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OR, THE TRAIL THROUGH INDIA.

By ARCHIE VAN.

HE SEALED BOX;

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Entered According to Act of Congress, in the Year 1892, by Street & Smith, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. 0.
Entered as Second-class Matter at the New Yori,

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N.Y., Post-Office, July 2, 1892.
There cress, on

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STREET & SMITH, Publishers, ‘ Lig
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FIVE CENTS PER COPY.
31 Rose Street. DB ehk ae

P.O. Box 2134, New York, July 2, 1892. Ritacenie oat rel wea

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NKEE DICK’S RISK;

BY RANDOLPH HMIiLt,

Owe eeM ag hee M ett eth eetee®

OR;

Engineering the African Central.

 

 

 

 

     

  

 

  
  

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(‘YANKEE DICK’s RISK” was commenced last week.)

| Civilized man is like a demi-god in such

CHAPTER Iit.
|a scene. In less than ten minutes by the

 
    

 

TIPPO TIBB, ARAB CHIEF. | watch the affrighted savages were beaten,
|the battle was over. The terror-stricken
AHREE minutes later pandemonium | thousands were making what escape they
2 began. The noise of the whistles, |could on every hand. The channel was

+) bells, and guns was far more effect- clear.
a ave than the shots, though the shots | Sano ee to make friends,” exclaimed
“p i Ee mS ae a AAD TTE AT PITRE BA i did sad execution. Vast lanes of crushed | Dick Flood. “Order every man to the res-
out oe THROTTLE! ee HER GO! PUR! = peace. UE F EC pone ON | and. sinking canoes were mowed. The | cue of such wounded as float near us. We
E DESERT AIR OF AFRICA, AS THE GARFIELD SPRANG FORWARD. usual shocking sights of carnage ensued, ‘can do no more for them than pick them

   
  
  
    
   
  
   
    
  
     
  
  
 
    
  
  
   
 
 
   
 
   
 
 
 
   
 
 
  
     
   
    
  
  
    
   
   
 
  
   
   
        
   

 

   
~ chance it shou

 

1794

CGooD NEWS.

 

: 7 - |
up, and then lay them on the sand by the |

river-side. This will possibly show them
that we do not like to kill or in any way
injure them.”

By noon, as Flood. afterward told me,
his expedition had picked up and merci-

fully cared for more than two hundred of |

these poor people.
* - * rl ,

Three weeks later Captain Flood’s sur-
veying expedition landed at the

marek of Central Africa.” This old fellow
is black, looks like an aged American col-
ored man, and is a person of very force-
ful character. He is the son of a low-cast

Arab and a slave woman, a pure blooded |

negress. He is another example of the
wonders of birth. No philosophy can ex-
plain why nature should have produced
of such parents a marvel in human power,
intellect, and ability to rule the destinies
of his fellow-men, while a thousand times
children born of exceeding favorable
parentage in all civilized lands amount
to nothing above their fellows:

Tippo Tibb is vastly rich, in ivory, in
the hidden gold, the price of thousands of
slaves, in lands. Stanley first fought him,
with all the force of the Belgic King and
the Congo FreeState. ‘Then the great ex-
plorer made a virtue of necessity, and set
him up as the governor of theregion. The
old rascal has managed to please both
masters, the slave-trading merchant of
Zanzabar and the King of Belgium, the
European, patron of the Congo Free State.

“Tt is queer,” remarked the boyish
Flood, as he was granted an audience
and sat on the matting in the low, rude

palace smoking with Tippo, “it is queer |
the

that you welcome a railroad. For
United States and England will be here

then, and they will stop this slave-trade |

of yours.”

“Hush!” whispered the tyrant. “I know
it. I’ve got enough. I’ve got pots and
pots of gold hid away. The groans of
dying slaves haunt me. I cannot sleep.
Boy, { have seen a herd of a thousand
men and women start off for the coast,
and only two hundred ever reached mar-
ket. Build your railroad, boy. I told
Stanlee (Stanley) when he described it
to. me, this iron elephant who breathes
fire, that one should be built. D1 help
you.”

“ “Good, old man! *Would you like to
see an engine?”

“What is that, the iron elephant?”

“Yes. Ihave one packed up there in
my boats.”

“You lie, lad!
him! The great Stanlee never had one,”

Instantly a dozen huge Arabs advanced
on the young commander. Tippo Tibb
sprang back on his divan as if afraid of
the wizzard character he had made up his
mind that “the boy” really bore.

“Grasp him!” he muttered. “He is not
aman Heisnota boy. He is the spirit
of evil, whom Stanlee told me of. Stanlee
said the evil spirit of the American re-
ligion would find me out.”

It seems that the unhappy man had got-
ten things mixed. Stanley had explained
the dogma of our faith. The Child Savior,
and the Devil of Punishment for wrong-
doing. The guilty Africo-Arab had eyi-
dently entertained suspicions of so youth-
ful a commander from the first. Now he
had decided that Dick was “the white
child-demon” come to punish him.

“Hands off, you black brutes!" shouted
Scott, the ever faithful, as he threw him-
self between his captain and the minions
who approached with the slave yoke.

The slave yoke, by the way, was a
heavy crotch of natural wood as thick as
a man’s arm. The prisoner’s neck was
thrust in the jaws of the crotch, anda
wooden pin fastened it then on the
shoulders. Only by lifting the front por-
tion could a slave march his weary fifteen
hundred miles to the coast.

“You old tyrant,” sullenly Dick spoke
it, “you will rue the day you insult an
American citizen like this. Call off your
dogs.”

But the hitherto obedient interpreter
did not dare to pass the sentence over to
the monarch.

There was a flash of a revolver twice,
thrice. Two of the king’s executioners
fell, a third was unharmed.* But four of
the great fellows now sprang on poor
Scott, and bore him to the earth.

“By our flag and Stanley’s great father !”
yelled Dick, as he attempted to battle
against six black men, who crushed the
yoke upon his handsome neck,

“Tt is no use, Dick Flood,” groaned
Tom. “Look out into the yard!”

Sure enough. The old Arab’s Soudanese
ities were mustering from every quar-

er.

“Tt is use,” replied the boy captain.
With that he reached to his leather hand-
bag that lay nearhim. His fingers closed
round the neck of a hand ‘grenade. He
remembered the stone flagging that paved
a path in the court. ;

{e could only toss the grenade into the
air and allow ay to explode it, if by
d fall on the stones.

Crash! There was a flare of fire tongues

that licked the reed stockade as a dog

wharf |
built by the famous ‘Tippo Tibb, “the Bis- |

Men, put the yoke on}

| try us and

laps water. The explosion shook the
earth. Then a thousand throats yelled all
at once:
“Allah!” “Tippo Tibb!” “Till, kill!”
“T folded my arms,” Dick afterward
told me, “and, pinned down to the Turk-
ish rug by that huge yoke, expected to
|die. But no. God had added years for
me. With remarkable discipline hun-
dreds of slaves came with skins of water.
A company of Amazonian women rushed
| out of the harem and protected the tyrant’s
body by their own. Strong arms gathered

 

poor Tom and myself like bundles of old |

iclothes. In less time than I can

we were removed to a stone prison, where
| we were shut in for hours of darkness, of
| hunger, and reflection.”

It was nearly forty-eight hours later
| that the two Yankees were marched out,
and once more brought. into Tippo Tibb’s
audience.

“TIT suppose this ends us,” remarked
Tom, as they were marching along.

“Not a bit of it. If he had been intend-
ing to wet a cimeter in our neck’s blood,
it would have been done before this. The
old rat’s curiosity is aroused. He wants
some of those hand grenades. But, my
boy, unfortunately that is the last one
| I’ve got.”

“Are there no more on the steamer?”

“Not one. Weused them all up pop-
| ping at hippopotami in the river.”

“Oh, that we could get word to the boys
ito give ’em the Gatling.”

“Thank Heaven we cannot! That would
do no good; only kill a few Soudanese,
No, I have a plan.”

“For Heaven’s sake tell it.”

But there was no more time for conyer-
| sation between the two youths.

[explained by the interpreter, “give me

| some of those fire-stones, and Ill let you |

| off. Otherwise I’ll give you a steel neck-
lace with a sharp edge.”

“We have no more, Ben Hammed, or
Tippo Tibb, whatever they call you,” ex-
plained Dick. “But I'll tell you what I
will do. Take this yoke off my neck and
my friend’s neck, give us all the liberty
we want and a thousand slaves. Then
I’ll unpack that iron camel, or elephant,
my engine, and run him for you.”

A frown began again to gather on the
wrinkled visage of the tyrant. Quick to
detect each movement in a face that held
their doom on its lips, Lieutenant Scott
put in:

“Now, oh, grand Mogul! Oh, most
sacred Hifalooten! Oh, most worshipful
high cock o’ lorum, why don’t you- just
prove us? My master is no
demon, no liar. Yousimply give hima
trial. If he don’t trot out his fire-horse
elephant, in one moon——”

“Make it two, please,” muttered Dick,
with a suppressed laugh.

“No, Captain Flood. We can lay track
along the level plain, at least, for a mile
or two, and you can get the Garfield out
and on the iron in that time.”

“All right. One moon it is, Tippo,” as-
sented Dick: “That shall be done, or you
may cut our heads off.”

A. prolonged consultation between Tippo
and his patriarchal advisers ensved. It

vas finally agreed to grant the prisoners’
request. On the experiment depended
their lives,

CHAPTER IV.
ESCAPING A TYRAN'T’S WRATH.

HE burning sun of the tropics was

{ > the worst foe, really, that the in-
fe) enious Scott had, as he toiled at

<< his track-laying along the southern
sands. He planned a mile of it. The
tyrant Arab had put hundreds of slaves
at his disposal. Zanzabar shovels were
not quite like good honest American
shovels, but the gangs did not know the
| difference, and the work went on steadily.

Another gang lifted the few rails that

were sent up, not more than a mile of iron
had Beckhard given him, and lugged them
from the vessel’s hold to shore. In fact,
long before the one moon the track was
ready. It ended a mile out on the shim-
mering plain.
_ “There, at that palm,” Scott was point-
ing out to Dick, “is the present terminus
of the African Transcontinental Railroad.
There’!l have to be a curve there, and
some blasting, too, through a ledge.”

“Mine is the harder task,” sighed the
plucky Dick. “If any fellow thinks it is
an easy task to set up a whole locomo-
tive away here in the heart of heathen-
dom, let him try it. The fact is, Beck-
hard has omit‘ed every jack and block
and fall. I’ve had to contrive all sorts of
ways to lift this huge mass. You have
been so busy I’ve not been to your prison
to consult you at night, preferring to let
you sleep. I haven’t slept four hours a
night; And in the day, if I had asked for
you or any of our surviving Europeans, I
believe I should have lost my reputation
for a wizzard.”

The mournful fact must be recorded, by
the way, that, by sunstroke and fever, six
of the whites were already dead.

“You are a wizzard, Shoah, And as

1

 

tell it |

eh? That is, you declined the whole ten,

 

“Well, well,” growled Tippo Tibb, as |

 

 

soon as the Garfield turns her wheels and
blows her whistle the old tyrant will
worship you.”

“As he now worships you, I see. You|
are free as air. Icongratulate you, Tom.
I hear you are living up at the palace
lately. Does the old wretch know you
are down here talking with me?”

“Oh, yes! There’s his sister, whom he
offered to give me for a wife, one of ten
in all.”

“What, that black beauty standing up
there in the shade of that bannana-tree?”

Yes. I said, of course, that I was
married at home—I hope I didn’t doa
very wicked thing in saying it. I am only
engaged to a young girl in Pawtucket.”

“So you are not a much married man,

princess and wll.

“Yes. Iam a Christian and not a Mor-
mon. But——”

“Well?”

“The whole ten don’t decline me yet.
They are waiting for an answer. They
have followed me round all day. See
here, captain, help meout o’ this. I can’t
have those ten greasy critters claiming
me.

Dick laughed in spite of his great men-
tal occupation, For he had been so busy
looking down at the emerging Garfield,
in the hold of the vessel there, that he
ec only half heard his perplexed friend
talk. 2

“Tl tell you what!” exclaimed poor
Scott. “I’m going to stick with you now
till we get that engine on the track.”

And without further ado, Scott tore off
his gold cimeter, his. diamond-studded
turban, his silk toggery, presents from
the monarch, The bashful boy caught up
a jumper, a pair of oveéralls, a straw hat.
He and Dick disappeared together amid
the mass.of machinery that stretched its
cobwebs. before them in the hold of the
float.

To relate all their mishaps, as these two
fellows, like Victor Hugo’s hero of “The
Toilers of the Sea,” lifted the Garfield to
the dock, would needlessly weary the
reader. Three days before the new moon
should hang in the evening sky the huge
machine was ready.

“Now, to-morrow morning we want a
thousand slaves on these hawsers to pull
her up the incline. Then we'll fire up,”
said Dick.

At sunrise double Dick’s number of
blacks were tugging away in vain at the
ropes. The Garfield could not be moved.

“Hire up!” whispered Scott.

“Hush!” replied Dick, as he stood re-
garding the tremendous incline of more
than twenty feet im one hundred. “She
would only slide her wheels.”

The boy’s brow was red as fire, and
sweat-drops rolled off him as he was
studying his problem.

“She’s dead,” yelled Tippo Tibb, exult-
antly. “Africa has killed her. Bring her
to life! Or I'll cut,/as I said I would.”

The infuriated tyrant seemed to look
upon the Garfield as a child does upon a
pet toy or promised gratification.

“Savages and half-civilized are like
children, are they not?” calmly remarked
the boy captain to his friend, as he re-
garded, unmoved, the flashing ‘Turkish
blade that was brandishing almost above
his head, , Then, turning to Tippo, he
tried to make him understarid that he
had not failed, and was giving the iron
monster a chance to breathe.

“But what will you do?” asked Tom, in
a voice husky with excitement.

“Get the crow-bars. Take the two Irish
lads and you and I; that’s a man at each
wheel. Now, we’ll bite her, inch by inch
up the grade. I’ve often seen one man,
with acrow-bar at a single wheel, move a
freight-car full of grain at the Pough-
keepsie depot.”

The reader has probably seen the same
illustration of the tremendous force of
the lever and fulcrum. It was the prin-
ciple now put in practice.

“She moves! She moves!”

It was the workmen’s “grunt” with
which they kept time. “She moves, she
moves.” Then gradually the four men fell
into sing-song tone.

“All together,” cried Captain Flood,
“we are now atour worstgrade. Sing it,
boys! Sing it to ‘God Save the Queen,’
you Irish, and Tom and I will sing it to
America,’ one and the same song.”

The grand old melody rung out on the
air, as four backs bent and four crow-bars
rose and fell, The Rhode Island boy had
a fine tenor voice. Gard McCloskey, an
Irishman, could sing falsetto, and carried
the air. Mike Doyle, the other, got in the
alto, and Captain Flood a full bass. In
fact, the four had formed a quartette
more than once on the way up the river.
This is the way the music ran. The
reader can easily sing it himself:

“She moves, she moves, she moves,
She moves, she moves, she moves.
She moves, she moves.
She moves, shie moves, she moves,
She moves, she moves, she moves.
She mov-o0-0-oves, she moves,
By George,-she moves!”

 

The effect of areally fine male quartette

on the spectators was itself magical.
They gaped, they laughed, they crowded
round, they tried to imitate the sounds,
and gave it up.

tural voice wrought in its attempt to im-
itate, they cudgeled each other

of the song. ¢
Meanwhile the Garfield, before they
knew it, had climbed the skids and act-
ually stood on the iron.
“Hurrah!” burst from the white men’s
liy

tral is ready for steam,”
marked Captain Flood, taking out his™
note-book and putting down the hour. j
“August 31, 18—, 11.45 A. M.”
“The first train

as he began to throw in the kindling
wood.
“Now

your majesty,” said Captain

>
Dick to Tippo Tibb, “I want lots of your 7
men to take buckets, and give my iron ©

camel water to drink,” and he himself

began to show how he wanted the tender, ~

which stood already on the track, filled
The blacks fell to, while Flood crow-

| barred the tender up to the Garfield, and

got under to couple. By the time the
tank was filled and water ready, the
boiler was filling, so fast did Flood work.

In short, at exactly one o’clock, fires

ready blazing, Scott, who had fired on ~

the ''aunton Branch at home, turned the
cocks and

“Hiss——t!” went the steam at the stop
cock.

“I vow she’s all right!
yelled the boy. ; 4

“All aboard!” calmly responded Dick
Flood. “Pull out the throttle!
go! Here goes—for home! Would God”
we could run her there!”

The huge machine began to snort, Puff
after puff echoed on the desert air of
Africa, just the same as under American
skies. 7

“Steam is just the same, everywhere,
in God’s great world!” almost reverently
Dick said it.

She steams!”

CHAPTER V.

THE FIRST PUFF OF AN ENGINE.
GA UFF! Patt!” |
iP “You can’t imagine the effect of
JY the Garfield’s first ten snorts,”
“CO laughed the boy engineer, as hé
was telling us the story one day in th
New York office.

“What effect?” we insisted, as he shoo
his sides at the recollection.

“Why, there were four or five thousané
aborigines, Arabs, and other heathen

crowding so near that I was actually

afraid to turn a wheel. But when sh

puffed, and rings formed above the smoke*
stack—she was a wood-burner with flat
ing smoke-stack, you know. High
into the hot air those perfect smoke-ring$
rose and floated off over the heads of th

scattering crowd. Every man pointed
up.

“Except what had tumbled down!” pul
in Scott, who sat with the narrator.

“Yes. That puff! How it echoed.
really believe in the rarefied air you cou
have heard her puff five miles.” ;

“The Body Guard caught up to the”
king,” exclaimed Scott, “and began 607
lug him off. But the old scamp was 10
coward.
tectors, and fairly leapec front of th
Garfield, grunting a command to stop.” ,

“Let her out, Tom! Pull your throttle
Run over the old brute!” calmly Captal
Flood spoke it, adding: “We may @
well kill him before we die, for, no doubly
die we must because we are too powerful
We have done what he can’t, and that
a crime with tyrants.”

The Garfield sprang forward quickly»
and left the old Arab sprawling on oF
side, as she gently tumbled him to th@
left by a touch of hersteam chest.

“The splendid movement conquered
their favor, however,” explained 100
“Weran her back and forth so quick!
that there was little time to think, poor
dull heads, of anything except the wom
derful thing itself.” ,

The result of it all was that that nigb®
saw both these Yankee boys made Pas
—that is, princes of the realm—and loade
with honors, they went through a who?
week of festivities.

“But see here,” said the conscientio
Flood, as his lieutenant and himself wet
at length about surfeited with the bes
bannanas and monkey meat. “We aly
servants of agreat corporation. We mu®
get to work. How are we to go on?” ©

“Why not wait till Beckhard sends
more men and rails?”

_ “He never will do either. He means
leave us to perish here. He has had mo
than three times the days necessary
reach us. Do you know those English fé
lows are going to strike off through
wilderness with their surveying instru
ments loaded on horses and leave us out!

“How do you know?” &

He sprang auny _from his pro
in

 

Finally, noticing the in- 3
| terruption that some venturesome gut- ©

5 into
silence, and gave way to the enjoyment ©

OS. 5
“The first locomotive of the African Cen- ~
gravely re-@@

€

for—nowhere—will
leave at 12.45,” fairly yelled Tom Scott, |

Let her 7

=O SFO OD OD mR eset ae Se ee

g¢_
id

-men’s

un Cen
ely: I
ut
our.

Japtair
of you
ny irol
himsel
tender,
, filled
1 crow

ld, and
me the

é-einee
nerica

heathen

actuall

days ago.”

the Congo River, to. the lovely shores_ of

frightened to death when the iron runs,

mene

“T was unlucky enough to overhear the
plot the very day we started for Stanley
Pool. A Belgian officer is init with them.
They will simply claim that we Yankees
wasted money and. did nothing, while
they made accurate maps, and alone know
the possible route.”

This was, indeed, grave news to the
Rhode Island boy, and, in fact, to all the
rest of the little handful of Europeans
and Americans. It meant mutiny on the
part of a hundred or so of hireling negroes
who filled up Captain Flood’s train. He
could not, of course, pay them unless
more brass wire and calico, which were
used as money, were soon forthcoming.

“IT suppose Tippo will defend us from
their boomerangs,” gloomily mused Flood.
“But how are we to get home?”

“Suppose we turn Pashas, indeed, and
live here,” suggested the light-hearted
Scott.

Flood shook his handsome black curls,
ani took off his Stanley cap, in .whose
top was fastened a photograph of the
beautiful American schoolgirl of whom
we have spoken.

“Do you know what I mean to do?” at
length he spoke, rising to his feet with
great deliberation.

“ “No, unless you fly to America with
some wings you will invent.”

“T am going to ride the Garfield from
here to the east coast. Lam going to
hunt elephants with the Garfield, stalk
lions on my engine, and put her through
monkey camps, boa-constrictor dens, or
what not!”

Scott jumped up frightened.

| when hungry.
| stroke of lightning sets the forest on fire.
The natives never

 

“Qld boy you have had a sunstroke!”

“Oh, you think me crazy, eh?”

“Come in the hut. I'll bathe
head——”

“Now see here, Scott, I’m not crazy.
Just listen. This. brute of an engineer |
has abandoned us to starve. I do not
starve, nor die. Look at this country! It|
is level as a prairie. Here are lots of |
slaves. It needs no embankment for a
road here. All we want is the iron, sir.
Yes, sir, iron! We can command slaves
as the Pharoahs did when they built the
pyramids north of us in this same con-
tinent. Iron. Give us iron!”

The idea was so simple, as all great
ideas are, that the other bright boy took
it in at once.

“T gay, captain, I have worked in a|
blast furnace at Sandy Hill, New York. If |
this old seamp of a 'Tippo Tibb could only |
point us out an ore sed.”

“But how do you get it in shape of
rails?” asked the captain. “I know where
there’s iron ore. I saw the place not two

“God be thanked! You do? Why, all
we have to do is to run the iron in long
pigs instead of short. That makes a rail.
Of course, it will be rather a rougher rail
than the best Bessimer steelon the Penn-
sylvania. But we shall notrun any Pull-
mans this year.”

The reader is here told in a few words
the happy incident that really lead to the
completion of five hundred miles of the
African Central road.

But the reader will not, of course, sup-
pose that it was nosooner said than done,
‘ar from that. The thrilling adventures
attending the laying of that stretch of
rude track, the African Central Railroad,
will form the subject of our further nac-
rative. But the fact remains that there,
this day, in the very heart of equatorial
Africa, stretching from Stanley Falls on

your |

Lake Tanaganika, it awaits the further
skill and courage of civilized nations and
the expense of European or American
capital. And really a boy engineer ac-
complished this almost miraculous under-
taking.

A week later we must picture our
‘friends in command of an African village
of eight hundred to a thousand people.
They were virtually a | before an
iron @re bed. It was the Red Hermatite
variety. i

“This dirt will smelt readily,” ex-
plained Scott.

It would take too long to describe the
toil by which arude blast furnace was
completed; but it was done. A resinous
poe of fierce flame answered in place of
coal,

After the fires had been forced long
enough, the eventful hour at last arrived
to let out the molten iron. The castings
were to be about ten feet long. The rnojds
had been carefully prepared in something
like a rail, though not the regular
T-shape.

“My heart is all in my mouth,” whis-
pered Scott, as he stood ready to unstop
pe clay plug hole at the bottom of the

iln

“Why?” asked Flood.
“What. if we fail?”
“How can we fail?”
“Because those black fools will be
and leave us.” >
* “Would to God they would leave us!”
Cried Dick, gravely.

Scott turned quickly.

|open orifice, began

|from a thousand savage throats. Another

| Now, there is a proverb and a belief in

 

“What do you mean now? I have been

e

 

GOoonD NEWS.

so busy with my furnace that I haven't
kept track of what is going on in the vil-
lage.”

“Look yonder!” cried Flood, pointing
to the farther edge of the “lay,” or series
of carefully prepared molds in the brown
sand.

“Great Heaven! What? Are they in
for a fight?” groaned Scott, starting back
and grasping his friend's shoulder.

“That’s it. All day long I have heard
it muttering. They are fre-worshipers.
They have been offended from the first
that they were forced by Tippo to collect
the sacred wood which the fire-god eats
That is only when some

burn a stick of this
wood. But we have chopped it, and fed
it to our furnace like so much grass.”

“Tsee. Now, they are all hereto avenge
their god. I see,” groaned Scott. “They
propose to murder us.”

“Seott, don’t fail me,” calmly replied
Captain Flood. “Our Scotchmen and
Irishmen and Englishmen will attend to
the streams. Unplug the furnace!”

At that instant a shower of arrows fell
all about them.

“Who’s hurt?” yelled Flood.
every one.”

SOD eT

“Not 1!”

Each of the white men was able to re-
ply.

“Now, then, we’ll show the poor fools
that we are gods of the fire. Knock her
out, Scott.”

The darkness of the night now beamed
with the red glow. The white spot, the
to trickle, to run, to
pour forth its liquid iron.

A yell that struck the stars now pealed |

“ Answer

shower of arrows rattled about them.

“For God’s mercy, men, don’t lose our
casting!” calmly rung out Flood’s voice.
“The light is so dazzling that they can’t
take any aim. Look: to your castings,
boys. Remember the African Central and
glory !”

The molten gridiron of railway iron |
slowly formed itself. The savages on the
outer circle were for a moment dum-
founded.

But in the next few minutes their rage
at the sacrilege done to the fire-god be-
‘ame a perfect frenzy. They formed a
circle. They procured fresh arrows, which
were hand cast, not shot with a bow.
They thickened their circle!

“They are coming for us, boys!” bawled
Scott.

“Tet ’em come; the casting is a suc-
cess. Hurrah! Hurrah! While it cools,
let ’em come!”

Such was Flood’s ecstatic shout as he
moved about among the castings, to stir
with a last touch a sluggish rill here and
there.

“But as sure as George Washington,
old boy,” said Scott, “they'll eat us up!”

“No, they won’t. Go to the bellows,
Mike Pickles,” commanded-Flood.

“That’s so,” laughed Tom Scott.
bellows! The bellows!
technics!” :

Our readers may be aware that to se-
eure the hotest possible fire amid a mass
of charcoal and iron ore artificial air
draughts are necessary. This Flood had
rigged by an ingenius use of a rubber pon-
toon-boat. It was worked with a bandle.

As the ore runss from a furnace till
nearly exhausted, the air draught is ap-
plied directly. The last result is a most
brilliant one.

“Hum. Bur-r-r!, Hum. Bur-r-r

A vast cloud of sparks! A fan-shaped
constellation of stars! A snapping rain-
storm of tiny blue lights! Rocket, meteor,
and in galaxy, circling in graceful curves
far out toward the herd of Africans who
stood aghast !

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

RNS
Give ’em pyro-

hd

, ——__ ~+- 0-e
A QUEER USE FOR THE BICYCLE.

Not many years ago the French Govern-
ment presented to the Sultan of Morocco
a number of bicycles as an official gift.

Morocco which states, that the Emperor
can do successfully all that he attempts.
His Majesty, therefore, never attempted
to ride the bicycles, but used them for
another purpose, that of punishing his
wives. Whenever there was a row in the
harem the delinquents were brought
forth, and, according to_ their sins, sen-
tenced to ride till they had fallen a cer-
tain number of times. One can imagine,
the Sultan addressing them. To one he
would say: “You are an old offender. I
have told you over and over again that if
you fought with the others and scratched
and pulled their hair, you would be seri-
ously punished. You shall now ride the
bicycle until you have fallen twenty-five
times.” To the other he would remark:
“This is your first offense, ten falls will
suffice for you.”. And away they went,
while fhe Sultan sat and looked on with

 

peals of laughter.

re en EE CC eee

HAND TO HAND.

siete
BY JOSEPH E, BADGER, JR.

Gemini

Qy

ay I WAS in ‘34 that Kit Carson and ]
‘} joined Fontenelle’s company,” said
cA. old Pierre Lajoie, one bright after-
=> noon, as we reclined at. ease upon
the cold green sward beneath the huge,
gnarled and wide-spreading elm-tree that
overhung hislittlelogecabin. “Westruck
out for the Yellowstone River, though
well. knowing that the Blackfeet were
unusually bitter against the pale-facés,

oecause a captive they took, and, con- |
trary to their usual custom, spared his

life, caught the small-pox, and the loath-
some disease spread through the entire
tribe, killing them byscores. Asa friend-
ly Crow told us, the Blackfeet believed
this had been a plot of the hated pale-
faces to exterminate the tribe, and they
vowed bitter vengeance.

“We could afford to laugh at these
threats, for we now formed the strongest
trapping party that ever entered the

Blackfeet country. All told, we numbered |

over a hundred men, for the most part
old experienced hands. Among these
were a good many whom I knew, and

‘some of whom you have heard me speak

of. There were Black Harris, Killbush,
Ben Cotton, La Bonte, Dick Wooton, and
others.

