that’s what we all shipped for.” This taunting language had the effect which might have been expected upon the young mate. “Well, I’l1 bet I can run as much risk as any live man of my inches, if you think it prudent to do so. But I had charge of other men’s lives, as well as my own, and I should feel just as re- ote to you and them, if I had erred the other way, by venturing too much, and any accident had happened. Haul up the boat here, my crew, and jump in!” “Hold on, Mr. Andrews!” said the cap- tain. “We can run down the best part of the distance with the ship.” When we judged ourselves within a mile or less of where the whale had been left, the ship was brought to the wind again. There had, as yet, been no in- crease of wind, and though the night was very dark, the bank or squall appeared to have lifted a little, and to have a less heavy appearance than at sundown. “T don’t believe but what it’ll all pass over in a fizgle,” said Captain Gibbs. “I don’t see any change in the barometer, Now, Mr. Andrews, I believe you can find that whale again; I think I could, at any rate.” “All right, sir,” was the reply, with a nervous twitching that showed how the young man was stung by the words. “If you can do it I can.” “He ought to bear, now, three points off the lee bow,” were the last words thrown at us, as we cast off from _ the ship, and prepared to “out oars.” “Pull right off hereaway, and you must fall into his slick, and then you can follow it down.” Setting our light as soon as we were well clear, we passed away into the dark- ness, leaving our floating home behind, until the dim signal to her gaff faded to a mere spark in the distance. It was evident from the air of quiet determina- tion about Mr. Andrews that he would cruise now all night, rather than return to the ship without his whale. We at the oars had nothing to say about the matter: it was ours simply to obey. It was long before we found any trace of the “slick,” but after pulling back and forth over the ground, fearful of passing on one side of it, and getting too far to leeward, we at last had the satisfaction to perceive that we were in it; a positive assurance that we still had the weather- gauge of the object of our search. At the same time, a brighter light flamed up word “our” as a salvo, like most people; from the ship, made by burning old scraps under similar circumstances; though hej] on the back-arches of the try-works, and had acted for himself, except so far as| we made out that she was again keeping his judgment had been fortified by the| off, to be nearer to us, hints of old Beers, We pulled lustily now, feeling en- couraged by the signs, and still keeping in the slick, followed it as our only guide; for so dark was the night. we could not possibly see the whale until we should be very close upon it. Old Beers stood up in the head of the boat, looking with all the eyes in his head, to catch a glimpse, either of the waif, or of the swash of “white water” which would indicate the whale’s position. But now there was suddenly a change in the air, which I can only describe as a sense of dilution or refracticn, with a sighing sound that was ominous of ap- proaching evil. The weather quarter of the heavens, instead of darkening more, Sbppatar to light a little, as the black all split in two, and parted right and eft. Out of it came a few straggling drops of rain, and then the wind followed with a vengeance! The first blast struck us with such fury that the mate had enough to do to keep the boat from broaching to, and taking the whole force of it broadside on. We slipped in all the oars as fast as pos- sible, and let her drive to leeward, crouch- ing down in our places, unable to see anything, or to change the course of our light craft, and running blindly off into the bJackness. Our little taper in the boat-lantern was extinguished at once, and could be of no further service. We felt, instinctively, that the ship would luff to again, as the captain would not run the risk of passing us; and here we were, rushing away from her before the gale, and every moment lessening our chances of safety. There was a sudden flashing up of her light, just as the squall struck, and then we lost sight of it en- tirely. ‘The faint report of a musket fol- lowed, a signal of recall, of course, but we could neither answer nor obey it! Onward we rushed before the wind, shrinking down into the boat, and cling- ing to the gunwales and thwarts, all of us but the officer, who held fast to his steering-oar to keep her head in the only safe direction. No word was spoken among us, but each fully realized the peril we were in, and each asked himself the question of life or death, how long is this going to last? It was answered by a shock so sudden as to throw us all together in a confused heap. In acrash of everything movable, and a cracking of the boat’s fabric itself, we rolled into the sea and were over- whelmed. I can hardly tell, in words, what followed. As soon as I regained breath a little I struck out and grasped nothing but a smooth slippery surface, on which I could get no hold, and the next instant was rolled off again and plunged under the sea. I understood the truth now. Inthe darkness we had run upon the whale, without having seen it! At my next attempt I clutched a rope, which I felt at once to be the bight of a whale-line, and underrunning this, I soon came to the pole of an iron or harpoon. By this I was enabled to hang on; and after being half-drowned in my struggle, I succeeded in drawing a bight of the line under the whale’s fin, until it brought up firmly at the “knuckle.” I could then secure myself upon the whale to avoid sliding off at every roll. The situation was by no means a pleasant one, as I had enough to do to keep my mouth above water. While I had been thus absorbed in the one object of securing my own temporary safety, the rest of my shipmates had all disappeared, nor was anything to be seen or heard, either of them or the boat. A light»spruce pole and a paddle were dashed in my way, and I secured them by cutting holes with my sheath-knife and planting them, like masts, in the blubber of the whale; but these were all that I could find. The waif set in the whale by Mr. Andrews still stood in its place, and this was important, as it might be the means of the ship finding me, could I