Entered According to Act of Congress, in the Year 1892, by Street & Smith, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washingion, D. O. Entered as Second-class Matter at the New York, N.Y., Post-Office, April 2, 1892. Vol. 4. aad Se Aeca lag Se sate St New York. April 2. 1892. Five CENTS PER Cory. No. 100. Subscription Price, $2.50 per Year. 5 -} A PLUCKY PAIR ON BOARD THE MINNESOTA. 3 By ENRIQUE H. LEWIS. a AUK : il / mG | wy ‘: AT Ml 7 i iq a ie , 3 Hla" 9 2 ee, Us = re > a ANAT | aN petted TM Me”2A94j PHIL DID NOT SEE A DARK FIGURE ASIT GLIDED UP BEHIN = = } z \ WI ih tT ath mr | : = j b\ \ sepa iN mo, i : | WN ITT a 18 ; 7 | | NW ) } Hi , : HN} } y . VW ) i) Hi) Mf yy) 7 ¥ ly WAN , Bie 19 3 | y re L | | SS = { = CA Q 4 : 3 ee | WS % », Ht} ale Dx > f | y § 4 I f = \s? ea ET i ee se 33. Sua een eeetak \+ ¥ "Wr ARE NOT ADMIRALS, AND DON’T PRETEND TO BE,” CRIED PHIL. “IF YOU DON’T KEEP A CIVIL TONGUE IN YOUR HEAD, LL MAKE Your 1586 UNCLE SAM’S JACK TARS: A Puy Pa on Bar the Mies, By ENRIQUE H. LEWIS. — CHAPTER I. ON BOARD THE MINNESOTA. ELL, Phillip, my boy, so you are GooDpD The ‘appearance of an officer in a neat, undress uniform put a stop to Dick’s search after naval lore. “These two boys wish to enlist, you say; well, they look bright and intelli- gent. I presume you are their er etess. “Yes, sir; this is my son, and this gen- tleman is the father of the other. ‘They have our full consent to enter the ser- vice.” “Messenger, take these gentlemen and the boys down to the doctor. Give my compliments to the executive officer, and tell him that two boys have come aboard and wish to enter the service.” x going to be a sailor, eh?” “Yes, sir, father has at last riven his consent. Dick and l start for New York to-morrow where we are to enter as apprentices on the Minne- sota. “What! Dick Blount, too? Well, he will be as well off there as at home, poor fellow; he hasn’t had a very pleasant time since his mother died. Good luck to you, my lad, I wish you every success in your new life,” and the kindly old an shook the boy’s hand as he ade him a hearty good-by. Phillip Foster had long wished to enter the American navy. Born in a little sea- port town not far from New York, he had epent his life in sight of the busy Sound thronged with stately ships and mam- moth steamers, Close communication with old sailors, who gloried in spinning weird yarns of thrilling adventures on the vasty deep to the Bright-faced lad, cast an atmosphere.of dreamy romance around him, and he willingly succumbed to its glamor and illustrious traditions. His mother had died when he was six years of age, leaving him an only child to the care of a spinster aunt who, al- though doing all in her power for the motherless boy, yet could not furnish a maternal love and care. After months of steady importunities Mr. Foster at last consented, and it was with a heart bursting with joy and happy anticipations that the lad hurried over to his chum’s house to break the glorious news. Dick Blount found little difficulty in Setting consent to accompany him. His ather had unfortunately married a lady of shrewish disposition after the death of his first wife, and, with the taciturnity of a man devoted to his books, did not notice the gradual estrangement of his first son. Mrs. Blount had two children of her own, and could not find room in her narrow heart for her oe stepson. The two chums were nearly the same age, Phillip several months the eldest. e had just passed his sixteenth year and was a stalwart built lad, whose manly form, surmounted by a well-turned head, crowned with chestnut curls, be- tokened a splendid specimen of the American youth. It was not belied by a closer look at his face, which bore the imprint of a determined nature, softened by almost womanly brown eyes, set far apart beneath the white, well-shaped brow. Dick was somewhat smaller but his well-knit frame gave a promise of manly strength. In his frank open face there lurked a mischievous gleam, which showed a propiyays for frolicsome sport, although honest and steadfast. On the following morning the two boys arose betimes and peek’ their modest trunks with gleeful alacrity. After spend- ing several hours visiting old friends, and bidding farewell to the haunts of their boyish pleasures, they awaited the hour of departure with many glances at the leaden hands of the old town clock. ' At last the long wished for hour ar- rived, and they boarded the train midst hearty adieus from numerous friends who had assembled at the depot to bid them God speed. Mr. Foster and Mr. Blount accompanied them, as it was Peery to have their arents’ consent before being permitted oO enlist. After a journey of several hours, the party arrived at the Grand Central Sta- tion and took the elevated for Twenty- third street. From there they boarded a cross-town car, as the Minnesota was lying in the North River off that street. On arriving at the dock, a little steam launch soon put them aboard the famous old war-ship. Accustomed as they were only to the little TE or schooners that called at their small seaport town, the enormous hull of the Minnesota seemed like a huge leviathan of the deep. Her lofty spars and masses of intricate rigging brought many awe-inspired ex- ressions of; astonishment from the two ads. ; “Oh, Phil, I wonder if we have to go out on those little sticks up there?” “Sticks?” replied that youth with an air of superior knowledge; “those are yards, and you have to run out on them when she’s rolling almost upside down. Huh! that’s nothing either; I’ve been told that you can’t come down the ladder, ~The party passed down a narrow hatch- way leading to the gun deck and entered the sick bay, an enclosed space devoted to the medical department. The two gentlemen waited outside while the boys were being examined. In about half an hour the lads emerged with beaming faces, and their joyous actions plainly indicated that they had successfully passed the rigid examina- tion. After an interview with the executive ofticer, and the signing of sundry papers, Phil and Dick became full-fledged naval apprentices. “Now, sir,” asked Mr. Blount, “when would it be best to send the boys’ trunks on board?” The officer visibly smiled and ans- wered, “Well, Iam afraid the lads will have to get along without such an article. The presence of three hundred boxes on board would not leave much room for the crew. We supply a strong canvas bag which answers the purpose just as well.” Both gentlemen laughed at Mr. Blount’s natural mistake. “Another matter I wish to ask about, lieutenant. When will they be given liberty to visit their home? I wouldn’t care to have them start off on a long voy- age before seeing them again.” “It is a strict rule of the department not to allow enlisted men to léave the ship until their salary equals the amount of the clothing debt. Te the case of an apprentice boy, it generally means over two months, but you are at liberty to pay the money in advance, and they will be permitted to go ashore any time.” fter a consultation the two parents concluded that it would be best to settle at once and allow their sons tostart with a clear set of books. Mr. Blount and Mr. Foster paid the amount required, and after bidding the boys an affectionate good-by took their leave. Then followed a day full of surprises and gatified pride to Phil and Dick. They were each given a full outfit of clothing, and when attired in the trim suits of blue with its rolling white-taped collar and jaunty cap, they looked every inch the sailor. As they strutted up and down the ex- tensive spar deck they congratulated each other on the happy culmination of their boyish ambition. “I say, Dick, tip us your flipper, me hearty. How’s she headin’ ?” Diek looked at Phil with undisguised admiration and answered: “Why, you are a Jack tar already; where did you learn all that?” “Been reading up.” Just then a boy but little older than themselves, who, from his air of great self-possession and nautical roll had evi- dently been some time on board, burst out laughing, and, turning toa grinning com- rade remarked : “Say. Jimmy, get on to the two ad- mirals.” Phil reddened and, clinching his fists, walked up to the scoffer. “Look here, I want you tobe careful what you are saying. We are not ad- mirals and don't ae to be. If you don’t keep a civil tongue in your head, I’ll make you!” “Oh, ho!” replied the other with swag- gering air, “you’re looking for a fight, eh? Well, I am williag. Look out for your eye!” The two boys clinched with- out further words. The loud conversation and their pugi- listic actions soon brought a crowd of boys around the group. Cries of “Go it,” “Hit him in the nose,” etc., resounded on all sides. For afew minutes there was a lively tussle. Dick looked on with kindling eye and watched warily for any undue partisan interference. Suddenly a man clad in the uniform of a chief petty officer rushed up, and to the exclamation of, “Cheese it, here comes Jimmy Leggs,” the audience melted away like magic, leaving the excited comba- tants in the grasp of that official. CHAPTER II. A DASTARDLY DEED. OME to the mast, you young ras- cals! What does this mean?” Catching Phil and the other boy by — their collars, the master-at-arms lugged them down to the lower deck and 1G but have to shin down a back stay, as they call it,” up to where an officer wearing a sword was looking through a port, NEWS. “Sir, [have just caught these two ap- prentices fighting on the spar deck.” The lieutenant turned, and with a sharp glance at the culprits said in a stern voice: “Don’t you know it is against the rules of the ship to create a disturbance? Now, what have you to say for yourself?” With a look of independence Phil stepped forward and replied: “TI ain very sorry, sir, but this boy was jeering at me and my friend, and I could not stand it.” “Well, it is rather rushing things to break one of the regulations the first day you are on board. You must be more careful, and hereafter leave all such dis- putes until you go on shore. Now, Robert Gorman, if I hear of you teasing new boys apa I’ll have you confined. Go forward.” As they passed up on deck the discom- fited youth turned toward Phil, and with a face red with passion said: “V1l get even, you dirty sneak !” Phil gave him a look of contempt and rejoined Dick by the engine room hatch, where he had been waiting with im- patience to learn the result of the affray. “Well, I'm afraid I haven’t made a very good start, but it can’t be helped. I am not going to let any boy make a fool ofme. After all, I got the best of it, and the officer gave mea piece of advice I'll follow hereafter.” Whereupon Phil related all that had occurred at his first tribunal, not forget- ting Gorman’s threat on the ladder. “We will have to look out for that fel- low,” added Dick, with a meaning jerk of the thumb toward where their possible enemy was standing engaged in conver- sation with his friend, Jimmy. “Oh, I am not afraid of anything he can do. Let’s look about the ship.” They walked up and down ie deck, gazing with great curiosity at the many inside details of a man-of-war. The old- fashioned guns projecting their frowning muzzles through numerous port holes es- pecially attracted their attention. As the Minnesota is only an obsolete relic’ of the late war, she is not equipped with the modern death-dealing weapons of the newer ships, but to the unsophisticated minds of the two boys, they appeared formidable engines of destruction. Phil cast yearning glances aloft, and informed Dick in a whisper that he would like to see how fast he could run up the ratlines. “My, but it looks a mile up there. I wonder if you have to crawl through the little hole in that platform where the other mast begins?” “That’s the lubber’s hole. Of course you have to go through that. On mer- chant ships they make you climb outside, but in the navy you are allowed to use it.” Just then the shrill notes of a boat- swain’s whistle sounded loud and clear from the deck beneath, and immediately all the boys were seen scampering below in great haste. As one passed by, Dick asked him what was the matter. “That’s the supper call,” he was ans- wered; “you had better hurry up or you won’t get any grub.” Our heroes followed the hurrying crowd and soon found themselves on the gun deck forward where a number of lon tables were strung in rows, covered with tin pans, pots and spoons. They were speedily shown to some empty seats and told to fall to. Everything was clean and neat, but the food was hardly that of a hotel, and they soon noticed the vast difference from their own comfortable home. As the novelty wore off, they ate with the vigor of boyish appetites and arose at the conclusion entirely satisfied. After supper the master-at-arms gave them a couple of hammocks, and detailed a seaman to reveal the mysteries of that unique bed. The old salt took a kindly interest in his task and explained how the oblong pieces of canvas, with row of small holes at each end, was attached to a couple of iron rings by numerous clews. Then he placed the mattress and blanket inside and lashed the whole into a compact cylinder-shaped bundle. Just as he com- pleted the lesson, hammocks were piped down and the boys were assigned to their places on the berth deck. It was a queer bedroom to Phil and Dick, accustomed to their own little chambers at home. The ‘tween decks was but dimly lighted by an occasional lamp placed here and there against the sides. Swinging from hooks in the beams overhead were scores of hammocks close together, and, busily engaged in opening them for the night, were chattering boys of all age and conditions. Phil noticed with annoyance that his next neighbor was Bob Gorman, but that worthy was whistling away in evident unconcern, and appeared as if the little encounter that afternoon had entirely passed out of his mind. “Come on, Phil, let’s go up stairs and see the lights on the shore,” said Dick, The titter ran through the crowd of boys nearest them, and Phil replied in @ ~ shocked whisper: “On deck, you idiot; there ain’t any stews onaship. Come, let’s get out of this.” Poor Dick followed him, covered with confusion, but in the open air soon forgot his slip in wonder at the beautiful sight spead out before them. Darkness had falten, and myriad lights flashed from tbe shores of the mighty river. Stretching as far as the eye cou see were gleaming points, now low dow as if touching the surface, and then high on the top of some lofty building, like the waining signal from a thousand beacons. Anon a river steamer would pass close by, the monotonous clang of its ponder- ous walking beam sounding like the growl of some sea monster. Then a little tug would dart into view and pass out 0 sight in the distant gloom with a fare- well shriek. It was all like the rapia- turning pages of an unknown book 0 wonderful pictures to the two boys, aD they stood rapt until the sound of the boatswain’s whistle told the hour of rest. On returning to the berth deck, they found that most of their shipmates ba already retired, and the sound of a meio- dious ‘snore, or an incoherent outburst from some dreaming lad, showed tha insomnia was an exception and not the rule on board ship. Now came the puzzling question, how to get into the swaying hammock, AS it was suspended on most uncertain priD; ciples, it did not afford thesteady base of a four post bedstead. ee Phil at last assisted Dick in the difli- cult operation, and concluded, after muc study, that the safest plan would be t0 grasp the hooks overhead and, with ® hearty swing, try to throw his body inl the novel cot. After disrobing and placing his clothes beneath the mattress as a pillow, be secured a firm hold and, with a one, tW three, lighted squarely in the center- Crack ! a half eésetied exclamation, uf ominous thud, and then with a cy alarm, Dick had’ jumped to the deck a? beheld Phil lying silent and motionless amid a confused heap of bedding. In an instant, the silent quarters be- came alive with a host of half clad for crowding around the spot, and asking Z excited whispers what had happenets ‘the unusual noise soon brought the cor poral of marines with a lighted lanter?. After bidding the curious onlookers fe turn to their hammocks, he made a bas examination and, lifting the limp for™ of the injured boy in his arms, bore hi to the sick bay. The surgeon from the wardroom, and after a Sly moned was hastily sumiperal application of cold water to Phil’s hea | soon brought him to. be A cursory inspection revealed that not a ing had occurred more serious. thas rather violent bump on the cranium. int was deemed best, however, to keep h ia in the bay all night, and a cot, much™ me comfortable than the cause of his ¥ lucky mishap, was given to him. had Dick, who in the anxiety for news as crept close to the door, heard the ie able diagnosis with heartfelt glad #- for he had in his boyish way a grea him for the manly lad, and looked up to der with the admiring reverence due an © rtD brother. On his way back to the ber. deck, he noticed a lad crouching 12 shade of the foremast, who as he panid nearer touched him on the arm and § in a low voice: for: “Sh-h-h, ‘go upon the spar deck ! ward; I have something to tell you» ahead, I’l] follow in a moment.” pi Dick gazed at him in surprise, but § ing that the trembling youth was ev) dently in earnset, obeyed, wondering; at he climbed up the hatchway ladder, W) on earth was going next to hapPer er: this eventtul first day of their new CaM 1, In a few seconds he was joine the young apprentice, who drew him into friendly seclusion of canopy. The night was clear and a cool bread whistled through the cordage Ove op with a weird uncanny sound. wll the gangway a solitary marine slo pete back and forth, his heav witD tapping on the hard pine dec ; monotonous regularity. t “I want to tell you something abou that accident that you and your ought to know. I have been long enous: in the service to know that a ham” is won’t break so easy as all that, +10 pered the lad. “I sleep in the nex and after turning in, noticed some ¥ Ke fooling about your friend’s clews. Z pad | ing maybe it was some fellow W c mistaken the location, I didn’t pare if more attention until the thing hepy After you had all gone to the sit | I took a quiet look at the wreck found, just as I expected, that the lanyard had been cut.” Dick uttered a ery of indigna information, : it of g “The villain! What a mean trick wish I knew who it was, I'd pay e os | chur W 4 ; one fe A bays - Bs Ne ae head tion at tbe di eee. bee ee, eh Be oe he ue ba ae oS es ee. Se er ps in re De re- GOooD NEWS. 1587 Clinching his fists he strode up and down in angry disregard of his surround- ings. Took out! the sentry will see you,” cautioned his companion in a whisper. “Come down below, and I’ll show you the cut rope, and you can report it to- morrow to the ‘first luff,’ but, I ae don’t let on it was I that told you. I haven’t any idea who the fellow was, and it wouldn’t do any good for me to act as witness.” So saying, he_ stole cs in the shadows, closely followed by Dick, and they soon reached the scene of Phil’s disaster. 5 A single glance at the head lashing re- vealed the fact that it had. been cut half ‘through, the incised edges leaving no doubt that some one’s knife had severed the strands for a malicious purpose. It was a most criminal action, and might have resulted fatally. Falling from a height of almost five feet on to a hard plank is no laughing matter. CHAPTER III. THE RIVER PIRATES, HE following morning, when Phil rejoined his chum, Dick related all 4 that had been told by the friendly young apprentice. Phil’s indignation almost impelled him to make an immediate report and ask for an investigation but he was loath to cause any trouble while so short a time in the service. After talking it over they concluded to let the matter pass and keep a sharp look-out for their enemy. After several days of uneventful routine, the news spread about the ship that a draft of boys would he sent the next evening to Newport for a succession of drills preparatory to a practice cruise on one of the training vessels. : : Our heros hailed the welcome intelli- gence with boyish enthusiasm. They had tired of the few attractions afforded by the Minnesota, and were eager to get on board a real fighting man-of-war. As pot their actual naval experience had been limited to a couple of days ina vessel permanently anchored within eye- sight of civilization, and they yearned to exchange its monotony for the many ad- ventures awaiting them beyond the sea. The next afternoon at two o’clock the boatswain passed the call: “Lay aft on the quarter deck, all you boys detailed for the draft. Bring your black bags and ditty boxes and place them in the port gangway.” j With suppressed shouts of joy, a host of delighted apprentices assembled from all directions, Phil and Dick in the front rank. The ship’s writer called the roll and then they were ordered into the steam Taunch hung impatiently along- side, waiting to convey them to the Fall River dock. A short time afterward the majestic Bristol steamed out into the river en route for Newport. On her deck were stationed a group of twenty appren- tices in happy anticipation of the glory awaiting them. Dick dfew Phil’s atten- tion to the unwelcome fact that Bob Gor- man was one of the number, They had hoped to leave him behind, for a strong suspicion had been aroused in the minds of the two that he was the guilty culprit in the hammock affair. But it could not be helped. The only course left was to keep a vigilant watch on his movements, and if caught in any sneaking attempt to settle it then and there. After watching the varied panorama as the steamer made her way through the busy river, the boys retired to the spacious saloon, whence alluring sounds of music had been wafted to their ears. The boat was crowded with passengers, and they found a merry throng inside enjoying the Sweet strains from an excellent string band, : After a hearty supper, served in the magnificent dining-room, they again ad- journed to the hurricane deck to take a ast look at the night before retiring. Wishing to enjoy a quiet talk over the events of the past two days, and to revel in glowing pictures of the future, the two ys sought a secluded spot near the star- board wheel house. The night was in- tensely dark, and the steamer seemed to e cleaving her way through a solid wall of gloom. Oppressed by the lonesome surround- ings. they.talked in low tones. The rapid throb of the engines and an occasional Shriek of escaping steam from the safety- valve proved that they were going at full Speed thorugh the waters of the Sound, notwithstanding the blackness of the night. After a half hour’s conversation, they arose to go below, when Dick, who had-eaught sight of a light off the beam, Stépped aft a short distance to get a tter view and stood gazing toward the Long Island shore, leaving his chum €aning over the rail deeply absorbed in thonght. So preoccupied was Phil that he did not hear the light footsteps of an tp proaching form nor see a dark figure as it glided up behind him, Suddenly there rang out into the night a shrill ery that struck with horror all who heard it. “Help, help!” A icud splash as of some heavy body, then silence profound. Dick wheeled around just in time to see the form of his friend disappear from sight in the dark waters below. He stood rooted to the spot for an instant then with a shout of “Man Overboard” sprang on to the rail and leaped to the rescue. He was an unusually strong swimmer and. felt perfectly at home in the water. He knew, too, that Phil could swim, but not for any great distance, hence his heroic action in risking his own life in the icy depths. As Dick came to the surface, a half smothered cry floated over the waters. It was Phil’s well-known voice. The Bristol had almost disappeared. The faint gleam of her cabin-lights only could be seen, and even they were quickly swallowed in the deepening gloom. Again came that cry for help, but fainter, as if from a great distance. With an encouraging shout, Dick struck out manfully toward the quarter it ap- peared to come from. The water was frightfully cold, it being November, and it almost benumbed him, but the violent movement of his limbs soon overcame the feeling. After a few rapid strokes, he made out the form of his chum feebly paddling, as if his strength had almost given out. Reaching his side, Dick uttered a few cheering words: “Keep up as long as you can, Phil. The people on board must have heard our cries. They will surely lower a boat to look for us. If you feel yourself sinking, catch hold of me.” A few minutes longer of patient strug- le against the paralyzing cold and then, Bail, with a despairing moan, cried out: “Leave me, Dick, and save yourself. I can’t keep up any longer. If you are saved tell fath——” a gurgling sound, a faint rippl2 of the waves and he disap- peared beneath the sullen waters. In an instant Dick dived and grasping Phil by the hair brought him to the sur- face. Casting a hopeless glance around, he ave one long cry for help, realizing that Re could keep up but a little while longer. Suddenly, there came an answering hail, like a voice from the depths of the sea, then the welcome sound of the click of rowlocks and a large boat propelled by lusty arms shot into view. A cry of “Courage, my lads, courage!” then will- ing hands reached over the side and the two dripping forms were stretched out in the bottom, saved from a watery grave. As if in a dream, Dick heard the sound of a man’s voice speaking in an under- tone, next to where he lay. “Why, cap, they are sailor boys. I wonder how they come out here. Must hev fallen overboard from some vessel, I reckon.” “Well, it don’t make any difference who they air; we must get rid of them. It’s gittin’ late, an’ we must make that schooner before the tide serves. The skipper got his money in the city to-day, over a thousand dollars; think of that for a haul, eh?” Just then, Dick, who realized from the whispered conversation of the two men. that they had fallen into the hands of river thieves, felt Phil move and heard a moan uttered by the half drowned boy. Reaching over, he placed his hand on Phil’s mouth and breathed softly: “Keep quiet, there is something up.” Meanwhile, the conversation between the rescuers continued. “We had better put them. on the Hook; there are plenty of houses there, and they will soon find some one to let them in until morning.” “Yes, but we'll go through them first. I haven’t handled any of Uncle Sam s money for a considerable spel], and—— “Hist!” The faint sound of muffled oars floated through the gloom, and_ before the men could make a move a boat dashed up alongside. “Ah! my fine fellows, we have caught you at last. No resistance, or we ll fire. “Fire and he blowed !” There was a short struggle, the river pirates gave a few swift strokes, but be- fore they had gotten ten feet away there came a flash of light, a loud report, and Dick, with-a start, sprang to his feet and toppled over the side. (TO BE CONTINUED.) ———___—_ -s1@ror LONDON STATISTICS. don is the largest city in the world. tee ota districts extend over a scope of one hundred and forty four square miles: that of the police over six hundred and ninety square miles. The population ig more than tour million. It stands on four counties, covering the most of each. It has one million five hundred thousand, foreigners from every quarter of the globe, and it is said to have more Catho- lies than Rome herself and_ more Jews than all Palestine. Within the limits of the city there is a birth every five min- utes and a death every eight minutes, day and night. Each year adds forty-five thousand to the population. There are seven thousand miles of streets and one thousand two hundred miles of street rail- way within the city limits. Each year an average of twenty-eight miles of new streets is opened. (This Story Will Not be Published in Book-Form. } BOB PORTER AT LAKEVIEW ACADEMY. ——s By WALTER MORRIS, Author of “Joe the Cali-Boy,” “The Clown’s Protege,” “Kirk Sheldon’s Mine,” “Slaves of the Circus,” ete. _——~- [“BOs PoRTER was commenced in No. 87. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.) CHAPTER XXVII. THE CAPTURE. OB delayed giving the signal to at- tempt the capture of the thieves because he thought it possible they might incriminate themselves yet more, and there was no necessity of making any move until the conversation had come to an end. Then again, he was trying to arrange in his mind how the affair could best be carried out. His party had the advantage of one in numbers, but Charley could not be counted upon for any brilliant work, and in view of everything, he believed the forces to be about equal. It was evident the guilty ones were on the verge of a quarrel, for when Sam in- timated that he ought not remain very long,*Sim said, sulkily: “Why don’t you go? It would a’ been better for Jack an’ me if you’d never had time to come where we was.” “Then you would have been hungry more than once after Tom left, for I have bought grub when you didn’t dare to go home.” “Yes, an’ we’ve paid up by doin’ your dirty work for less’n anybody else would a’ done it.” “Look there,” Jack interrupted in a tone of authority, “we can’t afford to fight jest now. I don’t think we've got our full share out of this thing, but a bargain’s a bargain, an’ we’ve no right to kick. We'll let this job settle the matter. When our part of the work,” and he motioned toward the package at Sam’s feet, “has been done, we split. It’s takin’ too much risk for nothin’.” “All right, if you can get a fair price for this set, now it’s all here, I'!l be satisfied,” and Sam started in the direc- tion of his boat. “I'll come over here to- morrow afternoon an’ see how you’ve made out.” Now if ever was the time for Bob to conclude his plan, and he so understood it. “Jack is the strongest of the three,” he whispered to Ned, “and I’ll tackle him while you look out for Sam. Jim and Charley can take care of Sim.” The others heard the hurried instruc- tions, and nodded their heads to show that they were ready for the struggle. Looking around once more to assure himself that he would be supported, Bob dashed through the underbrush, as he shouted : ; “If you fellows will surrender peaceably there’]] be no trouble, but raise a hand and we'll give you the worst flogging you ever had !” While speaking he barred Jack’s pas- sage with his body, and was ready to strike the first blow, but could not do so while the boy would not so much as put up his hands. The weakest pupil in the academy couid have overcome Sam at this moment. He realized that his crime was discovered, and, turning pale as death, was forced to lean against a tree for support. As Jim afterward expressed it, “he was knocked out by the first word.” i “You needn't strike,” Sim said as Ned advanced toward him _ threateningly. “I’m willin’ to give in, for this thing was bound to come, an’ the sooner the better so long as there’s no chance of gettin’ away.” Z : The amateur detectives were literally bewildered by the sudden submission, and Ned wi helplessly as he seized im by the collar: : 4 What are we to do now, Bob?” “They must go to the hall, of course, and we'll take these books along,” Bob replied as: he picked up the package. Then to Sam he added: “I’m mighty sorry for this, old fellow, but as you know it bad to be done if wecleared ourselves.” “How did you happen to think it was me?” Sam asked in a faint tone. “We didn’t until Jim saw you, and even then I aa it wasn’t true, but now there’s no question.” “None whatever, and I’ve got to take the penalty, but boys, there’s no need of carrying me to the hall while all the fellows are around,” he said imploringly, as he faced the others. “Your work wil be as well done if you wait until after hours.” “We can at least do that, can't we Bob?” and Ned’s eyes were filled with tears as he asked the question. “The only trouble is that they might try to get away in the darkness,” Bob re- plied, hesitatingly. “Tie my hands, or do whatever you choose sothat Iam not obliged to face all the fellows as a thief,” the pallid prisoner said, imploringly. Among those who had so lately been believed guilty of the crimes there was not one who did not feel really distressed at the turn affairs had taken. Sam was wel] liked by’all, and he would have been the last to be suspected by either. “If you'll give us your word that you won’t attempt to run away, we’ll wait,” Bob said, after a long pause. “Will you believe a thief?” Sam asked in a tearful voice, and Ned _ replied quickly: “We'll believe you, and I'd like to know why you did this thing.” “Towed some money in the village for suppers we had at the hotel last season, and the laudlord promised to send his bill to the hall if I didn’t pay him this month. Father refused to give me any- oe extra, and I saved every penny I could get during vacation, but needed fifteen dollars more. That’s all there is to it. I should have let him do as he threatened; it would have been a thous- and times better than this.” Neither of Sam’s school-mates could make any reply, and all remained silent until Sim asked: “Well, what’s to be did with us? I s’pose it don’t make any difference if we are paraded around as thieves, but yet we've only doneas he coaxed us to do.” “That is true,” Sam added. Bob remained in deepest thought for several moments, and then as a plan pre- sented itself, he said: “If all three of you promise to remain here quietly I'll go back and have a talk with the professor. Perhaps he will be willing to make such an arrangement that you have no need to show up at the hall at all.” “T’ll promise quick enough,” Jack re- plied, “and if you don’t believe me, take the boats away; there’s none of us who could swim to the shore, even if nobody was left as guard.” Sam looked imploringly at his school- mate, and this mute appeal decided Bob. “T’ll do it,” he ra “and be back in an hour at the longest.” Although he believed the boys could be depended upon, despite what they had done, Jack's suggestion was carried out. The three boats brought by the amateur detectives, that in which Sam had come, and the one belonging to Jack and Sim, were fastened in a line, Bob seating him- self in the foremost craft prepared for the hard task before him. He pulled away from the shore leavin his companions with the prisoners, an avoided meeting Sam’s mournful eyes again. An hour previous he had thought of the triumph which would be his when the criminals were discovered, but now he fe)t nothing but sorrow. It was a long, tedious pull before he reached the little pier, and when he finally arrived Stokell greeted him with: “Well, what’s up now? In all m workin’ at the academy I never seen sake times as these, when every whipper-snap- per in the place can come or go as he pleases.” “You are not soold but that there is yet time for you to learn something more,” Bob replied, quite as impatiently as the boat-keeper had spoken. “These craft are to be left here a while, and it won’t be well to disturb them.” “Tt seems that you are takin’ consider- able on yourself, my bantam. I’d feel like holdin’ my tongue if I’d been doin’ as——” Bob was out of the beat in an instant, and with both hands tightly clenched he faced Stokell: “If you dare to so much as intimate that I have had anything to do with the thefts that have been committed I’ll give you the worst flogging any man ever had, old as you are! The safest plan is for you to hold your tongue just now when things have turned in this fashion.” The boat-keeper staggered back in gen- uine alarm. He had heard of Bob’s skill with his fists, and did not care to en- counter them when the boy was appar- ently in such a fury. Bob said nothing more, but, after as- suring himself that the painter of the dory would not be readily unlooséned, he walked rapidly toward the hall, bound on the most unpleasant mission that had been entrusted to him. The professor was in the library, and one glance at Bob’s face was sufficient to show him that he brought bad news. 1588 Goonp NEWS. “Have you failed, Master Porter?” he asked kindly. “Tam almost beginning to wish that I had, sir. We have found the thief, and it makes a fellow feel bad to see a friend in trouble.” “Who is he?” “Sam Howard. The other boys are hold- ing him on Dollar Island while I can tell you the story.” Then Bob explained everything, while the professor stood grasping the edge of the table as if he needed support while one of his favorite pape was accused, and, with the best of proofs, of being a thief, “Now, sir,” Bob said, as he concluded the painful account, “I’ve been thinking the matter over ever since I left the island, and in the name of all the boys who were under suspicion, ask if this thing can’t be kept a secret. 1 know Sam will never commit such acrime again, and to send him home in disgrace would be something terrible. Why not let him come back quietly; tell the students that the thief has been discovered, but you cannot give his name; say that Ned, Jim, Charley and I are known to be innocent, and no one besides ourselves will be any the wiser.” The professor remained silent, and Bob eontinued to beg for the culprit as if ask- ing a great favor for himself, until the former said slowly: “If I should do as you ask it would be impossible to take any steps against the man who has been buying the stolen roperty, and I consider him more guilty Bes the boys.” “He can be made to give up the things, and it surely is better to let him go free than to disgrace Sam so terribly.” “But he has committed a crime, not only by stealing but in allowing the innocent to be almost the same as publicly accused of the offense.” “The last part refers only to us boys, and we are ready to forgive that if he does what is right in the future. As for his guilt, I am certain he’s suffering most severely.” The professor allowed Bob to plead a short while longer, and then he said: “You have persuaded me against m better judgment. Go back to the island, and after hours bring Master Howard here. As forthe other boys, you can do no less then let them go, as was done when they were caught with Moody, but make them understand distinctly that I will invoke the law if either is found loitering around the academy, or on any of my property.” CHAPTER XXVIII. A HEAVY SQUALL. OB lost no time in returning to Dollar Island after pleading so suc- z: 2) cessfully with the professor. Stokell was on the pier when he reached the shore again, and most eager to enter into conversation, but the ama- teur detective was in no mood to answer his questions. The fact that the old man had and did believe him guilty of the thefts was sufficient to make Boh feel very sore, and he showed quite plainly what was in his mind. “Ain’t you goin’ to take the boats back?” the old man asked, as the boy be- an casting off all save the craft belong- ing to Jack and Sim. “You'll find out by watching,” was the curt reply. “It strikes me you’re mighty touchy. A bear with a sore head couldn’t be worse.” “Then don’t talk to me and there won’t be any cause for hard feelings.” By this time Bob was pulling away from the pier witk one boat in tow, and Stokell shouted: “Hold on! I want to send some word up to the island.” “Carry it yourself, for you surely can’t trust even a’ message with a fellow whom you believe to be a thief.” This had tle effect of silencing Stokell, but it did not make Bob feel any better. The fact that the old man could believe him guilty rankled wees and even the present triumph was not sufficient to take away the sting. When he arrived at the island the little party was in exactly the same position as when he left. Sam did not so much as raise his head, and the look on his face told how severe was his mental suffering. It was a wonderful change which came over him when Bob announced the result of his visit to the hall. “Will the professor really keep it a secret?” he asked, eagerly. “There is no question about it, provi- ding you act square during the remainder of the term.” “And I s’pose Sim an’ I’ll have to sweat,” Jack said, grimly. “You are to go free_as long as A keep away from the hall, and the pupils of the academy, but if either shows up before the professor, or if he hears that you are in any kind of mischief there’ll be trouble.” “There won’t anybody around here see us again,” Sim replied, with a sigh of re- lief. “I wanted to leave a week ago, an’ now I’ll go if I have to start alone.” “Very well, I brought your boat back, and as we intend to remain until after dark there’s no reason why you shouldn't leave at once.” “We can’t go before to-morrow,” Jack replied, “an’ we must stay here, cause it won’t do to show Bp at home; but we’ll row around a while if you fellers want to talk.” “Do as you choose, I reckon we sha’n’t have anything private to discuss. I’m mighty sleepy, and am going to takea nap; some of you must waken me at sun- set.” As he spoke Bob stretched himself out on the ground, and during the next three hours was blissfully unconscious of every- thing around him. It was dark when Ned aroused him, and the little party set out on the return trip without loss of time. Jack and Sim were nowhere to be seen, They had gone to the other side of the island shortly after Bob laid down, and propably. did not care to meet again the oy who had so successfully outwitted t hem, Stokell stood on the pier when Bob and his party arrived, and from appearances one would say he had been there quite a while. He could not have failed to un- derstand from Bob’s movements that something of importance was on foot, and his curiosity was most sorely excited. “I can’t jest make out the meanin’ of this ae ADE, boats that seems to be goin’ on to-night,” he said, in what he inten- ded should be such a friendly tone that confidences would be invited, but no one replied. None of the party felt like talk- ing with the boat keeper just at that time, and all landed hurriedly, making their way at a rapid pace to the hall. None of the pupils were around the grounds, and a bright light in the library told that the professor was waiting to re- ceive the penitent criminal. “You’d better go in alone, Sam,” Bob said, as he haited at the main entrance. “Tt isn’t re that we shall be wanted, and we'll sneak up stairs. If the professor asks about us, tell him that all hands thought it best to go to bed.” Sam made no reply, but looked up at the boy who had acted the part of such a true friend so appealingly, that Bob held out his hand. It was pressed fervently by Sam, and an instant later the little party entered, one to face his disgrace as best he might, and the others to seek the repose they needed so sadly. It was with remarkably light hearts that Bob and his friends met in the former’s room next morning before going to breakfast. In some way, they knew not how, the students would be made to understand that they were innocent of the charge which had virtually been made against them, and this fact was sufficient to cause great elation. When the second bell rang they marched in a body to the door of the dining-room, and to the surprise of all were informed that the meal would not be served until half an hour later, but that every person in the academy, either pupil, teacher or servant was to assemble in the first class- room, i “Blinkers don’t propose to lose any time,” Ned whispered gleefully, as he hurried through the corridor to the desig- nated place of meeting. On arriving there the boys found the room filled to its utmost capacity, and standing near the door looking woefully uncomfortable, was Stokell, who bowed and scraped in the most grotesque fashion as he caught Bob’s eye. The latter returned the salutation rather Sais and then gazed eagerly around for am. He was present, and trying very hard to appear unconcerned, but it was easy to see how difticult was the task. The professor, with all the teachers, was on the platform, and when Bob and his friends entered he rose to his feet, beckoning them to come beside him. “This is more than I aeneeet for,” Ned iaid ruefully, in a. whisper as he made his way forward. “I don’t like to be put up on exhibition in such a manner,” By the time the boys were on the plat- form every person present knew the rea- son of this unusual meeting, therefore they were not so very much surprised by what followed. ‘ The professor made a long, speech, which would not be particularly interes ting if reported verbatim, therefore only a summary is necessary. He began by saying it had been sup- posed by himself and some of the teachers that there were sufficient suspicious cir- cumstances to warrant the temporary sus- pension of the pupils who stood by his side. Then he spoke of the thefts, what steps he had taken to discover the cul- prits, and concluded with: “I now wish to beg pardon of these young gentlemen for my unjust sus- picions. The one who did the wrong has confessed fully, and I do not think it necessary to give any information con- cerning his identity. It is sufficient that he is thoroughly penitent, and I enjoin upon the students that they try to dis- miss the matter from their minds, save as they aid me in making reparation to these young gentlemen who have been most cruelly wronged. “As a slight token of my esteem, and that there may be something given in the way of a reward for what they have done and suffered, I propose to reinstate them in command of the Undine, and in their names invite all the students for a cruise beginning at ten o’clock this forenoon. It shall be a day of general nejetcing: and of doing honor to those whom I wronged.” As the professor sat down the students began to shout themselves hoarse, while they crowded around the boys, insisting on shaking hands, cheering and otherwise giving to the class-room the appearance of being tenanted by a crowd of lunatics. Sam mingled with the others lest by remaining aloof his secret should be dis- covered, but when he shook hands with those who had saved him from disgrace, it was in silence. A fervent pressure told only of his gratitude. Bob and his friends stood the ordeal of being thus lionized as long as possible, and then, with cheeks flaming red be- cause of the compliments showered upon them, they broke away, running toward the dining-room as the third bell an- nounced that the half hour had expired. After the meal had come to an end the reinstated captain and crew put off to the yacht in order to get her ready for the cruise, and while they were busy as bees Stokell joined them. “See here, Bob, you shouldn’t lay u anything agin me for what you thought was goin’ to say. I haven’t done any worse’n the professor did, and ye ain’t holdin’ out on him.” “But you knew me better than he did.” “That’s true, lad, but any body could a’ gone astray on this thing, more per tic’larly when it seemed as if you was actin’ as if the thieves wasn’t to be caught.” “All right, we won’t say anything more about it,” Bob replied, and then to pre- vent the old man from making an elabor- ate apology, he added: “Suppose you take hold and help us get things into sailing trim?” Stokell acted upon the suggestion with a will, and by the time word came from the culinary department that the lunch was ready to be taken on board, the Un- dine was in condition to weigh anchor at ant moment, here were no lack of volunteers to man the small boats, and punctually at ten o’clock every one was on board. Sail was gotten on to the little craft in very nearly true nautical style, and under the influence of a strong breeze she ran out of the harbor with a bone in her teeth which told how well the canvas was drawing. At the professor’s suggestion the yacht was hove-to off Independence Island in order that the pleasure-seekers might go ashore to view the ruins of the cook- house, and then came such a cruise as the boys remembered for many a day. Bob made a complete circuit of the lake, coming to anchor at the lower end where lunch was served, and, after an hour’s fishing, it was proposed to spend the remainder of the day sailing. The wind had held steady during the forenoon, but. at about one o’clock it freshened, coming in gusts which often heeled the little craft in a manner that caused some of the more timid to grasp the rail in a very nervous way. “Don’t you believe it would be well to shorten sail?” the professor asked as a sea struck the quarter, drenching more than one of the passengers, “I will if you think best, sir,” Bob re- plied, “but there isn’t the slightest dan- ger. She couldn’t capsize with this can- vas, and Stokell is pilot enough to keep us off the rocks.” “T think it would be more comfortable if we careened less,” was the nervous answer, and Bob had considerable diffi- culty in keeping his face straight, for the professor looked as if this was anything rather than a pleasure trip for him. “We'll reef her down well,” he said to the boat-keeper. “The other boys can attend to the mainsail with you here to ive orders, and I’ll see to the jib if you ake the wheel.” Stokell did as requested, and Bob went forward. The foresail was lowered and snugly stowed, and then as the yacht was brought up into the wind Bob called for Ned to follow, and laid out on the bow-sprit. To those who were watching his move- ments it seemed as if he had but just stepped on the foot-ropes when Stokell turned to speak with the professor, thus losing sight of his charge for the instant, and a heavy squall swept down from the hills with a speed and violence truly alarming. The helmsman did not see it until the yacht was swung around like a cork, and the rope bound canvas was raised and flung down upon the boy with a force sufficient to have torn a much older and better sailor from the perch, “ Bob’s killed !” “Bob’s overboard !” Ned and Sam shouted at the same in- stant, and the negligent Stokell looked 0 just in time to see the young captain sink beneath the waves as the yacht dashed on like some affrighted thing. _ (TO BE CONTINUED.) oo UNITED STATES GUN SHOPS. ——@¢———— v, -NE of the most extensive plants owned by the Government for com- “Ay leting cannon is located in the Vashington Navy Yard, and the building, known as the North and South Gun Shop, is six hundred and thirty feet long and from ninety-five to one hundred and thirty-five feet wide. Surrounding this building are numerous other struc- tures devoted to the manufacture of gun carriages, projectiles and other equip- ments necessary for defense. The build- ings are equipped with every imaginable tool, for the purpose intended, and when the many others, now being built, are in place, those best posted state that the gun plant in the Washington Navy Yard will rank ia size and equipment with - any similar factory in the world. There were nine hundred and one men employed in these shops before orders were recently issued for pushing the work with extra diligence. The number is now evidently much larger. When it is stated that seven years ago there was not a single piece of modern heavy ordnance on any vessel owned by the United States Govern- ment and no factory equipped for manu- facturing guns of modern type and no iron works with es large enough to make any gun forgings larger than six inches; the rapid growth of this branch of the government can be seen. At the resent time there area number of twelve nch breech-loading rifled cannon being manufactured in the Washington gun shops. One of these cannon weighs one hundred and one thousand pounds, is thirty-five feet long, requires four hun- dred and fifty pounds of powder for each charge and will throw a steel vrojectile, weighing fifty pounds, a distance of twelve miles, The force of the discharge of this gun is 80 great that it will penetrate more than two feet of solid steel if the metal is laced close to the muzzle of the cannon. o move these enormous weights, and piace them in position for finishing, hese shops are equipped with various sizes of traveling cranes, the largest of them having a capacity to carry a load of over two hundred thousand pounds. It was in 1882 that the Ordnance Bureau of the Navy Department took the first steps toward proguring forgings for large guns. Most of these they were obliged to procure from England, and the delays and annoyances incidental to their de- livery were so great that the Navy De- artment became convinced that these orgings would have to be procured in