“We had some little trouble during the
winter with the redskins, but not much,

for they were shy about stirring up such |

a healthy hornet’s nest. Two or three of

the boys lost their hair by being shot |
from ambush by some skulking Black- }
| feet, and as often we would send a party |

out in chase of the lifter, though gener-
ally we had our trouble for our pains.
“Well, when winter began to break up,

we concluded to strike for the forts to fit |

out for the spring hunt, as we had been

unusually successful, taking several loads |

of pelts. Indian signs bad been found on
all sides of late, fresh and plenty of them,
so the boss told Kit Carson to pick three or
four men and take a scout along the trail
we intended to follow in order to get out
of the broken grounds.

“Kit, of course, chose me as one of his

comrades, for we were always like two |

brothers, and Black Harris was another,
We had not gone far when

that it was joined from time to time by
others, until a full dozen had passed by
together.

“<True as you live, boys,’ said Kit,
earnestly, ‘there’s mischief

yet we never heard from any of the red

devils, though the boys were so scattered |
that some of them could have been easily |
picked off with arrows. The varmints are |

getting ready to spring a big trap on
a

S.
““Reckon we can stan’ it,’ said Black

Harris. ‘We kin jest nat’ally clean out
the hull tribe o’ Blackfeet.’

“Well, we'll follow on and see what
we can learn, anyhow,’ added Kit, strik-
ing’ahead.

“We followed the trail for a couple of
miles, and then from a small hill we
looked down upon the Blackfeet village,
half-hidden ina snug little valley. It
was now all bustle and confusion. The
lodges were being struck, and the squaws
were loading their poniesas if fora grand
move. The bucks were in their war-paint,
as we could tell, even from that distance.

“*Boys,’ said Kit, his eyes sparkling,
‘there’s a glorious chance for a wholesale

hair-lifting. I know a short trail along |

which I can bring up the boys inside of
an hour, and those varmints won’t be
ready for steady work -under twice that.
You stay here and keep an eye on them.
If they make a sudden move, send up a
smoke signal. If not, don’t let them
smell your presence.’

“Kit didn’t wait for an answer, but
ran off toward camp like a goat, while
we waited for his return with such pa-
tience as we could command, which was

little enough, when the hated Blackfeet |

were so close at hand, and we remem-
bered so many of our friends and com-
rades had been rubbed out by their hands.

“The village was a large one, and we
judged that it contained, at least, two

undred and fifty braves, beside the young’

and old who would not be of much ac-
count either way. Yet the presence of
their squaws and pappooses we knew
would embarrass them, and prevent their
making as good a fight as’ they might
under more -favorable circumstances, so
the odds were pretty nearly balanced after

all.

“In less time than he had said, Kit
Carson returned, and with him were
thirty-eight picked men. The. others,
under command of Fontenelle, were also
coming up with the pack animals, to act
as a rear guard and sort of reserve for us
to fall back upon if worsted in the attack.
Our party were al] mounted, and Kit
brought along horses for us, we having
been scouting afoot.

“*‘Now boys,’ said Kit, addressing us

n we struck a |
fresh trail, and following it up, we saw |

brewing. |
These tracks all come from our valley, |
- a?

1795

oe erence erent ee ana

in a short. quick tone, ‘you see the work
that is cut out for us, There are the var-
mints, the same that have rubbed out and
lifted the hair of many a good and true
man. They outnumber us, but you’ve all
net bigger odds and raked the stakes.
We can do it again, if we only say we
will. How is it? Shall we lick ’em?’

“There was but one answer to this, and
then Kit told us just what he meant to
do. There was a wooded valley up which
we could ride unseen, until within a few
hundred yards of the village. Then we
could charge right at the Blackfeet, mak-
ing as much ‘meat’ as we could. If noth-
ing else, this plan had the merit of being
perfectly simple, and one we could not
well forget, or make mistakes in.

“Kit led the way around to the little
valley spoken of, and in a few minutes
we were among the grove of trees that
alone kept the Blackfeet from discovering
us. Then, seeing that all was ready and
the men growing impatient,, Carson
plunged forward, uttering his wild war-
ery, in which we all joined, telling the
Blackfeet their hated and most feared
enemy was fairly upon them.

“Before they could form to receive our
attack, fully three-fourths of them being
on foot and unarmed, engaged in getting
their lodges and property packed, we
darted into the confused scene, and halt-
ing, each man picked his mark, nearly
every one dropping his ‘meat’ cold in its
tracks. It was a scene of horrible confu-
sion. The terrified squaws and pappooses
running here and there, half-crazed with
|affright; the ponies snorting and charg-
ing in every direction, upsetting and
spilling their half-packed loads; the be-
wildered bucks yelling and screeching,
trying to rally in a body, the better to re-
sist our attack, yet no one obeying the
orders given; our men uttering their
wild ‘hough-ough gh-h!’ as they charged
|here and there, dropping the redskins
with pistol shots, or else with clubbed
rifles, while the more cool and “deliberate,
| while keeping in constant motion, the
| better to avoid the arrows that were
| hastily aimed at them, would pour a
| handful of powder into their rifles, then

drop a wet bullet down upon the powder

| to keep it in place, priming with a smart.
slap upon the stock, then pause Jong
| enough to pick out and drop some of the
| more dangerous Blackfeet. All this com-
bined formed a scene which cannot be
described—that cannot even be imagined,
unless one has been an actor in a similar
scene.

“Before long the Blackfeet regained
their presence of mind, and formed a
compact line before their women and
| children and pack animals, covering their
flight, even while themselves retreating
with such skill and steadiness that, try
as we might, we could not pierce their
line nor throw them into confusion. Say
what you will, there never lived bolder
|or more skillful warriors than these same
| Blackfeet; the only ones that could begin
{to compare with them in this are the
| Crows.

“For over an hour we kept this up,
firing upon the Blackfeet as rapidly as
we could fodder our rifles, yet keepiug
ourselves as much as possible out of dan-
ger. Still, three of our number had fallen,
and the Blackfeet began to grow bolder
as they saw their squaws and animals
gain a safe distance. They retreated more
and more slowly, stopping oftener to re-
turn our fire, until at length, after we
had driven thema mile, a yell passed
along their line and they began charging
in their turn. By charging, we trappers
don’t mean the headlong rush of the sol-
diers, but a steady, slow advance, seizing
upon every point and cover that affords,

 

 

enemy, and prepare for another before-ad-
vancing farther.

for our ammunition was getting low, but
as we fell back, stubbornly fighting for
every yard of ground, we lifted the hair
of the dead Blackfeet, whose bodies were
strewn along the entire valley.
baffle the redskins we also raised the
| scalps of our dead comrades, just as they
themselves would have bepped us todo
had they breath enough left in their
bodies. ;
“We had fallen back almost to the

when an accident occurred that very
nearly put an end to my earthly exploits.
Kit and I were nearly the last men, only
a short rifle-shot from the Blackfeet
when a bullet killed my horse and it fell

ground, and almost crushing my leg. The
Blackfeet uttered a yell of triumph, and

have at least one scalp.

turning, saw my danger.

leaped to the ground by my side, guard-—
ing me*with his own life, shoutingeto the
boys to return and help him. The Black-.
feet were charging down upon us like
mad, but Kit never flinched, and the first

 

brave fell dead, shot through the brain,

from behind which to deal a blow at the ~

And to

grove from out which we first charged, ©

against.a rock, pinning me tight to the

half a dozen dashed forward, resolved to

“Kit heard my ery of pain as I fell, and
Without hesi--
tating one moment, he dashed back and —

-

“We were obliged to give way inturn, ~—

gan wats geapreag vest

ERE S ae

a0 we torspmreane Wet <a -

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
1798S

GooDp

NEWS

 

At this moment the boys came back, and
only one of the six Indians escaped from
their rifles. ‘‘hen the horse was dragged
aside, and Dick Wooton, a young giant
in size and strength, flung me upon his
back, and carried ine safe to the timber.
Kit’s horse had run away, but as it took
the back trail it ran into’our reserve,
thus telling them we must be in a tight
place, and they, leaving the animals
under a small guard, hastened to our as-
sistance,

“Not a moment too soon did they come
up, either, for the Blackfeet were press-
ing us hard, and our powder was almost
gone. Seeing thisfresh enemy, the Black-
feet took their position among the rocks,
and made astuboorn stand. We filled
our pouches—or rather the others did, for
I was disabled—with ammunition, and
then charged the redskins on foot. It
was a desperate, bloody fight for full an
hour, but then our men gradually pushed
the Blackfeet back until they lost the
rocks, when they mounted and fled at top
speed after their families, thoroughly

whipped

es Me did not pursue them, being satis-
fied with the lesson we had already
taught them, and went into camp on the
battle-ground. We buried our dead—nine
in all—but left the redskins where they
lay to feed their brothers, the coyotes,
only lifting their hair.

“Tt was several days before I could use
my legs, or sit in the saddle, but Kit
made an easy litter, and I traveled quite
comfortably But it was a long time be-
fore the Blackfeet recovered from that
heavy blow, and for a season we trapped
in peace, so far as they were concerned,”
concluded Lajoie, grimly chuckling.

THE MUTINY.

BY CHARLES DALY DOUGLAS,

nes Gy meme

 

 

 

some time, and became anxious for

new sights and scenes, so I took

passage on a small vessel at Havre
bound for a pleasure excursion in the
Mediterranean. This vessel was English |
built, being in fact one of the largest
class of pleasure yachts. Her late owner |
was a wealthy but cdissoiute young noble,
who had built and luxuriously fitted up
the Belle, as he called her, for his own
use. Coming over to Havre he left her in
charge of the captain and repaired to
Paris, where he plunged into every species
of dissipation. Before many weeks had
elapsed he fell into the handssof several
of his own countrymen, who were profes-
sional gamblers and blacklegs, although
their real character was disguised by the
most fastidious dress and the most scru-
pulous deportment. From this point the
story of poor Lord C—— is that of hun-
dreds of others. The conspiracy that
these sharks formed to plunder him was
perfectly successful, and he lost more at
the gaming-table than his estates would
yield for a whole lifetime. Mad with his
ill-fortune, as he unsuspectingly thought
it, he offered to put up the Belle against
five thousand pounds. Jt was done, and
he lost—it would have been impossible |
for him to win. Tossing off a tumbler of |
raw brandy, he rushed from the place and
was not seen again for two days, when |
his body was found among the drowned
at the Morgue.

The scoundrels who now owned the
yacht were glad to get rid of her before
the affair became too public, and therefore
offered her for sale at two thousand
pounds. . I had seen the vessel at Havre,
and taken a great fancy to her, and know-
ing that she was richly worth five times
the sum demanded, I conceived a plan of
forming a little stock-company of two of
the wealthy Americans then sojourning
in Paris, and purchasing her, particularly
with the view of making a pleasuse ex-
cursion in the Mediterranean. The _ pro-
ject worked to a charm; the shares were

nickly taken, and the new owners of the

elle set about making their preparations
for a six months’ cruise along the shores
of the great sea, which with me was a
long-cherished plan.

But we experienced some trouble before
our voyage began. The captain of the
yacht made his appearance in Paris with
the unwelcome news that his crew had
deserted to a man, being dissatisfied with
the proposed voyage, and that he feared
he should not be able to ship another.

The difficulty was at length remedied
by the kind assistance of the American
Consul, and a dozen men were procured
for the voyage. The business of attending
to this important affair was by unani-
mous consent intrusted to me, and as my
fellow voyagers were in ignorance of the
charaeter of the crew they were not
troubled with the anxieties that beset me
aboutthem. Asis generally the case, able
seamen were not to be picked up ina
foreign port, nor could we obtain either
English or Americans. Of the twelve

I HAD been sojourning in Paris for

 

 

 

that we shipped at Havre, seven were

French, two Portuguese, two Spanish,
and one a mulatto from the West Indies.
They were all an ill-favored, rasgally-
looking set; but the mulatto was cer-
tainly the most brutal, ferocious-appear-
ing human being that my eyes ever be-
held. He was quite seven feet. high, long-
limbed, broad-chested, and strong as a
horse, His coarse features were usually
as heavy and sullen as those of an idiot,
but occasionally a gleam of intelligence
shot across them that made him look
almost fiendish,

After completing their shipment, the
consul took me aside, and said, very seri-
ously:

“Now, sir, after helping you get this
crew, I am free to give you a piece of ad-
vice—don’t sail with them——”

“What?”

“Hear me out. Don’t sail with them,
unless you have a captain who knows

how to enforce discipline and compel
obedience.” ,
“T’ll answer for him,” was my reply.

“Ross Cryder is as brave as a lion, and
not afraid of anything in the shape of a

man. I knew him in command of a Liver- |.

ool liner long before he met Lord C—-—.
Je’1l do, I know.”

“Well, I’m glad of that,” said the con-
sul, drawing a long breath. “Tell him
from me that the only members of his
crew that I really know anything against
are the two Portuguese and the darkest
Spaniard. They have been in the galleys.
I suspect that little Frenchman of being
a spy for a secret order of assassins at
Rome, but I’m not certain. The captain
will see for himself that the mulatto
wants watching; his face is a continual
warning.”

All our preparations were at last made,
and we left Havre with a favorable wind
that quickly sped us across the Bay of
Biscay. I communicated the suspicions
of the consul to Captain Cryder, and
found, as I expected, that he was per-
fectly equal to the occasion. He was
kind, but prompt and firm with his
motley crew; and after one or two col-
lisions with the more unruly of them,
which ended by their getting into irons
for twenty four hours, the crew seemed to
be subdued and orderly. But I could see
the captain never relaxed his vigilance,
and I resolved I would second him with
my eyes and ears to the utmost.

Aside from these misgivings, the voy-
age was a most delightful one. The
weather was mild, the sea smooth, the
wind exactly in the right direction; and
we were running rapidly down the coast
of Portugal. The passengers numbered
twenty, including the servants; ten being
men, three ladies, the wives of some of
the owners, and three children. We
whiled away the time with reading,
whist-playing, and music, and spent
much of it on deck, chatting and enjoy-
ing the voyage.

I must explain here that the cabin and
saloon which we occupied in the after
part of the yacht communicated with the
deck by means of a narrow stair-way,
hardly wide enough for two to pass.

One night, about eleven, after all the
other passengers had retired, I had been
walking the after-deck with the captain,
enjoying a quiet cigar. The moon shone
brightly, and the scene was so captivat-
ing that I lingered on deck to observe it
after [had bidden the captain good-night,

sat down between one of the small
boats and the railing, and watched the
cloudless heavens, the distant shore, and
the long swell of the sea, illuminated
by a broad path-way of light. I could see
the vigilant captain pacing the deck
some distance from me; and the sailors
of this watch I had seen some minutes
before about the forward ladder. The
sound of subdued voices suddenly arrested
my attention. I listened, and heard two
voices from the other side of the boat
talkings hurriedly in French. My heart
almost stopped its motion as these words
came to my ears:

“TI might shoot him from here.”

“Nay, you fool; the report would rouse
them below, and they might come up
quick enough to give us trouble.”

“But they're not armed.”

“Half of them have pistols, and that
American with the big beard (myself)
has one of those toys of the fiends—what
do you call it?—six pistols in. one. He
carries it with him, too. Look out for
him.”

“Well, but——"

“Listen! Go you back and serve out the
brandy to the men; don't spare it. I'll
go forward and guard the head of the
stairs. Presently the captain—may the
fiend seize him for those handcuffs he
clapped on_ me Tuesday—will see me and
come to order me forward. Then——”

“But the helm?”

“Don’t you see he’s lashed it? The
course is a straight one all night. He
comes to order me forward, and I'll knife
him. Right through his heart, Jacques—
ha! Then I yell, for a signal. You hurry
forward with the fellows, and we have
the deck, As fast as the milords come

 

 

up, we seize them and throw them astern.
Ha! but that will be fine!”

“And the women and children?”

“Oh, they’ll fare as it happens. Send
them adrift in the boat, or chuck them
over, too. But there’s Gomez and the
mulatto; they are impatient. Go then,
quickly, and fire them with the brandy,
and be ready to rush aft at my signal.”

Crouching close to Giesiioat the boat to
avoid diseovery, I heard the sound of
stealthy feet departing. Perhaps two
minutes elapsed, and then the figure of
the little Frenchman, whom the consul
had suspected of being the spy of a secret
order, stole aft to the stair-way with a
stealthy step.

My heart gave a great bound, for I
knew the work that I must now do.
Thank Heaven, I was prepared! I drew
my revolver from my pocket, cocked it,
and bent my eye on the Frenchman. He
stood leaning carelessly on the baluster
that inclosed the head of the stair, but
he was really watching the captain in-
tently. His back was turned to me, so
that I remained undiscovered.

The captain turned about in his walk,
and saw him standing there.

“Who’s that?” he sharply demanded,
approaching him.

The man made no answer.

“Pierre,” said the captain, walking
rapidly toward him, and recognizing him,
“what's wanted?”

The man placed his hand behind him,
and from the back of his jacket he half-
drew down a long, slender knife —only
half-drew it, for a bullet from my pistol
struck him in the neck, and he fell dead
down the stairs.

The captain started back at the report,
and his own revolver was instantly in
his hand. With a spring I was at his
side.

“Mutiny?” he whispered, comprehend-
ing the situation at once.

“Yes,” [ replied, “and here they come!”

“Steady !” said the brave fellow. “Don’t
miss aman, We'll fire by turns. There!
take that!”

A swarm of figures now came rushing
aft, headed by the mulatto, towering
head and shoulders above the others, and
brandishing a huge knife. At the cap-
tain’s first shot he threw up his arms and
fell at full length over the rail, where his
great body hung quivering an instant,
and then fell with a loud splash into the
sea, I fired again, and broke the arm of
another of the ruffians, who ran forward,
howling with pain. The rest stonped,
dismayed at the unexpected and bloody
reception.

“Let ’em have it now, both together!”
Cryder shouted.

We each fired twice more, the shots
killing three more outright, and wound-
ing another, when the mutineers beat a
hasty retreat forward.

“Throw down your knives!” the captain
cried, following them up sharply, and
covering the nearest one with his pistol.
I kept close at his side, taking gvod aim
at another. “Throw down your knives
and beg for mercy, or we'll kill every one
of ‘you !””

And they did it. They had seen enough
in the last five minutes to satisfy them
that we would do just as we threatened,
and the five who were left unhurt fell
on their knees, threw away their knives,
and begged for their lives in a babel of
different tongues. Cryder had three shots
left and I had two, so that the fellows
were really at our mercy.

By this time our friends came pouring
up from below, half-dressed, but most of
them armed. The captain gave them a
few directions, and part of them went
after ropes and shackles, while he and I,
with the others who were armed, kept
the mutineers covered by our pistols. In
a few moments they were all securely
roped and ironed, including the two
wounded men. One of the latter died be-
fore daylight, so that just one-half of the
scoundrels were destroyed in their at-
tempt to take the yacht.

With the help of three of us who knew
something of navigation. the captain ran
into Lisbon before noon, where our pris
oners were handed over to the authorities.
We had the satisfaction of seeing them
chained together and breaking stone be-
fore we put to sea again.

One of them confessed that the conspiracy
was matured before we left Havre, and
that their object was to engage in smug-
gling in the Mediterranean.

The plot was well conceived, and at-
tempted by desperate men; and but for
the accident of my presence under the boat
when the execution of it began, there can
be no donbt that we should all have been
murdered and the vessel seized,

Captain Cryder was never weary of

raising my coolness and nerve, although

e was certainly entitled to equal praise;
and so our fellow-voyagers thought, for
after presenting me with a service of
plate, they made up a purse of a thou-
sand dollars for him.

We remained at Lisbon long enough to
secure a reliable crew; and the voyage
that followed, though filled with inci-

 

dents, had nothing of the character of
this adventure.

A VERY NARROW ESCAPE.

5 ees

BY M. T. H.

 

NZ cacy - ‘
N a very dark and misty night in
€2 January, 18—, my business com-
pelled me to cross that bleak ridge
“A of mountain which divides the
Rhondda from the Ogmore Valleys, in
South Wales.

Starting from Nant-y-moel in the Og-
more Valley about 8.30 P. M., I thought
I could folluw the path without difficulty,
as I was fairly acquainted with the local-
ity; but asthe ground was covered in
many places with a thin coating of snow,
I soon discovered that I had made a mis-
take. However, I persevered, and at length
found myself on the summit; but ata
total loss to know how to direct my
course.

There I stood, isolated from the world,
without anything whatsoever to act as
my guide. After my wearisome climb I
felt very tired; but, determined to make
the best of the situation, I sat down in
the shelter of a stone fence to consider.
In a short time I heard the puffing and
snorting of a stationary steam-engine,
but had not the slightest idea from which
side of the mountain the sound came. I
found afterward that it came from a col-
liery on the Ogmore side. I made up my
mind to draw toward this sound. Very
cautiously I proceeded, feeling the ground
foot by foot; for one can never be too
careful in such a situation, especially
when inthe vicinity of mining opera-
tions, where an abandoned shaft or other
such death-traps might be approached
without a sign of warning.

At length I saw the glare of the fires of
that engine on the mountain side, down
which I was then descending. Soon the
lights of the town of Nant-y-moel be-
came visible, and hope once more filled
my breast; but as hope returned, caution
left me. Before arriving at the bottom,
the light I have mentioned became ob-
scured by some intervening object, and
the ground in front was buried in very
deep shadows; but no thought of danger
entered my head. Just at that mo-
ment my right foot went out to find no
hold, and the next mcment my whole
body was balancing forward. At that
critical instant I managed to give a back-
ward jerk and fall on my back; and as
the ground was very steep and slippery,
the left foot lost its hold, too, and slipped.

This fairly startled me, but. I had then
no conception of the terrible danger I had
just been in, and the awful death I had
escaped by a hair’s breacth, as it were;
for, after drawing up the whole of my
body on terra firma, I peered down the
gloomy abyss, and discovered that the
per of space in which my feet had just
yeen dangling, was over the edgeof a
large stone quarry full a hundred feet
deep, the side of which was as perpen-
dicular as a brick wall.

How I escaped falling over I cannot
tell; for, judging by the surrounding con-
ditions, escape seemed an impossibility,
and death looked certain.

 

—- > -o->-
RIDING AN ALLIGATOR.

 

Tampa, Florida, boasts of a colored
citizen, who has no more fear of an alli-
gator than he has of ‘the harmless lizard,
and will attempt to ride one any day for
a small sum of money.

His method of riding the reptile is to
enter a lake or pond where the species
congregate, select a large one, jump on

| its back quickly, and, pressing his thumbs

on its eyes, urge it shoreward.

He has often mounted old bulls in the
lakes of Hernando County anda ridden
them ashore without any trouble by
simply pressing his thumbs on their eyes,
and urging them forward with his heels
or shouts.

He found it far easier to mount than
dismount, for as soon as his sanrian steed
touched the shore it tried to seize his leg
by bringing its head and tail suddenly
together, and rolling over and over like a
barrel going down hill. This is the ordi-
nary method employed by alligators for
capturing their prey or enemies, and, as
its efficacy depends on the prompt con-
junction of jaws and tail. the stroke may
be readily avoided by a little “figuring.”

All he had to do when jn want of an
aquatic mustang was toenter a half-dried
pond, pick out the largest and laziest
saurian he saw there, mount it promptly,
and turn its head landward. The mounted
animal, according to his statement, makes
no fuss ahout moving wherever it is di-
rected while in the water, but the moment
it tonches land it uses every effort to
throw and devour its jockey.

It is possible to ride an alligator some
distance over land by tying its muzzle,
as it does not attempt to do any injury
until it can throw itsopen mouth an
long tail together by a sudden sweep to
one side,

         
  
   
  
  
 
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
    
   
  
 
  
 
 
 
   
    
 
 
   
 
   
 
 
  
 
    
  
 
    
  
  
   
   
 
  
    
 
  
   
   
  
  
  
   
 
  
    
  
   
   
  
  
   
  
 
 
  
 
   
   
 
  
 
   
   
   
  
   
   
 
   
 
    
    
  
  
   
    
  
  
  
  
  
   
 
    
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
    
   
 
  
  
  
  
    
  
 
   
  

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GOOD

  

NEWS.

1797

 

{THIS STORY WILL NOT BE PUBLISHED IN BOOK-FORM.]

Messenger No. 48;

BY JAMES OTIS,

Author of “Down the Slope,” “Teddy's Venture,” “In the Bad Lands,” “The Golden Cross,” “Through the
Inland Passage.” “The Treasure Seekers,” “Chased Through Norway,” etc.

(“MESSENGER NO, 48” was commenced in No. 105,

 

CHAPTER XVII.
AN OLD FRIEND.

O Jet the idea of loitering around

1 o first one town and then another
A. with no definite plan, unless the

simple hope of meeting the man by
accident could be called one, was in the
highest degree unsatisfactory.

He had embarked on the enterprise,
however, and it was now too late for re-
grets.

In due time the train arrived, and,
stepping on board, he was surprised at
hearing a familiar voice ask:

“Hello, Jet! Have you concluded to
join us again?”

lt was his old friend the manager of
the minstrel company, who appeared to
take it for granted Jet had boarded this
particular train for no other purpose than
that of going into the show business
again.

“Where are you playing?” the boy
asked without answering the question,

“Nowhere to-night, or I shouldn’t be
here. We've been having mighty hard
luck, and had to lay off to reorganize——
At least, that’s the best wav of putting
it. The company is about twenty miles
down the road, and we shall play that
town to-morrow,”

While the manager was sneaking, Jet
thought to himself that he could attend
to his particular business as well, if not
better, by traveling with the show a few
days than in any other way, and he
asked:

“Do you want a good dancer?”

“If you mean yourself, I'll say yes
mighty quick. Will you come?” |

“There is no reason why I shouldn’t
for a while, providing you won't make
any objection if I should leave very sud
denly.”

“Shy, my boy, what are you up to in
this section of the country, eh?” 3

“Nothing in particular, or perhaps it
would be best to say, nothing that I can
explain.”

“Then I won’t ask any questions. How
much do you want a night to do two
turns, and help us out in any other way
that may come up?”

“If you’ll pay my traveling expenses
and hotel bills, [’ll go on for one night,
and, perhaps, a week; but when it comes
to leaving this section of the country I
shall have to stay behind.”

“I'll accept the offer, and reckon we
can keep you with us a good while, if
you are so stuck on this part of the State,
for we intend to remain within a circle
of fifty miles for acouple of weeks. Busi-
ness has been so bad that we can’t afford
to make many long jumps, and there are
plenty of little towns where I hope to
pull out money enough to set us on our
feet.”

This plan exactly suited Jet, and he
believed he had been very fortunate in
thus meeting the manager. f

When the conductor came for the tick-
ets, Jet’s friend paid his fare to the town
where the conspany had been waiting for
funds ever since the day the young dan-
cer felt forced to leave them. | :

It was avery cordial greeting which
he received from the members of the show
party that night, and many times was he
forced to give an evasive answer in reply
to their searching questions, lest his
secret should be discovered,

During the evening he wrote to Harvey,
telling him how he proposed to travel,
and concluded by saying:

“You see, by this means I can stay around
here a long while without spending any of your
money, aud it seems as if there is less chance
of being suspected by friends of Bob’s whom I
wight meet without knowing them.”

Daring the following day he helped dis-
tribute programmes, put the hall to
rights, and otherwise made himself so
useful that all looked upon him as a de-
cided acquisition to the company.

On this night he dia his regular turn,
and instead of trying to prevent himself
from looking at the audience, stared at
each person every time he came on the
stage, hoping he might get a glimpse of

30b, ; Z

Tt was doubtful, he admitted to him-
selt, whether he would recognize the two
who had played the part of Albany offi-

cers, for he saw them only at night and

Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.]

 

 

in the feeble rays of light cast by the sta-
tion lamps. :

As to Bob, he was confident of knowing
him under almost any disguise that might |
be assumed.

However, this night’s appearance be-
fore the public brought him no other re-
sult than that of establishing himself yet
more firmly in the minds of his compan-
ions as a good dancer, and he had no rea-
son to be discouraged since that which
must necessarily be a long task had but
just begun,

According to promise, he wrote a short
letter to Harvey, and on the following
morning received a reply to his first.

Among other things, the detective
wrote:

“T am glad you had an opportunity to join the
company, forit is the best way you conld prose-
cute the search. It would do no harm to go
even farther from the house in the woods than |
you propose doing, since Bob will most likely
give that place a wide berth for some time to
come. Do not get discouraged, and use as much

 

money as may be necessary for your comfort.

It was finally decided two of the com-
pany should ride, in order to transport
the baggage, and that the remainder
would take to the road as soon as sunrise
next morning.