keep alive where I was_ until the return of daylight. Within half an hour after IT secured the landing upon the floating island, the squall was all over, and the wind again settled down to a steady moderate breeze. The heavens were clear overhead, and it was as light as well it could be on a moonless night. But where were my comrades? and, of more vital importance yet to poor me, where was the Druid? “Light ho!” I actually sang out the words, as I had just spit half a pint or less of brine from my mouth, and shak- ing my eyes clear, they rested upon a bright light directly in the wind’s eye from me. Then there was a blinding flash, an the report of the Druid’s old carriage-gun thundered forth, so near as to be startling, and I roared with all the voice at my command, which was not much, hoping to make myself heard. More light! a flerce flame now, and. evi- dently nearing me. Soon, I could make out the ship’s sails in the immediate glare of the light, and then the whole outline of the stout old craft. My lungs were strained to their utmost power, for my only chance of safety de- ponder upon attracting their attentio efore they should sweep on beyond n If left asterm unknown to them, the was little or no hope ot salvation. But sharp eyes were on the alert, be low and aloft, for they had found tbh whale’s “slick,” and were following j down. My outcry was heard, and tH ship brought rapidly up in- the wing while two boats were dropped into th water and manned as quickly as eage men could accomplish it. I never relaxed my cries until one of the boats was neaj enough for the crew to see the waif, an’ set up their answering shout. I was pulled by strong arms from my crampec¢ position into the boat of Captain Gibbs, who, seemingly excited almost to insan- ity, had come himself on this errand of rescue. My story, which I told in as few words as possible, excited him still] more. We shot alongside, and I was helped up to the deck, while he was issuing all sorts of urgent orders. All three boats were soon down, with directions to “spread their chances,” and to search thoroughly every foot of “ground,” or sea, as they went. draw his mind away from this cease- less brooding over his brother’s death ;” and Dr. Fieldman clasped his hands be- hind him, as he looked thoughtfully in the glowing fire in the open grate, as if searching for the something to arouse his patient. But other cases awaited him that morn- ing. So, with some more professional directions, he took his leave, while the master of the comfortable mansion woh- dered hopelessly what could be found to arouse his son, to induce him to shake off the dangerous depression that threat- ened to destroy him, _ Richard Monkton was a wealthy and influential man, but just now his wealth and influence seemed powerless to aid him, and his thoughts were ah bitter, as he leaned against. his’ richly-carved mantel and wrestled with his sorrow. Only a few short months before young Rupert’s twin brother had been laid in the grave, and his death had grieved the affectionate brother to such an extent that nothing seemed to have power to wean him from his sorrow, until health and strength seemed slipping away from him, threatening to leave the fond father childless, They had tried change of scene, too, but Rupert had only pined the more, and begged to return, although everything at ae reminded him so strongly of his oss. Mr. Monkton’s boys had been mother- ‘less since their babyhood, although the want had sence been felf by then, her place being nobly filled by Mrs. Monk- Seiy sister, herself a widow and child- ess. But the breakfast-bell aroused the banker from his troubled thoughts, for nature must be sustained though the heart be heavy, and he took his place at the table, while his sister, Mrs. Stawatt, a gentle, sad-faced lady, poured out his coffee. “What do you think of Rupert this morning?” he Ss as he took his cup from her hand. “He appears to be somewhat brighter to-day,” the lady answered; “and he has promised to eat the breakfast that I am about to take up to him. But, indeed, Richard,” she added, “I can. only echo Dr. Fieldman’s words—if we could only succeed in getting him to shake off the depression, so unusual in a boy of his are ” é Something must be done to rouse him, The words rang in the ears of the per- plexed father, as he wended his way to the bank a half hour later. * * * * * “Paper, sir?” and the boy, a bright- faced lad of fourteen or thereabouts, ote up eagerly in the banker’s moody ace. Mr. Monkton was about to pass on, he having already read the morning papers, but a glance at the boy held him spell- bound for a second. Ee It was only a careless gesture of the waiting newsboy. With his unemployed hand he had lifted his cap to push back the mass of tangled hair that crowned his brow. A common gesture enough surely; but it had been peculiar to the boy he had lost—the gallant, manly boy, whose busy hands were folded now in the endless leisure of the tomb. Mr. Monkton might have passed a hun- dred boys that day with only a casual glance; but the sight of this one sent a ha 7 NEWS. hot, swift pang through his whole being. Something in the whole attitude of the boy brought his lost Edmond before him. So this it was, and not the newsboy’s patched and faded garments, that caused the wealthy banker to take from his pockets a handful of change, which he hastily dropped in the boy’s hand ere he hastened on his way—so hastily, indeed, that he failed to hear the sharp, clear young voice of the boy, who, detecting a gold coin among the silver, tried in vain to overtake his benefactor. But Mr. Monkton’s thoughts were with his bereavement, and it was not until several hours later that he missed the ten-dollar gold piece that had been care- lessly thrown among the change in his pocket. He was a rich man, and the money was of small value in comparison to his means; but as he was not given to such rash acts of generosity he blamed himself slightly for the sentiment that led to it, and soon forgot the incident. Meantime Teddy Russel had been forced to give up the chase though re- luctantly, all his efforts to overtake the gentleman having proved fruitless. The gongs and bells of the neighboring factories were announcing the noon hour when Teddy turned into the narrow court that served as a general yard for the dozen