America, and to this end they offered extra inducements and advertised for bids for gun forgings. To give some idea of the enormous weight representea by these cannons, 1t will be stated that the twelve-inch guns above referred to weighed one hundred and one thousand pounds when finished. In the rough as first received from the iron works the forging weighed one hundred and twenty- seven thousand four hundred and eighty pounds; showing a loss in manufacture of over thirteen tons. The ary of the gun shop on the first day of July, 1891 was: forty five-inch guns, sixty six-inch guns, ten eight-inch guns, six ten-inch guns and three twelve- nch guns for each twelve months, or one hundred and nineteen cannon, This capacity is now much larger but we have not the statistics at hand of the present vutput. The time required for each size is as follows: To build a five-inch gun fifty days, six-inch sixty days, eight-inch ninety days, ten-inch one hundred and twenty days and to build a twelve-inch un it takes one hundred and eighty days. The overnment had under contract and building about fifty cannon from ten_to thirteen inches inside diameter. By having provided itself with a complete gun factory, the government has de- creased the cost of manufacture very largely; in some of the sizes as much as fifty per cent. A ten-inch gun, which cost in 1888 six million four hundred thou- sand dollars, wes built last year for three million dollars less and in two-thirds the time. The government also has a gun factory of considerable dimensions at the Watervliet Arsenal, West Troy, N. Y.: et for various . classes of work at Springfield, Mass., at Rock Island, Il,, and large plants at all the navy yards. ee a ee ~ Po «© all a Goonp NEWS. i589 {This Story will not be Published in Book-Form.) TOM HAVENS WITH THE WHITE SQUADRON natin ioteliaats By LIEUT. JAS. K. ORTON. Author of “Between the Lines,” “‘Beach-Boy Joe,” etc. bse (“Tom Havens” was commenced in No. 9% Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents). —e CHAPTER XY, THE ADMIRAL. ZA% ETER the evidence produced by IN % som there could be no question Oy but that the captain and mate of the Dolphin had found a remark- ably rich treasure, and very little stretch of the imagination was necessary in order to decide how it had been accumulated. From the build of the vessel, that which had been seen on board, the casket of jewels, and numberless other indications, there could be no question as to the char- acter of the craft before she found final resting place at thé bottom of the sea. That the treasure room contained a large amount of wealth was already ares. and this valuable assortment had een purchased by the sin of murder and rapine. It was wealth, however, which could not be restored to its rightful owners at this late day, and the young discoverers had, undoubtedly, a better right to it thau those who once tenanted the houses of bones which were found on the wreck. The captain and his mate could not, in their armor, hold any conversation, but words were not necessary to express the joy both felt at thus being assured that ere was a fortune awaiting the first who should be able to carry it away. They were the first, and better than this, could transship it with more ease than even the ships of the White Squad- ron, for it could be put on board while the Dolphin lay alongside the hulk. It would only be necessary to load the treasure into the trap-hatch, send it in- board, and while the crew of the steamer were stowing it away another lot could be put into the iron receptacle. All these thoughts came into the minds of Tom and Jerry as they stood iooking at the peek of silver, and as the latter handed it back to the captain, he threw it carelessly among the other black bricks, at the same time oe his finger over the glass of his helmet asa sign that nothing must be said regarding the dis- covery while the surgeon was their guest. Jerry nodded t6 show that he under- stood, and then Tom led the way back to the steamer. There was no reason why they should delay longer, since both knew wherea fortune could be gained in a few hours when the time was propitious for gather- ing. When the two were standing by the side of the Dolphin once more they saw the naval officer looking eagerly from the window of the tower, and once more Tom Signified by gestures that the result of the visit should be kept a secret. Twenty seconds after stepping into the trap-hatch the divers were on the inside while Joppa and Dunker were assisting them to remove the heavy armor, and the Surgeon said just a trifle impatiently: “I was afraid you would stay so long that I wouldn't be able to get back to the Yorktown to-right.” “What time is it now?” Jerry asked in surprise. “Nearly an hour after sunset, and I fancy the signals for you have already been displayed. Did you find anything?” “There were a number of skeletons on board, but not an article of value remains n the main cabin. She has been under water too long for goods to be worth re- moving.” “You should have looked inthe run. I believe that is where the old-time pirates carried treasure.” “Half a dozen skeletons chained to benches is all that can be found in the tun of that craft, and I assure you it was anything rather than a pleasant sight,” om replied, and the surgeon added: “Then she must have been a slaver.” “That would be the natural inference,” Tom said calmly, and then, fearing the conversation might be led into channels where a lie could not he avoided if they Wished to preserve intact the secret of this particular wreck, he added: “Since it is so late the best thing we can do is to rise to the surface and make ready for the admiral’s visit.” Without waiting for expostulation or argnment he set the machinery in motion, and the Dolphin rose straight from ber Ocean hed without other motion than might have been perceived had she veen leaving a dock in land-locked waters, The surgeon was hardly aware the start had been made when Tom cried: “The remainder of the fleet are here. It seems as if the gulf was filled with ships, and what puzzles me is to decide where the Yorktown lays.” It was with an exclamation of surprise that the surgeon sprang to the window, and on seeing the lights of the squadron aa, p00 noble vessels rode at anchor, he said: “The sigrals you expected should show the flag-ship.” “You are right; I see them now,” and Tom immediately flashed the search-light three times in token of his presence. The signal was returned, and from that time on a faint glow was shown at the pc rie of the water to guide the expected craft. The admiral arrived sooner than was anticipated. Sweetness had just served a hearty supper, and the officers of the Dolphin and their guest were yet discus- sing it when Joppa, who was on the look- out in the tower cried: “Here comes a boat headin’ straight for us!” Tom sprang from the table, clambered through the window to the sloping deck, and in a few moments returned in com- pany with the same gentieman who had, with his staff of officers, boarded the Dolphin when she lay in the Cobb Basin at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. “I must ask, sir, in view of what hap- pened a short time ago, that the boat’s crew do not remain in the vicinity,” Tom said, and the visitor replied ; “You need have no fear, captain. Their “That remains to be decided, but just now [I wish to+speak with you on an- other subject.” The admiral paused as if waiting fora reply, but Tom remained silent, and he continued after a few seconds: “You doubtless know that these waters were the favorite haunts of the piratical hordes which preyed upon the commerce of the world during the last century. Now, singular as it may seem, there was another craft by the name of Sparrow- hawk sunk here about the year 1750, and it is said that she had on board the booty of a long cruise.” The officers of the Dolphin exchanged glances, but remained silent. Tom did not intend to explain that they had already found the vessel re- ferred to, for the treasure on her belonged to him and his officers by right of dis- covery, although it was just possible the admiral might consider he had a prior claim in view of the fact that the Dol- phin had been chartered by him. “TI wish to get the guns from the sioop- of-war if ‘they can be gotten at readily, and such other things as may be of value, but at the same time I do not intend to have you remain about that wreck very long. It is the piratical craft I am eager to find, and to that end your labors are to be directed. To-morrow you may make a careful examination of the ship, and we will raise anything you think worth saving. After then search for the first Sparrowhawk.” “Is it supposed that we are to hunt for treasure-laden wrecks, giving up all that may be found, and receiving only our orders are to return to the ship and wait charter money?” Tom asked. — eee —=—— EEE A = AA ————— PP ae 77 2) — THE DOLPHIN ROSE STRAIGHT FROM HER OCEAN BED; TO FIND THE NOBLE VESSELS OF THE WHITE SQUADRON there until a flash light has been shown three times.” This was satisfactory to Tom, but as a precautionary measure he ordered Joppa to keep a strict watch, and then turned as the admiral said: “I wish to have a strictly confidential interview with you and your two officers. “That necessitates my asking your sur- geon to go below with the crew, but I do not suppose he will have any objections. Remain here, sir, and I will call Harvey and Tom.” When the two last named entered the tower the admiral received them with re- markable condescension, greeting both as if he had been exceedingly anxious to meet them. ag “We shall be alone here, sir,” Tom said as he closed the hatch of the tower after sending Joppa below. “The surgeon is lying down in my room, and even if he or either of the sailors shou!d come to the foot of the ladder, not a sound could be rd.” : nee Then we will proceed to business. After you ‘have none ee wreck of the -of-war Sparrowhawk——" so that has diready been done, sir, and here are some of the instruments we brought away from her,” Tom interrupted as he produced the articles. “You surely cannot be accused of was- ting time,” the admiral said with a smile as he examined critically the goods which the young captain spread before him, - “In what condition was the wreck? “Fairl sonnt, sir, but ey ware a to find so many dea op toe Are you intending to ping up anything from her?” AT ANCHOR IN THE GULF. “Certainly not. You are entitled toa due proportion of the full amount recovered.” “Can you say how much that will be, sir?” “It can be determined when the work has been done.” Jerry was about to make some remark, as could be seen by the movement of his lips, and, fearing lest he might betray the secret by an incautious word, Tom interrupted him by saying: real “We will overhaul the ship in the morning, although it is a task I would willingly transfer to some one else, for if so many officers were drowned we may expect to see horrible sights forward. At this hour to-morrow I will report on the general condition of affairs, and when that has been done a general search can be made of the surrounding waters, but I should think a wreck which had been on the battens so long would be well vered by sand.” ee On the contrary, the trend of the cur- rents would keep her free from anything of the kind. Come to the surface at sun- set, and I will send a boat to bring you on board. Now to another matter,” he continued, turning toward Jerry, “You intimated that there had been foul play in connection with the sudden sinking of this steamer. Will you now explain? “I would prefer that he gaid nothing about it at present,” Tom replied quickly. “If I do not succeed in getting proof be fore the squadron sails, you shall know a ne admiral looked surprisd, but said nothing, and a few seconds later the boat was signalled for in order that he and the surgeon might return to the ship. When they had taken their departure, and the windows of the tower were closed, Tom said with a laugh which was by no means mirthful: “It begins to look as if our discovery wouldn’t do us very much good, for he intends to claim more than the lion’s share of all we may find.” “Do you think ot giving that treasure up to any one?” Jerry asked in surprise. “How can we hold it if a demand is “made?” CHAPTER XVI. THE MESSAGE. AHE request [a of the ad- ‘ 2 miral’s caused the crew of the Dol- ‘| phin no little uneasiness. . They had made the discovery, and believed the treasure belonged to them quite as much as to any one else, but yet how could it be carried away without the knowledge of the officers of - the fleet? “T’ve got just this much to say,” Jerry cried excitedly after Tom and Harvey had discussed the matter for some time, “Those ingots are ours, and I go in for taking them even if it becomes necessary to leave half a dozen White Squadrons in the lurch. If we should turn the treas- ure over to the Government we might be allowed to keep only so much as would give good wages for all hands, and no more. A bird in the hand, such as we have got, is worth a hundred in the bush.” “Don’t get so excited, old fellow,” Tom said laughingly. “So far as the admiral knows we haven’t located the wreck yet, and may never do it for his benefit. To my mind it is very important we should know what is written on that paper which was found in the casket.” “That can’t be done until we are on our way home,” Jerry replied, as if belieying the statement could not be contradicted. - “Why not?” “Because there is no one here who can read Spanish, that is, I mean no one whom we dare trust with the secret.” “How long would it take to run to the nearest port on the island?” “Is that what you are thinking of?” and Jerry sprang to his feet in surprise and delight. : “T believe we should do so. Of course it may be that there is nothing in the document which would affect this busi- ness in the slighest, but, without know- ing why, Iam very anxious to have it translated.” “Start now. Even if weare not back early in the day the admiral will have no means of knowing that we haven't begun work on the Sparrowhawk, and we can overhaul her in half an hour.” For reply Tom took down his charts, selected one which treated of the particu- lar waters, and after shaping a course for the principal town on the island, sent the Dolphin ahead at full speed. “We can lay off till daylight, find some one to read the paper, and be back before noon,” he said. “One of you set Sweet- ness to work on supper, for I'm begin- ning to feel decidedly empty.” It was not yet midnight when the steamer ran into the port of Ajecco. a small town on the easternmost side of the island, and Tom sent her to the bottom until daylight. Next morning at an hour so early that there was little chance any of the inhabi- tants woald be stirring, the Dolphin was brought to the surface, and steered to a wooded point at least a mile from the settlement. “Harvey, you must stay here while Jerry goes with me. If there is any chance of being discovered, back off into deep water, and rise from time to time in order to see if we are wee We'll be here again in an hour at the longest.” “T'll be on the look-out,” Harvey re- plied, and added as if to himself: “How you fellows who don’t understand a word of the language are going to transact business, beats me.” Tom felt quite positive that there would be but little difficulty in finding some one who could speak English, and to this end he pushed rapidly on toward the settle- ment, halting only when they were in front of a smal] cafe. “This is the’ first place a sailor would stop at after landing, and I count on meeting with the a we want,” Tom said as he entered the building. “We’ll call for breakfast in order to put the pro- prietor in good humor, and then try to make him understand our wants.” The young captain knew sufficient Spanish to be able to read the rather —, bill of fare, and while the food was being prepared he motioned ° for the beetle-browed owner of the establishment to come toward the table. “T wouldn’t care about trusting that fellow very far,” Jerry said in a natural tone, never thinking the words might be understood, and to the surprise of both the boys the landlord addressed them reasonably good English, 1590 “T guess we’ve struck the right spot on the first tack,” Tom said sige 28 bed no heed to Jerry's distrust. “We have come ashore to find some one who can read Spanish, and translate it into Eng- lish. ou should be able to fill the bill.” “T ean doas the senors wish. When did your vessel arrive in the harbor?” “Just before daylight.” “T have not yet seen her,” and the man went toward the window evidently for the purpose of looking at the craft. “She lays behind the arg and is so small that the trees hide her from view. Sit down, for we are in a hurry.” With apparent reluctance the man obeyed, and Tom took from his pocket the document found in the casket of jewels. Spreading it out on the table, he pro- duced pencil and paper ready to write as the words aon be translated, and motioned for the man to read. The first line caused the Spaniard to start in surprise, and pointing to it in an excited manner he asked eagerly: “Is that the pirate craft Sparrowhawk which was commanded by Ruy Lopez?” “T cannot say. What do you know of such a vessel?” “Only that which has been told by those who lived here many years ago.” “Repeat it, and then we may be able to determine if it is the same vessel.” “Will the senors first teli me where this was found?” and again he pointed at the paper excitedly, but refrained from touching it as if the document had about it some occult power to do him harm, “A diver discovered it; I cannot say where.” The man continued to gaze at the paper as if fascinated, and pot until Tom im- patiently asked for the story did he speak. Then it was to say: “Although Ruy Lopez went to the bot- tom of the sea many years ago, there are old women living here who cross them- selves every time his name is spoken. No other free-booter on the coast was so cruel and bloodthirsty as he. Some killed only that they might find treasure, or close the lips of those who might have given evi- dence against them, but Lopez murdered simply in order to see blood flow. He once attackd a convent and slaughtered ee person to be found, even though he and his villainous crew knew nothing of value could be taken from the building. It was for that crime, so I have heard it said, that the priests uttered a solemn curse on the pirate and his followers. Even the name can do harm, and no craft christened Sparrowhawk ever makes more than two or three voyages, some terrible accident or crime always pursues them.” Tom and Jerry looked at each other meaningly, and perhaps began to think there might have been some power in the priestly curse, for had per not already seen the wrecks of two vessels bearing the same name, one of which was deliber- ately scuttled, and the other iiterally filled with the skeletons of her crew? “Do you know where the pirate’s craft was wrecked?” “She went down in this gulf, but was not wrecked. It is said that Lopez, in a fit of passion, chained the principal mem- bers of his crew in the afterrun, and with his own hand scuttled the brig. It is supposed he went down in her, but there are many who believe he sailed ina small boat to the mainland where much treas- ure had been buried.” “Tf all disappeared how could this story have been made known?” Tom asked. “Five of the crew were set ashore, he allowing them to go at iiberty in order that the last terrible act of his lawless life might be described.” “Rather a queer fancy to want to make public the longest possible list of crimes,” Jerry said musingly, and Tom added im- patiently: “We mustn’t stay here very long, there- fore I’ll thank you to read the document now that we’ve heard the history of this agreeable Mr. Lopez.” The proprietor of the cafe bent over the paper, taking the utmost care to avoid touching it, and read slowly, translating each word without regard to its idioms, and Tom had no slight trouble to reduce it to an intelligible story. It was as follows: “Bric SPARROWHAWK, 1741. “That whieh is set down here must not be con- sidered as evidence that I repent in any degree of the life I have led, for such a thingis farthest from my thoughts at this moment whlle the brig is settling, on the point of carrying to the bottom myself and those whom I have con- demned to death. “My name is not Lopez; but who T really am will never be known. My curse has been on every human patngs and there are many who ean say T have made it felt heavily. The injus- tice which was done me 80 many years ago has been avenged, and lest [ may be caer to my enemies by some of the curs comprising this crew, thus being trapped by the laws I have ever successtully set aside, this my last act has been committed. “Tt was learned by me that the crew were ready to mutiny, myself sent ashore in irons, Goop and the treasure which has been accumulated divided among the fools who would have been hanged years ago but for such a leader as me. Five of the men who stood by me and revealed the conspiracy have been allowed to go free. The others are chained in the run, and now, as the water creeps slowly around them, I can hear their cries tor mercy. They should re- member that the meaning of that word has never been known on this brig. “There is little chance the end of the Spar- rowhawk will ever be known except as shall be told by those who were allowed, like rats, to leave a sinking ship, and yet I ae to mock fate by leaving that which will be the first act of restitution ever made by me. If, as idiots say, the time does come when the sea gives up its dead, then shall this be made known. If, however, it is a lie, as I know it to be, then | am content to hold in my hand while dead what would be to the living a means of happiness. “Tf such an act, in sucha spirit, can be called restitution, then Ruy Lopez has shown the white feather at the last moment on this earth. “During the year 1741 we sacked tlie convent of the Holy Cross, killing no less than eighty people, and extorting by torture the informa- tion of much treasure buried on the main land, given by one who called himself Francis At- wood. He died hard, and whenall the others had breathed their last, he raised himself on his elbow and said to me: ‘You have taken my life in wantonness, and the time will come when you are as near deathas I, Thenan act of re- pentance may soothe your dying hour, and I adjure fyou to give such information to my family, in the Colonies of America, the town of Lynn, situate in Massachusetts, as may re- sult in their being allowed the benefit of at least a portion of the treasure you now rob from the widowed and fatherless. “IT do not know why, but at this moment his words sound as clear in my ears as they did then, and I will follow the old fellow’s advice by revealing to his family, in case this paper is ever found, the secret hiding place of all the wealth we have taken.” (TO BE CONTINUED). a Oe ACK THE [NVENTOR: OR, The Trials and Triumphs of a Young Machinist. ——_e——-. By EDWARD STRATEMEYER, Author of ‘Richard Dare’s Venture,” “T'rue to Him- self,” etc. —__-e (“JACK THE INVENTOR” was commenced in No. 90. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents]. —-- CHAPTER XXIV. PRECIOUS PAPERS. rT did not take Jack very long to reach if the shore. He found Farmer Farrel, gun in hand, stalking up and down impatiently. Heha snaieas the two risoners into the row-boat, and was ecturing them and the hired man at the same time, = “You've been a mighty long while coming,” he remarked as the dim rays of the smoky lantern fell upon the young machinist’s face. “T couldn’t help it,” replied Jack, and he briefly related what had occurred to detain him so long. ~ They embarked at once. The young machinist set out to do the rowing, but was stopped by the farmer, who directed Tim, the hired man to take the oars. “You're tired enough,” said Farmer Farrel. “Besides, we must keep a close eye on these two, or they’]1 be up to their pesky tricks afore we know it.” Tim pulled a good stroke. He was anxious to get out of such dangerous com- any and be safe in his bed in the barn oft once more. “Isn’t there some way we can fix this matter up?” asked Corrigan, after a long period of thoughtful silence. “What do you mean?” asked Jack. “Why, buy ourselves off.” “No, sir, not a bit of it,” returned the young machinist, decidedly. Corrigan winced. The prospect of going to prison was not a particularly inviting one. “Oi a Jack, meb’y, if we give up er model will ye be easy on us?” put in osey, who did not know that that precious bit of property had already been recovered, “T have it already,” replied Jack; “I don’t intend to be any harder on you than you deserve,” he continued. “You tried to take my friend’s life as well as mine, and also set fire to Mr. Gray’s house, and by using the match-safe which belonged to me, cast suspicion on my character, which has not yet been cleared away.” “Who can prove I set foire to Felix Gray’s place?” demanded the Irishman, blusteringly His tongue was clearer than it had been, but his head was as muddled as ever. “Perhaps I can.” “Ye can’t, no how.” “Well, we'll see, and it will go hard with you unless you can prove otherwise.” “Oi didn’t do it. It was Dennis’ work,” howled Mosey, breaking down completely. NEWS. “Oi found the box, and give it ter him, and he ‘kept it. Didn’t he stale the model, too, and run away wid yer sister? Oi niver harmed a soul, save when I was in liquor,” he whined. “It’s a lie!” shouted Corrigan, in a rage. Had he been free he would have struck down his contederate. “It ain’t, it’s true, every worrud of it,” responded Mosey, doggedly. “Ye always got me to do yer dirty worruk, and now yer want me to stand all der blame. But Oi won’t do it. Oi'll turn Queen’s evi- dence first.” “If you turn State’s evidence you may save yourself a heap of trouble,” put in Farmer Farrel. “Oh, Oi’l1 do it, just moind me, if Oi don’t,” replied the Irishman, quickly, He was thoroughly cowed, and his one thought was how to best evade the clutches of the law. “You mean dog!” interrupted Corrigan, bitterly. “You shall pay dearly for this ;” and he grated his teeth together in rancor. “T don’t think you will be able to harm him for a good while,” sagely remarked Farmer Farrel. | Corrigan became silent at once, and as each one was busy with his own thoughts, the rest of the trip wasaccomplished with- out further woids: ; On reaching the shore the party re- paired at once to Farmer Farrel’s place, where Tim, glad to be back again, hitched up the team to the old family wagon. “Is there a doctor anywhere near?” asked Jack; “I promised to send one over to the island.” “Dr. Melvin lives just up the road,” re- lied the farmer. “We'll stop and tell im, and Tim can row him over. Do you hear, Tim?” “Yes, sir,” replied the farm hand. “To- morrow morning will do, I suppose.” “To-morrow morning!” repeated the farmer, in surprise. “No, indeed, right away. And if you can’t get Dr. Melvin, go over to Dr. Dell’s, and take him straight to Pooler’s cottage. Tell him that the man has a bullet in his shoulder.” Much as he disliked the job, the hired man did not dare to complain; so with a heavy sigh he set off on his errand, traveling through the dark as fast as his heavy boots would permit, The family wagon contained two seats. Farmer Farrel took the front one, with Mosey beside him, while Jack with Cor- rigan sat in the rear, and then the horses were started on the road to Corney. “We will stop at the old mill and get my model,” said Jack, on the way. At the old structure everything was dark and deserted. “Say, Oi’ll go along wid ye,” said Mosey, as the young machinist dis- mounted from his seat. “There’s some- thing there Oi want to show ye.” Corrigan wished to interfere, but Jack, who believed that the Irishman was now really inclined to render assistance, would not let him. “There are some papers that belong to Mr. Gray. Dennis stole them when the house was burning,” said Mosey, when he and Jack were alone. “Oi can’t read, but Dennis said they’d be worth money to us some day.” “Where are they?” asked Jack, with interest. “Will you be aisy on me if Oi tell ye?” asked Mosey. “Perhaps I will.” “Oi'll trust ye,” replied Mosey. “They’re up stairs, under the flure.” They ascended the stairs, and taking up a board that Mosey pointed out, Jack drew out a small oblong packet. “T can’t read it now,” said the young machinist. “Come along. If the contents are valuable I’ll see that you get full credit for giving it up.” c He put the packet in his pocket, and taking up the model, made the Irish- man precede him down to the wagon. They were soon on the way again, the precious model — stowed away in the front of the vehicle. “T guess Mr. Benton will be rather sur- prised when he learns the true state of affairs,” thought Jack to himself. “But his treatment of Deb was shameful, and I shall tell him so.” As they passed an old barn near the out- skirts of the town: all heard aloud cry, the scuffle of many feet, and then the door of the place burst open. “Hello, what’s all this?” exclaimed Jack. “Some one in trouble!” Through the open door way sprang a tall man. He was but partly dressed, and one side of his face bore a thick coat- ing of black. He ran directly toward the road, and was followed by a dozen or more men wearing masks. Seeing the wagon he made for it as fast as his legs would carry him, “Save me, save me!” he gasped. “Get me away from these villains and I will pay you well!” and in frantic haste he clambered over the wheel and into the front of the vehicle, “What's the trouble?” asked Farmer Farrel in astenishment, while Jack took up the gun, “They want to tar and feather me!” was the panting reply. “See, they made a beginning;” and the excited individual held his face up to view. “Mr. Gray!” ejaculated the young machinist. He had not time to say more, for at that instant Corrigan, taking advantage of the excitement, hit Jack under the chin with his head, and then leaped to the ground. In doing so he fell, but picked himself up quickly, and hopped as fast as he could down the road. A second later the wagon was sur- rounded by the masked men, all armed and gesticulating wildly. “Give him up, Willington!” they yelled. “Give up Gray, or we'll tar and feather the lot of you!” CHAPTER XXV. LOVE YOUR ENEMIES, Tr was a thrilling scene, the brawny IF men, their intended victim, the would be rescuers, al] in confusion. One of the masked men attempted to pull Mr. Felix Gray to the ground, but the tool manufacturer held fast to the front seat. “Stop that!” roared Farmer Farrel. “We want that man!” called out a per- son in the mob, “No, no! Save me! save me!” cried Mr. Gray, frantically. “We will not pce him up,” exclaimed Jack. “It’s a shame to treat a dog in this fashion !” “He threw us out of work. He won’t give us us our money. He wants to starve us and our families,” called out several. “Listen!” yelled Jack, as loud as he could. “Some of you know me, I work in the tool works; I hav’n’t got my money, and need it as badly as any of you. But I say you’ll never gain any- thing by acting this way. Let Mr. Gray oO »” “We want him and we’re going to have him,” exclaimed the man at the wagon, grimly, and he renewed his efforts to pull the tool manufacturer from the seat. “You shall not,” replied Jack, deter- minedly, and raising the gun, he hit the man a sharp blow upon the hand, which made him instantly release his hold. “Go for ’em, fellows!” the man howled out, shaking the injured member in evi- dent pain. The crowd began instantly to close in upon the wagon. Mosey, in the excite- ment, tried his best to gain the ground, but Farmer Farrel -had taken the pre- caution to tie the Irishman's feet fast to the iron foot-rest, and he was unable to stir. “We must get out of this!” exclaimed Jack to the farmer. “Start up the horses. Quick!” — Farmer Farrel needed no further urging. Reaching over Mr. Gray’s body, he pulled up the reins, and struck first one and sno the other of the horses with his whip. With a bound the animals leaped for- ward. The man who had held a grip upon the tool manufacturer’s foot lost it, and slipped under the vehicle—the hind wheel passing over his leg. The crowd uttered a loud cry, but were too late to stop the sudden movement. One of the men caught hold of the tail- board of the wagon, but a blow from the young machinist’s gun dropped him to. the ground. On they went, Farmer Farrel making the horses do their very best. Suddenly a pistol shot rang out, and Mosey gave a cry of pain. “Oi’m shot!” he cried, falling backward upon Jack. “They’ve murdered me, so they have!” “Where are you hit?” asked the young machinist, anxiously. “In the soide. Oi’m dy—in’—— j : Another pistol shot interrupted his speech. “Gitting kinder hot,” cried the farmer. “Let me have the gun. Here, hold the reins,” and he gave them to Jack and took the weapon. “ We’ll see what a dose of buckshot will do.” Bang ‘he report was followed by several cries from behind. “That'll teach the pesky critters @ lesson,“ observed the farmer, as he re- sumed the reins. Even as he spoke, they saw flash in the darkness to one side of the road, fol- lowed instantly by the crack of a revol- ver. “I'm struck!” exclaimed Mr. Gray. “The villain has hit me in the shoulder!’ “Ts it bad?” asked Jack in horror. “No, only a flesh-wound, I guess, “and the tool manufacturer drew a _ sharp breath. “Drive on, don’t stop!” The command was not needed. The team was now in full gallop, and three minutes brought them into the heart 0 the town. “Straight home,” replied Mr. Gray, in return to a question from Jack as where he should be taken, “And bring Slee ates Xe eenaee GOOD NEWS. 1591 prasey along, the doctor can attend us oth.” This was done, and the family phy- sician pronounced the Irishman’s wound quite serious. “Yours will heal rapidly,” he said to the tool manufacturer. “But your right arin will never be as good as it was. That workman may recover, but it will ta‘xe months.” The sun was just rising when Jack, after a breakfast that Farmer Farrel’s wife had compelled him to eat, took the boat and rowed over to Blackbird Island. Deb saw him coming and rushed out of the cottage to meet him. “Oh, Jack, such a time as we've had!” she sobbed. “The doctor is here, and that Pooler just died.” “Pooler dead?” ejaculated the young machinist, in amazement. : He entered the back room. The doctor and Meg were there, the girl’s eyes swollen Poin crying. : “Where is Mont?” he asked. Meg pointed to the other door. “He’s in there, too,” she said, in a quivering voice. Jack entered the front chamber. Max Pooler’s body lay on the cot, covered with a white sheet. Beside it, on a low stool, with his face buried in his hands, sat Mont. The young man’s countenance was full of emotion. He took the young machin- ist’s hand in his own, and pulled the covering from the dead face before them. “Listen, Jack,” he said in a low voice, “TI want to tell you an awful secret.” “Before this man died, he confessed that he murdered my father. He was very penitent, and he—he asked me to forgive him.” “And you——” began Jack. “I- did forgive him. lt was hard, but how could I refuse a dying man?” “You did right,” returned the young machinist. “But, oh, Mont, I’m so sorry or you! Did he tell you how it came about?” ““Yes. He used to be my father’s clerk, and avarice led him to steal. By some Means he imagined my father knew of his doings, and was about to have him arrested. Half crazed by this fear, he went on board my father’s yacht one night and cast her adrift while my father Was sleeping in the state-room. The yacht went over the falls, and turned up where we found Her.” “And your father?” “Was found dead in the cabin. He said my uncle suspected him, but as Mr, Felix ray was trying to rob me of my share ‘of the tool works property he turned the bles, and threatened not only to expose him, but to implicate him in the murder as well. My uncle has been paying him money for years to keep him quiet, but Part of this went to Mosey and Corrigan as ‘hush money,’ so Pooler said.” “Tt’s a strange story,” mused Jack. q “But that isn’t all,” continued Mont. Before he died Pooler proved to me that about one half of his treasure belonged really to you.” . “To me!” ejaculated the young machin- ist, in utter astonishment. Mont nodded. “Yes, to you,” ee father held it in trust for your father, Who was not a good hand at investing money. The amounts were the proceeds of several valuable inventions.” “Then we are both rich,” returned Jack, With a broad smile; “I am glad of it, for Deb’s sake!” he added, brightly. A little later, the young machinist re- ated what had happened on the road the hight before. “And now we'll have the whole affair Straightened out,” he concluded. “I be. ieve your uncle has had all the ups and _ downs he cares for, and will let you have your own without much opposition.” ‘I trust so,” replied Mont. “I do not Care, as I said ators. to make the thing Ublic, but it has gone far enough, and oth of us must have our rights.” And then I must get the fire and the Model matters squared up and go to work °n a bigger scale,” added Jack. “I de- Clare. I’ve had adventures enough in the Past four days to last me a life time!” Five months have passed since the ti Ove words were spoken. Mont is now he sole owner of the Corney Tool Works, 4nd the Mechanics’ Saving Bank is once Cpain a flourishing institution. Mr. Felix Tay has relinquished all rights to both, ity is content to pass the remainder of is days in helping his nephew along the Toad to fortune. Nar Osey recovered, and is now a steady i oOrkman. He has signed the pledge, and Ntends to stick to it. Corrigan was never €ard of after his jump from the wagon, no one has ever taken the trouble to nd out what became of him. “ack is now superintendent at the tool horks, and besides his salary draws a hin some royalty from his father’s and ae Own inventions. Through Mr. Ben- het, who was profuse in his apologies to P when he learned the true state of he said. “Pooler said affairs—the patent planer was sold for four thousand dollars, of which, half came to the young machinist. Deb—Jack’s best girl—is now Mrs. Monteray Gray, and though she lives in one of the finest mansions of the town, is still the true and faithful little house- keeper she always was. Meg, upon whom Mont has settled a neat sum, lives with her, and Miss Parks is a frequent and welcome visitor at the place. A few weeks ago, while visiting at Corney, I met Deb driving out to Farmer Farrel’s place, and asked her how her brother was getting on. “Jack? Why, I'declare, you’d hardly know him, he’s so awfully tall! And he’s got a beard all over his face. Busi- ness is splendid, but then Jack always said that any one who did right, and stuck to his work, would get along!” And Deb is right. [THE END. ] “THE GIPSY PLOTTERS; or, THE OWNER OF No MAn’s LAND,” by Capt: Castleton, will begin week after next. 9 T [ALKS OORT OVS BY ARTHUR SEWALL, nig wd H. K., New York, writes: “I would like to be an actor, and cannot afford to go to a theatri- ‘al school. What would you advise me to do ? What pay does a supe get, and are they steadily engaged? How much does it take to learn stage dancing, and how long will it take to learn it thoroughly ¥” You cannot learn to be an actor the same as you would learna trade. To be a successful actor one must have some inborn talent, and as a word of advice to you, would say, if, after studying a few months, or you might lengthen it out to a year, you do not develop a natural) talent for the stage, give it up at once as you will only be losing valuable time without any good result. My views on this subject were fully explained in “Short Talks With the Boys” in No. 86 Goop Nrws. A ‘esupe” sometimes re- ceives as much as one dollar a night, but it is a rare occasion when he receives more than fifty cents. P.C.58., Pittsburgh, Pa., writes: “Will you be kind enough to tell me how [ may become an architect? I am nearly 15 years of age, and hope to pass for high school this year.” An architect is practically an engineer, and should secure an engineer’s educa- tion. The School of Mines of Columbia College and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology have special courses in architecture. The essential feature of all studies in architecture is drawing. At Columbia the course covers three years, and the first year is so laid out as to include exercises in the ordinary pro- cesses of draughtsmanship, the making of plans, elevations, sections, and details, both on a large and on a small scale; the use of pencil and pen, brushes and colors, with auxiliary exercises in tracing and sketching. The examples are so chosen as to make the student familiar with the commonplaces of architectural form, and are accompanied by lectures ee the ele- ments of architecture, in which the forms and proportions of the Greek and Roman models, of doors and windows, arches, staircases and balustrades, domes, and vaults, roofs and spires, are set forth, and the best way of drawing them explained. These lectures and exercises are supple- mented by special courses on perspective, and on shades and shadows. At the same time a series of illustrated. lectures is given upon Egyptian, Assyrian, Greek, and Roman architectural history, besides a course of reading on classic archeology and architecture from French and Ger- man text-books. . To those of limited means the archi- tect’s office is the proper place to begin. Let the compensation be what it may, rather find a good teacher than a good salary. You will be taught first mechan- ical drawing and tracing. Proficiency in these branches zan only be acquired after several years’* practice. Meanwhile do not neglect to study at night. Procure a list of standard works on architecture, and read them diligently. If you have ability your employer will find it out and advance you accordingly. Should you live in a city there are night classes, such as we have indicated previously in vhis article, to which you will do well to end. aot much salary can be expected at first in an architect’s office. The boy must begin at the bottom, and the ordinary wages given are from three to five dollars a week. As his work improves and be- comes more serviceable, advancement may be expected, until in time, perhaps, fifteen to twenty-five dollars a week may be earned asa draughtsman. It is well also to acquire a habit of free-hand draw- ing. Nothing takes better with a client than the ability of an architect to express his ideas by means of a quick off-hand sketch. In time, as you become proficient, solicit permission from your employer to undertake small jobs for yourself, and as you succeed in these you will be able to determine upon the desirability and pos- sibility of your success independently. Architects have a special schedule of prices of which the following is typical: For full professional services (including supervision, five per cent. upon the cost of work. In case of the abandonment of the work, the charge for partial service is as follows: Preliminary studies, one per cent.; preliminary studies, general drawings and specifications, two and one-half per cent.; preliminary studies, general ‘drawings, specifications, and de- tails, three and one-half percent. For works that cost less than ten dollars, or for monumental and decorative work, and designs for furniture, a special rate in excess of the above. For alterations and additions, an additional charge to be made for surveys and measurements. An additional charge to be made for alter- ations and additions in contracts and plans, which will be valued in proportion to the additional time and services em- ployed. Necessary traveling expenses to be paid by the client. Time spent by the architect in visiting for professional con- sultatious, and in _-the accompanying travel, whether by day or night, will be charged for whether or not any com- mission, either for office work or super- vising work, is given. The architect’s payments are successively due as _ his work is completed, or in the order of the above classifications. AMBITIOUS, Newark, N. J., writes: “I am at present working as an apprentice at the watch case engraving trade. Itis not steady, and I have not much chance to learn it. I attend “Technical School” during the evening, and would like to know if I cau learn a trade there. If so, please advise me what to learn. Iam 16 years old, fond of study, and have a public school education. What do you think of my writing and composition ?”’ Since you are fond of study, you would be an apt student for a profession. Read answer to P. C.S. in this column. The watch-case engraving trade is not as good a trade as it used to be, as most of the ornamental work on watch-cases is done nowadays by machinery. Judging from your handwriting and composition, I would say that you are a boy who would be successful at almost any trade or profession as your letter shows you are careful and methodical. These two re- quirements are necessary to success in all business pursuits. Iam not acquainted with any body who has learned a trade by attending a technical school, and therefore cannot speak positively, but judging from an unbiased standpoint, I do not think you could learn to be a first- class mechanic unless you dig in and work hard’as an ordinary apprentice, same as our grandfathers had to do in the olden times. ———_~+ 0» ____- DELL KINGSLEY’S DREAM. S DREAMED the other night that “Ned if Melton,” the “Fool of the Family,” started out with “Beach Boy Joe” and “Dan the Detective” to find “Guy Harris the Runaway,” who was “Chased Through Norway” by “The Sig- nalman’s-Boys,” “ White-Horse Fred” and “Cadet Carey.” On their way they met “Peter Potter the Page,” who said that “Teddy’s Venture” was due to “Jim Ridley’s Luck,” and “Midshipman Mer- rill” had been “Between the Lines;” and although “Nothing but a Boy,” “Reck- less Roll” “Ransomed” “The Young Duck Hunters” from “Among the Esquimaux.” When they reached the “Cave on the Island” “Tom Edison, Jr.,” was telling the story of “Frank Hunter's Peril” “On Land and Sea,” and he said “Grit” en- abled “Enola, the Gipsy Captive” “Down the Slope” to meet “Frank and Fearless” “Grimsey,” who had been “Sentenced to Siberia,” along with “Jack the Inventor,” who lived at “Breakneck Farm” with “Plucky Paul Palmer.” Then I awoke to find I had been dreaming of Goop NEws. —___+- e-e—____ CHEAPEST PLACE TO LIVE. Yennessey in Siberia (Asia), would oP ear to be the cheapest place in the world in which to live. Beef costs twopence- halfpenny a pound, and game of all kinds is in such abundance that the cost of living amounts to a mere trifle. So abundant are corn and hay, that horses are hired for a halfpenny the mile, EXCHANGE DEPARTMENT. {importTant.—This column is free to all our readers. We will not be responsible for transactions brought about through noticesin this column. All offers must be strictly exchange offers. We will not insert any “for sale” advertisements, nor exchanges of fire-arms, explosives, dangerous,or worthless articles. If exchange notices do not appear in a reasonable time, it may be understood that they were not accepted. Address all communications for this column to “Exchange De- partment.”] -—_——sS ZITHER.—Michael Shea, 7 5th avenue, New York City, has an American zither to exchange for set of boxing gloves in good condition. LIBRARIES, ETC.—Jacob Cohn, 669 Mcallister street, San Francisco, has libraries, books, a game of lotto, combination )ook-strap, 2 banks, boys’ pa- pers, etc., to exchange. Send your list and get mine. All letters answered. WATCH.—Fred. Kaltenbach, 19 Buckley street, Cleveland, Ohio, has a heavy silverine watch to ex- change for a small steam engine or best offer. LIBRARIES.—C. E. Arnold, Alliance, Ohio, has 19 5c. libraries and 2 10c. libraries to exchange for curiosities, minerals, or shells. FIFE AND STAMPS.—H. F. Spooner, 2294 7th ave., New York City, has a rosewood fife and 25 good foreign stamps to exchange for a hunting knife and sheath or best offer. % CIGARETTE ALBUMS.—C. J. Reardon, 240 N. 12th street, Philadelphia, Pa., has 45 cigarette al- bums to exchange for best offer in rare United States or foreign stamps. BOYS’ PAPERS.—John Holman, Jr., Forestville’ N.C., has 3 volumes of a boy’s paper and 35 novels to exchange for stamps or novels. Would also like to exchange stamps with collectors. MAGIC LANTERN.—Fred. C. Sincock, Han- cock, Mich., has a large magic lantern and slides, a printing press and outfit, a 4-draw telescope and other articles to exchange for old and foreign coins. Would also like to correspond with coin collectors. All letters answered. NOVELS.—R. M. Bath, 185 High stroet, Willim- antic, Conn., has 30 novels to exchange for a small printing press or bestoffer; also has a large teles- — to exchange fora hunting-knife, book, or best offer. BOYS’ PAPERS.—F. G. Egersdorff, care of Har- vey, Lucy & Co., Baltimore, Mo., has 50 5c, and 10c. novels and a bound volume of boys’ papers to ex- change for best offer. SKATES.—C. E. Ragan, 17 Moulton st, Water- town, N. Y., has a pair of all-clamp, nickel-plated roller skates, size 10 inches, to exchange for a set of boxing gloves, a pair of fencing foils, or any standard work on camping, hunting, etc., or a field glass or telescope. NOVELS-—Wayne Langston, Box 170, West Plains, Mo., has 32 novels, a number of stamps, one pair of 101-2 inch patent lever skates, and 100 cigarette cards to exchange for tin tobacco tags. All letters answered promptly. BOYS’ PAPERS.-—Jos. Neubauer, 407 East 87th street, New York City, has a large number of boys’ papers toexchange fora zither or any other musi- calinstrument. Allletters answered. CAMERA.—L. B. Goodwin, 759. Fourth avenue, Detroit, Mich., has a camera and outfit to exchange for best offer of U.S. or foreign stamps. Send list. All letters answered. BOYS’ PAPERS.—Jacob Steinberg, 710 5th ave. N., Minneapolis, Minn., has a 1.2 volume of No. 2 and a whole volume of No.3 0f Goop NEws to ex- change for best offer. FLUTE.—B. A. Moyer, 97 Main street, Lockport, N. Y., has aD flute, nearly new, 14 keys, cylinder bore, and in perfect condition, also iron rack and instruction books to exchange for best offer. BUTTERFLIES.—E. J. Smith, Box 35, Natick, Mass., has the butterflies of Massachusetts to ex- change for those of other States, and will give the scientific names of specimens. PRINTING PRESS.—J. Bruck, 258 East 122d street, New York City, has a No. 10 self-inking Bal- timorean printing press to exchange for a 4x5 ca- mera outfit. SKATES.—William Sanl. 54! East 13th st., New York City, hasa pair of acme skates (No. 11), 42 boys’ papers, 8 story papers, and 9 libraries to ex- change for a musical instrument or best offer. CIGARETTE SLIPS.—Gus Barvels, 48 Lispen- ard street, New York City, would like to hear from a. one having Paxi, Consols, or Hess cigarette slips. . % BOOKS.—J. C. Ravely, Edgeley, Lamoure Co., 8. Dak., has several books and a number of novels to exchange for other reading matter or best offer. Write first, giving list. BICYCLE, ETC.—O. E. Wilson, 75 West 87th st., New York City, has an Otto bicycle (42 in.), a pair of ice skates, books, stamps, coins, minerals, shells, games, and papers to exchange for photographic supplies.’ BOOKS.—W. J. Driscoll, P. O. Box 163, Andover, Mass., has 4 cloth-bound books by Alger, Optic and Ellis to exchange for best offer. BOYS’ PAPERS.—George F. Moore, P. O. Box 1554, New Haven, Conn., would like to exchange running numbers of boys’ papers for tobacco pic- tures. SAVINGS BANK.—J. Dembufsky, 508 South 5th street, Goshen, Ind., has a dime savings bank, a trick nail, a magic egg snake, and a book of views to exchange for best offer in novels. TELEGRAPH KEY.—William T. Weston, 237 Princeton street, East Boston, Maas., has a tele- graph key and sounder, with book of instruction, a harmonica flageolet with instruction sheet, and other articles to exchange for a polyoptican. BOOKS.—Harold Brown, 85 Sawtelle ave., Ring Building, Cleveland, Ohio, has books, 32 views of a trip around the world, 2 songsters, and a star puzzle to exchange for reading matter or other offer, All letters answered. AMATEUR PAPERS.