The manager, knowing that Jet had
some money, because of his offer to pay
his own railroad fare, borrowed five dol-
lars of him, with the promise that it
should be repaid with the first money
taken at the door on the next evening,
and the amateur detective went to bed
feeling that, perhaps, he could travel
around the country more cheaply than by
working for a manager who borrowed his
funds.

All hands were called at an early hour
on the following morning, and Jet set
out immediately after breakfast with
those who were to travel on “Shank’s|
mare.”

It was unfortunate that some of these
involuntary pedestrians, while not hay-
ing enough to pay their railroad fare,
managed to scrape together sufficient to
buy a large bottle of whisky, and when a
trifle more than half the distance had been
traversed, several were under the infiu-
ence of the fiery liquor.

Jet had many invitations to drink; but
he stoutly refused even to taste of the
stuff, and walked on ahead with the
other temperate members of the company.

The dissipated portion of the party
danced and sang to the amusement or
disgust of the inhabitants whose houses

 

 

they passed, and the town was in sight
when a loud shout from the rear caused
Jet and his companions to look back.
Half a dozen of the men had scaled a|
fence, and were industriously engaged |
filling their pockets with fruit, paying no!
attention to the damage done the trees as |
they broke branches, or threw heavy

 

 

 

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Veta tint BH
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hen
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Se

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JET EDGED ALONG AS NEAR THE CONSTABLE AS HE COULD, AND WAS FORTUNATE
ENOUGH TO OVERHEAR THE CONVERSATION BETWEEN THE MEN.

My wound is improving rapidly under proper
treatment, and [am told that in two weeks |
shall be able to walk with the aid of a cane.”

It is true this was not a very important
communication; but it was highly satis-
factory to Jet, since it showed that the
detective approved of bis course.

The second performance after the “re-
organization” of the company, was given
in a small town of about twelve hundred
population, and the receipts at the door
were not enough to pay the hotel bill and
traveling expenses to the next town, there-
fore on that same evening the manager
called the performers to his room for con-
sultation.

“We shall take big money in the next
place, providing we can get there early
enough in the morning to make a parade;
but i am broke again, and want your
advice.”

No one spoke for some time, and Jet
asked:

“How far is it?”

“Only six miles.”

“T will walk, or pay my own expenses,
either one you choose,”

“Now, that’s what I call coming to the
front in great shape. Who's willing to
walk?”

It was some time before he could per-
suade the other members of the company
to agree. They had received no wages for
several weeks, and it seemed particu-
larly hard to ask them to work for noth-
ing, and, in addition, tramp from town
to town,

 

“

clubs upto bring down the apples or
pears.

“Say, this won’t do!” Jet shouted, as
he ran toward them. “You stand a good
chance to be arrested, and then how shall
we get out of town?”

“Walk, as we had to this time,” some
one replied with a laugh, and the thefts
went on with redoubled eagerness.

Jet tried to persuade the fellows to de-
sist; but deaf ears were turned to all his
entreaties, and he was leaning over the
fence when two women and a boy came
out to drive the intruders away.

The drunken men paid no attention
either to threats or entreaties, but con-
tinued at the work until a sufficient
amount of fruit had been obtained, when
they continued the journey.

Immediately after arriving in town,
Jet had plenty to doin the way of dis-
tributing programmes, and finished the
task only to take his place in the street
parade.

The drunkards had sobered off, in a
measure, by this time, and managed to
march through the village without reel-
ing; but the fumes of liquor were quickly
driven from their brains on returning to
the hotel, when one after another was ar-
rested for trespass and theft preferred by
the owner of the orchard, who brought
the two women and boy into town as wit-
nesses.

Jet was not made a prisoner when the
majority of the party were marched to
the squire’s office, nor did he anticipate

 

any trouble, for he had done nothing

more than try unsuccessfully to prevent
the mischief.

Therefore he followed those under ar-
rest to learn what disposition would be
made of the case, and as he entered the

|closely-packed room was surprised at

hearing one of the women say, in a voice
loud enough to be understood by all:
“There’s another of ’em—that boy. i
seen him standin’ there all the time.”
“But I was only trying to make the
others stop,” Jet said, quickly, as if the
remark had been addressed to him.
“Don’t you believe him, squire,-he was
doin’ that to poke fun at me, an’ jest
egged the others on.”
To Jet’s surprise the magistrate in-
cluded him in the list of prisoners, and

|he had the questionable satisfaction of

hearing all three of the witnesses swear
that he was aiding and abetting the
thieves.

Jet tried hard to defend himself; but
the squire had evidently made up his
mind in advance as to what the sentence
should be, for without aliowing the pris-
oners to make more than a shadow of de-
fense, he said, sternly:

“Tt’s time you show people got to learn
that you can’t travel ’round the country
cuttin’ up shines an’ then tryin’ to ex-
cuse yourselves by sayin’ you was under
the influence of licker. This court don’t
recognize any sich pleadin’, an’ sentences
every one of the crowd to pay ten dollars
an’ costs.”

“Do you mean that each man must pay
that fine?” the manager asked, in dismay.

“That’s what I said, an’ if there’s any
row kicked up I'll double it.”

Jet was literally stunned, and could
make no reply, It is true he had sufficient
money with which to settle his fine; but
he did not feel that he was entitled to do

|such a thing, and, besides, the injustice

of the verdict was so great as to over-
shadow everything else.

Extra constables were sent for to con-
vey the prisoners to the village lock-up
until. such time as they should pay the
money, and when one of these officials
entered the room, Jet’s anger and sur-
prise was changed to bewilderment.

The man who advanced to carry him
to jail was none other than a member of
that party of alleged tramps who had at-
tempted to rob him on the railroad track,
and, consequently, a pal of the murder-
ers.

The fellow was unquestionably at the
house in the woods when-Harvey and his
men were besieged, and had since then
returned to this town, where, of course,
he lived.

The question in Jet’s mind now was as
to whether Bob and the others had ac-
companied this one?

“Being arrested may turn out to bea
mighty good thing, after all,” he said to
himself, “and I wouldn’t be surprised if
I held off a long while before paying my
fine.’

CHAPTER XVIII,
JAIL LIFE,

fw

 
   

"HE manager of the minstrel com-
ue pany was, and quite naturally, in a
~\ high state of excitement when his
people were marched off to the
lock-up.

If he was not able to raise sufficient
money to pay for the railroad tickets, it
was useless to think he could satisfy the
claim which alleged justice had against
the men.

To remain there even for twenty-four
hours without giving a performance
would result in utter bankruptcy, and in
case he was willing to desert the com-
pany he did not have money enough to
get out of the town, except by leaving
the baggage behind and walking.

An hour after the now saddened min-
strels had been lodged behind the bars
the manager called upon them.

“T’ve been trying to chin that old fool
of asquire into letting you off for this
evening so’s we can give a show; but he
won't listen to anything of the kind,” the
visitor announced in a disconsolate tone.

“If you could rope off the yard and put
up some seats we might perform behind
the bars. Advertise that the gentlemen
composing the greatest aggregation of
minstrel talent in the known world will
attempt the difficult feat of playing them-
selves out of jail.”

This suggestion was made by the
“funny” man of the party; but the dis-
tressed manager failed to see in it any-
thing witty or cee

“Can’t some of you fellow
plan?” he asked. : .

“Announce that we are to lay off a
short time in order to—to— well] anything
you can think of.” a

“That is no plan at all; it would look
rather fishy to reorganize twice in one
week.”

“Say that we are studying our parts
for a realistic drama, entitled’ ‘Would
you put Yourself in their Places.’ ”

“Now, see here, boys, this isn’t a thing
to joke about. We must give a show to-

  

    
    
   
  
  
    
     
   
    
   
    
   
   
        
    
   
    
   
    
  
  
    
    
  
    
 
   
 
  
  
  
 
 
 
  
   
   
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
   
     
   
   
    
 
   
     
   
  
   
  
   
  
 
  
   
 
  
  
 
  
       
      
    
CREST oprige cant penton greta tig) Kel

RESET LSE POPS REE

$4: ee RS

 

 

1798

night, and the question is how can it be
done?” the manager asked, in atone of
despair.

This was what no one could answer.

It surely seemed as if the squire had
been prompted by an unkind fate to lay
the heavy hand of the law upon this par-
ticular branch of the minstrel business,
in order to deter others from traveling
in the samme path, and to‘ prevent this
company from inflicting stale jokes upon
the public.

Finding that the chief performers could
not suggest a way out of the difficulty,
the manager took Jet as far aside as the
size of the cell would permit.

“How much money have you got?” he
asked, in a whisper.

“None that belongs to me. The five
dollars I loaned you was put in my hands
for an especial purpose, and I really had
no right to dispose of it as I did.”

“But if you’ve got enough to pay these
fines, I’11 promise faithfully that ‘you
shall have every cent we take in until the
full amount is paid back. There isn’t any
risk, my boy, for we shall certainly doa
big business here.” 3

Although Jet had had but little experi-
ence in this line, he knew that the re-
ceipts at the door, even if the small hall
should be filled, would not amount to
enough to settle the bills, and from it
must necessarily be taken sufficient to
carry the party to the next town.

“T haven’t got half as muchas you

need, and if I had it would be wrong to

use it.”

“Then you intend to pay-your own fine,
and give us the slip, eh?”

“TI should have a perfect right to do so,
because I took no part in the stealing of
the fruit; but I shall stay with the rest.”

During the next ten minutes the man-
ager pleaded in vain with the boy, and
then recognizing the uselessness of his
arguments, left the building in a pet,

Meanwhile **#he members of the com-

- pany did not look upon the imprisonment

as such a very great hardship.

“Say, who has to pay our board while
we are here?” one of the party asked the
jailer.

“T reckon it’11 come on the town.”

“Then so long as it costs us nothing,
what’s the use of repining?” and the man
started a song in which he was joined by
his companions, until the dilapidated

building fairly shook with the alleged

melody. :
As a matter of course this had the ef-
fect of drawing the idle ones to the jail

doors, and the applause from the outside

induced a continuance of the free concert.

All those who could show any right to
enter the building crowded in, and among
them was the constable whom Jet had

_ recognized.

While his companions were amusing
the visitors and themselves, he edged

along as near this particular man as he

could without exposing himself too freely,
and during the pauses between the songs,
he was fortunate enough to overhear the
following conversation between the fel-

~jJow in whom he was interested and a
brother constable: ©

oe been away quite a while, eh,

Jabe?”

“Only three weeks.”

“Where was you?”

“-Tendin’ to some private business.”
“TI thought when a man was elected

constable he’d got to stay ’round in case
he might be needed.”

“T didn’t ask for the office, an’ don’t
intend to loaf here when there’s a chance
of makin’ a dollar outside.”

“What have you been up to?”

“That's my own business.”

“Of course it is, Jabe; but I know
you’re makin’ money somehow, an’ it
seems as if you might give me a show.”
“Well, Ican’t. I had a good thing for

a while; but it’s busted now.”

If Jet had had any doubts as to the
identity of the man they would have been
dispelled by this last remark, and he lis-

tened eagerly for a continuation of the
conversation.

“Got company up to your house, ain’t

you?” the inquisitive party asked.

~ “How’d you know that?”
“Some of the folks said you brought

some friends back.”

- “Tt seems as if the fee in this town
had nothin’ better to do than watch their
neighbors.”

“Then it is true?”
_ “T’ve got an old friend visitin’ me for a
spell; but he’s sick now, an’ we don’t

want folks ’round to disturb him.”

“That must be Bob,” Jet said to him-
self. “Perhaps he was wounded, and has
-come here to stay till he gets better. Now,
how can I send word to Mr. Harvey?”

_ This was the one important thing to do
nview of what he had learned; but it
ould be necessary that none of the
wnspéeople should see the letter, and
he manager of the company was so angry
with him that it was a question if he
would attend to the matter.

He seated himself in one corner of the

‘room, where his face could not be seen

 

GooDp

plainly, and waited for this particular
constable to leave the building.

In about an hour the prisoners tired of
giving afree concert, and, finding they
were not likely to be amused any longer,
the visitors took their departure.

From one of his companions Jet begged
a few leaves out of a note-book, from an-
other he borrowed a pencil, and thus
equipped he sat down to detail what he
thought was important news.

“Sending for money to pay your fine,
Jet?” one of the party asked, jokingly,
and this caused the others to think of
what they might do.

“T reckon a good many of us had better
try the same game,” a second man said,
seriously. “The manager can’t get us out
of the hole, and we may as well begin to
hustle for ourselves.”

“Tt won’t cost much to do it,” Jet re-
plied, thinking that if a number of  let-
ters were sent from the jail his would
attract less attention.

Nearly all the party concluded to make
the attempt, and acall was made upon
the turnkey for envelopes.

Jet offered ten cents to pay for the
same, and in a short time the note-book
was stripped of its leaves as each prisoner
set about making a written appeal for
funds.

The question of postage was next raised,
and to this Jet was forced to respond, in
order that his missive should be sent
without delay.

By the time the letters had been made
ready, the member of the company who
came over on the cars with the manager
paid his companions a visit, and, quite
naturally, agreed to post the mail matter.

Now he was reasonably certain Harvey
would soon know the exact condition of
affairs, Jet felt very light-hearted. It
seemed almost positive he had stumbled
upon SBob’s hiding-place, and if such
should prove to be the case the second
man implicated in the murder must be
captured within a few days.

Shortly before mid-day the squire came
over to interview his prisoners.

It was possible he had been figuring the
cost to the town in case this party of
twelve should remain contentedly in jail,
and, perhaps, he was beginning to believe
the sentence too severe when taken in
the aggregate.

“Your manager has been tryin’ to talk
me into lettin’ you fellers out,” he be-
gan, assuming a friendly tone and air,
“JT told him that justice couldn’t be tam-
pered with, an’ have come ’round to see
what you’re goin’ to do ’bout payin’ the
fines.

“Squire, did you ever try to get blood
out of a stone?” one of the party asked.

“What has that got to do with it, eh?”

“Nothing, except that it would be as
easy to bleed arock as to get cash from
them who are flat broke.”

“But, bless my heart, you can’t stay here
forever, you know.”

“Tt depends on you. If the manager has
made any kind of a fair offer I advise
you to accept it, for it will cost some-
thing to feed this crowd, and I don’t sup-
pose you would care to take the respon-
sibility of starving us to death.”

The squire wiped the perspiration from
his face, although the room was by no
means warm.

“If you could pay somethin’ on account,
an’ give bonds for the rest——”

“IL don’t believe you could scare up a
dollar among the whole of us, and as for
bonds—who would sign them?”

“But you can’t expect me to let you go
free after robbing a man’s orchard, an’
bein’ sentenced in a reg’ lar court?”

“Certainly not, and for that reason we
have settled down to the belief that we
shall be your guests a very long while.”

“If I shauld let you out long enough to
give a show, would you come back here?”
the squire asked, after a long pause.

“Who would get the money taken at
the door?”

“It would go toward payin’ your fines.”

_“That’s a matter we shall have to dis-
cuss, for it isn’t a pleasant lookout to
give a performance for the benefit of your
court when we need money so badly our-
selves.”

“I'll come back in an hour an’ get your
answer,” the squire replied, with consid-
erable show of dignity, as he left the
building.

Jet was distressed at the thought that
it might be possible the fines would be
paid in ashort time, for then he could
make no excuse for loitering about the
town, and even if he should do so there
was every reason to believe the. constable
he was eager to have arrested would re-
cognize him.

(T0 BE CONTINUED.)
—_——_~+- e-- —____

Gipstrs have been a wandering race
ever since history first noticed them, At
one time they were supposed to have
come from Egypt, but new scholars have
ascertained that they were originally
an: Indian tribe or group of tribes, mak-
ing their first appearance in Asia Minor
early in the middle ages

 

NEW Ss.

RUNNING THE GUARD.

——¢——

BY ROGER STARBUCK,
pec oe
Cs
oy N. June, 18—, I shipped, with my
If chum, Hal Trevor, in the whaleship
Walrus, then anchored off Sydney,
Australia.

The captain was Richard Block, a
broad-shouldered, loud-voiced man, of
middle age. He wasanative of England,
who had come to America when a boy,
and followed whaling ever since. In spite
of his roughness, I believe the man had a
tender heart; certain it is that he treated
his men—so they informed me—rather as
if they were his brothers, than under his
authority.

Often i would notice about him a cer-
tain peculiarity, which puzzled me. It
was this, that whenever he paced the
quarter-deck, he would turn his eyes
wistfully toward the dark coast, as if
looking for something, or somebody, or
as if he had some, especial interest in
those rugged battlements of rock, that
rose, frowning, before him.

Soon came an explanation. The steward
informed me that the captain had a son
at Botany Bay—a criminal—convicted for
setting fire to the house of an enemy, at
Liverpool.

The skipper, it seemed, had married
when young, and this son, who had so
disgraced himself, had run away. from
home in his fifteenth year, and gone to
England.

The lad, to his father, had been dearer
than life, and the news of his sin, and
conviction, had to him proved a terrible
blow, from which he eats never recover.

It had killed his wife, who, being deli-
cate, and predisposed to consumption,
had not been able to withstand the shock.

One evening, soon after shipping, I was
stretched upon a chest in the forecastle,
reading Voltaire. My shipmates were all
on deck—some sleeping, some conversing,
and others washing their clothes, for
there was a bright full moon, enabling
the workers to see what they were about.

I had become deeply interested in my
book, when, suddenly, I became aware of
a shadow falling on the page, looking up,
I beheld a singular young man, whom I
had never seen before, and who had evi-
dently just cume out of the sea, as his
hair and garments were dripping.

He glided to my side, and clasping his
hands, exclaimed:

“Hide me! Hide me somewhere for
heaven’s sake! I have just escaped from
one of the ships in port, aboard which
I’ve been used hard~very.hard. See
there |”

As he spoke he held up his arm, when I
perceived that his wrist and hand were
covered with blood.

* oo shot!” he continued, hurried-
ly. “My captain fired at meas I sprang
overboard. I am afraid he’ll soon be
here! Hide me; do not go back on a
shipmate !” ' ‘

Instantly I sprang up, pointed to a hole
in the board partition of my bunk, and
motioned to him to crawl throughit. He
did so, when I pushed over the aperture
a loose board, which had become dis-
placed therefrom on the previous day.
The runaway now was in the forehold,
concealed, where I believed no living per-
son could find, him among a pile of whale-
bone. Presently I heard noises on deck,
and making my way out of the forecastle,
I beheld a party of rude-looking soldiers,
who had just come aboard from a boat.

The captain being called, confronted
them, when they informed him that they
were in search of Richard Blank, a crim-
inal who had escaped from confinement,
and, they had reason to believe, had
swam off to this vessel. They had seen
the outline of his head inthe water, when
they gained the beach, and had dis-
charged a pistol at him, but did not
think it hit him.

“So,” thought I, “the young man I
have concealed was a convict.”

“Jump into that boat alongside, Star-
buck,” said the captain, turning to me,

“and see if the fellow these men are after.

is there.” t

“Ay, ay, sir!” I promptly answered,
and instantly tumbled into the boat.

“Nobody here!” I shouted.

“Look sharp, Starbuck, look sharp!”
cried the skipper, and some of the soldiers
came to the rail to look also.

Meanwhile I had determined to keep
my own counsel; to say nothing of what
had happened in the forecastle. It was
wrong—in a legal sense—for me to do so,
but pity forthe man who had tried to ob-
tain his liberty was the key that locked
my tongue,

“Perhaps the fellow was hit after all,”
said one of the soldiers. “He may be a
dead fish by this time, floating at the
bottom of the bay.”

“We'd better search,” said the rest,
and procuring lanterns they immediate]
commenced rummaging the vessel’s hold.

Well ensconced among the slabs of
whalebone, the convict was not discov-

 

ered. The soldiers shook their heads,
lighted their pipes for a smoke, and went
away, now convinced that their shot had
struck the criminal and sent him to the
bottom,

Next morning anchors were lifted and
away we went, bowling out of the harbor
before a good breeze. We were running
along under topgallant sails and royals,
and were setting studding sails fore and
aft, when wecame upon a small sloop,
bound into Sydney, and having on board
a file of soldiers, some of the convict
guard, probably, as their uniform was
similar to that of those who boarded us.

We had not passed them, when to my
consternation who should come up but
the convict, whom I had concealed in the
forehold. He had made his way aft, and
now came up from the steerage and con-
fronted the captain.

The latter, staring at him a moment,
lifted his hands in astonishment, then
rushed toward him, exclaiming :

“My son! my son!”

I saw into matters at once. The young
man, when convicted, had taken a false
name; his father had only heard of. his
disgrace through a friend.

Now clasping the boy to his breast a
moment, he suddenly drew back.

“Alas!” he exclaimed, “you are he
whom the soldiers were after last night.”

“Wes, father.”

“You will be shot for desertion, then?”

“No, they think Iam drowned. I over-
heard your sailors talking about it in the
forecastle.”

“Ship aho-o-oy!” came a rough hail
from the sloop, “lie to at once?”

We all looked toward the sloop to be-
hold a sergeant perched upon the rail,
peering keenly at the young convict. ‘The
latter instantly stooped and ran into the
steerage. But it was too late. The keen-
eyed sergeant with whom, it afterward
was ascertained, the lad had frequently
conversed, recognized him at once,

The captain seemed to reflect a mo-
ment, then to decide not ‘to obey the
order from the-sloop. He was a father,
and the youth was his only son; the old
man acted natural enough for one as
rough and untutored as he. Instead,
then, of obeying the order, he just
“cracked on” all the canvas he could
carry, sending his craft booming along at
the rate of twelve knots.

The sergeant aboard the sloop evidently
was aresolute fellow, who would fight
long and hard before allowing his prey to
be carried off. He lowered a boat—a long
cutter, manned it with twenty stout fel-
lows, and pulled after the ship. The lat-
ter he knew must soon tack, in order to
weather a rocky point projecting far into
the bay ahead. So he kept his men pull-
ing, until he heard the cry aboard the
Walrus of “tacks and sheets!” and the
yards began to come round. He then
ordered his men to stop pulling and lay
quietiy waiting—his bowsman holding a
boat-hook ready for grappling—until the
ship should come near enough for him to
get alongside.

This soon took place; but the boat-hook
was chopped in twain by a blow from a
hatchet in the hand of my chum, Hal
Trevor, a reckless, daring young fellow,
always at home in peril of every descrip-.
tion.

The sergeant, with an oath, pulled a
pistol from his belt, took aim, and fired.
The bullet wistled close enough to Hal to
graze his neck, but he minded it no more
than if it had been a straw tickling him.
Boldly smoking his pipe, he watched the
boat as it receded astern.

Bang! went a musket from the cutter,
and the bullet passed through the leg of
my best white pants, grieving me exceed-
ingly, as they were the only good un-
nance pair I had in the world.

When we tacked again, the persevering
sergeant contrived to board us. He
searched the vessel thoroughly, but to my
inexpressible delight was unable to find
the convict.

“Come, you know where he is!” he said
to the captain, “and it will go hard with
you if you do not tell.”

The skipper denied any knowledge of
the convict’s whereabouts. As he spoke,
a little Portuguese sailor edged up to the
sergeant, and whispered in his ear, when
the officer running into the forehold and
searching among the slabs of bone dis-
covered the fugitive.

Just as the soldier was about pulling
him out, the young man sprang up and
dealt between his—the sergeant’s—eyes a
blow that knocked him flat upon his
back.

He then rushed on deck, and, spring-
ing overboard, went down, apparently
like a shot. z

A. boat was lowered, but the convict
could not be found. The sergeant returned
to the sloop, and the sad-hearted father,
bracing forward his yards, kept on his
way.

We were well out to sea, and T was at
the wheel, when, hearing an exclamation
from the captain, I looked up to behold.
the convict whom we had all thought

 
1g
se
is

—_— oe 2

 

GOOD NEWS.

L799

 

S.
Explanations ensued. The young man
On springing overboard, had swam under
Water to the stern, where, by means of a
angling rope, he had drawn_ himself
rough the cabin windows into the state-
room.
‘The convict, as afterward ascertained,
as not guilty of the crime imputed to
him; a pretended friend of his having set
Ye to the house and contrived matters
O that circumstances should be against
the captain’s son. The latter now is mar-
Tied, I believe, to an estimable young

;

lady, who makes him a good wife, and |

Who loves to hear him tell how he escaped
guard at Botany Bay.

—-_—- —- + -o-—> __ —_—_-

A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE.

BY DUKE CUYLER.

Set et plchiee

HARDLY feel like writing to-day.
My nerves are aJl unstrung, and my
hand trembles badly. But no one

the fearful adventure that befell me
nly yesterday.
am writing this in the cabin of a
€nch Canadian, and he and his numer-
‘Sus family are watching with some curi-
ity the movement of my pen. They can-
ot read what I write, but they know the
Ory that I am putting on paper,
hi ad it not been for the Frenchman
Jimself, I should not be here with pen

Pant note-book, seated before his blazing

But let me tetl the story of my yester-
“y's adventure at once, and without
ther prelude.
had the morning I left the hotel where I
80 been stopping for a day or two, to
; me to St. A——I. The landlord warned
Né that the road was bad, and that I
{ight look for some difficulty in getting
Tough; but this did not deter me from
etting out.
cy horse was a strong one and in good
ftion, and I felt that he ought to be
“qyindantiy able to
Ough,
veor the first few miles the road was
fry fair, but when I entered a long
Stretch of forest, through which I had to
of tr I found that haste could be no part
Of the programme there.
€ snow was deep, and trodden but
ay little, and what made it worse there
1.2% @sharp crust on it, which cut the
piss of my horse, so that at last he left
moody footprints behind at every step.
phere was

carry me safely

no other course but to let
take his own way and walk it out
©. hours dragged on. The
goods stretched out seemingly intermin-
4e before us, and at last the shadows
 Jight began to gather around.
, Since early in the afternoon i had seen
ut a Single habitation, and at this I
“pped and refreshed myself and horse
an hour.
Here | learned that I should do well

Sot tomy journey’s end by ten o’clock

4b night,

There would be no danger of losing
Way,” mine host said. “The road

whi Straight before me, and the moon,
y ich was nigh its full, would make
etyvthing about as light as day.”
4Ound that my informant’s words
me like to come true. Night had come
a’ Xd there was yet no sign of St.
a):
nély horse was so fatigued that it was
of to impossible for me to urge him out
4 slow walk.
she Nand on we plodded, while the moon
§ & flood of silver light around. |
sontidenly I was startled. A distant
‘th nd fel] upon my ears, sending a thrill
» Ugh me like that experienced when
1S confronted by some unexpected
hew in an instant what it meant,
wreck of wolves were upon my track.

Y horse, as though aware of the dan-

»,. ‘hat threatened us, pricked up his

‘than and started off at a brisker pace
‘0 he had indulged in for the last half
the day.

Sain the cry filled my ears, and to me
Med nearer than before. The volume
Seemed increased, as though the

thro came from double the number of
hats it had done at first. :

‘ ae was only two ways in which I

mud hope for safety. One was to keep

othe Orse before them if I could. The

the r'to abandon him and clamber into

he roy of one of the trees that overhung

This latter alternative I did not care to

as possible to avoid it. Leav-

rse to his fate would almost

lke abandoning a human being to

Ction. Until all hope was gone of

& him, I would not leave him.

vehim a sharp blow with my whip,

~ 4€ sprang onward, but it was only

for a short distance; for hardly twenty

he suddenly relapsed into a walk. I gave

only.
What was I to do?

ing upon my track, each moment lessen-
ing tube distance between us. There
|seemed no alternative but to take to the
| trees.

As with each
creased, my solicitude for my horse grew
less. I was ready to offer him up asa
sacrifice, if my own safety might thereby
be secured.

Again I glanced behind me.

The wolves were so close that I could |
see their gaunt, shadowy forms gliding |
amid the trees.

At this moment a turn in the road
brought us close to the edge of the river,
the course of which we had been follow-
ing for several hours,

The dark current flowed sluggishly be

 

|

may read this save myself, so I will | fore me, and as I gazed upon it, [ thought |
by my best to note down the incidents |} ; ;
| ;me and my enemies, if I were only upon |

what a barrier it would place between

the other side.

I knew that the wolves would not take |
to the chilling water of the icy river, even |
if they had to forego their anticipated
feast.

The look I cast across was a wishful
one, but Isaw no way of reaching this |
haven of safety.

The cries of the wolves sounded nearer |
and nearer, and I knew that only a few
moments must elapse before they would
be upon us.

There was not a moment’s time to be
lost.

Out toward the river there was a tree
that I judged was easy to climb, and I
decided that the sooner I was ensconced
among its branches the better.

I sprang from the back of my horse,
and gave him a blow with my whip.

Relieved of his burden, and frightened
anew by the cries of the wolves so near
at hand, he sprang forward at a quick
pace.

I felt almost angry with him as he dis-
appeared from view, notwithstanding the
hope I had that he might make good his
escape.