or so of tenants, In one of the three-roomed apartments lived Tom Baily, his wife, and seven children, not forgetting Teddy, who, al- though no kin to the warm-hearted couple, had for more ‘years than he could remember shared their homely fare and cramped surroundings. Notwithstanding many inducements to the contrary, Mrs. Baily’s brood of seven were remarkably healthy and blessed with insatiable appetites, But to-day the meal lay untasted on the board, while parents and children stood an amazed group around Teddy, who, while telling his story, was holding out to their admiring view thé shining gold coin. “But he never meant to give me that, IT am quite sure,” he continued, decidedly, as he turned it over and over, that all. the little Bailys might contemplate its shin- ing qualities, “Bet your life he didn’t!” echoed Tom Baily, as he took his place at the table, such munificent generosity having never come under his experience. The silver (which, when counted, amounted to two dollars and a half) they considered Teddy’s own, and that was duly delivered to Mrs. Baily, she being the family banker, while it was decided that an advertisement would be put in the paper, in order to restore the precious piece to its owner, for it was characteris- tic of this poor family that not one of them suggested that it could be appro- priated to their own use. ; But it was curious to notice how after that they one and all seemed to defer to Teddy, as to one on whom a mysterious honor had fallen. Mrs. Baily, kind soul, had ever treated the orphan boy as one of her own, as, indeed, she had come to con- sider him, but to-day her attendance upon him was tinged with a measure of respect that was carefully imitated by the whole family. It was Sothe days after this that Mr. Monkton again stood {in his richly-fur- nished morning room, engaged In earnest conversation with his family physician. “T can see no reason why Rupert shoul not recover his former strength if he could be induced to exert his own will in the matter,” said the doctor. could only think of something to interest him now—something that would serve to lead his mind away from the subject, that has taken such tenacious hold of his spirits, and just as soon as we can build up his strength sufficiently he must be taken away from here, where everything reminds him of his brother.” After the doctor’s departure, Mr. Monk- ton took his paper up to his son’s room, for it had come to be a custom that he would sit with him a while before he left the house for the bank. Rupert seemed to take some slight pleasure in this morn- ing visit of his father. To-day the father found him somewhat less listless than usual. s Rupert sat up in bed, propped by pil- lows, while Mrs. Stewart, his aunt, was urging him to the completion of a dainty little breakfast, that her own. hands had |, prepared forhim, ps, After the usual affectionate salutation with his boy, Mr. Monkton took his seat in the depths ef a cushioned arm-chair near a distant window. , In another moment he uttered an ex- clamation, caused by his perusal of the following advertisement in his morning paper: poe an TEN-DOLLAR GOLD PIECE.—If the gentle- A man who gave one in mistake to a newsboy, will call or send to No. 60 Watson Court and 1n- quire for Teddy Russel, tt will be returned to him, Mr. Monkton was. inexpressibly aston- ished, he had read of such things, but the like had never come under his own obser- vation, to advertise for the owner of the “af *we:|: coin, when the ill-clad boy might has kept it for his own, and in his marvel J the event, he related the incident to hi sister and son, : “Oh, father!” and in this new exci” ment Rupert forgot his weakness, a1 raised himself from his pillows. “Sen Richards with the carriage and bring thi | eee here. I would like to see and know 1im. ‘ Mrs. Stewart glanced meaningly at her. brother. Her glance said: “Gratify Rupert’s whim.” There had been so few things found lately to amuse his listless fancies, that, indeed, eheg both hailed this chance oc- casion, as they deemed it. : No mother could be more devoted to a dear child than Mrs, Stewart was to her nephew ; widowed and childless herself, her life had been darkened by a far greater sorrow, a sorrow, the particulars of which will be explained later, but from’ her own great ttouble she had turned to fill a mother’s place to her brother’s orphan boys, and when the , strongest and brightest, Edmcnd, had been taken away after afew days’ illness, , her heart was well-nigh broken, yet she ~ had conquered her own grief to minister ~ to the stricken brother, whose health —, and spirits seemed to vanish with the © loss of his loved companion, Ko: * ” * * * * Again the noon hour had arrived “er- — alded by the clamor of bells, ana~ ‘s — time the denizens of Watson Court :@ all thrown into a state of amaze at the spectacle of a handsome private cary age stopping at its entrance. : : Little Johnnie Baily stood in open- | mouthed astonishment, his gaze wander- | ing from the tall footman to the gor- 4 geously dressed gentleman on the box. = “T guess it’s the President!” he ejacu- * lated, when he’ had recovered his breath; _ but his wonder deepened when the lord! footmah inquired for Teddy; who jus then arrived, with a, bundle of, as yet, — uhsold papers under hisarm. Fe If Teddy had ever rode in stch state | before; he had entirely forgotten the cir- cumstances; but no way abashed on the’ present occasion, he took his place inthe | grand vehicle with a coolness thathighly {4 amused the well-bred pair, who, for the present, at least, were his humble at- tendants. - es Meantime, at his own urgent request, Rupert had been dressed, and now re- clined in a comfortable invalid-chaj,- The doctor had said that all. he want, was something to arouse him, anf.ie}— seemed that the means had been found, for the listless look had entirely van- sf ished, and a new light shone in his eyes, _ while a faint tinge of health had chang rs the whole expression of his countenance, _ causing the brother and sister to ex- change glances,of hopeful augury. == In the many and various events of his life as a city newsboy, Teddy had more than once looked at the homes of the — very wealthy, but the room he was now | ushered into was essentially a boy’sroom. — In the older happy days it had been shared by the