—F. Williams, 17 Hancock street, Boston, Mass., will senda large packet of amateur papers free to all sending for his exchange list and inclosing 2 stamps for postage. CAMERA OUTFIT—W. P. Kretschmar, 311 Main street, Greenville, Miss., has a camera outfit and 18 dry plates to exchange for foreign coins. a CLUB NOTICES. The Young People’s Union Glee Club wants every boy and girl in each town in the United States from 12 years and upward to become a member, and start a branch of this club in their town. Address Y. P. U. G. Club, 266 Shawmut ave., Boston, Mass. The Goop NEWS Reading Society of San Fran- cisco, Cal., desires members throughout the United States. Initiation fee 10c.; dues 10c. per month. Address for full particulars Chas. Kinucan, Pres.,1 Morse place, San Francisco, Cal. The GOOD NEWS Story Paper Club of San Fran- cisco, Cal., wants more members. Full particulars forastamp. Representatives wanted, 1 letter- answered. Jacob Cohn, secret eae ohn, 669 McAllister street, San ISSUED WEEKLY. NEW YORK, APRIL 2, 1892. Terms to Mail Subscribers: (POSTAGE FREE.) 3 mths - - - - - 65c. | lcopy, two years - $4.00 4 okie etnies abet lem 85¢. The New York Weekly and 6months - - - - - $1.25 | Goop NEws, both for one One Year - - - - - 2.50| year - - - - - - $4.5 2 copies, one year- - 4.00 Special inducements made for large clubs. All letters should be addressed to STREET & SMITEVS GOOD NEWS, P. 0. Box 2734. 29 & 31 RoseStreet, N.Y. Back numbers of GOOD NEWS can always be obtained from your Newsdealers. If they do not have them please send direct to this office and we will supply them by mail on receipt of price. Contents of this Number. SERIAL STORIES. “Uncle Sam’s Jack Tars,” by Enrique H. Lewis. “Kit Carey’s Protege, by Lieut. Lionel Lounsberry. “Ned Melton’s Resolve,” by Edward S. ‘llis. “Tom Havens With the White Squadron,” by Lieut. Jas. K. Orton. “Jack the Inventor,” by Edward Strate- meyer. “Bob Porter at Lakeview Academy,” by Walter Morris. SHORT STORIES. “An Accidental Shot,” by Max Adeler. “My Prairie Bandits.” “Lost on the Prairie” (Illustrated), *‘A Hero,” by Warren Walters. “Intimidating the Lioness” (Lllustrated). MISCELLANEOUS. «London Statistics.” “United States Gun Shop.” “Dell Kingsley’s Dream.” “Cheapest Place to Live.” “A Dog With a Memory.” ‘Cruelty in the German Army” (Illustrated), “Newspapers of the World.” ‘What the Tail of a Comet is Composed Of.” **18326” (Result of Counting Contest). REGULAR DEPARTMENTS. “Short Talks With the Boys” on Trades, Professions, and Business Pursuits, by Arthur Sewall, “Exchange Department.” “Ticklets,” by Chas. W. Foster. “Mail Bag.” ‘‘Puzzle Corner.” ‘Short Stops.” —_——_+- 0» —___—_ OOD NEWS is one hundred issues old to-day, and we desire to thank you all, dear readers, right heartily for your patronage and the many kind words you have sent us time and again. Outside of the personal satisfaction at the material results arising from the publication as ahigh class weekly such as Goop NEws, we have taken additional pleasure at the thought that we have become so closely con- nected with al] our young people. We are doing our utmost to instruct, amuse and entertain by publishing stories of travel and adventure, humorous items and valuable information. ‘l'hat we have been successful in our efforts is shown by the large circle of readers Goop News enjoys. We sincerely hope you will all be with us on our two hundreth anniversary. And we can promise that in the years to follow you will find Goop News still the leading publicatlon for the young people and the family circle. —_ -_~>- 6 <> THE GIPSY PLOTTERS; OR, The Owner of No Man’s Land. BY CAPT. CASTLETON. The above-named story will begin in Goon News week after next. Jtis full of action, and describes life among the gipsies. This vagabond race of people is not extinet, as some people im- agine,and they can be found wandering at this late day through the South in the winter months, and in the North during the summer. Horse- trading, fortune-telling, and stealing are their principal ocenpatlions, The hero of this story runs away from a farmer to whom he is bound out. Joins the gipsies, but does not remain very long with them on account of theill feeling thalis shown him because he defeated their best wrestler in afriendiy bout. He leaves their camp with a gipsy boy about his own age, and they start out lo make their mark in life. The story is exciting throughout, and the life of a backwoodsman and the gipsies is ee ee pl ae Don't forget the date-WEEK AFTE ° Goon INTIMIDATING THE LIONESS +7 E had started from Kuruman on Wy a long journey inland. We had \ a crowd of natives with us to <@) drive the wagons, tend the cat tle, and perform the necessary work of the camp; but besides these we had taken afew simply to hunt game, as we were anxious, if possible, to have our larder re- plenished with fresh meat. “There was no lack of game along the route, nor of provender wherever the camp was pitched. Once or twice, too, we had some excitement from encounters with animals other than those we sought for food. There were frequent alarms at night, caused by the lowing and tram. pling of the oxen, which are extraordi- narily acute in scenting the proximity of beasts on the watch to carry them off. “One hunter we had whom I may honestly describe as courageous. He was in addition a skillful marksman, and in- defatigable in pursuit. His success in consequence was wonderful. In short, he was the best hunter in the party, and the rest looked up to him with a certain amount of awe. .“One morning, when we had decided that the camp should remain pitched during the day, to allow the cattle to rest and recruit, this man took a light spear and went off into the bush to hunt for small game to set forth our breakfast- table. For some time he searched in vain. Had he been adequately armed he could again and again have bagged larger animals which were constantly darting across his path. He roamed farther and farther from the camp, determined not to re- turn empty-handed. “While silently and pryingly making his way through_ the bushes, he suddenly emerged into a small opening clear of under- growth, and here his attention was attracted by seeing two lion- whelps at play. They were each about as large as a good-sized dog, and were rollin and tumbling over eac other like two New- foundland puppies. Their fierce instincts were not yet suffi- ciently developed to make them dangerous, so the hunter, after standing for a time watching them and enjoying their frolics, ventured to draw near and join in their sports. This the whelps per- mitted with much amiability, and soon all three were engaged in a thorough game of romps; the man rollin on the ground, anc the whelps jumping on to him and over him, or else all three joining ina run. The hunter as the commandant uttered his de- { termined words to sift to the dregs - the ugly charge against Carey Con- rad, and in his hand was a letter. “T found this, sir, upon the table, under some books.” “Is this the letter you were to give to cadet Mulhern, Mr. Conrad?” “Te fs; sirc” “And you failed to find it, Mr. hern? “ I failed to find it there.” Mul- Yes sir, : “But its being there proves that Mr, just where you were during the half hour. “LL GO TO HEADQUARTERS AND APPEAR AS A WITNESS IN THIS CASE AGAINST CAREY CONRAD,” WAS THE DETERMINED RESPONSE OF THE YOUNG CADET. At last Carey Conrad raised his hands, in what seemed a pitiful appeal to Heaven and cried: “My God! If I cannot prove my inno- cence of this awful accusation against me, my whole life will be a curse e But for only one instant did he seem to yield to despair, for with an effort he gained his self control and leaving his room hastened on toward the comman- dant’s quarters to face the dread ordeal. Groups of cadets stood here and there, all discussing in low tones the outcome of it all, and as he went along by them some failed to see him, others nodded coldly, a few refused to return his salu- tation, while now and then a frank voice was heard: - “Cheer up, old man.” “I'll stick to you, Conrad.” “Go in to win, boy. And their encouraging words greatly cheered the youth who had, it seemed to him, the world against him. He reached the commandant’s quarters to find there half a dozen officers besides the colonel and the adjutant, and perhaps twice as many cadets, for those who had been outside the windows when Carey Conrad was in his room, and all who had seen him enter etney, Mulhern’s room and leave it, had been hastily sum- moned to headquarters. a . cused cadet entered with erec fon cnt a defiant fiush in his eyes, tak- ing the seat in silence to which the ad- jutant assigned him, CHAPTER XXII. NOT PROVEN. HE words of the commandant created a stir ampeng the cadets, and the adjutant sat like a statue, his gaze sweeping the faces of each one. “Now, cadet Conrad, continue story,” said the commandant. “There is little more to tell, sir, for when I discovered the pocket-book in my trunk I was almost dazed with amaze- ment, and, as I told you, sir, intended seeking a brother cadet and then going to you with the report of my discovery.’ “But you did not come?” “ y sir.” “Nor start to do so?” “TI did start, sir, but just then cadet Mulhern and his friends paid me a visit, and I did not go,” and inspite of his position being a most painful one there was a twinkle of merriment in his eye as he recalled the scene that had occurred. Bie they prevent you from coming to me La “Oh, no, sir, only inasmuch that I had to be courteous to my visitors.” The commandant’s stern lips relaxed in a smile, while the adjutant turned his head away quickly to hide his langhter, for he had told his superior officer of what he had heard and seen of the fracas in Carey Conrad’s room. “You have no charge to make against ‘your visitors?” “None, sir.” “Now you assert, upon the honor of a soldier and a gentleman, that you do not your 1594 know how that pocket-book came to be in your trunk?” Te Oe ott, “You are willing to take oath on this?” ae far: 5 00 ae) 0 ae “You can resume your seat, cadet Con- rad.” Carey Conrad sat down, and there was a feeling in his heart that he had done all that he could to prove his innocence. The commandant then said: “Gentlemen, you have all heard the statement of cadet Carey, and he has no more to say in his own behalf, I be- lieve.” “Nothing, sir.” “Now I wish to question those who stood in one end of ‘the barracks and saw cadet Carey enter the room of cadet Mul- hern. All who saw him enter that room, stand up.” The cadet witnesses arose and one by one they told their story. There was hardly any difference in what they had to = “Now, I desire to have the ,statements of those who stood without the window and saw cadet Carey Conrad in his room,” These cadets also arose and their story was the same, one speaking for all. They happened to be there at the time, saw cadet Conrad finish his letter, glance over his table, as though searching for something, after which he arose and went to his trunk. They saw him take out a stamp and put it upon his letter, then raise the tray and taking something from beneath stand regarding it for some minutes. A glance showed that it was a leather pocket-book, and they had seen him glance at the bills within the folds. Then he had quickly tossed it back into the trunk, closed and locked it, and cadet Mulhern and his friends entered the room. As to the fracas that followed the in- sulting words of oe Mulhern to Carey Conrad, they were silent, for no cadet will say ought to compromise another except in very rare instances. They repeated what they saw, whether good or bad for the accused, and they could not be drawn out to say more. But there was one present who was not so governed, as he was an officer, and it was his duty to make his report of what he had witnessed. This was the adjutant, who had walked on at the commandant’s request, as the latter halted to speak to some one. He had not interfered for he left that to the coming commandant. But what he saw and heard he made known in his terse, decided way, ending with the words: “T could not censure cadet Carey Con- rad, sir, for resenting as-he did the in- sulting words of cadet Mulhern,” and he added. dryly: “Nor under the circum- stances did I blame Mr. Mulhern for re- tracting them.” All smiled at this, for the adjutant had explained just how Carey Conrad had seized Mulhern in his powerful arms and hurled him upon his back upon the table, at the same time keeping the two other cadets at bay. That the cadets felt admiration for Carey Conrad for his act of prowess and strength, there was no doubt, for they all knew how greatly Mulhern was dreaded as an athlete; but then the cloud upon the accused youth caused them to quickly turn to what would be the result of the informal investigation the commandant was making. With the testimony in all wondered what was to come next, expecting that the commandant would make inquiries of those present as to whether the accused had cleared himself or not of the charge resting upon him. But instead the commandant said: “I have certain means of knowing that there are a number of cadets at the aca- demy who being rich and well born rather look down upon one who cannot claim to be their equal in birth and riches, and there are a few of them who have entered into a conspiracy to drive cadet Carey Conrad from West Point, by fair or foul means. Knowing this, Iam determined to discover whether this lost pocket-book being found in Conrad’s trunk is not a means to that end, his dismissal; but first I must ask of my officers and the un- biased cadets present, as to their opinion of the guilt or innocence of the accused?” Turning then tothe adjutant he bade him keep atally of the names as called and their expressions of guilt or inno- cence, “Captain Burke,” called the adjutant. “I regret exceedingly to say that to clear his name of stain cadet Conrad has not. given sufficient proof of his inno- cence,” was the answer. “Captain Welby !” “Guilty!” And so on the names were called Mul- hern, Godsden and Storrey not being named. And with but several exceptions their GooDp came in response to each name the omi- nous word: “Guilty !” CHAPTER XXIII. THE VOLUNTEER WITNESS. £, URING the informal scene at head- quarters, when Carey Conrad was A facing those who deemed him <*> guilty of acrime, a young cadet came off his post as sentinel and took a seat with the others thus relieved from duty, who were grouped about the guard house. News had been brought a short while before of the accusation against Carey Conrad, his visit to Mulhern’s room, and what had followed in his cwn quarters when Mulhern and his party had gone there to charge him with the theft of the pocket-book, It seems that there had been severa! spectators to that affair which the eagle eyes of the commandant had not fallen upon, they having been gazing from a point of vantage tkrough the transom over their door, which was opposite to Conrad’s room, They had lain hidden until the storm blew over in their barracks, and then, as one of them had expressed it: “Just waltzed out to scatter the news.” This they had accomplished with dis- patch and it had thus reached the relief guard at the guard-house. The young cadet in question, who had just returned from sentinel duty on a dis- tant post had been on extra detail a few hours before to relieve one of the guard who had been taken ill. He had started when he had heard the name of Carey Conrad coupled with dis- honor, and said quickly: “Who is it that makes this abominable ae against Conrad?” “The pocket-book,” drawled one cadet facetiously. “The pocket-book was stolen, yes, but who charges Conrad with the theft?” im- patiently inquired the young cadet. “I donot know that any one person accuses him, Byrd Shannon, but I do know that Mulhern put his pocket-book in his trunk, locked it and went away with Gardner Godsden from the room. “Then several cadets, some time after, saw Conrad sneak into the corridor, go into Mulhern’s room, remain a quarter of an hour or so, and sneak out again.” “Well, what then?” “Just this. Mulhern had received a beautiful birthday gift from his folks, and some money, and when he went with some of the men to show them his pres- ents he discovered that his pocket-book was missing.” sa And poor Conrad is accused of taking i ” SOB," “It is false!” said Byrd Shannon em- phatically. “How do you know?” “Do they accuse Conrad because he sim- vy Sour to Mulhern’s room?” “ Oo. ” “What else have they to accuse him on then?” “Oh! ITknow that you admire Conrad greatly.” “As you do Mulhern.” “Granted.” “Well I admire Conrad as I do any noble hearted, plucky fellow, and this charge against him is infamous.” “Prove his innocence, then, Shannon.” “What proof have they of his guilt?” “Just this, that he was seen to take the pocket-book from his trunk, and ad- oe that he had it when Mulhern faced him.” “T do not believe it.” “Well he did, but he said that he was not aWare how it got there, and just took hold of Mulhern with those iron hands of his and forced him to beg his pardon, I heard.” “Good! I glory in his pluck.” “But it did him no good, for the com- mandant arrived with the adjutant, saw that Conrad had the book, and more, his key fitted the trunk of Mulhern.” “Ts this true?” “T cannot tell a lie, Shannon, for my name is George.” : All laughed at this excepting Byrd Shannon. That handsome young cadet had a troubled look upon his face. He was arich, dashing young fellow, liked by all and a favorite with the officers, although there was about as much deviltry in his make-up as it was possible for one of his size to contain. He delighted in a joke and having been hazed most severely by Mulhern had never forgotten it, but was paying him back whenever he got the chance by play- ing some practical joke upon him. At last Mulhern and others began to dread young Shannon’s very appearance, for they never knew what to expect at his hands. For some minutes or more he satin ieee and then broke out suddenly w : NEWS. “T say, Caruth, where is Conrad now?” “At the commandant’s quarters, being oo for the theft of Mulhern’s pocket- ook.” With a bound Byrd Shannon was upon his feet while he said almost savagely: “T’ll do it!” “Do what?” said several voices. “Go to headquarters and appear as a witness in this case against Carey Con- rad,” was the determined response of the young cadet. (T0 BE CONTINUED.) NED MELTON'S RESOLVE; By EDWARD S. ELLIS, Author of ““Ransomed,” ‘‘Enola,” “Boy Pioneer Series,” “Wyoming Series,’ Deerfoot Series,” “Loy Cabin Series,” “Among the, Esyuimaux,” “Ned Melton; or. Lhe Mystery of the Black Diamond,” ete. imitate ae. (“NED MELTON’s RESOLVE” was commenced in No 95, Back nunibers can be obtained ofall NewsAgents] CHAPTER XVI. “?HIS MUST BE LOOKED INTO.” o>, on -ETECTIVE BLOWITZ recalled the fs) experience of tbe Frenchman who ¢ found it pleasant enough to hunt the tiger, but altogether a differ- ent matter when the tiger took it into his head to hunt him. Secure in his hiding place, he had stood for a number of min- utes watching the outlaws, without it once occurring to him that some of them might turn the tables upon him. He was on the point of withdrawing further into the wood, when he heard a rustling among the bushes within a few feet of him. It could not have been made by the wind, inasmuch as there was no wind blowing. Like a flash, the hand of the officer went to his hip, where his revolver rested. He had not eluded the villains thus far to surrender now, when danger impended again. Aware that he must have been in plain sight of any one be- hind him, because of the glow of the fire- light beyond, he was unable to detect the outlines of his enemy who for that rea- son possessed an immeasurable advantage over him, But, at this critical juncture, came a growl, which clearly was not made by aman; some wild animal must have been attracted by the sight of the camp fire and was prowling around in quest of his supper. Immediately after the cavernous sound fell upon his ear, Blowitz observed the dark outlines of an enormous bear, lum- epg through the wood and almost upon’ im. ; “If you'll let me alone, I’ll agree to do the same with you,” was the conclusion of the detective, vastly relieved to dis- cover that he was threatened by such a stupid creature, instead of a desperate enemy of his own species. The brute could not have been much a hungered, or he would have assailed the man, without any preliminary introduc- tion. At that season of the year the bruin of the Arkansas wilderness has little trouble in obtaining food, and is not apt to disturb the hunter unless the latter opens hostilities. Blowitz moved nimbly around, so as to flank the beast, and, a minute later, succeeded in placing him between himself and the camp fire. By this strategy, he brought him into lainer view and was enabled to watch 1is movements without danger. Having executed this flank movement, he received no further attention from the bear, whose chief interest lay in the direction of the camp fire. He swung awkwardly toward it, halting when some rods away, evidently afraid to approach so large a body of men, whom he must have learned to hold in dread, as do all creatures that ever serve as game for the lords of creation. The detective’s series of adventures had led him so far into the pine woods, and had involved him in so many turnings, that he had wholly lost his bearings, and knew not the course to take in order to reach the railway again. His wish was to get there as soon as he could and to start southward over the ties. In fact, that was all he could do so far as he saw. By traveling long and far enough, he must reach some station where he could board the next train bound to Texas, It might be distant one mile or twenty of them, but he was prepared to face the task whatever it proved, for as has been shown, he was inclined to take matters pe eee no matter how discour- aging they might appear. he chances were that by following the course which appeared to lead to the rail- way tracks, he would go wrong; but, in- asmuch as he never could accomplish any- flected; “I can stay here till a train anh thing by standing still and possibly might go right, he fixed in his mind what appeared to be the right point of the com- pass, and moved forward, with the same caution he had used from the first. At the end of half an hour, when he found himself still in the depths of the wilderness, he paused with a sigh. “I’m wrong; more than likely Iam further from the railway than when I left the camp fire, but confound it! what is 4 fellow to do?” ‘ Striking a match and looking at his ‘| watch, he saw that it was between two and three o’clock in the morning. It was a long time yet before any train was likely to pass, but he might well-shrin from pushing further into the woods, with the certainty that he would never be able to extricate himself without help. “There’s one thing I can do,” he re- es by in one direction or the other. The rumble will tell me the location of the tracks, and then I can make my way tO them, but if that first train happens to be about ten o’clock to-morrow morniDf; and is the one I want to catch, another dismal delay is before me.” He was asking himself whether, after all, it was not wise to do this. The night was crisp and cool, and, though he woul not have found it very uncomfortable to sit on the ground, with his back against a tree, the waiting would be 0 the most monotonous nature. At such times, too, nothing is so trying as idle waiting. There is a relief in motion, eve? though we know it can accomplish n° good. One thing was proven; he had been following the wrong direction and mus therefore change it. The right or the « might be the proper one, and that coul be determined only by trial. Accordingly, after considering the matter for some minutes, he turned sharply to the right, and resumed his tedious work of trave* ing through the thick growth of pines, where he was forced to depend upon the sense of feeling alone. But, to his astonishment, he had gone only a few paces when he made the gratl- fying discovery that he had struck @ forest path of some kind. Had his o course been at right ‘angles, he migh have crossed it without a thought of ae fact, but it was nearly parallel and the first knowledge came, when he noticeé that the ground under his feet was come paratively free of leaves, and the none ous pine cones upon which he had Sea continually treading, while no lim ‘1 brushed his face, proving that the tral was quite broad. Ld “This must be looked into,” he de “Ab halting again and producing the lit "5 rubber safe, in which he carried matches, i Striking one of these, he held thet we twist. of flame above his head, and se a that he wis standing in the middle? well marked foot path, which woun a either direction among the trees, disap pearing, before reaching the margin i the area of light thrown out by lucifer. He lit several, one after the other, he made his examination as complete 4 if could. The question he asked him oP was whether the horsemen who he ue the railway train, had used this aye for approach or withdrawal. StooPly¢ and i siif.s i‘ und a down and scrutinizing the gro ving saw no signs of man or animal h passed that way lately. The infer was fair that they had not used the P nor were likely to do so. fter “TI am quite sure,” he mused, a pis flinging aside the last match, “that ied trail leads to the railway, but I’m ble one if I know which course to take. a than likely, in accordance with the ie such times, whichever one I follow ake prove the wrong one, and, when I aceper to the truth, I’ll be several miles de 1d be ence — ath, in these confounded woods.” This was another problem that cout nere solved only by experiment, since ould was no means at command that © ess give any guidance. Making & grin therefore, he turned to the left, liste a] and useing his eyes as hest he cound whenever a faint ray of moonlight 107 its way into the trail, over which he plodding his way. As nearly as he could tell, he had Boe about a half a mile, when he Ona ie aused. Although nothing like W pre’ oped rather than expected to se path sented itself, he was aware that the Vid had broadened greatly. He, suspoich that he had arrived at a clearipgs t robably marked the terminus of the tf such were the fact, it would show | he had followed the wrong course = 1’ “There's no doubt of it, but unles tb mistaken,” he added peering i? jinds gloom, “yonder is a house of some oa most likely a settler’s cabin.” eerind While Detective Blowitz stood P rings into the gloom at one side of the cles wi a light twinkled from one of it wes dows of the cabin, showing that op! not only occupied but that the ' Bop at -. jl 48 t ‘on, 8 a, ose Ye cre & BeYrrRme FeEwvow opsince a curtain was stretched across, q # a the +S pds GooDp NEWS. 1595 re astir, despite the lateness of the CHAPTER XVII. “YE’RE OFF THAR, STRANGER |” Xx T OW the officer had no intention of } )} entering the lions’ den, after his repeated escapes therefrom. The fact of this log structure being ® hear the scene of the railway robbery, Md with the inmates awake at this late four, was presumptive evidence that “me of the outlaws were there, or that deir friends were present, despite the t that the trail showed no signs of t¢men having passed that way lately ft their steeds. ‘| Put there was one piece of information He officer was exceedingly anxious to _ Ptain: that was the right course to the Way track. Whoever was in the build- 8 could enlighten him on that point, if ® chose; the question was whether it “8 safe to apply to the individual or in- Viduals for the information. \elore doing so, he made a reconnois- "ace, Not forgetting that, no matter *W poor a family may be, it is likely to Done or more dogs, Blowitz held his {®apon ready for use, as he walked ‘(708s the clearing toward the log struc- ; rhe ch came into plainer view the I er he advanced. Bt Was of the ordinary kind seen in the ’ ely settled regions of the southwest, ‘|,28 an almost square building of rough }2>) Gove-tailed at the corners, with the siruices filled with clay, and showing mele door and window in front. },2€ Only sign of life to be observed was \, tight shining through the window, In h Ope that more might be accom- et from the rear, he passed thither, ay studying all the points pre- d, and especially on the lookout for Ng could be seen of the interior. en 4 J | ues, which he held in as much dread ugh he were a tramp. Great y to his relief, however, he com- Bai the circuit, without running Tas ti any of the brutes. He noticed } gi here was no rear door, but observed th oe upper window, which being ; nildi ed in darkness proved that the | Noth? contained a second story. Mtew Ng else had been discovered, and, Some hesitation, he stepped nigher Artaj front window and listened. ‘The Keep 2 fitted so closely that he could not Ring ftound the side, but, after a few ~The » he heard some one walk across om, S00r, )) lud 4 ‘hadow ‘The step was so heavy that he it was that of a man, had not Be oy _Just then been thrown against aw, ttain which revealed the outlines Thi Oman. ia’ discovery led Detective Blowitz to 0 apply for admission without 2} .;%Y. He was not sure of entering curiny ding, but he was confident of tani, he knowledge that was so im- im. lileq 8S his hand over the door, he Metin, find the latch string which is just ® hospitably left hanging out, > Such late applicants as he. So p ae smartly on the rough _plank- ™mon. . 