Another fierce yell filled my ears, and
with a bound I sprang through the snow
toward the tree,

I had reached its foot, and was about
to spring upward to its lowest branches,
when I cast an eye toward the river.
There I beheld an object that changed
my plans at once.

Quite a large cake of ice was floating
down the stream, close to the shore.
Once on that, was it not possible for me
to reach the opposite bank.

It was worth the trial, I thought. For
once there I should be safe.

A dead branch that had fallen from
the tree was lying in the snow at my
feet, and, picking this up, I sprang to-
ward the river’s edge.

One glance I gave behind meas I did

so.

The wolves had reached the spot where
[had left the road, and instead of keeping
on after the horse, the whole pack came
plunging through the snow toward me,

It was only a swift glance I gave them,
and then my eyes were turned once more
upon the river.

The cake of ice had floated down beside
the bank until it was opposite me.

Less than a half-dozen feet intervened
between me and it, and I prepared for the
spring.

The foremost wolf was. within a half-
dozen paces of me, Summoning all my
strength, [ sprang toward the shining,
slippery mass. My feet struck upon it,
but in an instant they flew out from
under me, and, in spite of all my efforts,
I shot forward and fell into the dark,
chilling current of theriver. Like astone
I went to the bottom with a sound like
thunder ringing in my ears.

I am a good swimmer, and the next in-
stant IL struck out with all my strength
and brought myself to the surface, Half-
blinded I struck out toward the ice-raft
upon which my salvation depended.

But I took only a few strokes before ny
efforts in that direction were suspended.

Upon it were two huge, gaunt wolves
glaring at me with their bloodshot eyes.

The cake of ice had not receded so far
from the shore but what they had been
able to spring upon it the moment after I
had done so,

But now it was slowly moving toward
the center of the stream, carrying them
with it, while their companions stood
howling and snapping their fierce jaws
upon the shore.

The raft was aiding my enemies rather
than me. There was but one more chance
left for me, and that was to try and reach
the opposite shore.

rods did he keep on in this way, and then |

him the whip again, but the result was |
much like what the other had been. He}
was utterly fatigued, and it seemed im- |
possible for him to maintain even a de- |
cent rate of speed for a few moments |

Close behind me the wolves were howl- |

moment my danger in- |
refused to perform their offices, and I felt

 

The icy waters were sending a chill to
my heart, and benumbing me so that it

 

was only with an effort that I could use
my limbs.

The stream was several rods in width,
and I was fearful that I should not
emerge from it alive.

the savage brutes upon the shore.

With all my strength I struck out for
the only haven of refuge there was left
to me.

But each moment I felt my strength

| going, and the fearful conviction seized
upon me yet stronger that it would not |
be many moments before the dark tide |
My limbs | :
|} lection of stamps in an international album, a
| flute and a bicycle to exchange for a 28-inch safety
| bicycle, “

would close above me forever,

myself sinking down to darkness and to
death.

At that instant a shout fell upon my
ears.
me new life and strength.

With a great effort I glanced toward |

the bank, and there I saw a human form
beckoning to me, while at he same time
he sought to encourage me with his voice,

But unaided I could

me, and once more I went down, down—
it seemed an almost endless ways.
Then all was a blank.

this.
ered my host told me how it was that I
came there.

the wolves, and knew from the sound
that they were in pursuit of something.
The river was between him and them,

| therefore he had no fear of them.

Taking his firearms, he had hastened

in the direction of the sound, and arrived | t’esrap! :
‘ : 2 ; watch or best offer.
upon the bank of the river just in time to |

see me making my last struggle for life.

The moment he saw me disappear, he |
sprang into the water, and at the risk of |
his own life brought me to the shore. It |
was with great difficulty that he got me}

to his cabin, where at last their efforts
brought me back to life. Mine was a ter-
rible struggle, and to my dying day I
shall not forget it.

My host thinks that my horse has es-
caped. I hope the poor brute has. If it
be so, I shall find him at St. A——l.

P.S.—St. A——l. Two days later. My
horse came here all right. He went
straight to the inn, where he was well
cared for by the hostler. They thought
that his rider had surely fallen a prey to
the wolves until I put in an appearance.

——_——___ + 0» —
WITHIN A SECOND OF DEATH.

About the end of the year 1877, or the}
I was employed as|

beginning of 1878,
slagger at the blast-furnaces. South
Stockton-on-Tees. It was my week on
the night shift. The keeper, who was
known as the young Bluff, had just fin-
ished molding on the pig-beds and gone
up to the furnace (No. 2) to see that
everything was working right. When he
got close up to the furnace, he looked
round at me, and shouted: “Come up
here, Bennett, quick; she is breaking
away.” The trough leading from the fur-
nace had been grouted and was still wet,

.and every iron-worker knows how dan-

gerous it is when the pig-iron in its
smelted state gets among water, or on
to a wet surface: it is equally as danger-
ous as mixing fire with powder. How-
ever, I started to run toward the furnace
w th a view of rendering the keeper any
assistance in my eh As I neared the
furnace, [I noticed the iron was rushing
out of a hole in her side, and was just
entering the trough; another moment and
there was a report resembling that of a
101-ton gun, and the air was filled with
fragments of smelted iron. I dashed to-
ward asmall brick cabin which stands
near the furnace. At the same instant
a large piece of flying metal partly struck
the corner of the cabin, the remainder
taking with itin its onward flight the
back, from waist to shoulders, out of a
blue flannel shirt that I wore, and slight-
ly scorching my back. If I haa been the
decimal part of a second later in turning
toward the cabin, all that would have
been found of me would have been a
charred piece of unrecognizable humanity.”

—~+>- 6»
A HINT TO PEDESTRIANS,

Now the holiday season is well under
way, pedestrian readers will be glad to
hear of an easy method of relieving tired
feet. Puta good handful of salt intoa
gallon of very hot water; plunge the feet
in, and bathe the legs as far up to the
knees as possible. When the water gets
cold, rub the-feet with a rough towel.
This method tused night and morning will
prove of great benefit to those on walk-
ing tours, and it has the advantage of
being obtainable everywhere.

. : | about thre
But death in the cold waters was far] je tly
better than to be torn to fragments by | 4

“ | explosives, dangerous or worthless articles. If exchange

 

not have reached |
| it had my soul’s salvation been at stake. |

The waters seemed falling from under |
| Change for vooks and li

 

EXCHANGE DEPARTMENT,

—-——__

(ImporTANY.—This column is free to all our readers’
We will not be responsible for transactions brought
sh notices in this column. All offers must

se Offers. We will not insert any
“ments, nor exchanges of fire-arms,

be strict]
“for sale

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.”]

_ -+
_ BICYCLE.—F. E. Lowell, Salula, Towa, has a 14-
inch snare-drum and a 30-inch safety bicycle to ex-
change for best offer.
STAMPS AND ALBUM.—A. Holscher, 828 Col-
umbia st., Newport, Ky., has boys’ papers, a col-

PRINTING OUTFIT.-—-Will C. Ahlmann. Jr.

{ , | Norfolk, Neb., has an Excelsior press, 18 fonts of job
It was a human voice, and it gave |

type, rules, leads, slugs, borders, cuts and tools to
exchange for a 12-0z. wall tent. Alsu cigarette cards
to exchange for stamps.

CIGARETTE PICTURES.—Arthur Probst, 268
Berry street, Brooklyn, has 2,000 cigarette pictures
to exchange for boys’ papers or best offer.

s STAM PS.—James W. Cook, Treiton, Mo., has 600
foreign and 12,500 U.S. stamps to exchange for a
Merritt typewriter.

30YS’ PAPERS.—Herbert Rogers, 47 Prospect
street, Gloucester, Mass., has boys’ papers to ex-
raries.

BOXING GLOVES.—E. M. Graves, 317 North
New Jersey st., Indanapolis, Ind., has a set of good

: | boxing gloves, a telegraph key and sounder, 2 sells
I knew no more until I found myself | 2 f
| beneath the roof where I am now writing |

When I was, in a measure, recoy- | change for a safety bicycle.

of battery, a printing press (chase 4x6), outs of
type in good condition, an old violin and box, a cam-
era, & Stamp album, anda magnifying glass to ex-

BOYS’ PAPERS.—J. Dembufsky. 508 South 5th

1 : ; | Street, Goshen, Ind., has boys’ papers to exchange
From his cabin he had heard the cry of |

for best offer.
CIGARETTE CARDS.—F. A. Ludwig, 3054 Hal-
sey Street, Brooklyn, N. Y., has cigarette cards to

; exchange for best offer of coins or Confederate
}; money.

TELEGRAPH OUTFIT AND AU'TOHARP.—
J.J. Mumford, 37 Waller street, Chicago, Ul., has a
telegraph outfit and autoharp to exchange for a

STA MPS.- F. L. Roach, 285 Belden ave., Chicago»
Ill., has foreign stamps to exchange tor U. S-
stumps.

BOYS’ PA PERS.—Walter Bland, 974 Boston ave.,
New York city. has boys’ papers and libraries to
exchange for other boys’ papers. All letters an-
swered.

STAMPS.—Burrell Sipes, Forest, Hardin Co., O
las foreign stamps to exchange for best offer.

READING MATTER.—W. A. Wheeler, South
Norwalk, Com., care Jas. H. Flynn, has reading
matter to exchange for a bell banjo.

TYPEWRITER.—Lorenz Anssprung, 44 North
Fourth st., Philadelphia, Pa., has a typewriter to
exchange for a xylophone o1 concertina,

ROD AND REEL.—Frank G. 'Taylor, East Poult-
ney, Vt., has a bamboo rod and brass reel, 3 steel
traps, & compass, @ magnet, a base-ball belt, 18 rev-
enue stamps, 50 cigarette cards, 165 tobacco tags,
875 post-marks, 2,000 postage stamps, and 10 volumes
of weekly papers to exchange for a tent about 6 feet
square.

BICYCLE.—W. IL, Case, 338 Warren ave., Chi-
cago, Ill., has a 42-inch bicycle to exchange for a
tent.

BOOKS.—Abe Beaver, 30 Amsterdam ave., New
York city, has 20 bound books, 500 cigarette pictures,
and 300 stamps to exchange for best offer.

BOOKS.--C. L. Darcy, 737 College st., Los Angeles,
Cal., has about 50 boys’ papers, a couple of EB. P.

toe’s works, and a bound-book history of the re-
bellion, to exchange for best offer. Send stamp for
answer.

STAMPS.—Beecher Ogden, Box 2297, New York
city, has a collection of good stamps in an album
to exchange for stamp papers.

BOYS’ PAPERS.—Harry Sperling, 138 Eldridge
street, New York city, has books and novels to ex-
change for a boy’s safety bicycle.

BOILER AND ENGINE, EVC.—Fred L. Smith,
Amsterdam,N.Y., lias a boiler and engine,a gold and
silver plating battery, a magic lantern and slides
to exchange lor rare stamps.

BOOKS. PAPERS, ETC.—A. B. Waldron, Fish-
kill, N. Y., has books, papers, magazines, cigarette
albums, stamps and novels to exchange for av auto-
harp and novels. .

STAMPS.—Wm. A. Beatty, 36 Queen st., St. Cath-
arines, Ont., has foreign stamps to exchange for
United States postage stamps.

READING MATTER.—Edgar Pilie, Jr., 83 Or-
leans street, New Orleans, La., has reading matter
to exchange for best offer of U. 8S. stamps.

PRINTING OUTFIT.—Jno. Z. Voris, 217 South
Water street, Northumberland, Pa., has reading
matter, an Eagle printing outfit, and 6 fountain
pens toexchange for best offer of libraries.

WEEKLY PAPERS.—Charles 0’ Rourke, 17 Bur-
nett street, Newark, N. J., has weekly papers to
exchange for foreign stamps. a

ELECTRICAL GOODS.—C, Feste, Crystal City,

| Mo., has electrical goods, books, novels. and stamps

to exchange for asafety bicycle or typewriter.

BOXING-GLOVES.—D. J. McCaffrey, 303 East
Ninth street, New York city, N. Y., has a set of
boxing-gloves, and 200 cigarette pictures to ex-
change for best offer.

STAMPS.—L. Brodstone, Box 116, Superior, Neb.,
has stamps, entire postal cards and stamped envel-
opes to exchange for ones not in his collection.
Many things to exchange for stamps.

BOYS’ PAPERS.—J. Piper, 392 State st., Brook-
lyn, N. Y., has boys’ papers to exchange for best
offer.

_——

CLUB NOTICES.

The GOOD NEwWs Story Paper Club, of Lamar, Mo.
wants more members in every town of the United
States. Send stamps for full particulars. All let-
ters answered. Representatives wanted. Address:
Felix Barth, Lamar, Barton Co., Missouri,

The Crescent Reading Club wants more members.
Admission fee 15 cents. Monthly dues 10 cents.
Address, with two-cent stamp, to A. E. Croft, Box
1033, Le Mars, Iowa.

WANTED.—Members for the U.S.C. Address
B. G. McFall, U.S.C. No.1, Eldred, Pa. Be sure
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A puzzle club has just been organized. Do you
want to join? The initiation fee is five cents,
and the yearly dues are only ten cents. 3% Ww.
eaeee, Jr., secretary, 416 Fifteenth st., Moline,

~

 

 

 

 

 
    
  
  
 
 
 
     
  
     
  
    
 
  
  
   
  
 
 
  
  
 
 
   
   
   
   
   
     
      
   
   
 
 
   
    
   
 
  
 
 
 
  
   
 
  
 
 
 
   
     
 
  
    
  
  

ISSUED WEEKLY.
NEW YORK, JULY 2, 1892.

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Advertising rates, 50 cents per agate line.

 

Contents of this Number,

—-— e-

SERIAL STORIES.

“Yankee Dick’s Risk,” by Randolph Hill.

“The Rival Camps,” by William P. Chip-
man,

“Stealing a Steamer,” by Walter Morris.

‘The Gold Thieves,” by Capt. L. C. Carle-
ton.

‘Messenger No. 48 ; or The Boy Detective,”
by James Otis.

“The Gipsy Plotters,” by Capt. Castleton.

SHORT STORIES.

“Hand to Hand,” by Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

“The Mutiny,” by Charles Daly Douglas,

“Running the Guard,’ by Roger Star-
buck,

“A Struggle for Life,” by Duke Cuyler.

“Young Adam,” by Lieut. R. H. Jayne.

“The Victoria Cross,” by Sterry Egerton.

“A ‘Tussle With a Wildcat,” by M. Sil-
he

“A Very Narrow Escape,” by M. T. H.

REGULAR DEPARTMENTS.

‘Short Talks With the Boys” on Trades,
Professions, and Business Pursuits,
by Arthur Sewall.

“Exchange Departinent.”

**Ticklets,” by Chas. W. Foster.

‘Mail Bag.”

*“‘Puzzle Corner.”

‘Short Stops.”

Miscellaneous Jtems, ete.
—_—_—__—+- ee ____

NEXT WEEK! NEXT WEEK!

oy

 

We will begin a story of exciting adven-

tures on land and sea, entitled

THE SEALED BOX;

OR,
The Trail Through India.

—__o——_

By ARCHIE VAN.

oe

Number One Hundred and Fourteen is
the issue in which this interesting story will
commence, next week,

 

——_—+-e-¢____—_

OLUME TWO of Goop News will be
V sent to any address, postpaid, on re-
ceipt of eighty-five cents This volume
contains the index of volumes one and two.

 

 

  

GOooDp

YOUNG ABAM.

Cieaodscaeaninis

  

By Lieutenant R. H. Jayne.

os
(ests ‘
URING my last furlough, I decided
fs) to spend a few days at West
C Point, where I was sure of meet-

ing some of my old classmates
among the throng that gather there to
witness the graduating exercises’ It was
the second visit I had made since leaving
the academy, and I had looked forward
to it with the feelings of a man returning
to areunion of friends from whom he
has been separated for years.

I was not disappointed. Everything
proved asI expected. I grasped hands
with a half-dozen officers who had come
from remote sections of the Union—one
from his post in Oregon—for the same pur-
pose. Nothing could have been more de-
lightful than the long evenings spent on
the porch of the hotel, recalling reminis-
cences of cadet days, exchanging experi-
ences and tracing the career of those
with whom we had been intimate when
at the Point.

There was the inevitable tinge of sad-
ness coloring the retrospect, for more
than one fine fellow had ceased to answer
at “roll-call.” Hilton, from whom we all
expected so much, for he was a born sol-
dier, and graduated well up in his class,
had been killed by the accidental dis-
charge of a gun; Stafford was stricken
with a mortal ailment while on his wed-
ding tour; Rhett had resigned, gone into

 

MY WEAPON WAS

business, and was now trying to get back
into the army, and Westcott, oneof the
most brilliant young cavalrymen in the
service, had been riddled by a volley from
Geroniimo’s treacherous followers while
leading a scout over the flaming plains of
Arizona.

So it went, but all these impressive
turns in the wheel of human fortune are
incidents of military life, and it may be
said they are discounted in advance.

It was atreat tochat with grim old
General Sherman and other warriors who
helped to make history before we were
born; to stroll along the winding and
beautiful Flirtation Walk, to watch the
different exhibitions in the riding acad-
emy, at gun practice, at parade, and the
final thrilling charge cross the plain,
when the fiery horses of the shouting
cadets were barely restrained from dash-
ing over the porch of the hotel.

n the second day of ny arrival. a
young man registered at the latter, under
the name of “Adam Brown, Carlisle,
Penn.” Although he was dressed with
excellent taste, and was ajperfect gentle-
man in demeanor, a glance was enough
to show that he was a full-blooded In-
dian. I made his acquaintance and was
charmed by his information and manner.
He told me he had graduated at the Car-
lisle School for his race the preceding
spring, and hoped to be able to enter
Yale College in the autumn. He be-
longed to the Sioux tribe in South Dakota,
and intended to return to them at the

close of the exercises at the Point, there
to remain until his future was definitely
determined,

“Although I have hope of obtaining a

NEWS.

 

 

a Sa a EN eS
NA ATT ear LR Co NE

Sane Saas et ert:

college education,” he said, as we set one
night with our cigars, “I am_ not sure it
would be right for me to spend four years
away from bome.”

“Why not?” | inquired.

“Ah!” he replied, with a sigh; “there
is so much for me todo among my own
people. Although a number of young men
have been educated in the schools of the
whites, there is the old wild, restless
spirit among the majority, ready to break
forth in violence when the provocation
comes, There is such mismanagement
of Indian affairs that I shudder when I
think of the future.”

I commended his worthy purpose, but
expressed the hope that there was less
ground for misgiving than he thought.

“I wish I could agree with you, but I
cannot,” be remarked, with another sigh.
“T trust I shall be able to do something
to allay the dissatisfaction, especially as
I have others to help. ‘There are signs
even now of coming trouble. Sitting Bull
is discontented, and will be until he
brings on another great war which must
be the final conflict between the Caucasian
and American races. The work of myself
and friends is to persuade our people to
accept civilization; that must be the end,
but who sball say when it will come?”

The more I saw of Adam Brown the
more I liked him. During our brief stay
at the Point we became warm friends,
and when we parted, the hope was ex-
pressed on both sides that we would soon
meet and spend many more hours in each
other’s society.

It was some six months after my part-
ing with this young Sioux that I was the
bearer of dispatches to General Miles at

~
UP AT THE SAME MOMENT,

Pine Ridge Agency. No one needs to be
reminded of what had occurred in the in-
terval on our frontier. Sitting Bull had
been killed, the frightful conflict at
Wounded Knee had taken place, and it
looked as if a great battle was inevitable,
with the certainty of dreadful losses on
both sides.

A ride of twenty miles was still before
me when the sun passed the meridian,
and my pony stretched his neck in the
direction of the Agency with that regular
swinging gallop which was sure to carry
him and me to our destination long be-
fore the setting of the sun, proyided no
obstacle intervened.

I was in the country of the hostiles,
and, having been already fired at twice
during the course of the day, was alert
to the danger which threatened every
mile of the way. Only by unceasing viz-
ilance, a careful avoidance of places fa-
vorable to an ambuscade, an intelligent
reading of “signs,” liable to appear at
any moment, could I hope to place the
important dispatches in the hands of the
commanding general,

I was well mounted, as I have inti-
mated, with a couple of revolvers and a
Winchester fully loaded, and Iam safe
in saying that my steed appreciated the
situation as well asI, More than once
he swerved tothe left or right, of his
own accord, to avoid some wooded or
rocky elevation where a band of hostiles
might be waiting for me to come within
rifle-shot, The flicking of his ears, the
snort, the quick raising of his fine head,
as he gave a look of human intelligence
toward such a spot as I have named, con-

  

Stocbecse

 

 

SSR oar bs epson i ie

*

escaped my eye, despite my alertness, :

It was bitterly cold. Nosnow was Oe
the ground, but there had been a slight
flurry earlier in the day, and the sky was)
covered with a hazy vapor which indy
cated the coming of a storm, and, peteg)
haps, a_ blizzard, before the passing ObWy
twenty-four hours. %

I was well muffled, but though accus*)
tomed to the Arctic-like weather of thew
Northwest, I suffered keenly. There was yy
no help for it, however, and I kept my> t
pony down to his work, envying him theg
warm glow caused by his own exertions | :

The afternoon was about half-gone, an@y
I was nearing the Agency, when I oby i
served asmall hill in my path. It was
not more than a hundred feet high, an@ Wy
on the crest was a mass of rocks. 4

“The very place for a party of hostile
to wait for a white man to come with
reach, and the place, therefore, to bé
avoided,” I said, as I touched the rein, 7

But the pony was as quick to see it a)
I, and had already diverged to the lefty
The distance was thus increased, and#
reflected as I thundered past that I way
still nigh enough to tempt a shot from
any marksman that might be lingeriBB
there, mS

The thought had hardly come into mJy”
mind when I heard a dull report, and they”
pingeing of a_ bullet within a few inch@@
of my head told me that good ground &
isted for my fears. Looking toward tH
rocks, I made out a thin wreath of bluish =
vapor which showed where the fellow”

  
 

1?

:
ei
He
4°

 

foo lr ae 4 bi

~ eat

 

  

was hiding that had used me as a targe@y)
He himself was not in sight, and I coy
tinued on my galloPyy
without attempting >
relpy to his shot. ;
ut I had gone onlf

a few hundred yards |
farther when, lookil®y
back, I saw an India@iy™
warrior dashing dig
gonally down the slop&
his pony on a dead TU)
and heading toward m&
It was he who had fireé :
his gun a moment Py”
fore, and, failing 2
bring me from #8
saddle, meant to ove
take and finish me. a
It may not be brave
to run from an India :
who you well know ~|
no better armed thea |

7

:
‘a

 

 

   
  
   
    
  
 
    
   
  
  
  
  

yourself; but I cou
not forget the impo
ance of my _ respou®
bility, while it “a
not unlikely that otht
hostiles were in sigh ’
So I spoke sharply ie |
my horse, touched De ee
flank with my spur, #
sent him bounding
ward at increased spere
It was prudent ro di@y
away from the red mab
and leave our score ™ J)
settled. ae
But the followiDe pe
half-mile made knOWge
an unpleasant fact.
pursuer was
mounted than I, pare
as a consequence, C0 1
not be shaken off. Is
asmuch as a collision was certain, 1@
cluded it wise to save, so far as able i
strength of my steed. So I tightened : fe)
uh

     
   
 
    
   
   
    
  
  
    
   
   
 
    
  
   
 
    
  
   
  

reiu and drew him down to a gait .wB
he could maintain for hours witb?
great fatigue.

Meanwhile I kept the best wate a
could on my enemy. Leaning forwar
the saddle [ held him under survey, #5
when I observed him making ready 47
fire, I wkeeled the pony short rou
brought him to a halt and faced
warrior. He, too, checked his own 8
mal with surprising quickness, and tht
we stood with our horses nose to nose #
less than two hundred yards betwee? be |

The Sioux, for he belonged to that ri ait
had nerve. Without hesitation, and Wye f
no thought of sheltering himself; 94)
brought his Winchester to a level Lait a
took deliberate aim at me. abt

I was not idle. My weapon went UP is
the same moment, and the two repo og :
were simultaneous, How well he ayy”
was proven by a sting along my left ©),
which told where the bullet had grat
it. Fortune, however, was with me; and
before the warrior could fire a seed
time, he tottered sideways and rolled ©
his horse to the ground. n

His frightened animal dashed off Oi

allop and circled around at a dista™
ooking back at the prostrate figure, “3p
he did not understand what it all me%
Sechig that my foe was disposed 9ogy
turned to continue my flight, but sto P By a

Ss
=~

  

 
  
  

a moment later. pad
The hill from which the Sioux i108 i
emerged was so far away that not [F

\

 

(Continued on page 1806.)

 
  
   

vinced me that he observed things thabl r

  

   
  
a en ne

ved things thab
ny alertness,

o snow was On
id been a slight
and the sky was
por which indi
storm, and, per
the passing 0

t though accus
weather of the
sniy. There was
, and I kept my
nvying him the
,own exertions
it half-gone, all
cy, when I OB
1y path. It was
| feet high, and
f rocks.

party of hostiles
to come withil
herefore, to bé
ched the rein,
lick to see it
rged to the left
increased, and
last that I was
pt a shot from
rht be lingeriDs

y come into my
| report, and the
1in a few inca
rood ground e*
ing tow ard the
wreath of bluls
here the fellow

 

| me as a targel
ight, and ] coh}
on my gallopy
attempting 4
» his shot.
[ had gone only
hundred yardé
when, lookillé
saw an Indial
dashing di®
down the slop&
yon a dead rue
ding toward m&
he who had fireeg
1 a moment D&4
nd, failing 0
me from on
meant to ave}
d finish me.
ry not be prave
rom an Indialh
u well know?
er armed thar
PS pues coul
yet the impor
' my respoust
while it ve
likely that oth®
were in sie"
yoke sharply 74
touched bi
ith my spur, #4}
n bounding fe
increased spe
prudent ro axa
om the red Hey
ve our score 4

cei emenemnee

‘se,

the followili
le made kno
easant fact. Me
was betl

1 than I, an
nsequence, cour
shaken off. Ip"
3 certain, 10
far as able, ta
I tightened “
to a gait .W

hanes withol!

» best wateb J i
ning forwar
ler survey, #
aking ready

y short roun
and faced * a
dhis own fag
sness, and thy
nose to nose 4
rds betwee,

ed to that tri
ation, and Why
iz himself, nd
to a level ® |

nds |
0

. f
upon went UP ts
he two rep?
well he ally
ig my left che’
llet had grad ;
is with me, ad \
fire a seco.
3 and rolled

A
1
dashed off Od
at a dist® if
‘ate figure, of
at it all mea”y
; disposed oad
ht, but stop

¢ a
the Sioux Mig
r that now 2
a

ye 1806.)

 

GooDnp NEWS.

1801

 

(THIS STORY WILL NOT BE PUBLISHED IN BOOK-FORM.)

STEALING A STEAMER:

OR;

The L.0g of the Brig Terror.

By WALTER MORRIS,

Author of ‘‘ Joe, The Call Boy,” “ Kirk Sheldon's Mine,” *‘ Slaves of the Circus,” “Bob Porter
at Lakeview Academy,” Ete.

“STEALING A STEAMER” was commenced in No. 109,

CHAPTER IX.
THE SENTINEL.

GR ROBABLY Bart had not believed
if “ ‘om would carry out his threat; |

KY but instantly the rifle was dis- |
ney charged the rowers stopped as sud- |

lenly as if the bullet had penetrated the
0dies of all.

“Here, what do you mean by sich
“apers?” Bart asked, angrily, after ashort
(Jause,

“Exactly what I said. You cannot
“Ome on board this craft again, and the
14ext time I shall shoot to kill.”

“But we’ve got to have grub an’
Water,”

“Then go somewhere else after
it, for you'll take nothing ovt of A
this steamer.” =:

In the excitement and fear
Attendant upon the wreck,
those who had stolen the

Sea Gull thought of nothing
Save leaving the stranded
Yacht, and, as a conse-
quence, all the weapons
Were left behind, therefore
fom held a decided advan-

“Re:

No one understood this
etter than did Bart, now
is feats had subsided in a

Measure, and he decided

that it was the best policy

to conciliate the fellow who

lad the upper hands of
them, if it was possible.
“Look here, ‘l'om,” he

b€gan, in a friendly tone.

Well?”

“What's the use of turn-
In’ rusty? We’re wrecked,
With precious little chance
Mf gettin’ away, an’ it
Btrikes me we oughter be
Lriends,”

“I don’t see
Yellows played a mighty
Une trick on me, and the
result is that the steamer is
Wshore. Now, you attend
110 your own affairs, and

ll see to what’s left.”

“But we haven’t got
UNything to eat, Tom.”