twin brothers, and Rupert had ever since refused to occupy any other. , 5a Comfort and luxury had combined with the tastes and fancies of the two boys in the furnishing of the room, and to poor — Teddy, fresh from the meager apartments of the court, it seemed a very paradise. _ “So you are the Teddy Russel of the | advertisement?” queried Mr. Monkton, _ as the boy politely tendered the wonder- ful gold coin that had incidentally brought about this peice ihe Se ae “Yes, sir,” answered Teddy, as his Lar wandered from all the other objects -— the room to center on the invalid on t* couch, who, together with Mrs. Stewar . was gazing spell-bound at the wondering — Teddy. ast os 3 In some embarrassment, Teddy stood — holding his cap in one hand, while other went up in the old gesture to the waving chestnut hair that lay so thickl on his smooth brow. ; ee Yes, there was no denying it, there- semblance was startling, and so very strange, too. Teddy was a city newsboy, | fatherless and friendless, save for tue | toiling, kindly couple who had so long. and so willingly sheltered him. oa - Edmond M. Monkton’s dead son had been nurtured in Iuxury, and yet stranger—could the two have stood gether—would have taken Teddy for {7% twin-brother, rather than the pale be | whose heart now went out witha stran sweet ‘yearning to the bright-faced ly who now met him for the first time. It was arranged that Teddy would ~ and spend, the day with Rupert, anc 4 ~ Monkton sent a message to the ho — the Bailys to that effect. \ ee In everything but the magic freema. of boyhood the boys were entirel— > § similar; and yet they were not — ' becoming fast friends, to the gre light of the elder, who, noting R bright aspect in the genial com his strange new friend, soon leftt gether, rie hae ry 1a ¥F CHOOCD NEws. ae S3i * { fr. Monkton mosipones his visit ank that day, for he was forming that he hoped would serve to »0th the boys. you, too, noticed the startling re- iee to our dear Edmond?” he be- en he had closed the door of the f-room. d one fail to observe it who had wn our Edmond? Oh, brother,” ied, while the tears welled up to s, “do you know thet I could refrain from clasping the strange \t in my arms?—the_ very sight of a thrill all through me. But to ‘PRupert—why not try to engage as a companion for him? I feel / that his companionship would salutary remedy in our dear boy’s the very thing I am about _ to en- to do,” answered her brother, as ‘the bell to order the carriage. Baily was about to lift the heav his shoulder. The work was hard, poorly paid, and yet Tom’s great- dle was that there was not enough 1at long, weary winter, indeed, if not for the good wife’s washing, 'f would long ere this have forced rance® to the little tenement in , Court. But just then he heard 1e spoken, and he looked in some > at the gentleman. “onkton had made the necessary sment with Tom’s employer, so e bewildered hod-carrier was soon in the luxurious carriage, opposite valthy banker, on his way to his » home. Baily was washing, but she wiped ‘s from her arms and placed a chair » gentleman, while she looked an s inquiry in her husband’s face. re’s nothing wrong, Mary,” he no answer to her silent question. is the gentleman who sent for and he is thinking of engaging an attendant to his son.” Baily was the hard-worked of seven children, but her heart avy, in her sudden realization of ‘ting that was about to come to ‘or ten long years he had_ shared umble fortunes, and he had grown x heart as one of her own. But yr are accustomed to submit to such zs, so Mrs. Baily sighed as she lis- io Mr. Monkton’s proposal. i now,” said Tom Baily, when the ‘had informed them of all the ad- es that would accrue to their fos- _in his new life, “before we settle ng more about Teddy, it is but fair ou skgnld be informed as to how peed nct Sty. for her’s ~—have ; and ed with rst began ttle girls, who in an adjoining me to the door. F tenement-house, ts were compara- I recognized the P Me pped into the room t on the upper floor. nh, sir,’ she began, ‘do come up irs: the tenant over you is dying, I Fim afraid, and my husband is not at me, “OF course I accompanied her to the vartments of the sick man, where I tw the saddest sight my eyes had ever Meheld. The room was almost bare of furniture, and on a meager bed lay a man, not old in years, but prematurely aged by a wasting disease. On the bed beside him nestled a lovely little boy, whose sweet, innocent eyes were raised toward us in mute appeal and wonder at the solemn change that had come to his only'friend, for the little one had been kept closely secluded in the room since they had occupied it, some few weeks now. j “The man had lived alone with the ~hild, and as they were entire stangers to the rest of the tenants, my wife took tharge, for the time, of the little boy, ho responded contentedly to her .therly kindness. “Well, the man died that night; he bver recovered sufficient conscidusnéss give us the least clew as to. what. fends or relatives he might possess. .e doctor whom I had called in to a the stranger declared that the & death had been hastened by want; as there was no one toclaim the less child, my wife and I undertook ep him, at least until some one ap- + who possessed a better clair, and @did the more willingly, as thé dear clung so lovingly to us, and poor as we were, we could not bear the beautiful child go te the almea- “The little one called himself Teddy, and ' as Mary’s maiden name was Russel, we gave it to him, and from that time until this he has been to us as Our Own son. “But we soon learned to our own satis- faction that Teddy was not the child of the man who had died. Among the few effects the authorities had permitted us | to keep for Teddy, was a packet of let- ters, and one of a very recent date, in| which the writer cautioned the one to whom he wrote in respect to a child they had stolen. The child’s father was dead and bankrupt, and the game was up, and as nothing was to be gained by keeping him, it would be advisable to dispose of him in some safe, way. “There were also a few trinkets which | we carefully laid away, and which we had no doubt belonged to the child, as the mau would have surely parted with | them to procure sustenance, but for fear of detection.” Mr. Monkton had listened to the strange recital with mingled feelings of