728 instantly answered by the A"Cy ns; 7 me in!” a 78: ay tpeved, and peering sharply within, a din,. orm of*'a tall, gaunt woman, kin fin the middle of the room, and dl or onderingly at him, as he pushed 1 as Mward and paused on the thres- if in doubt whether to enter or * welcome; come in,” she re- icing his hesitation. Ce was so hearty that Blowitz ql, taki. misgivings for the moment, + the ;28 @ couple cf steps, sat down i Yalis €nch near the door, depositing With: at his feet, and removing his «hoe pps Much defevence as if, in the Tago @ titled lady. age nt wish to intrude,” he remarked es »)3 “are you alone?” Whe € answered, keeping her Pte he had first seen her, “but on, Pet the door in the face of any Nun Matter who he is; who air ye?” ay. hospitably, was conscious of an uncomfortable misgiving that everthing was not what it seemed. This feeling was caused rather by what he heard than by what he saw. The interior and the woman herself were not displeasing. She was strong, homely of feature, gaunt and muscular, and evidently one who regarded her whole duty in life as that of laboring for others. The room was furnished plainly, but with a certain neatness and thrift that was noticeable from the first. A bright fire was burning on the hearth, and the table set at one side of the room showed that she was preparing her morn- ing meal. He noticed. that there were four plates set, indicating that she was looking for the return of her husband and sons. The candle added its light to that of the fire on the eves and pea ares verything in the large room vis10!e. : A piety ladder connected with the upper story, which was reached through an opening, barely large enough to admit the passage of a full grown man. Two chairs, a bench and several smaller articles made up the furniture below stairs. While a shake-down might be used at times on the lower floor to accom- modate visitors, it was apparent that the sleeping of the family was done above. It was the remark of the woman that her husband and sons had been absent on a hunt that might last several days, which caused him mental disquiet. e ss likely to be members of that party that only a short time before had held up the railway train. Doubtless they would form valuable members of it, if their in- clinations led them in that direction. As for the woman herself, she seemed honest Her looks and manner indicated it. She showed a simplicity and kind- ness that he could not associate with crime. So far as she was concerned, he was quite sure nothing was to be feared. He had learned that which he sought: several miles along the forest trail would take him to the railway, from which he had wandered, and once there, he would be able to extricate himself from his un- pleasant situation without further trouble. The most obvious course for him now that he knew all that was to be learned, was to leave. It would be much more pleasant to rest awhile, eating breakfast some hours later, and then following the path to his destination. But prudence whispered that this meant danger. Those desperadoes were prob- ably somewhere in the neighborhood. Although they had not ridden along the path in the woods, they might yet do so, and _~ at the cabin for their morning meal. ven if they did not come, the presence of the three men living there was likely to complicate matters to a perilous extent. Blowitz was turning these questions over in his mind, in doubt whether to ask the privilege of going to the upper story and lying down, before taking his breakfast, or whether to leave without further parley, when the woman arose from the chair and gave her attention to oon food that was preparing over the aze. The gentleman did not forget that while his hostess might be open to suspicion, she had equally good cause to regard him with the same feeling, for the appearance of a well-dressed stranger, carrying a valise, and a number of miles from the railway was enough to rouse curiosity on the part of any one. “T 'spose,” said she, with a smile, “that you ain’t used to gettin’ up so airly.” “No; this is the best time for me tostay in bed.” : “Tf you like, you can go un stairs and lay down for a nap: I'll call you when sunup comes, and you can git breakfast and start off whenever you’ve a mind.” “You have treated me very kindly and I* thank you; but I’m anxious to reach the nearest railway station, so as to hurry on my way; if I stay here too long, I will miss the cars. That wil] cause a long delay, for the passenger trains are not numerous over this road,” “You ain’t afeared?” The woman, who was moving about the room, stopped short in front of the detec- tive and shot out this question like a bullet. Her small black eyes twinkled, and an indescribable expression passed over her features. Blowitz did not know what it all meant. But he laughed quiet heartily, as he asked in turn: “What would I be afraid of? You don’t look dangerous.” “But when my old man and boys come home, why I was thinking you mought be afeared of them.” “Do they treat strangers you have been kind to them? “It ain’t that; I didn’t say they did, but I asked you if you wasn’t afeard of them.” _ “No you told me they mi back for several days to come.” _ “And I said they might come this morn- ing, but you needn’t be afeard; go up stairs jen: sleep as long as you want to, and when you have done, you can have breakfast and go on your way.” : Under an impulse which the man did not himself understand, he rose quickly grip-sack in hand, and walked to the foot of the ladder. He climbed three rounds and then stopped, surprised at his own imprudence. How could he know that he was not walking straight into a trap from which there was no withdrawal? Hle saw the woman watching him nar- rowly, and he would have given much could he have guessed the thoughts pass- ing through her mind at that moment. “What a fool I am,” he concluded, des- cending the rounds as hastily as he had climbed them. i “What’s the matter?” she asked; “you act as though you was afeard.” ; “IT told you that I am afraid of losing time. I think I'll bid you per: for I am a long way from where I want to go. “Where's that?” 3 “Texas.” “Did you fall off the kars?” Blowitz laughed outright. ; “Hardly as bad as that, but the train was robbed and I slipped off and hid in the woods. While I was doing that, the cars started, and I was left behind. She showed astonishment at this state- ment, raising coe hands and heaving a reat sigh of relief. ae . “That's what comes of folks riding on i badly when ght not be , Detective Blowitz stepped to the door, and placed his hand on the latch, when a sharp call from the outside said: “Helloa, in there!” : Instead of opening the door, he moved to the window and drew the corner of the curtain aside, so as to permit him to peep out. In the dim moonlight he discerned the figures of a dozen horsemen, drawn up in an irregular circle on the small clearing in front of the log cabin. They were not fifty feet from the front door. He knew on the instant who they were; the train robbers were on their return from the scene of their misdoings, and had halted at the cabin to obtain food. A pretty situation in which to be caught! “Don’t let them know Iam here,” whis- pered Blowitz, withdrawing from the window, as she hastened tu the door. She made no answer, but raising the latch, presented herself to the view of the free riders, who saw her tall figure outlined against the yellow light in the room. “What do you want?” she asked. “Can you fix us up a breakfast?” “Tell them no,” whispered Blowitz, but the woman either did not hear, or hearing, did not heed his wishes. “I reckon I can do something for you,” was the reply that almost caused Detec- tive Blowitz’s hair to stand on end. (TO BE CONTINUED.) a AN ACCIDENTAL SHOT. — > BY MAX ADELER,. ee AST summer Butterwick’s brother spent a few weeks with bim. He owned a “pistol cane” which he G-” carried about with him loaded; but when he went away he accidentally left it behind, and without explaining to Butterwick that it was different from or- dinary canes. So, one afternoon, a few days later, Butterwick went out to Keyser’s farm to look at some stock and he picked up the cane to take along with him. When he = to Keyser’s the latter went to the arn-yard to show him an extraordinary kind of a new pig that he had developed by cross-breeding. “Now that pig,” said Keyser,” just lays right over all the other pigs in the At- lantic slope. Take him any way you please, he’s the most gorgeous pig any- wheres around. Fat. Why he’s all fat. There’s no lean in him. He ain’t any- thing but a solid mass of lard. Put that pig near a fire and in twenty minutes his naked skeleton ’d be standing there in a puddle of grease. That’s a positive fact. ow you just feel his shoulders.” Then Butterwick lifted up his cane and gave the pig a poke. He poked it two or three times and he had just remarked: “That certainly is a bully pig,” when he gave it’ another poke, and then some- how the pistol in the cane went off and the pig rolled over and expired. “What in the mischief d’ you do that for?” exclaimed Keyser amazed and in- © dignant. This thun- uo “Do it for? I didn’t do it! dering cane must ’ve been made out of an old gun barrel, with the load left in. I never had the least idea, I pledge you my word, that there was anything the matter with it.” “That’s pretty thin,” said Keyser; “you had a grudge agin that pig, because you couldn’t seare up a pig like him, and you killed him on purpose.” “That's perfectly ridiculous.” “Oh, maybe it is; you’]] just tork over two hundred dollars for that piece of pork if you please.” “T’l] see you in Dutch Guiana first.” * * 7 * * Butterwick whipped; but if Keyser did give in first Butterwick went home witha bleeding nose, and the next day he was arrested for killing the pig. The case is coming up in afew days; and Butter- wick’s brother is on here, ready to testif about that cane. Butterwick himself, walks now with a hickory stick. ————_+- # »—_____ A DOG WITH A MEMORY. feline. remarkable feat of memory was told to me by the owner of an Irish water spaniel. His master was out walking with him at the beginning of a very severe winter. He went ona frozen mill dam, where the water was of course very deep, and_ accidentally dropped his snuff box through a little round hole in the ice. The dog was dreadfully distressed at not being able to get it, but was obliged to go home with its owner, who thought no more about the matter. Three months afterward, when the frost had gone, he and_ the dog passed by the same place. The dog paused opposite the spot where the box ad disappeared, seemed to think In- tently for a minute, then plunged In, dived to the bottom, and returned with The them plaguey kyars ;, you'll never catch kn ave known it; thatis always asked himself whether they were not me on ’em, no, never. the snuff box in his mouth, 1596 GooDp NEWS. CRUELTY IN THE GERMAN ARMY. TRHE Vorwarts, the Berlin organ of the Socialists, publishes what pur- ports to be a confidential circular issued by Prince George, of Saxony, Commander of the 12th Army Corps, to the colonels of regiments under his orders. The document bears internal evidence of being genuine (says the Berlin corres- Times), and is accepted as " pondent of the such by the entire press. The circular, which is dated from the beadquarters of the 12th Army Corps at Dresden on June 8, 1891, calls the atten- over his face and his uniform. the “horse” in the ministered to him fifty blows with a belt. admitted into hospital suffering from in- bladder. Lance-corporal Hoffmann I flogged Bombardier Dombart with his sword-belt, and on several occasions caused one hundred and fifty blows to be THE “HORSE” PUNISHMENT. tion of. colonels to several abominable cases of stupid cruelty practised by non- commissioned officers on their men. These acts, as Prince George remarks, were committed with cold and deliberate callousness. There were cases in which soldiers had been subjected daily, and for weeks or months in succession, to blows with canes or belts, which had often amounted to as many as fifty ina day. Sergeant Zwahr ordered recruits to perform the whole of the manual rifle exercise again and again during the time allotted them for breakfast until they fainted from fatigue and hunger, and be- came utterly incapacitated for their regu- lation parades and drills. On a certain occasion, as he lay in bed, he commanded a recruit to raise over his head and lower inflicted upon him with the upper leather of a riding-boot. For asmall dereliction of duty Bombardier Dombart was made to present arms one thousand eight hundred and eighty-nine times to Poff- a until he fainted from exhaus- ion. Sergeant Zehme caused some men under his orders to get up in the middle of a January night in 1890, and clothed simply in nightshirts and helmets, to perform drills in the open air during half an hour at the double. As a refinement of cruelty this man ordered his soldiers to light cigars while they were at the double dur- ing the time in which hecould count fifty, and the exercise continued until the cigars were smoked out. It is needless to point out that the cruelty of obliging acan full of boiling coffee five hundred times, till the wretched man’s muscles giving way, the hot coffee streamed all Artillery Sergeant Weyse caused a bombardier named Lorenz to be laid over gymnasium, and ad- Lorenz, refusing to submit to further punishment, was held down and flogged again, and kicked so that he had to be juries which resulted in a disease of the repeatedly men practically unclothed to smoke while breathless from running in winter weather amounts to real torture. This same Ser- geant Zehme, being one evening at supper, forced some recruits to bend the knee one thousand eight hundred times before him, until, as Prince George says, “the floor of the barrack-room was black with their perspiration,” and several of them fainted. Sergeant Zehme is further said by his commander to have systematically cuffed and kicked his men, to have arbi- trarily stopped their pay, and to have levied blackmail from them. Sergeant Pflug forced his recruits to chew their dirty socks in his presence till they turned sick. His other amenities consisted in knocking their heads against THE CHAIN PUNISHMENT. walls, smearing his muddy boots over their faces, and teaching them the parade march by striking them violently over the knee-caps with chains until thay yelled with pain. The non-commissioned officers whose names have been mentioned were all tried by court-martial, degraded to the ranks, and sentenced to terms of imprisonment varying from two to five years. The prince, however, in concluding his kindly and able-worded circular, appeals to his colonels for the honor of the army to purge regiments “from such inhuman in- structors.” Remarking that Socialism is rampant in Germany, he says that the cruelties which he has denounced are cal- culated “to shake all loyalty tothe throne and the fatherland.” MY PRAIRIE BANDITS. A TRUE STORY. —~_eo-—_— OWARD the close of a lonely and most wearisome day's ride over the bare and sparsely settled praries of Colorado in the month of October, 1876, Icame a little after dark in sight of a log cabin standing by the road. I had started out on horseback from my uncle's ranch that morning, intending to visit the ranch of a friend, distant some thirty miles, for the purpose of buying some cattle, and carried with me a con- siderable sum of money. I had intended to reach me destination by night-fall and return the next day, but had been unable to do so, and as darkness overshado.wed the prairie I felt ' a desire to reach at least a copse in which I might lie down and rest till morning before resuming my journey, as I did not care to run the risk of losing ay. way by riding onward in the dark. The night- hawks were skimming over and around me, attracted by the beetles, and the dis- tant howling of wolves gave me some hope that I should arrive at the skirts of some woodland. I did so after a while, and at almost the same instant a fire-light attracting my eye, I moved toward it, full of confidence that it might come from the camp of some wandering In- dians. I was mistaken, however, for I discovered from its glare that it was trom the hearth of the log cabin before men- tioned, and that the tall figure of an old woman passed and repassed between it and me, as if busily engaged in some household. arrangement. ; It was the first human habitation I had met with during my day’s ride, and as I referred a bed of blankets to one of eaves, and fearing I should find no other opportunity for procuring refreshments, I rode up to the cabin, and drawing rein in front of the door shouted out: “Halloo, house!” the fire within appeared in the opening. her person, and she was engaged in tobacco that I ever smelled in my life, a couple of inches from her mouth, “Can I have a night’s lodging and food “Sartin, sartin!” she replied, civilly, but when they do come, I’s right glad down off’n yer hoss, stranger, an’ come garrulous welcome, being only too glad alighted, and going in to a warm fire, about the place, was discharging the me a liberal repast of corn-bread, bacon petite. gold one, to see what time it was. cups, and then giving me divers nods and mative, as I was rather tired by my ride- her pipe-stem to a bed that stood ina In response to my summons the door opened a few moments later, and the old awhile to give me an opportunity of un- dressing. Before I had been long in bed, ane while I was congratulating myself on my good fortune, the latch of the door was noiselessly drawn, and the old woman re- entered, accompanied by a dark-lookin man of gigantic stature and form, wit stiff black hair, eyebrows, and beard. He was apparently about twenty-eight years of age, was dressed in a hunting- shirt which partly conealed a pair of dirty buckskin overalls, and he wore mocassins of the same material. I thought at the time that I had never seen any- thing half so ferocious. _As soon as this man entered the room his mother, for so the old woman proved to be, pointing to the bed on which I lay, motioned him to make no noise, on which, with inaudible steps, he walked to the chimney, put up his gun on a pair of deer’s antlers that served as a rack for that and other arms, and sat down softly before the fire then throwing a bright blaze about the room. Not liking the looks of the new-comer, and not caring to be teased by conversa- tion, I drew my head under tbe _ bed- clothes, so that I could see what was passing without leaving my own face visible. The two soon entered into con- versation, but in so low a tone that I could not distinguish what was said. My powers of attention were wrought up to the most. painful pitch of intensity. I had no doubt but that I had fallen in among thieves; that the old woman’s cupidity had been aroused by the sight of my gold watch, and that the two were at present engaged in laying plans to do away with me. I had not informed By hostess of the sum of money that I carrie with me, and she was ignorant of its existence. I carried it sewed up ina money-belt that I wore around my waist, next to my body, so that it was concealed from sight; but I feared that if it was discovered it would prove an added incen- tive to the twain in the carrying out of their supposed intentions. In case my woman whom I had seen by the light of Her attire consisted of a dirty-colored calico gown, thrown negligently about smoking from a short-stemmed corn-cob pipe some of the most execrably vile She scanned me from head to foot for a minute or so, and then removing her pipe eld it in her hand while she asked: “Wot’s yer pledger, stranger?” for myself and horse if I pay for it?” I asked her. “and right glad ter hev ye do so. Strangers hain’t often seen about this yere ranch, ter hev ’em stay an’ tork a bit: it sorter chirks a body up, ve know. Climb right in. I'll take keer of yer brute.” I scarcely waited to hear the end of her to accept it and know that I was not tres- passing upon her hospitality. I gladly enjoyed the luxury of rest. while my hostess, who was the only person I saw duties of hostler and cook. In a very short time she placed before and venison, of.which I ate heartily, my long ride having given mea sharp ap- During the course of my meal I had oc- casion to consult my watch, a handsome When I had finished my supper the old woman cleared away the tin plates and winks, remarked that she “expected” I “chose bed,” to which I sean in the affir, r and then as the cabin contained only the one-room, the old woman, pointing with corner with the words: “Thar ’tis over yon,” immediately went into the yard myself to depend upon for protection, fears became realized, I had no one but ) thousand, Austria-Hunga French: one thonsand eig hundred newspapers in Ita from the ken of all human kind. $0 my revolver, held it ready for use in such an emergency arose. At length, the man, to which | heard her reply: ai “No, I hardly think he’s asleep yet, and they again conversed in a low Vole) as before. ] Aiter a short interval, while the mal fire, I heard him say: woman?” “Stop,” said she, “I'll go and see.’ And moving near the bed, under © pretext of taking something from a S™® table, she approached so near as tO S&® my face. My eyes were indeed closes but, as may be imagined, 1 was very ™ from being asleep. id: On her return to the fire-place she 88! “Yes, he’s asleep now.” tion of my throat. ek mindy Just as I had resolved within my ™ that now or never was thie time to ? great er the 5 Y ancest; wany catt turn the Mently jc never On this the mountaineer, rising pee "1 Pat ani his stool, reached up to the rack. al att 4 Abani qul ing down an old rusty cutlass, poe oddken ae eage upon his thumb, and as if satis a nov as to its keenness, walked with the a im foe ‘|noiseless step towaid my be *airecNot b yea: stretched out his other hand in the e de » and t ce in le [Nt on th 4@,0r unal die | arch hig With a fearful burden. of anxiety | ws Perhaps moved from my breast, | silently ows 1 add See the hammer of my revolver age oacel le Gl to turning over in bed fell into 4 P 1 stif feet eh t well | inst hig vere! \ p cki n nti; Z hor 1g re that Situate; emcees | a GOOD NEWS. 1597 So I a ockiv ; ; ; ; corn ous instrument of torture, which roughly |The prospect before me was not, to say| myself simply so far as being solitary; S$] A rasped, will almost cut a horse’s tongue|the least, very delightful: two days/| indeed, I may add, I should be very sorry toward t in two—and was by means of it able to| travel over the rolling prairies, with the | to resemble him in any other particular. nother wutltg aes keep the brute’s head in the air, and|extreme probability of not seeing a| He was a Mexican, a villainous-lookin thereby prevent him from bucking. human being during that time. But I “epg mounted on a curiously ated : yet,” i HE horses generally used on the| He worked over him all that afternoon| knew there was no way to avoid it, and|horse—what the Mexicans calla pinto— P soice Mm? reat Western prairies are Com-/and much of the next day, driving him | epxerience had taught me to accept the | and when I first came in sight of him he mouly called bronchos, which term is derived, without doubt, from the Mnish adjective bronco, signifying "ose or stubborn. ow, old They are direct descendants of the mus- igs, or wild horses, large droves of which Estill to be seen in some sections; and he*Y never seem to get over a strong in- j1# desire to be at liberty and ae ave ; ye mad ard the | . iaer t a sma ce 1s to see Mmelled over the prairies, as Josed, HY ancestors for many gen rations. iy fat lany cattlemen have hundreds of them, i turn them logse in winter, when they pe said:MUently join bands of wild horses who me never felt the strong hand of the froml’-boy, and become before they are re- ured quite as wild as their Mpanions, and have to be satisfies ken in over again. the same ~W-boys who have handled ye audfm for years will tell you they he direePNot be depended upon in the St, and that they appear to min@Plce in leaving their riders o actgOut on the prairies, to walk revolme, or unable to do that, may- to die there; in fact, they m to be constantly on the Hf oe for an opportunity to on to¥mpe. ak soft! peculiarity they have of ‘ice SOMMBS'ng has been so often re- ea talk: my ne t who !