“Then strike out for
“Ome other cay. If, as I
*eckon, we've struck the
‘lorida reef, you won’t
Mave togofar. Key West
isn’t sucha long distance
away but that it could,be
Yeached before either of
YOur crowd would have
Ime to starve to death.”
_ Again there wasa halt
M the negotiations, dur-
ng which time Tom fan-
Cled he could hear the boys
Conferring together in
Whispers, and then Bart said:

 

it. 5. You

 

 

“See here, if you’ll give us
Brub and water enough to last a
fOuple of days we'll leave, an’ you

May save the yacht if you can.”

This was a proposition not to be de-
5pised, alone as ‘om was, for the time
ust come when sleep would overpower
im, and the thieves could easily regain
Possession of the steamer.
et
til] morning, I’ll do what you want,” he
Cried,

“And you
trick?” *

“ How can I? The yacht is hard and fast
“ground, and I couldn’t sail her away,
10wever much I would like to do so.”

, Why not let us come aboard now ?”

Simply because you shan’t put foot on
her decks again while I have the power
to keep you at a distance.”

Lhis concluded the parley.

After a brief time of hesitation the boys
TOWed toward the shore once more, and
the Sentinel was left alone.

Satisfied that they could not board the
Craft without his knowledge
S10n, Tom set about learning more in re-
8ard to the condition of affairs.

First
Stern,

here he found seven fathoms of water.

he dropped a lead-line

3ack numbers can be obtained ofall News Agents.)

cut which nearly divided the little island
in two equal portions,

The yacht had stranded on the north- |

eastern point, and to starboard was a
clear channel, not less than fifty yards in
width.

During the darkness Bart and his

friends had rowed entirely across this, |
when by launching the starboard tender |
they could have reached land by poling |

her a dozen yards,

The most surprising portion of the
wreck was the fact that the yacht had |

come safely by the southern point, which |

served toshelter her from the force of the
sea, and had run her nose ashore in such

a manner that nothing short of a very|

heavy gale would do any serious damage.
“If those fellows can be gotten rid of,

aft, she was fast on the reef, with less|I’ll save the craft,” he said to himself,
than half the depth necessary to float her. |

Under these circumstances
until astorm arose, and Tom began
have hopes she might finally be saved.

“Other fellows have done, single handed,
bigger jobs than this, and why shouldn’t
I be able to pull her off in time?” he said
to himself,

there was |

| little danger she would “break her back” |
to |

after surveying the situation, “and they
shall have all the provisions needed, pro-
viding the cruwd will make for

other cay.”

As far as the eye could reach were to
be seen smaller cays running toward the
south and west, and a hundred men
might have found a place in which to live

 

 

 

 

THE MOMENT TOM HAD DESCENDED, THREE FORMS ROSE ABOVE THE
**HURRY UP,

AND BOARDED THE YACHT.

 
  
    
 
   
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 

 

RAIL,

SAID THE LEADER

‘‘AND WE’LL HAVE HIM FOUL!”

Then came the question of how much

| damage the hull had sustained.

you'll go back to the cay and wait |

won't try to play us any |
| be as

| and

He tried the pumps, but brought up no
more water than should have been found
in her under favorable conditions.

She had not strained herself, and should
sound as ever once the bow was
clear.

|
}

without one encroaching upon the terri-
tory of another.

The remainder of the yacht’s crew must
have found a comfortable resting-place,
for not until fully an hour had passed
aft r sunrise did either of them put in an

appearance,

“Tt’s what I call a mighty lucky wreck, |

if those fellows could be depended

j}upon, I’d have her afloat in forty-eight

and perm is- |

over the |

| with

resumed his seat
be possible

hours,” he said, as he
near the bow, where it would

to hear the first approach of those whom |

he. had every reason to look upon as ene-
mies,

The investigations had taken consider-
able time, and in less than an hour after
going forward the sun arose in a cloud-
less sky.

Now it. was possible to see clearly that
spot of terra firma which ‘held the Sea
Gull a helpless prisoner.

It was a small cay, rising hardly more

(ing he broke out of the stores such an |
amount as he believed the others would |
|need, and when Bart appeared on the

The tender could be seen pulled up on
the opposite side of the channel, and Tom
understood that it would be safe for him
to be below five minutes at a time, since
they could not put out and reach the

! steamer in a less period,

Therefore he went in the kitchen, and
made preparations for breakfast. While
the bacon was frying and the coffee boil-

| beach everything was ready for the trans-
| fer of provisions.

 

Not un‘il half an hour later did the|
boys row to the yacht they had so fool-

than four feet above the level of the sea, | ishly abandoned, and in the meantime Tom

a thick growth of mangrove trees

midships, and for four feet farther'on the southerly portion, and a gulf or

|

had refreshed himself with a hot meal.

The scalds upon his body ached severely ;

some |

| the chain
| Save concerning bis own ability to accom-
|plish that gigantic task which he had
iset himself,

| but in view of the plan he had conceived
| they were as nothing.

The pain now seemed so trifling that

he gaveit only so much heed as one might
|} a vexing but incurable toothache, :

The three boys pulled toward the yacht,
| stopping about twenty feet from her side,
as tney noted the rifle Tom held ready
for immediate use.

“Well, are you goin’ to keep your part
| of the bargain?” Bart asked.

“Yes, if you agree to my terms.”
“What are they?”

| “That you leave this cay as soon as the
stuff is puton board. There can be no
| danger in rowing south so long as this
weather lasts, and ina few days at the
most Key West should be reached.”

| “S’posin’ we don’t agree to that?”

“If you promise now, only to go back on
| it, and thus get the provisions, I swear
| 1*1l shoot every one of you on sight. You

stole the yacht, and I have taken posses-
| sion of her, as you yourself suggested, in
|thename of Captain Shandley. I may

not know much about law; but I’m cer-
tain I’1l be upheld in protecting the prop-
erty. Even if you had really owned the
craft, and then abandoned her, I could
claim my salvage by law, and shall hold
| the steamer at all hazards.”

“How much provisions will you give
ns?”

“Enough to last a week at all events.”
“When shall we take them on
board ?”

“Whenever you please.”
“Then you won’t shoot if
we come now?”

“So long as you stay in
the boat while I pass the
stuff down it'll be all
right; but the minute one
of your crowd attempts to
come over the rail I'l) fire.”

Bart knew that it would
not be wise to give way to
the anger which took pos-
session of him at finding
j the tables so completely
turned, and he remained
silent, although the deep
flush on his face told how
great was the check he felt
forced to put upon his pas-
sions.

He directed that the
boat should be rowed to
the side of the stranded

yacht, and Tom stood by
the rail with a drawn
revolver as he made ready
to lower the provisions
selected.

That the engineer was

 

ready to resist at all
hazards any attempt to
gain possession of the
steamer could readily be
seen, and those who had

stolen her did not think it
wise to make a move to-
ward disobeying the rules
laid down.

In half an hour every-
thing was on board; the
little craft lay deep in the
water, too much so for
safety in case the wind
should spring up, and Tom
said, as he sat on the rail with the
weap7n in his hand:

“| didn’t think I’d sent over so much;
but if the weather holds as it is now, you
won’t bein any danger. Since there’s
nothing more to wait for, the sooner you
leave the better I’ll be pleased.”

Bart directed his companions to back
the boat off a short distance, and then
asked, angrily:

“I'd like to know who gives you the
right to boss things in this way?”

“The fact that I’m doing what is law-
ful settles the matter. You are nothing
but thieves and liars, otherwise we’d be
in New York now instead ot piled up on
this sand pile. Now go, and don't make
the mistake of coming back here again.”

“You haven’t lost sight of us, and don’t
forget it,” Bart replied, as he shook his
fist in impotent rage. “But remember
that when we do come back, it will be to
serve you out in proper shape.”

“Your threats don’t frighten me; all I
want is to see the last of your crowd,”
and Tom raised his revolver as an inti-
mation that it was time the interview
should be brought to a speedy close.

Bart said something in a low tone to
his companions, who were at the oars,
and the boat was pulled slowly down the
channel toward the open sea.

Tom stood by the rail watching his late
captors until they disappeared around
| the point, and then he said, as he placed
| the weapon on the roof of the after-cabin:

“TI reckon they’ll think twice before
| coming back here, and now the question
|of how this craft can be floated must be
| settled.”

Satisfied that those who had stolen the
Sea Gull were really on their way down
of cays, Tom had no anxiety,

 

   

 

 
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&
EI
4
é
4
4
%
3
&
a
*

 

 

 

18023

GOoop

NEWS.

 

To float the yacht unaided seemed at
first glance a labor which it would be im-
possible to perform; but a careful survey
of the surroundings convinced him that
it might be done provided the weather
held good, and he was not interrupted.

Unquestionably the first task was the
setting of the anchors astern to prevent
her driving farther up on the reef, and
in order to do this very much preliminary
work must be accomplished.

Tom would not be able to raise the
lightest anchor on the yacht alone, and a
series of tackles were to be rigged before
the first could be lifted.

By swinging the boom of the foremast
toward the bow, and rigging to it a
double-block, he could begin the labor
with some assurance of success.

Then came the question of how it might
be carried the proper distance astern.

There was no boat belonging to the
yacht large enough to bear up the heavy
weights of iron, and a raft must first be
built.

Providing he carried the yacht herself
into port, Tom reckoned that any damage
to her belongings counted as nothing, and
he set about taking off the hatches to
make such a craft as was needed.

This was slow work, and more than
once before the day came to an end was
he forced to attend to the severe burns
upon his body, for the heat of the sun
affected them to an almost unbearable
extent.

CHAPTER X.
AN ATTACK.

fe HEN the shades of night ap-
\A(‘%, proached, shrouding cay and
sea in gloom, he speculated as

«e to how he could insure himself
against a possible attack.

Although the boys had rowe@ away as
if intending to seek some inhabited place,
there was nothing to prove they might
not return under cover of darkness, and
Tom knew only too well that it would be
impossible for him to work without sleep.

How to guard himself and at the same
time get the necessary amount of rest
was something which he spent a long
time trying to solve, and the night had
fully come, when he said, with a sigh:

“There’s no use puzzling itout. I shall
have to take the chances, and if those fel-
lows succeed in getting the better-of me,
I can’t help myself; but there’ll be a big
fight before I give up beaten.”

He either nailed or locked all the doors,
save one leading to the interior of the
yacht, and this exception was the com-
panion-way to the after-cabin.

From it he could reach each portion of
the craft without exposing himself, and
he brought into the saloon every weapon
to be found on board.

Making his bed on one of the lockers,
he placed the arms on the floor directly in
front of the impromptu couch, and then
barred the door on the inside.

“While the yacht is aground they can’t
run away with her, and before that part
can get in here they’ll have to make suc
a noise that I must be awakened however
soundly I may sleep.”

It was not probable he would be very
far overcome by slumber while his wounds

ave somuch pain, and he laid down
eeling as secure as any fellow in his posi-
tion has any right to assume.

Tired though Tom was, be did not sleep
soundly. At least twice every hour he
awakened, and when the morning came
he felt almost as weary as when he
stretched himself at full length with the
idea of resting. .

The general position of affairs remained
unchanged. :

The white sand of the reef lay shim-
mering and glaring under the sun; the
green trees nodded to and fro as if con-
gratulating themselves on being the only
occupants of the cay, and nowhere could
be seen any signs of human beings.

“T reckon I was more frightened than
hurt,” Tom said, as he stretched himself
and yawned immediately after coming on
deck, “If those fellows haven’t come
back by this time there’s precious little

chance they'll show up again, and it’s

good riddance to tnem.

He had no time to indulge in fancies.
There was so much work to be done that
a month would hardly suffice, and he be-
gan the tasks of the day by preparing
‘breakfast.

Fried bacon, potatoes, and coffee made
ef such a meal as any fellow would ‘feel
himself fortunate to have for the cooking,
and when it was finished he set about
taking up the work which had been in-
terrupted by the setting of the sun.

_ The raft was soon completed, and on it
he lowered the heaviest anchor by aid of
the block and tackle. ~ ’

To paddle the unwieldy craft a sufficient
distance, and at the same time drag the
hawser behind, was a hard task; but by
dint of perseverance it was finally accom-
plished, and the heavy weight ‘dropped
a hundred yards astern of the yacht in

deep water.

 

Now the cable was to be made fast to
the winch, and the slack taken in.

This occupied his time until noon, when
he had the satisfaction of knowing that
whatever might happen the steamer could
not drive farther up on the reef.

he afternoon was spent taking out a
second anchor, and this was done more
quickly because he had the hawser of the
first to pull the raft along by.

It was quite early when the first day’s
work came to an end.

There was yet an hour of daylight; but
Tom thought it best to spend it in get-
ting supper, and when this meal was
ended he sat by the rail looking at the
evidences of his toil.

“She’s made fast well astern,” he said,
aloud, in atone of deepest satisfaction,
“and by the time I get one more out
there’ll be a chance to put on a big strain.
The screw ought to send her back a féw
feet, and then, by taking in the slack, she
must make some kind of a move.”

Thus far he had every reason to believe
his labors would be crowned with suc-
cess, and he locked himself in the cabin,
feeling that a great deal had been ac-
complished toward releasing the Sea Gull
from her sandy fetters.

Another morning dawned, and Tom
made ready to resume his wearisome
labor.

As usual he scanned the sea in every
direction .before doing the necessary
amount of cooking, and as before nothing
to cause alarm met his anxious gaze.

It was as if he had suddenly been trans-
ported to a new world, so far as seeing
others of his kind was concerned.

The hours of this day were spent in
planting the last anchor, taking up the
slack of the others, and getting ready to
make the second move in the scheme of
floating the stranded yacht.

He had no expectation that she would
slide off the reef immediately steam was
Spee but he hoped to move her so far
that there would be little danger of her
beating herself to pieces in case a storm
should arise.

Thus far the weather had been most
propitious, and Tom looked upon this fact
as a good omen.

“At this time of the year we’re bound
to have some storms,” he said, aloud, as
if speaking to a companion, “and I’m in
luck to have had such weather when I
most needed it. Give me three more days
and I’ll show deep water under her keel;
but what’s to be done then beats me, for
I can’t sail the steamer home alone.”

He was allowing himself a short time
of idleness. Seated on the top of the
after-cabin he gazed out over the low-
lying cay, and decided that on the mor-
row, while waiting for the tide to aid
him in the work, he would gu on shore.

While resolving upon this, he quite
naturally looked along the beach on every
side, and a dark thread against the blue
of the ocean, eae under the man-
grove trees, attracted his attention.

At first he was disposed to give little
heed to it; but as the speck grew better
defined he leaped to his feet in a fever of
excitement, as he cried:

“It’s a boat! Those fellows are coming
back, or else they’ve told somebody that
I’m here alone. There’ll be trouble to-
night if I don’t mind my eye.”

{le “minded his eye” by bringing a rifle
and arevolver from the cabin, after which
he waited and watched for the first sign
of danger.

The time passed until night came, and
yet nothing more was to be seen.

He began to believe he had been mis-
taken, and was on the point of going be-
low to:sleep when the sound of oars came
to his listening ears,

Now there could be no error, and he
went forward, where it would be possible
to have a better view of the entire yacht.

At times he believed he heard the sound
of voices; but nothing more than a faint
hum could be distinguished, and he per-
suaded himself it was only a fancy.

“Tt isn’t likely Bart would be fool
enough to try to come on board while he
has no weapons, and Iam so well armed,”
he said to himself, and at that instant it
seemed as if the yacht quivered from bow
to stern.

During fully a minute Tom sat silent
and motionless, and then came _ the
thought of what that sudden movement
of a stranded yacht might mean,

Swiftly he ran aft.

One of the hawsers which had been so
taut before, now lay slack on the deck.

Tom pulled it in; the end had been cut,
and he cried in a rage as he looked in
vain into the darkness:

“O, you cowards, how I wish I had all
three within reach of my fist for five min-
utes, Curs, to try to spoil what I’ve
worked so hard to accomplish.”

The knowledge that half a day’s labor
had thus been wasted caused his anger to
rise beyond bounds, and, almost uncon-
scious of his actions, he discharged the
rifle in the direction of where the anchor
had been planted. i

The flash of the powder lighted up the

 

waters for a short distance, but failed to
reveal the enemy.

‘Tom cote atned eas the stern listening
for the slightest sound which should in-
dicate the whereabout of those who had
done the mischief,

The silence was so profound as to be
painful, and he started toward the cabin-
door thinking it weuld be best to light
the lanterns.

“T should have done it before sunset,”
he said to himself, and at the moment he
descended the steps a form rose above the
rail at the bow.

“It’s all right; he has gone below,” the
visitor whispered. “Hurry up an’ we’ll
have him foul,”

It was Bart who spoke, and Tom had
hardly gotten into the cabin when Seth
and Rast followed him.

“Jump right on him at the first chance,”
the leader continued. “If we get so near
that he can’t fire, the rest will be easy.
Follow me, and creep mighty quiet, for
he mustn’t suspect anything till we’re at
close quarters.”

(tO BE CONTINUED.)
a

THE GIPSY PLOTTERS ;

OR,

The Owner of No Man’s Land

By CAPT. CASTLETON.

Nira tec
(“Tur Gipsy PLorrERs” was commenced in No, 102
Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents. ]

CHAPTER XXXIII.
A THEATRICAL DENOUEMENT.

las S the reader already understands,
% the quest for Ned Arthur was un-
availing.
All of the following day they
ae up the search.

‘The only thing they found was the boat
which the gipsy had concealed in the
bushes after rescuing the drowning boy.

They were unable to account for its
presence there, but Ben being pretty cer-
tain that it was one he had seen while
watching the construction of the raft,
they had some hope that Ned had, after
all, escaped death and been carried off a
prisoner by Black ae

Several things tended to promote this
belief.

Besides the fact that the body could
not be found, it was discovered that
Magoun had disappeared from the neigh-
borhood.

He would not have done this, Ben rea-
soned, eager as he undoubtedly was to
poneens the boy, unless he knew him to
ye living.

The morning after the disaster they es-
pied a boat pert the river in which
was seated Hugo Raime and Pierce
Amick,

They tried to avoid our friends, but
were overhauled.

They were horrified to learn of the oc-
currence of the precediee night.

Both stoutly denied that they had been
acting with Magoun until Jean told what
he had overheard, when they both broke
down and admitted everything. °

They stated that the gipsy had sent
them to secure Ned and bring him to the
windfall, he having devised a very in-
genious scheme for accomplishing it.

Finding the camp gone, they had _ has-
tened to return and report the matter.

Wilson had put in an appearance, and
Henry had sent them to escort him across
the woods, he being uncertain of the way
in the gathering twilight.

Upon their return, instead of finding
him there, as he had promised to be, bot
himself and the boat were missing.

They had walked many miles up the
river to secure anuther boat, and were
just descending when they had been
sighted by our friends.

They stated that this was all they
knew, and Ben was satisfied they told
the truth.

He lectured them sharply for their evil
deeds, and finally permitted them to row
back up the river.

What course to adopt was now a serious
question.

After along consultation, the follow-
ing programme was agreed upon:

Dil] and Ash were to take the raft to
Raymond and market the hoop-poles,
under orders from them.

Ben himself was to endeavor to locate
Wilson—the ae being that by keeping
track of him he might be traced to our
hero, if he was, indeed, alive,

Jean was to work for the same end in
a different way. He was, if possible, to
find Magoun, and by dogging his steps,
locate the missing boy.

If they both failed, they were to meet
on acertain day at the grand encamp-
ment of the gipsies, to be held near the
town of Corinth, and where Jean thought
Magoun might come,

 

With this understanding they separ

ated.

We will not follow them in their re
spective searches.

Suftice it to say that neither was suc
cessful in his quest, and on the day pre
ceding the date of their meeting, eac
started for the common destination.

Jean Cameo arrived at Corinth the da
preceding without adventure of impor
tance.

When Ben Ratcliffe changed cars at
junction about thirty miles from Corinth, ~
the first person he noticed upon entering ~
the new train was the man he had been ©
so long seeking— William Wilson.

Without an instant’s hesitation he ad
vanced to where the scoundrel sat.

“Will you share your seat with me?” h
asked, politely. :

“Certainly,” responded the other, re
moving a small hand-bag to make roo
beside him,

Ratcliffe was well dressed now, and his |
best friend would hardly have recognize
in him the rough backwoodsman of a fe
weeks before.

He would not have recognized Wilson
in the timber except from knowing his”
name, and had no fears that the othe
would suspect his identity.

“Pleasant day,” said he, by way of a be
ginning.

“Yes, sir, very.”

“Going to Corinth?”

“No. Why do you ask?” :

“Oh, there’s big goings-on near there I
hear. I’m going there myself.” A

“What kind of goings-on?”

“A national encampment of the gipsie
is being held near here, They’ve got
regular queen, you know, crowned jus
as much as Victoria is. I guess it’ll b
worth looking at.”

“Do you know the queen’s name?”

“Yes—let me see, It’s something that
reminds one of ancient Rome. Oh, yes!
it’s Valentia.” ;

“What!” cried Wilson, almost bound
ing from his seat.

“That’s the name, Ever know her?”

“No. Oh, no!” ,

Then the man relapsed into silence.

Ben had determined not to leave hi
man, now that he had accidentally foun
him, and sat cogitating over a plan t
reach and advise Jean by telegraph, or.
otherwise, of the fact, when Wilso
touched him on the arm,

“T beg your pardon,” said he,

“What is it, sir?” queried Ben.

“Do you know this gipsy queen?”

“Oh, no! I never saw her.”

“Ts she old or young?”

“T don’t suppose she’
old, but I’ve been told that she is n
longer panes i

“That’s the rule with all the ladies.
Well, my curiosity is excited, and I be-
lieve I'll ask the conductor for a storm
over check, and take a look at the only
representative of royalty I’m ever likel
to see.”

“I’m glad of it, and I’ll wager you'll |
see stirring times there.”

Wilson made no reply, but Ben smiled
to himself as he thought that he woul
do the best he could to stir things u
there and make them interesting for th
gentleman. 4

When the train stopped at Corinth
Ben left Wilson, of whom he had no fear
of losing track, and hurried to the ap-—
pointed rendezvous. a

He found Jean already there, looking
exceedingly glum.

Not only had he been unable to find th
smallest clew as to the whereabouts 0
Magoun, but. none of his friends amon
the gipsies had heard anything of him
since our friends had last seen him.

“Which way?” asked Ben, after he had
told of his meeting with the much-sought:
for William Wilson.

“To the camp.”

“What to do?”

“To interview Queen Valentia.”

“You don’t mean it?”

“Surely Ido, I have an appointment
Come along!” :

In half an hour’ they were passing
through the camp. aa

It was very extensive, there being
horses and wagons, and tents and booths
almost without number. 4

At length they arrived at the tent i
which the royal receptions were held.

It was quite large, and divided in
two compartments.

Jean spoke a word to Pierre, wh
guarded the entrance, and they were @
once admitted to the outer apartment.

“I'll tell her you’re here,” said he
“She’s engaged just now, but will
you soon, I know, for she has twice ask
me about you since morning.”

After an absence of a moment Pierre
returned, and told the two to enter @
once.

“She says she divines your business,
whispered he, “and that you've come i
the very nick of time.” a

He pulled aside a mass of heavy drapery
as he spoke, and the two passed in.

To their surprise, they found Valenti

 
 

GOOD NEwsB. 1808

The Rival Camps;

  
  
    
  
  
 
 

aa

~~
y separ ©
—-

 

ng with none other than William} Magoun produced the envelope bearing

the name of William Wilson, which had

This invitation was extended with a

‘ _ heartiness the lads could not well r ‘
eit ae eartiness the lads could not well refuse

ve meet again?” said he, bowing to| been. handed him in the windfall by the and gratefully accepting it therefore,

es aaa Staring at the boy, whom he did two-faced Pierce Amick. : they continued their journey to Machias-

lay pre- Bes, That’s straight and exact, Mr. Wil- = port in Mr. Brown’s company, arriving
ig, each i so,” returned the other. _—_| son, remarked Ben, when he had ex- t, early Wednesday afternoon.

_ & ic ere yo ae oon, said ares 4s Soran ys ani ee a fata smack, the mrapee a ae of

ce a asantly. ‘his gentleman} “What do you know about it?” de-| \A7y : X73 about ninety tons, lay at the dock only a

ee d upon business which interests | manded the other, fiercely. Inning a ictory. few rods from the steamboat landing, and

“Enough to predict that it will be near-
ly as great a blow as you administered to
me on my eighteenth birthday.”

“What do you mean?”

“That I am Benjamin Ratcliffe, whom
you so nearly succeeded in sending toa

he and his boy guests were soon on board;
then the moorings were cast off and she
put to sea.

Under a gentle breeze from the south-
west she went slowly along and at sunset
was off Grand Manan Island. Here, with

—_—o

perhaps, your friend.” oe
4 bowed,
ars at a
Corinth,
entering ~
iad been ~

you learned anything since yes- By WILLIAM P. CHIPMAN.

amen =

lutely nothing.”

I will tell you why this gentle- (“THE RIVAL CAMPS” was commenced in No.

i a called.” drunkard’s grave, but who lives to see | ee numbers can be obtained of all News| the going down of the sun, the wind died
he ad- “Wi, ie woman! You don’t mean to| you unmasked and exposed in all your | “8° ir away, and the vessel, with her sails hang-
b. / } naked ugliness.” ing idly at her masts, scarcely moved over

me?” he n turned pale and fairly danced| Wilson stood for a moment speechless CHAPTER VII.

the surface of the bay.
with rage and chagrin.

“This is a calm in dead earnest,” Harry

oe

her, re-~ ib is what I mean todo, Thisman| “And you!” he cried, a moment later, CAUGHT IN A GALE, remarked, as he and _ his friends came on
ke room ued to see if I know anything of a| turning to Magoun. “Why did you be- deck after supper.

Qr

; ‘ ay N the meantime, utterly unaware of

Sere. Have you received a greater re-| Jb the plans of the High Stanek. eat

wer ae Laer 4 shall | tL Club, the M. V. I. crew pushed rap-
Peat Y Gra ate GA idly forward the preparations for

receive no |
reward whatever,” replied the gipsy.

4
boy who was intrusted to the care
‘my people something like four-

S ago.
Was done with my consent—I

“But I rather like it,” said Tom Sex-
smith. “Just see the shadow of the
smack in the water here,” and he pointed
over the rail.

,and his 7
cognized

 

€ss all my sin—and I received
large sum of money. I know
mes here with some definite ob-
aT think I know what it is.”
What, pray?” asked Wilson, with
ll-assumed coolness.
think that you can induce me to
Spose of him more securely, and,
heaper than this agent of yours,
agoun. Ha! have it! You
Speak, I read it in your face!”
Alse! all false!” cried the man.
» all of you,” Valentia went on.
48 ago I was stricken with a ma-
isease, which promised to take
ut from which I am now hap-
Vered,
ot, as I was, face to face with
nd my Maker, I repented of many
» Dut most of all of the one in
S man was concerned,
Months ago I visited the place
4@ boy had been disposed of to a
armer,
the lad and induced him to visit
Same day I learned that a de-
1an named Fergus had obtained,
4n inkling of the matter, and
8 to profit by it.
4a this complication I took the
ple } me, hoping to learn from
here, if in no other way, his
, rand restore him to the fortune
+ well knew he had been de-

wo designing men still pursuing
sed him to leave in company
.aithful Jean, there, who was
4m in sight, keep him out of the
lawyer and farmer, and bring
Whenever I should have learned
eeud become able to rectify the
hig? £2, Which I had been a party,
h still weighs down my con-

Was only partly successful. He
Sut of the hands of these two
Nso doing ran athwart Wil-
» Who entered into a compact
of my own people to put him
wa ”

e
false !” cried Wilson, excitedly.
is dead! He was drowned
in the Mingo River! I have
Is dead body, and can pro-
i entify it even now, if neces-

IS false!” said a deep voice in
4Dartment.

asi mt later the drapery was
~~ and a form entered, at sight
Paty one started. .
at of Henry Magoun himself.

him came another, who

eater commotion.

tur!” shouted Jean, as_ he

ard and folded our hero ina

— CONCLUSION.
0] Moment Wilson stood as if
Utely dumfounded, while the
ds and Ben Ratcliffe shook
With our youngsters.
dc rang excitedly forward.
thi. S this mean?” he demanded.
boy?”
Ste turned upon Black Henry.
€replied, “is Edward Wil-
; the man to whose im-
ae, you succeeded as next of
Ving that his son and nat-
@ | ead,”
tola Shouted Wilson.
} wd we so yourself, and I have
_ ~*Nough to verify your state-

“Yt the boy! I tell you he is

y “ontrary, he is alive. Here is
me <tpition of certain marks
eS Written by his father, your
the mesake, shortly before his
pD;,, Ouse of a man named

It is written on the

sous Sburg,
“Qvelope, Here it is,”

 

“Turned moral, have you?” sneered the
other.