emotion and astonishment, but when Tom opened a small black box that Mary brought to him, and drew therefrom a thin gold chain, he started, as he uttered an exclamation: He had opened the small locket at- tached to the chain, and in the fair, sweet face it contained, he had recog- nized the face of his sister, Laura, as she looked before care and sorrow had changed her. “Merciful Heavens!” he ejaculatd, “the child must have been poor Laura’s boy, for this is the very chain he wore when he was stolen.” And when the banker related to the wondering couple how his sister’s child had been taken twelve long years before —stolen doubtless by wretches, in hopes of a reward. But the fear of detection had caused them to become cautious, thus defeating the recovery of the child, until health and fortune were wasted in the vain effort. Mr. Stewart had succumbed to his misfortune, thus leaving his heart- broken wife to bear her sorrows as best she might, only her trust in Heaven, and tie: brother’s kind sympathy to sustain her. Meantime, in the genial company of his new friend, Rupert was throwing off the strange depression that had so alarmed his friends. Teddy had related to him, at his re- quest, the short story of his uneventful life, as he deemed it, and Rupert had asked him how he would like to accom- pany him on a trip to the country, when health and weather would permit, and Teddy’s answer had caused’ Rupert to laugn—yes, actually laugh—for the sound had brought Mrs. Stewart into the room. But a glance at Teddy had the effect of bringing a mist into her eyes, so very much did he remind her of her favorite. Leaving the room, she met her brother. “Come down stairs, Laura,” he said, as he led the way to the parlor. Then, turning hastily when he had closed the door, he exclaimed: “Laura, dear sister, I have brought you a great joy—I have found a clew to your son.” “Oh, Richard, does my boy, indeed, live?” “He lives, Laura, and he is all your loving heart could ask.” But the heart of the mother leaped to a knowledge of his secret, and she was going to the door, her hands clasped in a new and strange emotion. “Wait, Laura,” her brother said, as he forced her to sit down and try to be com- posed “I will bring your boy to you. Be patient.” Then leaving her there, he went to Ru- pert’s room. The boys looked up when he entered, | but he only uttered a pleasant greeting to his boy, and a desire to show Teddy something down stairs. On the way down he prepared the star- | tled boy for the strange meeting that awaited him. With the characteristic gesture that. did not now seem strange to the uncle, Teddy stood shyly looking at his mother, but only for a moment, for the next her arms were about him, and he was sobbing on her breast, for this meeting had been deferred so very long, and ‘Leddy had often yearned for his mother. | And so the troubles of Teddy (or Ed- | mond, as we must now ¢all him) had come to an end, at least as far as toil and | privation and heart hunger, were con- cerned. ; Nor were his humble friends forgotten. | Neither the eratéful boy nor his new- | found relations could forget that it was | to their careful training he owed the frank Houesty that had impelled him to, restore the money not lawfully his own. Tom Baily was installed as janitor of the bank, with a liberal salary, so that Mary; good, generous heart, might de- vote her whole time to the care and nur- | ture of the little Bailys: i1 As for the older children, Mr. Monkton would take cars thet ther were helped on a | voyage. |mighty machines. Mrs. Stewart is substantially grateful to Mary, for the latter’s tender care of her lost boy. Among her most guarded treasures is the ten-dollar gold piece; it is of untold value in her eyes, for to it, under Providence, she owes the restora- tion of her dear son. Rupert has entirely recovered, and is socn to join his cousin at college. —_—_—_—_-_-~_ 9 Crossing the Ocean. EACH TRIP OF AN ATLANTIC STEAMSHIP costs $25,000—DETAILS THAT WILL AS- TONISH THE READER. \ A HEN an ocean speeder starts on an eastward voyage she carries nearly 3,000 tons of coal in her protected bunkers. Some of this is American and some foreign soft coal, and it costs about $2.50 a ton. The sooty stokers daily shovel into her roaring red furnaces between 250 and 300 tons. The expenditure for coal runs just short of $1,000 a day, or nearly $8,000 for the The cost of the gallons and gal- lons of oil used to keep her ponderous triple-expansion engines, her dynamos, her numerous smaller engines, her pumps, and so on, running smoothly combined with the coal bill, is quite $8,500. The salaries of the big ship’s company are not an unimportant factor in the ex- pense account. Among the 300 persons who look after the working of the racer and the comfort of her passengers are captain, eight officers, one surgeon, twenty-five engineers and machinists, two pursers, five boatswains, twenty- eight seamen, one hundred and fourteen firemen, sixty-five waiters and waitresses, twenty-two,cooks, bakers, and assistants, two carpenters, one barber, and fourteen skilled musicians. The total wages of these for a trip of eight days is about $2,000, not counting perquisites, The captain receives the highest salary. It varies between $3,000 and $4,000 a year, and depends somewhat on the earn- ings of the ship, of which he receives a smal) percentage. This is the way the skippers of all the colossal racing craft OX |are paid, and it is not likely that any of them are going to cease racing, or to be censured for it, as long as a fast trip means money in their pockets and in the coffers of their company. Every hour the captain of the steamer saves means a saving in coal alone of $50. Next in importance to the captain of an ocean speeder is the chief engineer. He is not as frequently visible to the cabin passengers as his gold-laced superior, and nobody makes much fuss over him, but he is, in the opinion of his _employ- ers, a very big man indeed. He is the man who makes the great ship “git up and git.” He submits daily reports of how things are going on down below to the captain. He tells how many tons of coal he is using, how much _ indicated horse- power he obtains, and the number of revolutions the ship’s propellers make a minute. If he doesn’t get as much speed out of the clanking twin giants as the captain