@ed to as hardly to require romanll Ntion, rors of & fice it to say that whena gratifice Ncho bucks, he does it ap- red ChUPNtly with his whole heart, xing OMG ‘Tom a strong desire to rid “who ba pelt of whatever may be on ad forb0 ack, s jd distulh’® Way in which he does it nest) f arch his back like a cat, pxiety (4 4g perhaps three feet into the ly jowetf't will seem much higher if jgain, 46, 2Ppen to be on him—and a peacell & down stiff-legged, with his ess of ME NCet well together, and his reproae d etween his fore-legs. _ terms f id Will repeat this operation a rf times in an incredibly iscove? “h. SPace of time, though the fealeshres are, if you are not a xe and Cf tor horseman, that you will ‘ad esc s Ss the last ninety-nine nble at i the prairie! al fia. ° end of the performance f of > Perhaps, freed himself of th fbyettle and gone—no one which & hi Where! very possibly to p my tine Untamed comrades. ~ gee Yer had much ambition as re ebreaker ; in common pipes by ‘eee parlance, 1 had not lost not |pPog oe ing horses (i. e. I, was navi 4 1 Unting for any), and I al- appeate ghteg'< used those that were foud 0 me that looked in the Ud n y Ls dhe ever find one too com- S00 bt 2, roken to suit me. id with yates? if I may be allowed the ye OF oft ros being too completely y eats: ndlihe myself. Whenever a 11) fri 0 va, began to buck with me, rea with Nit’ felt as if I preferred 33 and the more speedily he ily I was permitted ‘to D. mays €more grateful I was. woORL™’ fe. ‘ felt that I preferred to ablis et fame one ride him who was p forty ‘ountry. with “the ways of i ee pa one Goths e tO dy r, that I was oblige fis i a all nore appearance did it r me, th Miawetked that he had a WevitD athe, » Vicious eye—he looked, : bh vf Noth very “ornery”—and D eight phthe 48 Informed that he had ae redid hoprevious year, with the h mi th forne?,.£ Was filled with d © pli itp rcbodings, ele ae re- , ' uced a cow-boy to nandrey htegei first; but he soon ae embe Was on a large cactus, if ll a, ond my new purchase was any HUM dehy, 80ed by another cow-boy aud aD ye abe, ack to camp, oon jorge for pumber one expressed himself es ne sate ; ly; said he’d break the plug e 1 jane ed? Ming 8 Neck—there was a question en cur, nq. Which neck was most in dan- te ove the waded that he guessed he was mar ttorg hh, (girthed) too tight.” = to exercise his own judg- ~ Premises and that, if he felt 8 thr to carry out the latter part [tion : » I would try to bear it with r — W. ag ’ ho iat nie j though being greatly in need rr ot 8 thy tract he could instead make him 1 tell 3 Goh Oulg cable within thirty-six hours, per Be to sa th my gratitude, and what, ey wht, ths? Seemed to be a greater in- ext ¢jc,8um of five dollars. * Used a he mounted he stayed on, Old Spanish bit—a barbar- very hard and pushing him with bit, spur, and “quiet,” a small leather riding- whip which all cow-boys have—whenever he showed the least inclination to buck. When he brought him in that night, I quite pitied the poor brute—the broncho I mean—for his sides were literally covered with foam and blood, and blood was issu- Hh from his mouth and nostrils. could not help rejoicing, however, at the change which had taken place in his eyes; they had lost their wild and vicious look, and become really quite lamb-like and reassuring—an expression not unlike that common to mules, and which, I have been informed, is assumed by bronchos with a view to deceive the unwary and improve their opportunities for escape. . set out- next morning with fear and trembling, on a journey, which I expected would take me at least three days, the distance being, as_neaf® as I could tell, about one hundred and twenty-five miles, and my destination, a “cattle camp” was quite near the central part of Wyoming. That night I passed at a cattle ranch, thirty-five miles distant, my. broncho having traveled very quietly during the day; indeed, he seemed so completely broken both’ body and spirit that I had some difficulty in inducing him to make the distance. He appeared brighter the next morning, however, having feasted during the night on a remarkably fine plot of “gramma” ' seen which was lentiful in tne vicinity. s The sun was just appearing above the horizon when I was again on my journey. I DISCOVERED IN THE DISTANCE A LARGE CANVAS-TOPPED WAGON. inevitable in plain life with considerable composure. Many dangers beset a traveler on such a journey; but these are in consideration as nothing compared with its terrible monotony. With a single companion, even if it be a rough cow-boy, it is bear- able; but alone, it is one of the most dis- ares experiences in frontier life. have no hesitation in saying that I have frequently waited several days, or gone many miles out of my way, for the companionship on a journey of some of the roughest specimens of humanity imagin- able. With what delight a traveler hails any trifling incident that breaks the mon- otony of such a ride. — Mayhap a jack-rabbit comes suddenly into view, soon disappearing in his bur- row behind a sage-bush. Several ante- lopes, first seen on your right, seem to take it into their stupid heads that you are trving, in some way, to cut them off, and dash madly across your path and dis- appear to the left. A coyote appears in the distance, and as you approach, skulks away glancing over his shoulder now and then to see if you are within gun-shot. These area few of the sights which be- uile the traveler—the most usual ones, T inky say—passing before him like a pic- ture, and, owing to the undulations of, the prairie, soon vanishing. I witnessed none of these sights on my second day’s journey. I had & much more exciting experience, I met 4 man! asoli- tary horseman like myself, I mean like was only a few hundred yards distant. As he came up he saluted me very politely, “Come se va, senor?” (How goes it, sir?) and we stopped and chatted for a few minutes, as is the custom when travelers meet on the prairies; but I watched him closely, and took pains to throw open my coat, and let him see a Colt’s revolver in my belt, toying at the same time with the handle of it. I made the interview as short as possible, taking care not to turn my back to him mean- while; and I bade him good day without regret and watched him ;disappear with- out a sigh. A Mexican on the prairies is, in. my opinion, more to be dreaded than an Indian. An Indian is an open enemy. You can warn him to keep his distance, and if he does not heed the warning, ou can at once “cut loose” on im; but a Mexican will ap- roach you under the guise of riendship, and, if he thinks he can escape detection, shoot you the minute your back is turned. Or*perhaps he will politely ask a light for his cigarrito (“Tiene lumbre, senor?”), and as you hand it to him, run a knife to the hilt in your side. If there is a more treacherous, murderously inclined creature in this wide world than the average Mexican, or “greaser”, that one meets in some parts of the West and Spanish America, the writer knows not where he will be found. He will kill a stranger with as little compunction ap- parently as he woe: a chicken, if he thinks he can make a few dollars by it and escape detec- tion. At least, J am quite sure he is never deterred from doing so by _ scruples of conscience; the only any that worries him is the fear of being found out. A man of prominence is killed on the piains ; the news goes like wild-fire over the country, and there is much talk about “ West- ern lawlessness ;” but few realize the number of men who are mur- dered in out-of-the-way -places whose fate is never known, and whose bones are left to bleach in the sun. Nothing else occurred during the day worthy of mention; and at night I reached a Jaguna, or small prairie lake, on the banks of which I made my camp. I first unsaddled my horse, bathed his back, and picking out what seemed to be the best graz- ing-ground in the vicinity, staked him out with greatest care. I then built a smal! fire of sage-brush and “buffalo-chips,” as much for sociability as any- thing, for a camp does not seem a@camp without a fire, and warmed oversome meat I had procured at my last stopving- lace, and made some tea in a ittle iron-bottomed cup, my only cooking utensil. I had nothing else for supper but some dry bread. What if the meat had been kept a little too long? if the tea would have been better if the water of the laguna had not been so strongly impregnated with alkali? if the bread was so hard that I was obliged to soak it? I was, to use a common Western eee ees “as hungry as a she-wolf,” and it was some time before I was through, to use another Western expression, “packing chuck” (i. e., eating). I then renewed my fire—though such fuel as I had will not 7 blaze, it merely smoulders—and opening out my two blankets, stretched myself out on them. By this time the sun had disappeared behind the horizon. “And o’er the lake, like benediction holy, The shadows of the evening, cool and still, Spread dusky, brooding gleams, their quiet blending With those vague thoughts that haunt us when alone.” If it is dismal to be alone on the prairies during the day, what, reader, do you imagine it is to be alone on them at night? It is an experience that few would care to gothrough more than once; but one that most travelers on the prairies are obliged to go through very frequently. I slept but little that night, visiting my horse at short intervals to see if he was still ae fastened, and keeping the fire as bright as possible, for the night air was very chilly, The possibility of the Mexican turning . £698 Goonp NEWS. — back to follow me often occurred to me, too, and this thought was hardly ealcu- lated to induce the soundest slumber. Towards. morning, however, tired nature asserted her supremacy, and I slept soundly, not waking until the sun was several hours high. Hastily springing up, I noticed, with much satisfaction, that my horse was still securely fastened, and apparently having at the time a morning doze, hav- mg eaten every blade of grass within reach of his lariat. I soon saddled him, being very careful not to “cinch” him too tightly, and “broke camp,” eating, my breakfast—what remained of the bread and meat—in the saddle. I had ridden about two hou:s when, at my right, within a few hundred yards, I noticed an antelope, quite evidently a doe. Instead of taking flight, she actu- ally advanced toward me, trotting along for a few feet, and then stopping to gaze at me, apparently in greatest astonish- ment. I expected to see her turn at any moment, and vanish like a flash; but her curiosity was evidently not yet satisfied, and she continued to advance to within, perhaps, one hundred and fifty yards of me, when she again stopped. It was a most tempting shot, and with- out thinking of the possible consequences, I bastily dismounted, uncoiled my horses’ lariat, which was fastened on the front of the saddle, took a couple of turns with it around my left wrist, and moved off from my broncho, perhaps ten feet. The antelope did not move; and takin ane my revolver, I took careful aim anc red. The next moment Iwas sprawling on the prairie, having been landed there, after two or three somersaults, with a lacerated wrist—while my broncho was “making tracks” over the prairie at a rapid pace. I thought no more of the antelope; and picking myself up as quickly as possible, started in pursuit. : I ran at the top of my speed as he had disappeared over one of the undulations of the prairie, and soon brought him in sight again. He was running less rapidly, and soon to my delight, stopped to graze. I “slowed down,” and soon approached to within a few hundred feet of him. No sooner had I done so than he kicked up his heels and started off again, stop- ping to graze perhaps a quarter of a mile distant. I again approached him, very cau- tiously, hut with exactly the same result. For fully five miles I followed that broncho, never getting any nearer to him than perhaps one hundred feet; and I had given up all hopes of ever capturing him, when I noticed a change in his behavior. He stopped grazing, threw his head away up in the air, and gazed intently toward the west. I looked in that direc- tion and discovered, perhaps two miles distant, a herd of about a dozen wild horses, My broncho Seene made up his mind what they were at the same time, and neighing loudly, started to- ward them at the top of his speed. The herd caught sight of me at the same moment and darted away like the wind, soon disappearing from view, my broncho in hot pursuit. The wild horses ran, I remember, in sinlge file, and with their long manes and tails flying in the wind, presented a beautiful sight, though one which I was hardly, at the time, in a mood to appre- ciate. Whether my broncho ever succeeded in overtaking his comrades, Inever knew; I know merely that I never laid eyes on him, or any of my outfit, again. The first thing I did when he dashed away, and I made up my mind that I should never see him again, was to take an inventory of my possessions. I had in my belt the Colt’s revolver, fully loaded; half a dozen extra car- tridges; a sheath knife, a piece of bread (which I had put in my pocket at the conclusion of my morning meal), a pipe, some tobacco, and last, but by no means least, about a dozen matches. I had not a drop of water, however, for my water-canteen was attached to my saddle; and even then, I felt very thirst after my long chase. Gladly would have bartered for it my knife, pipe, tobacco, and bread; for I knew that with alittle water and a revolver, I could, if need be, prabably subsist for many days, even if succeeded in killing nothing more tempting than a prairie-dog or one of the little owls which infest the prairie- dog “villages.” After taking account of stock, I set out in the direction I supposed the trail to be, walking at quite a moderate gait, for I wished to husband my strength as much as possible—well knowing, if I did not do so, that the unusual exercise of walking, as I had almost lived in the saddle for se¥Yeral months, would soon tire me out. at a sameness in that walk! Stretched around me on every side, as far as the eye could reach, were the roll- ing prairies, looking like great grey bil- lows, with not a living thing in sight, and nothing larger than a sage-bush to break the monotony of the landscape. It seemed as if I was alone’ with Nature; and I must confess that I longed for other company. How anxiously I climbed each little hillock in hopes that I might catch a glimpse of my trail, or of some human be- ing on the other side, and at each suc- ceeding disappointment my heart sank still lower. I was very tired, and my mouth was parched and dry; but I still plodded_ on, knowing it was my only hope. Night came on, but I did not. stop. What was the use? What sort of camp could I make? The night was far advanced; it was, I should say, not far from midnight, when suddenly—I could hardly’ believe my eyes at first—I saw in front of me a little pool of water, shining like molten silver in the moonlight—indeed it shone, in my eyes, more like brightest diamonds. It was what is called a “buffalo wal low”—a depression in the prairie which retains a small quantity of rain-water, and in which a buffalo delights to roll— hence the name. I hastened to it,‘and throwing myself on my face, had soon satisfied my thirst. What if the water was brackish—al- most the color of coffee? it was as nectar to my parched lips and throat, and my heart went up in thanksgiving to the Giver of all good. I ate about half of my bread, and after bathing my feet, which were quite swollen, threw myself on the ground and was soon asleep. I slept until sunrise, and awoke quite chilled, my clothes being saturated with the heavy dew which had fallen. I knew that I could not remain long at the wallow without food, and concluded that I had better resume my journey as soon as possible. Before leaving, how- ever, I ripped out all four pockets of the canvas coat I wore, and filled them with water. Together they securely held about three uarts of the precious liquid, and I knew that this would be sufficient to last for several days. I walked at first with much difficulty, not only from my swollen feet, but from severe pains in my limbs, the result of sleeping on the bare ground; but as the sun rose higher I “limbered up,” so to speak, and walked much easier. About noon I stopped to rest, and took a small drink of water, and finished my bread—resolving to keep a very sharp look-out for game in the afternoon. I coneluded that I had probably crossed the trail in the night without noticing it, and that I had better keep as near as eo a southernly course, for I knew was much more liable to meet some one in that direction. Late in the afternoon, just as the sun was setting, I spied a cotton-tail rabbit crouched behind a sage-bush within twenty feet of me. I easily killed it with my revolver, and, with great rejoicing, hung it on my back and kept on my way. At night I made a fire of “buffalo chips,” and roasted the rabbit in the embers. It was not very pi for I had no salt to put on it; ut I did not complain—indeed, I was hardly in a complaining mood. I kept the fire up as well as possible Susieg the night, warming myself fre- guest y before it; and the next morning elt really quite strong and well. It was nearly noon, two days from the time my broncho had disappeared, when, glancing to the west, I discovered, about three miles distant, a large canvas- topped wagon, or “prairie schooner,” drawn by four mules, moving slowly over the prairies.. How well I can realize the feelings of a shipwrecked mariner when ante catches a glimpse of a distant sa My heart thumped against my ribs most painfully as I hastened toward it, now running, now walking rapidly, and oc- casionally ee oe my revolver in the air. Now and then the wagon disap- peared in a hollow, to reappear again in a few moments, and I came within ver- haps half a mile of it, when it suddenly stopped—the occupants of it had evi- dently noticed me, forI soon saw two men jump to the ground, each with a rifle in his hand, and stand as if waiting for me to comeup. I put away my re- volver, and waved my _ handkerchief, which seemed to reassure them, for they put down their rifles and stood leaning on them as I came up. They were honést cattle-men, and lis- tened to my story with much interest, ae offering to take me to the ranch for which they were bound, and furnish me with a horse. I learned from them that I was then no more than fifteen miles from where I shot the antelope; from which I inferred that I had wandered about in a very circuitous manner, BY WARREN WALTERS, ——+——— LL the sports is goin’ to the country for their health, an’ I’m goin’ too, and don’t you forgit it, cully!” This announcement was greeted by a shout of derisive laughter from a squad of boot-blacks, newsboys, and street arabs. There wasn’t one of them believed a word of it. “What are ye givin’ us. Welcher? I s’pose the next thing you’ll want us to swaller ’]l be that yer got a match-team with a gold harness, an’ a driver in top- boots, an’ a rug ‘round his shoulders.” “Betcher life I’m _ goin’!” remarked Welcher as he swung his blacking-kit over his shoulder and sauntered leisurely He never once turned his head to answer the taunts and scoffing speeches of his comrades. Welcher’ loitered about the railroad depot until he espied a good chance, then boarded a freight train, where he re- mained undiscovered until he found him- self deep in the country. A clean little town attracted his attention, and there he resolved to “hang out awhile.” A day’s sojourn there satisfied him, and he penetrated still further into the country, for he wanted to “get off hearin’ the whistlin’ of the steam-cars—some place where the country was the genuine thing.” . : Gleetown was twenty miles distant from a railroad, was a quiet, sleepy little hamlet, and Welcher pronounced it a “dandy of a place.” Inside of twenty-four hours he found himself at home, knew all the residents by name, and was ready to pilot any stranger to his destination. He was, be- sides, an object of attention and envy to the homespun youth who listened to his yarns; in daytime, when seated on a cracker-box in the combined grocery-store and post-office, with a cigarette between his lips, he reeled off wonderful tales of city life to their parents at night. He had_ provided himself with several bundles of cigarettes, calculating that they were somewhat of a novelty in the rural districts. He had also a small sum of money; and while these lasted he pro- posed to enjoy his “summer resort” to the fullest. It was worth more than the cost of a bundle of those pernicious affairs to see Welcher flourish his little paper cigar for the benefit of some lumbering farmer, who proposed to “loaf a while down at the store.” Welcher was twelve years old. He had on a long coat, the skirts of which were nearly to the ground, and the waist buttons not much above the knee. It was an English cutaway, the tails of ‘which were so very contracted that, Welcher being stunted in stature, it made hima curious object indeed. He would not have been a genuine. city boot-black if his trousers had not been rolled up about his ankles. It was not at all cold, but he wore a dirty, red worsted comforter about his neck. On his head was a stove-pipe hat, the cast-off of some fashionable ex- quisite. Welcher wore it saucily canted over his left ear. Such a spectacle as this, you may be well assured, was an object of much won- der and speculation among the honest folk of Gleetown. It so happened that Percy Morton, a lad of overwhelming vanity, who devoted almost his whole thought to dress, came to Gleetown to spend several weeks with his cousin, Harry Clair, two or three days after Welcher’s arrival. ne of Welcher’s favorite stands in the city was a corner not far away from, Percy Morton’s house, and Percy’s father was one of Welcher’s regular customers. Welcher thought more of Harry Clair than any other boy in Gleetown; and Harry, a stout-hearted, manly lad two years younger than the boot-black, had een very kind to the city gamin. In fact, it was in Mr. Clair’s barn that Welcher spent his night, and from Harry's hands he received the most of his meals. Alice Clair was twelve and the sweetest little lass in all the country around. In Welcher’s vernacular: - “She was a daisy! None of them ar’ chromers in the winders wuz a patchin’ to her! Somehow when I seed her I couldn’t help thinkin’ of heaven’s angels. Her hair wuz jist fluffy gold, an’ her eyes put me in mind of them purrty bi johnny-jump-ups what’s in buckets! never seed nothin’ down to the Grand Central that came near her; and as fer that ar’ ten-thousand dollar gal what rode around with the circus on Jumbo’s back, she wuz nothin’ but a sugar monkey side of Harry Clair’s sister.” As have before mentioned, Welcher ae made himself known among the lads of Gleetown, and so when, the morn- ing after Percy Morton’s arrival, Wel- cher saw a crowd of boys gathered about Grove’s corner, he straightway walked thither, To his astonishment he recog- nized Percy, who was spreading himse™ = for the benefit of his country cousins. J « ‘ Welcher was heartily glad to see SON pak one from the city, sia while he did no ant admire this particular lad at all,hecew not but feel happy over meeting 4°) for resident of the city. Never doubting that far Percy was equally pleased, We chet ask promptly addressed the young dandy: ve “Halloo, Percy! I didn’t expect to Sy” “ nobody from town down here. 1s ee ard the mayor an’ perlice ar’ all gittin’ 21008 “ bully since I left!” ‘< cite fav. To Welcher’s intense oleae his city “ friend haughtily drew himself up, sta “7 contemptuously at him, turned on Vy a ds heel, and with a disdainful sniff deserv@]_ ran the crowd. > walked pow It was thecut dircet. As Percy Weg age away linked arms with Harry, Welem@y me heard him say: y — leeg. “He is a dirty little thief!" | 1.) ae tean Welcher dashed after the indian - “T lad, caught him by the collar, a d ae can’t and there thrashed the young Pr ei & too] fore cousin Harry could recover from ©) “DH astonishment. Well cent’ “You lively June-bug!” panted Hint the | cher, “ye dassen’t come down here aon an ef me a thief! I’m dirty, maybe, an ‘2 nf ©6Whe dress ’cordin’ to the fashion, but I ‘4 an’ b no thief! I has my little rackers id We town, but I ain’t crooked! Ef Ido) mind yer gov’nor’s boots, I hain’t that kiné gy that a galoot. Yer gov’nor speaks tome "Sag to. I’m allers ’spectful to him; an oa Ee yalle; you speak to me down town, C@bveg a) pi tipped my hat. Whats’ good noug én in’ a the city ’s good ’nough for the age m4 smoke Yer can’t come no gum games OP" 7” But Mr. Percy Morton !" pistl the in With this Welcher strode off W al Of un! the “Torpedo and the Whale” W his might. The Gleetown le stood the whole matter; and whi ith, del boys Ort way. Made nm § moreo: cher’s audacity in wht pee such a” mel whene maculate young dandy as oe It th ~ month little short of high treason, they tifiab _ very 2 Welcher’s indignation was J mo} but ray But what lowered Percy’s stand ate bade | than anything else was his cowal er 00d a: duct. Although he was much Lot Hleetoy heavier than Welcher, Percy ha facty ¥ Walk j, tempted to defend himself—1 ‘| woulda started to run. 4 got: brand- “Why,” said they, “be het mig Which more pluck than asick cat! } utes | f0cred have licked that feller in two MINT hel made } wonder if Percy’s pa won’t oe tow2 4 Walnut; a was Welcher Ia hike out 0 | cher to a hurry.” ov Mean Several of the men suggested ti ae Glee to the victorious boot-black that liste Juniata at the grocery store. W elcher a Spanned to this advice very complacen a hundred ao ond carefully ee ting a fresh am. calmly answered: i anny o Th “Not any of that in mine! Perey, é hard om ton thinks hisself a spoon JD ow mt thick in ice cream down here, but I kD me hy the “sp nor a dozen of boys littler than in ™ Iwo da: kin itp the boots off him the melt rounds !” 