“Not even that,” replied Henry, very
seriously.

“What then?”

“A very little, a very simple thing has
happened me to bring this boy here in-
stead of transporting him to Brazil, and
so circumstancing him that he could never
hope to return.”

“Let’s have it,” said Wilson, while
everybody stepped closer to the narrator,
and expectation ran high.

“Tintended to keep faith youwith, Wil-
son,” the gipsy went on, “not because I
cared for you or for my word, but because I
wanted the big reward you offered. I in-
tended to have secured it, and but for
one thing I would have done it.

“A month ago my mother, the only hu-
man being for whom I ever had the least
affection, died. I was. with her at the

time, ¢ she t 20f a boy who had} oy ys. ¢ ;
time, and she told me of a boy who had| a+ jis father’s house,

helped her in her distress caused by my
neglect, and who refused to receive any-
thing in pay therefor, saying that he did
it for her as freely as for the greatest
lady in the land.

“This made a great impression upon
the mind of my mother, and she pressed
a ring upon the boy.

“She told me this, and admonished me
to seek him out and reward him.”

“What’s the use of all this preamble?”
broke in Wilson, impatiently.

“Almost in the act of effacing the
marks upon his arm, I put my hand into
one of the pockets of his coat and took
out this,”

Black Henry held up the ring which
the gipsy woman had given Ned beside
the waterfall near Pittsburg, and of which
he had not once thought from that day
on.
“At first I was enraged to be robbed of
wealth, but afterward rejoiced that I
might show devotion to the memory of
my mother and serve one who had served
her. Take it and forgive me.”

Magoun extended the ring to our hero
as he spoke.

“I do,” cried the latter, shaking his
hand. |

“And the ring?”

“T will wear it while I live.”

This little scene over, all turned to look
for Wilson, but he had disappeared.

Through the information possessed by
Henry Magoun, he was traced down and
a large property recovered.

As for Wilson himself, he realized
something in ready money and quitted
the country.

Henry refused to receive any reward,
but through Queen Valentia Ned found
means to benefit him in a substantial
way.

Ben abandoned the woods and settled
in the same city with our hero, where he
conducted a prosperous business, and be-
came one of the leading temperance agi-
tators of the country.

Of Pierce Amick nothing was ever after
heard.

Hugo Raime returned to the band much
humbled by his experience.

Pennypacker and Fergus were not
prosecuted for their share in the transac-
tion, but the affair was made known in
the circles where they moved, and in self-
defense they were compelled to leave the
country.

Queen Valentia released Jean Cameo
from all obligations to his band, and he
is being educated for an honorable posi-
tion in life by our hero, Ned Arthur.

Ned himself has brilliant prospects in
life, and is much sought after, not only
for his wealth, but for his engaging man-
ners and good heart.

But among all he meets, there is not
one who seems so near to him as, the boy
whose cause he championed at the wrest-
ling-match in the gipsy camp.

Whatever happens to either, each will
have, while their joint lives continue,
one at least upon whom he can count as
a true, fast friend.

(THE END,}

| their own departure.

: _ At their request,
Cripple Ben again visited the institute,

visited led them to vote unanimously for
that place as their camping-ground.

Annapolis, in readiness for their arrival,
all the supplies and camping parapher-
nalia they would be likely to need dur-
ing their outing.

The lads themselves, after studying

| the various routes by which they could
| reach their destination, decided to travel

the whole distance by water, and on the
close of the school-term hurried off to
their homes
ing in Boston for their voyage.

Harry took Cripple Ben home with
himself, and the attention he showed to

strengthened,
that was possible, the warm attachment
already existing between them.

On the following Monday, the day set
for their start, they left Worcester to-
gether for Boston, and joining the
other boys at the United States Hotel,
went with them down to India Wharf,
where they embarked upon the steamer
Forest City for Portland.

Once upon the deck of the vessel, they
unfurled their silk banners, which Harry
had thus far had in his own keeping, and
with them. fluttering in the stiff breeze
sailed down the beautiful harbor to the
broad ocean.

‘Their animated faces, sprightly conver-
sation and handsome flags soon attracted
the attention of the other passengers;
and when it was once known who the
lads were and where they were going,
they became the chief center of interest
to all on board.

One old gentleman became particularly
attached to Cripple Ben, and on learning
his name was Probert, asked if he was
any relation of John Probert, captain of
the smack Swan, which had been wrecked
a few years before,

With an emotion he could not entirely
suppress, Ben replied:

“He was my father.”

“Indeed,” cried the old man, with evi-
dent pleasure; “I knew him well. My
name is Brown, and I’m in the fish trade;
have several vessels that ply back and
forth to the banks, and one time your
father did me a good turn. One of my
smacks had a sick crew; there weren’t
enough well men to handle her, and he
towed her into the nearest port without
charging acent. Said he didn’t know
when he might bein the same fix, and

was lost soon after; he was a gentleman,
every inch of him.”

Ben’s cheeks flushed with pride as the
man spoke in these hearty terms of his
father, and he felt as though he could
now claim, in spite of his deformity and
poverty, social positon among his com-
rades. The circumstance did more to
put him at his ease with his associates
than any show of good-will or kindness
on their part had done.

Mr. Brown now became yuite talkative,
and was soon in full possession of the
boat-crew’s history and the trip they con-
templated; at length turning to Harry,
whom he had learned was the leader of
the party, he inquired.

“May I ask your route to Annapolis?”

“On arriving’ in Portland to-morrow,
we expect to take the steamer City of
Richmond, of the Portland, Mt. Desert
& Machias Line, to Machiasport, where
we hope to charter a sailing-vessel to set
us over to Annapolis,” arry politely
answered. :

“How fortunate!” said the gentleman,
rubbing his hands together, “I belong at
Grand Pre upon Minas Basin, at the head
of the Bay of Fundy, and have one of my
vessels at Machiasport waiting to take
me home. What is there to prevent your
sailing with me? We'll run in through

 

Digby Gut, and leave you at Annapolis,”

“Or of the island off there,” chimed in

 

and his glowing description of the lake |
in Nova Scotia that he had previously |

Mr. Wallace was immediately notified |
of their decision, and he forwarded by |
| steamer to Halifax, and thence by rail to |

the halt boy, both on the cars and while |
if |

would need similar help. Poor fellow! he |

ob Hunt, pointing to the north.
“It’s awful hot, though,” exclaimed ,
| Fred Williams, wiping the sweat off his

| brow with his handkerchief.

Mr. Brown and the captain now came
|on deck,

“This don’t look as though we shall get
across the bay to-night,” Harry remarked
to them, as they drew near him.

“We shall be getting out of this faster
than you want to before long, youngster,”
| answered the officer, gruffly.

“Why?” questioned the lad, in some sur-
prise; for not a cloud was to be seen, the
|sky was fast filling up,with bright con-

 
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
  
   
 
 
  
 
 
   
 
   
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
  
  
   
 
   
  
  
 
  
 
 
  

| stellations, and every star was mirrored
: pat ERE |in the vast deep beneath.
for brief visits before meet- | _ : Z

It was Mr. Brown who replied:

“The barometer has suddenly fallen
several degrees, an alarming indication
that a gale is at hand.”

As for the captain, he had walked
quickly tothe helm, and taken it with
his own hands,

“All hands ahoy!” he cried; “take in
all sail!”

Instantly all was activity on board.
The hoarse orders of the officers, the an-
swers of the sailors, the creaking of the
blocks—these spoke of the imminent dan-
ger at hand, and that brave men were
doing all that could be done to prepare
for it.

Before these preparations were com-
| plete, however, the sky became overcast,

and thick darkness closed around.

“Hold fast your lines! Every man to
his post!” commanded the captain in
sharp, quick tones. “There is no know-
ing from what quarter the wind will
strike us.”

Searcely had he spoken when the whole
sky was pierced by aterrible flash of
lightning; then followed a loud and long
roar of thunder.

“T don’t like this thing,” said the mate
to the captain, rubbing his eyes to get rid
of the effects of that dazzling gleam.

“Nor do I,” admitted the captain; then
to his passages he said: “You had bet-
ter go below; we may have to put on the
hatches as soon as the wind strikes us.”

Mr. Brown, who, though the owner of
a number of vessels, was not much of a
sailor, and four of the boys, immediately
obeyed this suggestion; but Harry, Tom
Sexsmith, and Cripple Ben tarried a little
longer.

“This makes me think of old times
when with father,” Ben said to his com-
panions. “Ah, if I only had sound legs
under me, I, too, would be a sailor!”

His comrades made no reply; they
understood his feelings, however, for
even to them there was a fascination in
the approaching storm.

“Helm hard aport!” thundered the cap-
tain at this moment. “Quick, now!”

“Ay, ay, sir!” came the answer.

The creaking of the rudder to port fol-
lowed, and the schooner slowly answered
to her helm. Then came another blinding
flash, a sharper peal of thunder, and a
great gust struck the vessel that almost
threw her on her beam.

“If that’s only a feeler, there’ll be
business for us when the storm settles
down in earnest,” remarked the captain,
as he called two men to the helm and di-
rected them to lash themselves there.

The second blast of the gale was not
long incoming. It struck the vessel with
still more violence than the preceding
one. All were in momentary expectation
of hearing the snapping of the masts, or
the giving away of the sails; but the
smack bore it well, and rushed off
through the water like a race-horse.

“We are heading directly for the east
coast,” said the captain, “and if the gale
continues long at this rate, nothing can
keep us off the Digby Neck reefs.”

He now noticed the three lads standing
in the shelter of the cabin, and, with
something like admiration for their pluck,
added:

“ U
you,

here yet, boys? It’s no place for
owever; then, too, we want to lash

 

 

 

 
1804

GOOD

NEWS.

 

down the hatches. Soon the billows will
be sweeping the deck.”

Thinking of Ben rather than of them-
selves, Harry and Tom helped their com
panion down into the cabin, and the cov-
ers were fastened in place,

None too soon, moreover. for a heavy
wave a moment later buried the vessel;
before she could recover, another billow
struck her at a disadvantage, but for-
tunately her helm was down, and an-
swering it promptly she was brought out
of imminent danger.

In this way an hour passed. But little
change was noticeable; the gale scarcely
abated; the Jaboring and straining of the
vessel were terrible; to the unpracticed
ears of the lads it seemed as thongh she
might at any moment gape apart and go
down.

“if we get out of this alive, it will be
a night——” Harry had remarked; then
his words were cut short by a terrible
lurch of the schooner, followed by a loud
cry from the deck.

The next instant the hatch was thrown
open, and the maie’s voice called out:

“The captain has been washed over-
board, and breakers are just ahead of us!
You had better come on deck.”

With pale faces, Mr. Brown and the
Jads hurried up -the ladder, Harry help-
ing Ben hefore he went himself.

In the darkness little could be seen, but
the sound of breakers rose even above the
noise of the gale,

“Do you know where you are?” asked
Mr. Brown of the mate.

“T heard the cantain say before he was
washed overboard that we were driving
for Dighy Neck reef,” he replied; “but
aim not acquainted with the shore, Does
any one know thé coast?”

The last question was asked in tones
that could be heard all over the deck.

For a minute no one answered. Every
individual on board knew the situation
was almost hopeless, and all shrank from
assuming any responsibility in such a
dire extremity.

It was a timeof fearfulsuspense. They
were being driven forward with fright-
ful rapidity, every moment bearing them
nearer destruction,

“What light is that to the north-east?”
suddenly asked Mr. Brown.

“It must be the one at the entrance of
Digby Gut,” cried the mate. “Again I
ask. don’t some of you men know this
coast?”

Then a voice rang clear above the roar
of the storm and seething billows:

“If that is Digby Light, I do; take me
to the wheel and hold me on nv feet, and
I will put the craft into the harbor.”

It was Cripple Ben who had spoken.

CHAPTER VIII.
CRIPPLE BEN AT THE HELM,

2

=F) EN'S.| astonishing declaration

seemed to both Mr. Brown and the
Bx mate to be little more than an idle
Se boast; but not so to Harry Wal-
lace. He knew his young friend was not
only perfectly familiar with the handling
of a vessel, but had also sailed in those
waters before, and he put implicit confi-
dence in his unexpected and seemingly
wild assertion,

“Here, Tom,” he cried, “let us help Ben
over to the wheel. You know he’s been
here before, and can steer a boat like a
sailor.”

His words electrified the despairin
seamen and well-nigh helpless lads, anc
they cheered Tom Sexsmith as he prompt-
lv sprang forward toanswer Harry's call.
The next instant the crippled youth was
at the helm, held upon his feet not only
by his two boy friends, but also by the
two sailors, who, without the slightest
hesitation, had surrendered the wheel to
his hands.

There is no doubt that the violence of
the gale had now somewhat diminished,
but the wind was still strong and the sea
turbulent, and it was well for Brn that
he brought to his self-assigned task mus-
cles that had become like irun from con-
stant rowing, and a courage and a will-
power that knew no yielding.

Grasping firmly the spokes of the rnd-
der wheel, he listened a moment for the
sound of the breakers so alarmingly
near, The schooner was running in a
north-easterly direction, and the noise of
the dashing waters was directly ahead.

A vigorous turn of the wheel let the
schooner drop off a point or two, and as
she, wi h a tremor that shook her from
bow to stern, settled to her new course,
it was apparent to every listener that the
breakers had, by that movement, been
brought upon the left hand, and the ves-
sel was at last running parallel with and
not into them.

A surden conviction that the lad knew
what he was about now seized the mate,
who had thus far stood passively at the
cabin door, and, stepping quickly along
to the wheel, he said:

“You are in command, youngster; give
your orders and they shall be obeyed.”

 

“T’ll tell you what I’m up to,” replied
Ben, frankly, but still attending closely
to his helm: “there are two reefs in here.
The outer one lies north of, and at the
east end overlaps, the second. Between
them is a deep channel that in favorable
weather is sometimes used by vessels to
save the longer course around the reefs.
I’ve been through there once, and am go-
ing to try to make the passage now. It’s
risky in this storm, I know, but it’s our
only chance, and is worth taking.”

“T see,” responded the officer, heartily ;
“and you want a sharp lookout kept for-
ward.”

“Yes,” assented Ben; “and have your
men stand ready to hoist the main jib
when we reach the channel; it will steady
the schooner, and give her better head-
way as we run down it.”

With asmothered exclamation of sur-
prise, the mate repeated these orders to
the sailors,

Swiftly the smack sped along her
course, until the young pilot’s quick ear
detected the sound of breakers on the
right as well as the left hand.

“We are close to the channel,” he said,
hastily, to the officer at his side; “quick
with your orders.”

“Hoist the main jib! Keep a sharp
lookout forward!” were the immediate
commands.

“Ay, ay, sir!” answered the men, spring-
ing to the ropes.

“Breakers!” called the lookout, as the
jib was hauled to its place.

“Where away?” asked Ben himself,
eagerly.

“On the right, and not ten fathoms off !”
was the startling reply.

A vivid flash of lightning at this in-
stant gave the lad his bearings. The west
end of the second reef of ledges was close
at hand on the starboard quarter, while
the east end of the first reef tapered away
on the larboard, and the schooner was
making fora narrow but open passage
between them. Straight ahead faintly
but steadily gleamed the lamp in the
light-house at the entrance into Digby
Gut, and with a grip on the wheel that
held the tossing vessel to her place, Ben
ran directly fcr it.

There was fortunately a lull in the gale
at that moment, and under the impetus
of her swelling jib the noble craft sped
down the center of the channel. A slight
devia ion to either the right or the left
would have sent her to instant destruc-
tion.

Not a word was spoken by any one.
Ben's eyes were strained forward to pen-
etrate, if possible, the thick gloom; his
ears had not less tension to catch the
faintest sound.

“Breakers right ahead!” suddenly
shouted the man forward, in great alarm;
but the youny pilot was on the alert, and
had detected the sound as soon as he, and
a quick turn of the wheel was his only
answer.

Then a flash of lightning revealed that
the vessel, just clearing a huge projec-
tion of rocks on the starboard, and over
which the waves were dashing in fury,
had emerged into the comparatively
smooth waters at the mouth of Digby
Gut.

The perilous passage was safely made.

Not, however, until the schooner had
been brought under the lee side of one of
the projecting headlands, and securely
anchored, did Ben leave his post; then,
quite exhausted by the severe strain, he
was assisted into the cabin, where Mr.
Brown’s own hands ministered to him,
until his wet clothes were changed for
errand he was snugly stowed into his

erth. ;

“Tt’s a bold move you have made to-
night, my boy,” remarked Mr. Brown,
with considerable emotion, as he spread a
light blanket over the lad; “we shall not
soon forget that your cool head and strong
arm have not only saved the vessel, but,
in all probability, our lives.”

“That’s so,” assented Harry Wallace
and his five comrades in a chorus; for
they were all in the cabin changing their
wet garments and preparing for a much-
ueeded rest.

“Something had to be done to save the
smack and us: and, as I knew about the
reefs, I was the one to undertake it. It
wasn't anything more than the rest of
you would have tried had you been ac-
quainted here,” replied Ben, modestly.

What Mr. Brown would have answered
it is impossible to say, for, before he could
utter a word, the hatch was thrown back,
and the mate and one of the sailors de-
scended, bearing between them an un-
conscious form.

“Why, who’s this? What’s happened?”
asked Mr. Rrown, in consternation; then
catching sight of the unfortunate man’s
face, he answered hissown question in
the words: “If I live, it’s the captain.”

“Yes,” replied the mate, and nodding
for his companion to lower the body of
the officer down upon the cabin floor;
“you see, he wasn’t washed overboard,
after all. The wave that swept him off
his feet drove him head first into the

 

caboose, and left him stunned on the floor
until the cook went in to light the fire,
and found him,”

“He isn’t dead, then?” exclaimed Mr.
Brown, joyfully.

“No, only unconscious from the blow
on the head; we'll soon bring him to,”
responded the mate; kneeling down to
chafe the captain's wrists and temples.

Mr. Brown.came to his assistance; such
simple restoratives as the vessel afforded
were used, and after a time the man slow-
ly returned to consciousness,

His first words were an inquiry for the
condition of the smack, and when told she
was safely anchored under the headlands
of Digby Gut he seemed satisfied, and
soon sank into a quiet and refreshing
sleep.

The next morning, however, he was
quite himself, and after breakfast di-
rected the getting of the scbooner under
way, and the bringing of her up to the
dock at Annapolis. He was enthusiastic
over Cripple Ben’s daring and successful
attempt to run between the outside reefs
in the darkness and storm of the night
before.

“Thad thought of the same thing,” he
said; “but when I was swept off my
feet, I concluded 'twas all up with the
smack, for I knew Johnson (the mate)
wasn’t acquainted in here. How came you
to know ’bout the passage, youngster?”

“T was up here a few years ago with
my father, John Probe: t, and ran through
there,” Ben explained, wishing the cap-
tain and his other friends would let the
whole matter drop, for they had all had
so much to say about his act that he was
becoming tired of hearing of it.

“John Probert your father!” cried the
captain. ‘“ Why, I might have known it;
you are just his picture, and have some
of the same grit in ye, too. What a pity
you haven’ta pairof sound legs under ye;
you’d be in charge of a smack in no
time.”

Evidently to the captain this was the
height of all human ambition. :

“T say, Ben, would you like to go up
town with the rest of us?” Harry Wal-
lace calied out at this moment. “ We are
going up to Boland & Wilder’s, to whose
care father sent our traps. It’s not far, I
chink, and, perhaps, you’ll enjoy the
walk.”

“T'll go,” answered Ben, picking up his
crutches, for he was glad of the oppor-
tunity to get away from the well-mean-
ing but talkative officer.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)
—— OS Om t——i—

A CLEVER ESCAPE.

CELIUS SECUNDUS CURION, a

ae zealous Lutheran, having had the

boldness to convict of falseliood in

Y open church, at Casal, amonk who

had indulged in the most calumnious

insinuations against the great leader of

the German Reformation, was immedi-

ately arrested by order of the inquisitor of
Turin,

After having been transferred succes-

sively to several prisons, he contrived to
escape in a manner so skillful and unex-
pected that his enemies accused him of
having had recourse to magic. As this
was an accusation not less dangerous
than that of heresy, Curion hastened to
exculpate himself by publishing the de-
tails of his enterprise in a short, Latin
dialogue entitled Probus. The following
extracts will satisfy the reader’s curi-
osity:
. a my new prison I had been confined
for a week, with huge pieces of wood
chained tomy feet, when I was favored
with asudden inspiration from heaven.
As soon as the young man who acted as
my keeper entered my chamber, I begged
and prayed of him to release one of my
feet from its encumbrances; It would be
sufficient security, I said, that I should
still by the other foot be fastened to an
enormous log.

“As he was a humane sort of fellow, he
consented, and set one foot free. A day,
two days passed, during which I applied
myself to work, Taking off my shirt, and
also the stocking from the leg which was
at liberty, I made them up into a dummy
resembling a leg, on which I put a shoe.
I was in want of something, however, to
give it consistency, and was anxiously
looking about in all directions, when I
caught sight of a stick lying under a row
of seats.

“Seizing it joyfully, I inserted it into
the sham limb, and concealing the true
one under my cloak, waited the result of
my stratagem. When my young keeper
made his appearance next morning, he
asked me how I was.

“*T should do pretty well,’ I said, ‘if
you would he good enough to put my fet-
ters on the other leg, so that each may
have a rest inturn.’ He assented, and,
without perceiving it, attached the log
to the dummy.” :

At night, when their loud snores in-

 

formed him that his jailers were?
Curion threw aside the false leg, 7
his shirt and stocking, and openeé
lessly the prison door, which Wa
tened by asimple bolt. Afterward,#
not without difficulty, he scaled tH
and got away without interruptiog

—_-—_——_- 6 -o—--- -—

A JUVENILE BALLOOM

AHE most remarkable balloon

3 ~? sion that ever took place Wy

4. made in France, by an ap
boy, twelve years old,
Guerin, who was taken up by t

of the balloon itself without his®

and without any intention that B
go up-on the pay of any other pe
was a rarefied air balloon. The

in the form of a boat, and was 0%
pended from the balloon by cords
to each end of it when the ball@
There was also an anche
ended by a cord from the bottoligy

filled.

oat, which was intended to ca
the ground and hold the balloon
should come down. A
After the balloon was filled,
ready to goup, some of the #
held it by cords, while others
work to attach the car to it. #
secured one end, and were the
secure the other, when by some

the balloon broke away from if

ing it, and began to slowly ris
the same time to drift along?

wind, dragging the car and the
It happened at
the anchor was thus drawn @@et

over the ground.

was beginning to rise, it passed sd
over this boby—who was sitting

near by with his companions, 00%
ing of being anything but.a spe
1e!

the proceedings—as to catch t

the waistband of his pantalooDs,

it continued to ascend it tod
with it.

‘bhe boy uttered piercing se
cries and calls for help, and
peep eins no harm in this so 10%

eid on bravely.
possible, except calls to him
to “hold on,”
band began to give way, and be
ively grasped the rope above
with both hands, and so susté
self. The strength of his hands
the aid of the hook in his W
would not have been sufficienb
his weight many minutes; an

pe
rhe
band was not strong enough wi a

hands. Both together, howevely™
the purpose.
It was very fortunate fo
it was a Montgolfier—that is, ?
air balloon, and not one fille@y
drogen—that was running away |
for in the latter case the 8
would have continued to expé4
outside pressure upon it dim
the increasing elevation; aney
would have been no possibilill®
ing the valve, as is usual] dé
lieve it, the balloon woul ;
and collapsed, and the poor 4
have fallen athousand feet it
the ground with full force. Bu
Montgolfier, the ascending ,P™
ually diminished as the alt 2
until at length, after floating
in equilibrium, it began slow
scend, if
As the balloon approached @
the rope, which had begun t
under the influence of the b®
turned more and more rapidl
much as a peison suspended i
loon is never conscious of his “ot,
—the illusion which makes %
seem to be in the earth, an iss
balloon, being perfect—as

s > : ersOh a f
on asmaller scale to ap af 1

in the elevator of a hotel—it
Guerin that the earth was spi?
beneath him in a vast an
ful gyration: “Dl
than ever. As hedrew nearel 5
or rather, as it appeared to rat
ground and concourse of spee
it came whirling up to him,
to the people to save him. i
him in reply not to be affts
was all right, and, receiving it
arms as soon as he came W
they at the “same moment pO
spinning of the earth and u?
from the anchor.

The incident, of course, ere
sensation at the time, and @
of it became a part of
aerostation, the story wil
all coming days. Guerin
very suddenly famous. As tes
in the air about fifteen mints p
prebable that this boy aca¥y a
immortality at an earlier @f gi
shorter time, than any other?

 

Live fish have been safely
mail from India to the Br!

They are now prospering i# “a oh

the museum,

the
Of course, n0#™

froh
He found that #8

kA

7

) A
ey

The boy was Mm,

Te

Seuss

Ent haves

hey th, Se lt
 

 

e 3 v
eee rs a8 a:
!
|
rs were @ 2 Sata -
aoe leg, re ih : } | dusky-faced Karens, who advanced in| aloud; “these wretches may be lurking
et opened! iin VA ANIC # | swarms from their jungle fastnesses, | all around me—hullo, what's that?”
which Wa ( (| ld ()\\ | when the first streak of dawn glowed on | “Adair, Adair,” came a feeble cry from
fterward, y JW 5 | the Burmese Hills. c 3 .q.|@& patch of grass ahead; and, dashing |
, scaled the | Brave Colonel Macdonald grew a trifle| forward, the surgeon nearly stumbled
i

iterruption: OR,

oon@MUON ADAIR'S BRAVERY

s BY STERRY EGERTON.

-

le balloot
ok place
by an appr

‘'s old, aa AY

» Percy, what is the outlook for

u's P
up by the i) Ray On this campaign, anyhow?
hout his V Wl any of us be able to sport the
on that bein...’ C.on our well-worn uniforms
other perm vel from date?”

on. The Ming -282t Percy Collroke rammed his
nd was ore full of tobacco, lit it, and after
by cords atl It mary puff or two, said slowly:

the ballots Oubtful, Dormer, very doubtful.
; an ancley dy Paign is two weeks old already,
she bottomigvill, athave we accomplished? Burned

ied to cal@gay cpr two, strung up half a dozen
e balloon ™ Riya ess and scared the enemy into

apt dish} where half a dozen batteries
as filled, Mgt na lodge them. Macdonald declares
of the a pw oo us in after them, if they
e others neh tats er out, and if he does—we're
* to it. Deities ig trap. I know what these
ere theD Be jyy.)."2™ps are. The Karens and

flung}
n by someyeis» 8

y from th Les,” es
ia ’ Said
lowly ris@yghlat's :

t along willl true e

© fever will make short work
Dormer,
hough.”

hoked on
fe at the
. while
lan sun
er the
Is to the
Of the

ey

r and th@tg Silen
happene@ as d
ime alom hot
it passed Satk oy
as sitting eoMy hi)
unions, nt neat
but a § mt? Wher 7

| catch the! Mtetrea es ‘kod
yan taloonsig Pbellions mo
1 it toOh SRS At last the
: cen hing “cleardown
cing SChratiyn, the ridge
lp, and tb 8 dusk oe!
this so Lonk Webind it: =
jurse, DO vs ell, :
to him fam va
nd that ae n
he is

or,
Ing

 

a

’

 

a

Z Said Sur-
Adair,
Pst

a
Ss

=e

+=

; and
a Ng his
Imbs, cry
pouldn’t
hg back
hd With a

a

dS) sf
in his wat

sufficient i be
ites; an rt . 8 Toss on
enough ¥ Phe. Pas f, I’d
aie of! ¥ lon OY the
ate for Gs 8 ely bercepti-
that Jo ae a &r over-
one fille wil ho Lieutenant

ing away Yn’ ace,
se the Bf digg, forget that
d to expe fn. licers are
n it dim eign,” yetants,
Mj; Ae re-
es Mstead
You fel-
IVileved
1! E lin; Pill-boxes

Cs

     
 
    
      
  
    
 

 

     
 
      

| gradually prevailed, and at last, inch by} ready the blade was lifted, and had the|

nd feet oat |, 1e iron
force. * ag Day eStowed
nding , Pegg I iy hot for
the all @% a Sawing
r floating 1 Ng ed for com-
egan slow H wish Crugs,”
ee this oct,
roached tp’, Lieu
| begun "g ieg CY Coolly
f the DO sie. IS ping
° shecon I pe.
re rapid] ot! “d, ang Adair
pended 7 gi borg With
us of hiS “ag alk » turned
h makes 0 re “a away.
arth, an@ saat tna that was
ct—as it og wer, wie,” Said
~ a per aih neve 2Y do you dislike the fellow
10tel— Pe ailan 8
h was spirit vthe WAS too big for his boots,” re-
ist and ue W Re; Rt yutenant, with a sniff of con-
oy was mM nerayo.”  ttke to bring him down a peg
»w nearel pi ey :
pared 0 tite of un ish you’d do it when I’m
se of SP oe Oi. Wwe? Tesponded Dormer; “it’s
to him, nes 4 | ian in jvard for a fellow. There’sa
»him. fy Th ise) \, Pll bet a guinea,” he added
> be aft i Wan? the was well aware that
eceiving «yi ea time lad originated in England
came wi to Dee dros efore the regiment was or-
moment 4 heeed th » and, moreover, he shrewdly
h and uP inj "ton, Adair was not altogether
Dey, fr ae
ourse, crete tty “SCussion was ended’ by an
e, and a8 peaRy, tnt “(est to Lieutenant Collroke
rt of the yeh eth; se i f at headquarters.
ry will De oe Ate“, as | is in the wind,” mused
uerin one 1 40r “tq .,'° Sat smoking in solitary
us. AS ces fe 4px ‘8 prediction was correct ; for
pen mint of € hat ¢ Sounded, the whole camp |
boy acd! e.! ona the © Karens were gathering in |
arlier 4 ahh Wa fedge of the swamp, and an
v BRS org ie amp, ¢
ny other My Bins “ered for daybreak.
EL Ribyeyy Mounted infantry were
soi cafel? had In every sense of the|

: a fy
tis! An tks of fought the Pattians on
t

the Bri

Ponte «the Indus aa he io

4 Nyjo & > indus, and had had more
pering phthe Peounter with the Thibetans
y Aggy °C ling frontier, but never

& fiercey foe than those!

paler and sterner when his glasses showed

him how thickly the foe were mustering; |

but, with the same coolness that always
characterized his fighting mien, he gave
his orders, and then, in the gray light of
dawn, led the wavering line of troopers
| across the narrow plain that skirted the

1805

 

over the prostrate form of Lieutenant
Collroke. A ery of surprise came from his
lips, as he bent over the wounded officer;
|} and then a sudden pallor flashed over his
bronzed cheeks as he saw four half-naked
Karens burst from a bamboo coppice,
twenty yards distant, and down

| : sweep
jungle. Each man felt that hot work| on the two Englishmen. Collroke pulled
| was ahead, and they were not disap- | himself to his elbows and aransed back
pointed. The Karens made a desperate | with a groan.

stand, and as the troopers dashed into | “It’s all up with me,” he cried, feebly
the jungle, from every tree, and bush mt arse ed, feedly,
eee ; : ;| “save yourself, Adair.

and clump of grass, came long shafted
spears, and ruddy flashes from murderous

 

For answer, the surgeon

grasped the

old matehlocks that brought more than | wounded man under the shoulders, and

one brave fellow low. But many a death-
shriek told of swift and rapid atonement,
as the revolvers cracked andthe gleam
ing swords reeking with warm life-blood
flashed in the air.