thinks he ought to, the captain ‘pats him on the back and tells him to whoop her up, like a good fellow. It is essential to the captain's interest that he should be friendly with the boss of the For his great work the chief engineer receives $160 a month and board, which is equal to that of the cabin passengers. The chief officer re- ceives $80 a month, which is more than the captains of many steamships of the / second class get. The food’ and drink consumed by pas- sengers and crew cost about $16,000, This is the complete list of the things that were necessary to make life aboard the luxurious floating hotel something like a dream. Twothousand five hundred bot- tles of red wine, 2,000 bottles of Rhine wine, 2,000 bottles of champagne, 1,200 bottles of cordials, 15,000 bottles of_ beer, 80 kegs of beer, 400 bottles of ale and porter, 2.500 bottles of mineral water, 37,000 gallons of drinking-water, 70,000 pouses of potatoes, 1,600 pounds of eans, peas, and so on, 2,500 cases of fruit, 1,500 pounds of jellies, tarts, and biscuits, 45 baskets of jellies, 7,000 pounds of butter, 1,200 pounds of cheese, 10,000 eggs, 3,500 pounds of sugar, 1,500 pounds of coffee, 1,000 pounds of tea, 250 pounds of chocolate, 150 gallons of milk, 10,000 apples, 1,200 oranges, 1,000 lemons, 400 glasses of preserved fruits, 120 bar- rels of flour, 65 galloris of ice-cream, 17,- 000 pounds of beef, 12,000 pounds of mut- ton, 1,800 pounds of ham, smoked beef, and bolognas, 1,000 pounds of veal, 7,000 pounds of bacon, 600.npounds of pork, 600 pounds of gare, 500 pounds of canned meat, 250 pounds of lamb, 90 barrels of preserved meat, 20 barrels of salt pork, 6,000 pounds of fish, 450 chickens, | 180 ducks, 60 turkbys, 60 partridges, and 50 Meese, e : From the foragoing fasta and fguten ib may be said that one trip costs not less than $23,000. To offset this expenditure, which does not include the cost of insur- ance, the steamer must carry many pas- sengers and some freight. The number of passengers varies, of course, according to the season. She carries in midsummer sometimes nearly five hundred first and second cabin and about three hundred steerage voyagers. The average price of a first-cabin passage is about $110, and that of a second cabin about $60. The average price of steerage accommoda- tions is $22. The receipts from all classes of passengers on a good midsummer trip are over $50,000. Usually the large steamers carry 800 tons of freight which, at the transportation rate of about $10 a ton, amounts to $8,000. The cost of loading and unloading this freight is borne by the company. In the dull season the big twin-screw ships do not make much, but their receipts through- out the year are large enough to warrant the declaration that they are great suc- cesses financially. —____~+-0-—_____—_ Chinese Papers in America. *TAHERE are but two genuine Chinese q newspapers in America, and both 4 are published in San Francisco. They are not printed with movable type, but by the tines process. ‘he Wa Kee is edited Mr. Tee-Jen, and he has no sinecure. He works from early morning till long after dark, paint- ing Chinese characters with chemical ink on specially prepared sheets of paper about the size of a sheet of legal cap. As soon as one of them is covered with characters it is handed over to one of the lithograpers, who transfers the writing to the stone. That work completed, the stone is affixed to a simple wooden press, resembling the oJd presses in use when the art of printing first came into vogue. There it awaits its companion stone, the press being large enough to accommodate two stones. This work goes on until four stones have been made for the four pages of the paper, when the rea] work of poe the sheet commences. Strips of paper the requisite width are cut, and one at a time an impression is made on them by the stones, The process is very slow and tedious, for as soon as a sufficient number of papers have been printed, the labor has to be gone all over again in order to print the other side of the sheet. Owing to the peculiar construction of the Chinese language, only eight thou- sand words are sufficient to cover the four pages of the paper and convey to the readers a great amount of information. The other paper published in ’Frisco is the Ton-Fan-San Bo (Chinese-American newspaper). The office and paraphernalia of this paper are the same as the other, only that the title appears on the last in- stead of the first page. Mun-Kee, the editor of this paper, started it in 1876. He has the advantage over his rival in that he speaks the Eng- lish language fluently. His paper has a cireulation of 750 copies, over which he has to work three days to get them into the hands of his readers. Neither of these papers has any politi- cal or religious tendencies, devoting its space to recording news and answering correspondents. The average Chinaman is very economical, and this tendency leads him to try to borrow his neighbor’s paper rather than buy one himself. If it were not for that fact the two papers would have a more extended circulation. —_——_+ ¢-o___——_- CoNVERSATION becomes painful when replies are made, not to words uttered, but to words suppressed. aici FOR SCROFULA | scrofulous humor in the blood, ulcers, catarrh, and — consumption, use Ayer’s Sarsaparilla The most economical, safe, speedy, and effective of ail blood-purifiers. Has Cured Others will cure you. 832 Puzzle Corner. [Original contributions solicited. Please do not wend puzzles containing obsolete words. Address, ePiiazle Editor’ Goop NEws, New York City, P. O. Box 273A.) No. 1— D1amonp. 1. Part of Goop NrEws. g. A kind of meat. 8. An article, 4, For, 5. Part of Good NEws. No, 2—ANAGRAM. Wash gate on this side, +- SNUG. E, F. RFE, No. 3—CHANGED HEADS. First } am quick. Change my head and J am part of a ship. Again, and I am the end. Again, andI am gone by, R. M. No, 4—Worp SQuaRE. 1. To stain. 2. To regard. 