0 an After this astonishing declarer Velcher treat was not again spoken Of. fter, the sprir popularity did not decrease °C epatt habit 0 event, and his only regre “Ha Koing?” broke up the intimacy betwee? — What it a himself. Nor was this regret weal 4n even so much by the loss of man VP com Versa] cor was the deprivation of Harry 1imps elche jopaleep and the much-prized & t two Alice. pat Neral j There was something almost P% Retnee in the adoration the berg" "He til the freckle-faced Welcher felt 10° cpip. pcdbout + sister. It was not love, but tion Of © heard was something like the deve mage Moving, day to Robinson Crusoe; the vere others, Ste waif to a superior being; the ner ‘ he iver } a pebble toward a star. Welc to PY ; point he have been glad, like Friday, © street neck under the heel of her 5 Some terrj ever he saw her, there arose in ied nit th Oh, We heart a burning desire to be * << fee Ure ice anc ing Alice a service. In short. no ow wh was as different from love, as ere gre in th use the word, as a religious dill tarted. Ss different from a base-ball He: er'’s o at Pere Welcher’s money and ae with wore an ettes were nearing an eD rerals 28 | 88 too 1; latter he had been very li pil)! 9 See! doubt, had there been 0 Poor fg over the would have been so with t © nd tom th thers gs; had determined in his own mites wer! winegh the to the city when the cigare ag in th men hausted. Next to the thrashiD& ‘ig the the hug out to Percy he cherishe¢ © heavy gs which transpired an evening “Band toss he arrived. e calculated uP alse Was a t ing his city friends by get Crys) to see two, the latter being much MO” — ang tal reay able than an ordinary fight. peoP _ then Joshuway (so the goo@ io 4 dg | e Ulsion | nounced it) Jordan, who ory oe, id Vicinity to tobacco, entered the groc and Der M4 + Wat ing to make some purchaser, wh The to be ally his eye fell upon Welcne ou the, expe the center of an attentive the Moll its We were teners, giving his version Ov au! yO) Thy, thro of A. T. Stewart’s body. JOS tying © thund closer while the grocer WS”. ff@ “8 Was «tf, rer tl st purchases. When the boy rit it ye Tuctur astboard a cigarette and jicited "h &r and st faxnier was amazed. He 80 er 88 ho inspection. In selecting the™ GooDpD NEWS. 1599 cher purchased cigarrettes provided with a glass tip, as being somewhat more axe “nobby” than any others. The glass tip te seemed to strike Joshuway with an un- oe ' usual degree of wonder, and when Wel- -. cher presented him with one as a reward for his unbounded admiration, the old farmer in turn astonished the giver by asking: “Where are you stayin’, young man?” “Oh, I knocks around fer a bed where- ever I can.” “See here, favor?” “Of course I will.” “You come out home with me an’ stay a day ortwo. I'll save this cigarette to *stonish the ole lady with! She is a then. Will you do me a walke powerful smoker. I’m feared Ican’t man- Velch age it right, an’ if you’ll go long with me to engineer it, I’ll1 be powerful ob- leeged. It’s only six miles out, an’ my dignanl team ’s at the door, ef you’ll go long!” ign “T’d like it the worst kind, boss, but I . can’t afford it; my ‘collat’ is gittin’ down too low.” ror “Don't I tell ’ee it sha’n’t cost you a a Well cent? Youcome along and we'll ’sprise > callin) the ole lady. It sha’n’t cost you a cent, rz don} nef you'll stay a week, all well an’ good. Whenever you git tired I’ll harness up an’ bring ye into town.” Welcher had very serious doubts in his mind if his city comrades would believe _ that he had been driven to and from _ town, “lived like a fightin’ cock on real _ yaller cream and yaller butter, chickens an’ pies an’ apples an’ cake, without do- in’ a stroke of work, jist because he Smoked baccy with a glass stopper.” But it was the truth. He did accept the invitation, and he enjoyed three days of unlimited feeding and frolicking. He _ Made himself so entertaining tbat Josh- _ Uway did not want him to go at all; and, _ Moreover, invited Welcher to come back Whenever he wanted to and spend a month. In fact, Welcher made himself @ very agreeable to both the good people; ys) but rather than wear his welcome out he Dade them adieu, the farmer being as ood as his word in driving him back to leetown, although Welcher said he could Walk it easily. Beside all this Welcher Would take back to the city with hima rand-new shirt and a pair of stockings Which the motherly old Mrs. Joshuway focred upon him while the farmer himself Made him take a little bag of apples, Walnuts, and chestnuts all of which Wel- cher took the greatest care of as the Means of establishing his story. Gleetown was on the banks of the Juniata River which at that point was _ SPanned by a high bridge. About three , euared feet below the bridge was a great n. The winter having been an unusually : hard one, the ice on the Juniata was very thick and at the time of Welcher's visit , me “spring break” had not yet occurred. yO days of very hard rain followed by 4 te melting influences of a warm sun be- i Wo to tell upon the ice-bound river. ey) 6} elcher heard a great deal of talk about a ae Spring freshet and he too fell into the pati abit of asking the question, “Is the ice oF Koing?” He did not clearl: understand What it all meant but knew that it was 48 event, because it was the topic of uni- Yersal conversation. t elcher had made up his mind to re- ‘urn two or three days previously but the feneral interest in the “going off” of the i caused him to defer his departure “ntil the Juniata should be free. _ shout three o'clock Saturday afternoon heard the cry given that the ice was ‘ hans: Welcher, with a number of th ers, started to view the spectacle from € river bridge. Before he reached that nf th nt he saw Harry Clair coming down “A en. Street bareheaded, laboring under me terrible excitement. , Welcher! Alice and Percy are on ce and can’t reach the land. I don’t ene what they were doing, but they €in the middle of the river when it - mcd. She started to run to shore, but 3 OF Percy got so seared that he couldn’t : | wove, and she stayed to help him until it Certl oF lee a ate. i - are on a eee of nite os e! There t ! ill ort PB over the dani” ey come! They wi Oth 1€ 44 t ers saw it, and adeep groan ran a wel hrough the crowd. The bridge was lined ev “ Ing Beart. women, and children, watch- eee the» e huge cakes of ice grinding against aoe ing 7 &@Vy stone piers, crashing and pitch- IDB 4 _ 7, °Nd tossing in the wildest confusion. — a terrific sight, anda grand one ‘ ? See the immense bunches of rock al rear up like some white giant, fenvnl en plunge down again, causing a P yon among all the ice blocks in cinity. Those standing upon the , more” a Py cery watching the scene below, ap- B08. 6, > 0 be themselves in motion. Jcb the, experienced the same sensation as ve ‘e Y were upon a steamboat ploughing 0 ay through an ice floe. Wy mar’ thunder and roar from the moving a stres terrible, and they could feel Shive, wcture upon which they stood Tt wind strain with the impact. 48 hot long before those oti the bridge distinguished the two figures—the one abject and cowardly, the other forget- ful of herself, and striving to instill some courage into the soul of her cousin. A hundred throats yelled: “My God! they will go over the dam!” Boats could be of no service, and if any- thing could be done it must be done at once, or they would be hurried to death over the great dam. The women began to scream, while most of the men, panic-stricken, did not know what to do. “Ts there no help? What can be done?” they shouted. Over and above the roar of the grind- ing and crashing could be heard the screams and cries of the spectators. Many a mother went down on her knees, while brave though inefficient men grew sick with deadly fear. Welcher had not waited to hear the conclusion of Harry’s story. He compre- hended the danger, and knew that Alice Clair was in peril. He sprang away, dashed into the BPqvery store, and before any one could say nay he picked up a reel on which a quantity of rope was wound, and ran toward the bridge. The store- keeper shouted: “Stop thief!” But Welcher paid no heed. When he reached the bridge he saw that there was but a moment to spare. They would pass between the piers, and the last chance of their rescue would be past. . “Here!” he commanded; “help cut this rope. Run it out alongthe floor!” There was plenty to help, although very few knew what Welcher meant to do. When the rope was cut in three lengths, each about a hundred feet long, he made loops on two of themgand was about to make the third when the cry came: “Here they come! You will be too late! They will go over the dam !” “Tie those two fast to the timber!” he shouted, while he wrapped the one with- out a loop to a stout post; then kicking off his boots, Welcher descended it with the agility of a monkey, just in time to alight on the cake of ice whereon Alice and Percy were kneeling. The friction of his rapid descent made the rope feel like a red-hot iron, and drops of blood trickled between his fin- gers. He was able to stay the onward movement of the ice-block slightly, and grasping one of the ropes, he rapidly looped it about the body of Alice, and then shouted: “Hoist away!” Hundreds of eyes were looking over the bridge rail watching the daring deed, and a hundred prayers were uttered for his success, Fifty hands reached out to grasp the line which drew the now sense- less girl upward, She was lifted out of danger. Welcher’s strength was fast failing, but he managed to wrap the second rope about the body of the trembling boy. s he, tuo, was drawn up, Welcher could not resist saying, although the voice vas faint, it rang with triumph: : “T’m a dirty thief, am I?” By this time the block of crystal was well under the bridge. Welcher made an attempt to grasp his rope, the end of which was trailing from him, but the ice parted under his feet, and he went down into the angry, black water. Another second and the ice closed over him like the lid of acoffin. A cry of horror ¢ame from the spectators as they rushed to the other side of the bridge to see if perchance they might catch another glimpse of the brave boy, but Welcher was no more seen. In that surging, pulverizing mass, with its sharp, glassy corners, it is not probable that Welcher’s body remained intact when it reached the great sea. He had given his life cheerfully for the object of this devotion; nor had it been without some compensa- tion, for it was the end he desired—to die for Alice Clair. Besides, he had thrown back the hated word “thief” into the atterer’s lips. Ragged, dirty and rough, there was in that young spirit the soul of a paladin— a soul ready to go to the death for one so far above him that he hardly dare speak her name. —_—_ _~+ 0» — ——- “MINERALS” is the name of a new monthly published by Wm. M. Gold- thwaite, whose success with the Geo- graphical Magazine is self-evident. As its name implies, it is devoted to min- erals. It will interest people who are fond of minerals and other people fond of them who, perhaps, know nothing about them at present. It isa delightful study, that of mineralogy. Probably few people know that the United States is one of the foremost producers, already, of precious metals and of gems, and that the wes- tern wilderness holds many grand sur- prises in store for us. This periodical is oné that is commended to the scientist, to the collector, to the lapidary, to the jeweler, tothe chemist, and to the lover of beauty and the general reader. The price of it is so low that anybody can take it. Over thirty pages of reading matter every month. To introduce it the publishers will send it one year for fifty cents. Wm. M, Goldthwaite, 132 Nassau street, N. Y. Our Mail Bag. pocasscns on subjects of general interest only are dealt with in the ‘Mail Bag.” Medical or Jeral questions not answered. Goop NEws 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 ag,” P.O. Box 2734, New York City.] —- J. W. S. (Philadelphia, Pa.)—Circumstances may prevent the insertion. 0. A.F.(Glenwood, Minn.)—Write to the American News Company, Chambers street, New York City. Hf. P. S. (anknown)—In No. 9 Goop NEWS ap-; eared an article headed ‘1900 Not a Leap Year.” gead it. P. & N. (Vicksburg, Miss.)—The characters in the poem you write about are fictitious so far as the general public is concerned. Dv. F.(Washington, D. C.)—1. Otis, Lonnsberry, Or- ton, Ellis, Morris, Graydon, Alger and Stratemeyer. 2. It is the popular opinion of the people. F, F. U. (Eldred, Pa.)—1. There was no exchange notice in your letter when received by us. 2. What particular branch of science do you desire informa- tion about? Grit (Cincinnati, Ohio)—The reprint stories you mention will not appear in GOOD NEWS, but new Stories by a few of the authors may be published in a short time. Rob Roy (Fond du Lac, Wis.)—1. No premium on coin mentioned in your letter. 2. The publication you inquire about died at the time you name. 3. We thank you for kind favors. E. M. M. (Kingston, Mass.)—1. Yes. 2. Brace- bridge Hemyng is the author of the series you in- quire about. 3. The voice can be strained by over- exertion. 4. Opposite to that whence the wind pro- ceeds is the lee side. 7. H. (Eagle Pass, Tex.) —-It would take too much space to describe in detall the manufacture of the negatives, and then you would not be in a position to make them to advantage. It is much cheaper to to the plates from a regular photographic supply store. J. S. &. (Chicago. Ii.)—1. Would not advise you to join the navy if you are looking for excitement. It 1s not at all likely that we will ever again havea war. National misunderstandipgs are now settled by arbitration. 2. Write to Morris Dock Steam & Power Company, New York. 3. We thark you for kind opinion. Soap Bubbles (Buffalo, N, Y.)—Your first ques- tion was answered in a general way some time ago, and you, no doubt, have seen it. 2. Bunions may be cured, it is said, by applying iodine freely twice a day with a feather. 3. Rubthe lips with cold cream or glycerine once a week in winter and avoid viting or moistening them if you desire to keep them from chapping. P. J.D, (Auburn, N. Y.)—1. Point the camera in the direction of the object to be photographed. 2. Yes, the closet or room where you operate must be perfectly light tight. Not a ray of white light must enter, A ruby or orange colored light must only be used. 3. Load the box or plate holders in the dark room. 4. The druggist will answer this question much better than we can. 5. Over fifty thousand. 6. The leaves must be dry. C. E. P. (Charlottesville, Va.)—The life of a light- house keeper is about the most lonesome life you could have selected. Just imagine being shut up in a tower about a mile or more from land, with only one or perhaps two persons to converse with for weeks at a time. In No. 76 Goop NEWS you will find an illustrated sketch entitled “Light-House Keepers.” It would also be well for you to read “Life on a Lightship in No. 80 Goop NEWS. A. B. C. (New York)—All schools teach com posi- tion. It is not necessary to havea teacher to in. struct you in composition. What you need is prac- tice. Read an article in the daily newspaper and then try to write what you have read. You need not wrice it word for word, but write it 50 as it will make sensible reading, then branch out and write up some event that you have witnessed, describe a section of the city you are familiar with, the char- acter, nationality, and class of people who live there, the principal buildings and who occupy them. F. G. K. (Mountainville, N. J.)\—1. We have a story by the author you inquire about scheduled to commence in a short time. 2. Your handwriting is fair, although not masculine. 3. If you have a bank account and desire to get rid of it start an amateur paper. There is hardly room for one more. It would be better to buy out a paper that is estab- lished than to starta new one. You could hardly introduce a department that has not been worked by these enterprising young journalists. For a plekaure it is interesting and instructive to publish an ae paper, but for profit very few suc- ceed. Subseriber (Plymouth, Ind.)—1. Sending an ob- scene letter through the United States mail isa States prison offense. The only advice we can offer at the present time is for the person who wrote the letter to send an apology, and request that the let- ter be destroyed. As the author of the letter can be very easily traced, it would be well to have the matter attended to atonce, 2. Ignorance of the law excuses no One. We do not pretend to furnish legal advice, but as this is a flagrant case of libel, we strain a point to give our opinion. 3. The fault of not receiving the paper on time is not ours, Ask the newsdealer who supplies you. M. E. (Baltimore, Md.)—1. Rulers in foreign coun- tries at present are not having avery easy time. The principal rulers are: Queen Victoria, Great Britain and Ireland; William IT., Emperor of Ger- many and King of Prussia; Marie Francois Sadi Carnot, President of France; Humbert, King of Italy; Alphonse XIII. (a minor), King of Spain ; Kuang Hsu, Emperor of China; Mutsu Hito, Em- yeror of Japan ; Abdul Hamid IT., Sultan of Turkey; Dr. E. Wetti, President of Switzerland ; Alexander III., Emperor of Russia; Admiral Moutt, Presi- dent of Chili; Christian IX., King of Denmark: Nasir-ed-Din, Shah of Persia; Alex. I. (a minor), King of Servia. 2. A simple recipe for ginger beer is three gallons of cold spring water, one tablespoon of cream of tartar, three tablespoons of ginger, one uart of yeast. Mix together ina tub and stand for five hours. It may then be bottled, and will be fit for tise in one day. 8. Four feet nine inelies and weight 70 pounds is the avetage for a boy 13 years old. 4, Ask your tewsdealer to order the book for you ftom Athetican News Conipany. Lsevera communications left over to bs answered next Ticklets. BY Chthies «hee ——_o—__— All Right Now. Mother (reprovingly)—“Your teacher says you have sixteen demerit marks,” Little Boy—“I guess teacher hasn’t looked in her book lately. I rubbed ’em out.” Sounds So. Mr. Suburb—“I wish you would send mea pair of Cochin-China fowls.” Dealer—“Yes, sir. I’ll send them to-morrow morning, sir.’ Little Miss Suburb—“Papa, are they the kind that lay the China eggs?’ Not Guilty. Careful. Mother—“Hark! Huh! If a young Iman wants to talk to my daughter, he can just talk out loud. I hear whispering in “the parlor.” Sinall Boy—“They isn’t whisperin’, mamma. They is only kissing.” An Untruthful Boy’s Work. Pretty Teacher (severely)—“Did your mother write this excuse ?”’ Bad Boy—“Yes'm.” Pretty Teacher—“Humph! much like one of your scraw]ls.” Bad Boy—“Mamma wrote it; but, please ma’m, she had sister Jennie in one arm crying with a bumped head, and brother Willie in the other with a cut finger, and alot of sewing on her lap, and she was rocking the cradle with her knees, and she had to write with her toes.” Pretty Teacher (in the evening)—“I ain very sorry, Mr. Poorchapp, but I have changed my mind. I shall never marry.” A Map of Chicago. Chicago Lady—“Were you ever in Chicago ?” Little Miss Gotham—*‘No, ma’am, but I’ve seen a map of itin my g’ography.” Chicago Lady--“‘Ah, yes, of course. large map ?”’ Little Miss Gotham—‘No, ma’am, jes’ a little round dot.” It looks very Was ita No Heirlooms. Mrs. Maiflour (after proudly showing her family treasures to new neighbor's little daugh- ter)—*Have you any such heirlooms at home, my little dear?” Little Dear (with dignity)—“No'm. T guess our folks was always rich ’nough to trow away their old things an’ buy new ones.” Many Can Play. Teacher—“What is the meaning of the sen- tence: ‘There is always room at the top?” Bright Boy—“I guess they is talkin’ ’bout a whip-top.” Not So Anxious. Smart Boy—“Please, ma’am, it was two minutes after nine when you got here. Wen we're late you always keeps us after school.” Teacher—*Very well. You can all stay and keep me after school, if you wish.” [Smart boy subsides.] The Mother’s Fault. Small Boy (complainingly)—“Why isn’t thur any griddle-cakes this morning ?” Mother (reprovingly)—*Because you neglect- ed to go to the store yesterday and get we some eggs, as I told you.” Small Boy (with an injured air)—“You didn’t tell me they was for griddle cakes.” Still Young. Teacher—“I am surprised that you are not further advanced. You are extremely back- ward for your age.” _ Little Girl—“Yes’m. Mamma wants to marry again.” A Futile Threat. Teacher—“Tommy Dodd, if you don’t stop throwing spitballs I’ll keep you in till dark.” Tommy—‘That’s all right. Pop wants me to help carry in coal after school.” Desirable Accuracy. School Girl—‘‘How many teeth has a hen?” Mother—“A hen hasn't any teeth. Why ?” School Girl—*I am writing a composition on ‘The Care of Poultry.’ ” A Busy Household. Sociable Minister—“Do you read your Bible every day, my little dear?” Little Dear—‘‘No, indeed, I don’t have time. I’m too busy helping mamma stone raisins and things, so as to always have something nice for dinner every time you come.” Accustomed to Luxuries. ‘ Mr. Nicefello (exhibiting penknife) — “This handle is pure silver. What do you think of that?” Little Girl—“Huh! That's nothing. Sister's teeth is on a plate of pure gold.” The Worm Turns. Newspaper Bore (cheerily)—‘‘How de do? How de do? How you getting along?” cditor (wearily)—“Not very well. Too many interruptions.” Not the Coffee. Customer—“‘This coffee tastes like an old to- bacco pipe.” : Waiter—“I'll bring you a basin of water so you can wash y’r mustache.” The Waiter’s Impudence. Mr. Wayback (at hotel)—‘What’s that, lem- onade ?” : Waiter—“That’s a finger-bow], sah.” “What's it fer?” oe wash y’r fingers after eatin’, you know, sah.’ “Consarn y’r impudence, I don’t eat with my fingers if I do come from the country. I eat with my knife same as other folks.” Short Enough. p Stranger—“I see it is proposed to shorten New York into “Nort.” - Gotham Host—“Oh, iio teed. N’Yo'k 18 short enough as it is,’ 1600 Puzzle Corner. {Original contributions solicited. Please do not send Da Sete containing Obsolete words. — Address, “Puzzle Editor” Goop NEws, P.O. Box 2734, New York Jity.] —— + No. 1—WorpD SQUARE. 1. A ray of light. 2. Rest. 3. A large division of land. 4, Food taken at one time, No. 2—CROSS-WORD ENIGMA. My first is in Pope, but not in king. My second is in leave, but not in bring. My third isin pint, but not in butt, My fourth is in sever, but not in cut. My tifth isin revolver, but not in shoot. My sixth isin run, but notin scoot. My seventh is in school, but not in jail. My eighth is in pouch, but not in mail. My ninth is in slate, but not in book, My tenth is in sight, but not in look, My eleventh is in mocassins, but not in shoes, Here find a writer for your great Goop NEws. 8. LICK. No. 3—CRYPTOGRAMS, 352211323245231541114115434445231 14522354 5354143154 444, 244523243431 22353514341453444523155215435512154445 ; 24452444123545232135435535513422113414353214, ae aa No, 4- DIAMOND. 1. A vowel, 2. Todo evil. 3. A drinking frolic. 4. A pnevinatical instrument. 5. A river of North Carolina, 6. A printer’s measure (plural). 7. A consonant. NERO. No. 5—DOUBLE ACROSTIC. 1, A county in Nebraska, 2. A county in Virginia. 3. A county in Mississippi. 4, Besides, 6. A county in Michigan. 6. A connty in New Jersey. 7. A county in Massachusetts. 8 A county in Georgia. Primals and tinuls name two States. J. L. KESLER. No. 6—GoopD ADVICE. Ame—rica--canb—oyss—houl — dreadt—hego —odne —wsiti—stheb - estbh—oyspa--perpublis— hed. ite— ostso—nly fivece—utsac—opy anidi—spu blish—edev—ery w—ee—k. Ss. R. B. No. 7—GREFK CROSS. Upper Square—1. To crack. drug. 4. An excuse, Lett Square—1l. To hinder. 2, Aninstrument. 8. Soft mud. 4. An excuse. Central Square—i1. An excuse. 2. To lie at ease, 3, Pronunciation of a word meaning: “Flushed with success.” 4, High. 2. Void. 3. A Right Sqnare—I, High. 2. ‘To lend. 8. An appendage of an animal, 4, Single. Lower Square—l. High. 2. Tojump. 38 A narrow piece of woven fabric. 4. To unfold. No. 8—ENIGMA, I'm the head of a wood, And the tail of a fruit; Tam found in a soldier— Notina recruit. The sun never sees me, But not so the moon, Tam notin the sky, But (mm ina balloon, I floatin the ovean— I sink in the sea; I’m found in your coffee, But notin your tea, The soldier and sailor, Policeman as well, Cannot do without me— What am I, pray tell? LILIAN, Popular Authors. We have received such a large number of in uries from our readers for back numbers of 100D NEWS containing our popular stories, that we have been obliged to reprint some of the issues. We are, therefore, in a position to fill all orders for the stories complele at the fol- lowing prices: Where He Got His Money, by Oliver PONG os oth ecde ckve rt tah Gi tss 3 Numbers lic, The < “< on the Island, by Oliver ic BGM ik ht rei St aes od ec boot Bet 5c. Nothing But a Boy, by Oliver Optic.15 — “ 75e. A Sailor in Spite of Himself,by Harry Castlomenici f (003. f6pzier sm 6 ? 30c. Guy Harris, the Runaway, by Harry Castiemon.,.. .............6.40..:.15 4 75¢. White-Horse Fred, by Harry Castle- MEU igi prbbsde din conceit