Although for a time the issue was criti-
cal, the valor of the skilled native troops

| dropped him against

|

|

a tree that stood a
them.

his revolver,

few feet behind
word, he drew
Collroke’s sword from its scabbard, and
wheeled around, just in time to face the
foremost of the Karens, a burly savage
armed with a double-edged sword. Al-

inch, the enemy were forced back, fight- | surgeon turned a second later, he would

ing with reckless desperation at
step.

Whatever else he may have been, Lieu-
tenant Collroke was no coward.

the right wing of the

every

more than one matchlock was aimed

THROWING ASIDE ALL
His stanch

sides of him,

the daring young officer.
troopers went down on all
but, for a time, be seemed to bear a
charmed life. Then, from an unseen
clump of jungle grass, sped a pointed
spear, and piercing the young officer’s

 

 

| second
When |}
attack, under his |
impetuous command, struck the Karens
sententiously, | like a cyclone, more than one spear, and
ie at |

ENCUMBRANCES,

|chances were desperate,

have been struck down from the rear,
but he dodged to one side and parried the
blow with a sharp stroke that
drew sparks from the steel. The Karen
was no mean opponent, and, with rude
skill, he turned aside the surgeon's rapid
thrusts, while his three comrades were
closing in on Adair from both sides.

 

THEY RUSHED ON THE SURGEON,

and the plucky

surgeon knew it well.

breast, brought him to the ground, while |

the riderless horse plunged frantically
into the deepest recesses of the swamp.
The luckless Karen made speedy expia- |

tion, for the trooper behind spitted him
on the point of his saber, like a basted
fowl; and then, as the attack veered to
one side, the wounded officer was left
bleeding and forgotten on the earth.
With his little hlack box strapped to his
back Surgeon Adair followed on the heels
of the attack. With infinite tenderness,
and firm touch he ministered to the
wounded, stanching a spear thrust or a

bullet hole, cooling fevered lips witha
refreshing lotion or speaking words of

sad comfort to some poor fellow whose
eyes were already dim and glassy.
Oblivious to his surroundings,

pressed forward on his work of mercy,
until, with a start, he saw that he was
almost alone in the jungle, save for half
a dozen scattered troopers who were cir-
cling on either side beating the bush for
| hidden foes.

he |

| target ;

It was still possible to gain safety by
flight, but to do that Collroke must be
abandoned to his fate. The other savages
were close at hand, and, with a
ate blow, Adair shattered his opponent’s

sword, and then, before he could spring |

backward, drove his own blade into his
body and down he went hors de combat.

Not ten feet away, another sinewy
savage was in the act of aiming his
matchlock. Quick as a flash, Adair

caught the dead body of his late opponent,
and holding it before him, ran at the fel-
low with the gun. The report rang out,
but »the bullet only pierced the human
and before the native could flee,

| Adair leaped out of the drifting smoke and

brought him down with a bullet through

his brain. The surgeon's blood was up
l/now, and, dashing back in front of his

wounded charge, he faced the two re- |
maining Karens, who, instead of -profit- |

ing by their comrades’ fate, bounded
fiercely to the attack. Abandoning their
guns, which were geome not loaded,
and throwing aside all encumbrances,
they rushed on the surgeon with uplifted
swords, evidently certain of his speedy
destruction.

Sending off one hand,

them with

“I'd better go back,” he muttered, half- | Adair cocked his revolver with the other,

Then, without a
snatched |

The |

desper- |

|and took a hasty aim at the foremost of
his foes; but, before he could press the
trigger, the pistol was knocked from his
grasp, and he was left with only bis
sword to depend upon. A hasty glance
| through the jungle showed not a single
British uniform in sight, and still un-
daunted, Adair turned on his foes with
naked saber, Coolly, he parried the
double thrusts to the amazement of the
|furious savages, who had anticipated an
easy victory. ‘hen a vengeful Junge broke
through his guard, and he received a bad

| wound in his left arm.
| Maddened with pain, he lifted his
|saber, and with one terrific blow drove

the blade deep into the skull of the near-
est Karen.

The handle slipped from his grasp, and,
before he could regain possession of it, the
last remaining Karen bore down on ! im
with uplifted sword. Adair tried to
dodge the blow, and the sharp biade,
narrowly missing his head, sank deep
into his shoulder.

Stunned and dizzy he hurled himself
against his antagonist, and they went
down together, rolling over on the crim-
soned ground. Adair was fast losing con-
sciousness, but with one desperate effort
he freed himself from the Karen’s grip,
and staggered to his feet, hoping to find
a weapon with which to dispatch his
enemy. But he, too, was up in an in-
|stant, and, drawing a long dagger from
his waist, leaped at the surgeon,

The latter stumbled backward a few
paces, vainly look-
ing fora weapon,
and attempting to
ward off the
strokes, but the
Karen was _ press-
ing him viciously,
and the end of the
Struggle was close
at band. His foot
slipped on some-
thing, and, stuop-
ing blindly, he
clutched a gun-
stock, Drawing
back just as tie
deiermivned Karen
made a {inal rush,
he brought the
heavy maichlock

down onthe shaven
head of his enemy,
and then keeled
, over like a log, as
half a dozen troop-
ers galloped upon
the scene with
drawn sabers,

Collroke and
Adair were carried
to camp on two
stretchers, and,
stra: ge tosay, both
pulled _ thro gh,
though their

wounds were gricy-
ous.

What took place
between them on
their recovery, none
ever knew, but,
when the Biluch
infantry marched
back to Mandalay
no closer friends
were to be fo: nd
in the whole com-
mand than Lieu-
tenant Cu.l oke and

Surgeon Adair,
and two montis
later it was Lieu-

tenant Collroke

himself who pre-
sented by special
; permission the
| Victoria Cross to Surgeon Jack Adair

|for valor, as the dispatch read, in sav-
ing a wounded comrade at the risk of
his own life.

WHY BEES WORK IN THE DARK,

Bees work at night in the hive, and
build comb as perfectly as if an electric
light shone there all the time. It has
often been asked why they prefer to work
in the dark. Honey has been experiment-
ally enclosed in well-corked flasks, some
of which were kept in perfect darkness,
while the others were exposed to the
light. The result was that the portion
exposed to the light soon crystallized,
while that kept in the dark remained un-
changed. Hence we see why the bees are
so careful to obscure the glass windows
which are placed in their hives. The ex-
listence of the young depends on the
liquidity of the saccharine food presented
to them, and if light were allowed access
to this, it would, in all probabliity, prove
| fatal to the inmates of the hive,

—_s-_¢-_o____.

A HIPPOMETER, to record the number of a
horse’s paces and the distance he has traveled,

has been invented by an officer in the Freneh
‘army,

 
SE BN aig ine <RER, =

WER Bier ly:

St META

 

Staab haere ae int cit tcRt rion

1806

a seat ee ~~ as.
SAAN BE ELS ART NORD LEE ELEGY DTA NEAL EA

 

 

 

 

YOUNG ADAM.

(Continued from page 1800.)

was to be feared from any hostiles that
might be there, and the coast was clear
in every direction. So I started on a walk
toward the motionless form on the prairie.

I was awed by the belief that the In-
dian was dead. But I was mistaken.
He grasped his rifle in his right hand,
and made an attempt to bring it to bear
on me as he saw me approaching, but he
was too weak, and forcing himself toa
half-sitting position, calmly waited for
me to give him the finishing stroke,

Slipping from the saddle, I extended
my hand, and said:

“T hardly thought, Mr. Brown, when
we parted last summer at West Point,
that we should next meet under these
circumstances.”

He had recognized me before I did him.
I saw from the expression of his face
that he was suffering keenly, but, com-
pressing his lips, he shook his head and
refused to take my hand.

“Come,” said I, kindly, “you are badly
hurt; I do not want to abandon you to
die on the prairie; let me help you on my
horse, for your own is. beyond reach,
and take you to the Agency, where you
san receive the medical attention that
may save your life. It is certain death to
stay here.”

It was useless. He shook his head, his
black eyes flashing, and his lips com-

 

pressed, and impatiently motioned me |
away. He would not open his lips, nor |

allow me to touch him.

Loth to leave the young Sioux, for
whom I felt the deepest sympathy, I re-
mained, using all the persuasion I could
to induce him to allow me to help him.
I was forced, however, to give it up, and
vaulting to my saddle, I paused only long
enough to say:

“Good-by, Adam; you attempted my
life, but I feel only pity for you, and |
am grieved to the heart that the friend.
ship formed a few months ago, and which
I hoped would last through life, must
end in this manner.”

Sullen and resentful as ever, he gave
no sign that he heard me, but, as I rode
away, settled himself into as comfortable
a posture as he could, and with the
stoicism of his race, calmly awaited the

-end.

As you know, the war ended soon after.
The troops were transferred to different
stations, but I was obliged to remain at
Pine Ridge Agency for some time longer.
A few days before the departure of my
regiment, who should call at my quarters
but Mr. Adam Brown, whom I was cer-
tain had perished on the winter prairie
weeks before, his heart full of bitterness
toward my race?

Although at that time he was dressed
in the wild attire of his people when on
the war-path, he was now robed like an
American gentleman. He looked the
same as when at West Point, except that
his clothing was appropriate to the sea-
son. I noticed, however, that he limped
and walked with the help of a cane.

When we had shaken hands, and I had
made him welcome, he said with his win-
ning smile:

“You have heard that every person has
something of the ‘old Adam’ in his na-
ture. I have learned that I have more
than my full share.”

“In fact, you are ‘young Adam,’” I re-
plied, with a laugh.

“You were surprised at that incident
on the prairie, and so am J, but the ex-
Pee is brief. While I was doing my

est to allay the intensifying excitement
caused by the ghost dances, the harangues
of the hot-blooded bucks, and the insane
ery of the coming Messiah, I fell a vic-
tim to the craze myself. It seemed as if
my whole nature was changed, and I sud-
denly turned from a man of peace into an
irrestrainable advocate of war to the bit-
ter end.

“Nothing can show more vividly my de-
lirium than my first act. I was so impa-
tient to fight the whites that I started
out without any companion. I was too
eager to wait for the others. :

“TI made a slight mistake when I at-
tacked you,” continued Adam, with an-
other smile, “and I thought you had fin-
ished me. But you were not gone long
when some of my own people found me
and gave me such care that I came round.

During my convalescence, the delirium,

or insanity, or whatever you may call
it, left me. I saw what an awful error’]
had made, and prayed for forgiveness.
When, at last, able to move, I resumed
my labors in favor of peace, and I hope
did something to atone for the evil
wrought by my example.

“In fact,” added my young friend, as he
gave me his hand at parting, “So much
of the ‘old Adam’ is driven out of me
that I have decided not to go to college
for a year or more, but to stay and labor
among my people for their good.”

 

A TUSSLE WITH A WILDCAT.

BY M. SILINGSBY.
oS Wipe oe

“ED TIBBETS and Hipe Young, two

sf adventurous sportsmen ef the pe-

riod, though of hardy mold, started

<<’ one day for Teneriff Mountain to

hunt. Teneriff is one of a chain of peaks,

or foot-hills, stretching north in a con

necting link to the White Mountains, of

which Mount Washington is the famous
representative,

Ceneriff is a rocky, heavily wooded ele-
vation, and is famous as the especial
haunt of a species of wildcat of enormous
size and ferocity. The raccoon is also
very plentiful, as well as almost every
variety of wild game common to this sec-
tion of country. It was after coons, how-
ever, that Young and Tibbets had started,
though they did not intend to turn their
backs upon any other varmint that might
chance to cross their path, providing it
was of sufficient value to waste powder
upon. 7

The two hunters, after climbing some
distance up the side of the mountain, con-
sidered it bcd to separate, each agreeing
that a shot from either should be a signal
to the other to hurry to the spot where
the shot had been fired. Young took a
course to the left and Tibbets to the right,
gradually diverging as they ascended, It
was a bright moonlight night, and this
rendered their progress less difficult than
if it had been overcast. . Young met with
more obstructions in his ascent than Tib-
bets, for he was obliged to clamber over
rocks and scale ledges, while there was
less of this formidable obstruction in the

|

i way of his companion. Tibbets ascended

for a considerable distance without en-
countering anything in the shape of game
worth mentioning, when suddenly he
heard a shot from his companion, and
hurried as rapidly as possible in the direc-
tion of the firing.

They were probably at this time some
five hundred yards apart, although Tib-
bets was considerably higher up the
mountain than Young, as he judged from
the location of the sound. He accordingly
started down the mountain at the top of
his speed, bearing in a line to the right,
which he calculated would bring him to
the desired locality. Once he plunged
headlong over a rocky cliff some twelve
or fifteen feet high, but the land at the
base was soft and yielding, and he sus-
tained no injury from the fall farther
than an uncomfortable jar. Hescrambled
to his feet the next moment, and picking
up his rifle, which he had let drop in his
awkward fall, hurried on at the risk of
fresh mishaps.

He advanced some thirty or forty rods,
when his ear was suddenly arrested by a
fierce struggle a little to the right, and
still a little farther down the declivity.
He could plainly hear the dry limbs snap
under the contestants, accompanied by
fierce oaths and furious, cat-like yells.

The oaths proceeded from the lips of
Young, and the screams from one of the
fierce mountain wildcats. They were evi-
dently having it hot and furious, and
Tibbets sprang onward with renewed
speed.

“Hallo! Hipe—where are you?”

“Down here, Jed—cuss the varmint—
where are you? He’s tearing the hide off
me! I sha’n’t never get off o'm Taneriff
alive! Blast yer eyes, you squealing
devil, I’d like to tear yer eyes out, mas-
ter lively !”

“Hang on, Hipe! I’m coming for you
like blazes !”

When Jed Tibbets reached the spot
where he supposed the struggle was going
on he could see nothing of poor Hipe. He
had disappeared as effectually as though
the earth had opened to swallow him up.
At this moment “Old Music,” their coon
dog, came rushirg by Jed with a_ sharp,
resonant yelp that awoke the echoes of
the mountain.

“Where are you, Hipe?” again shouted
Jed, as he plunged down the steep
descent full of anxiety for his friend.

“Down here!” was the answer that now
came back to him from below; “and the
cussed brute is a wostin’ me.”

Jed Tibbets heard Old Music make a
wild plunge downward, yelping sharply
as he disappeared over the brow of a low
Perna upon the very verge of which
ne had now brought up in season to avoid
a dangerous fall. Hipe and his brute an-
tagonist, as well as Old Music, had all
evidently gone over, but he could discover
oe of them, it was so very dark below

im.

Still he could hear something of what
was going on. Hipe’s angry voice was
audible for an instant, and then there
was the sound as-of a heavy body falling
among thick bushes, followed by oaths
and a dull splash in the water far be-
neath.

“Where are you, Hipe?” shouted Jed,
peering down through the darkness.

“Cussed if I know!” was the curt
response of Hipe, a good distance below.

+’ I’ve fell a thousand feet if I have an

GOoonDpD

NEW &.-

 

 

inch, and I guess by the feeling I’m in
the top of a tree, but the ’tarnal varmint
has let go his hold, anyhow!”

Jed carefully clambered down the face
of the precipice, landing on a sort of step
or shelf of about ten or fifteen feet in
width. Venturing cautiously to the edge
of this he peered down, and discovered
what appeared to be the top of’a gigantic
tree some twenty feet directly underneath
him. He halloed again to Hipe, who
answered him from the tree-top.

“Are you much hurt?” demanded Jed.

“No, I ain’t hurt a bit, except the
cussed scratches I’ve got. I landed in
this yere tree as soft as a chicken; but I
got a puty good jar just an instant before
I tumbled down here. But blast the
durned varmint, I come square on top of
it that time as good luck would hav’ it.
Look out you don’t blunder down here,
Jed, for I reckon the way I got served it
ain’t a very safe place up there. I'm go-
ing to try now and see if I can’t climb
down out of this. The worst on it is I’ve
lost my gun somewhere in the tussle.”

“You'll find your gun all right in the
morning, no doubt,” answered ‘Tibbets,
confidently. “I'll try to get down to you
somehow by the time you can descend
from the tree.”

“That's right, but be careful of your
footing, Jed,” was the answer that came
back to him. Carefully feeling his way
along the verge of the precipice for some
distance Tibbets came to a point where
he could make the descent, and soon
joined Young, who had made his way
safely down from his dangerous perch in
the tree.

They looked about them, and found
they were on the rim or margin of a little
basin of water—the branches of the great
hemlock into which Young had so luckily
fallen, overshadowing about one-third of
its area. ‘The brow of the precipice over-
jutted its base so that the great tree had
grown up nearly under it, which explains
the reason why Young cculd have fallen
into the very Jap of it.

Just then Old Musie came crawling
toward them from the water’s edge, whin-
ing dolefully as though he had _ received
some bodily injury.

Close on the scent of Young and the
wildeat, he had probably sprung sheer
over the top of the hemlock into the deep
pool below. They could neither hear nor
see anything of the fierce mountain cat,
so they concluded the brute must have
escaped. But Young consoled himself by
declaring that he did not care to have
another such narrow escape.

After they had gathered together some
dry hemlock limbs and kindled a fire, Tib-
bets insisted that Young should give him
a full account of his adventure.

“Well, you see,” said Hipe, quietly
puffing his pipe as he spoke, “after I sep-
arated from you to go up the mountain I
found it pretty tough scrambling, on ac-
count of so many blarsted rocks and scrub-
oaks. But I hoisted away, spite of all
that, and soon came to where it was con-
siderably woody. I had to clamber up a
couple of rocky ledges, when I came to
the spot. wheregyou heard me fire. I heard
the wildcat snarling in a tree overhead,
so I looked till I thought I had got the
varmint sighted, and blazed away. The
next moment the wildcat lighted on me,
and we had it after that nip and tuck. I
had to drop my gun to defend myself
against the critter’s claws, which were
sharp as darning-needles, and tore every-
thing afore ’em.

“Somehow, in the tussle I lost my bal-
ance, andI and the varmint commenced
rolling over and over till I brought up in
the top of the hemlock yonder, which
happened to be a lucky tree for me.
That, you see, Jed, is the substance of
the whole thing. You know the rest.”

“IT am about sick of the coon-hunt for
one, Hipe, and seein’s you've lost your
gun, and won't be likely to find it till
morning, I move we stay where we are
for the remainder of the night. We can
tell the boys in the village that we didn’t
see a coon to tree—and that will be tell-
ing the truth.” f

“That's so, Jed; but they'll stick out
their eyes when they hear my wildcat
adventure—you bet.”

Tibbets sat by the fire, with his keen
eyes turned upward ina range with the
upper limbs of the hemlock, puffing away
leisurely at a short pipe while thus occu-

ied.
i What is that?” he exclaimed, suddenly
removing the dudeen from his mouth, and
hurriedly Stee it in his ~blouse

ocket. “I’ll bet my pile ag’in a smoked
herrin’ I just seen the eyes of the varmint
shining in the tree!”

And Ae his rifle as he spoke he
sprang hastily to his feet.

Having his attention thus called, Hipe
slanced inquiringly into the tree. e
ooked sharply for a moment, and then
uttered an exclamation:

“Fire-locks and gunpowder! I see ’em,
Jed—and they glisten like two sparks in
a coal-hole. It’s the varmint, as sure as
you’re alive!” :

Tibbets raised his piece and took delib-

 

erate aim. He was a splendid shd
could bring down a turkey nine tim

of ten at sixty rods.

He aimed directly between
gleaming sparks and _ fired.
was followed by the sound

body, catching from limb to limb

descent, but without sufficient m
power left to hang on. In anothe
ment it dropped with a heavy sp
in the edge of the water.

Seizing a firebrand each, our t
ers rushed to the spot, or as near
could get to it, and saw the @
brute making some feeble stru
reach the land.

Feebler and feebler each instam
the exertions of the dying anim
every moyement, however feeble,
it nearer and nearer to the shore,
Tibbets was enabled to reach out
arm and grasp it firmly by the na
neck. When he drew the wildcat
beat it violently against the gro
life was extinct. It was a ver
specimen of its kind, weighing §
pounds.

Hipe Young recovered his
morning, and so ended their coo

—_——_—.¢— ¢—@——___—_
THE LAND OF CREDIT

Japan is the “Land of Cre
Tokio, Yokohama, Nagasaki,
cities and towns, whether big OF
at hotels, restaurants, and shops, &
customary—nay, so firmly fixed HM
hard to pay cash. When you ®
thing the clerk or salesman pr
with a chit—very much like
which you write the article, its p
your name; and the thing is—
if you go to the same place a do!
aday. In fact, you need no mm
any ordinary purpose until the
month, when you liquidate y
and begin over again. It is co
dishonorable not to pay your ¢
you donot, your name is hu
wall of the establishment wher
in debt, and you can get noth
there. In the Bermudas account’
tied but once a year. The 30th 0
the day usually fixed for the |
In Austria it is scarcely possi!
business without allowing .a
credit, which is nearly always
months. In Turkey even object8%
necessity are sold on credit,
country, as well as in Russia
allowed is in most cases twel¥
The Consul-General of the Unité
at Rio states that one of thes
drawbacks to commercial i
with Brazil lies in the necessi
ing too long a credit.

———__2.— o_e—__—_—
RETURNED WITH THA

  
  
  
 
  
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
 
  

A few years ago there was i
of the Wild West much lawi@
one kind and another, checked
occasional piece of individual Fé
or by an outburst of vigilance
work. <A curious shooting a
occurred in Medora, North 2%
thus described by Mr. Rooseve#!

“T did not see the actual ©
but I saw both men immedial!
ward, and I heard the shoot?
took place in a saloon on the ”
I was swimming my horse ®
river. I will not give the ful”
the two contestants, as I am *
what has become of them; thov
told that they had since been P
or hanged, I forget which. 4

“One of them was a saloon-*
miliarly called ‘Welshy.’ The®
Hay, had been bickering w!
some time. One day Hay ©€
saloon, and the quarrel beca
violent. Welshy.suddenly WwW
his revolver, and blazed away %

“Hay staggered slightly, shoe
stretched out his hand, and
his would-be slayer the ball, *

“*Here, man, here’s your )U

“Tt had glanced along his ?
gone a roundabout course, and
at the point of the shoulder, ¥
spent, it dropped down the
his hand.” :

Be eR ©

FIREFLIES of the large kine
lighting power that abound i?
go and other West India isla?

loyed for lighting )

ned in lanterns both for goi®
country at night and for t
tion of dwellings. By atté
them to each foot while trav
darkness they serve as a B”
path.

A POPULAR notion prev’
whereabouts of a drowned Pp
ascertained by floating a.
with quicksilver, which iS
to swim toward and stand
where the body lies.
widespread belief, and inst
occurrence are from time
corded,

€ is t)

. On ®y doe:

You he
riding ye
polar
t
Udy for |
Mcome.
le circu)
Und sum
if 4on and
 8t he h;
fession
Ump
you
Ofession

ip ty: A

& few \
>, 88sista:
Spital,
did sh }
nine tim

s near@
the e&
ep struge

h instan
ng ani
feeble,
. shores.
ich out

eir coo

—————

of Cred
rasaki,
r big OF
1 shops; &
y fixed De!
on you M
an pres
| like a
cle, its PF
ling 15
ice a do!

et noth
.accoun
he 30th
yr the.
ly possi
ving -&
always °%
n objects,
redit, av
Russia@
os twel¥
the Uni
1e of th wa
ercial 1
necessif,

re was
ich law
checked ¥
ividual
igilance
sting ails
North
Roosev'
actual
immedia¥
he shootr
on the D®
y horse

e the fu
as I am

 

GOOD NEWS.

L807 ©

 

Gviort [ALKS
SHOR YS

BY ARTHUR SEWALL.

Chillin dione

W. 1.., New York, writes: “Iam 16 years of
Age, and would like your advice as to what
Would be a good trade. I havea fair educa-

Jon, and have been employed for the last
Welve months ina paper factory, but wish to
Cive on account of there being no advance-
Ment. Please let me know if zine etching is a

Od trade, and what upilities does it require ?”

Ig would be a difficult undertaking to
leet asuitable trade for you. To do

“his properly, it would be necessary to

“now what trade you have the most lik-
& for. Etching on metals is a good

ah but you will, no doubt, find some-

ng better, If you are fond of handling
90ls, you would find the machinist or

pentering trades worth learning,
lese trades are not effected by the many
®w inventions that are springing up
ery day. Plumbing is also another good
ade for a strong boy to learn. The only
ay to satisfy yourself about any particu-
trade is to make investigations. Se-

your trade and then hunt up some |

Waintance who is working at it, or
ho knows of some one. You will receive
Nove information this way than you could
tin by any other source,
- W,, Conneaut, Ohio, writes: “I am 15 years
»and am going to study medicine, Would
© to ask you a few questions, Would you
«Vise ne to become w physician? Thad rather
Mdy edicine than anything else. What and
€re is the best medical school?) How much
"Ney does the average doctor wake a year?’