8, Above, - 4, A boundary. Answers to Puzzles in No, 61 Good News. No. 1— SILVER CITY. Dentistry. Pind went tovisit Marion, and while going | was caught in a snow-storm. She finally reached | her triend’s house. Whenshe got there her friend | was about going to town, and so they went to- | gether. They got some mull to make a dress, for | they were golng to a party. As they were go- | ing to the party they metseven hunters, who were | intoxicated from drinking rum. They arrived all right; however, at their destination. For refresh- | ments they had tea, ice cream, chocolate cake, | and orange cake. They staid all night at thetr | friend’s who gave the party, and In the night | Florence had a nightmare from eating cake. Marion was awakened by some one pulling her | hair, and subsequently found out that her friend | thought she was on Crooked Lake, rowing along its crooked shore, in her boat. The next morn- ing Victoria and Albert came after Florence, who | was their sister. The sister told Marion that she would hope to see her at the family reunion at her | home on Christmas Day. No. 8— E—ar. R—abbitt. J~—ndlan, E—leven. No. 9— 5 Henry M. Stanley. PUZZLE SOLVERS. Chester Franklin, Francis Meyer, Jos. A. Cordes, Wm. G. Schmittberger, Amy C. Gill. Three Books Given Away to Every Reader| YrRE EH. | SERIES “B®” BOOK PREMIUMS. elie Spt aig On the first page of Goop Nrws, from Nos. 19 to 30, inclusive, appeared a coupon. ‘These coupons are num- bered from: 1 to 12, inclusive, and by sending us the set complete we will send you any three books in the “‘Goop ao eepnteiel that you may select from the follow- ng list. There are no conditions in this premium offer except to send us the complete set numbering from 1 to 12, in- clusive. Make Your Own Selections. “GOOD NEWS” LIBRARY No. 1.—CAMP AND CANOE; or, Cruise of the Red Jackets in Florida, by St. George Rathborne. No. 2.—SENT ADRIFT; or, Around the World on Highty Cents, by Henry A. Wheeler. No. 3.—A, YOUNG BLUE JACKET; or, En- listed for the War, by Robert i). Morse. o 4.—-BOY CARIBOU-HUNTERS;_ or, Treasure-Trove of Hudson Bay; by Charles or, «B. Cross ABOARD 3 The Rival Boat Clubs, by Weldon J. Cobb. No. 5.—ALL No. G.—EVERKY INCH A BOY; or, An pone Actor’s Adventures, by John Tulk- inghorn. No. 7.—WORKING HIS WAY3 or, The Brookville Boys’ Club, by Dwight Welden No. 8.--TOM, BROWN’S PLUCK 3: or, The Fortunes of a Soldier Boy, by Major A. F, Grant. No. 9.—-BRIGHT AND EARLY; or, The 30y Who Became a Detective, by Jobn Tulkinhorn. No. 1U.—ONE CENT CAPITAL; or, A Young Clerk’s Adventure, by Archie Van No. 11.—WESTWARD HOL The in the Clearing, by Henry L? Black | No. 12.—AFLOAT WITH A CIRCUSS or, | oe + iniema aati gales of Natal, by Henry 4. Black. We will send any one of the above books, postae free, | on receipt of 10 certs. Address “Goop News LIBRARY” (Street & Smith), 31 Rose Street, New York. Back numbers of Goop NEws always on hand. Cabin | tain ? | is both useful and ornamental | opens flat as any book, and each week’s paper can be | YWAMETE: IS ott B (A The Irishman, the William Goat, and the Dynamite Cartridge. Short Stops. A CLOTHES Carriage—The laundry wagon. In what vehicle did the man ride who was driven frantic ? WHEN does a lawyer work like a horse? When he draws a conveyance. *‘Don’r touch me, or I'll scream!” as the engine whistle said to the stoker. Ir a4 man won't act on the square, the best thing is to deal roundly with him. ELEcTRIC hoisting engines for dock use are among the latest devices introduced. Way Is the success of the Arctic expedition cer- Because it cannot get into hot water. SOME women are pretty, and don’t know how to dress ; other women know how to dress, but are not pretty. THE amount of crape on a widow’s dress is more an indication of how much money he left her, than how much she loved him. AN old lady declares that the only way a travel- er can avoid being killed by railroad collisions now-a-days, is always to take the other train, EuGene—‘‘Come, sit down on the shelly shore, and hear the mighty ocean roar.” Amelia—‘‘I can’t sit down, you silly goose, be- cause I’d burst my pin-back loose.” Youna man, when an old man tells you that people can never love but once, set him down as a Our Mail Bag. igerenenn on subjects of general interest only are dealt with in the “Mail Bag.” Medical or legal questions not answered. Goop Nkrws goes to press two weeks in advance of date of publication, and there- fore answers cannot appear until two or three weeks after we receive them. Communications intended for this column should be addressed “Goop News” Mail Bag, P. O. Box 2734, New York City.) + W. W #H. (Omaha, Neb.)—The story will not appear in book form, I. T. (Camden, N. J.)\—We do not offer prizes for puz- zle solvers. H. C. H. (Yazoo City, Miss.)—We thank you for your kind opinion. Clerk (Muskegon, Mich.)—Apothecary’s weight is the same pound of twelve ounces all over the world. W. H. F. (Ravenels, 8. C.)—A letter addressed to Phila- delphia, Pa., will reach the paper you inquire about. B. T. (Cazenovia, N. Y..—We have no recollection of ever seeing the story in a paper. L.A. M. (Washington, D. C.)\—We do not know of any market for rare foreign coins. Reader (Boston, Mass.)—There is a premium of three cents on a cent dated 1802. L. R. and W. G. (Colambus, Ohio.)—Write to the post- master of your city. A, R. N. Brooklyn, N. Y.)—Apply to the superinten- dent of the road. Unknown (Wataga, I).)—It is not a trick but founded on scientific principals. F. J. 7, (St. Louis, Mo.)—1, The matter you write us about will receive our attention. 2 Itis a question of opinion. G. H. T. Fayetteville, N. C.\—We do not think it fair deceiver. If the girl has money tn the bank every time, a man can love forty different times. | Good News Binder. Price 50 Cents. Answers the purpose of a bound volume. toinsert an exchange notice more than once a month from the same party. VTASEHLINE. OR ONE DOLLAR sent us by mail, we will deliver, free of all charges, toany person in the United States, all the following articles carefully packed in a neat box: One two ounce bottle of Pure Vaseline, 10 cts. One two-ounce bottle Vaseline Fomade, 15 ‘ One jar of Vaseline Cold Cream ......., 15 One cake of Vaseline Camphor Ice...... 10 One cake of Vaseline Soap, unscented... 10 One cake of Vaseline Soap, scented...... 