You have made a wise selection pro-
“iding you have the means, and havea
Patticular liking for the medical profes:
™. It is not advisable, however, to
Mdy for this profession unless you have
come, or your parents are in comfort-
*l€ Circumstances, as it requires a good
o. ca sum to complete a physician’s edu-
es tion and tide him over for a few years
‘er he has received his diploma. This
Ytession is not like a trade where you
fod EP in and receive a steady salary
T you have learned the trade, or a
Ofession where success depends on your
ity. A physician ofttimes has to give
&few years to gratuitous practi®e as
&ssistant to a regular physician or in
pital. You might receive a little
ney for this, but it would hardly be
ugh to pay your board. The price of
~tuvtion varies according to the col-
ee you attend. You can find out very
Hy where the different colleges are
ed by applying to the School Herald
piShing Company, 185 Wabash avenue,
Sago, 11]. As doctors’ fees range from
~ollar to twenty-five dollars a call,
jn. San see that there is no “average”
oe. It depends on the ability and
Palarit of the physician what his in-
~€ will amount to. -
pi
oe L. B., Pontiac, Mich., writes: “Tam nearly
'S Of ace, and have not fully learned any
SS yet. My father keeps a book andl
Y store, and [ understand the stationery
Mriodical business pretty well. I have
“hinking about learning engraving, as a
ty estaver gets good pay. My father has
aah of engraving tools, and could start me at
the Store, but I thought [ mizht find some-
to do that I would like better. Could
‘ease tell me all about the publishing
ine Is there any book published giving
~'Ptions of every trade!” °

°U are old enough now to settle down
farm a trade. Some boys begin to
_ trade when they are sixteen years
xe, but it is not always advisable, as
Sw have received sufficient educa-
at that age to carry them through
. Ve often hear people argue that a
Ucation is not necessary for a boy
jcends to learn atrade. This is a
WStake, as a boy who learhs a trade
Considerable universal knowledge
intends to be successful. A limited
ti ion is well enough for a boy who
Ge ed to do menial work all his life,
T2n ambitious boy a good educa-
S necessary. Since you like the
SS, your father is engaged in, why
{rn it? You will find it a much bet-
Ness in every respect than the en-
& trade. This Made may be well to
darneching about in connection with

1. *ther’s business, but you would
y large salary if you con-

0 engraving alone, as there
Much call for engraving nowadays.
Vth @ngraving work that amounts to
"8 are cards and invitations, and
not enough of this class of work

P One steadily employed unless in
Concern. It is too long a story to
Yall about the publishing business

© are a large number of trades

represented. Among them may be men
tioned compositors, wood-engravers, elec-
trotypers, pressmen, machinists, photo-
engravers, and photographers. The pro-
fessions are represented by artists, au-
thors, and draughtsmen. Encyclopedias
are the only books which publish a de-
scription of all trades. If you desire a
book on my one trade, you can easily find
it inthe public libraries. There is no
book to my knowledge which contains a
full description of the principal trades.

W. B. G., Battle Creek, Mich., writes: “IT was
obliged to leave school and earn my own living.
I could notlearn the trade I wanted, so had to
take what I could get. I work in a printing
office, and have for two years, at press werk;
get one dollara day. Had I ought to receive
more? Can doany job they give me; have
charge of one job press. Have picked up most
of my education; would like to get more. There
is no night-school here, so I have to get along
the best way I[ean. Did Ido right? I am 18
years old,”

The work you are doing is probably
worth ohly one dollar a day to your em-
ployer. In thiscity you could find a large
number of boys who receive less than six
dollars a week for attending to a small
job press. This is only boys’ work, and no
matter how long you might work at it
you would not receive a much larger
salary. If you fancy the printing busi-
ness, you should learn to manage the
large newspaper pt'éesses, where you would
receive three dollars a day, and more
when you were competent to take full
charge. Education is not always gained
at schools, There are many influential
business men to-day who are self-taught,

the same.
securing an education, you should study
at home inthe evening. You will find

lic libraries, or you can borrow some
school books from your friends, Do not
be ashamed to ask advice on subjects you
do not understand. It is not your fault
that you do not know as much as some
of your acquaintances, who have been
attending school and have nothing else
to worry about but their lessons.

CONSTANT READER, East Greenwich, R. T.,
writes: “I am areader of the GOOD Nrws, and
write to you for advice. 4 am 15 years old, 5
feet 9 inches high, weigh 185 lbs., and work in a
cotton mill; but [am going to leave the mill
and attend high school. I would like to geta
oe in a store as aclerk and work up, or
earn the typesetter’s trade. Which do you
think is the best?”

You are not constituted for indoor
work, and therefore it would not be ad-
visable to workin a storé or learn the
compositor’s trade, not but what the oc-
cupations are desirable, but you would
not be satisfied to be cooped up all day.
You need different exercise than working
behind the counter in a store, or in front
of a case in acomposing-room. After you
have graduated from the high school you
will have changed your opinion. You
are young yet, and have three or four
years tomake a decison. In most cases it
is better not to begin a trade until you
are, at least, eighteen years of age, as
you need not spend more than three years
earning any ordinary trade, if you are
bright. :

‘ te

CLEVER SPARROWS.

There is a well-known fowl-breeder,
who rears and keeps his fowls in a pen
close to the railway. One morning he
gave his hens a lot of Indian corn to eat,
and was surprised to see the sparrows
swallowing the corn and eating as much
as the hens, and he made up his mind to
prevent them by getting the very biggest
corn he could procure. The next morning
he watched closely to see if the sparrows
came.’ They came, but could not swallow
the coru, and he thought he had got
them, but they kept flying away and
coming again, taking a grain at atime
till it was all gone. Then he made up his
mind to watch where they went to, and
to his astonishment and dismay saw them
place the grain of cornon the railway
metals, fly onto the telegraph wires,
and wait till the train had gone over
them, when they flew down and ate it,
thus outdoing the old fowl-breeder with
all his tricks.

—__~0-—e—___—_

SMALL-HEADED PEOPLE.

 

Small-headed people have reason to be
grateful to Professor Virchow, the emi-
nent German scientist, for relieving them
from an unflattering stigma. There has
always been a popular belief that the size
of the brain is in proportion to that of
the skull, and that large-headed people
are, therefore, endowed with a greater
amount. of intellectual apparatus than
those whose heads are small. Professor
Virchow disposes of this theory by point-
ing out that the Greeks, ane of the most

 

intellectual of nakions, are also one of
the smallest-headed of races.

and there is no reason why you cannot be |
If you are in earnest about |

books on almost any subject in the pub- |

| iously called heliographs or heliostats.

/ about is now writing for book publication only.

Our Mail Bag.

se

[Questions on subjects of general interest only are
dealt with in the ‘Mail Bag.” Medical or legal
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
Bay,” P. O. Box 2734, New York City.]

eee mages

G,. W. IT. (Belfast, Me.)—It is a question of taste.
In our estimation stamps ought not to be trimmed,
as by so doing you lose the stamp effect intended.

S. BE. N. (Newark, N. J.)—The property should
have been recorded when sold. Write to the
county clerk of Soffolk County, at Riverhead, L. 1.,
for information.

F. M. C.(Woonsocket, R. I.)—1. No premium on
three-cent piece dated 1853. 2. Letters are an-
swered in turn as received, which accounts for
yours not being answered until this number.

Constant Reader, (Watsonville, Cal.)—1. Cameron
& Co,, 8 Walker St., New York city, will probably
send you the desired information, 2. When writing
to a firm or individual for information, it is proper
to inclose stamped envelope for reply

E. A. M. (Meridian, Miss.)—Seldom are we called
upon for a recipe to harden the hands. Itis gen-
erally a recipe for softening the hands that is re-
quested. Professional athletes oftep toughen their
hands by soaking them in salt water or corn beef
brine, Which butchers use for corning their meats.

F. C. (Los Angeles, Cal.)—Yes, the cuckoo is a
migratory bird. Its peculiar note is usually first
heard in England about the middle of April, and
ceases at the end of June. It is found in India and
Africa, and during summer has been seen as far to
northward as Lapland and Kamtchatka.

C. B. (Milwaukee, Wis.)—The large figures fol-
lowing your name on the yellow address tab used
by us in mailing your paper to you indicate to what
number of GoOD NEWS your subscription is paid.
‘The small figures simply indicate to us on what
page ot our account books your last payment is en-
tered.

Cc. K. (Kansas City, Mo.)—Heliography is a method
of communicating swiftly between distant points
by means of the sun’s rays, reflected from mirrors.
Either successive flashes or obscurations of a con-
tinuous reflection of the sun’s light may -be com-
bined, so as to reaa like Morse’s telegraphic system.
The instruments coutainipg the mirrors are var-

J. C. B. (Pawtucket, R. I.)—An ordinary cook-
book will give youa recipe for making hop beer,
Some people make it by mixing together eleven
ounces of hops, fourteen pounds of molasses, and
eleven gallons of water; boil for two hours; when
cold, add a cupful of yeast, and let the mixture fer-
ment overnight. Then put it inaeask. Bung it
down in two days, and in seven days it will be fit to
drink.

A. F. (Tacoma, Wash.)—1. The book coupons are
always good if you have the complete set. 2, John L.
Wilson is the congressman from your section. He
isa republican, and practices law when at home at
Spokane Falls, Wash. Write to him about the U.
S. Navel Academy appointments 8. Would advise
you not to interfere with the hait growing on your
iipperlip. Most yoting jnen would be proud of it,
and it is surprising that you are not.

S. K. P. (Atlantic City, N. J.)—A good life-pre
serving belt is made in the following manner: The
body of the belt is composed of light canvas, tarred
to prevent mildewing, and the best quality of cork
is firmly sewed on in slabs, without covering.
About two or three pounds of cork will be sufficient
for an ordinary sized belt. It should be made to fit
neatly around the body under the arms, and fas-
tened by two straps and buckles in front.

c. D. (St. Paul, Minn.)—Genttine bay rum, used
as a toilet preparation and for other preparations,
is made by digesting or steeping the leaves of the
bay plant—an aromatic plant growing in the West
Indies—in rum, and subsequent distillation. Com-
paratively little of the pure article is sold, an excel-
lent preparation being prepared by mixing the es-
sential oil obtained from the bay plant and the oil of
pimento, allspice, or cloves, with alcohol and
water.

J. Ih’. O. (Rochester, N. Y.j—1. A day-book is a
book in which are recorded the accounts of the day.
2. Yes, you could with little practice keep a cash
book. 3. Hotel clerks receive from $50 to $200 a
month with board. It depends to a large extent on
the size of the hotel and the class of the guests who
patronize it. You write a very good business hand,
and all things being equal, you would make a first
class hotel clerk, aud be able to wear the regulation
size diamond in your shirt-front,

Angler, (Boston, Mass.)—Fishing lines may be
waterprooted by placing them in a mixture com-
posed of one pint of boiled linseed oil and a quarter-
pound of beeswax melted in a porcelain pot in boil-
ing water. ‘hen stretch the line ont in a dry
place, removing the superfiuous liquid by rubbing
with «a piece of sponge or a piece of rag held be-
tween the forefinger and thumb. Do not nse the
line until perfectly dry. This preparation not only
waterproofs, but also preserves the line. ;

P.J. 8. (Hadley|Falls, Mass.)—1. Test tube or lacto-
meter is an instrument for ascertaining the propor-
tions of cream in milk. There are also a number of
different test tnbes used in chemistry. 2. You can
borrow books on chemistry from ony large public
library, but it would not be advisable to do any ex-
tensive experimenting without practical instruc-
tions. 3. Retort is a vessel in which substances are
subjected to distillation. 4. ‘The author you inquire

Columbia.—1. Four dollars would be a very low*
price for the papers and binders. 2. Yes, you are
above the ordinary weight for a boy fifteen years of
age. 3. “Uncle Sam” is believed to have originated
in Troy, N. Y., by &@ man named Samuel Wilson.
The account is rather interesting, and as it is too
long to publish in this column, we will insert it in
body of paper next week ; also about the emblem of
American Eagle. 4. The occupations come under
the heading, of professions for which there is no
stated salaries. ‘They are paid by fees.

A. S. (Yankton, Dak.)—The violin 1s considered
the hardest and most difficult instrument to learn
correctly, and it takes many years of careful study
to be able to play it correctly and give expression.
The banjo is a comparatively easy instrument to
learn, as when tuned, it gives a full harmonious
chord to start with. The mandolin is a somewhat
difficult instrument. It is tuned in fifths, the same
as a Violin, having four strings, two being in unison
with every note. The zither comes next; then the
guitar, Which has Six strings, of which three of
them are bass strings, thus making accompani-
hments @ Very simple matter. The guitar is used
ynainly for accompaniments.

Ticklets.

BY CHARLES W. FOSTER

+ —~

The Chase.
Mamma (out walking)—‘Why, pet, you are
all out of breath !”
Little Pet—‘‘I’s been chasin’ a flutterby.”

No Penny.
Little Dot—‘“Papa wouldn't
peuny.”
Maima—“He wouldn't?”
; Little Dot—‘No'm. He is penny-urious, isn’t
1e 2

give me a

Found Out.
Mamma—“Which of the children hid my slip-
pers ?”’

Nurse—“Little Johnny hid ’em, ma’am.”
Mamma—“Then Johnny is the one who upset
that jam down stairs.”

Nautical Knowledge.
Little Boy—*‘See that yacht.”
Little Girl—“That isn’t a yacht, it’s only a
sail-hoat.”’
Little Boy—‘How do you know ?”
Little Girl—*’Cause it hasu’t any up stairs
an’ down cellar.”

Didn’t Name It.
Visitor—“‘Have you named the baby yet?’
Little Girl—‘No, ma’am.”

Visitor—“‘It is time it had a name.”
Little Girl--‘It has a name, but L didn’t name
it; mamma named it.”

Necessary as Clothes.
First Youth—‘‘Are you going toa fashionable
summer resort this season ?”"
Second Youth (sadly)—‘‘No, I can’t afford a
detective camera.”

Bound to be Fashionable.
Daughter—‘‘W here is the sealing-wax ?”
Father—‘‘What do you want of it?”

“I want to seal this letter.”’

“Um—don’t you think it rather foolish to
close a gummed envelope with sealing- wax ?”
“ve washed the gum off.”

Two Songs.

City Child—‘Manmma, { wish
the country.”
City Mamma—‘Horrors! It's dreadfully
lonely in the country, and one can’t possibly gét
a servant-girl there.”

City Child—“[ want to
hear the birds sing.”

City Mamma—*Be a good girl, and I'll let you
go sit in the kitchen with Bridget and hear
the kettle sing.”

we lived in

lie on the grass and

Juvenile Logic.
Little Girl—‘“Why mayn't I go to the theater
with you ?”
Mamma—‘Because it is a Shakespearian
tragedy and you couldn't understand it.”
“Isn't itin English?”
“Yes; but you couldn’t understand what they
were talking about. You don't know enough.”
“Well, I don’t know ‘nough to un’erstand
wat th’ preacher is tajkin’ ’bout either, but
you makes me go to church.”

Warm Enough.
Mother—“Do you think
enough yet for swimming?

Little Son—‘Yes, indeed. Tommy Traddles
was in yesterday, and he’s alive yet.”
Out of Stuck.
Lady—“Have you any alligator satchels?”

New Boy—“‘No’m. Our paper mill burned
down last week.”

the water 1s warm

Matter of Necessity.

Mother—"What did you tell me such a great
big lie for?”

Boy—“I couldn't think of a little one that
ud do.”

Couldn’t Stand It.

First Boy—‘“‘Ain't you goin’ swimmin’ ?”’

, Second Boy—No.”

First Boy—“You said you was.
you?” :

Second Boy—‘‘Mother said if I went in swim-
min’ I'd have to take some soap along and
wash.”

Why don't

A Pleasant Playmate.
Mother~‘Why do you do all your playing
with that dirty little boy on the back street ?”
Small Son—*‘I can whip him.”

A Wee Woman.
Little Daughter—‘*Mamma, I wish you would
get me a—a—a—”’
Mamma—“ Well, what?”
Little Daughter—“Oh, I don’t know; most
anything Susie Stuckupp hasn't got.”

Might Be.
Teacher—“Why didn't I see you at school yes-
terday ?”
Boy—“I dunno.”
“You don’t know ?”’
“No’m, not ’xactly; but maybe it was ’cause I
wasn’t here.” ’

————_—_<+ o—o_—_—_

PHOTOGRAPHY UNDER WATER.

Photographing under water has actually
been carried out. Experiments were made
in 1889 in the Mediterranean to ascertain
how far daylight penetrated under water.
In very clear water near Corsica, and
eighteen miles from land, the limit of
daylight was found by means of photo-
eo plates to be 1,580 feet. The Prince

onaco obtained very successful nega-
tives of the ocean bed under electric illu-

 

[Several communications left over ta ba answered 1

 

i yook,) it . rl

mination, z

 

 

 
    
  
  
   
    
  
   
      

 

1808

Puzzle Corner.

[Original contributions solicited. Please do not
send puzzles containing obsolete words. _ Address,
“Dizzle ditor” Goop NEws, P.O. Box 2734, New York
UVity ]

os eee

No. 1—Cross WORD ENIGMA.

In apple, notin plum.

In division, not mn sui.

In awl, notin shoe.

Tn make, not in do.

In fig. not in date.

In Orange, not in plate.

In root, notin plant.

In Elmer, not in Grant.

In ponnad, not in ounce.

In approach, not in bounce.

In until, notin now,

In grind, not in plow.

Tn hat, not in coat.
The whole is the name of a noted circus owner.

GEORGE FELS.

No. 2—DIAMOND.

1. A consonant.

2. A winged animal.

3. A weight of (our grains.

4, A fluid made from pitch.

5. A consonant.

A. J. MOWREY.

No. 8—DECAPITATED HALF SQUARE.

Decapitate a part of the body three times,
and form a complete half square.

CANONICUS.
No, 4—ABSENT VOWELS.
Huststhbstple.
Woop B. POAITE,
No. 5—WORD SQUARE.
1, Adhesive.
2. A wind instrument of music.
3. Unhappy.
4. To throw.
- THE TOURIST.
No. 6,—ENIGMA.

Tam composed of four letters.

Tdle people waste me, and even sometimes try
to kill me. Leaders of orchestras always beat
me. Watches were invented to tell me. [have
existed forever aud am never seen. IT have no
wings, but people often say I “fly.””. When I tell
you Lam found in mite you have discovered
me. Whoamtl?

HENRY A. H.
No. 7—DOUBLE ACROSTIC.
(Words of five letters.)

1. To move to and fro while suspended in the

air.

2. A piece of furniture.

3. A form of amusement.

4. A claw of a bird.

5. ‘lo have contidence in.

Primals and tinals spell the names of two

great American generals.
FUNNY, SMART & Co.

Co

No, 8—CHARADE.
When the days were bright and fair,
And the flowers mm full bloom,’
Freighting the summer air
With their sweet perfume,
Jack, my jirst, stood dear to me;
And when the clouds looked dark and: drear
Jack. ever ready to help and cheer
Me on, till the darkuess lifted clear,
And the,silver lining in the clouds I'd see.
Dear Jack, true indeed was your complete,
And prized most dear by me ;
May fortune, rare and replete,
Bring rest, and peace, and joy.
And when your last comes home to thee,
May your joys follow you there
Where all is gold, with no alloy.
ARTHOR E, C.

  
   
   
 
  

Electricity the mos won-
derful and prevalent force
in nature, demonstrated
as amotive power within
the space of 6 inches and
at the cost ofonly ONE
LLAR. A real
and practical Electric
MOT OR, com-
plete with bat-
tery and suffi-
cient materials
to run it at a
speed of 1200
revolutions a
< minute for 75
hours; for 21, This is not a catch-penny engine but one scien-
fifically made; well packed in wood box, complete and guar-
anteed. By Express $1.00; By Mail 35¢. extra for postage.
New 64 p. Ill. Catalogue of over 1000 necessary articles, FREE.

R-H. INGERSOLL & BRO.65 Cortlandt St.N.Y¥.City

DO YOU WANT

the $1.50

POOLE foe

 

 

OFFICIAL

 

AND

GOOD NEWS FOR THREE MONTHS ?

If so, send us ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY
CENTS, and-receive bolh for the
price of the ball.

The ball is manufactured by SPALDING BROS., and
is the same as used by the professional clubs. We
not only send yon for THREK MONTHS the best boys’
paper published, but a $1.50 OFFICIAL LEAGUE BALL
AS WELL. Send the one dollar and fifty cents by
registered mail,money order, postal note, or ex-

ELECTRIC ENGINE, |

 

 

 

GOOD NEWS.

AN UNFINISHED LOVE LETTER.

 

 

 

 

 

Young Gushington sits down to com-
pose a letter for his lady love.

**J feel myself on fire with the ab-
sorbing subject |”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘“*Put meout Mr. Landlord, please put
me out!”

Auswers to Puzzles in No. 112 Good News,

client Gace

GriLtu—Bill, hill, kill, fill, mill, rill, till, Sill,
pill.

Good News Binder.

Price 50 Cents.

Answers the purpose of a bound volume,
Holding fifty-two copies comfortably.

 

It is, withont donbt, the finest binder ever offered
even for double the price we ask, and is indispensable
to those who are keeping their papers, as it not only
pecsetven Goop Nrws for future reference, and from
eink lost, but keeps them clean and in good order. It
is both useful and ornamental.

It has a durable black embossed cover with flexible
back, and a gold stamp title on the outside cover. It
opens flat as any book, and each week's paper can be
inserted as soon as received. Full directions for insert-
ing the paper accompany each binder.

We will send the Goop NEws’binder and a package of

No. 1— aaa
1. Creed, reed, deer. CANARY birds have been known to live 21
2. Crape, rape. pear, reap, pea, ape. years.
3. Town, own, now, won. ‘ a ies i nh : :
4. Lrope, rope, pore, ore, roe. a goon camel will travel 100 miles a day for
No, 2-- HALF a loaf is better than a railway restaur-
= os 2 S ant sandwich,
NATRB THERE are 30,000 Americans who constantly
oR Ex reside in London.
AGH for age, girls are tallest in Sweden, and
No, 3— Mt the heaviest as well.
WON CHINA, With all her 400,000,000 people, has only
MOR b x: 40 niles of railroad.
N E P ALL of us cry “wolf” so often that some day
L we will ery it in vain.
No. 4— THE total length of the Turkish railway sys-
Emily. tem is now about 782 miles.
No. 5— Ir isevery busy man’s theory that he could

‘Certainly. I will put you out with
pleasure.”

Short Stops.

really do something greatif he liad a day in
which he had nothing to do.

VOL. 2 OF GOOD NEWS.

WITH INDEX, 85 CENTS.

The papers in this volume are cut and trimmed

wire,

from Florida, and it will be exhausted in a few
years,

how much or how little we think of eaet
other.

he becomes that he will have to be his own be&e
friend,

ropes, cables, paper, clothing, soap, sugar, au Ki

THIRTY-FOUR pounds of raw sugar maké
twenty-one pounds refined.

Wr never knew a person who was not satu
rated with some fool notion,

OF the foreign merchants in China, only

twenty-seven are Americans, a

A BOY wants a sitnation in an eating-house.
He understands the business,

WORKING will make sweet wine sonr; it is the
same with men’s dispositions.

NEGROES with red hair are common in the
West Indies and in South America.

OF the 300,000 inhabitants in Cincinnati, 54.
000 come from the German Empire.

TWENTY lmillion acres of the land of the
United States are held by foreigners,
A BACHELOR isa man who never has to ale
swer questions he does not want to answer.
For every dollar a man earns, he sees some
thing that he wants that would cost him two.
FIFTY-ONE metals are now know to exish
Four hundred years avo only seven were knowl
Four new swift cruisers and two new_ trans
port steamers are to be added to the Russia
fleet.
THE Swedish telegraph system in 1891 em
braced 5,517 miles of cable and 14,790 miles ot

LEAD-PENCIL wood—soft cedar—all comes

ADVERSITY is a test by which we show eithe® 9

THE older a man grows the more convince

From the American aloe tree is made threats

brandy.
THE average man does as he pleases, and
then growls because other men expect the same
privilege,

WHEN any one feels good, it is not because ne
has had good luck, or taken medicine, but D&
cause he is young.

THERE probably never was an old man and #
young one who could agree on the definition &
the word “fogy.” i

ELEPHANTS are at their prime between iG]
ages of twelve and forty-tive, and work We
until they are eighty.

THE first suspension bridges ever built were —
made in China 2,000 years ago, being col
structed of iron chains.

THE little Republic of Uruguay has more
newspapers in proportion to its population We
any other country in the world.

BANK-NOTES in Austria-Hungary are printed
one side in German and the other in Magyar!
the benefit of the Hungarians. :

AN authority on such matters states that th?
United States have lost more men in war si2
1776 than any nation in Europe. a

“THE way to sleep is to think of nothiney,
says a scientist. Allan editor has to do 18 4
ruminate over his bank account. i

DINAH Hogan, an ex-slave, who died at
Atherville, Missouri, a few weeks igo, was ie
to have reached the advanced age of 115 year”

AN establishment for the manufacture ©
forged bank-notes has just been unearthed 7
Naples. Five thousand bank-notes were rele >
to be put into circulation. p

THE population of China is now estimatet

jab

 

ia
a

A

 

  
 
   
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
   
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
  
  
  
 
  
  
 
  
  
   
  
  
 
  
 
   
  
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
  
  

a a ae

gps

met

the sy

 

  
  

rire §
nal ’
ply

350,000,000, Which is almost equal to the eH
population of Europe. Tae Chinese nati
debt is one of the smallest, amounting to ®
$8,500,000 dollars. :

 
  

0 $15 ht oatia

home, cee %
LIGHTNING PLAY
and plating jewelry, 73"
tableware, &c. Plates oo
finest of jewelry g y

   
     

 

 

similar to our Vol.1. The price is also the same,
85 cents. Volume 2 contains complete serial stories
by HARRY. CASTLEMON, LIEUT. JAS. Kk. ORTON,
OLIVER OPTIC, MAX ADELER, W. B. LAWSON, LIEUT.
LOUNSBERRY and others. It also contains numer-
ous short stories by prominent authors, the usual
collection of useful and instructive articles, in-
teresting departments, ete. The Index to Volumes
1 and 2 is bound in this volume. The price, 85 cents,
includes all charges for postage or expressage.
Address Subscription Department, GOOD NEws,
31 Rose Street, New York.

FAIR@REMOVED

Permanently, root and branch, in five minutes, without pain,
discoloration orinjury with ** Pilla Solvene.” Sealed
particulars, 6c. Wilcox Specific Oo,, Phila,, Pa,

The Young Elocutionist.
S. & S, Manual Libyary No. 15. Price 10¢e.

This book explains the artof speaking gracefully and
well. Fully illustrated, showing gestures, positions
of hands and feet, selected recitations, deportment, etc.
It is not sufficient to be able to put your thonehts into
words ; the words must glow, and the meaning must
be aided by judicious gestures. This little book will,
therefore, be a valuable help. For sale by all news-
dealers, or will be sent post paid, upon receipt of price,
ten cents, by the publishers,

STREET & SMITH,

25 to 31 Rose Street, New York.

 

 

  
  

 

)
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new, on all kinds of ee
i with gold, silver or ole s
i i || No experience. No c® el
Hy i ||| Every house has goods 4
ii
f

  
   

 

 
 

Mt ing plating. Wholesslen
OFS agents $5. Write for g .
lars. H. FE. DEL 4 j
= 4Co., Columbus, & rs,

RemedyFree. INSTANT RELIEF. Hit ¥

cureino iudays. Never returns; no pated ‘

no sa:ve: nosuppository. A victim & as

; in vain every rem dy has discoveteeg |
simple cure, which he will mail freeto his fellow 8 4
ferers. Address J. H. REEVES, Box 8290, New York Citys¥" -

 
  
 

 

S. & S. MANUAL LIBRARY, No-

PRICE, 10 CENTS. S

A hand-book of etiquette for ladies and cent

Instructs one how to make calls, visits, and po
behave at dinners, notes on dress and yeneral de i
ment. Genuine politeness is not like a ball-dre5* a9 4
to be worn when circumstances or ceremony my?
it. Practice at homeif you wish to be perfect # ‘an
For sale by all Newsdealers, or will be sent, pers
upon receipt of price, ten cents, by the publis ‘yor ,

STREET & SMITH, 31 Rose Street, New oi
4
CUT THIS OUT sat Ju fiend Jai

to examine and wear, a SOLID GOLD finished watch that you
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if not, return it tome. Mention whether Ladies’ or Genta’ siz@ N 3

W.'S. SEMIPSON. 37 College Places” 7

xc

~

    

 

 

 

 

RIDDLES AND THEIR ANSWERS.

S. & §. Manual Library No. 13. Price, 10 Cents

This book contains a large and choice collection of
amusing and interesting riddles, enigmas, charades.
and puzzles for both young and old. A dull and stupid
entertainment may be enlightened by the amusement
resulting from a happy instance of jugelery with
words. ‘rhe riddles have been selected with the great-
est care; very old and hackneyed examples have been
avoided, and a large number of original specimens in-
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shers,
STREET & SMITH,

 

 

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cents.

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THE PEERLESS RECITER, 4

3. & S. Manual Library, NO ~~
PRICE, 10 CENTS. stati :
This book contains thirty-seven selected ree ail ;

humorous, pathetic, and historical. All who eer

secure recitations that are bound to please the

will do well to examine this book. vast
For sale by all Newsdealers, or will be sent, er
upon receipt of price, ten cents, by the publish be
STREET & SMITH, 81 Rose Street, New a’

: a ota

   

 

  
   
   
  

  

 
  

      

   

aot

Be sure ana use **rs. wins
Soothing Syrup” for your»
while Teething. 25 cents

  
 

 

i

   
  

 

REO

4
vie sam ¢
ihe

How to Behave in Society: |

 
   
  

 

 

 

tity

—_——_——