25 One two ounce bottle of White Vaseline 25 —$1.10 Or for stamps any single article at the price. , If you have occasion to use Vaseline in any form be careful to accept only genuine goods put up by us in original packages. A great many druggists are trying to persuade buyers to take VASELINE put up by them. Never yield to such persuasion, as the article is an imitation without value, and will not give you the result you expect. A bottle of Blue Seal Vaseline is sold by: all druggists at ten cents, Chesebrough M’f’g Co., 24 State St., New York. TO BOYS AND GIRLS UNDER The WESTERN PEARL CO. will giveaway 1000 or more first- classsafety bicycles (boy’s or girl’s style) for advertising purposes. If you want one on very easy conditions, with- out ic. of money for it, address. enclosing stamp for par- It is, withont doubt, the’finest binder ever offered, even for double the price we ask, and is indispensable to those who are keeping their papers, as it not only reserves Goop News for future reference, and from Beitie lost, but keeps them clean and in good order, . It It has a durable black embossed covér with flexible back, and a gold stamp title on the outside cover. It inserted as soon as received. Full directions for insert- ing the peer accompany each binder. We will send the Goop Nrews binder and a package of ticnlars. WESTERN PEARL CO..308 Dearborn St.Chicago, IN, HOTO of your future Husband or Wifo FREE! tm - Send Stamp for Postage. - ELIMAX co 9 CHIGAGO, iLL, ee ¥ oS thle 8) Or, Ree dead, and Aegis frien ture orders. Place nameand sid make any change in picture you wish, not in binder pins, postpaid, to any address on receipt of 60 cents. 0. EF. B. (Grahams, Ont.)\—The books y aout were published in England, and are print. K. C. Knoxville, Tenn.)—1. Write to th dant of Annapolis, Md., Naval Academy. is only worth its face value, A. H. (St. Louis, Mo.)—1. You write a gor hand. 2. Write to Seth Low, LL.D., presi umbia College, New York city. A. P. (Chicago, Tll.)—Write to the manu the game in Cleveland, Ohio. He will gladl full particulars. J. C. B. (New York.)—1. Yes. 2. The first the second page is proper. Goop NEews cx teen pages. There is no such page as secc first page. B, F. (Charleston, 8S. C.)—Canaries are tz by playing them over repeatedly on a t flute. We have never heard of a concertiz and we should scarcely think it the most strument for a canary to learn singing fro S. C. (New York.)—Frogs have four legs toes on the fore feet and five on the hind. of smell in these creatures is very imperfe tongue is not an organ of taste; the sense fish is very obtuse. T. J. G. (Glouster, Ohio.)\—1. “Should the 5 regulate the sale of spirituous liquor,” mig subject for debate in a temperance society. find what vou are looking forin any tempe book. 3. The name does not appear in histo Taylor (Chicago, Ill.)—1. Address ““Goop } change Department), P. O. Box 2734, New Yc “White Horse Fred” is the name of the her Castlemon’s story,which appeared in Goop ] No. 35'to No. 49 inclusive. 3. General Wm. ] B. E: Salt Lake City, Utah.)—1. Read answe (Wilmington, Del.) in this column. 2 We swer mail bag questions by mail. Answers ear in this column in turn. 3. Your handy oe to become a good business hand with a ice, W. DL. (Goshen, IN. ¥.)—It preoheaae state that you take our paper regularly, t) not aware that we do not send the premium less you send us twelve coupons, Please rea the announcement of Series “B” book pr this issue Birdie (Memphis,‘Tenn.)—1. Excelsior, tow, is used in taxidermy. 2. We have a boo ““Taxidermist’s Manual” in 8. & 8. Manual 1 12, price, ten cents. For sale by all newsdea will send it, postpaid, upon receipt of price. is a complete manual ot instruction for the ginners. B. F. (Dubuque, Iowa.)—To clean a violin t small piece of flannel, wet it (cold process), | with best yellow soap, double it, holdin gently between finger and thumb, rub wont using plenty of soap; rinse flannel, wipe off dry with a roe of calico or linen. In an I ward it will be ready for the resin. R. F. A. (Huntington, West Va.)—1. If you sleep seven persons aboard the launch, you quire one at least thirty-five feet in length modate that number, but if you intend t land, then you could use a smaller size, say { or thirty feet. Yor cruising, we would recor with a deck on, what is called a canopy storm curtains. «. Catalogue sent you. E. A. R. (Ridesville, West Va.)—1. If you hi paying situation remain where you are by n your trade one makes more money wher acquainted. Our advice to youisto save yc and start in business for yourself when you older and have mastered the trade in all its ¢ you were in a large city you would only branch of the trade, whereas, you now have tunity to learn the trade entire, 2. Your ha is very good, and judeing from it one woul you were a bookkeeper or a correspondent mercial business. C. L. (Wilmington, Del.)—1: Your pazg is best for fs saulusr boys trial t. ordinar. content wave” is W lost when sailor in ou NEws Nos. 233 [Several com week.) ts k MCilit Notiricarion of H. tenant in the U. 8. V. C! [EASY METHOD 8. & 8. Manual Library, PRICE 10 CENTS. The most efficient and easy method of learning the art based upon the experiences of a professionel exhi itor. Amusing dialogues for beginners, Ventriloj quism and mimicry for the million. Apart from th financial value attached to the professional: exhibition of this art, there is much pleasure and amusement be derived from its practice among one’s friends. ¥or sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent, postpaid» upon receipt of price, 10 cents, by the publishers, STREET & SMITH, 31 Rose Street, N. Y SAVE MONEY ON By send- Dayton,O ing to A. W ‘ 6U MP& C0 » for list, Bicycles, Guns, and Typewriters taken in exchange, Difficult Repairing. Over 1200 Cyclesin stock. Here are samples: — Cost. Price, Broncho Safety, new, $135. $100 Am. Rambler, good as new, 125. pane Safety, 30 in., ball bearings, new, 90 oy-s Safety, 24in., rubber tires, new, SPEAKING OF DOGS. A book of stories about Dogs is to be published b me. Instances of bravery, sagacity or anecdo 5; desired. For further particulars address, JAS. W. CARTWRIGHT, Jr., P. Q. Box 1239, Boston, Mass., WU. 8. Be sure and use **Mire. Winsla le O ° peda ° 7 A) DA 3: make yo a & f deas & sample of ow work. and use your infinence in gnonsing. will bereturned i ‘ectorder. perch cehetea eins dieiibtaeee ; AddressalimailtoPACIFIC PORTRAIT HOUS MOTHERS Soothing Syrup” for your chi while Teething. .°25 cents ab frowi dateofthianater. Wishing to Introdase 4 me tiy CHAY OH PORTRAITS execs" ee and make new customers, we have decided rm f yourself or any member of il vin: CRAYON POR! a ur ot oI ng Refer toany Bankin Chie! £, 108 & 110 Randolph St.,CHICACO, IL